december 9 - ruining the holiday dinner
1D fanfic AU
Narry (This one isn't even pretending to be anything else. It's straight up Narry)
*
Niall burst through the doors of the Waitrose, letting in a flurry of snowflakes carried by the wind.He could barely see around the scarf he'd wound over his face to protect from the wind so the first thing he did was tug it off, stumbling forward into the warmth of the store. The place was practically empty since it was right before closing on Christmas Eve, but an elderly woman examining clementines in the fruit section gave him a dirty look which he dutifully ignored as he headed off in the direction of the canned food aisle. He had one item that he needed, just one, and then he could go home, back to his solitude, and eat his turkey alone. He just needed his cranberry sauce first.
Niall was absolute one hundred percent sure that this Christmas was going to be seriously depressing. He was too broke to afford a ticket home to Ireland to see his family so he was spending the holidays by himself. Louis had invited him up to see his family in Doncaster but Niall hadn't wanted to impose. Louis's family was huge and they were tight-knit — he didn't want to get into the middle of their celebrations. So here he was, alone on Christmas Eve, eating the world's smallest turkey by himself and probably watching some lame Christmas special on BBC until he fell into his food coma. It was sad and pathetic and Niall was fully aware of that but what could he do? He was pretty much out of options.
He shoved his hands into his pockets to warm them up as he stomped through the store, headed for the aisle that he assumed would be holding the cranberry sauce. Scanning the shelves as he walked, he caught sight of a big empty space and his stomach dropped, hoping and praying that it wasn't true. They couldn't be sold out. They just couldn't be. And then he spotted it, one fancy ass glass jar sitting on the top shelf, a lone survivor in a sea of destitution. Niall immediately plucked it off the shelf, cradling it in his palm. He checked the price listed on the shelf. "£2? Are you kidding me?"
He grumbled as he checked his pockets. He assumed he could get a can for less than a pound so he'd run off from his flat with just his coat, assuming the spare change would cover it. As if it wasn't embarrassing enough buying cranberry sauce at 9:30 on Christmas Eve. Now he was counting his pennies to do it. He would just manage with the tax, he determined as he added up his change. But he sure as hell wasn't going to be happy about it.
He jogged back down the aisle, cranberry sauce in hand, and swivelled his head looking for an open cash. There was only one light shining above the row of checkouts and Niall didn't pause as he turned his body that direction. His feet kept a steady clip as he got closer. Only one person was standing there, waiting patiently behind the person who had decided to do their full grocery list on Christmas Eve, with a handful of coupons to boot. Honestly, some people were just unbelievable.
The person waiting in line shifted sideways, frowning at the covers of the tabloids on display, and Niall was stunned to realize he recognized the man. It was Harry. Hot Harry from his work, who Niall had been not so subtly pining after since he'd gotten the job at the recording studio nearly six months ago. He still remembered the first moment he had laid eyes on Harry. He'd been doing some tracks for Zayn Malik's next record, just doing his thing, playing his guitar, and then he'd walked in. Niall had quite literally forgotten how to play the guitar which he'd mastered in infancy at the sight of the tall man with his curls pulled back in a bun, wearing a grey shirt buttoned only halfway with sleeves rolled right up past his elbows. His jeans were tight enough to reveal shapely legs, thighs that made Niall's mouth water, and he had tattoos up one arm and across his chest. Niall, who had never mustered the fortitude to get a tattoo himself, liked them a whole hell of a lot.
He'd come in to the recording room to talk to the recording engineer working behind the glass and he didn't stay long. He didn't even spare Niall a glance, sitting in the booth, but Niall still found himself sitting up straighter, trying to look cool or... something. Just something. He felt like he didn't take a breath until the door had shut behind him.
"That's Harry," Louis, a studio writer and Niall's first friend there, had told him when he relayed the story back to him in the lunchroom. "He's a huge name in the music world. He's a producer but he sits in a lot. Even does his own sound engineering sometimes. He's, like, a producing god."
"Didn't know Harry was your taste, Louis." Niall's eyes had widened as his boss, the studio manager Liam, walked up behind Louis and clapped him on the shoulders. "Something you want to tell me?"
