A/N/ :
I am currently behind in votes at the 1DBromanceAwards. The outcome of the awards in five days, 3/16/11, will depict the length, the information, and the quality of the next chapter. There will be no updates until I receive enough votes to feel comfortable and proud of my fans. Currently, there are no plans to begin a chapter thirteen of, “The Gifts,” by BeTheChange.
Currently the score is:
ZIall:
Little Things: 10
Save Me: 2
Another Bad Boy Story: 6
Narry:
The Train: 21
Love Will Always Stay: 3
The Gifts: 13
Vote.
Ziall- The Little Things
Narry- The Gifts.
Chapter 12
Harry lazily flicks on the TV, rubbing his head because that nightmare was just so vivid, and curls into the arm of the couch with his blue blanket. There’s ice frosting the windows, and his mother and sister had already left for work, so he was home alone. He clutched a bowl of fruit loops in his hands. His long fingers wrapped around the bowl. A news anchor became sharp on the TV.
-it’s a tragedy really. Three missing children, and a dead teenager. What has this world come to?” The man runs his fingers through his thinning hair. “It’s been two weeks with no new information provided. Liam Payne, Zayn Malik, and Louis Tomlinson are the men on the screen in order from left to right.”
A shaved brunette, a raven haired lad, and a feathered brunette all stare at him from inside the TV. His brain matches them fuzzily with the men from his nightmare. His head starts to throb and he lies down. He turns away from the telle.
“And then, finally, seventeen year old Harry Styles was found, alive, along with his dead boyfriend, Niall, abandoned in an alley. Defiled, Niall Horan managed to crawl, practically dead, to his unconscious boyfriend, Harry, and give him CPR. In then he laid his head to rest, his ear over Harry’s heart, and closed his eyes for the last time.” The anchor stacked a few papers and pinched his nose.
“Niall’s funeral will be held on the corner of first and Amastad, tonight, at promptly seven thirty.” Harry jerked his head up, throwing his eyes to the TV.
A picture of a blond, quaffed, dyed hair and plastic covered teeth smiled at him. His heart pounded in his chest.
“Babe?” Someone called from the top of the stairs. Harry leapt out of his skin. He whipped his head to the side, and watched a blond descend the stairs. “You look like you saw a ghost!” Niall whispered, his lithe frame rumpling as he leapt over the back of the couch, landing at Harry’s feet. Harry’s stomach did flips, and he looked lamely back at the TV. It was turned off, the remote on the side table several feet away.
Niall looked up, giggled and proceeded to crawl on top of Harry, planting their lips together. His pale fingers slipped underneath Harry’s shirt, landscaping Harry’s torso with cold hands. Harry shivered, his back arching up into the blonds touch. Niall’s mouth went to Harry’s neck, biting and sucking and licking. His dainty, nimble fingers slipped into Harry’s boxer, his hot breath on Harry’s collarbones.
“Niall… Oh god-“ Harry panted as Niall hummed into his ear, shifting his hands, teasing Harry, barely touching him. “-please touch me… Oh god…” Niall let his fingers wrap around Harry in then-poof. He was gone. Nothing but Harry’s bulge and his pulled up shirt indicated that Niall had ever been there.
“Harry! Come and find me!” Niall taunted, suddenly beside the door, his hands on the door knob. He ripped it open, running bare foot in his sweats into the cold, rain thudding and pounding against the sidewalk.
Harry tore out of the house, leaving the door open, rain sliding down his face and neck. He was drenched as he followed Niall down the street, listening to his peals of laughter. His foot got cut by some glass, his heel stung, and his curls were slick and oily against his skin.
“Niall, stop!” The boy turned another corner, looking over his shoulder with playful eyes.
“No, Harry, chase me! Chase me!” He giggled again, and slammed into a door, flinging it open. Harry followed suit, his jammy pant cuffs dragging on the floor, his cold toes pressing into carpet. He was in an empty parlor, a folded napkin a few feet away, a mustard stain beside his foot.
In the middle of the room sat a wooden casket, the top propped open. Niall stood beside it, his hands on the sides, peering in. “Look Harreh! Come look!” He held out his hand, wiggling his fingers, and Harry stumbled forward to grip them. Niall jerked his body forward, and he slammed against the mahogany, squeezing the breath out. His eyes caught on the body inside.
Closed eye lids and dyed blond hair and thin, pale fingers with a lithe frame.
“Look, babe, it’s me! You found me!” Niall giggles, and his fingers are gone, and where they used to be there is nothing but sadness and longing and confusion. Harry spins in a circle, panicked, his wet hair slapping against his skin.
