1

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 lightsdancing
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.
“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?”

2
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.
“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.”

3
“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 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
4
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, 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.”

5
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
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

6
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?”
“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.

7
“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.
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.

DAY ONE
Chicago, Illinois

8
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.
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 half-heartedly.

9
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 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.

10
“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.
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.
11
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 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.

12
“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 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

13
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.
“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
14
asks - maybe pull over and tell Louis to get out of the car, for
one.
“Sure,” Harry says instead.
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
15
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 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.

16
“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.
“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

17
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.
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.
18
“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 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?”

19
“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.”
Louis gets half a laugh out of Harry for that. “I can assure you I
don’t know what I mean.”

20
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.”
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.

21
“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 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.”

22
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 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.

23
“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.
Harry isn’t behind Louis when he emerges into the parking lot
and he vaguely wonders if he should worry. He wasn’t walking

24
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.
Harry puts his hand on his neck self-consciously. “I was itching
it, probably made it red.”

25
“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
Jack-In-The-Box reaction of opening it again, their bags tumbling
out onto the asphalt parking lot.

26
“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.
“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.

27
“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,” 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,

28
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.”

29
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
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.”

30
“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.

31
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 got stung by a bee. He

32
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?”
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
33
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.”

34
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 breze 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.”

35
Louis laughs imagining the scene - it sounds like an elaborate
practical joke which he can always get behind. “I can’t believe
you 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.”

36
They pause at the next mural, a retro advertisement for the
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?”

37
“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 feeling like he might need a milkshake and he’s
debating whether he cares if Harry judges him for it.

38
“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.”
“Why lock it, then?” Louis asks, tilting his head to the side.
Harry shrugs, “Importance doesn’t always intersect with value.”
39
“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.
“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?”

40
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.”
“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.

41
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.
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.

42
“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 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.

43
“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.
“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?”

44
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. “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.”

45
“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.”
“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.
46
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.
“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.

47
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.”
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.”

48
“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
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.

49
“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.
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.

50
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 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.

51
“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.
“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?”

52
“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.”
“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

53
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.
“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.
54
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
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.”

55
“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,” 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 semi- interesting, 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.

56
“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.”
“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.”

57
“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 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.

58
“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 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
59
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 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.”

60
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?”
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.

61
“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.
“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.
62
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.”
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.

63
“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 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.”

64
“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.”
“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,
65
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 isworth 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
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
66
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.”
“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.”
67
“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.
“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.”

68
“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.”
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.”

69
“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 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.”

70
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.”
“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

71
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.
“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.”

72
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.”
“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.

73
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 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
74
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 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.”
75
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.
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
76
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 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).

77
“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.”
“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.

78
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.”
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.”

79
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.
“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
80
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.
“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.
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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 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.
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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 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
83
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.
“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.

84
“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.”
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.”

85
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 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
86
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.”
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.

87
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.”
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

88
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.
“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.

89
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
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.”
90
“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.”

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?”

91
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.”
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.”
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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.
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.

93
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 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.

94
“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.
*

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

95
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.
“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.
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“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.” “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

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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.
“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

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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.
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.

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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
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.

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“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.
“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
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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.
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.
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“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.”
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.
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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.
“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

105
inhaler with startling clarity as he glances over at Harry. “Good?”
He asks.
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 in 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.
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“I don’t think I can do this,” Harry says.
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

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crotch and pats twice. Louis raises a questioning eyebrow and
Harry almost smiles.
“Felt like I peed my pants,” he says.
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.”

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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 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.

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

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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
make-do 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.
“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.

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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 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 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.

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“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.

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

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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 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.

*
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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
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.

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“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
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.

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“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.

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

117
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 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.
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“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.”
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.”

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“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 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.

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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.”
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.”

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“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.
“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.

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“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
Drive-In Theatre’ in bold red lettering.
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.

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“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 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.

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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.
“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.”

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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 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.
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“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
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.

127
“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.”
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

128
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.
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
129
 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.
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.

130
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.
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.
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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.
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
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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 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.
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“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.”
“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.

134
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.”
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

135
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?”
“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
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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 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.

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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.
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

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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 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.
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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 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

140
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 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

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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 well-
being.”
This time Harry laughs as they start walking again, whatever
reservations he’d had about Louis being offended fading away.
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.

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“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?” 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.

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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.”
“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.”
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*
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.
“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.

145
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.”
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.

146
“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
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.

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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 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

148
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.
“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.”
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“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.”
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.
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“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?”
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.”

151
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 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.
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“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.
“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.
153
“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, “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.

154
“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.”
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.

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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.”
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
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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 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 ten-
thirty is what.”

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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.”
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

158
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.”

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

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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.”
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.”

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“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.
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.

161
*

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.
“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.”
*

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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.
“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.

