#nonplatonic

“I was hoping you’d just order pizza or something,” he confessed, leaning against the counter, “I like it when you cook, pet, but I’m starving.”

“You’re a grownup with your own phone. You can order pizza if you want, but…” you paused, pulling tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese out of the grocery bag you had brought, “I can make it faster than the delivery person can bring it.”

Niall looked at you in disbelief, his mouth opening slightly and his eyes lighting up, “how’d you know?”

“We’ve been friends for years, I just know,” you shrugged, biting your lip to hide your smile and looking down at the dough you needed to roll out, “I let this rise while I was home so all it needs is toppings and to be thrown in the oven once I shape it.”

“You do that, I’ll go put on some music,” Niall suggested. Much like you knew he’d want pizza that evening, he knew that you preferred loud music while cooking. While you started stretching the dough, he walked away. You heard the TV turn off, followed by the beep of his phone connecting to his speakers.

The music came on while you were dusting his counter with flour, a bright pop melody that you immediately recognized. You couldn’t help but move your hips along to the song, letting the beat dictate your movements.

“Ahhhh this hit, that ice cold Michelle Pfeiffer, that white gold,” Niall rejoined you in the kitchen, singing loudly and dancing just as badly as you were. He shuffled up beside you, dancing in time until he found the perfect moment to grab your hands and spin you around. His quick movement caught you off guard, sending you into a fit of giggles when you righted yourself. He let you turn back to the pizza dough, instead grabbing a wooden spoon from beside his stove and using it as a microphone.

“Stop, wait a minute. Fill my cup, put some liquor in it,” you sang along with him. This song was one of your favorites to listen to while goofing off with Niall, it had the perfect amount of words and instrumentals. It was a great song to listen to while in the kitchen, driving through the city with the windows down, and every time in between.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Niall strutting away from you, still lost in the music. You took the opportunity to leave your station at the counter and innocently walk up to him, singing quietly as he turned to you, oblivious.

Just as the beat dropped, you reached your floured thumb up to his face and swiped it across his forehead, leaving a trail of white dust in your wake. Niall knew exactly what you’d done, laughing loudly as you scampered away from him to the other side of the kitchen. He followed you quickly, grabbing a handful of flour as he passed by the bag you had left out. You tried to escape him, getting chased around the table in the middle of the room a few times, but there was no way for you to get past him.

“Niall,” you cautioned when he had you cornered by the fridge.

“Petal,” he emphasized the L just as you had with his name.

You held your hands up in surrender as he took a step closer, “you don’t have to do this.”

“Yes I do, you started it.”

Another step.

“I didn’t start anything.”

“Yes you did.”

Another step.

“I thought you were starving, let me finish the pizza.”

“The pizza can wait.”

Another step. You were running out of time.

“What’s that over there?”

As soon as Niall’s head turned to look where you had pointed, you lunged towards the pile of flour on the counter. He was quick to react once he realized you had tricked him, catching you with one strong arm across your middle. The other came up to drop the whole handful of flour that he had been holding over top of your head. You managed to grab enough flour from the counter to leave handprints on either side of his cheeks when you turned to face him.

His grip around your torso didn’t loosen until you were both sufficiently covered in a plentiful dusting of flour.

“Are you conceding?” you asked smugly when he finally stopped.

“No, I’m just hungry,” he confessed, laughing, “can we finish the pizza now?”

“The pizza could have been done by now but someone chose to dump flour on my head.”

You moved back to where the dough and toppings had been abandoned, quickly putting everything together and into the oven. When you closed the oven, Niall was back by your side, pulling you into him.

“This is for Instagram,” he explained when he held up his phone, the front camera facing the two of you.

“As if your fans needed another reason to love you,” you rolled your eyes, but posed anyways. “I can’t wait for this pizza to be done so I can go shower.”

“You can go now if you want, I’ll watch the oven,” Niall offered.

“Are you sure? You won’t get distracted and forget about it?”

“Have a little faith, petal. I’ll be fine.”

“Ok…” you said slowly, walking towards the guest bedroom, “I’m trusting you. It needs to come out it ten minutes.” Niall shot you back a cheesy grin.

“Don’t worry about it, enjoy your shower.”

Though your days of being starstruck by Niall were long gone, his home never ceased to amaze you. It wasn’t every day you got to be in a multi-million dollar home that put your small apartment to shame. Niall didn’t spend all of his time in LA, and when he was in the city of angels he usually had some form of work to do. Somehow, he always managed to make time in his busy schedule to hang out with you, even if it meant leaving the studio and stopping by your apartment for dinner three nights in a row. Though you often lived on opposite sides of the world, you never felt like Niall neglected you or your friendship.

Over the years you had spent enough time at his house to be allowed a whole drawer in his guest bedroom to keep your clothes. In reality, your drawer contained a pair of gym shorts, a pair of sweatpants, a nice outfit for going out, and a stack of t-shirts you had stolen from Niall.

You pulled out a t-shirt and the shorts, then walked over to the en suite bathroom and stripped yourself of your dirty clothes. You turned on the shower and let the water warm up before stepping into the stream. It took longer than you wanted to scrub the flour out of your hair and off of your face. It seemed like every time you thought you had gotten it all, more would appear.    Once you were absolutely certain you were clean, you turned off the water and wrapped yourself in a towel.

You dressed yourself in the clothes you had picked earlier, then combed through your hair with your fingers briefly before leaving the bathroom to rejoin Niall. He was lounging on his very large couch, transfixed on his phone. You sat down next to him, sinking into the cushions. Without looking up from his phone, he lifted his arm so you could rest your legs across his lap. His calloused thumb started rubbing thoughtlessly and gently across the skin by your knee.

