Archive of Our Own ^beta

Harry can’t feel his fingertips, his hands are tucked into the straps of his backpack like it always is and he's holding on so tight his knuckles have turned white. He keeps his head ducked down, his zipped up hoodie tucked up over his curls. He has his earphones in his ear but it’s not plugged into anything, just twisted around the belt loop of his jeans under his clothes. He’s just concentrating on getting one feet in front of the other, dodging people and going down the hallway unnoticed.

“Styles!”

Harry startles momentarily but tries not to show it, he doesn’t turn around, he doesn’t stop walking. In fact, he speeds up, his strides lengthening. He flattens himself to the side of the hallway to let other people pass, trying to back track and remember if he’d left anything in a classroom or if he’s done something that warrants one of his teachers to track him down. He’s almost sure he hasn’t done either of those things and tries to tell his heartbeat to calm the fuck down. He keeps his head down.

"Oi, Harry!"

Harry can’t pretend it’s not him someone’s calling out for anymore. He’s tempted to keep walking, he wouldn’t have to turn around at all, it would be pretty embarrassing if there was some other guy named Harry Styles walking around this tiny community college. Before he can come to a decision whether he wants to do a runner (which, even Harry has to admit, is overdramatic and tiring), he’s ambushed.

“I said oi,” the someone says, slinging an arm around Harry’s shoulder.

Harry jumps and almost tips over to the other side, away from the stranger. He doesn’t let go though, the warm pressure insistent against his side. Harry can’t possibly think of who it might be – he’s only into the first week of college, he hasn’t had the chance to make friends (or that’s what he tells himself anyway). The first thing he notices when he turns his head is that he’s very blonde . He has braces too and they’re glinting in the lighting of the hallway because his mouth is stretched into a wide smile. Harry has no idea why.

“You’re Harry, right?” he asks and he’s still smiling – it’s fucking with Harry more than he’d like it to.

Harry doesn’t reply for a moment, gradually slows to a stop in the middle of the hallway, still clutching at the straps of his backpack like a lifeline. He toes at the ground and finally says, “Yeah.”

“Jesus Christ, mate, you still sound exactly the same,” he says, squeezing Harry’s shoulder with the hand reached all the way across.

Harry can confirm that he has yet spoken to anyone that wasn’t a teacher or the cafeteria lady. He thinks he would’ve remembered someone this loud or bright at the hospital, the loud ones always stood out but he mostly kept his mouth shut in there as well. He can’t think of anywhere else Harry could’ve talked to this boy. The confusion must be written clearly on his face because Niall raises an eyebrow.

“I’m Niall – we used to go to school together,” Niall says. Anyone else would’ve awkwardly dropped his hand at this point – Harry wouldn’t have draped his arm around a stranger in the first place – but Niall just slowly undrapes his arm and punches his shoulder as if Harry’s fucking with him on purpose.

Harry frowns, plucks the earphones out of his ears and tries to think back. It’s kind of hazy, Harry’s spent so much time trying to forget in the first place. It all clicks, like a mental collage of Niall’s uncontrollable laughter and grass-stained shorts after football practise and the weird distracting snuffling noises he made when he fell asleep in class, into this hazy shape of a boy. Niall Horan. It’s not like they were friends – they probably hadn’t even talked which is a feat in itself. They both attended an all boys boarding school, they were in the same year, it’s almost impossible to go through those years without managing even a word.

Harry managed that quite well though.

“Oh,” Harry says, his lips shaped around the sound for a bit afterwards. It makes Niall laugh like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard and it’s not malicious, the way his nose kind of scrunches up and he looks so happy to be just standing there.

“Hiya, mate,” Niall says, still cheerful. He takes a careful tiny step back when Harry keeps staring at him, as if he can tell Harry’s trying to process whatever this is and it'd be a lot easier without Niall hugging him. “How are you?”

And okay, Harry will admit he has a thing for dramatics. He tries his best not to let the sheer feeling of doom descending from above to settle cold and hard in his stomach. It’s just – he didn’t think he was going to see anyone from St. Paul’s again. They’re all supposed to be at their fancy universities spread out all over the country, none of them were supposed to end up here : Harry’s boarding at one of the shittiest community colleges miles from home.

“Are you a student here?” Niall asks, his smile starting to downsize very slowly, he still looks sincere and genuinely interested though. “I remember you were crazy smart, I didn’t think I’d find you here!”

Harry knows he should talk more, he’s probably coming off as a giant mute freak but his heart’s only now starting to calm down and he feels flushed and ambushed. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, messes with his fringe for a moment and manages to say, “Uh, yeah, I attend this college.” He tacks on a, “Niall,” to show him he remembers his name.

“You won all those awards at school, remember? Y’know, before you – I mean, do you like it here? Shit, man, I haven’t seen a familiar face in ages,” Niall says. His hand lands on Harry’s elbows, manoeuvring him to the side to let someone pass down the hallway.

Harry’s eyes follow down to Niall’s hand, messy with smudges of ink and rough nails, and snap back up again. “I didn’t think you’d be here either.”

“I wasn’t like you,” Niall says, laughing. Harry would very much like to agree. “I was a nightmare at school, I was only there because of that footie scholarship and then I fucked that up when I did my knee in. I knew I was a goner when they closed the doors of the ambulance.”

Harry has something on the tip of his tongue, something brilliantly witty and easy and he’s going to erase the last five minutes from his brain and try to start over again. Before he can get the words out, Niall squints past Harry’s shoulder down the hallway and opens his mouth.

“Ah shit, I gotta save Louis from his future expulsion. There’s only so much the teaching aid can take before he files for harassment,” Niall says and starts his way past Harry.

He stops abruptly on the spot, spinning on his heel with that ever-present grin on his face. “You’re looking good, Harry, see you around.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, the silence lasting for a beat too long. He opens his mouth to say thanks but Niall’s already hurrying along the hallway, leaving Harry frustrated and kind of panicky.

Harry’s walked every inch of the community college already. He knows how to get to his dorm and the cafeteria and the various toilets spread around the place. His favourite place is already the library, he’s checked the study rooms and he likes the group ones the best. Even if he’s only by himself, he signs the abandoned little booking sheet and sits at the bigger table where he can revel in the silence and use the space to spread out all his books and relax.

He’s just wound up so tight lately, always, especially in his classes – as if he can control how much space his body takes up if he’s careful enough, to disappear bit by bit. It’s nice to let go for a little while, even if it’s just while he’s doing his music theory homework in the library, starting to warm up from the cold outside.

He’s just come from the class and so far he thinks it’s pretty good except for the fact the professor’s teaching assistant seemed to know a lot more about it than he did. The professor had to leave halfway through, something about a dentist’s appointment, so he had to take over. Harry’s not sure if that’s supposed to happen a lot. Mr. Payne, Harry took a mental note of his name too, although he asked everyone to call him Liam. Harry’s not decided on one yet but he seemed pretty friendly and knowledgeable without being condescending even though Harry knows he’s only doing it to get credits or something for his proper university degree.

Harry doesn’t mind, it took him a while but he likes where he is.

“I think I’m in love with him,” someone says and sits down at the table across from Harry. He doesn’t even ask if he can, just slams his bag down on the desk besides him and slumps forward, hiding his face in his arms and moaning theatrically.

“Uh, who?” Harry asks, looking around to make sure there’s no-one else he could be talking to. There’s nobody else in the study room so Harry takes that as a sign that this person is in fact aiming a conversation at Harry. Or maybe he’s mistaken him for someone. Harry wishes he hadn’t taken the empty study room all for himself.

“Mr. Liam ‘Arms of Sex’ Payne, Harry, keep up!” he says, snapping his head up to glare at him.

Oh.

He knows who this person is. They were in the same class just a minute ago. He was the one who came in late and sucked on the rubbery pink end of his pencil in what Harry hopes he didn’t think was a subtle way to catch Liam’s eyes. Liam, to his credit, tried to keep from looking his way more often than not but he also did flush pretty brilliantly when Louis winked. Harry hadn’t been actively thinking about it, he’d just taken note of it. He always takes note, it helps him understand.

Harry didn’t think Louis would remember his name; he’s not all that memorable. Louis was, obvious, half the class was orbiting around him like he was the sun and the other half was shooting him dirty looks. And he’s the guy Niall chased after the other day.

But Harry thinks it’s very sweet now that he might understand this a bit more. Louis has a crush on their assistant teacher and probably wanted to get his attention. Maybe he was peacocking, Harry read about that on the internet.

“I want to punch him in the face,” Louis says abruptly, looking forlorn, “with my face.”

“Okay,” Harry says after a moment because, well, that’s a bit different. He’s going to have to check with Jade if that’s a normal thing to want to do when you fall in love.

“I want his dick in my mouth,” Louis all but wails and slumps forward again, going limp as if he’s dead.

Harry files away Louis’ definition of what love possibly means. He wouldn’t know either way so he doesn’t mention it.

“Why so quiet, Curly? Is my pain trivial to you? Have some pity for the-,” Louis starts to say, twisting his head so he can look at Harry with huge pitiful and sad blue eyes.

