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Niall is the one to suggest the trip to Vegas. He and Harry are lounging in the living room of their shared flat, feet kicked up on the coffee table as they sit in nothing but their boxers and watch The Hangover (Niall, happily; Harry, reluctantly, but fake happily for the sake of Niall). It’s a normal occasion, honestly—friends hanging out with each other almost naked is okay. At least to Niall and Harry it is.
“Vegas looks fun,” is what Niall says halfway through the film, scratching at the sparse hair of his happy trail. But then he adds, “Not this Vegas though. No drugs or tigers. Both of those things are bad. But gambling and alcohol? I could work with that. We should go to Vegas.”
Harry looks at him for a second. His brows are furrowed and his expression is slowly growing into a confused one. “Wait,” he says then after a few moments, “tigers are not bad. They’re just big ginger cats with black stripes.”
“Harry,” Niall groans and Harry snickers because he really didn’t mean to stray from what Niall is talking about. His attention span just isn’t very long and, well, tigers are really just big ginger cats with black stripes. “I’m being serious. Do you think the shop would let you take a few days off so we can go? We can drag along Lou and Liam. Maybe Zayn’ll come too.”
“Niall, you’re missing the movie,” huffs Harry. Niall hits him for that and gives him a look. “Oh, come on,” Harry says childishly. “What money are we going to go to Vegas with? It’s going to cost thousands of American dollars to even get a weekend with rooms for the lot of us.”
Rolling his eyes, Niall takes his feet off of the coffee table and looks straight at Harry. “That’s why we share!” he states as if it were the obvious solution. “Louis and Liam would obviously share a room. You and I can share a bed for a couple of nights, too.” And they can. They’ve been friends for more than enough years to sleep naked together, so it really isn’t a big deal at all. “Zayn can have his own room, I suppose. That’s if he helps pay.”
“Niall,” Harry says, sighing. He brings his own feet down from the coffee table and brings one up so he can twist his body to look at Niall. “Do you have any idea how much planning this is going to take? Booking a hotel room, a flight, gathering enough money; that’s a lot of work to do.”
Niall seems distraught. Harry hates the look that paints over his face because it’s disappointed and saddened. But Harry hates it more because it’s the same look Niall has given him over the past decade that has gotten him to do anything he wants him to do. Harry ought to punch him for it one of these days.
Before Harry can say anything though, Niall sighs and shakes his head. “No, you’re right,” he tells him sadly. “We haven’t got the money or the time. You’re working. I’m working, kind of.” His face is still the same, still gnawing away at Harry’s resolve, which is quickly wearing thin. “Besides, London is way cooler than casinos and strip clubs and the possibility to find a tiger in our bathroom. A trip to Big Ben is free!”
The disappointment in Niall’s voice is heavy and there’s a flashing red sign in Harry’s brain that reads, YOU CAN SAY NO TO NIALL in big, black letters. But, as always, he ignores it. He has to. He can’t do anything but ignore it, so he groans inwardly and takes a deep breath.
“Alright, we can go,” he responds and a second later he’s being tackled down to the floor in a messy, painful hug as Niall places slobbery kisses all over his face.
“I knew I chose the right best friend!” Niall exclaims happily. Harry should definitely punch him.
It takes three months to plan the trip. Three, long, never ending months of Niall bouncing off the walls with excitement deep inside his bones. They save up the money, the five of them, after Niall convinced the other three to come along with them. Louis was on board as soon as Niall said let’s go to Vegas. Liam listens to whatever Louis says, so he wasn’t at all reluctant to say yes as well (Niall and Harry teased him for being so whipped for the rest of the day). Zayn only said yes because he didn’t want them to go off and have fun without them.
They book hotel rooms and a flight when it’s all saved up and Harry has never seen Niall so overjoyed for something in his entire life. It’s quite wonderful, actually. Harry knows he wouldn’t be so glad if he hadn’t agreed to go and knowing that it was him that put a that beaming smile on Niall’s face makes him swell of pride and his own sense of bliss.
As soon as all of them are approved for time off work (besides Zayn, since he’s really a free lance artist), they’re set to go. They pack, they leave for the airport, and they’re off.
The entire flight there is Niall being giddy and talking Harry’s ear off about everything they have to do as soon as they get to Vegas. Harry is happy that Niall is happy. There’s no better feeling in world than seeing his eyes shine with glee and Harry is proud of himself all the time for being the reason it’s there.
“We’re in Vegas!”
Niall launches himself onto the bed in their hotel room, smothering his face into the clean sheets and inhaling their scent deeply. Harry watches him and chuckles, throwing his luggage carelessly near the end of the bed (the one bed, Niall obviously wasn’t kidding when he said they’d share). They arrived in Vegas roughly two hours after the time they left London, despite the ten hour flight.
