Fake (N.S)

44.

Niall's POV

It fell silent between us. The only noise remaining was the sound of Harry removing the condom and tossing it into the bin.

A part of me wanted to lay in the bed with him for the rest of the day. Though I knew that I needed to get out of the bed soon, particularly since I had gotten too uncomfortable to deal with still being sticky.

I sat up, ignoring the small pain in my behind as I did so, seeing as letting Harry know that he had managed to make me ache again would do nothing to help his large ego.

"Are you coming with me, or not?" I asked, glancing at Harry, who was still laying on his back, staring up at me with an amused expression.

"I don't see why you're getting so uncomfortable about it. You're in this position a lot, it's not any different than usual," he grinned as my expression turned into a glare.

"You're an asshole," I rolled my eyes.

"I was kidding, baby," he laughed, sitting up and moving his arms to grip my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder gently.

"Niall, look at me," I heard him say when I didn't respond, dragging my name out in a playful manner.

I smiled, though refused to look at him.

"Niall."

"Babe."

"Baby."

"Princess."

"Harry, shut up," I finally let out, biting my lip.

"Make me," he replied. I could practically see the grin on his face without even having to look up at him.

"You're such a child," I muttered.

Harry giggled, kissing my jaw softly, causing me to roll my eyes. 

"You're adorable," he murmured.

"Help me into the bathroom, please?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Was I too rough? Ni, I'm sorry. You have to tell me if it hurts too much," he replied, surprisingly not at all looking smug but rather being genuinely concerned.

"No, I liked it. It's just...difficult afterwards," I shrugged.

He laughed again, standing up and helping me to stand up, leading me towards the bathroom with surprising care, though his apparent amusement was still extremely clear.

~

Surprisingly, nothing sexual happened between me and Harry in the shower. Of course, Harry tended to be slightly too friendly with his hands but I knew that was mainly him just trying to rile me up.

He was incredibly immature.

Saying that, his childish behaviour happened to be quite endearing and I could guarantee that I would not find the time spent with him half as entertaining as I would have if Harry acted his own age. Not to mention, he could be serious if the situation called for it. I knew that Harry wouldn't hesitate being mature if he knew I needed him to be there for me.

It was weird to think of someone loving me like that. Particularly Harry. I couldn't quite understand how our relationship developed. How the two of us could become completely dependant on each other with no shame.

I had to admit, with the situation happening between my mother and I, Harry's support was one thing I knew I needed as much as water and air. Okay, maybe not that extreme but minus the occasional remark about how my mother was a selfish bitch and I was way too nice for her, having him there was extremely helpful.