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Walk That Mile
Purpledaisy

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Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out
scarily. “I wanted to get the most out of this trip so I
planned it carefully.” His voice is low and steady and
somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So far,
you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything I’ve tried to
do.”
“Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying
it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone
you would have gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and
ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so
don’t go blaming me.”
“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out
of the car. He slams the door shut with a deafening
reverb and Louis rolls his eyes.
-
A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the
plan.

5
6
 Twelve Days Before (Prologue)

TWELVE DAYS BEFORE

Chicago, Illinois
Louis Tomlinson is on the rooftop of the LondonHouse Chicago
when he gets the email. He’s halfway to tipsy with an attractive guy
smiling at him from across the bar and the city lights dancing
around in the background. He means to swipe on a text from his
sister but his finger slips to the email notification from FrontGate
Airlines instead and opens the message.
He reads it twice, blinking hard to make sure he’s reading it
correctly. Most of the words mush together but a few stay clear:
unsuccessful, bankruptcy, delayed refund. It reads up and down
like he’s screwed.
“The fuck?” is what he actually manages out loud, catching the
attention of Niall Horan who always seems to be closest when
Louis is having a problem.
“What?” Niall asks, slipping the black straw in his whiskey coke
between his lips.

7
“My airline went bankrupt,” Louis says, flashing the screen in
Niall’s direction.
Niall lets the straw fall from his mouth. “I told you not to book on
an airline no one has ever heard of.”
Louis groans and clicks the lock button on his phone, forgetting to
check the text from Lottie altogether. “The tickets were cheap,” he
mutters.

“So what are you going to do?” Niall asks unhelpfully.

“I don’t know,” Louis moans, draining the rest of his drink
and putting it on the ledge behind him. “Quit school?”
Niall’s laughter is a bark and Louis rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right,
Tommo. You just made it through four years at the University for
Spoiled Children and now you’re starting fucking law school. Don’t
back out now.”
“Southern California,” Louis corrects needlessly. “University of
Southern California.” Niall definitely knows where he goes to
school; he just chooses to be insufferable.
“Buy a ticket on a functioning airline,” their friend Sam chimes in
from across the semi-circle they’ve formed.
“Yeah, I guess,” Louis says with a shrug while trying not to roll his
eyes.
The whole point was to not blow money on a flight back to school
in LA and now that’s exactly what he’ll be doing anyway. It’s not
like his summer internship is paying in cotton candy but there are
preferable ways to spend his money than on a plane ticket.

8
“I’m going to get another drink,” he tells Niall. “And then I’m
going to get really drunk to forget this has happened at all and you
can be in charge of reminding me in the morning.” He winks at
Niall’s protesting squawk as he twirls his way through the crowd to
the bar.
It’s only when he comes back to his friends that he smells trouble.
Niall’s eyes go wide as he pulls Louis close into his side,
excitement fluttering on his lips.
“Oh god,” Louis says. He can smell the misplaced enthusiasm
dripping from Niall – knowing him for nearly ten years has done
that much.
“You haven’t even heard my idea yet,” Niall says with a quick eye
roll. “Just listen.”
“Are you starting an airline that flies your best friend back to
campus for free?” Louis grins and then lets it slide off his lips.
“Anything else, I’m not interested.”
“Shut up, and hear me out,” Niall says with a sigh. “I have this
friend – ”

Louis interrupts before Niall can go any further, “Do I know him?”

“No. I met him at my internship.”

Louis makes a buzzing sound with his mouth, shaking his head.
“I’m going to stop you there, Ni.
Love you but anyone you met at a museum internship is not for
me.”
Niall flicks Louis in the forehead. “This guy from my museum
internship goes to USC too,” he says somewhat forcefully. “He was
just telling me about how he’s driving back this year because he

9
wants to have his car on campus. He’s making a whole road trip out
of it, taking the old Route 66 and everything. Two weeks, three time
zones, eight states, something like that. It sounds really cool
actually.”
Louis blinks “Congratulations to your friend.” He flinches when
Niall flicks him again, on the wrist this time.
“What I’m saying is you should go with him,” Niall says like it’s
the best idea he’s ever thought of.
“A road trip,” Louis says slowly, “With a stranger you know from a
museum internship.”
“Would you stop bashing my internship?” Niall says with another
flick to Louis’s wrist. “History is important to me.”

Louis tries not to laugh when he nods and says, “Yes, I know.”
Niall was the president of their high school history club where
Louis was the only other member and that was partly guilt and
partly by force. Niall wants to work for the Smithsonian someday
and can prattle off historical facts as easy as Louis can recite types
of torts and corresponding case studies.
“Anyway, Harry’s not a stranger,” Niall huffs back to the original
point. “We’ve spent almost three months together. I think I would
have a pretty good read on the guy.” He takes another sip from his
nearly empty drink and Louis follows suit, trying not to wince over
the heavy ratio of vodka in his press. “Or you can buy an
exorbitantly priced ticket to sit inside a metal cylinder for five hours
instead. It’s up to you.”
Louis spits out his straw mid swallow. “You think a road trip is free,
Niall? That would still cost me a ton of money plus, not to mention,

10
possibly my life if your museum friend is actually a closeted mass
murderer.”
“You’re unbelievable,” Niall says and Louis can see he’s trying not to
laugh. “It’s your choice and honestly, they probably cost the same.
You’re getting ready to start law school. There’s no more time for
fucking around. Your real life is literally getting ready to start.”
Louis hesitates at the call out. Once he walked across the stage in
May and flew home to Chicago for one last summer, he knew his
life would be changing with the start of law school. It had always
been a periphery start in the future and now it’s lingering a month
away. Reality sweeping in quickly and there really is no slowing it
down. Maybe he does need another adventure before the summer is
out.
“You’re considering it,” Niall says with a sly smile. “I see the
wheels turning.”
Louis flips him off. “You don’t even know if the guy wants
someone going with him,” he says.
“You can’t just offer up people’s cars without asking.”
Without breaking eye contact, Niall takes his phone from his pocket
and holds it up. “I’ll go call him right now, swear it.”
Louis considers again. It’s not like he’s in a hurry to get back to
school yet and there’s a chance it could be entertaining, plowing
through the middle of America. He smiles at the thought.
“I see that smile,” Niall points like a kid catching Santa Claus in the
front hall. “I’m calling Harry.”
Louis has finished his drink and helped his friend Luke chat up a
girl with wavy blonde hair by the time Niall comes back to the

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group. He has a tight smile and his tone of voice doesn’t exactly
match his words when he says, “He’s really excited.”
Louis sighs and shakes his head. He does need the ride but he’s not
exactly sure what he’s gotten himself into. “What’s he like?” He
asks, “Is he fun, at least?”
Niall puts his phone back into his jeans and picks up his drink
again. “He has a really good heart.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Louis says, eyes going wide. “That’s
what people say about terrible people.”
“He’s become one of my closest friends, Tommo. You better watch
your mouth.”
Louis narrows his eyes, “I thought I was one of your closest
friends?”
Niall rolls his eyes. “I have a lot of friends, Louis. Harry has a good
heart in the best way possible, how’s that? He’s incredibly smart
and kind but he’s also quiet. He has a bit of a hard shell, I guess you
could say.”
“Oh, Christ,” Louis says dramatically, catching the attention of a
couple strangers near them. He flicks his hand to make them look
away as if to say, carry on. “I can’t believe you roped be into a road
trip with a bratty nerd who has a good heart.”
Niall doesn’t look impressed by Louis’s theatrics. “You better be
nice to him or I’ll have your balls.”
Louis fakes offense, “I’m always nice, Nialler.” Niall actually
snorts this time. Louis sighs. “What does he look like? Does he
look like a bratty nerd?”

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“Stop with the bratty nerd shit,” Niall says, getting his phone back
out of his too tight jeans. “I’ll show you his Instagram, if that will
make you shut up.”
Louis rubs his hands together, leaning in. “No promises.”
Niall pulls up Harry’s profile easily and Louis notes the user
‘harrystyles’ for any of his future stalking needs.
“I actually don’t think he really posts that many photos of himself,”
Niall says as the images load into their designated squares. “He’s
kind of artsy like that.”
Louis stares at the side of Niall’s head blankly before glancing
down at the phone. “Artsy is an understatement,” Louis says
plucking the phone from Niall’s hand and scrolling. Harry’s feed is
pictures of buildings and landscapes, crisp coffee shops and the toes
of his shoes on mosaic floors.
There is not a picture of his face to be found.
“He’s an Art History major,” Niall says when Louis hands the
phone back.
“Probably doesn’t believe in selfies or memes,” Louis says which is
a stark contrast from his own Instagram which has a healthy dose of
both.
Niall scrolls a bit further and then stops. “Except this,” he says,
holding the phone up.
Louis’s eyes go a bit wide when he focuses on the screen. “That’s
him?”
“His hair is shorter now,” Niall notes, pulling the phone back. Louis
grabs his wrist to stop him he’s not done looking.

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The photo is black and white and cropped just below a giant
butterfly tattoo on the guy’s stomach. There are birds inked on his
chest and all sorts of things along his arm but Louis is mostly drawn
to the line of his neck and jaw, the fucking leather collar splitting
the distance between the two. His hair is long, falling on top his
shoulders by the looks of it and his eyes are closed, face cast up.
“He likes photography too,” Niall says when Louis lets go of his
wrist, taking his phone back. He says it casually as though Louis
has not just looked at the photo of a bratty nerd who also happens to
be pretentious but also looks like a BDSM prince of darkness.
“That’s good,” Louis says, clearing his throat. That picture is going
to be burned on his eyelids, he already knows it. “He’s still a bratty
nerd, for the record.”
Niall smiles at him, too knowingly for Louis’s liking. “Noted,” he
says with a smirk.

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 Day 1, 2, 3

DAY ONE

Chicago, Illinois
Louis wakes up late on the day the road trip is supposed to start. He
has a mild hangover and sticky skin as he rolls off of Niall’s couch
and onto the floor. They’d gone hard the night before, he and Niall,
a bit too hard maybe, in preparation for nine months without each
other. Technically, they’ll both be home for the holidays and Louis’s
birthday in December but the shots went down easier when they
said nine months instead.
His head is pounding as he pulls himself off the floor to actually
stand, tripping over his own shoes on the way to the toilet. He
checks his phone once he’s washed his hands and stares blankly at
the time. Niall said Harry would be over around nine to pick him
up; considering that is two minutes away from the current moment,
Louis thinks he might be in a bit of a situation.

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He opts out of showering to collect his things and wrangle his
phone charger in a bag all while gnomes with tiny hammers tap on
the inside of his skull. He hears a car pull up out front of the
apartment complex at exactly nine but he ignores it in favor of
shoving his shoes in his bag.
There’s no way Harry is actually going to show up on time.
The doorbell going off both proves him wrong and makes him
groan as the tiny men with hammers pick up their pace against his
skull.
“That’s probably Harry,” Niall says from somewhere down the
hallway, his voice getting louder as he comes into the front room.
“He’s serious about his schedules.”
“You could have told me that,” Louis says as he zips his bag, a bit
breathless from the exertion. “I would have at least attempted to
make a good impression.”
Niall glances at him over his shoulder as he goes for the front door,
“Whoops, sorry,” he says halfheartedly.
Louis checks his reflection in the television screen as Niall answers
the door, his voice far too loud for the hour. The voice that meets
Niall’s is low and methodical, something out of an audio book
recording. Louis runs his hands through his hair, sniffs his shirt, and
goes to meet Harry Styles.
“Here he is,” Niall says as Louis comes up behind him. Niall moves
to the side as Harry steps inside the doorway.
Harry is taller than Louis expects, his shoulders broad and waist
thin, and his hair definitely shorter than the collar picture from two
weeks ago. Louis thought he’d forgotten about that photo but

16
clearly his subconscious was just waiting for the right moment to
bring it up.
“Louis Tomlinson,” he says in his best impersonation of a
functioning adult. He holds his hand out to Harry and definitely
doesn’t stare too long when Harry takes his hand in his own, the
muscles in his forearm flexing.

“Harry,” he says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” Louis says in an autopilot response. He takes in
Harry’s converse and tight black jeans, his white tee shirt and hair
pushed back from his face, his ridiculous jawline. Louis’s eyes drop
back to his shirt and he reads the simple black font: women are
smarter. He smiles, “Cool shirt.”
Harry’s eyes drop down as if he’s forgotten the text on his shirt and
then he almost blushes, if
Louis had to call it, when he looks back up. “Thanks.”
“I’m almost ready,” Louis says, averting his eyes from Harry’s
cheeks. “Let me just grab the last few things.”
Harry’s nod is tight and Louis thinks he may be restraining himself
from checking the watch on his wrist.
“Right back,” he promises, turning quickly and heading back the
way he came, leaving Niall to chat with Harry.
Harry doesn’t seem too horrible based on the first impression, Louis
thinks. He pulls on a new pair of pants and throws the others in a
bag. Hopefully they’ll stay somewhere with a laundry machine over
the next couple of weeks. Otherwise, they won’t be washed until
he’s back on campus and that may not be a pretty sight.

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Louis brushes his teeth with his finger and Niall’s toothpaste and
then slips one bag on either shoulder as he goes back toward the
front door. “Ready now,” he says when Niall and Harry both look
up at him.
“Your socks aren’t matching,” Niall notes with a glance at Louis’s
feet.
“How I prefer it,” Louis says with a smile, dropping his bags on the
floor. Harry looks wearily at the size of them and then mumbles
something about making room in the back of his car before walking
out the front door.
“Wish me luck,” Louis says lowly as he goes. “And pray I’m not
buried in a desert in Texas by the end of this.”
Niall laughs so hard he snorts, shaking his head. “I think you’ll find
you and Harry have more in common than you think.”
Louis thinks about what he knows - his major, his Instagram, his
quiet answers this morning - and smiles somewhat encouragingly.
“Yeah, maybe.” His voice sounds like when his sisters used to ask
their mother if she would let them have ice cream after dinner when
they didn’t have any in the freezer. Niall must hear it too because he
flicks Louis’s ear. “Ouch,” Louis says, rubbing the spot. “I won’t be
missing that.” “You’ll miss me,” Niall says sweetly and without
remorse.
Louis scrunches his nose, “Questionable,” he says even as he pulls
Niall in for a hug, squeezing him tightly around the shoulders.
He slips his feet into his Adidas sneakers by the front door and pats
his pockets for his phone and wallet before grabbing his bags again.
Harry is standing at the front door when he rights himself and they

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play an odd dodging game before Harry stands back so Louis can
pass.
“Do you need help?” Harry asks as Louis starts off down to where
Harry’s Jeep is parked on the curb.
“Got it,” Louis calls over his shoulder. He can already tell that he’s
pushed Harry away from his comfort zone just by coming; he’s
certainly not going to make him load his bags as well.
The back of the Jeep is crammed with bags and there’s barely room
for Louis’s two duffel bags though he manages to shove them in
eventually. It takes a bit more power than he expects to get the back
hatch shut but it finally latches as he catches his breath. The last ten
minutes have done nothing for his hangover and he already feels
slightly nauseous. It’s not the best way to start an extended road
trip.
He pastes on a smile when Niall walks Harry down to the car,
Harry’s eyes cast down and Niall smiling tensely. If they end up
hating each other, it will be Niall’s fault, Louis decides then and
there.

“Ready?” Louis directs his question at Harry.

“Sure, yeah,” he says. He takes his keys out of his pocket and goes
for the driver’s side. “Bye, Niall,” he says just before he gets in, the
thud of the car door closing echoing on the street.

“Man of few words,” Louis mutters as he hugs Niall again.

“Give him a chance,” Niall says when Louis pulls back, a small
smile on his lips.
“Too late to back out now,” Louis says brightly before opening the
passenger door and sliding in. It’s only as he shuts the door that the

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he realizes the window is down and Harry has definitely heard his
quick exchange with Niall. He doesn’t need to see his reflection to
know his face is steadily going red.
“Don’t forget your seatbelt,” is what Harry chooses to say, starting
the car and shifting into drive.
“Thanks,” Louis says quietly, pulling the belt over his lap.

Two-thousand miles has never sounded quite so far.

*
Silence seeps in the car as they navigate down the tight side roads
of Chicago, cars pressing in on either side of them as people in suits
and business casual dresses dart in the street and around cars to get
across. Louis jumps each time they do but Harry seems unbothered,
his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
The radio isn’t turned on and Harry doesn’t speak - not Louis wants
to start a conversation anyway. It’s not as if they know anything
about each other or have a vested interest in learning more. Louis
taps his fingers against his thighs and adjusts in his seat, tugging on
the seat belt for something to do.
The quiet does give his hangover some reprieve though he feels
nauseous and each time he burps it tastes a lot like tequila. His head
still hurts from the bright morning light but as he closes his eyes for
some relief, Harry slams on the breaks in the car. Louis’s eyes fly
open as his hands hit the dashboard in front of him, alcohol
suddenly threatening to regurgitate at the sudden movement.
“I hate driving in the city,” Harry says like an apology as he eases
the gas pedal and the car moves forward.

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“Should I be worried about how far Los Angeles is?” Louis asks.
He means it to be a joke but it comes out flat. His body is rebelling
against him and he’s scared to open his mouth too wide when he
talks.

Harry shifts in his seat and shrugs a shoulder but doesn’t answer.
“It’s mostly open spaces where we’re headed though, right?” Louis
asks. He already hates the silence and they’ve been together for ten
minutes.

“Yeah, mostly,” Harry says, eyes on the road.

Louis bulges his eyes at his brief answer but stays quiet this time. If
Harry doesn’t want to talk for the next two-thousand miles, that’s
up to him. Louis may start having conversations with himself, if
he’s forced to but that’s neither here nor there.
He settles back in his seat and goes back to tapping his fingers on
his thighs, playing the rhythm to a song he heard in a bar last night
though he can’t remember the name. The bar brings back a rush of
memories of taking shots and Louis actually gags a little bit. He
turns his head toward the window to hide it. He needs to get
something in his stomach besides the swirling remnants of alcohol
he’s working with right now. A smarter man would have packed a
snack or eaten breakfast before getting in the car - he blames his
hangover for the oversight.
“Would you mind if we, uh, got some snacks?” Louis thinks about
the words for almost two minutes before he says them out loud.
He’s not sure what he’s expecting Harry to do when he asks -
maybe pull over and tell Louis to get out of the car, for one.

“Sure,” Harry says instead.

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They pass two gas stations and a grocery store before Harry finally
pulls off at a Mini-Mart.
“You want anything?” Louis asks as he undoes his seatbelt but
Harry is already ahead of him, opening the car door and getting out
without a word. Louis is pretty sure he’s going to stop putting effort
into being friendly and sociable sometime very soon.
In the store he buys a few bags of chips and candy, four bottles of
water, a soda and a breakfast sandwich. His arms are full when he
drops everything on the counter, a sheepish smile matching the
unimpressed glare of the cashier.
“Road trip,” he says as she rings him up. She doesn’t really seem to
care.
Harry is eyeing the wall of snacks when Louis finishes paying so he
leaves him to it, going back out to the car and re-taking his spot in
the passenger side. He wonders if Harry will ever let him drive the
Jeep or if he’ll be banished to a navigator role instead. Perhaps he’ll
just be ignored like a nuisance for two weeks straight and then he’ll
be questioning his entire existence by the time he gets back to
campus. He rolls his eyes and unwraps his breakfast sandwich.
The grease is pressing through the parchment paper wrapping and
Louis can’t remember the last time he was as happy about
something as simple as grease. He takes too big of a bite and chews
like a grossly underfed elephant as he watches Harry crossing the
parking lot.
Harry is good looking – Louis already feels like it’s a commonly
shared opinion and not just his own - but he’s a bit awkward, the
way his toes point in and his shoulders tend to hunch. A car swerves
to avoid hitting Harry just then and Louis actually chokes a bit as he

22
watches it happen. He doesn’t need his driver to be road kill while
they're still in the city limits.
Harry doesn’t mention it but tosses Louis a wad of napkins when he
gets in the car, like he anticipates Louis will need them. Granted, he
probably will and he did forget to grab his own - but it’s still
slightly off putting to be thought of in that way.
“Thanks for stopping,” Louis says as Harry starts the car. He should
be grateful now, he assumes, before they really get going and never
stop again. Harry seems like that kind of road trip director.
“Sure,” Harry says without looking, craning his neck as he backs up
out of the spot and steers the car back toward the road.
The only saving grace is Harry shoving his finger on the power
button of the radio before they turn out of the parking lot, the car
filling with the exact song Louis had been trying to remember not
ten minutes before. He doesn’t know whether it’s a good sign or an
omen.

*
The silence between them starts to become stifling as they turn onto
the highway heading south. Louis has finished his sandwich and a
bottle of water while Harry snacks on some sort of green chips out
of a bag in his lap. Louis has avoided trying to figure out what kind
they are in case Harry thinks he’s staring at his dick. Not that he’s
above such an act but maybe not with someone he hardly knows.
“So,” Louis says after another quiet moment as a commercial
comes on the radio. “Where are we headed?”
The look Harry gives him could easily cut through a hard surface
and his haughty, “Los Angeles,” does nothing to help Louis’s initial
impression of him.

23
“Right,” Louis says. He takes a deep breath and let’s it out quietly
though he thinks Harry hears it by the aggressive way he clenches
his teeth on the next chip he eats. Louis has done nothing but be
himself and, so far, that’s not doing him any favors but he’s not sure
who else to be in the meantime. “I meant like, do you have a route?
Or are we just freeballing our way across the country.”
“Freeballing?” Harry’s lips twitch when he glances over at Louis
and it’s around then he realizes he hasn’t seen Harry smile once
since they’ve met. He almost gets one for freeball though, so he
must be improving.

“Roaming,” Louis says, “Exploring. Whatever.”

Harry looks back at the road, the almost-smile already gone. “I
made a list of places I want to go,” he says when Louis starts to be
convinced he won’t answer. “I’ve been planning this trip all
summer so I do have an itinerary.”
“Do you?” Louis smiles as he looks over. “Where is it, then? Can I
review and give feedback?”
He’s joking but Harry’s hands tense on the steering wheel and Louis
isn’t sure he’s in on the joke.
“It’s in the glove compartment,” Harry says, nudging his head
toward the space in front of Louis.
Louis opens the box with the eerie feeling it means more to Harry
than it does to him as he pulls out a tattered black notebook and
eases the compartment closed again with a dull click.
“The marked page,” Harry says before Louis can open the book to
any old page. As if he would he has sisters, he knows snooping
through a journal is highly frowned upon. He did learn the hard way
but that’s another story.

24
Louis isn’t sure what he expects as he opens the journal to the page
marked with a purple sticky note but it’s certainly not an actual
itinerary. Each day is listed out with places to visit and how many
miles there are between each stop. New states are marked with red
arrows and the right hand margin is a rough budget per day. Each
site has a number of hours next to it and it’s only after he stares at it
for a while that Louis realizes those are time estimations of how
long Harry is planning to stay at each place. As a person who hates
planners, forgets dates at the drop of a dime and lives the way he
generally wants - the detailed itinerary just about makes Louis
break out in hives.
“Looks like you’ve got it all planned out,” Louis says, eyes
dragging down the first page of
Harry’s handwritten itinerary and then flipping to the next. Illinois,
Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas,
New Mexico, Arizona, California. Funks Grove for two hours,
Chain of Rocks Bridge for an hour,
Meramec Caverns for three, Cadillac Ranch for one and a half
hours. “Very planned out.”
Harry tightens his wrists on the steering wheel and rubs his lips
together before he answers. “I didn’t want to waste any time.”
Louis’s eyes glaze over the list again and he snaps the journal shut.
“Thanks for taking me along, then. I know that wasn’t part of the
plan.”
“It’s fine,” Harry says which isn’t nearly as nice as, “Happy to have
you along for the ride,” but isn’t as aggressive as, “Get out of my
car,” so Louis takes it for what it is.
“So, where are we going first?” Louis asks with a hint of a smile.
He knows how to take a hint when someone doesn’t want to talk to

25
him but he’s not sure what to do with the hint afterwards. He really
enjoys poking and pinching until things explode and he’s a bit
worried Harry has become his next victim.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” Louis says.

“You just read the itinerary,” Harry says, glancing over. He switches
lanes to a faster one and accelerates the car slightly.

“I’m testing you, though,” Louis says. “To make sure you know.”
Harry looks at him silently for entirely too long as the driver of the
car before focusing back on the road. “Midewin Tallgrass Prairie,”
he says finally.

“A prairie,” Louis says with a hint of awe in his voice. “Thrilling.”

Harry shoots him another one of those scary looks again. “I wanted
to hike a bit,” he says. “Stretch my legs.” He glances at Louis
quickly. “You can wait in the car if you’d like.” Louis can’t be sure
if he’s telling a joke or not but his lips almost twitch as he goes
back to staring at the road.
“You can’t just leave me in the car,” Louis says, “I’ll die of heat
exposure. Or I’ll get so hungry
I’ll be forced to eat your green chips.”
Harry pauses with one of the green things partway to his mouth.
“What green chips?”
“Those,” Louis points as it disappears into Harry’s mouth. He
gestures at his lap, “What are they anyway?”
Harry licks his lip and then pulls another one from the bag. “Snap
pea crisps?”

26
“Snap pea crisps?” The incredulity seeps from Louis’s voice. “You
can’t have a perfectly normal chip like the rest of the world? Made
out of a potato?”
Harry actually smiles then and he’s got a dimple in his cheek Louis
which notices immediately. “I like these ones,” Harry says, chewing
thoughtfully. “They have an interesting taste but are still kind of
salty. I tell myself they’re healthier.”
Louis smirks, “You can’t say they have an interesting taste and then
not let me have one.”
Harry looks at him from the corner of his eye and then lifts the bag
without looking over. “You won’t like it.”
“Don’t say that like you already know,” Louis says as he reaches in
the bag. He takes one crisp between two fingers and inspects it. It
looks like a snap pea from what he can tell but it’s definitely been
fried beyond much further recognition. “I might have a very diverse
pallet.”
Harry actually snorts as he takes the bag back and sets it in his lap.
Louis shakes his head at him but puts the crispy pea in his mouth
anyway. He chews and tilts his head back and forth, trying to
identify the taste.
“It tastes like weed,” he says, chewing quicker. “It tastes like if you
took weed straight out of the bag and chewed on it.”
Harry actually gapes when he looks over this time and Louis starts
to worry about their safety before Harry looks forward again. “I
can’t say I’ve ever done that.”
“I haven’t either,” Louis says quickly. “I much prefer to inhale
rather than chew but you know what I mean.”

27
Louis gets half a laugh out of Harry for that. “I can assure you I
don’t know what I mean.”
Louis rolls his eyes. “Have you ever thought something tasted like
grass before?”
Harry scrunches his lips and shrugs. “Kale, I guess. With too much
dressing, it’s like soggy grass.”
Louis gags slightly. “I’ll take your word on that one. You’ve never
eaten soggy grass right? But you think kale tastes like it. It’s like
that.”
Harry looks at him and takes a deep breath as if he’s about to
confess something.
“Are you telling me you have eaten soggy grass?” Louis asks
seriously.
Harry actually laughs then and Louis gets a bit caught off guard - by
the dimples in his cheeks, his two big front teeth and pretty lips.
“I’m kidding,” he says. “I don’t eat soggy grass.”
Louis nods blankly and then remembers the thread of their
conversation, “Right, exactly. This is like soggy grass. Except
weed.”
Harry takes another pea from the bag and bites into it, chewing
slowly. Louis watches his side profile, the way his eyebrows raise
and his nose wiggles.
“Yeah, yeah there it is,” Louis says, pointing. “You see what I’m
saying now.”
“I guess so,” Harry says, putting the other half in his mouth.
“Bizarre way of thinking about it, though.”

28
Louis sighs and shifts in his seat. “I told you I have a diverse
pallet.”
Harry smirks and Louis promises he’s not keeping track of how
many smiles he’s gotten out of him so far.
“This means I don’t have to share, right? You don’t like my weed
peas?”
Louis is the one to laugh this time. “I didn’t say anything about not
liking them,” he says. He holds out his hand to Harry. “Weed me,
please.” Harry smirks, barely, as he hands over four more pea crisps
to Louis and pops another in his mouth.

*
It turns out that after Chicago, Illinois is just open plains of corn
and a lot of it. Louis knew in the abstract way you know things after
learning them in school. He’s never seen it himself, though. His
family usually spent most of their vacations close to the shore of
Lake Michigan or traveling over Illinois in a plane headed for the
ocean. He’s yet to actually drive through it and stare at the endless
cornfields, the absolute nothingness surrounding the highway.
He’s getting close to asking Harry if they’re lost in the never-ending
corn maze but then there’s an exit sign announcing the Midewin
National Tallgrass Prairie in three miles and he keeps his mouth
shut. It’s probably best that Harry doesn’t totally hate him before
they cross the state lines.
“I think this is it,” Harry says as they pull into the parking lot. He
turns down the radio the way Louis’s mom does when she arrives
anywhere. As if it actually matters.
“What gave it away?” Louis asks gesturing at the sign in front of
them and smiling. Harry doesn’t match with a smile of his own and

29
Louis swallows his own smile pretty quickly. He glances down at
his sweatpants and frowns. “Do you have proper hiking clothes? I
definitely didn’t pack anything beyond what I usually wear at
school and that is definitely not hiking appropriate.”
Harry shakes his head and adjusts his sunglasses over the bridge of
his nose. “I don’t actually want to hike, Louis. I just thought it
would be a good way to stretch our legs since the drive is kind of
long.”
Louis isn’t sure what it says about his own health that he feels just
fine sitting for hours straight comfortable even. “Probably a good
idea,” he says out loud.
Harry gets out of the car to check the map at the first trailhead while
Louis downs another bottle of water. The liquid and greasy food
mixture has helped some but he still has a lingering headache. He
grabs another water bottle from the floor of the car and finally
follows Harry. It actually does feel good to stand up after being in
the car for two hours but he’s not planning to say that out loud.

“Find a good path?” He asks Harry as he comes up behind him.

“We’ll just go in for half of a mile and then loop back through
here,” Harry says, dragging his finger around a highlighted part of
the map.
“Looks good to me,” Louis says because it’s been made pretty clear
he doesn’t get a say in much of this cross-country trip.
“Let me just grab my camera from the car,” Harry says jogging
toward the Jeep.
Louis looks around the parking lot - the families getting out of their
cars with picnics and serious hikers with mosquito nets jetting off
the top of their fancy hats. Harry is back in less than a minute with

30
a camera attached to a pink strap around his neck and resting
against his side. It’s definitely fancier than any camera Louis ever
plans to own.
“Ready,” Harry says when he reaches Louis, though he doesn’t
pause for long, already heading out to the trailhead. Louis squeezes
the water bottle in his fist once and then follows after him with only
a slight haughty sigh.

*
The hike - granted it’s only just over a mile round-trip - is not fun.
The views are fine - grass rather than corn with wildflowers
springing up every so often - and the actual hike is easy - flat grass
with a gentle breeze but it’s utterly boring in every other way.
Harry doesn’t talk to Louis once and stays three steps ahead of him
at all times except when he stops to take a photo which is a
startlingly common occurrence. Louis ventures to guess he takes
photos of at least twenty different types of wildflowers and
probably thirty wide frame shots of the open prairie. At first, Louis
pauses when Harry is shooting but then Harry will start walking
again without a word, leaving Louis behind so he stops pausing to
wait and just trudges through their chosen path. He takes one
picture on his phone of the prairie and Harry happens to block his
shot while taking a picture with his own camera which seems kind
of fitting for the entire afternoon.
It only takes an hour for Louis to start to wonder if they’ve turned
down the wrong path to take them back to the car when he sees the
parking lot and sighs in relief. He’s not sure Harry would stop if
they accidentally took the wrong path - he’s exactly the kind of
person who would enjoy an accidental nine mile hike.

31
Harry isn’t behind Louis when he emerges into the parking lot and
he vaguely wonders if he should worry. He wasn’t walking that
quickly but Harry tends to move like a sloth when he finds
something to shoot, or so Louis has learned in their limited time
together. Harry is also the one with the car keys so Louis finds the
nearest bench and sits down to wait, finishing the bottle of water
he’s been carrying and then ducking into the park ranger restroom.
He comes out the same time Harry shows up at the end of the trail,
glancing around like he thinks Louis has abandoned him.
When Harry’s eyes settle on Louis he’s not sure if it’s relief or, Oh,
you’re still alive then .
“Made it out okay?” Louis asks when he’s close enough, rubbing
his hands together to get rid of the hand sanitizer from the
bathroom. It seems stickier than he’s used to and he really doesn’t
want to know why.
Harry nods, scratching at his neck. “Yeah, got some good photos
too.”
“Cool,” Louis says, considering he has absolutely no interest in
photography. “Are you keeping a blog or something?”
Harry shrugs a shoulder, still scratching at the same side of his
neck.
“I have a Tumblr account that I put them all on. Just a way to keep
track of everything but I don’t think anyone looks at it.”
Louis can’t figure out if Harry is being self-deprecating or he’s
actually running a blog nobody cares about. “Awesome,” he says.
He’s about to suggest they get back in the car when Harry drops his
hand from his neck and Louis gets a good look at where he’s been
scratching. “What happened?” He asks, eyes going wide.

32
Harry puts his hand on his neck self-consciously. “I was itching it,
probably made it red.”
“Uh,” Louis brings his eyes from Harry’s neck to his face and then
back. “I don’t think you did that on your own.”
“What?” Harry slaps at his neck and Louis comes in even closer.
There’s an intense red spot in the middle and smaller raised bumps
all around it - being around six little siblings for most of his life
makes Louis adept at recognizing a bee sting. “I think you got
stung,” he says.
Harry tries to scratch at it again and Louis grabs his wrist to stop
him. Realizing what he’s done, he releases his grip. Harry drops his
hand as soon as he does.
“And you’re getting a couple of hives, it looks like. Are you allergic
to bees?”
Harry looks at him with wide eyes and Louis never realized how
green they are - hasn’t actually been this close to Harry’s face since
they met. There’s an abnormal amount of space missing between
them for two almost strangers.
“I’ve never been stung,” he says. “My mom always worried about
this, though. What would happen if I did get stung.”
Louis scrunches his nose, “I think we’re about to find out. Did
you pack a first-aid kit?” “Somewhere in the back of the car,”
Harry mutters, his hand going back to his neck.

“Stop touching it,” Louis tells him. “And give me the car keys.”
He parks Harry on the curb near the Jeep with another warning not
to touch his neck as he unlocks the car and pops the back hatch. If
he thought it was full this morning, it’s no match for the JackInThe-

33
Box reaction of opening it again, their bags tumbling out onto the
asphalt parking lot.
“Well, fuck,” Louis says to himself as he starts to poke around for a
first-aid kit of some sort.
“It feels hot,” Harry mutters from beside him and Louis rolls his
eyes without lifting his eyes from his search.
“I’ve told you like eight times not to touch it,” he says. “Clearly
you’re not listening.” He doesn’t look back but he swears he can
feel Harry glaring at him.
The first-aid kit ends up being squished between two bags in the far
corner of the trunk and is actually a plastic bag shoved full of band
aids, pill bottles and gauze.
“Got it,” Louis says proudly, turning back. Harry looks a mess with
his camera still across his chest, his hair pushed back and pointing
three different directions, two more hives slowly appearing on his
neck.
“Think there’s a Benadryl in there,” Harry says tightly, his fingers
twitching like he’s trying not to touch.
Louis dumps the bag out next to Harry on the curb and sifts through
the contents for the right bottle. He pushes Harry’s head to the side
to see if the stinger is still in the wound and though he isn’t a
doctor, he doesn’t think that it is.
“Let me get you some water,” he says, standing back up and
grabbing his last bottle from the floor of the car. He counts out two
pills and puts them in Harry’s hand and then he unwraps one of the
sanitizer wipes and brushes it over Harry’s skin for a lack of actual
hive cream.

34
“It’s cold,” Harry says when he flinches away.
“Don’t be a baby,” Louis says, pressing down more gently with the
wipes because he’s not a terrible person.
“The Benadryl is going to make me drowsy,” Harry says as he rubs
the two pills between his fingers. “I won’t be able to drive.”
“Luckily I have a driver’s license, then,” Louis says. “Because we
are not sitting in the parking lot of this prairie until you feel okay.
And I’m not going to listen to you suffocate to death because your
neck won’t stop swelling.”

Harry kind of glares but then takes the pills anyway. “The next
place we’re going is only a couple miles up the road,” Harry says.
“I’ll just stay awake until we get there and then sleep after for the
next leg.”
Louis doesn’t tell Harry the Benadryl is going to knock him out as
soon as he’s in the passenger seat, he just nods. “Sure, yeah.”
Harry gets in the car and leaves Louis to re-pack the trunk
because of course he does. Louis is borderline sweating by the
time he gets the back door closed again and gets in the driver’s
seat. Harry is already barely moving in the passenger seat, his
eyes blinking heavily.
“Where to?” Louis asks as he starts the car. He knows he could pull
the itinerary out of the glove compartment again but he has a
feeling Harry has the next bit memorized.
“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry says his voice thick with sleep. “Go
north on 53 for like ten miles.”
Louis was about to enter the name, stupid as it is, into his maps app
for directions but it seems Harry has that covered as well. “Alright,”

35
he says, putting his phone in the cup holder. “Next stop the Dotty
Drive In.”
“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry says but it’s halfhearted. Louis isn’t
even to the edge of the parking lot before Harry is fully asleep, eyes
closed and breathing even, his camera still strapped to his chest.

*
Harry is right on the money on the directions and they get to the
drive-in less than twenty minutes after the prairie. Louis steers into
the nearly empty parking lot and puts the car in park but doesn’t cut
the ignition.
The Polka-A-Dot Drive In looks like any other drive in he’s seen in
his life with the exception of the Route 66 sign hanging from the
billboard out front and the life size statues of Betty Boop and Elvis
standing near the door. Even from the parking lot, Louis can tell the
paint is chipping on the figures and the Polk-A-Dot Drive In is a
faded spectacle of whatever it used to be.

“Harry,” Louis says, “I don’t think we should go here.”

Harry doesn’t so much as snuffle in his sleep as Louis gets the
itinerary out of the glove compartment, turning to the correct page.
He types the next destination - International Walldog Museum - into
his maps and sets it to start, the automated voice telling him to get
back on the freeway.
“Harry,” Louis says again, “You have three seconds to wake up and
tell me this is where you’ve always wanted to eat lunch or we’re
leaving.”
The car stays quiet except for Dua Lipa on the radio. Louis nods
and puts the car in drive, “You’re right,” he says. “Let’s skip it.”

36
 *
Harry is still asleep when Louis pulls off in front of the museum a
few towns over in Pontiac - a brick building on a quaint strip of
other small buildings. The front is a mural of Route 66 through
Illinois that, though faded, actually looks pretty cool.
“Here we are,” Louis announces. “The most boring museum in the
world.”
He doesn’t mean for Harry to hear that but of course it’s the
moment he chooses to wake up, disgruntled and glaring at Louis
before he’s even fully conscious.
Louis turns the car off and pulls out the key, “Welcome back to the
land of the living.”
Harry blinks and looks out the front window and then to the side. “I
thought we were going to the diner?”
Louis sucks in a breath and says quickly on the exhale, “We did but
you were asleep so I kept driving.”

Harry stares at him blankly. “You kept driving?”

“Granted, I did ask you if you’d like to go inside for lunch and you
didn’t respond.”
“Because I was medicated and asleep,” Harry says, clearly in
disbelief. “You couldn’t wait twenty minutes until it wore off?”
“Hate to break it to you but we’ve been driving for an hour and a
half and this is the first time you have so much as moved.”
“Yeah, well you don’t get to just decide what we are and aren’t
going to do,” Harry says. He unhooks his seatbelt and flings it

37
against the car door with a loud metallic thud. “This is my road trip
and you can’t just take it over because you don’t like my ideas.”
“Did you want me to drag your unconscious body into the diner just
so you could say you’d been there?” Louis says back, his voice
rising. “You have such a detailed fucking timeline of where we
should be, I’m guessing you’d yell at me if I did let you sleep at the
diner and didn’t drive to the museum instead. Your anal
retentiveness is showing, Harry.”
Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “I
wanted to get the most out of this trip so I planned it carefully.” His
voice is careful and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he
was yelling. “So far, you’ve put your sticky fingers in everything
I’ve tried to do.”
“Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying it’s my
fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone you would have
gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and ran the car off the road
because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”
“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out of the car. He
slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and Louis rolls his
eyes.
Louis watches as Harry goes into the front door of the museum and
disappears, frustration curling in his stomach. He considers starting
the car and driving away already imagining Harry’s potential
reaction. He stops with a sigh, dropping his head back against the
seat. As far as beginnings go, he and Harry haven’t had a good one.
Technically, there’s no rule that says Louis actually has to go to the
same boring-as-hell sites as Harry chooses. He turns around in his
seat to find somewhere else to spend his time and spots a diner
across the street. Perfect.

38
He climbs out of the car and heads right for Pat’s Diner with the
ring of car keys hanging from his finger. He’s sure Harry will be
livid when he comes out to find Louis gone and the keys missing
but maybe Louis wants to push a bit more - see what it takes for
Harry to really explode.
Pat’s Diner is simple and looks just like every other diner they’ve
passed so far - with the exception of Harry’s prized Dot Diner, of
course. The booths are covered in shiny red vinyl and the tables are
clean minus the leftover coffee rings of days past. The waitress calls
for Louis to sit anywhere as he walks in so he chooses a table near
the window.
He orders a burger and fries from the sticky menu and then sends a
message to the group chat he has with his sisters that he’s still alive
before busying himself with staring out the window. The people
coming and going from the sign museum look like his
grandparent’s age or young families setting out on an educational
trip with screaming children. Louis doesn’t envy them – though he
does know a screaming twenty-one year old currently in the
museum as well.
Harry comes out after Louis has been served his late lunch, half of
his fries gone already. He doesn’t seem bothered that Louis is
missing as he sets about taking photos of the mural out front of the
museum and then going in closer to inspect it. Louis rolls his eyes
just watching him rub his hand over the wall like he’s some sort of
expert on the entire thing.
In hindsight, Louis thinks he was pretty spot on when he made his
blind assumptions about Harry he seems to be just as pretentious
and bratty as he’d assumed. Louis takes an aggressive bite of his
hamburger remembering Harry all but blaming him for the fact he

39
got stung by a bee. He chews so hard his jaw starts to get sore
before he realizes what he’s doing.
He glances out the window again to see Harry walking around the
car, peering in the windows like Louis may be hiding in the
backseat. Little does he know Louis is staring at him like a creep
from thirty feet away. Harry doesn’t seem all that upset about it
when he finds the car is empty; he just sits down on the curb by the
back tire and looks through the pictures on his camera. Louis keeps
staring at the top of Harry’s head wondering how long it’ll take
before he actually gets annoyed that Louis has gone missing.
The answer, it seems, is longer than Louis thought possible. He
finishes eating and Harry is still sitting on the curb, letting his head
fall back against the rays of sun. It’s only the early evening but the
sun is starting to shift in the sky, always a bit restless in the
beginning of September.
Louis knows he can’t stay holed up in the diner forever so he pays
his tab eventually and wanders back out to the car, sucking on one
of the complimentary mints from the hostess stand.
Harry must hear him coming because he sits up straight, eyes
falling right to Louis. “I was wondering where you got off to.”
Louis shrugs which is essentially a non-answer but Harry takes it.
“How was the museum?”
“Cool, actually,” Harry says, some genuine enthusiasm in his voice.
“A lot of the signs are displayed with the original draft from the
artist and the other progressions of how they got to where the
finished product is.”

Louis smirks down at him, “You’re an art fanatic then?”

40
Harry shrugs and licks his bottom lip. “I love the process behind it,
the story. The finished product is always cool but how it got
inspired and where the influence came from - that’s kind of what
I’m into.” He may be a bratty pretentious art nerd but he does seem
to know his stuff.
“I just stopped over at the diner for a bite to eat,” Louis says. “Did
you want anything?”
Harry shakes his head, “I think I’m still warring with the effects of
the Benadryl. Feels like I’m in a dream.”
Louis wants to ask if he remembers them yelling at each other in
the car not one hour before but decides to hold off.
“I actually was waiting for you to ask something,” Harry says.
Louis lifts his chin, wondering if this is when Harry tells him to find
his own way back to campus. “Yeah?”
“There are blue footprints all over town that lead to different murals
painted by artists in honor of the museum,” Harry says. “I thought it
would be fun to walk through them before the sun goes down.”
Louis casts a glance up at the sky. It hasn’t started to turn peachy
yet so they may still have a chunk of time. He doesn’t let the guilt
of the time he wasted procrastinating at Pat’s Diner lick at his ribs
for too long.
“Would you like to go with me?” Harry asks when the silence
draws on.
Louis manages to snap out of his thoughts with a nod. “Yeah, sure.
Do we have anywhere else to be tonight?”
Harry shakes his head, “I planned to get a hotel here in Pontiac for
the night. Head out again tomorrow morning.”

41
Louis nods, not sure what more he can add anyway. If Harry wants
to pretend the exchanging of barbs in the car didn’t happen earlier,
Louis can wish it away too. He’s not a fan of murals but he’ll fake it
in the interest of a peaceful evening. He really would like not to
have another door slammed in his face.

*
The walk through Pontiac is far more enjoyable than Louis expects,
the early evening breeze keeping them cool as they trace the blue
footsteps around town. Pontiac isn’t big by any means but they pass
by plenty of restaurants and gift shops with boutique hotels
scattered throughout. Harry keeps his camera attached to his face
the entire time they walk, pointing out intricacies in the mural art as
they go - it’s all very fitting with Louis’s art snob persona he’s been
crafting for him.
By far the coolest mural is one of a retro soda fountain that’s been
made to look real against the brick wall. It’s as life-like as Louis has
ever seen and he’s almost tempted to reach out for the knob to try
and open the front door.
“Have you seen the ones in New York that look like holes in the
sidewalk?” Harry asks as they admire the painting.
“No.” Louis can’t say he’s ever given that much attention to art.
“Have you?”
“Not in person,” Harry says without missing a beat. “But I’ve
always wanted to. They have one that’s supposed to be a crater with
aliens crawling out of it. There’s a video somewhere of people
actually skirting around the edge because they think it’s real.”
Louis laughs imagining the scene - it sounds like an elaborate
practical joke which he can always get behind. “I can’t believe you

42
haven’t been to New York,” he says. “That seems like an art nerd’s
dream.” By the time he realizes what he’s said, it’s too late.
Surprisingly, Harry half laughs.

“An art nerd?”

Louis thanks whoever is in charge of the sun and moon he didn’t
say bratty as the precursor to art nerd. “I mean if the shoe fits,” he
says. He takes a step back from the wall to face Harry. “Niall just
told me you were an Art History major and you seem pretty into it.”
“Art nerd,” Harry repeats, laughing slightly. “Can’t say I’ve gotten
that before. I guess it is fitting though.”
“I didn’t mean to be offensive,” Louis says as they go back to
tracing the blue footsteps to the next mural.

“It’s just what you call me in your head and it slipped out?”
Louis is glad Harry isn’t a mind reader although he seems pretty
adept anyway. “Something like that,” he says quietly.
“What do you study?” Harry asks with a glance in Louis’s direction
and a smirk. “What name can I secretly call you in my head?”
Louis would honestly be surprised if Harry doesn’t have a secretly
rude name for him already. “I’m going into my first year of law
school,” Louis says. “I did undergrad poli-sci at USC too.” “So
that’s why you’re bossy,” Harry muses, a slight smirk on his lips.

“Maybe,” Louis says, his lips twitching slightly. “Or it’s the herd of
little siblings I grew up with.
Someone has to be in control.”
They pause at the next mural, a retro advertisement for the

43
P.T.Barnum circus. Harry holds his camera up as he takes pictures,
somehow still managing to talk to Louis.
“Law is impressive,” Harry says. “I used to think I would be a
lawyer until I found art and I couldn’t stop myself. Law would have
been more realistic in the economy or, at least that’s what my dad
would say.”
“Does he not support you?” Louis asks, not intending to pry. He’s
been lucky in the way the chips fell when it comes to his family.
Except for his biological dad who fucked off before he was even
fully out of the womb, he’s been surrounded by a supportive base as
long as he can remember. Even if he said he was going to study
unicorns, his mom would have given him a supportive smile and
then bought him a book about unicorns to get started.
“My dad?” Harry takes his camera down from his face. “Between
him and my step dad, I probably get too much support. And then
just add my mom and my sister and we’re lucky my ego hasn’t run
off on its own yet.”

Louis raises his eyebrows at him but it hardly conceals his smirk.
“My dad is a lawyer, though,” Harry offers. “He would have loved
to have me walk in his footsteps.” He shrugs and turns off his
camera. “Would you mind stopping while I grab a sandwich? And
maybe look for hotels to stay in for the night?”
Louis goes for shocked as he gasps, “You mean you don’t have a
hotel already pre-booked and rolling out the red carpet for your
imminent arrival?”
Harry doesn’t even fluster at the comment. “Do you really want to
fight about this again?”

44
“Was that what happened earlier? It seemed to me like you
slammed the door in my face after blaming me for a bee sting.”
This time Harry does react visibly, his cheeks turning the lightest
shade of pink. “That wasn’t my most shining moment,” he says. “I
can admit that.”
Louis stares at him silently, wondering if he can get him to say
more like a nervous witness on the stand. It doesn’t happen. “I
wasn’t at my best either, to be fair,” Louis says. If Harry isn’t going
to apologize, he definitely won’t be the first one to either. “To circle
back to your question, though, I don’t mind if we stop for a
sandwich.” He gestures between them, “Lead the way.”
Somehow, they end up back at Pat’s Diner with a quick apology
from Harry for the fact Louis has already eaten there. “Trust me,
it's fine,” Louis says as they step inside. He still feels a bit guilty for
leaving Harry sitting on the sidewalk for an hour while he ate a
hamburger earlier. Only a bit, though.
The hostess doesn't recognize Louis and if the waitress does, she
doesn’t let on when she brings over two glasses of iced water. Louis
isn’t sure if he should be offended that he has such a forgettable
face, though he imagines in a tourist town everyone is somewhat
forgettable.
“How’s your neck?” Louis asks as Harry looks through the menu. It
still looks red but the hives have gone down considerably.
“Better,” Harry says, rubbing his hand over the spot impulsively.
“Luckily my throat didn’t swell shut or anything like that.”
Louis can’t help the little laugh that bubbles from his mouth. “Yeah,
luckily.” He flips his menu over to look at the drink selection. He’s

45
feeling like he might need a milkshake and he’s debating whether
he cares if Harry judges him for it.
“Do you have allergies that do cause your throat to swell up?”
Louis asks after a moment. “That might be important for me to
know as we’re stuck with each other for the next couple of weeks.”
Harry shakes his head without looking up from his menu. He’s
drawn his bottom lip between his teeth as he peruses and Louis is
trying his best not to notice.
“I do have an inhaler,” he says when he looks up. “But I haven’t
used it in years. My mom would flip if I didn’t carry it with me.”
Louis nods, “Good to know. Where do you keep it?” He lifts his
water glass and takes a sip. “You know, in case of emergency.”
Harry scratches his chin and closes his menu, evidently having
decided on what to order. “Side pocket of my duffel bag when I
travel,” he says. “In my sock drawer when I’m at school.”
“Your sock drawer?” Louis raises his eyebrows. “Not somewhere
normal like the medicine cabinet?”
Louis thinks Harry blushes but he rolls his eyes and covers it well.
“When I was younger, my mom always kept important stuff in her
sock drawer. Like, my sister’s and my baby teeth, the keys to our
safe, her dad’s dog tags from when he was in the military. It just
stuck, I guess.”
“Harry,” Louis says seriously, “Do you realize you’ve just given
me, an almost stranger, the exact location of the keys to your
family’s safe?”
Harry smiles, “It’s funny you think you’d find something valuable
in my family’s safe. Just because it’s locked doesn’t mean it’s
valuable.”

46
“Why lock it, then?” Louis asks, tilting his head to the side.

Harry shrugs, “Importance doesn’t always intersect with value.”

“What a fake deep thing to say,” Louis says out loud before he can
stop himself. Harry laughs though, so he doesn’t have to keep
adding to the list of things he’s said that should make him feel
guilty.
“It is a bit,” Harry says. He takes a sip from his water and draws his
fingers through the condensation on the side.
Louis glances down at the table and draws a line over a worn in
mark. “At least you’re self-aware.” He grins when Harry laughs
again.
“What about you?” Harry asks, the ghost of a smile still dancing on
his lips. “Do you have any allergies I should know about?”
Louis shakes his head, “Nah, I’m easy. I won’t be the one to cause
problems between here and Los Angeles.”
Harry narrows his eyes, the smile going away completely but before
he can say anything the waitress is at the edge of their table with a
notepad and an expression that reads like she’s not that excited to
be there. Harry orders a cheeseburger with fries and Louis takes the
leap to order an Oreo cookie milkshake. Harry doesn’t even bat an
eye at his choice.
“Why didn’t I ever seen you around campus?” Louis asks once the
waitress takes their menus and walks slowly, a glacial pace, really,
away from the table. Harry is going to be a junior which means
they’ve spent two years circling each other without actually
meeting.

47
“Big school,” Harry says, shrugging one shoulder. “Different
majors.” He taps his fingers against the side of his glass and almost
smiles. “To be fair, we had a biology class together when I was in
my first year.”

Louis blinks quickly and shakes his head, “What?”

Harry keeps tapping his fingers on his glass. “Yeah, it was a Marine
Biology class for Gen Ed. requirements and you were in it.
Thompson was the professor.”
Louis scrunches his nose, “It’s cute you think I would remember the
professor’s name. I do remember the class, though. Huge lecture,
yeah? A lot of talk about whale sperm?”
“Yep.” Harry pops the end of the word. “So technically we have
seen each other on campus.”
The entire lecture is a blur when Louis even tries to think of it -
most of his undergrad has gotten blurry with the passing terms. It’s
hard to remember every minor detail. “I guess,” Louis says. “I
never technically saw you though, for the record.”
“You were hard to miss,” Harry says. “Always talking in the back of
class or coming in late.” Louis narrows his eyes at Harry, “You
noticed quite a bit about me, did you?”
Harry’s lips twitch like he’s going to smile but he doesn’t. “I was a
freshman and I thought you were hot.” He tilts his head to the side,
“Then I thought you were annoying instead.”
Louis fish mouths as he tries to figure out whether to be flattered or
not. “Being hot and being annoying are not mutually exclusive,
Harry,” Louis says. “The beauty of the duality of man is we can be
both.”

48
“Clearly,” Harry says with a flick of his hand toward Louis.
Louis smiles slowly, “Is this your way of you saying you still think
I’m hot?”
Harry rolls his eyes and looks away though Louis is pretty sure it’s
because he’s been caught. Aesthetically speaking, Harry is some
kind of pretty and though Louis doesn’t want to have to say it out
loud, it doesn’t mean the thought hasn’t danced through his mind
since he first laid eyes on him. Pretentious, bratty, and pretty are not
mutually exclusive terms either.
“And annoying,” Harry says, pulling Louis’s attention again. “Don’t
forget that part.”
Louis can’t even respond before their food is being delivered to the
table, Louis’s milkshake dripping down the edges of the glass. It’s
probably best that way - he’s not sure he has a good enough
response and Harry’s smug smile is something Louis has never
seen.
*
The Quality Inn of Pontiac boasts of being a ‘straightforward hotel’
which is exactly what they get when they choose it off of a Google
location search after dinner. The prices are cheap so neither of them
complains as Harry parks near the front entrance and Louis goes
inside to ask for a room.
It’s not exactly late as they each take one of their bags from the
back of the Jeep to the second floor of the hotel but Louis feels
exhausted. The hangover is long gone but the thought of a bed and
a television have an extra jolt in his step as they navigate the
hallways.

49
The room is simple - straightforward as suggested - two beds about
three feet apart from each other with mustard yellow bedding, two
lamps and green walls. It’s gaudy but it splits to be just under thirty
dollars for each of them so Louis doesn’t complain.
“I’m going to shower,” Harry announces before they’ve even set
their bags down.
“Go ahead,” Louis allows though Harry definitely wasn’t asking for
permission. He claims the bed nearest the window and slips off his
tennis shoes as he roots through his bag for his phone charger. He
winds the cord back behind the nightstand and waits for the screen
to light up before he leaves it next to the lamp.
He lies back on the bed with his ankles crossed and flips through
the television channels, listening to the lulling sound of water from
Harry’s shower. He’s not sure that it’s weird to be sharing a room
with someone he just met but he thinks it’s a good sign that he
doesn’t feel nervous about it like Harry might murder him while he
sleeps or anything.
He’s just settled on an episode of Antique Roadshow he hasn’t seen
yet when the lock clicks on the bathroom door and Harry comes out
into the room. He only has a white towel around his waist and
Louis is well aware he stares for a moment too long before
redirecting his gaze back toward the television.
It’s just that Harry’s black and white Instagram picture didn’t really
do justice to his body in real life. Most notably, the butterfly on his
stomach and the ferns adorning his hips are gorgeous tattoos. Louis
stares at the drops of water running over his honeyed skin like one
of those commercials for body wash.
If Harry notices Louis’s watchful eye he doesn’t let on as he walks
to where he’s left his bag on the desk in the corner of the room. He

50
unzips it slowly and starts going through the contents while Louis
keeps catching glimpses of his towel sliding lower on his hips, the
muscles of his broad back sliding against each other whenever he
moves.
“I think I’ll shower too,” Louis manages when he realizes he’s
looking away slower and slower each time and his mouth has gone
slightly dry. Harry doesn’t respond to Louis’s announcement and
Louis doesn’t really wait for him to do so, just yanks his bag from
the bed and steps quickly into the bathroom, his heartbeat going too
fast for a platonic room sharing agreement between two strangers.
The water gets his mind off of Harry and his body for the time
being, the warmth seeping into his bones and making him close his
eyes as his muscles relax. He notices the hotel-issued body wash is
unopened and Harry has a small bottle of Warm Vanilla Sugar body
scrub sitting in the corner of the shower. Of course he does. Louis
opts for the hotel gel though it smells more like an Evergreen tree
than he is expecting and he has to use half the bottle to feel like it’s
actually covering his skin.
The bathroom is cold when he gets out of the shower and he tries to
dry himself with the towel quickly, hopping around from foot to
foot as he looks for a pair of sweats in his bag and something
warmer than a t-shirt. The towel doesn’t do a particularly absorbent
job of drying his body and his clothes stick to him as he wiggles
into them. He brushes his teeth while putting on a pair of socks,
more than ready to dive head first into his bed considering the air
conditioning must be on the fritz in their cheap accommodations for
the evening.
It’s even worse when he wedges the bathroom door open - he’s hit
with a blast of arctic air and the low thunder of the air conditioning
unit in the window.

51
“Holy fuck,” he says, as he turns out the light in the bathroom.
“Should we tell the front desk about the fact it feels like Antarctica
in here?”
Harry is sitting cross legged on his bed in a pair of black leggings
and a grey sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head. “I don’t
mind it,” he says. “I usually sleep warm.”
Louis pauses mid-step. “Wait, did you turn that on or did it turn on
by itself?”
“I turned it on,” Harry says. He lifts his chin like Louis is going to
challenge him about the fucking AC unit. Louis isn’t - though the
thought crosses his mind as he rolls his eyes and finishes making
his way to the bed. “Is that a problem?” Harry asks.
“Not a problem,” Louis says. He sets his bag on the dresser nearest
his bed and just about trips as he gets under the covers, pulling
them up to his shoulders quickly. “Your road trip and all.” He keeps
his gaze on the television but he swears he feels Harry glaring at
him.
“I changed the channel,” Harry says after a quiet moment. “I’d
already seen that episode.”
“What’d you change it to?” Louis asks, adjusting his legs under the
sheets.
“Animal Planet,” Harry says easily. “They’re having a Planet Earth
marathon.”
Louis stacks two pillows behind his back and laughs. “Great, that’ll
put me right to sleep.” This time he catches when Harry rolls his
eyes. He doesn’t say anything as his gaze drops to the laptop next to
Harry on the bed, a slim black cord connecting it to his camera.

52
“What are you working on?” He asks because he’s never claimed to
not be nosy.
Harry doesn’t look up when he answers. “Editing photos from
today.”
“We should have got one of your neck earlier, that would be a nice
keepsake.”
Harry snorts, “Documentation was the last thing on my mind,
honestly.”
“Me too,” Louis says. “I was more worried about you dying and
then I’d have to hide your body off the side of the highway.”
Harry looks over this time, a blank look on his face before he goes
back to his computer. “You’re so thoughtful,” he says.
“What are you doing with the photos?” Louis asks. “Boring people
on social media?”
“Wow, the compliments just roll off your tongue, don’t they?”
Harry shakes his head at his screen, his hand working quickly over
the track pad.
Louis smirks, “I’m kidding. I saw your Instagram already, I know
you have an aesthetic to keep up.
Thirty road trip pictures in a row probably won’t make the cut.”
“How’d you see my Instagram?” Harry asks, his hand pausing from
photo editing as he looks over.
“Niall,” Louis says. “As he was trying to convince me to go with
you on this road trip.”
“He didn’t offer to show me your Instagram as compensation,”
Harry says. “That could have been the make or break.”

53
“Break,” Louis says, “Definitely break. My Instagram isn’t nearly
as pretty as yours.” He saves himself from saying pretentious but
just barely.
“Good thing I didn’t see it, then,” Harry says. When he goes back to
his computer, he’s smiling.

“Seriously, though, what are you doing with them?” Louis asks.
Harry clicks around and then turns the screen toward Louis’s bed.
“The travel blog I told you about,” he says. “No one really follows
it but it’ll be good to keep track of where we go.” Harry scrolls a bit
and Louis sees pictures of the murals from this evening and the
prairie from earlier in the day.
Louis hums and looks back toward the television. They’re both
quiet for a bit after that and Louis slowly feels his eyes getting
heavier. Planet Earth is depicting an elephant migration and he’s
particularly charmed by the baby elephants bathing in one of the
lakes. His heart just about races through his chest when a pack of
lions nearly gets one of the babies and there’s a narrow escape.
“Fuck that was intense,” Harry says quietly from his perch on his
bed.
Louis jumps slightly, pulling his attention from the television. He’d
forgotten Harry was even next to him. “I know,” he says as the
show goes to a commercial.
He yawns into his hand and turns on his side as he slips into a
laying position. The room is still icy cold around him but something
about it is kind of refreshing as he burrows in the blankets. Louis
takes back his refreshing comment when he has to reach his hand
out of the covers to turn off the side lamp and shivers. Harry is
definitely a little bit crazy.

54
“Do I need to set an alarm?” Louis asks. He watches through heavy
eyes as Harry shuts his laptop and sets on the desk with his bag.

“I’ll set one,” he says.

Louis groans inwardly and says, “Okay,” verbally. He’d been
asking with the hope of Harry saying they wouldn’t be in a hurry in
the morning.
Harry shuffles around his own bed, pulling back the thick comforter
until it’s on the floor and then rolling the top edge of the blanket a
few inches back before he gets under the sheets. He tosses all of the
pillows onto the floor except for one that he inspects in the lamp
light carefully, both sides, before fluffing it and putting it under his
head. He pulls the sheet up to his shoulders but leaves the blanket
folded down so it covers his body but doesn’t touch his neck or
hands.
“What are you doing over there?” Louis asks as Harry is reaching to
turn out the light. He visibly startles, like he wasn’t expecting Louis
to be watching his every move. It’s a fair expectation though Louis
doesn’t really play fair.

“I don’t like touching hotel bedding.”

Louis blinks at him. “You’re literally in the bed.”

“They wash the sheets but they don’t always wash like, the blankets
and duvet.” Harry shrugs,
“Who knows what people have gotten up to in hotel rooms.”
Louis scrunches his nose and pokes his head out of his cocoon a bit
more. “I hadn’t really considered it, actually.”

Harry smiles slowly, “You’re welcome.”

55
Louis flips him off as he pulls the top blanket off of his body, his
skin feeling suspiciously itchy. “I can’t believe you’re trying to
freeze me out of the room and then make me reject all of the
blankets.”
Harry’s laugh is a snort and Louis rolls his eyes. “You can turn the
air conditioning down, if you want. I’m pretty comfortable now.”
“Of course I have to be the one to get out of bed and turn it off. Of
course I do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asks, genuine curiosity
lacing his voice.
“Nothing,” Louis mutters as he slips out of bed and over to the AC.
He turns the dial higher than it was and smiles when the machine
goes quiet. He gets back in bed with an overt awareness of the
bedding as he copies Harry’s method of making sure the sheet is the
only thing touching his exposed skin. He didn’t realize he’d become
germ phobic at twenty-three. This road trip is life changing already.
“Is the room up to your standards now, princess?” Louis asks as he
settles back under his covers and fluffs the pillows under his head.
He doesn’t get a response and when he lifts his head to get a better
look, he finds Harry’s face relaxed and his eyes closed; Already
asleep.
Louis rolls his eyes and then heaves himself out of bed to turn out
Harry’s lamp, covering the room in darkness.

*
Someone is choking. Louis can hear them and the panic races
through his chest, the broken gasps as he tries to catch his own
breath, tries to find who the victim is. His heart pounds, his lungs

56
convulse and then he’s staring at the ceiling of the Quality Inn,
sheets wrapped around him tightly and his dream fading quickly.
He swallows and blinks his eyes, disoriented in the dark room until
he hears the choking sound again, this time from the bed next to
him. He sits up quickly; panic resurfacing when he hears it again.
“Harry,” he says with his voice scratchy from sleep. “Harry, hey.”
The only response is another loud snuffle and Louis squints in the
darkness to try and see better. The curtains are shut tight, no
moonlight to lighten his view. “You okay?” He asks, leaning out of
his own bed to get closer to Harry.

Again, there’s no response.

“Are you snoring?” Louis asks loudly as the sound comes again,
more identifiable now that his heart isn’t racing. “Of course you
are,” he says, defeated, as he flops back down onto his pillow.
Harry makes another choked gasp and then it goes quiet for a
moment, a softer sound fluttering next as he smacks his lips in his
sleep. It would probably be endearing if quiet anger wasn’t
simmering in Louis’s sleepy mind.
He takes a few minutes of trying to sleep again before he realizes
it’s pointless. Now that he’s heard Harry snoring, he can’t ignore it.
He stacks his pillow on top of his head to block it out but starts to
get nervous he’s developing claustrophobia, not to mention he can
still fucking hear Harry.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers as he puts the pillow back where it
belongs and lies down. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus
on the pauses between each snore, the soothing silence. It definitely
doesn’t work.

57
Louis sits up and does the first thing he can think of - he chucks a
pillow from his bed toward Harry. His aim is off and it hits the
opposite wall before sliding to the ground. He curses under his
breath again. Thankful for hotel beds with too many pillows, he
takes a second one and heaves it in Harry’s direction. It meets the
mark this time as Harry’s choking snore cuts off with a yelp and the
distinct sound of someone thrashing around in the sheets.
Louis lays flat on his bed like it’s a game as he watches Harry sit up
and look around the room.
“Louis?” He asks into the dark but Louis stays quiet, focusing on
his breathing and staying frozen.
Harry gives up easily enough, getting out of bed and going to the
bathroom while Louis stays unmoving. As soon as he hears the door
of the bathroom shut, he rolls onto his stomach and pulls the sheet
up over his head. He squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself to fall
asleep quickly before
Harry gets back in bed. It’s quiet now but Louis knows snoring isn’t
cured by pillow fights and he’ll have to take advantage of the
momentary reprieve before Harry starts up again.

DAY TWO

Pontiac, Illinois
Harry’s alarm cuts through the morning like a whip and Louis
blinks blearily as the sound pulls him abruptly from sleep. The
room is barely lit up with the morning sun and still as cold as ever
since the air conditioning seems to have turned on at some point

58
overnight. Louis stretches in his bed and hauls the sheets up tighter
over his shoulders.
He watches as Harry rolls over in his bed and stretches his hand out
for his phone, turning off the alarm, and then flopping onto his
back. “Was I dreaming or did you actually try to smother me with a
pillow last night?”
Louis laughs at Harry’s dead pan voice. “You were snoring,” he
says like an explanation.
“So you just tried to kill me?” Harry asks, his voice incredulous. He
seems to be in a perky mood for an early morning as he looks over
at Louis. His hair is all messed up and he has a crease from the
pillow on his cheek.
Louis laughs again as he sits up in bed. He scratches the side of his
jaw and twists his neck to stretch it. “If that’s what you want to
believe, go for it.” He glances at Harry in time to see him smiling to
himself as he looks at something on his phone.
“When Niall asked me if I wanted you to come along, the one
question I asked was if you were a murderer.”
“You mean he didn’t tell you?” Louis smirks as he stands up,
heading directly for the air conditioning to turn it off once and for
all.
Harry pushes the sheets off of him with his long legs and then sits
up, running his hands over his face. “I don’t usually snore,” he says.
“How in the world would you know that?” Louis raises his
eyebrows as he waits for Harry’s answer but all he gets is a
sheepish smile.

59
“No one has mentioned it before,” Harry says. He gets out of bed
and stretches before ambling over to his bag and hauling it onto the
bed to pick out his outfit.
“You’ve got to get better friends,” Louis says. He unzips his bag
and pulls out a pair of black jeans and a red crew neck jumper. He’s
not planning to make any grand fashion statements in Southern
Illinois.

“Is that what we are?” Harry muses without looking up, “Friends?”
“After the snoring, the air conditioning and the bed cover
rearranging last night?” Louis grabs socks out of his bag and tosses
them with the rest of his clothes. “If you’re trying to get rid of me,
you’re doing a great job.”

Harry doesn’t do a very good job of hiding his smile in his bag.

*
“Where are we going?” Louis puts his feet on the dashboard of the
car, tossing a handful of Froot
Loops in his mouth. He couldn’t help stopping at the breakfast
buffet as they were checking out.
Harry joined him, grabbing an apple and a cup of coffee, as Louis
opted for sugary cereal.
“Funks Grove,” Harry says. He leans over to swat at Louis’s feet
but Louis fends him off with his knee and leaves his feet where they
are. “There’s a little family there who makes maple syrup.”

Louis looks over the itinerary in his lap. “You spelled syrup
wrong.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, it’s right. They spell it like that.”

60
“With an ‘i’ instead of a ‘y’ ?” Louis stares at the word - sirup -
and scrunches his nose. “It doesn’t look right.”
“You can fight with them about it when we get there,” Harry says.
“But in the meantime, can you program a radio station that doesn’t
sound like a swarm of bees?”
To be fair, Louis had been more focused on his cereal than the radio
but now that he focuses he can hear the buzzing of the lost signal.
“You mean you don’t like this?” Louis smirks as he reaches for the
radio. He scrolls through the stations twice but nothing comes up
other than a man speaking in a low monotone that he and Harry
both veto at the same time.
“I’ll just plug in my phone,” Louis says, reaching for it in the cup
holder. “If you trust me as DJ, that is.”

Harry blows a steady stream of air out his lips. “That’s a big task.”
“Should I tell you now that my favorite music is spoken word
folk?”

Harry’s lips twitch, “Ironically, that’s my favorite as well.”

“Twins,” Louis says like he means it before connecting the aux cord
to his phone and setting his music to shuffle. “Rhiannon” is the first
track to play and Harry actually grins as they ease onto the highway
55.
They follow the 55 through more open fields of corn and curve past
a town every once in a while before taking an exit onto the Historic
Route 66. Louis is appalled they haven’t been on Route 66 the
entire time and Harry has to explain that the entire route doesn’t
exist intact anymore.

61
“There are certain parts you can still drive down,” he says as they
pull onto the historic portion proudly announced with no less than
five signs.
“I feel like there may have been some false advertising involved in
this trip,” Louis says. He pulls up on the edge of his sock where it’s
stuck in his shoe.
“The advertisement was a one way ticket to LA,” Harry says.
“Anything beyond that is just an adventure.”
Louis whistles, “Wow, are you going to make us matching shirts
with that slogan?” Harry rolls his eyes but Louis catches his smirk.
Historic Route 66 is about as exciting as Highway 55 with
cornfields and the odd cow every once in awhile. The music keeps
things semi-interesting through the barren landscape especially
when Louis catches Harry softly humming to some of the songs. He
plays drums on the steering wheel through the entirety of two
Rolling Stones songs and then raps Left Eye’s part of “Chasing
Waterfalls” under his breath. Louis starts laughing when he finishes
and Harry actually blushes like he didn’t think Louis would notice.
It turns out, Harry is just about the only thing worth paying
attention to on the open roads of Southern Illinois.
Louis takes that comment back when he sees a yellow billboard that
reads BEER NUTS in obnoxious bolded print.

“Beer Nuts,” he reads out loud as they pass. “What’s that?”

Harry shrugs as Ed Sheeran comes over the speakers. “Nuts that
taste like beer.”
Louis tilts his head back and forth, considering. “Could be
interesting.” The words are barely out of his mouth when they pass
the next billboard that reads the same as the first but with

62
FACTORY underneath. Just as quick, a third sign appears with
directions to get off the highway at Towanda Avenue
“Harry,” Louis says as they zoom past another sign advertising free
samples. “We have to go to the Beer Nut factory.”

Harry doesn’t even miss a beat, “No, we don’t.”

“Yeah we do,” Louis says, sitting up straighter in his seat to look for
Towanda Avenue. “That’s like, a once in a lifetime opportunity.”
“It’s a nut that tastes like beer, Louis.” Harry glances over at him,
“I’ll live without it.”
“I won’t,” Louis says. “And it’s the factory where they make them
which is even better. We can go on like, a tour probably.”

“No.”
Louis turns in his seat, “Are you that attached to your little itinerary
you can’t even go to the Beer Nut factory? It’s probably a ten
minute detour and then we can be on the straight and narrow to get
your syrup with an ‘i’ and whatever else you decide to bore me with
today.”
“God, you’re annoying,” Harry says, cutting off the end of Louis’s
argument. To be fair, it isn’t his best argumentative work
considering he doesn’t usually try to insult his opponent as much
use facts against them.
“Take me to the Beer Nut factory and I’ll go along with all your
other plans for the day.”
Harry looks at him out of the corner of his eye but keeps driving
straight ahead. Louis catches the sign indicating less than a mile to
Towanda Avenue out of the window of the Jeep. “Come on Harry,”

63
he says. “Just do something fun for once, yeah? You can impress all
your friends by saying you’ve had a beer nut.”
Harry shakes his head. “You think eating a beer nut is impressive?
You need to realign your priorities.”
Louis crosses his arms, “If you want to live life between the lines
and never do anything semiinteresting, that’s up to you.”
Harry takes a deep breath and Louis is pretty sure he’s really offended
him now. He sees the exit to Towanda Avenue overhead and then
expects to see it pass. When the car jerks to the side and off the main
highway to the exit, Louis’s mouth actually drops open. It looks like
they’re going to the Beer Nut factory.
“I knew you had it in you,” he says smugly, keeping his arms
crossed.
“This isn’t for you,” Harry says, clearing his throat. “I’m doing this
for me.”
Louis presses his lips together and looks out the window, pretty sure
Harry is lying to him.

*
The Beer Nut Factory of Bloomington, Illinois does not warrant
three giant billboards on the side of the highway. They don’t offer
tours of the factory only an in-store video, the free sample is four
nuts in a cup, and nothing tastes like beer. In fact, the nuts are sticky
and sweet and get stuck to Louis’s teeth.
“Wow, I’m really glad we stopped,” Harry deadpans as they leave
the store, barely ten minutes after they first arrived. “I’ve always
wanted to see a manufacturing factory via video.”

64
“Personally, I had a blast,” Louis says, still trying to get one part of
a nut off his back molar.

“I underestimated your idea of fun.”

“It’s called adventurous,” Louis says as he slides back in the
passenger seat.
“It’s called annoying,” Harry says back just as easily as he puts the
key in the ignition.
“You need some new adjectives.” Louis puts his feet on the
dashboard and smiles sweetly when
Harry glares. “All you do is call me annoying.”
“I’ll work on it,” he says with an eye roll, reversing the Jeep out of
the nearly empty Beer Nut Factory parking lot. Louis plugs his
phone back into the stereo and settles into his seat. It wasn’t
anywhere close to being fun but he’ll take all the credit for messing
up Harry’s itinerary again - it’s quickly becoming his favorite
activity.

*
Funk’s Grove, home of syrup spelled incorrectly, is a pretty little
oasis off the highway. The maple trees seem to go for miles on
either side of them as Harry drives down the center lane of the
farm, a car behind them and one a little further in front. The leaves
are just starting to change and there are workers walking between
all of the trees with scissors and buckets - doing syrup-related
activities as far as Louis can tell.
“We won’t actually get to see the syrup being made,” Harry says as
they steer into a parking area outside of a barn. There are more cars

65
here than the Beer Nut Factory, that’s for sure. “The sap only runs
in the late winter and the beginning of spring.”
Louis clicks his tongue, “You mean, we’re wasting precious time on
something we can’t even see? A manufacturing factory via video
again?” Harry gets out of the car without responding and Louis
grins into the silence.
There’s a tour group gathering near the barn and though Louis hates
tour groups, Harry jumps right in and Louis is forced to follow. It’s
not like he can go wander the forest alone; or, make it back out
alive if he did. Wilderness studies were never his strong suit in
elementary school.
“Do you think we get to taste it?” Louis asks Harry. “My Froot
Loops and four Beer Nuts aren’t holding me over.”
“Really?” Harry glances over. “They were both such nutritious
options.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Mom? Is that you?”

Harry looks like he wants to lunge at him but a weary glance from
the older couple next to them melts his glare into a soft smile
toward them. Louis would bet quite a bit of money, Harry will
never direct that smile at him.
A moment later, the group is greeted by the Funk Family who,
Louis would assume, owns all of Funk’s Grove and the trees
surrounding them. The husband and wife, Luke and Lisa, start to
give an overview of the farm and how their process works while a
handful of small kids run around their feet, laughing and shouting
over each other.
Louis can’t help smiling down at them as they shriek, the facts of
the farm fading into muted background noise. One of the little girls

66
with braids in her hair catches him watching and smiles, showing a
couple of missing teeth. Louis’s eyes go wide as he points to his
own mouth and she smiles impossibly wider before running along
with the rest of the group. Louis looks back up in time to see Harry
watching him but Louis doesn’t meet his eyes. He’s really not up to
being scolded again.
“I apologize the sap isn’t running for you,” Lisa says with a wry
smile to the group.
“Unfortunately, we don’t control nature around here.” There’s a
stilted laugh through the group and Louis sighs. He hates tour
groups.
“Feel free to look around and poke your head in wherever,” Luke
says as he gestures around the farm. “If you get lost, I can’t promise
we’ll find you before the snow comes in the winter so be aware of
your surroundings.”
The group starts to disperse slowly, most of the people heading
toward the sign over the main house that says ‘Free Samples’.
Louis hopes he and Harry won’t be far behind them but of course
Harry says he’s forgotten his camera and abandons Louis to go back
to the car to get it.
Louis doesn’t plan to go far when Harry is gone but the little girl
from earlier seems to be waiting for the moment he’s alone to go up
and grab his hand, tugging slightly.
“Am I supposed to follow you?” He asks as she starts walking
away, her strength not quite enough to pull Louis along.
“I show you the rabbits,” she says determinedly, her steps slowing
at Louis’s resistance. Lucky for her, he happens to be easy for kids
that remind him of his sisters so he follows after her, glancing back
over his shoulder to see if Harry has noticed. Harry is just standing

67
up from the Jeep when Louis catches his eye, confusion playing
over his features. Louis holds up a finger to tell him to wait before
focusing back on the chubby fingers holding his.
“What’s your name?” Louis asks as they curve around the barn to
where there is higher grass growing.
“Elsa,” she says with a sly smile that makes Louis think that’s not
her name at all.

“Like from Frozen?” He asks dubiously.

She grins, clearly happy with his recognition as she nods. She stops
abruptly before Louis can add much else and points the ground.
“Baby rabbits.”
Louis leans over to see over the grass at the edge of the barn, not
exactly sure what he’s going to be seeing. Sure enough, there is a
fluffy brown ball that, on further inspection, is actually a bunch of
baby rabbits sleeping close together.
“Oh wow,” he says as he crouches to get closer. The little girl -
possibly Elsa but probably not crouches with him, smiling again.

“They’re sleeping.”
“They are,” Louis says. “So we have to be quiet, huh?” She nods
enthusiastically putting one finger over her lips. “Do you think
they’re having good dreams?”
“Yes,” she says and she’s so sure of herself it makes something in
Louis’s heart lurch. He loves his younger siblings for the fact
they’re his own blood but for the way they’re like Elsa too - so sure
of a happy ending because no one has yet to tell them otherwise.

“What are they dreaming about?”

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Louis nearly falls face first into the barn at Harry’s voice but
catches himself with a hand out at the last minute. Harry is standing
closer to the corner of the barn, his eyes on Elsa.

“Maybe flowers,” she says with a shrug.

Harry nods knowingly, “Maybe they’re dreaming about what their
mom is going to make them for dinner.”
“Bunnies don’t cook,” she says with a fluttery laugh. They probably
don’t dream either but Louis won’t be the one to say.
“They don’t?” Harry plays shocked well and Louis finds himself
smiling.

“No, silly,” Elsa says with a wide grin.

“Julia, will you come over here?”

Harry and Louis look over to where Lisa is standing and calling for
her daughter. Louis and Harry both lift their hands in a wave at the
same time as Julia/Elsa looks up at Louis, alarmed.

“My real name is Elsa,” she says, eyes wide.

“I know,” Louis says. “Julia is your code name, probably.” His
knees are starting to ache from his position so he stands up, dusting
his palms on the thighs of his jeans.
Julia seems thrilled at Louis’s new addition to her game and runs
away giggling, her mom smiling when she catches her and pulls her
up into her arms.
Harry comes over to where Louis had been and peeks over to the
sleeping bunny pile.

“You think they’ll be okay?” Louis asks, glancing around.

69
“There are two rabbits in the bushes behind you,” Harry says, still
looking at the babies. “I’m guessing they’re the parents or
irresponsible babysitters.”
Louis glances behind them to the bushes but doesn’t see any other
rabbits. He’ll take Harry’s word for it. “Were you a Boy Scout?” Louis
asks as Harry takes a picture of the sleeping rabbits, the quiet click
seeming too loud.
“No,” Harry says, laughing as he lets go of his camera so it hangs
around his neck. “I just notice more things than you do.”
“That’s debatable,” Louis says as they walk away from the sleeping
bunny nest. “Did you notice they’re giving out free samples up at
the house?”
“Of course I did,” Harry scoffs. “Don’t underestimate me, Louis.”
“My bad,” Louis says with his hands up, half-smiling.
The main house is red with white shutters and colorful Adirondack
chairs along the side, a wraparound porch leading inside. Harry
takes pictures as they approach, twisting and turning to get the best
angle of whatever he’s shooting. Louis leaves him to it and goes
inside the front screen door. The house has been converted to a little
shop inside with bottles of syrup in every size, maple leaf candy
and Shrunk Family apparel stretching end to end on one wall.
It’s overwhelming but Louis spots the sample area easily and grabs
two of the small paper cups for him and Harry. They should
probably taste the stuff before he goes buying a five gallon bottle of
it.
“I got you a shot,” Louis says as he holds out Harry’s cup. “Of pure
sugar.”

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Harry slips the lens cover back on his camera and takes the cup in
his hand. He twists it around inspecting it, clearly unsure what to do
with it. “Do we drink it?”

Louis scrunches his nose. “I didn’t really think to ask, actually.”

He watches as Harry brings the cup up to his nose, sniffs, and then
sticks his tongue out like a cat to taste it. Louis laughs when he does
it again, thinking Harry may just be an oversized feline as it is.

“Is it good?” He asks.

“It actually is,” Harry says with another lick. “It makes me want a
waffle.”
Louis sticks his finger in the syrup and then licks it off. “Definitely
makes me want a waffle,” he agrees.
“Is this all they sell in there?” Harry asks, his tongue still swirling
around the edge of the cup. It’s a bit erotic, honestly.

“They have bottles of it and candy made out of it.”

“No waffles?”

“Sadly, no.”

Harry pushes his lips forward, “That’s disappointing.”

“As disappointing as the Beer Nut Factory?” Louis asks with a
smirk.

“No, that one is in a class all its own.”

They don’t end up buying anything at the little store though Harry
does go poke his head in just to see what it looks like. The farm is
pretty serene as they walk back toward the car, quietness seeping

71
slowly even though people are milling about and touching the
closest maple trees. It would be a nice place to live, Louis thinks.
Not that he’d want to have to make syrup for the rest of his life,
though. That doesn’t sound all that pleasant considering his hands
are already sticky from his one cup of it.
The Funk Family seems to have thought of everything, though, as
they stumble across a garbage can adhered to a wooden pole with a
hand sanitizer dispenser. They both toss their cups and wash their
hands the best they can. Harry does his twice and Louis suspects it
has something to do with the expensive camera strapped to his
chest.
There’s a wall of signs near the parking lot and Louis stops
automatically, already knowing Harry will want to take a picture.
“Did you realize we’re halfway done with Illinois?” Louis asks,
staring up at the sign. He can’t say he knows much at all about
where they’re going or where they are on the map. “Yeah,” Harry
says, “That’s why this was on my list to stop. It’s the halfway mark.”
“And here I thought you just had a sweet tooth,” Louis says,
smirking.
Harry continues taking a few more shots of the signs, tilting the
camera just right. “No but we’re lucky I have teeth after the beer
nuts. There’ll be remnants of those on my back molars when I die,
probably.”
“Probably,” Louis agrees considering he hasn’t fully gotten all the
bits off his teeth either.
“Do you want to be in a picture?” Louis asks. “Or do you only want
boring pictures of signs?”
“Hey,” Harry drawls, “Don’t hate on my artistic perspective.”

72
“Artistic perspective,” Louis repeats like a foreign language.
“You’re insufferable.”
Harry grins at him. “I’m really not. You just happen to bring out the
best in me.”
“Figures.” Louis reaches for the camera, “Go stand by the sign
and I’ll take your picture.” Harry steps back, his hands going to
the sides of his camera like an automatic reaction.
“I know it’s an expensive camera,” Louis says. “And I’m sure
you’ll hang me by eyelids if I break it.” Harry winces at the graphic
description and Louis smiles. “Let me take your picture, H.”
The nickname - just one letter instead of five - slips before Louis
can stop it but Harry doesn’t seem to notice. He hands over the
camera slowly, and doesn’t let go until Louis is holding it with both
hands.
“You’ll be a great dad someday,” Louis notes. “As long as you treat
your kids like this fucking camera.” Harry huffs a laugh, running
his fingers back through his hair. “Oh wait, you forgot the camera
in the car this morning. Never mind.”
Harry flips him off as he takes a few steps backward to be closer to
all of the Funk’s Grove and Route 66 signs. “I didn’t know if there
would be anything worth taking pictures of.”
“I wouldn’t go as far as to say taking a picture of you is worth it but
whatever helps you sleep at night.” Louis grins at Harry’s offended
face and snaps a picture for safekeeping.
Louis tries to take his momentary photographer job seriously as he
holds the camera up and looks through the viewfinder, adjusting his
own spacing to get Harry fully in the shot. There was something

73
about thirds in his introductory photography class when he was
seventeen and though he’s not sure what it means, he’s pretty sure
Harry should be on the edge of the frame. “Move to the right,” he
instructs.
Harry follows easily, taking a step and then backing up again.
“Good?”

“Yep,” Louis says, “Now just smile.”

Harry’s smile isn’t there - or, it is, but it’s one Louis hasn’t seen
before. He doesn’t show his teeth and the corner of his lips barely
turn up.

“Oh god,” he says, “This isn’t your mugshot, Harry.”

The comment actually makes Harry laugh and Louis clicks the
shutter button again, hoping he catches it. Like a smack upside his
memory, the picture of Harry in the collar comes back into his
mind. He wonders who took that picture - if it was someone Harry
was dating or a photographer, how they got him to make the face he
did, his head tilted back slightly.
“Photoshoot is over,” Harry announces perhaps nervous by the way
Louis has frozen with the camera against his face. Louis watches
through the viewfinder as Harry comes closer and then jolts when
real-life Harry takes the camera from his grip.
“They turn out okay?” Louis asks as Harry reviews with the screen
on the back. His mouth is dry as it tends to get whenever he thinks
about Harry’s BDSM Instagram photo. In the past twenty-four
hours he’s thought about it far too much to be normal, probably.

“I’m a natural model,” Harry says seriously, “So, yeah.”

74
“If they end up in GQ, I’ll need photography credit,” Louis says as
he starts to walk back toward the Jeep. It only takes a moment for
him to realize Harry hasn’t followed.

“What?” He asks, turning back around.

“Do you want your photo taken?” Harry tilts his head toward the
sign.
Louis shakes his head, never a fan of photos and particularly not on
a farm. “No,” he says. “Now if you would have thought of this at
the Beer Nut Factory, it might be a different story.” He catches
Harry’s smile before he leads the way back to the Jeep.

*
“You realize I can drive, right?” Louis asks once they’re back on
the route and Harry is yawning into his hand. “You don’t just have
to be drugged out of your mind to get a break.”
“I don’t mind it,” Harry says over another yawn and Louis gives
him a judging look. “I’m serious. I should have had more coffee
this morning is all.”
“You mean that brown water from the Quality Inn?” Louis raises
his eyebrows, “I’m not sure that had caffeine in it.” “I’ll get
something at lunch,” Harry says.
“When’s lunch?” Louis feels like a petulant child on a class field
trip but Froot Loops, beer nuts and a sip of syrup will only get him
so far. He does have some breakfast bars he stole from the Quality
Inn but he’d like to save those for a desperate situation.

