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Sometimes Harry was just too much for Niall to handle. When he’s up, he’s up. He wants to go do this, see that and Niall just can’t keep up. When he’s down, Niall just wants to shake him and tell him he’s got nothing to be depressed about. Harry has the world at his finger tips and seems to forget it sometimes. Niall just wishes he’d see it.
The older boy has been fighting a nagging, gnawing feeling in his gut all night. He wishes he could put a finger on the feeling. He wishes it didn’t have something to do with the boy grinding up against him, but it has everything to do with him.
“Baby, you’re pretty, but I’m pretty sure I’m over you,” Niall tells the brunette. They’re out dancing, and maybe this wasn’t the best time to tell him. They’d both been drinking, drinking too much. Niall’s lost his brain-to-mouth filter. The look on Harry’s face makes him wish he could take the words back, but he can’t now.
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Harry replies, shouting over the music. He’s stopped dancing and Niall stops too. They are in the middle of the floor, bodies pressing and moving against them but they continue to stand. They aren’t touching anymore, except for the tips of their shoes.
“But it does,” Niall says, shaking his head. “I can’t do this anymore. You’ve got him, you don’t need me too.”
-x-
Harry likes to blame a lot of things on Niall. He tends to pick fights for good no reason. Niall thinks he does this because he figures Niall would never leave him. It’s mostly true; Niall knows that Harry can barely function on his own. If Niall broke up with him, Harry would be out of an apartment and out of a cook. He wishes he could leave him sometimes though, but he loves that stupid boy too much for his own good.
“Niall, I ran out of gas,” is the first thing the older boy hears when he answers his phone. It’s three in the morning and Niall wishes he’d stayed asleep.
Harry was down again. He’d packed his things earlier and told him he needed to get out, just get so far gone, he didn’t care how far.
“What do you expect me to do about it?” he asks groggily, running a hand over his face. His sympathy was running low. It was his choice to leave, to take Niall’s car and leave him. Niall didn’t force him to leave
He can practically hear Harry’s eye roll when he replies, “It’s your fault. It’s your car.”
Niall groans and rolls over on his stomach, burying his face in his pillow. Maybe he can just suffocate himself and then he won’t have to deal with Harry and his moods.
“Why can’t you just get your own car?” he asked, voice muffled. The boy has a job; he could afford it if he wanted. Niall just thinks Harry likes to blame him for everything, to pick fights.
“Stop being lazy and come get me,” Harry answers instead. He’s apparently missing the part where he’s got the only car Niall has, he can’t just conjure up another one.
“Fuck you, Styles,” Niall replies. “It’s three am, call your other boyfriend.”
Harry makes a noise and Niall can’t tell if he’s whining or growling. “Fuck you Horan,” he says and then the line goes dead.
-x-
Niall stares at Harry for a moment, trying to gauge his reaction but the younger boys face is frighteningly blank.
“Fine,” Harry finally speaks, his voice is shaking. The brunette backs away from Niall, pushing backwards into the crowd, forces the people to move for him. He doesn’t even say excuse me, typical.
Niall watches him go, but doesn’t try to stop him. His heart is aching as he watches Harry leave, which doesn’t seem fair, because he’s the one that broke it off. But Harry’s got him to pick up the pieces for him, he doesn’t need Niall.
It wasn’t always like this though, they used to be happy. Niall used to be able to handle Harry’s ups and downs. He could maneuver him away from the edge when he was feeling particularly low, then something changed in him, in them.
-x-
“There’s someone else,” Harry told Niall one evening. They were sitting together on their couch, toes pressed together in the middle, backs against the arms of the couch. Niall had been flipping through a magazine, Harry watching some movie on television.
“What?” Niall asked he looked up from his magazine, frowning at Harry. He didn’t hear that, did he? There was no way Harry would be cheating on him, was there?”
“There’s someone else,” he repeats slow and casual, as if this is a conversation they have every day. “I met him at work,” he explains, watching Niall’s face.
“You’re joking right?” the blonde asks, sitting up straighter, pulling his feet away from Harry’s, and placing them on the floor. He had to be joking, sure they’d been together a long time, but Harry never seemed to be bored or unhappy. Niall put his elbows on knees, head in hands, this was total bullshit.
“I’m not, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to be with you too,” Harry said, shifting onto his hands and knees. The brunette crawled down to Niall’s end of the couch, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Jesus Christ, Harry,” Niall snapped at him, standing up quickly. “Do you hear yourself when you talk? You can’t have us both.”
Harry bit his lip and watched Niall. He wasn’t expecting this, but of course he should have because he was cheating on him. “I’m sorry,” he hears himself saying, but he’s not honestly sure if he is. He loves Niall but sometimes the same old same gets boring.
“Does he watch your favorite movies and let you tell him all your favorite parts when you've seen it a million times? Does he hold you when you cry?” Niall asked, ignoring his apology. “Does he sing to all your music, while you dance to Purple Rain, like I do?” he kept firing off questions; he couldn’t control his mouth anymore. He needed to know. He needed to know that those were the things he did for Harry.
“I’ve never…” Harry starts, shrugging his shoulders. He’d never really done anything like that with him. They talked and had sex and watched the sun come up from his bed. He never really tried to figure Harry out. He never tried to fix him like Niall did. They just had to be together and that was enough.
“Right, you’ve never done anything like that with him, then?” the older boy questioned, arms over his chest. “So are you going to trade me in then, so you can live the good life?”
Harry frowned and finally got up from the couch, standing toe to toe with Niall. “No, I’d never trade you in, I love you.”
Niall laughed humorously and took a step back. “Does he love you like I love you, will he tell you every day?” he asked, arms folded over his chest. “Will he make you feel invincible with every word he says?”
“Niall, stop this,” he said softly. “I want you both. You both have things I need. Everybody needs somebody, sometimes.”
“I’ve never heard so many lies,” the blonde snapped. “Needing isn’t everything when you need love. You need me.”
-x-
Niall continued to stand in the middle of the dance floor, people were surging against him, but all he could do was stand and watch Harry’s retreating form.