“That we are,” he states, taking a deep breath. His toes curl inside of his boots as he grins to himself. “I hope you’re ready to live up to your word of parties and fun and whatever else you said on the way over here, because I will be extremely disappointed if you dragged me out here to let you sleep.”
He waits for a response. When it doesn’t come, he’s confused and looks back to see Niall fast asleep. The only response he gets is a snore.
Harry ends up falling asleep, too, after changing and getting comfortable. The both of them are woken up by Louis’ shouts from the other side of their door, telling them that it’s four in the afternoon and that if they don’t get their lazy arses up, they’re going to be left. Of course, they comply and speed to shower and get dressed in their best “first day in Las Vegas” attire.
They all go out that evening. The five of them are having the time of their lives. It’s when the five of them are at a casino (Circus Circus of all places, Louis is really a child), laughing and throwing their money away that Harry realizes they couldn’t have chosen a better time to do this. They’re all a year out of university, in their early twenties and don’t have that many things to worry about at this point in their lives. It’s nice and it makes all of them feel relaxed and happy for the first time in a while.
After a few nice hours of being tourists and gamblers, they all go their separate ways. Liam announces he made reservations long ago at a restaurant for himself and Louis and Zayn wants to go back to the hotel so he can rest. It leaves Niall and Harry to do their own thing, like they’ve always done, and they’re glad about it.
“It’s just you and me, pal,” Harry raves once they’re alone in the middle of the strip. Niall turns to him and gives him a wicked smirk.
“That it is, pal,” he snickers. Harry expects the worst from this point on.
Harry gets what he expected. Five hundred dollars worth of gambling, two crappy cheeseburgers, at least six and a half watery pints in a wannabe Irish pub (“American beer is shit, I’m telling you, Haz,” Niall had grumbled, dissatisfied in what he was being served. “I’ll take you back to me home one day and show you what a real Irish pub is like.”) and three rounds of karaoke later, Niall and Harry are completely smashed. They’re stumbling and barely making any sense as they speak to other people, but they understand each other one hundred percent. It’s the first time in a long time either of them has gotten the chance to get absolutely pissed, and it feels bloody fantastic. The fact that they won’t remember more than half of the embarrassing things they did in the morning is what keeps them going.
Soon they’re in a cab on their way home at around three A.M., draped across one another as they giggle drunkenly against each other’s necks.
“I love ya, man,” Niall stammers into Harry’s shoulder, making Harry giggle some more and rest his head on top of Niall’s.
“Love you too, Ni,” he replies with a hiccup. “This has been the best night - the best night ever.”
Niall makes to reply, but he only ends up laughing against Harry’s shirt that smells faintly of shampoo and cologne. He remains that way for a few moments before he’s startled by Harry’s shout for the driver to stop the car.
“Look,” Harry squawked in excitement. He’s pointing at a chapel.
Niall gulps, startled sober for a split second, but the next thing he knows, they’re getting out of the cab.
Harry wakes up with a pounding headache the next morning and there’s strong arms wrapped around his waist. He knows exactly who it is, and it isn’t weird, but then there’s something hard and thick under the curve of his bum and it makes him wake up a little more abruptly.
He quickly peels himself away from Niall’s body before he notices he’s naked. Turning around, he notes the same thing about Niall. Harry’s heart pounds in his chest. This shouldn’t be weird. And it wouldn’t be weird if he had any recollection of what happened the night before, but he doesn’t and it makes his gut churn nervously.
He makes to run a hand through his hair to ease his headache and calm himself down, but he stops when he sees something shining on the ring finger of his left hand. It’s a ring. He swallows thickly.
“Fuck…” he whispers to himself, sliding the gold band off of his finger and inspecting it. Engraved on the outside is Naill’s. He wants to slap himself for being more worried about the way Niall’s name is spelt (Niall’s name, he’s sure, unless he’d recently gotten engaged to a bag of nails, which isn’t likely in the least) than the fact that he’s wearing a ring that may possibly suggest he belongs to Niall now.
He then checks Niall’s hand. Another wave of nervousness crashes over Harry when he sees a gold band on Niall’s left ring finger. He fights the urge to shake him awake because it’s never safe to wake up a hungover Niall, and he just lifts his hand carefully in order to see the Harvey’s engraved on one side of the ring.
Shit.
Harry scurries to put on his pants and rush out of the room to Liam and Louis’ hotel room next door. He bangs on the door until a disheveled Louis finally answers it, and he shoves himself inside, slamming the door behind him.
“I think Niall and I are married,” he says like projectile word vomit. Louis stands before him tired and confused.
“What the fuck?” is all he says in response. Harry groans.