Harry laughs, it startles out of him as if it’s a surprise even to himself. Louis grins back, his eyes crinkling in the corners and he’s quite lovely, Harry thinks, Liam definitely could do worse.

“Leave him alone,” Niall says good-naturedly, striding into the study room. He lifts his snapback off his head, ruffling at his messy hair before shooting Harry an easy grin. He pulls his backpack off, dumping it on the desk and drops into the seat besides him.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone,” Harry says in apology, reaching over to try and crowd all his stuff back into his little square of personal space.

“Greetings to you too, mate,” Niall says with a laugh and Harry pauses for a moment, his arm outstretched over on Niall’s side of the table, to stare. He laughs so easily but he never seems to be laughing at Harry, it's unsettling.

“I swear to god, if you talk about Liam’s dick one more time, Louis,” another boy says, popping into the doorway like they’re all magically connected to each other and have a telepathically on-going conversation at all times. He pulls his side bag over his shoulder, sits next to Louis and starts to pull his stuff out too.

“You can’t keep me down, Malik,” Louis says and rolls his eyes, still slumped over the desk like he has no plans on moving any time soon. He’s sprawled out enough to poke at Harry’s hand with his fingertips.

“Hey, I’m Zayn,” Zayn says and smiles at Harry. He pulls his books out, shoving at Louis’ arm until he moves it enough for him to lay it all down in front of him.

They were all in his class but it’s obvious to Harry they know each other. Harry’s confused, doesn’t understand why they’re here or more specifically why they’re here with Harry. Zayn glances up to see Harry’s expression and gives him a lop-sided grin, reaches out for a pen.

“Can I borrow this mate? Cheers,” he says, grabbing one of Harry’s pens.

And then he gets it, kind of. It makes sense that they needed a place to study, they’re all friends and looking for an available study room and Harry’s hogging the only one available. He doesn’t want to interfere.

“I’ll just get going now,” Harry says, starts to gather his stuff up. “You can keep the pen.”

“What? Don’t be crazy, you were here first,” Niall says, leaning back in his seat so he can stare up at him incredulously.

“No, it’s okay, I had to go do something anyway,” Harry says, bustling about so he won’t have to look Niall in the face. He feels bad about lying to Niall, looking him in the eye while he’s doing it will just make it more awkward for the both of them.

“Are you sure?” Louis asks, glancing longingly at Harry’s colour-coded notes.

“I’ve got errands,” Harry says and smiles brilliantly at them, dimples at full force for having thought of something decent in the right time. Errands, it covers everything and leaves room for less intricate lies.

“Alright,” Zayn says, as if he’s amused.

“See ya, Harry!” Niall shouts out after him, his voice carrying so that he manages to get shushed by a multitude of people outside the study room.

Harry zips up his bag carefully and slings it over his shoulders again. He doesn’t want to stay in the library in case they see him when they leave. He grips at his backpack like he always does, fingers already freezing at the cold wind outside the building, and makes his way back to the halls even if it’s always so cold in his room.

Harry gets to class early as usual, sitting at the side of the room near the window, close enough to be able to see the board but not sitting right at the front row. It’s not until he’s rummaging through his backpack, students already having filled up the front row, that he realises he’s forgotten his glasses. He’s thrown for a second because he doesn’t forget . He was just so tired last night he must’ve left them on his desk instead of packing them in his bag like he does every night before he goes to sleep.

He squints hopelessly at the board, Harry’s eyesight isn’t as bad as it could be but it’s blurry and Liam has a tendency to use the e-board with PowerPoint presentations that look like they've taken him a good while. The person who's supposed to be teaching their class usually takes a seat to the side and tries not to throw up from his hangover. Maybe he’s just avoiding Louis’ gaze by turning towards the board every so often, because Harry’s seen the way Louis looks at him. He thinks Liam’s doing a mighty fine job of not blushing and dropping everything everywhere. Still, he does that too sometimes.

A pen is dropped onto his desk and Harry’s head snaps up, pulled away from his thoughts to be met with Niall’s smile. He’s kind of shining but that might probably just be the glare from the sun through the clouds. Harry doesn’t get the joke.

“Your pen,” Niall says helpfully, sliding into the seat available seat besides Harry.

“I’ve already got one,” Harry says, holding his own pen up loosely between his long fingers.

Niall laughs again, clapping Harry on the shoulder and throwing his head back. He calms down after a short while, shaking his head like this is something Harry does often, make him laugh. It’s confusing but it makes Harry feel warm inside. Harry lifts his head, peeks over Niall’s head to see if the class had filled up while he wasn’t paying attention, to figure out why Niall’s sitting in the usually abandoned seat.

“It’s the one Zayn borrowed the other day,” Niall says, taking a notebook out of his bag. It’s got pages falling out and Harry has a suspicion Niall uses the one book for all his classes.

“I’ve already replaced it,” Harry says, because he did. He went to the shops nearby and got another one just in case, he doesn’t use it but it’s always good to have a backup.

“Alright, I’ll keep it then,” Niall says, raising the pen up and giving it a wriggle. He clicks the pen with his thumb and writes the date in large chunky numbers halfway down the page, drawing a line from whatever class he had before. Harry’s fingers are itch to slap the pen out of his hand for a crazy second.

Niall catches Harry staring and just smiles again, innocent, and Harry flashes him a quick, lop-sided smile before turning his head back to the front. Niall’s not moving. Harry knows Louis and Zayn are sitting somewhere at the back and Niall must’ve seen them by now. He’s seen his friends and he’s gotten the pen all sorted out and he’s still not moving away.

“You usually write everything Liam so much as dots on the board,” Niall says, leaning over into Harry’s space to whisper half way through the lesson.

Harry’s been trying to make do with listening and taking notes but he hasn’t been able to make out the comic sans writing on the board. He turns his head to look at Niall in surprise, he didn’t know anyone had noticed.

“Louis and Zayn are sitting at the back,” Harry whispers back and immediately chides himself because that doesn’t make any fucking sense.

“I know,” Niall says though, quirking a confused eyebrow at Harry.

“I forgot my glasses,” Harry says and shrugs.

“I thought you got contacts or summat,” Niall says, falling into the conversation easily like Harry’s not currently all over the place. He looms in closer and peers into Harry’s eyes as if that’s going to help at all.

Niall has very blue eyes and pale eyelashes. Harry shakes his head silently.

“Alright, do you want me to tell you what’s on the board?” Niall asks, watching his curls bounce.

“Yes please,” Harry says and clicks his pen, smoothing the paper out once with the flat of his palm before putting pen to paper.

Niall keeps saying penis in between his sentences as if Harry won’t be able to notice him giggling into his ear like he’s thirteen. Harry doesn’t push him away, feels a grin tugging at his own lips and writes it down to feel Niall shake silently against his side. His heart’s beating kind of fast and they’re not even doing anything but his limbs feel oddly light and Niall’s thigh pressed against his own feels so warm.

Niall won’t stop fidgeting, his pen tapping against the desk over and over again, his knee jumping against Harry’s every so often. Harry has the urge to step on his toe, it’s driving him crazy, but he doesn’t want him to move him either so he doesn’t.

The class is dismissed before he knows it and Harry's going to have to review everything over again for as twice as long tonight because he’s cheeks are pink from trying to stifle his laughter and there’s a faint ache in his stomach. Niall is just infectious. Harry finally pulls away, his body missing the warmth already, and starts to pack up his carefully set up stationary back into his bag. Niall just stuffs his lone notebook into his backpack and slings it over his shoulder, waves his snapback at Harry and pushes it onto his head.

Harry’s usually the last one to leave the classroom. It takes him a little while to pack everything up methodically. He can see Louis lingering at the doorway out of the corner of his eyes and he grins down at his pencil case, he can tell Liam’s valiantly pretending not to have noticed. He thinks it’s all very cute. Harry almost drops his pencil case in surprise when Niall pokes at one of his dimples.

“You want to study with us later? We’ve formed a study group,” Niall says, withdrawing his finger as if he’s been zapped.

“A study group?” Harry asks and his mind goes back to the group study room in the library. It makes more sense.

“Yeah! Zayn’s pretty good with all this and he’s usually a good teacher. Louis’ just taking this class for,” Niall glances behind him to where Louis is now leaning over Liam’s desk. “And, well, I’m not all that great at this theory stuff. We thought we’d have more of a chance in numbers.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry says, nodding along. This could definitely help maintain his grades and he knows it’s not healthy to rest all his worth as a person on grades but he still can’t quite manage to let go of wanting to be the best. And the best way to retain information is to teach it to others but it also means he gets to stay in the warmth of the library without being bothered too much by others. And Niall.

“Great, I’ll see you later,” Niall says and punches Harry lightly on the shoulder, more of a touch of his fist to Harry’s shoulder than anything else.

Harry watches him leave, how there seems to be a bounce in his step or maybe that’s just his stupidly endearing shoes. He grabs Louis around the waist on the way out, dragging him along. Liam just shakes his head and sighs out loud, slumping back in his seat. He covers his face with his hands but Harry can still make out the grin poking out underneath the heels of his palms. Harry leaves without another word.

