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Louis could feel the car gently come to a halt on the gravel drive, and he could hear the excited chatter of his sisters as they immediately hopped out and started grabbing their belongings from the trunk. He could sense the smell of lake, pine, and forest all around them. But he was somehow still unable to will himself to move from his place in the backseat of the Cayenne where his head was resting against the window, eyes tightly shut. Maybe if he wished hard enough, he could teleport himself to....anywhere but there. 

"Louis darling," came the soft, concerned tone of his mother's voice as she peeked her head in through the passenger side door. "Are you planning on getting out of the car anytime today?"

Louis slowly and reluctantly pried his eyes open to stare blankly at his mother, who was smiling back at him with a  happy grin that his own face was unable to match.

"Oh come on, don't be a lump on a stump!" his mother continued. "You should be bouncing off of the walls! In a couple of months you'll be heading off to uni. To Harvard.  You've worked so hard for this your entire life. And now I'd say it's time you had a little fun for a change."

Ah, yes. Harvard. During the course of the hours long car ride he'd just endured, Louis had convinced himself that this summer, maybe, just maybe, his parents might refrain from the constant reminders about how in a few short months they would be shipping him off to the States for what they liked to call "the opportunity of a lifetime." 

He was obviously mistaken.

Louis supposed getting an education from a school like Harvard University was an exciting prospect for most people; but from his perspective, it was just another decision about his life that his parents had made for him. After years of fruitless hinting, asking, and finally pleading with them to support his dream to study music in London, Louis had somehow ended up here, in the middle of the woods, "celebrating" his imminent transition from aspiring pianist to Harvard economics student. Apparently he and his family did not share the same idea of what constituted fun. 

"Alright, Ig-Lou," his father chimed in, whipping Louis' door open so fast that he almost fell out of the car. "It's time to perk up! We're sending you to uni, not prison. Now grab your things. It's time to commune with nature, son! Just us and the elements." Louis felt his father's large hand clap him on the back as he finally stepped out of the car and found his balance on wobbly legs.

"Dad, we're at a luxury lake resort,” Louis snorted. “Not exactly roughing it."

His father just shrugged as he looked up at the spacious, two story lake house they'd rented for the summer. "Close enough. Now get a move on, Harvard man!" 

Louis silently cringed as he watched his family giddily make their way up the drive to the house, like watching a strange movie in which he'd been miserably miscast. Somewhere through the haze of his frustration, he heard his mother shout, "Last one to the hot tub is a rotten egg!"

It was going to be a long summer. 

~~~~~~~~

Much to the dismay of his mother and sisters, Louis decided to forgo the hot tub in favor of taking a walk around the resort and generally escaping the discomfort of pretending to share his family's good cheer. He just wasn't feeling it. As he made his way down the front porch and headed toward the lake, he let the late afternoon air wash over him and felt his chest unclench a little in relief. For the first time that day, he finally had a bit of solitude and silence to clear his head. No voices, no pressure, no Harvard. Just trees and and blue water as far as the eye could see. 

Making his way along the earthy path that wound itself between the other houses lining the lakefront, Louis thought to himself that he might actually enjoy this place if it weren't for the resentment that had settled in his stomach and then swallowed him whole. The beautiful houses with their clean, wooden architecture and large cascading windows played spectator to the happy canoes and paddle boats making soft ripples in the water, the greenery surrounding them creating a sense of secret paradise. But for all of the beauty around him, Louis was still bothered by the reason he was there in the first place. 

It's not that he didn't appreciate his parents planning a family vacation in his honor—he knew they meant well. It was just that they never asked Louis what he wanted, and it seemed that they didn't care. It was bad enough that they were essentially forcing him to move halfway round the world to pursue a path in which he had no interest, but that they hadn't even let him have a say in where they would go to celebrate his hollow accomplishment only added insult to injury. To Louis' suggestion that he might prefer a short trip to Vienna over a summer at Lake Willward, his mother had replied, "Oh don't be silly, darling! You'll love the Lake. You've always loved the Lake." And it was settled. Once again, Louis and his opinion, swept aside, erased, invisible. At least he was used to it by now. 

Continuing to wander aimlessly, Louis allowed the the dirt path to carry him along as he took in the sight of a bird flitting between the branches of a beech tree, a couple of cyclists racing down a hill, a woman jogging with her dog.

And then he noticed a pair of curious green eyes mapping his every move from a distance. Louis stopped in his tracks as the green-eyed stranger standing down by the docks seemed to keep him pinned in place with a steady gaze. At first, Louis wasn't sure if the green-eyed boy was actually staring at him or something behind him, but a quick glance at the unremarkable wall of trees over his shoulder seemed to suggest that it was the former.

Louis held his breath, taking in the boy’s tall, lean figure as his green eyes continued to look on with brazen curiosity. Despite the space separating them, Louis could see that his apparent admirer was strikingly attractive.     

In a panic, Louis turned on his heel and quickly resumed walking, his heart hammering against his chest. He didn't chance another glance back at the stranger as he continued up the path, but he had a feeling that Green Eyes was still watching his retreating figure. With a secret smile playing on his lips, he suddenly didn't feel so invisible anymore. 

Nearing the end of the path and still basking in the glow of his small thrill, Louis came across the Main Inn of the resort nestled in a quiet corner of the forest. The Inn was a wood-crafted mini mansion that managed to feel luxuriously grand yet surprisingly cozy, and to Louis it looked like the perfect refuge from the awkward interactions awaiting him back at his family's lake house.

Entering through the front door of the Inn, Louis saw that the place was buzzing with activity. The lobby was scattered with people greeting one another, playing board games near the hearth, and picking up maps and information from the Resort Concierge. The inviting air of the space made Louis smile for what was the second time that day, and he was amazed, though a bit saddened, by how much more comfortable he felt in the company of these happy strangers than he did with his own family.  

As Louis took himself on a self-guided tour of the Inn, he passed by a small cafe, a sunlit library, and an enormous gym, before finally stumbling upon the Great Room. The Great Room was by far the largest space in the Inn, and it was beautifully decorated with chic rustic lounge furniture and captivating artwork. With its high-end decor and floor-to-ceiling windows, the room was stunning to say the least. The one thing that demanded Louis' attention, however, was the cherry wood Steinway grand piano sitting in the corner like an oasis in the desert. It was the most beautiful piano Louis had ever seen, and he was immediately and helplessly drawn to it. 

Louis crossed the room and approached the piano, lightly running his fingertips along the keys in silent admiration before taking a seat on its bench. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he smiled to himself. Just sitting in front of the marvelous instrument instantly relaxed every muscle in his body, every bit of tension gone as the sweet anticipation of music swirled through his head like nicotine.

Eyes still closed, Louis poised his fingers on the keys and let them take over as the opening notes of Debussy's Claire de Lune began spilling out of him. For a few seconds, Louis was aware of a handful of resort-goers stopping their conversations to hear to him play, soft notes filling the room. But as the music intensified, he got lost in it--just him, the piano, and a delightful melody that said so much. It was times like this that he breathed easiest, could express himself most eloquently, felt most accepted and understood. Music never interrogated him about his future or judged his choices or asked him to be someone he wasn't. It just let him speak the best way he knew how, and more importantly, it listened. As Louis looked up from where his fingers were still conversing with the keys, he saw that someone else was listening too.  

"Green Eyes," Louis blurted involuntarily, his playing coming to an abrupt halt and prompting an unpleasant clank from the keys. He gaped at the familiar face watching him from the other end of the piano. 

Green Eyes cocked his head to one side, humor lighting his face as he furrowed his brow in playful confusion. "Actually, most people call me Harry," he smirked. "But I'm always open to new and...oddly descriptive nicknames."

Louis stared up at Harry, whose green eyes were incidentally accompanied by a stunningly gorgeous face and long, curly brown hair that cascaded over broad shoulders. With heat beginning to rise to his cheeks under Harry's attention, Louis said the first thing that popped into his head. "Did you follow me here?" His eyes widened in horror as he mentally kicked himself for being such an awkward human being. He wished he could fall through the floor.

Harry, on the other hand, smiled easily, leaning against the piano. "And if I said yes?"

Louis' heart thumped loudly in his ears as he tried to catch his breath and figure out what episode of the Twilight Zone he'd fallen into. Oh right, the one where the insanely hot stalker follows him around a resort for reasons unknown. Louis' legs were telling him to make a run for it, but against his better judgment, he stayed in place for the moment. "You know, Harry," Louis cleared his throat nervously, "some people might consider that...a bit creepy." 

This time Harry huffed a quiet laugh as he looked down at the floor, then back at Louis. "Do you?"

"Well... I...." Louis was visibly flustered by Harry's calm demeanor and casual reaction to the implied accusation, but even still, he knew that his answer to Harry's question was unequivocally no. Oddly enough, he felt slightly embarrassed by how much he rather enjoyed the idea of Harry noticing him. Harry had seen him and decided for some reason that he was someone worth pursuing, and even now, as Louis struggled to find his words, Harry was studying him as if he was the only person in the room. This was new. Regaining a modicum of composure, Louis couldn't help the small smile that crept its way onto his face. "Listen..." he finally spoke up again, "I don't make a habit of talking to random strangers." He gave himself another mental kick. 

"Are you sure about that?" Harry grinned, wiggling his eyebrows and not missing a beat. "I've got candy in my pocket."

At that, Louis threw his head back in laughter, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Okay, now that  was creepy."

Harry seemed pleased with himself as he chuckled, and with the sunlight framing his striking face, Louis thought that Harry's was the kind of smile that people wrote symphonies about. 

Wow, what the fuck.  

"Harry, it was really nice meeting you," Louis started abruptly, alarmed by his own musings. "But um...I should get going." 

Harry's smile fell slightly, a look of concern clouding his boyish features as he spoke hurriedly. "Hey, I didn't mean to run you off. Really, you don't have to stop playing on my account. You play beautifully by the way. I--"

"No, it's not you," Louis lied, rising from the piano bench. But Harry absolutely was the reason he was running off, and he knew it. The eyes, the hair, the face, the voice that sounded like sandpaper and honey, his easy manner, the way he looked at Louis, the way he made him laugh just now, the way Louis enjoyed it much too much—it all spelled danger, and Louis' self-preservation instincts kicked in. It was fight or flight, and flight was definitely winning. "I just told my family I'd be back in time for us all to have dinner together so...you know. But it really was nice meeting you. Maybe try not to stalk anymore guests," Louis added, trying to keep his tone light as he turned to go.

Harry smiled bemusedly as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and called after Louis. "I just wanted to get your name."

Louis turned to face Harry, continuing to walk backwards out of the room. In a rare moment of playfulness brought on by the sheer relief of safely extracting himself from the situation, he shouted, "Maybe next time, Green Eyes."

On the walk home, the pink and orange smear of the sunset lighting the way, Louis contemplated a smile that looked like music and silently debated whether or not Harry had been flirting with him.

~~~~~~~~

In the days following his awkward encounter in the Great Room, Louis had perfected the art of only spending as much time around his family as was absolutely necessary. It seemed that all they ever wanted to talk about was Harvard. Even his younger sisters couldn't contain their excitement, constantly asking him questions about what classes he would take first semester and offering him unsolicited advice on how to meet cute upperclassmen guys. Lottie, who was the oldest of the girls, tended to show more empathy for his situation and had always been the one to validate his feelings and comfort him over the years. With his impending day of doom looming so closely, however, even she had begun to slip into a state of resignation on Louis' behalf, often teasing him with placating comments like, "You might be selling your soul, but on the bright side, I heard Harvard has awesome parties!" While at the very least Louis appreciated Lottie seeing his less than ideal circumstances for what they were, it still didn't change the fact that the constant chatter about them made his desire to distance himself from everything almost unbearable. 

So Louis began using Harvard to his advantage. Four days in a row his mom and dad had tried to drag him along on their excursions throughout the district, and each time Louis declined because he "needed to spend some time researching for Harvard." As vague an excuse as it it was, it was good enough for his parents, who'd simply reply with some variation of "I'm so proud of you, darling!" or "Attaboy, Ig-Lou!" Lottie, on the other hand, just gave him a wink and a knowing smile. 

For as much as Louis hated lying to his family, he was relieved to have bought some time to himself to truly relax and occasionally steal away to the piano in the Great Room. On a couple of the days that he did venture over to the Inn, he'd spotted Harry either working out at the gym or grabbing lunch at the café. The moment that Harry noticed Louis or tried to approach him, however, the alarm bells would go off in Louis' mind and he'd bolt as fast as he possibly could. Later on, while lying in bed or sitting alone on the docks, Louis would replay the scenes in his mind and think back on all of the ways he should have handled things differently with Harry, all of the conversation starters he could have used instead of running away. But in the end, he'd always find a way to justify his actions, clinging to the idea that he simply preferred his own company over anyone else's.  

Yeah. That was it.        

At the end of the their first full week at the resort, Louis' family headed out early on Saturday morning for an excursion to a nearby attraction as had become their daily routine. Still half asleep in his bed, Louis felt the mattress sink down as his mother came and sat beside him, gently pushing the hair off his forehead and planting a kiss there. "Louis, darling," she whispered. "We're headed out for the day."

Louis blinked his sleep-heavy eyes open and gave his mother a soft smile in response. "Kay, mum."

His mother studied his face silently for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Lou, I know you've been busy preparing for school," she continued, still stroking his head, "and I'm happy to see that you're already applying yourself so aggressively. I knew you'd come around, sweetheart." She pecked him once more on the forehead. "I'll leave you to get your day started, but don't forget we're going to the Summer Welcome Dinner at the Main Inn tonight, okay? All of the resort guests will be there so try to...you know, chipper up."

Right. Once again, Louis would reprise his role as the good, perfect, and happy son while his parents reveled in the opportunity to brag to strangers about his acceptance to Harvard. He wanted to scream just thinking about it, but instead he opted to save his breath and nod his head.

Satisfied, his mother flashed him a smile as she rose from the bed and headed toward the door. "Excellent! We're going to head straight over to the Inn when we get back, but we'll plan to meet you there around six. Happy researching, darling!"