"Not me," Louis scoffed as he rolled his eyes. "Niall here's the one with the questionable taste."
"A bit of a crush then?" Liam had asked with a cheeky smile as he pulled out a chair at the table and sat down languidly. Niall was still trying to get around the fact that his boss was sitting with them at lunch like it was no big thing so his answer was a stuttered mess.
"I don't — what, but, no — I, um, no."
"That was almost a full sentence Niall," Louis said condescendingly as he reached over to pat Niall's hand. "Good job." Niall flipped him the finger in response.
"I could give you his number if you'd like," Liam offered. "He's a really great guy. You two would get on."
"No," Niall said immediately, shaking his head furiously. "I — no, no it's okay. Thanks anyways." He jumped to his feet and practically ran off before the conversation could go any further.
He'd seen Harry exactly four times since then. The first time had been, embarrassingly enough, in the loo. Harry had been leaving while he'd been going in and they'd ended up in a tangle in the doorway. It had been the first time Niall had heard Harry speak, just a simple "sorry" before they went their separate ways. He'd dreamed some things he would never admit to out loud that night, that one word coursing through his mind.
The second time, Niall had been rushing around, trying to find the pack of strings for his guitar because he'd just snapped one and they were in the middle of recording the last bits of an album that Niall had been asked to play on. He'd been chucking things around in the break room where his stuff was stashed when Liam's voice behind him had said, "And have you met Niall yet?" Niall had craned his head around, sheet music held between his teeth as he searched frantically for his extra strings. That was the image Harry had of him — bent over, arse in the air, mouth full — when they met for the second time. "We had a run-in in the toilets," Harry told Liam with a chuckle that did bad bad things to Niall. "It's nice to meet you properly Niall." They were gone before Niall had a chance to say that this wasn't exactly proper.
The third time, Niall had stumbled upon Harry entirely by accident, hiding out on the roof of the studio looking over Oxford Circus. Sometimes Niall went out there to think when the weight of the world was too much. Apparently he wasn't the only one because Harry was sitting right near the roof's edge, head in hands. It was clear from the way he was hunched over, his shoulders tense, that something was on his mind. Niall was going to just step away and pretend he hadn't seen him but Harry must have sensed him. He craned his head around and frowned in Niall's direction. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you," Niall said with a shake of his head, his cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment.
"No, you didn't," Harry said quickly. "Don't go on my account."
"You just look like you needed some space."
Harry got a strange sort of look on his face that Niall couldn't quite decipher. It sort of unsettled him a little and he really had no idea what to do. "Actually, space is probably the last thing I need. I'm, um, I've just been having a really shit day today."
He sighed, looking off into the distance over the city. Niall considered turning around but found his feet stumbling forward instead. And then his hand was tapping Harry's shoulder and he wondered how all of these movements were happening without his consent. "Here," he said, thrusting the takeaway cup he'd been carrying in Harry's direction when he glanced back. "I think you need this more than I do."
"No, it's okay. I don't —"
"Just take it." Niall shoved it out farther until Harry was forced to take it from him. Harry had insanely large hands — god, his hands — and they wrapped around the cup easily, cradling it comfortably. "It's a london fog. They, well, I always drink them when I'm feeling down. Maybe it'll help."
He felt so stupid afterward because a fucking tea latte wasn't going to fix problems but Harry managed a little smile and that basically made Niall's brain stop functioning. He sipped it and a surprised sort of grin crossed his face. "This is quite good."
"It's all yours," Niall said as he straightened, taking a step away. Harry surprised him once again by swivelling around, his brow scrunched up as he pouted at Niall.
"Don't go. Sit and have a chat."
"Are you sure?" Niall asked warily.
"'Course. I think both of us need a distraction right now. You can tell me why you're feeling down."
"I — I didn't say that."
"You said you drink these when you're feeling down," Harry said as he lifted the cup ever so slightly. "You had one on hand so I figured something was on your mind. I'm a good listener, you know."
Niall was literally seconds from saying fuck it and sitting down beside Harry at the edge of the roof but they were interrupted by a ringing phone. Harry rolled his eyes and drew it from his pocket, answering with a curt, clipped, "Harry Styles." The conversation seemed to descend from there and when Harry grimaced apologetically to signal he had to take the call, Niall made himself scarce pretty quickly. The last thing he wanted to be was a nuisance.
