Chapter Text
He doesn't even know his name. All he knows is that they're neighbors and that he's incredibly attractive. He's got curly brown hair that's in dire need of a cut, but Niall doesn't necessarily mind because he wouldn't mind running his fingers through it, but that's a whole other story. He's got these big, green eyes that sparkle even in the dull light of the hallway in the complex that they live in. He's fairly fit body wise (Niall's seen his abs one day when he was walking in and out of his flat without a shirt; Niall really wants to trace his tattoos with his tongue, but he'd rather not get into that.) and speaking of tattoos, he's got a shitload of them.
Well, not really a shitload, but he had a decent amount decorating his arms and chest and torso. He's a bit of a sweetheart, really. He's very polite; always manages to wave at Niall with the brightest smile whenever they cross paths. Niall really likes him even though he doesn't even know the lad's name.
Now that's a problem.
It's a Wednesday afternoon and Niall is leaving his flat to make a quick trip to the grocery store for a few things when it happens. He's locking his front door now, humming along to some shitty radio tune that's been stuck in his head for days now. He's just about to turn around and continue on his way but first he decides to do some little dance, motioning his leg in a way that's similar to how Michael Jackson used to but it's more toned down. He kicks his leg up just a little and adds in a twirl of his keys and the next thing he knows, he's bumping into someone.
That someone is all muscles and sweat like they just got done with a hardcore workout. Niall would've been disgusted but as soon as he looked to see who this sweaty human being was, he lost all train of thought.
It was his neighbor. His green eyed, tattooed, and now completely sweaty neighbor. Fuck, Niall mentally curses. I mean, Niall thought he was fit before but now, wow, he's really something. He's a work of fucking art.
"Oh, um, sorry," Niall mutters when he realizes that he's just been standing here admiring. His cheeks are blazing like a fucking forest fire. He hates himself right now, he really does.
"It's alright," Green Eyes chuckles. "Nice dance moves, by the way." He smirks, and if that doesn't make Niall weak at the knees and his dick stirring under his sweatpants he doesn't know what would.
"Um, thanks?" Niall nervously laughs. His face is still on fire and to top it all off his heart is beating at paces he never even knew was possible. Man, he needs to get a grip.
He'd like to have a grip on Curly's dick, but that's another story.
And with that his neighbor chuckled again, this smug look on his face before he's letting out a 'see you later' and he's off. Niall's left standing in the hallway staring at him until he's gone.
And that's when Niall realizes he still doesn't know his name.
***
It's been two days since their last encounter—technically their first one—and Niall can't stop thinking about him. But mostly, what's his name? He's sitting on his sofa, watching some shitty soap opera (don't ask) and eating a bag of cheese crisps when there's a knock on his door. It's Friday and Niall's at home being a couch potato like always. He's got friends but then again he doesn't so couch potato it is.
He grunts—he doesn't want to get up, okay?—standing up from his spot that's probably indented with his shape and wiping his hands on the back of his jeans. There's another knock by the time he's halfway to the door.
"Alright, I'm comin', Jesus," he yells, just before he's undoing the locks and opening the door.
Fuck.
"Hi," the person on the other side greets. Fuck, it's his hot neighbor. Niall wonders what the hell he's doing here. He doesn't mind that he's here he's just—he's nervous, alright, and he's not good with attractive people. Especially when they're wearing damn near see through white t-shirts and he can see his body definition underneath.
Godfuckingdammit.
"Um, hi?" Niall responds. It's more of a question than a response but Niall's a bit awkward when it comes to people he pines over, and yeah. This could either go extremely well and they end up sucking each other's dicks later on, or he could get really embarrassing and Curly here never talks to him again.
He's hoping for the latter.
"Hey," Curly chuckles shaking his head a bit. "Um, I accidentally got the wrong package and I'm assuming it's yours. Are you," he looks down at the box that Niall hadn't even noticed he was holding before until now. "Niall... Horan?"
Niall frowns but quickly retaliates before his neighbor can see and nods. "Yup, that's me."
Green Eyes hands Niall the box with a tight smile. "Must've gotten mixed up with mine, sorry 'bout that."
"S'no big deal," Niall shrugs. He's glad it happened in the end because now he's talking to his fit neighbor and it kind of feels like winning the lottery to him.
"Right," he smiles at Niall and are those dimples? Fuck, man, this guy keeps getting better and better. "Um, I'll just be off now."
"Thanks," Niall calls out just as he's turning away. But, "wait!" he shouts. He's just thought of something.
His neighbor turns back around with raised eyebrows as he waits for Niall to continue speaking.
"Uh, what's your, uh, what's your name? I mean, you know mine now so it's only fair that I know yours, right?"
Curly Green Eyes chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the sides, before walking up to Niall's door again with an extended hand. "Harry," he says, "Harry Styles."
Niall grabs his hand and shakes it. Harry's grip is firm and tight and Niall can't help but think that that's a good thing. That's a really good thing.
"Nice to meet you," Niall nods just as Harry lets go of his hand.
"Pleasure to finally meet you," Harry insists.
Wait, did he say finally?
"Finally?" Niall asks. His heart is on edge right now.
"Oh," Harry scratched the back of his neck nervously. His cheeks are tinting pink and it's the cutest thing Niall had ever seen. "Yeah, um, this may sound a bit weird, but I've been wanting to ask your name for the longest time." He smiles sheepishly.
Fuck. Niall is internally screaming because him too. He's done the same thing and it's a miracle that Harry's been doing it all along too. Fuck.
"Really?" Niall asks just to make sure. He feels like life is playing some sick joke on him or something.
"Yeah, I'm sorry. That's—man, that's really weird. Sorry."
"No," Niall interjects, shaking his head profusely. "No, I've been—me too."
"You too?"
"Me too. I've been wanting to know too."
"Wow," Harry shakes his head in disbelief. "This is weird."
But who gives a rat's ass that it's weird? Niall's just happy that Harry feels the same.
"Yeah," Niall nods slowly. He doesn't really want this conversation to end.
And it doesn't because Harry is speaking again and Niall really notices that he likes his voice because it's deep and borderline raspy and he can't help but wonder how Harry would sound if he were to scream his name out loud.
Since when did he become this hormonal, halfway desperate teenager?
He's thinking that Harry's to blame.
"Would you, um, would you like to go to lunch or something? With me? One day?"
Niall just stands there stunned because all of his life dreams and goals have just happened in a span of ten minutes and if this isn't the best thing ever, what is?
"But, I mean, if you don't want to it's totally okay. I can come off as a bit weird sometimes but it's just becau—"
"Sure," Niall interrupts. Of course he'd like to go. It's fucking Harry Styles, the guy he's been crushing on ever since he moved into the apartment next to him earlier this year. Of course he'd like to go on this date—it's not a date—with him.
"Huh?" Harry mutters, eyes growing wide.
"I said sure, as in yes, I'd like to."
"Oh, okay. That's cool. That's actually great. Okay. Well, I can't today, I'm pretty busy, but how about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow's fine."
"Cool."
"Cool."
"See you...tomorrow then." Harry grins like he's proud of himself for asking Niall out and starts walking back to his flat.
And if Harry leans against his door when he gets inside his flat, smiling like an idiot and thanking the gods above, and if Niall does the same thing as well, then that's definitely their business.
Niall officially can't wait until tomorrow. He doesn't think he'll get any sleep, he'll probably end up dreaming about Harry and his body underneath him or something like that, but hey, that's a different story he's just not willing to get into right now.
I mean, he's going out to lunch with his hot neighbor, and if that's not the best thing ever, well, you know how this sentence ends.