As soon as Louis was sure his family was gone, he rolled over and released a long, tortured groan into his pillow. 

~~~~~~~~

After a long day of piano playing, jogging, and lazing by the docks, Louis dragged himself back to the lake house to get dressed for dinner. It was already 6:15 by the time he started making his way toward the Inn, but he wasn't in any particular hurry to get there. Over the course of his 10 minute journey, he started mentally preparing himself for the misery that awaited him in the form of a flavorless plated entree with a side of flat conversation. When he reached the main lobby, he deemed himself sufficiently numb. 

Upon entering the Great Room, which had been transformed into an elegant dining area since his last visit several hours earlier, Louis heard his mother's laugh floating over the cacophony of music, conversation, and clanking dishes right away. He stood in the entryway for several seconds, skimming the dense crowd until he finally spotted her and his father chatting with another couple near a table in one of the far corners of the room. Taking a deep breath and a moment to fix his fringe, Louis started toward them feeling anxious, concentrating all of his energy on putting one foot in front of the other. As he made his way across the floor, Louis glanced over at the man sitting at the piano that he'd somehow started to think of as his own. He wished that he was sitting at the piano instead. 

When his mother turned and saw him approaching, she waved excitedly and called out, "Oh Louis, there you are! Come over here darling, there's some people I'd like you to meet!" And so it had begun. 

"Hi, mum," Louis hummed, greeting his mother with a kiss on the cheek. 

Wrapping an arm around Louis' tense shoulders, his mother turned to introduce him to her captive audience. "Anne, Des, this is my son Louis!" she gushed, giving Louis a little squeeze.

"It's nice to meet you, Louis." The woman next to his mother, who Louis presumed was Anne, extended her hand to him with a friendly smile. "We've heard so much about you!" Louis managed a small grin as he braced himself for what he knew was coming next.

"Likewise," Des chimed in, "and congratulations on getting into Harvard! Brilliant accomplishment it is. You must be very excited!" 

"Thrilled," Louis replied tightly with a forced smile. And for as "thrilled" as he sounded, he might as well have been at a funeral.

Louis' father released an awkward chuckle as he swooped in to break the uncomfortable silence that had ensued. "Ah, don't be modest Louis! You'll be rubbing shoulders with the bigwigs of the business world in no time. You should be proud of yourself, son."

Louis nodded weakly as he imagined escaping through the nearest window. "Yeah, dad."

"You know," Anne started thoughtfully, "our son's just completed his first year at Brunel University in London, and if you're feeling a bit nervous about things perhaps he could give you a few pointers or answer some questions. I'm sure he'd love to meet you..." Anne trailed off as she began scanning the room for her son. "I know he's around here somewhere……..ah! There he is. Harry!" She called out. "Harry honey, come here a moment!"  

Louis froze. Harry. Harry ? Surely there had to be more than one Harry staying at the resort, right? There was no way it could be...

"Yes, mum?" Harry appeared at Anne's side, stopping in his tracks as he caught sight of Louis. The little smirk on Harry's lips accompanied by the glint of humor in his familiar green eyes left Louis feeling a bit lightheaded. He couldn't figure out why his heart was beating out of his chest. 

"Hi sweetheart, I wanted to introduce you to the Tomlinsons," Anne explained excitedly. "Their son here is starting at Harvard in the fall, and I was thinking you could give him a bit of advice about uni. You know, share some of your experiences."

Harry's face alit with amusement at Louis' deer-in-headlights expression. "I think that's a brilliant idea actually," he offered, barely containing his smile. "It's a wonder we didn't meet sooner." And the subtle sarcasm in Harry's voice wasn't lost on Louis. Harry extended his hand in greeting, feigning an exaggeratedly casual air as he gave Louis a pointed look and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?" 

Louis took Harry's hand with with a reluctant smirk and thinly veiled eye-roll.  Touché . "My name is Louis," he replied, a small smile in his voice.

"Well, Louis," Harry grinned, putting extra emphasis on each syllable, "It's a pleasure." With heat rising to his cheeks, Louis blinked at Harry before dropping his eyes to where their hands were joined. 

"Oh how lovely!" Louis' mother chirped excitedly. "Louis' been doing some research on his own, but it'll be great for him to have you as a sounding board, Harry. When it comes to a place like Harvard , there’s no such thing as too prepared!" Louis glanced at his mother in irritation as she flashed Harry a warm smile. He hated when she spoke as if he wasn't standing right there. 

"Right, thanks mum," Louis snapped sharply, freeing himself from Harry's handshake that had lasted about 5 seconds longer than necessary. The alarm bells were blaring. "Good to meet you, Harry. And if you all will excuse me, I'm going to run to the men's room." 

Louis' parents continued to laugh and chat with one another as he turned to go, while Harry watched him with open curiosity. In the back of his mind, Louis was sure that Harry had most definitely deemed him a certified weirdo, but in that moment, he couldn't bring himself to care. During the course of his short conversation with Harry and his parents, the room had become too hot, too small, and too overwhelming. Louis needed air and he needed it now. Flashing courteous little smiles at various guests as he cut through the crowd, Louis made his way to the nearest exit.

Stepping outside, he inhaled deeply, letting the thick evening air fill his lungs. Better. Louis shook the tension from his shoulders as the setting sun cast a vibrant tapestry of colors across the lake's surface and drew him toward the dock. Leisurely making his way down the wooden planks, Louis rolled up his shirt sleeves and pants legs before taking a seat on the dock's far edge. He swung his feet back in forth above the water, taking in the pristine view  before him and pondering why he'd been so eager to escape the Great Room just then. Was it because he hadn't been as mentally prepared for another round of Harvard talk as he thought he was? Or was it because Harry had shown up and looked at him in a way that made it impossible for him to breathe? Did the walls start closing in on him because he was reminded once again of how trapped he felt by his parents expectations? Or was it because Harry's confident presence made him yearn for something unfamiliar and unattainable--something he wanted but couldn't have? 

Either way, Louis wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer. He released a heavy, frustrated sigh and buried his face in his hands, trying to clear his mind of the future and uni and dimples that made his heart skip a beat. 

He had just gotten comfortable in the land of full on self-pity when he heard footsteps behind him. Startled, he whipped around quickly to see none other than Harry approaching, hands in his pockets, long hair blowing in the breeze, eyes on Louis. Great.

Louis turned back toward the water in a panic, heart thumping loudly in his ears as he attempted to steady his breathing. Why did Harry keep following him?? What did he want? Keeping his gaze aggressively fixed on the lake, Louis felt Harry take a seat next to him, pants rolled up to his knees. Out of the corner of his eye, Louis could see that Harry was looking out across the lake as well, his palms resting on the dock behind him. Louis started restlessly counting down to the inevitable—the awkward small talk, the start of nervous, forced conversation—but to his genuine surprise, it didn't come. Instead, Harry just continued to sit beside him in silence, taking in the sunset as the swinging of their legs fell in and out of sync. 

He wasn't sure how many minutes passed as they observed the sun sinking into the lake, but Louis barely noticed when his feelings of anxiousness and unease gave way to a sense of tranquility and contentment. All of the voices in his head that had been scrambling to find the right words to break the stillness went silent, and he allowed himself to enjoy Harry's quiet company. Notions of expectation and pressure blew away in the breeze as he sat there with Harry, alone but no longer lonely. Then Harry spoke, his words hanging in the air, not as the start of a new conversation, but like the continuation of one they'd already been having. 

"You know," he began easily, eyes never leaving the lake, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to."  

Louis looked over at Harry, catching his striking profile in the low evening light. A little while ago he might have thought to be offended by Harry's assumption; he might have lashed out and told Harry that he didn't know the first thing about what Louis did or didn't want, and that it was, frankly, none of his business. But in that moment, tired, calm, and disarmed, he let himself bask in the comfort of Harry's declaration as he sat there wishing it was true. Harry had clearly read the situation in the Great Room very well, and Louis didn't have the energy to pretend otherwise. 

"You make it sound so simple," Louis spoke tenuously with a rueful chuckle. He glanced up at Harry, who was looking back at him with a searching expression.

"Well," Harry murmured, "if you could do anything in the world with your life, what would it be?" And as Louis turned his gaze back to the lake, he could feel Harry's curious eyes lingering on the side of his face. 

He huffed a laugh before responding, "Hmm, let's see. When I was 4 I wanted to be an American Cowboy. When I was 12 I wanted to be an astronaut. And now?" Louis paused, shaking his head as a small, sad smile spread across his lips. "Now, I want to be a musician. But at this point, I have a greater chance of founding my own colony on the moon. It's just...what I want doesn't really matter. It's not reality." 

Harry turned to face Louis, concern clouding his expression. "What? Of course what you want matters. Of course it's real." Then Louis felt Harry's large hand come to rest gently on his shoulder and he momentarily lost his breath before meeting Harry's earnest, green eyes. "I saw you at the piano the other day. I saw the look on your face and all of that passion, and I could tell how much you love it. You were so caught up in it that you didn't even see me standing there. What I saw in you that day, that feeling? That was as real as it gets. But what I saw tonight...you seemed so uncomfortable, miserable almost." 

"Well, Harry," Louis responded, sounding more irritable than he'd intended to, "that's because I was." He shifted his body abruptly, pulling his shoulder from underneath Harry's hand and tucking his knees under his chin defensively.

"Hey," Harry sighed apologetically, "I wasn't trying to offend. I just meant...why is it that you feel like you have to fly halfway round the world to pursue a career that you don't want?"  

Louis wasn't sure how to answer. He ran his fingers through his fringe as he searched carefully for the right words. "I...I don't know, I guess...I mean it's what my parents want for me. They've worked hard to get me the opportunities I've had in life, and they want to see me succeed. Harvard is the perfect symbol of esteem and prestige in their eyes. And to them my music is just a hobby. It's not like I haven't talked to them about my aspirations. It's just that...I wouldn't feel right pursuing it without their support." Louis felt out of his depth confiding this information to Harry. No one had ever really asked him about his motivations. No one had ever really cared.

"A hobby ?" Harry questioned emphatically, his eyebrows shooting toward the sky in genuine surprise. "Have your parents actually ever heard you play? You sound like a seasoned professional. And what do you mean you don't feel 'right' not having their support? What's more right than doing what makes you happy?" As Harry waited patiently for Louis’ response, Louis decided it was time to put an end to this little impromptu game of 21 questions. Harry was beginning to ask about things that he wasn't sure he wanted to think about the answers to for very long. So he changed the subject. 

"What is it with you?" He started with a lighthearted chuckle. "Following me around the resort, interrogating me at parties? I'm not sure how I feel about all this."  

"Hmm," Harry hummed in feigned sadness. "Does this mean I won't be getting an invitation to your colony on the moon?"

At that, Louis released a hearty laugh, playfully bumping his shoulder against Harry's as they sat side by side. "With your track record, I probably couldn't stop you from making your way there if I tried. It seems that avoiding you is quite impossible." After the words left his mouth, Louis quickly ducked his head in an attempt to hide the goofy grin that seemed to have taken up permanent residence on his face.

Harry smiled back at Louis as the evening stars illuminated the space around them and created a soft glow on the lake's surface. Scratching at the back of his neck, Harry bit his lip before responding, "Sooo. I guess this isn't a good time to tell you that your mum invited me over for breakfast tomorrow?"

Louis' eyes crinkled with quiet laughter. "See what I mean?" he replied. 

Harry chuckled, a comfortable silence lingering between them for several seconds. They exchanged a few timid glances before Harry spoke up again. "I want to spend time with you, Louis."

And the way Louis' stomach dropped in that moment made him feel as though he was skydiving, the sensation dizzying. Struggling to catch his breath, he could tell that Harry was looking for a reaction, but he'd unfortunately forgotten all of his words. At Louis' silence, Harry flashed him a knowing smirk and continued, "Look, there's a long summer ahead of us, and I know you've got a lot on your plate. And hey," he paused placing a hand on his chest, "I'm happy to talk about uni with you and tell you all about my first year. But I get the feeling that maybe you just need a few weeks of fun to take your mind off things. And I think I can help with that, if you'll let me. There's no use worrying your vacation away, right?" 

Louis mulled over Harry's words in his head while watching him in rapt awe. For some reason, he couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that this beautiful boy was sitting beside him, taking an interest in his feelings and wanting to know more about him. What’s more, Louis couldn't believe that in those few short minutes on the dock's edge with Harry, he'd finally started to feel like this summer might not be so bad after all. He really didn't know Harry at all, but one thing Louis knew for certain was that being around him made him feel lighter than he had in weeks, like some of the weight had been lifted off his shoulders, like Harvard was just another far off problem for another far off day, and like he mattered. And he didn't want that feeling to go away. 

"Yeah," Louis finally replied, biting back a smile. "Yeah, I guess you're right." And even as the familiar alarm bells were ringing in his head, warning him of some danger he couldn't comprehend, Louis didn’t bother questioning it. Just once, he wanted to allow himself to have this. Whatever this was. 

The answering smile on Harry's face made something flutter in Louis' chest and sent a bolt of lightning down his spine. He couldn't tell whether that smile or the fireflies dancing around them shined brighter as dusk descended on the lake. "It's settled then," Harry asserted with mock authoritativeness. "One super amazing, incredibly fun, totally unforgettable, Harvard-free summer coming right up."

"Wow, you talk quite a big game," Louis giggled in reply, enjoying the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. 

He watched as Harry's eyes roamed his face, from his eyes to his nose to his lips, then back to his eyes again. "I think I'm up for the challenge," Harry mumbled, and Louis couldn't tell whether or not the slight breathlessness in voice was real or imagined. Either way, he liked it, and wondered if Harry could see him blushing in the dark. 

The night around them had grown still, and the breeze carried faint notes of music and laughter down to the water's edge, a gentle reminder of the party still going on in the Great Room. While Louis really had no desire to go back inside and was rather enjoying his time with Harry, he knew that if he didn't check in soon, his mother's overprotective tendencies would kick in and she'd send out a search party or something equally embarrassing. With a brief glance over his shoulder, Louis released a reluctant sigh. "You ready to head back?"

"No," Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "But I suppose we should. I'll introduce you to my sister, Gemma." Rising gracefully to his feet, pant legs still rolled up, Harry held out his hand to Louis with a soft smile and waited.

Louis peered up at Harry from where he was still seated, suddenly reminded of Aladdin inviting Jasmine onto his magic carpet for the first time. Do you trust me?  He giggled to himself at the thought as he took Harry's hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "I'd like that," he responded. "I'll introduce you to my sisters too."

And as they walked along the dock in quiet conversation about their families and their favorite things to do on the lake, Louis couldn't help the tickle in his stomach when he noticed that Harry was still holding his hand.  

~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Louis woke up to a grumbling stomach and the smell of bacon and coffee calling to him from the kitchen. Whipping a quick hand through his sleep-mussed hair and pulling on a pair of clean joggers, he started sluggishly making his way to the bedroom door with a yawn before a sudden thought stopped him dead in his tracks: Harry was coming over. He'd almost forgotten. With a little jolt of excitement, Louis bounded to the bathroom mirror to take in his appearance. Smoothing his hands over his slightly wrinkled band tee, he took his bottom lip between his teeth and tilted his head to the side. Certainly not the most attractive look he'd ever managed, but he didn't want to look like he was trying too hard either. Fluffing his fringe with his fingertips, he thought to himself that maybe he could get away with the cute, sleep soft look. He grabbed his toothbrush from the counter and ran it under the tap as he took another glance at himself in the mirror and hummed a happy tune. Admittedly, it had been a while since he'd been this giddy about seeing a boy, and a giant smile spread across his face at that realization. He was giddy.

For as much as Louis wanted to bask in the nervous excitement of his new crush, he also felt the small tug of dread that came with uncertainty and inexperience. Here he was fluffing and feathering, when he wasn't even sure if Harry was into guys at all. Although the special attention Harry seemed to be giving Louis suggested that he might be, Louis had been wrong before. Swallowing down a surge of doubt, he decided that either way, he could certainly use a friend and maybe shouldn't overthink the details. After a quick rinse with mouthwash and another glance at his reflection, he started to make his way down to the kitchen, a little peppier than usual. 

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Louis found Harry and Anne already perched at the breakfast counter with his sisters, while his mom flitted about the place. Harry's eyes met Louis' almost as soon as he entered the room, and he flashed him a boyish smile with dimples on full display.

"Louis darling, there you are!" his mother piped enthusiastically. "I was wondering when you were planning on joining the land of the living!"

Louis scrunched up his face, looking at the clock on the wall. "Mum, it's only 9am..." he grumbled.

"I know! You've practically slept the day away. And we've got guests!" His mother continued busying herself fixing Louis' plate, while Harry bit back a poorly concealed grin and silent chuckle. Louis shot him a playful glare while making his way over to the stool next to his. 

"Morning, Harry. Good morning Anne," Louis offered in greeting. "Good morning mum, good morning dad, good morning lovely sisters of mine," he added quickly with an exaggerated smile, preempting another admonishment from his mother who was already piling a mountain of eggs and bacon in front of him. He was met with a chorus of cheerful "good mornings" and a bundle of warm smiles in response.   

"Morning, dear," His mother gave him a quick peck on the forehead as she swung by his corner of the counter with a pan of fresh cinnamon rolls. "You have  got  to try one of these," she sang, plopping a roll onto his plate. "Harry made them, and they are absolutely to  die  for."

Louis turned to Harry raising his eyebrows in surprise. "You made these?”

As Harry puffed a bit with pride, Louis swore he saw him blushing. "Yeah. It's no big deal. I just didn't want to come over empty-handed." 

"Pish posh, Harry's just being modest," Anne chimed in. Leaning in conspiratorially, she continued, "He jumps at any opportunity to show off his culinary skills. He used to be a baker, you know."

"Mum..." Harry scolded his mother lightly, rolling his eyes. "Didn't you say you guys have some plans for the day? Shouldn't you be getting to them? Don't want to be late."

Louis and Anne exchanged snickers at Harry's uncharacteristic bout of shyness, before Anne rose from her stool. "Jay and I and the girls actually do have a shopping excursion planned for the day, so lucky for you, we'll be out of your hair...my little baker extraordinaire." Anne ruffled Harry's hair before pulling him in for a quick peck to the forehead. His grumpy expression was completely endearing and Louis was unable to hide his dopey grin. 

As Louis' mother and sisters prepared to head out with Anne, Harry stayed seated at the breakfast counter with Louis while he finished up his food. Louis' father had already headed out with Des to go fishing, so when his mother shouted, "Have a good day boys!" and the door slammed behind them, Louis and Harry were suddenly alone.

Swallowing down the last bite of his breakfast, Louis turned to Harry next to him and smiled, "Mum was right." Then doing the best over the top impression of his own mother he could muster, he barely held it together as he laughed, "These cinnamon rolls are to  diiiee  for!" 

Harry tried his best to level Louis with a surly glare, but less than two seconds in, he'd melted into a mess of uncontrollable chuckles and dimples that made it difficult for Louis not to stare. He couldn't believe Harry was sitting in his kitchen. "Shut up," Harry snorted with a crinkly-eyed smile, "I grew up playing with Gemma's Easy-Bake Oven. So the whole baking thing was...inevitable."

"Hey, I think it's awesome that you bake," Louis answered genuinely. "After all, what's more right than doing what makes you happy?" He watched the light behind Harry's eyes brighten with the realization that Louis was quoting his own words from the night before. "And all joking aside these cinnamon rolls are delicious. Feel free to bake for me anytime. You won't catch me complaining." Louis rose from his stool to go rinse his plate in the sink.

"I'll bake for you..." Harry watched Louis make his way around the kitchen for a few moments before he finally finished his thought. "But you have to promise to play something for me. On the piano." 

Louis spun around from where he was standing in front of the sink and folded his arms across his chest as he leaned back against the counter with a glint of humor in his eyes. "For another pan of those rolls, I'll compose and play you your very own concerto. With one hand tied behind my back." 

Harry bit his lip with silent laughter. He was looking at Louis with something akin to wonder. "I really don't doubt that you could."

Louis ducked his head at the familiar feeling of his cheeks going warm. "So like...what's your favorite song?" 

"Mmm," Harry thought for a moment. "Once Upon A December."

"The song from Anastasia?" Louis scrunched his face in slight confusion. "Really?"

"Yeah, I think so," Harry answered, clearly unfazed by Louis' questioning expression. "I listen to a ton of music. 80s, 90s, rock, pop, classical, rap, pretty much everything. But that song...I don't know. I've always loved it." 

"Oh," Louis smiled softly, "that's really nice. I like that song too. I watched the movie a ton growing up because it was Lottie's favorite. Kind of makes me a bit nostalgic thinking about it." 

"Exactly. I think that's what it is," Harry beamed, scratching at his shoulder. "Nostalgia. That song reminds me of another time, ya know? Growing up with Gemma, all the good times and adventures we had, back when we didn't have a care in the world. It makes me think of the times when I felt most safe and protected and... it reminds me of how things feel when you have dreams. Yeah, it's dreamlike. Like how it is before reality kicks in." Harry's smile turned small and wistful. "And no matter how many years pass or how much things might change, I like to be reminded of that feeling. Because, there's really nothing better than a moment in time where you feel like anything is possible."

As Louis stood there there listening to the sharp edges and smooth lilts of Harry's melodic voice, he felt as though he was being wrapped in a warm hug, cuddled close by the comforting sentiment of Harry's words. He knew the feeling Harry was describing all too well, though it was now only a distant memory from what felt like another life. "I think I know what you mean," is all he replied as he flashed Harry another quick smile before turning back to the sink. After a few moments, he looked to Harry over his shoulder. "So. How about we get out of here, yeah?" 

Harry cleared his throat, giving Louis a head-to-toe once over, then teasing, "Are you planning on going out in your pajamas? Personally I think they look great on you, but others might stare." 

A sudden explosion of self-consciousness bloomed in Louis' stomach as he was suddenly painfully aware of the the thin layer of fabric clinging to his ass. Quickly spinning around to face Harry, he almost fainted at the sinful smirk situated on the other boy's lips as he openly ogled. Oh boy. If Harry wasn't into guys, he might want to try not looking at Louis like he was a cold drink of water in the middle of the desert. "Uh-ummm," Louis stuttered nervously, "let me...I'm gonna go change, I'll be right back." 

So Louis left Harry downstairs as he washed up and dressed in pair of his best shorts and a tank top at lightning speed. When he came back down, Harry had finished cleaning the kitchen and was already waiting by the door looking like the personification of sunshine. Just a few days ago, Louis was utterly incapable of feeling as excited and hopeful as he did while taking in the smile on Harry's face. All Harry said to him before they ventured out into the warm morning air was, "C'mon, I want to take you somewhere." And despite the alarm bells and the little voice in his head asking him why he was trusting this virtual stranger to take him anywhere, Louis followed without hesitation.  

