Harry likes to think of himself as a rather private person. Fame also plays a part of that. It's kind of hard to avoid when you've been in the public eye for a decade, since you were a kid really, at the mere age of sixteen. But now he's twenty-six and a lot has changed in that time.

That's part of the reason why he's not into using social media anymore. The obsession with finding out the latest trends about yourself takes a toll on a person. He had found that out the hard way. In the beginning when the band first started they had all made those mistakes. Taking to heart what complete strangers thought they knew about them.

But in the years following the hiatus, Harry had become smart and distanced himself from all that. He'd become somewhat of a trained expert on how to avoid reading the tabloids and blacklisting certain topics in interviews so he wouldn't have to deal with it.

People liked to point out the fact that he would talk circles around questions he was asked, giving completely random answers, or just making up shit on the spot. And honestly. He thought people caught on to the fact that he did that because hedidn't want to answer these stupid questions. But apparently not.

It didn't bother him anymore though. He tuned it out for the most part and focused on things that mattered. Like the fans and music. He was all about making connections with the people he created his music for. That's how it'd always been for him. The least favorite part of his job was doing these interviews, but he wasn't given much of a say in that aspect, unfortunately.

Harry has more free time now than he's had in years. He doesn't know what to do with himself. Although he does have things he could potentially be doing he dutifully ignores them in place of watching Netflix. He's bounced back and forth between watching movies and tv shows that are on his ever-growing list.

This was an unusual concept to him. Almost foreign. Because his work life had been so constant and demanding for nearly ten years that he feels like he should always be doing something. Productive in some way, shape, or form. It felt wrong to be sitting down for long periods of time. Without a plan for the day.

But he knows deep down that he needs this. That this is only temporary and his life will go back to what was deemed normal before. The constant demand of writing, promoting, traveling, touring, singing, will all be back in no time. At times it felt endless. Like, when would he get an actual break?

He remembers all the times inside and outside of the band he'd mentally begged for an extended break. For time to just rest and be by himself. To recharge creatively and physically. And now that it was here he didn't want it. What he'd always thought he'd wanted turned out to be the opposite of what he really needed.

This turned out to be a daily inner battle for Harry. He tried to remain positive and thank his lucky stars for all that had befallen him. His attempts at keeping busy around his house had limited these thoughts, but they had a way of creeping into his mind when he least expected it.

He also knew part of the reason why he felt this way was because he was lonely. He'd grown used to being surrounded by people 24/7 and craved another's presence, even if it was just for a few minutes. But alas, self isolation was at its peak and there wasn't much he could do to remedy his feelings of loneliness.

Harry shut off the television and decided he was done moping around. If he was going to pity himself any further he may as well channel those emotions into a workout. The physical activity would no doubt help in releasing any unwanted negativity.

And he was right. After an hour long session of using his punching bag he felt so much better. It has been a while since he's done any boxing or used the punching bag. His energy has definitely amplified and he feels compelled to keep it going so he chooses to continue on by using his treadmill.

Although he isn't going extremely fast or anything, he can still feel the burn in his calves. He's for sure going to feel this tomorrow, but it's a good kind of pain. A reminder that he got off his ass and did something productive. Back in the day he was very adamant about working out. Often times he would get up early to beat everyone to the gym and basked in his triumphs every time he beat a personal best or tackled a milestone.

Then, he had the will and self control to work out twice most days. Once in the morning, and another time whenever their busy schedule allowed. He worked with a personal trainer to get a feel for what worked for him and what didn't. That's how he found his love for boxing. It was exhilarating to learn something new and train twice as hard to become considered good at it.

Somewhere along the way something changed. He'd lost his way and didn't care as much or have the drive to keep up such a dedication. This wasn't to say that he'd given up completely on working out. No. Harry was always in shape. He has just opted for running now. His mornings or afternoons were filled with at least one.

