Wild and Unruly

Chapter 5

"What... now?" Louis's breath was coming in ragged bursts, his whole body still vibrating from his ride on the four wheeler. Rain lashed at him as he dropped to his knees and placed his hand on Jolene's warm flank. It was hard as a rock, mid-contraction. "She's... can we move her to the barn?"

His last words were swallowed up in a deafening thunderclap, lightning splitting across the sky. Like the pop of a flashbulb, it illuminated the scene for a moment. The laboring heifer, the swollen creek. The two men kneeling at her side in a halo of suspended raindrops. Then the world was once again engulfed in gloom, and all Louis could hear was the sound of Harry's horse spooking.

"Shit."

It galloped off into darkness with a jerky stride. Harry stood up, his lean body throwing shadows on the sodden grass. Louis saw him in the unsteady circle cast by his Maglite, his wrist already shaking with the weight of it. Jolene was groaning beside him. His hand slipped off her wet flank as she struggled to stand, knees almost buckling. She swayed back and forth on the gentle slope of the hill.

"Harry!" cried Louis. He was terrified she was going to topple and roll head over hooves into the creek. He tried to wrap his arms around her, steady her, but she was so big. So big and heavy, and he was so small, his wellies slipping in the mud as he tried to brace himself. Visions of the Dodge Caravan came back to him, rocking, the sheer power of the cattle on either side practically lifting it off the ground. "Harry!"

Harry had made an aborted, almost instinctive move to go after his fleeing horse, but he shook his head and turned around. "She's... that's normal, Louis. Let her go. Don't want to disturb her."

Louis stepped away gingerly, keeping his hands up as he backed off. "I don't know what I'm doing!" he shouted. She swayed again, and his heart lurched. "What if she falls over?"

Harry lifted his Stetson and ran a wet, dirty hand through his hair. "She won't," he said. His features were drawn, face somehow dark and pale at the same time. "She knows her own body. She'll probably lie down on her own again before long. We'll -- damn it."

Jolene had started to walk slowly down the hill toward the creek. Louis could see the whites of her eyes, rolling in pain.

"Louis!" Harry barked. "Get me the rope from the ATV." His voice was rough, commanding.

Louis didn't think, just bounded over to the four wheeler and dug around in the storage compartment. There was a rope inside, the blanket Niall had given him, a chain, a pair of gloves and some bottled water, Harry's fence stretcher, and a few other odds and ends. None of it looked very helpful. Louis grabbed the rope and slammed the compartment shut, running back to Harry. He was standing with a now stationary Jolene, his big, sure hands stroking behind her ears as he murmured to her.

"I know you want to go see the crick, darling. But it's not a safe place right now. Come with me. Come back with me." Harry was able to get her to take a few steps toward Louis before she sank down to her knees again. Louis could actually see the contraction hitting her, all the muscles in her belly seizing up.

"Oh, God." Harry looked even more worried, now. Louis recognized the fear in his eyes as he took the rope and started fastening a slip knot. "Those were pretty close together. I thought we had a couple hours to get the trailer up here, get her brought down to the barn..."

Louis almost felt like crying as he watched Harry apologetically slip the simple halter around Jolene's neck and secure it loosely to a nearby fence post. "Heifers usually take longer to get going," he muttered. He gazed at her grimly for a moment, then raised his voice. "I'm gonna report to Niall. Tell him to wake up the vet and get her out here to us as soon as he can. But if they don't come in time, you're going to have to help me deliver the calves."

Louis stiffened, his eyes wide, hands jittery with adrenaline. "I'll do anything you tell me," he said. "Anything." He felt his chest swell with fear and an almost painful desire to do well, to be helpful, as he gazed at Harry through the dark, slanting rain.

Harry nodded and unclipped the walkie-talkie from his belt, bringing it out from under his slicker. It crackled to life in his hands. "Niall!" he growled. "Get on." He chewed his bottom lip while he waited, intense stare focused on the speaker as if, with enough concentration and sheer will, he could force Niall to answer him. "Niall," he said again. "Niall..."

Louis retraced his steps, glancing back at Harry every so often as he swept the beam of his Maglite over the grass. He found the place where he'd dropped the vet kit and picked it up. Niall's flat voice was just coming in when he returned. "Kinda got our hands full down here -- the heifers are..." He cut out for a moment. Louis and Harry glanced at each other in panic. "Ya find Jolene?"