~~~~~~~~     

"Are you coming back in or what?" Harry shouted up at Louis from where he was floating below, spraying water out of his mouth like a happy whale. Louis smiled and held his breath before leaping back into the water for what had to be the billionth time that day. What began as a simple morning hike along Corden's Creek had turned into an epic competition that saw Louis and Harry attempting to show off their nonexistent diving skills from the top of a small waterfall. The spot was relatively tucked away from the main resort, and besides the rush of the water and exuberant shouts of laughter from the two boys, all was quiet and peaceful. 

As Louis reemerged from below the water's surface, he flicked his wet fringe out of his eyes and taunted, "Once again, Styles, I win and you lose! Haven't you had enough embarrassment for one day?"

"You really call that belly flop a dive? The judges say you should stick to the piano!" Harry giggled as he splashed Louis's face with water and quickly swam away from the imminent retaliation.  Louis didn't bother chasing after Harry, who was already climbing a large cluster of rocks back up to the top of the waterfall. He watched as the muscles of Harry's broad back and shoulders flexed with every move he made, not allowing a single detail to escape his attention. 

On their way to the creek that morning, Louis had learned that Harry was awarded a scholarship to play football his first year at Brunel and was a star newcomer on their top men's team. Now, watching the adeptness and grace with which Harry easily scaled the wall of rocks, Louis was getting to see his natural athleticism firsthand—and it was was totally enrapturing. Louis had encountered plenty of attractive boys growing up, but he was quite certain that he'd never before met anyone as gorgeous and fit as Harry. He'd also never met a guy who was so comfortably and unapologetically himself.

Most of the people Louis went to school with were rather snobbish, always trying so hard to show off their perfect lives or academic records, their perfect families and mansions, perfect personalities, perfect cars, perfect relationships—anything to mask all the things about themselves that might be perceived as uncool or lowbrow or flawed.

But Harry was the exact opposite. During their time together, he seemed completely at home regaling Louis with hilarious stories about his most embarrassing moments as a clueless first-year student, including the time he woke up in the middle of Campus Green after a particularly wild flat party with no wallet, no phone, and dressed in nothing but an over-sized Union Jack afghan. He openly shared about how scared he was to live away from his parents for the first time and how many times he forced his roommates to watch Anastasia with him to get through a few particularly bad bouts of homesickness. He shamelessly cracked terrible, cheesy jokes just to see the way Louis fought and failed to hide a reluctant grin each time. He unabashedly gushed about how his sister Gemma was his favorite person in the world and would probably go on to rule it one day. And when they reached the waterfall and decided to jump in, he'd pulled off his shirt without hesitation before looking down and declaring, "Oh. I have four nipples by the way." 

Louis was amazed by Harry's beautiful imperfection, and it made him feel a little less uncomfortable about his own. He was initially a bit self-conscious, afraid that Harry might start to find him boring or annoying. Maybe Harry would think his tummy looked weird once he took his shirt off. But it didn't take Louis long to forget all of those worries as he and Harry splashed the day away with no concern for the passing time and no plans to slow down anytime soon. They laughed and joked around with the natural ease and familiarity of two friends who'd know each other for years, and all the while, Harry never showed signs of wanting to be anywhere else. And Louis was sure that he didn't want to be anywhere else either. 

After a few more swan dives down the waterfall that resulted in no conclusive winner, Louis and Harry's trash talking slowly came to a standstill as they kicked back on a soft, mossy patch of ground at the creek's edge. Lying side by side with soggy, outstretched limbs, they took a minute to catch their breath as they came down from the natural high of just being with each other.

Louis turned his head to look at Harry, who was looking up at the sky with a small smile on his face, familiar dimple on display. He knew that Harry was aware that he was staring, but he didn't care. Just seeing Harry sprawled out, loose limbed and exuding youthful happiness was a freeing sensation for Louis that he didn't understand, but couldn't get enough of. All day, Harry had captivated him by simply being himself--being so unashamed of who he was that Louis couldn't help but do the same. Harry made him feel like his interests and likes and dislikes were valid. He made him feel like he didn't have to hide who he was. And with his heart thrumming in his ears, Louis decided to act on that feeling. 

"Harry," Louis spoke softly to the boy beside him.

"Yeah?" Harry asked as he slowly rolled over onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at Louis.  

"Remember how I said I wouldn't feel right about pursuing music without my parents' support?" Louis tried his best to keep his voice from quavering as Harry silently invited him to continue with a small, solemn nod. Nervously clearing his throat, Louis kept going. "Well...I think it's because, I really can't bear to let them down again." He swallowed down a sense of dread as he chose his next words carefully. "I came out to my parents...as gay, when I was 15 and it was...I think it was kind of hard for them to accept at first.

“They tried so hard, you know. To maintain a good reputation for our family in the community and with their fancy friends. Our family...we weren't always wealthy. My dad's company took off when my sisters and I were really young, and we kind of became this rags-to-riches story. And right away my parents moved us into the best neighborhood with the best schools.

“But a lot of people still looked down on us because we came from nothing. So when...when it came out that I was gay, it was just one more thing for my parents to be embarrassed about. And you know, they still like, love me and everything and have tried to be accepting. But I can always see the shame in their eyes whenever it comes up and..." Louis released a shaky breath, taking a few seconds to gather himself, "And I guess I just feel like I can make it up to them by following their wishes and going to Harvard to study economics. I've already disappointed them so much...so sometimes I think that if I become the successful businessman instead of the gay musician, maybe it would be worth it because…’cause they'd finally be proud of me."         

Shuddering slightly, Louis' vision went blurry with unshed tears that were equal parts sadness and relief for having finally uttered a truth that he hadn't fully admitted to himself until then. He'd never actually seen a heart break right before his very eyes, but he imagined it must look a lot like the expression on Harry's face in that moment. Several seconds of silence passed with the two of them just looking at each other. Louis held his breath waiting for a reaction, hoping that Harry wouldn't run for the hills.

"Louis..." Harry finally choked with a strained voice. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you were ever made to feel like who you are is a source of shame for the people you love." Louis bit his bottom lip hard, willing himself not to actually cry. He startled a bit when he felt Harry reach for his hand and give it a small squeeze. "I know how hard it is. I understand what a huge step it is to come out to your family. I've been there." Harry paused for a second, searching Louis' face to make sure he understood what he was telling him. He did. "Listen. I can't speak for your parents and their mindset, but what I can tell you is that no matter what, you should never feel like you have to use your future as a bargaining chip to excuse your sexuality. There's nothing wrong with you, Louis." Another pause. "There's nothing wrong with us. And your life is yours to live alone, with no apologies. You're beautiful and smart and funny and talented. Even if you do suck at diving." Louis met Harry's little smirk with a watery chuckle before inhaling and releasing a deep breath. He could physically feel the toxic weight of doubt and shame slowly exiting his body as he kept a firm grip on Harry's hand. He had never felt less broken.