Harry might not remember Niall all that well from school but Niall definitely remembers Harry. He was smart, quiet, pretty but he kept to himself most of the time. Niall didn’t really understand why, Niall was only the new kid he couldn’t keep to himself if he tried. He liked talking to people, sometimes too much,but everyone had something to say. Harry never had too much to say to Niall though, to anyone really.

He thought it might have something to do with the fact that Niall didn't really fit into the school at all. He was from a working class family back in Ireland, he was the first in his family to go to a school as prestigious as this and it wasn't even like he was all that smart either. He was here on a football scholarship and nobody had heard of his family and there was no reason to have, they weren't millionaires or politicians or otherwise famous or came from old money.

And, well, compared to Niall, everyone knew Harry Styles, his family. Maybe that was why he kept to himself so much, everyone knew too much. They knew about what the Styles name meant in society, what it could do, the scandals and lawsuits and most of all their wealth. They knew about the car accident six years back that almost killed Mr. Styles, how there was an investigation on suspicion of foul play, Mrs. Styles in handcuffs on the front page of every newspaper and magazine. They knew Mr. Styles survived only to remain in a coma for four years and Mrs. Styles was found innocent and running the company better than he ever did. How they finally turned off his life support.

He was mostly left alone too, the boys didn't know how to react to him and he only withdrew further and further into his shell. There was nothing else to say on the subject except the muttered freak every now and then when passing in the hallway, in class, a newspaper cut out of his mother plastered all over his room door.

The football scholarship was the only thing keeping Niall in this school, his grades weren't good enough to keep him enrolled and they didn't have the means to even if they were. When his knee got fucked up, properly this time, he was kicked out. He was gone as easy as that but not before he saw what happened to Harry, not before Harry left as well.

There's just something about Harry that pulls at Niall, keeps him orbiting around him hoping he'll reach out.

Niall's walking down the hallway with an arm around Louis, dodging students by sticking to his side since he has a habit of plowing through crowds of people like they don't exist. They're heading towards the library to start their study session , most of it so far has been flicking paper at each other and trying to cajole Zayn into playing tic tac toe but there's always hope they'll get something done today.

Louis stumbles to a stop, pulling Niall with him, when they see Harry coming out of the study room. Niall reaches out with a hand, stops him in his tracks.

“Where are you going?” he asks, confused.

Harry's looks shocked, his green eyes widening as if he's been caught trying to make a get away. He doesn't brush Niall's hand off the crook off his elbow though, just pauses for a second. Niall can practically see the gears whirring in his head and waits patiently for the sentence that'd take a century to be uttered.

“Are you leaving already, Styles? We haven’t even started!” Louis says and ditches Niall to get to Harry. He reaches up to loop his arm around Harry's neck, standing on his tippy toes and leaning his weight on him. Harry stoops down to accommodate him, willingly lets himself be led back into the study room.

“I – okay,” he finally says, looking over his shoulder at Niall.

"What school did you say you were from? The same one as Niall, right?" Louis asks and Harry nods and he stops slumping, his shoulders stiffening again. "My mate's brother's girlfriend's cousin got in there. D'you remember how there were all those rumours of that kid who went mental and freaked the fuck out during the exams -."

Harry abruptly pushes Louis away and it's easy the way he's able to do so. He's not a small guy, as much as he tries to shrink himself down, he's got long legs and broad shoulders and he easily escapes Louis' clutches when he wants to. He stares at Louis with an unreadable expression on his face.

He hooks his bag strap more firmly over his shoulders, spreads his elbows out in a shrug and says, "I've - I left something in the classroom."

"What's up with him?" Zayn calls out from where he's already seated at the table.

Niall almost calls out for Harry but it won't be any use getting him to come back into the room now. He shoves at Louis' shoulder instead, not all that hard - it's not his fault after all - he didn't know it was him. Louis turns to him with wide eyes, looks stumped and confused and bewildered. Niall just sighs and shakes his head.

"That was him, it's Harry," Niall says.

"Ah shit," Louis says after a beat, walks out and looks down the hallway for Harry. He's already disappeared though, Niall has no idea how he's able to do that so well.

"Yeah," Niall says in resignation, pulling Louis back into the study room.

Harry's sitting outside the library building again. He's at his usual seat underneath the tree, beanie tucked down over his ears, earphones plugged in. He's grinning rather stupidly down at the lumpy cupcake and his fingers are freezing because he didn't want to get icing all over his gloves but he's having trouble getting himself to eat it.

"It's freezing, mate, what are you doing outside?" Niall asks, jogging over.

Harry pulls out one of his earphones, scoots over so Niall can have a seat.

"Hello," Harry says. "Louis gave me a cupcake. I had French with him and he brought a cupcake."

"Just one?" Niall says, looking down longingly at it.

Harry huffs out a laugh, his breath misting in the air in front of him. The tip of Niall's nose has turned very pink and Harry thinks if he touched it to his palm it'd be very cold.

"He sang me Happy Birthday but it wasn't my birthday," Harry continues.

"He's an odd lad," Niall says. "Means well, though, heart of gold and all that, honest."

"Yeah," Harry says, grinning. "Want some?"

"Cheers," Niall says, goes for it as if that's all he was waiting for.

Louis made him lick icing off his cheek and generally tugged Harry around by his curls for the rest of his class but it was fun sitting with him. And he still wanted to after he found out he was in the hospital for a while. Harry thinks he might have gotten a bit more out of the lecture if half of it wasn't spent listening to Louis moan about Liam's bottom lip but he's finding he doesn't mind all that much.

Harry sticks the tip of his finger in the icing of the left over cupcake. Niall's graciously left him a couple of bites. He reaches over and draws a line down the bridge of Niall's nose, it's as cold as he'd thought. There's a second where Harry's the one that's confused, wonders what the hell he's doing in the first place, but Niall makes an outraged face and tries to keep it while he starts giggling and he forgets about that too.

It's easy to stop thinking, worrying, when he's with Niall, like it's all on instinct.

Niall doesn't have a complete idea of how but through a series of events they have come to have a table in the cafeteria - their table. He doesn't even remember sitting in one place during the first few days at community college. He would sit at a different one every day, change tables in the middle of the lunch - he wanted to talk to people. That's how he met Zayn, nose buried in his required reading for a class, glasses perched on his nose. He gave off the air of someone who thought he was too good to be at a community college, with his leather jacket and perfectly quiffed hair.

It turns out Zayn did think he was too good for community college, but it was all part of a very complicated plan for him to save on money and cut back on loans and Niall didn't really get it so he just nodded and said, "Good on ya, mate."

It took approximately four more minutes for Zayn to drop the act, another two for Niall to point at his zap tattoo and for his sketch pad to come out, shy grin stretching at his lips.

When Niall first met Liam in the cafeteria, it was before his first class with him and he didn't know he wasn't a student. He just looked lonely sitting by himself, poking at his food and probably going over his notes for his class. He wasn't a proper teacher and he was too young to really hang out with any of them but he still wasn't a student and he didn't even go here. It only made sense to plop down beside him and attempt to steal his chips. He tried to eat as much of other people's food as possible while he distracted them with his chatter.

The food wasn't half bad, Niall definitely wasn't complaining, but Louis wouldn't step a foot into the cafeteria. They were roommates along with Perrie and Jesy in a nearby flat and sometimes Louis would have to stall on rent so he could buy his fancy coffee and pastries. Sometimes Perrie comes to sit with them and Zayn tries his best to act smooth but ends up with Liam's toast all over his elbow. Niall somehow lets it slip to Louis that they usually sit with Liam now and Louis magically appeared into the seat in front of him.

“Hey! Harry!” Niall shouts out, kneeing up on the seat and waving his arms around from across the cafeteria.

Harry’s head doesn’t whip around but it lifts slowly, his shoulders around his neck as if he expected someone to throw something. His shoulders ease down when he sees Niall and that makes him a lot more pleased than he expected. Harry smiles and that feeling multiplies by about a billion and Niall smiles back, forgot what he was going to say. Harry waves his way, holding all of his food in his other hand without even a tray. It's almost a circus trick.

“Don’t just stand there,” Zayn says, poking Niall in the stomach.

Niall recuperates and shouts, “Come eat with us!”

Harry looks down at his container and bites down on his lip, as he’s hesitating, but it clears up when glances up at Niall again. He makes his way over, careful so he doesn't bump into anyone and finally gets to their table. Niall sits back down, shoves at Louis' side with his bum so they’ll have enough room to squeeze him in too.

“Hi,” Harry says, sitting down beside him. He glances up at Liam and raises an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the left corner of his mouth. Louis’ eating a banana and Liam's gone all red.

“What have you got then?” Niall asks, peering down at his food.

It’s a box of fruit. Niall doesn’t like strawberries, he doesn’t like how the seeds feel on his tongue. He makes a face and goes back to his burger. He knows he's getting it everywhere, smearing across his mouth and down his chin, dripping down his wrist but that's what you do when you have a good burger. He grins up at Zayn with a full mouth to avoid smiling at Harry like an idiot.