“I said, I think Niall and I are bloody married!” Harry shouts but it makes his head throb with pain and he groans again.
“You think…” Louis trails off before he spots the ring on Harry’s finger and wakes up a little more. “Holy shit, are you and Niall married?”
Harry takes off the ring, forcing it into Louis’ hands. “The ring has his name. He has one too, and it says mine. Kind of.”
“This ring says ‘Naill’s,’” Louis informs Harry of something he already knew. “That’s not how you spell Niall, Harry.”
“Louis, I honestly don’t have time for you to be a knob right now. I could be married and you’re making jokes,” complains Harry, pouting heavily at Louis. He is distressed more than ever right now and he can’t possibly think of something worse than him and Niall getting married while drunk in Vegas to ruin their entire trip.
“I was just stating facts,” Louis scoffs and he tries to say something else, but then Liam is walking into the main room of the hotel, half naked and looking like a tired pup.
“What’re you two yelling about?” he says around a loud yawn.
“Harry’s gone and got himself married before us, Li,” Louis whines, tossing Harry his ring back. Harry can’t believe Louis is so calm after what he’d just told him when Harry is probably going to explode because he went and married his best friend.
“To who? Niall?” Liam asks. Louis nods his confirmation. “Well that’s not fair at all. You two didn’t put the hard work into a relationship like Lou and I did to get this far in a day.”
“Wait, wha--” Harry is cut off by Louis.
“Are you saying being in a relationship with me is hard?”
“Louis, no, I--”
“Yes you were! I can’t believe you. You think being with me is hard work.”
Harry stares between the couple in pure disbelief. He tells them he’s married to Niall and they don’t even bat an eye. They continue their bickering as if he isn’t there and Harry storms out of the room with a heavy sigh, shaking his head to himself. It’s either they didn’t care, or they damn well expected something like that to happen. The latter scares Harry nearly to death.
As he walks back into his and Niall’s room, he sees Niall sitting up in bed, fear written on his face while he examines his left hand. Niall hears Harry though and looks up, eyes widening even more.
“Hey,” Harry says and stands at the foot of the bed.
“Hey,” Niall responds, voice slow and gravelly. “Uh, have you any idea why I’ve got a ring that says ‘Harvey’s’ on my finger?”
Harry’s gut twists again. He swallows and shakes his head. “I was going to ask you why I have a ring that says ‘Naill’s,’” he tells him, raising his hand to show Niall his ring.
“Shit.”
For some reason, Harry is relieved that Niall is just as shocked and scared as he was when the realization hit him and he’s just glad he doesn’t have to be worried alone. They’re doing things in sync, as always.
“Harry, are we married?” asks Niall. Harry gives him a look that Niall can read as I think so. “Can you - uh - can you go make sure there’s not a tiger in the loo?”
Harry can’t help but laugh. They laugh together after a few moments because only Niall would be able to make a Hangover reference after finding out he’s married to his best friend in Vegas. Harry admires that. It’s one of the things Harry loves most about Niall.
When he thinks about that, the pit of his stomach lurches again. But it’s different this time. It isn’t the same sick feeling from earlier. It actually feels...nice. Watching Niall’s lips curl into a relaxing smile makes him slightly less scared about the situation.
“I’m sure there’s no tiger in our bathroom,” he finally says, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“Shit,” Niall repeats and looks down at his now covered lap. “So we got drunk and got married. Did we, y’know, do what newlyweds usually do on their wedding night?”
Harry’s cheeks tint red at this and he doesn’t exactly know why. He can’t remember if they had sex or not, but if they did, it wouldn’t actually be as weird as most people would think it is.
(Mostly because it’s already happened. When they were eighteen and Niall was going through his “everyone else is losing their virginity except me” phase, the two of them turned to each other to fix that problem for both of them. It wasn’t all that great because it was two boys experimenting with each other for the first time, only mirroring what they’d seen in porn, but it was special and something neither of them would forget. Niall, of course, ended up making a joke out of it and thanked Harry for taking his bro-ginity the next day. It was a onetime, best friend helping his best friend thing.)
“I don’t think so,” Harry finally croaked. “My bum doesn’t feel funny. Does yours?” He’s only trying to joke as well to ease the tension like Niall had. It works, because Niall chuckles and shakes his head.
“Nope, me bum’s fine,” he says softly.
They go silent after that.
The rest of their weekend doesn’t go as planned at all. Louis is angry with Liam over the fight they had, so he turns to Harry, leaving Niall to go to Zayn and Liam all alone. They barely leave the hotel, too. If they do, it’s Harry and Louis going to shop on Louis’ demand or for food since none of them can afford the overpriced room service.
They don’t talk about the marriage either. Louis doesn’t seem to care but neither Liam nor Zayn come by Harry’s room to see how he’s handling it. And that’s fine, really, because he’s fine. At least he’s trying to be.
