The Gay YouTuber (hiatus)

one

Friday, February 14, 2014

Niall Horan had woken up only a couple of hours earlier, yet the boy in his late teens is still unbelievably tired. The boy had been up late last night editing his most recent video, as it was originally supposed to be uploaded two days ago. He was too busy hanging out with his lords and saviors-Zoe Sugg, Phil Lester, and Tanya Burr-and subtlety flirting with his secret YouTube crushes-Joe Sugg, Tyler Oakley, and Dan Howell-that he had been far too busy to post the upcoming video. Completely ignoring the fact of this excuse being a lie, his not uploading had nothing to do with nerves. Nothing at all...

"Hey, Ni," yawns the amazing Caspar Lee as he steps from his bedroom, only adorned in a pair of black boxer briefs. "What are you still doing here?"

Niall Horan, also almost completely nude, taps nervously atop his Mac Book. The video has just uploaded. There is now no chance of taking it back. It's out there and people have seen it and Niall is beginning to get lightheaded. Oh my god, he thinks to himself frantically, everybody's seen it. Everybody hates me.

Caspar, noticing the younger boy's behavior, sets down his tea kettle and bounds towards him. He just barely moves the closed laptop away from the Irishman before he lands on the natural brunette's lap. Said boy flinches at the impact, staring down at the English/South African YouTuber with unintentionally glossy eyes and cheeks flushed with exhaustion and anxiety. Taking a more serious approach, Caspar sits up completely on Niall's lap and looks at him with the most sincerest concern. "Are you okay?" He asks.

Niall just nods, but the thing is he isn't okay. He isn't okay and it's all his own fault. Who the hell even talked him into this anyway? Why did he have to take the advice of...whomever the hell it even was?

Caspar stares at his one of his best YouTuber friends with worry in his eyes as the Irishman begins to absently stare ahead. Calmly and wordlessly, the English-born boy sets the laptop onto the table before him and slides off a frozen Niall's lap, only to pull the smaller boy into his lap and rest the side of his head on Caspar's bare shoulder.

The elder of the two had began worrying about the teenager in his arms lately. Niall Horan, much like Caspar himself, was known for his cheeky persona as well as his hilarious antics, as well as his spectacular baking and the ability to turn himself into whatever person he wants in several simple steps. Ever since the Friday before last, or nine days ago, it seems that his personality has spontaneously morphed him into the Anti-Niall. This Niall is moody, harsh, and an absolute asshole to everyone except for his week old Maltipoo puppy Lucas. But, honestly speaking, who could be rude to that adorable little face? Also, the only way to experience a nice Niall these days is by catching him while he's absolutely tired or absolutely drunk. But no matter how much Niall wishes to be alone, his condition requires somebody to look after him. Since his roommate was off in Australia documenting both flora and fauna, some of his YouTuber friends, mostly Dan Howell due to his knowledge of nearly everything because of his frequent researching for life's explanations in the midst of his ongoing existential crisis, have taken it upon themselves to watch out for the little guy.

Niall inhales sharply. Had it happened again? That's the third time this morning. All of this stress and worrying is aggravating both his anxiety and his...condition. Fuck, could he ever even come close to the possibility of winning?

"You okay?" Caspar questions, accent rising slightly in pitch as a yawn escapes his mouth. Niall twitches slightly before letting out a laugh, a laugh too high in volume and pitch to be sincere. Within seconds he's on his feet, pulling on his clothing from last night at the speed of light, nearly tripping over his own Converse laces as he attempts to gather his things. Caspar would swear on his life that Niall seems adorable in the current moment, but he simply can't due to the grimace of distress on the younger boy's face.