“You’re such a freak, man,” Zayn says, laughing.

Niall can feel Harry freeze up besides him, his fingers suddenly stilling on a strawberry. He looks up slowly, his eyes huge and green but Zayn's not even looking at him, he's still laughing and shoving at Niall. Niall laughs along with him, sauce streaked all over his sticky fingers, going for his quiff because he knows he didn't mean anything malicious by it and he wants Harry to be at ease again. He flips Zayn off and opens his mouth wider, sticks his tongue out and Zayn groans and wrinkles his nose.

“He’s not,” Harry says, fingers curling into a fist under the table. He looks at Zayn defiantly even if his voice has gone all soft. "A freak."

Zayn turns his head, his expression changing, and finally nods in acknowledgement.

“You’re right,” he says, reaching forward with a napkin. He shoves it in Niall’s face and says, “He’s a bloody pig.”

Niall’s hand finds Harry’s under the table, squeezes his fist once.

“D’ya want me to go undercover and try to get the test questions from Liam? I am dedicated to this mission, I’ll make out with him, I’ll suck his dick if I have to,” Louis says, sprawled across most of the table.

“Like you need an excuse,” Zayn says scoffing, shoving at Louis’ arm so he can keep writing.

Niall doesn't know what Liam's thinking, springing such a difficult test on them out of nowhere like this. Well, he did give them plenty of warnings beforehand and he was being genuinely sincere about it, like it was for their good. But it's almost like he's distracting himself from more personal matters (see: Louis) by focusing all his time and energy into creating this massive test of doom and everyone's just a little bit stressed out and maybe on the verge of offering blow jobs for their grades. The only reason it hasn't happened yet is because Louis would probably get expelled or something and they care too much about him to let that happen.

“I’m so tired,” Harry says, resting his cheek on the textbook.

Niall reaches over, like he’s taken to doing whenever Harry’s eyes get heavy-lidded and red-rimmed, and strokes his fingers through his curls. It doesn’t help, not at all, except to leach the tension out of his body like a miracle. He falls deeper into a stupor though, can’t get his head off the desk for as long as Niall keeps doing that. Harry makes a content little noise, slumps further onto the hard wood of the table and Niall grins stupidly.

“Up, the both of you, come on!” Zayn says enthusiastically, smacking his book down against the table. Louis flops off the desk and onto Zayn instead, hugging his neck and going limp in his arms.

“Can’t we have a break? Fifteen minutes, I swear,” Niall says, dropping his pen.

“Yeah,” Louis chimes in sadly.

They've become better at being a study group but the whole studying thing is not the most fun thing. Last time they sat around the table and played pen soccer with a scrunched up paper ball. Before that they used the college WiFi to stream Brave and had a movie night in the library.

“Whatever,” Zayn says, rolling his eyes. He keeps complaining that he's not their parent, he can't make them study for anything at all if they don't want to but he's still obliging enough when Louis gets stuck writing. They have creative writing classes together and sometimes Louis writes down a whole story only to belatedly realize he's rewritten Finding Nemo. They probably wouldn't really get anything done without Zayn.

"Harry, do you want to go lie down on the couch? It's probably a lot more comfortable," Niall whispers, bending over so he can whisper in his ear, his fingers still carding through his hair.

Harry shifts, like he's trying to get closer to the sound of Niall's voice, before he catches himself and drowsily blinks his eyes open. He makes a sleepy noise, his lips parting and Niall just starts to tug at his limbs. Harry finally drags his feet to the couch a few feet away from the table and turns all pliant and ready, lets himself be manhandled into a cuddle. Niall slips in after him, keeps petting his hair because he always works too hard and he looks so tired. He fits them onto the sofa so they can rest for just a little while.

Niall's noticed that Harry's always cold, he's not sure if it's because of the chillier weather that's fucking up his already poor circulation but his fingertips are always freezing. He doesn't know why he feels the overwhelming urge to keep him warm all the time - and it's almost like Harry is drawn to Niall's body heat as well, finding skin to warm the tips of his nose and fingers.

Niall can get quite fidgety, never able to keep still for longer than three minutes - especially when he's supposed to be concentrating. He's a nightmare in a quiet classroom or an exam room.His feet starts to tap on the ground, his knee bouncing up and down or his fingertips drum out a beat against the wood of the desk and it's really, really distracting. They're the only two in the study room at the moment. Harry bites down on his bottom lip, tries to take it for as long as he can. He finally gives up, reaches over the desk and grabs onto Niall's hand.

Niall looks up, confused, biting on the end of his pencil.

“You’re so jumpy,” Harry says, almost apologetic. He doesn’t let go of his hand, just holds on so he won’t start tapping against the desk again.

“Sorry,” Niall says but he doesn’t sound sorry at all, smile spreading across his face. It’s contagious, it’s always contagious and Harry has to bite down on his lip again but for an entirely different reason this time.

With his hand in Harry's, he stops tapping against the desk and Harry thinks he doesn’t really mind the lengths he has to go through to get some studying done.

“Harry, tie my shoelaces,” Louis says as they come out of the classroom, standing stockstill in the middle of the hallway and wriggling his ankle.

Harry obediently bends down to do so but Niall grabs him around the waist. “Tie your own shoelaces,” Niall says.

“I don’t mind,” Harry says and feels Niall let go, bends down to do a perfect little bow and smile up at Louis.

“He’s feeling very unhappy,” Harry tells Niall and realises belatedly he’d meant to whisper. Niall looks at him curiously, turning to glance at Louis. Realisation dawns on his face, like he sees it now that Harry’s pointed it out, and he curls a hand around his one shoulder.

“You alright, mate?” Niall asks.

Louis’ trying not to look upset which is making it worse, Harry thinks. He doesn’t know how to comfort him, it doesn’t come naturally to him like it does to Niall. Niall reaches forward and pulls Louis into a hug without another word, no hesitation.

“I’m fine,” Louis bites out but hugs him back, shoving his face against his shoulder and exhaling slowly.

Harry pats his back awkwardly.

“You’re gonna be late,” Louis says and pinches Niall’s side. “Don’t worry about me, I’ve got Harry.”

Harry smiles a bit even though he knows he’s useless at this and Louis’ probably just saying that to get Niall to go to class. Harry reasons that Niall and Louis, even if they've just met at the start of the semester, live together so they’re probably closer too. He’s also deduced that Louis probably doesn’t want to be upset in front of Niall. Harry likes Louis in a way that he wishes he was his brother. He always wished he had a brother or a sister, someone to keep him company, someone he could show his love to. He wouldn't have wanted a kid as starved for affection as he was though, not in this household.

“I’ll take care of him, Niall,” Harry says like a promise, means it. He nods his head once and Niall glances up at him, a half-smile on his face as if he appreciates it. He hugs Harry too, briefly, before disappearing off to class.

“Do you need another hug?” Harry asks, regrets asking. He should’ve just done it. But maybe he doesn’t want a hug from Harry, maybe Niall’s hugs have a magic healing property. It certainly feels that way. But then again Harry can't remember ever having hugged his father and he's never had that kind of relationship with his mum.

“Okay,” Louis says and slumps forward to hug Harry too. Harry hasn’t had enough hugs to be an expert in the matter but it certainly feels like Louis’ a great hugger too, even when he’s the one who needs to be hugged.

“I’m sorry,” Harry says when Louis pulls back after a while. Louis starts to lead him back to the library.

“For what?” Louis asks, falling onto the sofa. He motions for Harry to come cuddle with him and Harry does.

“Liam,” Harry says simply.

Louis tenses up, leans up to glare at Harry. There's a defensive snap to his tone when he asks rapidly, “Who told you? Did you see us? Were you spying?”

“No,” Harry says, shaking his head. He didn’t. He just noticed Louis was glaring at the board the whole time and Liam spent the whole lesson not looking at Louis and looking tragic about it. “I just notice things.”

“Oh,” Louis says, deflating again. He throws his legs over Harry’s and nuzzles into his shoulder again. “I just like him so much.”

Harry makes a noise that he hopes sounds encouraging and lifts his hand to Louis’ hair. He tries to stroke it like Niall does, it always makes him a little bit better, but his hands feel clumsy and wrong, unpractised, unused.

“He kissed me, y’know? The stupid bastard kissed me,” Louis says. “And then he said it was a mistake and he has a girlfriend. And then he ran away. I hate Liam. This is stupid. Boys are stupid.”

"Oh no," Harry says, tightens his arm around Louis' shoulder. It's not Liam's fault he has a girlfriend but kissing Louis when he must know how much he likes him is a dick move. "I'm so sorry, Louis."

“Well,” Louis says grumpily. He bites down on Harry’s shoulder and Harry makes a small noise, thinks that was probably not called for.

“You’re right, everything’s stupid,” Harry tries again and Louis starts to laugh, his whole body shaking silently. Harry’s thinking he’s finally lost it, he’s gone mad, but Louis’ eyes are crinkled in the corners and he has his legs splayed across Harry and Harry feels comfortable and happy (even if Louis’ gone mental for a bit due to heartbreak).

