𝓔𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓘 𝓣𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓦𝓪𝔂 | 𝐿𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑦

ɪɪ

They didn't talk about the kiss, didn't ask what it meant for them or if it was a mistake, but they didn't stop kissing. It was added into their routine, like the coffee that Louis had brewing each morning when Harry came to the kitchen door and the cows that Harry milked in the morning and that Louis milked at night. Only now the coffee came with a kiss in the doorway and now Louis kept him company during the morning milking, teasingly critiquing his grip and offering tips.

Harry didn't know what it meant to Louis but to him it meant the world.

He'd kissed one man before Louis, a classmate who had gotten too drunk at an end-of-semester party and had been celebrating a good grade on a particularly arduous exam. After a round of shots that left him pink-cheeked and giggling the man had scooped Harry into his arms and planted a loud smacking kiss against his lips. The crowd around them had laughed joyously, raising their drinks in the air in a toast, and the man released him. Attention was quickly turned to the girl who'd fallen over on the dance floor and Harry was left with tingling lips and a racing mind. He'd walked home that night in a daze, returning to his dorm and laying awake for hours. His skin prickled with the memory of the man's stubble, his muscles aching with the ghost of his embrace. He'd biten his lip raw, wondering why a quick peck from a classmate he'd never spoken to had felt like more of a kiss than any of the ones he'd shared with the girls he had gone with.

Harry had avoided parties after that.

He knew that he shouldn't want Louis the way that he did. He wasn't supposed to stare at Louis' mouth until his own filled with spit and he wasn't supposed to stare at Louis' hands in his brown leather work gloves until sweat was prickling under his arms and down his spine. He wasn't supposed to want Louis, just the way that he wasn't supposed to want the soft flimsy things locked in the old wooden trunk. That didn't change the way his stomach swooped when he thought about either of them though.

---

"A few of the cows are pregnant, you know," Louis told him one day while they were fixing the door of the barn where one of the cows had knocked it crooked.

"Oh?" Harry asked, holding out another screw when Louis motioned for it. It never really felt like winter in California but it was getting colder and colder and Harry was eager to get back inside.

"Yeah," Louis nodded, frowning at the door hinge he was working on. "It's not long until calving season. You could help, if you want. If you're still here, I mean."

"I don't know anything about cow births," Harry told him and Louis' frown deepened. "I could learn though."

A tentative smile broke across Louis' face and his eyes locked with Harry's.

"I could teach you," he offered.

"Alright," Harry nodded, ducking his head to hide his own smile. "Yeah."

To celebrate the mended door Louis pushed him back against it and kissed him breathless.

---

Harry had always loved playing dress up. When they were children he and Gemma had a big box of costumes and old clothes that they loved to play with. Harry loved letting Gemma button him up in her old dresses and pin barrettes into his hair. It was fun being draped in capes and twirling in long skirts, but as soon as he started school his parents got rid of the box and all of the beautiful things inside. They insisted that he'd outgrown them and so he was left with his starched little shirts and scratchy wool pants.

He had nearly forgotten about that old box of clothes but the trunk in his little shed brought the memories back. The old woman who had lived in the house was apparently the kind who liked to collect things and rarely threw anything away. It was lucky for Harry who delighted in her hoards of nick-knacks and jewelry and old, faded clothes. Every day he went out and helped Louis around the farm, the two of them tugging each other in by the straps of their dungarees to steal kisses as they passed in the barn, and every night after dinner he lit two oil lamps in his room and delved into the trunks. He didn't know if the old woman they belonged to had died or if she'd simply moved away but he hoped she didn't mind him borrowing her things.