They leave for London on Sunday evening with a lot more than they came with.
On the plane, Niall and Harry are sat next to each other and are mostly silent until they aren’t. They try to speak at the same time, their words bumping into each other until they huff and look at each other.
“You go first,” Harry tells Niall with a comforting smile.
“Alright,” Niall says, taking a deep breath. “I talked to Zayn. I told him we accidentally got married. For some reason, he didn’t seem shocked or anything. I mean, he should’ve been shocked but he wasn’t. He only shrugged and told me that if we didn’t want to keep it this way, which I assume neither of us do, we can try and get an annulment. Apparently our marriage is legal, no matter where we live.”
Harry is shocked at how much Niall talked in one go, but he savors the words because they’re the most he’s gotten from him in two days.
“Right, we don’t want to stay married,” he states afterwards and he feels an odd tug in the pit of his stomach as he does so. He ignores it. “An annulment. That erases the entire thing, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay,” he breathes. “What if that doesn’t work?”
“Then we wait and file for divorce,” Niall explains, looking down at his lap before chuckling dryly. “A divorce at twenty three. That’s something wild to tell me parents about, eh?”
Harry’s heart aches at this. It wouldn’t be wild to him at all. His parents went through a divorce and Harry had to witness the entire thing. He’s lucky they don’t have any children to endure this, or that he’s not in love with Niall, but even the thought of it makes him feel woozy.
Niall must take note of this because he quickly grabs Harry’s left hand. “Haz,” he says gently, voice smooth and calming. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it that way. We’ll be fine, I promise.”
Harry sighs. “I’m okay, just don’t like thinking about certain things,” he says quietly. But Niall knows how to make him feel better, always. There hasn’t ever been a time Harry was sad and Niall wasn’t there to be the one to make sure he didn’t fall asleep that way. So Harry smiles when Niall tells him he knows exactly what will make him feel better.
“Have you checked your photo gallery at all since our wedding night?” he chuckles as he pulls out his phone. “Because I have and we are complete dolts when we’re drunk and pretending to be in love for the sake of the camera.”
They spend the rest of the flight scrolling through both of their phones, looking at photos and watching videos so they can laugh at how idiotic they are drunk and getting married. Apparently, they had written down what they wanted to be on each other’s rings after picking them out, which explains the entire typo situation, and there’s actually a photo of them full on kissing that wasn’t for the moment after they said, “I do.” There are multiple videos, but Harry’s favorite has to be the one of the two of them singing (shouting, screaming, yelling, screeching, anything but singing) Fine By Me by Andy Grammer. It makes his heart swell, seeing them look so happy together. It shouldn’t, but it does.
The only thing that stops them from looking at more pictures and videos is the elderly woman at the end seat that tells them they make a lovely couple. It isn’t until then that they even realize they have to slide their hands from one another’s to stop her from getting the wrong image.
“So, where’s your husband?” Louis giggles as he hops onto the counter in Harry’s apartment after Harry’s shift at the book store.
It’s been two weeks since they got back from Vegas, and a week since Niall and Harry completely agreed on trying for an annulment. They haven’t been much different if Harry is honest. They got over the awkward feeling they had in Vegas and just went back to being each other’s best friend, lounging together half naked in the living room while they watch stupid movies.
There was that time last week, though, when they were watching a movie and things got a bit strange during the sex scene. “I can’t help what gets me hard, you fuck,” Niall said huffily when Harry teased him about how easy he was. And that gave Harry a bit of an idea, didn’t it? “I could give you a hand, yeah?” He’d replied cheekily. “I’m your husband, after all.” After that it hadn’t taken much for Niall to let Harry jerk him off then return the favor—Harry on Niall’s lap, his cock in Niall’s hand, his mouth hot against Niall’s.
They didn’t talk about it after they came, just went to bed; they didn’t talk about it the next morning at breakfast, either.
Everything is completely normal though. That is, of course, until Louis decides to come around.
“Sod off,” Harry grumbles, cooking dinner for him (and Niall when he returns home). “Why don’t you tell me where yours is?”
Louis glowers at Harry and throws a grape from the bag in his hand at the back of his head. “You’re a real twat sometimes, you know that, right?” he sneers, huffing. “You know I hate the fact that Liam won’t propose. It’s been years, we’re adults, and I can wait fifty years before we actually get married! I just want to be engaged. It isn’t fair that all you had to do is fuck Niall when you were eighteen once to get him to marry you.”
“First of all, that is not how it happened at all,” Harry says, scolding Louis from the stove. “And second of all, you have the power to propose yourself, in case you forgot.”