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“We’re going to lunch right now,” Harry says. “It’s the birthplace of
the corn dog.” Louis stares at the side of Harry’s head and Harry
must be able to feel it because he smiles slowly. “What’s wrong
with that?” He asks as he looks over.
“Nothing,” Louis says innocently. “Just another fascinating stop on
Harry’s Wild Adventure.”
“Like you have a better idea,” Harry says incredulously. “You made
us go to a place that handed out nuts like they were golden
nuggets.”
“It was an adventure,” Louis says, echoing the same sentiment as
earlier. “And look, it’s given us a point of conversation at least ten
times now.” “Amazing,” Harry says stoically.

“What’s after the corn dogs?”

Harry smirks and taps his palms on the steering wheel. “We’re
going to a historic park where there’s also the world’s largest catsup
bottle.”

“Catsup?” Louis says loudly, “You mean ketchup, right?”

Harry looks over with a grin far too pretty for the teasing in his
eyes. “All of the websites say catsup.”
“Between this and syrup spelled with an ‘i’, I’m going to change
my major to English and become a teacher just so the youth aren’t
corrupted forever.”
“Or you keep going with your law degree and sue the family owned
syrup farm and the state’s treasured historic site for corrupting the
youth and then roll around in your millions.”

76
Louis shakes his head and puts his feet on the dashboard. “Wow, I
didn’t realize we had a comedian in the car with us.” Harry’s laugh
is ridiculously dorky and Louis rolls his eyes to cover how much he
likes the sound of it.
“Can you check how far away the catsup bottle is from the corndog
place?” Harry asks, still smiling. “I might have you drive that one if
it’s far.”
“Sure, I’ll check how far the ketchup bottle is,” Louis says,
emphasizing ketchup and making Harry laugh again. He pulls out
the itinerary journal and thumbs through to the right page. “Wait,
are you admitting you don’t have the entire trip memorized?”
Harry glances over and shakes his head. “Not the distances
between, just the actual places.”
“What are we doing tomorrow then?” He runs his finger down the
itinerary to DAY 3 to check Harry’s work - he’d make a great
teacher, he thinks.

“Six Flags.”
“Harry,” Louis says, his finger pausing at Six Flags, “Why is there a
question mark next to Six Flags?”

Harry shrugs a shoulder, “I wasn’t sure if I would feel like it.”

“Oh, you’re going to feel like it,” Louis says, putting his finger over
the question mark so it disappears. “After a giant ketchup bottle and
a fucking corn dog, you’re going to love Six Flags.”
He can’t help the excitement in his voice, the twelve-year-old
trapped inside of his heart suddenly punching and kicking to be set
free. Finally, there’s a bright spot in the darkness though he can’t

77
believe his missed it in his rundown of places the day before. This
is definitely a big one.

“Maybe,” Harry says. “We’ll see.”

Louis turns to gape at him when he notices Harry’s hands are tight
on the wheel, his knuckles white and jaw clenched. Louis doesn’t
think he’s said anything particularly harmful but he can’t exactly be
sure so he waits a quiet moment to see if Harry offers more.
Nothing comes and Louis lets it drop - he’s sure whatever it is will
resurface again - either as a slammed car door or a sulky pout.
Louis is learning Harry’s tells already.
“It’s about two hours from the corndogs to the ketchup bottle,” he
says, answering the original question and closing the journal. “I’ll
drive it and you can take a nap.”
Harry nods but his hands are still tight on the steering wheel. Louis
thinks he’ll wait it out this time - let Harry tell him when he feels
like it. Or, at least he’ll try to wait.

“Oh, a grilled cheese sandwich sounds good.”

“You’re kidding.”

“What? It does.”
Louis turns to Harry and crosses his arms as the line of people in
front of them moves forward slightly. “You are not getting a grilled
cheese at the world famous corn dog place.”
“First of all, you can’t control me,” Harry says crossing his arms to
match Louis. “Second, I didn’t say I was getting one. I said it
sounds good.”

78
“I’m not controlling you,” Louis says with an eye roll.
It earns them both a look from the parents of the family in front of
them. Simultaneously, Harry and Louis paste on smiles until the
couple looks away.
The Cozy Dog Drive In is loaded with people, which should be
expected for an end of summer day around lunch but Louis is
hungry and his patience is wearing thin. The restaurant is gaudier
than Louis had imagined a roadside diner could be - all the way
from the larger than life hotdogs embracing on the sign out front to
the bright blue checkered linoleum floors and Route 66 plaques
adhered to every visible wall. The food smells good at least so he’s
kept his complaining minimal until Harry’s grilled cheese comment
at least.
They both order standard corn dogs with fries though Harry adds on
onion rings and potato salad in rapid-fire fashion like he can’t help
himself.
“Are you going to order the entire menu?” Louis asks as he offers
his credit card to the cashier. Harry promised he’ll get their next
meal - not that Louis is really keeping track. Nothing, it seems, has
been very expensive thus far.
“Sorry,” Harry says, somewhat sheepishly. The cashier takes the card
and swipes it before handing over a numbered plaque and their
receipt. “I was excited looking at all the food.” He gestures at the
menu.
“And yet you didn’t get the grilled cheese,” Louis muses as they
walk away to find a table.

79
“I didn’t want to get yelled at,” Harry says. He points to a booth in
the corner and they both head for it, spinning around kids and their
flustered parents to get there.
“I wouldn’t yell,” Louis says. “I would just publicly shame you in
front of all these people.”
Harry shakes his head, eyes wide. “How in the sweet hell are you
best friends with Niall Horan?”
Louis grins at that. It’s not the first time he’s been asked especially
considering how different he and Niall come across to everyone
else. “We met when we were kids and before he knew better,”
Louis says. Harry raises an eyebrow and Louis laughs. “Seriously,
though. Haven’t you heard that opposites attract? He was always
the nice one and I was the troublemaker and then we wore off on
each other a little bit.” Louis shrugs, “I don’t know how else to
explain it, really.”
“Opposites attract is an understatement,” Harry says wryly but
there’s no venom in his voice.
Louis flips their numbered placard between his fingers and Harry
snatches it from him to set on the end of the table. “How did you
become friends with Niall, then? You don’t seem all that opposite.”
“I think we’re opposite in a different way than you and him are.
Like, I’m pretty quiet around people I don’t know.”
Louis hums and nods. So far Harry has been pretty vocal with him
but perhaps that’s what happens when you shove two people in a
car and send them off on a road trip. “So it’s harder for me to make
friends in big groups, I guess.”

80
“And Niall makes friends with everyone who so much as looks at
him.”
Harry smirks, “Exactly. He’s the kind of guy I usually avoid
because he likes ice breaker games and actually follows up when he
says he wants to get a coffee.” Louis laughs and scrunches his nose.
That sounds about right.

“The first day of our internship, he introduced himself to everyone

personally and then never left my side. I think he could tell I was
shy but thought I was worth getting to know anyway.”
“I’m sure he did,” Louis says. “He doesn’t make friends with just
anyone, you know.” He remembers what Niall first said about
Harry - his quiet personality and tough shell. Louis is pretty sure
he’s getting to see both of those firsthand.
Harry smirks and lifts a shoulder. “Guess I’m one of the lucky
ones.”
Louis actually smiles and feels like he needs to text Niall to
congratulate him on being such a good human. If Louis had met
Harry and he was shy - he would have moved right along. It’s
probably better fate thrust them together this way instead,
friendship by force. Or something like that.
When their number is called, Harry goes up to the counter for their
order and brings back a tray heaping with food. Louis has never
been one for a detox but something about the first two days of the
trip already have him feeling like he’ll need one.
The corn dogs aren’t special in the least – and actually taste the
same way the corn dogs at the State Fair tasted when Louis was
seven. Harry tries to hesitate but then reluctantly agrees. The potato

81
salad and onion rings are both above average which makes Harry
smiles pleasantly when Louis tells him - like he’s the one who
cooked them or something.
“They sell merchandise?” Harry asks when they’re nearly done
eating. He grabs an advertisement sitting inconspicuously at the
back edge of their table. Louis is sure there have been countless
kids to grab the paper tent and shake it at their parents. Granted,
Harry is twenty-one and waving the flier toward Louis but the point
stands.
“I guess,” Louis says, batting the paper away. “If you really want to
remember a below-average corndog for the rest of your life.”
Harry’s loud cackle cuts him off as he pushes the page toward Louis
again. There are images of shirts and sweatshirts, key chains and
water bottles in different colors but Louis’s eyes fall to where
Harry’s pointing. A yellow shirt that says, “I like my wieners cozy.”
“Is that a play on circumcision?” Louis asks, grabbing the flier to
look even closer.
Another laugh bubbles from Harry’s lips, his eyes shining. “I don’t
know but I definitely want one.”
“You didn’t buy maple syrup at the syrup farm but you want a
raunchy t-shirt from the corndog place?”

Harry smiles, “Maybe I do. I’m going up front to look around.”

Louis shakes his head as he watches Harry make his way over to
the front counter, all of the merchandise pinned up behind the
cashier - he’s not sure how they missed it before. He studies Harry
for a moment more, the way he smiles at the girl behind the desk
and leans forward on his elbows as they talk, the way she blushes
when she laughs. Louis rolls his eyes and goes back to his last

82
onion ring. Harry may be shy but he’s certainly charming - the
worst part being Louis isn’t sure he even realizes he’s doing it.
He’s just stacking their empty paper trays together when Harry
comes back with a smug smile and his hands behind his back.
“What’d you do?” Louis asks, leaning to the side to try and see
around Harry’s back.
Harry’s smug smile turns to a grin as he holds up his hand and a key
chain hanging from his finger. It looks like the I Love NY t-shirts
from every clichéd tourist shop except instead of a city it says
wieners and Louis laughs so hard he almost snorts.
“Don’t be jealous,” Harry says sitting back down in the booth. “I’ll
put it on my keys so we can both use it.”
“What a gentleman,” Louis says airily, his smile stuck on his lips
even when he presses his mouth together.

*
“I think I would be happier if I’d gotten the grilled cheese,” Harry
says once they’ve cleared their table and head back outside, the new
keychain secure on the Jeep keys.
“You’re going to hold that over my head for the rest of this trip,
aren’t you?”

“Between that and the beer nuts?” Harry smirks, “Of course I am.”
Louis rolls his eyes and holds out his hand, “Throw me the keys.”
Harry takes him literally and tosses his key ring right at Louis’s
face. He misses catching it completely and then has to run in the
path of a car to pick it back up. Harry is laughing when he unlocks
the door and Louis flips him off.

83
Louis puts the address of the next stop on his phone and catches
Harry dusting off the dashboard with his hands where Louis’s feet
have been all day. Finally he leans back in his seat and stays still.
When he sees Louis has been watching him looks out the opposite
window defiantly.
“Giant ketchup bottle, here we come,” Louis announces as he steers
the Jeep around yet another family heading for the front doors of
Cozy Dog.
“Unless you just drive right past it,” Harry says, still looking at the
passenger window.

“Watch it or I just might.”

“You wouldn’t,” Harry says, twisting to look at Louis very
seriously.
Louis doesn’t feel like he should keep tempting fate by poking at
Harry so he just laughs without saying anything else. It seems to
pacify Harry as an answer because he doesn’t respond.

*
The highway is bracketed by green as Louis drives the next two
hours, the leaves of the trees starting to nearly shimmer with their
last breath before they turn to brown. Louis’s favorite season of the
year is fall though they don’t necessarily get one in Southern
California. He’ll take what he can get in Illinois - anything beats the
endless corn from before.
Harry falls asleep before they’re halfway there, his head tucked
against the window and arms hugged around his body. Louis turns
down the car stereo at one point to see if he’s snoring but it stays
quiet. He half wants to blast some sort of rap song or EDM to see if
he can rouse Harry into alarming wakefulness but he restrains

84
himself. So far, he’s not completely sure that Harry understands his
brand of humor and being trapped in a car isn’t the best way to start
to figure it out.
Louis gets lost twice once he turns off the freeway, taking the
wrong turn and ending up in someone’s driveway and then passing
the turn into the park completely which he marks with a very loud,
“Motherfucker,” which manages to rouse Harry from his sleep.
It’s just perfect timing that he happens to catch Louis in the middle
of a U-Turn and probably assumes Louis is trying to mess with him
again. Ironic, of course, because Louis is actually trying to prove
he’s a trustworthy travel companion. He doesn’t want to be
sentenced to the passenger seat for the next two weeks.
“Louis,” he says, careful and measured, as he sits up. “What are you
doing?”
“I missed the turn,” Louis explains as a car honks at him for veering
into the wrong lane during his
U-Turn. He flips them off as Harry rubs his eyes. “I swear it wasn’t
on purpose.”
“Okay,” Harry says and Louis can’t tell if he believes him or not.
He doesn’t really have time to dwell on it before he’s hitting the
breaks for the turn as he nearly misses it (again).
“They really don’t make this easy to find,” he mutters as they drive
down the winding and shaded pathway, trees curling over onto the
road just because they feel like it.
“Can’t imagine it’s a stop on everyone’s list,” Harry says with a
yawn.
“Except us,” Louis says with faked enthusiasm, “We love giant
condiment statues.”

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“It’s not like we’ll ever be back here,” Harry says. “Or, at least I
don’t plan to be. Might as well see it once.”
“Might as well,” Louis agrees with a pasted on smile. It’s one of the
stupider things Harry has made him do in the last thirty-six hours.
He’s a bit worried about what other hidden non-gems are in Harry’s
itinerary. He might need to look into that the next time he’s allowed
to get the precious journal out of the glove compartment.
“That’s it,” Harry says suddenly and Louis slams the breaks yet
again as they both lurch forward against their seatbelts.
It’s hard to miss although Louis almost did. The world’s largest
ketchup bottle takes the form of a water tower sitting tall over the
highway like a red beacon. There’s a parking lot near the bottom
with one car pulling out. Louis signals right and pulls in, parking in
the very front row and cutting the ignition.
“Here we are, Harry. Illinois’s worst attraction, possibly the worst in
the entire country.”
Harry rolls his eyes as he opens his door and climbs out. “It’s kind
of cool,” he says, shielding his eyes against the sun to look up at it.
Louis’s face shows his disbelief but he schools it into something
more neutral when Harry leans back in the car to get his camera.
Louis doesn’t think this needs to be documented but what does he
know. He doesn’t even think he’s going to get out of the Jeep until
Harry starts walking away and then he feels forced to join him.
That, or roast in the warm car.
“I don’t think it’s the worst in the country,” Harry says when Louis
catches up to him. “The world’s biggest ball of paint is in America.
People add like, a layer of paint every day when they come in and it
just gets bigger and bigger.”

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Louis misses a step before he continues. “What the fuck? That
sounds awful.”
“It’s a pretty interesting artistic feat,” Harry says, pausing and
lifting his camera as he tilts his head back. “A ton of different artists
responsible for something record breaking.”
“Artists,” Louis snorts. “That sounds like a tourist trap and a waste
of time.”
“It’d be cool to see it,” Harry says with a shrug. He squats lower to
get his shot of the water tower and Louis puts his hands on his hips.

“Please, dear god, tell me the giant ball of paint is not in our path.”
“It’s in Arkansas,” Harry says without missing a beat. Louis kind of
can’t believe he’s memorized the home of such an atrocity. “So,
no.”
Louis isn’t religious but he crosses himself and kisses his fingertips
anyway. He opens his eyes to Harry watching him and smiles
sheepishly.
“I don’t like how close we are to it,” Harry says, backing up. “I
want a shot from like, the middle of the freeway. It’s a better
vantage point.”
Louis turns toward the way they’ve came - the quiet road leading
down to the water tower and the six lanes of freeway just beyond.
It’s not exactly busy but the cars aren’t going slow by any means.
He’s about to ask Harry how he plans to get there when Harry turns
and starts walking away directly toward the highway.

“You’re not actually going out there,” Louis calls after him.
“Yeah, I am,” Harry says without turning around, putting his
camera strap around his neck.

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“I’m not going with you.”

“Didn’t ask you to.”

Louis sticks his tongue out at Harry’s retreating figure.

The next ten minutes are a mix of nerve wracking and entertaining
as Harry literally dodges traffic to get to the middle divider of the
freeway. There are honking horns and swerving trucks as Louis
covers his eyes, very sure he’s about to see something disgusting
happen before his very eyes.
Harry does make it to the middle eventually and when he turns
around to take the picture, Louis can see his smile from the parking
lot, lighting up his face.
“An adrenaline junkie, great,” Louis says with an eye roll as he
walks back toward the Jeep. He definitely wouldn’t have pegged
Harry for one if his life depended on it - not Mr. Orderly Plans who
does boring things like taste maple syrup.
Watching Harry duck and dive his way back across the freeway is
another heart pounding moment as Louis realizes he doesn’t even
know Harry’s mother’s name. If he ends up flattened on the
highway, he’s going to have to call Niall to tell Harry’s family and
that is a phone call he doesn’t want to make. Before he can really
start to panic about it, Harry is running back across the quieter road,
his hands secured to his camera and the smile still on his face.
“That got my heart racing,” he says when he’s close enough to
Louis.
“I hope you got a picture that is going to publish in National
Geographic,” Louis says drily, not betraying his own fear for
Harry’s safety from a moment earlier.

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“Probably not,” Harry says with a shrug. “But it was fun.” Louis
fish mouths for a moment and then let’s it go - maybe Harry Styles
is a bit more of an anomaly than he realized.
“I’ll keep driving,” Louis says at a loss for anything else to say. “I
don’t mind it.”
“Cool,” Harry says, heading for the passenger seat. “We just need to
cross the state line to Missouri and the Chain of Rocks Bridge and
then find a hotel for the night.”
“Chain of Rocks Bridge?” Louis asks as he puts it in his Maps.
“Another thriller, I see.”
“It’s a bridge built on top of boulders,” Harry says. He plugs his
phone into the stereo and looks for music as Louis pulls out of the
parking lot. Clearly he’s been relieved of DJ duty.

“Again, sounds thrilling,” Louis says.

“Are you going to say that about everything we do?”

“Not if we go to Six Flags,” Louis says. “I won’t complain about
that.”

“There’s still a question mark by that one,” Harry says smugly.

“Is that a threat?” Louis asks, looking over with his eyebrows
raised.
Harry just turns up the stereo and motions like he can’t hear. Louis
shakes his head as he focuses back on the road before them.

*
The Chain of Rocks Bridge is about as exciting as Louis imagines it
to be when they approach. True to Harry’s description, the steel

89
bridge is suspended over a line of boulders and curves in the middle
to form an L-shape.
“What do we do here?” Louis asks, pulling into yet another small
parking area. This one, at least, is mostly filled with cars which is a
slightly encouraging sign.
“Walk across it.” Harry takes off his seatbelt before Louis is even in
a parking space. He twists around in his seat to see the bridge like
an eager child and Louis has to give him - his enthusiasm hasn’t
waned while Louis’s has slowly depleted all day. “There are
restaurants and stuff on the other side.”
The mention of food is enough to get Louis out of the car, resting
his foot on the bumper to tie his shoes before they really get started.
“Oh sick, the sun is getting ready to set,” Harry says from the other
side of the car. “That’ll be gorgeous over the river.”
“You sound like a grandma at a retirement home,” Louis comments,
following Harry around to the edge of the car. Harry snarls his lip at
him.
They both grab sweatshirts from the back of the car - Harry’s pink
and Louis’s black which seems to sum up everything about them in
a color spectrum.
For what it’s worth, the sun setting over the Mississippi River is
stunning, the colors bleeding into the sky as they walk along the
bridge. Some people ride bicycles and there are a few joggers but
mostly people stroll. Louis does notice that most people seem to be
holding hands and in romantic relationships while he and Harry
mosey through them like ships passing.
They pause in the middle for Harry to get some better shots of the
light reflecting in the water, the wind starting to pick up around

90
them and making Louis happy for his sweatshirt. He tucks his
hands in his sleeves as he looks out over the water, endless in either
direction with dark greenery along the banks. There’s something
about water he finds absolutely mesmerizing and Harry must agree
as they linger in the center for a while before continuing along to
the other edge.
There are plenty of restaurants along the little inlet at the edge of
the bridge - two diners Louis can see, an ice creamery and an Italian
place.
“Let’s stay away from the diners,” Harry says, already matching
Louis’s silent thoughts. “I think we’ll find plenty of places like that
for the next couple of weeks.”
Louis nods and points to Gianni’s - the Italian place pretending to
be authentic on the edge if the Missouri river. “You good with
pasta, then?” Harry smiles, “Love pasta.”
“Finally something we agree on,” Louis teases as they cross the
small square to the restaurant, Harry snapping a photo of the front
before they go in.

*
“Tell me why you put a question mark next to Six Flags,” Louis
says bluntly once they’ve placed their order for dinner, the wind
still curling softly around them and the water gentle in the
background.
Louis is pretty sure the hostess mistook them for a couple
considering she’s sat them on the candlelit back porch overlooking
water and offered them complimentary wine before even handing
them menus. Not that Louis is going to complain - free Pinot Noir
has never tasted so good.

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“I just wasn’t sure about it,” Harry says. He lifts his glass of wine
and looks out over the water. Louis doesn’t know him well but he’s
pretty sure he can already tell when he’s lying. This would be one
of those moments.
“You didn’t plan anything else, though,” Louis says, not letting it
drop. “You only put Six Flags with a question mark and then the
next city. Do you really mean that you were planning to waste a day
if you don’t go to Six Flags?” Harry looks back at him, his gaze
unimpressed. “What were you planning to do? Drive in circles?”
Harry shakes his head and takes another sip. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Louis raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “Harry
Styles, owner of the road trip and fierce enforcer of the itinerary,
doesn’t know what he’s going to do?”

Harry rolls his eyes and looks away again. “Will you drop it?”
“No, definitely not.” Louis adjusts in his chair and brings his glass
of wine closer. “Why is there a question mark next to the
amusement park?”
Harry is quiet for a moment and then mutters something Louis can’t
understand.
“What?” He leans closer to Harry, mindful of the lit candle between
them. He doesn’t really want to catch himself on fire during his
interrogation.
Harry turns back and lifts his chin slightly. “I don’t like roller
coasters.”

Louis blinks, “Okay?”

“So I didn’t want to go to an amusement park where I was too
scared to go on the rides.”

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Louis holds up a hand to stop Harry. “You don’t like roller coasters
or you’re scared of them?”
Harry takes a deep breath and must decide that answering Louis is
inevitable as he exhales. “Both.”
Louis scratches his jaw, eyebrows pulling together as he tries to
figure out Harry’s game plan.
“Why write it down if you weren’t planning to go?”
Harry licks his bottom lip and takes a drink of wine, bigger than the
last. Louis matches him and they set their glasses down
simultaneously. “I thought I would drive there and see if I could get
up the guts to go inside. Like, if I looked at it from the parking lot, I
would guilt myself into going inside and going on the rides.”
Louis shakes his head, not following. “You ran into traffic today
without a second thought but you want to stand outside an amusement
park, somewhere there are actual safety regulations, and see if your
balls are big enough to go inside?”

Harry glares at Louis. “Can you please just let this go?”
“Absolutely not,” Louis says shaking his head. “This is the most
interesting thing I’ve learned about you in two days.”
Silence lingers and Harry looks away toward the restaurant,
probably wishing he could apparate like Harry Potter before he
finally looks back.

“I like to be in control of stuff,” Harry starts.

“No, really?” Louis smiles and motions for Harry to go on.

“Yes, really,” Harry says with a flick of his head. “But sometimes I
wish I wasn’t.” He looks up and Louis isn’t sure he’s telling the full

93
truth but, then again, he doesn’t expect Harry to just start laying out
his life problems right there on the table two days into the trip. “I’m
trying to be better about being spontaneous,” he says.
Louis stays perfectly still because he doesn’t want to cut Harry off
with the truth - that he’s not very good at it.
“Something like going to take a picture in the middle of the
freeway,” he says with a slight smile,
“Is more spontaneous than I’ve been in a very long time.”
Louis isn’t sure if he should pity Harry or not. Tempting death is
spontaneous but surely he’s done something more fun than that in
the last weeks, or months at least. “And roller coasters?”
“Roller coasters,” Harry says with another deep breath, “Just freak
me the fuck out. There’s a difference between conquering a fear and
being spontaneous.”
Louis narrows his eyes, weighing the two. “I think they can
intersect,” he says. “Sometimes it’s easiest to overcome something
spontaneously.”
Harry smiles without showing his teeth. “Maybe,” he says but Louis
doesn’t believe him.
The waiter comes with their food then - fettuccini Alfredo for Louis
and eggplant parmesan for Harry with a basket of bread and a refill
of wine. For the first time all day, Louis feels pretty damn content.
“Let’s go to Six Flags tomorrow,” Louis says once they thank the
waiter and he leaves them. “I’m making the executive decision.”
Harry picks up his fork and half-smiles, the corner of his lips
quirking up. “I had a feeling you might do that.”

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Louis twirls his fork in his pasta and flips it around to help it cool.
“I’m doing it partly because I’m selfish and I want to go,” he
smiles, “And partly because it’ll give you the chance to face your
fear.
If you want.” He shrugs, “Or, you can go on all the baby rides while
I have a blast.”
Harry uses his knife to cut off a bite of his own dinner. “I’ll go but
I’m not making any promises,” he says. “So I hope you like going
on roller coasters alone.”
Louis smiles with his mouth full of food, “We’ll see,” he says. He
won’t tell Harry now but he’s been known to be pretty good at
convincing people to do things they don’t necessarily want to - it’s
what he’s planning to become a professional in, after all.

*
They both eat too much and the walk back across the bridge is
much more sated and sleepy than the original trek. They don’t
pause to look out over the water once and barely say more than a
few words as they pass under the street lamps lining the edges.
“Any hotel in particular?” Louis asks as they get in the car, Harry
behind the wheel.
Harry rubs his eye with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and shakes his
head. “Somewhere close, I’m exhausted.”
“We went to like three-hundred tourist sites today,” Louis says like
an explanation.
Harry isn’t too tired to roll his eyes at that. “It was like five but
thank you for the dramatics.”

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Louis’s hospitality search on Google Maps lands them at a Holiday
Inn five minutes away and another room for under sixty dollars.
They take the elevator up to the second floor silently and then go
about their business getting ready for bed without pause. Harry
takes his bed apart the way he did at the Quality Inn and Louis
follows suit - nervous he may be developing Harry’s same habit.
Harry turns on the air conditioning but keeps it lower than he did
the night before, thank god.
Harry showers first and then Louis rinses off quickly, sleep tugging
too hard for him to linger under the warm water. Harry is already in
bed when he comes out, his lamp turned off and eyes closed. Louis
is quiet as he pulls on a pair of boxers and slides into his own cool
sheets and flips off the lamp on his side table.
*

DAY THREE

St. Louis, Missouri

Harry’s alarm shatters through Louis’s sleepy brain on the morning
on Day 3 and has him shoving his head under his pillow in
immediate protest. He doesn’t usually operate with morning alarms
much preferring to take later classes and wake up naturally. Harry,
clearly, doesn’t agree.
By the time Louis resurfaces from his pillow cocoon, the alarm has
been thankfully turned off and Harry is still in his bed, scrolling
through his phone with sleepy eyes.
“Do we have to wake up this early every day?” Louis asks over a
yawn, pulling the sheet over his shoulders and turning his back to
Harry.

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“It’s like eight,” Harry says. “That’s not very early.” Harry’s voice
is ridiculously deep and scratchy for how early it is and Louis
tries his best to pretend like he hasn’t noticed. “Besides, Six Flags
is an hour away from here. I figured you wouldn’t want to waste
any time.”
Louis grins as he flips around in the bed to face Harry. “That’s
right,” he says. “It’s Six Flags day.”
He won’t say he’d forgotten that fact overnight but he certainly
hadn’t remembered it right after waking up. “Today’s the day you
face all your fears, yeah?”
Harry actually snorts as he sits up. He stretches his hands over his
head and his back curves with it. Louis looks away pointedly - he
doesn’t need to stare at Harry’s long, lithe body this early in the
morning. “We’ll see,” he says, echoing Louis’s words from last
night.
They dress quietly, taking turns in the bathroom and then re-packing
their bags quickly and efficiently. If nothing else, by the end of their
road trip Louis will have a firm grip on how best to repack his bag
and check for stray belongings beneath hotel beds in less than five
minutes.
While the Holiday Inn is cheap, it definitely doesn’t include a
complimentary breakfast in the lobby, though they both look around
curiously before they leave. There is a pot of watery coffee they
both drink quickly, Harry gagging every sip and Louis plugging his
nose so he doesn’t taste it.
“I had no idea hotel coffee was such shit,” Harry says as they pile
their bags in the back of the Jeep again.
“This is what we get for picking the cheapest hotels we come
across,” Louis says though the complaint is light. He’s definitely

97
not planning to start dropping extra money on hotels just for better
coffee. “Lucky for us, I stole those cereal bars from the hotel
yesterday.”
“Lucky us,” Harry says with an eye roll but he still takes the bar
Louis offers - Cinnamon Toast Crunch - and devours it before
they’re even on the road.
“This reminds me of being a kid,” Louis says. “Sugary cereal we
all ate before we knew better.” Harry smirks and glances over.
“My sister and I didn’t get sugar cereal as kids,” he says.
“I’m so sorry,” Louis says seriously, his hand over his heart. He
smiles when Harry glares at him.
“My mom would get us like, Cheerios, and then sprinkle something
sugary on top. So we’d get a bowl of something bland and like, ten
Lucky Charms mixed in.”
Louis holds up a hand, “Wait, Lucky Charms marshmallows or a
mix of cereal and marshmallows?”
“A mix,” Harry says. “We’d have battles at the breakfast table if
Gemma got more marshmallows than I did.”
“I can’t believe you were so deprived as a child,” Louis says,
shaking his head. “Everything makes more sense now.”
Harry laughs lightly as they pause at a stoplight before turning on
the highway. “Considering you probably ate sugar cereal seven
mornings a week, I could say the same about you.”
“That it explains why I’m so sweet?” Louis bats his eyelashes and
puts his foot up on the dashboard. “Harry, you flatter me.”

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Louis puts on a James Bay playlist for the morning drive because
it’s the only music he’s even slightly in the mood for at such an
hour. He settles back into his seat and considers taking a cat nap for
the hour drive until Harry is aggressively pulling off on an exit and
sending Louis jolting to sit up straight in his seat.
“The fuck?” He says, tugging the seatbelt away from his neck
where it’s suddenly pressing too hard in an effort to protect him
from Harry’s violent driving tendencies. “Sorry,” Harry says, not
quite sounding it. “I saw a sign for Waffle House.” “And?” Louis
asks incredulously, not seeing the connection.
“I’ve been craving a waffle since yesterday at the syrup farm,” he
says. “If that’s okay with you?”
“Definitely,” Louis says, readjusting in his seat and smiling at the
prospect of a fluffy waffle with warm syrup - a hot cup of coffee
that doesn’t taste like dirty water. “Unless,” he says with narrowing
eyes, “This is a ploy to distract me from getting you to Six Flags?”
Harry shakes his head, “What? Of course not. You know I’ve been
waiting my whole life for Six Flags. I love roller coasters.” He
smiles like he’s trying to sell Louis a bag of bullshit and then rolls
his eyes.
“I’ll admit you’re doing a good job choosing food as a distraction,”
Louis says. “But you can stop at every Waffle House between here
and the park but we’re definitely still going.”
Harry’s smile slips from his face and he readjusts his hands on the
wheel. “I knew it wouldn’t be that easy,” he says. “But I really do
want a waffle, so.”

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Louis doesn’t fight him on it as they pull into the parking lot - he
really wants a waffle too and the syrup farm from yesterday has
only exacerbated the matter.

“Harry.”

“What?”
Louis sighs as they drive past three empty parking spots outside of
Six Flags St. Louis. “You’re going to need to park somewhere.”
“I’m looking for the perfect spot,” he says without taking his eyes
from the asphalt path in front of the car. Louis counts four more
empty spots as Harry turns down the next row.

“You’re fucking ridiculous, I hope you know.”

Harry smiles, “Thanks.”

Louis rolls his eyes and groans. “Just park before you make me car
sick. If you don’t want to go on a roller coaster, I won’t make you
but, personally, I’d love to go on one before sunset.”
Harry shoots a glance at the clock in the dashboard and Louis does
too - it’s only ten now but his point stands. Harry is wasting their
precious time. As if he’s said it out loud, Harry turns the Jeep into a
spot - probably the twentieth open one they’ve come across.

“Sorry,” Harry says. He clears his throat, “I’m nervous.”

Louis kind of feels bad that Harry is actually apologizing for being
scared. “It’s fine,” Louis says. He opens the car door the same time
as Harry and they climb out in sync, managing to shut the doors at
the same time too.

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Harry gets his camera out of the backseat and Louis is slowly growing
more confident Harry’s feet will be staying firmly planted on the
ground of the park. Not unless he fancies his chances of holding his
expensive camera on a roller coaster boasting three loops in a row.
(Louis may have looked up the park on the drive over - curious about
what he had to look forward to.)
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Louis says
as they start across the parking lot. The bottom line, as it always
seems to be, is that Louis is an older brother as well as an instigator
of going on adventures. The last thing he would do is put his sisters
in a situation they don’t want to be in and he won’t do it to Harry
either - not that he’s his little sister but, whatever. The point stands.
He’ll poke and prod but never to the point of someone breaking, not
intentionally at least.
Their day pass wristbands are slightly more expensive than the
hotel room they stayed in the night before but Louis doesn’t
complain - there are plenty of things he’ll spend money on without
thinking and amusement parks are kind of high on that list.
Harry doesn’t seem as sure as he secures the wristband on his left
wrist - or tries to but his hand keeps slipping. Louis rolls his eyes
but stops to help him, clipping the two ends together easily and then
sliding a finger underneath to make sure it’s not too tight. Harry’s
skin is warm to the touch and Louis can hardly focus when he feels
Harry’s pulse rabbiting against his fingertip when he checks for
tightness. Louis pulls away feeling guilty, like he’s making all of
Harry’s worst nightmares come true.
If he is, Harry doesn’t let it on. He leads Louis to the large map at
the entrance of the park showing all of the different sections of the
park with an index of the kinds of rides, height requirements and
names. It’s a lot to take in and his eyes kind of blur over as Harry

101
seems to study it intently. Louis waits for Harry to announce where
they’re going to start since having a game plan in an amusement
park seems right up his alley but when he looks over at Louis he
looks just as lost as Louis does.
“I don’t know where to start,” he says. “I wasn’t exactly planning to
come so I didn’t research the different areas and stuff.”
“Research?” Louis scratches his jaw and stares at Harry for a beat.
“You don’t need to research this, okay? We’ll just walk around and
if something seems fun, we do it.”
Harry rolls his eyes. “I’ve been to an amusement park, Louis. I
mean like I don’t know what the best stuff is - what we definitely
need to see or do while we’re here.”
Of course. Harry doesn’t want to miss anything on the route and, of
course , that includes the rides within the amusement park. Louis
kind of wants to flick Harry’s ear and tell him to focus on having
fun. Waiting too long to do the best things usually means you miss
out on the ones that are the most fun. Instead of doing any of that,
Louis starts walking away.
“We’ll have to figure it out ourselves,” Louis says over his shoulder
when Harry finally starts walking after him. He spins around and
smiles, taking a couple steps backward. “For example, American
Thunder,” he gestures at the sign they’re headed toward, “A
wooden roller coaster going around the entire park. That sounds
like a classic, yeah?”
Harry actually stops walking at that and Louis laughs as he turns
forward and continues on his way. He may not have done research
but he still knows how to have fun. The question, of course, will be
if Harry can figure out how to join in.

102
 *
Louis has nothing short of a wonderful time over the first couple of
hours. He feels like he’s a kid all over again, getting off one ride to
go to another - except he no longer has to worry about height and
weight requirements and he isn’t responsible for dragging two little
sisters with him while the rest go with his mom and dad.
He does, however, have Harry tagging along but that’s not so bad, it
turns out. After the first five times of asking Harry if he wants to go
on the rides with him only to be met with, “No thanks,” Louis just
stops asking. Harry seems content with the turn of events as he
wanders around the park taking pictures or sitting on the wooden
benches scattered throughout to people watch. Louis would be
bored out of his mind if the roles were reversed but that’s one of the
stark differences between him and Harry - finding joy in something
idle versus something active.
They pause to eat lunch at a little cafe boasting air conditioning and
chicken fingers while Harry goes through the pictures on his
camera and Louis goes through a map of the park for anything he
might have missed.
“Are you having fun?” Louis mistakenly asks when their baskets of
chicken fingers and fries arrive.
Harry raises his eyebrows and huffs out a brash laugh. “Chasing
you around an amusement park for two hours? What do you think?”
Louis’s mouth goes dry over his first bite of lunch and he drops the
chicken finger back in the basket. “You don’t have to chase me
around,” Louis says, somewhat defensively. “You can do whatever
you want which is what I thought you were doing anyway.” He
motions at Harry’s camera like an explanation.

103
“There are only so many pictures you can take in a place like this,”
Harry says. “Nothing is particularly exciting in a manufactured
place for eight year olds.”
Louis rolls his eyes and picks up his chicken. “I resent that
comment,” he says. “I happen to be having a lot of fun. Maybe you
would too if you actually went on a ride.”
“I don’t want to go on the rides you go on,” Harry says and Louis
would go so far to say he sounds a bit petulant about it.
“Go on other rides, then,” Louis says, flicking his hand at the map
between their baskets. He bites a fry in half and chews quickly.
“There’s got to be something you want to do on here.”

“I don’t want to go by myself,” Harry says. “I don’t know anyone.”

Louis tries to contain his reaction but his eyes bulge anyway. “What
do you think I’ve been doing?
I don’t know all these people, H. I’m clearly going alone.”
“Yeah but you’re like-” Harry waves his hand around and he’s lost
Louis.

“What the fuck is that?” Louis mimics the motion again.

Harry gnaws off a piece of his chicken and chews quietly. Louis is
trying not to be frustrated but Harry’s acting a bit like a wet blanket
and the way he motioned just now seems mildly offensive even if
Louis is not exactly sure what he meant by it.
“I mean,” Harry starts as though Louis has spoken out loud, “That
talking to people you don’t know is easy for you.”

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“What?” Louis doesn’t think he’s talked to a single person about
anything more than how they’re both excited for the ride they’re
standing in line for.
Harry seems to be getting frustrated too, sighing and twisting the
strap on his camera. “I’ve watched you in line. At every ride you
talk to people even though you may not know them. I’m not like
that.”
Louis almost laughs. Harry is charming - to a fault. Anytime he
talks to waiters or waitresses or the concierge at the hotel, he’s
flattering and funny to the point where they seem to dance right into
his palm like he could ask them for anything. Why he doesn’t think
that applies to random strangers at Six Flags, Louis isn’t sure.
“It’s not as easy for me,” Harry says, answering Louis’s unspoken
thoughts again. “To just start a conversation if I don’t know
someone wants to talk to me. So going on a ride alone wouldn’t be
very fun.”
Louis isn’t sure what to say. He starts conversations all the time
with people who probably don’t want to talk to him but the thought
doesn’t really cross his mind when he does. It’s been that way his
entire life - he’s just a friendly person or something. Harry makes it
sound like he’s confident about it or enjoys talking to strangers
when the reality is that his mouth sometimes precedes his thoughts
and talking happens to be an oddly passive activity he doesn’t really
think through.
Under that, there’s also the thought that Harry has been watching
him the last couple of hours, admiring the way he makes friends in
long lines - he can’t process that right now, though. He has other
things to focus on. Namely, Harry staring at his lunch like it’s
disappointing him.

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“What rides do you want to go on?” Louis cuts to the chase without
even beginning to unpack what is clearly a lingering insecurity for
Harry. “Pick some and I’ll go with you.” He picks up a fry and
gestures at the map, “I’ll go on anything not intended for kids. So,
no to Bugs Bunny Land,” he says, pointing at the pink outline area
in the corner of the map.
Harry actually kind of smiles before it withers. “I don’t need you to
pity me,” he says.
“I’m not,” Louis says and it is partially true. “I may find it easier to
talk to strangers but it doesn’t mean I always want to. I didn’t
realize you had any interest in going on rides, H.” Louis hopes he
doesn’t sound like a total prat when he says, “I’d much rather go on
rides with a friend than by myself.” He’s not sure they’re entirely
friends after two and a half days on the road but Louis knows Harry
the best out of anyone in the entire park, in the entire state of
Missouri, probably. That must count for something.
Harry swirls a piece of chicken in his container of honey mustard
dipping sauce and takes a bite. “If you still want to go on roller
coasters, you can,” he says. “But if you want to go on some of the
other stuff, I’ll go with you.”
Louis feels like they’ve both just walked down off a slippery ledge
of almost getting into a fight in the middle of Six Flags of all
places. There’s just something about the two of them that seem to
send them both in a tailspin one way or another. Maybe they’re too
stubborn; maybe they’re both a bit insufferable.
Louis smiles and takes a drink from the bottle of water he bought
for an exorbitant amount of money with his lunch. “Deal,” he says
quietly, glancing down at the map.

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Harry is already running his finger down the list of rides slowly, his
bottom lip drawn between his top teeth as he concentrates.

*
Outside of the cafe it feels like a new day - the smell of sunscreen
lingering in the air twisting with the smell of chlorine from the
water rides. Louis detects a twirling hint of fresh cotton candy but
doesn’t let himself indulge. The last thing he needs is to be the one
to puke on the first ride Harry goes on.
They’ve just decided to go on the Go Karts first when Harry
suddenly says, “Shit, wait,” and walks away quickly. Louis doesn’t
even get a chance to call after him before Harry starts semi-jogging
and disappears into a throng of children and adults in matching
orange t-shirts. They look like they’ve all been all let out of prison
with the fashion choices.
He stands around for a moment before going to the nearest, empty
wooden bench and sitting down.
He looks in the direction of where Harry has disappeared and sees a
large Visitor
Information/Restroom sign curving overhead. Louis winces in
sympathy for Harry - maybe lunch was too much for him or maybe
the nerves of Louis shoving him on a roller coaster was too much to
take and he had to retreat to the nearest bathroom.
Louis watches a couple across the park from him, maybe a little
older than he and Harry, holding hands and eating off of the same
fluffy cloud of cotton candy. It must be the same one that Louis had
smelled earlier though he’s more entranced by the way they eat it,
sharing sugary kisses between each airy bite.
It’s a little romantic and a little gross, actually. He vaguely wishes
for someone to share cotton candy before he thinks about how

107
sticky their mouths must be - their colored tongues and teeth. The
couple must realize it at the same time he does, as they both start
giggling and pointing at each other, their laughter making Louis
smile from his perch three hundred feet away. That - he thinks is
what he wants. Not the cotton candy but the mindless laughter, the
belly aches from making fun of each other but never in a cruel way.
He drags his eyes away when he sees Harry coming back toward
him, looking no worse for wear as he gives Louis a thumbs up with
a small grin.
“Okay?” Louis asks, standing up. Maybe Harry feels better now or
maybe he’s only gotten a brief reprieve from his stomach to come
tell Louis they need to leave immediately.

“Yeah,” he says with a smile. “Ready?”

Louis nods and then he pauses. “Wait, where’s your camera? Did
you leave it in the bathroom?” His eyes go wide as he thinks of
Harry’s precious camera in an amusement park bathroom with
hundreds of people milling around. He’s not sure how that situation
ends well.
“What?” Harry tilts his head, “I wasn’t in the bathroom?”
“What?” Louis echoes back to him.
“I rented a locker to put my camera in,” Harry says slowly, holding
up his wrist and the bright orange key that has been tied to his entry
wristband. “I didn’t want to take it on the rides.”
Louis tries to stop himself but then a huff of laughter slips out of his
mouth followed quickly by another.

“Is that funny?” Harry asks, clearly confused.

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“I thought you ran away because you were having like, explosive
diarrhea,” Louis laughs loudly now, his eyes nearly closing from it.
Harry’s cheeks go pink and his mouth opens in slight offense. “Uh,
no, I was not but I’m glad you are so concerned about my digestive
health.”
Louis tries to catch his breath, a smile still pulling at his lips despite
his minimal (at best) efforts to get it together. “Sorry,” he says, nose
scrunching. “Was that TMI?” He hasn’t been around many people
who embarrass easily at potty humor but he knows they exist out
there somewhere.
Harry levels his chin and licks his bottom lip. “When I was sixteen,
I went to Argentina with my dad and got such bad food poisoning I
was shitting and puking at the same time.” He smiles pleasantly,
“TMI?”
Louis shakes his head, “Yes, actually,” he says. He walks away
forcefully and then ends up laughing when Harry catches up with
him, partly at the shit-eating grin crawling all over Harry’s mouth.

*
They start easy with Go Karts, which Harry is scarily good at and
then graduate to a swinging pirate ships that sends their stomachs
into their throats so they can’t stop laughing. There’s the classic
Scrambler where they sit pressed together in one cart that flies
through the traffic of the other carts and makes it feel like they’re
going to crash at any moment.
“This is how I feel when you’re driving,” Louis says as the ride
slows and Harry flicks his ear something he must have
unknowingly learned from Niall.

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They play rock-paper-scissors to decide who has to ride the antique
carousel. Harry loses and Louis laughs about it for the entire time
he watches Harry spins around on a black horse to ballet music with
all of the other children under the age of eight. He takes a few
pictures on his phone when he thinks about it and though they
aren’t as high quality as Harry’s, he still thinks they’re priceless.
They ride on a free falling elevator thing that neither of them
particularly enjoys though Louis ends up being the one screaming
for the entirety of the ride making Harry claim he’s gone deaf.
There’s a log ride with a 100-foot drop that they go on, getting
drenched in the process and drying quickly in the afternoon sun.
“What’s the difference between that and a roller-coaster?” Louis
asks once they’re off, pulling their slick t-shirts away from their
skin and squeezing out excess water.
“It doesn’t go upside down,” Harry says. He runs his fingers back
through his hair repeatedly and it only serves to make his hair look
akin to a mad scientist - pointing in every direction.

“Not all roller coasters go upside down,” Louis says.

Harry sighs. “I know. But they’re fast and that freaks me out.”
“They couldn’t be faster than the free-fall tower drop we did,”
Louis points out.
“I didn’t like that,” Harry reminds him and Louis nods because,
yeah, neither did he.
“What is it about roller coasters? Besides going upside down. Did
something happen?”

Harry shakes his head, “No. Just the idea like, freaks me out.”

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Louis stops walking and Harry matches his motion. “Will you go on
one roller coaster with me?
One that doesn’t go upside down?”
Harry swallows and starts twisting the rings around on his fingers.
Louis hasn’t asked him in a few hours about going on one - he
doesn’t mean to make Harry so on edge about it.

“If I can look at it before we get on,” Harry says reluctantly.

Louis is surprised by his answer and he’s sure it reads all over his
face. “Wait, really?”

“One,” Harry says, holding his finger up. “Only one.”

Louis smiles and nods once before starting to walk again. “We’ll go
on the first one I went on when we got here, American Thunder,” he
says confidently. “There are only a couple drops and it’s supposed
to be more scenic than scary. It doesn’t even go that quickly.”
Harry nods once and then twice, his jaw tight. “You swear it doesn’t
go upside down?”
Louis laughs and glances at him. “H, I know it freaks you out, I get
it. But I would never trick you into something like that. Swear it.”
“Okay,” Harry says quietly and Louis feels a swing of desperate
hopes that no one has ever tricked Harry into doing something he
didn’t want to do.
They arrive at the base of American Thunder and Harry walks the
edges carefully, going up on his toes to see the parts not in clear
view from his eye level.

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“It goes all the way around the park,” Louis points out the track
where it looks like it disappears and tangles with other rides. “Takes
probably five minutes total to do.”
Harry takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
The line isn’t too long of a wait but Louis is still conscious of Harry
fidgeting and he keeps waiting for the moment he runs away from
the line altogether, maybe out of the park outright. He tries to
distract him by asking about the itinerary for tomorrow and where
they’ll be on Day 12 just to really make him think but that doesn’t
really seem to calm him at all.
“Where do you want to sit?” Louis asks once they’re up on the
platform, the empty roller coaster car waiting.
“With you,” Harry says incredulously like Louis is about to
abandon him.
Louis laughs lightly. “I know that and, as flattering as that is, I
meant what car?”
Harry’s face turns a pretty pink as he goes right for the middle car
and Louis follows, shaking his head. If they make it off the ride in
one piece, he’ll be thankful.
Once they’re seat belted in and the safety harness comes down,
Harry starts sweating and tugging on everything to make sure it’s
secure. Louis doesn’t comment, sure that Harry is about to puke if
he makes fun of him right now.

“H,” Louis says, “I went on this one earlier, yeah? It’s super chill.”
That doesn’t seem to help Harry as he holds up sweat slick palms.
“Super chill,” he mimics.

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The ride jolts forward and Harry scrambles to hold onto the bars
over his chest as Louis stifles a laugh in the other direction. He
can’t believe he’s got Harry on the roller coaster and he can’t
believe how ridiculous Harry is being about it.
The steep incline at the beginning isn’t Louis’s favorite part and it
doesn’t seem to be Harry’s either, his feet tapping incessantly on the
floor of the car, knuckles white and eyes squeezed shut.
“You’re fine,” Louis says, just loud enough for Harry to hear.
“Open your eyes so you can see the view.”
Harry complies and looks around quickly, his jaw still clenched
tight. They’re almost halfway up the incline and they can see most
of the park - dots and scribbles of color like an art piece.

“Is the first drop right after this?” Harry asks tersely.
Louis has been on the ride once, four hours ago, but racks his
memory for the layout. “There’s a small one,” he says quickly.
“You’ll see the biggest one before we get to it.” “Fuck, fuck,
fuck,” Harry chants as they finish the climb and Louis laughs.
“Family attraction, Harry,” he chastises and it gets a small smile out
of Harry, a dimple curving into his cheek as they crest the hill.
There’s no time to talk after that but Louis feels Harry’s presence,
his low guttural scream as they twist through the quicker parts and
dive into the drops. Louis chances a glance at Harry somewhere
toward the middle and is pleased to see he’s smiling, in between
yelling, “Oh fuck,” over and over.
The ride finishes quicker than it seemed to begin and Louis feels the
lingering adrenaline in his fingers and toes as Harry gasps for air
beside him. Louis remembers his comment about his inhaler with
startling clarity as he glances over at Harry. “Good?” He asks.

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Harry grins and nods, his hair all sorts of windblown and cheeks
red. “Good.”
“Congratulations,” Louis says once they’re back on solid ground
outside of the ride. He loves the way his legs feel a little like jelly
after roller coasters, the adrenaline finally starting to rest. “How was
it?”
“I want to do a loop one,” Harry says determinedly, passing up on a
summary of the ride they were just on.

Louis blinks into the silence between them. “Sorry, what?”

Harry swallows and nods, his eyes looking somewhere over Louis’s
head. “I want to do that one.”
He’s pointing at the lone black roller coaster in the park, three loops
in a row and Spiderman painted on the sign near the entrance.
“Hold on here, Superman,” Louis says, “It took me all day to get
you go on fucking American
Thunder and now you want to go on some sort of triple loop shit?”
Harry nods, finally meeting Louis’s eyes. “I do, yeah. I’ve built it
up in my mind for so long that I almost spent all of today sitting on
a bench while you had fun.” He shakes his head, “I’m over it.”
Louis doesn’t think it works that easily but he isn’t going to stop
Harry’s momentum. “Alright, let’s go,” he says. They start walking
toward the black monster coaster and all Louis can see is Harry
shaking on the climb of American Thunder - how visibly he’d worn
that fear. He’s not sure what’s going to happen when Harry is
strapped into one that is actually his biggest fear materialized into a
real thing.

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What happens is worse than American Thunder. Harry fidgets in
line and Louis offers twice for him to back out but Harry shakes his
head, his jaw flexing. For the first time Louis can actually see that
Harry is someone’s little brother in his fierce determination and the
way he won’t back down.
They sit in a center car again, a small lip separating their hips from
pressing together as they pull on the harnesses and safety bars.
There are twice as many safety precautions as American Thunder
had and if Harry notices, he doesn’t comment. Louis definitely
notices and it makes him slightly nervous - for Harry and for
himself. He loves the adrenaline of roller coasters but he never
claimed to be fearless in the face of the scarier ones.
There are two different attendants who check to make sure they’re
securely in their seats and that, more than anything else, seems to
get to Harry as his knees start jumping and his breathing goes
heavier. Louis takes a deep breath, a bit worried Harry’s fear is
contagious as the light turns green and the roller coaster takes off
from its parking spot.
Like the other roller coaster, this starts with a climb but twice as
high as last time. Halfway up, they can see the entire ride and the
first drop, the three loops as well. Louis hears Harry’s choked
inhale as they both see the same thing - three more loops on the
other side too.
“Louis,” he says, voice barely carrying over the thunder of the
tracks beneath them. “Louis,” he says again.
“What?” Louis calls back, trying to keep his voice from floating
away in the wind.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Harry says.

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Louis’s stomach drops for him - he knows there’s not a thing he can
do about it, the impending drop of the ride lingering just ahead.
“You’re going to be fine,” Louis says, knowing the words are of
little comfort.
“This was a stupid idea,” Harry says and Louis swears his voice
cracks in the middle.
It hits Louis in the chest and he doesn’t know what to do to fix it.
So he does the one thing he’s done for every scared sibling he’s
had, every worried friend and sick cousin. He reaches his hand
across the small gap between them and holds it out, waits for Harry
to grab back. He twists their fingers together and squeezes as they
reach the apex of the ride. It’s not much, it’s barely anything - but
it’s all they’ve got.

*
Louis’s hand is broken. Or, at the very least, some bones have been
rearranged. That doesn’t stop Harry from squeezing it again as the
ride comes to a close, the coaster sailing slowly back to where it
began. This time there is no lingering smile on Harry’s face and his
skin is pale instead of windblown. He only lets go of Louis’s hand
when he has to use it to take off the safety belt and even then his
grip leaves a lingering impression.
They stay quiet as they walk on the exit ramp to the outside area.
Louis’s heart is still racing from the ride, his feet tingling the way
they do after the most intense of roller coasters. He’s not sure it was
the best choice for Harry’s second one ever. Before Louis can ask
him anything, Harry reaches down for his crotch and pats twice.
Louis raises a questioning eyebrow and Harry almost smiles.

“Felt like I peed my pants,” he says.

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Louis laughs at that and Harry joins though his laughter is much
shakier and stops sooner. “No pee,” Louis says, “And you
survived.”
“Barely,” Harry says, shaking his head. “I think I blacked out at
least twice, felt my spirit leave my body a couple times.”
Louis shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure you did. But, hey,
you did it once and you never have to do it again, probably.”
“Yeah, no,” Harry says, “I’m never volunteering myself for that
kind of torture again.”
Louis grins. “Do you want to go to Bugs Bunny land to calm
down?”
Harry’s snark returns in the form of a middle finger directed at
Louis and a slight laugh. “No but I do want some of the cotton
candy.”
“I think you deserve that,” Louis says with another smile. He starts
walking away but Harry stops him.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he says, “Give me a minute to get the feeling
back in my legs.”
“You’re so stupid,” Louis says, no venom in his words only
laughter twisting through them like lace.
“I agree,” Harry says. “I totally agree.” He takes a hesitant step and
then a deep breath. “You’re going to have to drive to the hotel
tonight,” he says. “My legs feel like rubber and my balls have
climbed up inside my body in fear.”
Louis covers his face and only slightly muffles his laughter as they
slowly make their way toward the cotton candy. They don’t talk
about how Harry held Louis’s hand like a death grip or the way that

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Louis thinks he might have liked it. They definitely don’t talk about
the twisted feeling Louis feels deep in his stomach as they walk -
one that feels suspiciously like pride, like he might be proud of
Harry for facing his fears, for trusting Louis to be the one to be with
him for it. No, they definitely don’t talk about that.

*
They barely make it twenty minutes down the road after Six Flags
before they go through the Taco Bell drive-thru and get a cheap
room at the hotel in the same parking lot.
They eat far too much cheap Mexican food while watching reruns
of Real Housewives: Orange County. The exhaustion seems to seep
between them as they silently fold down their bed covers and get
under the cool sheets. Harry starts to say something but falls asleep
in the middle of it. Louis is too tired to even laugh at him and falls
asleep holding the wrapper of his bean burrito in his fist, the blue
light of the television dancing over both of them.

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 Day 4, 5, 6

DAY FOUR

St. Louis, Missouri

For once, they wake up in a hotel offering complimentary breakfast

and stumble down to the lobby with their packed bags just after
eight in the morning. Someday, Louis is going to get Harry to
actually sleep in even if he has to bribe him into it. He’ll offer
sugary cereal if he has to.
Motel 8 doesn’t offer a ton of breakfast options but they both
makedo with toasted bagels and cream cheese. The coffee isn’t
terrible for once and Louis eats fruit for the first time on the trip,
munching on a banana while Harry goes about the much trickier
task of eating a kiwi.

“What’s on the schedule today?” Louis asks over a sip of coffee.

“The Meramec Caverns,” Harry says without pause.

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“And what fun thing are we going to do there?” Louis smirks as he
says it and Harry rolls his eyes. It’s become a thing now - their
playful teasing. Sometimes they edge on the side of too aggressive
but they’re learning how to read each other.
“A couple of fun things actually,” Harry says. He squishes some
kiwi between his teeth and runs his hand over his mouth. “There’s a
zip line and a canoe trip on the river. Does that sound okay with
you, your highness?”
Louis smiles, “It does, actually.” He glances down at his black
skinny jeans and then back at Harry who has gone for athletic
shorts and tennis shoes. “When exactly were you planning to tell
me I was overdressed?”

Harry shrugs, “I wasn’t. Maybe you enjoy zip lining in skinnies.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Yeah, no. Not so much.” He takes the room
key from the edge of their table and lugs his bag back up the stairs
to change into a more appropriate outfit.

*
The drive is forty minutes of winding through wooded back roads
with the windows down and Frank Ocean playing through the
stereo. Louis taps his fingers along the edge of the Jeep and smiles
subtly as the sun peeks through the thick trees overhead. Happiness
settles in his stomach as Harry hums along to ‘Ivy’ with only one
hand on the wheel. It took them a few days to figure it out but Louis
thinks they might actually be getting along without trying. At least
until Harry tries to skip ‘Thinkin’ Bout You’ and Louis has to slap
his hand away from the stereo controls.
“This one is overplayed,” he grumbles as the first bars come over
the speakers. Louis turns it up louder and ignores him. By the first

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chorus Harry is singing right along with the words so Louis is
pretty sure he’s won the argument. Do you not think so far ahead?
‘Cause I’ve been thinking about forever.
*
One perk of Harry’s early rising tendencies is the parking lot at the
caverns isn’t even half-filled when they arrive and the cool air of
the morning hasn’t quite burned off either. They decide to start with
the zip line and book their canoe trip for ten managing to snag the
last two spots on the boat.
The zip line goes over for one-thousand feet above the trees and
then over the Meramec River and sends endless butterflies up
through Louis’s stomach as he slides down it, a silly grin on his
face for the entire ride. Harry comes behind him with a gleeful yell
at every curve in the line and a matching smile at the bottom.
“Not as bad as the Spiderman roller coaster?” Louis teases as they
take off their helmets and harnesses at the bottom.
“I’m a new man after that,” Harry says proudly. “I’m like,
invincible now.”
Louis can’t help his laughter as he adjusts his aviators. “Why’s
that?”
Harry tangles his ridiculous legs in the harness and huffs as he
plops on the ground to twist out of it properly. “I evaded death,” he
says when he stands back up. “It changes you.”
Louis can’t even respond as they leave the zip line platform. Harry
is absolutely ridiculous and Louis isn’t going to burst his bubble.

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They buy bottles of water before boarding the shuttle up to the
canoe launch spot with twelve other people - mostly families with a
couple older couples scattered around. The shuttle takes them up
higher to the top of the river and drops them off to get life jackets
with the canoe tied to the dock in the background.
Louis wears red shorts and puts his t-shirt in his backpack in hopes
of an even tan. He finds a snapback he twists backwards smirking
when he notices Harry is in an identical outfit with a black
snapback. Louis notices a lot of odd smiles thrown at him and
Harry as they all put on their life jackets before getting on the boat.
Perhaps it’s the fact they have more tattoos between them than the
rest of their group. Maybe because they’re both a bit incompetent
when it comes to life jackets and have to end up helping each other
strap in. Or maybe because they start bickering when Harry buckles
Louis’s jacket too tight and then Louis accidentally pinches the skin
on the bottom of Harry’s chin with one of the straps and can barely
apologize over his laughter.
“Very cute,” one lady says fondly once they’ve got the life jacket
situation under control.
Harry thanks her with a smile and then looks to Louis. “What’s
cute?”
“No idea,” Louis says, watching as the woman goes to her husband
and gestures at the two of them. “Maybe she has a crush on you.”
Harry raises his eyebrows, “Oh boy.” Louis sees him trying to hide
his smile.
The canoe ride is peaceful as it can be with twelve other strangers.
The boat slices through the water as the sun positions itself high
overhead, the trees all leaning forward from their banks like they’re
trying to touch the canoes. It’s mostly quiet in the back of the canoe

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where they find themselves except for the shutter of Harry’s camera
every once in awhile or a quiet, “Lou,” when he tries to point out
something he spots on the banks.
There aren’t many wild animals around but there are a fleet of goats
who call to them as they pass and a few fish who ride along with
the swell of the water under the boat before dashing off eventually.
Louis feels the sun burning his nose and shoulders and makes a
mental note to get sunscreen but doesn’t think about much else.
They’ve found a hidden oasis in the middle of Missouri and for
once he’s thankful for Harry’s incessant research and itinerary
keeping.

*
They’re both a bit cranky and hungry by the time they get to Cuba -
though Harry manages to make a few jokes about how he didn’t
realize they’d left the United States. Louis stares at him blankly and
that ends his stand-up comedy routine quickly.
There’s a family winery on the edge of town Harry had written in
his journal and so they spend lunch outside on the patio, drinking
dry wine since that happens to be Missouri’s specialty. They both
order sandwiches to go with the complimentary cheese and crackers
as they look out over the endless valley of vines, the leaves on the
edge of turning from green to brown wherever they look.
“What else do they have in fake Cuba?” Louis asks once he starts
eating and finds his mood magically restored.
Harry pauses with his wine glass halfway to his lips. “Wait, is this
not real Cuba?” He laughs at his own joke before Louis can. “It’s
sometimes called ‘Mural City’ because all of the street murals. If

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you go in the right order, they’re supposed to tell the story of how
this Cuba was founded.”
Louis shakes his head, “I had no idea I was signing up for an art
history expedition. Or that Niall signed me up for an art history
expedition”
Harry nods as he swallows his sip of wine. “Yeah, well, I had no
idea I’d have company.”
“Understatement,” Louis says drily. “So you love this stuff, yeah?
Artsy things?”
Harry nods and holds up a finger as Louis has just caught him after
taking a massive bite of his sandwich. “I do, yeah,” he says once he
swallows.
“And you want to work in an art museum after school?” It’s an easy
guess considering Niall met Harry at a museum internship. Louis is
surprised when Harry shrugs.

“Not really. I’d love to work in a gallery, maybe become a curator.”

Louis pulls the tomato out of his sandwich as he nods along.
“Yeah?”
Harry refills his glass of wine from the bottle they bought for the
table. “I think I told you that I don’t really care about the finished
piece?”
Louis shakes his head, mouth occupied with his sandwich. “You
said you like the stories behind the art.” Louis remembers that from
one of their first civil conversations on the first day.
“Yeah,” Harry says. “I care about why the artist made the piece and
how it got to where it is but like, technique? I couldn’t care less.
Even in a gallery, I’d want to work on showcasing stories instead of

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brush strokes if that makes sense. Spotlight tortured artists and
ordinary people who were driven to create something.”
His eyes are almost sparkling as he speaks and Louis is nearly
jealous. He loves law and can’t imagine going into anything else
but he doesn’t burn for it the way Harry so clearly feels about art.
“Okay.” Louis wipes his hands on a napkin and reaches for his wine
glass. “What’s your dream then? If you could do anything with
art?”
“Open my own gallery,” Harry says without hesitation. “It would be
amazing to share the art that I love the most, the stories that are my
favorite all in one room together.”
“But?” Louis asks because he knows all dreams are followed with a
modifier.
“You have to be massively rich to open a gallery,” Harry says. He
tops Louis’s glass off with the rest of the bottle. “And I don’t know
if that’s in my future.”
Louis smirks, “Shall we buy lottery tickets on our way out of town?
Maybe you’ll get lucky.”
Harry snorts and shakes his head. “If I can do something I love
without being massively rich, I’ll still be happy.”
“You could marry rich,” Louis says, pursing his lips, and not giving
up easily.
Harry tilts his head back and forth, swirling his glass of wine.
“Could do.” He looks up to meet Louis’s eyes, “You got any rich
friends?” This time Louis laughs at Harry’s joke first.

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They work off their slight buzz from the wine by wandering around
Cuba and following the murals in, what Harry’s says, is the correct
order. They start at the Civil War and work up through Amelia
Earhart and World War II, each mural more vivid than the last but in
a different and more compelling way than the life-like murals at the
sign museum in Illinois.

“It’s the people,” Harry says when Louis mentions it.

They’re in front of a wall depicting a battle and retreating troops,
fire burning up behind the horses as the soldiers shade their faces
from the heat Louis can almost feel from the way it has been
painted.
“The other ones were stationary places but these are actual
humans.” Harry touches the wall, his hand small compared to the
faces depicted. “You can read their emotions and then feel it in a
visceral way instead of passive.”
Louis’s lips twitch before he gives into a smile. “I feel like I’m in an
art history lecture.” Harry blushes as he takes a photo of the mural
with his camera. “Sorry,” he mutters.
“Don’t be,” Louis says, watching Harry take the picture and then
check it through the screen on the back. “You aren’t supposed to
apologize for the things you love.”
Harry snorts and starts to go toward the next mural. Louis follows.
“Louis, tell me, have you ever found that to be actually true?”
Louis nearly misses a step at the question. It’s easy to lie and just
say that he has but there are memories swatting him upside the
stomach at Harry’s words. The strongest one is of him being sixteen
and coming out to his grandparents, the way a quick, “Sorry,”
slipped out after he said, “I’m gay.” His throat tickles at the

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memory, the shame, and if Harry notices, he doesn’t say. There’s no
way he could know - could read Louis’s thoughts swirling angrily
through his brain. Louis shakes it off.
“You shouldn’t have to apologize for the things you love,” he
amends, voice tighter than he intends.

Harry smiles, oblivious. “I agree.”

They come across a multi-colored building with the roof made of
colored tiles and they both stop and stare, Harry’s camera clicking
away.
“It looks like something from Candyland,” Louis comments, taking
a picture with his phone too.

“All of it does,” Harry says, spinning around slowly.

Louis follows his gaze and realizes they’ve entered an entire street
of colored buildings and brightly colored cars - the way actual Cuba
looks in the movies. They pass through that to a gas station covered
in antique signs and then they’re standing in front of the world’s
largest rocking chair according to a giant sign sitting next to it. It’s
painted in electric red and looming over all of the other buildings.
“Oh my god,” Louis says as they stare up at it. “I can’t believe you
tricked me into seeing another giant monument. This is worse than
the ketchup.”
Harry laughs and adjusts his sunglasses. “I promise you, I didn’t
know that was here.”
Louis gives him a doubtful look. “Yeah, sure.” He holds out his
hands, “Give me the camera so you can get a picture in front of the
giant chair.”

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Harry keeps laughing and shakes his head, “I don’t want a picture
of me and the chair.”
“Yeah, you do.” Louis takes the camera from Harry’s hands himself
and nudges Harry forward.
“Go on. Another gaudy monument you’ve been dreaming of
seeing.”
The picture is ridiculous and Harry is smiling so hard his eyes are
shut but Louis makes him swear he won’t delete it.
“I mean it,” he says when Harry promises begrudgingly. “One day
I’ll start a blog called Harry and
Giant Things and this will be the front page.”
“You’re terrible,” Harry says, shaking his head, laughter still
bubbling from him every couple of seconds. “You don’t want a
chair picture?”

“Definitely not,” Louis says as they start walking away.

It’s quiet for a moment and when Louis looks over his shoulder,
it’s just in time to see Harry lifting the camera and taking a picture
of him. “I’ll start a secondary blog called ‘Louis in Places He
Hates’ and this will be the first photo,” Harry says, turning the
camera so Louis can see the shot.
Louis actually laughs as he looks at the picture, the bright colored
building behind him, the way his mouth is halfway open like he was
about to say something. “Good,” he says as Harry takes the camera
back. “I’ve always wanted to be a social media star.”

*
Their afternoon is a four hour drive across Missouri with a lot of
dried up fields sprinkled between greener trees. They pass the time

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with music at first and then they play I Spy which is increasingly
difficult as the land gets more barren. Harry suggests the license
plate game but that falls flat as well because, “Everyone is fucking
from Missouri,” Louis grumbles. Eventually he falls asleep in the
passenger seat and lets Harry pass the time on his own. It’s not an
intentional nap but the road is smooth and the sun is warm - it’s all
but inevitable.
Louis wakes up when they’re in Springfield and he actually rubs his
eyes to make sure the skyscrapers and two yellow cabs out the
window aren’t a mirage. “Oh my god, a city,” he says with his face
pressed to the window.
Harry chuckles lowly as he curves through the back streets. “First
one since Chicago, I think.”
“I’ve never been so happy to not see a corn field in my life,” Louis
says as passionately as he can manage with a hand over his heart.
Harry has sunglasses on but Louis is pretty sure he rolls his eyes.
“We haven’t seen a cornfield since we left Illinois, Lou.”
Louis doesn’t really have a response for that. “Are we stopping?”
He asks as they pass through two green lights and the city starts
looking sparse on either side of him. He’s not sure Springfield,
Missouri is an actual metropolitan mecca to begin with.

Harry shakes his head, “Uh, no.”

“Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously.” Harry licks his bottom lip, “I grew up in
Chicago,
I go to school in LA. I know city life.”

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Louis groans, “That doesn’t make it a crime.” He falls back against
the seat and scowls. “I can’t believe you’re going to punish me with
more corn fields.”
Harry’s eyebrows raise over the edge of his sunglasses. “Soy beans
are actually the top growing crop in Missouri.”
“Fascinating,” Louis deadpans. “If you take me on a soybean plant
tour, I swear to god I will hitch hike the rest of the way.”
Harry’s laughter is even louder in the silence as the song on the
stereo ends and the next begins quietly. “I wouldn’t be able to tell
you what a soybean plant looked like if it hit me in the face.”
*
“I have something to tell you,” Harry says once the city fades
completely and open fields overtake the sides of the road again.

“Okay,” Louis says slowly, unsure what is going to happen next.

“We’re not staying in a hotel tonight,” he says quickly.

“Okay,” Louis says, processing. He’s actually surprised they’ve
stayed in hotels each night thus far - he’d half thought they’d be
driving non-stop through the mid-west in pursuit of the Pacific
Ocean so he’s definitely not complaining about the comfortable
beds they’ve gotten each night.
“That’s okay?” Harry sounds unsure, like Louis is a loose cannon
bound to shoot off at any moment.
“Sure, H.” Louis stretches his legs in the cramped front seat
and pulls on the hem of his shorts. “I’m just along for the ride.”
Harry snorts and then laughs and Louis smirks. He may be a little
more vocal than “along for the ride” would suggest.

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“We do get to sleep tonight, right?” Louis asks. He’s not exactly a
pleasure to be around when he’s running on little to no sleep.
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Harry clears his throat, “We’re going to
Carthage where there’s a historic drive in movie theater.”
“Sick,” Louis says, meaning it.
Harry nods, “Yeah. But for like, an extra fee, you can just camp in
your car in the lot overnight. The fee was twenty bucks when I
checked which saves us some money from getting a hotel room.”
He trails off like he’s run out of the things to say.
“We’re sleeping in the Jeep, then?” Louis casts a weary glance back
toward the piles of stuff in the back of the car.
“I have a plan,” Harry says as the Google Maps lady leads him to
take an exit off the highway.
“Of course you do,” Louis says with his voice on the edge of
teasing.
“I packed blankets and pillows because I was planning on this,”
Harry says. “So we can pile all of our bags in the backseat and sleep
in the trunk. It’s wider and flatter than making the front seats go
back.” He finishes and looks over at Louis expectantly, either
gunning for an argument or waiting for approval.
Louis shrugs, “Sounds good to me.” He twists his neck to check the
back area again. It’s going to be a tight squeeze. “What movies are
playing anyway?”
“I don’t exactly know,” Harry says, slowing the car and steering
toward a white billboard propped on hay bales that says ‘66 DriveIn
Theatre’ in bold red lettering.

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They’re one of the earlier cars to arrive at the drive-in so Harry gets
a spot in the second row, turning the Jeep around so they’ll be able
to sit in the back and see the show when they let the hatch up.
There’s a sign with the movie schedule just under the screen and
they both have to squint to see it.
“Does that say Notting Hill?” Louis asks when they get out, taking
a couple steps closer to get his eyes to focus.

“And DieHard,” Harry says.

“That’s quite the combination,” Louis says as he tries to remember
the plot of Notting Hill. He’s pretty sure he’s watched it with his
mom a handful of times.
“Notting Hill is one of my favorite movies ever,” Harry says
confidently as he turns to head toward the back of the car.

“Well, yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker,” Louis says, grinning.

Harry stops and abruptly turns around. “Excuse me?”

Louis feels himself blush under Harry’s offended gaze. “It’s a line
from Die Hard.”
Harry still looks slightly offended even as he nods in understanding.
“I’ve never seen it.” “Clearly,” Louis mutters, following him to the
back of the car to rearrange their belongings.
They move all of their bags to the backseat like Harry had planned
while the sun is just starting to sink in the sky - the light is
definitely helpful in making sure they don’t forget anything on the
grass while they repack.
True to his word, there are a few pillows and a pile of blankets
Harry had packed underneath all of his bags. They lay one blanket

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out over the back area once it’s clear and then line the pillows up
along the back of the seat to lean on. There’s a line of concession
stands where they get street tacos and then they take their shoes off
and climb in the back of the Jeep - the makeshift cocoon they’ve
created.
It takes some slight rearranging so they can actually see the top and
bottom of the screen at the same time and they end up with their
legs pressed together from thighs to ankles in order to make it work.
With an hour before the movie begins, they mostly people watch
and point out people who seem to have trouble parking their car in a
straight fashion.
The sun sets and brings a more relaxing chill over the crowd and
Harry unrolls a blanket to put over their calves and feet just as the
opening titles for the first movie begin.
Louis thinks it’s funny, the quick way he’s gotten to know Harry
just by being forced together in a car. It’s only been four days but,
here they are, three states from home, pressed together in the back
of a Jeep and watching a romantic comedy like they’ve known each
other for so much longer. Louis doesn’t feel like he’s sitting with a
stranger and he doesn’t get mad when Harry rearranges his deer
legs and accidentally kicks him. He just kicks him right back and
they both laugh quietly before settling again. Maybe it should be a
little scary and overwhelming too.

*
Harry is definitely teary eyed once the movie ends but when he
wipes his thumbs under his eyes, Louis pretends not to see. For
some reason, it’s not surprising that Harry is the emotional one out
of the two of them.

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“So that’s your favorite?” Louis asks once Harry has dropped his
hands from his face.
“I think so,” he says. “I watch a lot of romantic comedies actually
so it can be hard to have an ultimate favorite. Like, Pretty Woman
and The Notebook are up there. There’s a really emotional movie
called Like Crazy I watch when I want to cry.” He looks surprised
he’s said that much as he stares at Louis with wide eyes. “On that
note,” he says, quickly, “I’m going to take a piss. I’ll be back.”
Louis laughs and nods in a haze of confusion as Harry scrambles to
get out of the back of the car.
Once Harry comes back, Louis takes his turn at the bathroom and
buys a couple of bottles of water from the concession stand on his
walk back. He gets a pack of Skittles for them to share which seems
to please Harry as they get situated again. There’s a short
intermission between the two movies and Louis notices some
people leaving already, others pulling their cars closer to the front.
Something about the first movie has left Louis feeling lighter which
is probably the marketing strategy for romantic comedies anyway.
Though, admittedly, he doesn’t indulge as often as Harry suggests
he does.
“That always makes me want to fall in love,” Harry says. He turns
so his back is against the side of trunk and his feet are by Louis’s
hip in a mirrored position across from him.

Louis snorts and rolls his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m serious,” Harry says, barely smiling. “Anytime I watch a
movie like that, it makes you forget all the bull shit of being in a
relationship and just want to get back to the romance of it all.” He

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must see the disbelief on Louis’s face when he adds, “You don’t
feel like that?”
“Not exactly, no.” Louis isn’t sure how deep into a confession
they’re about to go but he kind of takes a dive off the deep end.
“I’ve never found relationships to be particularly happy.”
Harry doesn’t seem to judge him when he nods. “So you’ve never
been in love?”
Louis laughs at the blunt question. “I have. Only once, I think.
Nothing else really came close.” He rubs his lips together, deciding
how much to say.
“Who were they?” Harry asks. There’s no judgement in his voice
and Louis can’t help the flutter in his stomach at noticing Harry’s
pronoun use.
“His name was Aaron,” Louis says just as he realizes he’s officially
come out to Harry now. No going back. “We were seventeen and
seniors in high school. He was my first real boyfriend - the reason I
knew I was very, very gay,” he says.

“What was he like?” Harry asks softly.

“Not very nice,” Louis says just as quietly. He glances down at his
hands and then back up to Harry. “Not very nice in the end.” The
way it went down still lingers in his mind sometimes - even four
years past. Aaron’s parents giving him an ultimatum about being
gay, Aaron pulling away from Louis without explanation, Aaron
dating a girl named Kaitlyn a month later. Louis thought they were
in love - Finding out the opposite was true was life shattering in its
own special way.
“I’m sorry,” Harry says, holding Louis’s gaze in a way that makes

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Louis think he gets it in a way most people don’t. Louis looks away
first.
“I’ve kind of stayed away from relationships since him,” Louis
says, trying to brighten his tone. They’re on a summer road trip at a
drive-in movie - it’s not the time for a fucking sob story. “It’s
worked out so far.”

Harry smirks, “You’re a love them and leave them guy now?”
Louis tilts his head and clicks his tongue, “A respectful boy never
kisses and tells.” Harry smiles and looks away, his eyes lingering
out over the front row of cars.
“What about you?” Louis can’t help his curiosity, “What’s your
love story?”
Harry looks back and his smile fades. “I always thought I’d been in
love with a lot of people but it turns out I’ve really only been in
love once.” He licks his lip, “A guy,” he says before Louis can ask.
“I identify as bi but it’s only been guys for a while now.”
Louis nods, impressed at Harry’s ease and confidence in something
that was probably easier to work out in his head than to say out
loud.
Harry clears his throat and scratches his neck - fidgeting again. “I
fall for the wrong people,” Harry says. “And I always fall too hard.
This guy, Matt, god, I thought he had hung the moon and the stars
just for me.” His laugh is a little bitter before he speaks again.
“Loving him, being in love with him, was an all-consuming
tornado,” he says. “I came out on the other side and I didn’t know
up from down but I knew I was alone.”

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Louis can see Harry’s struggle to get the words out and it only
peaks his curiosity more. Who this Matt guy could be - what the
fuck he did to Harry to make him lose control.
“It took me a long time to figure it out after him,” Harry says. “Up
from down and left from right.
It was re-learning what I thought I knew. I lost myself.”
Louis is completely lost himself, but it’s like Harry isn’t talking to
him anymore, just talking to himself.
“Sometimes, I think I’ve found myself again,” he says slowly. “But
some days I think I’m still working on it”
There’s not a chance to say anything else as the spotlights over the
parking lot suddenly go out and DieHard begins with a rattling
explosion. Louis sees Harry jump in the light from the screen and it
makes his stomach flutter oddly. Harry had been in a different place
just then, when they were talking. He clearly wasn’t across from
Louis anymore but the movie has brought him back.
Louis moves back to the spot he was in for Notting Hill and Harry
follows, their backs pressed against the back of the backseat, thighs
and knees touching. Harry is stiff next to Louis and he’s not sure
what he can do to help him, how to get him back from wherever it
is he’s gone. The only thing he can do is unfurl the blanket over
their legs and breathe evenly - hope Harry catches his start.
Harry didn’t say when his relationship with Matt started or ended
but Louis can almost sense it was pretty recent. The way Harry
looks like he’s seen a ghost is the way Louis used to feel talking
about Aaron. He controls it better now, absorbs the emotion instead
of playing it out on his face but it took some time. Like Harry said,
maybe he’s still working on it.

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As he is ought to do, Louis forgets about Harry as he draws himself
into the drama of Bruce Willis’s world - the explosions and action
scenes keeping his heart pounding. He jumps when he feels Harry
move next to him but settles when he realizes it’s only Harry’s head
on his shoulder. In the beat when he realizes it should be shocking
to him - Harry’s head on his shoulder - he hears Harry’s stuttered
breathing and realizes he’s fallen asleep. The first thing he
happened to do while unconscious is lean toward Louis.
Louis pulls the blanket higher around them both and then lets Harry
sleep, the warm weight and soft breathing like a comfort even this
far from home.

DAY FIVE

Carthage, Missouri
Light pours into the car without restriction - the widest window on
the back of the Jeep acting like an unfiltered spotlight. Louis
scrunches his eyes to make it go away but it doesn’t really work and
only makes him realize how sore his body is from being folded all
night, the crick in his neck from a too soft pillow. He begrudgingly
opens his eyes to Harry’s socked feet in his face and pulls back
slightly. He knows his feet are by Harry’s head but it doesn’t make
it any better.
They’d arranged long-ways in the back of the car once Die Hard
had finished, carefully wrapping in their own blankets and lining
the extra pillows down the center so they wouldn’t accidentally
touch. It was all very scientific in their cramped space even if Harry
had fallen back asleep while Louis was still trying to establish
boundaries.

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Boundaries definitely don’t amount to comfort, Louis realizes now -
too little too late. His body is stiff in ways it wasn’t after sleepovers
as a kid, when sleeping on the floor was second nature and far more
exciting than an actual bed.
Louis is careful as he crawls up over the backseat and lets himself
out the back door. He slips on his shoes before he drops onto the
dewy grass, a rush of cold morning air racing toward him like
summer camp mornings. He shuts the door to the Jeep softly,
hopeful some of their body warmth will be left over to let Harry
sleep.
There are a couple other car doors opening around him as people
wake up and emerge from their makeshift camp zones. Louis
stretches his hands overhead and hears his back bubble and pop as
he twists. It’s all kinds of satisfying.
He wanders off toward the public restroom and then sees a
concession stand has been opened with coffee and donuts. He
checks his pocket for his wallet and buys two cups of coffee and
two pastries.
“What time is it?” He asks the girl who takes his money, a nose
piercing shimmering in the morning light.

“Just after six,” she says as Louis moves out of the way.
“Fuck,” he breathes as he walks away with wide eyes. It’s
practically the middle of the night.
Harry is awake when Louis comes back, sitting on their nest of
blankets with the back hatch of the Jeep open and a blank look on
his face.
“This is awful,” he says when Louis is close enough to hear him.

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His voice is scratchy and his eyes are red - looking exactly how
Louis feels. “I’m so achy.”
“Let me add to the pain by saying it’s only six in the morning,”
Louis says with a smile as Harry grimaces. “But I also bought
coffee and donuts, so things may be looking up.”
They sit together in the back of the Jeep as they drink their coffee
and eat the donuts, Harry staring blankly when Louis licks the
excess frosting from each of his fingers. It’s mostly quiet around
them, everyone too sleepy to do much else but pack their cars or
have some caffeine. Louis can imagine chatting with people about
whether or not they’re on road trips too, where they’re headed next
and what they’re doing - but he doesn’t actually want to leave the
warmth of Harry’s side. So, he doesn’t.
They leave less than an hour later after Harry uses the restroom and
they repack the car in some semblance of the way it was done
originally. They play rock paper scissors to see who is going to
drive for the next leg and Harry loses.
Louis smiles sweetly when he groans and promises he’ll stay awake
to help navigate. He’s pretty sure he falls asleep before they’ve
even left the drive-in parking lot.

*
When Harry stops the car in Foyil, Oklahoma nearly two hours
later, Louis thinks he’s in a bad dream. Totem Pole Park is filled
with totem poles as large as small buildings with funky designs and
a few threatening faces.
“What the fuck are we supposed to do with them?” Louis asks as
soon as Harry secures the parking brake.

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Harry’s laugh is light as he shrugs. “Walk around and look, I guess?
Stretch our legs?”
Louis undoes his seatbelt in slow motion. Nothing about Totem
Pole Park screams excitement, least of all the deserted parking lot
and bored looking attendant in the Visitor Booth.
“It’ll be excellent content for the blog you’re starting,” Harry says,
opening his door. “Harry and Giant Things, was it?”
Louis laughs, barely remembering what he had planned to call his
imaginary blog. “I think I might need to come up with a new
name,” Louis muses, getting out of the car as well. “It might get
flagged as pornography with a name like that.”
Harry rolls his eyes, looping his camera around his neck. “You can
brainstorm names while we walk around,” he says with a smile.
Louis rolls his own eyes in response.
Walking around is a welcome change from being in the car, Louis
admits begrudgingly. And though the totem poles are mostly odd
and starting to become antiqued, it is interesting to watch the grass
climb up the sides and read the historic blurbs every once in awhile.
Louis even offers to take a picture of Harry with the biggest one
they come across - nearly eighty feet tall. It’s only as they’re
walking back to the Jeep that Louis realizes Harry has been taking
pictures of him too subtle ones he doesn’t even realize except for
the faded and dull clicking of the shutter every once in awhile.

“I think we’re lost.”

Louis glances over to Harry who had been asleep all of two minutes
ago - or so he thought. “We’re not,” he says. He points to where his

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phone is stationed in its holder next to the stereo. “The map says
we’re on the right path.”
Harry sits up in his seat and looks out the window. To be fair, they
do look like they’re in the middle of nowhere which isn’t very
reassuring. But Louis has followed each direction as it’s been given
to him; something Harry clearly doesn’t believe as he plucks
Louis’s phone from the holder and pulls it closer to his face.
“We’re supposed to be on 66,” Harry says, dragging his finger on
the screen to zoom in on the map. “Which is a highway. This is
definitely a back road.”
Granted, Louis saw a tractor a couple miles back and the grass
fields are encroaching on the asphalt in a significant fashion, but
there’s no way they’re on the wrong path.

“Have you been to Oklahoma?” Louis asks, looking over.

“What does that matter?” Harry asks a bit incredulously.

“Because you don’t know what this portion of Highway 66 looks
like and this could very well be it.”
“It’s not,” Harry says. “There’s no way this is a highway.” “Close-
minded much?” Louis rolls his eyes. “We’re not in Chicago
anymore, Dorothy.”
“Shut up,” Harry snaps, going back to studying the phone. “You’re
not helping.”
“Helping?” Louis shakes his head and motions around. “There’s
nothing to be helped. The map told me to go this way and so I did.
Just because it doesn’t fit the phony image of Highway 66 in your
delusional mind, doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

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“I’m not delusional.” Harry’s voice goes slightly louder and then he
shakes his head.
Louis bites down on a sarcastic remark. “How far does it say we
are?”
“Twenty minutes,” Harry says begrudgingly. “But there’s no way
that’s right.”
Louis raises his eyebrows primly, “How about you wait twenty
minutes and if we don’t come across it, you can start complaining
again. Save your breath in the meantime.”
“I’m not complaining,” Harry says in an aggressive voice that
sounds a lot like complaining to Louis. “I’m just saying that I think
we are going the wrong way and I personally don’t want to be
stranded in Oklahoma when we run out of road.”
“This isn’t the Oregon Trail,” Louis says. “We’re not going to run
out road or float our wagon across a river. Don’t worry.”
“You are so annoying.” Harry puts the phone back in the cup holder
nearest Louis and looks back out the window.
They’re passing a field of cows and it’s not an encouraging sign that
they’re not lost so Louis pretends not to notice. Harry definitely
notices. “You think there’s going to be a herd of cows outside a
landmark cafe?”
“Yes,” Louis says confidently. “It’s probably atmospheric.” Harry
actually snorts and Louis rolls his eyes. “Seriously? Like that’s not
so out of the scheme of all the other shit you’ve chosen for us to
visit so far?”
“Back to this, really?” Harry runs his hands through his hair, clearly
frustrated. “Right when I think we’re actually doing okay, you have
to be a complete asshole.”

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Louis can bicker with the best of them, and he knows he could
easily go back and forth with Harry until they really are stranded in
Oklahoma, so he does his best to bite his tongue. “I apologize,” he
says slowly. “I’m just as frustrated as you are and running on a
donut from four hours ago is doing nothing for my mood.”
He stays staring straight ahead but he sees Harry fishmouthing in
the corner of his eye before Harry presses his lips together and
relaxes back into his seat. He clearly didn’t expect Louis to show
anything close to an apology in his hand of cards.
“It’s okay,” Harry says finally, quieter than everything else from the
last few minutes. “I shouldn’t blame you. It’s not like you’ve been
to Oklahoma either.” He clears his throat, “I am having a good time
with you. Despite how it might seem.”
Louis definitely didn’t expect that and his hands tense on the wheel
at Harry’s words. “I’m having fun too,” he manages. “Despite how
it might seem.”
Harry smiles briefly at Louis’s word choice, and Louis winks before
looking back at the road. It’s like they’ve come to some sort of
agreement though Louis can’t be sure what it is they’re agreeing on.
Twenty minutes later, they’re still in the field of cows and Harry is
clearly vibrating with the need to point it out. It’s no help when the
Maps voice echoes through the car, “You have arrived. Your
destination is on the right.”
Louis slows the Jeep and glances to the right, just in case. He’s met
with a blank stare from Harry and a blank stare from a cow just
beyond his shoulder who has taken interest in the car where it’s
definitely not supposed to be.