“I can see why Niall likes you,” Louis says after he's settled down enough to speak. He draws out of the cuddle and stands up, stretching so the bones in his shoulders give a satisfying crack.

Harry stops himself from asking why.

“He really does,” Louis adds meaningfully.

They go out to the pub on Fridays. Harry doesn’t drink, he just has a soda or some water and watches everyone else. He felt like he was boring an awful boring person so he’d tried a sip of Niall’s pint once but he didn’t like the taste. He doesn’t mind not drinking, he doesn't really like the thought of being out of control of his mind or body especially in public.

Nobody pressures him to do so and sometimes Zayn doesn’t drink as well, laughs along with Harry as Louis and Niall get more and more worked up. Sometimes it’s not just the four of them, sometimes Perrie comes along and Zayn spends the whole time trying to act cool and fails miserably. Harry doesn’t know why he does that, he’s so sure Perrie would like him so much better if he acted like he did with the rest of them.

There’s a girl that works at the bar, Leigh-Anne, and she’s gorgeous and funny and the kind of person Harry thought he could be. He likes watching her, she radiates joy. Niall asked him once if he had a crush on her, offered to introduce them properly but Harry laughed and shook his head, said he didn’t have a crush on anyone.

He doesn’t think he could date Leigh-Anne. She kind of scares him, she’s confident and bold and slightly suspicious of his motives, like he’s putting on an act for her. Harry wishes it was an act.

“You don’t drink,” Leigh-Anne says, her eyes narrowed. She’s wiping the beer Niall’s spilt all over the place. Harry’s got some on his shirt and Niall apologised and kissed his ear before being dragged off to the toilet to get cleaned up by one of his many other friends.

Harry shakes his head, drags the pad of his index finger through the mess. He pops it into his mouth, makes a face. Leigh-Anne doesn’t laugh but the side of her mouth quirks up and she regards him with raised eyebrows.

“Why do you come here?” she asks, dumping her cloth somewhere to lean up against the bar, resting her elbows on it.

“Am I bothering you?” he asks, getting ready to leave.

“Nah, might as well talk to me if you’re not going to buy a drink though,” she says, winks at him before sauntering off to serve someone else.

They talk between people demanding their drinks, Leigh-Anne makes faces at Harry when they’re especially being assholes. She’s friendly, out-spoken – it humanises her, all this talking and she's not all that intimidating anymore. Still, he feels something drop in his stomach, like a block of ice, when she asks him if Niall’s seeing someone.

“I don’t know. He hasn’t mentioned anyone,” Harry says after a second.

“Because you should get on that, high demand for skinny Irish boys, Harold,” she says and hops up to kiss him on the cheek before she leaves at the end of her shift.

Harry rubs at his cheek afterwards, grins at nothing in particular. Feels kind of terrified and happy all at once.

He likes Leigh-Anne.

He holds onto Niall when he’s had one too many, too much of a light weight. Jesy, Perrie’s friend, drank him under the table and he’s trying to be indignant about it but he’s mostly giggling into Harry’s curls. It tickles and Harry can’t stop smiling, even if he’s dragging him along. Harry gets Niall into a taxi with Louis and Perrie and walks back to the college dorms on his own.

They’re in the cafeteria when Louis spills juice all over Niall’s shirt. Spill is not the right term, he squirts it out of his bottle and aims it where Niall’s heart is beating underneath skin and bones and cackles before running away. They don’t sit with Liam anymore because Louis gets uncomfortable and jumpy and tries to act like he’s not sad and that’s even sadder. Niall still talks to Liam and he’s pretty sure the other lads too, he seems to understand.

“I’ve got classes all day, you wanker,” Niall says, laughing even as he throws a bread roll at Louis. It manages to boink Louis in the arse before he jumps onto the coffee counter and lands behind it.

“Do you want to borrow a shirt?” Harry asks, handing him some napkins.

Niall doesn’t seem to get what the napkins are for, wipes at his mouth as if he thinks he’s left food there. Harry pulls them out of his hand and wipes at his chest for him. Niall makes a face like he gets it and smiles fondly, puffing his chest out further. Harry resolutely tries not to blush and ends up doing it anyway, having to duck his head a bit to hide it.

“Okay. You live on campus, yeah?” Niall asks, pulling his sticky shirt from his chest.

“Yeah, it’s not all that much,” Harry says, starting to walk a few steps away from the cafeteria. He stops and waits for Niall to grab his stuff as well. “And the hall gets really noisy sometimes but I don’t have any roommates and it’s pretty nice most of the time.”

“Alright,” Niall says and slings his arm around Harry’s neck. Niall does that sometimes, like he can’t walk, or function, without touching someone.

Harry keys open his door nervously, looking up and down the hallway as if someone’s going to jump out at them. Niall raises an eyebrow and Harry shrugs, nervous, and opens the door. It’s just a normal residency hall room, as clean as a boy living by himself can be but not at a Louis-level mess. It smells like Harry.

Niall shuts the door behind him and shrugs out of his shirt immediately. He tosses it in what he hopes is a laundry basket and not a trash can. Harry turns around, spreading his arms around. “Sorry about the mess,” he says, swallowing hard. He averts his gaze immediately and starts pawing through his stuff for a clean shirt.

“Don’t worry about it mate. Ugh, this shit is sticky, fucking Louis,” Niall says with no real bite, touching his chest with his fingertips. He shares a flat with Louis, he'll survive. Perrie doesn't even know how to do her laundry.

“Here,” Harry says, taking a hand towel and wetting it at the small sink wedged into the corner. He hands it to Niall and Niall winks in return, cleaning the sticky mess off him.

Harry finally hands him a shirt, just a plain cotton t-shirt and it smells clean and a bit like the detergent Harry must use.

“Cheers,” Niall says, taking a sniff of the shirt unashamedly. He pulls it over his head, shoving his arms through and laughing at how it’s slightly too big for him, draping down from his shoulders.

“Oh hey, you have The Notebook?” Niall asks, leaning forward to pick up a DVD on top of his TV. He watched it with Jade over the phone a couple of nights ago.

“It’s not mine,” Harry says after he realizes he can't say it's my friends since Niall knows everyone he knows in the community college.

“No shame in the game,” Niall says and pops it in, falls down into his seat with a happy grunt. “Come on! Doctor’s orders: no-one should watch this without a cuddle buddy. Serious medical consequences: sadness, crying, maybe even vomiting.”

Harry grins again and lets Niall pull him down onto the seat besides him. “Okay,” he says and Niall gets an arm around him and shuffles them closer.

“I saw you at the hospital once,” Niall says when they’re halfway through the movie. Harry wants to pretend he’s sleeping, rest his cheek on Niall’s ribcage and float away.

“I didn’t see you,” Harry says instead, mumbles the words into the material of his hoodie. He didn’t see much, he was out of it for a while. But he’s better now, that’s all that matters.

“It’s when I had to get surgery for my knee,” Niall says, sounds closer and closer to sleep as well. “You were sitting next to the girl with loads of hair. Looked like you were going to get stuck together forever with all those curls.”

Harry snorts, surprises himself. “That’s Jade, I wouldn’t mind being stuck together with her forever. She’s a sweetheart.”

“I can be a sweetheart,” Niall mumbles to himself. Harry’s about to lift his head and ask what he’s talking about but Niall’s head drops against the back of the sofa and he’s out for the rest of the night.

Harry's sharing his scarf with Louis, looped around their necks so they have to walk huddled together out in the cold. They're about to go for coffee but Louis stops abruptly in the parking lot and changes direction. Harry has no choice but to follow him, making a muffled sound into the scarf, and stumbles to a stop in front of Liam's car. Liam's standing there, his key out already.

"Wait," Louis says, comes to a stop like he can't think of an excuse anymore.

"What is it, Louis?" Liam asks and he sounds tired. Harry keeps close to Louis, not only because of the scarf.

"I - just - you said let's be friends," Louis says. "And you look upset."

Liam does look upset, his eyebrows are furrowed and his lower lip looks bitten and swollen. Louis steps forward and Harry has to follow. He wraps his arms around Liam, reaching up to do be able to do it, and hugs him. He stays like that for a little while and abruptly lets go, his cheeks bright pink.

"Friends hug friends when they're upset, right?" Louis asks.

Liam swallows hard and looks at Louis, really looks at him, like the things Harry's read about in books, like the thing he doesn't think he'll really be ever on the receiving end of.

"I broke up with my girlfriend," he says and his voice wavers. He clears his throat and keeps looking at Louis, like he's scared and choking on it.

Louis' mouth has fallen open in a silent 'oh' and he looks lost for words, completely overwhelmed. Harry steps in before he says anything else, "We're going to the museum this weekend."

Liam's gaze lingers on Louis but he's too polite to ignore Harry completely.

"Niall and I, as a couple, like a date. You should come, to get your mind off things, obviously, and Louis loves museums so," Harry says, rattling off lies after lies. He doubts Louis has ever stepped foot into a museum before.

"Oh," Liam says.

"It won't be like a date or anything, we can just hang out," Harry says, tries to elbow Louis discreetly.