Harry let out a breath -- a short, wary burst of relief. "Yeah," he said. "She was down by the crick. But Niall --" There was an eruption of static, and Louis winced. "She's calving. Drop what you're doing and call the vet and get up here. Her contractions are..." Then there was an odd, high pitched whine, and the walkie-talkie died in Harry's hand. Louis felt his heart sink as he stared at it.

Harry swore fervently. He fiddled with it for a few moments, scratching open the back casing to roll the batteries, but it was no use.

"Maybe he heard you," Louis said. "He -- he might have heard you!"

Tears were pricking his eyes as he watched Harry calmly tuck the useless walkie-talkie back under his slicker. Jolene was having another contraction, her whole body wracked with it and low, pained noises coming from deep in her throat. Harry just stared at him for a moment, one of those forceful, raking stares that made Louis feel as though he were being evaluated, his heart taken stock of.

"It's too late anyway, I think," said Harry. "Could you... think you could ride back on the four wheeler? Let them know, at least."

"Yeah, of course!" Louis felt a wave of relief wash over him. Everything was going to be all right after all. All he had to do was drive back to the ranch. "I'll go get Niall, we'll come back with the vet..." He spun on his heel and marched off toward the ATV, digging in his pocket for the keys.

He hopped on, fingers slipping over the slick metal as he fumbled the right key into the ignition. He turned it confidently, and felt the engine rev. Once. Before the headlights died and the blinking gas indicator went out. Louis felt a sudden, wrenching tug of hopelessness as he stared at the dead dash. Of course this would happen, he thought, letting out a single, pained laugh. Of course. Obviously. "Harry!" he called.

He ran back up the hill to Harry and Jolene, a knot of panic starting to form in his gut. "It won't start," he said, shaking his head, gobsmacked by the absurdity of it all. "The engine... I--I think it's out of gas, maybe."

Harry stood stock still. "Fuck," he said, softly.

We can't panic, Louis thought, trying to be firm with himself. We can figure this out.

He stood up straighter, sniffing as he rubbed the rain and tears out of his eyes with the heel of his hand. He had the beginnings of a headache; his contacts were starting to itch, but he barely noticed. His whole being was focused on the problem at hand. "What do we do?" he asked.

"Get me the kit, please," Harry said. "I'm going to check how far she's dilated."

Harry sounded calm all of a sudden, as though the new clarity of the situation had focused him. But Louis could see the tension in the line of his shoulders as he knelt down by Jolene, the twitch in his jaw. He was nervous. Of course, he was nervous.

Louis's hands shook as he opened the kit for Harry and tried to shield its contents from the rain. He held his Maglite on it, standing and clamping it between his thighs when Harry handed him a big gallon jug of something to open. Lightning flickered above them, followed by the violent sound of thunder. Louis managed to twist off the jug's cap and break the seal underneath without dropping the flashlight on Harry's head. Fuck, he thought. How are we doing to do this? This is... I can barely --

His thoughts were disjointed as he knelt down again and made to give the jug to Harry. He had gloves on now, dark beads of rain clinging to the latex as Louis swept the beam of light over his hands.

"No," Harry shook his head. He held out his gloved hands. "You've got to..."

Louis blinked. He glanced down at the label on the jug for the first time. Priority Care 1 All-Purpose Non-Spermicidal Lubricating Jelly. For animal use only. Apply liberally as needed.

A ridiculous, inappropriate laugh burst out of him at the absurdity of it all. He upended the jug and squeezed slightly, watching as Harry coated his fingers in the thick, cloudy jelly. "Didn't think this was how I was gonna lube you up for the first time, Styles," Louis murmured. His chest felt tight, like he was going to start crying again at any moment as he thought about Harry. Through the haze of his heightened emotions, their shared panic over Jolene, Louis thought he knew... and Harry did, too. They knew each other's hearts.

He felt Harry stiffen beside him, then relax with a fragile chuckle. He flashed Louis a look as he went to work, pushing both his hands into Jolene with a practiced air. "No?" he asked, his voice almost cracking. "No cow vaginas in that scenario?"

Louis laughed gently. "Definitely not. Plus," he added, scooting up to Harry and muttering in his ear, "unless I'm mistaken, this isn't your preferred brand."