As he's finishing up his walk on the treadmill he picks up his phone to disconnect his headphones and pause the music he's listening to. It's when he's going to unlock his phone that he notices a video link a friend had sent him just minutes ago at the top of his notifications. Curiosity gets the better of him and he opens the message.

And oh. He wasn't expecting this. It's a two minute video clip from an Instagram live. With Ashe ft. Niall Horan. He probably never would have seen this if it hadn't been sent to him. But as the saying goes; curiosity killed the cat.

He clicks the link which leads him onto YouTube and prepares himself for what he's about to witness. The title of the video lets him know that this live stream just happened yesterday. So he wasn't too late to the party to know what was going on. Harry hits play and leans against the handrail of his treadmill for support.

He's glad he did because he cannot stop laughing. There are actual tears at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill out but he doesn't even care. This is the greatest thing he's seen in a while. Perhaps ever. He can't help himself when he restarts the video and laughs twice as hard, after knowing what to expect.

It's basically an explanation of how Niall had landed himself in a boot for two weeks. He was out, drunk with his mates, missed the curb, and has snapped the majority of the ligaments outside his foot. When put that way it sounds painful, but he knows Niall is taking it all in stride (like he'd mentioned in the video), and he's even smiling about the whole encounter.

And this is the first time Harry's hearing about this. He's not mad. Not one bit. This entire thing is hilarious. And so very Niall. Which is why he doesn't feel bad about the absurd amount of time he spends laughing over it. Once he gets a slight grip over himself he moves out of his home gym and into the kitchen, grabbing a cold water bottle out of the fridge and bringing it up to his lips, taking a few big sips.

The press of the cool water bottle against his neck and forehead are most welcome as he calms himself down from his hysterics. Harry backtracks a bit as he thinks about when the last time he spoke to Niall was. Definitely a few days ago because that's when he got home to London from his trip to Italy. They had of course sent a few texts here and there with the promise of calling or seeing each other in the near future, but he can now see why Niall hadn't been able to just yet.

They're at that point in their relationship where they don't feel the need to talk 24/7 but when they do (talk and see each other) it's as if no time has passed at all. Harry almost wants to call Niall to see how he's doing but ultimately decides against it. It will be much better if he drops in for a surprise visit so he can see Niall's reaction as he makes fun of him for fucking up his foot. He's horrible, but he'll get over it.

His first instinct is to knock on the door; however he soon realizes that it's a dumb idea because how would Niall open the door? He fishes around in his back pocket hoping he had remembered to bring his key. He's relieved to find it a minute later and raps on the door twice in some sort of a warning so his arrival isn't completely unannounced, although he's not even sure Niall will hear it.

The sight he's met with when he steps through the door and takes the jangling keys out of the keyhole surprises him, but it's nothing in comparison to Niall's reaction. He's standing a few feet away from the door with a golf club in his hand at the ready. His eyes are about as wide as they can get and from an outsider's perspective it must look ridiculous.

"Planning on bashing my head in with a nine iron?" Harry asked as he turned his back to Niall briefly to shut the door behind himself. When he received no response he decided Niall was still in too much shock to respond. "That's no way to treat your guests, Niall." Harry knows he's basically asking for it but he can't find it in himself to stop. It's hilarious. "I hate you; I thought you were an intruder!"

"So what, you were going to limp at me as fast as you can with a messed up ankle and run the risk of tripping, hurting yourself further, in the name of defense? You'd just double your chances of being attacked, like you're practically asking for it at that point." Clearly he wasn't expecting that kind of comeback when his mouth dropped open and he looked like a fish out of water, continuously opening and closing his mouth as he tried to articulate on what to say next.

"Put the club away before you hurt yourself again Niall," Harry brushed past him with a smirk and lightly touched his arm in greeting, and continued walking past him in the direction of the living room. Niall fell limply against the wall, his back hitting the hard surface as his hand rested against his fast beating heart. He wondered if he'd make it past twenty-six considering this shit kept happening to him, and maybe just maybe, he should switch his locks and give no one the keys.

