Part 1/2 Niall/Louis, warnings:mentions of vomit, alcohol, mostly concentrated in the first four paragraphs, if i had to rate it it'd be M
Niall wakes up dirty and exhausted.
People never tell you the not so glamorous times that come with clubbing. How everyone is sweaty, and not in a hot way, in a plug your nose way. How your feet are going to cave in on themselves after wearing heels for five hours and then walking to your car or home in them.
They tell you about the after party and the shots, and the dancing with strangers in the middle of someone's living room. But they don't tell you about puking in your lawn ten seconds before you get through the door, and banging on the door of your apartment for your roommate to let you in so you can pass out on your bed with vomit soaking through your dress.
So, Niall wakes up, and the puke is caked into her bra, and her hair, and her sheets, and she doesn't have a hangover, not really. But her head aches and moving is hard, so she calls, "Lou-eeeh," through the door, hoping he can hear her pathetic moaning.
She hears a chair scrape backwards in the kitchen and the bare feet slapping in the wood of the hallway even though it's January and the floor has to be freezing, but Louis still refuses to wear socks, will just push the feet into Niall's legs making her squirm with the cold but not move away.
Louis comes in, and he's holding his tea in his hand, can't live without it and he stands by the doorway, stares at Niall pouting in the mess of her bed and holds out the warm mug, "Cuppa?"
Niall struggles to get up tucking the blanket around herself so any spare bits don't pop out, not that Louis hasn't seen it all already. "Please, me head is killin me."
Louis comes forward with the tea and scrunches his nose up as he gets closer to Niall, "Why don't I run you a bath, love?"
"Is it that bad?" Niall says, sniffing around herself, and yeah it's a little clubby, a little morning aftery. Louis just nods though, "Definitely."
Louis disappears out the door again and Niall can hear the water running through the adjacent wall as she sips her tea. She closes her eyes for a moment, before resting the tea on her night stand and laying back down in a little ball, all curled up. She doesn't remember falling asleep but the next thing she feels is Louis sitting on the bed and shaking her elbow gently murmuring, "Bath time for you, bath time for you."
Niall groans into the pillow and feels Louis' fingers tangle through her hair to rub at the nape of her neck. She wants to shiver a bit with how nice it feels, she presses back into his hand but that's when he takes it away. "Come on, the bubbles are probably disappearing."
Niall rolls out of the bed, and Louis follows her perches on the sink as she brushes her teeth, takes in how her eye make up has smeared under her eyes. How the lipstick from last night is still on the edges of her cracked lips, so she scrubs at them too with the toothbrush. She spits and rinses and Louis is still doing that thing he does.
Where he watches her but doesn't watch her, his eyes coming to him and pulling back. And smiling at her and smiling at the ceiling. It's bloody infuriating. She says, "Don't look."
Takes off her clothes. Slips into the bath.
When she looks at him she's not sure if he peeked or not. His smile would be the same either way.
He sits on the toilet while she sinks under the water, and over the water he can hear him humming to himself, some tune. Music's the only thing Tommo's really cared about, and that's actually the whole problem isn't it. Whatever song he has inside his head is always more important than people or jobs or school. Jotting down lyrics and melodies in notebooks or her skin.
She comes back up and breathes, and Louis' hand comes to her head. Petting her like she's a bit of a dog. "Want me to wash it?"
And she shrugs, smiles up at him because she can't not. He pulls it from her and she's happy in the first place. "Sure, why not."
He grabs the brush from under the sink and starts detangling the strands, fake retching when he sees where the vomit has stuck, "Oi, love, that is sick."
"Literally," Niall says, and she cackles big haha laughs that have Louis giggling behind his hand.
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Niall/Louis, warnings:mentions of vomit, alcohol, mostly concentrated in the first four paragraphs, if i had to rate it it'd be M
Niall wakes up dirty and exhausted.
People never tell you the not so glamorous times that come with clubbing. How everyone is sweaty, and not in a hot way, in a plug your nose way. How your feet are going to cave in on themselves after wearing heels for five hours and then walking to your car or home in them.
They tell you about the after party and the shots, and the dancing with strangers in the middle of someone's living room. But they don't tell you about puking in your lawn ten seconds before you get through the door, and banging on the door of your apartment for your roommate to let you in so you can pass out on your bed with vomit soaking through your dress.
So, Niall wakes up, and the puke is caked into her bra, and her hair, and her sheets, and she doesn't have a hangover, not really. But her head aches and moving is hard, so she calls, "Lou-eeeh," through the door, hoping he can hear her pathetic moaning.
She hears a chair scrape backwards in the kitchen and the bare feet slapping in the wood of the hallway even though it's January and the floor has to be freezing, but Louis still refuses to wear socks, will just push the feet into Niall's legs making her squirm with the cold but not move away.
Louis comes in, and he's holding his tea in his hand, can't live without it and he stands by the doorway, stares at Niall pouting in the mess of her bed and holds out the warm mug, "Cuppa?"
Niall struggles to get up tucking the blanket around herself so any spare bits don't pop out, not that Louis hasn't seen it all already. "Please, me head is killin me."
Louis comes forward with the tea and scrunches his nose up as he gets closer to Niall, "Why don't I run you a bath, love?"
"Is it that bad?" Niall says, sniffing around herself, and yeah it's a little clubby, a little morning aftery. Louis just nods though, "Definitely."
Louis disappears out the door again and Niall can hear the water running through the adjacent wall as she sips her tea. She closes her eyes for a moment, before resting the tea on her night stand and laying back down in a little ball, all curled up. She doesn't remember falling asleep but the next thing she feels is Louis sitting on the bed and shaking her elbow gently murmuring, "Bath time for you, bath time for you."
Niall groans into the pillow and feels Louis' fingers tangle through her hair to rub at the nape of her neck. She wants to shiver a bit with how nice it feels, she presses back into his hand but that's when he takes it away. "Come on, the bubbles are probably disappearing."
Niall rolls out of the bed, and Louis follows her perches on the sink as she brushes her teeth, takes in how her eye make up has smeared under her eyes. How the lipstick from last night is still on the edges of her cracked lips, so she scrubs at them too with the toothbrush. She spits and rinses and Louis is still doing that thing he does.
Where he watches her but doesn't watch her, his eyes coming to him and pulling back. And smiling at her and smiling at the ceiling. It's bloody infuriating. She says, "Don't look."
Takes off her clothes. Slips into the bath.
When she looks at him she's not sure if he peeked or not. His smile would be the same either way.
He sits on the toilet while she sinks under the water, and over the water he can hear him humming to himself, some tune. Music's the only thing Tommo's really cared about, and that's actually the whole problem isn't it. Whatever song he has inside his head is always more important than people or jobs or school. Jotting down lyrics and melodies in notebooks or her skin.
She comes back up and breathes, and Louis' hand comes to her head. Petting her like she's a bit of a dog. "Want me to wash it?"
And she shrugs, smiles up at him because she can't not. He pulls it from her and she's happy in the first place. "Sure, why not."
He grabs the brush from under the sink and starts detangling the strands, fake retching when he sees where the vomit has stuck, "Oi, love, that is sick."
"Literally," Niall says, and she cackles big haha laughs that have Louis giggling behind his hand.