Louis clears his throat and glances away, “Harry?”

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“Louis.” Harry’s voice is flat but Louis can hear the edge of a laugh
over it. “I think we might be lost.”

*
It turns out Route 66 runs parallel to Quackback Road with a mile
between them. So, technically, Louis was driving the right direction
but a few thousand feet to the wrong side. Or, that’s what he tries to
explain to Harry when they’re walking inside Pops 66 Soda Ranch -
a legendary gas station and cafe off of the old Route 66.
“That’s like showing up an hour late to an interview and saying you
were in the wrong building.”

“Exactly,” Louis says, smirking. “A valid excuse.”

Pops 66 Soda Ranch definitely doesn’t belong in a field of cows.
The modern building is lit up with neon signs and a bottle shaped
sign that is over sixty feet tall because, as Louis is learning, nothing
truly exists without something else massive to mark to spot.
Inside, there are refrigerators running both lengths of the side-walls,
all filled with different bottles of soda. There are over 700 varieties
from coffee flavored to grape and Louis gets a kick out of
Harry pointing to each new one he spots and gasping. “How is
hazelnut root beer even good?” and “Do you think Rocket
Mountain Loveland Lemon Lime does something to your sex
drive?” He laughs about Rocket Fizz in a variety flavors and gags
over all grape-related flavors.
They build their own six-packs from the various bottles and then
order lunch. Or, Louis eats while Harry takes photos of every
possible display until Louis threatens to leave him if he doesn’t
come back and actually eat his food. Harry flips him off and takes a
too-big bite of his hamburger he ends up choking on. Louis calls it

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karma when Harry has to clear his throat by drinking the only soda
left on the table - Louis’s grape flavored Rocket Fizz.

*
They almost get lost, again, on the way to Oklahoma City and end
up bickering back and forth all over again - the earlier truce they’d
made in the cow field already fading.
“If you would have some faith in me for one fucking second,”
Louis says loudly over Harry’s complaint of him not following the
map and making his own path.
Louis is wildly smug when he sees the sign for the city limits up
ahead and points at it silently until Harry looks at it, too. Harry’s
cheeks turn pink but this time he doesn’t apologize.
They end up in Bricktown - the entertainment district as Harry so
diligently noted in his itinerary journal. Louis isn’t confident what
kind of entertainment Harry is planning for them so he’s pleased to
find a string of bars and restaurants in a relatively modern part of
the city. Louis is so excited to be back in a city and not just passing
through, he actually smiles.
They get a room at the Hilton Garden Inn which Louis regrets
following Harry’s immediate jokes about not seeing any gardens
nearby. Louis just hands his credit card to the front desk attendant
who is helplessly charmed by Harry’s comedic prowess and keeps
smiling after them as they go to the elevators.
“I can’t believe you just planned for just a night to go out,” Louis
says once they’re in the room, air conditioning turned up too high in
true Harry fashion.
“Why is that so surprising?” Harry asks as he pulls open the zipper
on his bag and starts filtering through his clothes.

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You don’t seem fun seems too cruel to say so Louis shrugs. “You
don’t seem like you would enjoy going out.”

Harry stops digging through his bag. “I don’t seem fun?”

Somehow Harry’s uncanny ability to read Louis’s thoughts is still
lingering. “That’s not what I said.”

“You implied it,” Harry said. “And I resent your implication.”

Louis tries not to laugh and fails, falling back on the bed and
sighing in the white down cloud of softness - a helpless and happy
cry from last night’s bedroom. “Harry Styles, you make me want a
drink.”
Harry gapes at him but doesn’t seem able to come up with a good
response as he huffs off to the bathroom. Louis is worried he’s
locked himself in but then he hears the shower start and sighs into
the bed again. A shower and a beer all sound heavenly, he thinks, as
his eyes drift shut.

*
Waking up to Harry Styles half-naked and wet is not part of Louis’s
heaven but he considers adding it immediately.
When Louis opens his eyes from the nap he didn’t mean to take,
Harry is only wearing a towel. It’s just like their very first night as
he sorts through the clothes in his bag and Louis definitely stares.
There’s just something about water glistening over the edges of his
arms and making his tattoos shinier, his hair falling into his face
and the muscles in his back gliding as he pulls out a pair of jeans
followed by a shirt.
Louis stays perfectly still when Harry looks up, their eyes meeting
across the room in a way that tells him Harry knew he was staring

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all along. They both hold eye contact silently, Harry blinking
slowly. Louis clears his throat and stands up quickly - flustered in a
way he’s not used to being.
“I’m going to shower,” he mutters, darting to the bathroom and
closing the door with more force than is wholly necessary.
He stands with his back to the door and feels the flutter of his heart
in his chest - the way it’s less like a butterfly and more like a herd
of antelope.

“Why?” He whispers with a hand over his chest, “Why?”

He’s talking to his heart but he’s asking himself, full well knowing
he doesn’t have an answer.
Harry is annoying and a bit of a brat, he thinks he’s right eighty
percent of the time and is bossy in a way only younger siblings
can be. He clearly has control issues and a dredged up relationship
he doesn’t want to deal with - baggage Louis doesn’t really want
to deal with either. But.
Louis presses his fingernails into his palm when he thinks of Harry
on the roller coaster - the way he made himself do it and held
Louis’s hand, the way he admitted he was wrong. He thinks of
Harry loving romantic comedies and falling asleep during Die
Hard - falling asleep on Louis during Die Hard. He flattens his
hand against his chest when he thinks of Harry’s stupid jokes and
annoying itinerary - the way he doesn’t mind wasting a day taking
pictures and smiles like he’s got a secret.
“Oh my god,” Louis says, dropping his head against the door and
sighing. “Oh my fucking god.” “What?”
Louis jumps as he hears Harry’s muffled voice outside the door. He
turns around and cracks it open, his heart beating wildly for an

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entirely different reason now. “What?” He opens the door a little
further when he realizes Harry is standing in the hallway between
the bathroom and main area of the room. “What do you want?”
“I heard you talking?” Harry says hesitantly, eyes flicking away as
he clearly realizes he may have been eavesdropping.
Louis’s eyes drop down to Harry’s legs because the towel is gone
and now he’s only in a pair of black jeans that hug his thighs and
are still unbuttoned because he clearly ran to help Louis when he
heard him talking to himself
“I wasn’t,” Louis lies easily, eyes lingering a beat too long on
Harry’s toned stomach and then meeting his eyes. “I wasn’t,” he
repeats.
Harry nods and wanders away, leaving Louis trying to catch his
breath again as he slips back inside the bathroom and closes the
door quietly.
“Get it together,” he says, this time in a whisper. He flips on the
shower and pulls his shirt over his head.
Harry Styles really, really, makes him want a drink.

*
Bricktown is lit up by the time they come out of the Hilton Garden
Inn - strands of lights strung from one end of the street to another, a
canal that looks European shimmering along a side street. Louis can
barely focus on admiring the sights - far more interested in heading
for the nearest bar.
He’s seen Harry in jeans, jean shorts, leggings and sweatpants over
the past few days. He’s worn tank tops, sweatshirts, t-shirts with

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holes, Nike running shoes and athletic sliders. Louis, however, has
not seen Harry wear anything like he’s pulled on for tonight.
The jeans are the same - less holes, maybe - but they seem tighter,
like they’re newer than his others. The boots are definitely new -
golden and shiny with a bit of a heel that has done wonders for
Harry’s already long legs. As if Louis could focus on his legs, that
is. He’s wearing a completely sheer top to complete the ensemble
and that, more than the boots or the jeans, is making Louis need
alcohol. It’s not like he’s never seen a sheer shirt but there’s
something about it that seems teasing on Harry - like it’s a shirt he
wears to go out to bars when he plans to get laid, like it’s a shirt
other people enjoy taking off of him.
Louis actually has to shake his head as that thought curves in his
mind. For some reason, tonight is getting to him, Harry is getting to
him, and he refuses to let it happen.
“This is a strip club,” Harry says as Louis reaches for the door of
the first bar he sees. Or, what he thinks is a bar.

He pauses at Harry’s words and glances up at the sign: Chix on Dix.

Louis drops his hand and turns around, heading back to the street.
“I didn’t say we couldn’t go,” Harry says, following after him
quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I was just pointing it out.”
Louis stops and turns to face Harry. “Harry, I am very, very gay.”
Harry blinks but doesn't say anything.
“A place called Chix on Dix is like, physically painful to my
wellbeing.”
This time Harry laughs as they start walking again, whatever
reservations he’d had about Louis being offended fading away.

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The next closest place is Bricktown Brewery which serves as a
good starting point. They order a pitcher of beer to share and split a
plate of onion rings on the back patio, listening as the nightlife
starts to rev up around them.
“When I think of Oklahoma, this is definitely not what comes to
mind,” Louis says. In his humble and terribly honest opinion, he’d
imagined a lot of farmers, a lot more cow fields like the one they
got lost in earlier.
“Definitely.” Harry smacks his lips after a sip of beer. “The cows
were peak Oklahoma. Or, what I imagined to be peak Oklahoma.”
“Exactly.” Louis splits an onion ring in half and takes a bite.
Harry grabs the other half of the onion ring and bites into it with a
smile. “I used to think I’d enjoy living in the country.”
Louis looks pointedly under the table at Harry’s boots and then
back to his face. “Oh, did you?”
“Yes,” Harry drawls with a smile. “I did. I thought it seemed like a
peaceful way of life. Very relaxing.”
“Then what happened?” Louis takes another onion ring and drags it
through some ranch sauce. He licks his fingers after he takes the
bite.
“Nothing happened,” Harry says with a shrug. “I just grew out of it,
I guess.”
“I mean, you wanted a peaceful life and then you didn’t?” Louis
raises his eyebrows, “That sounds like something changed.”
Harry shakes his head, half smiling. “No, really. I think I was
equating peace to the place instead of it belonging with the people
I’m around. Do you know what I mean?”

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Louis tilts his head back and forth, weighing. He can kind of see
where Harry is going.
“I mean -” He’s cut off by his phone vibrating against his beer, the
sound muffling when he pulls the phone away from the glass.
“Sorry,” he says, glancing at Louis.
“Feel free to take it,” Louis says. He picks up his beer and finishes
it.
Harry glances at his phone and, for a moment, Louis thinks he’s
going to answer but then he just sets it face down on the table.
“Where was I?”
“Discussing world peace,” Louis says. He fills his glass from the
pitcher and tops Harry’s off.
Harry rolls his eyes. “What I meant is that I don’t need a lake to be
peaceful or happy if I surround myself with people or experiences
who give me the same feelings. It’s like that home without a house
as long as you’re in love thing.”
“Ah, yes, that thing,” Louis teases, smiling over the edge of his
glass. “I forgot you’re a romantic.”
Harry juts out his chin and turns his head to the side. “Is that really
a romantic thing?”
“You’d give up four walls and a roof just to be with the person you
love.”
Harry laughs and his eyes light up with it. “That’s not what I said!
Or, what I meant, I guess. I mean that you don’t have to have a
mansion and a picket fence to be happy.”
“Thank god,” Louis drawls. “I never wanted a picket fence to begin
with.”

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“You need love,” Harry speaks over him without raising his voice.
“Love makes the world go around and as long as there’s love in the
world, there can be happiness.”
Louis grabs the edges of his chair and looks around startled. He
puts a hand over his heart when
Harry narrows his eyes at him. “I thought we’d gone back to the
seventies there for a minute.”
Harry doesn’t respond as he finishes his beer, but there’s a smile on
his lips when he says, “Ready to go? I need a shot of something.”

*
Louis has a story about pink drinks. It starts with him as a brand
new freshman at University of Southern California and having an
odd Midwestern twist on his words from growing up in Illinois. The
middle of the story is something like flirting with a boy who loved
the way he talked, both of them sipping on a thick pink concoction
that tasted like Malibu. The ending of the story is Louis puking all
over the very cute boy who liked his accent all because of the pink
concoction that tasted like Malibu. The moral of his story has
always been to stay away from pink drinks. But when Harry Styles
buys him a shot called a Pink Panty Dropper in a club converted
from a 1900’s horse stall - he downs it so quickly it almost makes
the world spin.
“I’ve lost track of how many we’ve had,” Louis says as Harry takes
his own, extraordinarily pink shot. It's sweet - too sweet - and
they’re definitely going to need tequila to follow it up. That’s how
Louis’s mind works when he can’t remember how many shots he’s
taken and there’s a handsome boy with gold boots and a see through
shirt in front of him - always more tequila.

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“Too many,” Harry says, his lips red and shiny, his cheeks dancing
quickly to pink.
Club15 drew them in with loud bass though Louis has never been
much of a dancer. They were escorted to a booth on a balcony over
the dance floor and that may be the reason they’ve stayed so long.
They started with a shot of tequila each and then they got creative -
Slippery Nipples, Wisconsin Lunchboxes and Tic-Tac shots until
the world started to get a bit blurry and everything started to sound
hilarious.
Case in point - Harry’s phone that keeps vibrating from messages
and texts.
“It’s like Grand Central Station,” Louis muses at one point as Harry
gets three calls in a row.
“It’s not,” Harry grumbles as he flips the phone again. He keeps
flipping it face down but it keeps ending up turned the other way.
Louis is pretty sure Harry is the one doing it but he keeps missing
whenever it happens.
At one point Louis thinks it vibrates for a full minute and he has to
stop their conversation of what drinks to buy next just to stare at it.

“Stop,” Harry says, pushing the phone away. “Do you like rum?”
“Not a big rum fan,” Louis says with his eyes fixed on the phone.
“Are you sure there’s not an emergency?”
Harry shakes his head. “No emergency. If I buy you a rum drink in
a coconut, does that change your mind about rum?”
Louis forgets the phone to look at Harry, smiling slowly. “Yes,
actually it does.”

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They end up with coconut drinks with pink umbrellas in them,
twirling around the balcony haphazardly and pausing every once in
awhile to watch the dance floor below.
Louis isn’t actually surprised by how fun Harry is, except for how
he’s incredibly surprised by how fun Harry is now that he’s seeing
him like this. Harry actually has a good sense of humor and he
never runs out of things to talk about. He clearly likes to have a
good time and Louis has the sneaking suspicion it’s been awhile
since he really let himself.
“What if I went down there and just did ballet in the middle of all
those people?” Harry asks with a smile when midnight has already
passed them by.
“I will buy you a drink,” Louis offers, not bothering to ask if
Harry’s done ballet before. It’s not even a good deal since they’ve
been trading drink purchases all night but Harry offers his
condensation-slick hand for a handshake anyway and then he’s
handing Louis his coconut and heading for the stairs to the main
dance floor.
Louis wishes, desperately, he had Harry’s camera as he watches him
weave through the crowd to the center. He keeps getting jostled by
people and Louis counts three separate couples who try to pull him
into their grinding - like he would be a fun flavor to add for the
night. Louis feels a flash of anger at those grabby hands so he takes
a bigger drink from his coconut. Possibly from Harry’s coconut,
he’s not sure which one belongs to whom.
He can’t help his grin when Harry finally makes it to the middle of
the floor and looks up at him, a smile on his flushed face. Louis
raises his eyebrows as if he’s unimpressed and then watches as
Harry lifts his arms over his head in some semblance of a ballet

155
hold, twirling in the center of the floor as bodies writhe against each
other on either side of him.
He’s a terrible ballerina, Louis thinks, but there’s something in the
way he moves, the smile on his face. Louis knows Harry says he’s
shy and that it’s hard to meet strangers but Louis thinks there’s
something hidden inside him. Some ridiculous thing like a light that
makes people stop to watch him, stop to pay attention. He certainly
got Louis’s attention the moment he walked into Niall’s apartment
five days ago.

Five days ago.

The time has whirled by in a rush of tourism but Louis can’t help
thinking of the intimacy that now exists between him and Harry. He
knows that Harry snores and is allergic to bees and always eats the
pickles off his sandwiches first. He’s not even sure he knows that
kind of stuff about the guys he just graduated college with.
Louis watches as Harry The Ballerina tries to balance on one leg
and falls into the writhing masses who don’t take too kindly to his
interruption. Louis stays frozen as Harry apologizes to a guy taller
and wider than him who he has knocked into. Even from the
balcony, Louis sees Harry flash a dimpled grin and then dart
through the crowd toward the stairs.
Louis slips his tongue out his mouth in search of his straw. The day
Harry Styles realizes he’s got starlight in his smile is the day the
whole world is fucked.
Their booth is filled with empty glasses and used bar napkins so
Louis grabs their phones and switches to the next nearest table, both
of their coconuts still in his possession. He doesn’t mean for it to
happen, in fact he doesn’t actually have control over it, when
Harry’s phone lights up in his hand. It’s his gut instinct to look at

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the screen - he is a member of the iPhone generation, after all. It
still probably doesn’t work as an excuse as he stares at the screen -
the calling coming from a contact listed under just the letter ‘M’
with a skull and a hazard sign emoji next to it. The call ends and the
notifications pile on the screen lock screen - all from the same
person. Seven missed calls. Six texts.
Louis isn’t quick enough to put the phone down when he sees Harry
coming, his reflexes aren’t exactly firing on all cylinders when he’s
six - maybe seven - drinks deep. He gets to watch Harry’s smile
drip from his face as he sees Louis looking at his phone, the way he
seems to curve in on himself as he slides into the empty spot
opposite Louis.
“I didn’t mean to look,” Louis offers lamely as Harry takes the
phone back from him.
“But now you know my dirty secret,” Harry offers just as lamely.
He glances at the phone and then locks it, putting it face down.

“M is -”

Harry completes the thought. “Matt, yeah.”

Louis nods and pushes Harry’s coconut - or at least someone’s
coconut - toward him. “Are you still together, or?”
“No, god no,” Harry is quick this time shaking his head. “We’ve
broke up winter of my freshman year. A year and a half now.”
Louis nods as Harry plays with the umbrella on his drink. He’s past
tipsy and not feeling exactly prepared for whatever conversation
they’re having - or going to have. “So he’s calling because?”
“You’re asking a lot of leading questions,” Harry says, calling him
on it. There’s a hint of a smile in his words but nowhere on his face.

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“Have I told you I want to be a lawyer?”
Harry actually smiles before hunching over to take a sip of his
drink. He sits up and wipes his mouth, his gaze dropping to the
table before meeting Louis’s again.

“Matt calls me when he’s drunk sometimes.”

“Okay,” Louis says slowly, his eyes going wide when Harry doesn’t
add anything else. “Why?”
Harry shrugs, “I don’t know. I don’t like, answer his calls.” He
holds up his phone briefly, “Clearly.”

“That wasn’t just on my behalf?” Louis teases, his lips twitching.

Harry shakes his head.

“Do you ever answer?” Louis doesn’t know when his questions will
go too far but Harry takes this one.
“I did a few times.” He rubs his jaw and shrugs, an answer to a
question Louis didn’t ask. “A little bit after we broke up when the
anger kind of settled. He said all this really nice stuff about us
getting back together.” Harry’s eyes narrow and he shakes his head
like he can’t follow his own train of thought. “I believed him. When
he said it would be better if we got back together. One night he told
me to come over right then so we could talk about it.”
Louis swallows, “Did you go?”
“Yes,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. Louis thinks it’s more at himself
than at Louis, thankfully. “I thought he was serious and when I
went to his apartment we like, hooked up.” He rubs his hands over
his face, “I can’t even believe I’m telling you this. Believe me, I
wouldn’t be if I wasn’t drinking from a coconut in Oklahoma City.”

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Louis laughs at how true the statement is. “You don’t have to tell
me anything.” There’s a pause, like Harry’s waiting. “Unless you
want to.”

Harry shrugs again, “It’s kind of cathartic.”

“Okay,” Louis nods, “So you went over there that night?”
Harry nods, picking up the story where he left it. “Yeah, and we
hooked up. It’d been like a month since we officially broke up but I
wasn’t over it. Clearly,” he says with a wave of his hand.
“Hooking up with an ex doesn’t have to mean you want anything
more with them,” Louis says.
“Sometimes it’s just a way to feel close again.”
Harry’s laugh is harsh as he shakes his head. “I could have used
your advice that night. I thought we were getting back together
even though he was drunk and I was an idiot.”
“Harry.” Louis has no idea what else to say but he doesn’t like to
hear anyone refer to themselves as an idiot.
“The next morning, he acted amazed that I was still there. Not
amazed like excited. Amazed like disbelief. He couldn’t believe I
was dumb enough to think there was anything left between us. I
think those were his exact words.”
Louis feels fury like a wave as he bites his back molars and tries to
stay perfectly still. “What a dick,” he says when he feels slightly
more in control of his emotions and doesn’t want to tell Harry the
guy sounds like the worst kind of person.

“Understatement,” Harry says wryly.

“But he keeps calling even now?”

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Harry nods. “Not as often now but still every once in awhile. I
screen it all now.”
“Good.” Louis nods, “You don’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve
you.” Saying it out loud, he realizes how emphatic he sounds and
he takes a drink from his coconut to cover it.
“That’s the thing,” Harry says, leaning forward. “I am happier,
stronger, better now than I was with him. I’m all the things I
couldn’t be in that relationship.” He scratches his hands through his
hair and Louis feels like there’s something in him trying to climb
out, like he’s about to explode right there at the table.
“It’s hard,” Harry says finally. “It’s hard to pick yourself back up
when people break you into pieces.”
Louis holds his breath and he wishes he could figure out why. He
nods along with Harry anyway.
“I’ve worked really hard to put it all back together after him,” Harry
says. His voice is flat but his eyes are shining as he blinks quickly.
“But whenever I see his name on my phone, it’s the worst reminder.
It just makes me remember the way I thought he was everything
and blowing off my friends, and the program I worked my ass off to
get into just to spend time with him. I remember all the ways I fell
in love with him and all the ways I fucked up my own life in the
process. And he wasn’t worth it, is the thing.”
Harry lifts his chin like he’s defiant and Louis isn’t sure how he’s
going to make it through whatever there is left to say. He’s putting
it together - in his own hazy way given his own current state. The
way Harry likes things orderly; the way he sticks to a timeline like
it’s the rule of law. He’s still trying to fit broken pieces back
together. Pieces he gave away and might not have fully gotten back

160
yet - control over something that he thought was good and ended up
tearing him apart.
“I thought he was the love of my fucking life and he knew it,”
Harry says. He half smiles but there’s no happiness there. “To him,
I was only ever a wayward thought and a good lay.”
Louis is clenching his fist around his coconut and he lets go when
he realizes. “And he still calls you? After everything he did, he still
calls?”
Harry nods and he looks sad. For the first time since Louis met him
five days ago, Harry actually looks like something has been taken
from him that he can’t get back. And maybe it’s too many pink
drinks all over again but Louis shakes his head vehemently, and
slams his hand on the edge of the table.

“Oh, fuck that.”

Harry looks completely startled by the outburst, his eyes lighting up
again when Louis starts to stand up. “What are you doing?” He
asks.
Louis isn’t exactly sure he knows what he’s doing but he needs a
way to channel what is running through his veins all of a sudden.
He needs to do something, he needs to make Harry happy again and
if that’s not the most ridiculous drunk thought in his mind at the
moment, he’s not sure what is. Harry is looking at him like he’s lost
his mind and perhaps he has.
“Scoot,” he says, coming to Harry’s side of the booth.
Harry does but he looks like he’s in a hostage situation, eyes weary.
“What are you doing?” He asks again.

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“Unlock this,” he says, holding up the phone and feeling a bit like
he’s about to rob a bank.

Harry rolls his eyes. “No.”

“Yes,” Louis says, turning to face him in the small booth. Their
knees are touching and Louis is about to burst out laughing, his lips
twitching as he tries to control it.
“No.” Harry starts to smile and bite down on it when Louis’s eyes
trace the motion.
“Fine.” Louis pulls the phone back to himself and flips open the
camera. With one swipe of his finger he gets the camera to face
forward and then he leans into Harry for a picture, all within two
seconds. The picture is blurry and certainly not up to Harry’s
photography standards but Louis can generally make out both of
their faces, his smile and Harry’s confused side-eye look.
“What am I supposed to do with that?” Harry asks, his voice going
higher as he looks at Louis.
“You send it to him,” Louis says seriously. “And you says, ‘Fuck
off, I’m busy’.”
There’s a quiet moment and then Harry bursts out laughing, his face
coming scarily close into Louis’s with his eyes squeezed shut and
his mouth open. He goes silent at one point and Louis just stares, a
bit confused and a bit endeared.
“What’s so funny?” He asks quietly, a small smile curving on his
lips.
Harry exhales shakily as he tries to stop laughing, running his
fingers under his eyes and then bursting into another fit of giggles
before he can actually speak. “Nothing. Just like,” he laughs,

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“The way you said that was so serious like a guru

with good advice.” “That is good advice,” Louis

says, a little defensive.

“It’s not,” Harry says, biting his bottom lip over another smile. “It’s
antagonistic and shows his I’m clearly thinking of him when, in
reality, I’m just a bit drunk.”
Louis blinks and shakes his head, lips curling under. “That’s a very
wise decision. I don’t know what I would be doing if he was my ex.
Probably being very antagonistic.”
Harry nods and flips his phone face down on the table. “I’m not
always this wise, you know. I was heartbroken for a good few
months and did some very embarrassing things.”
Louis smirks, trying to imagine. He would love to know what Harry
did and whether it was actually mean-spirited or more like an angry
kitten. He can bicker with Louis for hours on end but Louis isn’t
sure that he can actually imagine Harry being mean. Except the first
day when he blamed the bee sting on Louis - he’ll probably never
get over that.
“You’re not heartbroken anymore?” Louis asks as the second part of
what Harry has said settles in his mind.
Harry sticks his bottom lip out and shakes his head. “No. I don’t
miss him or want him in my life. I’m actually pretty happy, you
know. I’m working on myself and that’s not heartbreak - that’s
something else altogether. The product of a whirlwind of first love
and making sure I protect myself from what happened then.”
Louis shakes his head slowly, smiling. “You’ve thought about this a
lot.”

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Harry smirks. “I’ve had the time.”
The moment changes and Louis has no idea why or how. All he
really knows is that it goes quiet between them, the pulse of the
club still rolling. Louis becomes aware of where their knees and
calves are touching; the way Harry has his arm out along the back
of the booth, their body heat ricocheting in the gap between their
chests.
It is Harry’s eyes that change, too as they roam over Louis’s face
and pause at his mouth, swing back up to meet Louis’s gaze again.
Louis swallows and feels sweat between his shoulder blades, the
nervous twitch of his hands. It feels like something is about to
happen between them, it feels like Harry is about to kiss him. He
inhales slowly, eyes dropping to Harry’s chest and staying there as
he tries to gather himself.
He wouldn’t mind - he realizes in a rush. Maybe it’s the pink drinks
and the coconuts and confessions but he really wouldn’t mind being
kissed by Harry Styles. He blinks and looks back up to Harry’s
eyes, finds Harry looking right back. He sees the intense green and
the gentle sweep of his eyelashes, his shiny red lips and pink
cheeks.
He leans in, so carefully, it’s barely a movement but Harry matches
it in the opposite direction, squishing himself in the back of the
booth fast enough to give Louis whiplash as the closeness between
them is instantly gone, a rush of cool air running between their
bodies.
“I think we should leave,” Harry says, eyes not meeting Louis’s at
all. “I’m tired and we need to get back on the road in the morning.”

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Louis blinks and tries to catch up with what has just happened as he
nods in a daze. “Yeah, let’s go,” he says, sliding back out of the
booth like he’s on autopilot.
Harry gets out right after him, leads the way back through the club.
Louis feels the alcohol more when he walks and he’s already
wondering if he imagined everything that happened back at the
table. He shakes his head and rubs at his eyes as they go out from
the bar into the night, the twinkle lights still shining like a hundred
fairies in the sky.
Harry walks two steps in front of him and all Louis can think is, I
really want to kiss you.

DAY SIX

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

Louis wakes up when it’s still dark. All he can focus on is the
throbbing in his head, the intensity making it hard to open his eyes.
He takes a mental inventory of himself as he lays with his eyes
closed - fully dressed, shoes still on, definitely laying on something
soft. He opens his eyes hesitantly, mind drawn only on the desire to
get water and a painkiller as soon as possible. He lifts his head
enough to see he’s lying diagonally on the fully made hotel bed.
Instantly, his mind flashes to all the germs Harry has talked about
for five nights but he can’t bring himself to care at the moment.
He stumbles into the bathroom with a hand over his forehead to
keep the pain from bursting out and drinks from the faucet the way
his sister’s cat used to do, not worrying as the water runs down his
chin and onto his shirt in a messy stream. He turns the water off and

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wipes his face with his forearm and then goes in search of the
painkillers he knows are somewhere in his bag.
Harry is on top of his bed too - dressed only in his socks and a pair
of boxers, his mouth open as he snores softly. It’s a testament to
Louis’s hangover that he doesn’t notice the snores or pause to
admire Harry’s endless legs and broad back - or he doesn’t pause
very long, that is. Louis takes the pills dry and strips down to his
own boxers before crawling in the bed properly and burying his
face into the pillow. If he doesn’t wake up for the next fifteen years,
he’ll be happy about it.

*
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Harry’s low voice seeps into Louis’s
conscious and he opens his eyes at the sound.
“What?” Louis’s voice is broken and scratchy. His head doesn’t hurt
as badly as when he initially had but his stomach is certainly not
pleased with him as it twirls on it’s own accord.
Harry is perched on the edge of his bed in the same outfit he fell
asleep in, his head in his hands.
He looks up at Louis with bloodshot, puffy eyes. “It’s fuckin
tenthirty is what.”
Louis closes his eyes again, not in the mood to deal with Harry’s
dramatics. “Is that a problem?” He asks.
“Yes,” Harry says exasperatedly and Louis can nearly picture the
burning glare he’s probably shooting at Louis. “We needed to be on
the road at eight.”
Louis rolls his eyes before remembering his eyes are closed. “Too
late for that.”

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Harry’s sigh is as aggressive as if he were to actually yell something
and then it goes quiet. Louis hears him walk across the hotel room
and into the bathroom followed by a slamming door that brings his
headache back in angry force.
Louis pulls the covers up higher over his ears and then actually
groans out loud when he hears the distinct sound of Harry throwing
up from the bathroom. It does nothing for his own stomach as he
squeezes his eyes shut again.

He’s never drinking a pink drink again.

He’s never drinking from a coconut again.

If he has to hear Harry wretch one more time, he’s never drinking
anything else with a smidge of alcohol in it ever again.

*
Once the puking subsides, Harry showers and then Louis goes, the
warm water managing to bring him back to life with some sort of
healing power. He feels better once he dries off and pulls on a pair
of jean shorts and a t-shirt, his wet hair drying messily around his
head. He could still use a plate full of something greasy but that’s a
priority for after they check out.
Harry is dressed in a similar outfit when Louis comes out of the
bedroom but he’s laying flat on the bed, his hands over his eyes.
“We need to get on the road,” he says by way of addressing Louis.
Louis rolls his eyes. “I know. Let me just put my stuff in my bag
and we can go.”

“We’re four hours late.”

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Louis stares at him but Harry can’t see it with his hands still over
his eyes. “I promise you the world is still turning, Harry,” he says.
He doesn’t pack his bag nearly as well as the other mornings, just
throwing things in at random and saying a little prayer it will all fit
as he zips it closed. He checks under the bed and in the bathroom to
make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything.

Harry stays on the bed, unmoving.

“Are you ready or what?” Louis asks when he’s just starting to
consider if Harry may have fallen asleep.
“I’m hungover,” Harry says loudly, pulling himself up to a sitting
position. “I’m hungover and now we have to get in a car and I’m
just hoping I don’t have to puke anymore. Okay?”

“And we’re late,” Louis points out. “Four hours late.”

“Believe me, I fucking know,” Harry mutters as he stands up. He
puts on a pair of sunglasses, grabs his bag and leaves without
saying another words.
Louis flips him off after the door has shut behind him. He can’t
believe he thought he wanted to kiss him last night - not when
he’s an insufferable asshole every time Louis just starts to like
him. A handsome one - but that’s far beyond the point.

*
Harry makes it two minutes driving before he pulls off the side of
the road with a groan. “I can’t do it,” he announces, flinging off his
seatbelt. “I can’t drive.”

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Louis stares as Harry gets out of the car and shuts the door behind
him. He dry heaves next to the back door and then pulls open
Louis’s door.
“Do you want me to drive?” Louis asks, seatbelt still securely
fashioned. “Is that what this is?” Harry nods and he looks like an
overgrown puppy. Louis is not endeared.
“Are you going to ask politely or still be a dick? I’m not feeling my
finest either, you know.” Even as he says it, he unbuckles his
seatbelt and lets it recoil slowly.

“Please drive,” Harry says, voice low. “Please.”

Louis smirks and gets out of the car, “Oh, of course. Thanks for
asking,” he says, saccharine sweet.
He gives it ten minutes of Harry holding his head out the window
like a dog before he makes the executive decision to pull into the
first McDonald’s parking lot he sees.
“I know this isn’t in the plan and I know we’re late,” Louis
says before Harry can even look over. “Don’t even bother
saying it.”
“I’m not that bad am I?” Harry asks with his head still draped out
the window.
Louis snorts but doesn’t answer - Harry is clearly more hungover
than he is and he’s never been a guy to kick someone when they’re
down.
Louis doesn’t ask Harry what he wants as they pull through the
drive-thru just hands him a sausage muffin, two hashbrowns and a
Sprite without comment. “This will save your life, I promise,” he
says, placing a second identical bag in his own lap.

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He’s perfected the combination over his years at college and has it
down to an art. None of it is healthy but all of it has attributed to
successful presentations, interviews, and meetings following too
many nights gone astray.
“It’s going to rot my insides too,” Harry says opening the bag.
Louis catches him inhaling the grease-filled air like it’s oxygen.
Which, in their current state, it kind of is.
“After everything we’ve consumed the past few days?” Louis bites
into a hash brown and thinks he tastes salvation. “I wouldn’t worry
about it.”
“Yeah, those beer nuts are probably still wreaking havoc on my
intestines,” Harry says.
Louis looks over in time to see him smirking as he unwraps the
straw for his drink. “Probably,” Louis says, accelerating the car
back onto Route 66. His lips twitch into a smile of his own though
he does his best to conceal it.
Yeah, Harry might be insufferable but Louis thinks he still may
want to kiss him.

*
McDonald’s may not have many redeeming qualities but Louis
feels significantly better once he eats his version of breakfast and
Harry must as well - if his humming to the radio is anything to go
by.
“What’s in El Reno?” Louis asks as he pulls off at the exit the map
tells him to. Harry is the one who entered it into the GPS before he
became too incapacitated to drive so Louis doesn’t actually know
where it is they’re going. It does add a bit of mystery to the drive.

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“It’s referred to as ‘Hamburger City’,” Harry says. “They have like,
a giant hamburger festival every year where they cook a hamburger
that weighs seven hundred and fifty pounds.”
It sounds like something out of a bad book and Louis looks over
wearily. “Are we here for the festival?”
Harry actually smiles when he shakes his head. “No, it’s in May.
We missed it.”
“I’m heartbroken, for one,” Louis says drily, though silently
thanking his lucky stars.
“You know, the Arkansas border is just a few hours from us. I’d be
happy to detour to the giant ball of paint instead. It’s probably
bigger than the hamburger anyway.”
Louis laughs lightly, “I’m fine, thank you. And as if you would mess
up the itinerary for that.” Harry scoffs, “In the name of art?
You’d be surprised.”
*
Harry’s planned activity in Hamburger City still involves
hamburgers though not giant ones. There are three famous
hamburger restaurants all in a line on a block and they end up doing
a hamburger crawl through all three - splitting one hamburger at
each and finishing off with a milkshake at the very last one.
Harry takes pictures of their food at each restaurant, at one point
standing up on his chair to get a better overhead shot of the table.
“This is embarrassing,” Louis drones while simultaneously trying to
stay out of the photo.

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“Is it?” The right side of Harry’s lips lift into a half smile,
just enough to make his dimple curve in. “Should I stay up
here longer?”

Louis shields his eyes and slides lower in the booth.

“Who do you know here?” Harry asks, laughing over his words.
“Who in here is actually paying attention to me?”
Louis drops his hand, “To the attractive man in shorts standing on
the booth like it’s a stage at a strip club?”
Harry smiles fully. “Attractive?” Louis flips him off and Harry
takes a picture with his camera. He stays up on the booth for a bit
longer before finally sitting down.
He looks far too pleased with himself and it does nothing for the
turmoil in Louis’s brain when it comes to Harry Styles. He’s so rude
but he’s so sweet; he’s funny and he’s grumpy. He’s a fucking
anomaly and Louis is starting to become too attached for his own
good.
“I’m going to go into a food coma,” Louis announces as they go
back to the car after the final restaurant. “Please tell me you can
drive.”
Harry holds out his hand for they keys, “I can drive. We’re going to
Texas next, you know. We should get cowboy hats.”

Louis shakes his head. “We should definitely not.”

“Are you saying I don’t look like a bull rider?”

Louis is too fragile to think of Harry riding anything so he
dismisses Harry’s comment with a wave of his hand. “Texas is a
pretty fucking conservative place, H. You’re not going to like it.”

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“I like how you say that as if I don’t know how to read an electoral
map,” Harry muses with a quirked eyebrow. He unlocks the Jeep
and they both get in on their respective sides, Louis’s feet
automatically going up to the dashboard. Harry swats them off.
“Maybe I’m a bull rider in my spare time and I kiss boys.
America is a beautiful place, Louis. Embrace it.”
Louis rolls his eyes and puts his feet back up. “I’m going to
embrace my food coma, cowboy.” He tries to sound annoyed but
it’s more difficult when Harry is like this, joking around and
smiling like he knows something Louis doesn’t. It’s really fucking
hard to be annoyed.
He closes his eyes and waits for the car to start. Harry does start it
eventually but not before putting a Garth Brooks Spotify playlist on
the radio.

*
Louis wakes up somewhere outside of Weatherford which, he’s
disappointed to find, is still in Oklahoma.
“What’s wrong with Oklahoma?” Harry asks when Louis tells him.
The Garth Brooks tunes have transformed to Arctic Monkeys
sometime during Louis’s nap.
“Nothing’s wrong with it,” Louis says. “Just like, being in the car
isn’t that fun when you see the same things over and over.”
The grass out the windows is all dried up and though there are some
animals every once in awhile they’re mostly minding their own
business and not interested in the cars on the highway. The land is
flat in every direction which makes Louis uneasy for no real reason.
It feels to exposed in this part of the country, like if the car broke
down they would be stranded with nothing to find for miles.

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“Are you talking about me?”
“What?” Louis looks away from a swath of sheep in a field to the
right.
“You said you were sick of seeing the same things over and over,”
Harry says. “Am I one of those?”
Louis has a suspicion Harry is fishing for compliments but he’s not
sure he would be bold enough to do that. “Not bored of you yet,
no,” he finally manages. “I’m still trying to figure you out, you
know.”
“Figure what out?” Harry shifts his hands on the steering wheel,
“I’m not that complicated.”
Louis wants to talk more about what they discussed last night -
about Harry’s whirlwind romance that left him in all sorts of a
mess. He doesn’t know how to bring it up without the smooth glide
of alcohol under their tongues. Everything is always harder in the
daylight.
“Does an investigator ever tell the suspect what he’s investigating?”
Louis sounds like a prat and he knows it, so he grins after he says it.
Harry gasps and looks over, “Am I the suspect? Are you an
investigator? Is this what roleplaying is?”
Louis laughs and rolls down the window on his side to breathe in
the air that smells like a field of cows. “Fuck off,” he says which
only makes Harry laugh.
They spend the next hour in relative silence except for Harry
pointing out when he sees baby animals in the fields which isn’t
annoying at all. “Baby,” he says pointing at a lamb, then, “Baby,” at
a pony running with two other horses and then, “Baby, baby, baby,”

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when they come across three calves standing next to their parents in
some of the taller grass.
“Oh my god,” Louis says at the next patch of horses, “Look at all of
those adults. Adult, adult, adult.” He has nowhere to hide when
Harry reaches over to flick the side of his face, though he does try
to swat at him in defense.
“Oh, baby,” Harry says a moment later and Louis groans.
He looks around anyway because he does enjoy seeing tiny
animals. Both sides of the highway are deserted. “Where?” He asks.
Harry looks over, “Oh, sorry.” He shifts his hips in his seat and
glances back toward the road, “I was having a moment.”
Louis shakes his head and then tries to hide his smile in his arm
as he goes back to looking out the window.

*
Coming into Texas is more anticlimactic than Louis had anticipated
though he can’t say what exactly he was expecting to happen when
they crossed the border. There are two cowboys riding bareback on
the highway and two bull skulls in a dried out field that both seem
to be quintessential Texas occurrences. Harry tries to talk in a
southern accent for a few minutes but the way he rounds his
Chicagoan vowels overruns his Texas slur.
The earth is more scorched and the Oklahoma fields have turned
into most bushlands but the desert hills are tri-colored like wet
murals. The first big city they come across is the Cadillac Ranch of
Amarillo Amarillo which, according to the itinerary in Louis’s lap,
is exactly where they’re supposed to be.

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Technically, it's nothing more than open land with ten old-school
Cadillacs standing on their noses and half buried in the hardened,
dried dirt but Louis also thinks its one of the things you have to see
to believe.
“This is so cool,” Harry says with wide eyes, already trying to take
off his seatbelt before he’s stopped the car.
There isn’t a formal parking area, or not that Harry is going to take
the time to find, so they wander over to the line of cars from just off
the highway. Each one is painted by passing tourists fancy and there
are a smattering of spray paint can along the ground for people to
use. Harry goes into paparazzo mode and Louis takes a few pictures
with his phone, admiring the artistry in the completely random way
it’s all been done.
It’s amazing the car can be covered and re-covered again, ever
changing and evolving based on who has stopped by. Louis runs his
hand along one bumper and tries to imagine the years of other
designs beneath the top layer, the other so-called artists who have
stood where he is. The collaborative effort it has taken to make the
Cadillacs into eyesores in the Texan desert is incredible.
“This is so much cooler than a giant ball of paint,” Louis says when
Harry starts taking up close shots of the car he’s looking at.
Harry smiles, taking a picture of Louis and then focusing on the
cars again. “I agree,” he says from behind the camera. “Texas is
better than Arkansas already.”
“Considering we didn’t go to Arkansas, it would be hard not to
beat.” Louis grabs a can of spray paint from the dusty ground and
shakes it around, the barbell rattling at the bottom.

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“What are you going to paint?” Harry asks, finally taking the
camera away from his face.
“I don’t know.” Louis chews his bottom lip and waves Harry away
with his hand. “I don’t need you judging me while I do it.”

Harry laughs but backs away, stopping to pick up his own paint can.
“Don’t breathe in the fumes,” Louis calls after him. “You’re still on
driving duty.” Harry is wearing sunglasses but, as usual, Louis is sure
he rolls his eyes.
He gives it some brief thought but Louis can’t think of what to paint
so he does a smiley face and feels like an uncreative loser. He does
some jagged lines and a giant letter ‘L’ for good measure before he
wanders off to find Harry.
There are a few people at every car spray painting and taking
photos - mostly families and then a group of sorority girls in
lettered tshirts climbing on top of one car for a group picture. Harry
is at the last car, kneeling by himself, concentrating on whatever
he’s painting with a focus Louis tends to lack in artistic endeavors.
He watches him as he slows his pace, Harry’s eyes tracing the line
of paint, one hand over the lens of the camera to make sure there’s
no backspray into it. Louis takes a photo of him with his phone,
trying to position it into a semi-artsy composition though he’s not
sure he’d call himself a photographer yet.
He walks closer when Harry picks up a second bottle and starts
retracing the line he just made with the first. The words “What are
you making?” die before Louis even asks as he realizes what Harry
is doing. He’s painted a heart with a black outline and he’s filled the
center with the full spectrum of rainbow colors. Louis takes another
photo without even thinking, taking another step closer.

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“You’re making me feel inadequate,” Louis says when he realizes
standing silently behind Harry is borderline creepy.
Harry jumps at his voice and then huffs a laugh as he stands up. He
dusts off his knees and pushes his sunglasses higher on his nose.
“The point is you don’t have to do anything anyone else does,”
Harry says. “It’s all art.”
“Yeah, well, you’re over here making grand political statements
while I wrote the first letter of my name like a three year old.”
Harry laughs again, shaking his head. He stoops down for another
can of paint and shakes it. “Not a political statement,” Harry says
quietly. “Just a human one.”
Louis watches in slight awe as Harry gets back in the position he
was originally in before Louis interrupted and paints the word love
over the heart he’s just drawn. In the heart of Texas, surrounded by
a ton of psychedelic cars, it feels a bit spiritual.
Harry finally drops the can and backs up to admire his work.
“Cool,” he says happily, sniffing.
“And I didn’t even get that high.”
Louis laughs and then nudges Harry with his arm. “You better take
a picture before we go. That’s what the kids call Instagrammable
content,” Louis says.
Harry’s laughter is pure light as he turns on his camera. “You know
the word Instagrammable?”

“My sister runs a makeup blog, H. I’m very hip.”

Harry snorts and Louis nearly kicks his shin but contains himself as
not to ruin Harry’s shot. Louis posts the photo he’s taken to his
Instagram story while they walk back to the car. He tags Harry with

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the paintbrush emoji and feels very new age considering his typical
Instagram stories.
Harry checks his phone when they get in the car and laughs quietly.
“You tagged me in a Story but you didn’t follow me?” He glances
over at Louis, “Should I be offended.”

Louis smirks. “You didn’t follow me.”

“You sure about that?” Harry asks with a knowing smile.
Sure enough, Louis gets notification from @HarryStyles and rolls
his eyes. “You just have to oneup me every time, don’t you?” Louis
slides his finger over the notification and follows Harry back before
depositing his phone back in the cupholder.
“I do,” Harry says, starting the car. “If I don’t, I lose my
superpowers.”

Harry is ridiculous. Louis likes it far too much.

*
They drive west for an hour or so until they come across a barbeque
place Harry had seen on Instagram when he was preparing for the
trip. Louis notes it’s absent from the notebook he’s holding.
“It didn’t make the itinerary?” Louis asks as they find a parking
spot.
“We started late today,” Harry says. “We should be to Vega by
now.”
“Ah, Vega,” Louis muses. “The lesser known sister to Vegas.”
Harry gives him half of a laugh before getting out of the car.

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Butch’s Bar-Be-Que is a red barn with red checkered table cloths
that serves ribs and mason jars of sweet tea. Louis and Harry share
a rack of ribs with a plate of various barbecue sides and make a
mess on their faces though they try to eat cleanly. There’s a bucket
of individually packaged wet wipes they have to use to get all of the
barbeque sauce off of them and Louis grabs a couple of extras just
in case.
“The road can get messy,” he tells Harry. It makes him feel like his
mom so he texts her to tell her he’s thinking about her. He’s long
outgrown being homesick but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss her
from time to time still.
The sunset is brilliant when they come back outside - the reds and
oranges unimpeded by buildings or smog, endless beauty in almost
every direction. Harry drives out of the parking lot of Butch’s only
to pull off at a deserted gas station so they can get out and look at it
without anything in the way.
“Doesn’t this make you want to live in the country?” Harry asks
quietly. The world seems silent around them and Louis likes the
idea that perhaps the whole world has stopped to watch the sunset.
“Back to this again?” Louis crosses his arms and leans against the
side of the car. The day was warm but the night is slowly cooling
around them.
Harry smiles. “I’m just saying. It’s so open. You forget there’s
anything else happening around you.”
Louis nods in silent agreement. It feels like that tonight but it’s kind
of felt like that for the last six days, too. It’s only been him and
Harry intermixing with the nameless and faceless all around them.
It feels like they’re living in their own personal bubble. Just the two
of them. Louis has forgotten their even headed back to school - that

180
classes and the future are lingering in a not so distant future. Right
now, there’s just this. The sunset, Harry and Texas. It doesn’t seem
like a bad deal.

*
“I have an idea,” Harry says once they’ve been driving for two
hours west, the sky darkening quickly overhead.
“To get a hotel, I hope,” Louis says, turning to face him. Harry’s
been driving like a man under the gun, blasting through the country
roads on the way to New Mexico.
“We need to make up some time,” Harry says, ignoring Louis
altogether. “So we should just take turns and drive over night. The
other person can sleep when they aren’t driving and in the morning
we’ll have made up all of the lost ground.”
Louis stares blankly at the side of Harry’s face. Harry notices the
silence and laughs when he sees Louis is staring.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“We should just enjoy the extra time,” Louis says. “Not waste it by
rushing around.”

“You just want to sleep in a bed.”

“So, sue me. Is that so wrong? Why are you in such a hurry?”
“I’m not in a hurry,” Harry says. “I just want to make up the time
we lost so we can get back on track. If we don’t, we’re running half
a day behind.”
“And that’s bad?” Louis thinks of their bubble and suddenly how
rushed to get through it Harry seems to be.

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“The itinerary is there for a reason, Louis,” Harry says. “I want us
to use it.”
Louis would like to burn the itinerary but instead he says, “Alright.
When you’re tired, give me the wheel.”
Harry’s smile is pleased and Louis looks away. Lo and behold,
Harry is back to being annoying again.

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 Day 7 & 8

DAY SEVEN

Boise, Oklahoma
Around one in the morning is when Harry finally gives up the ghost
and pulls to the dark shoulder to let Louis take over. They both pull
on sweatshirts for the next shift as the darkness cools the air in the
car and then Harry curls up in the passenger seat while Louis
stretches his neck and gets ready to go.
The night is darker than usual as they drive - the winding highway
and the desolate emptiness on the edges shrouded by a starless sky.
There are thin clouds above that are keeping the stars hidden and
everything feels eerie as Louis hums to the Sam Smith record he’s
put on.
Harry snores softly every once in a while but mostly stays quiet and
unmoving. Louis catches himself glancing over to notice the
smoothness of his cheeks and rough line of his jaw, the way his lips
curve together in a perfect Cupid’s bow. It’s all things he shouldn’t

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notice and he has to draw his attention back to the road a couple of
times before he forgets where he is.
Harry confuses him. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but in how Louis
isn’t sure how to feel about him. Sometimes he thinks he’s
developed a crush and sometimes he’s so annoyed he could push
him carefully out of a slow moving car. He has so many questions
and things he wants to know about him - his childhood stories and
most embarrassing moment, the one thing he’s always wanted to
do, his favorite ice cream. Louis wants to make him laugh, wants to
make him happy. He wants that for all his friends but every time his
mind flashes to the night before, in the bar, when they were so close
it was nearly electric - he doesn’t think this is the same way he feels
about the rest his friends.
That's the other thing confusing Louis – the conversation at the bar;
the way they were talking, how open Harry was. If Louis is
connecting it right, Matt is the reason Harry started to become so
controlling of his day to day life. He’s the reason Harry had to try to
get his life back on order. He’s the reason Harry is meticulous about
schedules and not being thrown off course. He’s the reason
spontaneous is now a foreign language to Harry’s ear.
Louis actually manages to sigh out loud in the space between two
songs and he bites down on his lip in the hope Harry doesn't wake
up from it.
It's just that he wants to know Harry better and maybe that's the
double underline of the entire thing. He wants to know him better ;
he wants Harry to be as open with him again as he was last night.
He likes him. Maybe that's the triple underline. Louis likes him, he
wants to know him. He kind of wants to burn the itinerary and
make Harry do something he hasn't planned but he hasn't gotten
around to that yet.

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He thinks it's the last thought that makes him do it. Maybe it’s the
perfect storm of the safety in the cover of darkness, Harry's soft
snores, and that damn itinerary that draws Louis's attention away
from the road to a sign directing him to Vogel Canyon, Colorado in
just two exits.
"Colorado?" Louis whispers, pursing his lips. As far as he knows,
Colorado isn't anywhere in their plan - in Harry's plan. He tries to
pull up his mental map of the southwest corner of America but the
states closest to Texas just kind of blur in the way they always do
for a kid from the north who spends his time on the west coast.
"Fuck it," he says as the next exit comes closer. He accelerates and
steers to the diagonal, pulling the Jeep from the Route 66 heading
west and going, instead, due North. Harry might just kill him when
he realizes.

*
There are a couple of close calls as Texas fades behind them. Louis
puts the new destination into his phone and turns it on silent,
relying only on the flashing directions rather than the automated
voice. It says it'll only take three and a half hours to get to Vogel
Canyon as Louis stretches out his fingers from gripping the wheel
so tightly.
If he thought he would get sleepy on his driving shift, the quick
change in plans has certainly changed the tides. He feels wired the
way he imagines a bank robber feels when they’re on the run. His
grip on the wheel is tighter than it’s been before; his eyes aren't
blinking in a normal cadence anymore. He tries to focus on the
music - Fleetwood Mac now - but his mind is buzzing with an
explanation he can give to Harry when they show up in Colorado.
Maybe Harry will sleep until they get to Vogel Canyon and then

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he'll be so taken with the beauty he won’t even notice that it’s not
New Mexico.
The flaw, of course, is Louis has never heard of Vogel Canyon
before, and has definitely never seen what it looks like. It could be a
dried up crater with no sign of life but he's not sure if it matters now
since they're headed full speed ahead.
The route takes them over the border and back through Oklahoma
though Louis hopes it's over a new corner of the state and he's not
actually back tracking. As far as he knows, Colorado is more west
than east and that's information he remembers from a high school
geography course.
Harry wakes up briefly in Boise City, which, contrary to Louis's
shock, is still in Oklahoma and not Idaho. Still, Louis stops
breathing when he sees Harry lift his head and rub at his eyes. He
stretches his neck and sits up in his seat, staring out the window for
a couple minutes. It’s far too dark to make out the scenery.

"Do you need me to drive?" He asks; sleep still curling in his voice.
Louis smiles - its sweet Harry is offering though Louis is pretty sure
he'd fall asleep behind the wheel if Louis took him up on the offer.
"No," he says. He swallows and licks his suddenly dry lips. "I'm
alright. You should sleep more. I'll wake you up," Louis lies. If he
could give Harry a sleeping pill to not wake up until he actually
wants him to, that would be ideal. Thankfully, Harry drifts off on
his own, again.
Louis starts to get hungry - his body not used to running full speed
ahead at three in the morning. They're close, though. The maps says
only an hour and a half left which means it's definitely too late to
turn back. Louis smiles to himself - he still doesn't have an excuse
to give Harry but he's almost gotten away with his plan. He can

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show Harry that being spontaneous isn't always reckless unless
Harry murders him first.
The thrill is short lived as they cross into Colorado, the sky barely
starting to lighten. Harry sits up again, running his hands over his
face and then looking out the front window as he blinks drearily. He
doesn't look as sleepy this time; he looks alert as he turns the music
up slightly louder. Louis feels acid curling in his stomach. He tries
to decide if it will be better for Harry to figure out where they are
on his own or if Louis should say something. Maybe he should pull
to Vogel Canyon and act like it was always in the plan – he vaguely
wonders if that will work.
It turns out, whatever he thinks is best doesn't actually matter. He
sees the sign before Harry at least, but it doesn't really help in the
end. It's a billboard with a few mountains painted in the background
with Welcome to Colorado in giant white cursive lettering over the
top. Louis's eyes go wide and he tries to figure out what kind of
distraction will make Harry stop from noticing. He's about to just
scream loudly until they pass but Harry beats him to it.
"Colorado?" It's not a scream just Harry's rolling voice asking a
question. A question Louis can't really answer or, at least, not in a
way that makes it go away.
"Um, yeah," he says, not taking his eyes from the road. His hands
are sweating and there's sweat between his shoulder blades, too; his
sweatshirt is suddenly stifling.
Harry looks confused as he grabs Louis's phone and starts sliding
his finger through the Maps app, clearly looking for something.
Louis feels like he's just lit the end of a firecracker and the
explosion is inevitable.

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He feels the rush of too many memories of being a kid and getting
ready to get caught for something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.
Something like putting glue in his sister’s shampoo bottle or forging
a doctor’s note so he didn’t have to take a math test. He learned
then, and remembers the same now; it’s best not to stutter out half
excuses in the beginning. The best course of action is to let the
explosion happen and deal with the aftermath in the following
smoke. Just like when he was a kid, he finds himself holding his
breath as he waits.
“Louis,” Harry’s voice is low, a bit scary. “Why are we in
Colorado?”
Louis clears his throat. “It’s - It’s on the way to Vogel Canyon,
Harry.” It’s not a lie, that’s always a good way to start.
Harry nods and looks out the opposite window, the silence
lingering. Louis thinks it’s too good to be true - that Harry is just
going to take what he’s said at face value and shut up. It is too good
to be true.
Harry looks back to Louis in slow motion and Louis grips the wheel
harder. His voice is scary than before, lower and strained. “Why the
fuck are we on the way to Volgel Canyon?”
Louis can only take the unpleasant exchange for so long before he
needs to push things along a little further - light another spark. He
rolls his eyes, “I thought it would be fun, okay? I thought it would
be a good fucking adventure.”
“God dammit, Louis,” Harry actually yells this time. “Why are you
doing this to me?”
“To you?” Louis raises his voice, too. “I’m not doing anything to
you.” Where does Harry even get off thinking that Louis doing

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something fun is a personal attack? He’s about to ask but Harry is
two steps ahead.
“You know I want to stick to the itinerary. You know that’s the
whole basis of this trip is to go to the places I planned out and yet
you keep trying to fuck it up. You keep trying to fuck me up.”
“Whoa,” Louis says, keeping his eyes on the road because yelling
isn’t conducive to great driving.
“Stop acting like everything is about you. Maybe I just don’t want
to sit through another museum.” It’s not Louis’s best line, they
haven’t been to a museum since the first day and he didn’t actually
partake in that museum but he is operating heavy machinery and
trying to fight with Harry so he gives himself a pass.
“We haven’t been to a museum in days,” Harry calls him out. “You
just like to poke until things break, don’t you? I’ve told you over
and over that I want to stick to an exact timeline and you keep
fucking it up.”
“Everything I’ve chosen to do has been fun,” Louis says loudly
before Harry can keep going. He may be wrong in going rogue and
driving to Colorado but he’s not taking the blame for everything
else. “You haven’t complained about one thing I’ve picked,” he
raises his voice when Harry opens his mouth, “Except the beer nuts
but now is not the time, Harry.”
Harry crosses his arms. “I should have known you were going to
take over from the first day. You don’t respect boundaries.”
Louis doesn’t like that. He hates it, actually. He and Harry have
been getting along so well and now it’s unraveling and their
throwing barbs like all the brighter moments don’t even exist. “It’s
not me,” he says, “It’s your incessant need to control things because
of one fucked up relationship.” That’s too far - Louis knows when

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he says it. They bicker - it’s become a trademark of this road trip
but they don’t make it personal, not usually.

“Stop the car,” Harry says, shaking his head.

“No,” Louis says, keeping his hands on the wheel and gripping so
tightly his knuckles turn white.

“Stop the fucking car,” Harry says again, undoing his seatbelt.
“Why? So you can run down the freeway and get hit by a car?”
Louis shakes his head, “No.”
“Because I can’t be in the car with you right now without saying
something I regret,” Harry says, his voice cracking in the middle.
“Please stop the car.”
Please really is the magic word or the emotion in Harry’s voice is
too strong for Louis - whatever it is, Louis steers to the shoulder
and presses the brake. He turns on the flashers but Harry is already
out of the car before they even blink.
The door slams and it rings in the small space as Louis puts his
forehead on the steering wheel. He’d decided on Vogel Canyon for
no reason but to give Harry proof that spontaneity is fun. Now,
sitting here, he’s not sure how he’s going to explain that to Harry.
Not when Harry is under the impression Louis does these things to
spite him, not when Louis tosses his secrets and insecurities back at
him like they’re darts.
“Fuck,” he says out loud, slamming his hands on the wheel. He
grabs the keys and gets out of the car. Harry may not be able to be
in the car but hopefully the highway is big enough for the both of
them.

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Harry is by the back bumper, arms crossed and eyes narrowed when
Louis turns the corner to face him.
The sky is clearer in Colorado so the stars are sparkles against the
sky and the moon casts a gentle light, the low roll of daylight
sending shadows over the highway. The flashing brake lights on the
Jeep read like a warning.
“I’m sorry,” Louis' starts. In daylight hours, this freeway is
probably loaded with heavy trucks and families heading on
vacation. But for now it’s just them. “I’m sorry for coming to
Colorado.” Harry shakes his head, once quickly. “It’s not that,” he
says.

Louis nearly snorts, he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t be having this
conversation if he was pulling into the designated hotel in New
Mexico.
“Okay,” Louis says. “I still apologize. It was wrong for me to make
this decision.” He feels like an adult in a business meeting, not like
he’s talking to the most intense and volatile crush he’s ever had.
“It’s not that,” Harry says again. “It’s that you keep throwing things
at me.” He runs his hands back through his hair and then drops
them both, unceremoniously to his sides. “Every time I think we’re
getting along, you do something that makes me so mad. Why do
you keep doing that?”
His stare is imploring but Louis can’t take it. He looks away for a
moment. “Would you believe if I say I’m not doing anything to hurt
you? When I said I wanted to get to know you, I did mean that.”
Harry stares silently for a beat. “Then why are we in Colorado? If
you wanted to see me yell, there are other things to do.”

191
Louis shakes his head. “Believe me that was not the intention.” He
rolls his bottom lip between his teeth as he tries to figure out how to
get his words in a coherent order. “Is the itinerary because of
Matt?”

Fuck. That is not what he thought he was going to say.

“Fuck, Louis,” Harry echoes Louis’s internal thoughts but much
louder. “Why are you bringing that up? I didn’t tell you that so
you could hold it over my head. I told you because we’re friends.
Or that’s what I thought.”
“I’m not holding it over your head,” Louis says, just as loud. “I’m
trying to understand you.”
“He’s not the reason for the itinerary,” Harry says. “He’s not the
reason for anything - he’s just a guy who doesn’t mean anything.”
“You seem to be holding onto him pretty tight,” Louis says and
immediately bites his tongue. He can’t seem to control his brain to
mouth filter around Harry and it’s becoming a problem.
“I’m not,” Harry says and his face is cast red in the brake light, his
eyes flashing just as dark. “It’s easier to say I almost failed out of
college because I was in love than to say I was overwhelmed by my
first real relationship and didn’t know how to control it, okay?”
His chest is rising rapidly and Louis realizes he’s the one still
holding his breath. He didn’t realize Harry had almost failed out of
school - he thought he’d been distracted by his boyfriend. It’s
clearly more serious than he’d thought.
“Yeah,” Harry says because Louis’s face must be betraying him. “I
nearly threw away my chance at school and almost had to tell me
parents I’d wasted their money because of a boy who I thought I
loved, instead. Add that to your list of things you can use against

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me.” He throws his arms out wide, “Add that to the list of things
you can yell at me for in the middle of a Colorado highway.”
“Harry,” Louis says all in a rush, “I’m not looking for things to use
against you. Not at all. I really am just trying to get to know you.
I’m not,” he lowers his voice, “I don’t want to yell at you on the
side of the highway in Colorado.”
Harry shakes his head. “Then why are we in Colorado, Louis?” He
sounds defeated and, god, this is not the way Louis wanted anything
to go.
“I did it for you,” he says, shaking his head because it doesn’t sound
like a gift anymore. “I thought you had the itinerary because you
didn’t want to lose control and have it go badly. So I thought we
could do this and I’d show you it was fun. That being spontaneous
and out of control isn’t the
worst thing. I did this to be nice.” He doesn’t think he’s breathed
through any of his words and his lungs expand in a harried fashion.
Harry’s laugh is half chewed. “You did this for me?” He shakes his
head, “Weird way you have of explaining yourself.”
Louis nods, “You didn’t react exactly how I’d intended. I certainly
didn’t think this would happen.” He waves his hands around the
highway to encompass the last ten minutes.
Harry looks at the ground and when he looks up his cheeks are pink
in the moonlight. “I’m not very happy with you,” he says.
Louis nods, rolling his lips together. There’s a twist of wind
around them and he pulls his hands into the sleeves of his
sweatshirt. “Yeah, I figured.” “And I’m embarrassed,” Harry
says, quieter.

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Louis swallows, “Why’s that?”
Harry rolls his eyes, “I’m pretty sure I just threw a tantrum in the
middle of nowhere Colorado for reasons that don’t exactly make
sense.”
“No, they do,” Louis says quickly, taking a step forward. They’re
both idiots but - that’s the thing, it’s both of them. “You make
sense.”
Harry smiles, “You’d understand if you knew the way I felt about
you.” His eyes go wide and he takes a step back to counteract
Louis’s motion.

Louis doesn't breathe and his heart misses a beat. “What?”

Harry covers his face and groans. “I can’t believe I just said that out
loud.”
“What?” Louis takes two steps closer this time. “What are you
talking about?”
The way he feels about Louis? He’s pretty sure he thinks Louis is
annoying and a bit manipulative.
“Nothing,” Harry’s says, his voice muffled by his own hands. “Can
we just forget this whole night happened?”
Louis certainly cannot take him up on that offer. “No,” he says,
reaching for Harry’s wrists. He wraps his fingers around them,
thumbs landing on the bony knobs. He tugs just slightly and Harry
lets him, his hands falling back. This close, Louis can see his
cheeks really are darker than the rest of his skin, his eyes cast
somewhere off to the side. “What did you say?”
Harry looks back, eyes finally meeting Louis's, their face inches
apart with the moon and stars dancing overhead. The sun is coming,

194
Louis knows, and whatever moment they’re holding onto is
fleeting. Louis tracks Harry’s gaze as it dips to his mouth and then
back to his eyes. It’s like a reflex when Louis’s tongue slips over his
bottom lip, a terrible reflex because Harry watches that too.
“What did you say?” Louis asks again. He leans in, barely but it’s
enough to hear Harry’s intake of breath.
He doesn't know who moves first, wouldn’t be able to prove it in a
court of law, but suddenly his lips are on Harry’s and they’re
kissing in the middle of nowhere, Colorado. On a highway.
It’s like touching an electric fence, the way it goes. Louis exhales in
a rush against Harry’s soft lips, the hairs on his arms and the back
of his neck rising to attention when their lips meet and their noses
brush.
It’s over just as fast as touching an electric fence, too. Harry sighs
right against Louis’s mouth and Louis jolts back like he’s been
stung, three steps taking him to the other side of the Jeep. “Oh my
god,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I did that.” He
holds his hands up and covers his eyes briefly before he all but runs
back to the car, his lungs banging in his chest in embarrassment.
He has just kissed Harry Styles for no reason other than Harry
might have admitted he has feelings. Except he didn't, Louis tells
himself more firmly. He said he felt a certain way but he didn’t
specify whether it was a good or bad feeling. Harry kissed him
back, though - he’s so sure of it until suddenly he isn’t.
“You’re an idiot, Louis Tomlinson,” he says out loud, meeting his
eyes in the rear view mirror. “I know,” his reflection says right back
to him.

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He jumps when Harry opens the passenger door, feels like he’s
about to have a heart attack. He can’t believe they kissed; he can’t
believe they now have to sit in a car for another week and a half.
Harry clips his seatbelt on and then sits perfectly still in the silence.
Louis wants to get back out of the car and take a lap around the car
just to take the edge off his shame. He’s such an idiot.
He clears his throat and starts the car; he knows how to drive, this
he can do. “Ready?” He asks. Harry nods, absolutely silent
otherwise. Louis nods back and eases back onto the empty highway.
It’s only two minutes later he realizes they’re still headed to Vogel
Canyon with no plans of things to do, no idea of what Vogel
Canyon actually holds, no idea if there’s a bed waiting for them in
the next hour when they arrive. If he could go back in time, back to
Route 66, he’d do it happily. If that meant taking back the kiss,
taking back the tension settling between them where the center
console is - he’d gladly give it all back. If it would get rid of the
terrible weight sinking in his stomach, and erase all the ways this
road trip has just been turned on its head.
“How far are we from the route?” Harry asks further down the road,
the sky lighting up gradually around them. His voice sounds
measured and easy while Louis feels like his vocal chords have
been chopped. He clears his throat.
“We should be driving parallel to the 66,” Louis says. His
geography skills aren’t fabulous but he’s figured out that much.
“Parallel but three hours to the north.”
Harry nods and looks back out the window. Louis’s stomach is
shaking and he hates it. He’s told Harry he did this for him, but
Harry never agreed it was a good idea. Best intentions gone awry
and now Louis feels like his words are lodged in his throat. Twenty

196
minutes ago, when Harry asked if they could forget this all ever
happened, Louis should have agreed. They should have turned
around and left, they shouldn’t have kept going, certainly shouldn’t
have let their lips touch.
“We can start driving diagonal right now and get back on track,”
Louis says, pulse racing in his neck. He wants to make it better.
“We’d only have lost a few hours.”
Harry looks over and his face is pleasantly blank, no daggers
shooting from his eyes the way Louis has been picturing. “Or we go
to Vogel Canyon and then loop to New Mexico tomorrow.” Louis’s
shock must dance through his eyes, maybe his whole face. “I
looked at the map,” Harry says, half a smile pulling on his lips. He
clears his throat and the smile drops. “We’ll be almost perfectly
above Santa Rosa, so it should be an easy drive.”
Louis squeezes the steering wheel with his hands and then releases.
“Are you saying you want to keep going?”
Harry smiles, hesitantly. “Yeah. You said back there,” he licks his
lips and Louis nods quickly - he knows where back there is, he
doesn’t need a description. “You said you were doing this for me.
Like, for fun.”
Louis nods, swallowing. “I really did. I knew it wasn’t part of the
plan but I thought it would be an adventure. It’s turned out to be …
Not exactly that.”
Harry nods once and then looks back toward the road. “It’s not over
yet,” he says. There’s a lingering pause like he thinks he hasn’t
made himself clear. “So, let’s keep going.”
Louis nods back just as surely and for the first time since he left
Route 66, his heart starts to lighten.

197
 *
Vogel Canyon is not, in fact, the dried up crater of Louis’s
overactive imagination. It is a dry canyon but punctuated with
greenery and endless blue skies, a few clouds reaching lazily from
end to end but the sun keeping the morning pleasant.
“This is the most green we’ve seen in days,” Harry says once the
canyon comes into view. They haven’t said much since the sun has
come up, only a few words to finish out their drive. Everything
feels raw the way it does after an explosion with no true end - like
the dust is settling and they’re trying to remember their bearings,
like they’re still walking on egg shells.
“And there’s a river,” Louis says, pointing out along a far wall of
the canyon where a steady blue stream of water flows.
“Good choice for being spontaneous,” Harry says lightly. “Could
have gone very wrong.”
As if it already hasn’t . Louis keeps the thought to himself and
smirks anyway. He still wouldn’t count them as out of the woods
yet.
Vogel Canyon has a state park with cabins to rent and Louis parks
in a guest parking spot with his stomach clenched with hope. Harry
gets out of the car and stretches while Louis walks inside to the
reception desk; throwing out a prayer to anyone listening that the
park has vacancies.
It turns out there’s one cabin left and though it’s more expensive
than any hotel they’ve stayed in thus far, Louis hands his credit card
over without hesitation.

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“You’ll be in Lover’s Lane,” the woman behind the desk says with a
sweet smile. “It’s two rows of cabins behind this one. Not too hard
to miss.”
“Lover’s Lane?” Louis asks, taking the keys from her outstretched
hand.

“They’re usually rented out on honeymoons and stuff,” she says.

Someone, somewhere, in the sky clearly has a sick sense of humor.
Louis smiles over his shoulder as he leaves, already deciding not to
share the name of their cabin with Harry.
“There are still two beds, right?” He asks right at the door leading
back to the parking lot.
“Two bedrooms and two bathrooms, yeah,” she says. She doesn’t
offer an explanation for how that’s conducive to a honeymoon
cabin and Louis definitely doesn’t ask.
“Did they have any openings?” Harry asks over a yawn as Louis
comes back outside. He’s sitting on the hood of the car looking as
tired as Louis feels.

“One left,” Louis says, holding up the key.

Harry smiles, “Awesome. I picked up a brochure of things to do.”

Louis raises his eyebrows because of course Harry found a
brochure. He bites down on his comment - it’s still too soon to be
taking swipes at each other again, even teasing ones.
“Did you?” He says, getting back in the Jeep. Harry follows
quickly.

“Do you like horses? I thought horseback riding could be fun.”

199
Louis doesn’t particularly enjoy horses that much but there’s a tinge
of excitement to Harry’s voice and that’s what this part of the trip
was supposed to be about anyway - before things got so
complicated.

“That sounds fun,” he says with a smile.

“Plus there’s a cafe located in the center of all the cabins,” Harry
says. “I was thinking we could get breakfast and then maybe nap.
Do horses in the afternoon?”
Louis’s lips twitch despite himself. “Have it all planned out, do
you?”
Harry’s reaction is immediate, his lips parting to either offer an
excuse or tell Louis off - Louis wants neither.

“I’m kidding,” Louis says quickly. “That’s a good plan.”

Finding the cabin isn’t difficult at all - Louis finds the parking with
the corresponding key number and the small wooden cabin just
beyond. There’s a painted sign that says, “Lover’s Lane,” leading to
the front but if Harry notices it, he doesn’t comment.
“There are two rooms,” Louis says as they let themselves in.
“Moving on up from our little motel rooms.”

“And those had been going so well,” Harry says with a half-smile.
They really have, Louis thinks. They’ve spent almost a week
sleeping less than five feet apart.
Having their own rooms, though, the privacy, is something he’s
already looking forward to.
The two rooms share a wall but the beds are both generously sized
so no one has a complaint. They both put their bags down and then

200
wander back out to find the cafe, Harry holding up the giant map in
front of his face like a tourist on the loose.

*
Breakfast is quiet and though Louis could say it’s awkward, he
really thinks they’re just tired. He hasn’t slept all night and Harry
slept in fits - his subconscious was probably trying to keep him
awake to warn him of Louis’s chosen path.
The cafe is quaint and out of place for a cabin but the food is good
and their waitress doesn’t have too many questions. She’d probably
have more if she knew they were staying in Lover’s Lane.

Louis is definitely not going to mention that.

They walk back to the cabin in another quiet daze both agreeing to
be up and ready after lunch for the late afternoon horse ride down to
the river. There was an entire menu of kinds of horse rides being
offered but Louis just had Harry pick the one he thought sounded
best. Harry took his job seriously, reading over the list while
sipping a glass or orange juice and then deciding on the one next to
the river.
Shutting the door to his room and having the room completely to
himself is a welcome reprieve and Louis can’t help the excited
flutter in his stomach as he strips to his boxers and slips between
the cool sheets. He doesn’t even get a chance to dwell over
everything sitting between him and
Harry - for the first time he can ever remember, he’s asleep before
his head even hits the pillow.

201
Louis wakes up sweating, and hard. He forgets where he even is, his
mind still chasing the edge of a dream. He can’t pinpoint a thing
about it other than it being dark and Harry being there. That’s all
he’s got and now he’s painfully stiff in his boxers and sharing a wall
with the object of that same lust. It’s amazing how much the world
hates him sometimes.
He rolls onto his stomach and squeezes his eyes shut to will the
boner away but that doesn’t work not with the pressure of the
mattress adding the friction he desperately wants. When he closes
his eyes all he sees is Harry’s lips, all he feels is Harry’s lips on his.
Their quasi-kiss couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds but
Louis’s mind is intent on stretching it out like taffy in his
memory.
“Fuck,” he huffs as he rolls onto his back. He kicks off the blankets
and shoves his hand down the front of his boxers, hissing when he
finally gets a grip on his cock. His hand feels so good his eyes
almost roll back in his head - and that’s saying something
considering he’s gotten bored of his hand too many times over the
last year. He hasn’t properly gotten off since they started on the
road trip except for quick mornings in the shower which have been
more out necessity than pleasure.
Not now - he thinks as presses his boxers down his thighs. He’s
going to savor it and have some fun, make good use of the full wall
and door. He shivers as he thumbs over his tip and back down, his
back already arching just slightly.
He closes his eyes and lets the visions of Harry come without filter.
He doesn’t even try to fend them off for some other wank-worthy
mental material - not when his stomach is already clenching in
anticipation.

202
It’s all over quickly - embarrassingly fast and sooner than he
anticipates. He wants to blame the time since his last orgasm but he
thinks the blame rests solely on one person’s shoulders – their green
eyes and pink, pink lips in particular.
He’s not even mad, as he lays there - come cooling on his stomach
and his chest rattling with his breath. He feels like a fresh can of
soda - fizzing from his toes to his fingers. He’s pretty sure this is the
best nap he’s ever taken.

*
Harry is awake already when Louis stumbles out of his room an
hour later. He may have dozed until he got hard again and then
doubled his pleasure for the day before taking a leisurely shower in
the en suite and pulling himself off just one more time. Not that
anyone ever needs to know that.
Harry is sitting at the breakfast nook Louis didn’t take the time to
notice on the first or second time he walked inside the cabin. Harry
is reading a book and wearing what must be his riding gear of tight
black jeans, white Nike shoes and a grey t-shirt. There’s an apple
and a water bottle next to his arm and his hair is only half-dry,
curling around his ears.
He looks up when he hears Louis coming, his smile loose and
relaxed. “Good morning,” he says.
He sounds a bit too cheerful for Louis not to be suspicious, though
maybe Harry enjoyed his alone time the same as Louis did. Louis
almost trips walking down the hallway at that - the thought of both
of them getting off with a paper thin wall between them is too much
for his sex drenched brain to process.

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“Morning,” Louis says, recovering before his mind goes too far off
track. “Did you buy a snack?” He asks, gesturing at Harry’s water
and half-eaten apple.
“The fridge is fully stocked,” Harry says happily. He takes a
crunchy bite from his apple. “It’s all sex snacks though, beware.”
This time Louis does trip and then catches himself on the counter.
“Sorry, what?”
“It’s all the food you’re supposed to use to refuel after sex,” Harry
says, smiling as he chews the hunk of apple he’s pulled off. “Like
chocolate milk, cheese, apples, bananas.”
Louis opens the refrigerator hesitantly and Harry is right on the
money - everything in there is easily accessible finger foods and
straight out of a high school health textbook.
“It could just be for after hiking and stuff,” Louis says reasonably,
getting out his own apple and a carton of chocolate milk. “You need
to refuel the same way, you know.”
“Is that why my bathroom was fully stocked with three kinds of
condoms and fourteen different kinds of lube?”
Louis’s eyes go wide and he splutters through a laugh, clueless
where to start. “Fourteen kinds of lube?” It seems as reasonable of a
beginning as any. He runs water over his apple to clean it as Harry
laughs.
“All sorts of flavors, heating, cooling, everything you could think
of. There were doubles of ones that were half-used. Like I was
going to use the same one as some stranger,” Harry rolls his eyes,
“Yeah, right.”

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Louis stares hard at his apple, drying it with a paper towel in
repeated motions. Thinking of Harry getting off is enough, thinking
of Harry with lube and making a real mess out of things is far too
much for Louis to deal with coherently.
“I mean, like, theoretically,” Harry says. He bites his apple and
refuses to make eye contact. “If I were to use it, I meant.”
“Right,” Louis says with a definite nod. He bites hard on his apple
and chews with his gaze out the window on the side of the cabin.
“It is Lover’s Lane,” Harry says, looking up from his lap when
Louis looks over. He grins widely and Louis laughs, shaking his
head. So he did notice the obnoxious sign out front. There’s a
bubble of tension that’s been between them since dawn and it’s
slowly deflating, punctuated with sex jokes and laughter. Louis will
take what he can get.

*
Once he’s changed into his own horse riding attire - black jeans,
Adidas, and a long sleeved white shirt with a heart embroidered on
the front pocket - Louis leads the way to their horseback riding
adventure. Or, Harry leads the way via his tourist map and Louis
walks two steps ahead of him.
They get a quick lesson in riding from someone in actual riding
pants with a fancy jacket and then they’re climbing onto their
assigned horses along with twelve other people in the group. Harry
can’t stop smiling and Louis tries to match his spirit, though being
up on the horse and looking down at the ground doesn’t make him
feel very steady.
Their instructor goes over the basic lessons again and Louis tries to
follow though Harry is a weary distraction. It’s not even his face

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pulling Louis’s focus this time but the way he keeps petting his
horse and leaning forward to whisper in his ear. He keeps kissing
the top of the horse’s head and it’s impossibly adorable even if the
horse probably thinks it’s a wayward fly.
The path down to the river is narrow and Louis ends up behind
Harry but near the middle of the group. It’s uncomfortable to get
used to the hitch in the horse’s step but it becomes easier as the ride
goes along, Louis even reaching up to pet his horse the way Harry
was earlier. The greenery around them is mostly evergreen but there
are some trees changing color slowly. Harry has his camera around
his neck as always and takes a few pictures in passing though he
keeps one hand on his horse while he does it.
Mostly, it takes everything Louis has not to stare at Harry’s ass. It’s
enough his ridiculous long legs are straddling a horse but his tight
jeans don’t help, neither does the roll of his hips when he tries to
match the pace of the trotting horse. It makes Louis feel like
coming three times in one afternoon was just not enough.
They break into a field after the more narrow paths and Louis is
saved from watching Harry’s thighs flex since there is more room
for them to walk next to each other.
“Did you ever want a horse as a kid?” Harry asks when Louis
shows up next to him. He kisses behind the horse’s right ear and
then rubs the spot with his fingers.
“No,” Louis says, “I was much more interested in a skateboard. All
my sisters though, horses and unicorns were right on the top of
every wish list.”
Harry smiles, “My sister asked for a horse and my parents got her a
stuffed one. She was not impressed.”

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Louis laughs and adjusts his grip on the stirrups. The horses are
mostly grazing but still moseying along toward the river at a slow
gait. “I can’t believe parents are allowed to pull that shit. There
should be some sort of rule against that.”
Harry smirks, “I think that’s exactly the kind of dad I’ll be, though.
A balance of unconditional love and relentless teasing.”
“I could see that,” Louis says, narrowing his eyes and nodding.
“What about you? Did you ever want a horse?”

Harry shakes his head, “No.”

“Were you one of those realistic kids who asked for school supplies
for Christmas?”
Harry’s laugh is so loud and abruptly, a couple of other people look
over at them. Louis fights his own smile, his lips twitching. It
should be weird between them - it should be uncontrollably
awkward considering they kind of kissed overnight and still haven’t
mentioned it. Not that he’s going to be the one to bring it up, but
still. Things shouldn’t be this easy.
“I asked for a trip to the moon, actually,” Harry says, a smile still
playing on his mouth. “I thought
I wanted to be an astronaut, I also didn’t realize how tricky it was to
get to the moon.”
Louis scrunches his nose, “Yeah, that’s quite a difficult ask, isn’t
it?”

Harry nods. “I was devastated, obviously.”

“Is that why you gave up being an astronaut?”

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“No, I hate science,” he says. “I love space and the idea of floating
and seeing all the stars up close, touching the moon. But doing an
actual equation to get there or explaining gravity? I’d rather gag.”

“Ah, well, dream big then,” Louis says, laughing.

*
The water comes into view just shortly after and the horses all stop
like they’ve been trained for this exact moment. Their instructor
tells them all to dismount for a break and to let their horses get
water. Louis’s stomach swoops as he slides to the ground because
his legs feel like jelly.
Their horses go to the water on their own, so Harry takes pictures
while Louis finds a dry patch of grass to sit on, stretching his legs in
front of him, his head tipped back toward the sun. Harry joins him
eventually, sitting a foot away and going through his pictures
silently. Louis hears the telltale click of Harry’s camera and opens
one eye to find the lens pointed at him. He holds out his palm and
Harry turns away, laughing.
“You’re going to end up with too many pictures of me and nothing
to do with them,” Louis warns, dropping his hand as Harry secures
the lens back on his camera.
“I’ve put a couple on my blog already,” Harry says. He laughs when
Louis frowns. “You’re just as much part of this trip as the giant
totem poles and upside down Cadillacs.” “The most exciting part,”
Louis teases, closing his eyes again.
“Definitely keeping me on my toes,” Harry says.
Louis cracks an eye open but Harry isn’t looking at him this time,
his face tilted back toward the sun like a flower. “I hope that’s a
good thing,” he says, dusting his palms.

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Harry hums and Louis openly stares while he waits for further
explanation. It doesn’t come and even if it was going to - the
moment is called off by the instructor telling them to get back on
their horses for the ride back.
Louis doesn’t press Harry for an answer after that. He’s still
replaying what Harry said on the side of the highway - if you knew
how I felt about you - and now this non-answer of a hum is going to
join that rotation. It’s easier for Louis to analyze Harry than it is to
analyze what his obsession with the way Harry feels might truly
mean.

*
Once the horses are all back in their stables, Louis and Harry
venture down to the edge of the canyon and find a good place to sit
and observe the scenery. Harry takes pictures for a while and the
only sound around them is the dull click of Harry’s camera. Louis
might be starting to find comfort in the sound.
After, they find a small loop of street vendors selling food and they
both get tacos to eat on a picnic bench near their cabin. They split a
pot brownie once they finish just for the sake of being in Colorado
where marijuana is legal and also because Louis thinks they
deserve a bit of legal drug use after the last twenty-four hours.
There’s barely enough weed to affect them more than a pleasant
sleepiness as they make their way back to the cabin.
They watch a couple of reruns of Jersey Shore before Pretty Woman
comes on. Louis would usually change the channel without
questions but Harry makes a low, pleased sound when Julia Roberts
comes on the screen so he doesn’t. They talk aimlessly throughout
the movie both of their words starting to slow as they get more

209
tired. Harry is the one to go to bed first though Louis follows soon
after.
There’s no television in the bedrooms so he settles himself with
watching the stars out his window, knowing Harry is doing the
same thing on the opposite side of the wall. As Louis drifts to sleep,
he still can’t believe they made it the entire day without talking
about the kiss, about whether anyone liked it or it was a massive
mistake. Louis knows his answers, at least.
He tries not to be bothered Harry didn’t mention it or even allude to
the fact it happened. It’s only when Louis is barely hanging onto
wakefulness he realizes what’s bothering him the most is that he’s
the one who stopped it. He’ll never get the chance to know what
would have happened next, where things would have gone after
Harry sighed against his lips. The disappointment curling in his
stomach puts him soundly to sleep.

DAY EIGHT

Vogel Canyon, Colorado

Louis wakes up naturally around eight and prays it’s only the excess
amount of sleep he got the day before, not him catching on to
Harry’s routine. He takes a shower and gets dressed casually in
shorts and a t-shirt, well aware they have to make up some driving
ground today.
Harry’s door is firmly shut when he steps into the hallway. Louis
decides to let him sleep, wandering into the kitchen to eat a variety
of sex snacks for breakfast while he waits for Harry to get up. He
only pities himself a little bit that he’s not actually had sex in
Lover’s Lane and is now eating sex snacks by himself.

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Eight rolls slowly into nine and Louis gets a bit antsy. He turns on
the morning news and turns it off almost immediately when he feels
a subtle wave of anxiety. He looks up the best route to Santa Rosa
from here and then browses around some of the more touristy
things - pretty positive that’s what Harry is going to make him do.

There’s still no sign of Harry.

It’s an accident when it happens, really. Louis walks down the
hallway to see if Harry has woken up, or maybe gotten in the
shower. He stands perfectly still outside his door listening for any
movement which is when he hears the one sound that changes the
rest of his life.

Harry moaning.
It’s a choked off breathless sound but Louis recognizes it
immediately. Harry is definitely awake and definitely on the edge
of coming. Louis hears the same sound again but lower and he
rushes backward, tripping into his room and slamming the door, his
heart beating fiercely.
He holds his breath when he hears Harry’s door click open and then
gasps out loud when the door shuts again. He probably heard Louis
and just checked to see if the coast is clear because now he’s
finishing himself off. Louis’s imagination is a runaway train and he
sees flashes of Harry biting his lip, Harry twisting his hand and
thumbing over a pearl of precome, Harry biting into his forearm as
he orgasms.
“Stop it,” Louis says pointedly to his dick, now chubbing up with
all the help in the world from his illustrious mind. “Stop it.”
Louis’s blood pays him no mind and all rushes toward his crotch in
a hurry, leaving him with a boner from just his imagination -

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unfortunately not for the first time in the past twenty-four hours.
This must be why god hasn’t allowed them to have separate rooms
on the road trip so far - they’re incapable of respecting their privacy
without jerking themselves blind.
Louis palms over himself just to take the edge off. He’s not sure
what good it’s going to do when he actually has to see Harry in the
next few minutes. See what he looks like in an orgasmic haze - if
his lips are bitten red or his cheeks are flushed.

God dammit.
Louis strips off his clothes in a hurry and walks into the shower
while it’s still cold, one hand already on his cock. Maybe they were
never supposed to kiss, never be more than almost-friends, but
someone definitely forgot to send that memo to his sex drive.

*
Louis ends up being the late one after his second orgasm of the
morning, though he tries to scramble back into his clothes quickly
when he hears Harry moving around in the hallway.
“Late start?” He asks Harry when he makes his way into the
kitchen.
Harry is sitting at the nook with a plate of sliced apples and cheese,
munching happily on his own sex snacks. He’s wearing an electric
pink sweatshirt and faded blue jeans, his socks covered in tiny
rainbows. “Felt like catching some extra sleep, yeah. Sorry.”
Liar. Louis smiles with closed lips. “No worries, I needed the extra
snooze time anyway,” Louis lies right back to him. He gets a water
bottle out of the fridge and thinks Harry’s skin might be glowing,
his eyes may be brighter. Get it together, Tomlinson. He drinks

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almost the entire water bottle in one breath before his imagination
can really get going again.
“Let’s get on the road,” he says when he can breathe after
swallowing. “Someone detoured and now we have ground to make
up.”
A flicker of shock crosses Harry’s face at Louis’s demand but it
slips away into a smile. “My, my how the tables have turned,” he
crows, popping his last apple piece into his mouth. “And I’m the
one with the stick up my ass.”

