piper [n.h.] -Discontinued.

Chapter One

DISCONTINUED.

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"You coming to the bar with us tonight?" Derrick asks, patting his coat pocket in search for car keys. I shift slightly on the couch, kicking my feet up on the glass coffee table.

"I don't know, man. I got some other shit to do," I begin, reaching for the remote that seems miles away from the safety of the cushion my butt has claimed.

"Like what exactly? C'mon man, you usually go to the bar on your own. That's like your favorite place in the entire world. What's up with you?" Derrick asks, resting his palms against the kitchen counter.

"Not in the mood for getting completely plastered, I guess," I shrug. It's not a total lie. Even though I enjoy the buzz and excitement from getting drunk, today I just don't feel like it.

Derrick stares at me for a minute, then shakes his head. "Disappointed. You know, you think you know a guy, but then he goes off and changes just like that." I can't help but laugh.

"Just come with us for a bit. Only one beer, maybe a few wings. Just make small talk, enjoy yourself. And when you want to leave, you can," He begs. I shake my head.

"Why do you want me to come so badly? Go by yourself."

"It's not as fun when you're not there. You know you're the life of the party. And you drink so much, say the funniest shit, and by the end of the night I've pissed myself twice," He jokes. We both laugh at that.

"Fuck. Fine. Couple beers and then I'm gone, got it?" I muster up all my strength to push myself off the couch. I already miss it.

He nods his head in agreement and opens the front door for me. "I knew you'd come. You're an Irish man for God's sake. You can't pass up a beer."

"Haha, well you Americans don't know how to handle your liquor. You get hammered after a shot. Ridiculous really, brings shame to your ancestors."

"Wait you're not wearing that are you?" Derrick points to my sweatpants and tank top. I shrug.

"You might meet a hottie there and take her home. Well, she won't want to go anywhere near you if you look homeless."

"You're absolutely right. Ladies can't resist Irish dick, can they?" I say sarcastically. He throws his head back in laughter and catches his breath.

"Well, if your cock is as thick as your accent, they'll be lining up at your door."

I throw my hands up in the air, "Alright, okay. I'm changing."

I walk into my bedroom and scan the closet for a decent looking t-shirt. I pull a red polo from it's hanger and slip it over my head. An old pair of blue jeans are laying on the floor. I do a quick sniff check and decide that they're clean enough.

"Hurry up, Niall. Our gang is already at the bar. You don't have to look all fancy now."

I walk out into the living room and flip him off. "Come off it, mate." He chuckles.

"Half the time I don't understand a word you say. But smiling and nodding sure does the trick." I give him a smug look as I walk toward the door.

"You're gonna thank me later for pressuring you into going."

I nod. "Yeah, yeah. Start the car before I change my mind and go do something more productive."

He gets into the driver's seat and turns the key. He glances over at me with a grin. "More productive?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Niall, Niall, Niall. Jacking off isn't what I call 'productive'. But okay." He pulls out of the parking lot and I decide against telling him off.