Louis scoffs. “Oh god, no,” he says as if Harry had said the most revolting thing he’d ever heard. “I only get on my knees for one thing,” he adds, giggling like mad before Harry groans and throws the grape on the counter back at Louis.
“Enough, please,” he pleads. “Why are you here again? Don’t tell me you’re still mad at Liam for what happened in Vegas?”
“No, of course not,” Louis tells Harry, hopping from the counter to retrieve the jug of juice that’s in the refrigerator. “But I am mad at him. Earlier he told me I expect too much out of him when I told him we should get Loki a friend. I was only looking out for our dog, and he says that. So now I’m forced to hang out with Househusband Harry for the night until he texts and apologizes.”
“Will you please stop calling me a husband?” Harry groans in frustration, turns off the stove, and turns to look at Louis completely. Being called a husband shouldn’t bother him as much as it does, and he doesn’t know why either. He is a husband, only legally. Not technically. “Can’t you go be sorrowful with Zayn? I’m sure he has something deep and touching to say.”
“Tried that,” Louis says simply. He’s a real brat sometimes. “He’s working on a new piece. You know how he gets when he’s working. So I came here in hopes of seeing the newlyweds being newlywed-y, but Niall isn’t here. You were my last resort.”
Harry sighs. “Lovely,” he whispers, more to himself, in despair.
“Tosser,” Louis murmurs under his breath like the child he is. “Also, stop acting like being Niall’s husband is such a bad thing. If I had gotten the chance to go to sleep one night and wake up in the morning married to someone, I wouldn’t choose anyone other than my best friend. Which is why I’m glad Liam replaced that spot for you years ago while Niall replaced mine.”
Harry lets Louis’ words sink in. He can’t say he agrees with them now completely, but he understands them. He knows what he’s trying to say and it’s making Harry think a lot more than he should.
Before Harry can say anything, he’s startled by the sound of the front door opening and Niall’s loud voice playfully shouting, “Honey, I’m home!”
Louis gives Harry a look that Harry wants to slap off of his face.
“I’ll leave you lovebirds alone,” Louis quips and sets the jug in his hands down so he can give Harry’s shoulder a pat. He says hello to Niall with a smirk on his face on the way out, leaving Harry and Niall completely alone.
“What was Louis doing here?” Niall questions as he walks into the kitchen, immediately grabbing the jug Louis had left out to drink straight out of it.
Harry is still in a daze from Louis and what he had told him. It’s still in his mind and he hates how much his words got him thinking. He barely catches what Niall says because of it. “Oh, uh, he and Liam got into another fight,” he informs Niall and grabs two plates from their cupboards so he can serve them dinner.
“Wait,” Niall says, taking another large sip from the jug before he grins widely at Harry and snickers. “By fight, do you mean Liam said something that wasn’t very mean but Louis took it the wrong way and left Liam alone to feel bad?”
Harry breaks out in a fit of laughter at Niall’s accurate assumption and Niall joins him not long after, the two of them laughing like the best friends they are. The best friends they always will be.
“That’s exactly what happened,” Harry tells Niall as soon as he catches his breath, gasping with small wheezes and snorts as he composes himself. He looks up to find Niall smiling at him in a way that he hasn’t quite seen before. His eyes are soft and his smile wouldn’t be a smile at first glance, but it’s there and it’s somewhat fond. Harry goes red under his gaze and he coughs a little, breaking Niall from his trance.
“Christ, sorry,” Niall chuckles with a hint of nervousness in his voice. But Harry only smiles back, shaking his head as he sets their food on their plates and slides one over to Niall.
However, Niall picks up his plate and nods his head towards the living room. “I rented a movie, if you want to sit down and watch it,” he suggests. To Harry, that seems like an absolutely lovely idea.
They eat together on the couch watching Step Brothers that night. Or, at least Niall watches the movie. Harry is busy watching Niall. He watches the contours of his face shift with every laugh. Niall catches him a few times, but he only smiles wider and taps Harry’s nose once or twice. Harry feels his heart tighten and beat in a way it’s never done before each time he does.
He spends the entire two hours thinking about what a wonderful best friend he has, how he would never trade him for anything else in the world.
They fall asleep tangled together on the couch later on, and Harry hopes too much that Niall doesn’t feel and question the pulse of his heart throughout his body as he rests his head on his chest.
Harry gets a call from his mother three days later. The entire conversation goes from, “Harry, why did I have to hear from Louis that you got married?” to “Yes, okay, mum. Niall and I will come for a visit,” with no, “But it isn’t real. It all happened by mistake,” in between.
Harry decides there isn’t a better time to kill Louis than now.
He calls Louis in a fit of rage.
“Why in god’s name did you tell my mother I’m married to Niall?” he says angrily into the phone as soon as Louis answers. He’s on his break at work and he has zero patience for Louis. But apparently, Louis is willing to test that, because he snickers into the phone and huffs.