Harry flushed, biting his lip as he got his bearings and began to examine Jolene. "Louis," he warned. "Enough. I have to concentrate." Louis nodded and got out of his way, pleased that at least Harry looked a bit more relaxed in his movements. There was less tension under the surface, and the panicky edge to his voice had evened out.

More lightning flashed overhead, followed by booming thunder and a fresh burst of rain. Louis unbuttoned his own slicker and tried to hold it over Harry, Maglite in one hand. Harry was up almost to his elbows now. He was doing something rhythmic with his arms.

"She's almost complete," Harry explained, brow furrowed again. "I'm manually dilating her. The faster this goes, the safer it is for both calves."

Louis held the light steady and positioned himself so that his back was taking the brunt of the rain. Finally Harry slipped his hands out. His gloves were coated in lube and streaks of blood. Louis fought the urge to gag a bit -- there was worse coming, he knew. He forced himself to breathe slowly and evenly, ignoring the heavy, painful thumping of his heart.

"I could feel her bag of waters," Harry said, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment as he gazed at Jolene, then down at his hands. "It's bulging out over the lip of her cervix; it's probably going to break with the next contraction."

Louis shifted his weight from one leg to the other, rolling his ankles and feeling the ache in his muscles as he tried to get some of the tension out of his body. He was starting to feel chill from the rain, since he'd unbuttoned his slicker. "So..." he started, suddenly unsure. He felt a tiny shiver wrack his body. "Talk me through what happens, like what's... Do we just let nature take its course, or?"

Harry pivoted and squatted to one side of Jolene's rear, motioning for Louis to give her some space as well. "After her water breaks, I'll try to feel for the front hooves of the calf," he said. "They should be right there. I'll make sure its head is forward, and if everything feels good I'll have you hold the light and we'll just gently ease it out. She'll push during the contractions and do most of the work. That's a --" he coughed into his sleeve, "a best case scenario."

Jolene lowed and snorted, as if to agree. Louis ran a hand lightly over her back, feeling her rough, wet hair and the comforting warmth of her body under the cold rain. He wondered if she was scared... wondered if she had any idea what was happening to her. "It's gonna be okay," he gulped, petting her softly as they waited for the next contraction. "It'll all be fine and -- and you'll get to see your babies soon. Then Niall will be here with the doctor, and we'll take you somewhere... Somewhere nice, warm and dry..."

Harry glanced up at him then, and Louis felt doubt pool in his stomach. "Louis," he said, his voice careful. "You know... twin births are high-risk even with a vet, and in good conditions with all the right equipment."

Louis bit his lip and hung his head, hands threading through Jolene's shaggy hair over and over, brushing it back. "What are you saying?" he asked, quietly.

"Well..." Harry started. He trailed off, shoulders slumping as he drew a long, steadying breath.

"Just tell me," Louis snapped. He stepped away from Jolene. He didn't like the dawning feeling that Harry had been protecting him, sugar-coating the situation a little. "How bad is it, Styles?"

Harry looked up at him, stricken, and Louis's annoyance melted away into a cold, hard lump of fear.

"It's -- it's bad," Harry stammered. "Sorry, I --"

Louis just shook his head, blinking rapidly as he stared at the laboring cow.

"If the vet doesn't get here in time, we might be able to save two of them."

"Two?" Louis asked.

Harry nodded. "Of the... of the three of them. Unless we have very good luck."

Louis gasped lowly, almost slipping as he walked back to Jolene's head and knelt down to pet her gently behind her ears. The wretched, pain-wracked expression on her face was unmistakable and universal, and Louis didn't think he was projecting too much of the dull fear he thought he saw in her eyes. He'd been so focused on the two calves, hadn't even considered they could lose Jolene.

"We'll have very good luck then," he said.

"Louis..." Harry sighed, letting his voice die as he shook his head.

Louis stubbornly locked eyes with Jolene, trying to conjure up some strength within himself, acutely aware of the smallness of his body next to her sturdy bulk. Maybe he could transfer his strength to her, somehow. He dug his fingers deeper into her hair and let out a breathy sound that was almost a sob, but not quite. "No matter what happens," he whispered, "you are already a wonderful mother."

It was a tense minute or so more before her water broke, gushing out of her with a particularly strong contraction and soaking into the already drenched earth. Harry quickly slipped a hand back in, feeling for the hooves of the first calf. He added his other hand, up to his elbows and blinking once or twice in concentration. Louis tore his gaze away from Jolene, anxiously trying to read Harry's expression in the dark.