"Yeah, friends help each other out through hard times," Louis says and Harry's never seen someone's head turn so fast.

"Alright," Liam says.

"We'll see you on Saturday," Harry says and starts to tug Louis away before he can do anything else.

Louis hesitates for a moment, like he's going to hug Liam again but this time it's Liam who gathers him into his arms, letting go quicker than last time. "Thanks," he says and Harry's close enough to be able to hear how tender he sounds.

"Oh my god, what are you doing? Since when did you have a date with Niall?" Louis asks as they make their way back inside the main building. Coffee can definitely wait.

"You can't just ask him out straight after he's broken up with his girlfriend. It'll be better this way and then you can charm his pants off when we're at the museum and he won't feel any pressure because we'll be there, right? And then Niall and I can break off halfway through the date so you guys can have some alone time," Harry says slowly, using his hands to explain it to Louis and for once Louis doesn't complain about how much time Harry is taking and listens intently.

"Harry Styles, I could kiss you," Louis says and reaches up, squishes Harry's cheeks together, and kisses him.

"Heyyyy," Harry tries to say in outrage but he's still grinning too wide, pleased with himself.

Harry arrives in the study room in a flurry, pulling his scarf over his head and almost choking himself to death with it. The reality of what he's done is only just sinking in and he needs to sit down. He eyeballs Zayn and Niall meaningfully and doesn't even bother pulling his books out this time.

"Louis and I were going to go for coffee and Liam was sad because he broke up with his girlfriend and they hugged a bit and we're pretending to be dating on Saturday so Louis can hang out with Liam without either of them feeling burdened so Niall do you maybe want to come to the museum with me this weekend?" Harry sucks in a huge breathe, releases his fingers once he realizes they're twisted together painfully. It's the fastest sentence he's ever uttered.

Niall just says, "Alright."

"Wait what?" Zayn asks.

The three of them are waiting for Liam on the steps of the museum, Niall and Harry sitting huddled together and Louis anxiously pacing a couple of steps down from them. Harry's forgot his gloves again and he can't feel his fingertips. He tries to warm them up by breathing out against it, rubbing his palms together. Niall looks over, his own hands stuffed into the pockets of his anorak. He takes one of his mittens off, manages to fumble it onto Harry's hand and grabs the other hand. He pulls it into his pocket and starts to rub circles over the back of his hand as if he's trying to warm him up.

"He's not even here, you guys don't have to start pretending yet," Louis says, coming to a stop before them.

"Huh?" Niall says but Louis plows right on, "He's not going to show."

Of course that's when Liam pops up from behind him, looking slightly damp around the edges but otherwise unharmed. He smiles at Louis and his eyes go all soppy and Niall thinks they've complicated things way too much for no good reason at all. He shares a look with Harry that tells him that he agrees.

"We should get crack-a-lacking, lads," Niall says, makes Harry pull him up alongside him instead of using his own two goddamned legs.

Niall can hear them chattering softly like Niall and Harry don't even exist. He rolls his eyes, grins at Harry because maybe this will work and Zayn will be proven wrong for once in his life. Niall sometimes thinks he's proven the existence of god wrong just by having that face.

"Okay, c'mon, I drew up a plan," Harry says, squeezes Niall's hand and starts to drag him inside.

"A plan?" Niall asks, following after him, bugger if Liam and Louis are going to be joining them.

"Yeah, I wanted to start with the dinosaurs," Harry says, turns back to make sure it's okay with Niall. There's a curl peeping out of his beanie and Niall feels like he's his insides are going to melt and puddle into his boots. He shakes himself out of it because Harry wants to see the dinosaurs and if he wants to see the goddamned dinosaurs they're going to see the goddamned dinosaurs.

"Have you guys been here before?" Liam asks, finally catching up with Harry and Niall, eyes lingering on their clasped hand and the way their shoulders keep bumping together. He looks quickly at Louis and glances away.

"No," Louis and Niall says in offense at the same time Harry gives an enthusiastic "Yes!"

Harry shoots Niall a wink when Liam and Louis start to diverge away from his planned route, Liam leading Louis through the museum easily with the way his eyebrows are being enthusiastically expressive and endearing.

All Niall got out of this exercise was the realization it was really nice to have Harry's hand slowly warm in his hand and to have him drag him around like an excited puppy. At least Zayn wasn't right about Louis and Liam's impromptu date working out even if he was about the massive crush he apparently has on Harry.

Harry’s walking to the cafeteria, about to pick up a banana before class starts when he feels someone jostle into his shoulder. He moves to make himself as small as possible, shuffle off to let them pass but the someone lingers besides him, grabs his hand instead. He looks up, alarmed. They must’ve confused him with someone else.

“Hiya,” Niall says. His hand is very warm. Harry twists his head to see the spare mitten sticking out of his pocket.

“What are you doing?” he asks, nonplussed. He links their fingers together though, swings it back and forth a bit.

“Holding your hand,” Niall says as if it’s obvious. Harry doesn't think he has time to grab the banana but he doesn't want to let go of Niall's hand. He still lets himself be tugged past the cafeteria, Niall walking down the hallway hand in hand with Harry as if this is an every day occurrence.

“Otters sleep holding hands so they don’t float away from each other,” Harry says because he can't stop smiling and he doesn't know what else to say.

Niall laughs as if it’s the funniest thing he’s heard in months. They enter the classroom and Niall still doesn't let go of his hand, holds on tight and pulls him to where they've taken to sitting for class.

“Oi, Zayn, listen to this. Otters sleep-,”

Harry sits down besides Niall, squeezing his hand just because he can. Niall doesn't skip a beat, keeps telling Zayn otter facts even if he's staring at him like he's lost his mind. He keeps his right hand in Harry's left, both of their writing hands free to take notes - which is only thoughtful for Harry since Niall doesn't do any of that.

Louis drops into the seat besides Harry and Harry turns his head from the argument about whether an otter was cuter than a platypus (platypus, obviously) to look at him. Louis raises both of his eyebrows at Harry, his eyes flickering between Harry and Niall even though they're not even talking at the moment. Harry's sure he can't see under the table, Louis is a lot of a things but he's not superman, he doesn't have x-ray vision. But now that Harry's close enough to see him properly, he can see that his cheeks are all flushed and his hair's messier than how he would usually style it and his lips are swollen. Louis licks at them self-consciously, turns redder and avoids Harry's gaze, turns to the front in determination. Harry reaches out and straightens his collar for him, dimples innocently when Louis looks down and smiles to himself.

Liam rushes through the door and he's missed the top button of his cardigan so the rest are all mismatched and he's out of breathe and keeps palming at his hair but Harry doesn't mention any of it.

They go to a nearby park in the middle of the night because they need a break from sitting around a table studying all the time and the mere sight of the study room is enough to make Louis ball up his fist in irrational rage. They decide to play football and there's nobody else there so they can be as stupid and loud as they want to let off all this built up stress from the semester.

It's Niall and Louis against Zayn and Harry. Niall originally wanted to be paired up with Harry and now that he's playing against the both of them, he thinks they should definitely try to even things out a bit the next time. Louis gives him a passing slap on the bum because there's no need to even break a sweat, they're definitely going to win. Zayn gets into it for five minutes at a time and then becomes tired and cold and Harry's good at a lot of things but hand-eye coordination is not one of them.

It's too cold to play shirts against skins so they're all just wearing long sleeves and thick knee high socks with their shorts. It's not much of an attire but Harry still manages to distract Niall somehow anyway. He isn't even doing anything special. It's just - his beanie's fallen off in the middle of the game and he doesn't have anything to keep his hair back and every time he runs forward his curls bounce up and down and Niall thinks it's possibly the cutest fucking thing he's see in his life.

Louis throws the football at his head.

"Get your head in the game, Horan," he says between his huffs of laughter.

Niall throws up his middle finger up at him and only ruffles Harry's sweaty fringe when he passes him the next time around.

They go out, not to the local pub for drinks like usual but out, to celebrate the end of exams. The club’s loud and already crammed with people but they didn't have much trouble getting in. Apparently Zayn knows the bouncer or the DJ or something, having a face like Zayn's sure has its perks. Harry's never been to a club before and he's just a bit overwhelmed. It's not like he was invited to many parties before his mum sent him off to the mental facility when he'd had enough and blinked back to the sunlight streaming through the destroyed exam hall, skin bruised and broken desks surrounding him.

He stares around himself because there's to much to take in all at once and he's suddenly craving the quiet of his dorm. Niall bursts through the crowd of people, drinks in his hand, a large grin on his face and Harry feels like he's going to crawl out of his skin. He smiles back, makes room for Niall to sit sandwiched between him and Zayn.

“Alright?” Niall says after taking a long swig of the drink in his hand.

Harry nods, tries to unclasp his hands and ankles so he’s not sitting there like an idiot. “It’s very loud.”

Niall leans in closer and shouts, “What was that?”

“It’s very-,” Harry stops, knows when Niall’s messing about with him. He always knows when Niall’s messing about him, it’s nice, sort of comforting.

“I think Louis’ hoping Liam would show. Like Liam would come to a place like this,” Niall says, staying close.

