Niall is, perhaps, the most animated person Louis has ever encountered, somehow trumping even Liam.
He talks with wild hand gestures, points and clicks and leans his elbows on the table exasperatedly, making eye contact with every person listening and drawing them in. Louis watches him talk with rapt interest, the way every pair of eyes is drawn to his mouth. Harry had told him once that Niall often rallied for protests and marches back when Harvey started getting involved in the Castro. Louis doesn't find that hard to believe at all.
They're at one of the bars by the theatre, packed in tight in the small booth surrounded by smoke and the Eagles underneath it all. As soon as they'd entered, the bartender had hollered the place down and practically pulled Harry over the bar to give him a hug. He's a burly guy, bald with bushy brows and a giant chest tattoo that peeks out from under his tank. His name is Teddy, and Harry hugs him tight.
By the time they finally stumble into a booth, Harry is pink cheeked and his eyes are glassy, exhausted from the waves of people coming up to say hello to him once they saw him behind the bar.
He's tucked into the corner of the booth now, sleepy and cuddly, Louis pressed right up against his chest with Niall talking rapidly beside him, telling a story that all the men at the table have heard before. Harry's got his hands over Louis' hips, thumbs rubbing at the skin on the small of his back.
"So me, Bobby, and Mick are like, fuck, we gotta get flush this shit," Niall is saying with strangled laughter, shaking his head. "I'm, what, sixteen years old and just found a giant bag of coke, no clue what to do. And then Mick goes, 'oh, we shouldn't flush it, bet it belongs to The Dirty Ones.' So there we are, shitting ourselves that we've just accidentally dug up this gangs fucking drugs, and Bobby suggests we take it to the police! The fuckin' police!"
He slams his hand down on the table as he laughs, the other on his stomach. "He wanted to take a bag of coke to the fuckin' NYPD, most corrupt bastards in the whole of New fuckin' England. If we didn't get done for possession, we'd have got a damn position on the squad for supplying."
"So what'd you do?" Louis asks with a startled laugh, eyes wide.
"Well, we knew that if they came back for the coke they'd know someone had messed with it, but fuckin' Bobby was so certain we should take it to the cops. So I go, alright, you take it to the cops then. And Bobby just shrugs and goes, alright. Then he tucks the bag under his arm and goes on his way!"
"We just made it out of Williamsburg before we got reamed," Niall wipes at his eye as he laughs. "Shat ourselves and ran. Word got out, we weren't allowed back in Williamsburg no more. All because these idiots hid their damn coke at a damn park. Me and Mick were doing a favor for his Pop after we got into a nasty fight with some kids on our block when we dug it up."
"You got beaten up by a gang?" Louis' brows raise into his hairline.
"Uh-huh," Niall nods. He takes a long swig of his rum and coke. "Whole place was crawling with 'em. Wasn't just drugs, either. You step one foot on the wrong side of the pavement and that's a target on your back, even if you were a neutral. Got this nasty scar from a Screaming Phantom one time when I cut through a block to get home."
He holds out his arm and twists it around, a deep scar down the back of it. Louis blinks in surprise and leans closer.
"Shit," he says.
"Uh-huh," Niall nods again earnestly. "'s why I came here, New York was a fuckin' hole when I left. Mob really fucked up the place, plus the cops were downright pigs. Couldn't catch a break, one foot out of line and you've got community work for a month."
YOU ARE READING
Here In The Afterglow
Fanfiction"If you hadn't noticed, I don't have many friends," Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat. Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis' st...