"Well?"

"I feel 'em," said Harry, nodding. "Both hooves. Head is forward; it's in the right position."

Louis felt something in his chest loosen, and he took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. He gave Jolene one last, loving stroke before he left her head and crawled back around to Harry. He held up the flashlight, eyebrows raised.

"Thanks," Harry said. "It'll still be a while. This is the really hard part, coming up..."

Louis just nodded.

They didn't talk much after that, too intent on watching Jolene. Her contractions were strong and coordinated -- Louis noticed Harry glancing down at his wristwatch, trying to wipe rainwater off the face of it with his slightly bloody gloves as he timed them. Jolene shuddered, straining to push her first calf out of the birth canal, and Louis felt his heart seize up as he watched her. Progress was slow, and Harry spent the long wait changing his gloves and disinfecting Jolene's sensitive, swollen vagina. Louis tried not to ask a million questions every time he slipped a hand in to check on the calf, but Harry's satisfied nods told him what he needed to know.

Minutes stretched into an hour. An hour and a half, and still no Niall. It occurred to Louis that even if Niall had managed to read the tone of Harry's voice before the walkie-talkie had burst into static and died, even if he'd gotten a handle on the chaotic situation down at the barn and sent out a search party for them, they'd have no idea where to look. There'd be no vet and no equipment. Louis stopped looking over his shoulder, stopped peering into the gloom hoping to see the lights of a truck or a figure on a horse. Help wasn't coming.

At one point, after seeing Harry sway a little on his knees as another wave of pink-tinged fluid gushed out of Jolene, Louis propped his flashlight up on a rock and stalked back to the four wheeler. He dug around for the bottled water and uncapped it on his way back, holding it up to Harry's lips. "Here, Harry," he said, quietly. Harry tipped his head up, revealing the beautiful line of his jaw, and drank gratefully, spluttering and shaking his head after he'd gulped down three-fourths of the bottle. He blinked.

"Thanks," he whispered.

Louis nodded and sucked down the rest of it, feeling hot and cold all over. His heart was in his throat, blocking the water as he tried to swallow.

"Lou," Harry said, one gloved hand inside Jolene. "It's about time." Louis's breath caught when he took his hand away. Two tiny hooves were finally peeking out, shiny with amniotic fluid.

"Oh my god," Louis breathed.

Jolene gave a low moo. She pushed when her next contraction hit, muscles rippling across her flank. Louis trained the flashlight on her, holding it steady for Harry, who was coating the opening with more lubricant. The little hooves surged forward, then back in, but Louis could tell a small bit of progress had been made. He couldn't look away.

Another contraction, and he held his breath. Harry knelt down and gently gripped the calf's legs, tugging with practiced skill. They were adorably splayed now, peeking out further. Like whoever was in there was reaching out for the world. A few more inches, and Harry rocked back on his heels.

"Just keep the light on me," he said.

Louis nodded, even though Harry couldn't see him, the rest of his body frozen as he watched. Jolene shifted her weight, almost bucking on the ground with the pain as she started to push again. Harry grunted, putting some muscle into his pull, trying to move with her. The two legs slid out further, smoothly, to reveal a tiny, perfect nose. Louis made a sound that was halfway between a gasp and a coo, the beam of his Maglite wavering.

"It's a... it's a calf!" he said. "I mean, it's really --"

Harry barked out a sharp laugh, reaching forward to gingerly touch the baby's protruding muzzle. "Yep," he said, smiling. "It's a calf, all right."

"Don't know what I was expecting," Louis muttered, sheepish and a little surprised at himself, twisting the toe of one of his wellies into the mud. Of course it was a calf. But there was something... something about finally seeing it that cemented it in reality. They were going to have a baby. Louis felt tears burst behind his eyelids again. "Oh my god," he said. "Oh my god."

Harry rocked back again, pulling, digging the heels of his cowboy boots into the ground and flexing his thighs just a touch to bring more pressure to bear. Nothing seemed to happen. Jolene stopped pushing, the muscles in her sides not rippling, but rising and falling gently with her breath.

"Hmm," Harry said. He looked up at Louis, his green eyes blinking into the light as the rain fell steadily. Long curls were plastered to his forehead and his neck, slicker open at the throat to reveal a soaked flannel collar. "Louis, 'm gonna need more lube."