By the time he makes it into the next room Harry's settled himself comfortably on the couch, as if he owns the place. "Comfortable?" Niall asks and receives a slight hum in return. "I take it you saw what's been happening online?"

"Oh so we're going right into the nitty-gritty?"

"It's why you're here, isn't it, to take the piss out of me?"

"I don't know what ever gave you that idea, young Niall."

"You're younger than me." Niall points out dryly, but there's no bite behind his words.

"Touché,"

"How did you find out?"

"A friend of mine sent me a video this morning. I can't tell you how long and hard I laughed."

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

"Come on Ni, don't be like that."

"Like what?" He questioned and raised an eyebrow.

"Never mind that now. Tell me what you would've done if I'd actually been a robber breaking into your flat."

"Defend myself, obviously!" Niall was looking at him like he was stupid.

"I don't think-"

"Shut up, Harry!"

"But you didn't even let me finish."

"I don't have to listen to the rest in order to know what you would have said. You're absolutely ridiculous."

Okay, so maybe Harry was taking the piss out of Niall. He was thoroughly enjoying himself. And this morning felt like it had occurred ages ago. Strangely enough this was exactly what he'd needed. To be surrounded by someone familiar and he couldn't be happier that it was Niall, his favorite person ever.

Harry decided to go the extra step in annoying Niall and pulled out his phone to play the video, at full volume. He couldn't resist facing his phone screen at Niall and cackling like a maniac, his head falling back onto the couch cushions. He knew full well that if Niall were in a better state he would 100% lunge at him to turn the video off and punch him.

"Oh my godddd, turn it off." He wailed and buried his head in his hands. "You don't know how many people have sent me links to that same damn video. Whoever made that two minute clip has a special place in hell reserved for them." Harry found himself laughing for a whole new reason, unaware that Niall could be this sassy over something.

"I promise I'm not mad or annoyed," (okay maybe he was a little) but it had gotten to the point where his good natured attitude of the situation was taken out of context. Like he was a laughing stock in a not so good way. It felt like the 2015 Masters all over again which he knew he would never live down and often shuddered when he came across the gifs or memes to this day on Twitter or Instagram. But he knew everyone was just having a right laugh and he didn't let his true feelings show because he was deemed the 'happy go lucky one'.

He also knew Harry was just messing around. He knew when to stop. Or so he hoped. "I will turn it off as soon as I play it one more time." Niall's protests were overruled by the sound of the audio playing again, but louder this time, if that was possible. Low and behold Harry had taken it upon himself to connect his phone to Niall's Bluetooth speaker that was next to the couch. That ass.

"Okay I'll let you have your fun one last time, but after this, it's over." He announced and tried sounding firm. His words were lost in Harry's laughter. He thinks he heard him but he can't be sure.

Harry was holding his stomach and seemed to be settling back down as the video ended. "Never gets old. Remind me to thank whoever it was that sent that to me in the first place. Who knows if I'd have even seen it." Niall withstands the urge to scowl and instead settles on chucking a pillow at Harry. It misses by a long shot because his aim is shit and Harry ducks in time to avoid contact. "Was that really necessary?"

"Yes." Harry shuffles forward on his knees until he's in front of Niall and leans forward to poke at his cheek. "You're such a child."

"You started it by trying to throw a pillow at me. Which, good job on that aim, mate."

Niall guffawed at him. "Look who's talking. As if your aim is any better Styles. Must I remind you of all your stage falls and that one time you tried stage diving?" He was practically yelling at this point but it wasn't out of anger. No. It was revenge; to get Harry back for annoying the hell out of him.

He took the liberty of googling it and pulled up a video (from the numerous choices) and started playing it much like Harry had minutes ago on full blast. "That's not how this goes Niall! You never play dirty with me!" Niall was enjoying the utter shock on his face and the turn of events. "How do you like me now?" He shot back and suppressed his laughter in the crook of his arm.