Harry can’t help think Niall would have more fun on the dance floor or talking to someone that isn’t him. Harry’s not even drinking, he’s just sitting there. But Niall looks content to be here for now so Harry doesn’t mention it, just wipes at the corner of Niall’s mouth with his jumper pulled over his thumb.

“Cheers,” Niall says, presses a sloppy kiss against his cheek.

Zayn comes back, poking Harry’s dimple as he sits down. He throws an arm around Harry’s shoulder, fingers tangling in his hair and blows air out against his neck.

"Perrie says hi," he says giddily.

“Oh mate, is that Josh? He owes me a drink - JOSH!” Niall says, standing on his feet. Josh apparently doesn't hear him over the blaring music because he starts off in the other direction. “I’ll be right back,” he says and is off after him.

“Perrie's having apparently having a girls night out so Jesy shoo-ed me away. Screw this. This is a lad’s night out, right, Haz?” Zayn asks, reaching for the drink Niall got him.

“Yes,” Harry says, affirming. Zayn laughs, his eyes scrunching up, and ruffles his curls fondly.

Louis reappears, looking out of breathe and excited. He glances at the both of them, twisting around to see where Niall’s gone off to. He shrugs, pulls a tiny plastic packet out of his back pocket and pops it open with his thumbs.

“Open,” he says to the both of them.

Zayn does immediately, opening his mouth obediently and Harry follows him. Louis digs out two pills from the bag and pops it on their tongue, the third one falling into his mouth straight from his bag. He smiles at the both of them, reaches for his own drink and swallows. Harry waits for Zayn to swallow before borrowing his drink and swallowing it down too.

It seemed like the thing to do at the moment, no questions asked.

But Harry hasn’t taken any kind of pill, not the ones handed out in little plastic cups or the ones he’s found in his mum’s cupboard in a while now. He blanches, sticking his tongue out belatedly at the taste of Zayn's drink.

“What was that?” Harry asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Just relax, mate, it’s all going to be good,” Zayn says with an easy smile, keeps his arm around Harry’s shoulder.

“Ah shit, I should’ve asked first, shouldn’t I?” Louis asks suddenly, looking panicked.

Harry gets up and makes for the toilet straight away, moving past the throngs of people and trying not to get lead away. He needs to vomit it up right away, it might help. He gets to the toilet but there’s a slight queue and by the time he locks the cubicle behind him, he doesn’t know if it’s too late. He makes himself sick anyway, throws up what he’s had for dinner before they came out and flushes the toilet straight away.

"Harry, mate, c'mon," Niall says, wraps his hand around his wrists.

He's swaying on the dance floor with his head thrown back with some guy - he's not really dancing with him, he doesn't seem to even know there's anybody else in the room. His head swivels heavily around and he opens his eyes, blinking slowly, to focus on Niall. His pupils are huge and his jaw turns slack.

"C'mon," he says again, starts to lead him away from the dance floor. He was gone for ten minutes max. Harry follows him easily enough, pliant.

“Back off, we’re fine here,” the guy says, reaching out to get his arm around Harry’s waist and pull him back against him.

“Look,” Niall snaps, gritting his teeth. “I don’t have the fucking time to do this, okay, but just give me the time and place and I will fucking-,”

“Niall, c’mon,” Harry says, parroting the words right back at him. He dodges the guy all on his own, wraps his arms around Niall instead. He bends down to nose at the side of his neck blindly, like he does when he wants to warm the tip of his nose after being out in the wind for too long.

Niall glares at the guy one last time, unclenches his fist and gets the both of them back to their table. He sits him down beside him, holds his head up with his palms against his cheeks. "How're you feeling, bud?" he asks, close enough not to shout, stroking the pads of his thumb against his cheekbones carefully.

“Fine, more than fine, I feel so good,” Harry says, blinking slowly, a smile spreading just as slow.

There’s shouting. Someone’s shouting – Niall’s shouting at Louis. Niall doesn’t shout. Harry can’t figure out why but he hears his name crop up one too many times, is reminded of being seven and standing in the hallway in his pyjamas listening to his parents. He covers his ears with his hands, flattens them against them and tries to block it out.

It stops, it miraculously stops and Niall’s next to him again. He still looks angry but he’s wrapping his arm around Harry, the slam of a door shutting and the cold draft is shut out for good. He hadn't noticed the cold until it was gone. Louis isn't here anymore either but they’re moving, moving away from the club and the noise and the people.

“Are you taking care of me?” Harry asks, tucking his face back against the exposed skin at Niall’s neck. He feels too warm for once, the tips of his fingers and heart don't feel like ice. Niall tightens his arms around him, kisses his temple and Harry hums in content.

“Yeah, something like that,” Niall says and he sounds sad. Harry doesn’t want him to sound sad, Niall shouldn’t be sad. Harry blows a raspberry against his neck, tightens his fingers in the material of Niall’s shirt and tries to comfort him. He’s getting better at it, strokes his fingers against his belly.

“Your skin smells like sunshine,” Harry murmurs drowsily and falls asleep.

"I didn't think it'd make a difference when I was younger. My dad was in a coma for so long, I could barely remember one good memory with him. I never called him dad before he died. I thought he would wake up one day and everything would get better, that was the day I was looking forward to. I had this image in my head where he would wake up and be perfectly fine, like in the movies, and he'd tell me everything I ever needed to hear. Or just that he liked me."

"I like you."

"Even if I'm a little broken?"

"Everyone's at least a little bit broken."

"I think my mother could see right through me sometimes, she said I was being emotionally manipulative, she thought I was too smart for my own good. She's right though, I was a handful, I wanted her to pay attention to me. That's why she kept sending me away. I don't know why they had me in the first place."

"You were just a kid, Harry."

"I didn't think it'd make a difference, that I'd grieve, when he died, but it did. I can understand why she sent me to the hospital, I just cause her trouble."

"Have some water, love."

"Can you tell me about your family? Your brother and your dad and Mullingar and that time you fell off your bike and broke your leg and he took you to the hospital and stayed all night even if he had to go to work at 4am?"

"Yeah, I can."

Harry wakes up in an unfamiliar room, the sunlight shining weakly into the room from a different direction. He jolts awake, struggles up into a sitting position and feels a wave of nausea threaten to overwhelm him. He shuts his eyes, rubs at them with his thumb and index finger and focuses on breathing evenly so he doesn’t throw up all over someone’s bed.

“You awake?” Niall asks, bounds onto the double bed. He bounces a bit, jostling Harry and makes an apologetic noise, reaching for his wrist with a worried twist of his mouth.

“Yes,” Harry says, he lies back down, his arm thrown out to his side. Niall crawls on his elbows and knees to rest his head against his bicep, pets his stomach. “I feel like death microwaved.”

“Sorry,” Niall says, rubbing his cheek against his arm. He keeps petting his stomach and it’s not making him feel any better but it’s not making him feel any worse either. Harry just shuts his eyes, tilts his head to the side just a little bit until he can feel Niall’s hair against his lips.

“For what?” Harry says.

“Louis should’ve known better,” Niall says. Harry only realises belatedly that he’s got his top off when he bends his elbows, draws Niall in closer and runs his fingertips over a freckled shoulder. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“It’s not his fault, it’s not anyone’s fault,” Harry tries to placate, absently traces the bone of his shoulder. He wants to fall asleep again, wake up when he’s feeling like he’s gone ten rounds with Godzilla.

"I was gonna make you breakfast but Perrie ate all the eggs. Louis tried to make you breakfast in apology but I think he died on the kitchen floor trying," Niall says, wriggles closer so he can bump the tip of nose along Harry's cheek.

"S'alright, don't feel like eating much anyway," Harry says. He doesn't want to move for at least a week. "Can I go to sleep or do I need to go soon?"

“You can stay as long as you like,” Niall says, tucks a finger underneath Harry’s shirt.

Harry grabs his hand, shoves it under his shirt and taps it like he expects Niall to keep rubbing at his stomach. Niall laughs, a warm huff of breathe against his ear, and obliges him.

Harry’s baking something for Niall. He's never actively woo-ed someone before, he doesn't know how to go about it but he called Jade and she told him to bake him things. He’s vaguely worried that he won’t like it but he’s seen him lick ketchup off the cafeteria table so he can’t get that worked up about it. Chances are, if there’s enough sugar and plenty of icing, Niall will at least take a bite. He still feels shit about passing out in Niall's bed and making him and Louis fight and at himself for being so stupid.

Harry always had an interest in baking even though he’s never had to cook a day in his life. They have their own cook at home and at the boarding school. Still, he’s learnt quiet a fair bit hanging out in the kitchens when he wasn’t supposed to. Harry likes cooks, he likes it when they smell like bread and comfort. He doesn’t quite think he’d do all that well inside a working kitchen when it gets too busy though. He doesn't do all that well under pressure, especially when everyone's yelling.