Niall didn't see Harry for a month and a half after that because he hadn't been working at the studio. So Niall had been doubly surprised when he walked into the booth to play some stuff and saw Harry sitting at the mixing boards, the staff sound engineer lounging at his side and watching Harry work. Harry glanced up when he walked in and smiled at him. "Hey Niall. You playing for us today?"
"Um, I think," Niall answered as he stumbled over to the equipment so he could get himself set up.
"Niall's the best," Dylan, the staff engineer, told Harry, giving Niall a wink. Niall made sure to focus on getting his guitar hooked up properly and dutifully kept his eyes off the glass.
"So I've heard," Harry practically purred and Niall crashed into the music stand so hard that he sent it tumbling to the ground.
It only went downhill from there. He couldn't play a single fucking note right. Okay, that was exaggerating, but he definitely wasn't at his best. Harry tried to be nice about it but eventually the constructive criticism got repetitive and Harry didn't know what else to say. Niall wanted to hit something; he wanted to cry. He was just so embarrassed. This was what he was good at and he was fucking up royally.
"Why don't you take a breather?" Harry suggested when it had gotten to the point where Niall couldn't get through a couple bars without an off note. "Get your head back. We'll listen to the stuff we've got and when you get back, we can go from there."
Niall practically ran out of the booth and right outside where he gasped for air. He kicked the wall and then instantly regretted it because that was his foot, damn it. He felt like an idiot. He was letting a stupid crush affect his job. Instead of playing his best in front of one of the best producers in the business, he was playing so badly that they really should fire him.
It took him five solid minutes of deep breathing before he'd scraped up some of his dignity and went back inside. Harry met him in the hall, coat on and phone in hand. "Sorry, mate," he said to Niall as he brushed past, clapping a hand on Niall's shoulder. "I've got to run. Emergency apparently. I'll get Dyl to send your stuff over when you're done."
Of course, with Harry gone, Niall was fucking brilliant. Not that it mattered.
And now. Encounter number five. In a Waitrose. On Christmas Eve.
Harry looked fucking fantastic. He was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a grey t-shirt, a long wool coat open over top. He had his curls pulled back into a bun again so Niall got an unimpeded view as Harry licked his lips, the pink flesh glistening afterward. A fucking greek god. Niall glanced down at himself — joggers, ratty snow boots, puffy jacket — and immediately began calculating how long he would have to wander around the store before Harry's transaction was finished so that they wouldn't have to talk to each other.
He should have known better than to hope for a good outcome. Because, of course, Harry turned his head and saw Niall standing there like an idiot, eyes wide, body posed to run at a seconds notice. Niall didn't believe his eyes when he saw Harry's face stretch out into a grin. And then Harry said, "Niall!" brightly, like he was happy to see him, and Niall wasn't sure what to do with that at all.
Stay. Run. Stay. Run. There were way too many factors here. He couldn't do this. He couldn't handle this. How was his brain supposed to be operational when Harry was looking so fucking good and was smiling at him?
The decision was made for him because the clementine lady from earlier was back with a vengeance and she managed to ram her shopping trolley right into Niall's thighs, sending him flying forward. Harry's eyes widened and he lunged out immediately to try and help Niall but it was too late. Niall was doomed to hit the floor no matter what. He didn't even care. What he was more horrified by was the fact that his cranberry sauce was sailing through the air, his grip having failed him, and it was too far to catch. "No, no, no!" he shouted as he leaped for it. He was in close range to watch the glass jar hit the ground and immediately shatter, cranberry sauce flying everywhere.
He landed about two seconds later with a thud, knocking the air right from his lungs so that he was forced to lay sprawled, stunned, for a long moment. He was forcibly rolled over before he was ready and he coughed straight in Harry's face as air whooshed back into his chest. "Jesus, Niall, are you alright?"
"Sorry," Niall panted. He moved to sit up, realized he wasn't ready, and just flopped back down, staring at the fluorescent lights above his head. A head swam into his line of sight, shadows casted over Harry's angular face.
"Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?"