“I never said that,” Louis says, out loud , he adds silently.

“Yeah but you’ve thought it,” Harry winks and crumples the paper
towel he was using as a plate. Louis rolls his eyes but Harry’s good
mood may as well be infectious because he cracks a smile anyway.

*
“We’ve got a four hour drive,” Louis announces as they pile their
bags into the car.
“And you should drive it,” Harry says, shutting the back door.
“Since you got us into this mess.”
Louis narrows his eyes; he certainly wouldn’t call their day in
Colorado a mess though it did have the aspects that were a bit
sloppier - the fucking kiss - than others. “Fair enough,” he says.
If they’re back to teasing, he’ll handle it. It’s better than silence,
better than tension. Better than how Louis spent half of yesterday
alternating between orgasming to visions of Harry and wondering
what it would be like to kiss his stupid lips again.
Harry pauses, the corner of his lips turning up. “I’m kidding,” he
says. “You drove last night. I’ll do it.”

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Louis rubs his finger over the edge of the key. “Are you sure? I
really can. It’s not a big deal.”
“Self-sacrifice is such a lovely trait,” Harry says, smiling fully. “But
I’m really more about sharing.” He takes the keys from Louis
without another word and gets in the driver’s seat.
Louis isn’t sure what Harry was getting at with his last words - if
he’s the one imagining the sexual innuendo there. “Probably,” he
answers himself out loud as he walks to the other side of the Jeep.
“What?”
Louis looks up to see Harry has both of the windows rolled down.
He barely suppresses an eye roll.
“Nothing,” he says, “Just talking to myself.” At least this time, it’s
not a lie.

*
Southeastern Colorado is flat and dry and then steadily more green
and hilly until they crossover until New Mexico and the most
oasislooking scenery they’ve seen thus far.
“It’s so green,” Harry comments as they follow along a curved part
of the road, evergreens on both sides.
“Well now you’ve fucking jinxed it,” Louis says just as the
landscape turns back into drylands and scrub brushes.

Harry laughs like he can’t believe it. “Whoops.”

It continues on like that through New Mexico though the greener
parts start to stretch on a bit longer and the deserts aren’t nearly as
barren.

214
They take a lazy attempt at the license plate game and then start in
on twenty-one questions which is more difficult than they anticipate
when Harry can’t decide on a question and Louis loses count of
how many questions he’s asked.
“There’s a game my sister and I used to play when we went on road
trips to our grandparents house,” Harry says when twenty-one
questions goes south.
“What was it?” Louis asks as he blows on the black coffee they got
at a gas station.
Harry puts his own coffee in the cup holder and shrugs. “Don’t
think it had a name. But everyone would get words from different
signs and then say them in order.”

Louis looks over. “What order?”

“Alphabetical,” Harry says like it’s obvious. “So you would see
‘Available’ on a billboard so you get a point and then I see ‘Black’
on a sign so I get a point. And you go through the alphabet.”
Louis looks out the window and sees a Walmart and then a whole
lot of nothing. He glances back at Harry.
“Or not,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. “You look like I just told you
to cut your own ear off, by the way.”
Louis cracks a smile and runs his fingers over his lips. “Maybe
that’s just what my face looks like, you know.”
“It’s not,” Harry says, too quickly to not be suspicious. Louis raises
his eyebrows and Harry blushes. “You have a good face,” he says
without letting his words betray the pinkness of his cheeks. “That’s
all I’m saying.”

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Louis smiles out the window, unsure what he’s really supposed to
say to that. “You have a good face too,” he manages as a delayed
response a full two minutes later. Sometimes Harry makes him feel
like he’s experiencing his first crush all over again - stumbling over
his words. Louis clears his throat and turns the music back up
louder. “Maybe that’s enough road trip games for now,” he says.
“If you’re scared of a little competition,” Harry says dismissively, a
smile biting at his lips.
Louis just sighs and puts his feet up on the dashboard. Harry
doesn’t even try to make him stop.

*
Nearly five hours after they leave Vogel Canyon with only a stop
for coffee and a subsequent bathroom stop, the slight desert gives
way to oasis and endless blue water in Santa Rosa, New Mexico.
The clear skies overhead make the water seem more blue, barely
rippling with the winding standing still.
“Gorgeous,” Louis whispers without really thinking about it,
carefully trying to take everything in at once. He looks over at
Harry to see a self-satisfied smile and he laughs. “Why do you look
like that?”
“This is the first thing I’ve chosen to visit that you actually seem
impressed by,” Harry says, slowing the Jeep into the parking alcove
of an overlook spot.
“That’s not true,” Louis says quickly, though it may very well be.
He hasn’t done a great job of hiding his distaste for most of the
places they’ve stopped at along the way, though he hopes Harry
doesn’t think he’s hated every minute.

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“Don’t worry, I know you warm up to all of it eventually,” he says.
There’s no intent in his voice as he smiles and pulls the key from
the ignition.
The overlook is a good spot to take the entire lake in, a few
abandoned docks and a swath of tourists at the far edge. The sky is
blue in every direction and the rolling fields around the lake seem
to go uninterrupted for miles. Even with tourists nearby, Louis feels
like they’re completely alone on the edge of the earth.
“What’s your plan?” Louis asks, more than sure there Harry has
one.
“This is all we’re doing today,” Harry says quietly as though to
preserve the silent moment around them. “And driving to Santa Fe
tonight,” he adds.
He’s surprised there is no touristy catch for once. “We’re just
hanging out at the lake?”
Harry smiles, “Yeah. I say we get lunch and go there.” He points to
one of the abandoned docks on the other side. “Pretend the entire
lake is ours.”

For once, Louis can’t think of anything he’d rather do.

*
They end up buying sandwiches and chips at a small convenience
store near the dock Harry pointed out and then backing the Jeep as
low toward the lake as they can. Which means Louis covers his
eyes when Harry throws the Jeep in reverse and accelerates
backwards toward the water.
In Harry’s trunk of endless wonders, he has beach towels they
spread out on the dock and then they take turns using the backseat

217
as a dressing room to change into swim trunks. Louis applauds
when Harry climbs out of the car which earns him a narrowed eye
glare.
“What?” Louis says, trying to conceal his smile. “I can’t imagine
navigating your giraffe legs was easy to do in such a confined
space.”
Harry’s lips pop into a perfect pout that Louis barely notices once
his gaze falls to just how short Harry’s bright blue swim shorts are.
He has a tattoo in the middle of his thigh that Louis is seeing for the
first time and makes him go a bit cross-eyed. Harry is smirking
when Louis regains his composure and Louis heads for their
almost-changing room without another word. Harry thinks he’s shy
but he certainly knows what he looks like, definitely knows it
works to his advantage in every possible way.
They eat their lunch out on the dock and then Harry dives into the
water while Louis stretches out to take a nap. He’s sure he’ll be
sunburnt by the time he wakes up but the warmth is far too
tempting to stay awake. Harry splashes water at him twice; his
laughter echoing each time Louis flinches at the impact. Eventually,
though, Harry pulls his body up onto the dock and lays down on his
own beach towel quietly.
“This is what having kids must be like,” Louis says without opening
his eyes. “Incredibly annoying until they lay down to take a nap.”
“Did you just refer to me as your kid?” Harry asks incredulously.
Louis doesn’t have to look over to see the facial expression he must
be making.
“Don’t make it weird,” Louis says. He lays his hands over his ribs
and starts to fall asleep to the lull of his own breathing.

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He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep - if he’s even made it to
sleep fully - when Harry’s, “Oh my god,” startles him into a half
sitting position.
“What?” He asks, though Harry is in too much of a hurry to pay
attention, scrambling up on his feet and then running for the Jeep.
Louis glances around for imminent danger and then stretches his
arms up in the air to work out the kinks in his back. Before he can
decide between going back to sleep and following Harry, he sees
Harry walking back down from the car holding something clear in
his hand.
“I forgot about this,” he says, grinning wildly in a way that
makes Louis smile too. He’s helpless to it.

“What is it?” “You put it on your phone and then you

can take pictures underwater.”

Louis’s smile slips slightly. “H, that sounds like a scam.”

Harry shakes his head as he sits back on his towel. “It’s not.”
Harry sound so sure about his contraption while Louis is pretty sure
they’re going to have to buy a bag of rice to dry Harry’s phone out
on their way to Santa Fe.
While Harry puts his phone in the plastic holder, Louis finds
himself staring down at Harry’s ankles, the inked words along the
front of them. He drags his eyes slowly up to Harry’s thigh to study
the tiger tattoo again, his lip drawing under his teeth as he looks at
the subtle lines and shading. Harry has a lot of random ink - all on
display at the moment, too. Louis wants to know what every piece
means, whether there’s a meaning or not. He wants to know what
made Harry get them and what one is his favorite.

219
“Got it.”
Louis pulls from his wayward thoughts with a physical jolt,
focusing back on Harry’s hands. His phone is secure in the plastic
container and there’s a plastic covered cord reaching from inside
the phone to Harry’s hand with a button for taking photos. It looks
like a Dollar Tree purchase and Louis is a bit worried about it.
“Are you sure?” He asks as Harry knee walks to the edge of the
dock.
“Guess I’ll find out,” Harry says just before diving off the edge with
his phone in hand. Louis pinches the bridge of his nose - being this
infatuated with Harry cannot be good for his health.
Harry pops up a few feet from the dock with a grin, his wet hair
falling in his face. “I think it works.”
“Can you even see?” Louis glances into the water. It is bluer, by
contrast, than a lot of lakes he’s visited but it’s still dark toward the
bottom.
“You can see the sun’s reflection,” Harry says, smiling like he can’t
stop. “Come in, I’ll show you.”
Louis sighs. “I’m enjoying the sun from up here right now.”
Harry’s smile dims. “You’re the one who always says I’m boring ”

“I’ve never said that,” Louis intones loudly.

“You’ve implied it,” Harry says with a tilt of his head. “And I’m
trying not to be boring. I’m trying.”
There’s something so earnest in the way he says it, Louis wants to
fling himself off the dock. “You don’t need to try to be anything,”
Louis says because he’ll regret it if he doesn’t. “There’s nothing
wrong with the way you are.”

220
Harry nods, “I think there are some things about me that I’ve
forgotten about. Things I used to like I forgot in the process of
trying to control everything.” He makes it sound like he’s thought
about this longer than one afternoon and it seems stark and serious
for their current position.

“Things like taking underwater pictures?” Louis says with a smirk.

Harry smiles softly, “Exactly that.” He flicks some water up toward
Louis and it splatters across his chest. “So, please come in with me.
Please.”
Louis is lost before he even sets his sunglasses on the dock and
makes a move to get in the water.
As if he could say no to a smile like that.

*
Louis has no idea if the camera works. They won’t know until they
get out of the water but he can’t stop using it once he dives in with
Harry and steals the things from him. He swims up from under
Harry and then takes a shot half in the water and half out, Harry’s
mouth wide open as he goes to say something. The water is so clear
in Blue Hole he can see Harry when they swim under and see the
shape of him when he floats on top.
Harry takes it back eventually and starts taking pictures of his own,
diving down to the bottom of the lake and then coming up gasping
for air. They float around on their backs when they get tired of the
camera and talk about things that don’t matter like whether chunky
peanut butter is better than smooth and who their first celebrity
crushes were. It’s all stupid - and normally Louis would be the first
to point it out. Somehow floating in an empty lake with Harry
makes it all seem too important to miss.

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The entire afternoon is a mix of the same: snacking, dozing,
photography, and swimming in an endless cycle. There’s a certain
twilight zone vibration to the entire thing, like he’s sitting under a
wave and waiting for it to crash over him. There has to be a crash
coming, he thinks. They can’t just act as though nothing happened
between them.
“What are you thinking about?” Harry asks as he pulls himself out
of the water again.
“What?” Louis lifts his head from studying the lines he was
drawing on his beach towel with his finger.
“You have your thinking face on,” Harry says, nudging his face
toward Louis’s. “I’ve had a lot of time to figure out your different
faces and moods.” He plops back down on his towel like he hasn’t
said something slightly startling.

“Oh have you?” Louis asks, smirking. “You think you know me?”

“No,” Harry says easily. “But I think I’d like to.”

Louis pulls his knees up and settles his forearms over them, looking
out over the lake and he can feel Harry looking at him. He can’t
figure out how Harry gets away with saying things like that with
making everything sound like a simple request.
Louis exhales slowly. “What would you like to know?” In the quiet
that lingers he turns to look Harry.
Harry is mirroring him, his knees pulled up under his chin, eyes cast
over the water. As if he can feel Louis’s gaze, he looks over.
“What?”

222
Louis smiles into the side of his arm. “I asked you a question.” “I’m
thinking,” Harry says, blinking slowly. “Give me a second, here.”
Louis’s lips twitch and he looks back out over the water, waiting.
“The guy who broke your heart,” Harry says slowly, “What did he
do?”
Louis looks back so quickly his neck almost tweaks. “I thought
you’d want to know my biggest fears or something.”
Harry smiles and lays the side of his head on the top of his knees.
“Maybe later.”
Louis rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath. “It was all kind of
fucked up in the end. His parents didn’t want him to have a
boyfriend and he took them up on it. Kind of left me in the dust in
the process.”
“A boyfriend because it was romantic or a boyfriend because you’re
a guy?”
Louis glances over; Harry’s more perceptive than he lets on.
“Because I have a dick.”
“I see,” Harry says, tapping his fingers where they rest over his
calves. “And you haven’t dated anyone else since that?”
Louis is so confused where this line of questioning is headed but he
goes along anyway. “No. I don’t really date anymore. I think
staying unattached is easier, honestly.” It sounds as lonely as it is,
but he keeps that part to himself.
“What would it take?” Harry asks quietly. “What would it take for
you to date someone seriously again?”
Louis can’t hold Harry’s eyes anymore and follows a broken line in
the dock to the water. “It would take someone I couldn’t imagine

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not getting to spend more time with,” he says. “Someone who I
knew - whatever happened - it would be worth it.”
Right when Louis thinks Harry is done talking, he says something
more.
“You’d tell them?” Harry asks, “You’d tell them if you thought they
were important enough to be serious with?”
Louis’s eyebrows pull together, no longer following. Harry licks his
lips.
“When you find someone you want to be serious about,” he says,
“You’ll tell them, right? You’d tell them no one else has made you
feel that way and they’re so important you’ll change everything?”
Louis nods his head; it’s not something he’d ever thought about. In
all honestly, he’d written that sort of thing off already. “Yeah,” he
settles on finally. “I think I would.”
Harry is quiet for a moment. “I thought Matt was the end of the
earth but I never was that for him.
He didn’t want anything serious and I threw everything I had at him
until I was left holding onto nothing. I don’t want you to be
someone’s Matt.”
Louis feels a flare of anger but Harry shakes his head.
“Not that you ever would be,” he says quickly. “I’m not saying that.
I was only saying it so you would know. You would know what it
feels like on the other side. To be someone’s Harry.”
Louis doesn’t know what to say all over again. Harry’s face is
drawn but he doesn’t look like he’s bracing for sympathy. He only
looks like he wants Louis to listen to him. It’s just like the night at
the bar, Harry slowly letting him in. It doesn’t mean Louis’s heart

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isn’t curling at the edges like a worn book for the person in front of
him; a boy who fell so in love he got lost in it and no one tried to
find him.
“I appreciate the warning but I don’t think it’s anything you have to
worry about,” Louis says finally. “I’m not planning to fall in love
anytime soon.” He thinks he imagines the flicker in Harry’s eyes, a
trick of the light. “Did you tell Matt?” Louis asks. “When you knew
you loved him?”
Harry smiles then, “No.” He scrunches his nose and then straightens
it like a rabbit just waking up. “I’m not so good with words. I
sometimes think if I show people what I feel, they’ll get it. That I
don’t have to say it.”
Louis smirks. “Can I just say that so far, you have yet to run out of
words when we’re together? You keep telling me you’re shy and
quiet when all I see is talkative and combative. Are you lying to
me?”
Harry’s eyes sparkle this time when he laughs. “No,” he says. “It’s a
comfort thing. I don’t like to talk to people if they’re only doing it
to be polite or putting up with me.”
Louis remembers what Harry said about not being wanted, about
talking to someone who doesn’t actually care what he has to say.
Louis thinks it’s something more - Harry is scared of letting people
get too close who turn out to be assholes. He already let someone
get close who hurt him, Louis can tell he won’t make the same
mistake twice. He isn’t going to be someone’s Harry the same way
as he was to Matt.
“I get it,” Louis says, though half of what he understands was not
offered out loud. “I’m, um, glad you feel comfortable with me.”

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Harry smiles and it’s small. “I thought you’d give me shit for that.”
Louis licks his bottom lip and blinks twice. “Maybe later,” he says,
smiling slowly. “We’ll see.”

*
When they pack into the car as the sun starts to set Louis feels the
pleasant ache of a sunburn mixed with the not so pleasant feeling of
lake residue, of sand on his legs and between his fingers. He pulls
on a pair of track pants and a sweatshirt before climbing into the
driver’s seat while Harry does the same and gets in the passenger
seat. Harry puts Santa Fe into the directions with a yawn and Louis
puts Sam Smith on the stereo again - something about Sam feels
fitting.
If Louis had to write it down, he couldn’t. It’s more of a feeling
than a tangible thing, this feeling rolling in his stomach about
Harry. There’s been a shift in the last day, he thinks. Something has
made them softer toward each other, almost safeguarding what they
spent a full week poking holes in. Louis doesn’t know how to
explain it, even to himself. They still banter, bicker, and fight a bit
but they’re learning each other’s soft spots, too. They’re
memorizing the ways they’ll never want to hurt each other.
They stop for dinner at an organic burger place just off the highway
and end up eating at a picnic table, noses red from the sun and
appetites raging. Louis claims it’s the first time he’s ever eaten
anything organic and Harry rolls his eyes like Louis is a habitual
exaggerator.
“I don’t mind organic foods,” Harry says. “Just expensive, you
know.”

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“Tastes the same as everything else, honestly,” Louis says, licking a
blip of mustard from his finger. “I don’t see what the big deal is.
Unless you’re growing your own stuff, there is no way to tell if it’s
been doused in chemicals or whatever.”
Harry chews with a smile curling on his lips. “I rented a garden
plot,” he offers apropos of nothing.

Louis raises his eyebrows, “Where?”

“At school.” Harry swallows and wipes his hands with a napkin -
probably also claiming to be organic. “I saw there was a place to
rent plots in the student center so I signed up. There was a whole
wait list but I got in at the end of the school year.”
Louis tries to imagine it - Harry in a gardening sun hat and some
floral gloves tending to a rosebush. It’s not as hard to imagine as he
anticipates. “What are you going to grow?”
“Mostly vegetables,” Harry says. “I’m doing tomatoes and
cucumbers for now. And I want to do pumpkins for the fall.”
Louis laughs and shakes his head, “Somehow that sounds exactly
like something you would spend your free time doing.”
Harry smiles and bites a fry in half. “You can come visit my garden
sometime. I’ll let you.”
It’s the first time either of them have mentioned anything about seeing
each other once they arrive in LA. Louis is barely coming to terms
with the fact he would like for that to happen - let alone actually say
it out loud.
“I’d like that,” he says. “That way I can make fun of you in person
and not just in my head.”

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“Oh, Louis,” Harry says, shaking his head, “Are you always this
charming?”
“Only for you,” Louis says sweetly, laughing when Harry stares
blankly at him.

*
New Mexico makes for a gorgeous night drive. The wide open
spaces leave the sky an inky black with room for the stars to poke
through like a red carpet for the moonlight. There are some
mountains in the far off distance but the flat brush seems to curve
on forever, Highway 25 swerving through far-reaching ranches and
smaller homes.
“This is one of the prettier drives,” Louis comments, stretching his
neck to see the full sky from inside the car.
“I wouldn’t mind stargazing on a night like this,” Harry says.
“Usually that kind of stuff puts me to sleep.”

“Do you want to stop?” Louis asks, anticipating the answer.

“Yes,” Harry says earnestly. Louis’s surprise writes across his face
and Harry smiles. “We can’t but I’d like to.”
“Why can’t we?” Louis asks without slowing the car. He wants to
see what Harry has for an excuse this time.
“We need to get to Santa Fe and I’m worried if we’re too late, there
won’t be rooms available.”
It’s a justifiable answer but Louis doesn’t really want to take it.
“What hotel do you want to stay in?”

Harry shrugs, “I don’t know. Just something cheap, I guess.”

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Louis raises his eyebrows once and then takes Harry’s phone from
his hand. He drops his eyes off the road to press the hotel icon and
then hits ‘Call’ for the first one listed.
“What are you doing?” Harry whisper yells, reaching for the phone.
Louis bats his hand away.
“Hello,” he says loudly when someone answers. He glares at Harry
to make him stop trying to grab at him. “I’d like to reserve a room
for the night. Two beds, please.”
Harry stares curiously until his lips twitch into a smile as Louis
requests a late night check-in and throws Harry an incredibly smug
look. He hangs up the phone and tosses it back and Harry curls his
lips in an attempt to hide his smile.
“I didn’t even think about that,” Harry says. “Like, didn’t cross my
mind once.”

Louis shrugs, “S’what you have me for, yeah?”

Harry’s answering, “Yeah,” gets lost in the skid of the Jeep tires as
Louis pulls off the highway and onto a gravel shoulder. “Now what
are you doing?”

“Stopping to stargaze,” Louis says with an eye roll. “Obviously.”

He leaves Harry sitting in the car in a daze when he gets out. He
opens the back hatch and tugs out one of the wool blankets they’d
used at the drive in movie and then shuts it with a thud. Harry
jumps when Louis opens the driver’s side door again. “How mad
will you be if I sit on the hood of the car?”
“Not very,” Harry says, slowly. Louis gives him a thumbs up and
then shuts the door, heading for the front of the car.

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Carefully, he lays out the blanket and pulls it up to the bottom of the
windshield and then smoothes it down over the hood. Harry is still
watching him without moving so Louis knocks on the window to
get him moving. Harry opens his car door slowly.
Getting on the hood isn’t as easy as Louis imagined but he lodges
one foot in the well of the wheel and hoists his other leg up until he
can sit perfectly on the hood. The Jeep is relatively wide and flat so
there’s room for him to put his legs out straight, and extra room
under his feet which means Harry’s long legs can fit too.

“Come up,” he says patting the spot next to him.

Watching Harry attempt to get on the roof is a comedic act as he
slips off the wheel multiple times before landing next to Louis with
a loud thud.
“If the hood is dented, it’s clearly your fault,” Louis says with an
unimpressed look. Harry flips him off.
It takes some minor rearranging before they can lay flat, their lower
backs propped slightly on the windshield. There’s only a slight
breeze rolling around but the night isn’t too cold, comfortable
enough in long pants and oversized sweatshirts.
“Do you do this often?” Harry asks with his hands tucked inside the
sleeves of his grey hoodie.

“Stargaze?”
“Pullover on the side of the road and get on top of your car, I
mean.”

Louis laughs lightly. “No this is definitely a first.”

“For me too,” Harry says, a smile over his words. “I like it.”

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“It’s alright,” Louis says. Harry nudges him with his shoulder and
he smiles. “It’s actually very nice. Do you want to get your
camera?”
“Not really.” He swallows and adjusts his leg, the outside of his
thigh brushes Louis’s. “It doesn’t take very good photos of dark
skies. It’s like those annoying people who take pictures of fireworks
when you really can’t see anything.”
“Hate those people,” Louis agrees easily. “Instagram is always
insufferable around the 4th of July.” He glances over to see Harry
smiling.
“Sometimes I don’t want a picture of a moment, you know? I just

want to have the memory.” Louis stays quiet, rolling Harry’s

statement in his mind. “This is a memory you want to keep?”

“Yeah,” Harry says lowly like it’s a confession.

Why? bites at the tip of Louis’s tongue but he doesn’t ask. He just
hums and lets the silence settle around them again. If Harry wants
to tell him, he will.
“Do you think there are animals out there?” Louis asks, rolling his
head to the side, to look at the wide openness of the land. It’s the
same openness that made him nervous in Texas but seems a bit
more mystic sitting here with Harry.
There’s a flutter of wind against the closer shrubs but everything
else stays quiet. Harry wiggles his shoulders. “I hope not. That’ll
give me the creeps if there are. If they’re like, watching us.” “I

231
imagine that would be pretty boring,” Louis muses. “They’d move
on soon enough.”
A coyote howls far in the distance and they both jump, knocking
shoulders and ankles in the process as they start laughing. Quiet
settles again and Louis relaxes further against the car. No one has
driven past since they’ve parked which could be the ideal setting for
a horror movie plot or just fate’s funny way of giving them some
time.
“Louis.” Harry’s voice breaks the night and Louis opens his eyes at
the sound. He hadn’t even realized he’d started to drift.

“What is it?” Louis asks, quietly.

“Nothing,” Harry says. Louis glances out of the corner of his eye
but Harry is still looking

skyward.

“Okay,” he says, closing his eyes again.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Louis stops breathing, he swears his heart skips two beats and he
keeps his eyes closed. His mouth is dry as he swallows. There’s a
list of excuses he could give, a swath of reasons he can use to bat
away the question but he doesn’t really want to. Sarcasm doesn’t
seem like the answer for this moment.
“I wanted to,” he says. It’s the most honest he’s been in longer than
he can remember, absolutely no bravado teasing over his meaning.
In the quiet that lingers, he wonders if he should apologize for it.
He knows Harry kissed him back, will never really forget the way
he sighed, but it doesn’t mean it was a well-intentioned gesture.

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“I wanted you to, too.” Harry quiets the incessant voices in Louis’s
head with his words.
He turns his head to look at Harry and finds Harry already looking
at him, their ears pressed to the windshield and eyes locked.
“Yeah?” Louis swallows and feels his heart pounding up against his
ribs. Harry nods slowly.
The next moment follows slowly, Harry’s eyes drifting all around
Louis’s face and then coming back to meet Louis’s gaze. Louis’s
mind is a runaway train going off the tracks and he doesn’t quite
know how to stop it. There are so many different ways this can turn
out - easy ones like jumping off the hood and faking an injury,
harder ones like really asking Why? out loud.

“And if I were to kiss you again?”

The quiet of the desert means he hears Harry’s small intake of
breath and sees the soft flutter of his eyelashes. “Would I like it?”

Louis nods, his cheeks turning pink already.

Harry swallows and lifts his chin, “Yes.”

Louis feels his lungs with air and when he exhales, he smiles.
“That’s good,” he says.
Harry licks his lips slowly, his pink tongue catching Louis’s eye too
easily. “Louis?”

“Hm?”

“Was that a promise or a hypothetical question?”

Louis actually laughs, barely keeping from spluttering on Harry. His
laugh fades to a quiet smile when Harry stays unmoving, his

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eyebrows drawn tight as he waits. Louis doesn’t want him to wait
any longer.
He moves slowly, lifting his hand up toward their faces. He draws
his fingertips over Harry’s cheekbone and down to his jawline,
following to his chin so he can lift Harry’s face just slightly. Harry’s
breathing is even under Louis’s gaze, his skin soft and smooth
though Louis feels a scar under where his fingertips rest.
“A promise,” he mutters softly just before he kisses Harry, the
words pressed like a ghost between their lips.
The kiss is soft and slow, hesitant under an endless sky. Then Harry
does that thing - the sigh Louis has had on repeat for two days
straight and Louis feels it like a firework under his lungs. He coaxes
Harry’s mouth open with his lips and presses his tongue in closer,
tasting Harry for the first time. He tastes like the orange soda he
drank with dinner and something so distinctly intoxicating Louis
feels like he’s losing his mind.
His hand drifts to Harry’s neck, thumbing over his pulse and then
pulling him in closer, getting lost in the heat between their mouths.
Harry moves first when he presses his whole body closer, zipping
up the space between their ribs. Louis can take the hint well enough
as he rolls onto his back and nudges Harry along with him,
adjusting so Harry settles between his legs.
Having Harry, heavy and warm, on top of him is like starting a fire
and it’s all Louis can do to stay under control as his fingers twist in
Harry’s hair and curve below his ears. Harry’s hands are braced on
either side of Louis’s head on the windshield and it makes
everything warmer, the heat of their kisses caught between them.
Louis kisses along Harry’s jaw and to his neck, instantly
memorizing the sounds Harry makes, the punch of air from his
lungs when he presses his hips against Louis’s.

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They’re in the wide open, on the side of a random road all over
again, but Louis can’t stop. He bites on the strong muscle of
Harry’s neck just to hear his skipped breath. He runs his hands over
the broad plains of Harry’s back and tucks his hand under his
sweatshirt to feel the soft warmth of his lower back as their lips
meet again.
“Oh my god,” Harry says, pulling back only slightly. Their faces are
so close he’s only a blur until he pulls back a little further and
draws into focus. His cheeks are red and his hair a complete mess
but Louis can’t stop staring, his hands roaming a thin line under
Harry’s sweatshirt, over his skin.
“Yeah?” Louis asks, smiling and then laughing as Harry kisses him
all over again. It’s more playful now, Harry biting his bottom lip
and then kissing his cheek as though he’s remembered where they
are. Louis can’t help it when he lifts his hips to press against
Harry’s again, the darkness that comes over Harry’s eyes when he
does. He knows they’re in public and uncovered but he can’t stop
the thrill he gets from that. It doesn’t help that he has Harry Styles
on top of him, messy haired and flushed and wanting to be kissed.
Harry deepens the kiss and Louis opens his mouth to him, letting
Harry take control. As soon as he does is when things go to shit - a
semi-truck blaring by them with bright lights and two trailers
thudding against the empty road.
They both jolt apart like teenagers caught by their parents and Louis
slips off the edge of the Jeep from the momentum while Harry
slides off the front, taking the blanket with him. There’s a ghostly
quiet after the truck passes, nothing but the brake lights lingering in
the darkness. The heat is gone replaced with the cold wind as they
both try to get their bearings again.

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“We should probably get back on the road,” Harry says, rolling the
blanket in his arms. He doesn’t avoid Louis’s eyes but he doesn’t
quite meet them.
“Probably,” Louis says. He licks his lips, wanting to say something
about what has just happened, terrified of leaving it in unspoken
silence like last time. “We wouldn’t want to get cited for public
indecency.” It’s not exactly what he pictured saying but it’s out
there anyway.
Harry’s reaction is immediate, a bubbled laugh that sounds like a
cackle though he covers his mouth with his hand after only a
moment.
Louis smiles, pleased. “Come on, babe,” he says, easy as anything,
getting back in the car.
He has no idea what has just happened or what it’s supposed mean
but he knows they have to keep going - they’ll figure it out
eventually.
The drive to Santa Fe and the hotel Louis has booked is barely
twenty minutes more down the road. Louis keeps smiling
intermittently though he tries to bite the inside of his cheeks a
couple times to stop it. More than once he catches Harry out of the
corner of his eye, running his fingers over his lips as if to make sure
they’re still there. Louis keeps his hands on the wheel but the
feeling is more than mutual.

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 Day 9 & 10

DAY NINE

Santa Fe, New Mexico

For perhaps the first time, Louis wakes up first and without an
alarm. He’s cocooned in his covers as the air conditioner hums
quietly in the corner.
Last night they’d come into the room quietly, taking showers and
changing for bed separately before slipping into their beds and
watching an old Friends rerun on the widescreen television. It is
officially the first time Louis has ever made out with someone on
top of a car and then slept five feet away from them without
touching. He wanted to ask Harry if he’d ever done this but he
didn’t want to have to acknowledge it all out loud. Everything
between them feels fragile and undefined; Louis doesn’t want to be
the one to break it or draw a dark line too soon.
Harry is still sleeping soundly in the bed next to him, his back to
Louis. Louis watches the way his ribs rise and fall with his breath,
the way his back shifts slightly when he moves in his sleep.
Eventually, it gets creepy and Louis gets out bed to brush his teeth
and use the toilet.

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Harry is waking up when he comes back but only barely, one eye
peeking open and following Louis across the room.

“Good morning,” Louis says softly.

“Morning.” Harry’s voice is lazy from disuse and he clears his
throat.
Louis feels Harry’s gaze as he turns down the air conditioner and
then gets back in bed pulling the sheets up to his shoulders. Harry
rolls onto his side and looks at him quietly, blinking slowly.
“Stop being creepy,” Louis says although he’s just as guilty of it.
Harry grins and rolls to his back, staring at the ceiling instead.
“What are we doing today?”
Harry turns his head on the pillow and looks at Louis. “I never
planned to be in Santa Fe,” he says.
“Last night I should have been in Pie Town.”

“Pie Town,” Louis parrots back. “Please tell me that’s a real place.”

Harry smiles, “It is. It’s about four hours east of here.”

Louis nods, “So we need to drive there today?”

Harry pushes his lips out and then goes back to staring at the
ceiling. “No. The reason I was planning to go was to stay the
Lightning Field there. You stay in a cabin and see the lightning up
close.”

Louis widens his eyes dramatically. “That sounds really cool.”

Harry glances at him with a smirk. “I know.”

“So let’s do it tonight,” Louis says. “We’ll stay in Santa Fe for the
day and drive over there this evening.”

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“Yeah?”
Louis laughs. “H, we can’t just cancel the whole trip because
someone messed it up.” He coughs and looks away pointedly when
Harry raises his eyebrows. “We do need to get to Los Angeles
eventually. We might as well enjoy it.”
Harry nods, his tongue drawing over his bottom lip. “I don’t have a
plan.”

“A plan?”

“For Santa Fe,” Harry clarifies. “There’s nothing on the itinerary.”

“Harry,” Louis says seriously, “Haven’t I shown you that the best
laid plans are those that are not laid at all?”
Harry laughs so hard he snorts and Louis glares at him. “Sorry,” he
says, sniffling. “You’re kind of ridiculous, you know.”
“I’m aware,” Louis says evenly, lips twitching. “Can I pick what we
do in Santa Fe, then? If there’s nothing else on the to-do list?”

Harry runs his teeth over his lip and shrugs. “I guess so.”
When Harry sits up, the blankets pool around his waist and Louis
feels like he’s about ten seconds from jumping onto Harry’s bed to
kiss the curve of his stomach. Fate steps in before he can and Harry
stands up, stretching languidly.

“No beer nuts. That’s my only rule.”

Louis groans and pulls the blankets up over his face. He’s never
going to live those nuts down.

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Once they’re both dressed and Harry has his camera, Louis leads
them to Cafe Pasqual’s only a few blocks from their hotel.
“They have the best breakfast quesadilla in America,” Louis says
confidently, holding the door open for Harry to go in first.

“How do you know that?”

Louis grins, “I looked on Instagram while you were in the shower.”
Harry looks half amazed and half impressed as Louis asks for a
table for two.
The quesadilla’s are delicious - if not a bit healthier than Louis
typically chooses - and the presentation is well done if Harry
pulling his camera from his backpack for a couple of shots is any
indication.
Louis can’t say he focuses on the food all that much, though.
There’s more focus on Harry, the way he talks and rambles through
his stories, the quiet way he listens to Louis. It’s all the same as it
has been but there’s an undercurrent of flirtation where there was
hesitancy before. They tease and laugh, kick each other under the
table and taste each other’s food.
It feels like a date, Louis thinks as they pay their bills and get ready
to go. It feels like he wants to hold Harry’s hand and kiss him under
the Santa Fe sun and - well, he’s really not sure that’s something he
should be feeling in the first place. Not when they’ve only kissed a
couple of times without preamble or explanation. Surely that
shouldn’t incline his stomach to twist in such knots.
“Where are we going next?” Harry asks as they walk outside after
breakfast, his lips twitching slightly like he’s asking it on purpose.
He knows it’s usually Louis demanding to know the plan.

240
Louis smiles and slips his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Does it
matter?”
Harry eyes him, walking slowly and then catches his step again.
“No, I’m just curious if you have a plan.”
“I do,” Louis says, a smile coloring his voice. “It’s a surprise.” This
part really feels like a date, too, the soft smiles and shy words, like
they’re trying to impress each other. Louis feels it curling in his
stomach and settling.

“A surprise?”
“Yeah,” Louis nods, checking the street signs as they pass to be sure
they’re walking in the correct direction. “I feel like I should make
you cover your eyes or something.”
“Kinky,” Harry says, lifting his eyebrows and laughing. Louis rolls
his eyes but feels the tease like a zip in his spine.
The streets are wide and the buildings are the color of terracotta, the
southwestern flavor far reaching to even the architecture. It’s warm
but not too hot, a good day to be walking even if their destination is
barely ten minutes from breakfast.

“You’re kidding,” Harry says, stopping short.

Louis follows Harry’s gaze to the sign announcing the Georgia
O’Keeffe museum and grins.
“We’re not going here, H.”
Harry clears his throat and nods, “Sorry. This was originally on my
Santa Fe list but then I didn’t think I’d be stopping here so I took it
off. I just got excited when I saw it.” He smiles timidly and the
things it does to Louis’s insides should not be legal.

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“Harry, I’m fucking with you,” he says, not waiting to draw out his
joke further. Not when Harry actually looks embarrassed at his own
enthusiasm. “This is exactly where we’re going.”
The confusion melts off Harry’s face and he laughs lightly, shaking
his head. He licks his bottom lip, laughing again. “Why did you
pick this? You don’t like art.”
“Maybe it’s growing on me,” Louis says with a shrug. He
halfsmiles, “Figured you would like it.”
It’s an understatement but he doesn’t know if Harry can read it. The
truth is that he saw the Georgia O'Keeffe museum pop up on his
perusal of places to go but the name had only slightly registered as
an artist he’s heard of. He clicked around to some of her quotes and
life story - finding he was smiling at the way she wrote about the
strength in being a woman, being vulnerable and creating art. He
couldn’t say for sure but she seemed like exactly the kind of artist
Harry would be interested in.
Harry’s lips part in slight awe as they walk up the winding path to
the front of the building. Louis wants to kiss him so badly he feels it
like a punch upside the stomach. He curls his fingernails against his
palms, trying to quell it.

*
Watching Harry in the museum doesn’t get old. They curve in and
out of rooms with Harry making a stray remark every once in
awhile but mostly taking it all in. Louis can’t figure out the rhyme
or reason behind the paintings Harry stops to study and the ones he
merely glances at before continuing on. Louis thinks his favorite
part is watching Harry read through the descriptions next to the
paintings and then squint at the stroke-work before smiling and
mentioning something about it he’s found worthwhile. Louis

242
doesn’t like art, not in the same way Harry does, but he thinks he
could watch Harry for hours and not get tired of it. He wonders if a
thought like that should scare him.
“She was so unafraid,” Harry says as they pass through a room
dedicated to the artist’s childhood. “She didn’t know what she was
doing but kind of just did it anyway. Put her heart out there and
hoped it wouldn’t get stomped on.”
“What a way to live,” Louis says as they pause at another painting -
this one rich in blues and purples.
Harry lifts his camera to take a shot of the painting. “I think I would
like to live that way,” he says,
“I don’t really know how, though.”
Louis hums and starts to move on but Harry stays fixated on the
painting. “I think once you get burned the first time, it’s hard to
keep yourself held open. Like, you’re just waiting to be hit again.”
Louis nods again and moves to the next painting, not wanting to say
too much. It’s hard to trust again until you know it’s worth it, he
thinks - but how in the world are you ever supposed to know what
or who is deemed worthy.
There’s a cafe in the middle of the museum with a patio
overlooking the rolling plains of New Mexico and though Harry
hesitates, Louis tells him they have the time to stop for a snack. He
pushes Harry to go sit and then orders them two cups of tea he
carefully takes outside. He stares at Harry for a moment, his camera
and phone on the wrought iron patio table and his legs stretched out
in front of him, eyes cast somewhere over the horizon. He looks
like the picture of relaxed in his faded blue jeans and converse, like
there’s nowhere else he’d like to be.

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“This is such a good surprise,” Harry says when he hears Louis
coming and looks over.
“The tea?” Louis hands him his cup with a raised eyebrow as he sits
in the chair next to Harry’s.
“No,” Harry says. He takes the lid from the cup to let the steam roll
out. Louis does the same though his has a bit of milk in it which
speeds the process. “This day.”
Louis’s lips twitch as he tries not to smile. “Did you doubt my
planning skills?”
“Not at all. I just wasn’t sure what we’d be doing. I don’t like not
knowing.”

“Not one for surprise parties then?”

Harry blows softly on his tea and glances up. “Hate surprise parties.
Hate .” “Noted,” Louis says, trying not to smile again.
“I don’t much like surprises in general,” Harry says. “I like to plan
them but I don’t like them to happen to me.”

“But you like today?”

Harry nods, “I like today.”

Louis smiles and takes the first sip of his tea. “Good.”

*
The museum takes another couple of hours once they finish their
drinks. As they walk, all Louis can think about is how badly he
doesn’t want the night before to be the only night like it. He wants
to taste Harry’s lips again, feel his breath against his mouth. He
might be developing an addiction as he finds his eyes tracing

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Harry’s lips when he talks, gaze caught on his smile or when he
bites his lips as he studies particular paintings. Louis tries to stop -
but he’s not very good at it.
They end up in the museum shop where Harry goes a bit wild
buying postcard prints of the images and a mug with one of the
artist’s quotes on it. He isn’t ashamed as he goes to pay, flashing
Louis a smile and carrying all of his merchandise to the cash
register. Louis rolls his eyes to hide his fond smile.
Louis looks up directions to their next destination on the walk back
to the hotel. It looks like a four hour drive that seems daunting in
the scheme of things. He would love to take Harry to all of the
galleries they pass as they curve through the streets but he knows
they need to get on the road besides, the O’Keeffe museum was him
playing his Ace for the day, he’s not sure he can hit gold twice in
planning their itinerary.
Harry babbles on about all the art they’ve just seen, theorizing
about different meanings and getting more from color and strokes
than Louis ever possibly could. He smiles over his words as they
come out faster than Louis’s heard him speak over the past five
days, his eyes all but shining. Louis is a bit obsessed with the way
Harry is reacting and the soft desire curling through his rib cage to
keep making Harry react like this, to keep making him bounce
when he walks because he’s so excited.
“It’s just amazing,” Harry is saying, slightly breathless as they walk
to the Jeep. “Seeing it all for myself, you know? You always see
pictures and then to actually be close enough to touch.” He shakes
his head as his voice trails off.
Their bags are already packed from this morning, the sun gleaming
off the hood. Louis glances and feels the reaction to a memory

245
viscerally - he kissed Harry on that same hood, felt Harry’s body on
top of his right against that windshield. It makes his mouth go dry.

“Louis.”
Harry sounds like it’s not the first time he’s said Louis’s name and
Louis blinks quickly realizing they’ve both stopped at the hood of
the car. Harry probably caught Louis staring at it too - so much for
keeping his obsession low profile.
Louis clears his throat and turns to face Harry. They’re closer than
he realized, the toes of his shoes brushing Harry’s easily. “Hm?” He
asks, not exactly trusting his voice. He studies Harry’s smile, the
slow way it spreads over his mouth.
“I was just saying thank you,” Harry says. “For taking me to the
museum.” He licks his bottom lip and Louis tracks that too. “I
know that’s not your favorite thing to do but it really means a lot to
me.”
Louis nods dumbly, swallowing. “Good,” he says. “I wanted to
make you happy.” It’s not exactly what he pictured himself saying
but it’s already out before he can stop it and, the truth is there too.
He did want to make Harry happy. He could have chosen a brewery
that sounded kind of nice but he didn’t, he chose a museum he
knew Harry would like.
Harry smiles and it’s directed at the toes of his shoes. Louis studies
the brush of his eyelashes and the dip of his top lip before Harry
looks up again.
“Well, thank you,” he says. It’s quiet and earnest in a way Louis
hasn’t really seen Harry before.
He’s definitely not prepared for the way his body reacts, his hand
slipping around the side of Harry’s next as he pulls him lower for a

246
kiss; pressing their lips together to say the words he doesn’t know
how, the words he isn’t sure he actually wants to say out loud.
Harry presses into the kiss easily, his hands going to Louis’s hips
and holding as his mouth falls open under Louis’s tongue. Louis
pulls back first - well aware of where they are - and smiles. “You’re
welcome,” he whispers.
Harry’s eyes trace his face and then he kisses Louis again, soft and
quick, fleeting like a butterfly’s wings. Quick as it starts, Harry is
walking to the car, a small smile quirking on his lips. Louis gives
himself a moment to restart his breathing and then he heads for the
passenger side door. He’s always been one for adventure but this is
one turn he didn’t exactly see coming.

“You’re not actually going to get a chile pie are you?”

“The sign says they’re known for their chile pies, I’m pretty sure
that’s a good indication.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “It’s going to make you puke.”

Harry turns toward the menu and crosses his arms over his chest.
“You don’t know that.”
Louis doesn’t respond. They’re both slightly irritable after their
drive through western New Mexico with nothing fueling them since
breakfast but a cup of tea. Louis would like to pretend their kiss
was enough to save them from bickering back and forth but it
really, really didn’t.
Pie Town, New Mexico is small in comparison to Santa Fe and a bit
disappointing. Louis may have been secretly hoping to be greeted

247
by a life size pie of some sort instead of Harry pointing out the
PieO-Neer Cafe where they, evidently, specialize in chili pies.
“Apple, green chile and pine nuts,” Louis reads the ingredients out
loud. “That actually sounds like throw up.” Harry glares at him.
There’s a crowd in front of them and people at every table in the
cafe, it’s not as though people are actually listening to them.
“I want to try it,” Harry says, a bit defiant if Louis hears it right.
“What if we each get two pieces,” Louis says, “And then we just
share between us. It’ll be like a sampler.”
Harry’s lips twitch and he narrows his eyes, “Is this your way of
saying you want to try the chile pie?”
“No,” Louis says quickly. “Maybe,” he adds. “When in Rome and
all that.” It takes Harry a second to catch his joke but then he laughs
loudly, his eyes squeezing shut.

*
They end up with five slices of pie in a to-go box: Apple Cranberry
Crumb, Starry Starry Blueberry Night, Chocolate Cream, Peanut
Butter Chocolate and Peach Green Chile. Harry tried to make a last
minute play for two chile slices but Louis overruled him, citing the
fact they still need to drive an hour north to the lightning fields and
don’t need to be puking out of the window. Harry agreed with a
sigh.
There’s no place to sit when they leave the counter, white box held
between Harry’s hands as they scan the room.
“There’s a field across the way.” Louis turns to the woman behind
the pie counter who must be watching them. “A lot of people
choose to eat over there,” she says.

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Louis glances at Harry and shrugs. “We have the blankets in your
car, yeah?”

Harry nods and smiles at the woman. “Thanks for the suggestion.”
They head for the doors before Louis back tracks to the counter.
“Do you have some forks and napkins we can steal?”
She hands two forks and a wad of napkins over the counter with a
smile. “If you really want to woo him, you better take him towards
the left edge,” she says conspiratorially. Louis stares blankly and
she winks before turning to the next customer.
“What’d she say?” Harry asks by the door, his sunglasses pushed up
on his head and his hair poking out on the sides.
“Just to have fun,” Louis says without meeting his eyes, slipping
under his arm and out the front.
They get a blanket from the back of the car and head out toward the
field they’ve been recommended, Harry still holding the pies. Louis
doesn’t think he’s going to take the pie lady’s advice until he
actually does and gently steers Harry toward the left half of the
field.
The view is more than worth it, the tall grass all around them and a
cliff careening into the open plains with a pure blue river in the
background. The sky is just starting to twist with thin clouds but it
still looks like a picture. Harry must agree as he leaves Louis to set
out the blanket and starts taking pictures over the cliff.
“Be careful,” Louis tells him when he starts to get too close to the
edge. Harry glances over his shoulder and throws him a smile
before taking a couple of steps back. Louis’s heart is better for it.

249
They sit across from each other with the pie box in front of them as
they tear into each piece of pie and try to give technical reviews as
though they're on a cooking show. Harry is much better at coming
up with descriptive words though Louis does give it his best shot.
“Do you like baking?” Louis asks as they finish the blueberry pie.
It’s made Harry’s lips tinged blue and his tongue purple - Louis is
sure he looks the same.
Harry nods, swallowing his bite. “As a kid, I wanted to own a
bakery-slash-bookshop.”

“This was pre-astronaut or post-astronaut?”

“Post,” Harry says, smiling slowly. “Pre falling in love with art.”

“You could have it all,” Louis says. “A bakery-bookshop-gallery.”

“Could do. Maybe one day.”

“When you’re rich enough to own your own gallery?”

Harry smiles, “Yes, that day.”

“What’s our review on blueberry?” Louis asks as he splits the last
bit in two and they each take half.
“Love the name,” Harry says. “Starry Starry Blueberry makes me
want to stargaze.”
“To be fair, we’ve done that,” Louis says. “But I agree. It tastes like
summer evenings.”

Harry smiles, “Exactly. Bare feet on the grass.”

“Feet, really?”

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Harry rolls his eyes, “It’s the feeling not the actual thing.”

“Speaking of feet, the chile one will probably taste like feet.”

“Can we stop talking about feet?”

Louis laughs. “Fine but you have to try the chile one first.”
“Sure.” Harry uses the edge of his fork to cut off a piece
confidently. “I’m not afraid.”
Louis scrunches his nose as Harry takes a bite. He watches as Harry
chews slowly and then promptly leans to the side and spits out his
bite on the edge of the blanket.

“No?” Louis asks, his laughter making him exhale hard.

Harry wipes the drool from his mouth with the back of his hand and
immediately goes back to their half-finished cranberry slice. “It
tastes like feet,” he says, chewing the new piece of pie. “Exactly
like feet.”
Louis laughs and then tilts his head. “You seem to know a lot about
what feet taste like.” Harry chews with a dead stare. It makes Louis
laugh all over again.
They start in on the chocolate pie after that, battling each other with
their forks as swords for the bites closest to the sweet crust.
"Why do you want to be a lawyer?" Harry asks with chocolate on
his lip. He licks it off before
Louis can mention. "We always talk about me but I don't know why
you're starting law school."
"The first part is a really stupid reason," Louis says. "But the second
part will make it better."

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Harry nods, "Alright, then. Let's have it."
"I wasn't a great student when I was younger," Louis says, tilting his
head back and forth. "I was smart and had potential but I liked to
have fun too. Tell jokes and stuff."

"A distraction."

Louis half-smiles, "Yes, Mr. Styles. I was a distraction."

Harry matches his smile. "Go on."

"I was being a distraction and my grades had started to kind of slip,
riding my skateboard was more fun than homework, you know how
it goes."
"I don’t actually. See, I thought I was going to be an astronaut,"
Harry says primly. "I've had ambitions from a very young age." He
laughs over the ends of his words.
Louis rolls his eyes. "In high school, I had a teacher tell me I
wouldn't become anything worthwhile and I'd spend my whole
life bouncing around low paying jobs." "That's rude," Harry says
quickly, eyebrows pulling together.
"My mom just about hit the roof when I told her and marched right
down to the school." Louis smiles at the memory of his mom -
always the first to protect him and his sisters, charging headfirst
without asking questions. He waves his hand, that's not the point.
"Anyway, I graduated with middle of the road grades and decided I
would just study harder and become the most worthwhile thing I
could think of."

"A lawyer."

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"Very good," Louis says with a smirk. "I set out to study Political
Science so I could become a lawyer. And then I started to love it. I
did my internships in law offices and ate up the strategies and
decisions being made around me. I was obsessed with it and there's
nothing better than to be obsessed with what you're studying. I
started doing well in my classes classes and taking on more intern
hours. Everything clicked into place just because I was proving
someone wrong."
Harry smiles as Louis finishes, by far the most attentive listener
Louis has met. "What kind of law do you want to practice?"
"Family," Louis says quickly, easily. "My birth dad isn't in my life
anymore but there was a nasty custody battle when I was growing
up. It was miserable for me and my mom to even go through. I want
to be able to help kids like me and parents like my mom. It feels
important."

Harry cuts a piece of pie delicately and puts it on his tongue.

"You're very noble."
"Not exactly," Louis says. He shakes his head. "I'm just trying to
find a purpose in life. Hoping law might be it."
Harry swallows and his eyes meet Louis's. "Even if it's not, I hope
you know that teacher was wrong about you. You're going to be
amazing at something, whatever it is."
Louis grins, "Oh, I know. Haven't you figured it out yet? My
confidence rages on a pretty high scale most of the time."
Harry laughs, "Alright, well if you ever need someone to boost it,
I'll be here."
The moment switches to something heavier as they both smile and
then let it fade, eyes holding.

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Harry clears his throat first. "I dare you to eat the chile pie."
Louis blinks. "I don't remember agreeing to play truth or dare with
you, H."

Harry smiles and blinks slowly, "Please? Try it."

As if Louis could say no to Harry. He tries to decline three more
times but Harry is not having it, already using his fork to cut off
another edge of the chile pie.
"You can't just force it in my mouth," Louis says when he settles on
the fact Harry is going to ignore his protests.
Harry laughs and uses his finger to keep the pie on the fork. "I
know."
"What do I get if I try it?" Louis eyes the pie wearily, his stomach
almost gurgling. Chile and pears just doesn't seem appealing when
they have four perfectly great pieces of pie already.
Harry moves his head back and forth, weighing. "I'll drive the next
leg."

"Eh, it's already your turn."

"You can turn the air conditioning off in the next hotel," Harry
offers.
"The cold is growing on me," Louis says. "It's refreshing." He
wasn't actually planning to tell Harry that but it's too late now.
Quiet lingers and then Harry rubs his lips together. "You can kiss
me."
Louis runs his tongue over his teeth, "Is that supposed to be
tempting?"

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Harry gasps and laughs but Louis sees the way his cheeks turn pink.
"Okay, okay, I'll come up with something else."

"No," Louis says before he can. "I choose option C."

Harry smiles and swallows as he offers the fork to Louis. Louis
skips the pretense of taking it himself and leans forward instead,
letting Harry feed the pie into his mouth. Their eyes meet as he
opens his lips and Harry slips the fork inside. It's a heavy moment,
heady when Louis closes his lips and leans back, taking the pie with
him.
The moment breaks like shattered glass the moment Louis's tongue
registers what is on it. The chile is overpowering, the pear isn't
sweet enough, the consistency is sticky and suddenly he feels like
he can't breathe properly without puking. He pulls himself onto his
hands and knees and spits the pie chunk over the edge of the
blanket, wiping his mouth as Harry cackles loudly. By the time
Louis looks over at him, he's gone silent with laughter, his head in
his hands.
Louis should hate him; he should storm away and get in the car
until they leave for the next stop. All he really wants to do is tackle
Harry into the tall grass and see if he tastes like Starry Starry
Blueberry Pie.
Laughter bubbles from Harry’s lips in sporadic bursts for the next
few moments as Louis sets about cleansing his mouth with a bite of
the chocolate pie. “It’s not that funny,” he says when Harry’s smile
widens like he’s going to start giggling again.

“It is,” Harry says. “Your face was amazing.”

“It’s also the face I make before I vom so that’s a pretty intimate
look into my life, Harry.”

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Harry swallows, “Good. I told you, I want to get to know you.”
Louis can’t ignore the quiet flare in his stomach. “Well, you have a
good start.” In the quiet that lingers, Louis realizes what he should
say. “I want to get to know you, too, by the way.”
“Yeah?” Harry looks up from where he’s been tracing designs on
the blanket under them, “Think it’s worth it?”
“Yes,” Louis says firmly. It’s as much as he can help to not yell it
out louder and make sure Harry hears him. Of course he’s worth
getting to know, of course he is.
“Do you have anything particular you’d like to know?” Harry asks,
fluttering his eyelashes and grinning dopily.
Louis purses his lips and hums. “What’s your favorite ice cream
flavor?”

“That’s your burning question?”

“I might have more,” Louis says mysteriously. “I’m starting small.”

“You’re going to scream when I tell you.”

“It’s vanilla isn’t it?” Louis says right away. “That’s the only flavor
that would make me scream.”

Harry grins, “And if I tell you I have a good reason?”

Louis sighs and leans back on his hands, the pie settling in his
stomach and making him feel rather full. “I’ll allow your
explanation.”
“Sometimes you make me feel like I’m in court,” Harry says.
“Fighting to defend my opinions.”

256
“You are,” Louis says, “And I’m the overpaid judge, so don’t waste
my time.”
Harry laughs. “Vanilla is my favorite because it’s the perfect base.
You can make any kind of sundae when you start with vanilla and
you aren’t limited by too many flavors in one mixture. You control
the entire flavor depending on what choices you make.”

Louis nods and tries not to smirk. “Well argued.”

Harry nods his head, “Thank you.”

“I don’t agree but I can appreciate the view.”

Harry narrows his eyes and tosses his fork back in the pie box. “I
appreciate your consideration.”
They both start laughing at the same time, barely holding eye
contact and it feels like springtime in September. There’s just a
certain light Harry gives off and Louis wants to catch every bit that
he can. He didn’t realize it when they met, or the first few days of
the trip, but there’s something in Harry that feels electric,
contagious.
They don’t finish the pie and only linger a bit longer before they
head back to the car to go north to the Lightning Fields. Louis only
realizes it once they’re on the road, again - he never got his kiss for
completing the dare.

*
“You’re cutting it close, showing up without a reservation.” Mabel,
as her nametag says, stares both of them down from behind her
reception desk at the front of the Lightning Fields Inn, her eyes
narrowed.

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Harry shifts nervously, hitching his bag higher on his shoulder. “We
had one, or I had one,” he stumbles over his words, “It was for the
other night but I had to cancel. We took longer on the road than I
anticipated.”
She doesn’t show any sympathy. “You realize our waiting list is two
months long?”
Harry nods, “Yes, I do. I signed up in June and obviously didn’t
think I’d miss the reservation.”
For the first time, Louis actually feels guilty for messing up the
route and putting them a day behind. He’d thought Harry was being
his controlling self with the plan - he hadn’t thought there would be
the consequence of a missed reservation.
“Have there been any cancellations today?” Louis asks, stepping
forward. Harry looks like he’s not feeling well, his hands twisting
together in front of him. It feels like Louis’s fault; maybe because it
is his fault. Mable stares at him. “There may have been.”
Louis adjusts the straps on his backpack and steps forward further,
determined. “Can you check, please?”
She doesn’t seem inclined as she shakes her mouse to wake up her
computer, her bored expression tracing to her computer. “Don’t see
any,” she says hardly a full two seconds later, her shoulders
shrugging unconvincingly.
“That’s okay,” Harry says, clearly uncomfortable. “Thank you for
checking.”
Louis isn’t going to give up so easily. “Are you sure?” He licks his
lips and then the lies pour like rain after a long drought. “See, it’s
really important that we get to stay here tonight. He planned this for
our anniversary,” he points with his thumb over his shoulder at

258
Harry, “and he managed to keep it a secret for two months, which
isn’t easy with his big mouth, let me tell you.”
Harry is frozen and looks stricken, but Mabel is looking at Louis
curiously. He presses on.
“He planned out an entire road trip for us and it’s been so
romantic,” Louis lies with a smile. “I, of course, made us delayed
by staying too long at the last place so we could go horseback
riding.” He grins. Mabel looks like she would appreciate horses.
Her slight smile tells him he’s right. “I love horses,” he adds for
good measure. Harry clears his throat behind him.
“Right, that’s not the point,” Louis says, glancing at Harry and then
back to Mabel. “It’s our five year anniversary and if we can’t see
the Lightning Fields, it’ll break his heart.” He lowers his voice,
“Please don’t make me be responsible for that.”
There’s a bubble of a moment where he holds his breath and he
thinks Harry might be too. And then Mabel breaks it by sliding her
hands on the keys of her keyboard, eyes tracking on her computer.
“We have a cancellation in cabin three,” she says, eyes not leaving
the screen.
“We’ll take it,” Louis says quickly, fire bursting up through his ribs
in excited flares.
Mabel glances up at them. “It’s a shared cabin,” she says. “So there
are other occupants in the other rooms with a shared kitchen.”
“That’s fine,” Louis says with a nod. “That’s great. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Harry echoes from behind Louis, a bit breathless.
Louis reaches back for his hand and holds it tight in his. He tells
himself it’s a convincing act for Mabel but he also likes it for his
own selfish reasons, all of Harry’s rings cool against his skin.

259
Mabel confirms they’re using the credit card on file and then gives
them a binder with guidelines and a key to cabin three. “There’s a
grocery store on your walk out there. Feel free to stop and pick up
something for dinner. Most people eat in their rooms and watch
from their windows. There’s an eighty percent chance of rolling
thunder tonight so you’re extremely lucky to be getting in.”
In that moment, Louis realizes he has no idea what a Lightning
Field even is and if Mabel has just made a sexual joke relating to
rolling thunder but he doesn’t think this is the ideal moment to
clarify. “Fantastic,” he says, instead. “Thanks.” He squeezes
Harry’s hand and smiles when Harry squeezes back.
“You’re welcome,” Mabel says, cracking a smile for the first
time. It’s not even a full smile, almost a cheerful grimace.
“Congratulations, by the way.” “On what?” Louis asks, still
trying to keep his smile in place.

“On five years,” she says slowly.

“Our anniversary,” Harry cuts in loudly before Louis can blow their
cover. Their cover he came up with.
“That’s right,” Louis says with a nod. He takes a step toward the
door, tugging Harry with him.
“Thank you for the kind wishes,” he says and then Harry takes over,
pushing him out the door.
“Harry,” Louis says when he thinks they’re far enough from
Mabel’s watchdog perch.
“Yes?” Harry is still holding his hand and doesn’t seem inclined to
let go.

260
“What the fuck is a Lightning Field?”
Harry’s laughter ricochets off the cabins surrounding them and
Louis finally drops his hand just to shove his shoulder, the
movement doing nothing to impede Harry’s laughter.

*
The Lightning Field in Pie Town, New Mexico is, it turns out, kind
of ridiculous. A guy built a bunch of metal stands that will carry an
electric charge and draw lightning out longer than a simple strike.
There’s not always a chance of a storm but people take the chance
anyway because of the visual effect when it does happen. It’s
completely counter-intuitive to everything Louis has learned about
lightning - mainly that he should be running the other direction in a
storm - but the way Harry explains it, smiling over his words and
clearly giddy over the prospect makes it feel like exactly what they
should be doing.
True to Mabel’s word, there’s a grocery store in the middle of the
cabins, fairly well stocked with all kinds of boxed and canned food.
For the first time, they don’t even discuss what they want to eat as
they both head for the Kraft Macaroni and Cheese display, sharing a
private smile. Harry gets bottles of water and a couple of bananas
that look like they’ve head better days.
“How many boxes are you getting?” Harry asks when Louis comes
back from getting the milk and butter they need for the macaroni.
“Three,” Louis says easily. “What?” He laughs at Harry’s raised
eyebrows. “According to you, we have to stay awake for half the
night waiting for a storm that might not come. I want to be
prepared.”

261
Harry tilts his head thoughtfully and then rolls his eyes with a
smirk. “Yeah, alright.”
The sky is already darkening by the time they head for cabin three,
an eerie feeling settling over them. The clouds roll in slowly, fluffy
but dark and grey, casting a shadowy light as coolness settles. The
lights are on inside the cabins but no one seems to be out and about,
probably settling in for the storm.
“It’s like the universe knows everyone is waiting for a storm,”
Louis says. “Kind of creepy.”

“Or they built this place where they know there are always storms.”

Louis’s lips twitch but he doesn’t smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

Cabin three stands out among the others, a rusted red with a black
roof, with hardly any windows along the front. It looks like a prison
but Louis doesn’t want to be the one to say it.
“I hope you can run quickly,” Harry says as they walk up the gravel
path to the front door.

“Why?”
“In case we end up being the real life plot of a horror movie.”
“Optimistic, I see,” Louis says with a smile.

“You can’t say this doesn’t look like the setting of a crime novel.”
Louis looks over the house, appraising. “Reminds me of my
childhood home, honestly.” Harry catches his bluff, rolling his eyes
to hide his smile.
Louis holds the grocery bags while Harry unlocks the front of the
cabin, both of them holding their breath as they try to determine
what may be lying beyond.

262
It’s not what they expect.
The cabin opens to a main room with fluffy couches and a fireplace,
a television sitting quietly in the corner. There’s a kitchen off to the
corner and three closed doors along the back wall.
“Odd layout,” Harry says quietly, shutting the door behind them. It
smells as though someone has been cooking but everything is quiet,
the doors shut snugly and only a lamp on in the main room.
“What room are we in?” Louis asks. “Mabel left that handy detail
out.”
Harry’s eyes widen as he looks over. “Are we going to have to test
the doors to find an empty room?”
“No,” Louis says. “I’ll just go back and ask what room is ours.”
“And leave me here?” Harry whisper-shouts and Louis can’t help
but laugh.
“You can come with me.” Louis takes a step toward the door but
Harry pins him with his gaze.
“I will not be electrocuted by being outside of the cabin when the
storm starts. Didn’t you read the safety guidelines?”
“Clearly you did,” Louis says, adjusting their groceries on his hip.
“Which, by the way, when would I have time to read safety
guidelines considering I just now found out what a lightning field
even is in the first place?”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Still. We’re not leaving.”

Louis rolls his eyes right on back, ready to leave Harry standing
petulantly in the middle of the cabin when there’s a thud from one
of the rooms and they both jump, their bodies pressing together.

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“Fuck,” Harry whispers, one hand going over his heart. Louis takes
a deep breath; his own heart pounding. “What are you doing?”
Harry hisses as Louis goes toward the first room, hand outstretched.
“Finding our room,” he whispers over his shoulder. He holds his
breath again as he twists the knob on the first door, nervous to barge
in on someone behind the door unexpectedly. There’s resistance and
the door stays shut. “It’s locked,” he says, relief curling in his lungs.
He tests the next door and finds it locked while the third one springs
open into an empty room. Louis barely takes a step inside before
Harry is pressing up against him and slipping inside with him.
Louis’s eyes are immediately drawn to the far wall which is
completely made of glass and overlooks the field below. “Shit,” he
whispers, heading straight for it, the grocery bags still in his arms.
It’s more than he imagined a field with metal contraptions would
look like and the haze of the sunset covered in grey clouds makes it
even more beautiful. There’s a sliding door on the left side of the
wall and small porch that is covered by the overhanging roof. The
sides of the porch connect to the roof on either side for privacy and
Louis thinks it may be the coolest thing he’s ever seen. He turns to
Harry to see if he’s as intrigued but Harry’s still in the doorway,
staring at the bed in the center of the room.
Louis looks, too - but he doesn’t see anything wrong. There are a
ton of pillows and the white duvet is impossibly fluffy; it’s just a
bed. It hits him slowly as he looks over at Harry, realization settling
in. There’s only one bed in their shared room.
“Would it be weird to call Mabel and say that we’d like to celebrate
our five-year anniversary in different beds?” Louis asks seriously. It
cracks the tension in Harry’s face as he starts to smile slowly and
then actually laughs, his dimple curving into his cheek.

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“She’d probably tell us to sleep in the field if we did,” Harry says,
shifting his weight.
It goes quiet again and Louis licks his lip. “I’m okay with sharing if
you are. Or, we can, you know, figure something else out. I can
sleep on the couch.”
Harry looks to the bed and back to Louis, no confusion on his face.
“I’m fine with sharing, yeah.”
Louis holds his eyes and nods, pretends his stomach doesn’t
backflip. “Cool.” He swallows,
“Should we go make our dinner before the storm starts?”
Harry flings his bag on the bed and nods. He takes the grocery bags
from Louis and turns on his heel toward the door. “Meet me out
there? Don’t make me cook dinner with a bunch of strangers.” Fuck.
Louis already forgot they’re in a house of strangers.
He lifts his own bag onto the bed and runs his hand back through
his hair. He’s kissed Harry three times, jerked himself off over the
thought of him more times than he cares remember, and now he’s
going to share a bed with him.
“Good luck,” Louis whispers to himself, heading toward the
kitchen. He’s not sure how he’s going to survive this night in one
piece.

*
The kitchen is tiny but they seem to be the only ones intent on using
it as the rest of the house stays quiet. There definitely isn’t room for
them to both participate in macaroni cooking though they do try;
hips and shoulders bumping as they move around.

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Louis measures out enough milk and butter for two batches and
then puts the rest in the refrigerator while Harry stirs the mixture all
together in a pot.
“Don’t know why you got three,” Harry says. “We’ll be eating
macaroni for breakfast tomorrow at this rate.”

“Nice,” Louis says, “I love having leftovers for breakfast.”

“Macaroni for breakfast?” Harry sticks his tongue out and squeezes
his eyes shut. Louis pinches his hip, laughing.
“Did you buy wine?” He asks, his eye catching on the bottle
perched on the counter top.
“No,” Harry says. “I didn’t even think about it.”
Louis skirts the edge of the counter and grabs for the Pinot Noir,
checking a card attached to the neck. “Complimentary,” he
murmurs, letting the card slip from his grasp.

Harry whistles lowly, “Fancy place, eh?”

Louis laughs as he sets about looking for wine glasses in the
cupboards. He gets out two large bowls when Harry asks and
finally comes across some stemless wine goblets. There’s a wine
opener in the drawer he uses with only a minor struggle before the
cork comes free. Harry splits the macaroni into two bowls and then
washes the pan in the sink because he’s a good boy. Or, a better boy
than Louis would be in the same situation.
“This is quite the romantic situation,” Louis says. He carefully
pours their glasses just over halfway full. There’s a wine stopper he
uses on the bottle, tucking it in his arm to take back to their room.
“The wine and dinner while you watch a storm thing.”

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Harry huffs a laugh. He grabs out two forks and both of their bowls,
turning off the cooking fan over the stove. “I guess so.”
“Do you think a lot of babies are made here?” Louis asks as they
navigate back down the hallway.
“I’d love to be a lightning baby.”
“I don’t know,” Harry says thoughtfully. “You’d have to be okay
making a baby with two other couples in the same house as you.”
Louis laughs and twirls as he backs into their room. “Some people
are into that, you know.”
Harry raises his eyebrows and kicks the door shut behind them. It
closes with a soft latching noise.
“Really? Tell me more.”
Louis rolls his eyes and reaches around Harry to lock the door.
Harry’s eyebrows go up even higher and Louis just laughs.
“What do we do?” Louis asks once they’re settled in front of the
window, a bowl of macaroni in their laps and a glass of wine each
sitting by their feet.

“Just wait?” Harry shrugs. “I’m not exactly sure.”

There’s a smattering of rain outside the window but not enough to
really do anything. Louis thinks it’s a good sign of things to come -
the rolling thunder Mabel mentioned earlier. Perhaps she really did
mean it literally.
They eat and watch the clouds change, the field going dark and
ominous like the introduction to a show. Louis gets chills at the
purple haze and shakes his shoulders to right himself. He definitely
finishes all of his macaroni but Harry can’t get through the last few
bites, lying back on the carpet with a moan.

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“I’m going to change,” Louis says, standing up. He takes Harry’s
bowl and his to set on the dresser. “I want to be warmer if we go
outside.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Harry says just before heaving
himself off the floor with a loud groan.
Louis doesn’t feel like changing in the bathroom and Harry must
not either as they both stand on opposite sides of the bed while they
put on sweats and hoodies. They both sit on the bed to put on their
socks – Louis’s plain white while Harry goes for pink with green
dinosaurs.
The first roll of thunder catches them both off guard, standing up
off the bed and staring at each other. “This might be scarier than I
anticipated,” Harry says, smiling.
“You can hold my hand,” Louis says even though he brushes right
past Harry and to the windows. Now that they’re here, now that
there’s a storm - he’s not going to miss it. “Come on,” he says over
his shoulder. “Don’t fuck up our five year anniversary by sitting
inside all night.”
Harry’s laughter is loud and their neighbors have surely overheard
but Louis doesn’t really care. He refills their wine glasses and uses
his foot to open the door wider, slipping outside. Harry comes out
behind him, shutting the door.

“No camera?”
Harry shakes his head. “Another time I want the memory not the
picture.”
“Suit yourself,” Louis says, claiming one end of the wooden bench
placed on the porch for comfort.

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“I will,” Harry says. He sits just a few inches away from Louis,
their thighs pressing together.
Louis smiles softly when he hands Harry his wine glass.
Thunder rumbles again and then comes the first strike, brilliant as it
connects with one of the metal rods and illuminates the field.
Louis’s mouth pops open and Harry’s does as well, right as the
darkness comes in again and the light fades.
“That was fucking sick,” Harry says. He turns to Louis with wide
eyes and a smile.

“I know,” he says. “Not what I expected at all.”

There are three strikes in quick succession after that, each one
pulling a gasp from Louis with an echo from Harry, the thunder and
rain picking up as the show continues.
“It doesn’t seem real,” Harry says quietly in another soft moment
between the action.
“Like we’re watching a performance on stage,” Louis agrees. The
lightning looks like dancers, particularly how it bends and stretches
when it connects to the metal poles. It’s most magical when
multiple strands connect at once, like a raining of bolts from Greek
mythology. The rain splatters up on the porch but not enough to
touch where they’re pressed up against the house; the coolness
seeping in with some of the natural warmth of the season still
lingering.
It doesn’t feel as though anyone else is around. Louis knows there
are cabins of people, rooms of people next to them, who are all
doing the same thing. He can’t hear them, can’t see them, and it
makes the entire thing feel like a bubble as he takes a sip of wine.

269
The road trip has been a bubble too – uninterrupted time with each
other for better or for worse. He can’t help the natural comfort he
feels with Harry, the sneaking suspicion it’s been there from day
one.
Louis isn’t boisterous by any means, he never really has been. He
wouldn’t ever call himself shy but he knows his place – when to be
loud and when he should be quiet, when to tease and when to be as
straightforward as possible. Harry should have made him shy. Harry
in all his quiet power should have made Louis be quiet and reserved
for once in his life. Instead, quite the opposite has happened.
Louis poked from day one, teased and yelled and bickered without
restraint until Harry gave it right back to him with half the sass and
a bit more wit. Louis assumed they annoyed each other but now,
sitting here, he’s thinking about what Harry said at the lake, about
being comfortable. That’s what it is. That’s what makes him feel
like they’re in a bubble. There’s no need to find other people
outside of the bubble, not when they have each other.
“I’m obsessed,” Harry says with awe in his voice, his eyes stuck on
the field in front of them. Louis stares at the side of his jaw before
he remembers to look forward too. There’s a strike right as he does.
“Amazing,” he says quietly, finishing his wine with a long swallow.
“How long do you think it goes for?”

“Some reviews on the website say it can last all night,” Harry says.
They sink into quiet after that, watching the way the lightning
moves and lights up the rain, listening to the thunder as it rolls and
announces each strike. It’s one of the more beautiful nights of
Louis’s life and he pretends to himself that he’s not including Harry
in that assessment as well.

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He doesn’t really think about it when he turns his head to rest of
Harry’s shoulder, the movement as natural as it would be to keep
sitting up. Harry doesn’t flinch at the new weight as he drinks from
his glass, the world illuminating around them once more. In the
flicker of light, Louis watches as Harry reaches his hand toward
Louis’s knee and then pulls back abruptly and puts his hands in his
own lap.
“You can touch me,” he says softly, knowing Harry hears him in the
bubble that belongs to them.
He feels Harry’s jaw move along the top of his head when he smiles
and then Harry’s hand is on his knee, fingers tucked on the inner
seam of Louis’s sweats. It sends as much electricity through Louis
as the lightning poles have been receiving all night. He suppresses a
shiver when Harry moves his hand, his fingertips tracing the seam
in a gentle up and down motion.
It feels like an unintentional tease and it makes Louis a bit crazy
and warm as the storm rages on. He doesn’t know what they’re
doing, what it means when they kiss and then don’t talk about it. All
he knows is it seems to make perfect sense when he lifts his head
and kisses the side of Harry’s neck softly. It’s gentle, barely
anything before he settles the side of his head back on Harry’s
shoulder but Harry feels it, his hand tightening on Louis’s knee.
Louis holds his wine glass in one hand and reaches out with the
other, hand falling on top of Harry’s thigh. He doesn’t imagine the
intake of breath or the way Harry’s hand suddenly stills on his knee.
Louis he runs his hand slowly toward the inside of his leg and then
pulls back.
It’s stupid. It’s like fifteen year olds let on their own for the first
time as Louis smoothes his thumb over the soft material of Harry’s

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pants and leans further into him. Harry’s hand doesn’t move at all,
the warm pressure of it enough for Louis to know he’s there.
Louis runs his hand higher up Harry’s leg, above the tattoo he saw
at the lake and then lowers to the inside of his knee before
following the same path again He feels it as Harry’s muscles tense
under his fingers, the staccato breath he lets out followed by a
shallow inhale.

“Louis,” Harry says, breaking first.

Louis swallows and stills, suddenly scared Harry will tell him to
stop, tell him there’s been a mistake in the low rolling attraction
they’ve been dancing with for days. Louis keeps his hand still and
lifts his head, eyes searching out Harry in the haze of another
lightning strike.
“What is it?” He asks. His voice is harsher than he intends, rough
after a bit of very gentle petting with a cute boy.
“Can I kiss you?”
The words hold in the quiet and Louis watches them come to life, lit
up in neon and then blinking into pastels as Harry licks his lips and
doesn’t break eye contact, the moment hanging in the balance.
Louis smiles slowly, the answer on the edge of his tongue. “You’ve
got to stop asking me and just start doing it, babe.”
Harry takes the direction quite seriously as he kisses Louis on his
next breath, his lips tasting just like wine and Harry, nothing like
macaroni and cheese. Louis smiles into the kiss, his fingers curling
into the baggy material of Harry’s sweats.
Harry parts Louis’s lips with his tongue and then presses closer, his
free hand curving along the side of Louis’s neck. Louis feels

272
helpless as he inhales against Harry’s mouth, trying to press himself
closer. Their wine glasses click between them with the movement
and they both laugh as they glance down.
“Whoops,” Harry says and Louis cuts him off with another kiss. He
lets his hand trace up the front of Harry’s sweats and over the front
of his sweatshirt until he gets to his neck, running his thumb along
his jawline as he kisses him steadily.
Harry moves like he’s asking for it, his neck stretching to the side as
Louis kisses along his impossibly sharp jaw to his neck, sucking
kisses all along the muscle and then licking over them again. Harry
makes breathless noises as his fingers curl into Louis’s hair, his
whole body seeming to vibrate under Louis’s hands.
“Louis,” he gasps when Louis’s teeth dig into his collarbone, his
sweatshirt stretched at the neck by Louis’s hand.
“Harry,” Louis whispers right up against his skin before biting at
the mark he’s made again, lathing his tongue and blowing to cool it
off. It only makes Harry shiver under his lips.
“I think –,” Harry starts but it ends with a moan as Louis runs his
hand over his chest and stomach again, ending on his thigh and
squeezing.
“What’s that, darling?” Louis asks as he kisses up Harry’s neck, the
pet name falling as easily as the kisses.
Harry tries to say something again but interrupts himself by kissing
Louis. It’s harder than any other time they’ve kissed and it makes
the middle of Louis’s stomach turn molten, his head tilting back
easily until he remembers Harry was trying to say something.
“What were you going to say?” There’s lightning in the far edge of
the field that sends only a faint glimmer of light toward where they

273
sit. It’s enough to see the pink of Harry’s lips and the darkness of
his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. Harry swallows and then
smiles and it’s devastating. He could tell Louis to run right into
lightning and Louis wouldn’t do it – but he’d sure as hell consider
it.
“I think we should go inside,” he says, tucking his smile into a more
serious smirk and Louis does nothing but nod.
They’re a mess of limbs inside, their empty wine glasses left in a
tipped over display on the dresser as they try to get their hands
everywhere they can, their lips following suit. It’s everything Louis
didn’t realize he was waiting for as he tucks his hands under
Harry’s sweatshirt and runs his hands along his skin, up high on his
shoulders and then drags his fingernails gently down to make Harry
gasp against his mouth. He traces his hands over Harry’s sides and
the fullness of his hips, kissing him until he can’t remember
anything else that would be more worthwhile.
Harry is right there for every change, his neck tilting when Louis
licks up his throat and his hands holding Louis’s hips as he kisses
him back, dipping lower to his ass when he kisses down the side of
Louis’s neck in languid drags.
The world could end outside and Louis wouldn’t be aware, not
when Harry is slowly lifting his sweatshirt up off of him, his eyes a
question Louis answers with a smile. Louis takes his sweatshirt
from Harry’s fingers and pulls it the rest of the way before letting it
drop it to the ground along with his t-shirt, pulling Harry in closer
and going up on his toes to kiss him even harder.
Harry’s hands roam without limits, as his lips follow their own path,
kissing along the ink on Louis’s collarbones and biting on the
muscle in his shoulder that makes Louis grip onto Harry’s hips.

274
Harry pulls back and smiles and Louis can’t really describe what
that does to him. He spins Harry in a blur so he’s tripping backward
to the bed and then they’re falling into the thick white duvet, losing
themselves in a cloud.
Louis gets rid of Harry’s sweatshirt next, kissing along his sternum
and licking the lines of the butterfly on his stomach. Harry traces
his hands through Louis’s hair but seems content to be explored as
he squirms on the bed. His skin is sweet under Louis’s tongue and
all he cares about is the sounds Harry keeps making, the way he
bites into his own arm when Louis kisses along the ferns on his
hips. He connects kisses up Harry’s stomach as his hands skirt his
sides until he can look him in the face again, both of their lungs
shaking for air.
Harry’s hands rest on the curve of Louis’s waist, a smile twirling
across his lips. “Well, this escalated quickly,” he says.
Louis smiles and nods, his mind short circuiting over any potential
words. Harry is some kind of pretty like this, half-naked beneath
him, chest and cheeks flushed, eyes on the right side of wild. Louis
leans down to kiss him again because he can, because right now it’s
allowed. Harry’s back arches as Louis pulls away, chasing the kiss
unabashedly.
“What can I do?” Louis asks. His lips trail along Harry’s jaw and
then he stops, brushing Harry’s hair from his forehead.
Harry traces two fingers over Louis’s cheekbone, his eyebrows
pulling together just slightly. “Do when?” he asks.
“Now,” Louis says, starting another trail of kisses over Harry’s
neck. “Do to you.” The words act like a spark as Harry curves up
again, his hips lifting from the bed. Louis smiles against his throat.

275
“What do you want to do?” Harry asks, a bit breathless as Louis
starts trailing down his sternum again. He’s kissed a well-worn path
here the last few minutes and it feels familiar under his lips. Louis
hums against Harry’s stomach and feels his muscles move under his
tongue. He smiles again and looks up.
“Can I go down on you?” He trails a hand over Harry’s prominent
bulge as he asks and Harry presses his hips up as his eyes close.

“Would love that,” he manages and Louis grins.

He tucks his fingers into Harry’s sweatpants and tugs, kissing along
the waistband of his boxers, the sparse trail of hair connecting to his
belly. Harry kicks his legs to get the pants off and nearly brains
Louis in the process.
“If you kill me, you’ll have to suck your own dick,” Louis says as a
warning. Harry’s smile gets wider and Louis rolls his eyes.

“I’ve tried that before, you know,” he says conversationally.

“Shut up,” Louis laughs over his words but he doesn’t really want
to hear about Harry’s escapades with his own mouth. Not when he
has the chance to be the one with Harry on his tongue.
Harry shuts up pretty expertly as Louis pulls his boxers off for good
and throws them across the room. He has no idea where they land,
his eyes caught on Harry. Louis isn’t shy to say he’s seen a lot of
dicks in his life but Harry might take the metaphorical cake. He’s
big – far bigger than Louis expected – and the shade of pink
matches his cheeks, which is kind of ridiculous. Appearance doesn’t
quite compensate when Louis actually takes him in his hand,
warmth and heat pulsing against his palm. Harry moans at the same
time a drip of wetness eases from his tip and Louis thinks he might
go cross-eyed at the overstimulation to his senses.

276
Louis plays a bit more than he usually does, running his hand up
and down Harry’s length, squeezing near the bottom and thumbing
over the head. He’s usually a down and dirty guy, quick to the
point, but Harry is so sensitive and responsive to his grip, he can’t
imagine making anything go faster.
Harry reacts with his whole body to Louis’s touch, his hips lifting
and abs clenching, fingers dancing over his own chest and then
gripping the bed beneath him, his chin tipping up and eyes rolling
back. If Louis was a photographer, this is what he’d want a picture
of.
“Are you going to do something?” Harry finally grits out as he must
realize Louis’s complete contentedness to just play.
“I thought this was about what I wanted?” Louis smirks at Harry’s
earlier attempt of negotiation before Louis had his hands on his
cock.
Harry sighs in frustration but Louis doesn’t make him wait,
swooping down to take Harry in his mouth. He swirls his tongue
around his tip, the salty sweet tinged by something bitter, before
inching down slowly, taking as much as he can at once. Harry sighs
like it’s the best thing to ever happen and Louis thinks he may kill
him before either of them get off. Harry Styles is far too much to be
dealt with.
Louis takes a moment to catch a rhythm with his mouth and hand,
far more used to being a bit intoxicated and a bit in a hurry when he
does this. Once he swore off relationships, intimacy went right with
it and he’s spent a lot of nights on his knees in the bar bathroom,
and then coming with his eyes on the peeling apart ceiling.

Not now.

277
Now he’s got Harry spread out on his back, on a bed with a storm
raging around outside. He’s going to take his damn time.
Harry isn’t exactly patient, his hips pressing up and making Louis
gag around him but Louis knows how to remedy the situation. He
pins Harry’s hips to the bed and works him over with just his
mouth, the string of curses falling from Harry’s lips more than
worth it.
Louis tightens his lips and digs his fingernails into the softness of
Harry’s hips, surprised by the way he goes immediately pliant, the
moan lower and drawn out. Louis breathes through his nose as he
works, twisting his tongue in the way that’s gotten him rave
reviews, and then sucking a mark at the very base of Harry’s cock
in the way that makes Harry yell out like there’s a fire in the next
room. That gets Louis to sit up quickly.
“Baby,” he says without thinking, “Remember how we’re sharing
this house with two other rooms of people? Do you really want
them to hear you?”
Harry actually glares at Louis. “If you would stop doing all of that
with your tongue, I wouldn’t have to be so loud.”
Louis laughs, his hand slowing on Harry’s dick. “Was that a
legitimate request for me to stop? If you want to get off with your
hand, you can.”

Harry shakes his head, “No, that’s not what I meant.”

Louis tilts his head, squeezing the base of Harry’s cock and pressing
his fingertips into the mark he’s made. “And what is it you are
trying to say?”

278
Harry shakes his head, running his hands over his face. “You are the
biggest tease in all of New Mexico.” They both laugh at that and
then Louis shifts so he can get his mouth on Harry again.

“Keep quiet, H,” he says just before he takes him between his lips.
Harry really doesn’t listen. His quiet gasps turn into guttural moans
and it makes Louis feel like a world class blow job champion but
does nothing for keeping their activities private.
“You’re a loud one,” he muses, kissing up Harry’s stomach and
keeping a steady hand on his cock.
His own cock is heavy between his legs, each sound Harry makes
somehow making him harder.
He wants Harry’s pink lips wrapped around him sooner rather than
later.
“You’re really good at that.” Harry sounds half breathless and half
in disbelief; Louis laughs just over the edge of his collarbone. He
detours to bite on Harry’s nipple and gets a satisfying groan out of
that.
“How are we going to keep you quiet?” Louis asks quietly against
Harry’s neck, his mouth trailing up over his jaw until he kisses his
lips. Harry’s answer doesn’t come as their tongues twist together
and Harry’s mouth falls open to Louis’s lips.
He pulls Harry with his hand, a tight grip as he kisses him deeply,
all of Harry’s moans and soft sounds getting lost right into Louis’s
mouth. It seems to do the trick to keep him quiet until Louis pulls
back to whisper, “You gonna come for me?” and then Harry loses it,
gasping into a louder groan as his cock twitches and the warm
wetness slips over Louis’s hand and his own belly.

279
“Guess that’s a yes,” Louis mutters, kissing him softly and then
sucking on the edge of his jaw as he slows his hand to bring him
back down, the last few strands of come making his fingers sticky.
Louis lets Harry go when he hisses with sensitivity and pulls his
messy hand up between them. He smiles as he wipes it on Harry’s
chest and Harry rolls his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. He
swallows when Louis sucks his pointer finger into his mouth and
licks it clean. Louis smiles at that too.
“Thanks,” Harry says a moment later once Louis has kissed him so
he can taste his come on Louis’s tongue.
“For the blow job?” Louis raises his eyebrow, “You’re really
thanking me?”

Harry smiles, “Or I can return the favor instead?”

Louis doesn’t really like the idea of blow jobs being favors but
when it comes to Harry, he isn’t too picky about verbiage.
“I would love that,” he says, echoing Harry’s sentiment from
before. Harry smiles lazily. “How do you want me?”
Harry’s hands trace up over Louis’s thighs straddling his hips, over
the bulge in the front of his sweats, and then he smirks. As if Louis
could suck him off and not get hard in the process.

“Like this,” Harry says, his smile still stuck.

“How?” Louis asks, still confused.

Harry tucks his hands under Louis’s thighs and grips as he tugs him
up his chest so Louis is sitting over his ribs. “Like this,” Harry says
again. “Fuck my face.”