There’s icing everywhere by the time Harry’s done and he’s getting ready to leave. He’s meeting Niall in the library but he figures they can sit outside and eat the cupcakes for a bit. Harry wipes down the little space he has as well as he can with a cloth, finds icing stuck in between his fingers and somehow lodged behind his ear. He licks the purple icing off the back of his hand and grins smugly to himself, he thinks he's done quite well. He shoves his arms through his jacket, popping the woolly collar up and sets off out of his dorm hallway with his plate of cupcakes.

Niall waves at him even before Harry can see anything but shiny bright hair and a bundle of clothes. He makes himself walk that bit much faster, almost skipping by the time he gets to Niall. He grins, waves back as soon as Niall’s smile clears up in his vision. He should wear his glasses more often, it’d make things a lot easier.

“What’s that?” Niall asks immediately.

Harry’s about to say ‘I made you cupcakes’ or something along those lines, maybe something less stupid if he can come up with it quick enough – but his chance is lost and gone when he fumbles with the plastic plate in one of his giant hands and the cupcakes go tumbling down. They land icing-down, sticking to the pavement and Harry stares down at it in horror.

“I made you cupcakes,” Harry says, figures it doesn’t matter what he says now since they’re fucking ruined.

Niall stares at him for a moment in confusion, looking bewildered. He starts to smile soon enough, the corner of his mouth tugging up, his blue eyes turning soft and fond. He crouches down, picks one off the ground and blows across the dirt imbedded.

“Please don’t eat that,” Harry says, crouches down beside him to poke idly at one of the cupcakes.

“It looks perfectly fine,” Niall says, sticks his tongue out as if he’s going to have a taste.

Harry slaps it out of his hand before he can stop himself. Niall just grins, his eyes lighting up in delight.

“You’ve got icing everywhere, mate,” Niall says with a shake of his head. He shuffles forward, still crouched over the cupcakes, and leans forward.

Harry stays exactly still, eyes wide and crossed as he stares at Niall. Niall laughs again, more nervous this time and then Harry feels his lips against his cheek. He pulls back and Harry can see how red he’s gotten, thinks he can relate with the way his cheeks feel like they’ve been set aflame. Niall doesn’t lean completely back though, he ducks forward again and kisses icing off his chin and finally settles back onto his heels.

“There, all gone,” Niall says happily, licks his lips, reaches forward and thumbs at where his lips were a moment ago.

“We’re – we’re not cats,” Harry says, tries to sound disapproving. He's already messed up his attempts at woo-ing Niall but he got kisses so he's going to count it as a success.

“Wanna grab some coffee or something? I’m hungry and you know I can’t focus when I’m hungry. You can’t bring me cupcakes and then just drop them! Unless you have more icing on yourself,” Niall wriggles his eyebrows.

Harry ducks his head, grins into his scarf before standing up. Niall reaches a hand up impatiently and Harry obliges him, wraps his fingers around his hand and pulls him up as well.

Niall brings him a kitten the next day. He doesn’t say it’s a present or anything but he brings it into his dorm early in the morning, his nose still tipped red and icy, with a tender look on his face that makes Harry’s heart squeeze erratically. He removes the tiny black kitten from the inside of his shirt. It looks reluctant, the tip of its nose as pink as Niall’s. It’s still shivering from the cold when Niall sets it down carefully in the middle of Harry’s bed.

“Found him shivering all by himself on the way here,” Niall says, plucking his gloves off and throwing them at Harry’s face.

Harry’s still in his pyjamas even if he’s woken up over an hour ago. It's a Sunday and he doesn't have anything to do. He’s having his second cup of tea, sitting carefully at the edge of the bed so he won’t accidentally kill the damn thing. He puts Niall’s gloves on his bedside table and lifts his tea into the air when Niall belly flops onto the bed beside it.

“Reminded me of you,” Niall continues, his face close to the kitten. He strokes the tip of his index finger against his little head.

“I don’t have black hair,” Harry says, confused. He pulls a curl in front of his eyes to make sure.

Niall snorts and makes a terrible face when the kitten sneezes, punches Harry right in the gut with it. He grabs the kitten carefully, arranging its little paws and tucking his head under his chin so Harry gets a good long look at his face.

“Look at his eyes,” Niall says smugly, thumbs at the underside of the kitten’s chin with a hushed sound.

Harry ducks in closer to see even if he doesn’t really have to. They’re wide and green and bright.

“He’s pretty cute. Do you have a name yet?” Harry says, touching his pinky to one of its paws.

“Batman?” Niall asks, wrinkling his nose when the kitten swipes at Harry’s hand. “I bet you could carry him in your palm.”

Niall hands him over before Harry can argue. Harry hastily puts his tea down, his hand warm already, and the kitten fits snugly in one hand. He cradles it against his check, being so very careful – he wasn’t allowed pets when he was younger, he doesn’t know how to hold it properly.

“He likes you!” Niall says, crowding in besides Harry and fitting himself along his side. He pets him a bit, his chin resting on Harry’s shoulder.

“What are you going to do with him?” Harry asks, feels its little claws dig into his hand.

“I can’t keep him,” Niall says, “but I’ll find someone.”

Harry ends up taking care of him for a couple of days. It’s nerve-wrecking and stressful, Harry feels like Batman should be kept in his vision at all times or else he’s going to accidentally sit on him or he’s going to jump out the window and it’s going to stain his soul forever. But it means Niall comes over and stays for ages and ages, more than he usually does and sometimes he falls asleep with Batman in the crook of his arm and Harry throws a blanket over the both of them before going back to his homework.

It’s nice, having both of them around so much, Harry finds he doesn’t mind at all. When Niall finally finds someone to take him, a nice girl named Dara who comes all the way to Harry’s dorm, Harry’s a little bit sad to let him go. The kitten licks at his fingers one last time before he’s gone and Niall looks just as sad.

“Wanna stay in all day and marathon Cougar Town?” Harry asks, biting on his bottom lip.

“Alright,” Niall says gloomily, tugs the blanket so it covers his chin. Harry crawls into bed besides him and after a brief pause, kisses his cheek.

“Niall?” Harry asks quite seriously one day, leaning forward in his cafeteria seat, his hands tucked underneath his thighs to keep them warm. Niall wants to hold them or at least shove them under his shirt where they’re be nice and toasty. It's a well-known fact that Harry has abnormally shit circulation and he still hasn't figured out if it’s because he’s a fucking giant or what.

“Yeah, Harry?” Niall says just as seriously, leans forward in his seat too. He places his elbows on the cafeteria table, gets one accidentally in his cereal but he doesn’t mind.

“Why do you wear hats like that in the middle of winter?” Harry asks, eyes flickering down to Niall’s milky elbow and up again.

Niall pauses for a moment, looking up above his linked hands before he starts to laugh. It starts all the way from his belly and he doesn’t know what it is, exactly, that’s so funny but he’s leaning forward before he can stop himself. He drops his hands on the table, leans up on his elbows and presses his laughter right against Harry’s mouth.

“Because I’m in love with you,” Niall says.

Harry stares at him for a beat. He rests his elbows on the table as well, leans up again carefully so their faces are closer.

“You wear snapbacks in the middle of winter because you’re in love with me?” he asks, grinning.

“Yep,” Niall says, crossing his eyes.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Harry says but he’s still smiling, biting down on his bottom lip now as if he’s trying to keep himself from laughing.

“It makes perfect sense,” Niall insists, the tips of their noses touching. Niall ducks a bit, tilts his head and brushes his nose against his properly, a soft little nudge.

Harry’s eyes widen at the sudden movement. “I guess it doesn’t matter,” he says and edges in the last inch, tries to stop his wide smile to kiss Niall.

“Why?” Niall asks between the third and the fourth kiss, teasing, leaning over the table properly now.

“Because I love you too,” Harry says softly, breathes it all out in one exhale.

Niall doesn’t know when it’s happened but he’s leaning completely over the table now, Harry settled back into his seat with his hands cupping Niall’s face. He tastes like the apple he was munching on a moment ago and his lips are lovely and soft and warmer than the rest of him. Niall’s clutching at the edge of the table on Harry’s side, his elbows bent and carrying all his weight. He honestly doesn’t remember moving one bit.

“I’ll see you in class,” Niall says, kisses Harry’s dimple and then the other one and then his chin just because he can.

Niall grabs his bag and snapback, shoves it onto his head and starts to walk out of the cafeteria, grin threatening to overtake his face, his whole body, his everything feels so light.

“Are you serious?” Harry shouts after him.

Niall turns around and lifts the brim of his cap, winks at him as obnoxiously as he knows how.

“Of course I’m not serious, we’re going to your room right now,” Niall says and watches Harry flush from all the way here. Harry rolls his eyes, still grinning like a maniac, his eyes finally starting to dart around him as if he’s noticed where they were. Nobody really cares, it seems, but they’re shouting across the cafeteria and people notice those things.

Harry stops pretending he’s not going to run after Niall straight away and grabs his things, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“That’s my boyfriend,” Harry tells someone, grabbing another apple and his water bottle before darting after Niall.

Niall slings his arm around him, lands a smacking kiss on his cheek and walks them out of the cafeteria.

“You’re my boyfriend, right?” Harry asks.

“What else would I be?” Niall says right back and sticks his finger in Harry’s ear.