"I'm fine." Embarrassed, but that wasn't technically an injury.
"Let me help you up," Harry said, taking Niall's hands before he could make an argument against it. Harry rose to his feet easily and then pulled Niall up forcibly until Niall was standing shaky on his own two feet. "What rotten luck," Harry commented as he looked Niall up and down. That was certainly one way to put it.
"Are you going to buy something?" Clementine lady was a snarky bitch and she was making her move. "Because if you're not, don't block the way."
Harry looked incredulously at the woman, and then at Niall, and then at the woman. "Did you not — are you seriously —"
"Just leave it," Niall interrupted because Harry really didn't have a mean bone in his body and Niall didn't see this turning out well if Harry managed to lose his temper. "It's Christmas Eve and it's honestly not worth it."
"I'll wait for you to get another jar of cranberries then," Harry said, nodding toward the aisles. "Or I can run and get one for you."
"That was the last one," Niall said with a shrug.
"Oh," Harry added dejectedly.
"Excuse me, sir, but you're going to have to pay for that." Niall looked over at the girl working the register and wondered why there were people like this in the world. It was fucking Christmas Eve. She couldn't spot him a two quid jar of cranberries? But she was wearing a serious look so Niall began shoving around in his pockets, looking for change.
"Put it on my bill,"Harry said as he put his own purchase onto the belt. A jar of cranberries.
"You forgot cranberries too?" Niall said a little dazed when Harry turned back toward him, the girl searching for the code for Niall's cranberries so she could charge them for it.
Harry smiled back cheekily. "Silly me," he commented sort of off hand. He reached up to brush some of the cranberry sauce from Niall's face and snagged a piece of glass that had lodged into Niall's cheek. He hissed when it was tugged out and Harry grimaced. "Sorry. Didn't see that."
"Nah, it's alright." Niall shrugged his shoulders to seem nonchalant but he had cranberries in his hair so he didn't know how successful he could be. It must have done something because Harry fought ineffectively to keep a smile off his face but it eventually slid into place. And it was radiant.
"That'll be four quid," the register girl said in a bored tone. Harry pulled a tenner from his pocket and handed it over, receiving his change and then plucking up his jar of cranberry sauce. Niall followed behind as Harry walked away from the cash and toward the door. Harry paused just beside the outer door and buttoned his coat. With that done, he held out the jar of cranberries to Niall.
"Take it."
"What?" Niall said stupidly as he frowned at the jar.
"I don't really need it. I just thought it would be a nice touch. You should take it for your meal." Niall refused to take it from Harry who was waving it around in front of him now, trying to get Niall to accept it. "Consider it pay back for that london fog you gave me. By the way, I've gotten addicted so thanks a lot." Niall couldn't believe that Harry remembered that. It was nearly two months ago and Harry had been distracted. Niall never expected Harry to return the favour in any way. "Come on," Harry whined, "take it. Then you and your family will have the perfect turkey."
Niall was about to correct him and admit that he was spending Christmas all by his lonesome when the other part of that sentence clicked in. "Turkey," he muttered frantically, his eyes widening in panic. "I forgot the turkey. The turkey is in the oven. I forgot the turkey!"
He took off at a run, leaving Harry in the dust as he sprinted out into the snow. He was already picturing the worst, a flat burnt to a crisp and everything inside destroyed. He barely managed rent — he couldn't replace all his stuff.
He slid and slipped his way across the parking lot, his boots having no traction in the steadily falling snow. He nearly wiped out when his toe caught the curb but he managed to steady himself, sprinting across the empty street and running in the direction of his flat. He couldn't see any smoke so the building wasn't on fire but that didn't mean anything really.
A horn beeping caught his attention and he craned his head around to the street without pausing his running. A Range Rover was following him and he wasn't surprised to see Harry in the driver's seat when he rolled down the passenger window. "Get in," Harry called out.
"But, my flat —"
"I'll drive you," Harry clarified because Niall's panicked brain couldn't make that connection for him. Niall veered over as Harry stopped the car and hopped into the passenger seat. He gave Harry his address and then buckled his seatbelt, sitting back against the seat. He was out of breath from running so he couldn't manage conversation for the short drive to his flat. Harry didn't seem to care, content to sit in silence as he drove, searching for the sign for Niall's street.