280
Louis might white out at the words or maybe because of Harry’s
filthy smile that goes along with it. Something about it sends his
body into overdrive and has sweat prickling his spine.
“Yeah, alright,” he says with a shrug as if this isn’t the best offer
he’s received in his entire life of receiving blow jobs.
It’s a trick getting his sweats and boxers down his thighs but then
he’s guiding his dick between
Harry’s plush, bitten-red lips and nothing else really seems to
matter.
Harry’s mouth is warm and tight, his tongue exploring all around
Louis’s length like he’s memorizing it. He wraps his hands over
Louis’s hips as he guides him, slow at first and then a bit harder
once he finds a rhythm he likes.
Louis bites down on his back molars to keep from shooting off
immediately – it’s just that Harry’s messy hair and flushed face,
green eyes and perfect bone structure is a lot for him to handle all at
once. Not to mention his mouth, sinful in every possible way, and
his wicked tongue.
“This keeps you quiet, huh?” Louis asks quietly. He has no idea
why his mouth is taking off with such speed tonight; Harry must
bring it out in him. “A cock in your mouth?” Harry moans around
him and the vibrations make Louis gasp, as loud in the quiet room
as all the times he chastised Harry about.
If Louis thought he was riding a thin edge, it gets a bit worse when
Harry let’s go of his hips and stretches his arms up over his head,
fingers curling around the support beams of the headboard. Louis
thinks he knows what he’s asking for but he pulls from Harry’s
mouth to confirm.

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“You want me to do it myself now?” He brushes his fingers through
the front of Harry’s hair as
Harry nods. “Tell me if it’s too much, yeah? Pinch me.”
Harry is a little shit because he reaches up and pinches Louis’s
nipple right then, hard. It makes Louis squeak in a very undignified
way.

“What was that for?”

“Testing the alarm system,” Harry says, his laughter bubbling over
his words.
Louis laughs and shakes his head, at a loss. Harry is too much – hot
as he is pretty, funny as he is annoying, fucking ridiculous as he is a
fucking minx.
“Get your hand back up there,” he says with only a little heat in his
words. He points at the bar and Harry reaches his arm back up,
fingers twisting around the beam again. “Good boy,” Louis says
with a flick of his eyebrows and Harry rolls his eyes.
From there, Louis can’t find it in himself to joke anymore, his hips
rolling forward into Harry’s mouth, the warm heat of his throat
meeting each press. Louis braces his hands on Harry’s biceps and
curses as he sways his hips, careful of Harry’s gag reflex and losing
himself in the tightness of his mouth.
The edge of his orgasm curls in the bottom of his stomach and he
tries to hold out before the heat licks his ribs and he has to pull
back, his dick slipping from Harry’s mouth with a syrupy pop.
“Come on my face,” Harry asks before Louis can suggest it
because, honestly, coming on Harry’s face should be the star of all
his future wet dreams. It’s only made better when Harry opens his
mouth and presents his tongue, his eyes fluttering closed. Louis’s

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hand has to pull only a few times before he’s spilling in hot ropes
across Harry’s face, splattering against his tongue and eyelashes,
painting over his cheek and jaw.
“Oh my fuck,” Louis breathes as he comes down, his cock pulsing
in his hand and his heart searching for a way out through his chest.
He slides down Harry’s torso to straddle his hips rather than his
chest.
“Yeah?” Harry asks with a sly smile, his tongue tracing his lips to
taste Louis’s come. Louis swears his dick twitches.
“Hang on, babe,” he says, noticing Harry’s eyes are still closed. He
thumbs over his eyelashes to clear them of come and hushes Harry
when he squirms at the movement. “There you go,” he says quietly,
rubbing his thumbs on Harry’s shoulders instead.
Harry scowls but his eyes shine when he opens them, a beautiful
dark green in the glow of the lamp on the table. Louis can’t help it
when he leans forward to kiss him again, not leading anywhere but
only to taste his lips again. Harry kisses back just as earnestly, his
hands slipping from the headboard to find Louis’s hips. It feels on
the edge of too intimate, now that they’re both naked and sated,
kissing in the lamplight. Louis pulls back first.
“We should have been doing that all along,” he says, wiping the
back of his hand over his mouth. He knows he’s cheapened the
moment but Harry laughs along with him; Louis must imagine the
flicker in his eyes just before he does.
“Storm is over,” Harry says, turning his head toward the glass
doors.

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“Guess so.” Louis follows his gaze out into the dark field, knowing
if anyone happened to walk out there, they would have been in full
view of quite the exhibitionist show. Whoops.
“You want to shower first?” Louis asks as he climbs off of Harry
and stands on solid ground again.
“Considering I’m covered in both of our come? Yes,” he says as he
sits up. “Thanks for that, by the way.”
Louis pulls on his discarded sweats while Harry showers and uses
his t-shirt to rub over his body, though he got the cleaner end of the
deal.
It’s well past midnight and the house is quiet as he clears their
dinner bowls and empty wine glasses to the kitchen. His skin is still
buzzing pleasantly from the way the night has turned and he finds
himself smiling like a dope as he puts their dishes in the
dishwasher. There are a few plates and mugs already in there which
Louis uses as confirmation they weren’t alone tonight. Though he
gave Harry all the warnings his sex-addled brain could muster, he
doubts either one of them were quiet enough to make it a mystery
what they were up to.
Louis stomach growls slightly as he scratches the bottom of his
belly, stretching out his neck. Harry’s bananas are on the counter
but they don’t quite seem appealing. Not to him at least. His eyes
fall to the last box of macaroni and he smiles.
Harry finds him in the kitchen pouring the packet of noodles into
the boiling water, mixing them with a wooden spoon. He doesn’t
hear Harry at first until Harry’s hands snake around his bare hips
and rest on his stomach. Louis barely jolts as he leans into it, letting
Harry kiss the side of his neck twice and then bite gently on the side
of his ear.

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He shouldn’t indulge. He knows he shouldn’t. Not when they don’t
talk about things like this, not when they just shared mutual
orgasms without ground rules, not when he feels so comfortable in
Harry’s arms he doesn’t want to let go. He does it anyway and tilts
his head to kiss Harry over his shoulder, smelling the strawberries
of his shampoo in an intoxicating fashion.

“Making macaroni,” he says when they pull away.

“I see that,” Harry says.

Louis pulls from his arms with another chaste kiss to add in the
milk and butter while Harry sits on the counter. He’s only in a pair
of boxers and his pink crew neck and he looks completely happy, a
soft smile on his face, his hair half dry.
“I’ll finish,” he says once Louis measures out the correct amounts
and sets it next to where the noodles are cooking. “You go
shower?”
“Yeah?” Louis tilts his head, “You think you can manage
macaroni?”
Harry rolls his eyes and tries to kick Louis from his perch but Louis
is faster.

*
The shower relaxes Louis’s muscles into near oblivion, the warm
water as effective as a drug as he stays under it for far too long. He
tries not to overanalyze whatever has happened with Harry, what it
might mean. The truth is it probably means nothing and confronting
whether he likes that truth is another task for another time.
Harry is in the bed when Louis comes out, the extra pillows thrown
on the ground and two on each side pushed up against the

285
headboard. Louis pulls on a fresh pair of boxers and turns out the
bathroom light before getting in on the empty side of the bed.
“Of course you took the side closest to the window,” he mutters as
he adjusts the sheets and Harry steadies the bowls of macaroni
between them.
“Sorry,” Harry says, not sounding it at all. He offers Louis his bowl
of macaroni with an almost sweet smile. Louis forgives him.
They both dig into the macaroni at the same time; somehow the
cheesy saltiness tasting as good as it did two hours ago, unhealthy
as ever too.
“Tell me I’m a genius for buying three boxes,” Louis says with his
mouthful. Harry laughs.
“I was thinking about the snacks back at Lover’s Lane when I was
in the shower,” Harry says.
“The sex snacks and how convenient it would be to have food ready
to go when I got out.” “Glad I could be of service, then,”
Louis says. He salutes Harry with his fork and a wink.
Silence melts around them, their forks scraping the bottoms of their
bowls as the finish eating. Louis feels the weight of the day in his
bones, his eyes barely staying open. He sets Harry’s bowl with his
on the nightstand and turns off the light as they both fully get under
the covers, their hips and thighs brushing, ankles knocking as they
adjust. Louis wonders vaguely if he should build the pillow barrier
he built the night they slept in the Jeep but then he thinks about the
way he knows what Harry’s come tastes like and lets it go. Louis
barely settles into his pillow when Harry clears his throat. “Louis?”
“Yes, Harry,” he hums, eyes closing slowly.
“Do you like to cuddle?”

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Louis snorts when he laughs. “Why?”
“Just wondering,” Harry says, voice small. Louis cracks an eye
open to see Harry rolling onto his side, his back to Louis in the
moonlight.

“Harry,” Louis says, opening both eyes.

“Yeah?”
Louis takes a deep breath and asks on the exhale, “Do you like to
cuddle?” “Yes,” Harry says, no shyness in his tone.
“Interesting,” Louis says without moving. He watches the tense line
of Harry’s shoulders in the dull light and he can’t help himself as he
scoots forward to press against Harry’s back. It’s kind of worth it
for the way Harry melts right into him; his breath pushed in a
whoosh as Louis drapes his arm over Harry’s hip and lets his palm
rest on his stomach.
“Like this?” He asks quietly, his lips brushing the back of Harry’s
shoulder unintentionally.

“Yes,” Harry breathes.

Louis pulls him in a bit tighter and tells himself he’s doing it for
Harry. He’s just doing it to round out their night of breaking rules
and being too close, that’s all. In the morning, it’ll be different. In
the morning he won’t want to kiss, touch or hold Harry anymore.
It’s a onetime thing.
He falls asleep with his face pressed to the back of Harry’s neck and
he thinks, even then, he knows he’s lying.

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DAY TEN

Pie Town, New Mexico

Morning comes in with a slow sunrise that pulls Louis from sleep as
he blinks awake. The view out the windows is breathtaking and it
catches his attention first, the rolling plains of New Mexico
unbroken from the storm overnight; like it was all a fever dream.
Louis inhales and focuses on the steady warmth all along his front
and dark hair brushing under his nose next.
He didn't separate from Harry during the night; his subconscious
clearly didn't take his late night mantras to heart and make him
want to hold Harry any less while he was sleeping. If anything, he's
pressed closer to Harry than when he fell asleep, well aware of his
ankle slipped between Harry's bony ones, his hand flat on Harry's
stomach and measuring each breath he takes under his palm.
Louis isn't as startled as he expects; instead, he feels warm and lazy
as he registers the press of Harry's bare skin against his thighs and
up to his chest. If Harry were awake, he could probably feel Louis's
heartbeat through the back of his ribs. Louis breathes slowly and
feels like he could melt right back into sleep like this, pressed tight
together. He lets his eyes flutter closed for the moment, imagines
what it would be like to wake up again with Harry in a few hours.
If the circumstances were different, perhaps they'd wake up with
warm kisses and sloppy blow jobs, laugh about the sheer amount of
macaroni they ate in a three hour period the night before, joke about
how ridiculous a thing like a lightning field even is.
He didn't have a headache when he opened his eyes first but he can
feel one swerving in slowly. He takes a deep breath, fills his lungs
and then fills his stomach when he exhales. They may have blurred
too many lines overnight but Louis knows for sure that they can't

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wake up together, not like this. Louis pulls back with more effort
than it should take and notices a chill in the room he didn't feel
before; or, maybe, he's already missing Harry like a physical ache.

*
Harry is up when Louis comes out of the shower twenty minutes
later.
He's sitting on the bed in jean shorts and a green sweatshirt, his legs
tucked up under him with his camera in his lap. It's quiet except for
his thumb clicking through the navigation button on the back.
All of the clothes strewn around the floor from last night are gone,
Louis's stacked neatly by his backpack. Round two of the macaroni
has disappeared and even the bed has been haphazardly put back
together where Harry sits. If anyone had to guess, it's just another
morning same as the others.
Nothing has changed, nothing is different.
Louis gets dressed quietly in his jean shorts and light pink tank top
with a grey zip hoodie over the top. He puts on socks and his tennis
shoes sitting on the opposite side of the bed from Harry, trying,
desperately, to think of what to say to break the tension.

Nothing comes.
"Ready?" Harry asks first when Louis zips up his bag with an air of
finality.

"Yeah," Louis says lamely. "You?"

Harry is bent over his own bag and Louis tries not to stare at his
thighs - thighs that might have bite marks on them from his own

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mouth. Harry stands and holds up his toothbrush. "Just need to
brush my teeth," he says, already heading for the bathroom.
Louis grabs his bag and slips it over his shoulder, checking around
for anything he's forgotten. He knocks lightly on the bathroom door
and calls that he'll meet Harry at the car. Maybe a few extra minutes
will help him organize his head; organize the uneven beating of his
fucking heart.

*
Louis gets to the car only to realize Harry still has the keys so he
has to wait by the front bumper like a sullen teenager until Harry
finally makes it to the parking lot.
“Louis,” he says with a smile when he’s close enough, “I have a
surprise for you.”
Louis crosses his arms still unsure how he wants to play it around
Harry. How he wants to hide the fact he can’t stop thinking about
last night. “Oh, do you?”
“Yep.” Harry punctuates the sentence by unlocking the doors to the
car. Louis doesn’t move.

“Are you going to tell me the surprise or what?”

Harry grins. “We’ve officially made it back on track Route 66 so
the itinerary can continue.”
Louis blinks and can’t pinpoint why his gut feels the impact of the
statement. “I thought we were having a good time being
adventurous,” he says. “Is Mr. Itinerary back from vacation?”

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Harry rolls his eyes and Louis can’t help the way his lips twitch into
an almost smile. Regardless of how Louis wants to play it, Harry
will always throw him off of his game.
“The timeline is essentially fucked now,” Harry explains as they put
their bags in the backseat.
What had started as an orderly pile of things in the trunk of the car
has now spread to a mash of things everywhere.
“That can’t possibly be true.” They’ve driven enough long
stretches, Louis is sure they’ve caught up with the timeline by now.
Harry shrugs, “We’re running half a day behind but we can still do
everything I planned.”
“What did you have planned next?” Louis asks hesitantly. They’ve
been on a streak of interesting tourist spots - making out on cars and
blow jobs included.
“Petrified Forest National Park.” Harry actually sounds excited
about it and Louis feels like they’ve taken two steps backwards.
Louis sighs loudly, “And here I thought it was going to be
something fun.”
“It’ll be fun,” Harry says, throwing another smile at Louis before
getting in the car.
Louis rolls his eyes and sighs as he shuts his own door. It’s quiet for
a moment and he thinks maybe Harry will say something about last
night but the silence leaks into another moment. Louis swallows,
still waiting. There’s clearly an elephant sitting on the center
console between them and clearly they aren’t planning to talk about
it.

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“Starting route to the Petrified Forest National Park,” in Siri’s
clipped monotone echoes over the speakers. Louis glances over as
Harry sets his phone up for navigation.

“Ready?” Harry asks, meeting Louis’s gaze.

Louis shrugs as if he has a choice. Harry takes that as answer
enough as he pulls out of the parking lot and they leave the fields of
lightning behind. Louis isn’t sure leaving behind the baggage they
created last night will be quite as easy.

*
They don't make it very far down the road before Harry detours into
a kitschy diner just off the highway with a sheepish smile. "I'm kind
of hungry," he says.
Like most of the diners they've come across on Route 66, this one is
themed for its location with highway signs and maps plastered on
all of the walls. It's fairly busy considering they're on time for the
breakfast rush but they get a corner booth with two cups of hot
coffee easily.
Louis finds it hard to hold Harry’s eyes for too long as they look
over the menu and debate the pros and cons of waffles against
pancakes like it’s any other day. Louis nearly blurts out, “I’ve had
your cock in my mouth,” but bites his tongue at the last moment.
It’s not as though he’s never shared a meal with the same person
he’s slept with but usually there are established boundaries, usually
someone has already acknowledged the fact they swapped bodily
fluids. Harry asks about Louis’s stance on blueberries in pancakes
and Louis doesn’t think they’re going to get very far in the case of
acknowledgement. At least not like this.

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Maybe this is how it’s going to work, he thinks as Harry orders
from the waitress. Maybe they’ll kiss on top of cars and make each
other come to the sound of the thunder but they won’t talk about it.
Maybe Louis will have to be okay with that.

“Louis?”
He looks up at Harry's voice, blinking his dry eyes from staring at
the table. Harry looks concerned as he nudges his head toward the
waitress now waiting expectantly for Louis's order.
"Sorry," he mutters and then points at the first thing he sees, a
southwestern breakfast skillet.
Seems fitting for their location.
"Are you okay?" Harry asks quietly once the waitress leaves, his
eyebrows pulling together and his eyes searching Louis's face.
Louis looks out the window, nervous about what Harry will find in
his expression. "Tired," he says. What would happen if he told
Harry he was the opposite of tired - well rested because he'd slept
so comfortably with Harry in his arms? He doesn’t really know the
answer.
"Guess I can snooze while you drive," Louis says looking over
again. "Sucker."
Harry smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. For the first time
Louis wonders if Harry was more affected by the night than he’s
letting on.

Not that it even matters.

Louis rubs his hands over his face and lifts his coffee mug with both
hands. He sips without looking at Harry. They have to get through
this – this awkward lump they’re currently stuck on.

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He looks up to tell Harry a joke – a joke he hasn’t even thought of
but something that will cut the icy air only to find Harry already
staring at him. He blushes and looks away, half a smile curling on
his lips but only because he’s been caught. Louis clears his throat.
Maybe it’s not as easy to clear as telling a joke. Maybe it’s more
like a sprained ankle and they need to walk off the after effects until
it feels better. Just a sprained ankle.

*
Two hours in complete silence in the car makes it feel more like a
broken leg than a sprained ankle. It’s obvious there is something
sitting between them that they aren’t talking about, obvious they
both know it’s there.
Harry gets out of the car first at the park and Louis sits in the quiet
for a moment more. He runs his hands along the tops of his thighs
and takes a deep breath. It feels like the moment before a big game,
his stomach tied in knots. There’s no way he’ll survive the rest of
the day – the rest of the trip – in this odd limbo of whether or not a
one night stand is important enough to mention. If he has to act like
it’s nothing, put on the brave face to get them both through it, he
will. If walking off the sprained ankle won’t work, he’ll force it.

*
Louis has always been the mediator in his family. The one who
keeps a calm face when everyone panics, the one who can make the
younger kids stop crying when things aren’t fun. He’s pretty good
at pushing his emotions behind his heart and putting on a happy
face.
It turns out a day with Harry is no exception.

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He starts by getting out of the car and making fun of Harry’s untied
converse shoes and then tapping his toe impatiently while Harry
ties him. Harry stands up with a smirk that actually touches his eyes
and Louis thinks maybe they’ll be alright.
The Petrified Forest is nothing to write home about. In fact, Louis
feels himself forgetting it even as they walk through the trails
showing off the bits of petrified wood and the forests frozen
forever. He tells Harry as much and Harry rolls his eyes before
taking another picture.
“You realize it’s remarkable it’s even here, right?” Harry asks,
pulling his camera away from his face. “This was all covered in a
volcanic explosion and could have easily burned up. Then it was
covered for millions of years and it could have stayed that way.”
“Lucky for us it didn’t,” Louis says, crossing his arms. Harry gives
him a blank stare he’s given him for a full week when he says
something sarcastic except this time Louis kind of wants to kiss it
off his face. It’s a problem.
As if Harry can tell, he clears his throat and keeps walking. Louis
follows quickly.
The wood is boring but Louis can find the higher merits in it when
he tries, the brighter colors hidden beneath the bark, the rainbows
twisting through the edges.
“It’s kind of crazy,” Harry muses as they look out over an entire
patch of toppled logs. “To think something like this exists now.
Something that was around when the dinosaurs were.”
Louis scoffs before he realizes Harry is serious. “Dinosaurs? Harry,
honestly.”
“It was,” Harry says, a bit petulant. “I read an article about it.”

295
Louis isn’t sure that qualifies as foolproof knowledge but he lets it
go.
“Can you go with something for a second?” Harry is smiling when
Louis looks over with a raised eyebrow.

“Go with what?”

Harry licks his bottom lip and smiles. “Something you’ll think is
really dumb.”

Louis sighs loudly, “Go on.”

“I know trees can’t think for themselves but it’s kind of interesting
how like, they were at their most beautiful when they were fully
alive –“

“With the dinosaurs,” Louis interrupts and Harry flips him off.
“And then there was a volcanic explosion that took them out and
made them dismembered and ugly, you know?”
Louis catches where Harry is going before he says it. “But then a
million years later they came out looking even better than they were
at their best?”
Harry smiles and it's shy, like he’s waiting for Louis to tell him he’s
ridiculous. Which, he is – but he happens to be Louis’s favorite
brand of ridiculousness lately.
“It says something about legacies,” Harry says, scratching his
eyebrow. “That’s what I was thinking. You may think you’re having
an effect on the world or on a life but you might not be around to
actually see the way it all shakes out. Even at your best you still
may get better.”

296
Louis opens his mouth and then shuts it. He doesn’t even want to
make fun of Harry. He wants to lay out a blanket right here and hear
every silly thought in Harry’s brain – he wants to debate the color
of dawn and what is at the very bottom of the ocean. Like a wave,
he feels the urge to hear everything Harry has to say and any other
things he thinks about when he’s looking at a bunch of dead trees
on the ground.
Louis runs his teeth over his lip, shaking his head slowly. Harry
Styles is not a sprained ankle.
“What do you want your legacy to be?” Louis asks, turning his
body to face Harry. He feels like he has to know now, like it’s
urgent.
“That’s a huge fucking question,” Harry says with wide eyes and
Louis has to laugh. For all of Harry’s introspection, things can still
trip him up.

“I know,” Louis says. “Just off the top of your head, go.”
Harry takes a deep breath and looks up at the sky. Right when Louis
gets impatient, he meets his eyes. “I want to live a life in love,” he
says. “I want to be in love with my life, every moment of it, even
the moments that aren’t so great.”

Louis blinks, “How do you do that?”

Harry smiles, “I don’t know. It’s a work in progress maybe.”

Louis tilts his head, “Maybe like the home thing. Home is not a
place but a person, being in love with your life is not a full stop but
a promise.”

Harry rubs his lips together but doesn’t laugh. “You lost me.”

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Louis rubs his forehead, “I lost myself, honestly. I think that
deciding to fall in love with your life doesn’t happen right away, but
in the end. When you look back, you know if you were in love. If
all the shitty moments were actually paving the way for bigger and
better ones.” Harry nods right along with Louis’s words and it
makes him smile.
“That’s it, yeah,” he says. “I guess I want my legacy to be built
throughout my life and when I get to the end, I know it’s settled. I
did what I could, loved with what I had. Ended up happy,
hopefully.”
Louis purses his lips. “For someone who is so pessimistic about
love, you seem pretty hell bent on finding it again. Filling up your
whole life with it.”
Harry shakes his head, “I wasn’t burned by love. I was burned by
infatuation.” “Infatuation can break your heart?” Louis asks, no
judgement only curiosity.
“Worse than love,” Harry says. “You never see it coming because
you’re blind to your own weakness. With love, I think you know
the weaknesses and the scars. You fall despite all that.”

Louis shakes his head, “You’re something else, Harry Styles.”

Harry laughs as they start back down the path. “That’s not the first
time you’ve said that to me.” Louis throws a grin over his shoulder.
“Lou, you didn’t say what your legacy would be,” Harry says after
a minute or so.
“I know.” Louis takes a few paces backward to smile at Harry. “I
don’t know what it would be.
That’s a huge fucking question Styles.”

298
“You made me answer it,” Harry accuses and Louis can almost see
his eyebrows pulling together without even looking.
“It’s not my fault you like to do what I say.” Louis has a flash of a
memory of telling Harry to put his hands on the headboard last
night and loses his train of thought completely, heat rushing from
his toes up to his head. Harry says something else and Louis laughs
instinctually but he doesn’t really listen. Harry Styles is definitely
not a sprained ankle; he’s not going to walk this one off anytime
soon.

*
The Painted Desert is only a few miles up the road and a bit more
interesting than the petrified trees. Only a bit. The mountains and
small canyons are impressively colored – red rocks with white,
orange and purple accents – and there’s an endless blue sky
overhead. It’s not as aggressively warm as Louis expects from a
desert, though he does ditch his sweatshirt before they get out of the
car for Harry to take more photos.
Louis wanders toward one of the smaller gift shops to buy them
some water and then they perch on a boulder overlooking the
desert, the multi-colored hues all coming together like an enchanted
canyon from the vantage point.
“I didn’t think it would be this pretty,” Louis admits. He leans back
on his palms and tips his head back toward the sun, closing his
eyes.
“It’s not like you’re even looking,” Harry comments. Louis opens
one eye to see Harry in his same position, both eyes closed and he
smiles.

299
“You’re not either,” Louis says. “And don’t lie; I’m looking right at
you.”
Harry opens his eyes and tilts his head back down, smiling slowly.
“Caught me.”
Louis presses his lips together and closes his eyes again. He swears
he can feel the sun all the way in his bones, warming him from the
inside out on the edge of the cliff. There are scattered sounds in the
desert but he’s most aware of Harry breathing next to him, like his
ears have become tuned into the sound over time.
“It is pretty,” Harry says eventually and this time when Louis looks
at him his gaze is actually cast over the desert.
“More colors than I thought there’d be,” Louis says, blinking
against the sunlight. He really needs to bring his sunglasses the next
time they get out of the car.
“Definitely not as hot,” Harry says, reclining back until he’s lying
flat. The ground is dusty and Louis is sure there are bugs but Harry
doesn’t seem to mind. He pulls the edge of his shirt up to his chest
to expose his belly to the sun. Louis has to look away.
“Would you actually have done all this if you were alone?” Louis
asks after silence lapses again.
“Done what?” Harry doesn’t open his eyes or lift his head, his
fingers tapping against the butterfly on his stomach.
“Everything,” Louis says. “Swimming at Blue Hole and going to
the Lightning Field, laying here with your shirt halfway off.”
Harry lifts his head and squints at Louis, one hand blocking the sun
from his eyes. “I think so, yeah.”

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Louis stretches his legs out in front of him, “Wouldn’t it have been
lonely?”
Harry sits up and his shirt falls only part of the way back in place.
“I don’t really get lonely.”

Louis gapes, “What?”

“I don’t know.” Harry shrugs, “I guess I’m just good at being with
myself. I don’t mind it.”
“I would have gone stir crazy if it was just me and the open road,”
Louis admits freely. He’s not built for being alone with only his
thoughts for company.
“I would suggest not planning a solo road trip, then,” Harry says,
smiling wryly.

“Guess not,” Louis mutters.

It’s only quiet for a moment before Harry looks over again. “Were
you trying to get me to say this has all been better because you
came with me?”
Louis’s laughter surprises even him. “Definitely not,” he says.
“That didn’t cross my mind actually.”

“Oh,” Harry says, nodding and looking back toward the desert.
Louis feels as though he’s missed something. “Is that what you
wanted me to say?”
Harry shakes his head. “No. It has been, though. I would have had
fun by myself but I do enjoy having you with me.”
“I thought you liked to be alone,” Louis says, squinting with a grin
over his lips.

301
“Sometimes that can be trumped by the right company.”
Louis puts a hand over his heart and gasps. “Oh, aren’t you a
sweetheart?”
Harry rolls his eyes and stands up, dusting off his shorts.
“Whatever. Ready to go?”
Louis nods and stands slowly, feeling whiplash from the
conversation. “Yeah,” he says lamely following after Harry to the
car. He replays the conversation as they walk, trying to figure out
the reason for Harry’s moody turn but comes up empty.

*
The Jeep is hot after baking in the sun for a few hours so Louis rolls
all the windows down as they speed on I-80 toward Holbrook.
Harry said something about a rock shop he wanted to go to in the
town but he said it so quietly Louis couldn’t even tease him for it.
He can’t help himself looking over at Harry as they drive mostly
because Harry refuses to look at him. He keeps his eyes out the
opposite window and doesn’t even comment when Louis attempts
to hit the same high notes as Sam Smith when his record comes on.
Louis doesn’t get it – what happened or what changed while they
were sunbathing. It’s the most innocent activity they’ve done in the
last twenty-four hours but for some reason it’s put everything in a
weird limbo. He feels itchy with heat and with tension, the quiet
getting louder in the silent moments between songs switching on
the playlist.
He’s in the middle of figuring out how to break it when he spots a
faded blue sign with a scratched up ‘Swimming Area’ in white
lettering. He slams the breaks and turns the car at the same time

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which gets Harry to finally speak even if it is, “What the fuck is
wrong with you?” as the car skids along a gravel trail.
“Sorry,” Louis apologizes with a grin, adrenaline twirling in his
stomach as he navigates the Jeep on the narrow road.
“What are you doing?” Harry yells at him, the loudest Louis has
ever heard him by far.
“We’re going on an adventure,” Louis calls back, eyes on the road
as he follows the next sign for swimming.
“Fuck.” Harry slams his hands on the dashboard as they go over a
particularly vicious bump. “Fuck you and your adventures.”
“Don’t be rude,” Louis hollers back over the crunching gravel, his
smile becoming permanent. The faded sign must not have been a
good enough invitation to other passing travelers because there are
no other cars at the base of the hill, a small gravel parking lot with
overgrown bushes. The car jolts when Louis hits the brakes again
and then he turns off the ignition, silence swarming them both
immediately.
Harry is staring at Louis with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. He
looks like he could inflict some serious damage if his eyes were
lasers. Louis swallows but doesn’t lose his nerve.

“We’re going swimming.”

Harry blinks rapidly and Louis smiles before getting out of the car.
He pulls his tank top over his head and then sets about untying his
shoes while Harry sits motionless in the car. Louis stands up once
his feet are bare, the gravel rough under his toes. It’s kind of worth
it for the dumb look on Harry’s face, the way his eyes keep
bouncing from Louis’s chest to his stomach to his eyes, his lips
parted.

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“Are you going to make me go alone?” Louis asks, tilting his head.
If he had to guess, he’d say he’s straddling a thin line between
making Harry laugh and making him start to yell again.
“What the fuck?” is what Louis gets instead. Whispered and half
in disbelief as Harry stares at him. “Who the hell are you?”
“Louis Tomlinson, baby,” Louis says with a quick wink. “And I’m
taking you swimming. Come on.” Louis isn’t sure he’s got Harry all
the way on board but he catches his eye as he undoes his jean shorts
and hooks his thumbs in the sides, swaying his hips as they slide
down. If someone asked him what he’s planning to accomplish, he
wouldn’t really have an answer.
He steps out of his shorts and tosses them in the front seat, standing
only in his boxers on the edge of an unnamed lake in Arizona. It’s
ridiculous and sends a flurry of fizz up his stomach. Harry is still
staring, still unmoving with no signs of actually moving anytime
soon.
Louis had hoped to crack through the weird tension between them.
He thought doing something this stupid would shake them out of
the rut they’ve put themselves in. Considering he’s standing outside
in his boxers and Harry doesn’t look impressed, he doesn’t think it
is working very well.
He knows he can’t back down now, not with his pride still intact,
so he tosses one more smile at Harry and then starts off toward the
dock. For some reason, walking out there alone isn’t as invigorating
as the thought of having Harry beside him.
He’s thinking how walking the dock will feel like walking the plank
when he hears the reverb of the car door slamming. He pauses and
looks back to see Harry running full speed at him, his shirt already
gone as he hops around on one leg kicking his shoes off and then

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his socks. Louis covers his mouth in a weak attempt at hiding his
laughter.
“Fucking shit that hurts,” Harry howls as he walks along the gravel,
picking up his knees higher like that will help.
“You’re leaving a trail of clothes like Hansel and Gretel,” Louis
says as soon as Harry is close enough. He motions back at the string
of clothes and Harry does too. He shrugs.
The last piece to go is Harry’s jean shorts and then they’re standing
at the bottom of the dock in just their boxers, heading right for the
edge and the lake beyond.
“Do we run?” Harry asks, glancing over. There’s a smile playing
around on his lips and Louis’s heart feels like it’s glowing as he
licks his bottom lip.
“Should we?” He says as he starts to do it anyway, Harry catching
his step easily.
They both start laughing as they cross the halfway point and then
they’re sprinting like it’s a race, Harry launching himself off the
edge of the dock just before Louis, their splashes almost
simultaneous as they go under.
The water is icy and sends shivers up Louis’s spine as he fights to
surface again, gasping for air when he does, his heart pounding with
shock and adrenaline all at once. Harry pops up with the same gasp
only a couple of feet away, grinning. When they catch each other’s
eye they both start laughing as they tread water up to their chests,
hair sticking up oddly on their heads.
“This is so stupid,” Harry says over his smile, paddling closer to
Louis as he does.

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“I know,” Louis says as he catches his breath. “But it’s an
adventure.”
Just as his heartbeat starts to settle, it gets thrown into a frenzy
again as Harry moves fully into his space, his smile slipping as the
water between them squelches out into nothing. Louis isn’t
prepared when Harry kisses him, his breath completely punched out
as he tries to stay upright under Harry’s lips, his hands grabbing
onto Harry as their legs twist together underwater.
It hardly works and they end up spluttering against each other,
warm breath against cool skin. Louis doesn’t give it up, though,
tilting his head for a better angle as he kisses Harry again. Their
chests press together in the water, heartbeats ricocheting off their
ribs. This is the problem, he thinks, even as he gasps into Harry’s
mouth. They kiss like this and then try to act like nothing has
happened. Louis slows their kisses, pulling back slightly.
“Harry.” He spits out some lake water and moves his hands to
Harry’s shoulders as Harry opens his eyes. His cheeks are pink and
his lips are kissed red, his green eyes curious as he looks at Louis.
“We have to talk about this.”
Harry ignores him or doesn’t hear him because he’s kissing Louis
again, his hands up in Louis’s hair like he’s holding on until Louis
pulls away again.

“Harry,” he repeats, more forcefully.

Harry shakes his head this time, kissing Louis’s jaw once before
he looks up. “We don’t,” he says. “We don’t have to talk.”
“Harry,” Louis starts for a third time but it comes out quietly as he
kisses Harry again, softly, memorizing the taste of his lips. “Okay,”
he says between kisses. “Okay.”

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Harry pulls away next, flipping under the water and coming back up
a few feet further and challenging Louis to a race to the other side
of the lake. Louis takes off immediately but they barely make it
halfway before they simultaneously declare the distance too far.
They swim around a bit more in the middle and float around on
their backs as they make it back toward the shore.
They don’t kiss again as they climb out of the lake, their boxers
sticking too tightly to their skin. Louis does pinch the curve of
Harry’s ass because he can’t help it and then runs full speed toward
the Jeep with a squeal.
Breathless with laughter, they change on different sides of the car,
putting on dry boxers and their old clothes before getting back
inside. Louis’s lips tingle from the sun and the lake water, but
mostly from Harry. He navigates the car back to the highway and
then starts off toward Holbrook again. Harry puts on Shania Twain
and sings at the top of his lungs and Louis laughs louder than he has
all day. True to his word, true to Harry’s request – they don’t talk
about it.

*
Holbrook is less than an hour down the road and Harry takes over
navigation pointing toward a large green dinosaur on the corner.
Large doesn’t even begin to cover it as the thing looms over the
building closest to it with a few smaller dinosaurs around it.

“H,” Louis says as they slow the car, “What the fuck is this?”
“Rainbow Rock Shop,” Harry says simply already undoing his
seatbelt.
Louis pulls into the only open spot in the small parking lot. “My
lake adventure was more fun.”

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“Maybe so,” Harry says easily. “But it didn’t include a giant
dinosaur, so.” “Can’t compete with that,” Louis mutters as they
get out of the car.
Harry heads straight for the dinosaur with his camera and then puts
up a minimal fight when Louis steals the camera from him and
makes him stand beneath the dinosaur for a photo. Harry’s smile
fills his face, his mouth open and eyes wide as he holds up a peace
sign.
“You look like an enthusiastic child,” Louis comments when he
turns the camera toward Harry so he can see the screen.
“You can act unbothered by the dinosaurs,” Harry says primly. “I
know you’re impressed.”
Louis smiles, “Yeah, and now we get to go look at more rocks.
Wonders never cease with you, huh?”
Of all things to happen next, Louis doesn’t expect for Harry to kiss
him, quick and far too short before he pulls back and heads toward
the rock shop. Louis blinks quickly and then hurries after him, mind
running in circles on its own.
The rainbow rocks are another thing that sounds cooler than they
really are as Louis follows Harry along the tables lined with bins
full of large, colorful rocks. They’re pretty but they’re rocks – just
like all the ones they saw earlier in the day. Louis still thinks the
lake wins out.
It is slightly entertaining to watch Harry pick up all of the rocks and
investigate them like he’s an archaeologist. Louis steals the camera
back to get some pictures of Harry and his rocks even though he
doesn’t end up buying any.

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“Is this a real thing people come for?” Louis asks once Harry is
satisfied and they walk toward the main street of the town. As with
most towns they’ve stopped in, there’s only one main street to visit,
the rest of the side streets too small and sporadic to navigate as an
outsider.
“I guess,” Harry says, pressing his lips together. “I thought it would

be more impressive, honestly.” “A rock is a rock.”

“In every shade of the rainbow, unfortunately.” Harry turns off his
camera and lets it settle against his chest. “Should we get food?”
“Considering we skipped lunch?” Louis raises his eyebrows,
“Definitely.”

“Is that you apologizing for taking me to the lake?”

Louis stops short as Harry laughs and then turns the opposite
direction, pretending to walk away.
“I’m kidding,” Harry calls as he runs after him, catching Louis by
the waist and pulling him back in the right direction. “It’s a joke.”
“Better be,” Louis says haughtily, taking Harry’s hand from his
waist but not letting go. “I quite enjoyed the lake.”
Harry’s thumb wiggles on the back of Louis’s hand and then goes
still. “So did I,” he says quietly.
Louis kisses him then, soft and sweet before letting Harry’s hand
drop from his as they start walking. They may not be talking about
it but he’s going to take advantage anyway.

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Romo’s is a bright pink Mexican restaurant with neon signs and
rainbow lettering across the front that easily stands out against the
rest of the street.
“Rainbow rocks were questionable, do we think rainbow Mexican
food will be better?” Louis asks seriously as they come to a stop.
Harry starts to smile and then stops himself with a nod. “We’ll stage
a full investigation and find out.” Louis holds out his hand for a
handshake and huffs through his laughter at Harry’s serious
handshake in response.
“Have we had Mexican food yet?” Louis asks as they seat
themselves in a back booth. The walls are painted dark orange and
adorned with rainbow sombreros and colorful figurines, lending to
an impressive atmosphere considering they’re in a small town on
the edge of Arizona.
“Didn’t we have tacos?” Harry squints his eyes as he slides into the
booth across from Louis. “I feel like I remember having a taco in
my mouth.”
Louis lifts his eyebrows, “You only remember it after it was in your
mouth, nothing else?”

“It’s not weird,” he says pointing at Louis. “Don’t make it weird.”

Louis holds up his hands and shakes his head. “You’re the one who
can’t remember what you put in your mouth only that it got there,”
he says.
Harry starts to say something else but the waiter appears,
disappointingly dressed in a black polo shirt and jeans. For a second
Louis thought everything they encountered would involve a
rainbow. “I think we know what we want,” Harry says with a happy
smile before Louis can even glance at the menu. His, “Wait,

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what?” gets taken over by Harry. “We’ll do a pitcher of the
strawberry margarita, the guacamole sampler and then your three
favorite entrées.”
“Three?” Louis echoes as the waiter makes a note on his paper pad
and then walks away. Louis is pretty sure Harry winks at him.
“We’re doing a full investigation, Louis,” Harry says. “We need to
get a diverse sampling for our report.”
Louis opens and closes his mouth and then shrugs. “Alright. Do you
always drink on the job?”
“No,” Harry says with a smile, “But I just like the idea of a pink
margarita.”
“Of course you do.” Of all the things Louis knows about Harry, a
pink margarita seems like a good marker of his personality – soft
and pretty with a sweet taste and a sour bite.
“What’s your favorite drink?” Harry puts his elbows on the table
and cradles his chin in his palms.

Louis tilts his head, “I think beer, honestly.”

Harry scrunches his nose, “Beer?”

“Yeah,” Louis says, nodding. “Just a beer.” He laughs at Harry’s
bored expression. “Why, what do you like?”
“Tequila shots,” he says right away like he’s been waiting for the
question. “I love tequila shots.”
“I thought you didn’t go out very much?” In the beginning Louis
just assumed Harry didn’t know how to have fun but now that he
knows he does, he’s curious about Harry’s quiet lifestyle.

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“I like going out with people I know,” Harry says fairly. “I don’t
like to be in situations where I end up alone.”
Louis narrows his eyes, “Today you said you like to be alone. Like
seven hours ago.”

Harry smiles, “Can’t I like both?”

Not when I’m trying to understand you, Louis thinks. “Sure you
can,” he says out loud.

“What drink do you buy when you’re trying to flirt?”

Louis laughs, “Do you have a list of questions memorized or
something?”
“I’m making conversation,” Harry says with a wide smile. “Is that a
crime?”
Louis rubs his forehead, thinking. “I guess I usually get something
simple like a vodka soda.
Something everyone likes.”

“I wouldn’t like that.”

Louis shrugs, “Not trying to flirt with you, am I?”

Harry smirks, “Yeah, alright. Vodka soda is boring, by the way.”

“I once bought a guy Sex on the Beach,” Louis says. “On a Spring
Break trip in Hawaii. Is that exciting enough? A drink and a
proposition all in one.”
Harry lifts his shoulder, “I guess.” He looks down at the table and
then meets Louis’s eye again.
“Do you buy a lot of guys that drink?”

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“Sex on the Beach?”
“Yeah.” Harry licks his lip, “Or a drink that doubles as a
proposition, I mean.”
Louis’s eyebrows pull together, confusion written up and down his
face. He feels like they aren’t talking about drinks anymore. “Are
you asking if I proposition a lot of guys?”
Harry’s cheeks flush and he shakes his head quickly. “No, no that’s
your business.”
“I don’t,” Louis says, cutting Harry off before he starts word
vomiting. He knows Harry isn’t trying to be invasive; it’s his
awkward way of asking if Louis sleeps around. Louis knows him
well enough by now to see through his backhanded, upside down
questions. Or sometimes he can, at least. Harry nods and scratches
at his eyebrow. “I’m sorry if that was out of line.”
“You’re fine,” Louis says, meaning it. There’s a pause and then he
smiles. “Do you proposition many people with drinks?”
Harry shakes his head this time. “No, you’d have to have a social
life to do that.”
“Not necessarily,” Louis starts and then cuts off with a laugh when
Harry scowls. “I have another question,” he says. “What drink do
you buy when you’re flirting?”
Harry grins slowly as the waiter turns the corner toward them. His
words are syrupy slow and make Louis blush. “Strawberry
margarita,” he says.

*
Strawberry margaritas eventually turn to standard margaritas and
three entrees are far too much for either of them to finish though

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they make a valiant effort. Louis hardly pays attention to how many
margaritas they finish after the first pitcher, more concerned with
the happy feeling settling over him like a haze.
It’s a good change of pace considering the roller coaster of
emotions Louis has been through since the first moment he opened
his eyes this morning. Not to mention how red Harry’s lips get
when he drinks. Fuck, Louis deserves to lose track of how many
margaritas he’s had.
They talk about things that don’t matter - how Harry wants to learn
to master a signature dish and Louis just wants to start cooking at
home more instead of picking up food on his way back from class.
“It’s just easier to pick up Thai food on the way home than actually
make something,” Louis says, licking the salt from one of the
margaritas, he’s not positive what one.
“That’s true,” Harry says with tilt of his head. “Not very healthy,
though. Or cost efficient.”
“Cost efficient,” Louis snorts and then snaps his fingers. “You need
to learn to make Thai food.
That will be your signature dish. Then I could come eat it.”

“Hey.” Harry pushes his lips out. “Who said I would invite you?”
“Honestly?” Louis takes a long sip of his margarita. It tastes like
more tequila than the watermelon Harry ordered them on their most
recent trip to the back bar. “Why wouldn’t you invite me? I’m a
wonderful dinner guest.”

Harry smiles, “Yeah, I’d invite you.”

Louis feels warmth curling under his lungs and swears it’s the
tequila.

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They talk about the places they want to travel and Harry tells Louis
about his obsession with “How It’s Made” documentaries and
makes Louis promise to watch one. He goes so far as to make Louis
pinky promise which, he says, is as binding as a legal agreement.
Discussion goes up the road of embarrassing childhood stories and
then back toward favorite foods and weirdest foods they’ve ever
tried.
By the time the restaurant is empty their leftover food has long gone
cold and the bill has sat unpaid on the edge of their table for far past
an acceptable amount of time. Most of the lights have been dimmed
in the restaurant and the floors are being mopped. Louis has been so
lost in Harry for the last couple of hours, maybe even more than
that, and it feels like the twilight zone as he looks around. He walks
his credit card up to the waiter with an apologetic smile and then he
can’t stop giggling when he comes back to the table to find Harry
haphazardly cleaning and stacking dishes. “Come on,” Louis says,
grabbing Harry’s arm and pulling him from the booth.
“Hang on,” Harry says tugging his arm back. He downs the rest of
his margarita through the straw and smacks his lips. “Tasty.”
He goes back to picking up the crumbs on the table and setting
them back on the nearest plate and Louis rolls his eyes but leaves
him be. He finds his feet sway him more than usual as he meets the
waiter in the middle of the restaurant to sign his receipt and get his
card back. He leaves an exorbitant tip but considering he doesn’t
know neither what time it is nor what time Romo’s actually closed
tonight, he thinks it’s probably acceptable.
“We’re so sorry,” Harry calls as he gets out of the booth. Louis tries
to shush him but it’s no use really as Harry tries to navigate his
spaghetti limbs through the tables and over to Louis. “We just really
enjoyed the margaritas.”

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“They were good,” Louis says with a smile and then he gets the air
knocked out of him as Harry latches his arms around his waist and
puts his chin over his shoulder.
“Thank you for having us, you’ve been lovely,” Harry says though
Louis barely hears him, fully focused on the press of Harry’s body
against his.
“Stop it,” Louis says, shaking his shoulders to get Harry off of him.
It’s not that he wants to but they really do need to exit the building.
Their waiter doesn’t seem very impressed by their antics.
“Honestly, best food we’ve had in Arizona,” Harry says. He sounds
so heartfelt Louis bursts out laughing - only Harry can make it
sound like he’s trying to confess his love to the stranger in front of
them.

“Come on,” Louis says, pulling his arm gently. “We gotta go.”
“I’m having a conversation,” Harry says with a gesture toward the
impassive waiter. If Louis could stop laughing, he imagines that
would be helpful.
“Baby, come on,” he says over his laughter and that finally gets
Harry to move, though slowly, toward the door. He starts blowing
kisses at the waiter and Louis nearly trips over a table he swears
moved into his path but they get their eventually.
It’s dark and empty outside, the nightlife in Holbrook not exactly
lively. The streetlights leave pools of light in the walkway like
puddles. Louis picks a random direction to start walking in,
knowing they need to find a hotel because neither one of them is
near sober enough to get out of town tonight.

“I like that,” Harry calls after him.

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“Like what?” Louis asks, spinning around to face Harry and
walking a couple of steps backward.
“When you call me baby,” he says with a wide grin, the tequila
making him braver than Louis has seen him.
“Yeah?” Louis stops dead and reaches for Harry, pulling him in
close. Their breath mixes together and smells like berries and liquor
and then they’re kissing, harder than is acceptable on a street
corner, hands gripping like they’re about to slip away. Baby, baby,
baby runs in a cycle in Louis’s brain but stops hard as he pulls back.
Not my baby.
“We shouldn’t,” he says, pulling back. He takes a step away and his
hand slides down Harry’s arm tangling their fingers briefly and then
separating.
“Why shouldn’t we?” Harry asks, skipping to close the distance
between them and walking along Louis’s side.
Louis’s mind is flooded with tequila and no straight answers.
They’re not supposed to talk about it, that’s the agreement. “I don’t
know, baby.”

“You did it again,” Harry points out, grinning.

“Not on purpose.” There’s just something about Harry that makes
sweet things slip from his lips. Especially where margaritas are
involved.
“Whatever you say,” Harry sings, laughing over his words. “Oh my
god.”
Louis stops at Harry’s declaration, eyes darting around for a threat
of some sort that has made Harry gasp.

“Is this a dream?”

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He finally points to what it is he’s seen - the Wigwam Motel in neon
lights and surrounded by thirty giant free standing rooms shaped
like teepees equipped with porch lights and doors. It looks like a
dollhouse come to life.
“We’re staying here,” Harry says excitedly and then he’s darting
across the road, barely looking for cars, which gives Louis the heart
attack he doesn’t need at twenty-three.
Harry is already in the main office when Louis crosses the street
safely, elbows perched on the counter and chatting with the woman
behind the desk. Louis hears him complimenting her long black
braids and telling her about how he wants to grow his hair out too.
“Anyway,” he says with a glance over his shoulder. “Do you have
any vacancies?”
“For you boys?” She says with a smile. “I hope so. You seem quite
fun.”

“We are,” Harry says with a smile and Louis tries to match it.

“One bed or two?” She asks as she clicks around on the computer.
Louis freezes as Harry looks over his shoulder at him. They hold
each other’s eyes silently and while Louis knows they shouldn’t
sleep together again, not when they’re so messy about it in the
daylight, his heart screams one, one, one.
“Two, please,” Harry says, turning back. It sends Louis’s tequila
high spiraling down quickly.
Despite Harry’s initial excitement about the motel layout, they’re
quiet on the walk to their unit, no longer joking and laughing the
way they were on the other side of the street. The teepee room is the

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coolest they’ve stayed in and they admire it from the outside before
exploring inside.
Considering they didn’t get their bags before they got drunk, they
wash their faces with scratchy wash cloths at the sink and gulp
water from the faucet to hopefully mend their hangovers before
they can really begin. They should shower after being in the
unnamed lake earlier but Louis’s limbs are too heavy to do so and
Harry is barely standing upright, his eyes closing longer and longer
as they dry off their faces.
Louis leads Harry by the hips to his bed and then pulls the covers
down as Harry takes off his clothes and kicks off his shoes. Louis
takes off his own clothes quietly, turning out the light and getting in
his bed across from Harry.

“I’m sorry,” Harry says into the darkness, voice low.

“For what?” Louis asks, throat dry. He’s tired and drunk and a bit
heartbroken for a boy who was never supposed to have any part of
his heart in the first place.

“I don’t know,” Harry says and he sounds sad about it.

“Don’t be sorry,” Louis says, his eyes closing heavily. “Everything
is fine.”
Harry doesn’t say anything else and as Louis falls into a fitful sleep,
he hopes his last words are the truth.

319
 Day 11 & 12

DAY ELEVEN

Holbrook, Arizona
Louis wakes up slowly in another hotel room that takes him a
moment to place, another city he’s slow to recognize. It’s like being
a rock star on tour except all of the hotel rooms and mishmash of
cities are actually quite damaging to his bank account. Not that he’s
actually checked. He just knows.
He points his toes to stretch his calves and rolls onto his side to face
Harry. No one is as surprised as him to find Harry already looking
at him, bleary green eyes slowly blinking at him from across the
three feet divide. The covers are pulled up around Harry’s ears and
it makes him look more like an angel on a cloud than a guy with a
hangover.

Louis is really thankful his thoughts are not broadcast out loud.

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“Good morning,” Harry says, slow and measured as always.
“Morning, H.” Louis’s voice is scratchy from sleep as he rubs at his
tired eyes.

“We had a lot of tequila last night.”

Louis drops his hands and laughs, scooting deeper into his
own cloud of covers. “A lot of tequila. A lot of tacos.” “A lot
of guacamole,” Harry adds with a smile.

“Solid night,” Louis says.

“Are we staying in a hotel shaped like a teepee or did I make that
up?”
Louis laughs again, his eyes closing with it. “No, that’s real.” He
licks his lips and wonders if Harry remembers the rest of their
night, the details Louis can’t stop replaying. The way Harry said he
likes when Louis calls him baby, the way Harry hugged him like a
fucking koala when they were leaving Romo’s, the look they shared
when he asked for two beds.
“Thank god,” Harry says. “I need to get a picture before we go.” He
scrunches his lips, “Did I lose my camera?”
Louis’s eyes go wide. He definitely doesn’t remember the last
time he saw Harry’s camera – not after the life size dinosaurs at
the notso-stellar rock shop. “We must have left it at the restaurant.
We’ll go there first thing this morning.”

Harry nods, “I’ve never left it anywhere before.”

Louis swallows, “Yeah, well, we were pretty drunk.”

“I’m not hungover,” Harry says after a pause. “Why am I not
hungover?”

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Louis has a slight headache but nothing that serious though his
mouth is slightly dry. “Must have been magic tequila.”
Harry grins and then sits up quickly. His bare skin is always a
welcome sight in Louis’s book even as Harry covers his face and
groans. “Head rush,” he mumbles.
When he stretches his arms over his head, Louis stares openly at the
curve of his back and the way his stomach balloons as he yawns.
He looks away before Harry can catch him.
“I have to shower,” Harry announces as he flings off the bed covers.
“I feel disgusting.”
Louis watches him stand, the stretch of his legs and the pale skin of
his thighs as he adjusts where his boxers must have ridden up
overnight. This time Harry catches him staring. Louis clears his
throat and darts his eyes back to meet Harry’s. “Disgusting, yeah.”
Harry looks at him oddly for a moment like he’s thinking before he
starts walking toward the bathroom. “Feel free to join me,” he
tosses over his shoulder like it’s not supposed to knock the breath
out of Louis.

It definitely does.
He opens his mouth and then closes it, the moment for saying
something already passed as Harry closes the bathroom door and
then turns on the shower. Louis rolls to his back and stares at the
high peak of the ceiling, all of the wasted space just so the building
can be shaped like a teepee.

As if architecture could distract him right now. He rolls his eyes.

Harry is naked next to him. Not right next to him but probably eight
feet away and through a paper thin wall. Soon naked Harry is going

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to be wet and in the shower while Louis is laying in the filth from
the lake and thinking about that same Harry.
Feel free to join me. Harry’s voice echoes in his head as he lays
there, pointing and flexing his feet like he’s capable of turning
down a request from Harry. He considers last night an impressive
show of strength to stop kissing Harry considering kissing Harry is
the only past time he’s thought about in the last few days.
He swallows and adjusts the covers again, suddenly scratchy
against his skin. Harry said they don’t have to talk about what they
do, what they’ve done. Harry offered a free pass and Louis is the
one dragging his feet to take it. He circles his thumbs together a
moment more, telling himself he’s content to wait to use the shower
on his own, content to give up a morning spent kissing Harry. It
doesn’t really work.
He’s out of bed and speed-walking around Harry’s bed before
flinging open the bathroom door without preamble.
The bathroom is already steamy from the shower and sweet
smelling from Harry’s vanilla body wash. It’s all amplified as Harry
pulls open the creamy white shower curtain and pokes his head out,
hair still dry. He looks confused for a moment until Louis hooks his
thumbs in his boxers and then Harry smiles like a secret as he pulls
the curtain open wider.
It’s wet and fast from there, their bodies pressed together in the
tight shower, wet skin slipping as the warm water cascades over
them. Harry’s lips are plush against Louis’s mouth, his tongue
becoming an expert in the art of Louis as he holds Louis low around
his hips.
They don’t talk as they grind and gasp against each other,
fingernails digging in, blood rushing to the surface. Harry is loud

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and Louis loves it, the cut off moans and lower groans when Louis
gets his hand on his cock, pulling him to full hardness with a firm
grip. Harry grapples for Louis with his own hand, his face pressed
against Louis’s neck, biting and then licking the skin.
Harry gasps against Louis’s mouth when Louis thumbs over his tip
and then tightens his hand, a circuit that seems to be exactly what
Harry needs.
“Oh my god,” he chants on repeat, his neck bared and head dropped
back. Louis bites the pale column of his muscle because he can and
then sucks on the edge of his jaw as he works Harry up over the
curve of his orgasm. He can’t see when Harry comes, the water and
close proximity blurring his vision but he feels the muscles of
Harry’s body tighten, the choked off gasp and twitch of his cock as
warm wetness splatters up Louis’s stomach. Louis works him
through the aftershocks even as Harry finds his mouth to kiss him
again, using his thigh to create friction against Louis’s crotch.
It doesn’t take long at all for Harry to get him off after that, not
when he adds the tight grip of his hand and bites on Louis’s earlobe,
whispers, “Come for me, Lou,” right up against his ear. Louis loses
it in a silent gasp and a full body tremble as Harry holds him
through it.
He swears his ears ring as he floats back down, grounded to Harry’s
lips and the rushing water, his mouth bruised from kissing, his
stomach warm from his orgasm. They trade lazy kisses as they
wash their hair and take turns under the spray, casually discussing
whether vanilla shower gel is overrated. Louis could get used to
waking up like this. As soon as the thought comes he swats it down,
kissing Harry a bit harder to get his mind to focus on something
else not nearly as dangerous.

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 *

“Look, the lovers are back.”

Louis and Harry both look over at the same time as they walk into
Romo’s. Their waiter from last night seems in a happier mood as he
smirks at the two of them from his perch on top of the bar.
“We’re back,” Louis says, not bothering to correct him. Harry has a
bruise on his jaw from Louis’s mouth so, for the moment, maybe
the waiter isn’t wrong.
Louis stays near the door as Harry goes to ask about his camera, his
day old clothes feeling uncomfortable against his clean skin. He’s
looking forward to finding the car and fresh underwear, honestly.
It’s not a lot to ask.
Harry comes back with the camera less than a moment later,
holding it up like a trophy. He kisses the side of it and promises to
never lose her again; Louis rolls his eyes.
Sober, and in the daylight, finding the car isn’t as difficult as it
seemed the night before. They do make a stop at a bakery where
Louis makes fun of Harry’s inability to choose a scone as the girl
behind the counter swoons over him and offers both of their orders
at no charge. Harry’s smile is frozen in disbelief as Louis pays for
both of their pastries and coffees and pushes Harry back out the
door. He still can’t process how Harry doesn’t know how charming
he is.
They both change quickly outside of the Jeep before getting in with
the map tuned to the next destination. Harry drives so they listen to
Fleetwood Mac as they cruise down the main strip of Holbrook and
out of town, warm coffee and perfect scones in their laps. It’s

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another town Louis probably won’t visit again but where traces of
him and Harry will linger like glitter in the air.

*
“It’s a fake hike?” Louis repeats Harry’s words back to him ninety
minutes further into Arizona as Harry takes an exit off the highway.

“Yeah,” Harry says like it’s not confusing.

“Explain, please.”
“Instead of hiking, you drive. It’s like thirty miles through the
whole thing.”

Louis sighs, “Babe, that’s a scenic drive not a fake hike.”

Babe. Louis hears it again in the quiet that lingers. He doesn’t do it
on purpose, he doesn’t even think about it now but still, it slips. He
presses his lips together, determined not to show his hesitation.
“Okay,” Harry says finally, staring straight ahead. “We’re not going
fake hiking at Sunset Crater, we’re going on a scenic drive.”
“Thank you,” Louis says with a smirk. “I appreciate the
clarification.” This time Harry is the one who rolls his eyes.
“I have another question,” Louis says as they pass the entrance sign
to the top of the trail at the Ponderosa Pine forest. There’s one car in
front of them going quickly down the winding path even though the
speed says twenty miles per hour.
“Of course you do,” Harry says with a sweet smile tacked on the
end.
“Why are we stopping here instead of going straight to the Grand
Canyon?”

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Harry shrugs. “How will you appreciate the enormity of the Grand
Canyon if you haven’t seen the smaller stuff first?”
Louis pulls his eyebrows together and turns toward Harry. “Does
anyone not appreciate the enormity of the Grand Canyon on its
own?”
Harry glances around with his nose up like he hasn’t heard Louis at
all. “Anyway,” he says loudly,
“Welcome to the Sunset Crater.”
The path curves mostly down for the second ninety minute leg of
their trip, swirling through forests and into the red rocks of the
canyon eventually. For the first part, Harry pulls off to the road
every five minutes to take photos until Louis offers to drive and
Harry can hang out the window like the wildlife paparazzi. Louis
spends more time laughing about it than he should but he can’t help
but be hopelessly endeared by Harry. Not anymore, at least.
They buy water and Skittles at the halfway mark before the drive
continues. Louis goes slowly so Harry can get all the photos he
needs and sometimes puts the car in reverse to make Harry laugh.
Making Harry laugh has become one of his favorite things, though
he tries not to think about it too much.
Another thing he tries not to think about is the blooming mark on
Harry’s jaw from his mouth. He had known he was mouthing
aggressively along Harry’s jawline in the shower but he didn’t
realize the lasting mark he would leave. It fills him with a weird
sense of possessiveness whenever he looks at Harry – to see the
way this morning has been left behind even if they aren’t going to
acknowledge it outright. He knows the skin will fade back to
normal, sooner rather than later, but it doesn’t stop him from being

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secretly pleased; especially not when he catches Harry pressing on
the mark when he doesn’t think Louis is watching.

*
They stop at a diner on the way to the Grand Canyon - one with the
usual overhaul on signage and fading paint on the exterior. They
order burgers and sit in the back, share a plate of nachos as an
appetizer they really don't need. Louis dares Harry to eat three
jalapenos in a row and then laughs at Harry’s offended face when
it’s spicier than he anticipates. He starts to feel bad when tears are
streaming down Harry’s face from the heat and pulls a wad of
napkins from the dispenser on their table for him. Harry flips him
off with both hands.
Louis is getting used to it now, eleven days in. Used to sharing
everything with Harry - every meal, every morning and night,
almost every other moment throughout the day. He doesn't know
how things will change when they get to their destination, when
they get back to a place where they share these same things with
different people. Each moment with Harry is another step toward
reaching California and the end of their adventure. The thought of
an end swoops in his stomach but he ignores it for the moment; he
doesn't want to think about why.

There's a trivia game at their table and, of course, Harry picks it up

first and convinces Louis to play. He smiles when he asks the
questions and tries to keep from laughing at all of Louis's wrong
answers though he's not very good at it. Louis hates to lose so he
does put in the effort to try his best but he keeps slipping, his mind
wandering out of the diner, out of Arizona.
He keeps going back to Chicago, when he first met Harry. If he'd
told the hungover Louis in Niall’s apartment on that Saturday

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morning that he would be infatuated with the promptly on time guy
in a shirt that said 'women are smarter' with messy hair, he would
have gone back to bed and concluded it was a dream.

Instead, here he is. Hanging on Harry's words, memorizing the way

he smiles, hoping time will slow down so this won’t all be ripped
away when they get to campus - when real life reminds them of the
way it's supposed to be.

“How many muscles does your face use to kiss someone?”

Louis pulls back from his thoughts to look at Harry. “What?”

Harry waves the trivia card in his hand around a bit. “It’s on the
card.”
There’s no reason for Louis’s cheeks to heat but it happens anyway
as he fakes nonchalance. “Like twelve?” He throws out the first
number he thinks of - as if he even knows how many muscles are in
his face to begin with.

Harry smiles slowly. “Depending on the kiss, up to thirty-four.”

“Thirty-four?” Louis puts a hand to his mouth as if it will help him
count the muscle he can’t see.
“What kind of kiss uses thirty-four muscles in your face?”
Harry does something obscene with his tongue and Louis stomach
goes a bit warm. Harry laughs and the tops of his cheeks go pink so
maybe he’s felt whatever that was, too. “A French kiss, maybe,” he
says. He clears his throat and looks back at the card to go to the
next question.
“I think I’ll judge all future kisses by how many muscles are
involved,” Louis says conversationally. “I need upwards of
twentyfive for it to be a stellar kiss. Anything less in unacceptable.”

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Harry glances up and licks his bottom lip. Louis should know by
now that he’s about to say something just crossing the line of
platonic-friendship appropriate but somehow it still catches him off
guard. “Guess we’ll have to practice, then.”
He doesn’t pause for Louis’s reaction just goes to the next question
about nose hairs. Louis doesn’t really listen, mind wandering again.
Harry Styles is becoming a problem he didn’t realize he was going
to have.

*
The next hour or so on the road is complete desert. Red rocks and
faded green shrubbery, wide open skies. Louis misses the green of
home, even the transplanted green of campus. He wants to drive
them straight up to the Pacific Northwest in pursuit of something
that shows more life than a rolling tumbleweed in the distance.
He can’t even ask Harry’s permission nor his opinion about a detour
to Oregon as he dozes off and on in the passenger seat. He doesn’t
seem to ever get that comfortable as he twists around but every
once in awhile he snores softly and catches Louis’s attention. It
takes him back to the first night when he thought he was going to
strangle Harry in his sleep over all of the sounds he made. Now it
all seems subdued and easy as he drives with the Arctic Monkeys
playing quietly in the background. It feels like this is how it’s
supposed to be. The thought scares him so badly, he intentionally
swerves the Jeep to wake Harry up with a disgruntled squeak. Louis
laughs and Harry flips him off as usual. It still feels like it’s right in
all the best ways. Harry drifts off again and Louis lets him be for
once, only occasionally looking at the way his lips press together
and the way his fingers twitch even when he sleeps.

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The Grand Canyon doesn’t come out of nowhere the way Louis
expects. It goes slowly from small divots in the earth and tall red
walls to gradual deepening and lengthening and then it’s there. The
Grand Canyon in all it’s vast glory and endless echoes. Louis slows
the Jeep as he pulls into one of the lookout points with a few other
cars. He doesn’t know what Harry wants to do at the Grand Canyon
besides look at it but he’s learned it’s best to consult Harry for the
plan before going off the rails with his own. It is safe to say he
learned that lesson in a bit of a roundabout fashion.
Louis turns off the car and the sudden silence seems to be what
wakes Harry up, stretching his arms up and blinking around in the
sunlight of the afternoon. “Is this it?”
Louis actually laughs as he opens the door on his side. “Nah, babe,
this is the other giant fucking canyon in Arizona.” Harry glowers as
Louis gets out of the car. He did the ‘babe’ thing again and he’s
worried it’s becoming a habit he can’t break.
They walk up to the edge of the fence overlooking into the deep
canyon and try to take it all in. Louis feels like it's an attempt rather
than a success as his eyes melt over the deepest valleys and the
river below and then catch on the gorgeous coloring up and down
the rocks. The Grand Canyon in his mind and the Grand Canyon in
front of him seem like they exist as two separate entities. The magic
of being told something is amazing and deciding that for yourself.

"It makes me feel like I can't catch my breath," Harry says quietly.
Louis almost makes fun of him before he realizes he agrees with
him.

"You know what makes me appreciate it even more?" Louis shifts

his hips and glances at Harry. "That shitty little crater we saw a
couple of hours ago."

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"Sunset Crater wasn't shitty," Harry says, actually sounding
offended for the fucking crater.

Louis shrugs, "It's no Grand Canyon, that's for sure." Harry looks
away as he smirks.

"What's the plan, H?" Louis asks after a few moments of quiet
observation. Harry doesn't even have his camera out yet so Louis
knows there's more to the Grand Canyon adventure.

"I was planning to hike," Harry starts - he holds up his hand when
Louis groans. "I was planning to hike when I was alone. But a
couple mornings ago I was doing some more research about things
to do while you were in the shower."
"Oh no," Louis says, voice flat. "What did you find?"

Harry presses his lips together and looks away. Louis waits for him
and it doesn't take long before Harry meets his eyes again. "There's
a restaurant where there aren't any tables or anything and you
basically get seated on a picnic blanket overlooking the canyon.
They serve you out there too. It seemed cool and," he licks his
bottom lip, "I thought it would be nice to go at sunset."

Louis doesn't do a great job at keeping his surprise minimal, his

eyebrows lifting and lips parting without his permission. It sounds
romantic as all hell, really. The fact Harry looked it up and wants to
go with him is more shocking than the premise of the restaurant at
all. Harry definitely doesn't read that on Louis's face because his
smile drops off his mouth.

"Forget it," Harry says dismissively, eyes tracing back over the
canyon. "It's stupid."

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"It's not," Louis says, swallowing. "I think that sounds awesome,
actually."

Harry doesn't look over but Louis studies the line of his jaw and the
way he seems to be clenching his back molars together.
It's just - Louis can't even phrase it correctly in his own head. Harry
came up with something that is romantic, something he put thought
in to, and then he was brave enough to ask Louis to come with him.
Even when he knew Louis was sure to have a sarcastic comment
and a joke.
Louis would never lose his sense of humor but Harry makes him
want to soften the edges, he makes him want to say things he
actually means for once in his life and that is scarier than it should
be.
"Hey," Louis says, quietly and just for them. "Hey." He repeats
himself and reaches for Harry's hand, brushing their fingers
together lightly. "I mean that I would be happy to go there," he says.
Harry looks over slowly and Louis almost swallows the words
before he stops himself. "Go there with you."

They hold each other's eyes in lingering silence, the canyon and
tourists melting away so only they exist, here in this moment. Louis
wants to kiss Harry for no reason at all and right when he starts to
lean, Harry pulls away and clears his throat.

Noise floods in rapidly, the echo of the canyon and tourists a sudden
cacophony of sound as Louis takes a step back from Harry as well.
"What do we do until dinner?" Louis asks, checking his phone.
There are only a couple hours until the sun will probably start to set
and he's sure Harry would like to be on time. It's not enough time to

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do much but, again, Louis doubts Harry wants to sit around
twiddling his thumbs while they wait.

"I don't know," Harry says, scrunching his lips.

"Let’s go on a little hike," Louis says. This time the surprise is on

Harry's face instead of his. "I was listening when you said that was
your original plan," he says. "Shocking, I know."

Harry smiles and it's small but Louis doesn't even care because
his eyes are shining and his dimple curves in. That dimple might
kill Louis before the road trip is even over. "That sounds good,"
Harry says finally, smiling over his words. It has Louis feeling
like he's offered up something a lot bigger than a hike. *

They don't go on a very long hike at all just up through one of the
lower valleys to a different look out point. Louis watches wearily as
Harry climbs on rocks to get different angles for his photos and
pulls him backward by the hem of shirt when it seems like he's a bit
too close to the edge.

"Sorry," he mutters when Harry jolts at Louis's tug. "You're freaking

me out." Harry's half smile makes Louis's heart beat a bit harder
and maybe that freaks him out too.

The late afternoon sun beats on them as they climb up the small
hills and they're both sweaty and flushed when they stand at the top
of the trail and admire the view. It feels endless where they are, not
even all the way up on the edge. The water swirls through the
middle like a blue serpent, silent and unmoving though Louis
knows that's not true if they were to get closer.

"I'm sweating," Harry announces needlessly, pulling his shirt up off

his stomach and wiping off his face. He's got a v-line that haunts

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Louis's day dreams but Louis only spares a quick glance before
looking away.

"No shit," he says as he lifts the collar of his shirt and wipes his
own face on the inside. "I feel like we're not going to be allowed in
the restaurant you chose. We probably smell like old cheese."

Harry wrinkles his nose and it makes Louis laugh. "I think it's fine
and I doubt we smell like cheese."

"Speak for yourself," Louis says lowly.

"We could get a hotel and shower," Harry suggests.

"That sounds like an expensive shower, babe."

Even with the babe, Harry rolls his eyes. "I mean it'll be the same
hotel we stay in tonight. We can just check in early."
"Right," Louis says, "I knew that." Harry doesn't always have the
best ideas according to Louis but this may be one. "Know of any
hotels looking for two boys who smell like cheese?"

Harry doesn't even acknowledge him as he heads back down the

path to where they've parked the car.

*
Bright Angel Lodge is just up the road from where they finish their
hike and it looks fitting for the Grand Canyon with it's stacked log
exterior and heavily forested themed interior design. There's a
stuffed bear as tall as the ceiling that actually makes Harry trip over
his feet when he sees it. Louis laughs but he's just as startled. He
hopes the stuffed animals are only regulated to the lobby and not
the individual rooms.

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Harry walks up to the front desk with a smile, Louis two steps
behind. "We'd like a room, please," he says once he's asked about
the concierge's day and her week and complimented her earrings.
Honestly, how he isn't famous for being charming beyond all
measure is beyond Louis.

"Sure," she says sweetly, her long nails clicking on the keyboard.
"We have a few options. A double or a King. Which do you prefer?"
She smiles back and forth between them though the edges of her
mouth turn down as the silence lapses on.

Harry isn't speaking, isn't even looking at Louis. He's tapping his
credit card on the edge of the counter and staring at it like it's going
to answer for them. Louis tries to get Harry to look at him
telepathically but it doesn't work. So he coughs into his fist and
bites the bullet with as charming of a smile as he can muster, "We'll
take the King room, thanks so much."
Harry smiles as he hands over the credit card and Louis's lungs are
fighting for breath like he's just run a marathon.

The woman explains how to get to their room and this time Harry is
the one listening and nodding along while Louis stares at his shoes.
There are few things he wants more than to share a bed with Harry,
to take the questions off the table for once, but he's still hesitant
about it. Worried he's overstepped a boundary they aren't
discussing.

They're both quiet as they walk to the elevator and Louis's gut
twists. He doesn't want to ruin the night, not when Harry has it all
planned out. As romantic as it all sounds. That's the thing - Harry
planned a romantic evening for the two of them. Deciding to get a
room with one bed doesn't seem so far off the mark; Harry still has
a bruise on his jaw from Louis's mouth for god’s sake.

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Still.

Louis can't help the uneasiness in his stomach as they step into the
elevator, the doors slipping closed and sealing them in silence.
Louis starts babbling as soon as the car starts moving up.

"I'm sorry for assuming on the room," he says. "I understand if you
don't want to share a bed and I'm sure there will be a couch that I
can sleep on -"
"Louis," Harry cuts him off firmly. "Shut up. I want to share a bed
with you."

Louis swallows and looks up from where his fingers are twisting in
his backpack strap. "Yeah?"

Harry nods and his cheeks go the most lovely shade of pink. "It's all
I've been thinking about since I turned down the opportunity last
night."
Louis opens and closes his mouth but no words come out. Harry
confuses the shit out of him on a regular basis - like not kissing him
at the Grand Canyon - and then he comes out with shit like this, so
clear and straightforward it makes butterflies take flight in Louis's
stomach. He's not a guy who does butterflies.

It's not made any better by the fact Harry takes the next moment to
kiss Louis, soft lips and warm breath gone before anything can truly
start as the elevator doors slip open on their floor. Louis swallows
drily and Harry winks at him. It feels like a promise.

The forestry theme doesn't end in the lobby the way Louis had
hoped. In fact, there is a large fish hanging over their king size bed

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and the curtains on the windows are all covered in different kinds of
leaves.

"It's in the bathroom too." Harry's announcement is muffled through

the walls but Louis hears him all the same. He's too busy staring at
the giant fucking fish to do anything about it.

"The toothbrush holders are fish with their mouths open," Harry
says, reappearing in the room with wide eyes. "They deep throat
your toothbrush essentially."

Louis swivels over to face him and laughs loudly, covering his
mouth with his hand. "This is fucking ridiculous," he says over his
smile. So much for a night of romance.

"That fish is coming down before I get near the bed," Harry says,
pointing. "I will not have that thing watching me."

"It's like a guardian angel but a fish," Louis says, narrowing his
eyes.
"Absolutely not," Harry says before grabbing his bag and
disappearing into the bathroom to shower.

Louis takes his time getting ready once he showers. He finds a pair
of jeans in the bottom of his bag and tugs them out flat on the bed
to get rid of the wrinkles. Then, he upturns the rest of his bag
completely looking for a shirt that isn't a tank top. Something about
the night feels like he should take the time to put an outfit together
instead of throwing something on and diving headfirst into the car
on the way to their next destination. It feels like a night to go slow,

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to savor. There may not be a future where he gets Harry on a
romantic date night in the middle of a canyon.
Finally, he settles on a white tee with a jean shirt he leaves
unbuttoned over top of it and rubs his hands through his hair to get
it to start drying a bit. He doesn't pay much attention as Harry flits
in between the bathroom and the room, though he has to smile
when he hears the hair dryer turn on briefly. Harry must sense
something different about tonight too.
Louis is texting his sisters when Harry emerges from the bathroom
in a soft cloud of cologne and he snaps to attention.

His back is to Louis as he turns out the light so Louis takes his time
looking at his black jeans, all the ways they hug his legs down to
his black boots with golden buckles on the toes as he turns around.
Louis drags his eyes up from the shoes, pausing over Harry's thighs
again because he’s only human. Harry’s shirt is a light blue button
up with the short sleeves rolled once and only buttoned halfway up
his chest. He's smirking by the time Louis's gaze makes it to his
eyes but Louis isn't embarrassed. If anything, he's struck by the way
Harry's eyes stand out with the blue of the shirt, like they were
made to be paired together. He forgets to chastise himself for being
a sap.

"Ready?" Harry asks, his smirk shifting to more of a smile.

Louis's mouth is too dry to say much but he nods and grabs the
room key from the side table, flipping off the light to their room as
they leave. He swears the fish over the bed watches them go.

*
The sun has barely started to sink by the time they make it to the
restaurant. There’s a darker shadow over the valley of the canyon

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and the heat has started to dissipate into a more comfortable haze.
Based on Harry’s earlier description, Louis had the idea the place
would be more romantic than the diners they’ve frequented on the
road but as the host leads them to their picnic blanket, he wasn’t
sure this is what he expected.
There are different paths leading to different areas of the dining
area, each path lit with lanterns on curved poles that will illuminate
the way once the sun goes down. The picnic blankets are large and
thick, an entire garden of flowers planted on one side of every plot.
Louis thinks this is the kind of place people propose marriage to
each other but he doesn’t say that out loud.
They both laugh quietly as they sit down on their assigned picnic
blanket, the host pointing them to the bottle of wine in the basket at
the edge of the blanket before depositing two menus and quietly
leaving.
“This is the ideal picnic,” Harry says, stretching his legs in front of
him and leaning back on his hands to face the canyon. “None of the
work but all of the good stuff.”
Louis smiles and mirrors Harry’s position. The way the blankets are
all spaced, it’s easy to forget they’re not alone on the edge of the
canyon overlooking something more special than can be articulated
as colors and shadows begin to dance over the rocks, casting
rainbows along the water below.
They sit in silence for a moment, taking it in, before Louis crawls
over to the basket for the bottle of wine and two stemless glasses.
There isn’t a hard surface to set the glasses on so he settles for
Harry’s hands as he fills each glass just over halfway and then has
to knee-walk back to the picnic basket to put the bottle back.

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“That was smooth,” Harry comments as Louis nearly falls on his
face in the process.
“Really?” Louis asks, smiling. “Are you enchanted by my charms?”
He’s kidding but Harry’s flicker of raised eyebrows and then smile
sends the butterflies in his stomach in a flurry. He’s not a huge fan
of the butterflies.
Harry hands over Louis’s glass without saying anything more and
they set about looking over the menu of small bites, a welcome
change from every grease-laden meal they’ve eaten so far. They end
up ordering a cheese plate with a charcuterie tray that claims it can
serve four along with a smaller tray of veggies and handmade
crackers Harry gets particularly excited about.
They watch the sunset as they wait for their food, the slow ease of it
turning the sky pink and orange before it dips beyond the horizon
line. As far as sunsets go, Louis thinks this one is more beautiful
than the rest but that may be because of Harry’s tiny awes of
wonder and the way he points at certain colors in the sky he wants
Louis to notice.
It’s not easy to ignore how comfortable Louis feels with Harry like
this - even in a setting screaming out for committed couples and not
friends who kiss and touch each other in the dark. Talking with
Harry is so simple, teasing Harry is a quiet joy and listening to
Harry is one of Louis’s new favorite things. He adores the way he
talks, the syrup in his voice that, a week ago, made him want to
yell, “Spit it out,” and now makes him smile as Harry takes his
sweet ass time through a story about his first kiss at sunset when he
was thirteen.
“Wait, she bit you?” Louis focuses in on what Harry is actually
saying rather than the sweet tone of his voice.

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Harry smiles slowly and shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah. She was like,
two years older and didn’t realize it was my first kiss.”
Louis shakes his head as Harry takes a sip of wine. “What am I
missing? Why was it okay for her to bite you? That sounds fucking
rude.”
Harry laughs and covers his mouth as he swallows his wine. “It
wasn’t like a bite on my nose or something. She bit my lip like, to
be sexy.”
“Oh,” Louis says loudly, finally getting it. “I thought she was like
cannibalizing your face.”

Harry stares at him with dead eyes. “What goes on in your mind?”
“You don’t want to know,” Louis says just as seriously. Harry ruins
the moment with his big smile but Louis doesn’t mind.
Their food comes on a sturdy wooden tray they set between them
and Harry refills their wine as they eat with their fingers and chat
quietly. With the sun gone there’s more of a chill to the air but it’s
comfortable in the grey light of the fading sky and the lantern light
dotted around them.
It doesn’t seem like their conversation follows any straight path as
they talk about their favorite bars near campus and loop around to
their favorite foods growing up - how Harry’s mom was shocked by
his love of broccoli and his sister hated him for suggesting they
have it at every meal. “Got sick of it after a while,” Harry says over
his smile. “Haven’t eaten it in years now.”

Louis picks up a piece of broccoli from their vegetable plate and

waves it around lazily. “Are you tempted?”

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Harry scrunches his nose and leans back slightly. “Not in the least.”
Louis matches Harry’s lean with one of his own, putting the
vegetable right up in Harry’s face and brushing his lips with it.
“Eat it,” Louis says as Harry shakes his head, his eyes crossing as
he tries to keep an eye on Louis’s hand. “Put it in your mouth.”
Louis laughs over his words as he tries to keep a serious face and
taps Harry’s mouth with it
He gasps when Harry reaches for the floret and chucks it out into
the canyon with the force of someone who has definitely thrown a
vegetable across a room before. “Whoops,” he says quietly, lips
pressing together in surprise as he looks at Louis. They’re closer
than they’ve been all night, barely a breath between them from
Louis trying to force the broccoli down Harry’s throat.
Louis laughs lightly but doesn’t quite pull away. His eyes brush up
and down Harry’s face and then he kisses him softly, one hand
sliding under his chin to guide his lips open once in a quiet sigh
before they separate and Louis goes back to his side of the blanket.
He knows he’s walking himself down a dangerous path, kissing
Harry like this. He can feel his feet start to slip into something close
to a freefall but he can’t stop.
They linger once their food is gone, only traces of the worst tasting
meats and cheese leftover. They put in good work on the vegetables
but there’s only one piece of broccoli missing, buried deep in the
Grand Canyon and, probably, never to be found.
As it gets darker, Louis starts to get braver, building up the courage
to ask questions lingering in the back of his throat. He knows so
much about Harry but he’s always craving more - more detail, more
insight into everything that’s made him the way he is. Part of it is
studying in a field built to poke around and ask questions, part of it

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is the annoying butterflies in his belly that keep nudging the
bottoms of his lungs.
“I have a question,” Louis starts. He swallows and turns toward
Harry, one leg straight and the other bent as he takes a sip from his
wine glass. They’re on their second bottle and, though Louis is no
expert, the Pinot Noir from the Willamette Valley seems to only be
getting better throughout the night.

“You may approach the bench,” Harry drawls seriously.

“That’s not how that works but, thanks.”

“I need to brush up on my judge-lingo?” Harry’s eyebrow curves up
as he smiles. “Noted.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Louis says shaking his head. “I don’t have a
question anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” Harry says firmly. “Ask it.”

Louis licks his lip and feels like a fool for wondering but asks
anyway. “After Matt, was there -” he swallows, “Has there been
anyone else?”

Harry tilts his head just slightly. “Anyone else what?”

Louis lifts his chin a bit higher, too late to back down now. “Have
you dated anyone?”
“Oh.” Surprise lights Harry’s voice but he doesn’t turn away. “I
have.”
There’s not much to go off from a two-word answer and though
Louis pokes, he never wants to pry. He nods into the silence,
waiting - hoping - for there to be more.

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“Nothing serious,” Harry says eventually once Louis has started to
stare into his pinot like it’s going to hold an answer instead.
Louis glances up but Harry is staring out over the canyon. It feels
safe sitting up on the edge, like they are so small and
inconsequential, anything they say will just float to the bottom and
be brushed away by the river.
“I don’t think I’m really ready for anything serious again,” he says
after a beat passes.
Louis swallows and nods, tongue running along his teeth. He tells
himself he’s getting to know Harry, not depending on his answers.
It’s not like they’re dating - or that Louis himself is even looking
for something more for Harry and himself. He likes unattached, he
does it well. He takes too big of a drink of wine and pretends he’s
not lying.
“Got it,” Louis says once he swallows and finds his voice again.
“And they get that? The other people you date?”
If Harry is freaked out by Louis’s line of questioning he doesn’t let
on. “I don’t go into it with the outlook things won’t work out,”
Harry says. “I’m just not surprised when I’m the one who backs
away after we hang out a couple of times or whatever. I guess I can
tell when things won’t work out so I don’t put myself through it.”
“Bit pessimistic?”

Harry huffs out a quiet laugh. “Realistic,” he says. “Scared.”

Scared makes Louis’s heart clench slightly before it resumes its
regular programming. Harry is scared to make the leap with the
chance he’ll fall so he stays standing still. For a guy who has
charmed his way in and out of each of Louis’s ribs so much they

345
feel tied together, he can’t help but feel the edge of sadness curling
over Harry’s words.

“Do you?” Harry asks when Louis stays quiet. “Do you date?”
Louis bites his lip over a smile and looks the opposite direction of
Harry’s curious face. He should have known this question was
coming and he walked himself into it anyway. Now he has to
explain to a boy begging for people to be gentle with his heart, that
Louis tends to be brash when it comes to romance, gun shy to
commitment.
“I don’t think it’s called dating,” he finally settles on. “I tend to get
involved with people who aren’t looking for more than what I’m
looking for.” It always gets messy when one person is too attached;
he doesn’t want to say that to Harry of all people. Louis closes his
eyes for a moment and then empties his wine glass just for
something to do. He wonders if what Louis has just said is making
Harry think of Matt.
“You can call it hooking up,” Harry says. Louis doesn’t trace hurt in
his voice. “I’m not like, a blushing virgin, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” Louis says just about as innuendo-laden as he can
imagine and it makes Harry laugh, cracking open any lingering
tension.
“It’s not like I stopped believing there’s someone out there for me,”
Louis says. “I do feel like I’m biding my time waiting for them,
though.”

“And it’s fine to have fun in the meantime?”

“Exactly,” Louis says with a nod. “I don’t trick anyone into thinking
I have more to offer than I do. When I find a person who I want to
give what I have, they’ll know.”

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“Because you’ll tell them,” Harry leads, smirking. It’s what they
talked about at the lake in New Mexico when Louis though Harry
would drown him if he didn’t promise to be straightforward with
people.
“Yes, Harry,” Louis goes for patronizing and lands it; Harry rolls
his eyes with a smirk.
Louis feels like he’s taken the rather pleasant track of the night and
pushed it over a dark edge. He clears his throat and attempts to fix
it. “Ideal world, what makes you fall in love again?” He points at
Harry, “Ready, go.”

“The right person, yeah?” Harry scrunches his lips, “Too cliché?”
“For you, yes,” Louis says. “You might push the right person away
because you get scared and then you lose them.”
“Wow, an insult and a threat,” Harry says with wide eyes. “You’re
on a roll.”
Louis watches Harry’s gaze drop to the blanket and he feels like a
jerk. He traces two fingers along the back of Harry’s hand until he
looks up. “I wasn’t saying that to be mean,” he says earnestly. “I
really do want to know what it will take for you not to be scared to
fall in love.” He keeps his voice quiet and light but somehow when
they hold each other’s eyes as he speaks, it seems like far more than
a question between friends.
“I don’t know,” Harry says. “I really don’t.”
Louis can’t tell if he’s lying or truly unsure but decides not to press,
not anymore tonight at least. “Maybe you’ll know,” Louis says.
“It’ll hit you like lightning in a goddamn Lightning Field and you’ll
know.”

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Harry smiles and his shoulders curve forward as he tries not to
laugh. “Yeah, maybe.”
Louis waits for Harry to ask him the same question but it doesn’t
come. Instead, it stays soft lit and quiet as Harry finishes his wine
and sets the empty glass on the tray.
“If this was a date,” he says slowly, “I’d say it’s one of the most
romantic dates I’ve ever been on.”
Harry’s statement comes out of nowhere and Louis can’t help his
surprise. He realizes his hand is still touching the back of Harry’s
and he leaves it where it is. “If this were a date,” he says just as
slowly as Harry did, “I would say it’s been one of my favorites.”
Harry’s smile is soft in the dark and Louis feels like there’s a
sparkler behind his ribs. He wants this to be a date so fucking badly
he almost can’t take it. There’s nothing he can do about it, though.
As with most things, wanting badly isn’t always good enough.
Especially not when they just had a conversation to underline their
dating history and dot question marks over what exactly they’re
doing with each other now. Louis doesn’t date, if he does, he leaves
first. Harry doesn’t want to be left so he bites his tongue over his
feelings. It all seems so compact in an ugly box with a haphazard
bow.
“It’s hard to beat the Grand Canyon,” Harry says, pulling him back.
“I didn’t think it would be romantic at face value.”
“Just a big hunk of rocks,” Louis agrees. “Then you add some
sunset and some wine and you’ve got yourself romance.”
Harry opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, eyes
dropping to Louis’s lips before he shakes his head minutely and lets
the quiet fall.

348
They order a piece of chocolate cake for dessert and share it
between them, playing their usual sword game with their forks and
telling stories about odd dates they’ve been on in the past. Louis
gets to tell the story of the boy who propositioned him with a
threesome on their first date and Harry laughs his way through a
story about making out in some girl’s Honda Civic when he was
sixteen and getting caught by her father.
When it seems they’re the last ones left at the restaurant -
something that is becoming a staple for them - they get up to leave,
stretching out their legs and finding themselves on the comfortable
side of tipsy. They follow the lanterns back the way they came,
thanking the staff and then pausing for Harry to take a few photos
with his phone since his camera is back in the room.
Their feet scuff the gravel as they make their way back to the lodge
and Louis reaches for Harry’s hand without really considering,
letting their fingers twist together in the easiest way. Harry squeezes
his hand without looking and Louis smiles as he looks out into the
darkness.
This is where their relationship exists the most, Louis thinks. When
the sun disappears and they are the only ones on the streets; they
don’t hesitate to touch and pull each other close. All of the
questions and weird thoughts don’t exist in the darkness. Here,
anything they want belongs without question.
The lobby of the Bright Angel Lodge is empty when they arrive, the
lights dim but the giant stuffed bear still there, in all its glory. Louis
pushes Harry with a hand on his chest to stand in front of the bear
for a picture, something they both giggle about far longer than is
actually necessary.

