NIAM STORIES (BXB ONE SHOTS)

The Godfather

It was hard to miss him. Even when he's ditched his boy-next-door blonde hair and gone all brunette, there was a charm—-maybe because he's Irish—-that made him stand out from the rest.

After months of planning, exhausting every avenue of promotion and touring for their solo albums and singles, the first of baby Bear Payne's godfathers has arrived.

The plan was supposed to be Niall taking a cab to Liam and Cheryl's place in L.A., having dinner with them before Cheryl would fly for New York for some reunion with friends, and then Niall would babysit while Liam worked at the studio. But as clever as they've always been, every goddamn paparazzi got wind of the situation.

So the plan had to change.

Liam had to drive to LAX to fetch Niall secretly; there was this whole thirty minutes of checking every now and then if someone had recognized either one of them before Niall could get into the car. When they arrived at Liam's house, however, Cheryl had already left.

"Someone was taking photos..." Liam insisted on carrying Niall's luggage. The Irish seemed distracted along the road, staring emptily on the horizon like it was some pretty painting. "Definitely taking photos."

"Won't matter anymore, mate." Niall had stopped protesting and was forced to walk the front porch empty-handed, eyes darting on every corner of the house's facade. "At least we didn't get mobbed though."

Niall first glanced at the square leather couches when he entered the living room. "Shame I didn't get to taste Cheryl's cookin'—-was looking forward for that."

Liam turned on the lights in the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a large pan covered in foil. "Still have some leftovers, if you want." Tossing it into the microwave, he turned toward Niall who was busy admiring every inch of the house.

"And it's my cooking," Liam said rather proudly in his strange American accent. "I can cook now, you know."

"I'm sure you can..." Niall answered absent-mindedly. "Where's my little godson?"

Liam eyed him suspiciously. "You're not going anywhere near him until you've snapped out of that trance of yours."

"What trance?"

"That trance!" Liam's voice rose. "Ever since I picked you up at the airport, you've been staring out the window."

"I wasn't in a trance," defended Niall.

The microwaved beeped; Liam pulled out oven mittens from the drawer and fished out the pan, laying it on the countertop. "If you weren't in a trance, then you would've known that Bear isn't here."

"Wait, what?"

"See!" Liam was getting frustrated. "I told you in the car—-Cheryl flew to New York. Seeing as we weren't sure you could come right away, she brought Bear with her."

"You told me that in the car?"

Liam threw the oven mitt at Niall. "Stop fucking around!"

Niall looked at him, horrified and confused. Liam rubbed his temple; he opened the fridge again and grabbed a water bottle. They were both quiet while Liam chugged the water down. He threw it into the trash and sighed.

"Two minutes in and we're already fighting..." Liam closed his eyes. "Niall, I promise I won't snap like that again, just tell me what's going on."

Niall bit his lower lip.

"C'mon, mate... You can trust me."

Niall's ears perked up. It's true, he trusted Liam more than most people. Even if Liam had changed, he could still feel the genuineness of his words. But Niall felt like secrets like the one he's keeping at the moment is something even Liam wouldn't understand...