His hair was damp and his clothes were clean. He had probably showered as well, you mused. You couldn’t help but find yourself distracted by the nuances of Niall’s facial expressions as he scrolled through Twitter. You couldn’t deny that your best friend was extremely handsome, even more so now that he had stopped bleaching his hair and was letting his natural brunet locks grow out. The way his face lit up when reading comments from fans made your heart swell, his grin so familiar it was like putting on your favorite hoodie.

“What are ya lookin’ at?” Niall poked your ribs when he looked up and noticed the way you were staring at him.

“Your face.”

“Is there somethin’ wrong with it?” he cheesed, turning his chin back and forth so you could see it from all angles.

“Of course not,” you smirked, pinching his cheek between your fingers, “I think it’s nice.”  

“Only nice? I think it’s sexy.”

“Dork,” you rolled your eyes, “are you going into the studio tomorrow?”

“Mhmm,” Niall hummed, “do you want to come with?”

You scoffed at his question, “Of course I want to come with, that’s not even a question. Can I-“

“Absolutely not,” he quickly interrupted you, aware of what you were about to ask before the words even left your mouth, “you’re not allowed to touch the sound board.”

“Niiiii,” you whined, throwing your head back dramatically, “please?” You tried to pout as best as you could, hoping his heartstrings would do you a favor. Instead, he just laughed at your dramatics.

“No, you know me too well. I write decent lyrics but if you get your hands on it, it’ll be like reading my diary to the whole world.”

“You keep a diary?” you snickered, choosing to ignore the compliment he gave you.

“No, but if I did you would turn it into a gorgeous song, I know it.”

“Sure.” You chose to leave it at that, pulling up your own Twitter timeline. Your notifications were flooded with screenshots of the Instagram story Niall had posted. Most of the replies were along the lines of ‘goals’ and ‘I wish I was (y/n)’. There was also an abundance of conversations regarding your relationship status with Niall. ‘I ship this so hard’, and ‘I didn’t know Niall and (y/n) were dating’ among other things.

This wasn’t the first time your relationship with the Irishman had been speculated about, online or otherwise. Multiple of your friends and even your parents had said something to you at one point or another, claiming you were made for one another. Every time you or Niall posted something online about the other, the fans had a field day with it.

The close bond you shared was no secret to the world, but it hadn’t come easy. After years of knowing each other, the best way you could describe it was ‘right person, wrong time’. Your lives were better with the other in it, but there were too many ups and downs that had gotten in the way of a romantic relationship.

Your mind wandered to the possibility of actually dating him, of being able to call him your boyfriend for the first time since you had met. He wasn’t wrong, you did know all of the nuances of his emotions. You knew him better than you had known anyone in your entire life. When you were younger, there were a million reasons not to date. One Direction was just taking off, paparazzi was everywhere, and he was in a new city every day. You were also both career-driven, a relationship that early on would have gotten in the way. Now, though, the band was on hiatus and he was taking some much needed time away from the prying eyes of the public. Now, a relationship could actually be a possibility.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind it terrified you.

There was a reason you and Niall had stayed friends all these years- the connection you had with each other was undeniable- but you worried that if you tried to pursue something else with him it would ruin all of the goodness between you. You had to stay just friends with him, even if it felt like you were starting to want more.

You needed a distraction, so you refocused your mind on the present.

“Did you eat all the pizza while I was in the shower?” you nudged his stomach with your knee gently.

Niall glanced at you in confusion, processing your words. As soon as he did, his eyes went wide.

“Don’t be mad.”

“I was hoping you’d share but I guess I’m not-“ you were cut off by a loud beeping in the adjacent kitchen, realization hitting after the initial shock of the sound. “Niallllll,” you sighed as you jumped out of his lap.

You ran to the kitchen, shutting off the oven and pulling out the charred remains of what was going to be a delicious pizza. Niall followed quickly, grabbing a hand towel to wave in front of the smoke alarm until it turned off.

“Sorry, pet,” he apologized once the house was once again silent. You stood shoulder to shoulder, sadly gazing at the burnt meal. “You went to shower and it sounded nice so I wanted to take one too. I got distracted and forgot.”

“It’s ok, Ni,” you put a hand gently on his wrist.

“No, it’s not. You worked hard to make dinner for us and I ruined it.” He seemed really upset about it, looking down and away from you instead of his normal attentiveness.

“Hey,” you called gently, “I’m actually, honestly, not mad at you, or upset at all for that matter. I should have remembered too. Accidents happen.”

“Honestly?” he looked up, his blue eyes searching yours for sincerity.

“Honestly. There is something you can do to make it up to me, though.”

“Anything,” Niall perked up eagerly. You reached up to pat him lightly on the cheek.

“You can order delivery from that place across town that I like.” You left him with that, walking back into the living room and getting comfortable again on the couch. You heard Niall talking in the other room, presumably making the call to the restaurant. After a minute he joined you, picking up your legs as he sat down so they were once again resting across his lap. He didn’t say anything until he noticed the way you were biting your lip to fight back a smile.

“What?”

“It’s not funny.”

“We almost burned my house down,” Niall was starting to catch on, the corners of his lips turning up.

“Yup. We almost burned your house down and it’s really not funny.”

Niall watched you struggle to keep your composure, amused, “it’s a little funny.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you both lost it.

It took you far too long to stop laughing, feeding off of each other’s energy. Once you had finally caught your breath, Niall stood up.

“Delivery should be here in ten minutes, do you want a beer?”

You nodded, watching him walk away.

That man is my best friend, you thought. As soon as the words crossed your mind, your earlier internal battle resurfaced. Sure, Niall was your best friend, but your relationship didn’t necessarily need to stay that way.

It certainly wasn’t how it had started.

“But it feels different when you’re with me”