"I'd like it a lot better if you were under me." There was a low whisper in his ear and when did that happen? Harry was invading his space a lot more than he was seconds ago. A smirk rested on his face as he, of all things, leaned forward and licked a stripe up the length of his jaw line to his ear where he started nibbling on his earlobe, and one of his hands traveled south to palm at his dick.

Niall tried his best to seem unaffected by their new position but he knew he was failing miserably when he felt Harry's knowing smile against his neck. If this were any other time he'd shove him off and tell him to wipe that grin off his face. But as the fates would have it, he's giving in to Harry's advancing touches and in a sense letting him win.

They have an unofficial competition going between the two of them on who can deliver the best banter and comebacks. It seems Niall's lost on two counts this time because just as he's decided not to give a fuck about losing this round, Harry draws back from him completely just when things were getting started. Niall had allowed himself the pleasure of receiving a few hickies along his neck as Harry continuously stroked him.

By the time he's somewhat out of his dazed state Harry is rounding the corner to the next room. Utter tease. "Fucker!" He makes sure to yell loud enough for him to be able to hear. Leaving him with blue balls was the ultimate win. So Harry wanted to play dirty, huh?

"I know you're a slut for my dick, but you won't be getting it anytime soon, Niall!"

"Is that a threat?"

"Absolutely!"

He doesn't respond right away. Instead he's plotting how he's going to retaliate and undoubtedly win the next round. He isn't one for being a sore loser for too long. That's why this unofficial competition has been going on for so long, they both hate losing and are naturally very competitive. Especially when it comes to teasing each other, they love testing the other's limits.

"Alright."

"What, no protests? Giving up that easily?"

"Something like that."

When he gives no further explanation he can tell Harry's thinking. Trying to figure out his angle. Which is why he isn't surprised to see him reappear so quickly with a glass of water in hand.

"What are you playing at?" Harry asks curiously, with his head tilted, hip resting against the door frame, and the glass slightly shaking in his hand. "Nothing." The meaning behind that response was fully loaded and they both knew it. Harry could picture the cogs turning in Niall's brain and knew he should prepare for what was to come. Once presented with a challenge, Niall became unstoppable, like an uncharted storm.

Harry knew he'd royally messed up. When Niall planned his revenge for their competition, he always came back full force. But this was on an entirely different level. The only way he could think to get out of this or even help himself slightly was to grovel. Beg for mercy. Anything to get back in his good graces, despite this being good natured, and often friendly banter, he knew Niall rather enjoyed playing dirty from time to time.

"Babe." Harry had moved back to the couch and set his water down to the side in an attempt to catch Niall's attention. He leaned forward to kiss him but was given the cheek. Fuck. Ok that approach won't work. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Leaving you like that. I promise I won't do it again."

"Okay."

Those were dangerous words. They could literally mean anything. "What?"

"I said okay." Niall rose up from the couch and was halfway across the room before Harry thought to say, "Where are you going?"

"To take a shower."

"Do you need any help?"

"No, I should be fine."

"But-"

"I'm fine."

"Niall, c'mon."

Niall couldn't help but smirk. He had him right where he wanted him. Harry knew that the moment Niall refused to kiss him was just the first part of whatever he was going to unleash on him.

Harry gave it a few minutes before trying to go upstairs and checking on his boyfriend to see if he needed any help with his ankle. But when he got outside the bathroom door it was locked. He sighed and started pacing up and down the length of the room, trying to figure out what the fuck he was planning. What was his angle?

And perhaps that was Harry's second mistake. Niall had known seconds after sitting on the couch what he'd do. He's follow through with Harry's threat of no sex but he'd go the extra mile of not allowing any physical contact: kisses, hugs, hand holding, cuddles- you name it. Harry was naturally a touchy person so this would be torture for him. The fun was just starting, as Niall knew this would drive Harry insane, the not knowing of what was to come and when. This, he decided, was the ultimate revenge.