NIAM STORIES (BXB ONE SHOTS)

Immortals

I woke up to the smell of bacon and pancakes.

There was a certainty in my mind that Niall was in the kitchen, making breakfast. He had work today, and so did I, so I quickly jumped out of bed. As my feet touched the floor, my eyes caught the analog clock on our bedside drawer: I groaned.

Sunday. Today's a Sunday.

I found myself sitting back down on the edge of the bed and sighed. It's been four years and I still think sometimes that we had interviews to attend to, concerts to sing for, and cameras to smile at. I'm a free man now, removed from the shackles of fame: Married and working as a professor at a university.

A scoff escaped my lips. Why was there still an ache in my heart when I remember and remind myself that those days of my life are finally over? Niall would slap the back of my head for thinking like a fool. Freedom is so much better than fame; having able to breathe is so much better that being able to buy everything.

Now I'm just a regular guy, walking out the street or driving his car to work. People still whisper behind my back -- especially at uni -- when they see me, giving me stares and asking why I left my life of fame. My face was on magazines, posters, and billboards across the world and now I'm tied to a mediocre salary of a teaching profession, living in a house that was built from Niall and I's savings.

I've sold my other houses -- properties that I thought I needed because I had the greens to buy it. But they're mere memories now. We now only had a single car too. But even though I'm not whisked on the moment's notice to travel around the world anymore, who knew normal life was so much better?

To those people who keep asking why I'm not famous anymore: It was killing me and I didn't even know it -- none of us did. We were young and at the top of the world.

"You're doing it again," the voice behind me made my muscles jump, surprised that he caught me in that certain situation once more.

Niall sat beside me with a frown on his face. "Li," he whispered, "are you okay?"

"I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, that's all," I replied and it was true. I'm still as busy as ever with school papers and lessons that I still feel the adrenaline rush whenever I teach younger minds than me.

A loud chuckle from Niall echoed through the room. I taken aback when he kissed me, pushing me down onto the mattress. Kissing him back, my fingers danced nimbly over the exposed skin by his waist. He pulled away for a moment and smiled.

"Idiot," he said, grinning. "You're always thinking too much."

"And you're here to remind me about it," I replied with a smirk. "What would I do without you?"

"You're probably that big-bellied professor with an unkempt beard by now," Niall answered, easing down my body to nibble the skin below my jaw, "and not the hot music tech professor girls always wink at, forgetting that you're already mine."

"Yours," I breathed heavily, my skin tingling at the feeling of his tongue running down my neck. "Always yours, babe."

At the end of that sentence, the usual routine came: The breakfast would be forgotten until almost noon, and the both of us would be naked in bed. We've done it plenty of times in the length of our marriage (It was only handjobs and blowjobs before then because Niall insists on sex after marriage) but no matter how many instances we have found ourselves writhing against each other, the high is always breathtaking.

"Fuck," Niall groaned as I pulled out of him. "Now that's what I call an appetizer."

"We should have breakfast first," I reminded him.

His agile fingers wrapped themselves up around my member. "Which breakfast are we talking about here?" Niall asked innocently while having a dirty smirk on his face.

I didn't reply right ahead so he'd get the message, and when he finally stopped moving up and down my shaft, I muttered, "You know what I mean, Niall. Real breakfast." And before he could even react or pout his lips like a puppy, I kissed him lightly and pulled him up, minding that he could sometimes get a little sensitive when he's sore.

After we had finally settled at the table, breakfast -- or rather brunch -- was a silent zone for the two of us. Niall and I have these awkward moments when we eat in silence, and oftentimes it was because I kept on thinking about my stupid past.

"Do you ever want to go back to singing?" he asked, impromtu, and I was taken aback by the question; I stared at him for a long while, perhaps looking like an idioit, because Niall never brought up the topic of past life as a boy band: it had always been me.

"Sometimes, I wonder what would've happened to us if we went a little more further," he pressed on. "And there's this nagging feeling in my chest that we wouldn't have disbanded in good terms if we carried on with that career." Niall scoffed and toyed around with a remaining quarter of his pancake. "Heck, I wouldn't be Uncle Ni to little Zarif if we weren't Zayn's best men at his and Perrie's wedding; Louis may be married to someone else now instead of Harry; and you, well," he nibbled his lower lip and glanced at me, "I can't imagine a future for me if there wasn't you."

Swallowing down the small broken noise impending in my throat, I reached for Niall's hand. "That's too overdramatic, Ni."

But there was no stopping the outburst of words from Niall's lips as he smiled. "I'll never stop thanking Sophia too," he said. "She and Andy knocked some sense into you after that whole 'I'm not gay' fiasco back our fifth tour. It took the both of them and Harry for me to agree to let you into my hotel room -- I'm sorry I slapped you on the face that night."

"Stop it." Niall gasped as I lifted him off his chair, pulling him close to me so our noses would brush against each other. "I don't need a constant reminder of how toxic fame had made me back then. Now, if you'd be so kind, I would like to remember the good things."

Niall's eyes softened and he tilted his head to kiss me properly. "That's the reason why I married you," he murmured in between the kisses. "You finally saw that fame isn't the only way to make yourself immortal."

"I love you," I blurted out, "with all my burnt-out stars."

No one could deny that Niall's laugh was infectious, and it was proven then and there when he started cracking up and puching me on the shoulder. "You got that out of a fanfic, didn't you?"

For the first time that day, I laughed hard with Niall. My name might not be on every magazine and every sign around the world but I'm contented on where I am right now.

As long as I'm with him, I can be an immortal.

__________________________

Sorry! I had to delete Crucifix because it incurred an R rating from Wattpad.

Yes, I know, months of silence and then just another worthless one shot. I've been terribly busy, writing scripts all over the place for short films. Who knew studying mass communication was this hard?

I'm afraid I can't make any promises regarding updates for I'm currently in a state of eternal stress with all the requirements to be passed.

See y'all sooner or later!

- Leon