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“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.”
“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 ike 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.
*

164
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 art of the country, like if
the car broke down they would be stranded with nothing to find
for miles.
“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

165
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,” 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.

166
*

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.
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

167
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.
“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 t-shirts climbing on top of one car for a group picture.

168
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.
“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

169
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 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 one- up 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.
170
*

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.
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.

171
“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 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.
172
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.
“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.

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.

173
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 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.

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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.
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

175
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 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.
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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 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.

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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.
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.

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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
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.”

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“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 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.

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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.
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.

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“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.”
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.

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“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 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.

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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.
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?”

184
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, 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

185
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.
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
186
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 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?”

187
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.

*
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.”
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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.
“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.
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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.”
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.
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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 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

191
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.

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

192
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.
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.

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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.
“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.

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“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.”
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 buble 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

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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 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.

196
“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.”
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.

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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.
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.

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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 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
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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.
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.”

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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 -
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.”

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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 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.

203
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.”
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 oasis-looking 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.
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“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.
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.”
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“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.”
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?”

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“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.
“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.
*

207
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 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.”

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“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.
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
209
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 which one is his favorite.
“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.”
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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.”
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

211
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.
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.

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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?”
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.

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“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 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.”
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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 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.

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“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.”
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.
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“I don’t mind organic foods,” Harry says. “Just expensive, you
know.”
“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.
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

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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.”
“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?”

220
“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 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

221
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.
“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.

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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
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.

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“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.
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.

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“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.
“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

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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.

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
226
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.
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?”
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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.”
“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

228
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.

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
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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.
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.

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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.
“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 half-
smiles, “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.

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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
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.

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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.
“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.”

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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 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

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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 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.

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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 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.”
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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 by a life size pie of some sort instead of Harry pointing
out the Pie-O-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.

237
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.
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

238
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.
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.
239
“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?”
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.

240
"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."
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."
241
"A lawyer."
"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.

242
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?"
Harry gasps and laughs but Louis sees the way his cheeks turn
pink. "Okay, okay, I'll come up with something else."

243
"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 vomit so that’s a pretty intimate
look into my life, Harry.”
Harry swallows, “Good. I told you, I want to get to know you.”

244
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.”
“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
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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.
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.”
246
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 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.

247
“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.
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

248
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.
“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.

*
249
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.”
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.
250
“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.
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

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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.
“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
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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.
“She’d probably tell us to sleep in the field if we did,” Harry says,
shifting his weight.
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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.”
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.”

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“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.
“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.”
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“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.
“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
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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.
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.

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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.
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
259
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 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.

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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
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.

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“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 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

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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 alongwith 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. 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.

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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. “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.

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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.
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,
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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.
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.
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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?”
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.

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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.
“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
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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.”
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.

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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.
“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.

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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 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

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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.
“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.

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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.
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

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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 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.

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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?”
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.

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“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.

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
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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 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.

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*

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
mouth. Harry stands and holds up his toothbrush. "Just need to
brush my teeth," he says, already heading for the bathroom.

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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?”
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.

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“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.
“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.

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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.
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.
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“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.
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.

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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.
He starts by getting out of the car and making fun of Harry’s
untied converse shoes and then tapping his toe impatiently while

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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.”
Louis isn’t sure that qualifies as foolproof knowledge but he lets
it go.

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“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.”
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

285
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.”
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
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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.”
“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

287
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.
“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
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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.”
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.”

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“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.
“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.
*
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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
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.”
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“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 o 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.
“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.

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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 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.

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“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.
“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
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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.”
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.
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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.”
“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

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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.
“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.”

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“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.

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.
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“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, 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.”

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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.
“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?”

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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?”
“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
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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 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 rinks. 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
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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.
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
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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.”
“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

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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.
“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.

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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?”
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
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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 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.

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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.

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.

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Louis is really thankful his thoughts are not broadcast out loud.
“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 not-so-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.”
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“I’m not hungover,” Harry says after a pause. “Why am I not
hungover?”
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.

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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 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.

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They don’t talk as they grind and gasp against each other,
fingernails digging in, blood rushing to the surface. Harry is loud
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 another town Louis
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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.

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“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?”
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
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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 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
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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
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.

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“I think I’ll judge all future kisses by how many muscles are
involved,” Louis says conversationally. “I need upwards of
twenty-five for it to be a stellar kiss. Anything less in
unacceptable.”
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

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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.
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 rand 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.

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"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."
"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

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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."
"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

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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 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

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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 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
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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.
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 –
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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.
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.

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*

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 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
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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, 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.

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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 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

328
and then has to knee-walk back to the picnic basket to put the
bottle back.
“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.

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“Wait, she bit you?” Louis focuses in on what Harry is actually
saying rather than the sweet tone of his voice.
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.”