"I know you're supposed to be starting at Harvard in a couple of months," Harry continued, "but it's not too late to change your path. Do what you love, and your parents should love you just the same."

They should, Louis thought to himself. But despite Harry's encouraging words, he still wasn't so sure. For now, he just wanted to allow himself to enjoy the comfort of Harry's presence and the relief of being with someone who had been in his position before—someone who understood this very big part of his identity, and was telling him it was okay. And beautiful. As for the rest of Harry's advice, he decided to file it under the category of nice suggestions he wasn't quite sure what to do with just yet. 

"Thank you, Harry," Louis offered with a small smile. "I really appreciate you saying all that. It...helps a lot." Slipping his hand out of Harry's, he stood up and and dusted off his soggy shorts. "I hope you don't think this means I'm letting you off the hook, though. One more round? Showing you up is just way too satisfying," he added with a cheeky grin, trying to lighten the mood.

Harry was already up on his feet and beaming before Louis had even finished his sentence. "Showing me up? Really? Is that what you think?" By the time Louis realized Harry was hurtling towards him it was too late. "Is that really what you th—!" Louis and Harry burst into an explosion of giggles as Harry wrapped his arms around Louis' middle, swung him around, and tossed him into the creek before doubling over with laughter. As Louis reemerged, splashing around and sputtering in protest, Harry jumped in after him looking smug as ever. "What was that you were saying about showing me up? You should've seen your face!" Louis' attempt to level Harry with a glare only made them both laugh even harder. And just like that, Louis' big reveal about his sexuality, which had minutes ago seemed like a mountain, had suddenly become a molehill. 

"Hey!" Louis shouted to Harry who was swimming back towards the waterfall. 

"Yeah?" Harry called back, turning around to face Louis while continuing to float backwards.

"How did you come out? To your parents."

"Oh," Harry laughed, still making his way through the water. "They walked in on me and my first boyfriend. And well...we did a lot of talking after that." Harry turned back around to swim the last few feet to his destination, completely nonchalant, as if he'd just shared his favorite cupcake recipe. Louis admired that kind of ease and confidence. 

He'd never quite understood before what people meant when they described just "clicking" with someone or "hitting it off." But he was pretty sure that this, whatever it was between he and Harry, was it.   

~~~~~~~~

The Louis that emerged over the following weeks was a happier, gigglier, more carefree, confident Louis—and everyone noticed. Since he'd started spending time with Harry, Louis had picked up on the way his youngest sisters would exchange subtle glances and smirks when they caught him returning to the lake house later than usual with a dopey grin plastered on his face.

"Good day?" they'd ask a little too casually, trying to hide the fact that they'd seen him hugging Harry at the door.

Louis would just chuckle in response and revel in the cheerful shock on his sister's faces when he'd offer, "What do you girls say we watch a movie or something? I'll make popcorn!" It's not that Louis never spent time with his sisters, but his recent run of self-isolation since the start of summer made the gesture particularly surprising to the girls, and to Louis too. He was astonished by how much different it felt being around his family lately, how he no longer found his throat constantly closing up or the walls closing in, and how he didn't get so irritated every time they mentioned uni anymore. 

His mother was taken aback the first morning Louis was up, dressed and ready for the day at sunrise. He joyfully bounded down the steps, quickly grabbing and buttering a piece of toast when he got to the breakfast counter. He was buzzing with all the energy of someone who'd just had six cups of coffee. Louis could feel his mother's eyes following his every move in stunned silence. "What are you doing up so early?" she asked, her voice full of awe. "Most mornings I have to drag you out of bed!" 

Louis laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'd say that's a bit of an exaggeration, mum." Stuffing the last piece of toast into his mouth, he kissed his mother on the forehead, slung his bag over his shoulder, then turned to leave. "Harry and I are going to hike House Mountain today." And as if on cue, Harry showed up at the door, greeting Louis with a warm hug and waving hello to Jay, who was still seated at the counter. All she could do was wave back, her mouth slightly agape as she watched her son take Harry's hand and pull him down the porch steps. 

There were many more such instances where Louis had shocked his family—by joining them in the hot tub one evening, giggling with Lottie and spraying her with the water nozzle as they washed dishes on another; spending a morning on the docks with his father discussing the ins and outs of fishing; or even going with them all on a sunset excursion throughout the district and doting on his youngest sisters the entire way. Louis had carried an inexplicable tightness in his chest for so many years, that now that it was finally gone, he felt like a new person. His parents had concluded that "the fresh air was doing him some good," and he himself tried to chalk it up to the fact that they'd seemed to be  slightly  less obnoxious about Harvard over the past few weeks.

But if he was being completely honest with himself, he knew that the change he was experiencing was a direct result of his time with Harry. Since that first day at Corden's Creek, the two of them had become virtually inseparable, filling their days with a random assortment of activities that ranged from rock climbing and paddle boating, to nonstop conversation on the lake's shore for hours on end. Louis' favorite times were the quiet afternoons spent in the Great Room playing études or sonatas for Harry, who'd lie there comfortably draped over a chair or sprawled across the chaise lounge, watching and listening as if his next breath depended on the sounds Louis was producing from the piano. Sometimes Louis would look over and find Harry's intense green eyes on him, his admiration almost palpable. Other times, he noticed that Harry's eyes were closed as he allowed the music to wash over him. When the piece was over, Harry would slowly open his eyes like he was emerging from a dream and say, "Louis...you're amazing" or "I could listen to you play all day," and the sincerity in his voice sent bolts of lightning shooting down Louis' spine.

Throughout secondary school and sixth form, Louis had earned countless honors for piano and was even deemed a music prodigy by a number of his teachers and instructors. But all of his accolades seemed to pale in comparison to what he felt under the attention of Harry's simple, genuine adoration. And Louis was sure that's what it was. The way Harry looked at him when he performed was nothing short of adoration. It overwhelmed Louis in the best way.

He wasn't sure exactly how it happened—how seeing Harry everyday so quickly became his new normal. But he knew that when he was with Harry, there was no where else he'd rather be and nothing else he'd rather be doing. It was an exciting and frightening feeling. Harry's sense of spontaneity made it impossible to do anything but live in the moment. With him, there was hardly ever a plan or routine or schedule. It was always "What do you want to do today, Lou?" or "I was thinking we could go zip-lining this afternoon. Would you like that?" Louis felt slightly silly for loving it so much, but the truth was he wasn't accustomed to having someone place as much value on his opinions and desires as Harry did. It was utterly intoxicating. Harry gave Louis his full attention whenever he was talking, not because he was simply waiting for Louis to finish, but because he was truly interested in what he had to say. It was always the small things that Louis noticed most—the way Harry would sometimes lean in when Louis started a sentence or gently grab his hand when his voice would trail off, just to let him know he was still listening.

Louis filed every beautiful moment away in his memory to replay at night before falling asleep or while absentmindedly helping his mother in the kitchen. With his every thought consumed by Harry and what adventure they'd share next, Louis didn't have a minute to spare on worrying about Harvard. The only thing that had felt real in those short blissful weeks was the sweet, green-eyed boy right in front of him.    

Even still, Louis' fears about uni were fast replaced with fears about his feelings for Harry. During their time together, they'd become very open with one another about the fact that they were gay, and Louis loved it. He'd never felt more comfortable about who he was than when he was around Harry, who treated his sexuality as a badge of honor rather than a dirty secret.

But having definitive knowledge that Harry liked boys, that he could maybe like Louis in  that  way, that maybe his friendly gestures were a little more than just friendly—it made Louis question everything. What did it mean the night he and Harry had been lying on the docks together and Harry had suddenly reached over to run his fingers through Louis' fringe? What did it mean when Louis would catch Harry staring at him and a furious blush bloomed on his dimpled cheeks? How was Louis supposed to feel when Harry would come sit beside him at the piano and gently cover his small hands with his own larger ones, pretending to play along? How was he supposed to feel when Harry would surprise him with baked goods at the lake house, topped with little notes that read "You're perfect the way you are" or "Still not as sweet as you xx"? How was he meant to react when they were eating lunch on the patio and Harry turned to him and said things like, "I'm so lucky I've met you, Lou"?

As much as Louis wanted to believe that Harry liked him as more than just a friend, he was terrified that he was reading too much into things. He'd been burned before, and he didn't want to put himself in a position to be hurt again. At the same time, he was beginning to feel like it might be worth the risk. 

Harry was 20, handsome, outgoing, and intelligent, and Louis had learned that he had many friends and acquaintances throughout the resort. Whenever they were at the Main Inn or on the trails or playing a private round of footie together, people constantly came up to greet Harry and ask him how his summer was going. Harry would always introduce Louis to everyone they encountered, but it still didn't stop the little flare of jealousy in the pit of his stomach at the way that several guys and girls shamelessly flirted with Harry at every opportunity. The worst part for Louis was knowing that he had absolutely no right to feel jealous over a boy he'd only known for three weeks—a boy that wasn't his. Still worse though, was the fact that his bouts of jealousy forced him to confront the reality that whatever he felt for Harry was a little deeper than he cared to admit. 

The one thing Louis clung to was that while Harry could be giving his time to any number of his other admirers, he was choosing to give it all to Louis. And while Louis still struggled to understand what it was that brought Harry to his doorstep everyday, he knew he wouldn't have it any other way, and he somehow got the feeling that Harry wouldn't either. For now, he decided that he would just hold onto it all for as long as he could, never looking forward farther than the next day and never allowing himself to think about what would happen when Harry inevitably grew tired of his friendship.

The thing was, Louis was starting to grow tired of friendship himself.           

~~~~~~~~ 

On a particularly warm afternoon hiking back from Crown Vista Point, Louis and Harry engaged in lethargic conversation, lazily bumping shoulders as they strolled down the path back to the main resort, sweat soaked t-shirts sticking to their hot skin. The heat was almost unbearable and they were both in desperate need of rest and water. Louis was about to suggest that they stop off on the side of the path to take a short break from walking, when as if in answer to their silent prayers, the sky opened up and released a torrential downpour.

Louis and Harry stood next to each other relieved and giggling with arms outstretched and heads tilted back as they allowed the sweet coolness of the rainwater to wash over their weary bodies. It wasn't until they saw a fierce flash of lightning followed by a terrifyingly loud clap of thunder that Harry grabbed Louis' hand and broke out in a run, both of them laughing breathlessly as they went. "C'mon!" Harry shouted over the loud rush of rain. "My house is close."

Louis allowed himself to be pulled along the trail with mud splashing up onto his clothes with every step. When Harry had  gotten them safely to his family's lake house, they quickly kicked off their dirty shoes on the porch, dropped their bags and dashed inside. Harry's parents and sister had accompanied Louis' family on another day trip, so the two of them had the place to themselves.

Still catching his breath, Harry ran both hands through his soaking wet hair, and Louis felt his heart rate spike watching the way the larger boy's drenched t-shirt clung to his well-sculpted abs and chest as it rose and fell. When Harry looked over suddenly, Louis ducked his head in slight embarrassment hoping Harry hadn't caught him gawking. "That was crazy," he tried, doing his best to keep his tone casual while he frantically avoided staring at Harry's fit body. But it was too late. The image was already seared into his brain.  

"I know," Harry laughed as he wrung out the bottom of his shirt. "Felt good though. We were melting like Popsicles out there." 

Still looking at the floor, Louis struggled to find his words as he fiddled with his shirt sleeve. He knew this was the part where he was supposed to say something in response, but the only thoughts flying through his mind in that moment inconveniently revolved around how every muscle on Harry's body was glistening with sweat and rain, how Harry's long, damp curls were sticking to his gorgeous face, and how there was a strange sensation unfurling in his stomach that at once made him hyper-aware of his surroundings and unable to think clearly. 

When he looked up, Louis found that Harry was suddenly standing only inches away from him, his eyes traveling slowly from Louis' face down to his feet, then back up again. There was a hint of mischief playing on his lips. "You want to take your clothes off?" he asked, his tone quiet and little rougher than usual.

"W-what?" Louis squeaked, finally snapping out of his haze as his heart rabbited in his chest. He was pretty sure he wasn't breathing. 

Harry broke out in a full blown smile at Louis' shock, looking rather pleased with himself if Louis wasn't mistaken. "Your clothes," he chuckled. "Don't you want to change them? I mean, if you're into the whole dirty, shipwrecked, wet t-shirt contest look, I'm certainly not gonna stand in your way. But...I figured you might  want something dry to put on." And Harry was definitely laughing at Louis now. 

"Ha ha ha, very funny," Louis scoffed with an involuntary smirk, folding his arms across his chest with an exaggerated eye roll. "Lead the way, you wanker." So Harry led Louis up to his room where he gave him a towel to dry off with, a pair of small yellow shorts that "might fit," and an old KISS band tee with the words 'HOT N HARD' printed in giant red letters on the back. "Really?" Louis asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry just shrugged and flashed him a boyish, dimply grin in response. 

Louis changed in the bathroom, reveling in the way Harry's clothes swung off his petite frame. He felt warm and safe. Taking in his wild, messy fringe and the way Harry's shirt was slipping off his tanned shoulder, Louis cocked his head to one side and bit his bottom lip as he smiled at himself in the mirror—he felt kind of sexy too. If nothing else was certain, he was positive that he'd never in his life felt more attractive than he did whenever in Harry's presence, the boy's green eyes constantly logging every detail of Louis' body, his natural curiosity always working to parse out the things that made Louis feel happiest or most fulfilled. Now, standing there in Harry's clothes, in Harry's place, with Harry waiting downstairs to do nothing more than spend the afternoon with him and only him, that feeling was amplified tenfold and left Louis slightly short of breath.

Making his way back down to the living room, Louis could see Harry distractedly fiddling with the TV, which was mounted on the wall over a large stone hearth. "Okay so I won't ask you to watch Anastasia again," Harry called over his shoulder as he heard Louis approaching, "but we still have to watch one of the classics. Mulan maybe? Or I'd be down for…"

Harry's voice broke off mid-sentence when he turned around and noticed Louis rounding the bottom few steps onto the landing. Louis froze in place, a bit taken aback by the way Harry had suddenly gone still and quiet, watching him as if he was under hypnosis. Louis followed Harry's eyes as they moved down from his face to linger on where his shoulder was exposed in the over-sized shirt. He could feel himself turn red when Harry's gaze continued its journey further down, sliding across his his curvy tanned legs in the yellow shorts, which were barely visible beneath the hem of the large tee. The way that Harry's breath hitched was practically audible from where Louis was standing across the room. It was usually Louis who ended up flustered and caught off guard, but it seemed that this time around it was Harry who'd apparently been rendered speechless; and Louis loved the momentary reversal in dynamic. 

