Complacent [Duplicity Niall]

The bass vibrates through the floor, rattling my bones in the best way. The club is packed, lights flashing in dizzying bursts of neon, bodies pressing together in a way that feels reckless, electric.

I lean against the bar, half-listening to Liam talk to Nova while I nurse another drink. I don’t even know what number this is. Doesn’t matter. The warmth has settled in my limbs, turning everything hazy at the edges, making it easy to ignore the thoughts I don’t want to have.

The ones about the envelopes. The ones about Niall.

Speaking of—

I feel him before I see him. The familiar heat of his presence, the sharp scent of whiskey and cologne as he slides up beside me.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come,” he says, leaning an elbow against the bar.

I smirk, tilting my glass. “What, and miss all this?”

His lips twitch. “Figured you’d rather brood in a corner somewhere.”

“I can multitask.”

Niall chuckles, low and rough, before signaling the bartender. He orders something dark, something strong, and downs it in one go, shaking his head at the burn.

“Pace yourself, rockstar,” I tease.

“Where’s the fun in that?” His eyes glint under the flashing lights, and I hate how easily they pull me in.

It’s always like this.

The push and pull. The teasing, the lingering glances, the way we orbit around each other like it’s inevitable. Like we don’t know how to stop.

Niall shifts closer, just a little. “You having fun?”

I arch a brow. “Are you?”

He hums, scanning the room like he’s considering it. But his gaze settles back on me, fingers tapping against the counter. “More now that you’re here.”

The heat in my stomach twists. I roll my eyes to cover it. “You’re so full of shit.”

He grins, shameless. “You love it.”

I don’t answer. Won’t give him that.

Instead, I finish my drink and set the glass down, licking the taste of liquor off my lips. Niall watches the movement, his gaze dropping, darkening just a little.

That’s all it takes.

The air shifts, tightens, the energy between us crackling like a live wire.

This is what we do.

The game we play.

And we are both so, so good at it.

The night blurs into flashing lights and too many drinks, laughter spilling between shot. The music pulses, loud enough to feel in my ribs, and everything is easy. Warm.

Some Justin Bieber song, or at least a song with him in it, plays. Something about sucking a lolly, and I really doubt they're talking about candy.

I don’t know how long we’ve been here when I end up back near Niall, both of us breathless from dancing. His shirt clings to him, damp with sweat, curls sticking to his forehead. He looks ridiculous and perfect, grinning at me like we’re in on some secret no one else knows.

Then, suddenly—

“Oi, look at this,” Niall says, plucking a cupcake from a platter someone left near the bar. It’s small, pink frosting piled high, ridiculous in his tattooed hand.