349
They hold hands as they get in the elevator, quiet engulfing them as
the doors slide shut. Louis leans against the back wall and studies
Harry’s hand in his, fingers tracing the tattoos and a scar near his
knuckle.
He wants to know each and every one of the scars and freckles on
Harry’s body. He wants to be the only one who knows how to
follow the roadmap of Harry’s skin and he feels irrationally jealous
someone probably already has done that. He bites his tongue over
saying anything out loud, more than sure it would send Harry
running for the hills. He’s getting good at this, pressing his feelings
down into his gut.
The elevator makes a quiet noise to announce their arrival and they
step out slowly, Harry already pulling Louis gently in the direction
of their room. Louis digs his heels in and stops him. Harry turns
around, confused, and Louis takes advantage of the momentum,
pulling Harry into his body with a soft thud that presses them
together.

“Hi,” Harry says with a smile, his lips dark from the wine.
“Hi,” Louis says on a swallow. He lifts his finger to slowly trace the
Cupid’s Bow of Harry’s lip and Harry lets him, holding his breath
in the process. “Thank you for inviting me to your romantic
dinner.”
Harry huffs a laugh that makes Louis smiles. “Was it better than a
hike?”
“Much,” Louis whispers. “You know what the best part is?”
They’re so close together, his words dance across Harry’s lips.

“What?” Harry breathes, his eyes roaming Louis’s face.

350
“We got to save all our energy,” Louis says with a sly smile. He
punctuates it with a kiss that Harry suddenly hijacks, his hands on
Louis’s hips in a moment as he pushes Louis back against the wall
of the hallway.
The lodge fades away to nothing but Harry’s mouth on Louis’s and
their bodies pressed together. Harry presses kisses along Louis’s
jaw and down his neck, his hands roaming down Louis’s back to his
ass and dragging them closer.
"We need to get in the room," Louis manages to gasp when Harry
starts to make a mark on his neck.

"Yes," Harry says without lifting his head and Louis actually
laughs. He's already starting to get hard in his jeans with Harry's
mouth on him and he thinks their compromised position may be
frightening if any of the other guests venture into the hallway.

"Harry," he says again, pulling on Harry's hair to get him to look up.
His cheeks are already pink and his eyes are heavy with lust as he
kisses Louis again. Louis knows he's the one who started this in the
hallway but this isn't how they're going to finish. "We need to go in
the room."

Harry pulls back and nods this time, "Right. Sorry."

Louis smiles slowly, "Nothing to be sorry about. I just would prefer

if you weren't wearing clothes and that's inappropriate in a publicly
shared space, yeah?"
He cackles when Harry takes off at a sprint down the hallway, his
laughter sure to rouse a few people's curiosities. He swears he hears
the lock flip on the door nearest him and he takes off at the same
speed Harry just did, hands scrambling for the room key in his
pants.

351
 *

When their door clicks closed behind them, it's like a starting bell
goes off. Louis has Harry pressed against the wall as he kisses him,
hands wandering under his shirt and across his stomach, over his
hips and to the small of his back. Harry bites on Louis's lip and then
soothes it with his tongue, tasting like wine and moonlight.

Harry starts to direct Louis backward by the hips, their lips not
parting but for brief gasps of air, not bothering to turn on the lights.
Louis has his hands up in Harry's hair, messing it up and tangling it,
when Harry pulls back suddenly. "I can't."

Louis feels the words like a cold hit to his stomach, his eyes
opening and reality slicing back in. Louis scrambles for the right
thing to say, to tell him it's fine, to tell him it doesn't have to change
anything - but Harry isn't looking at him. Louis follows his gaze
and lands on the giant fish on the wall, laughter spluttering from his
lips.

"The fish?"

"It made my dick go soft," Harry says seriously and Louis can't
keep from laughing again.
He draws his hand from Harry's hair and drags it down his body to
his crotch, cupping him through his jeans and watching his
eyelashes flutter. "Can't have that, darling," he says, pressing a
quick kiss to Harry's cheek and then flitting away. He jumps up on
the bed with one smooth motion and tries to lift the fish off the
wall. It doesn't budge.

352
"Fucking fish," he mutters as he tries again. There's still no
movement and then Harry is on the bed next to him, gripping the
wooden mount around the edge of the fish and wiggling.

"Oh my god, they superglued him to the wall," he says with wide
eyes like it should be offensive. Louis can't stop laughing once he
starts, his knees buckling as he falls to the bed, staring up at Harry's
offended face.
"What are we going to do?" Louis hiccups between his laughter
because, honestly, this is the most ridiculous thing to ever happen in
the midst of his best effort to get laid.

Harry stares at the fish menacingly and then he jumps off the bed
and goes for the small love seat in the corner of the room. He grabs
a throw from the back, an ugly brown one, and then he's running
across the room again as Louis reclines back to watch. Harry
meticulously tucks the edges of the blanket around the fish until it,
quite terribly, looks like a blob of mud on the wall. Louis laughs to
himself at Harry's determination, the crease between his eyebrows
as he tries to cover the thing completely.

"You should be an interior designer, baby."

Harry puts his hands on his hips and looks down at Louis, smirking.
"Yeah?"

"No," Louis says incredulously. "That looks terrible."

"Hey," Harry pouts and then falls to his knees, bouncing once on
the mattress before crawling over to Louis and straddling him.

"Did I ruin your dreams?" Louis asks, his hands going to the sides
of Harry's thighs like a reflex.

353
"Yeah," Harry says loudly, "You did."

"I'm sorry," Louis says, sweetly. "Kiss me and I'll make it better."

"Don't have to ask me twice," Harry murmurs and then he blurs

from Louis's vision as he leans down to connect their mouths again.

Kissing Harry is easy to get lost in. His lips are perpetually soft and
warm; each breath he takes is a quiet flutter against Louis's mouth.
He wanders with his kisses, along Louis's jaw and down the side of
his neck, over the ink of his collarbones and then Louis has to
throw his head back he sucks a mark just above the curve of his
shirt. Louis lets him do it, tucks his hands in the pockets of Harry's
jeans and lets him work, humming lowly against Louis's chest and
pinching his skin with his teeth.

He looks up at Louis again with a sly smile. "Payback," he

whispers.

Louis rolls his eyes and then rolls them so he can straddle Harry
instead. He undoes the buttons on Harry's shirt with quick fingers,
kissing each inch of exposed skin without lifting his lips in
between. He can feel the flutter of Harry's abs under his mouth and
the tightening of them when he kisses along the waistband of
Harry's jeans. Louis tries to inhale subtly as he runs his nose over
the curve of Harry's belly. He smells like summer with a tinge of
something sweet and he laughs when Louis kisses the swell of his
hip.
Louis undoes the button on Harry's jeans and then sits up to slip his
shirt over his shoulders and then tug his tee off. Harry sits up to kiss
him, his hands roaming the curve of Louis's hips as Louis splits his
lips with his tongue and presses inside his mouth, memorizing the
edges of Harry's teeth with his tongue.

354
It's all aimless as they kiss, Louis in Harry's lap. Their hands don't
seem to be reaching for anything as they explore, their lips parting
on every odd gasp. Louis is content to keep it going even as he feels
Harry's cock filling where it's pressed against his thigh, his own
jeans seeming to get tighter as he adjusts his hips.

"What do you want?" Louis figures to ask when he's out of breath
and starting to get a bit more antsy for some definitive purpose in
their movements.

"I don't know," Harry says. He laughs when Louis pushes his
shoulders and Harry falls back against the bed. "I'm serious," he
adds with a smile.

"Sure," Louis says, biting gently on Harry's ear and then in a trail
down his neck. He runs his fingers softly over Harry's chest and
catches the missed breath when he touches Harry's nipples. He
smiles wickedly as he scoots down the bed and licks the same path
his fingers have just traced. He bites and sucks lightly, kisses and
blows cool air until Harry is absolutely squirming under him, each
cut off moan replaced with something higher and softer.

"Have any ideas yet, babe?" Louis asks as he sits up, thumbs
rubbing circles on Harry's reddened skin. "Or I can keep going?"

Harry barks out a laugh as he puts his hands to his eyes like he can't
believe what's happening.
"Fingers," he finally manages.

Louis tilts his head, "Huh?"

Harry drops his hands and meets Louis's eyes. "Can I finger you?"

355
It's a simple question, a graphic one at that, but it still takes Louis a
moment to answer, his mouth opening and closing. "You're just
gonna ask me like that?" He says with wide eyes, "The same way
you asked me if I liked olives the other day at lunch?"

Harry raises his eyebrows. "Do you want to fight about this?"

Louis shakes his head. "No, not really." He dips forward to kiss
Harry and then he scrambles off the bed, pulling off his jeans and
kicking off his shoes in a mad rush before getting back on the bed
and lying flat. Harry hasn't so much as moved from his position.

"Eager?"

"You've got no fucking idea," he says, wiggling his hips.

Watching Harry take off his rings is the most erotic thing Louis's
seen in his entire life, he's pretty sure. Either that, or he's too turned
on for his own good watching each ring land against the nightstand
and then studying the broadness of Harry's shoulders and thin line
of his hips when he gets up.

Louis sticks his hand in his briefs while Harry goes to his bag and
digs around. He presses on his cock to keep himself calm but it's
not enough and he ends up with his hand wrapped around himself,
pulling lightly when Harry turns back.

"Are you starting without me?" Harry asks, walking back to the bed
with a small tube in his hand.
Louis grins.
"You're taking too long, darling," he says smugly.
Harry laughs as he crawls over Louis again and then they’re
laughing against each other's mouths and, god, all Louis can think

356
is that this is what he wants. This laughter and heat and teasing is
all he wants each night and it's a tough pill to swallow he doesn't
get to keep Harry come morning light.
Harry hooking his thumb in the waistband of his underwear is
enough to pull him from his reverie, his hips lifting as an assist.
Harry throws Louis’s boxers over his shoulder and looks at him like
he’s dessert. Louis thinks he nearly blacks out as Harry finally leans
down to kiss him.

"I can't feel my legs."

"You can't feel your legs? I feel like you gave me an epidural with
your tongue."

"An epidural?" Harry sits up, his hair sticking up and chest still
shiny with sweat. "Isn't that for pregnant women?"

Louis raises his eyebrows, "Do you want to fight about this?"

Harry laughs and lays back down, his head pillowed on Louis's
chest. It feels as though they've ran a marathon, still trying to catch
their breath.

Louis thought he'd reached nirvana when he fed his cock between
Harry's lips two nights ago but somehow Harry's mouth on him, a
bottle of lube, and slick fingers brought him to a higher state of
being all together. There's something magic in Harry's tongue and
the way he waited for Louis to tell him what to do, to tell him when
it was good or how to adjust. His fingers may be more wicked than

357
his tongue, the way he pressed two inside of Louis and twisted
them, making Louis see white spots and dancing elephants in his
vision. He's not sure where the elephants came from, Harry Styles
may just be a sex god in disguise. He came so hard his entire body
clenched like a vice and it was enough to make his legs go numb.
Like a goddamn epidural.

He runs his fingers through the top of Harry's hair, breathing in his
shampoo mixed with sweat. He doesn't usually love the moments
after sex but, of course, with Harry it feels like an extension of
everything good between them. The soft way Harry breathes
against his chest, the way Louis swears his can feel Harry's
heartbeat against him.

It's a different version of Harry than the one Louis had between his
legs. The one who licked up Louis's come and then kissed him hard,
harsh breaths from his nose against Louis's face. Louis hadn't even
had to do much to make Harry come, just take him in his hand and
whisper absolute filth in his ear. Harry came with his face tucked
against Louis's neck, his whole body twitching as his orgasm
seemed to consume him, a silent scream pressed to Louis's skin.

Louis takes a deep breath. He knows it's been a long time since he's
done more with a guy than suck them off in a bathroom stall but
everything feels brand new with Harry. Every experience better
than the last to the point he may be becoming addicted. Addicted to
Harry's stupid jokes and sweet personality, his hot body and the
way he moves in bed - Louis exhales. He's so fucked for Harry
Styles he doesn't know when he's going to have to actually admit it
to himself.

"Can we call room service?" Harry asks into the silent room.

358
"Yeah," Louis says, reaching for the phone. "What do you want,
sweetheart?" Sweetheart. He bites his tongue for that one.

"I want a plate of fries," Harry says. "And I want them to take that
stupid fucking fish off the stupid wall."

Louis laughs so hard, he drops the phone.

DAY TWELVE

Grand Canyon, Arizona

It’s too soon, Louis thinks. Too soon to edge on consciousness and
already know whose warm body is pressed up against his. Too soon
to smile before he even opens his eyes because Harry is asleep on
his chest and snoring like a kitten.
By his count, he’s known Harry for twelve days and that doesn’t
seem near enough time to feel the way he does. The warmth curling
in his stomach, the protectiveness swirling behind his ribs. He
wants to know everything about Harry, he wants Harry to know
everything about him. Neither of those things are anywhere near
what he is allowed to ask for.
What he is allowed to ask for, he thinks, is playful kissing and
wandering touches; pretending to be together in all the ways that
don’t matter as long as they keep their hearts securely apart, never
title anything more than nothing.
He swallows and it feels on the wrong edge of painful. He’s not the
one who gets caught up, he’s not the one who gets left. Laying here
with Harry’s warmth on top of him, he thinks both of those things
may have just become true.

359
Not without effort, Louis rolls out from underneath Harry and onto
the floor like a spy. Or, he feels like a spy. His boxers are uneven
and inside out, his back is scratched, his hair is a mess - so maybe
not James Bond in the making. It doesn’t help that he stubs his toe
on the way to the bathroom and shrieks in surprise either. Harry
doesn’t even budge and Louis wonders if he should be offended.
He decides not to be - after he uses the restroom and finds Harry
still sound asleep in bed. He’s curled his body around the pillow
where Louis had been, completely eclipsing Louis’s spot in the bed.
The clock on the side table reads just after seven and Louis really
doesn’t want to be the reason they have to get back on the road.
Having a lazy morning with Harry is high up on the list of things he
wants, the things he is pretty sure he’s not allowed to have.

Unless, of course, he steals it.

He skirts the edge of the bed to get in on the opposite side of where
he left, slowly adjusting the covers as he folds into Harry, melting
into the position of a spoon against Harry’s sleep warm back. Louis
kisses the corner of Harry’s shoulder because it’s there and then lets
his head fall back against the pillow. He barely closes his eyes when
Harry’s raspy voice slices the room.

“Was I not a good big spoon?”

Louis keeps his eyes closed and pretends like he’s fallen into a
Sleeping Beauty type of deep sleep but Harry rolls his hips back
against him and, yeah, Louis can’t really ignore that.
“Not to my liking, no,” he says, his lips twitching into a poorly
hidden smile.

360
Harry turns around like a cat caught in a pillowcase, shaking the
entire bed and kneeing Louis in the stomach twice with his
ridiculous legs. So much for a lazy morning.

“Good morning,” he says when he gets settled again.

Louis laughs over his own, “Good morning,” only a tiny bit
endeared Harry needed to look him in the face to say it.
“Why were you sneaking around?” Harry asks as his eyes roam
Louis’s face. The soft underside of Louis’s heart wants to say he’s
trying to memorize the lines but he’s not sure that’s true.
“Sneaking around?” Louis raises his eyebrows, “I took a piss.
Literally.” Louis studies the small indent between Harry’s
eyebrows, the way it deepens at his words.

“But I thought you’d come back to bed?”

“I did,” Louis says. “Where do you think we are right now? I
switched sides.” He runs his finger over Harry’s cheekbone to catch
a stray eyelash before putting his hand under the side of his head.
“You could have taken your spot back,” Harry says easily. “I was
keeping it warm.”
Louis’s laugh comes out like a soft bark. “Yeah, you looked dead to
the world, babe. I wasn’t planning to bother you.”

“That’s sweet,” Harry says, a smile crawling slowly over his face.
Louis rolls his eyes. “More like I knew if you woke up, we’d have
to actually start the day and I was hoping to sleep longer.”

Harry frowns, “We can sleep longer.”

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“Can we?” Louis says, squinting. “You seem pretty bright eyed
right now, like you’re ready to jump right out of bed.”
“I’m not,” Harry says, yawning theatrically. Louis raises an
unimpressed eyebrow. “No, really, I’m tired. We can go back to
sleep right now.”
As if to prove a point, Harry rolls so his back is to Louis but crowds
in close so they’re pressed together. Louis watches in slight awe as
Harry backs into him and then lays his head on the pillow, tugging
Louis’s arm low over his stomach in a very forced cuddle. Louis
sighs and rolls his eyes, yet again. Of all people, he had to go get a
crush on Harry Styles.
He flattens his palm over Harry’s stomach and feels each deep
breath he takes against his hand. It starts to lull him and he closes
his eyes. Maybe the lazy morning he wanted isn’t so far away after
all.
Barely two minutes pass before Harry huffs and rolls on his back,
dislodging Louis. “I’m so sorry,” he says plainly, “I’m really not
tired.”
Louis pretends to groan even as he laughs, Harry laughing lightly
along with him.
“You stay here,” Harry says as he sits up. “I’ll shower and you can
doze. I’ll take a long shower.”
Louis looks at him wearily and then shoos him off the bed. He
doesn’t even watch him go, eyes closing again as he folds into
Harry’s warm spot. He hears the shower start and he pretends its
rain, soothing him to sleep.

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Sleep never comes. He opens his eyes with a disgruntled sigh and
rubs at his eyes. A warm bed had sounded like a dream but he can’t
get into it anymore, sleep evading him as the morning rises.

“Fucking Harry,” he mutters as he sits up.

He gives himself a minute of contemplating forcing himself back to
sleep before he gets out of bed and stretches. He listens to the
running shower for only a moment before he walks across the room
and hooks his thumbs in his boxers to get them off.
“If you can’t beat them, join them,” he mutters as he flings the
bathroom door open.
Harry’s surprised grin at Louis appearing next to the shower quickly
turns dirty as Louis steps inside - and it’s just like Deja vu. If Louis
isn’t careful, his heart might get used to mornings like this.

*
The shower takes longer than it probably should and when they
finally get out, their skin is flushed and Louis isn’t sure he got all of
the shampoo out of his hair. The things he does in the name of
pretty boys. Or, one pretty boy in particular.
Harry isn’t much better but he keeps composed as he walks around
with just his towel around his hips, his back red with scratches from
Louis’s hands. It’s a good look on him, Louis thinks. A better look
was when he dropped to his knees in the shower and opened his
mouth, the way his cheekbones stood out when he hollowed his
cheeks, the way his green eyes met Louis’s as he took him deeper
down his throat.
Louis clears his throat at the thought, mostly to pull himself out of
dreamland but Harry hears him too, and smirks from across the
room. They do a pretty good job at getting ready after that, pulling

363
on jean shorts and t-shirts – shoving the rest of their clothes in their
bags and zipping them shut.
Harry is laying on the bed with his feet still on the ground when
Louis finishes brushing his teeth, a hotel brochure in front of his
face.
“What are you looking for?” Louis asks, putting his toothbrush
back in his bag.
“Doesn’t this seem like the kind of place that would have
themed pancakes?” “Themed?”

“Like a bear pancake with a face done in fruit and whip cream?”

Louis blinks twice. “What?”

Harry sits up and tosses the menu back to the nightstand. “I want
pancakes and since we’re in a forest-themed lodge, I’m hoping they
will make me bear pancakes.”

“You are six years old.”

Harry makes a buzzing sound followed by, “That’s false. I’m
enthusiastic about our surroundings.”
“Yeah? You’re not so enthusiastic about the fish though, are you?
That’s kind of biased.”
Harry stands up and shakes his head, getting his bag from the far
corner. “Do not even get me started on that fish, again.”
Louis laughs and leads the way out of the room, casting around last
glances for anything they’ve forgotten. They’re expert travelers by
now, he’s pretty sure they have everything down to the finest
details.

364
They’re waiting for the elevator when Harry bumps his hip against
Louis’s, sending him off balance. Louis does it back and Harry
laughs lightly.
“What?” Louis spins to face Harry and tilts his head.

“Why is that funny?” “Don’t know,” Harry shrugs,

smiling.

“And why are you so happy?” Louis asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Is a man not allowed to be happy?”

Louis rubs his lips together. “I’m suspicious.”

“I hope they have bear pancakes,” Harry says, laughing over his
words.

Louis blinks at him. “That’s why you’re so smiley?”

Harry shrugs again and it’s starting to look like he’s got a nervous
tick. “Maybe.” Louis pinches his hip and Harry squeaks. “What? I
don’t know why I’m so happy. It’s just a good day, okay?” Louis
hums as the elevator doors slide open and they step inside.

“Hey,” he says when the doors close.

“Hey,” Harry repeats, looking over at him. They stare at each
other for barely a moment and then Harry grins again. “What?”

Louis lifts his shoulder and lets it fall. “Nothing.”

He can feel Harry staring at the side of his face and it’s almost like
Louis can’t help himself when he leans over to kiss him. Quick and
soft and then once more as the doors slide open into the lobby.

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Louis steps out first and he can’t help the butterflies shaking out
their wings when Harry smiles at him shyly. He’s got a dirty mouth
but an elevator kiss has left him speechless. Louis is in far too deep
to make it out safely.
*
To Harry’s immense satisfaction and general joy, the restaurant in
Bright Angel Lodge has pancakes arranged like bear faces with
strawberry eyes, a banana nose and a whip cream smile. He
convinces Louis to get the same – or, rather, speaks over Louis’s
boring bagel request and orders for both of them.
The bears are as ludicrous as Louis imagines them to be when their
plates arrive and definitely made for six year olds but Harry has a
whole photo shoot with them and makes Louis hold up his plate for
a portrait shot. Louis only complains a few times and on his last
complaint, Harry silences him with a kiss on the wrong side of PG
for a family restaurant. Louis doesn’t really mind.
Not minding is his new strategy, he thinks. They have limited time
left on the road and when it all falls away; it could be the only time
they have at all. There’s no telling what being back on campus will
be like – he’s pretty sure it won’t be nights of sunsets and mornings
of lazy kisses.
Instead of letting the lump in his throat push up, he swallows and
takes a bite out his pancakebear’s ear. For now, he has Harry and
though he’s not sure what that means in the long run, for now it
doesn’t have to mean anything. For now, it’s simply kissing Harry’s
lips when he’s covered them in whip cream and holding his hand as
they navigate the parking lot to the Jeep after breakfast. For now,
it’s what he wants.

366
It’s cool enough they can drive with the windows down instead of the
air conditioning, the breeze ruffling slowly through the car as they
drive south to Sedona. Louis consulted the itinerary notebook before
they took off for what potential activities Harry had planned but finds
nothing listed.
“Is Sedona so boring there aren’t even museums?” Louis asks as he
tosses the notebook toward Harry. Harry has a crossword puzzle
book in his lap and it nearly tumbles with the impact of the
itinerary.
“No,” Harry says, carefully putting the itinerary back in the glove
compartment. “I decided I would take two days there instead of just
passing through, There’s a pretty good contemporary art scene.”

“Ah, art,” Louis says drily, “My favorite.”

Harry doesn’t validate him with a response and then Louis is
starting the car and putting on Lorde’s second album for the two
hour drive. Harry crosses his left ankle over his right knee, and sets
about his crossword puzzle with a purple ink pen.

Louis only glances over once in a while, when it's safe to keep his
eyes off the road - or when he deems it safe enough. He likes the
way the sunlight shadows Harry's face and the way he chews on the
end of his pen while he thinks of the next word for his game. He's
so content to do something on his own whereas Louis would have
already thrown the entire activity book out the window. In fact, he
may have done something similar to that when his parents tried to
make him read quietly on family road trips when he was a kid.

It's funny, Louis thinks, that he doesn't mind the quiet like this with
Harry. This aimless silence of driving with soft music. He likes that
he's with Harry, he thinks. His mere presence a calming force as he
hums to himself and looks out the windows every once in a while.

367
He catches Louis looking at him a couple of times, like he can feel
the weight of his gaze. Louis knows by the way he smirks to
himself or by the way he'll look out of the corner of his eye and
meet Louis's eyes.

Sedona is not a town for wayward, broke, collegiate travelers. As

they drive the very outskirts, Louis spots resorts up every tree-lined
driveway mixed in between tiny art galleries and breweries with
huge patios. He doesn't see a motel for a few miles and he's not sure
that's a good sign.
"You know what we should do," Harry says, as if he's read Louis's
mind. "We should splurge for a night at one of these resorts."

"What?" Louis raises his eyebrows, "They probably cost as much as

this whole trip combined."

"I highly doubt that’s true," Harry says with a serious look. "It's
probably a few hundred bucks."

"You realize the lodge was fifty dollars each last night, right?"

"Louis," Harry says seriously, turning in his seat so he's facing

Louis. "You always say we should go on adventures, yeah?"

Louis presses his lips together. "When they're the same adventures I
want to go on, yeah." He growls when Harry pinches the side of his
ribs. "Do you not value my honesty?"

Harry rolls his eyes, the corner of his mouth drawing up in a smirk.

368
"Come on, it could be kind of fun. We can stay in the city instead of
out on some random outskirt just because it's cheaper. It can be like
Bricktown in Oklahoma."

"Bricktown," Louis repeats, buying some time. The first night he

realized he'd like nothing more than to kiss Harry, the night that
thought made a home right behind his ribs and refused to leave. He
doesn't like how much it would cost to stay in a resort but he likes
the idea of staying - going out to a bar with Harry, dressing up for
a nice dinner, holding hands as they go back to their room. Making
out with Harry in a fancy room on a bed with some ridiculously
high thread count sheets.
He doesn't think he would mind that so much.

"Come on, Lou," Harry says sweetly. He puts a hand on Louis's

knee and gives the Harry Styles version of puppy-dog eyes. It's as if
Louis never stood a chance.

"We're getting the cheapest room," Louis says. "And we're only
staying one night." Harry actually salutes him and Louis rolls his
eyes.
*

They choose a resort and spa hidden behind an array of green trees
and for the entire drive up to the front, Harry prattles on about how
maybe he'll spend money to get a massage because his back has
been hurting him with all the sitting they've done.

"You have a bad back?" Louis pulls his eyes away from the rolling
rocks leading to the front of Heaven Oasis Resort and Spa.
"I have an extra vertebra," Harry says. "It aches sometimes."

369
"I could give you a massage," Louis offers before even considering
he's not that good of a masseuse to begin with. More of a receiver
than a giver when it comes to spa-related activities.

"Yeah," Harry snorts lightly. "If I want a massage with a happy

ending, I'll let you know."
"Hey," Louis says, even as he laughs. He gets out another laugh
before he can speak again. "That might be a valid assumption." "I
know," Harry says smugly. "I didn't say it was a bad one, either."
Louis looks over and winks with the entire left side of his face.
Harry laughs and looks away.

There's a valet at the front door but Louis parks on his own, not
overly excited about paying someone to do something he's fully
capable of. The grounds are gorgeous, he has to admit. There's a
running creek somewhere in the distance and there's more greenery
than he's seen in all of Arizona. There's even a slight coolness to the
air which Louis didn't think existed anywhere in the state.

"Oh my god," Harry says, as soon as they get out of the car. "It's a
wedding."

Once Louis calms from Harry's startled outburst, he pays attention

to what he's actually looking at, a wedding just down the back of
the resort property. It hasn't started yet but it's already obvious what
it is with floral arches and white chairs all lined up. There are a
handful people milling around and Louis can almost feel the
nervous excitement in the air.
"Good job," he says to Harry, nodding like he's impressed. Harry
pokes him in the stomach.

370
"This is such a dreamy location," Harry says, crossing his arms to
observe the details of the ceremony set up. They're too far away to
properly see anything but Louis lets Harry go on. "The shade trees
are great and then there's slices of sun too which is perfect for
photos," he muses. "The flowers along the backs of the chairs is a
really nice touch." He talks so quietly, Louis wonders if he's even
supposed to hear him.

"Are you a wedding planner disguised as an Art History major?"

Louis asks with raised eyebrows when Harry remarks on the slant
of the ground being higher where the bride and groom will be.

"No," Harry says, cheeks turning a slight pink. "I love weddings."

"Yeah?" Louis smiles, "Thought about yours a lot?" He doesn't

know why he says it except they always ask each other questions
like this. It's why he feels like he's known Harry his whole life, after
all.

"Sometimes I do." Harry switches his hips and rocks back on his
feet as if to stretch his back.
"When I'm not feeling pessimistic about romance."

"Where's your dream location for a wedding, then?"

"By a lake," Harry says quickly and then he bites his lip. "That was
too quick to answer, wasn't it? I should have drawn it out."

"It's fine," Louis says, shaking his head. "I think it's sweet you've
even thought about it." "Sweet," Harry repeats with a nod,
pressing his lips together.
Louis feels an odd twist in his belly at Harry's reaction but he
presses on. "So, a lake?"

371
Harry smiles slowly. "Yeah, I guess. I would love to have the
ceremony with the lake just beyond where we do the vows and
then rent out a bunch of cabins for the weekend or whatever. So
our family and friends could all stay and celebrate, not just rush in
for one night. I want it to be a celebration of our love and our
future, not an obligation." "Our?" Louis repeats, blinking slowly.

Harry groans and looks away. "Me and my potential future partner,"
he corrects. "Not you and me. Is that better?"

Louis laughs. "I wasn't suggesting you meant you and me," he says,
realizing what Harry heard in his question. "I was just remarking on
the way you used the inclusive form for friends and family. I like
that idea."

Harry actually covers his face and Louis's eyebrows pull together
confused.

"What?" He asks, pulling Harry's hand down, his fingers wrapped

gently over Harry's wrists. Harry is beautifully flushed but it's
different than when they fool around. This is a flush of innocence
and playful embarrassment, coloring his cheeks and down his neck.
Louis smiles. "What?" He asks again.

"I'm a bit embarrassed I thought you were proposing marriage," he

says, laughing. "That's kind of awkward."

"Embarrassing, yes," Louis says with a firm nod. "But I think we're
past awkward, babe. We've been sharing bedrooms and bathrooms
for twelve days now. There's not a lot you can hide from me." Harry
tilts his head side to side, "I can hide some stuff, I think."

372
"Like what?" Louis asks, dropping his hands back to his side when
he realizes his thumbs are circling Harry's wrist bones.

"Mysteries," Harry says, his face returning to normal color.

Louis pouts out his bottom lip, "Secrets don't make friends."

Harry shrugs in agreement, "Maybe not." He closes the space

between them and kisses Louis, slowly with a simmer of heat.
"Kisses do."

"I don't kiss all my friends," Louis says when Harry pulls back. He
knows he's supposed to not be caring about what it is that they're
doing but sometimes he feels like he needs to point it out. What
they're doing is not normal, surely Harry knows that, too.

Harry smiles like he's got a secret, "Neither do I." Louis really
doesn't know what to say to that.

"Shall we go check in?"

Louis follows along behind Harry, neither of them grabbing their
bags. It's probably best to see what kind of fortune they charge for
rooms at a resort called Heaven Oasis before they truly commit. As
if Louis will actually be able to get Harry away now that there's a
wedding happening.
He keeps looking over as they walk, like he's waiting for someone

to invite him to attend. "I wonder where they're honeymooning,"

Louis asks. "Probably going to get a bunch of free shit."

"Do you think that's true?" Harry asks, finally looking away from
the set-up and over at Louis.

373
"Newlyweds get free stuff?"

"Uh, yeah," Louis says. "They have that gift registry and then they
mention they've just gotten married and everyone just throws things
at them. Well wishes for a happy life or a happy few years before
the sex goes stale and someone cheats."

"Wow," Harry drags out lowly. "Romance is in the air, eh?"

Louis smiles sheepishly, "Sorry."

"I hope one day I get to find out if it's all it's cracked up to be,"
Harry says with a nod. "And I hope whoever I marry is fun enough
that even when we've been married for five years, we still go to
restaurants and pretend we're on our honeymoon to get free
dessert."

Louis laughs at the proclamation and then stops short as he reaches

for the ornate front doors to the lobby of Heaven Oasis.

"What?" Harry whispers, glancing around.

Louis licks his lips, mind running through an idea, lips pursing as
he tries to calculate logistics.

"What?" Harry asks again, slightly more frantic.

"Give me a ring," Louis says, turning so he's facing Harry and

they're blocked from view from the inside.

"What?" Harry asks even as he slips off a silver ring from his right
hand.

374
"You sound like a parrot," Louis says. He puts the ring on his left
hand, the fit too perfect to begin to think about. "Move that ring to
your ring finger," he instructs pointing at Harry's middle finger.
Harry does it with wide eyes, clearly not catching on to Louis's
plan. "What the fuck is going on?"
Louis smiles and takes a deep breath. "I need you to go with what's
about to happen," he says.
"Don't break character and don't ask questions."

"Character?" Harry asks, bewildered as Louis pulls open the front

door. "What are you talking about?"

Louis doesn't listen, eyes scanning the luxurious lobby and landing
on the man at the front desk with a bow tie and curious eye already
on the two of them. Harry's panicked expression is surely not doing
them any favors.

Louis licks his lips and twirls to face Harry. "Kiss me," he whispers
as he leans in.

Harry does as he is asked though Louis takes control. He pulls

Harry in until they're pressed together, his hand cupped around
Harry's neck as he moves his mouth slowly. He parts Harry's lips
with his tongue and then pushes inside, Harry gasping quietly in
response. Louis keeps going, biting on Harry's lip and soothing it
the way that makes Harry's whole body tighten like he's trying to
keep it together. For his final act, Louis slides both hands down
Harry's back to his ass and then squeezes as he pulls Harry in
further. Harry's low moan goes straight to Louis's cock and they
have to separate pretty quickly after that. They do have a job to do.

375
Harry looks stricken when Louis opens his eyes, his eyes dark and
lips red. Louis winks and grabs his hand, sauntering up to the front
desk. He takes a deep breath. This is going to be like the Lightning
Field's but on steroids, if he wants to get them maximum payout.
He licks his lips and smiles.
"Hello," he says, tugging Harry up alongside him when the front
desk agent greets them. Even his cheeks are a bit red as he looks
between the two of them and Louis thinks they might be in a good
place already.

"Sorry about that," he says conversationally, shaking his head with

wide eyes and a stupid smile. "We've only been married for a day
and we're not quite over it." He holds up his hand with Harry's ring.

"Oh wow," the front desk guy, Greg according to his name tag, says.
"That's amazing. Congratulations."
"Thank you," Louis says emphatically. "We've been around our
friends and family for three days straight and we're more than ready
to get to the honeymoon part," he says with a wink. Harry shifts
next to him and Louis pulls their joined hands around Harry's hip to
bring them closer together.

"Where was the wedding?" Greg asks. "If you don't mind my
asking."

"Not at all," Louis says, grinning. "It was actually at the sweetest
lake just outside of Holbrook," he says. "You know the one?" Louis
thinks of the unmarked signs that lead them to that lake two days
ago, the way they kissed in the wet sunlight.

"Can't say I'm familiar."

376
"It is kind of a secluded spot," Louis murmurs. "But it was perfect.
We had all of our family stay in cabins near the lake and then we
had the ceremony right on the water’s edge." He sighs for effect and
shakes his head, "It was magic, really. You know the best part?"

Greg leans closer, smiling. "What?"

"I got to keep him at the end of it," Louis says after a pause. He
knocks his hip against Harry's and then kisses the side of his neck.
Harry blinks quickly and then half smiles, a poor attempt at staying
in character but Louis lets it go.

"That's romantic," Greg says, looking between them. "What a sweet

thing to say."

"It's true," Louis says. "My dream come true, you know." Harry
nudges his hip when it goes quiet and Louis remembers this is a one
man show and Harry has no idea what he’s doing. "Anyway, we fly
to Paris in a couple of days but we wanted to stay somewhere
romantic until then. We've heard such lovely things about this place.
Our friends Rick and Erika stayed here last year."
Harry actually chokes and Louis rubs his hand up his back, kissing
the side of his shoulder.

"Do you have reservations?" Greg asks, rubbing his hand together.

Louis laughs lightly, "No. We were so excited for our wedding and
then Paris, we kind of skipped the days in the middle." He slides so
he's in front of Harry, his back to Harry's chest and their hands all
kinds of twisted around each other. It's so fucking ridiculous.

"Let me see what I can do," Greg says after staring for a moment. "I
think we might be able to work something out." There's some key

377
clicking on the keyboard and then Greg excuses himself to the back
room as Louis rocks back and forth in Harry's arms.

Harry leans in close, his breath warm on Louis's ear. "What the fuck
is going on?" He whispers.

"We're trying out the newlywed theory, baby," Louis says with a
sweet smile while barely moving his lips.
Harry runs his lips over Louis's ear and sends shivers up his back.
He puts his hands on Louis's hips to stop them mid-sway. "Stop
running your ass over my dick or we're going to be in a bit of a
situation," he whispers.

Louis throws his head back laughing and he's mid-cackle when
Greg reappears from the back room.

"Sorry about the wait Mr. -" "Tomlinson," Louis says.

"Styles," Harry says, deciding now is a good time to partake in the
conversation.

Louis laughs to cover it. "Hyphenated. Tomlinson-Styles."

"Right," Greg says without missing a beat. "We'd like to offer you
the honeymoon suite for half off of the price tonight and no charge
for tomorrow night. It includes all of the standard spa packages and
private dinner reservations on the terrace."

Harry squeezes Louis's hip and hides his smile against the side of
Louis's neck. "Oh god, wow,"
Louis gushes. "That would be incredible, Greg. Thank you so
much."

"The least I could do," Greg says, back to clicking on the keyboard.

378
He holds up his left hand, "My fiancé and I are getting married in
Jamaica next summer. I know the feeling."

"Jamaica," Louis repeats with a smile. He's definitely using Jamaica

as his next fake wedding destination. "Sounds amazing."

Greg smiles and gets a far off look in his eyes that Louis instantly
hopes he can replicate someday.
He hopes he marries someone who makes him go a bit starry eyed
in public places.

"Why don't you both make your way to the bar," he says, gesturing
toward the other side of the lobby. "I'll get you checked in and have
someone get your bags to your room."

"Really?" Louis can't quite believe this is real. "Thank you," he says
only to be echoed by Harry.
Louis hands over the car keys and points out the Jeep in the parking
lot outside. They make it away from Greg with a few more rounds
of gracious thanks.

"That was amazing," Harry whispers as he takes Louis’s hands in

his. "I don't even know what to do."

Louis smiles, "When I was a kid, I also wanted to be an actor.

Could have been a good one, yeah?"

Harry shakes his head, still in disbelief. "You used my dream

wedding as our fake wedding."

Louis snorts, "Yeah, sorry."

Harry licks his lip. "I feel frazzled."

379
"Frazzled," Louis repeats turning to face him halfway to the bar.

"Part impressed, part offended you used my wedding, part turned

on."

Louis stops, "Turned on?"

"It turns out you grinding against me while lying about a wedding
for free shit is one of my kinks."
Louis's laughter bubbles as he squeezes Harry's hand. "If you're
lucky, I'll suck you off in the honeymoon suite later," he says.

Harry does the sign of the cross and they both laugh as they enter
the bar hand in hand.

They get a bit day drunk.

It’s not even intentional but the bartender overheard their story at
the front desk and has two glasses of Rosé waiting for them. With
one glance at each other, they gladly accept. One glass of Rosé
turns to two and then they order the house sangria and each finish a
glass of that. They play up the newlywed thing a bit more just in
case anyone actually cares to follow up on their story. Halfway
through the sangria, Harry decides to start telling the bartender
about how they first met and makes it such an extravagant narrative
that Louis ends up just covering Harry’s mouth with his hand to get
him to shut up.
“Should we go to our room, love?” Louis asks tensely when Harry
looks over, confused. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are
shining with the excitement from their little game but Louis really

380
doesn’t want their cover to break before they even get to use the
first night in the fancy hotel.
“Yes, we should, love,” Harry parrots back and laughs over his
words, his dimples too cute for Louis to be completely annoyed.
Somehow the bartender has their room key card and hands it over
with a knowing smirk which makes Louis blush and Harry laugh
even louder. To a wine-drunk Harry, everything is pure comedy.
Louis holds Harry's hand on the walk to the elevator and though he
tells himself it's because Greg is watching from the front desk he
knows it’s really, really not. He likes the way Harry's hand fits in
his, the warm weight of it and the way his fingers twitch when he
talks.
The elevator has a mirror on the ceiling and Harry takes a picture of
them with his phone while they look up at it. It's a bit disorienting
when they look straight ahead again and they end up laughing to
each other as they try to stay standing upright. Somehow the
laughing turns to kissing and then Louis has Harry pinned against
the side of the elevator as he grabs at Harry's waist and rolls their
hips together filthily. They spring a part when the elevator
announces their floor with a dull buzz only to be met with a group
of women in business attire staring at them from the other side.

Louis knows Harry's lips are kissed red and he imagines his own are
close to the same shade as they both step out of the elevator and
clear their throats. One of the women giggles lightly as if she knows
what they’ve been up to.

"We're newly married," Harry announces to the group, smiling.

"Can't keep our hands to ourselves."

381
The women trail into the elevator with matching smiles as Louis
grabs Harry's hand to take him down the hallway.

"Oh, I remember those days," one woman says with a sigh. "Hottest
sex of my life."

Louis's eyebrows shoot up and Harry nods like he understands as

the other women murmur in agreement.

"Have fun tonight, boys," another lady says, smiling slowly as the
doors close and separate them for good.
"We will," Harry calls back and Louis pinches his ass for the pure
joy of it, running away down the hallway when Harry tries to
retaliate.

The honeymoon suite is in the corner and they're both breathless by

the time they make it to the door, Louis hurrying to insert the key
card into the lock while Harry tickles his sides and tries to kiss his
neck. They're both laughing loudly as they trip over themselves into
the room before going quiet.

"Oh, sweet god," Harry breathes as the door closes behind them.

"Fuck," Louis echoes as his eyes trace the edges of the room slowly.

There's a full couch in the corner and a television along the wall
with large windows opposite, all the curtains drawn to let in the
natural light. There's a bed that looks bigger than a king size in the
middle of the room with rose petals leading from where they stand
to the pillows in a river of red and pink with a bottle of Rosé resting
on ice near the center of the pillows. Beyond the bed is a set of

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sliding doors leading out to the balcony, and two lounge chairs
outside.

"This is free?" Harry asks.

"Half off tonight," Louis says, "Free tomorrow. I think it was like
two hundred total."

"With the massages and the dinner?"

Louis laughs, "Yes."

"Why weren't we doing this from the beginning?" Harry asks
rhetorically, walking further into the room. Probably because we
didn't like each other like we do now, Louis thinks but doesn't say
out loud.

Louis notices their bags have been set up neatly in the corner,
Harry's camera case securely on the desk next to the pile. There's a
giant mirror along the wall and one on the ceiling over the bed that
makes Louis roll his eyes. Maybe the freshly married like to watch
themselves have sex.

"Lou, oh my god," Harry says catching Louis's attention.

Louis has to follow his voice to the bathroom, immediately noticing

more rose petals and two bathrobes hanging by the double sinks.
Harry is pointing at the Jacuzzi tub in the center though, sunken
into the floor with candles around the edges.

"This is ridiculous," Louis laughs shaking his head.

"It reminds me of like, a baby-making room," Harry says.

"Babe, I think that's the whole point," Louis says slowly.

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Harry laughs, "Not sex for fun but for making legitimate babies. It's
all super romantic so I feel like couples just rent it for a weekend
and fuck like rabbits until they're pregnant."

Louis walks away without comment, shaking his head. Harry's light
giggle follows after him.

"What do we do now?" Louis asks as they go back into the main

room, looking around. Harry doesn't respond so Louis turns around
to face him.
He's standing with his hands behind his back and a smile that says
he's up to something.

"What?" Louis asks slowly, narrowing his eyes.

"I believe I was promised a blow job in the honeymoon suite," he

says amiably.

Louis raises an eyebrow. "I said if you were lucky."

Harry tilts his head, "And if I tell you I feel lucky?"

Louis shakes his head and crosses to Harry in three steps, hands
going right for the sides of his neck to hold him as he kisses his
lips, hard and hot, biting on his plush lower lip. Harry absolutely
melts against him, his cockiness slipping away as his hands fall to
Louis's waist and his mouth opens.

He's easy enough to navigate back against the wall, his shoulders
hitting with a thud without their lips disconnecting.

"You okay like this?" Louis asks, kissing along Harry's jaw and to his
neck. Harry has barely-there stubble rough under Louis's lips and then
he curves his neck to the side as Louis kisses the column of his throat.

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"H?" He asks again, sucking a mark where the curve of Harry's jaw
meets his neck. He keeps one hand on Harry's hip to keep him back
against the wall, the other twisting together with Harry's fingers by
his shoulder.

"What?" Harry breathes when Louis pulls back. Louis blows over
the mark he's just made and smiles at the shivers along Harry's
arms.
"I asked if you're okay like this," Louis says, "With your back?" Of
course now that he knows about Harry's back, he's not going to be
able to forget about it and worry he may be hurting him.

"What about my back?"

Louis lifts Harry's shirt and puts both of his hands on either side of
the curve in Harry's waist as they kiss again. Louis runs his nails
over the skin, smirking at Harry's silent gasp.

"Are you okay if I blow you while you stand here?" Louis whispers.
"Will it hurt your back?" He drops a hand to palm at Harry's crotch
and gets a satisfyingly low moan to drop from Harry's lips as his
eyes roll back in his head. "Baby?" Louis pulls his hand back and
waits for Harry to look at him. "Words?"

Harry blinks a couple times and then shakes his head. "I'm fine, I
swear, I promise. It's fine."

Louis grins slowly, "Desperate, eh?" He loves how Harry can turn
into a mess when they're like this. He can be commanding when he
wants to be but Louis thinks this soft and sweet, borderline
desperate Harry, is where he likes him best. He likes making Harry
relinquish the control he holds so tight to.

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"Have you ever sucked your own cock?" Harry asks with startling
clarity. He brings one hand up to Louis's face and draws over his
lips with his fingers. "Your mouth should be illegal."

Louis smiles and shakes his head and then kisses Harry again,
swallowing his quiet laugh and making him moan instead. He pulls
back and kisses the corner of Harry's lips and then does what Harry
has been waiting for - and drops to his knees.

*
“I wish I was magic.”

Louis lifts his head from Harry’s bare stomach and stares.
“So, I could get the Rosé from the bed to us,” he says like it’s the
logical explanation.
“You could crawl over there and get it,” Louis reasons, laying his
head back down. He draws a line down the center of Harry’s ribs,
listening to his stomach gurgle under his ear.
He’s sure they look like a mess, Harry naked except for a shirt
around his neck, Louis without a shirt and his shorts halfway up his
legs, wrapped in each other in the middle of the floor, rose petals
scattered haphazardly around them. It’s funny what orgasms in the
middle of the day can do to people.
Harry groans lowly like crawling might kill him and Louis laughs
lightly, patting the soft skin at the bottom of Harry’s ribs. He traces
the outline of the butterfly tattoo for a quiet moment and then starts
to lay rose petals over Harry’s chest, slowly and without real
intention. He gets more into it than he expects and suddenly he’s
straddling Harry as he picks up the different colored rose petals and
arranges them over Harry’s skin.

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Harry hums quietly to himself as he notices what Louis is doing and
then his eyes close and Louis thinks he may fall asleep. Louis just
keeps going with his roses, smiling to himself as he dresses Harry
in flowers.
“Are you done?” Harry asks when Louis stops moving the flowers
around and goes still.
“I guess,” Louis says, running a finger over Harry’s bottom lip and
pressing down where its reddest, his own teeth to blame.

“Do I look like a flower prince?”

Louis snorts and rolls his eyes. “It looks a bit morbid, actually. Like
you’re getting ready to be buried.”
Harry’s eyes go wide and then he frowns. “That’s not what I was
hoping for.”
“Sorry,” Louis whispers and then folds closer so the flowers are
pressed between their chests and bellies. “I’ll do better next time.”
They kiss purposelessly for a while, hands wandering slowly as
they roll around in the roses and press them into the ground. Louis
absently hopes the cleaning crew is in charge of picking up the
pressed flowers and not them.

“Should we go out?” Harry asks.

Louis freezes like he’s been shocked, his face lifting back from
Harry’s. He thought they weren’t talking about it - the kissing and
the touching - and now that Harry’s just brought it up he doesn’t
know what the fuck to say.

“What?” is how he starts.

“Go out to the bars and stuff we saw driving up here?”

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Of course. Louis feels his heartbeat slow and ignores the drop in his
stomach that feels like he’s on a miniature roller coaster. He meets
Harry’s eyes, waiting to see if there’s something else there but all he
sees is clear green. It was an innocent question, he’s the one who
skewed it.
“Yeah,” he breathes and then clears his throat when it comes out
scratchy. “Yeah.” He rolls off of Harry unceremoniously and takes
all of the rose petals with him, trying not to feel disappointment
lingering at the bottom of his stomach. He’s not supposed to have
expectations, he’s not supposed to care - but everything in his body
feels just the opposite.
*
They open their bottle of Rosé while they change their clothes and
Louis starts to think he could simply live off of Rosé if anyone
asked. He finds a dark pair of jeans he hasn’t worn yet and he cuffs
them at the ankle with a white tee and a brown jacket that seems
cool enough for the shadier weather of Sedona than the Grand
Canyon. Harry wears the black jeans that always get Louis’s
attention and a dark pink buttoned shirt that is sheer if you stare
hard enough. Of course, Louis stares until he figures that out which
only makes Harry look at him with a smug smile.
“What about our free massages and dinner?” Harry asks when
they’re halfway out the door.
“Tomorrow,” Louis says like it’s already the plan. “We’ll explore
the city tonight, tomorrow we won’t leave the resort limits.”
Harry smiles, clearly pleased.

Outside, the wedding from before is nearly over, the last of the
procession slowly leaving the ceremony while the guests stand and

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cheer. Louis smiles and keeps walking while Harry stands still and
watches in awe as though he’s never seen a wedding before. It’s
kind of cute.
They take a twirling stone path from the resort out onto the main
street. They pass fancy restaurants and boutiques, an ice cream shop
and a handmade toy store before coming up on a fourstory bar with
balconies and fairy lights.
The hostess explains the first two floors are for the restaurant and
the second two are for the bar which is suddenly everything Louis
and Harry could hope for. They sit at a table outside near the
sidewalk and get to people watch while they eat dinner – sharing a
BLT sandwich and going halfin on a pizza with white sauce and
chicken. When the waiter asks for their drink choices, it’s the first
time they pause.
“I can’t do more Rosé,” Harry says, looking at Louis.
“No rum,” Louis says, remembering the coconut drinks in
Bricktown.
“And no tequila,” Harry says scrunching his nose. It takes Louis a
second to connect the countless margarita pitchers from Holbrook.

The waiter smiles, “So vodka?” Louis smiles and shrugs. “I guess
that’s what we have left.” “Or whiskey?” Harry asks with pursed
lips.
“We are pretty well known for our whiskey,” the waiter offers.

“Whiskey it is,” Louis says with a nod, handing over their menus.
As the evening sunshine settles around them, they end up with
sweet tea spiked with whiskey served out of boot shaped glasses.
There’s a live band that starts up when their food arrives, an indie

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kind of group that plays some covers and original stuff just loud
enough to fill the quiet spaces without blowing the walls out of the
place.
“What’s your life like on campus?” Louis asks when they’ve split
their meal onto two plates and started eating.
“What do you mean?” Harry asks, eyebrows pulling together as he
chews a bite of his sandwich.

“I mean, I know you pretty well, yeah?”

“Better than people I’ve known for a year at least,” Harry says.
“But I don’t know anything about you at school. Do you like
morning classes, for example?”
Harry licks his bottom lip as he tries not to smirk. “What do you
think?”

Louis nods, “Alright, yeah, I walked myself into that.”

“I don’t take morning classes five days a week,” Harry offers. “I
like to take an eight a.m. spin class every other day.”

Louis wrinkles his nose. “Yikes.”

“I like it,” Harry laughs. “It’s a good way to stay in shape.”

A vision of Harry’s thighs in his jeans pushes forward in Louis’s
mind and he smiles, “It’s working, babe.”
“Don’t objectify my body,” Harry says haughtily, pretending to be
offended.
“You like it,” Louis says with a knowing smile. It makes Harry
blush. “What else?” Louis asks, cutting the edge of his pizza.

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“I don’t know,” Harry says, “This is kind of a hard question, you
know.”
Louis tilts his head, “Is it?” He tries to think if he could explain his
days to Harry and isn’t sure he could. “What about like, a Saturday.
What do you do?”

Harry narrows his eyes, “Are you writing a book or what?”

“I’m curious,” Louis says, laughing. “I know you as you exist on an
end of summer road trip, maybe I want to know more.”
Harry’s face seems to soften at that but maybe Louis is imagining it.
“On a Saturday, I usually sleep in.”

Louis nods, “Thank god.”

“Until eight-thirty,” Harry laughs as Louis cringes. “Then I don’t
know, really. I’ll go on a jog sometimes or go get coffee and a scone
at Cavana. If I have a test the next week, I’ll spend like, the whole
day studying or I’ll go to a new gallery opening, an art show if there
is one. Sometimes I take my camera and just go wander into the
hills or go on a hike. Now that I have my car I might drive to the
ocean more.” He shrugs and closes his eyes, thinking. “Oh, I also
do nothing on Saturdays when I’m feeling lazy. I binge Netflix
shows and order Chinese, refuse to shower or get off the couch.”
Louis laughs along with Harry, using his straw to stir his drink.
“That’s my favorite Saturday.”
“Yeah,” Harry says, “Not so different from anyone else, I guess.
Sorry if you were expecting something else. I’m kind of boring.”
“It’s not boring,” Louis says quickly, maybe too quickly. “I don’t
think it’s boring,” he says which might only make it worse. Louis
doesn’t know how to explain that he wants to know the big things

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about Harry and all the little ones. He wants to know the boring
ones, too – the ones no one else has ever bothered to know.
Harry’s lips twitch like he’s going to say something but he stays
quiet. “Do you think your life will change now that you’re in law
school?” Harry asks, swallowing a sip of his drink. “No more lazy
Saturdays?”
“I’ll always make time for lazy Saturdays,” Louis points out. “But,
yeah, I think it will be different.”

“Nervous?”
“A bit, yeah,” Louis says nodding. He hadn’t wanted to think about
it much over the summer but he is nervous. “All of my friends that I
graduated with aren’t coming back,” he says. “I’ll be in an
apartment on my own for the first time.” He swallows and looks up
at Harry, “It’ll be really different, I think. I’ll be more alone.”
“Nope,” Harry says, perhaps sensing the change of mood. “You’ll
have me, you know.”
“Will I?” Louis says, keeping his voice even. Laying it all out there,
there’s nothing he wants more than to have Harry.
“Of course,” Harry says with a smile. “You can’t just un-know me
as soon as we get to LA.” Louis thinks it would be easier if he
could but he smiles and nods. “That’s true. So, I’ll have you.”
“You’ll have me,” Harry says, oddly serious.
But not like this, echoes quietly in Louis’s mind. He takes a longer
sip of sweet tea to try and make himself forget.

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They act like they’re going to explore the rest of what the city has
to offer but reality finds Louis and Harry on the third floor of where
they’d eaten dinner with a whiskey sour in their hands. They stand
out on the edge of the balcony, leaning up against the wooden
perimeter as they look over the street below. The fairy lights around
them are a sweet touch as night falls slowly, the sun setting
somewhere behind them where they can’t see.
“So,” Louis says, “I thought of something earlier today. Or, I
remembered something.”

Harry rubs his lips together and smirks. “What?”

“Our first day, maybe the second, you let it slip we had a class
together.”
Harry’s smirk dims slightly as he swallows. “Marine Biology.”
“With the whale sperm, yeah,” Louis says.

“What did you remember about it?”

“Nothing really,” Louis says. He scrunches his lips and then grins,
“Just that you said you thought I was cute.”
Harry blushes and looks away, trying to hide his face. Louis grins.

“That’s so embarrassing.” “It’s cute,” Louis says, shaking his

head.

“Do you want to know the truth?” Harry says, his cheeks fading
slowly.
“If you tell me you take it back, I’ll know you’re lying,” Louis says
with a glint in his eye.

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“I don’t take it back,” Harry says rolling his eyes. “Not that your
ego needs more petting.”
“I always need more petting,” Louis says saucily before shaking his
head. “That was a lot less creepy in my head.”
Harry smiles and takes a sip from his drink, smacking his lips.
“When we had that class, I had just broken up with Matt.”
Louis blinks in surprise, the balcony going quieter around them. He
hadn’t pieced that part of the story together before.
“I was so heartbroken,” Harry says, shaking his head. “And so sad.
I think that’s the best way to describe it sometimes. I was sad.”
Louis’s heart folds on the edge and he wants to reach out for Harry
and hold him. After the way they’ve tied themselves together the
past two weeks, he feels a sense of obligation to not let anyone ever
make him sad again. He knows it’s a overstated and dramatic
request; he’s aware.

“Anyway,” Harry waves his hand, “This isn’t about him. He’s a
jerk.”

“Right,” Louis says with a nod. “This about me. The angel.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, “Really? You want to go there.”

Louis nods and smiles, “I do.”

Harry flutters his eyes as he takes deep breath. “Alright, whatever.
Back to the story. It was March and I was a freshman, I was starting
to fail my classes because I was so in love with my boyfriend I
didn’t think they mattered. Only to find I was on a thin line to be
kicked out of the university and my boyfriend didn’t love me back.”
He waves his hand around, “Minor details.”

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“Right,” Louis says with a nod. He loves how Harry is lessening all
of his sadness to an anecdote in a story. It doesn’t make it any less
real but Louis knows it means it’s not lingering anymore. It’s harder
to joke about something so carelessly when it still runs an
undercurrent of the present.
“Then this guy walked into my Marine Biology class. He was
wearing a grey sweatshirt with the hood pulled up and he sat right
next to me. He took the hood off and I was almost like, star struck I
think. I thought he was so pretty and I wanted to say something but
I didn’t have anything to say. I
was too shy to even say, “Hello.” But when class started he asked
me for a pen with this raspy voice and I was literally shaking as I
gave him my pencil.”
“You gave him the pencil you were using?” Louis asks, not quite
following. “Did you have another one?”

Harry smirks, “I used a purple pen for the rest of class.”

Louis’s face pulls tight. “What an ass.”

Harry’s laugh sounds like a hiccup. “It was you, Lou.”

Louis actually feels the shock of Harry’s words starting at the top of
his head and filtering down slowly like a waterfall as he shakes his
head. “No way.”
“It was,” Harry says, barely hiding his smile at how flustered Louis
is. “I watched you write Louis Tomlinson on your paper.”
Louis’s mouth opens as he tries to think back to that class. It’s such
a blur he can hardly picture where he used to sit. It was an early
class and he was usually hungover, quite honestly. He’d just turned
twenty-one a few months before that term and the bar scene seemed

395
to call his name every night. Marine Biology was a general
education course he’d forgotten to take and so he did the bare
minimum to pass with a ‘B’. Nowhere in there does he remember
borrowing pencils or talking to pretty boys – though neither is out
of character for him.

“I don’t remember,” Louis says. “I wish I did. God, I wish I did.”

“I wasn’t very memorable as a freshman,” Harry says. “I was a
mess actually.”

“No,” Louis says, “I just wasn’t paying attention.”

Harry smiles with his lips pressed tight, “Yeah, well, after that I
tried to sit by you the next day but you weren’t there.”
“Probably hungover,” Louis says, wincing.
Harry bites his lip and then smiles. “After that, I got a call from my
mom saying she would make me come home and send me to
community college in Chicago if I didn’t get my shit together.”

Louis pushes his lips out, “I imagine that changed some things.”

“Yes,” Harry says with a nod. “I started sitting in the front of

class, showing up early.” “Being the Harry I know,” Louis adds.

Harry smiles, “Yeah. Or, starting to be him.”

“That’s why you thought I was annoying after you thought I was
cute? You turned into a star pupil and I wasn’t?”
“No,” Harry rolls his eyes. “You were fine. You just never noticed
me and I wanted you to so badly. I was a bit bitter.”

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Louis shakes his head, still in disbelief Harry has been sitting on
this secret for their whole trip.
“Why me?”
“I don’t know,” Harry says. He pokes the ice in his drink and circles
the straw. “There was something about you on that first day. Maybe
it was lust but for the first time since I had been overwhelmed with
sadness, I felt like there was a chance for something better. How
stupid is that?” Harry snorts, “I didn’t even know you.”

What the fuck? There are alarms and lights in Louis’s head and he
feels like he’s barely hanging on as the world spins beneath him.
Harry liked him, genuinely liked him, and he didn’t even know. He
doesn’t even want to chance what that would have meant if he had
noticed Harry back. If something had actually happened between
them. He smiles over the thought without sharing it with Harry. It
feels like fate stepped in to keep them away until now – and never
has Louis believed in fate before.
“That’s not stupid,” Louis says, coming back to the moment. “I’m
flattered actually.”
Harry laughs and shakes his head. “I’d kind of forgotten about it
until Niall called me and asked if you could ride to LA with me. I
probably sounded like I was choking over the phone.”
Louis smiles remembering Niall’s faked enthusiasm about Harry
agreeing to let him tag along. “I can only imagine.” He laughs again
just trying to imagine Harry’s face when he heard Louis’s name
again for the first time since Marine Biology. “It wouldn’t have
worked out, you know,” Louis says. “Even if I had noticed you. I
would have been a terrible boyfriend considering I didn’t want to be
anyone’s boyfriend.”

397
Harry nods and half smiles, “Haven’t you been listening? I would
have been a fucking mess. I needed to work on myself before I
could think about offering another piece of myself to someone.” “I
needed to grow up,” Louis says with a scrunched nose.

“Anyway, that’s my story,” Harry says, smiling. “Impressive,

yeah?”
“Very,” Louis says, shaking his head. “I can’t even believe it.” It
feels a bit like a dream even though it’s definitely not. It’s funny to
think of all the ways he and Harry have orbited and never synced up
until they were thrown in a car with locked doors and taken to the
middle of nowhere.
Louis finishes his drink and shakes his head, still smiling.
“I’m going to find the bathroom,” he says, setting his glass on the
table. “And then buy another drink. You want?”
Harry nods, taking a drink from his glass. “Another one of these,
please.”

“Be back,” Louis says, “Don’t run away.”

Harry laughs, “I’ve spilled my secrets already. I have nothing left.”

Louis grins and twirls away, butterflies erupting in his stomach.
Once upon a time, Harry liked him first. Once upon a time, he was
the one Harry wanted.

*
Louis is gone longer than he intends. He definitely gets lost finding
the bathroom and then there’s a big mob at the bar as he tries to
order drinks though he doesn’t mind the wait, trying to bite down
on his smile like a lunatic.

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All he can think about is fate – the way he and Harry have been
kept apart by tiny twists and turns, all while existing mere blocks,
and sometimes feet, away from each other. Now they’ve crashed
together and even when they tried to keep their space, they haven’t
been able to.
Fuck, Louis is falling face first for Harry and he hasn’t been able to
stop that since it first started. He knows Harry is hesitant, he knows
Harry has been burned worse than Louis ever was but – maybe it’s
time to take the chance. The thought slips away as the bartender
catches his eye, “What do you want, love?” she asks, already
pulling a glass from the rack under the bar.
“Two whiskey sours,” Louis calls over the din of noise, getting out
his credit card in the process.
He feels like there’s champagne in his stomach and sparklers under
his feet as he turns to find Harry. Maybe he’ll tell Harry the things
he’s been thinking or maybe he’ll wait for Harry to say something
first. Surely, he feels the same way. The push and pull between
them, the magnetics they can’t ignore. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
When he turns away from the bar to go back to Harry, he stops cold.
Harry is still where he left him but someone else has taken Louis’s
place. It’s another guy and Louis wouldn’t feel quite so vulnerable if
it wasn’t for the new drink in Harry’s hand, or the way he laughs when
the guy says something. Louis swallows as he watches them across
the bar, his hands tight around the glasses he’s holding. He knows the
feeling is jealously, has felt it curl around his ribs like this but never
over someone who isn’t actually his. Someone who doesn’t feel the
same way about him.
Louis feels the last bit like someone has dropped an ice cube down
the back of his shirt and he inhales slowly, steadily. For a moment,

399
he’d thought he detected something between him and Harry,
something cosmic instead of ordinary but the way Harry smiles at
the stranger across from him makes Louis feel like he doesn’t know
anything at all.
He takes his sweet time crossing the bar, then. He lets his eyes
wander around and goes to admire one of the pieces of art on the far
wall before he realizes the only person he wants to show is Harry
because of-fucking-course it is. Eventually, he resigns himself to
going back to Harry. He doesn’t want to sulk; worse, he doesn’t
want Harry to catch him sulking.
As if he can feel his presence, Harry looks up as Louis comes out
onto the balcony. Louis thinks his eyes light up but he’s also kind of
biased. Part of him wants to walk up and kiss the daylights out of
Harry, make out with him until the other guy goes away. Part of him
wants to act indifferent. Hell, his whole body wishes he could be
indifferent toward Harry. It would make everything a lot easier.
“Hi,” Louis says, when he’s close enough. The other guy follows
Harry’s gaze to Louis and his smile dims though he doesn’t move
away. “Sorry I took so long,” he says, setting the drink next to
Harry. “Looks like you made out okay without me.”
Harry glances at the other guy and then to Louis, shrugs. “This is
Tom. He bought me a Sex on the Beach.”
Louis’s stomach tightens and his eyes go dark. He can’t tell if Harry
remembers their conversation, about the drink he’d by a guy if he
wanted to hook up or if he’s really enjoying the fruity drink. Louis
sets his eyes on Tom instead. Tom is already smiling at him,
something a little sinister like he thinks Harry is going home with
him. As if.

“I’m Louis,” he says, offering his left hand. “Tim is it?”

400
“Tom,” he corrects, taking Louis’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Louis feels a brush of metal on his finger and when he pulls his
hand back sees the ring on his finger. Harry’s ring on his finger –
Harry’s fake wedding ring. He actually smiles at the realization, a
laugh slipping from his lips as he realizes Harry is still wearing the
ring on his left ring finger too. He has so many on, it’s hard to tell
where they all land but Louis only has one. It’s pretty obvious what
it means. If it wasn’t a lie, of course.
“That’s a Sex on the Beach?” He asks, confidence ballooning
behind his ribs.

Tom actually smirks, “It’s a fan favorite.”

“Is it?” Louis smiles and glances at Harry. Harry, for his part, has
the straw between his teeth as he sucks steadily, his eyes bouncing
back and forth between Louis and Tom.
“Tell me, Tom,” Louis says, trying so hard not to smile it almost
hurts, “Do you buy a lot of married men erotic drinks?”
Harry actually chokes on his drink, spluttering and then coughing as
Tom looks pointedly between them – or, their hands as it is.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Louis puts his left hand on Harry’s chest
and taps lightly. His voice is sticky sweet even if the concern is
genuine as Harry catches his breath again.
“I didn’t realize,” Tom says, shaking his head. “I just thought you
were hot, man.” He looks to Harry, “Nice body.”
It makes Louis see red as Harry drapes a hand around his hips like
he can sense it. “We’re on our honeymoon, asshole,” he spits at
Tom. He curls his lip, “Fuck off.”

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Tom backs away like a cornered cat and Harry bursts out laughing
as Louis stares after him until he disappaers.
“I forgot about the rings,” Harry says, giggling. He tries to stop and
can’t, busting up all over again.
Louis smiles, attention flagging from Tom and coming back to
Harry. “Yeah, well, I have to protect what’s mine,” he says. “Even if
it’s a fake marriage, it got us a honeymoon suite.”
Harry laughs and sets his drink on the table next to them, next to the
whiskey sour Louis bought him. “I think it was something else,”
Harry says, turning to face Louis. “I think you were jealous.”

Louis shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. “Maybe.”

Harry nudges his face closer to Louis’s until their lips catch in a
slow kiss. “I think that’s really fucking hot,” Harry whispers.
Louis reaches out for the table and puts his glass down, his hands
going to Harry’s hips where they belong. “Oh, do you?” He says
back. “A little turned on right now?”
Harry wiggles his eyebrows and Louis kisses him, silences
whatever else he’s planning to say. Louis stays pressed against the
balcony railing as Harry kisses him back, their lips sweet and slick
with alcohol as they move together. Louis scratches his nails lightly
over Harry’s back and then down to the curve of his ass. He slips
his hands in Harry’s back pockets and squeezes, rolling Harry’s hips
forward. Harry stutters a breath against Louis’s mouth and then
Louis pulls away with one more quick kiss. He leaves the Sex on
the Beach on the table and hands Harry his whiskey sour with a
sweet smile.

“Fuck,” Harry breathes, his cheeks and neck already red.

402
Louis takes a sip of his drink and licks his lips. He likes getting
Harry worked up like this but he knows he has to be careful too –
some of the ways Harry looks and sounds, only belong to him and
he doesn’t particularly want to share.
They don’t last too much longer at the bar before they want to head
back to the hotel, slightly tipsy and warm as they wander the
streets. Louis holds Harry’s hand because he wants to. Tonight has
him in a whirlwind of emotions but holding Harry seems like the
steady constant he needs.
“You know what we should do,” Harry says as the approach the
elevator in the lobby.

“What should we do?” Louis asks over a yawn.

“We should take a bath.”
Louis kind of wants to say no, kind of just wants to go to bed. But
when he sees Harry’s big stupid smile and shining eyes, he just
says, “We should.”

*
“Do not.” Louis says with his pants unbuttoned, one finger pointing
at Harry.
Harry is down to his boxers already, soft around the edges from the
hazy heat of the full tub. He has a fist full of rose petals in either
hand and a sheepish smile as he opens his hands and lets them all
flutter into the bath water.

“Oops,” he says, smiling over his words.

Louis rolls his eyes and goes back to taking off of his jeans. Harry
has already put enough bath gel into the water to make it foamy and

403
now there are red and pink dots all over the top of the bubbles from
the roses. It looks like a photoshoot, not relaxation after a night out.
Louis pauses to stare as Harry shimmies out of his boxers and the
climbs into the bath with his giraffe legs and settle into the water.
He sighs as the water envelopes his shoulders, his eyes closing.
Louis undresses quickly and then steps into the tub on the opposite
side; he smirks when he sees Harry watching. Slowly, he sits and
then scoots against the back wall, sinking into the heat.
“Oh fuck,” he breathes, his head tipping back against the porcelain
edge. Their legs overlap in the middle but the tub is wide enough
they don’t touch more than a gentle brush every once in a while. “I
wish I had a bath tub in my apartment,” Harry says. “I’d never
leave.”

“Like a mermaid?”

“Like a mermaid,” Harry says softly, his eyes closing again.

Louis feels warm and bubbly, pleasantly tipsy and sleepy. Harry
doesn’t seem inclined to talk and Louis doesn’t mind the quiet as it
seeps over them.
He finds his mind wandering to Harry on campus again, where he
always seems to get stuck. His current fixation is on Harry’s
apartment – whether he has roommates or lives alone. He tries to
picture what it might look like and gets stuck on Harry’s Instagram
aesthetic of all things. He imagines clean lines and order, a lot of
books and records in the shelves. Louis thinks there might be a
fireplace or maybe a big basket of cozy blankets. A lot of sunlight
and notebooks scattered on the kitchen table. He wonders if Harry
has a tea kettle and if he eats ice cream out of the container. He

404
swallows and opens his eyes to ask but Harry is softly snoring with
his head lolled to the side, his chest rising and falling slowly.
“Are you asleep, babe?” Louis asks into the quiet, his own voice
sleepy. Harry’s lack of response is answer enough.
Louis gets out of the bath and finds a pair of towels, drying himself
off thoroughly and then putting on one of the robes he spotted
hanging by the tub earlier. It’s fluffy and absurd but he smiles as he
ties it around his waist. The one left on the hook is pink and though
Louis hates heteronormativity, he thinks Harry may be pleased with
the color.
Louis squats by Harry’s head and runs his fingers back through his
hair slowly, drawing them in circles. He does it again as Harry’s
eyes begin to flutter. He kisses Harry’s pink lips softly, not able to
stop himself as Harry opens his eyes.
“Ready for bed, darling?”
Harry closes his eyes and inhales deeply. “Sleeping here, Lou. I’m a
mermaid.”

Louis laughs and kisses Harry’s forehead quickly. “I forgot.”

Harry is slow to finally stand up out of the bath though he smiles
when Louis holds open a towel for him to wrap up in. “You’re
sweet to me,” he says as he wraps it around himself. He kisses
Louis deeply in the haze of heat, pressing in close with his tongue
and then drawing back.
Louis undoes the plug in the bath to let the water out, the roses
pooling sadly around the drain.
Hopefully the cleaning crew doesn’t hate them in the morning.

405
When he glances over, Harry has the pink bathrobe on but he hasn’t
tied it so it hangs open. Louis licks his bottom lip as he stares, a bit
infatuated by the way Harry’s ink looks when he can see it all at
once, the way his milky skin makes it stand out.

“Like what you see?” Harry asks and Louis rolls his eyes.
“I’m too tired to do anything about it,” Louis says with a shrug.
Harry walks toward him with swaying hips and pouty lips while
Louis laughs, covering his eyes. “Come to bed, little sex kitten.”
Harry stops walking and his Blue Steel face melts into a giggle.
They shed the robes as they get in bed, the sheets cool against their
skin, smooth like silk. It’s the biggest bed they’ve been in by far but
they still crowd in the middle, Harry’s head on Louis’s chest,
Louis’s fingers drawing aimless circles on his back as they fall
asleep.

406
 Day 13 & 14

DAY THIRTEEN

Sedona, Arizona

The first thing Louis feels is fire.

The heat circles around in his stomach and then pulls up toward his
ribs before simmering. The second time it happens he opens his
eyes abruptly,
The room is bright in the morning light of sleeping in but Louis
doesn’t focus on that; instead, he sees Harry between his legs, his
hands holding on Louis’s hips, his pretty pink lips around Louis’s
cock.
“Oh my fucking god,” Louis rasps as his head falls back against the
pillow. The fire makes sense now as it rises again when Harry takes
him deeper into his mouth and then pulls off to swirl his tongue
over the tip.
“Baby,” Louis breathes as he goes up on his elbows for a better
view. He hasn’t gotten tired of seeing Harry going down on him, his
hollowed cheeks and obscene mouth whenever he sticks his tongue
out.

407
His hair is messy from sleep and dried bathwater, his cheek even
has a crease from the pillow like he hasn’t been awake that long.
The thought of him waking up and immediately crawling between
Louis’s legs to blow him has Louis falling back against the bed
again. He reaches out for Harry’s hair, running his fingers through
the tangles as Harry works him over with his mouth.
“You’re so good at this,” Louis whispers, almost to himself. Harry
hears anyway and preens under the attention, moaning lowly. Louis
raises an eyebrow, “You like compliments?” Somehow Harry
manages to roll his eyes with his mouth wrapped around Louis’s
cock but Louis thinks he’s pegged him anyway.
“We’ll discuss later,” Louis says with the breath punched out of him
as Harry doubles down his effort and adds his hand into the mix.
It starts in Louis’s toes, curling against his feet and then it zips up
his spine to his stomach, all of the fire collecting in a ball that
shivers against the bottom of his ribs.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” Louis chants, his back arching as he tugs on
Harry’s hair. Harry hums around his cock and that’s all it takes for
him to orgasm, body convulsing as his eyes roll back in his head,
his hips pressing up to Harry’s mouth.
He’s gasping for air by the time he comes back to himself, his heart
pounding when he opens his eyes. Harry’s face fills his vision
having kissed his way up his stomach. He has a smug smirk on his
face and Louis has to pull him down for a kiss. “That’s a nice way
to wake up,” Louis murmurs against his lips.
“Thought it might be,” Harry says, kissing him two times quick and
pulling back. “Considering you slept naked, it seemed like the best
use of my time.”

408
Louis laughs and tugs Harry down for another kiss. His hands trail
over Harry’s back down to the lowest curve of his waist. “Oh look,
you did too.” He presses down gently until Harry falls into him, his
hips pressing against Louis.
“Thought you might be hard,” Louis whispers as Harry’s cock drags
in the crease of his thigh. He pulls his hips down again and Harry
gasps at the friction. “Does sucking me off always get you this
hot?” Louis’s voice is conversational even as Harry starts to rub off
on his leg, tiny gasps and his teeth digging into his lip. “Guess so,”
Louis mutters, using his hands to help Harry along.
He lets his right hand smooth lower, over the curve of Harry’s ass
and to his thigh where he dives between Harry’s legs and then back
up. Harry watches him with heavy eyes as he keeps his hips
moving, his lips parted. Louis doesn’t break eye contact as he runs
his fingers up Harry’s crack, pressing in softly with his fingers
where he knows Harry wants him most. It’s warm and dry so Louis
doesn’t try anything tricky, just presses his fingers down gently and
smiles when Harry breaks into pieces, his mouth opening in a silent
yell as his eyes clench shut and he shoots hot and wet all over
Louis’s stomach and his own.
Louis smirks as he runs his hand up Harry’s back scratching softly,
“There we go,” he whispers. Harry falls against him in a warm heap
and Louis laughs, kissing any part of Harry’s face he can and then
humming in content.
Breakfast is ordered from the room service menu - waffles with
strawberries, a carafe of orange juice and a bottle of champagne, a
plate of bacon. They haven't gotten out of bed when the bell to the
room rings and they both stare at each other before Harry sighs and
gets out of bed to answer.

409
For a moment, Louis thinks he's going to answer naked before he
grabs up his pink robe from the night before and puts it on. "Did
you remember to tie it?" Louis calls after him, laughing when Harry
stops to do just that.

There's slight murmurs at the door and then it latches closed. Louis
watches the cart of food come around the corner followed by Harry
who has the robe hanging off his shoulder and his lips pouted like a
porn star as he comes into view fully. He breaks into a smile before
Louis does but Louis laughs louder, kicking his feet against the bed.
Harry comes over and kisses him - it's too quick for Louis's liking
so he grabs Harry by the lapels of his robe and kisses him harder,
nearly topples him back into bed in the process.

"Let's eat on the balcony," Harry says as he pulls back with a grin.
"It's a beautiful day."

It's absolutely not their honeymoon but as Louis gets up to find his
own robe, it kind of feels like it could be.

They eat on the balcony with the resort's brochure flattened out
between them as they try to plan their day.

"Do we have to act married all day?" Harry asks, licking a bit of
whip cream off his lip.

"Debatable," Louis says. "If we see the guy who gave us the free
room, definitely."

"Greg," Harry supplies.

410
"Yes, Greg." Louis nods, "Other than that, no one really knows."
Harry holds up his hand, "We have the rings."

"We do," Louis says. "But we could always pretend to be the

newlyweds already in a fight who make it awkward for everyone
else."

Harry actually cackles as he refills his mimosa. "I think we should

play to our strengths, which is acting married."

Louis isn't sure what to say to that so he just agrees. It's easier than
unpacking what Harry has just said.

*
They spend the morning on a hike organized by the resort though
it's less like an organized field trip and more like supervised
wilderness exploration. The group heads into the forest together and
then breaks off into their own groups on the path. Harry has his
camera so they hang toward the back, not wanting to impede
everyone else.
Louis doesn't miss the handful of times people look back at them,
smiling sweetly or saying a comment to whoever they’re with.
Louis feels self-conscious about what their seeing even as he smiles
back. He wonders if they can tell they aren't really married. He
wonders if they can tell he's starting to fall in love. He wonders if
they can tell Harry is not.

The path opens out to a wider meadow looking over the valley
complete with wild flowers and pollen that seems to make everyone
around them sneeze. Louis thought Arizona was too dry for
allergies but Sedona is proving him wrong.

411
There are bees, too and Louis keeps a steady watch on them to
make sure they don't get too close to Harry. He swats one away
while Harry is in the middle of a story and Harry smiles slowly.
"What was that?"
"A bee," Louis says. "I don't want your throat swelling shut, you
know."

Harry is quiet and then he starts laughing, maybe remembering the

way their trip started. "We've come a long way, huh?" He says, his
smile just for Louis.

"Both literally and figuratively," Louis says to be a smartass.

Harry rolls his eyes and then leans into kiss Louis. It's just a brush
of lips before they head further into the trail but it wakes up the
butterflies in Louis's stomach again. With each passing moment,
each kiss, he's not sure how he's going to make it out of this road
trip with his heart fully intact.

"You can change into robes in the room to your left and then we'll
meet you on the patio," Darlene the receptionist says as she hands
Louis and Harry two white robes after their hike. They headed
straight for the wellness center once they finished, bodies stiff and
skin sticky. "Think about what areas you'd like us to focus on and
we can discuss before we begin."
"Is it a naked massage?" Harry whispers once they're in the
secluded room.

412
"It can be," Louis says, pulling off his shirt.
Luckily there's a shower to get off all of their grossness from the
hike before they get all rubbed up with oil and salt scrubs. Louis is
quite looking forward to the entire process. He turns on the shower
and tests the water before stepping out of his shoes and pulling off
his socks. He's putting them in the locker when he realizes Harry is
still standing in the middle of the room.

"You can wear your boxers, babe," he says, pushing off his shorts.

"What if I get hard?"

Louis blinks and swallows. "From them touching you?"

"No," Harry squishes his lips together. "Just like, being around you
does weird things to my body. I just stared at your ass for two hours
in running shorts."

Louis's laughter echoes around the small room until he covers his
mouth with his hand. "Sorry," he says. "You're ridiculous. I'm pretty
sure you can control your boner for sixty minutes." Harry sighs like
it will be the hardest thing he's ever done as he pulls off his own
sweaty shirt.

"I can get you off in the shower before we go out there," Louis says
as he steps out of his boxers.
He goes into the shower and winks when he notices Harry looking
at his ass again.

"No," Harry says forcefully. "We are not defacing their shower."

413
"Defacing," Louis laughs as he lets the warm water rush over him.
"Stop making fun of me," Harry whines, pulling off his shorts and
kicking off his shoes simultaneously. He trips and bumps the wall
which only makes Louis laugh harder. "Why?" Louis asks, sticking
his head out of the shower. "Does it make you hard?"

Harry shakes his head as he finishes undressing. "I hate being fake
married to you."

"That is false," Louis says, stepping out of the shower and reaching
for a towel to dry off. He could stay under the warm water for hours
but he's quite looking forward to someone manhandling his muscles
into submission. He leaves the water on for Harry. "You love it."

Harry rolls his eyes as he passes by and Louis laughs. He pinches

Harry's ass and says, "See you out there, sweet cheeks," as Harry
disappears into the shower.

The honeymoon massages take place on a private patio with just

two massage tables and a curving creek just a few feet away. Louis
smiles as he takes his place on the table, adjusting the sheet over
him and waiting for Harry and the masseuses to arrive. He lays on
his stomach with the sheet low over his ass, choosing to go naked
because he's getting a free massage and it feels celebratory.

"This is so fucking lovely," Harry whispers to announce his

presence.

Louis turns his head and smiles at him, "I know. Perfect
honeymoon, yeah?"

414
Harry smirks, "Yeah." He kisses the side of Louis's forehead before
losing his robe and climbing on the table. He's gloriously naked,
Louis notes with glee.

"Stopped worrying about getting hard?" Louis asks, his lips

twitching.

"I'll just stay on my stomach," Harry says, adjusting the sheet. "No
one has to know."

"Dirty boy," Louis whispers just as two masseuses enter through a

side door, smiling at them both.

*
They eat cheese and apples on the patio after their massages both
agreeing they feel like puddles of goo instead of humans.

"I'm just going to start pretending to be a newlywed wherever I go,"

Harry says after glancing around briefly. "This is amazing."

"You don't have to be a newlywed to get a massage, H," Louis

points out.

"A free massage?" Harry raises his eyebrows, "That's not easy to
come by, you know."

"You know what?" Louis takes a bite of his apple, "My mom
always got free shit after she had a baby, too. Or they would give
the older kids free stuff to make us leave her alone. I remember
getting a lot of ice cream cones when the girls were little."

"Ah," Harry hums, "So I should start saying I've just had a baby?"
He grins when Louis narrows his eyes at him.

415
Darlene from earlier steps out onto the porch and smiles slowly.
"So, you're the newlyweds I keep hearing about. I didn’t realize
when you first came in."

Louis's bite of apple goes down the wrong part of his throat and he
coughs to clear it while Harry says, "That's us."

"What have you heard?" Louis asks once his breathing way is clear.
He tries his best not to sound paranoid.

"All good things," she says with a little smirk.

Louis and Harry both glance at each other questioningly.

"I actually came out here to ask if you'd like pedicures," she says.
"We had a couple of spots open up and I figured everyone's favorite
newlyweds might be interested?"

"I don't think so -" Louis starts as Harry says, "That would be
lovely," at the same time.

"Really, babe?" Louis asks, glancing at Harry. "You want a

pedicure?"

"I think it sounds nice," Harry says, smiling like he knows Louis
isn't going to tell him no in front of Darlene.
"Sounds like we're getting pedicures," Louis says turning back with
a tight smile.

"You're learning quickly," Darlene says and it takes a moment after

she's disappeared for him to realize she's referencing his
compliance with Harry's request. His eye roll is a bit delayed but
Harry catches it with a laugh.

416
Louis's feet are pedicure virgins and don't take to their first time
very easily. He laughs when his feet are touched and squeals a bit
when the technician use something that looks like a potato peeler.
Harry takes his pedicure in stride, using the massage chair and
closing his eyes as his feet are worked on.

"Do you do this a lot?" Louis asks when Harry finally looks over at
him.

"Sometimes," Harry says. "I like having my feet taken care of. Not
in a weird way," he says when Louis wriggles his eyebrows.

"Is this part of your Saturday routine that you didn't tell me about?"

Harry laughs. "No, I like to go on weeknights actually. After a long

lecture or after a test. It's not very expensive and it's relaxing. I like
to pamper myself on a budget, you know." It's quiet for a beat
before he adds, "You should come sometime."

Louis keeps his breathing steady as he says, "I'd like that." He

doesn't know if he should be cutting ties to Harry when he gets
back or holding him at arm’s length but he doesn't want to take the
time to debate it. He just does what feels right and tying his future
plans to Harry even in the vaguest sense feels the best to him.

Louis doesn't do a color on his nails and Harry does such a light
pink it still looks natural with a little extra sheen to the topcoat.
Louis kind of likes it.

They march back up to their room with water bottles and

complimentary snacks from the front desk, somehow already
exhausted from their day.

417
"We should nap," Harry says when they let themselves in and Louis
can't help but agree. They get on the bed as they are, Louis
wrapping around Harry and letting his hand fall to Harry's stomach
where it always is when they lay like this.

"Louis," Harry whispers as they start to drift.

"What?"

"I'm really happy right now," he says. "Very happy."

Butterflies and fireworks ignite in Louis's stomach and he indulges

rather than confuse himself with questions. "So am I," he says
quietly. He kisses Harry's shoulder. "So am I."

“I feel important.”
Louis laughs as he adjusts his chair closer to the table, the host
disappearing back inside. When Louis had given his name a few
moments earlier, the host had nodded wisely and then led them to
the back of the restaurant and out to a private balcony, big enough
to hold a couple of tables but only having one. The balcony
overlooks a grove of trees seeming to go on forever under the
darkness of the early evening. Louis had been staring out over them
as the host pulled Harry’s chair out for him and then cleared his
throat to do the same for Louis.
“I can’t remember the last time someone pulled a chair out for me,”
Louis says lowly.

“Maybe they think we’re royalty.”

418
Louis nods, “Yeah, maybe,” before rolling his eyes. “As long as
they don’t ask for a proof of marriage certificate, we’re golden.”
“As if you wouldn’t find a way out of that one,” Harry says
conspiratorially.
“Well, they do take four to six weeks after the ceremony to process,
technically,” Louis says with a shrug. “So, they could ask, I guess.”
“See?” Harry picks up his menu and smiles, “You can get out of
anything.”
They’d woken up from their nap in a state of disarray and slight
confusion at how long they’d been asleep. Harry said it felt like a
month, at least. Then they pulled on jeans and nicer looking shirts
before trooping out into the hallway. Louis had laughed far too
loudly when he pointed out Harry’s shirt was inside out. “And you
buttoned it like that,” Louis said, shaking his head. “How?”
“What wine should we get?” Harry asks now, pulling Louis back.
His dark blue shirt looked lovely inside out but now Louis can see
the silver stitching in the candlelight and he thinks it looks even
better.
“What one do you want?” Louis asks, his chin resting on his palm
as he smiles. God, he thinks, Harry is just so lovely. The way he
looks at the wine menu with his eyebrows pulled together, his
bottom lip pushed out like he can’t quite decide what to choose.
Louis could watch him for ages and never get bored. For once the
thought doesn’t ignite his lungs with acid that makes him recoil.

“Are you listening to me?”

Louis blinks and hears the faintest echo of Harry saying something.
“No,” he says.