Bringing his hands down to tug slightly at the bottom of his shirt and twisting his toe into the floor, Louis looked up at Harry through his lashes and breathed, "You're staring, you know." And...was he actually flirting?? He was definitely flirting. 

Harry tried to hide his signature dimpled smirk, ducking his head towards the floor as he scratched at the back of his neck. "It's hard not to when you...look like that," he managed, still very obviously a bit off-balanced. Even so, Harry's knack for expressing exactly what he was thinking didn't falter. "You look really nice... I like you in my clothes." He cleared his throat nervously, still smirking when he finally looked back up at Louis.

I like me in your clothes too, Louis thought to himself before responding, "Thanks." Thanks?? He couldn't believe how bad he was at this. And neither apparently could Harry, who just laughed amusedly, shaking his head and oozing fond. Somehow that made Louis want to fall through the floor a little less. 

"Um so..." Harry chuckled, "what would you care to watch? I've got pretty much anything Disney, Pixar, or Dreamworks, I've got Love Actually, aaaaand. Yeah, I think that's it."

Louis was so endeared by Harry and his love for cute, ridiculous movies, it felt like someone was blowing bubbles in his chest and he might actually float away. Feeling kind of weightless, he drifted over to where Harry was standing by the blu-ray display case to take a closer look at all the options. In his slow, rough, honey-dipped voice, Harry passionately talked Louis through the cinematic merits of each film, from Aladdin to Beauty and the Beast to Up to A Bug’s Life, and all Louis could do was smile with crinkly eyes. He injected an entertained "well yeah, of course" or a "oh yes, definitely a masterpiece" into the discussion every now and then, but for the most part he was content just listening to Harry's excited musings and watching the way his face lit up with each one. Louis had no idea how all of Harry's hard edges and ruggedness came together with all of his boyish charm and youthful enthusiasm in one perfect package; but it was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen in his 18 years. 

Eventually they decided on watching Love Actually, which Louis suspected was the movie Harry was angling for in the end. After popping it in, Harry settled on the couch beside Louis with a little space between them. It was only a few inches, but to Louis it might as well have been miles.

As the minutes passed, they went from actually watching the movie and exchanging a few comments here and there, to outright ignoring the movie while their conversation spiraled in a million different directions without ever hitting a wall. Louis was reminded of all of those cheesy quotes he'd seen on tumblr about how you can tell you really like someone if you never run out of things to talk about. It made his stomach to do a dramatic back flip. And ever so slowly, feeling a pull beyond his control, he started scooching over in his seat to close the distance between him and Harry.

Every few minutes he slid a little over to his left until he could feel Harry's shoulder up against his own. He wasn't exactly sure why he'd needed to be close to Harry or what it was he wanted to accomplish. He just knew it felt right. And almost immediately, Harry took the silent hint and wrapped a sure arm around Louis' shoulders, gently pulling him into his side as he continued speaking.

A bit emboldened, Louis rested his head on Harry's chest, pulling his legs onto the couch and tucking them into his body. Harry gave him a small squeeze and Louis thought he could feel him smile into his hair, his deep, calm voice still rumbling. As he snuggled still closer to Harry's body, making himself as small as possible, Harry planted a few soft kisses to the top of Louis' head, and Louis let him. "You comfortable?" Harry rasped quietly after a few moments.

"Yeah," Louis whispered in reply. And the truth was, he felt more comfortable in that moment than he'd ever thought possible. Comfortable, warm, accepted, and cared for. Sitting there wrapped up in Harry's arms, everything seemed to slow down a bit, and the only indication of the passing time was the calm rise and fall of Harry's chest against his face.

Louis had spent most of the summer avoiding any thoughts of the future, but right now he couldn't help it. Here he had found this wonderful boy, a friend who liked him for who he was, who helped him be a better version of who he was; someone who valued him as a person, who told him he was  beautiful at every opportunity, and knew how to hold him in just the right way—yet he couldn't escape the reality that in a few weeks time he was going to lose all of that. Louis had long come to the terms with the fact that he would have to give up music when he went to uni, but he didn't think he could bear the thought of giving up Harry too. 

"Harry?" Louis breathed, tracing little patterns into the other boy's knee with his index finger. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes," Harry drawled his response above Louis' head, "Of course I'll marry you. Was wondering when you'd pop the question." And Louis didn't have to be looking at him to know that Harry was smiling, dimples on full display. All he could do was laugh.

"Mmm as much as I love the idea of serious, irreversible, lifelong commitment, I think I'd better just figure out the next four years first," Louis sighed, pausing for a beat before continuing. "Um. If you were me, would you go through with the whole Harvard thing? I mean...realistically putting yourself in my situation, what do you think you'd do?" 

Harry remained silent for several seconds, no doubt a little surprised that Louis had voluntarily brought up his least favorite subject. He rubbed his thumb up and down Louis' shoulder soothingly as he finally answered, "I think...I'm not gonna tell you."

Louis lifted his head a bit to look at Harry, eyebrows slightly furrowed in a puzzled expression. "What? Why not?"

"You don't need me to," Harry said simply, pulling Louis in to kiss away the wrinkle in his forehead. "I've already told you your decision about uni needs to be about what will make you happiest, yeah? It's a personal choice that your parents or sisters or guidance counselors or I can't tell you how to make. It should be about what you want." Harry gently placed a finger under Louis' chin to tilt his head up so that he could look him him the eyes. "Did you hear me? It's about what  you  want, alright? And I know you're scared, Lou. I know making big decisions about your future is a scary thing and there's a lot of pressure." He paused, stroking a thumb across Louis' cheek and planting another soft kiss to his head. "But you don't want to spend your life with what ifs, okay? You don't want to have to wake up one day and wish that you'd followed your heart instead of doing what someone told you you should. I know I wouldn’t want that for you.

“And that's why I'm not going to tell you what you should do. Seems like you've got enough of that in your life...and it's time to think about yourself and what you want. It's okay to want things, you know. To really want them for no one other than you. So figure out what you want and go after it. Because you deserve the world." And with that, Harry pulled Louis in for a hug, one arm still wrapped around his shoulders and the other cradling his head to his chest. Louis gratefully wrapped his arms around Harry's middle to hug back, clutching forcefully and holding on to him like a lifeline. He hid his wet eyes in the soft cotton of Harry's shirt and let him rub soothing circles into his back. 

Louis must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he opened his eyes, he was stretched out across the length of the couch covered in a plush throw blanket with his head propped against a small pillow. He sat up slowly, scanning the room for Harry, eventually finding the boy spread out on the carpet right in front of the couch, hands resting on his stomach as he snoozed peacefully. It was getting dark outside and the only illumination in the room came from the soft glow of the tv, which was now playing the Love Actually main menu on a loop. Louis watched the way the light of the screen cast shadows across Harry's gorgeous face, and he felt his heart flutter as he thought about how beautiful Harry was when he was sleeping. He was beautiful all the time, actually, and in every way. So in that moment, peering down at the boy with long locks strewn every which way and cute, pink lips slightly parted, Louis made a decision; and he'd never been more sure of anything in his entire life.   

Sliding off the couch, Louis settled next to Harry on the carpet, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at him. He hesitantly placed a hand on Harry's chest, and gently tried to shake him awake. "Harry," he whispered, "Harry, wake up." Harry made a little snuffling noise as he slowly opened his eyes, and it was all Louis could do not to burst into a million tiny pieces of fond. It suddenly occurred to Louis how weird it must be for Harry to wake up to him hovering mere inches away from his face, but Harry just stared up at him slightly dazed as one side of his mouth pulled up into a soft smile.  

"You know, Lou," Harry rasped in a sleep heavy voice. He covered Louis' hand on his chest with his own. "Some people might consider this a bit creepy." And Louis giggled, eyes crinkling at the edges. 

"Do you?" he asked, still grinning with a slight blush rising to his cheeks. Harry just grinned back, never once taking his eyes off Louis as he silently shook his head in response. 

Louis huffed a small laugh as he ran his fingers through the front of Harry's hair, and Harry briefly shut his eyes before slowly opening them again. "Whatever happens," Louis breathed quietly, hand still playing in Harry's curls, "I think... I think I know what I want now." He could feel his own heart accelerating, threatening to leap out of his throat with excited anticipation.

Harry gave him a questioning look, but before the boy could say anything, Louis was hesitantly pressing his lips against Harry's in the softest, most gentle of kisses. So, so soft . For a few moments, it felt like they were suspended in time. Then Harry's hand came up to cradle the side of Louis' face and pull him in closer. The press of Harry's lips grew firmer and more sure, until finally Louis felt the gentle brush of his tongue. He opened his mouth and gasped a little in surprise as Harry deepened the kiss, wrapping a strong arm around Louis’ waist and pulling him half on top of his body. Louis didn't really know what he was doing, but he followed Harry's lead, letting the older boy's tongue move against his own in slow, languid strokes. He'd never kissed anyone like this before, and he was filled with all of the thrill and adrenaline and fear of diving head first off of a cliff. It was incredible. It was perfect.

It was so perfect in fact, that he didn't hear the front door opening and shutting until it was too late. Slowly lifting his head, lips still slightly puckered, Louis found himself faced with a visibly startled Anne, Des, and Gemma staring down at him and Harry on the floor from where they were standing near the entryway. Following Louis' gaze to the source of the distraction, Harry tilted his head back on the carpet to get a better look and let out a small laugh when he realized his family was home slightly earlier than expected. "Um...hi mum, dad. Gemma," Harry rasped from underneath Louis as his family continued to gape in silence for a few moments. 

Finally Anne broke in. "Ah...well boys, good to see you...we'll um...just give you two some privacy. We were actually just about to go…grab some snacks in the kitchen." She hurriedly pushed Des and Gemma out of the room, Gemma protesting, "But mum, we just ate!" as they went. 