Niall pointed out his building and then jumped out before Harry had fully stopped the car. The lock beeped as Niall stuck his key in the door of his building and he realized that Harry had gotten out of the car and followed him. He didn't have the attention to care, simply holding the door for Harry before jogging up the stairs to his flat. He raced to the kitchen once inside, coughing at the smoke billowing out of the oven. He threw open the door and jumped back when he saw the flames rising from the turkey.
"Move," Harry barked and Niall slid aside just in time before Harry blasted the oven with the fire extinguisher that he had automatically thought to look for beneath the sink. Niall hadn't even remembered it was there.
It looked pretty bad once Harry had put the fire out, white foam on absolutely everything, including the lump of a turkey in the middle of the oven. Niall leaned back against his counter with a heavy sigh, putting his face in his hands. "Fuck," he cursed.
"At least your flat wasn't on fire," Harry offered as a positive to this absolutely fucking awful situation. Niall looked up reproachfully and Harry just grinned back cheekily. "How about this?" Harry suggested, crossing his hands behind his back which stretched his shoulders out in an amazing way. "Why don't you come to mine for dinner? Leave all this clean up for tomorrow."
It took Niall's mind a moment to decipher exactly what Harry had just proposed. "Me? Come to yours? For dinner?"
"Yes," Harry chuckled.
"I don't want to intrude on your family time."
"Just me," Harry corrected with a gentle shake of his head. "I'm spending Christmas alone this year. I just needed a break. It's been so crazy and I just can't deal with everything right now. But I wouldn't mind the company," he added as if he sensed the 'no thanks' that had been on the tip of Niall's tongue. "C'mon Niall. Would you rather stay here where it smells like burnt turkey, or come eat a properly cooked turkey?"
"You've done enough for me already," Niall grumbled.
"I haven't done anything. What do I have to do to convince you?" He pulled the jar of cranberry sauce from his coat pocket and waved it invitingly. "If you come over, we wouldn't have to fight about who kept the jar of cranberries. We could just eat it together."
Niall could have corrected him and said that he bought the cranberries so there was no fight to be had in the first place. But he was tired. And hungry. And sad. And Harry was like a bright shining light in his darkness, wearing the best jeans Niall had ever seen and a happy smile that Niall just wanted to kiss off his face. So he found himself acquiescing. "For the sake of the cranberries."
Harry pumped his fist in victory and then held his hand out toward Niall. Warily, Niall slid his hand into Harry's and let the taller boy pull him away from the mess of a kitchen and toward the door of the flat. He kept his hand wrapped around Niall's the entire time that Niall locked the door and the two of them walked out to the car. It was only after Harry had opened the passenger door for Niall that they disconnected. Niall longed for Harry's hand again but he didn't make the first move. He was nervous. It had been a long time since he'd been nervous around someone he was interested in but then again, Harry was a whole other story.
"If I knew that all it took was a house fire and a broken jar of cranberries to get you to agree to a first date," Harry said with a cheeky grin when they were about ten minutes from Niall's flat, "I'd have done it sooner."
"D-Date?"
"First date," Harry reiterated, glancing sideways at Niall for a moment before his eyes drifted back to the road. "If that's alright."
"Yeah," Niall said breathlessly without a moment's hesitation, looking over at Harry as if he was the greatest thing Niall had ever seen. Which was quite possible. "That's alright."
"Good," Harry said with finality. "You should probably know," he added after a moment, "that I am not against sex on first dates."
"That's — that's, um, okay."
"If the chemistry is right," Harry continued.
"Of course."
"How do you think our chemistry is going to be tonight Niall?"
With the way Harry was looking at him for a few seconds between focusing on the road, and the way Niall's whole body felt hot, and the way Niall's dick had just gotten hard, and the overwhelming need to touch Harry that took over his brain, Niall thought the chemistry was going to go pretty damn well.
"I have high hopes."
"Happy Christmas to us," Harry said with a grin that Niall imprinted into his memory. It was an image he was going to be bringing up often from now on. And one that he was going to be seeing in person a lot more than he would have ever anticipated.
God bless cranberries.