419
Harry swallows, “What’s going on? You’re being weird.”
Louis thinks he sounds almost nervous - as if he has a reason to be.
“I was admiring you,” Louis says, truthfully. “How lovely you are.”
Harry balks and clears his throat. “Oh, well. By all means,
continue.” He smiles and looks back at the menu before giggling
and looking back up. “But also tell me what wine to order because
they all look the same to me.”
*
They end up with a light Pinot Noir they pick at random that ends
up pairing nicely with the lobster they order. Not that Louis has any
intimate knowledge of what a good pairing should be but the waiter
tells them so. He also tells them they should order the lobster and
they exchange one simple look and do just that.
“If it’s shit, we just go order macaroni and cheese from room
service because it’s all free,” Harry whispers excitedly.
“If that happens, we’re not ordering mac and cheese,” Louis says
leaning back in his chair. “I’m maxed on my orange sauce intake
for at least a month.”
Harry’s lips twitch but he doesn’t fight Louis. “What’s your favorite
snack to make at like, midnight on a Wednesday?”
Louis lifts his wine and hums, readjusting in his seat. He loves
when they do this - ask questions so far out of left field they’re
almost comical. “What am I doing on this Wednesday at midnight?”
“Studying,” Harry says. “Or working on a project. Something not
fun.”
Louis sighs and closes his eyes, thinking. “Am I making it myself?
Or is someone cooking?”

420
Harry laughs lightly; he probably didn’t expect Louis to drag it on.
“Someone else can make it,” he allows.
“Who is the someone else? Last year that would have probably
been my roommate, Liam, this year I’m living alone so -”
“Oh my god,” Harry cuts him off. “It’s me. I’m there, making you
a snack at midnight on a Wednesday.”

Louis nods then smirks. “What are you wearing?”

“Louis,” Harry tries to be serious even though he starts smiling
halfway through Louis’s name. “Sorry, sorry, I’m setting the scene.”
Louis licks his bottom lip. “Are we at my place or yours?” “You
would be awful at phone sex,” Harry says, seemingly out of
nowhere.
“You don’t like scene building during phone sex?” Louis asks,
incredulous. “What does that get you? Like, yeah, baby, love when
you suck me off, but where are we? Am I pulling your hair? Is this
desperate, are we alone? These are all serious questions.”

Harry blinks a few times, his lips parted. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am,” Louis says, smug. “And you like who I am.”
Harry hides his smile into the edge of his wine. “Will you just tell
me what snack I’m making you on a Wednesday at midnight?”
Louis has to give Harry credit for keeping track of a conversation
he ran off the tracks from a few tangents ago. “Oh, yeah. I’m not
picky. Sometimes I get Taco Bell or a bag of hot Cheetos.”
Harry opens and then shuts his mouth. “So I wouldn’t be making
you anything?”

“You could ride in the car with me on the way to Taco Bell?”

421
Harry laughs and shakes his head. “Thanks.”

Louis smiles indulgently, “You’re welcome, darling.”

They’re interrupted when their food comes, steamy lobster and
smashed red potatoes with roasted vegetables. Louis wants to ask
Harry his favorite snack but is forced to wait until Harry has the all
the photos of his dinner that he wants. He takes a picture of Louis
through the candlelight that looks ridiculously cool and Louis
makes him send it to him immediately.
“I don’t even have your number,” Harry muses, handing over his
phone.
It hadn’t even crossed Louis’s mind they haven’t exchanged
numbers but he’s thankful neither one of them fell into the Grand
Canyon or somehow got otherwise separated. Not that either of
them would survive a fall into the Grand Canyon but, whatever. Not
the point.
He saves his contact as just his name and then feels lame about it so
he edits it to add a taco emoji for no good reason. He texts himself
afterward and then hands the phone back to Harry who flips
through the screen for a moment before setting it down.
“Were you nervous?” Louis asks, smirking as he presses his fork
into the shelled lobster.
Harry rolls his eyes. “Isn’t that second nature when someone else
has your phone, even if you have nothing to hide?”
“I didn’t see anything,” Louis says. “And if you were worried about
me seeing your nudes,” Harry opens his mouth but Louis presses
on, “I’ve already seen them in real life.”

422
Harry gapes and then glances around as if to make sure they’re still
the only ones on the balcony.
Louis laughs. “I don’t have nudes.”
Four words send a trigger from the stem of Louis’s brain to the
front of his mind and he points his fork at Harry. “You do.”

Harry widens his eyes, “I think I would know better than you, Lou.”
Louis laughs, a black and white image standing out like a stark
beacon in his mind. “You have that artsy BDSM shot. I saw on your
Instagram.” He can’t believe it’s taken until now to mention it
though he can’t think of any other time it has been mildly
appropriate to bring up. Not that this moment is the best but he
thinks they’re past the point of trying to be appropriate with each
other.
“Those are not nudes,” Harry says quickly, his cheeks filing to pink
in the candlelight.
Louis lets Harry takes a bite of his meal before he raises his
eyebrows. “Those? There’s more than one?”
“I knew I shouldn’t have posted it on Instagram,” Harry says
shaking his head. He takes another bite and chews slowly.

“Are you going to leave me hanging?”

“What?” Harry squawks his answer. “What am I supposed to be
telling you?”

“How about why you had a BDSM photoshoot?”

Harry laughs, “Would you stop calling it that?”

Louis raises his eyebrows and narrows his eyes. “What should I be
calling it?”

423
“A portfolio project?”

“For a BDSM convention?”

Harry sets down his fork to take a sip of wine and looks away. “My
friend was doing his final project for his Photography major and he
asked me to be in his portrait series.”

“Your friend?”

“He’s my roommate too”

“He?”

“Am I on the stand?” Harry asks tilting his head. “I don’t like it.”
“Sorry,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair once he realizes
he’d been leaning in toward Harry. “I’m curious.”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” Harry says. “He just needed a portrait series
and wanted it to be something different than like, ordinary
portraits.”
“I’ll say,” Louis says, steadfastly not thinking about any other
photos that may exist from the shoot.

“I liked how they turned out and he did too.”

Louis licks his bottom lip. “I thought maybe a boyfriend had taken
them for you. Or a girlfriend.”

“No,” Harry says, shaking his head. “Definitely not.”

“You weren’t dating your roommate then?” Harry looks so fucking
blissed in the photo, Louis still has it imprinted on his mind

“Zayn?” Harry laughs, “No.”

424
“Wait. Zayn Malik?” Louis asks lowly, not sure how many Zayn’s
who are majoring in Photography exist on campus.

“Yes.”
Louis shakes his head, “He’s like, a model on his own.” “You
know him?” Harry tilts his head to the side.
“Kind of,” Louis says. “Friend of a friend kind of thing. Hard to
forget a face like that. He should have starred in his own shoot.”
“Right,” Harry allows, “But he couldn’t take pictures of himself for
a portfolio.”

Louis nods, “So he had to take naked photos of you in a collar?”

Harry laughs, “I was wearing jeans, you perv.”

Louis shakes his head, “Nope. I don’t like this at all.”

Harry presses his lips together and then they slip into a smile. “Is
that jealousy I detect?”
“No,” Louis says, too quickly. Harry narrows his eyes and Louis
looks away. “Maybe,” he says once he looks back. Is this a step
toward admitting how he feels, he wonders. Telling Harry the
thought of someone else seeing him the way Louis does makes his
stomach warm in the wrong way?

“Zayn is straight,” Harry says, lifting his chin. “Just so you know.”

“That’s fine,” Louis says. “I’m not judging.”

Harry smiles. “Yeah? If I told you we did photoshoots like that all
the time?”

Louis stares at Harry without emotion. “I’d be fine with that.”

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Harry laughs and it whips through the patio like warmth under a
blanket. “We don’t,” he says.
“Can we talk about something else?” Louis takes a bite of his
dinner.
“Yes,” Harry says. “I don’t even know how we got here.”

“Nude photos,” Louis supplies. “Of which you have none.”

Harry smirks, “Or do I?”

Louis shakes his head firmly. “We’re going to safer ground.
Favorite snack on a Tuesday night at ten. Ready, go.”

Harry grins. “What am I doing on Tuesday night at ten?”

Louis laughs for five full seconds before he can answer. They go
back and forth for a few minutes before Harry decides if he was at
home on a Tuesday and Louis was going to make him a snack, he’d
take a break from whatever he was working on so they could make
cookies. Louis tries his best not to be charmed into complete
oblivion.

They take their time through dinner and finish nearly ninety
minutes later, forking out a lot of money for the tip for their free
meal. Harry runs back to throw more bills on the table when the
host gives them a box of chocolate covered strawberries to go.
“We literally can’t ever leave this place,” Harry whispers as they
walk back toward the main building.

426
“No,” Louis agrees seriously. “We’ll have to say our trip to Paris
has been cancelled because we love their resort too much.”

“Paris?”

Louis nods, “Yeah, that’s the next leg of our fake honeymoon.”

Harry grins, “Aw, babe, you spoil me.”

Louis laughs and it only gets louder when Harry knocks their hips
together and nearly sends them toppling.

Back in their room Harry hands the strawberries to Louis and

immediately takes off his jeans.

"What is happening?" Louis asks slowly, tracing Harry's

movements with just his eyes.

Harry laughs as he takes off his shirt and lets it fall to the ground.
"Before my mom met my stepdad," Harry says, "When it was just
her and me and my sister, we used to get dessert at restaurants and
take it to go. Then we'd go home and get all cozy and eat dessert
while we watched a movie."

"Is that what you're doing?" Louis asks, half smiling as Harry pulls
on a pair of sweatpants and a threadbare grey t-shirt.

"Yes," Harry says, grinning. "Care to join me?"

Louis laughs as he steps on the backs of his shoes to get them off.
He drops the box of strawberries on the bed and goes to his own

427
bag to find some clothes to change into. It feels like it's been the
perfect day already. Fuck, he woke up with his cock in Harry's
mouth and everything since then has only gotten better. Chocolate
covered strawberries in sweatpants, in bed, with Harry is the ideal
ending.

*
They end up sitting in the middle of the bed, on top of the covers
and pressed together from hips to ankles, the box of strawberries
cradled on Louis's thighs.

"Are strawberries supposed to be sexy?" Harry asks, biting into one

with his front teeth. The chocolate crumbles and the berry squirts,
Harry's lips going red.

"I think so," Louis says, taking a smaller bite out of his berry. "Not
sure how," he laughs at the chocolate all over the edges of Harry's
mouth. He uses his thumb to curve the edge of Harry's lips and licks
over the chocolate that comes off. He misses the way Harry tracks
the movement with easy eyes.

"I could feed it to you," Harry suggests, always the most thoughtful.

Louis presses his lips together. He can't think of any person he

would possibly let feed him a strawberry in bed. Any person
besides Harry. "Alright."

"Yeah?" Harry seems surprised. He smiles when Louis nods and

sets about finding the best berry, wiggling his fingers over the box
of them.
He settles on one of the medium sized ones and plucks it from the
box. Louis watches as he moves the box from Louis's lap and sets it

428
on the nightstand only to replace it with himself in Louis's lap, one
knee on either side of his hips.

"Oh?" Louis raises his eyebrow.

"I take my strawberries very seriously," Harry says, making sure

he's holding just the stem in his fingertips.
"Clearly." Louis swallows, happy to have Harry's warm weight on
him. His hands fall to Harry's thighs and he rubs his thumbs in
gentle circles, looking up into Harry's eyes.

"Ready?" Harry asks, not breaking eye contact.

"I think so?" Louis laughs over his words. "You're making this feel
like something bigger than a berry." He watches the amusement
flicker over Harry's face.

Slowly, Harry lowers the strawberry toward Louis's mouth. Louis

alternates between the strawberry and watching Harry's face, his
concentrated brows and his lip drawn under his teeth. Louis tilts his
head back further, parting his lips slightly. He hums when Harry
kisses him, slow, already tasting of strawberries. He pulls back with
a smile and Louis licks his bottom lip.

"You're quite good at this," Louis murmurs.

"Yeah?" Harry's eyes crinkle when he smiles. "Do you feel

seduced?"

"Is that what you're doing?" Louis challenges. Harry dismisses him
with a shake of his head.

He starts his process of lowering the strawberry again, this time

brushing the edge around Louis's lips without letting him get his

429
mouth on it. It's a testament to Harry's skills that Louis thinks it
feels like an erotic blow job, a tease with a chocolate prize. He tilts
his head further and Harry pulls the strawberry back, smiling
smugly.

Louis smirks. "You're a tease."

Harry smiles and then actually laughs. "Here, I'll let you have it this
time." He adjusts his hips and hold the strawberry right against
Louis's lips. "Open?"

Louis does, slowly, not breaking eye contact like an elaborate

version of foreplay with this single strawberry, a sensual bubble
settling over them. His blood is already thrumming for Harry, his
mind already getting Harry naked for him.

But when Harry pulls the strawberry back and pops it in his own
mouth, the bubble deflates and fills with Harry's laughter as he
chews.

Louis shakes his head, "You little shit."

He waits until Harry swallows and then he tackles him backwards

against the bed, the other part of Harry's strawberry flying across
the room. Where it lands, neither of them notice.

"You're such a fucking tease," Louis says as he tickles Harry's sides

and up under his arms. Harry writhes and tries to kick but Louis
holds him down with his thighs on either side of him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Harry gasps between his laughter as Louis
tickles his hips and over his stomach, relentless.

"I really don't think that's true," Louis says, grinning so hard his
cheeks hurt.

430
Harry tries to pinch Louis's hip but Louis catches him, pinning both
of Harry's hands over his head and leaning close so their chests
touch.

"Got you," he whispers.

He can feel Harry's chest against his, the thrum of his heartbeat
through their thin shirts, his eyes tracing Louis's face the way they
always do when they get this close.

"Got me," Harry whispers.

Louis kisses him then because he's faced with no better alternative;
nothing he would rather do. Harry sighs right into it, tasting like a
chocolate strawberry as he opens his mouth further. Louis could get
lost kissing him, his plush lips and the way his body relaxes. Even
his hands pinned over his head relax under Louis's grip as they kiss.
Louis doesn't think he knows anyone who likes being kissed the
way Harry does and he won’t be the one to deny him what he
wants.

He slows their kisses to gentle pecks as he kisses the line of Harry's

jaw to his neck, his hands sliding from Harry's wrists to his biceps
and then shoulders and down. He starts lightly sucking a trail along
his neck as he rolls Harry's shirt up slowly.

They've kissed aimlessly to explore but tonight Louis has intention.

They're in a bed bigger than his whole apartment, and he wants to
take Harry apart on it. Harry is on the same page, helping to pull his
shirt off as Louis traces the lines of the ferns on his hips and presses
his nose and mouth above the waistband of Harry's sweats. He bites
the thin skin under Harry's bellybutton and shivers with the cut off
sound Harry makes.

431
Harry takes some of his own control, too, sitting up to get Louis out
of his shirt and then kissing along his collarbones as Louis plays
with Harry's hair, his fingers twisting and tugging on the longer bits
when Harry bites his nipple.
Louis gets impatient and lays Harry back again, kissing him and
slipping his hand down the front of Harry's pants to cup him
through his boxers, palming the half-hardness there. Harry gasps
against his mouth when Louis rubs harder, then presses his face to
Louis's neck when he goes harder still.

Harry helps in taking off his sweats when Louis starts to roll them
down, kicking and flailing his legs around while making them both
laugh. Louis loves the way they laugh even like this, the way
laughter fits in as easily as the teasing, the heat laced with
something charming. It's ecstasy, Louis thinks.

Louis takes off Harry's boxers in a slower fashion than his sweats,
thankful the lights are still on as he studies each curve and mark of
Harry's body, the freckle on the highest crease of his thigh, the scar
on his knee. Harry is hard already, flushed pink and wet. Louis licks
his lips. He lifts Harry's legs one at a time to free his boxers, kissing
the inside of each ankle once he finishes.

Harry watches him steadily, his hands drawing over his stomach
aimlessly as Louis undresses him. Louis sits his legs down and
smiles, crawling up over him to kiss him hard, licking into his
mouth because he can't help himself.

He kisses a steady line down Harry's chest and pauses at the thin
trail of hair disappearing where his waistband would be. "I want
to try something," Louis says quietly, meeting Harry's eyes.
"Okay?"

432
Harry nods, half smiling. "You could convince me to move to
Antarctica right now, if you wanted."
Louis laughs. "Alright, babe. Tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?"
Harry swallows and nods, his hands dropping to his sides.
Louis goes back to making his trail down to Harry's cock, pausing
to lick at his tip gently, smiling at the way Harry tenses his hips
from pressing up. Louis continues further, kissing along Harry's
balls as he slowly spreads his legs. Harry must have thought Louis
was planning on a blow job if his, "Oh, god," as Louis spreads his
cheeks with his palms is anything to go by. Louis grins and then
presses closer, his tongue circling Harry's hole gently as he holds
him open. Harry lets out a high whine, his hands scrambling for the
sheets.

He lifts his head, wanting to see Harry's face. Harry's head is

thrown back, his lip caught under his teeth. "Okay, darling?" He
asks, lightly squeezing his hands around Harry's ass.

"Can't talk," Harry whispers. "I'm heading for heaven."

Louis laughs and rolls his eyes before ducking back down to where
he wants to be. He adjusts Harry's legs to drape over his shoulders
before he really gets to work. He uses his tongue all the ways he
knows how, circling and pushing, tasting and teasing. Harry
absolutely writhes with it. His feet flexing and pointing, hips
undulating, hands digging into the bed. He moans unabashedly
when Louis hums against his rim and then begs for Louis's fingers
like it's all he's ever wanted.

Louis has to take a deep breath to compose himself before he starts

in with his fingers. Harry is so much for him to have all at once he

433
almost doesn't know what to do. He wants everything, everything,
everything, but settles himself with whatever Harry has to give.

Harry is wet enough for one finger to press inside, hot and warm as
Louis continues to lick around his finger and nudge in further.
"More," Harry whimpers in a voice Louis has never heard. It goes
directly to his cock and stays there.
Louis wants more just like Harry but the last thing he would ever do
is hurt the boy under him. He sits up and wipes his mouth with the
back of his hand and then crawls up to Harry's face. He presses the
hair off his forehead and kisses Harry gently until he looks at him
again.

"We need lube, love."

"I have some," Harry says quickly. "Bottom of my bag."

Louis's lips twitch into a smile, "I have mine too." "We're
prepared," Harry says, grinning.
Louis kisses him again and then rolls off the bed to look through all
of the stuff shoved in his bag for the lube he knows is there because
he's looked at it every day of the road trip with nothing to use it for.
He finds it next to the box of condoms because he's nothing if not
diligently prepared.
He hesitates and then grabs one out. He doesn't know if they'll use it
but he'll have it anyway.

Harry is smirking as he comes back to the bed, smiling when Louis

raises his eyebrows at him.
"What?" He asks, innocent enough.

434
"Nothing," Louis says, getting back on the bed and crawling over
Harry to his spot. He smiles as he kisses Harry, cupping the back of
his head as Harry lifts his neck to meet him.
He gets back to where they were soon enough, kissing and dripping
lube over his fingers while he does it. He kisses Harry's hip and
presses one finger in again, the slide better with lube instead of spit.
Louis feels like he's seventeen and giving up his virginity again,
remembering the basics like that.
He sucks a mark on the thin skin of Harry's hip as he presses in a
second finger, letting Harry push his hips down and adjust and then
roll his hips to take Louis further. It's mesmerizing, the way he
knows his body and lets Louis learn in the process.

"You're beautiful," Louis whispers as Harry rolls his hips down

again and gasps when Louis twists his fingers. For everything he
does and says, those two words make Harry blush from his chest up
to his cheeks. All Louis wants to do is shower him in compliments.

"Will you fuck me?" Harry asks, sending Louis's thoughts into an
automatic zigzag of fireworks and sparklers. "I want you to fuck
me," Harry says like that will help Louis settle down.

"Yeah," Louis says, mouth dry. "I want that, too, babe."

Harry smiles and nods. "We're on the same page, then." He wiggles
his hips. "Sooner rather than later?"

Louis laughs and readjusts so he's between Harry's legs again.

"Soonish," he says just before slipping to his stomach and pressing
his tongue between where his fingers are inside of Harry. If they're
going to do this, they're going to do it right.

435
Louis's version of doing it right has Harry's legs shaking, his body
covered in sweat and his lips bitten red by the time Louis is pulling
off his own sweats.

"Okay, darling?" He asks Harry who is smiling at him with messy

hair and bright eyes.

"Cloud nine," Harry says with a smirk.

Louis's cock feels dangerously hard as he pumps it once before
tearing the foil on the condom.
Harry sits up to kiss the tip but Louis has to push him backwards
before he can get much further. "If you want this to be over quickly,
you'll suck me off," Louis says, rolling the condom on. He laughs
when Harry presses his lips together tightly.

He's careful as he pushes inside Harry, one of Harry's legs up over

his shoulder, the other bent at the knee. He has one hand on the
curve of Harry's waist, the other on the base his own dick as he
presses inside. He expects the first resistance though he has to
squeeze his eyes shut at the hot pull of Harry's body, more when
Harry opens his mouth to release a guttural moan.

"You tell me when," Louis says. "Up to you."

"More," Harry says, quickly. "I can do more."

Louis stays steady as he pushes, watching Harry's face and

registering each time his eyebrows tighten and then release into
pleasure again. He doesn't know when Harry last did this, who it
was with but he doesn't really care. He cares about this moment,
this time, making it unforgettable in every possible way.

436
When he bottoms out, Louis pauses, his hands dancing up Harry's
sides in gentle sweeps. Harry closes his eyes and then opens them,
nodding to encourage Louis on.

"Good?" Louis asks to make sure.

"Very," Harry confirms.

From there it gets sloppy but it gets hot. They slide as they try to
find a rhythm and then catch the same wave, Harry's hips rolling
with Louis's. Their kisses are messy and they end up just breathing
against each other's mouths, breathy moans swallowed against
sweet tongues.
"Feels so good," Harry groans out, his hands tight on Louis's back.
Louis feels his fingernails and hopes for angry red scratches come
daylight. He doesn't want this to disappear, doesn't want this to end.

"You look so good," Louis says against Harry's cheek. He pulls

back up to hold himself over Harry, to watch him. "You're so pretty,
baby. Love the way you move for me, the way you fuck yourself on
my cock."

Harry nods and rolls his hips again, his lips so red from his own
teeth and from Louis's. He stills all at once. "Oh god," he yells out.

Louis grins and moves his hips the way he just had. Harry keens
high in his throat and Louis knows he's found the spot he's been
looking for.

"Don't stop," Harry chants, his hands in his hair, his eyes rolling
back in his head.

Louis holds his breath as he twists his hips, hitting the spot in Harry
he knows will turn his world upside down. "Are you close, baby?"

437
Harry nods, meeting his eyes, mouth dropped open in a silent gasp.
"You're so beautiful when you come for me," Louis says, not even
meaning it as dirty talk but only as the truth. "So beautiful," he
whispers, his own stomach clenching. There's fire licking his ribs
and it's going to consume him but he has to get to Harry first, has
to.

"Do you need my hand?" Louis asks and Harry nods, his nostrils
flaring.

"Please," he says when he opens his eyes. "Please, Lou."

It takes some adjusting but Louis gets a hand around him and
twists, up and down as he moves his hips, whispering words against
Harry's chest and under his jaw.

"Gonna," is all the warning Louis gets before Harry is coming.

Louis watches it sweep over him like a wave, his eyebrows pulling
together and nose scrunching before relaxing as his back curves and
hips press up, his cock spilling all over his stomach and Louis's
hand.

Louis works him all the way through until Harry shivers and then
he pulls out, trying to catch his own breath. He would love to wait
for Harry to recover enough to suck him off but he doesn't think it’s
in the cards for either of them. Louis knees up Harry's body to his
waist and peels off the condom just to get a hand on himself. He
hisses at the sensation and Harry grins, his eyes already sleepy and
sated.
"Come on me, Lou," he says, his voice raspy from who knows
what. "Mark me up."

438
Those are the three words that do it, that and Harry's smug smile, as
Louis orgasms with his whole body, his abs crunching as he comes,
fireworks sparkling behind his eyelids. When he opens his eyes he
still feels like the fizz from a soda can and he kisses Harry to
wrangle it, contain it however they can.

"Amazing," Harry whispers against his lips. "Amazing."

Louis laughs and kisses him a bit more before crawling off of him
to get a towel from their bathroom. He scoops up some of the
discarded rose petals and scatters them all over Harry, making him
laugh. Louis cleans him up gently and slowly, making sure to be
thorough and careful as Harry hums quietly and closes his eyes.
"Thank you," he says with a sweet smile, his eyes shut. "For taking
care of me." "Always," Louis whispers without really thinking
about it, kissing Harry again.
Harry is the one who points out they fucked upside down on the bed
and they laugh as they right themselves, slipping under the covers
together. Louis uses the remote on the nightstand to turn out the
lights, chuckling when he sees their discarded strawberries.

He holds his arm out for Harry once he lays down and settles once
Harry comes in closer to him, pressing together in all the spots they
fit. Louis knows he won’t have this for always, may not even have
it like this again but he falls asleep with the thought of maybe
melting on his tongue. Maybe it doesn't have to be taken away,
maybe they have a choice.

DAY FOURTEEN

Sedona, Arizona

439
Louis feels it when Harry wakes up. It starts with gentle movement
in his arms and then it's a cool rush of air as Harry gets out of bed.
He puts the covers back over Louis and the warmth is almost
enough to send him back to sleep. He listens for Harry in the
bathroom, the toilet flushing and sink turning on and off. He waits
as he hears Harry's feet on the carpet. He waits for Harry to slide
under the covers but it doesn't happen.

Slowly, Louis opens his eyes to see Harry's back. He's sitting on the
edge of the bed, facing the wall, his head in his hands. Just seeing it
makes Louis shiver with helplessness, unsure what to do.
As Harry turns he squeezes his eyes shut like a coward.

There's some movement as Harry gets under the covers again but as
Louis waits to feel his warm skin, nothing comes. Louis opens his
eyes again to find Harry huddled on the very edge of the bed, the
covers wrapped around his body, his back completely to Louis.

Louis looks at the gap between them, questioning what has made
Harry unable to cross the divide all of a sudden. He reaches out
slowly, stretches his fingers to brush Harry's shoulder blade. When
he flinches, it feels like a knife.

"Yeah?" He asks quietly, looking over his shoulder.

"Everything okay?" Louis asks, his voice heavy with sleep and
something else more emotional.

"Yeah," Harry says again except this time it's not a question but a
final answer.

Louis takes his hand back to himself and stares at Harry's back,
waking up quickly now that alarm bells are prickling along his

440
spine. It's still night time, he can tell by the lack of light from the
windows but he feels wide awake.

Harry doesn't move again and Louis watches the steady right and
fall of his breath, wonders if he's already back to sleep. Louis drifts
eventually but not until he's stared at Harry until his eyes sting. He
can't, for the life of him, figure out what has happened since they
went to sleep all he knows is the foot between his body and Harry's
suddenly feels endless.

*
It's awkward once the sun truly rises and nine a.m. lingers over
them. Awkward is the only word Louis can use. They don't talk
besides a brief, "Good morning". They take turns showering and
then packing their bags, handing back clothes strewn around the
room and avoiding eye contact. Louis hates it more than anything
else he's felt between him and Harry but he doesn't know what to
say or do to fix it.

He starts to think about ways to tell Harry how he feels for once and
for all, to put an end to the turmoil tucked under his heart when
Harry solves it all for him.

They're making the bed when the condom wrapper surfaces out of
the covers, haphazardly torn from the heat of the moment. They
both stare it like evidence of something filthy and then Harry plucks
it up and smiles. "This came in handy, yeah?"

Louis is speechless as he meets Harry's eyes. He doesn't know what

Harry is saying or trying to imply but it feels like something cheap.
Like Louis used him.

"Thanks for last night," he says, crumbling the wrapper in his hand.

441
"Best lay I've had in months."

Louis inhales so sharply he thinks something has been punctured

for a moment. His mouth goes dry and his ears ring as Harry
equates everything between them to a good lay. His only solace is
the way Harry's grin doesn't meet his eyes and when he drops his
gaze. Louis watches the way the mask of a smile disappears. What's
left is pain - the same pain reflected on Louis's face, he knows.

"What are you doing?" he wants to ask but no words come. Instead
he clears his throat and says, "No problem," like he's offered a
service instead of his heart.
He stops making the bed to go in the bathroom and try to catch his
breath, each inhale shaky. In the silence of his caution not to be
heard, he hears Harry instead. The distinct intake of breath followed
by a quiet sob that makes Louis's throat swell as he rubs at his face.

He doesn't know what's happening but it feels a lot like everything

in him is breaking into a million pieces.

*
Louis knew, two days ago, falling for Harry would hurt him in the
end. He didn’t expect the end to be day fourteen or for the end to
come like this. Because, surely, that’s what this must be, he thinks,
as they drive in silence. Surely this is the end credits on their story
that never got the chance to get going in the first place.
Maybe it ended this morning when Louis came out of the bathroom,
saw the reddened edges of Harry's eyes and didn't say anything,
convinced there was nothing more to say, anyway. What could he
add to make things better when, at every chance, Harry pulls further
away. He's done it since the beginning of the thing they aren't
supposed to discuss and Louis is the one who keeps pulling him

442
back. This time is worse than the others. This time he actually
thought there was more, a future he hadn't fully let himself consider
for them until recently. A future Harry doesn't want.

Maybe it ended when Harry said they shouldn't talk about their kiss
and Louis agreed with him. Agreeing to pretend something wasn't
happening never hid it, only pushed it. Pushed it down until it broke
under its own weight of being kept a secret.

Louis puts his head against the window and closes his eyes as
Adele’s voice fills the car. Fucking Adele. He wants to start crying
when he hears her voice anyway but this morning especially. Harry
just hums along as he drives with two hands on the wheel,
seemingly oblivious.

This is Harry's road trip, Louis has known all along. He should have
recognized that meant playing by Harry's rules, he should have
recognized Harry doesn't play fair.

*
The first leg of the drive is mostly quiet until Harry pulls over at a
coffee shop for drinks. He gets out of the car without a word and
Louis hears the slamming door like a knife under his lungs. If he
would have resigned himself to hating Harry the first time he
slammed the car door in his face, maybe they wouldn't be in this
mess after all. It was impossible, he knows. And no one is at fault.
Harry Styles made Louis fall for him without even trying; he never
stood a chance.

Louis is about to get out of the car for his own caffeine fix when
Harry comes back out with two cups, a paper bag clutched between
his teeth, sunglasses squishing the top of his hair down. Louis

443
watches for a moment and then leans over to open the door from the
inside so Harry doesn't drop anything.

"Got you coffee," Harry says quietly as he gets in, handing Louis a
warm cup.

Louis stares for a beat and then takes a deep breath. He wants to
scream at the top of his lungs but he nods instead. "Thanks," he
says, leaning back in his seat. Harry opens the paper bag on his lap
and shuffles around before pulling out something wrapped in wax
paper.
"And a ham and cheese croissant," he says, handing it over. He
doesn't meet Louis's eyes as he hands over a couple of napkins as
well.

Louis isn't sure it's supposed to hurt this much as he says, "Thanks,
H."

Harry nods and takes out his own breakfast - a cheese danish -
before crumpling the paper bag and tossing it in the backseat. Louis
isn't sure this is much of an apology, he's not even sure he's even
hungry but he settles into his seat as Harry starts the car. There are a
few days left until LA and they have to get through them one way
or another.

The Route 66 gift shop in Seligman is absolutely gaudy. They both

laugh for the first time all morning as Harry pulls into the parking
lot. The building is covered in Route 66 signs on the outsides -
stickers, neon lights, flashing arrows. It's the Vegas of Route 66 all
wrapped up in a tiny building that seems to vibrate with tacky
energy.

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"Amazing," Harry whispers as he gets out his camera and Louis
laughs because he can't help it. He throws away their empty cups
and discarded wax paper bags with dirty napkins shoved inside
rather than food as Harry takes pictures.

Louis doesn't think he can stand with Harry and watch as he usually
does so he wanders inside the gift shop, saying hello to the woman
behind the counter who wears a Route 66 t-shirt with four or five
pins of road signs stuck in at random.
Inside is crammed with memorabilia, all of it fairly cheap and
nonsensical. Louis thinks he has enough mementos from this road
trip to last him; he doesn't need a tacky shot glass that makes him
think of Harry every time he sees it.
That's what this trip has been about, after all. There have been
sights and restaurants that blur together now and then, but through
it all, there has been Harry. He's in every memory of the trip so far -
the sweetest ones and the harder ones Louis knows he'll have to
banish to the back of his mind.
"This is where Route 66 originally started," Harry says from behind
Louis. He jumps a bit at his voice in the quiet shop, not even having
heard him come in.

"Really?" He turns slightly to look at him.

Harry presses his lips together and nods. "The route already existed
but in Seligman they decided to make it more tourist driven."

Louis nods and wanders further into the shop. He can feel Harry
lingering next to him but he can't figure out quite what to say.
Where they were last night, tangled and sweaty, doesn't explain the
tension running through the center of them now. Louis wishes there

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was an easy explanation, a painless one. He'd take it without
question but he's not sure it exists.

There is a section on the longest wall of the store for each state on
the route and various kinds of memorabilia stacked all together -
Louis sees the Cadillac Ranch in Texas and Blue Hole in New
Mexico, even the caverns from Missouri. He pauses as he reads one
sign in particular in the Missouri section.

"Oh my god," he says as he laughs.

Harry has been keeping his space for a few moments but steps in
closer now. "What?"

Louis points, "How'd we miss this?"

He looks at Harry with the ghost of a smile on his lips as he

watches him read the sign, his lips forming silently around the
words, "Uranus Fudge Factory." He blinks once and then laughs,
his smile widening as he catches Louis's eye. "Uranus," he says out
loud.
"Fudge," Louis repeats, scrunching his nose. They both laugh about
it like twelve year olds, eyes squinting.

"What an unfortunate name," Harry says, pointing out an entire line

of Uranus merchandise under the fudge factory sign.

"I can't believe it wasn't on the itinerary," Louis says with a shake of
his head.

"Me neither, honestly," Harry says, catching Louis's eye again. "I'll
have to have a conversation with our itinerary agent."

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He laughs at his own joke and Louis rolls his eyes. He doesn't
understand how Harry can be like this so easily when it pales in
comparison to the way they were in the hotel this morning. He
doesn't understand why Harry does this all so well but runs at any
chance of serious emotion, a serious conversation.

They do end up buying a couple of souvenirs since they haven't

done that much shopping so far, Harry's wiener key chain from
Missouri notwithstanding. They both buy snapbacks that are white
and black with the Route 66 emblem over the front and matching
black mugs with kitschy sayings about getting kicks on Route 66.
"We're kind of boring shoppers," Harry says as they wander back
out to the car.
"Might be," Louis allows. "But we bought functional items. That's
important."

"Yeah," Harry says with a smile. "Catch me in my hat with my mug

every day from now on."

Louis laughs as they get in the car, his stomach curling oddly. God,
he wishes he could catch Harry. He just doesn't know how anymore.

*
They stop at the Snow Cap Drive-In for lunch on the edge of
Seligman. "They really know how to do showy around here," Louis
muses as they get out of the Jeep.

"Clearly," Harry says as they look up at the restaurant. It's covered

in paintings of hotdogs, hamburgers, soda and milkshakes with
Route 66 emblazoned just about everywhere else. For the town that
initially started Route 66, it definitely doesn't want anyone to forget
about it. They order burgers and milkshakes at the walk-up window

447
and then sit in the covered area outside at a bright red table that has
probably seen better days.

"Where else are we headed today?" Louis asks. Every time

something has happened on this trip, they've come back to the
itinerary. It's the safest conversation to have.

"Black Mountains," Harry says, playing with the numbered card as

they wait for their order. "There's a little town up there with lake
houses. My mom actually has a friend who owns one and offered
me a night when I came up that way." "I always like the sound of
free," Louis says smiling.

"Even if we have to work for it," Harry says motioning at the ring
on Louis's finger.

Fuck. He'd forgotten that as even there, actually. He'd had to wear it
as a cover and he'd gotten used to it after a while, the weight of it
on his finger. He's never even been the kind of guy who enjoys
wearing rings.

"Shit, sorry," he says, as he twists it off. It comes easily and he

holds it over to Harry. "I totally forgot it was there."

Harry stares at the ring for a quiet moment as their order number is
called over the scratchy speaker. "You can hang onto it awhile
longer," Harry says quietly, finally meeting Louis's eyes when he
looks up. Before Louis can so much as respond, Harry is up off of
the bench and heading for the window to pick up their lunch.

It's Louis's turn to stare at the ring in the silence, everything it

represented in the last two days. All of the experiences they were
afforded because of it. He swallows hard and puts it on his opposite

448
hand, on his middle finger. Maybe he'll hold onto it for a little
longer. Maybe he'll pretend it means more than a fake wedding ring
has any right to.

*
Of all the days to have a long drive, the three hour drive after
Seligman and to the Black Mountains feels the longest. They don't
talk very much, music pulsing through the speakers on a random
shuffle from Spotify. Louis is left with only his thoughts that are
getting more dangerous these days, circling in slow motion of doubt
and romance, interlaced with memories he doesn't want to think
about right now.
As Arizona rushes past the window, a stream of red rocks and open
canyon, brushes of greenery every once in a while, curving streams
and rivers as they speed by, Louis loses himself. It's nothing more
than a montage in his mind of memories at random, spiking up and
then falling to be replaced with others.

Harry walking into Niall's apartment, Harry's neck swelling and

then Harry slamming the door on him. Harry smiling while he talks
about art, his eyes lighting up. The beer nuts and the syrup farm,
him yelling at Harry to take the turn off the freeway and the way
Harry did, a different light in his eyes, then. He sees Harry in a life
jacket in the canoe in Missouri and the way Harry looked in
Bricktown when he was telling Louis about Matt. There's Harry
falling asleep on him at the drivein and his sleepy eyes when they
drank coffee at sunrise.

He tries to close his eyes and ignore the supercut his mind has
insisted on playing for him but it doesn't go away.

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He sees Harry squatting by the Cadillac in Texas, his rainbow heart.
There's Harry yelling at him on the side of the highway, their very
first kiss and the way Louis's lips fizzed like fireworks after. Images
of horses and their conversations in the kitchen of their cabin in
Colorado.

He breathes sharply as he replays kissing Harry on the hood of the

Jeep, laughing through their lies at the Lightning Field, all of the
macaroni and cheese, Harry under him in bed. He puts a hand to his
stomach when he feels it jolt and presses his forehead to the glass of
the window. He wishes he'd known how it was going to hurt, or
maybe he's glad he didn't know it would be like this.
It felt like they were fireworks, rushing up into the sky in a rush and
exploding into a stream of colors and feelings, memories and
effervescent smiles. This, he would assume, is the part where they
fade away into smoke on their fall back to earth. They nearly
reached the stars together. Nearly.

Louis squeezes his eyes shut harder, willing himself not to get
emotional. It’s all Harry behind his eyelids. Harry with his camera,
Harry in the sunset light and Harry in the morning. Harry with
puffy eyes when he wakes up and Harry with a filthy smile as he
pulls back the shower curtain to pull Louis toward him.

It's only been two weeks and somehow Harry has imprinted himself
all over Louis like a stamp with too much ink. It feels like they've
known each other for longer than fourteen days though Louis
knows it's not true. He remembers not knowing Harry. He
remembers it well, actually. It's not that kind of feeling - the feeling
where you can't remember your life without someone. He
remembers. It just was never quite as bright as it is now, as it has
been with Harry for the last two weeks.

450
The thought makes his throat bubble and he opens his eyes as the
music changes to a Lorde song he hasn't heard before. In your car,
radio up. ... The visions never stop, These ribbons wrap me up ... In
my head, I do everything right.

If Harry is offended when Louis reaches over to change the song, he

doesn't show it. He just swallows and keeps his eyes on the road as
Adele comes back on. As if Adele has ever been safer than Lorde.

*
They make a stop halfway through the drive for candy. Harry
stretches his legs and gets gas while Louis goes in the small store
nearby for Skittles and gummy bears. He sees a bag of the snap pea
crisps Harry got on the first day and actually laughs as he plucks
them off the rack to purchase.

"Got you something," he says to Harry when he gets back, leaning

against the side of the car as the tank fills.

"Skittles, I hope," Harry says.

"Yes," Louis says, smiling. "And weed chips." He hands over the
bag of snap pea crisps and memories the way Harry's face lights up
when he smiles.

"You remembered."

"Hard to forget," Louis says, meaning it from the very start.

"You only got one bag, though," Harry says with raised eyebrows.
"What am I going to do when you start stealing my peas?"

Louis laughs and pulls out a second bag, "I have my own." Harry's
laugh fills up the gas station like a balloon and when it pops, Louis

451
lets the warmth rush over him. Everything hurts, nothing is okay
but when Harry laughs it feels like it can be.

*
Hazard. Slippery When Wet. Warning: Loose Rock. Warning: Sharp
Turns Ahead. Flooding Possible. Yield Ahead. A simple exclamation
point on a yellow triangle. No Passing Zone. "Harry," Louis says
slowly as the signs all whiz by one after the other. "Did you see all
of that?" If Louis was in charge they would have turned around
already but Harry doesn't falter.

"Yeah," he says. He glances at Louis. "My mom's friend mentioned

it's hard to get through the
Black Mountains. There's a lot of curves and stuff."

"And hazards and loose rocks," Louis points out. "Sharp turns and
things that need no explainer beyond the most urgent punctuation
mark, evidently."

Harry laughs lightly, "I saw that. I want to start responding to texts
like that. Just an exclamation point. See what happens."

Louis laughs and settles into his seat as they curve up into the,
evidently hazardous, Black
Mountains. The roads are fairly easy curves at first, the greenery
starting to get fuller as they drive. It's gorgeous, the way the road
drops off on each side in dramatic fashion, the whoosh of the
canyon around them. Harry hums quietly to the radio, both hands
on the steering wheel.

Louis looks over at him once in a while the way he seems so calm,
has seemed calm all day. He's been quiet and not as outgoing as
Louis has gotten used to but Louis has yet to see him squeeze his

452
eyes shut like his throat is swelling or grip the steering wheel so
tight his knuckles turn white. Somehow, Louis is the only one so
effected by the overnight change between them.

He tries to let it go but he's not sure it works. There's a melancholy

wave of anger stirred with confusion melting in his stomach. No
good can come of a feeling like that.

Steadily, the road gets thinner until two cars driving past in opposite
directions would be split by only a couple of feet with a plunging
canyon below. Louis feels the realization like pin pricks at the
underside of his belly. Harry tightens his hands on the wheel
slightly.
Out the window there is a mountain, maybe the Black Mountain -
he's no expert. It shoots straight up next to the car with hardly any
space between the window and the rock wall, far too tall for Louis
to see the top. He remembers the sign about the loose rocks and
feels nervous; like a bolder is just going to crumble off at any
moment. Surely, Harry's mom's friend would have mentioned if that
was a likely occurrence.

The curves start to come closer together as they start going down
into a valley. It seems counterintuitive to go down into a mountain
though Louis assumes people don't actually stay in cabins on the
top of mountains. He's unfamiliar with the wilderness lifestyle.

Harry, for his part, slows to a glacial pace as he drives. He takes

each curve slower than the next until it barely feels like the car is
moving. Louis doesn't mean to be so loud when he sighs but Harry
hears him.

"What?" Harry asks without looking over as they start another

climb of curves.

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"Nothing," Louis says as Harry eases onto the brake again. "Didn't
realize grandma was driving." Harry doesn't look over but Louis
sees him roll his eyes.

He slams the brakes on the next sharp turn and the car jolts as he
straightens out again.

"Christ," Louis says with one hand over his heart. He didn't realize
he was letting Harry take his life in his hands like this.

"Shut up," Harry grumbles, something angry in his tone.

Good, Louis thinks. He should be a bit angry, he should feel a bit of
something after the whiplash of emotions Louis has felt the past
seven hours.
Louis knows he shouldn't do it but it gets back to the poking thing
again as they drive. He wants Harry to be mad, he wants him to
show some fucking emotion besides complacent calm. Louis
doesn’t want to feel like he's the only one hurting.
He knows what Harry looks like when he's happy and whenever
they are together, he has been. He was never faking it and if he
wants to pretend like he was, that's fine - but Louis isn't going to let
him go quietly about it. They're going to start talking before the
silence eats them.

Each time Harry shoves the brakes down, Louis sighs. He makes a
few more grandma and grandpa comments, intersperses a few eye
rolls when Harry is looking at him. It feels good to do something
besides stew over his thoughts, it feels good to let out some of his
frustration even if it's coming out over something unrelated.

On one of the turns Louis can see the rest of the route come into
view and it's all sharp and jagged. It's by far the roughest part

454
they've encountered and he curls his fingers with nerves as he looks
out over the edge into the canyon.

Harry tightens his hands as he starts the progression of turns, slow

and steady. He hits the brakes again and Louis slams the dashboard
with his hands. "Fuck, Harry. If you keep doing that the momentum
is going to fling us off the fucking cliff."

"Sorry," Harry mutters instantly making Louis feel like a jackass.

"This is hard, okay?"
Louis always takes off more than he can chew and this time it's
about to make him choke. "It's not that hard, you're being a baby
about it."

"It is hard," Harry says with gritted teeth. He takes a turn slightly
quicker but far under the speed limit. "You breathing down my neck
isn't helping matters."

"Fuck off," Louis says, crossing his arms. "I'm just trying to make
sure you don't kill us."

"No," Harry says loudly, "You're trying to make me nervous. You

know what you can do to me."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Louis raises his voice, true
confusion shining through as they edge the next curve.

"You know," Harry yells. "You know I'll let you push and won’t
stop you. You know you're my weakness."

"What are you talking about?" Louis turns in his seat to face Harry
this time. "You've lost your goddamned mind if you think I know
anything about the way you feel."

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Harry shakes his head and his jawline pulses, his lips pressed tight.
They take a blind turn and it swishes them like jelly as they finally
get to a break in the road, the first shoulder since they started.
"Fuck," Harry yells, pulling the car over. "I can't do this anymore,
Louis." Louis doesn't know if he means the drive or Louis or
something else altogether but he slams his hands on the wheel and
throws the parking brake. "I can't do it."

He gets out of the car in a rush this time but Louis doesn't let the
door slam in his face. He flips off his seatbelt and tumbles out of
the passenger side, his sneakers kicking up dust as he lands on the
gravel. He finds Harry at the back of the car, walking a narrow line
along the highway with his fists over his eyes.

"Harry," Louis says, nothing more than a warning for him to not
walk blindly along the road but it breaks the dam.

"I'm sorry," Harry says, dropping his fists and revealing watery
eyes, a stray tear track across his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

Louis knows Harry cried this morning, or at least got emotional

while he was in the bathroom, enough for his eyes to go red. But
this, seeing Harry teary eyed in front of him breaks everything he
thought he felt, unties all of the ribbons around the emotions he'd
tried to wish away all day.

"Baby," he breathes as he crosses the distance between them. Harry

is just standing there staring at him his hands loose at his sides and
his eyes sparkling with something Louis doesn't want to see.
"Darling," he whispers again as he pulls Harry to him. Harry
collapses like he's been waiting, his face pressing to Louis's neck
like he belongs.

456
"I'm so sorry," he says against Louis's neck. Louis can feel the
wetness against his skin at Harry's words. "I'm sorry for all of it."

"It's okay," Louis says quietly, running his fingers through Harry's
hair and down his back. He doesn't know what the apology is for
but he takes it. He wanted Harry to break and he made it happen, he
made him cry. "I'm sorry too," he offers out in a quiet declaration
just for Harry.
He is. He’s sorry for pushing Harry like this, saying mean things in
the car he didn’t really mean. In a rush, he realizes he’s sorry for
more than that. He’s sorry for the way things changed between
them, the way things hurt. He’s sorry they took something fragile
and broke it to pieces. "I'm sorry for everything,” Louis says.

Harry inhales and then whispers, "I'm so stupid,” and Louis hears it
like he's yelled it.

"Hey, no," Louis says shaking his head and dislodging Harry from
him. He makes Harry look up and holds his face between his hands,
"No, you're not." We both are, he thinks but doesn't say.

In slow motion, like a Colorado morning all over again, Harry leans
in to kiss Louis on the side of the highway. He tastes like saltwater
this time but Louis presses his tongue between Harry's lips anyway,
licking away the flavor to replace it with his own. Harry opens his
mouth easily, pressing in closer until there isn't air between them.

Nothing makes sense, nothing is okay but this, Louis thinks, this
feels like falling leaves, coming home and a warm cup of tea all at
once.

Louis waits for Harry to pull back first, and when he does Louis
feels guilt immediately roll

457
through his ribs. He made Harry break like this, he made Harry
storm out of the car, he made the tears that are drying on Harry's
face. He kisses the arch of Harry's cheekbones, the last tear he sees.

"What are we doing to each other?" Harry asks in a whisper Louis

isn't sure he's meant to hear.

He just closes his eyes and kisses Harry again, slowly. He doesn't
know. He's begged Harry to talk but now that he asks, Louis doesn't
have an answer. They're not treating each other the way they
should, he knows. They're not being nice and careful with their
hearts. They're reckless and wild, fluorescent and free with no way
of slowing down. Maybe it's time to slow things down, maybe it's
time to stop with expectations and disappointments and thinking too
much.

"I don't know," he whispers back and lets the words linger. "I don't
know."

Harry nods and kisses him again, maybe satisfied with the answer,
or maybe because there's nothing else to say right now. Not here,
not like this.

"Is this a thing?" Louis asks when they pull away, wanting to free
his heart from the heaviness that has settled like a cloud. "Kissing
on the sides of highways?"

Harry laughs and it sounds a little raw as he sniffs. "Maybe,"

he says. He kisses Louis again. "Maybe it is with us."

Louis lets himself be kissed and lets the emotion settle raw in his
chest there with the Black Mountains and the afternoon sun as a
witness. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows this isn't the

458
solution, this isn't the answer but he's holding Harry in his arms and
that makes it feel like it could be enough.

*
Louis takes over driving when they get back out of the car. It's
partly out of guilt and partly because he's not sure Harry is eager to
get behind the wheel yet.

The road is hard and the curves seem to come out of nowhere.
Louis may end up driving slower than Harry did but Harry is too
good of a person to point it out.
"I think it's that green one," Harry points when they directions lead
them to a dead-end cul-de-sac of small cabins under a canopy of
trees. As they drove down the final road, Louis could see the lake
sparkling behind the houses. Deep blue and calm.

They're quiet as they get out of the car, grabbing their bags. Harry
gets the key hidden under a garden gnome wearing a bathing suit
before unlocking the door. It feels fragile, the leftover tension
between them after they got back in the car.

There's no light laughter between them as they walk through the

house and look around, no electricity when they meet eyes. But
there's also no hesitation as they go into the bedroom to put their
bags down on the same bed.

"Thanks for last night. Best lay I've had in months," rings back
though Louis's head like a bell. There's no way Harry could have
meant that. No way he could be that cruel. It only takes a moment
before Louis hears his own voice in his memory too, "No problem."
They both fucked this up.

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Louis looks up and meets Harry's eyes from across the bed. They
hold each other's gaze for a beat of silence. If Louis had to guess,
Harry is remembering the same thing Louis is. He swallows and
looks away, eyes catching over the window on the other side and
the lake just beyond. The water looks endless from here, like it
cascades over the edge of the world.

"Do you want to swim?" Harry asks, eyes on Louis.

Louis looks back and nods, "Yeah."

They change into swim shorts and then Harry sifts through all of the
closets for beach towels as Louis peruses the refrigerator and
freezer. Both are empty.
"Do you want pizza for dinner?" Louis asks when Harry comes
back with two towels faded by the sun and sea.

"Do you think they deliver out here?"

Louis shrugs, "I guess we'll find out. Swim and then pizza?" "An
ideal evening," Harry says, a small smile on his lips.
They unlock the back door with some effort and then head down the
grassy knoll right to the lake. Louis tries not to gasp when Harry
grabs his hand, intertwines their fingers. This is the only thing they
know how to do, it seems. They can't talk, can't identify emotions,
but they can touch and hold. Louis squeezes Harry's hand in his.

They lay out their towels on the shared dock between three houses,
the sun already heading toward a sunset in the sky. No one else is
outside and there are a couple of orange leaves already floating at
the edges of the lake. All of the summer kids must have gone back
to school already, no one else planning to swim just before dinner.

460
"I feel like we own the lake," Harry says once he straightens his
towel.

"Did I not tell you?" Louis smirks, "I'm the prince of the Black
Mountains. Everything the light touches belongs to me."

Harry stares at him and tries not to smile but he starts laughing
anyway, his eyes closing. It's the sweetest sound, Louis thinks. He
misses it every time Harry tries to muffle it with his hand.

Louis jumps off the dock first, despite Harry's incessant warnings of
making sure it's deep enough before he does. "It's fine," Louis calls
once he surfaces. "I didn't even touch the bottom."

Harry crosses his arms, "Are you fucking with me?"

Louis's laughter echoes loudly. "I fuck with you about a lot of
things but not about something that will actually kill you."

"Okay," Harry says, mollified. He takes off at a run and cannon

balls next to Louis, splashing him in the face and giggling about it
when he finally surfaces.

They float around as the sun sets, the water mirroring the sky like
fire all around them. They talk a little - about family vacations
when they were kids and learning to swim - but it's quiet otherwise
as they kick around.

Louis pulls up on the dock to watch the end of the sunset and Harry
joins him though he falls off the dock twice on accident before he
manages to make it up fully. The sky is like a painting all around
them, colors blurring and hazing as the biggest light in the sky
leaves the clouds behind.

"God, this is nice," Harry says quietly, his hands resting at his sides.

461
Louis breathes in the mountain air, Harry breathing steadily next to
him, the view that looks like a picture. "I know," he says quietly. He
kisses the side of Harry's shoulder because he can and then rests the
side of his head there. At first, it's stilted but then Harry shifts to
tuck Louis under his arm, the lake water on their bodies meeting
and drying on their skin.

Louis feels when Harry brushes his lips through the top of Louis's
hair and then settles as they start to synchronize their breath.
Louis knows, he thinks he knows, that what Harry said this
morning, what he did, was all a lie. He knows a lot of things about
Harry, he has a lot he still has to learn but he is pretty sure that
Harry has already shown him his heart. Even if he tries to back
track now, Louis knows what he looks like on the inside.
It's not cold and dead like he wants Louis to believe. The fact is,
Louis's heart isn't either. Not since fourteen days ago. Harry's heart
is summertime, daisies, butterflies and fizzy drinks. Louis would
know. He thinks he'd be able to recognize a heart that mirrors his
own.

"Ask for cheese in the crust."

Harry scrunches his nose. "What?" Then he waves his hand as

someone answers on the other line.
"Hi, we're in the middle of nowhere and we'd like a pizza."

Louis laughs and covers his mouth when Harry plugs the ear not
pressed to the phone. He's sitting on the kitchen counter in his swim
shorts with Louis between his legs, the address their staying at
written on a piece of paper next to his thigh. He picks it up and
reads it to the person on the phone.

462
"Wait, seriously? You deliver here?"

Louis cheers silently, squeezing Harry's bare hips. Harry squeaks as

he tries to order their pizza with half mushrooms and olives and
half Canadian bacon and olives.

"Cheese in the crust," Louis whispers again.

Harry rolls his eyes. "Do you ever put cheese in the crust? Yeah?

Okay, can we have that please." Louis rises up on his toes to kiss

Harry quickly, smiling when he pulls away.

"How much would it be for a bottle of wine?" Harry asks without

breaking eye contact from Louis.
"Maybe two bottles?" Louis grins.

*
They sit on the carpet around the coffee table with glasses of wine
and their cheese filled pizza, playing board games in their sweats
and hoodies, hair dried all haphazardly from the lake. It feels like
every other night as they tease each other over dumb things and
Louis finds out that Harry is scarily good at all word related games
while Louis makes a killing off of Clue and Guess Who. They leave
the front window open to look out over the lake, the moon shining
over the water like a bulb of light in the dark sky.

For once, Louis tries not to think about how this could easily be a
Friday night back in LA, how this isn't too astronomical to take
back with them into their real lives. For once he takes the moment
for what it is, Harry's wine-purple lips and teeth.

463
They end up giving up on Monopoly in favor of a movie and share
a blanket with soft kisses to the opening credits of "P.S. I Love
You." Harry's movie choice, definitely not Louis's. They stay
pressed together for the whole film, Louis's hand rubbing over
Harry's stomach under his sweatshirt and then lightly scratching his
back aimlessly.

"You didn't tell me I would cry," Louis accuses at the very end,
laughing over his tears when Harry looks over with the same mess
all over his face.

These tears are okay, Louis decides. Tears over fictional love stories
are therapeutic, not like the ones on the highway. He never wants to
see Harry's tears like that again. Even the thought has him surging
forward to kiss Harry, hard enough that they both fall over, their
legs tangling in the blanket.
"Take me to bed," Harry whispers when both of their cheeks are
flushed and their hips are writhing rhythmically against each other
on the couch.

Louis leads Harry by the hand and then pushes him back into the
plush bed, kissing him under the cover of moonlight from outside.
Harry holds on tighter than he has and Louis is too caught up to let
go and do anything properly. He doesn't want to let go of the way
they’re twisted together.
The result is they get off by rubbing against each other, making out
with wine-dyed mouths and quiet hums. Harry comes first, his
whole body shaking against Louis's and Louis follows after a few
more rubs against Harry's thigh, biting Harry's lip in the midst of
his own pleasure.

464
They manage to change out of their messy pants and into fresh
boxers but then they crawl back into bed, piling the covers over
themselves. For a moment, Louis holds his breath as he waits to see
if Harry will turn away. It doesn't come.

Harry rolls on his side to face Louis and presses in until their bellies
and chests are pressed together and Harry's face can slot right
against Louis's neck.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Louis whispers into the quiet room as

Harry breathes out steadily. He feels Harry kiss the side of his neck
and then his eyelashes flutter as he closes his eyes. He doesn't know
what will happen in the morning, in the curse of daylight, but he
lets himself fall asleep with a smile ghosting on his lips.

465
 Day 15 & 16

DAY FIFTEEN

Black Mountains, Arizona

Louis wakes up sweaty and sticky with Harry's body on top of him
and all the covers piled over them. He tries to wiggle his way out
but Harry pulls him in tighter like a koala. Louis isn't even sure he's
realized he's doing it.

"Get off me," he says as nicely as possible as he continues to wiggle

away.

"What?" Harry asks without moving or opening his eyes. He adjusts

over Louis's bladder and the situation intensifies by three.

"Off, babe," Louis says. "I'll pee on you."

"What?" Harry repeats louder, this time opening his eyes and

focusing right to Louis. "What?" "Just get off," Louis says again.

466
Unfortunately, as Harry starts to move is when Louis gets desperate
and pushes Harry with two hands. The result is Harry flying off the
side of the bed, landing with a dull thud.

"Oh, fuck," Louis whispers and then he scrambles off the edge of
the bed and on top of Harry. "Are you okay?" He asks, feeling over
Harry's chest and running his hand over the back of Harry's head to
make sure he didn't hit the side table when he fell. He stops when
he sees Harry smiling. "I'm fine, babe," he says. "A bit shocked
you'd throw me off the bed, to be honest."

"I didn't," Louis says quickly. He kisses Harry's lips as if to

reinforce the idea. "I promise that wasn't on purpose."

Harry purses his lips. "Kiss me again, then."

Louis rolls his eyes but indulges Harry anyway, kissing him again,
slow and deep, the way Harry should be kissed each morning.

"I thought you had to pee," Harry says when he pulls back, his
hands falling to Louis's thighs and fingering the hem of his boxers.

"I do," Louis says. "You made me forget."

Harry nods, "You should go take care of that now."

Louis laughs, snuffling through his nose. "You don't like water
sports?"

Harry grimaces, "Please get off me," he says. "Go take care of your
bathroom duties alone." "Duties," Louis laughs to himself as he gets
up. By ways of mornings, this one is much better than the one
before.

467
 *

They eat cold pizza for breakfast at the kitchen table and Louis tries
to convince Harry to go swimming one more time.

"Look where we're going, though," Harry says, flipping his phone
around so Louis can see. "Lake Havasu."

"Isn't that where people go on Spring Break?" Louis asks, laughing.

The water is teal and only a shade different than the sky, the drinks
multi colored and the sandy beaches white. It looks like Jamaica in
the middle of Arizona.

"Yes," Harry says, "And it's a lot better than swimming in an

ordinary lake."

"You haven't even been," Louis says handing back the phone. "How
do I know that's true?"

Harry shrugs. "I guess you'll have to trust me?"

Louis smiles so wide his cheeks pinch. "I can do that."

"I'm tired of being the car."

Louis pauses with his hand on the key in the ignition. "H, we've
been in the car for five minutes."

Harry laughs as he puts on his sunglasses and puts one foot up on

the dashboard. "I mean, in general."

468
Louis shakes his head. "You still surprise me with the things you
say considering you planned this trip."

Harry smiles, "A cross country road trip sounds different out loud
than when you actually do it."

"True," Louis says, turning on the GPS and pulling away from their
temporary lake house. "I thought I was going to be bored out of my
mind, quite honestly."

"Hey," Harry says with narrowed eyes. "Rude."

Louis laughs. "We didn't get along like a house on fire, if you
remember correctly." "We still don't," Harry muses.

"Significantly more like a house on fire than the beginning."

Harry laughs loudly, "Yeah, okay, I'll give you that."

Louis navigates out onto the highway heading west with the stereo
playing softly as Harry hums along. He loves the way Harry hums
one level lower than whoever is singing, like he's harmonizing
without thinking about it.

They hit the desert off of the mountains and the temperature
steadily rises until they're blasting the air conditioning and making
sure the car doesn't over heat.

At the halfway mark Louis gets a craving he can't kick and throws
his phone to Harry. "We're getting ice cream," he says without
asking permission.

Harry stays still for so long Louis looks over. "Is there a problem?"

"I don't know," Harry half sings in a low voice. "I don't think that's
on the itinerary."

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"Really?" Louis catches Harry's lips twitching when he nods. "I
think we've moved past the itinerary being the guiding light, babe."

Harry sighs, "You corrupted me."

"That's not true," Louis defends himself, "I've added flavor and
adventure to your life."

Harry is smiling at him in the quiet and it makes Louis a bit itchy
for reasons he can't explain.

"I've also given you orgasms," he adds on to keep things light. He

realizes it's a crude thing to actually say out loud and there's a hair
of a moment when he worries he's offended Harry. The moment
explodes with Harry's cackling laughter that fades off into a quiet
chuckle as he puts one hand over his stomach. Louis smirks. It
loosens something in his chest for the first time in a couple of days.

"So," Harry says once he recovers. "Ice cream?"

Harry finds an organic ice creamery only a slightly off the route and
though organic always makes Louis question the authenticity of
junk food with the label, he follows the directions to take them
there.
They get double scoops on freshly made waffle cones from the walk
up window and then race to eat the melting ice cream in the Arizona
sun. They end up with sticky mouths, hands and shirts and Louis
gets a few pictures of Harry licking his cone erotically. The funny
thing is, they both decide as they review the photos, is that Harry
wasn't intending to be erotic. He was just eating the cone.

"It's your tongue," Louis muses. "It's ridiculous."

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"Thank you?" Harry tilts his head, "I think?"
"Definitely a compliment," Louis says nodding quickly.
"Personally, I'm a big fan of your tongue."

Harry actually blushes as he tries to cover it with a laugh. Louis

smirks and finishes the last bit of his cone. He knows they're not
talking about it - the things they've been doing - but acknowledging
them in daylight, even as a joke, feels a bit therapeutic.

"You should use those pictures on your blog. Erotic cone licking.
You'd get a niche following, I bet."
Harry laughs and rolls his eyes, popping the smallest point of his
cone into his mouth. "I'm actually behind on my blog. Any
following I did have has long gone. I'll probably catch up once I'm
home."

"Why are you behind?" Louis asks as they walk back to the car,
waving at the sweet woman who served them their organic cones.

"I don't know," Harry muses with a cheeky smile, "Something about
tongues and orgasms, I would imagine."

Louis laughs with his head tipped back to the sun, letting the sun
soak into his curved cheeks. In the car, he leans over Harry to get
out the hand sanitizer wipe he stole from a barbecue restaurant in
Texas to wipe off their sugary, sweet, and sticky hands.

"Thanks for stopping," Louis says with a glance at Harry as he pulls

back to the route.

"Anything for you," Harry says seriously before coughing. "I mean
anything for ice cream." He looks out the window on the opposite
side and Louis has no idea if he actually just said something he

471
meant or if he's being cheeky again but he feels the butterflies in his
stomach start to rustle.
*

The first thing they see in Havasu City is a group of women as old
as their moms in bikinis but instead of wearing tops they've opted
for strategically placed nipple covers of differing shapes and
designs. Louis slows the Jeep to let them all cross the road and he's
pretty sure he and Harry both gawk for longer than is socially
acceptable.

"Spring break, baby," Louis hums as the group makes it safely to

the other side.

Harry smiles and licks his bottom lip. "I'd quite like some. A gold
pair perhaps."

Louis laughs as he starts driving again, "That would look stunning

with your golden boots." "What golden boots?" Harry asks, looking
over with his eyebrows drawn together.
"You wore golden boots in Bricktown," Louis says, "When we went
out."
"I'm glad you noticed my boots," he muses. "I'm not sure anyone
pays that good of attention."
Louis doesn't really have an answer for that. If Harry only knew all
the things he's noticed about him in less than half a month.

472
Lake Havasu is mostly made up of resorts and hotels but there is
public beach access as well which is what Louis and Harry decide
on, planning to get a hotel later in the day.
They change into their swim shorts in a public changing room and
then grab out their beach towels and matching Route 66 snapbacks,
laughing as they both put them on backwards. Harry digs out some
sunscreen, his camera, and a book before they head out onto the
beach. There's a cabana on the way and Louis stops to buy water
bottles and some protein bars, taking note of the sack lunch options
for later.

As they've now twirled into the off-peak season of the end of the
summer, the beach is hardly crowded - just pleasantly full. There
are giant blue umbrellas every few paces that people have claimed
as their shade spots. Louis finds one in the middle of a throng of
people but when Harry points to one a bit further back but more
secluded they both head right for it.

The water is more green than teal but Louis forgives Harry for his
false reference pictures because the landscape around the lake is
breathtaking, the blue sky endless over them.

"I think I'm going to lay out first," Harry says thoughtfully as
he looks around. "And then swim. And then lay out again."

Louis laughs, "And then swim again?"

"And then have a drink," Harry says. "Did you see those guys
drinking something pink out of mason jars?" Louis shakes his head.
Admittedly, as they walked he was focused on Harry's ass in his
blue shorts and not much else. "Well that's what I want."

473
"Okay, princess," Louis says lightly. "We'll get you a drink in a
mason jar."

Harry nods once, "Great." His lips twitch into an almost smile that
he tries to hide.
They lay out their towels and lather on sunscreen, helping each
other with their backs and shoulders. Louis takes a bit longer with
Harry than he would anyone else, making sure he's thorough. He
finishes by tickling Harry's hips and kissing the side of his neck just
because he can. It makes Harry squawk like a bird and they both
end up laughing as they get a few offhand looks thrown their way.
The water is almost warm when they venture in, swimming out past
most of the crowd and floating around on their backs. The lake
doesn't stay perfectly round and there are sporadic inlets around the
edges. They both dog paddle to one of the smaller ones with no one
around and take turns diving to the bottom to try and touch before
coming back up.

"For all our water activities, you only used your waterproof lens
thing once," Louis points out when Harry mentions wanting to see
at the bottom of the lake.

"My mind has been on other things," Harry says, treading water and
letting it run through the gaps in his fingers. "Wouldn't it be cool,
though? To see the bottom?"

Louis drifts toward one of the inlet walls and sets his heels on a low
shelf of rocks to give himself a break from swimming. He doesn't
want anyone to be finding his body at the bottom of the lake
because he dies of exhaustion. "I guess," he says. "Would probably
just be dark in a picture though."

474
Harry ducks under the water and comes back up. He pushes his hair
out of his face and smiles. "I don’t mean a picture. But if you just
drained the lake completely and saw what was on the bottom."

"You can't just go draining lakes, H. Think of the environment."

"Would you use your imagination for one second?" Harry plays up
his frustration. "Set down the lawyer logic."

Louis smiles and tips his head back toward the sun. "Are you telling
me I'll be a good lawyer?"'

Harry floats closer to him. "Yes, you'll be amazing." He says it so

confidently that even though they're just joking around Louis wants
to believe him. The kind of power Harry has over him is truly mind
blowing.

"Back to the lake," Harry says, catching Louis's attention again. "It
would be so cool to see what people have left over down there,
things they haven't realized they lost.

"I'd guess there are a lot of flip flops, phones and soggy t-shirts."

"How about a locket?"

Louis rolls his eyes, "Sunk into the ocean after eighty-four years?"

Harry's smile widens. "You know Titanic?"

"Is that a question?" Louis raises one eyebrow. "Who doesn't know
Titanic?"

"Is it weird that I'm a little turned on right now?"

Louis actually cackles with his head thrown back and it echoes in
their private space. He reaches for Harry as he's laughing and finds

475
him easy to pull in surrounded by water like this. He doesn't let go
until Harry is pressed right up against him so they can kiss, one
hand holding Harry's jaw.

"You're ridiculous," Louis whispers against his lips. I think I could

fall in love with you, is what he doesn't say out loud.
When Louis paddles back to shore, he has a Harry on his back, his
arms wrapped around Louis's shoulders and his chin tucked next to
Louis's neck. They feel weightless like this as Harry kicks along
with him, the smell of sunscreen, sunshine, and water washing over
them in slight waves.

They lay out on their towels to dry off, the sun taking away the
stray drips of water on their bodies and warming them up straight to
their core. Louis keeps his eyes closed and spreads his fingers,
running right into Harry's hand. He goes to pull away but Harry
takes Louis's hand in his, simple as anything, twisting their fingers
together under the afternoon sun.

Eventually Louis dozes though he doesn't quite realize that's his

intention until he's waking up again. Waking up to Harry's chin on
his chest as Harry studies his face. Louis isn't surprised when he
blinks his eyes open beneath his sunglasses. It feels normal to find
Harry like this now, always somewhere close by, somehow
touching Louis when he sleeps. He remembers the morning in
Sedona he woke up to Harry's back to him but pushes the thought
away immediately, that's for a different time.

"Hi, there," he says when Harry's eyes meet his through their
sunglasses.

476
"Hi," Harry says with a smile that Louis pretends is only for him.
He's yet to see Harry give it to anyone else so, technically, it may
be.
Slowly, Harry reaches out for Louis's face and traces his cheekbone
with two fingers. Louis closes his eyes under Harry's stare, the way
he drags his fingers down lower and then over Louis's bottom lip
twice. He's already expecting it when Harry kisses him, presses
their sun warmed lips together sweetly. Louis hums into the kiss,
smiling before he can stop himself.
He's already known he could get used to mornings with Harry, and
nights, too but this - waking up from a mid-afternoon nap to this
boy on top of him would be nothing short of everything. He prays
Harry can't feel the way his heart beats wildly in his chest.

"I'm hungry," Harry murmurs against his lips. He pulls back and
puts his chin on Louis's chest again. "Are you?"

"Always," Louis says. "I'm literally always hungry."

"My man," Harry laughs, kissing the curve of Louis's pectoral

muscle. Louis laughs and closes his eyes again, those two words
making his heart pinch.

"Do you want to stay here and get sandwiches from the shack or
should we wander?"

"Let's wander," he says, smiling when Louis runs a hand along his
lower back lightly. "I'm up for an adventure with you."

"Yeah?" Louis taps his ass and grins, "You've come so far, baby.
Going on adventures all the time now."

Harry laughs and kisses Louis again. "You're rubbing off on me."

477
Louis lifts his hips against Harry's thigh. "Yeah?"

"Gross," Harry says loudly as he rolls back to his own towel,

laughing.

They end up wandering along a pier they find behind where they
had originally parked. There are different cafes and restaurants
along the water with people riding their bikes and roller skating,
some jogging along casually. "I would die," Harry says stoically as
someone runs by in leggings and a long sleeve shirt. Louis agrees
easily.

Harry takes pictures at the edge of the pier and Louis holds onto the
back hem of his shirt like that will keep him from falling in. They
happen to be in time for a small parade of corgis going by wearing
rainbow capes and Louis thinks Harry may go into cardiac arrest as
he gets on his knees to take their photos as they prance past. There's
a few babies toddling along in rainbow outfits to match the dogs
and Harry restrains from taking their photos but watches with such
a saccharine smile on his face Louis almost gets a toothache.

They eat salads at one of the cafes they find and Louis doesn't
complain about it. His body will probably be so shocked by the
vegetables during digestion he'll get a stomach ache but he doesn't
think about that as he eats. Harry eats kale willingly and Louis has
to make fun of him for turning into a Los Angeles shell of himself.
Harry seems to take offense to it and refuses to speak for at least
thirty seconds.
At the very end of the pier they find a boat that seats six and serves
wine for a cruise around the lake. There isn't even a question
between the two of them as they purchase tickets for the next ride.

478
"Oh, it's like a romantic thing," Harry mutters once they get on the
small jet boat. There are three bench seats with lap blankets folded
under the seats.

Louis wouldn't necessarily say it has to be romantic but as the sun

starts to set he could see the potential. Not to mention that
everything he does with Harry feels like it flirts with romance.
Fuck, they ate Kraft macaroni cheese and managed to make it feel
like they were on a date.
They choose the bench in the middle because the blankets under it
are maroon and Harry thinks they're prettier than the others. Louis
shrugs in agreement, not that they'll actually need a blanket. It feels
like it's still bordering on one hundred degrees or possibly more. As
they settle, two other couples get on board, one younger and one
older, neither making eye contact as the go to their respective seats.

"We're a bit underdressed," Louis whispers to Harry when he

notices the dresses and button-down shirts around them.

"Really?" Harry smirks, "These are my fanciest swim trunks."

They both look down at where Harry's shorts cut at the middle of
his thigh and then simultaneously looking up to Harry's grey tank
top with a sewn-on pocket and a black heart. Louis laughs when he
sees the gap at the side, and he pokes Harry's exposed nipple.

"I can see your nipple, babe."

Harry sighs, "If we'd found my nipple pasties, I'd be all sorted."
Louis laughs so hard he snorts and then hides his face against
Harry's chest to avoid from the wandering eyes around them.

479
There's a brief safety speech from the captain of the boat and then
he brings them each a menu to order their glasses of wine before
they take off. Louis remembers their canoe ride from earlier in the
trip and thinks he prefers this kind of boat ride - pressed tight with
Harry, the sky on fire overhead, a chilled glass of white wine in his
hand. He leans over and kisses Harry squarely on the lips just
before the boat takes off, kissing his cheek before he pulls back.
Harry manages to blush under his lips and send Louis's stomach
butterflies into a flurry.

The moment the boat takes off from the dock, Louis realizes the
intention of the blankets - the breeze seeping straight through their
clothes and cooling them off immediately. He hands Harry his wine
as he unfurls the one under their seats and spreads it over their legs.
"Thanks," Harry says, handing Louis's wine back. "I didn't see that
coming."

"Me neither," Louis laughs, pressing in closer to Harry and pressing

the side of his head to Harry's shoulder. He takes a sip of his wine
and looks up to the sky, smiling.

*
When the boat drops them at the dock again, the sun has
disappeared and the stars have all made an appearance. Louis
laughs when he sees Harry's hair all messed up and then tries to fix
his own when Harry points out it looks like a ruffled bird's nest.
Neither one is all that hurried to find a hotel so they get an outdoor
table at another restaurant by the water and order slices of
cheesecake. They don't talk about much - just how Louis's sister
sent him a recipe for Corn Chowder out of nowhere and Harry
hopes his plants survived the summer in the community garden -

480
but neither one of them can stop smiling. Louis's heart feels so
much lighter than it did yesterday afternoon when he felt like
everything had the potential to make him start crying. He knows
that feeling is going to come back, he knows they haven't figured
anything out, haven't even addressed if they want to figure things
out, but he holds onto this night like starlight hoping it wont fade
when he closes his eyes.

They do a quick Google search for a hotel and find a reasonable one
at the edge of Lake Havasu City. It's called a Lakeview Hilton Inn
but as they drive away from the lake, Harry agrees with Louis that a
lake view sounds doubtful. There's a green vacancy sign out front
which is all they actually care about so they take it happily.

Harry goes in first and Louis follows with their bags just Harry is
asking for a room. He stops in the doorway, listening.

"We just need one room for one night," Harry says, not even
glancing back at Louis.

"We have a lot of openings," the girl behind the counter says as she
looks at the computer. "We have doubles open in all sizes and we
have a standard king or queen. Basically whatever combination you
want."

Louis swears he doesn't hold his breath though his lungs probably
don't agree.

"The one standard king is perfect," Harry says taking out his wallet
from his back pocket. He sees Louis then and he pauses, smiling
sheepishly at him, clearly curious how much Louis has heard.

481
Louis feels fizz in his legs as he walks forward, a small smile on his
lips. He loops one arm low around Harry's stomach, pressing his
palm to his belly over his tank top. He kisses the back of his
shoulder as Harry hands over his card to pay for the room. Louis
swears he feels the tension leave Harry's body beneath his lips.

*
For once Louis isn't bothered when Harry cranks the air
conditioning the moment he enters the room. Especially now when
Harry is laying out naked on the bed, goosebumps rising on his
shower damp skin as he looks over at Louis.

Louis adjusts his grip on the towel around his waist. Harry
showered first and Louis honestly expected him to be asleep by the
time he finished but clearly Harry's not interested in sleeping.

"It's too hot for clothes," he says, syrupy slow as his eyes travel
over Louis's chest.
Louis swallows, already feeling his skin heating under Harry's eyes.
His eyes catch on a familiar bottle of lube and scattering of
condoms on the nightstand. Harry has come prepared, tonight.
Louis smirks and unceremoniously drops his towel to the ground
letting the cool air from the room rush over him. Harry grins and
reaches out with grabby hands, Louis can't even pretend to resist.

Once they start, the cool room isn't on their minds as they kiss and
explore with teasing touches, biting and licking wherever their
tongues touch. Louis opens Harry up almost as slow as last time,
circling the tip of his cock with his tongue as he presses his first
finger in and then follows with another. Harry stays blissed out with
sweat shining on his stomach, his legs kicking sporadically as Louis
stretches him.

482
Louis kisses along his hips and bites the insides of his thighs,
smiling when Harry groans loudly. Louis does it again and Harry
actually sits up with his angry kitten face in full force, "Do you
want this entire to hotel to hear me come or, what?"

Louis laughs and twists his fingers inside of Harry to make his
mouth drop open so prettily. "I think that's up to you, not me,"
Louis says, kissing the tip of his cock and then sucking it between
his lips again. Harry yells out as he falls back against the bed again
and Louis laughs with his mouth full. It may be the first time he's
laughed with someone's dick in his mouth.

"Please, dear god, fuck me," Harry whispers when Louis switches
between spreading his fingers and twisting them, his tongue tracing
dirty shapes.

"We'll get there," Louis says, smirking. He kisses up Harry's belly

and then meets his lips, kissing him hard for a few moments until
they're both a bit breathless. Harry reaches for a condom wordlessly
and hands it over.

Harry's jaw drops open as Louis presses in, still slowly and
controlled with his hands on Harry's hips. Louis gets halfway and
then stops, laughing when Harry hooks his heels around his thighs
and pushes him the rest away.

"Desperate, yeah?" Louis mutters, starting to move slowly.

Harry squirms under him as he adjusts and then he matches Louis's

rhythm with slow rolls of his hips. It's a hypnotizing heat between
them, electric when they kiss and swallow the sounds they make
low in their throats. Harry digs his nails into the meat of Louis's ass
and throws his head back in unabashed pleasure and Louis can't get

483
enough of it. He's never been with someone who wears sex the way
Harry does. He's flushed head to chest, his lips bitten red and eyes
dark, hair a sweat mess. His abs tighten when he rolls his hips, his
hands going anywhere he'll let them as Louis fucks into him. Harry
wears it on his face too, his pulled together eyebrows and relaxed
mouth, the way his eyelashes flutter and each sigh come out shaky
when Louis gets him close.
Louis walks him to the edge again and again, speeding his hips only
to slow and catch Harry's keening sound in a memory he'll keep.

"Louis," Harry actually yells when Louis pulls out so only his tip is
breaching Harry.

"Patience, baby," Louis murmurs as he pushes in again, punching

the breath from the bottom of
Harry's stomach. "I'm taking care of you."

That somehow sends Harry's eyes rolling back into his head as he
writhes on the bed. He reaches for his cock and Louis bats his
hand away, his hands tightening on Harry's hips.

"Don't get handsy, darling," he says. "I'll have to tie you up."

He feels rather than sees Harry's reaction as he clenches around him

and drops his mouth open again in a silent yell. Louis pauses,
Harry's eyes flying open when he does. He smiles shyly as he
realizes why Louis stopped.

"Do you -" Louis swallows, "Do you want that?"

Harry licks his lip, "I want to come, baby. That's what I want."

484
How Harry's words send fireworks behind Louis's ribs, he may
never know. Louis rocks his hips slowly, "Hold onto the
headboard," he instructs. "How's that?"

He smiles at Harry's shattered breath as he lifts his hands up to the

headboard, curling his fingers around the wooden slats.

"Good?" Louis asks, starting to move his hips in teasing circles.

"Uh, yeah," Harry says. He inhales and hollows his belly before
exhaling it into a balloon. "I definitely won't last like this."

Louis laughs and runs his hand back through his sweaty hair. "Try
your best." He moves on his knees and lifts one of Harry's legs up
around his hip to spread him even more. Then he presses in close
with his hips and pulls back slowly, testing again. Harry nods
adamantly that Louis should continue and Louis smirks.

They catch a new rhythm like this, Harry pulled tight and all on
display, his arm muscles flexing up over his head as his fingers
twitch against the headboard. He doesn't touch but uses the bed as
leverage to fuck himself down, his hip rolls turning filthy. Louis
leans forward to bite Harry's lip, pulling it back and then releasing
it with another gentle kiss over the top. He drives his hips in and
then further again as Harry gasps, his abs clenching. "You close,
darling?" Louis asks. "You going to come for me? Without me
touching you?"

Harry shakes his head and then starts nodding suddenly as his eyes
flutter again. "Yeah, fuck, yeah," he says, seemingly surprised by
his own body.

Louis didn't think he'd actually be able to but now that there's a
possibility, he feels his own orgasm building even quicker at the
base of his stomach. Harry is a wet dream and, here, in this

485
moment, he only belongs to Louis. Louis drops Harry's leg and puts
his hands on both of Harry's hips to hold him still as he drives in.
He circles his hips until he finds Harry's spot, both of them going
silent in the desperation of their lingering release.

"It's -" Harry starts and then he goes quiet again. His hips lift even
under the force Louis's hands and he spills all over his stomach, his
eyes rolling backward as his back bows. Louis releases his hips to
finally get a hand on him, pulling with a firm grip to work Harry
fully through his orgasm, watching the way his face tenses and
relaxes with each roll of pleasure.

"Keep going," Harry whispers when he opens his eyes. "Come

inside me."

Louis doesn't need much more encouragement than that, his hips
starting up a steady pace again in eager pursuit of his own orgasm. He
feels it like fire, white hot heat collecting until it spills up over the
edges and consumes him, his hand resting on Harry's stomach as he
starts to feel his favorite kind of tug in his stomach. Offhandedly, he
notices Harry's ring still on his finger and then Harry's hand is
covering his own, twisting their fingers tight just as Louis's vision
blurs and he comes all at once, absolutely losing control.

*
They clean up and get in bed together, pressed tight together
everywhere possible with only the sheet over them as their skin still
feels fever hot to the touch. Louis turns the television on and Planet
Earth comes on first, a documentary about flamingoes. "This
okay?" He asks, dropping the controller and yawning.

Harry nuzzles against his neck and Louis isn't sure that he's even
awake. "It's like our first night," he says.

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It takes Louis a second to remember. "The elephants?"

Harry lifts his head and smiles sleepily. "The elephants."

Louis smiles and kisses him before Harry readjusts back to his
comfortable position. Louis traces designs on Harry's arm in
silence, remembering that first night. He didn't think this was ever
going to be a possibility; at the time he didn't even want it to be.
"It's crazy how much has changed," Harry says quietly.

"Crazy," Louis echoes, swallowing. He runs a gentle hand through

Harry's hair and feels his eyelashes starting to flutter as he closes
them for sleep.

It's crazy how they started, crazy where they are now. Not for the
first night in the past few days, Louis falls asleep with a silent
prayer it won't all drop out from underneath him like a pulled out
rug.

DAY SIXTEEN

Lake Havasu City, Arizona

The morning light brings cool relief in the air and they both doze
off and on now that they're not sweating. Harry doesn't seem in a
hurry to leave after he wakes up and mumbles something about
being so tired he can't move before falling into a sleepy doze again.

Louis feels more awake than usual so he gets out of bed and makes
sure Harry has a pillow under his head before he sets about figuring
out how to use the coffee pot in the corner room. He uses more
coffee than it requires in order to make it strong enough for both of
him and then he keeps a steady eye on the machine to make sure it

487
doesn't do anything weird, like explode. He doesn't want to have to
spend the rest of his life paying for a hotel he burned down.

"Is that coffee?" Harry mumbles from the bed once it's finished
brewing and their room smells like a coffee shop.
"Yeah," Louis says, turning over two cups from the holder in the
corner. He inspects both for cleanliness before setting them right
side up on the counter. "Do you want a cup?"
"Please," Harry murmurs, setting up the pillows around him so he
can sit up better.

Louis fills both mugs and then carries them carefully to the bed,
handing them to Harry as he retakes his spot next to him. Harry
refuses to give the mugs back until Louis kisses him and then,
satisfied, he hands Louis his with a smile.

They watch a Friends re-run as they drink their coffee quietly, the
morning light sending gentle hazy curves over them. Harry thumbs
through the hotel brochure, says he's curious is there is actually a
lake view from anywhere in the hotel. "Otherwise, you're suing
them for false advertising," Harry says confidently, kissing Louis's
shoulder before he goes back to perusing.

"Okay, sweetheart," Louis mutters halfway through catching up on

Instagram and not fully listening.

"No lake," Harry declares a moment later. "Liars," he hisses. Louis

laughs. "You can rent various sports equipment, though.
Skateboards, bikes, roller skates."

"Lovely," Louis says setting his empty mug on the side table. "Do
you skateboard?"

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Harry smiles, "Do I look like someone who skateboards?"

"All artsy and shit," Louis says motioning vaguely. "I could see it."

Harry laughs, "Yeah, no. I don't. Do you? I remember you said you
wanted one for Christmas when everyone else wanted a horse."

"I haven't in ages," Louis says, pulling on his bottom lip and trying
to remember the last time he did. "Probably when I was a freshman
in college," he says, "Going through the dorm halls."
"Of course you were that guy," Harry says. "I hated that guy."

"That guy," Louis imitates Harry's voice with a roll of his eyes.
"Did you abide by quiet hours at all times?"

"I like rules," Harry says lightly. "I like quiet."

Louis sighs, "You're a nerd."

Harry sighs right back at him. "Thanks, punk."

"I'll teach you to skateboard sometime," Louis says, meeting

Harry's eyes. It feels more significant than it should be when Harry
nods and smiles softly.

"I'd really like that," he says.

*
They cross the border to California thirty minutes after they leave
the hotel and instead of the impending relief of the end of the trip
looming, Louis starts to feel car sick. He rolls down the window
quietly and takes a deep breath of the hot, stale, desert air. It does
nothing to help him.

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"Almost there," Harry says quietly as they pass the sign that says,
'Welcome to California'. Louis thinks he detects a note of sadness in
his voice but, as usual, he can't be sure what Harry is actually
thinking.

The moment they leave Arizona it seems they both start to itch, a
cloud lingering over them they can't quite make their way out of, a
bad omen California drapes over them. First, Louis snaps at Harry
for passing two gas stations when they need to fill up the tank and
then they can't find another one for a few miles which makes them
both irritable. At the gas station they do stop at, Harry buys a
yogurt parfait for his breakfast while Louis fills up the car. He eats
it while they're on the road and Louis takes a turn driving.
"Tastes funny," Harry mutters. Louis glances over as Harry looks at
the expiration date and then immediately starts gagging. Louis
veers the car to the nearest shoulder and Harry gets out to throw up,
his retching making Louis nauseous.

"What's wrong?" Louis calls out to him, sweat already starting to

prick at his neck and back as all of the cool air conditioned air
filters out into the desert with the inside of Harry's stomach.

"It's a week past the expiration is what," Harry says over his
shoulder, not bothering to hide his frustration.

"That's not my fault." Louis rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over
his chest as Harry wipes off his face and takes a drink of water. He
swishes it around his mouth and then spits. He sits at the edge of his
seat with his feet outside the car, his head hanging down.

"If you're done, do you want to shut the door?" Louis asks. "It's hot
as fuck."

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Harry tosses him an angry glare before he gets out of the car
altogether, shutting the door on Louis.
Louis doesn't even care as he turns the air conditioning up a bit
higher.

"Are you okay?" Louis asks when Harry gets back in the car
because he's irritated but not an asshole.

"Fine," Harry mumbles. "My stomach feels funny, still."

Louis adjusts the air and then presses the back of his hand to
Harry's forehead and cheek gently. "You're probably getting
overheated
too," he says quietly. He twists the cap off his water bottle and
hands it over to Harry like a peace offering.

"Today's weird," Harry mutters once he thanks Louis.

"Yeah, it is," Louis says as he steers the car back to the highway. He
already hates it.

Needles, California is disgustingly hot and the air seems to shake

under the pressure of the heat.
The road continues flat into the horizon and though there are
mountains they seem far off and scattered against the rolling desert.

"What are we doing here, H?" Louis asks as he notices the

navigation is counting down to a mere few minutes left until their
destination. There's nothing for miles around them and he isn't in
the mood to be lost. He tries to keep the edge out of his voice.

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"There's a sign," Harry says as they curve around a bend. "Right
there."