“I didn’t,” Louis replies snarky. “I told her you were married. I never said to whom.”
“Louis, the next time I see you, I am literally going to strangle you. I’ll leave Niall a prison husband because I’m locked away for murder,” Harry snarls at Louis. For a second he thinks he’s overreacting. Then he remembers that Louis might have just ruined all of his and Niall’s simple plans for an annulment without anyone ever finding out that they were married at all.
“Hey!” Louis titters. Harry can hear the smirk in his voice and it makes him flush with more frustration and anger. “You called Niall your husband, finally. It usually doesn’t take so long for married couples to do that.”
“I’m hanging up. Please pray that I leave for my mum’s before I see you again,” Harry whispers as calmly as possible into the phone, hanging up as promised before Louis can reply. He is absolutely screwed.
Niall texts him later on as he’s leaving work.
y has ur mum txtd me telling me she’s happy 4 me but i better treat u rite ???
Harry underestimated how screwed he is.
ignore it, please. louis did something stupid. i’ll fix it, promise
k, luv ya
Harry’s heart leaps for an odd reason. He and Niall aren’t usually so endearing. The casual “love ya, bro” is thrown around from time to time whenever a sandwich is made for one another out of the goodness of their hearts, but never randomly, like Niall had just displayed. Harry’s body is buzzing and he finds himself smiling stupidly down at his phone.
love you :) xx
Harry forgets that he was so angry earlier.
“Louis told my mum we got married,” Harry tells Niall as soon as he gets home. “And she believed it. She called me and cried on the phone.”
“Your mother cried on the phone?”
“Yes, she cried,” Harry whines, guilt heavy in his voice. “She told me she wants to see us. So we have to go visit her as husbands because I couldn’t tell her it was all a lie when she was crying, Niall.”
Harry watches Niall sigh at him. He frowns, following him like a sad puppy to the couch where Niall throws himself down. Harry quickly follows. “Niall, please just play along for two days. And we can get the annulment soon, avoid her for a couple of months, and tell her we decided to get a divorce but stay good friends. She never has to know it was fake,” Harry begs him.
Looking at Harry in disbelief, Niall scoffs. “You want to lie to your mum?” he asks. Harry pouts.
“No,” he says then, “I just want to not tell her the truth.”
“That’s lying.”
“Fine, okay, I want to lie,” Harry grunts in defeat. His face is sullen and he can see Niall’s eyes soften just like they did the night in the kitchen. It’s only a moment later when Niall is nodding his head and running a hand through his hair.
“Alright,” he says gently. “Just this one time. Then we go through with your plan, okay?”
Harry grins wider than ever and lunges at Niall, arms wrapped tight around his neck as he holds onto him tightly. He tells him he’s the best friend he could’ve ever asked for, pulls his head back and looks down at him. They both just stare at each other for a few moments, unspoken thoughts of how Niall’s lips look so kissable from where Harry is gazing down at him. These thoughts are buzzing around his brain for moments that feel like hours before Harry is dipping his head down capturing Niall’s lips with his own.
They haven’t kissed since the night they got off together but it feels addicting and Harry doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to get over the feeling of Niall’s lips on his own. Niall doesn't push him back either, but instead he pushes into it, kissing him back with a slight hum. Their lips melt together and Harry wants to kiss him forever and ever but he remembers whom he just referred to Niall as—his best friend. As far as Harry knows, that’s all he is to Niall too. So kissing like this out of the blue is not what best friends do, and Harry pulls back as soon as he realizes that.
“Sorry,” he pants against Niall’s swollen lips. His heart is pounding in his chest and it won’t slow down. He has no idea what Niall is thinking because he’s silent and he’s only staring up at Harry, completely speechless.
“It’s fine,” he finally whispers but it’s nearly inaudible.
The thing is Harry isn’t sorry at all. The only things he’s sorry for are not kissing him again and going to bed alone that night.
The next few days pass by as normal as they can make them. Fighting the urge to kiss who is supposedly your best friend isn’t quite normal for Harry, but the only person who needs to know he’s doing such things is himself. He manages to make it through to the weekend without attacking Niall again and they’re ready to leave for Holmes Chapel on Friday afternoon after they both get off from work.
Their (Harry’s) plan is in action already by just going there and nervous doesn’t quite describe what Harry’s feeling. By the time they get there, Harry is asleep in the passenger’s seat and Niall has to shake him awake to let him know they’re at his mother’s house. Harry fills with fear and dread yet again, glancing over at Niall with a nervous smile. “Ready to be pretend to be husbands?” he asks him, and when Niall nods, it’s time to finally go inside.