“Niall?” He screams desperately. “Niall? This isn’t funny anymore!” In walks a brunette with blue eyes and a bulky frame.
“Harry? You’re soaking wet! Why are you here?” Greg demands, his tie is loosened around his neck and his eyes are blood shot, his lids rimmed with purple and black. Harry leans off his bleeding heel and stares into the casket.
“Niall,” He whispers solemnly, “Stop playing hide and seek.” There’s a pain in his chest that just won’t go away. Greg wraps strong arms around his body, leading him to the floor, where they kneel. “He’s here, Greg, he’s real! He’s alive!” Tears stream down his face as he pushes the strong arms away.
“I know, I know,” The older boy whispers, and he pulls away. His face is childlike, it’s… Niall’s.
“Niall?” Harry asks Greg raising fingers to his face when it all comes back to normal again. There’s a voice in his ears.
“Can we go home now, Harry?” A finger trailing down his spine. Harry jerks away from Greg, watches Niall leave the building and he chases after, listening to Greg’s screams of protest. It smells like mowed grass and concrete and mud outside, and Niall is skipping down the street, always several steps ahead of Harry.
“Liam! Louis! Zayn!” He shouts, and out emerge the three boys, shutting their front doors and following Niall. They all scream for Harry to hurry, taunt him, and tease him. Harry tries to run, but he’s just not fast enough. “Harry! Hurry! Harry!” Niall demands.
Suddenly Liam, Louis, and Zayn turn on Niall. They force him to the ground. They rip off his clothes, they kiss him and touch his body and Niall is screaming, “Please! Harry! Please!” And Harry’s feet are like concrete blocks and he’s screaming but it makes no noise.
Harry opens his eyes, and see’s a bared ceiling above him. “Niall! Niall! Niall!” He screams. He’s out of breath and desperate for the love of his life, now, now, now! “Niall! I’m trying!”
“Shh… Mate… it’s okay!” There’s a hand on his shoulder and Harry sits up.
“Niall! Niall!” There’s lips on his, and a body on his.
“Harry, Harry, Harry,” Niall chants, his legs wrapped around Harry’s torso, his fingers and mouth hungry. “Can love be sweet? Can love be kind?” His blue eyes plead. “Can you show me real love?” Harry unbuttons his pants, licks his fingers, preps him, lets Niall’s moan fill him up until he fills Niall himself.
“It hurts!” Niall whispers and Harry peppers kisses all over him, and then Niall is finally enjoying himself.
Harry jerks himself awake.
“I’m innocent! Please! I’m saving myself..” Niall is screaming again and begging Harry for help, but he’s caged and he can’t help. “I’m a vir-“ His voice cuts off with a low, pained groan and shriek.
Harry’s eyes flutter open.
“I love you.” Niall whispers, kissing his lips daintily. His wrist is covered in red scabs and battle scars, and he’s just one big bruise. “But please don’t hit me again.”
“I have to hit someone.” Harry whispers, running his fingers over his lips.
“You’re right. I’m sorry for being selfish.”
Harry sits up swiftly.
Niall is naked beside him. Hand on Harry’s tummy, and his mouth open. His body pale against black cheeks, face covered with yellow sunlight.
“I love touching you.” Harry whispers. The words taste sour sweet.
Harry is startled awake.
“Can we stay .like this forever?” Niall has his hand entwine with Harry, heads touching each-others, green gas on their backs and warm sun on their faces.
“I’d stay any way with you forever.” Harry whispers.
“Then let’s stay like this.”
Harry’s eyes fly open.
The room he’s in is bright and padded, and someone is touching his hair. Their soft fingers in his curls.
“Niall?” Harry whispers.
“Harry?” Niall squeals. “You’re awake!” He throws himself on top of the younger boy, clutching him too his heart. “Am I dreaming?”
“I think so.” Harry says, nodding, pressing chaste kisses all over his face and neck, kissing all of his fingers.
“I want to marry you some day. I want kids and a cat named Darcy.” Harry demands, his lips on Niall’s sweetly.
“I want a porch swing and a diamond wedding band with an ingravment and a trip to the states for our anniversary.” Niall says, as Harry wraps his body around his. Protecting him, keeping him safe. Niall hears voices, and his butt hurts from being raped and he’s not sure if any of this is real.
“I don’t think this is real.” Niall whispers. Harry nods.
Zayn clamps a hand over his mouth and holds his knees to his chest, smiling, because this is real.
Sort of.