When the boys were finally alone, Louis dropped his forehead to Harry’s shoulder as they burst into hysterics, still tangled up together on the floor. Finding each other’s lips again, they kissed softly between giggles, both too contented to feel the slightest bit embarrassed.

~~~~~~~~

The days following the the storm blurred into a haze of lazy summer mornings, afternoons, and evenings filled with nothing but laughter and stolen kisses—and Louis couldn't remember a time he'd been happier.

He didn't stop Harry when they were out on the trails and Harry pulled him behind a tree to press their lips together in a giggly kiss. He didn't resist when Harry would suddenly intertwine their fingers then lean down to push their foreheads together, moving closer and closer until their lips were touching. He smiled softly and tilted his head to the side when he felt Harry wrap his arms around him from behind and press his lips to the back of his neck while he was playing piano. Louis loved all these moments when Harry seemed to get so overwhelmed with his feelings for Louis that he couldn't resist the urge to reach out, to hug, to touch, to kiss. Ever since the first time, Harry had started kissing Louis as thoroughly and as often as he was able. And Louis reciprocated. While he was still sometimes hesitant to initiate, that was a fear that Harry quickly helped him overcome.

"I want to kiss you," Louis whispered quietly into Harry's neck as they cuddled under the stars in a mess of pillows and blankets one night.  

"Then kiss me," Harry chuckled, giving Louis a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to ask, Lou. I've wanted to kiss you since the first moment I saw you, and I still want to kiss you now. I always do. So kiss me, you fool!" he'd added with a silly, exaggerated accent before pulling Louis in for a slow, leisurely kiss. 

Eventually, Louis graduated to dropping more subtle hints—staring at Harry's lips until Harry finally caught on and leaned in to press their mouths together—to ultimately feeling comfortable enough to kiss Harry whenever he wanted. Which was often. Louis wasn't a virgin, but every kiss and every touch with Harry felt sexier than anything he'd ever experienced in his life. He couldn't get enough. He'd never felt so wanted before, let alone by someone as sweet, charming, and handsome as Harry. It was kind of surreal. 

Louis and Harry hadn't really assigned a specific meaning or label to the added physical component of their relationship. They hadn't really discussed it at all. But like everything else with them, it was just something that came naturally and easily and felt so inexplicably right. And as long as it meant that Louis got to feel Harry's hands and lips on him everyday, he couldn't be bothered to analyze it too deeply. Sure, he was still concerned about what would happen when summer was over and Harry would be in London and he'd be at Harvard, but what he and Harry shared demanded his attention in the here and now. In true Harry fashion, Louis decided that he didn't want to waste the next few weeks worrying about missing Harry down the road when he was still trying to enjoy his company in the present. At this point, Louis trusted Harry more than he'd ever trusted anyone who wasn't his own flesh and blood, so he had to believe that they'd figure everything out when the time came. There was still, however, one thing that Louis didn't understand. 

"Harry," Louis murmured one night as they lay outstretched on the docks side by side. "Why do you like me?"

Harry remained thoughtfully silent for a moment, rubbing his thumb across Louis' knuckles where they were holding hands. "Don't you know?" he asked quietly, turning his head to look at Louis. When Louis only shrugged in response and looked away uncertainly, Harry continued. 

"You're beautiful, Lou. I mean really beautiful. And not...not just the way you look. Hey." Harry tugged Louis' hand gently until he turned around to face him again. "You're kind of shy and quiet, you know. But on the inside, you're full of so much passion and color. I can hear it in your music every time you play. I can see it light up your face whenever you talk about something or someone that you love. I can feel it...when you kiss me. I can tell you don't trust people easily. I mean, you ran away from me when we first met. Multiple times." Louis giggled softly, feeling slightly silly for having almost denied himself the chance to get to know Harry all those weeks ago. "But I love that you let me experience all those things about you, Lou," Harry pressed on with a dimpled smile. "I love that you've shared so many things with me. Cause' the thing is, you're brave. Braver than I think you know, and I wish you could see it the way I do. Once you do, no one and nothing will be able to stop you. You're so, so talented and disciplined, and well...you make me want to be better."

Louis inhaled and exhaled a deep shaky breath, feeling a bit like he was drowning as he choked out the word, "Oh." It was all he could manage at the moment.

Harry squeezed Louis' hand as his eyes went completely soft and serious. "Lou, I know I'm really bad at explaining things. But...remember what I told you about my favorite song? About how it makes me think of home, nostalgia, the best times of my life, and being safe and feeling like anything in the world is possible? Well, that's what being with you does for me. That's how you make me feel. I really want you to understand that."  

And because Louis was utterly overwhelmed by just how much he was beginning to understand that, all he could do was lean over and tangle a hand in Harry's hair as he urgently pulled him into a kiss, licking confidently into Harry's mouth and deepening it with haste. Harry's strong arms immediately wrapped around Louis, bringing their bodies flush against one another as their tongues moved together in perfect rhythm. "Harry," Louis whined against Harry's lips, pulling away breathlessly after a few heated moments and pushing their foreheads together. "I can't...I don't want to lose you. I can't." 

Harry moved a hand to cradle the side of Louis' face, still breathing heavily as he reassured him. "Hey, you don't have to, okay? You won't." And they stayed there in the moonlight wrapped in each other's embrace for hours that night.   

There were a couple of times when Louis and Harry invited their sisters to join them for lunch or hiking around the resort on days when the girls decided to not to accompany their parents on lake district excursions. Lottie and Gemma seemed to hit it off right away, and it warmed Louis' heart to see how well his youngest sisters seemed to have taken to Harry, constantly playing in his hair and asking him all sorts of questions about uni and footie and Louis. "Are you in love with my brother?" one of them had asked sweetly one day while they were all enjoying smoothies together at the Main Inn.

"Ah—" Harry started with amused eyes, his voice seemingly caught in his throat momentarily. He looked across the table at Louis with a soft smile on his lips and a slight blush rising to his cheeks; and everything felt like it was moving in slow motion for a second. Words never actually came out of Harry's mouth, but Louis thought he could see Harry's answer to the question as clear as day. It was small—a brief, inconsequential flicker that went unnoticed by everyone else around them—but Louis had seen it and understood it, and the only thing he could feel was all of the air leaving his lungs. 

"Okay! " Lottie broke in dramatically, clapping her hands together. "Who wants to go paddle boating?" The younger girls squealed excitedly as they immediately hopped up from the table, grabbing Harry's hands and dragging him along behind them as they headed off in the direction of the lake. Harry let himself be pulled, flashing a small smile over his shoulder at Louis as he went. When Lottie and Gemma rose from the table to follow the others, Louis breathed a quick "Thank you," his face still slightly red. Gemma just raised her eyebrows in delight as she continued to sip her smoothie through a hot pink crazy straw. Lottie on the other hand playfully rolled her eyes with a smile and mumbled, "you two are absolutely disgusting," before turning to go.

And Louis supposed they were. This thing between he and Harry was beginning to feel like the stuff of the cheesy rom-coms he'd spent his life making fun of. Boy meets boy. Boys spend every waking minute together, wrapped up in their own summer paradise. Boys quickly and inadvertently fall for each other? Was that what was happening? Was Harry falling for Louis as Louis was falling right back? Louis was hesitant to draw that conclusion with any certainty because it still sounded crazy even bouncing around his own head; but one thing he knew for sure was that his feelings for Harry had somehow evolved from the crush he had a few weeks ago to something much deeper. And the idea that Harry likely felt the same way was terrifying because he couldn't quite work out what that would mean. It was terrifying because he felt like it might change everything. 

One day when he and Harry were out on a canoe ride, the lake rippling softly with Harry's every paddle stroke, Louis broke their comfortable silence. "Harry, I... if you wanted me to stay...I would. I mean. If you wanted me to, I'd give up Harvard and look into opportunities in the UK. I feel like I could do it—I could face my parents. If I knew...you'd be there for me." And Louis wasn't sure why he was telling Harry this. Maybe he secretly hoped Harry would actually ask him not to leave. Or maybe he just needed Harry to know how much he meant to him. Either way he was feeling a bit out of his depth, wild, reckless, and a little desperate. 

Harry just studied Louis quietly for a minute, continuing to paddle the boat along. "Lou. You know I'm going to be there for you no matter what. At least...I hope you know." Louis could see the faint shadow of a dimple as Harry gave him a small half smile. "If you decide not to go to Harvard, don't do it for me, okay? I love that you feel that way about me, and that you trust me so much. And believe me, the feeling's mutual." Harry ducked his head almost shyly for a moment before continuing. "But this goes way beyond me, babe. This is about what you want for your future and who you want to be. And I want to be a part of your future for sure, but I also want you to realize how much you have to offer outside of that. Hell Lou, not only are you graduating at the top of your class, you're also a young Chopin in the making. You can do anything, and I believe in you. So make it about that. Make it about you and know that I'm gonna support you however I can." 

Louis felt his heart expand with just how much he cared for Harry. Carefully, he leaned forward across the canoe, bracing both hands on Harry's knees as he moved in to plant a quick, sweet kiss to Harry's smiling lips. "Promise?" Louis asked quietly into Harry's mouth, lifting a hand to run his fingertips lightly along his jaw. 

"I promise, Lou," Harry replied with earnest, green eyes. "This isn't...we're not just a summer thing anymore. Not to me." And Louis' chest clenched with unbridled happiness and relief as he kneeled between Harry's legs, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing his lips to his ear to whisper, "Me neither."

~~~~~~~~

Louis hadn't been prepared the day they'd been lounging at Harry's lake house and Harry turned to him to ask, "Hey Lou, have you ever been with a boy?" And he'd asked it as casually as if the question had been "Have you ever been to Paris?" or "Have you ever tried calamari?"

In his surprise, Louis almost choked on one of the chocolate chip cookies Harry had baked for him. "Mm...Um," Louis cleared his throat trying to gather himself. He set his cookie down and wiped his hands on his pants, taking a deep breath before venturing, "You mean...like sex?" He could feel his cheeks heating up and knew they must be bright red.  

"Yeah, I mean like sex," Harry replied with a bright chuckle as he ran a finger along his own bottom lip while he watched Louis squirm. 

"Right," Louis threw out, stalling for time. His past sexual experience was not a topic that he liked to think about, let alone talk about. His mind raced, scrambling for something to say. 

Noticing Louis' uncomfortable silence, Harry reached out to place his large hand over Louis' smaller one before speaking gently. "Hey Lou, you don't have to tell me if you don't want, okay? I was just...I don't know. Wondering, I guess. I'm sorry if I made you feel weird."

"No, no..." Louis rushed, briefly squinting his eyes closed. He didn't want Harry to feel like he'd done something wrong, and truthfully, he wanted to tell Harry. He knew by that point that there was no need to feel strange or embarrassed about it. Harry was practically his boyfriend and had certainly been quite open with telling Louis stories about his past sexual excursions, most of which were pretty comical and reflective of his self-deprecating brand of humor. Louis wanted to be open with Harry too. "I...um," Louis continued. "Yeah, I had sex with a guy once. A couple years ago. I...guess he was sort of like my boyfriend at the time? But uh, it was pretty awful." 

Harry stroked the back of Louis' hand with his thumb, watching him intensely. "You don't...you don't have to say more, Lou."

"No, it's okay," Louis replied quickly, sounding out of breath with the nerves that were beginning to creep up on him. But he pressed forward. "Um basically, this guy, my boyfriend, he was the first guy who kind of showed interest in me after I'd realized I was gay and come out and everything. I think... I thought he was pretty sweet at first. He told me that he loved me and...I was struggling with myself and really wanted to believe him. And feel accepted.

“So um, one day at school he told me that if I really loved him back, I'd come to the bathroom with him at lunch and show him. And so..." Louis trailed off, grimacing a bit as he got lost in the memory.

In the corner of his mind, he could hear Harry quietly breath, "Oh, Lou—" but he cut him off, determined to finish what he'd started.

"It was stupid. I was so stupid. But I met him there in the bathroom at lunch and I let him take me. Right there in those dirty, smelly stalls while there were other boys at the sinks. And it really hurt, and I hated it." Louis could feel his eyes prickling as he chuckled ruefully down at his lap. "And the kicker...the worst part was that after that day, my 'boyfriend' never spoke to me again. He got what he wanted and yeah...we might as well have been strangers." 

When Louis looked up, he saw pain and horror etched into Harry's beautiful features and he almost felt like crying. "Louis," Harry breathed as he blinked back clear shock and disgust. "Lou baby, I'm so sorry." Louis thought he heard Harry's voice break on the last word before he quickly moved to wrap Louis up in his arms. He held Louis tightly as if he was trying to hold the broken pieces of the small boy's body together. Louis buried his face in Harry's warm neck, allowing himself to be comforted. "That wasn't right, it shouldn't have been like that," Harry rushed almost frantically as he pressed a firm kiss to Louis' temple. "That's not...your first time is supposed to be special, with someone special, and that guy...that scumbag, he shouldn't have used you like that. He shouldn't have lied, I'm so so sorry." Louis just fisted his hands in the back of Harry's shirt, pressing a soft kiss to the crook of Harry's neck and letting the older boy sway him back and forth in gentle movements. "You deserved better, Louis. You deserve so much better."