Louis hits the brakes and glances around. "Where?"

"Lower," Harry says with a smile coloring his words.

"Oh fuck, babe, this is what you want to see?" Louis's eyes widen at
the Route 66 painted onto the asphalt with thick white lines.

"It's the Route 66 classic," Harry says.

"It was a must." Louis hums,

"Debatable." Harry flicks his arm.

They get out of the car and Louis swears he's going to melt into the
asphalt as soon as he shuts the door behind him. "Let's make this
quick," he says, already heading for the sign. "It's hot and I don't
want to be killed by a car. My insides would not be a flattering
addition to this sign."

Harry actually giggles as he gets his camera from the back of the
car and joins Louis by the painted sign. "Stop being morbid."

Harry takes a few pictures of the sign from above and then he
crouches lower. He makes Louis crouch by the sign for a shot and
then tries to get a shot of Louis jumping over the sign because,
according to him, he's seen it on Instagram. Louis does it twice and
then stops declaring the over exertion bad for his wellbeing in the
heat.

Louis takes the camera back as Harry takes his turn as the Route 66
model, doing a few of the jumping shots though Louis isn't as quick
at getting them and makes him jump nearly twelve times before he

492
gets a decent one. He gets some of Harry kneeling by the sign, a
few of Harry looking bored while waiting for Louis's art direction.
It's some of Louis best photography work, he'd say.

"Lay down by it," Louis suggests. "Like one of those poster girls,
on your side."

Harry laughs and then kneels on the pavement. It's the dumbest
thing Louis has ever asked of him as Harry screams and stands back
up quickly, the asphalt hotter than the air around them and singing
his bare knees.

"Oh fuck," Louis says when he realizes what happened. "That was
dumb, I'm so sorry."
"I'm the one who did it," Harry says through gritted teeth. Louis
crouches in front of him and touches gingerly at the reddened skin,
pulling out a few stray asphalt pieces where they stick to him.

"Does it hurt?" Louis asks.

"No, it's just hot." Harry says, "Stung at first."

Louis brushes his lips just above Harry's knee and stands back up.
"You sure?"'

"Yeah," Harry nods and takes the camera back from Louis as they
walk to the car. "I don't like today."

Louis nods, the car sick feeling in his stomach rising again even
outside of the car.
"Understatement," he says.

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They stop for lunch at a cafe with a huge sign advertising the air
conditioning inside. It’s not as though there are that many other
options between Needles and the Mojave Desert.
“It’s too fucking hot to eat,” Harry says as he twists his fork through
his salad.
Louis has a salad too since it was the only thing that didn’t sound
like it would make him sweat and he’s not that enthusiastic about it.
“How do people live like this? How are they not miserable all the
time?”

Harry shakes his head, “No fucking clue.”

That is pretty much where their lunch conversation ends as they
both eat their salads in heavy silence. Louis doesn’t have the energy
to keep up a conversation anyway and, by the pout on Harry’s face,
he doesn’t either. Before they leave, Harry refills their glasses of
water and refuses to leave until they both finish. “I don’t want us to
be dehydrated,” he says when Louis rolls his eyes at the demand.
“Okay?”
Louis licks his lip and chugs the glass, knowing they’re going to
have to stop so he can pee sooner rather than later. Harry’s concern
is cute but in the heat of the afternoon, it’s also annoying as hell.

*
The Mojave Desert is only an hour more down the road but Louis is
pretty sure the Jeep is running on a track without actually moving,
like a treadmill, considering the scenery around them hardly
changes. The sky gets to be a deeper blue but the desert stays
barren, dry and empty all around them.

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The first interesting thing they find is a field of purple desert
flowers, laying low to the ground with white flowers interspersed
between them.
“Can we stop?” Harry asks in a way that doesn’t really sound like a
question at all.
“For what?” Louis asks, glancing over. The flowers are pretty but
they’re just flowers. He’s pretty sure there will be more wherever
they’re going.
“So I can take a fucking picture,” Harry snaps like he’s read Louis’s
inner dialogue. “What else would we be stopping for?”
“Don’t be a jerk,” Louis says with a roll of his eyes as they pull
over to the side of the road.

“Sorry,” he mumbles back, a half chewed apology.

The car is far too hot to sit in and Louis isn’t interested in wasting
gas so he gets out this time, immediately sweating as soon as his
feet hit the pavement. Harry is sweating too and by the time Louis
gets around the car, he’s fashioned his t-shirt into a crop top, tied up
around the center of his stomach. Louis laughs at the sight and it
feels like the first time he’s laughed in a couple of hours at least.
“Cute, yeah?” Harry says with a little hip pop as he goes to start
taking pictures of the flowers.
Louis leans back against the car with his arms crossed but quickly
pulls away from the hot metal against his back. He feels like he’s in
an oven, baking away like a tray of cookies. He’d assume the only
hope is that he doesn’t end up burnt like a cookie in the end.
For a moment, there’s a breeze that ripples through and Louis holds
his arms out to the sides to get the full effect. It’s still warm but he

495
nearly groans at the relief of it. It feels like a turning point as he
looks back at Harry taking his photos, camera pressed to his face, a
slim line of sweat shining on his lower back where his shirt is
pulled up. They’ve been off for a couple of hours but maybe they
can get back where they should be, the easy push and pull they
always have instead of this butting heads competition they’ve found
themselves in.
As soon as Louis thinks it, Harry drops his lens cap and it rolls
across the dirt. “Shit,” he says, watching it slip down a small hill.
“I’ll get it,” Louis says, treading carefully between the flowers and
into the small embankment.
When he grabs the lens, he also grabs four discarded cactus spikes
in the tips of his fingers. “Motherfucker,” he says quietly as he
starts to pull each one out. They sting and though there are only
pinpricks of blood, it’s the kind of wound that feels worse than it
looks. He hands back Harry’s lens cover as he shakes out his hand,
wincing.
“Can I kiss it better?” Harry asks sweetly.
Again, it would be cute if Louis wasn’t feeling in a terrible mood.
So much for his turning point.
“Not unless you want to suck my blood, too,” he mutters as he
trudges back to the car.

“Oh, kinky,” Harry says lightly before going back to his pictures.
Despite his best efforts, Louis feels the corners of a smile on his
face. There’s just something about Harry and it really shouldn’t
surprise him anymore. He gets in the car and turns the air
conditioning on despite wanting to save gas and leans back in his
seat. Harry finally comes back, drenched in sweat and with a scowl
as he holds up his hand with matching cactus pokes to Louis’s.

496
“Dropped my phone,” he says as an explanation as he sulks back
into his seat.
Louis shakes his head and puts the car in drive. He’s just going to
pray their first three hours in California are not an indication for
their relationship in the state as a whole.

His prayer, it seems, goes unanswered.

They get lost on the way to Mojave Desert National Preserve and
end up in a placed called Hayden which is an hour north of where
they’re supposed to be.

“We passed it?” Louis asks as Harry examines the map.

“The cell service is shit so the map is taking us some weird way. I
don’t -” he doesn’t continue his sentence as Louis plucks the phone
from Harry’s hands. “Impatient much?”
Louis ignores him, “Do we need to go to the preserve or will you be
happy with just seeing part of desert?”
Harry pushes both hands back through his hair and shrugs. “I really
don’t care.”
Louis tosses the phone to Harry and throws the car into a U-turn.
“We’re going to the edge of the desert. I’m sure it will be just as
exciting as the middle.”
Harry shrugs but doesn’t fight him and it seems like the biggest red
flag of the day that perhaps their world is spinning a different axis -
the fact Harry doesn’t care about seeing the main event and will
settle for an edge.

497
For what it’s worth, Louis thinks the edge does more than enough
for them. There’s a nice sign where Harry takes a picture and a
snack shack type of thing set up on the side of the road with a
parking area. Louis buys them both water but isn’t sure he trusts the
other perishables being offered. His phone is claiming its
onehundred-and-fifteen degrees and Harry has already puked once
today.
They find a picnic bench under a tree pretending to provide shade
and sit opposite each other, taking in the desert around them while
trying not to melt in the process.
“I do not miss this about Southern California,” Louis laments as his
sunglasses slip lower on his sweat damp face. “I feel disgusting.”
“It’s not usually like this in LA, though,” Harry says. He drinks a
quarter of his water bottle in one gulp.
“That’s true,” Louis says. “We usually flee before summer actually
starts.”
“Escape back to muggy Chicago,” Harry says, half-smiling.
“Quite the exchange. I think I like going home for Christmas the
most, though. Chicago snow is nice for two quick weeks and then
I’m ready to leave it behind for a sunny and seventy January at
school.”
Louis nods, agreeing easily. He didn’t choose USC for the weather
by any means but it certainly doesn’t hurt. “Will you drive or fly
back for break this year? Now that you have your car.”
Harry raises his eyebrows, “I honestly hadn’t thought about it. It
could be fun to go road trip up the west coast and then over.” He
presses his lips together and nods, “I definitely want to do that route
at some point. Not sure I’m a good mountain driver in December.”

498
“Don’t look at me,” Louis says putting his hands up. “I know I
wouldn’t be. Ice in Chicago is not a problem, ice on a fucking
mountain? Might be a different story.”
“Will you go home for Christmas this year?” Harry asks. He rests
his chin on his hand as he looks at Louis.
“Yeah,” Louis says and then rubs at his face. “I can’t even look
ahead to Christmas right now, though. It’s like the closer we get to
school, the more I realize how much is waiting for me there. I know
once law school starts, I’ll barely have time to breathe. Christmas
will probably come out of nowhere.”
Harry’s back tightens as he sits up straighter but Louis hardly
notices.
“That’s why this has been so nice,” he says. “This whole road trip
and everything.”
Harry swallows and reaches for his water. He taps it on the table.
“Why?”
“It’s like a refresh before school,” Louis says. “I’ll get this all out of
my system and then be ready to focus. It’s like a cleanse of mind,
body, and spirit.” He swears he says it tongue and cheek but Harry’s
jaw tightens and he looks down at the table. Louis swallows and
waits for him to look up but he doesn’t.

“It’s so fucking hot,” Louis says just for something to fill the space.
“I know,” Harry says, finally looking up. He doesn’t meet Louis’s
eyes but looks out over his shoulder. “Should we go?”
Louis is surprised Harry already wants to move on considering he
usually likes to spend an hour when they stop. They’ve only been

499
here for fifteen minutes. “Yeah, sure,” he says, swinging his legs
back over the bench to stand. “Where to next?”
“I was thinking we should find some water somewhere,” Harry

says, staring straight ahead. “We have some,” Louis points out

with a silly grin. Harry doesn’t so much as smirk.

“I think there’s a wading pool an hour or so north. I saw it on the

map when we were lost.”
Louis’s throat feels dry and something tells him it’s not the desert
doing it to him. “Let’s do it,” he says.
Harry holds out his hand for the keys and Louis hands them over
without a word. Something has just happened between them and
he’s not sure what. It feels like there is a wall being built and,
though the whole day has felt slightly off, this feels like a storm
brewing on the horizon.

*
The pool Harry saw on the map is small and overcrowded with
desert plants reaching out desperately for a drink. The water looks
like it could use a good rain to wash away some of the dust floating
and collecting in muddy balls in it. "Interesting," Louis says when
they park and walk over to the little pool. It's more like a cesspool
than anything he wants to wade in but he has a feeling now isn't the
time to point that out to Harry.

"Sorry," Harry says, "There's not a wide selection of lakes in the

driest desert in California."

500
Louis smiles and glances over at Harry, "Thank you for the fun fact
thrown in your defense."

Harry barely smiles before he swallows and walks further in toward

the pool. Louis sighs and follows after him; clearly they're going to
hang around the cesspool for longer than a quick glance.

Admittedly, the air is cooler near the water and when the breeze
rolls by it feels slightly more refreshing than out in the desert. It's
still no Santa Monica or Venice Beach but if Harry insists on them
being outside, Louis takes preference to the water - regardless of
how scarce it may be. There are a few rocks scattered around the
edge of the water and they sit on two of the biggest, Louis up
slightly higher than Harry. Closer, the water isn't as terrible as first
glance though it's more of a dull green than any of the lakes they've
seen in the past week.
"Do you think anything is living in there?" Louis asks. "Any sea
creatures lurking just under the surface waiting to attack?"
Harry glances over his shoulder at Louis and then back to the water.
"What a depressing life that would be, to live somewhere so small."

Louis sighs quietly. He's used to Harry ad-libbing off is stupid

ideas. Not taking them at face value and leaving it. "Yeah," he
agrees. "I guess so."

He studies Harry from the back in the following silence, the tense
line of his shoulders and the stiffness in his neck. Louis hates that
there are times he can't read Harry - where it's like looking at a
canvas but not being able to see the design. There are times he can
read Harry with just a look, a subtle glance. He reads Harry best
when they're touching, when Harry kisses him softly or grabs his
hand out of nowhere. He thinks he can read Harry when he sleeps

501
sometimes, the draw of his eyebrow or pout in his lip. The moments
like this, where he can't read anything, have become further and
fewer over the last few days but every once in awhile they slip and
Harry closes off.
Louis shakes his head at the thought. He doesn't have the energy to
over analyze Harry right now.

"Is everything okay?" Louis asks when the silence starts to draw on.
He's not at the point where he can let Harry sulk in the car for a few
hours and not care. He's at the point where he wants to be the one to
make Harry happy, make him feel better. Regardless of how
unwelcome that preference may be; it's where he is. He can admit
that much.

Harry shrugs and then answers. "I'm fine."

"Really?" Louis asks. "The shrug seems to send a different

message, babe."

Harry's shoulders tense at babe and that's when Louis really knows
something is going on.
"Seriously, Harry. What is it?"

Harry doesn't turn around when he answers with a tight, "Nothing."

Louis eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. "What's going on?" He

knows if he keeps poking, keeps asking, it's going to make Harry
explode like dynamite. There are times Harry lays his heart out on
the line, vulnerable in the best way when he wants Louis to learn
more about him. Then there are moments like this. Moments where
getting him to open up is like pulling teeth.

"Harry," Louis sighs, "Will you just tell me what the problem is?"

502
"There's no problem." Harry finally glances over his shoulder and
his dark eyes are enough to make Louis sit up a bit straighter.

"Obviously something is wrong. I can tell you’re pissed about

something and if you tell me there's nothing wrong one more time, I
will actually start screaming." He means it as a joke but it doesn’t
land quite right.

Harry twists around to look at him, "You want to know the

problem?"

"Yes," Louis says confidently. He doesn't like Harry's voice but he

wants to get whatever this is out in the open.

"The problem is that I like you Louis. That's the fucking problem."

Louis blinks twice, his lips parted. "Why is that a problem?"

Harry scoffs and looks back toward the water but Louis isn't going
to let him go softly.

"Uh, no, you don't get to brush me off, Harry. What are you talking
about?"
Harry doesn't look back this time when he speaks. "You don't know
how I feel about you Louis."

It's like deja vu in a sudden rush as Louis is taken back to the night
in Colorado when Harry said the same thing. His mouth is dry as he
says, "What?"

Harry half laughs and it's so bitter Louis feels the edges of his heart
prick. "You don't like me the way I like you."

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"You're kidding," Louis says, amazed. He can't believe this is the
conversation they're having. Not when he's been bending
backwards to keep from falling for Harry and he's yet to master it.

"No, I'm really not," Harry says, shaking his head with his words.
His voice is heavy when he speaks. "I know you don't want a
relationship, I get it. You don't like commitment and you've said
that since the start but," he swallows, "I guess I'm still the idiot who
catches feelings for the guy who doesn't feel the same way."

Louis's eyes feel like they're going to fall out of his head without
warning. Harry is saying everything he's ever wanted to hear but the
words are dry and half chewed, bitterness lacing through them.
"How can you say that?" Louis asks, disbelieving. "How can you
not see the way I've been falling for you?"

All this time he thought Harry was pulling away while Harry
thought it was Louis turning his back. Louis closes his eyes and
rubs at the crease between his eyebrows. "Will you look at me, H?
This isn't a conversation I want to have with your back."

"We're not having a conversation," Harry says quietly. "There's

nothing to talk about."
Louis almost laughs but it gets stuck in his throat. "You're kidding,
right? You told me we shouldn't talk about what we're doing - when
we kiss or when we fuck or when we fucking sleep in the same bed -
and now you say there's nothing to talk about?" Harry lifts a
shoulder and lets it drop. It's like he's defeated.
"Please look at me," Louis says, voice tight. "Please, Harry."

Harry turns on the rock slowly until he can sit criss-crossed to face
Louis fully. His jaw is tight but when he looks up Louis sees
everything he knows about Harry lingering in the green of his eyes.

504
The guy he's falling in love with is behind those eyes and that’s the
exact moment when Louis knows he’s willing to fight to make him
understand how good they can be together. He won’t let Harry slip
away into silence.

"I really like you, Harry," Louis says. He wants to be louder but his
voice is caught in his throat. "More than you probably understand."

"You don't," Harry says, lifting his chin. "Not really."

"How can you even say that?" Louis tries to keep the frustration out
of his voice but he's not sure it works.

"You don't actually know me," Harry says with a shrug. "You know
me on a vacation but not in the real world. It’s like a honeymoon
phase."

Louis presses his hands to his own cheeks and then drops them,
frustration bubbling under his lungs. "Why do you get to say you
like me but when I do the same, you decide I must be lying?" Harry
clenches his jaw and looks away.

"No," Louis says far too loudly. He quiets his voice. "We're not
doing this thing where we have half a conversation and it stops. I'm
sick of it, Harry. I'm trying to give you my heart and you just keep
handing it back like it's a piece of trash."

"Stop saying stuff like that," Harry says. When he looks back there's
hurt in his eyes and Louis has to glance away. "Please."

"Why? Because it's true?" Louis lifts his jaw higher. "Is it that hard
to believe?"

505
"Does it even matter?" Harry retaliates with a question. "Regardless
of how we feel, we could never make this work. It works right now
because we're living in a bubble. It would never work when we
actually get to campus."

The bubble. Louis's favorite thing about this trip has been the way
they've gotten to know each other uninterrupted in the bubble.
"You realize that's not a valid excuse right? Just because we're
doing fun things together doesn't mean I haven't gotten to know all
the other boring things about you too."

Harry raises his eyebrows, clearly doubtful.

Louis shakes his head and rubs his eyes. He can tell Harry wants to
run but he won't let him. "Stuff like the way you snore when you're
the most tired, how you look grumpy when you wake up even if
you're not, the way you talk with food in your mouth, and take fries
off my plate without asking. You drive with two hands when you're
nervous about something or pissed at me, and you always squish
water bottles when you finish drinking from them. Your fingers
twitch when you talk and you twist your rings when you don’t
know how to say something."
Louis's mind is quick firing at him and he can't get his mouth to
stop spitting it all out. Harry won't even look at him, his eyes stuck
on the boulder space between them.

"You have a freckle under your ear and a scar on your knee, you eat
tongue first and you sleep on the left side of the bed even when you
sleep alone. You close your eyes when you look at the stars like
you're making a wish and you hold my hand like it's your favorite
thing to do. You always wear printed socks and you don't like when
I put my feet on the dashboard. You have a habit of wiggling your

506
nose before you sneeze and when we're in bed, I always tuck your
feet between my ankles because I know they get cold."
Louis takes a deep breath and it feels shuddering in his lungs. "I
know the big things Harry - like your sense of humor and how
smart you are, how fucking stubborn you can be, how to push all of
your buttons, even the not so good ones. But I know a lot of the
little stuff too." He swallows,
"There's no way you can tell me that doesn't matter."

He feels raw and exposed like he's just put everything he has on the
line. It’s only been two weeks but it may as well have been two
months. Getting to know Harry on the road has been getting to see
the good parts and the bad parts exactly as they are without any
hiding. The only thing they’ve been able to hide is they way they
feel about each other and even now, spilling out, it’s as messy and
convoluted as every other part of the last two weeks has been. Louis
doesn’t want it any other way - the truth is that he doesn’t want
anything other than for Harry to be his.
His heart plummets when Harry scrambles to his feet and walks
right past him without slowing down. Louis presses his forehead to
his knees and wills himself to not get emotional. He thought he
knew how this would play out when Harry started the conversation
by saying he liked him but this isn't it. This isn't it at all.
The thing about being in the desert is there's nowhere to run,
though. So when Louis stands up to go after Harry, he’s already
right behind him, his arms crossed and face braced for a fight.
"Why do you say stuff like that?" He asks, defiant.

"Like what?" This time the defeat rings in Louis's voice as he dusts
his palms on the front of his shorts.

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"All that stuff," Harry waves his hand around. “All the stuff you
like about me.”

"Because I mean it," Louis says. He lifts his hands up and lets them
drop again because he doesn’t know what else to do with them. "I
mean it all."

Harry blinks and drops his hands from his chest, opening his body
to Louis. "But why? You told me this trip was like a cleanse an hour
ago. You said you were getting this all out of your system."

Louis's eyes narrow as he shakes his head, not following. "Yeah, a

cleanse of having a good time before school starts. What does that
have anything to do with you?"

Harry sniffs and looks away. Louis's mind races through

possibilities until Harry looks at him again. "You can understand
why it would offensive to be called a cleanse, right?"

Louis actually laughs this time. "You thought I meant you?"

Harry stares at him. "Didn't you?"

"Of course not," Louis says quickly. The pieces all slip together -
the way Harry had tensed at his words at the picnic table. "I didn't
mean you, H. I want,” he runs his hands through his hair, desperate
for words he can’t make come. “I want you under my nails and in
the spaces between my ribs, Harry. Don't you get that yet?"

Harry sniffs again and Louis finally sees it's because his eyes keep
filling until he blinks the wetness away. Just seeing it makes Louis's
throat hurt.

"What about in a month when law school starts and you'll be so

busy you can't breathe? Will you want me then?"

508
Louis throws his hands up. Everytime he thinks he’s getting Harry
to understand him, Harry digs out some other side comment to
throw back at him. Louis refuses to give up. Not yet. "Fuck,
Harry, why are you pushing me away? Why do you keep doing
this?" "Doing what?" Harry raises his voice to match Louis's.
"Throwing out these fucking excuses. You'll do whatever it takes to
not believe what I'm telling you."

Harry swallows and shakes his head. Silence lingers and Louis
doesn't think he's going so say anything else. And, then, he does.
"I want to believe you, trust me. I started falling for you on day
fucking three of this trip.” He licks his bottom lip quickly and raises
his eyebrows, “I couldn’t decide if I hated you or wanted to kiss
you, honestly.”
Louis wants to laugh but he just straightens his shoulders instead.
For the first time in this conversation, Harry might actually say
something he means.
“I knew I couldn’t,” Harry says, his face settling back to
determination. “You told me yourself you weren’t planning to fall
in love, you said you don’t like relationships, you said not
committing is easy. You were clear from the beginning and then you
kissed me in Colorado. And I knew right then I didn’t stand a
chance.” He lifts his head and stares right into Louis’s eyes. “I
couldn’t help myself even when I tried. Every time I pulled away, I
fell right back into you like quicksand. I couldn’t stop. But now I
have to. I can't be the one left behind this time.

Like a montage in a hazy memory, Louis remembers all the times

Harry has pulled away from him, the funny look in his eyes when
Louis would talk about his romantic past, the way he woke up in

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the middle of the night after they first had sex and physically pulled
himself from Louis's arms. He didn't want to talk to Louis about
what they were doing because then he didn't have to admit
anything, not because he didn't care.

"You can't just decide to stop, Harry," Louis says, shaking his head
slowly. His heart is so heavy in his chest, he can feel each beat.
"You can't stop a feeling like this, you don't just turn it off like the
fucking faucet. I can't, at least."

Harry takes a step closer for the first time. "Louis, I have to look out
for myself. I've been here before."

"You haven't," Louis says. "Not like this. I know because I haven't
either. This is all uncharted territory but I want you. Everything else
can fade away, school can start, the weather can change but this
won't. I want you," he says, looking right into Harry's eyes. "I want
you."
Harry rubs his lips together but won't look into Louis's eyes. Louis
feels him slipping away even standing right in front of him. Without
thinking he reaches out for Harry's hand and holds it in his.
He expects Harry to pull away but he doesn't. Instead, he squeezes.

"I don't want to get my heartbroken," he says and his voice is

choked. "I don't," he swallows hard over what else he wants to say.
"But I don't know how to do this right. I don't know how to let
myself love you."
Louis understands it all in a rush. When Harry says he's looking out
for himself it's because he doesn't think anyone else will. He's
scared of being left behind but, more than that, he's scared of losing
Louis. No one has ever fought for him but the way he's holding

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onto Louis's hand like it's the one thing he knows in the midst of all
this confusion gives Louis all the confidence he needs.

"Let's try," Louis says. He steps closer so the toes of their shoes kiss
on the dusty ground. "Let me be the one who changes your mind
about all of that. I know you've been hurt, I get it. So have I.
Everyone has. We can't live under those scars, though. Not when
there's something as good as you and me staring right at us. We
can't run away from this."

"I don't want to," Harry says just as a tear slips over the edge of his
eye and down his cheek. He wipes it away with his free hand but
doesn't let go of Louis. "I don't want this to end."

"Let me be yours, then." Louis smiles over the knot in his throat.
"Be mine and I'll be yours. Let me love you the way you deserve to
be loved and we'll figure this out together." Louis watches as two
more tears slip out of Harry's eyes and onto his cheeks. He's
shocked when Harry reaches up and uses the back of his finger to
wipe away the tear under Louis's eyes. He hadn't even realized he
was crying. They both laugh and the sound bubbles out before it
fades.
“Do you remember what I said when we were in New Mexico?
When you asked me what it would take to commit to someone?”
“You said you would tell them when you liked them,” Harry says
with a nod. “When you thought they were worth the potential
heartbreak in the end. You said you’d tell them.”
“This is me telling you,” Louis says quietly just before he kisses
Harry. Their kiss is saltwater and sweat, a smile against swollen lips
and a broken sigh of raw emotion. It’s perfect.

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"This is so stupid," Harry whispers right against Louis’s mouth and
Louis laughs out loud, his heart cracking through a hardened
weight.

"It is," Louis says. He presses to fingers to Harry's cheek and runs
the course of the half-dried tears, wiping them away completely.
"But we don't do anything easily, do we?"

Harry smiles and sniffs again. "No, not really."

"Maybe we can work on that?" Louis says, "Put it on our to do

list?"

Harry laughs and it shatters the sadness in his eyes completely as he

pulls himself close to Louis and presses his face to his neck. Louis
wraps his arms low around Harry's back to hold him, pressing them
tight together even in the stifling heat.

He feels exhausted and wrung out, like he's standing out on the
edge of a cliff with Harry in his arms. It's a terrifying feeling that
curls in his bones, all of the potential they have in front of them. All
the ways they might hurt each other in the future without even
knowing it in this moment. But he knows they have to take the leap
anyway, he knows they have to try. They might fall off the edge of
the cliff and crash in a grand fashion but maybe not. God only
knows, but, maybe, they'll end up flying.
*
"And you know I hate when you put your feet on the dashboard but
you do it anyway. You also like when I blush so you say things to
make it happen on purpose."

512
Louis throws his head back laughing and he feels Harry's laughter
right against his stomach. "That is true. I do like to make you blush,
babe."

Harry walks his fingers over Louis's bare hip and then flattens his
palm. "You also steal my vanilla body wash in the shower."

Louis had been running his fingers through Harry's hair where his
head lays on Louis's chest but now, he pauses. "How do you know
that?"

Harry turns so he's looking at Louis and smirks. "Do you really
want to know?" "Yes, I do."
"I put a line on it when we were in New Mexico and checked the
level after you showered."

Louis lets his jaw drop open. "No you didn't."

Harry smiles without showing his teeth and nods.

"You little shit," Louis laughs as he tries to tickle Harry which

means they both end up flailing around on the bed, whipping all the
bedding into a fluffy mess.
Louis has no idea what city they are even in but after the cesspool
and the rollercoaster of their afternoon, they decided to check into
the first hotel they found and spend the evening together. Harry
turned the air conditioning to arctic levels and they stripped down
to their boxers to lay in bed and watch television. They talked
quietly until their conversation eventually circled back to the things
they'd talked about earlier in the afternoon and Harry insisted he
wanted his chance to air all of his grievances about Louis's habits
and tendencies. "You did it to me," he said as he curled into Louis
and put his head right over Louis's heart.

513
Louis hadn't expected his heart to feel like it would burst in his
chest even as Harry made fun of him for not wearing socks with his
shoes, and hiding smiles against the inside of his wrist when he
thinks Harry isn't watching.

"You also tickle me far too much," Harry says seriously once Louis
has him pinned to the bed, his fingers tracing the curve of his waist.

"I'm sorry," he says, pinching the fullness of Harry's hips. He laughs

when Harry squawks. "I love when you do that, though. You sound
like a seagull."

"No, no, no," Harry says, sitting up and pushing Louis back against
the pillows. He points at him.
"This is my chance to talk shit, not yours."

Louis crosses his arms, "Okay, fine. What else you got for me,
baby?"

Harry shakes his head with wide eyes. "See, you do that shit and I
can't take it."

Louis laughs and throws his hands up, "What are you even talking
about?"
"You sit there looking all hot without a shirt on and all your tattoos
on display and then you say,
'What else you got for me, baby?" in this scratchy voice and it's not
fair."
Louis rubs his hands over his face and smiles so hard his cheeks
hurt. "Do you have an idea for how I should go about fixing that?
You know I like to play fair."

514
Harry hums and crawls over to Louis slowly like a panther on the
prowl. "I'll think about it," he says as he crawls into Louis's lap and
puts his knees on either side of his hips the way he always does.
"I'll write you an email when I figure it out."

"Thanks, darling," Louis says, pressing kisses all along the bottom
of Harry's neck. "What should we do until then?"

Harry shrugs and his lips turn up into half of a smile, "You could
kiss me."

There are few things Louis would rather do as he tilts his head up to
meet Harry's mouth with his lips.

*
They decide to order room service for dinner when they're both
sweaty and sated, Harry tracing circles on Louis's bare back as they
lay on top of the bed.

"I want a hamburger," Harry says as he flips through the menu

lazily. "And I want onion rings.
And, it's not on the menu, but I want a chocolate milkshake."

"Do they even have ice cream here?" Louis asks as he picks up the
phone to dial. "It's like the devil's asshole out there." Harry cackles
just as the concierge picks up and Louis reaches around to pinch his
nipple to get him to shut up.
They do have ice cream in the middle of the desert, it turns out, so
they eat burgers, onion rings , and chocolate milkshakes wearing
only their boxers on the bed. There's a Will & Grace marathon on
TV while they eat and once their dishes are cleared they lay
together and watch Grease because it's what's on next and neither
one of them feels like actually finding the remote.

515
Louis feels the most comfortable when he's like this, wrapped in
Harry's arms with the light of the television dancing over them in
bed. He kisses Harry's jaw just thinking of it and then presses
himself in a bit closer. He knows they'll start sweating soon and end
up on opposite ends of the bed but he'll take what he can get while
he can.

He tries to imagine Harry in his bed, in his apartment. Harry in his

kitchen wearing only his boxers, Harry napping on his couch, Harry
using his own key to let himself into the apartment when Louis has
a late class. Harry keeping a drawer of clothes at Louis’s, a
toothbrush for when he stays over. He curls his toes at the thought.

"What?" Harry asks, "What are you smiling about?"

Louis hadn't even realized he was smiling or that Harry was watching
him. He pulls back so he can see Harry's eyes. "Would you believe
me if I said I was imagining you taking a nap on my couch?" Harry
laughs and bites his lip. "It's not the strangest thing you've ever said,
so yeah, I believe you."

"Wait until I'm running on two hours of sleep and three cups of
coffee. Things are going to get super strange."
"Good," Harry says, kisses the arch of Louis's eyebrow. "I can't
wait."

"Yeah?" Louis smiles softly, "You won't run away screaming?"

"I'll get you back," Harry says easily. "You'll be nothing compared
to me studying for an art history exam when I recite all of the facts
out loud because I'm an auditory learner."

516
"No problem," Louis says smugly. "I'm telling you, I want it all."

"Except when I throw up, right? Because I swear to god you were
about to push me out of the car this morning."

Louis laughs and circles his hand in a gentle circle on Harry's belly.
"I already apologized for that. We were both in shitty moods. Next
time you puke, I'll hold your hair back for you and flush the toilet
so you don't have to stare at it when you're done."

Harry groans, "You're making me nauseous."

"Nah, baby, that's romance. Puke and toilets. You get it all with
me."

"My prince charming," Harry whispers just before he kisses Louis

right on the mouth. "Lucky me."
*

517
 Day 17 & 18

DAY SEVENTEEN

Baker, California
It’s just after lunch when Louis pulls the car off in Oro Grande and
the street lined with antique shops Harry has picked out for them to
visit. It's the last thing on Harry’s written itinerary he made months
ago; back before either of them knew what fate had in store. The
next stop is straight through to Los Angeles but they've already
decided to stay in the San Gabriel mountains for tonight, not ready
to finish their road trip quite yet.

"Ready?" Louis asks once he turns off the car.

"I'm feeling a little sentimental right now," Harry says as he puts his
itinerary back in the glove box for the last time. He takes a deep
breath. "The Harry who planned this road trip, and decided his
grand finale would be antique shopping, had no idea what was in
store for him."

Louis smiles, laughter huffing quietly. "He didn't anticipate a

partner in crime like me, did he?"

518
"Definitely not," Harry says. His lips twitch, "But sometimes you
don't know what's good for you until it happens."

"Until Niall Horan happens," Louis corrects as he turns the handle

on his door to open it.

"God bless Niall," Harry says. "Will he be in Chicago at Christmas?

I can't wait to see him."

Louis pauses as he gets out of the car but only for a moment. He
and Harry will both be home in Chicago for Christmas this year,
they'll probably meet each other's families and give each other
Christmas gifts on a cold, snowy night with rainbow lights
reflecting off of the houses around them. They'll hang out with Niall
in River North and go to the Christmas tree lighting on the river. If
all goes the way it should, Harry will be his New Year's kiss. He
can hardly wait. "Yeah," he says as he lets his feet drop to the
pavement. "He'll be home."

They wander through a few antique shops but their mutual favorite
is Weathered and Treasured on the furthest corner. There's an old
record player with dusty vinyls stacked all around it, vintage clothes
in perfect condition, retro furniture and stacks of old books with
other people's notes in them.

Harry finds an arm full of records he wants, a few worn copies of

classic novels and a jean jacket with a rainbow patch over the heart
and his birth year embroidered on the sleeve. He puts it on and
looks like a rock star, because of course he does. Louis even takes a

519
picture of him pretending to model and laughs loudly when all of
the older ladies in the store coo over Harry like he's Mick Jagger.
Louis doesn't find anything he can't live without except when
they're leaving and he sees a necklace hanging from the knob of an
old dresser. He barely catches a full glance at it but he knows it's
perfect.

"Baby," he catches Harry around the hips, "I forgot my phone in the
dressing room. Meet you at the car?"

Harry nods and adjusts a ridiculous pair of white sunglasses he

found at the last minute when he was paying. They look like Willy
Wonka but he still looks hot. It's all sorts of stupid.

Louis waits until Harry is far enough away and then he swipes the
necklace up, the little vintage key worn and weathered on a thin
chain. It's exactly what he didn't know he was looking for. He pays
and quickly puts it in his pocket, jogging out to meet Harry at the
car and waving around his phone for good measure. He's an
excellent actor, if he does say so himself.

*
They take the long way to the San Gabriel mountains now that
they're close enough to the coast they can practically taste it.
Everything past Oro Grande and closer to San Gabriel is lush and
green, rivers breaking through forested areas and streaming next to
the highways. When they see signs for a historic waterfall, the take
the exit shrouded by trees with hardly a second glance at each other.

"You have to hike to the waterfall," Harry announces once they've

parked and he's looked up where they are on his phone. "It's a mile
in and a mile out. How long will that take?"

520
Louis smiles and unhooks his seatbelt. "Does it matter? I'm not in a
hurry, are you?" Harry's smile fills the entire car with warmth,
Louis isn't even exaggerating a little bit.

They change into more hiking appropriate clothes and then set off
for the waterfall with Harry's camera, two water bottles and packs
of trail mix all in tow. Louis screams when he sees a garter snake
which makes Harry fold in half laughing and they both get a little
preemptively itchy when they see there are signs warning of poison
ivy just off the edges of the path.

The waterfall is breathtaking when they get to it, pouring off of a

cliff and into a basin below with wildflowers and trees all reaching
out to touch the water with gentle vines. Harry shows Louis the
pictures he takes, the way he uses a setting on his camera to blur the
water so it looks like smoke.

When a group of girls stop just across from them to admire the
waterfall, too, Harry asks if one of them will take a picture of him
and Louis. They press close together with their arms around each
other and wide smiles on their faces as one girl uses Harry's
camera for the shot. It's the first picture they've taken together on
the trip and Louis figures it's fitting that it will be one of the last.
Who knew the grandest finale would be them getting together on
Route 66? Certainly not them.
Harry must be thinking the same thing as he takes the camera back
with a gracious smile. He tips Louis's chin up with two fingers to
kiss him before they head off back toward the car.

521
"Is that rain?"

"Unless god is spitting on us, I think it is," Louis says, rolling up his
window. He'd noticed the temperature dropping as they got closer to
the mountains, a full seventy degrees cooler than the desert which is
utterly ridiculous but not unwelcome.

"I love when it rains," Harry says excitedly, pulling the car into a
visitor spot at the lodge they found for the night. He's so excited by
the rain he volunteers to go into the front desk to see if they have a
cabin available for the night. He's wearing the bright pink crewneck
sweatshirt he's so fond of which makes it even funnier when he
comes back out holding the key to a cabin and does a little dance in
front of the car, the rain getting steadier.

"That's kind of a lot of rain," he says as he ducks back in the car, his
hair already damp. He shivers and shimmies his shoulders to warm
up. "Yikes."

"Don't catch pneumonia on me," Louis says as he grabs for Harry's

hands. He warms them up between his own and kisses Harry's
fingertips.

They get a bit lost when they drive to the cabin they've rented and
end up bickering back and forth before they realize they've stopped
right in front of it in the process of a light hearted name calling
competition.

As they unload the car, it gets steadily colder and they rush into the
small cabin in a hurry, rain licking at them in the process. They lock
the door once they’re inside and flip on all of the lights as they drop
their bags. The cabin is more of a studio than a house with a bed,
small kitchen and living room all joined in one space. It's
completely cozy and the rain doesn't seem so bad after all.

522
The kitchen is fully stocked so Louis takes a chance on making
some pasta for dinner while Harry messes around with the fireplace
in the center of the room. "Twenty four hours ago, a fireplace would
have killed us," he muses happily as he plays with all of the buttons
to get it lit.

Louis's pasta is simple with ground turkey marinara over penne

noodles but he doesn't feel too inclined to figure out anything else.
Harry has the fire going by the time he's nearly done cooking, the
warmth filling the cabin quickly and comfortably.

Harry finds a bottle of red wine he says he hopes is complimentary

and pours them two glasses with a smile. Louis puts their dinner on
plates and pauses when he glances at the fireplace. Harry has
dismantled the bed and reassembled it in front of the fire like a nest
with pillows and cushions from the couch making up the parameter.
Louis leans over to kiss his cheek just because he can and then they
make their way to the blanket nest with their pasta and wine.

"Should we toast?" Harry asks once they’re settled across from each
other, their plates between them on the blankets.

"Of course," Louis says, picking up his glass of wine. "You have an
idea?"

"Cheer to taking chances," Harry starts, "and cheers to the weather

god for the rain."

Louis snorts over his laughter and rolls his eyes. "Cheers to Route
66."
"And every other highway we had to take to get here," Harry adds
on.

523
"Both literally and metaphorically," Louis says as they clink their
glasses together in the dancing light from the fire.

“I like that you wear my ring,” Harry says once they’ve mostly
finished eating. He takes his last bite and smiles with his lips
pressed together.
Louis is used to it now, the ring on his middle finger. “Why’s that?”
He asks with a smirk, always wanting Harry to say what he actually
means.
Harry shrugs and takes a sip of wine. “I don’t know, really. Just
makes me happy.”

Louis smiles, “Yeah?”

“At first, it made it feel like you were mine,” Harry says without
hesitation. “And when I didn’t think that was actually going to
happen, I liked to pretend.”
Louis laughs and tilts forward to kiss Harry, long and slow with the
fire dancing next to them. “I have something for you,” he says as he
pulls back.
He hands Harry his glass and then pushes up out of their nest to get
to his bag. He finds the jeans he’d worn earlier and the necklace he
bought at the vintage store. It’s all tangled and knotted because he’d
shoved it in his pocket of all places so he takes a moment to try and
get it all righted again.
“The anticipation might actually kill me,” Harry calls from across
the room.

524
Louis snorts as his fingers twist through the chain. “You’ll be fine.
Just give me a second.”
Harry hums a song that sounds suspiciously like it came from a
game show and Louis just rolls his eyes over his smile.
He crosses back to Harry slowly, the necklace twisted in his hand.
He’s never done something like this before and he feels a little
dumb about it. He would prefer for Harry to grab it out of his hand
and accept it without explanation but considering he’s not a five
year old kid at a birthday party, Louis doesn’t think that’s what will
be happening.
Harry has moved their plates over to one side but still has the wine
glasses in his hand. He smiles sweetly as Louis sits down, his face
open with anticipation.
“I got you this,” Louis says lamely, opening his palm. “I know you
always wear your cross and I thought they might go together
nicely.”
Harry glances at Louis’s face and then takes the key from Louis’s
hand carefully, swallowing. “I love this,” he says, holding it up
closer to look at it. “It's vintage, yeah? It feels like something that
has a story. A secret history.”
Louis hadn’t really thought about it like that and now he feels a bit
foolish. Of course Harry would love it for the story it has tied to it,
the way it exists in someone else’s memory as something special.
Now the past is tied to their future, the story they’ll tell about a key
necklace Louis found in an antique store.
Louis swallows as Harry puts it on, arranging the chain to hang
over his sweatshirt which looks silly but Louis kind of likes it. He
gets what Harry was saying about the ring now – the way it feels to

525
see the person he’s falling in love with wearing something he’s
given him. The butterflies lift off from his stomach and head
straight for his lungs.
“Why did you pick out a key?” Harry asks curiously, fingering the
curves of the necklace. “I liked it because it was vintage,
honestly,” Louis says. “But now that you’re wearing it?” Harry
raises his eyebrows in anticipation.
“You’re going to cringe,” Louis warns. “I’m cringing just thinking
about saying it.”
Harry laughs and his dimple curves in. He finishes the rest of his
wine in a sip. “Tell me.”
Louis sighs and feels like an eighth grader admitting his crush.
“You’re the one with the key to my heart. The only one.” He
immediately blushes when he says it. He’s not the guy who says
shit like that but Harry has him doing it anyway, meaning it, too.
Harry’s eyes actually tear up at Louis’s words and then he’s
launching his body across their makeshift nest and Louis is falling
back against the soft cushions and blankets while trying not to spill
his wine.

“That was such a nice thing to say,” Harry says, blinking quickly.
“You are so easy,” Louis teases as he sets his glass to the side. “One
necklace and you’re tackling me?”
“You said I have the key to your heart,” Harry says incredulously.
“That at least gets you a blow job.”
Louis cackles with his eyes squeezed shut as Harry kisses along his
jaw. “I’ve never said that to anyone else before, for the record.”

526
Harry pauses in his kisses and looks up at Louis again. He blinks
slowly, a smile slipping over his pink mouth. “Is it crazy to feel like
this? I’ve only known you for two weeks.”
“Seventeen days,” Louis says with a crazy smile. “And the brief
time I stole your pencil in Marine Biology.”

Harry grins, “Yes. Seventeen days plus two minutes.”

Louis laughs and runs his hands up Harry’s back. He loves Harry’s
weight on him like this, the way he presses down against him and
wraps him up with long legs. “It is crazy,” Louis finally answers
Harry’s question. “But it feels right, doesn’t it?”

Harry smiles slowly, “Feels as natural as breathing.”

This time Louis kisses him first, smiling right up against his mouth.
There’s nowhere else he wants to be. No one else he wants to be
with.

Harry takes Louis’s clothes off slowly, each inch of skin pressed
with a kiss until he’s down to just his boxers and one sock that got
overlooked in the process. Louis repays him in the same manner,
licking over his skin and tattoos once he pulls his sweatshirt off,
biting along the inside of his thigh as he removes his shorts, kissing
the bone of his ankle as he throws his dinosaur socks somewhere
over his shoulder.
He pauses as he sets Harry’s feet back on the blanket, gazing back
up his body. Harry is smirking like he knows what he looks like in

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the light of fire, propped up on a cushion with the necklace Louis
gave him pressed to his bare skin. He wiggles his eyebrows when
Louis meets his eyes and Louis shakes his head at him.
They go slow from there as Louis crawls over Harry and settles low
on his hips, hands roaming up over Harry’s shoulders and down the
sides of his arms. He twists their fingers together when the kiss,
holding on tight to Harry’s hands as he opens his mouth to his
tongue. Harry’s back arches as Louis lifts their joined hands up by
Harry’s shoulders, a soft moan slipping from his lips. Louis pulls
back to watch between their bodies as he rolls his hips down against
Harry’s and smiles at the sound he makes – much like the first but
lower.
Harry takes control from Louis and rolls him onto his back without
disconnecting their lips. He drags his hips low and tight so Louis
can feel how hard he already is against his thigh. Louis drops his
head back and exposes his neck to Harry’s mouth as he feels
champagne bubbles in his blood, coursing under his heart and
through all of his bones. Harry looks like sin, the way he kisses a
trail down Louis’s stomach and licks the thin hair disappearing into
the waistband of his boxers. Louis tries to be helpful as Harry pulls
his boxers off but they both end up laughing when Louis’s hip
thrust meets Harry's face as he leans down.
“You just slapped me with your dick,” Harry says, playing
offended. He takes Louis’s cock in his hand the next moment and
licks the tip with his wide tongue. If it’s payback, Louis doesn’t
mind.
Harry has a ridiculous mouth and Louis loves when Harry uses it
like this, tightening his lips and lathing his tongue, his fingers
gripping onto Louis’s hips. He goes slow but he’s more than
thorough and Louis swears he’s losing feelings in his extremities as

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Harry works him over. He pops off when Louis thrusts into his
mouth and smiles.

“Let me ride you.”

“Is that a question?” Louis asks as he pulls himself up to his elbows
and looks at Harry through sex hazy eyes.

“No,” Harry says. “It really wasn’t.”

Louis watches from the floor as Harry goes in search of a condom
and a bottle of lube and then he starts laughing as Harry dumps his
entire bag out in the process. It’s not the most organized method of
searching but it does the trick as he finds what he's looking for with
a happy shriek a moment later.
Harry starts to open himself up but he can’t quite get the angle right
so Louis takes over happily. He knows how to twist his fingers now,
what makes Harry shiver and what makes him roll his hips
languidly in Louis’s lap. He kisses Harry’s chin and then his neck at
the angle, curving down to kiss his new necklace when he catches it
out of the corner of his gaze. He loves how he’s the only one who
gets to see Harry like this, the only one who can make him feel like
this, the only one who gets him every possible way.
“Ready, baby?” Louis asks when Harry is all but falling apart on top
of him, each moan connected to a quieter whine.
“Need you,” Harry says in the middle of kissing Louis. It’s so
simple and easy but it makes Louis’s heart beat a little faster in his
chest. Hearing Harry say stuff like that is so much sweeter than
before because this time Louis can smile against his mouth and say,
“Need you, too, darling,” without worrying that he’s said to much.
Harry goes slow as he puts the condom on Louis and then sinks
down, his abs clenching and his eyebrows pulled together until he

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finally settles. It’s different than the way they’ve done it before so it
takes longer to get the rhythm, a few misplaced limbs and teeth
knocking together until they find it. When they do, it’s like fire,
both of them sweating and roaming each other’s bodies with greedy
hands, swallowing moans and whispers like they are secrets just for
them.
Harry gets close fast, his cock rubbing against Louis’s stomach
together where they’re pressed together, his fingers digging into
Louis’s shoulders. “Close,” he whispers as Louis starts to hold his
hips and thrust up into him, knowing exactly how to move to make
Harry cry out.
“Know you are,” Louis says softly, his breath coming out in a
staccato rhythm. “Want you to come like this,” he says. “Don’t
touch.”
Harry groans lowly but starts to move his hips again, arms twisting
tighter around Louis to hold himself together. Louis let’s his hands
roam over Harry’s back, digging his nails in gentle lines and then
squeezing the curve of Harry’s ass and slapping lightly to make
Harry groan against his neck.
“Come on, darling,” Louis whispers right into his sweaty hair. “Let
go.”
Harry orgasms with his entire body, their skin sliding together as he
shakes apart in Louis’s arms, his mouth opened against Louis’s
neck, and his back rigid. He relaxes all at once, like jelly poured out
of a jar and Louis holds him through it, pressing sweet kisses along
the tops of his shoulders.
Ever one to please, Harry regains his composure enough to roll over
and take Louis with him. He spreads his legs out to the side and
manages to smile slyly as Louis slowly understands what he wants.

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Louis kisses him as he starts to drive inside Harry all over again.
The kisses dissolve to nothing more than breathless panting as the
champagne bubbles in Louis’s blood collect all at once and he
comes with a soft groan, Harry kissing him all the way through it.
“Can’t wait to do that every day,” Harry whispers, later, when
they’re naked with no lights except for the fire, their skin soft and
clean from the shower they shared.
“Every day?” Louis raises his eyebrows though Harry can’t see him
with his head pressed to
Louis’s chest. “Won’t you get sore?”
“Figured we can take turns,” Harry says. He looks up, “Right?
You’re into that?”
Louis kisses his eyebrow and smiles. “If you’re asking me if I’ll let
you fuck me the answer is yes.”
“Yes,” Harry hisses as he lies back down. Louis can feel his smile
over his heart.

“You’re so weird.”

“So are you,” Harry whispers like it’s a compliment.

“Thanks,” Louis says, smiling.

“I keep thinking,” Harry says after a quiet moment, “About what
it’s going to be like when we do boring stuff. Like go grocery
shopping or study together. Or do laundry.”

“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Harry says. He draws a heart on Louis’s stomach. “I’m
really excited about it. Isn’t that bizarre?”

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Louis laughs lightly, “I don’t know. We’ve known each

other two weeks –“ “Seventeen days,” Harry interrupts.

“Seventeen days,” Louis amends. “But we’ve already gone on the

vacation people take when they get like, engaged or something.”
Harry smiles. “Technically we were celebrating our five year
anniversary in New Mexico.”
“And our honeymoon in Arizona,” Louis laughs, pressing the ring
on his middle finger against Harry’s shoulder.
Harry laughs and it shakes his whole body as he kisses Louis’s rib
cage. “We’ve done a lot.”
“What I mean is that I’m looking forward to the boring stuff, too,”
Louis says. “I have a feeling it’s not going to be that boring
anyway.”
“Not with our track record,” Harry says but he sounds like he’s still
smiling.
Louis holds his breath and nearly says, I love you, but swallows the
words. It’s only been seventeen days – he can at least wait until
they get to twenty. Maybe.

DAY EIGHTEEN

San Gabriel Mountains, California

They take the morning slowly, coffee and scones on a walk along
the river as they hold hands. Louis finds it hard to stop smiling and,
by the look on his face, Harry can’t either. They pack their bags just
before check out and get sidetracked by making out on the couch
for awhile before they manage to get back in the car and head for
home.

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Los Angeles is gorgeous as they arrive on the edge of the city
limits. The sky is clear and blue and the ground is already scattered
with leaves of all different colors. Harry is driving but he has one
hand on Louis’s knee, fingers tapping to the song playing on the
radio. “Real life,” Louis says, glancing over at Harry. “Can’t
believe it.”

Harry smiles, “Are you in a hurry?”

“To get back?”

Harry nods, “Yeah, do you have anything to do?”

“Was probably going to do laundry and order Thai food. Was
hoping you’d join me.”

Harry smiles, “Can you do it tomorrow?”

Louis looks over, narrowing his eyes. “What are you planning
Harry Styles?”
Harry steers off of the 405 toward the exit with Santa Monica in
crisp white lettering over the top.
“How about one more adventure before we go back?”
Louis bites his bottom lip over a smile. “I’ll go anywhere with
you,” he says and he already knows it’s the absolute truth.

533
 December (Epilogue)

DECEMBER

Louis swears the fluorescent lights of the library are taking a toll on
his eyes and, by extension, his entire brain. He pinches the bridge of
his nose with his fingers as the words on the page in front of him
swim by again. On a sigh, he closes his eyes and then opens them
again to focus. It doesn’t work. He shuts the book he’s been reading
from with a dull thud causing a couple of stray sets of eyes to
wander from across the room, curious at the disruption.
It takes him under a minute to gather his stuff from his workspace
and shove it in his backpack, tangling his laptop cord and phone
charger together in the process. He just wants to get out of the
library - hardly concerned with doing it in an orderly fashion.
He knew it would be hard, is the thing. Law school was never
meant to be a cakewalk but there’s a stark difference between being
prepared for difficulty and being slammed in the face with tests,
papers, case studies, and defense practices with hardly a pause to
take a breath.
It’s already dark by the time he gets outside, winter bringing
slightly cooler weather and darker nights even now, at the

534
beginning. There are strings of lights hung haphazardly around the
bare trees, some white lights skirting the edges of the buildings,
colored paper signs announcing holiday festivals and concerts stuck
up against light posts. Even the festive cheer does nothing to hide
the fact campus is already barren with only a few days until the
holiday break. Louis is already counting down the finals - one test
and one essay - standing between him and a flight home.
He studies the ground as he walks the familiar path toward his
apartment: dirty sidewalks covered in stepped on gum and wet
garbage, stray shoelaces and socks like the underbelly of a
laundromat.

Laundry.
Shit.
“Fuck,” he says out loud without missing a step. He was supposed
to put his laundry in the dryer before he left for class - not leave it
sitting in a damp heap inside the washing machine for seven hours.
It’s pretty much the way his day - the whole week, really - has gone
so he can’t even pretend to be surprised by the realization. His track
record for today alone has included waking up past his alarm, not
being able to find two matching socks, spilling coffee on the
kitchen floor, being late to his first lecture, getting a headache that
refused to go away, and then locking himself in the library for four
unproductive hours under fluorescent lights. And the laundry. He
forgot to put the fucking laundry in the fucking dryer.
The streetlight flickers over the entrance of his apartment - lazy,
like it’s deciding whether to stay
on or turn off permanently. At this rate, he wouldn’t be wholly

535
surprised if it just called it quits. He takes a moment to pull out his
keys, absently checking his phone before he remembers it’s already
dead. He rolls his eyes. What a fucking day.
His building is too old to have a functioning elevator so he takes the
stairs, vaguely wondering if he’s made the right choice on this law
school thing. It’s not the first time the thought has circled through
his mind, nor will it probably be the last. A familiar voice echoes
from the back of his mind - low and steady, thick like honey - it’s
only the first term, it’s nearly Christmas and you’re tired, nothing
good is ever easy. His lips twitch as the voice quiets again.
Sometimes he thinks that voice is the one thing helping him get
through this term at all.
The lock on the front door sticks as usual so it takes Louis a
moment to get it open, twisting the knob back and forth before it
gives way.
This far into the term, he’s not surprised to find someone already in
his apartment (though, admittedly, the first time he’d walked in to
unexpected company, he’d thrown his keys across the room in self
defense).
Now, there’s just the low hum of Michael Buble’s Christmas album,
a candle flickering on the coffee table and Harry sitting cross
legged on the couch with his laptop settled on his lap. He looks up
as Louis comes in the door, a half smile curling on his lips when
their eyes meet. Louis feels something in his chest loosen as he
matches Harry’s smirk, a quiet, “Hi,” disrupting the space between
them.
Louis hasn’t seen him since yesterday; their schedules for finals
week sending them both in opposite directions. Sometimes he
thinks it’s too soon - the way he’s tied himself to Harry, the way the

536
very sight of him manages to settle his bones and make him smile.
Other times, though, most of the time, he just thinks Harry is
exactly who he’s been waiting for.
It doesn’t get old to see Harry in his space like this, wearing one of
Louis’s sweatshirts with a half empty mug of tea (also belonging to
Louis) sitting on the table. There’s just something about coming
home and finding Harry already here, or Harry wandering over after
a late night at the library and letting himself in just to sleep next to
Louis. Maybe they’ve moved too fast with the whole thing - some
of their friends certainly think so - but nothing about it seems too
fast to Louis, nothing about having Harry between each of his ribs
scares him at all.
Louis doesn’t even take his backpack off before crossing over to the
couch, leaning over the coffee table to kiss Harry softly, tasting the
peppermint on his lips from his current obsession with candy canes.
“I moved your clothes into the dryer when I got here,” Harry says,
once they separate. “I wasn’t sure if you forgot or -,”
Louis cuts him off with another kiss, one hand slipping around the
side of Harry’s neck to hold his face steady, his thumb drawing over
the arch of Harry’s cheekbone.
Harry kisses him for only a moment before he laughs against his
mouth. “You’re welcome,” he says through his smile, biting his lip
as he pushes Louis back a step. Louis nearly falls over the table
before catching his balance, flipping Harry off for good measure.
Harry just laughs lightly, rolling his eyes.
“How was this morning?” Louis asks as he lets his backpack fall to
the chair adjacent to the couch. He steps on the back of his shoes
and kicks them over by the door; Harry’s converse are already lined
up neatly against the wall.

537
“Think it went okay,” Harry says with a small shrug. “Won’t know
for sure until the end of the week.”
Louis nods, “I personally think you were more than prepared. You
had an excellent study partner, if I do say so myself.”
Harry tries to stare at Louis with narrowed eyes but a laugh bubbles
against his lips anyway. He shakes his head as he presses his lips
together, eyes dropping to his computer screen. He clicks around
aimlessly and Louis grins at the way his cheeks go light pink.
It’s not his fault flashcards and stripping go together so well. It’s not
Harry’s fault either considering he got every answer correct and had
them both naked within fifteen minutes. In fact, the whole thing
was the most exciting study session Louis has been a part of. He
may have learned an art history fact or two in the process.
“He was alright,” Harry says with another shrug, the twitch of his
lips stealing his faux seriousness.
“Alright,” Louis repeats under his breath. “Overwhelmed with
compliments, babe.”
Harry glances at Louis and laughs before focusing back at his
computer, smile lingering as he starts typing in earnest.
Louis leaves Harry to his essay as he wanders through the kitchen
to check the laundry, the low hum of the dryer noticeably absent
against Michael Buble’s crooning tunes. Harry hums along softly
and Louis doubts he even knows he’s doing it - he never does,
anyway.
Louis empties the dryer of his clothes, still warm as he piles them in
a laundry basket. It takes him longer than it truly should to realize
the laundry basket doesn’t even belong to him. His confusion holds
for only a moment before he opens the top of the washing machine

538
and spots Harry’s clothes, wet and ready to be moved to the dryer.
Maybe it should take him longer to identify the sodden clump of
clothes but the pink socks with green dinosaurs and white tee with
black font give it away upon a single glance.
There’s a slight flutter in Louis’s stomach at Harry doing laundry at
his apartment - his mind immediately conjuring up an image of
Harry carrying a laundry basket and his backpack across campus,
trudging up Louis’s stairs and settling in for a night of studying as
he waits for Louis.
Louis loves it, is the thing. Loves Harry comes to his apartment on
a whim, plans to stay even while Louis is gone because he feels
comfortable. He loves him. That must be the double underline to
the whole thing - though they haven’t said it in so many words yet.
Louis transfers Harry’s clothes to the dryer and sets the timer, the
machine rumbling to life after a quiet moment. He rests the full
laundry basket on his hip and heads for his room to put his clean
clothes away. He’s not too modest to realize it’s a form of
procrastination to getting back to studying; any other night, he’d
pile clean laundry in the corner of his room rather than fold and put
it away. On his way past the couch, he runs his fingers through
Harry’s hair, scratching at his scalp gently before pressing a kiss to
his forehead as a detour on the way to his bedroom.
Even when procrastinating, he isn’t meticulous when it comes to
folding his clothes and finds himself done pretty quickly - the task
of finishing his paper looming ever closer. He twists his neck as he
closes the last drawer on his dresser, mind emptying of other ways
to procrastinate the inevitable.
Three more days. Three more days and then he’ll be on a plane to
Chicago. Home for the holiday break - home where it actually feels

539
like Christmas and not the wet underside of a sweaty shoe. LA has
its perks - Louis doesn’t think the city in December is one of them.
“Were you able to change your flight?” Louis asks as he passes
back through the main room toward the kitchen. His last avenue of
procrastination will be staring in the refrigerator for a few moments,
praying for Chinese food to descend upon the top shelf.
“No,” Harry says without looking away from his computer. “The
lady on the phone told me, albeit quite nicely, to fuck off.”
“Did you tell her you wanted to fly home with your gorgeous
boyfriend?”
Harry looks at Louis over his shoulder, nose scrunched. “I don’t
think she would have cared, to be honest.”
“And if you told her we were newly married, flying to our
honeymoon after our miraculous beach wedding?”
Harry laughs as he goes back to looking at his computer. “She
probably would want to know why we’d booked tickets on seperate
flights in the first place. Not very romantic for a honeymoon.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Obviously it’s a shotgun wedding.”

“Obviously,” Harry drawls back though Louis hears his smile.

“This is what you get for booking your flight in July, you know. No
one books flights six months early.”
Harry twists around again, eyebrows raised. “Because saving
money is a crime?”
Louis smirks, “Because we can’t fly home together now, baby. Are
you even listening?”

540
Harry laughs, “For what it’s worth, we are on the same flight back
here in January.”
“Without us even trying,” Louis points out. Booked at two different
times and still on the same United flight to Los Angeles next month.
Eleven rows apart, but they can’t win them all. Though, to be fair,
Louis plans to lie to everyone necessary in order to be able to sit by
Harry. He just hasn’t shared that plan with Harry yet.
“It’s like it was fate,” Harry says with an edge of a sarcasm over his
words. He cuts himself off with a laugh and goes back to his work.
“I ordered Chinese,” he adds without turning around again, just as
Louis opens the refrigerator.
Louis looks up toward the ceiling of the apartment and does an
imitation of the cross - though he’s not sure it’s fully correct by
religious standards - in thanks for finding someone like Harry to
have in his life. I love you, he nearly says out loud. Instead, “You’re
the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” comes out instead. It’s
another version of the same truth.
Harry chuckles lightly but stays mostly focused on his laptop this
time. Louis knows he’s bothered him enough for the time being so
he doesn’t make any more comments as he finally resigns himself
to starting in on his own studies for the night.
He likes that Harry comes over to study now. At the beginning, in
the first days and weeks of their new relationship in one place - no
quick changing background of scenes and odd cities to distract
them - Harry would hide away in the library or refuse to see Louis
until he was completely done with his schoolwork. They slowly
progressed to where they are now - Harry curling up on his couch
with his laptop, letting Louis run flashcards with him, spending lazy
Saturday mornings reading. It comes back to the feeling of being

541
settled - Louis is happiest when he’s with Harry and that’s a truth
he’s not trying to deny.
Denial. Louis can practically see the word staring back at him,
underlined with the essay he needs to finish for tomorrow. If
anything, all of his schooling and the first three months of law
school have taught him avoiding things never really makes them go
away.
He sighs loudly as he leaves the kitchen, making sure to duck down
to kiss the side of Harry’s neck as he passes the long edge of the
couch. Harry doesn’t even flinch at the sneak attack, his fingers not
missing a beat on his keys. Focused always looks good on him, like
a sexy librarian or something; Louis knows better than to tell him
that now, though. An eye roll and a “fuck off, sweetheart,” would
surely be his response.
Louis finds himself in an easier groove of working on his paper
than the monotony of terrible progress the library had provided
earlier. He sits on the floor at the coffee table, his laptop resting
comfortably on the table with room for his legs underneath while he
types. He finds himself humming along to Michael Buble and
chewing on a miniature candy cane from the endless supply Harry
has procured, all while stomping through the forest of reasonable
defenses for a client committing murder. It’s a fascinating topic - if
he wasn’t being graded and made to critically think three days
before a three week break.
His first happy interruption is the doorbell and a teenager holding
two bags of Chinese food, slightly out of breath from climbing the
flights of stairs. Louis hands over the cash Harry had set on the
entry table in exchange for the bags and wishes the guy, “Merry
Christmas,” though he assumes it’s the promise of chow mein that
has him in a spirited mood.

542
“Did you order the entire restaurant, love?” Louis asks as he sets
the cartons out on the coffee table.
Harry laughs as he moves the candle to a side table, brushing a few
stray candy cane wrappers from the table and onto the floor. “I
ordered on an empty stomach,” he says with a sheepish smile.
The momentary pause in focus to set out dinner barely lasts a few
moments more before Harry settles back into the couch with his
computer, a carton of spicy chicken balanced in his lap. Louis
watches him quietly for a second, the way he sniffs as he goes back
to reading, the slow blink of his eyes and absent way he tries to aim
his fork into the container in his lap without looking. He jabs his
own thigh with the plastic fork and laughs when he finds Louis
staring at him.
“Maybe take a break to eat?” Louis suggests, popping a piece of the
Sweet and Sour Chicken into his own mouth.
Harry makes a show of spearing a piece of chicken and deliberately
putting it between his lips, sucking on the fork for good measure.
Louis fans himself and shifts his legs, “Whoa, there.
Seduction by Chinese?”
Harry laughs and nearly chokes on his chicken, coughing into his
hand while he continues to laugh.“I just want to finish this,” Harry
says. “Then I’ll take a break.”
“Okay, okay,” Louis says. He rolls onto his knees and then up fully
to get them both glasses of water, and the inevitable stack of
napkins they’ll need.
Two hours later and the food is hardly demolished though the table
is a warzone, sauces spilled and random vegetables stranded outside

543
of their cartons. Louis is too full to contemplate physical movement
and Harry is far too immersed in his work to even notice
Louis goes back to his essay yet again, at one point typing with his
eyes closed just to get the words on the paper. Editing is for later,
word vomit is the trend for a late night. Eventually, even word
vomit is boring too and his eyes wander again to Harry.
Harry looks exhausted, his hair pushed up one side and the circles
under his eyes contrasted by the light of his computer. His eyes are
even blinking slower as he studies his computer. The typing has
slowed so Louis would assume he’s editing now, his lip drawn
between his teeth. Louis leans back on his palms and twists his
neck, smiling at the satisfying click of tension being released.
Harry’s neck is stiff, his shoulders held in a firm line, his jaw drawn
against his skin. Louis would give him a massage if he knew how -
or, rather, if he had any concept of how not to turn a massage into
sexual foreplay. That had been Harry’s critique the last time Louis
offered to do it for him. It’s not as though Louis could ignore the
sounds Harry was making as he pressed his thumbs into his
shoulders and down his spine. It was practically obscene, honestly.
Regardless, they both need a break from the weight of school, so
heavy on their shoulders at the end of the term. Louis wants to get
home to his family nearly as much as he wants to get Harry home to
his own family. He doesn’t want to give Harry up but there’s some
kind of magic in being with your mom at Christmas, some kind of
magic they just can’t give each other.
They’ve already planned it, they’ll have a couple of days apart to be
with their families on their own before they’ll make the crossover to
introduce each other’s families to the one boy they can’t stop
talking about. Harry’s mom has already invited Louis for dinner the

544
Tuesday after they get home, Louis’s mom wants to take Harry to
the tree lighting at the high school the next night. She tells Louis
she’s already in love with Harry even though they haven’t officially
met. They’ve traded recipes over email and suddenly they’re soul
mates.
Louis finishes his glass of water and then stands to start clearing up
the empty containers. Chances are, they’ll both fall asleep before
they do it properly and there are few things worse than the smell
and look of congealed Chinese food the morning after.
“Want me to help?” Harry asks as soon as he sees Louis reaching
for a container.
“I’ve got it,” Louis says with a shake of his head. “Are you getting
close to done?”
Harry moves his head side to side, considering. “I’m done with my
essay and I’ll reread tomorrow when I’m fresh. Just studying for
my test for Friday now,” he says. “And it’s one of those things
where you feel like you can study forever and still only know half
the information.”
Louis hums, stacking two containers on top of each other. “I know
the feeling.”
Cleaning up goes relatively quickly, though Louis grimaces at the
few stray, sticky vegetables he has to touch with his fingers. For
some reason, the gross factor is exacerbated outside of the to-go
container.
He gets all of the containers into the garbage and wipes down the
table, re-filling his and Harry’s glasses before considering himself
done. He glances at the clock on the microwave, surprised it’s been
four hours since he got home and Harry has yet to take a break
once. Louis is a fan of breaks especially breaks that involve blow

545
jobs or going to get ice cream at midnight, both of which Harry has
indulged him in more than once on a late night or two.
Louis leans his hip against the counter and crosses his arms,
studying Harry in the quiet. Michael Buble was nixed an hour ago
when his album became too repetitive for either of them to fully
handle while they tried to focus. Louis studies the curve of Harry’s
neck, the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders with his breath, the
way he wiggles every once in awhile to get comfortable.
Louis lets his mind wanders back to the beginning of walking in
tonight - the way his headache melted away somewhere between
meeting Harry’s eyes and saying, “Hi”. It’s crazy that Harry can do
that for him - that with a look and a word, he lights Louis up from
the inside. He hopes he does that for Harry, hopes he makes him
settled and warm to his very core without thinking about it.
Louis pauses in his errant thoughts, eyes falling to Harry again and
an idea flowering in the back of his mind.
He closes the distance to the couch easily enough, his hands falling
to Harry’s shoulders. This time, Harry does jolt at the touch.

“Yes?” He says, twisting his neck.

Louis hinges in half to kiss him; longer than when he walked in,
breathing in Harry like a drug, tracing his tongue over his lips,
feeling Harry melt under his mouth. He lets his hands skirt over
Harry’s shoulders and the tops of his arms, all the way to where his
hands are perched on the keyboard, without breaking the kiss once.
“What are you doing?” Harry whispers when Louis pulls back
slightly, his fingers falling in the spaces of Harry’s hands, fitting
like they’re meant to.

“Was just thinking,” Louis says. “About you.”

546
“Thanks,” Harry says with a cheesy smile. Louis rolls his eyes and
kisses him again, helpless not to.

“Are you done studying?”

“No,” Harry says automatically, his smile dimming slightly.

Louis doesn’t give up. “Could you take a break?”

Harry raises his eyebrow, “No.”
Louis holds his eyes and then blinks once before looking away.
Right when Harry thinks he’s given up, Louis lets go of his hands
and grabs the laptop, dancing back away from the couch and barely
making it as Harry twists up on his knees to grab at him, his
pleasant smile buried by an annoyed look Louis knows all too well.
He knows all of Harry’s looks by now - the way he looks when he’s
trying to tell a lie, and the way his smile turns down at the corners
when he’s disappointed, the way his eyebrows pull together when
he’s about to come, the way his eyes go flat when he’s trying to
pick a fight. And the way he looks right this moment - eyebrows
raised in the vision of unimpressed, jaw clenched just on the safe
side of angry.
“Give me the computer,” Harry says without breaking eye contact.
He holds one hand out like a parent talking to a stubborn child.
Louis takes another step further into the kitchen.
Louis shakes his head and focuses on the screen, scrolling through a
few pages of Harry’s study guide while Harry stares at him.

“Where did Art Deco originate?” Louis asks.

“Louis,” Harry says, crossing his arms again. “I don’t want to do
this.”

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“Where did Art Deco originate?” He repeats himself, eyebrows
raised right back at Harry like he’s the one causing the problems by
not answering.

“Paris,” Harry says finally.

“Two most famous American buildings that have Art Deco styles?”
Harry sits back on his heels and sighs. “Chrysler Building and
Radio City Music Hall. Both in New York.”
“And three adjective traits of Art Deco?” Louis glances at the
screen and then back at Harry.
“Anti-traditional, sleek, sophistication, wealth,” Harry recites
without blinking.

Louis grins, “That was four. You’re brilliant.”

Harry flips him off without changing his face once. “Lou, what are
you doing? Honestly?”

“I’m just asking if you can take a break.”

Harry rubs his hands over his eyes, “Not really. Last time I took a
break with you, I fell asleep for the rest of the night.”
“Two orgasms will do that to a man,” Louis says wisely, trying to
get a laugh though Harry just stares at him blankly. Louis gives in
first. “Two hours, tops. Maybe even less. I’ll get you home before
midnight, Cinderella.”
“This isn’t a joke,” Harry says flatly. “I have a test. You realize that,
yeah?”
Louis doesn’t get offended though Harry may be trying to get him
there. He just smiles softly at Harry and nods. “Of course it’s not a
joke. I just don’t want you to run yourself into the ground when I

548
know you’re more than ready for it,” he says lifting the laptop up
and down. “You always are. Not to mention, I miss you.”
“I’m right here,” Harry says but there’s not heat or tease in his
words. Louis can nearly see his edges softening again, the spikes
that go up everytime Louis pokes, folding down.
“We’ve been running on opposite tracks for almost two weeks,”
Louis says reasonably. “Is it that awful I want to spend two hours
doing something not tied to the fucking University of Southern
California?”
Harry smiles with closed lips, his mouth twitching. “Does this mean
I have to get off the couch?” Louis nods, “Sure does.” He snaps the
top of the laptop down like a punctuation.
Harry jumps over the back of the couch like a shot, panic coloring
his entire face as he reaches for the laptop with two hands. “I didn’t
save my essay,” he says as Louis hands over the laptop, his own
heartbeat suddenly thundering in his ears. Harry turns away from
him and Louis feels like the worlds biggest asshole and worst
boyfriend all at once.
“Shit,” he says licking his lip. “It probably didn’t shut down yet,
maybe just open it back up?”
Harry’s shoulders shake and Louis gets the odd feeling his stomach
has been scooped out. “Fuck, baby -” he reaches for Harry at the
same time Harry spins around with the biggest grin exploding on
his face, eyes shining as he starts laughing. Louis raises his
eyebrows.

“April Fool’s?” Harry says, his eyes going squint with his laughter.

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Louis tries to look menacing but the relief mixed with the fact he’s
in love with an idiot wins out and then he’s laughing and shaking
his head at the same time. “I fucking hate you so much.”
Harry basically wheezes through his laugh, his dimple curving in.
“I’m sorry,” he says though his voice doesn’t match the sentiment.
“I couldn’t stop myself.”
“You thought it’d be funny to watch me have a heart attack at age
twenty-three?” Louis asks, his hand going to his chest. The thud has
slowed considerably now.
“Nearly twenty-four,” Harry points out. He laughs at the face Louis
pulls and then he’s right there in Louis’s space, the laptop pressed
between them as Harry presses his forehead against Louis’s, his
smile getting lost like a blur.

“You’re awful,” Louis whispers.

“You like it,” Harry whispers back. Louis doesn’t get a chance to
say much more beyond that before Harry is kissing him, biting
gently on his bottom lip in a way that tends to derail any and all of
Louis’s plans.
“Alright,” Louis says before Harry can do the one thing with his
tongue certain to end their night right here. “Let’s go.”
“What do I need to bring?” Harry asks once his laptop is safely
deposited back on the coffee table.
“Just your cute face,” Louis says without really thinking about it,
pushing his feet into his shoes and tying them up.
“You’re disgusting,” Harry muses, nudging Louis out of his way
with his hip to get his own shoes.

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“Are you not going to tell me where we’re going?” Harry asks
while Louis locks the front door for the second time. The first time,
Harry had made him undo it to make sure the candle was blown
out.
“No,” Louis says. “Of course not.” He takes two steps toward the
stairs without Harry matching and then pauses. “Trust me?” He
reaches out for Harry’s hand and smiles as Harry twists their fingers
together.
They have to walk through campus to get Harry’s car from his
apartment. It’s a nice stroll - the lights and festive posters somehow
a bit more welcome with Harry’s hand held in his.
“I wish it would snow here,” Harry says as the lights in the student
union flicker while they pass by. “It would actually feel like
Christmas.”
“You mean the white lights in the palm trees aren’t doing it for
you?”
Harry squeezes Louis’s hand when he laughs. Sometimes, Louis
thinks, it’s his favorite thing Harry does. Or maybe it’s the way he
likes to sleep with a fan on, how he calls Louis if he walks across
campus in the dark, the way he laughs over his own jokes.
Sometimes, Louis thinks, his favorite things about Harry are far too
long to list out.
“Gems said home is already a complete mess,” Harry says over his
smile. “The other day it was snowing and it looked like cotton balls
falling from the sky.”
“Amazing,” Louis says, picturing it easily. “I can’t wait to do snow
angels with you.”

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Harry laughs again, his cheeks pink under the streetlights, the
coolness in the air nothing at all like
Chicago but fitting for December nonetheless. “We’ll have to invite
Niall.”
“Of course.” They walk in quiet for a moment before Louis laughs.
Harry glances over with slightly raised eyebrows, a silent, “Tell me,
please.”
Louis doesn’t hesitate. “I was talking to Niall last night and he said
he can’t picture us in the same space. Like, he knows we’re
together but he can’t picture it.”
“He’s seen pictures of us together,” Harry says. “He’s Skyped us
both together.”
“I know. That’s what I told him. He said he just wants to see us
interact. Like, see what we do when no one is watching.”
Harry scrunches his nose, thumb tracing over the back of Louis’s
hand slowly. “Like we’re animals in a zoo?”
Louis laughs, “I wish I would have said that. I just kind of mumbled
through an answer that I can’t even remember.”

“Do you remember when we first told him we were dating?”

“Yes,” Louis says, smirking at the memory of the way Niall had
told them they were lying at least twelve times and then refused to
believe them for almost a month after they got back to campus.
“And the way he kept asking for proof?”
“He’d test me,” Harry says, though Louis already knows the story.
“Ask me weird shit about you to try and trip me up.”

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“Didn’t work when we were laying on the couch answering his
texts together,” Louis says, a bit smug.

“And of course then he was mad we didn’t tell him earlier.”

“Of course.” Louis rolls his eyes fondly. He can’t wait to see Niall
and buy him a drink, or ten, for playing matchmaker in the first
place. He can’t wait to sit in a bar in Chicago with all of his friends
and Harry right next to him, to walk down the snowy streets, and
get wine drunk with their families. He squeezes Harry’s hand
without comment and Harry reciprocates.
“I can’t wait to be there,” Harry says on a sigh like Louis has
spoken out loud.
Louis pauses and pulls Harry to him, slips one hand along the side
of his neck and kisses him slowly, a quiet campus, flickering
streetlights and a soft breeze dancing over them. He nearly says it,
nearly says, “I love you so much, sometimes I can’t breathe,” but he
just says, “Me neither.”
Louis takes the drive slow while Harry plays around with the radio,
finally landing on a station playing exclusively Christmas songs.
It’s Sam Smith’s rendition of, “Have Yourself A Merry Little
Christmas,” which alway has the distinct tendency to make Louis
feel like he’s going to cry. Harry drops his hand from the dial and
lets it rest along Louis’s thigh, humming quietly as he closes his
eyes, head drifting back against the headrest of the seat.
There’s a funny sense of nostalgia when they’re in the car like this,
driving further than the grocery store or the post office. Harry’s
Jeep is where it all started and, often, nearly ended. Louis fell in
love with Harry sitting right like this, miles falling to the wayside,
music blurring a soundtrack, the nights and days blending together.
He never knew he was falling in love - didn’t know until it smacked

553
him in the face in the shape of Harry’s smile, the curve of his jaw,
warmth of his heart.
Louis gets on the Pacific Coast Highway and Harry barely opens
his eyes as the car picks up speed. He smiles and Louis smirks back
at him, a secret passed between them in silence. “I know where
you’re taking me.” “I know you do.”
They did this more in the very beginning; once they were back on
campus and feeling their way through something clunky and
uneven, something forged on late nights and early mornings, diner
food and tacky tourist pit stops. They had to figure out how to make
plans to see each other, how to balance school with their life
together, how not to lose what they’d fought hard to find.
It wasn’t easy. Louis would venture to say that it’s still not. They
argue a bit, don’t see eye to eye on simple things, show their flaws
to each other like a hand of cards turned out. Harry thinks Louis
pokes too much, Louis thinks Harry doesn’t say enough. They slam
doors and walk away, roll their eyes with dismissive waves of their
hands.
They hold on tight, though. They don’t let more than a day pass
without talking, even when they’re angry. They talk things out even
when it’s like pulling Harry’s teeth to do so. Louis listens when
Harry tells him he’s taking things too far, when his fun and games
aren’t exactly that fun anymore.
They have a lot of sex - make up and otherwise. They laugh at the
things no one else finds funny, they whisper secrets at midnight
when they’re in bed. They get drunk at the bars on campus and
make out against street lamps while they try to walk back home.
They sing songs at the top of their lungs and dance on the couch;
they study at the library and text each other good luck for tests.

554
And they drive. It’s the constant through the good and the bad,
silent drives down the Pacific Coast Highway, down to their spot.
Louis is the one who found it, one night when he was so frustrated
by his courses and Harry was caught up in a study session he
couldn’t get out of. Just take my car and go somewhere Harry had
text him. Louis didn’t know where to go but he did it anyway,
curving out over the highway with the ocean out his window, Green
Day blasting through the speakers like a seventeen year old
rebellion. And then he’d found it, one stray turn into a deserted
alcove. He stayed for a bit, long enough to fall in love with the
cliffs and endless ocean view and then he’d raced back to campus
to get Harry. He waited outside Harry’s study session and then
whisked him away just past midnight, leaving everything behind for
a cliff they now call theirs.
“Knew it,” Harry says as Louis’s takes the familiar turn, slowing
the car. Louis smiles and takes Harry’s hand from his thigh, kisses
his fingertips and then slides their fingers together.
“How many times do you think we’ve been here?” Louis asks as the
Jeep slows to a stop.
“A million,” Harry says. He lets his hand slip from Louis’s to undo
his seatbelt.
“Something like that.” Louis rolls his eyes as he mirrors Harry’s
actions. They’ve known each other since the end of August - four
months. It feels like nothing and everything all at once. A million
times and the first time every time.
The way Louis has parked is by strategy, by practice. They open the
back hatch of the Jeep and climb inside, the blankets still there from
last time, an empty bottle of wine they both laugh about when they
see it tipped over. That was the night they slept out here - when they

555
fucked with the Pacific Ocean as their audience, the stars winking
at them because they’re idiots and they’re in love. They fell asleep
with wine stained smiles, and wearing absolutely nothing else. They
could, they can, because they live in Los Angeles and it never gets
all that cold, not even at Christmas, not even now.
Now, they sit with their backs against the back seat, legs out in front
of them, touching from their thighs to their ankles in a faded ode to
a drive in movie in Oklahoma. The cliff dives off a few yards from
the edge of the back of the car, the ocean battling against the rocks
below, a soothing sway if not a bit rambunctious. The sky is clear,
midnight blue with dots of stars; the smog not as persistent here, on
the edge of the earth.
Harry holds Louis’s hand with both of his in his lap, his head on
Louis’s shoulder, silence washing over them. The rest of the world
doesn’t exist when they’re here, it’s just the two of them all over
again. It’s them and the sky, the moon. The same sky and moon that
followed them from Chicago to Los Angeles, the endless sky the
one continuous backdrop of their grand romance.
“How was your day?” Harry asks once they’re settled, breathing
even and heartbeats slowing.
“Not that good,” Louis muses. “Woke up without you, first of all,”
he pauses to turn and kiss the side of Harry’s head, his hair smelling
of raspberries. “Spilled my coffee so I was late to lecture. I got a
headache and then I couldn’t focus on writing my essay, didn’t eat
lunch, forgot to put my laundry in the dryer.” He sighs as
punctuation and Harry laughs quietly.
“Poor baby,” he hums. He squeezes Louis’s hand in his, taps his
fingertips against Louis’s wrist.
“Then I came home,” Louis says like it’s the answer to a riddle.

556
“My boyfriend was there -“
“Was he?” Harry interrupts. “I bet he’s handsome.” “He’s alright,”
Louis says nonchalant.

“And charming.”
“A little full of himself to be honest,” Louis says over a laugh. He
turns his head to meet Harry’s gaze, their lips catching for just a
beat.

“So your boyfriend was there,” Harry leads once they part.
“Yes. And he had put my laundry in the dryer, ordered enough food
for a small village, made me laugh for the first time all day.” Louis
glances at Harry to see him biting his lip over a smile. “He made
me forget everything else that had happened, made everything
crooked right again, made life make sense again.”
There’s a quiet beat and then Harry whistles lowly. “That’s some
boyfriend.”
“He is,” Louis says, smiling over his words because he’s a sap. “Do
you want to know a secret about him?”
The moment turns more sincere as Harry waits for Louis to look at
him before he says, “Yes.”
Louis’s tongue feels heavy but it’s a passing sensation before he
smiles. “I’m in love with him.”
Even in the dark he sees the way Harry hears the words, the ways
his face somehow brightens and he smiles, eyes blinking slowly.
“That’s the first time you’ve said that.”
Louis nods, dropping to pretense of third person. “In so many
words. It’s been true for a while, though.”

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Harry kisses him as an answer, one of his hands brushing the side of
Louis’s face and under his jaw before dropping. Louis presses their
foreheads together and they take steady breaths, the moment
washing over them like the beginning of a memory they’re going to
keep.
“I’ve been saying it for a long time, you know,” Harry says, quiet in
the space between their mouths. “That I love you.”

Louis pulls back, “What?”

Harry smiles, “I whisper it when you fall asleep first. Which is
almost every night.”
Louis can’t even help his smile as he shakes his head. “That can’t
possibly count.”
“Count?” Harry raises his eyebrows. “Is it a competition?”
Louis rolls his eyes and then kisses Harry’s lips quick, catches him
completely off guard. Louis tugs Harry back so he’s a bit more into
his chest, Harry’s head on his shoulder as he turns his face to kiss
Louis’s neck.
“Love you,” he whispers right there against his skin. Louis hears it
all the same. He reaches up to scratch his fingers through Harry’s
hair, run over the shell of his ear.

“How was your day?” Louis asks even quieter than Harry did.
“Up and down,” Harry says. Louis feels his jaw move against the
top of his shoulder as he speaks. “I’m just tired, and ready to be
done.” “Same,” Louis says softly.

“I’m so excited,” Harry says. He swallows and Louis feels that too.

558
“I can’t wait for you to meet my family, for you to meet my friends.
I can’t wait to like, walk around the Christmas market with you and
go to the bars in River North. I can’t wait to see you in my living
room, in my mom’s kitchen. She makes these scones on Christmas
morning, and I know you’ll love them. I can’t wait for you to have
one.”
Louis laughs when Harry finishes, as his voice goes almost
breathless. He sits up a bit to study Louis’s face, smiling when he
sees there’s no tease on Louis’s face, just unfiltered joy.
“I can’t wait either,” Louis says, a different iteration of the feeling
settled in his veins since finals began.
“I can’t wait until I try to give you birthday sex and we have to
sneak around so no one hears,” Harry adds on belatedly, giggling
over his words.
“That’s the spirit,” Louis says. “Christmas and quiet birthday sex.
‘Tis the season.”
Harry laughs and it’s loud in their tiny world but it’s warm, the
curves and loops making Louis join in. Harry kisses his neck again
before he lays his ear on Louis’s shoulder and lets the quiet sink in.

Louis hears Harry take a deep breath and then, “Thank you.”
“What for?” Louis says rather than voicing the sarcastic, “You’re
welcome,” already poised on the top of his tongue.

“First, for bringing me here tonight. I needed it.”

Louis internally pumps his fist; outside he just presses his fingertips
against the outside seam of Harry’s jeans. “Of course.”
“More than that,” Harry says. “There’s something else.” Louis
settles his hand on Harry’s thigh, waits for more.

559
“I know you came into the picture a bit late but you managed to
make this year one of the very best of my life,” Harry says, his lips
moving steadily over the top of Louis’s collarbone as he speaks.
“So, thank you.”
Sometimes Harry makes Louis’s heart fold at the edges. It can be
over little stuff, like making him a cup of tea or buying milk when
he’s out but there’s times like this, when he says stuff that punches
the air out of Louis’s lungs and makes his stomach tumble in the
best way.
There’s nothing more worth saying here, nothing he can say with
words at least. He tips Harry’s chin up with his fingertips and kisses
him, then. His tongue sweeps over Harry’s lips and tastes the inside
of his mouth, swallows each exhale and pulls him in tighter until
the space between them barely exists.
“It’s been my pleasure,” Louis says between smaller, softer kisses.
The greatest pleasure of my life, he adds just for himself. Maybe
they’ll get there next - where they say things like that. Things to
sweep each other off their feet, things to wrap themselves around
each other in every last way. Things that promise more than a
moment and more than a few months. Things that promise a
lifetime.
“Do you know what else I’m excited for?” Louis asks once they
slow again. He barely pauses for an answer, “I’m excited for you to
be my New Year’s kiss,” he says. He’s thought of it before their
second to last day of the road trip. He didn’t say it out loud then but
he can’t keep it quiet anymore. Midnight, champagne, a fresh
beginning, and Harry - it’s a combination he can’t wait to try.
“I hadn’t even thought of it, really,” Harry says, laughing at Louis’s
quiet, “Hey,” in soft protest. “I was more focused on Christmas,”

560
Harry defends gently. “But yes,” he says, “I can’t wait for that
either. The best goodbye to this year and happiest hello to the next.”
There’s a quiet beat before he says, “And the next.”
Louis smiles against the top of Harry’s head, happiness exploding
right in the center of his chest.
“Can’t wait,” he whispers, closing his eyes for just a moment.
They’ll have to leave soon - get back so Harry can finish studying
before they go to bed. But for now they have this - one moment
stretching on like taffy in the back of Harry’s Jeep with the stars
sparkling overhead, holding onto each other with the most sincere
promise of more to come.

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