They’re greeted by Anne with open arms at the door. She tells Harry she can’t believe that he got married without letting her know or even throw a proper wedding for the both of them and all he can do is apologize.
Harry is surprised by how smoothly the night goes. Gemma is there to tease him about how she knew they’d always end up married (and Harry is really, really worried about why everyone expected this from them). While Anne and Robin treat them for dinner, Niall and Harry try to put on a show for all of them, making up stories of why they decided to get married so abruptly, holding hands and sharing a few kisses on the cheek.
It all feels so easy for Harry, it glides, like they didn’t even have to try at all.
Harry falls asleep with the faintest of smiles on his face, and he spends his time sleeping trying to figure out if it’s because him and Niall are great actors or because they aren’t.
In the morning, Harry wakes up before Niall, so he crawls out of bed and goes downstairs in a shirt that he doesn’t remember belongs to Niall and a pair of boxers. It’s only his mother downstairs, drinking coffee and reading the morning newspaper.
“Good morning, mum,” he mumbles, voice scratchy from lack of use. He offers her his best morning smile and begins to prepare his own cup of coffee.
“Good morning, dear,” Anne replies with her chipper, motherly voice. Harry doesn’t notice her follow him with her eyes. “That shirt looks loose on you, darling. Have you been losing weight?”
Harry stops what he’s doing and looks down at his shirt. It isn’t his shirt at all is what he finally realizes and he does everything he can to stop from turning red in front of his mother. “Oh, no,” he chokes out nervously, shaking his head. He has no reason to be nervous. Married couples share clothes he’s sure. “It’s Niall’s. Must’ve packed it in with my clothes by accident.”
“Oh, that’s sweet,” Anne says from behind her paper. Harry thinks it’s okay to let the tension ease from his shoulders until -- “You two act like an actual married couple a lot, don’t you?”
Harry’s stomach drops. There wasn’t any possible way she knew their secret. Louis had told her --
“How long did you think you could lie to me, Harry?” The newspaper is down now. She’s looking at Harry with a smug smirk that makes Harry gulp and fear nothing but his mother in that very moment.
“Mum, I can explain,” he sputters out but Anne just giggles and shakes her head.
“No need to. Louis told me everything,” she tells him, sighing in satisfaction. “He told me everything from what happened in Vegas to you wanting to ruin the one chance you have with Niall.”
Harry nearly chokes. “Mum, what?”
“Oh, don’t be coy, sweetheart,” Anne scoffs with disdain. “You don’t think I see the way you’ve always looked at Niall? Or noticed how on every single call you’ve ever made to me you can’t hang up without mentioning how lovely Niall is? Forgive me if I’m exaggerating but if you love Niall, please do not hold it back now.”
There is a lump in Harry’s throat and he can’t distinguish it between his heart and his stomach. He’s speechless for once, only left to think about everything he’s been told by Louis and his mother. His mind is moving at such a high speed that he might even faint.
But it isn’t like nothing makes sense because honestly, it’s all coming together. Apparently, everyone has seen the love, the actual love he has for Niall except himself. It took a drunken mistake in Las Vegas for everything to fall into place, for Harry to finally realize that Niall has probably been more than just a best friend to him since the night they slept together back when they were eighteen. It’s all coming at him so fast that he feels dizzy.
He loves Niall. He’s loved Niall.
“Harry, love, are you okay?” Anne’s voice lets him know that he’s still in her kitchen and none of it is over yet.
“I love Niall,” he whispers, eyes shifting from the ground to his mother’s face. “I love Niall.”
“A mother’s always right,” Anne giggles again, getting up to pull her son into her arms as she kisses his forehead. “But if you ever lie to me again, Harry, you are in a heap of trouble, understand?”
All Harry can do is nod.
Harry doesn’t tell Niall what happened with his mother because Anne told him not to. So he does as he’s told and keeps it secret, going home with that secret in mind as he drives them back to London. Harry is still in disbelief, however, and he feels as if it were all a dream. But it isn’t because they’ve still got those ridiculous rings on and the metal is still making Harry’s skin itch with the need to tell Niall everything.
He miraculously keeps it all in. They’re back at their flat, sat on the couch and resting when he finally decides to say something.
“Do you think us getting married was a bad thing?” he questions quietly, head lolling to the side so he can look at Niall. He gulps, nervous for an answer because if in the end Niall doesn't feel the same way at all, Harry will feel like a complete joke. It’ll leave him feeling the worst he’s ever been.
“No,” Niall finally answers after a few moments. “Not exactly, I mean,” he adds, chuckling.
“Well, what do you mean?”
Niall doesn’t seem to have expected that. He sits up a little straighter, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, in general, it wasn’t bad. I mean, getting off with you was an ace addition,” he snickers. But it makes Harry frown.