And Harry's words—the words Louis had needed to hear for 2 years—slowly began to heal a wound that had remained open for far too long.  

~~~~~~~~

Summer was coming to an end, and as much as they wished it, there was nothing Louis or Harry could do to stop the passage of time. There were only a couple of days remaining until the summer Farewell Dinner for all the resort guests at the Main Inn and a few weeks until Louis and Harry were both meant to be headed off to uni. They tried not to to talk about it, tried to put off the conversation they needed to have for as long as possible, but they could feel it looming at the back of their minds during every kiss and every embrace and every private moment they shared.

When Louis tried to bring it up while they were watching a movie one night, Harry had just cradled Louis' face gently in his large hands and said, "Hey, no. Listen, we still have a few days left until we have to head home, and then a few more weeks to figure things out before...um. It'll be fine, okay? But right now, just be with me." Harry pressed a kiss to Louis' forehead, and for the moment, that had been enough to give Louis' some temporary peace. But it seemed like there was nothing that could completely quell his sense of dread.

On one of their last days together, Harry spent several hours avoiding Louis. He'd broken off pretty much all of their plans for the day over the phone that morning, with the flimsy excuse that he'd promised his mother he’d take care of a few things at the lake house while she was away with his dad and Gemma. When Louis offered his help, Harry outright refused to let him come over, apologizing profusely and begging Louis not to be mad.

"Mad" didn't even begin to cover what Louis was feeling, but when Harry promised to call him later, all he could do was hang up the phone and bury his face in his hands in frustration. He laid on his bed, pulling his knees up to his chest while he cried for almost an hour. He’d known that this day would come. He’d prepared himself for the possibility that Harry might realize that he didn't like Louis as much as he thought he did. He just didn't expect it to happen before they'd even said goodbye for the summer. 

After a while, Louis peeled himself off the bed and migrated down to the kitchen, where he grabbed a full pint of ice cream before settling on the couch in front of the tv to watch Anastasia. He cried some more, wondering how he could have been stupid enough to think Harry could possibly fall for someone as quiet and boring as he was. It hurt. Eating himself into a sugar coma, Louis dozed on the couch for who knows how long, melted ice cream still cradled in his lap. The loud buzzing of his phone on the coffee table finally startled him awake, and he grabbed it to see Harry's name flashing in big letters on the display. Taking a deep breath, and willing his voice to remain steady, Louis answered the phone with an empty, solemn tone.

"Hello?" he asked, still sounding a bit sleepy.

"Hey, Lou," Harry breathed. When he didn't get a response from Louis, he added, "It's me, Harry."

"I know who it is," Louis replied tightly and with a little bite. At least if he was going to be dumped over the phone, he was going to keep his dignity in the process. 

"Right," Harry cleared his throat nervously. "Well um...I'm sorry that I've been...tied up all day. But I was wondering if you'd like to come over now? I'd really like to see you. Please, Louis."

Louis was still hurt and upset and confused, but something in Harry's voice was so genuine and sincere. It was Harry, the boy who'd spent almost the entire summer doing everything he could to make Louis feel happy and safe. Louis was powerless against how much he was aching to see that boy, even now. "Okay," was all he said as he scrubbed a hand over his face. 

"Thank you," Harry sighed, pure relief coloring his voice. "I'll see you in a bit."

When they hung up, Louis quickly freshened up, fixing his fringe and throwing on a blue and white striped t-shirt and a pair of red shorts. A few minutes later, he was fidgeting on Harry's porch in the night air, waiting for the older boy to come let him in. When Harry swung the door open, he didn't even take a second to greet Louis before wrapping his arms around his shoulders in a tight hug and pressing a kiss to his forehead. With his face buried in Harry's neck, Louis could smell that he was wearing some sort of...cologne?

When Harry pulled back and held Louis by the shoulders, Louis could see that his eyes were tinged with excitement and a kind of nervousness that he couldn't quite put his finger on. "I'm sorry that I ditched you today, Lou. I'm so so sorry, but...I promise I can explain." And before Louis could reply, Harry was grabbing him by the hand and eagerly pulling him into the house, which was filled with a delicious, savory aroma. 

When they reached the dining area, Louis stopped in his tracks, a gasp escaping through his parted lips at the scene before him. A small table was set with two beautiful place settings, one on each side, and at the center sat a little vase filled with miniature red roses. The vase was flanked by two candles, casting a dim glow over the table clothe. In the kitchen, Louis could see a marvelous spread of food warming by the oven. Trying to catch his breath, Louis turned to Harry, who was standing a step behind him watching Louis take everything in. "I hope you're hungry?" Harry asked with a dimpled smirk ghosting on his lips.

Louis just looked back at the table, the food, then back at Harry. "Why didn't you tell me you were doing all this?" Louis breathed, his voice an octave higher than usual. 

"I wanted it to be a surprise?" Harry said, unsure and uncharacteristically vulnerable, waiting on Louis' reaction. And then suddenly it clicked for Louis—Harry had probably spent hours on this. Picking up the food and candles and flowers and preparing the meal. He'd avoided Louis all day so he could get everything ready. "Oh my goodness," Louis chuckled, inhaling a deep breath. "Oh my goodness you adorable idiot," he said, launching himself into Harry and wrapping his arms around his neck. Harry laughed, taking Louis in his arms and lifting him slightly off the ground with the force of his embrace. Louis pulled back a little to press his lips to every part of Harry's face, playfully chastising him between kisses. "You could have just," he kissed Harry on the nose, "told  me you were," then kissed him on the eye, "planning something instead," before finally pecking the corner of his mouth, "of making me sick with worry all day!" He tangled his hand in the back of Harry's hair then tugged him down in a proper kiss on the lips. "I thought..." he started as he pulled back breathlessly.

"What?" Harry asked with concern clouding his eyes. "No, no, no, Lou. I...you thought?...Oh god. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that I made you think that I didn't want you...want us, for even one second. I  am  an idiot. You mean so much to me and I want you, and please don't ever doubt that. The whole surprise thing seemed like a good idea at the time, but in hindsight, not so much."

Louis just gave Harry's shoulder a weak pinch before leaning up to kiss him one last time. Needless to say, all was quickly forgiven as Harry brought the food over to the table and the two boys settled down to enjoy their lovely meal together. Louis of course knew that Harry was an amazing baker, but he was quite impressed with his other culinary skills as well. For dinner, Harry had prepared what he'd described as "chicken stuffed with mozzarella wrapped in parma ham with a side of homemade mash," and Louis was sure it tasted about as delicious as anything he'd find in a five star restaurant.

As they ate, Louis animatedly complimented the food every now and then just to watch the way Harry blushed in the dim candlelight. They talked quietly about anything and everything, the conversation flowing easily as usual. They stole glances at one another over their plates, regularly breaking out in giggles for no reason other than the giddiness they felt from being with one another. At one point, Harry softly placed his hand over Louis' on the table as they continued to chat, gently coaxing Louis to open up about things he was thinking and feeling around whatever it was they happened to be discussing. Louis loved that Harry never seemed bothered by his natural introversion, always patiently encouraging Louis to come out of his shell or step out of his comfort zone at his own pace—never pushing too hard. He loved that Harry understood him like that. Watching the considerate, lovely, curly-haired, kind, beautiful boy across the table from him, the gravity of Louis' feeling for Harry started to rise in his chest until he was practically aching with it. 

When they finished up dinner, Louis helped Harry clear the plates away and clean up the kitchen a bit. He started to turn towards the tv room afterwards, where he assumed he and Harry would be spending the rest of the night cuddled up with a movie, but Harry grabbed his wrist to stop him.

Louis turned to face Harry, and he could see the same nervous excitement in his eyes that he'd seen when Harry first opened the door earlier that evening. "Um..." Harry started, carefully searching for words. "I want to show you something." Slightly confused, Louis raised an eyebrow in playful suspicion, but simply responded, "Okaaay?" before allowing Harry to take his hand and lead him up the stairs. 

Once they reached Harry's room, Harry placed a hand on the small of Louis back, took a deep breath, swung the door open, and guided Louis inside. And for the second time that night, Louis was left completely and utterly speechless. The entire room was glowing with the dim light of votive candles burning softly from where they were arranged on almost every surface—the dresser, the nightstands, and even the windowsills. The space smelled amazing, and the lovely scent was accompanied by quiet music playing from an unknown source. The detail that really caught Louis off guard was the rose petals. Red rose petals were scattered everywhere, on the floor and all over Harry's neatly made bed and extra fluffy pillows. Louis was stunned silent, and he could feel the back of his eyes burning with something. Maybe tears. He felt like his lungs had collapsed and he was unable to speak. After a few moments, he felt Harry come up behind him, grabbing him by the shoulders and pressing his chest into Louis' back as he spoke quietly in his ear. 

"I don't want to scare you," he whispered gently. "But I care about you so much. More than I've ever cared about anyone, and I want to show you that." He soothingly rubbed his hands up and down Louis' shoulders before continuing. "I want to give you everything you should have had the the first time around. Everything you deserved. A quiet room that smells nice. A soft bed with lots of pillows and blankets, so you'll be comfortable and warm. And someone, who would absolutely move mountains for you, Louis. Someone who would do anything to make you understand how beautiful you are, inside and out. I promise I can make you feel good, if you'll let me. Let me show you how much you mean to me." Louis felt a shiver shoot down his spine as Harry pressed a featherlight kiss to the side of his neck. "Our families aren't due back from Settlers Ridge until midday tomorrow. You could stay here with me, and we can wake up together in the morning." Harry paused for several seconds, and Louis breathed heavily, still silent when Harry spun him around in his arms to look him in the eyes. 

"Lou, Listen," Harry urged lightly, taking Louis' face in his hands. "You don't have to agree to this, okay? I don't want to force you to do anything that you don't want to. You can say no, and I promise it won't change anything. It won't change the way we feel about each other. I'll still care for you and I know you'll still care for me, and we'll be just fine." Harry pressed a kiss to Louis' forehead and Louis felt like he might crumble. He couldn't believe what Harry what asking him—what Harry was offering. He couldn't believe how sweet and gentle Harry was being. He couldn't believe that the most thoughtful, wonderful, handsome boy he'd ever met wanted him in this way. And on top of all of that, he couldn't believe his horrible luck. He couldn't believe that he'd somehow won the affection of this beautiful soul, a boy who might as well have walked straight out of his dreams, and that in a few days they'd be forced to go their separate ways. He'd heard Harry's promises to be there for him, to keep in touch even after they went off to school, but Louis didn't want to live with the distance. He didn't want to have to always hear Harry's voice through a phone. He didn't want to have to miss him. He wanted to be in Harry's arms always, close, touching, together. Even now, with this confusing mixture of thoughts swirling through his mind and cutting off the air to his lungs, he just wanted Harry. He could feel Harry's rock hard body pressed against his, could feel the strong hold of his hands, making him feel small and protected. He could feel Harry's warm breath on his face, and for the moment, those were the only things that mattered. Louis was trembling with want and desire, and he was powerless to resist it. He wouldn't even if he could.  

"I want you," Louis choked, as though the words were being ripped from his chest. "I want you like I've never wanted anything." 

Harry's breath audibly hitched in his throat. He held Louis' face, searching his eyes for a few moments like he couldn't believe what Louis had just said and needed to make sure it was actually real—that he wasn't dreaming.

"Please Harry," Louis whispered, placing his hands over the larger boy's. "Make me feel good. I need you. I need this," he added, his voice quavering with just how much he needed. 

And that was all Harry had to hear before he was pressing his lips to Louis' in a quick, urgent kiss. "Yeah, okay," Harry breathed, already starting to walk Louis back towards the bed, their lips still connected. "Yes."

When the back of Louis' legs bumped against the bed, a few rose petals tumbled to the floor around his feet. As Harry continued licking into Louis' mouth, he started to gently lay Louis back on the mattress, never breaking their passionate kiss. Once Louis was flat on his back with his head propped against the pillows, Harry breathlessly pulled back, hovering over the smaller boy's body. He looked down at Louis with something like awe, pushing his fringe off of his forehead to plant a soft kiss there. "You're shaking," Harry whispered inches away from Louis' lips. "Are you scared?"

Louis felt his heart swelling with affection as he nodded his head in response to Harry's question. "Excited too," he added with a tentative smile. 

A soft, dimpled grin spread across Harry's lips. He ran a soothing hand up and down Louis' arm. "You don't have anything to be scared of, okay? It's just me. It's just us, like always. I promise I won't hurt you. And if you get uncomfortable and decide you don't want this anymore, just tell me and we'll stop. Promise you'll tell me," Harry demanded gently with a kiss.

"I promise," Louis replied, visibly relaxing and giving a genuine smile. He wanted this and couldn't imagine it with anyone except the angelic boy above him.

With Louis' assurance, Harry captured his lips in another kiss, this time slower and softer, as if they had all the time in the world. Louis felt Harry's hands begin to roam his body, sliding down his sides and then under the hem of his shirt to flatten a palm on his warm tummy. Louis shivered at the feel of Harry's hand on his bare skin and whined into Harry's mouth a bit, surprising himself. He'd never been turned on like this, pliant and willing for Harry as the older boy slowly undressed him, attaching his lips to every inch of Louis' body that he could reach—his neck, his chest, his tummy, his thighs—everywhere except the one part of his body where Louis wanted him most. It was driving him crazy, and his breathy whines grew louder as he shamelessly moved his hands along the muscled planes of Harry's back, loving the way they rippled beneath his touch.  

When both he and Harry were fully undressed, Harry lovingly opened Louis up with lube-slick fingers, encouraging Louis to relax while whispering little praises and assurances to keep the boy at ease. Harry gently sucked Louis' tip into his mouth as he flexed his fingers in out of his body, Louis moaning loudly at the pleasure that shot up his spine each time Harry brushed his prostate. He was more than ready and he tugged at Harry's hair to pull him up for a heady, sloppy kiss. "Please, Harry, please..." Louis whispered into Harry's lips, lacking the presence of mind to even complete his sentence.

"Shhh, baby, I've got you," was all Harry rasped in response as he planted a kiss to Louis' neck, rolled on a condom, and slicked himself up with lube. Stretching his body back over Louis', Harry nestled between the smaller boy's legs and lined himself up. Louis immediately wrapped his arms around Harry's neck, and for a moment they just stared into each other's eyes, exchanging silent words about how deeply they felt for one another—about how big this was. 

"You're everything I want, Lou," Harry breathed, his voice shaky. "I didn't think it was possible. I didn't come here looking for this. But I'm so glad I found it. I'm glad I found you." Louis saw the raw emotion and sincerity of Harry's words reflected in his green eyes, and it overwhelmed him. "You're everything I want," Harry repeated, "and nothing's gonna change that." 

Louis couldn't articulate what he was feeling in that moment, so instead, he tangled his hands in Harry's hair and pulled him down into a kiss that said everything he wasn't able to. Thank you for caring for me and You save me and I never knew I was capable of feeling about anyone the way I feel about you. Somehow Louis knew that Harry understood. He always did. 

With their lips still connected, Harry began to push into Louis ever so slowly. "You're doing so well, so good for me," Harry murmured into Louis' mouth with every inch. "So good, baby." Louis chased Harry's lips, holding onto him tightly, as he focused on nothing but Harry's words and adjusting to the foreign stretch and burn in his lower body. Once Harry was situated fully inside, he began peppering Louis face with kisses. "Are you okay?" he asked, leaning back slightly to see Louis' eyes. If Louis was honest, he was in a bit of pain, but after several seconds, that pain was gradually tempered by an inexplicable kind of a pleasure. It felt so so good being connected with Harry like this. 

"I'm good," Louis gasped, gulping much needed air into his lungs. His heart was beating rapidly in his ears. "I'm more than good. I'm ready," Louis added, pressing a kiss to Harry's shoulder.

So sucking Louis' bottom lip into his mouth, Harry began slowly pumping into him, gracefully rolling his hips to establish a steady rhythm. And holy shit. Louis was hot all over, reveling in the agonizingly delicious slide of Harry's dick in and out of his body. Harry was certainly well-endowed, and Louis was feeling and appreciating every beautiful inch of him. His inhibitions quickly evaporating into thin air, Louis didn't try to bite back his breathy moans as he lightly dug his fingernails into Harry's back, wondering if they might leave a mark.

With Harry thrusting into him the way he was, with such power and passion and sweetness, Louis no longer felt shy or embarrassed or nervous. He was free, like he was flying, and he was sure he'd never felt more perfect or more whole than he did with Harry inside him. "Jesus, Harry," he nearly screamed as the older boy began picking up his pace, going deeper and deeper and faster and faster, groaning low in the back of his throat. Harry grabbed Louis' left thigh and pulled it to hook around his back, holding it there to get a better angle as he gave Louis more and more of himself. "You're so perfect," Harry was murmuring between thrusts, "so beautiful, Lou, so good. I can't believe....Yeah, that's it." And Louis let the the low rumble of Harry's worship wash over him, his sense of self growing stronger as he lie there, open, vulnerable, and so so unashamed.      

"I love you, Harry," Louis choked out, holding back tears as he held on tightly. He loved Harry more than he could express, and he had to tell him. He had to tell him now because he didn't know the next time they'd be together like this. He didn't know the next time they'd be so close, so connected. He had to to tell him now while he felt so worthy of everything he had in that moment—while he felt so full, of love for himself and for Harry. 

When Harry pulled his head back from where it had been buried in Louis' neck, his eyebrows knit together briefly with what looked like confusion before his entire face just crumpled. Still thrusting into Louis, He looked like he might cry as he croaked, "I love you too, Louis. I love you, I love you." His voice was heavy with tenderness and gratitude and so much love, and Louis had never heard music more beautiful. 

As Harry pounded into him at what was now a relentless pace, Louis could feel himself hurtling toward the edge, his breathy chorus of  ah ah ahs  keeping time with each powerful snap of Harry's hips. "Come on, baby," Harry groaned into his ear, "let go for me, let go." So Louis did, his orgasm ripping through him with the force of a tsunami as he released between his stomach and Harry's. "That's it, so good love," Harry cooed, pushing the fringe off Louis' sweaty forehead and kissing him there as he worked the smaller boy through his orgasm and continued chasing his own. Louis clenched around Harry, whispering, "I love you" in his ear, and that was all it took. Harry's dick pulsed inside Louis as he released hotly into the condom.   

Harry collapsed gently on top of Louis' body, holding him close and peppering him with kisses as they both came down from their high. Aside from the soft music still playing somewhere in the background, the only sound in the room was the quiet panting of the two spent boys and the beating of their tangled hearts. After a few moments, Harry gingerly pulled out of Louis to tie off and get rid of the condom and retrieve a wet flannel to clean up with.

Neither of them spoke, but they exchanged small smiles as they basked in the glow of what they'd just done. The moment was bathed in the perfect, comfortable silence.  Louis watched with rapture as Harry crawled back up the bed and gently wiped his tummy clean with the flannel. He giggled as the damp cloth tickled his skin, and Harry broke into a dimpled grin before leaning in to kiss Louis on the nose. 

When they were both clean, Louis and Harry got under the covers and cuddled into each other, naked, sated, and warm. Lying face to face with their legs tangled, the two boys just stared at one another for several seconds, before Harry finally spoke.

"How was that?" he asked as he lifted a hand to gently stroke Louis' cheek. 

Louis smiled, taking in Harry's blissed out expression and serene eyes. He looked almost other worldly. "It was everything, Harry," Louis replied softly, leaning into Harry's touch. "I loved it."

Harry grinned. "And you love me?" he rasped, shamelessly asking Louis to tell him again what he already knew.

"And I love you," Louis happily confessed once more. He meant it, and he would tell Harry as many times as he needed him to. For the look of pure, unadulterated joy on Harry's face, Louis might as well have told him that he'd just won the lottery. He thought that maybe Harry felt like he had.

"Lou, I love you," Harry whispered, his eyes still bright but tinged with something slightly serious. "I love you whether you're here, or across the ocean, or on your colony on the moon." And at that Louis giggled loudly, pressing his lips to Harry's face as the older boy gave him a squeeze with a playful growl. "We'll figure it out, yeah? We can Skype and I'll come visit you as much as I can. And you can come back to the UK for the the holidays. We could even be old school and send each other letters, if you want. And pictures. And we can spend tons of time together when summer comes back 'round. And—" 

Harry stopped mid-sentence when he noticed that Louis was sniffling wetly into his chest. "And we'll be fine, Lou," he finished quietly. "I promise."