"You're doing so great, Jolene," Louis whispered. He propped his flashlight on the ground, beam wobbling as he left it to find the gallon jug. They'd already used almost half of it. He was careful not to spill any this time as he coaxed it out onto Harry's gloved fingers. Still had one calf to go.

Harry turned to Jolene, pressing both hands inside around the calf's head and massaging. Easing it forward not with hard tugs, but with small tucks and slides. After he was satisfied with the positioning of the head, he took the calf's legs in hand again, just above the hooves. Louis's heart was in his throat, his eyes trained on the tiny nose that showed no sign of life yet. And Harry pulled.

He pulled, Jolene groaning low with the push. The calf came slowly, but it came. Louis gasped, almost dropping the flashlight as its head and shoulders slid out. The calf was beautiful, auburn like Jolene but mottled with bright splashes of white. Another big movement, Harry pulling with a soft sound of effort, and the calf slid out to its belly. Louis's stomach dropped. The head looked dead. It looked -- it was hanging flaccidly between the two legs now, tongue out and lolling.

"Is it okay?" he cried, throat choked and panicked. "Is it okay?" He glanced up and saw Jolene craning her neck to see.

"Normal," Harry said, too taxed to say more than that one word. Louis breathed again, heart jerking and leaping in his chest as he did his job and kept the flashlight trained on them. He could almost feel Harry's muscles working, knew his back must be acting up from the way he twinged and resettled himself before the next contraction.

When it came, Louis could hear Harry's breath punch out of him as he gave one final tug. The calf's hind legs slid out onto the wet grass, its whole body flopping oddly. For a long moment nothing happened. Louis felt his legs go numb as he watched the prone figure in the wavering beam of his flashlight. He took a cautious step forward.

Then it stirred. Harry glanced over his shoulder, flashing him a big smile. "Live calf," he said.

Louis sighed in relief. The little thing was struggling to stand up already, blinking and making soft snorting noises in the rain. Jolene was looking back at it with keen interest, and Louis held the light on it so that she could see.

"Oh my god," he said. "Oh my god, oh my -- Harry." Louis's voice cracked as he watched Harry help the calf take its first steps, tottering around Jolene's big body, both of them almost slipping in the wet earth. He'd never felt religious before, not ever. Not while sitting between his parents on the hard pews in the little white Lutheran church in Long Prairie, not while touring Olympia and Delphi, not while listening to the deep, doubtless words of Romanian Orthodox chants. But it's like... his mind groped for words as he saw Jolene nuzzling her newborn, calmly licking away the traces of amniotic fluid that hadn't been washed off by the rain. This is a miracle. It's a miracle; that's what it is. Louis felt a shiver prickle him all over, and then he locked eyes with Harry.

His eyes were wet, luminous and full of emotion, and Louis's heart broke open when he saw the soft smile Harry had on his face. It overwhelmed him. He took a shuddering breath, leaning forward so that he could see the calf. Harry stripped a glove off and held his hand out, inviting him. Louis took it, almost dropping the flashlight, and squeezed. He let Harry steady him as he stepped over to them, sniffling a little -- Harry squeezed back, the feel of their hands together electrifying and so perfect. Louis looked up and saw the relief on Harry's features, fragile and tired, like he was also on the verge of crying. Saw it in his nose.

"What are you going to name, um... him?" Louis whispered.

"Her," Harry gently corrected.

Louis laced their fingers together and squeezed Harry's hand again. So many thoughts and emotions were whirling through his head, and Harry's hand felt like a lightning rod. Easing some of them. Lighting him up. I can't believe it, Louis thought. He watched the calf make her way down Jolene's body to her udder, navigating mostly by smell. Her eyes were wide and startled, but determined. She found a teat and began to suck insistently at it. I just can't... Life was so beautiful in that moment, Louis couldn't form words.

Harry slipped his hand out of Louis's and began to unbutton his fleece-lined slicker, shrugging it off his broad shoulders. He carefully placed it on the calf's back, easing her front legs through the sleeves and rolling them up. Snapping up the front under her belly as she went on suckling.

"'S important to keep 'em warm," Harry muttered. Louis could almost feel the weight of his emotion; Harry wasn't disguising it with his gruff voice. He stood up, running a hand through his wet hair. "Louis," he said.

Louis looked up at him, the rainwater tracing paths on his face. He nodded. Harry just smiled, his flannel shirt already soaked through even though the storm was beginning to move off.

"Very good luck," