My feet don't glide | Narry oneshot

When they first meet, Niall is 14 and Harry is 13. Niall is loud and bubbly and everywhere while Harry is quiet and shy and kind of wants the floor of the studio to swallow him. Niall is flat blond hair and bright blue eyes and award winning smiles while Harry is curly brown hair and dull green eyes and this kind of constant attractive pout on his face. Not a thing in common.

Except maybe for the fact that none of them actually wants to be here, in the dance studio.

And also maybe the fact that they’re the only boys standing in the room.

“Welcome to Waltz for beginners,” a petite woman says as she enters the studio. Niall notices the way she moves gracefully around the room, making a point of looking at each and every one of the young faces standing awkwardly in line in front of her. “My name is Lisa but you can all call me Mrs. Robinson and I’ll be your teacher for the next four weeks,” her tone is monotone and disinterested and she looks just as thrilled as the two boys to be here. Which is absolutely not.

“To make you feel at ease, I’ll let you choose your partners, it doesn’t matter much in the beginners class anyway.”

And Harry can hear girls giggling and squealing and he has the urge to roll his eyes at the annoying sound. He restrains himself though because his mom told him enough time that it was not an acceptable gesture in society. Mrs. Robinson though does it with an exasperated sigh and Harry smirks. He likes that girl.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when there’s another boy standing in front of him, a raised eyebrow looking kind of expectant and he might have zoned out so much he totally ignored the cute boy.

“I’m sorry?” he says and the blond boy blinks a couple times and then smiles.

“I said I think we’re gonna be stuck together,” he repeats, nudging Harry to look around the room and yeah, all the girls paired up together and they’re the only two left. “Do you mind?” and Harry shrugs.

“No,” and that answer brings out a crooked smile out of the other boy. Harry does something unusual then.

He smiles back.

{}

“So, what’s your story?” Niall asks in Harry’s ear, just a little above the obnoxious music filling the room. He’s got a firm hand on Harry’s shoulder being the shorter one while Harry’s hand hangs loosely on his hip.

Harry bites his lip and sigh, not sure if he wants to admit the reason he’s here to this stranger who’s been stepping on his feet for the last thirty minutes.

“What’s yours?” he decides to retort and Niall snorts.

“Stuck up parents. Apparently I need to learn this shit for some gala we’re attending next month or whatever,” he says and then look at him again and yeah, Harry is supposed to give him his reason now, that’s how it works.

“My dad thinks it’ll be good to get... girls,” he explains and with Niall’s puzzled expression, he didn’t get the way he said that last word with regret and bitterness and he wants to take his hands off from Niall and run away far enough so he never have to face the boy ever again but the teacher is giving him that kind of look, her eyes trailing from his hands to his face and Harry swallows hard before standing straighter and holding Niall a little tighter. The boy doesn’t seem to mind though. Not yet. “The thing is, I don’t like girls.”

It’s so quiet, he almost hopes that Niall doesn’t hear it over the music.

He does of course and Harry can’t look at him so he keeps his eyes on their feet where he can see Niall’s feet stepping on his own until he feels his hand being squeezed in Niall’s one. He looks up, surprised to find Niall shooting him a sympathetic smile and then he steps on Harry’s feet once more and they both can’t keep their giggles in.