“Is that it? Was that the only good thing?” he asks, voice timid and nervous as he speaks.
“Harry,” Niall says then, looks at him in confusion, frowning himself. “Why are you asking all of this? Because I don't know the right answers to your questions if you want me to be honest.”
“I just want the truth. That’s the right answer.” Harry doesn’t mean to snap on Niall. It’s just the fear of rejection speaking for him.
“The truth, alright,” Niall huffs, swallowing noticeably. “Being married to you has been fantastic, alright? It’s made me realize a lot of things that I never knew before and I just -- It’s been perfect. I loved getting off with you, I loved kissing you, I loved feeling like I was more than your best friend for three weeks. And honestly, I didn’t think it was possible for someone to fall in love with someone in that amount of time, and it probably isn’t, because I’m sure I’ve loved you since long before that. I just didn’t realize it until now.”
Niall’s words are completely unbelievable. They hit Harry hard and he looks at Niall for a few more long seconds. They fell in love together. They realized it together, in sync, like always.
It feels surreal but it’s definitely happening and Harry can’t speak. Niall seems irritated by this because he huffs and shakes his head. “Can you say something, please?”
Harry can’t say no. So instead, he says, “I love you.”
It’s Niall’s turn to be speechless. They sit in silence, staring at each other like deer caught in headlights. If they were to both die of heart attacks at this very moment, it’d be okay, because at least they’d be doing it together.
“You love me,” is what Niall croaks to break their tormenting silence. “You love me, fuck, I love you too,” he whispers before he’s leaning over and kissing Harry this time.
Harry doesn’t hesitate to kiss back because for the first time, they’re kissing and they’re okay with it. Harry likes these kisses a lot more than any other kiss he’s ever had. His hands slide up to cup Niall’s jaw and he’s being pulled into Niall’s lap by his arms, the kiss taking a sudden turn from sweet and loving to deep and passionate.
Harry might just like these kisses a little more.
The two of them kiss like that until they end up on their feet, kissing and stumbling down the hallway to Niall’s bedroom. Niall has his hands on Harry’s hips, riding up his shirt as he backs him into his room and onto his bed. Harry hums in a joyous surprise.
“We’re still married,” Niall suddenly whispers against Harry’s lips before sliding them down his neck, leaving a buzz on Harry’s skin in their wake.
“And?” Harry giggles, head falling back against the bed as he slides Niall’s shirt over his head. “How many people get to fall asleep one night and wake up married to their best friend?”
“Christ, I love you,” Niall says and kisses Harry again, and again, and again.
About twenty kisses and ten “I love you”s later, they’re naked and rutting against one another like teenage boys. Niall flips them over so Harry is on top of him, their cocks sliding together and creating a friction that’s good enough to make them both shudder in bliss.
Niall eventually takes his hand and wraps it around both of their shafts, his other hand gripping Harry’s hips to help him grind their hips together with perfect timing. The heads of their dicks bump against each other just right and it leaves Harry whimpering into Niall’s shoulder.
It’s all hot and fast and it isn’t much longer before they’re warning each other of how close they are. Harry comes first, his cum splashing onto Niall’s stomach and dripping over his fingers. Niall follows right behind him, gasping out profanities and Harry’s name as he hurtles over the edge, leaving a mess on both of their stomachs.
Harry falls besides Niall in a heap of post-orgasm giggles. “That was unexpected,” he titters afterwards and looks over at Niall, a dopey smile on his face. “I love you,” he whispers again. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be tired of saying it.
“I love you,” Niall responds, his voice sounding so gentle and soft that Harry wants to wrap himself up in it. That same exact smile is back on Niall’s lips and the same warmth is in his eyes again to match it. It makes Harry’s heart twist in the way it’d been doing all along, and he grins even wider.
They sit there, just smiling at each other like the two dolts they are until both of their phones buzz from inside the pockets of their pants on the ground. They’re quick to retrieve them and when they open their messages, their smiles grow together.
It’s a mass text from Louis, the message reading I SAID YES!!! XX with the attached photo of a small Jack Russell terrier pup with a ring on a thread around its neck. Niall and Harry beam for their best friend.
“Rings,” Harry suddenly says, looking down at the ones on their fingers. “We need to get new ones. If we’re going to be married, I most definitely do not want to be married to a Naill and you’re not going to be with a Harvey.”
Niall barks out a laugh, only pulling Harry into another kiss as he lies back down with him. “Shush,” he coos and pulls a blanket over the both of them, tangling their limbs underneath it. He can’t care less about the mess of their stomachs and neither can Harry. “I love you, go to sleep,” he whispers, kissing Harry once more.
Harry, of course, listens. They fall asleep in each other’s arms, together, in sync, like always.