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Louis picks up a piece of broccoli from their vegetable plate and
waves it around lazily. “Are you tempted?”
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 -
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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 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
feel tied together, he can’t help but feel the edge of sadness
curling over Harry’s words.
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“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.”
“Because you’ll tell them,” Harry leads, smirking. It’s what they
talked about at the lake in New Mexico when Louis though Harry

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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.”
Harry smiles and his shoulders curve forward as he tries not to
laugh. “Yeah, maybe.”

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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.
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

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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.
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
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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.
“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.

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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.

*
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

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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.
"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.
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"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.
"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
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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.
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.
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"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?"
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.
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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 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."
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"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 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

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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.
"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

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to know everything about him. Neither of hose 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.
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,

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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.
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.

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“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.”
“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.

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“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.
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.

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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 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.”

351
“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.
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.

352
“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.
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.
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Instead of letting the lump in his throat push up, he swallows and
takes a bite out his pancake- bear’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.

It’s cool enough they can drive with the windows down instead of
the air conditioning, the breze 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.

354
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.
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."

355
"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. "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."
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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."
"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

357
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.
"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.

358
"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?"
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
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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."
"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

360
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.
"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.
361
"What?" Harry asks even as he slips off a silver ring from his
right hand.
"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.

362
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."
"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

363
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 clicking on the keyboard and then Greg

364
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. He holds up his left hand, "My fiancé and I are getting
married in Jamaica next summer. I know the feeling."
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"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."
"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."
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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 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.

367
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."
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.

368
"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 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."

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"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.
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.

370
"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.
"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.
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"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.
"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.
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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.
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.”

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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?”
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
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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 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 four-
story 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 half- in 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.
375
“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 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.”
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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.
“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.”
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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
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.”
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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.

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.”
379
“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.
“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,
380
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.”
“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

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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 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.”
Louis shakes his head, still in disbelief Harry has been sitting on
this secret for their whole trip.
382
“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.”

383
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

384
tries to order drinks though he doesn’t mind the wait, trying to
bite down on his smile like a lunatic.
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.
385
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, 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.

386
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?”
“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.”

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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.”
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

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on the table and hands Harry his whiskey sour with a sweet
smile.
“Fuck,” Harry breathes, his cheeks and neck already red.
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.
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“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 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

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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 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.
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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.
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.

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.
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“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.
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.

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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.”
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.

394
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.
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.

395
"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.
"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

396
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.
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,

397
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.
"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."
398
"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?"

399
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.

400
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.

401
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.
"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,

402
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.”
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.
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“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.
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.”

404
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?”
Harry laughs lightly; he probably didn’t expect Louis to drag it on.
“Someone else can make it,” he allows.
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“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?”
Harry laughs and shakes his head. “Thanks.”
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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.”
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.”

407
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?”
“A portfolio project?”
“For a BDSM convention?”

408
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.”
“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.”

409
“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.”
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.”

410
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.
“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.

411
*

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 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.

412
"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 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.

413
"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
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.

414
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.
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

415
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.
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
416
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?"
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."

417
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 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

418
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.
"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."

419
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.

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.

420
"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.
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.

421
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?" 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

422
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."
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

423
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

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.

424
"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
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.

425
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. "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.

426
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 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.

427
*

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 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."

428
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.
"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
429
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 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.

430
"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."
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.

431
*

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 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.

432
"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 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
433
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 drive- in 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.
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

434
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.
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.

435
"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 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."
436
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 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.

437
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.
"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
438
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 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."

439
"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."
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.

440
"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.
"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.
441
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 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.
442
"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 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.
443
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.

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.

444
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.
"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."
445
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.
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,
446
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
447
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.
"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

448
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.
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

449
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.
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.

450
"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.

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.

451
"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.
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.

452
"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.

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."
453
"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."
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."

454
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."
"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.

455
"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."
"Thank you?" Harry tilts his head, "I think?"
"Definitely a compliment," Louis says nodding quickly.
"Personally, I'm a big fan of your tongue."
456
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.

457
"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 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."

458
"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.

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

459
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."
"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.
460
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."
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
461
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?"

462
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 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

463
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.
"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.

464
"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."
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,
465
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

466
lake. There isn't even a question between the two of them as
they purchase tickets for the next ride.
"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

467
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.
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."
468
"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 - 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
469
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

470
Louis then and he pauses, smiling sheepishly at him, clearly
curious how much Louis has heard.
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

471
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.
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

472
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 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
473
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?"

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Harry licks his lip, "I want to come, baby. That's what I want."
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

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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
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
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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.
It takes Louis a second to remember. "The elephants?"
Harry lifts his head and smiles sleepily. "The elephants."

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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.
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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 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
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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?"
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
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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.
"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
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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

483
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.

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