~~~~~~~~

On the night of the Farewell dinner, Louis anxiously paced around his room, nervously fiddling with his hair and biting his fingernails. He picked up the letter sitting on his desk, reading it one more time to calm his nerves. He'd read it so many times over the past few weeks that he could practically recite it from memory. But right now, skimming over it again as it shook in his quavering hand, the words on the page only made him feel nauseous. He dropped the letter back on his desk and placed his palms flat on its surface, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths as he tried to find some balance.

Louis had been tense and uptight all day. He'd even snapped at Harry earlier, refusing his invitation to walk to the dinner together and insisting on just meeting him there. Louis hated himself for it. He hated the hurt that had flashed across Harry's face in that moment, and he hated that he was the one who'd put it there. He needed to get a grip. The dinner had already been in full swing for 20 minutes now, and Louis was still trying to gather the nerve to step outside of the house. His family had long since left him, and he had two unanswered text messages from Harry on his phone: "Where r u? " and "Are you okay? x." He had to go. 

Swallowing back the bile rising to his throat, Louis ventured out into the night air and made the lonely journey to the Main Inn, his heart thumping all the way. Crossing the empty lobby, he could already hear laughter and cheerful voices swirling from the Great Room, and he felt his stomach churn. No one was making him do this, he realized. But he'd made his choice, and it was now or never. He felt like this was his last chance to be heard. To really be seen and heard and understood. So he determinedly pressed his way through the entrance of the room, and tried to quickly make it over to where he saw his parents standing near the bar before he lost his nerve. He bumped into a few mingling dinner guests as he went, offering a courteous "pardon me" or "excuse me" every few steps. Then suddenly, he felt a hand pull lightly on his wrist.

"Louis," Harry breathed, his face clouded with relief and concern. "Why didn't you tell me you were here? Listen, can we talk about—"

"I promise, we'll talk," Louis cut in urgently, gently sliding his wrist out of Harry's grasp. "We'll talk love, just...I need to to do something first, okay? I love you," he added quickly, softening his expression and feeling slightly more at ease from the simple fact of Harry's presence. But he had to stay focused. He reached up and pulled Harry in for a quick, chaste peck to the lips, before turning to go, leaving the confused and frustrated boy in his wake. 

When he made it over to his parents, Louis' mother immediately wrapped him in a warm embrace as his father gave him a strong slap on the back. "Darling!" his mother exclaimed excitedly. "I'm so glad you're here! I need to introduce you to Dr. Watson. He was just telling us how he earned his doctorate at Harvard and still has connections at the university. Small world! I can't believe the summer almost ended without us all getting acquainted."

"Uh," Louis broke in, slightly agitated, "that's great mum and dad, but I have to talk to you guys about some—"

"In a minute, Ig-Lou," his father interrupted, "but right now you've got some networking to do." He leaned into Louis conspiratorially, elbowing him in the side. "I can't overstate the importance of knowing the right people ." 

"Okay, but I really need to say say something. If we could just step aside for a second," Louis pleaded hurriedly, feeling more and more like he might actually hyperventilate. It's not that any of this was coming as a surprise—in fact, Louis was almost counting on his parents brushing him off. But the anticipation of what was coming next made him feel lightheaded and slightly off-balanced.

"Louis darling, this is important!" his mother chirped, as she started nudging him along to meet the famous Dr. Watson. "Whatever else there is, I'm sure it can—"

"No it can't  mum," Louis almost yelled, years of pain and frustration finally coming to a head. "It can't wait. Not another minute, not another goddamn second!" And Louis was shaking now, a few of the guests stopping their conversations to see what the commotion was about. Taking a deep breath and trying to bring himself down from his boiling point, Louis continued slightly quieter, his voice trembling. "Mum, dad, you are going to listen to me. And you are going to listen to me right now ." His mother and father were staring at Louis in horror as if he'd somehow sprouted a second head; but he honestly didn't care anymore. This was his moment, and he was about to send them a message loud and clear. 

With several pairs of eyes still on him, Louis walked over to the cherry wood Steinway grand piano in the corner—the piano that had been his comfort, his own little corner of the universe for all these weeks. The piano that he'd used to tell Harry how much he loved him so many times that summer, even before he consciously knew that's what it was. Taking a seat on the bench, Louis closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He ran his fingers gently along the keys, as he often did, almost as if to ask them, "are you ready?" He knew he was. There was no sheet music in front of him, but he'd committed this one to memory. He'd written it on his heart note by note, and now it was time to let the intricate melodies speak for him where his own voice had failed.

Lining up his fingers along the keys, Louis began to play, lightly plinking out the opening notes of Once Upon a December at a rapid-fire pace, the sound of it falling around him like soft raindrops or fairy dust. It was whimsical and playful and bright, until the main melody rang forward, ushering in something slightly darker and heavier. The juxtaposition of the moods created a complex feeling—like a golden, dazzling light, dimmed by something sad and melancholy—and Louis could sense the remaining activity in the Great Room come to a halt as everyone was pulled in by the music. His music.

He kept his eyes closed as his fingers moved quickly and expertly along the piano keys with almost robotic speed, the notes swelling loudly, pleading and desperate, before receding again with quiet grace. It wasn't long before Louis got lost in his own world, with the music reaching dramatic highs only to tumble quickly to spectacular lows and back up again. It was as if the notes were being pulled up and down the length of an invisible ladder. Louis swayed with them, leaning forward then rearing back, back and forth, like he was mimicking the sound with his body.     

Hear me, he demanded with his fingers. Louis wanted to be heard. He wanted his parents to hear him telling them that this is who he was. He wanted them to understand that he was done apologizing for things he couldn't change, that he was done making concessions, that he was done being ignored. His face twisted with determination and concentration as the previously conflicted melody gave way to a sound that was more sure and more confident, stormy in its urgency and insistence. 

Hear me, Louis pounded heavily on the keys, the notes rumbling through the room as he tried to tell his parents that his life was his alone. He tried to tell them that all he wanted was their love and support to follow his dreams. He tried to tell him that he wasn't afraid of anyone or anything—not anymore. He tried to tell them that he'd found a boy who he loved—a boy who loved him back and believed in him. A boy that helped him appreciate all the things about himself that he used to hate. I want your support too, he was telling his parents as the music began to slow, the notes finding their way to a place of resolution. But if I don't get it, I'll still be okay. Because I love who I am now, and that's all that matters. Then with a final, soft, twinkling flourish of his fingers across the keys, Louis finished the piece, exhaling deeply and feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. He stayed frozen in place for a moment with his hands still hovering over the piano. Around him, the Great Room was so silent, he could hear a pin drop.   

Then suddenly, like a wave crashing down over him, Louis was almost blown out of his seat by loud, uproarious applause from his impromptu audience of a couple hundred dinner guests. A bit dazed, he slowly stood up, breathing heavily as he looked out across the room of people cheering for him and whistling their praises, some of them with tears in their eyes. He knew that he was the cause of all of that feeling and emotion, and for a second, he could swear he was flying. Smiling brightly at everyone around him, Louis fought the urge to cry, because he was sure now—he wanted this feeling for life.

Several people came up to Louis to gush about his performance, eager to shake his hand and pat him on the back. It felt amazing. Really  really  amazing. But all he could focus on were his parents standing off to the side, waiting for the crowd to clear so they could make their way over to him. When they did, Louis didn't have the chance to say anything before his mother was enveloping him in a big, warm hug. "My baby," she cried softly as she swayed him from side to side, "My baby." And when she pulled back, Louis could see that her eyes were damp with recently shed tears. 

Standing on the other side of him, his father wrapped a big arm around his shoulders and squeezed. "I didn't know you could play like that, son," he rumbled, his voice cracking on the last word.

Louis gave his parents a half smile and wiped at his eyes. "Um....yeah. I...piano is my passion. It always has been. You guys just...never really took the time to listen," Louis quavered, his voice soggy but forceful. He saw something like pain and guilt flash across his parents' faces as his mother gently stroked his shoulder. "I love performing more than almost anything in the world," he continued. And for the first time in a long time his parents were listening. Actually listening. "That's why I'm not going to Harvard," he pressed, sounding more firm. He watched for his parents' reaction, noticing a brief flood of panic in his mother's eyes that she determinedly did not allow to make it to her lips. She remained silent. 

"A few weeks ago, I was offered an apprenticeship at Cambridge Theater in London. And I'm going to take it," Louis announced with a hint of pride. "I know it's not...it's not uni. But I'll get in a year of really good experience as a rehearsal pianist and work with some of the greatest musicians in the industry. And while I'm there, I can look at applying to a few conservatories to study music. It's...London is the perfect place for me to be. The Royal College of Music is right there and...I really want this. I'm not...I'm not going to the States." 

His parents studied him for a moment before his mother placed a hand on the side of Louis' face, stroking her thumb across his cheek with a resigned sigh. "You're not going to change your mind about this, are you?" she said as more of a statement rather than an actual question. 

"No," Louis replied simply, shaking his head. 

"Well, Ig-Lou…Louis," his father started, clearing his throat, "I can't say I'm not disappointed. I was looking forward to having a Harvard man in the family, and this uh, this music thing is going to take some getting used to. But what I can say is that you can play the hell out of a piano, and if that's what really makes you happy, I'm not going to keep standing in your way. I love you, son. I just hope you know what you're doing." 

"I do," Louis replied, just has he noticed Harry standing quietly off to the side. He could tell that he'd been crying.

"Louis darling, your father is right," his mother chimed in. "This change of course is...unexpected. But we love you and we want you to be happy, dear. And I'm proud of you for going after your dreams. You blew us away tonight," she breathed, pulling Louis into another hug. When she let him go, she kissed him on the cheek. "Your father and I have a lot to discuss with you later. But right now, I think there's someone else who needs to speak with you." Stepping aside with a small smile, Louis' mother turned to where Harry was standing before before grabbing her husband by the arm and walking away.

When his parents were gone, Louis walked up to Harry, shoulders slumped and slightly weighed down with guilt. "Harry, I'm sorr—" he started to apologize, but he was promptly cut off by Harry's soft lips pressed to his in a heady kiss that would have knocked him clean off his feet had Harry not been holding him upright with strong arms. Louis allowed Harry to lick into his mouth as he went to tangle his hands in the taller boy's hair, their tongues moving together in a way that was utterly intoxicating. The voices, the clatter of dishes, the few pairs of eyes around them watching their unabashed public display of affection, seemed to completely disappear as they became momentarily lost in each other. 

Coming up for air, Harry peered down at Louis, pressing their foreheads together as he breathlessly asked, "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"A couple times," Louis giggled into Harry's mouth, leaning up to give him another peck.

Harry laughed, his dimples on full display. Louis loved his dimples. "I can't believe..." Harry started, still catching his breath, "I’ve never heard that song sound so beautiful, you were amazing...you did that for me?"

Louis bit his bottom lip between his teeth as he thought through his reply. "The choice of song was for you, yeah," he chuckled. "But...my decision to stay in London is for me." And apparently Harry hadn't caught that part of Louis' conversation with his parents when he walked over because the look on his face was one of complete shock and stupefaction. Louis wasn't even sure the boy was breathing. 

Harry's eyes bulged dramatically as he finally choked, "You—WHAT?" so loudly that he startled some of the other guests around them. Looking around in slight embarrassment, Harry leaned into Louis and lowered his voice. "You what? When? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise?" Louis teased, before taking a deep breath. "Um…No seriously, I wasn't really sure what I was going to do until recently. Like...this morning. I was offered a music apprenticeship in London right after I first got here. And I didn't tell anyone because at the time I thought it didn't matter. I thought that maybe if I didn't acknowledge receiving the letter, it would hurt less when I had to turn down the opportunity. All those weeks ago, it felt like Harvard was my only option. Until I met you.... and you changed everything for me. You helped me see things differently and see myself differently. It took all summer, but you finally helped me find the courage to decide what I want for myself and stand by it. And the funny thing is," Louis laughed almost wistfully, "The funny thing is I wasted the first couple of weeks here avoiding you. And I can admit now that I was only running, because from day one I think I knew I was gonna love you. I think from that very first day I knew that you were someone I wouldn't want to let go of, and that scared me. I ran so I wouldn't ever have to say goodbye. And now it looks like I won't have to." 

Harry's eyes were brimming with tears by the time Louis was finished, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to hold it together and find his voice. It was rare for Louis to be so unguarded, and it appeared that he'd knocked the air right out of Harry's lungs. "Fuck Lou," Harry breathed, pressing a kiss to Louis' cheek. "I didn't know...I didn't know I could be this happy. It hurts," he choked, his voice thick with tears. He hugged Louis' head to his chest. "I'm so so proud of you. I knew you could do it. I knew you could, and I love you so much. And...you're gonna stay. We're gonna be so close," Harry chuckled wetly.

"Thirty-five minutes across town to be exact," Louis clarified, pressing a kiss beneath Harry's jaw. "I Googled it. We'll be able to see each other as much as we want....if you still want." And Louis couldn't believe that after everything, this self-doubt was still niggling at him. But he'd work on it.

"God Lou, of course I want," Harry sighed, planting a kiss to Louis' lips. "I want to be with you. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. I want to meet you on campus everyday, I want to come to your shows at the theater—“

“I want to be in the stands at your footie matches with big, embarrassing banners,” Louis laughed.

“I want you to meet all my stupid friends and to introduce me to yours,” Harry chuckled back. “I want to spend lazy evenings at your flat eating Chinese food and watching bad movies.”

“I want sex with you.”

“Yes, lots of sex. Birthday sex—“

“And anniversary sex!”

“Supportive boyfriend sex...”

“Just because sex,” Louis giggled breathlessly as Harry pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to his neck.

“Just because sex,” Harry repeated, moving to kiss Louis on the nose. “And I want to cook for you, like a ton. I want to go to parties together and maybe a few concerts. I want date nights in the West End. I want to make you so happy that you never doubt for a single second how beautiful you are.” Running his fingers along Louis’ jaw, Harry gazed at him with adoration and sincerity. “Yes, I want, Louis. I want it all with you," he finished softly, eyes sparkling with the possibilities. "I love you."

"I love you too," Louis whispered into Harry's neck as he hugged him tightly. "So, so much. You mean the world to me."

And in their own little world with a population of two, Louis and Harry held on to each other in the middle of the Great Room, refusing to let go as they swayed gently to nothing more than the music of their matching heartbeats.