Fake (N.S)

38.

Niall's POV 

"Harry," I hissed, feeling Harry's large hands slip from their position on my waist to rest underneath my butt. 

I struggled to get any other words out as my lips were a little busy getting assaulted by Harry's. Though I guess that assault wasn't the most accurate words to use, considering assault was a bad thing; kissing Harry would always be anything but a bad thing.

Harry hummed in response, almost as if he didn't hear me but the fact that I could feel his lips curling into the familiar smirk said something different.

"My father is in the next room. He doesn't even know that you're here right now. Do you want him to hear this?" I continued, my hands moving up to rest on his shoulders, pushing him away gently in order to look at his face.

His lips were upturned in a cocky grin, green eyes seemingly glowing in what I assumed to be either lust or amusement. Knowing him, it was most likely both. 

"It's not like he's never heard the sound of his son getting fucked before," he leaned forward and pecked my lips softly. "I'm convinced that it's something he hears constantly," he continued calmly, kissing me again.

"Are you suggesting that I'm a slut?" I asked, pulling away and looking at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"Not in general. I mean, you've only slept with me, so if anything you're my slut," he grinned.

"Please never say that again," I cringed.

"Or what? What could you possibly do?" he asked, his grin not faltering for a second, his hands suddenly squeezing my behind and causing me to let out a choked moan.

"I'm smart, I'll think of something," I shrugged, trying to steady my voice and appear as unbothered as Harry did.

Harry didn't reply, he just kissed me again. I wasn't sure if it was because he couldn't think of a reply or because he remembered that my father was in the other room.

Possibly both.

"I guess you're just lucky that your cuteness distracts from your sarcasm, not that it really helps most of the time," he sighed softly after a short pause.

"You love me though," I grinned.

Harry fell silent, his eyes dropping from my own to stare at the floor.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked, frowning in confusion. Harry's behaviour changed so erratically that I had trouble keeping up with him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just remembered I have to do something. I'll see you later," he mumbled, pecking my lips softly, before standing from my bed and leaving the room.

~

"You're in a mood. Is something wrong?" Leigh-Anne asked, sitting on the table opposite me. Leigh-Anne, being both incredibly bored and one of the most cliche people in the world, practically forced me into going with her to some cafe that looked like it would be on every teenage girl's Instagram. 

Considering how much of a pushover I seemed to be, I didn't put up much of a fight and went with her. Particularly since Leigh was probably my favourite out of my friends, being the only one who didn't constantly bring up my relationship with Harry. 

"I'm fine. Just shit between me and Harry, don't worry about it," I replied.

"That," she paused, quite possibly for dramatic effect, "is why I'm still single," she grinned.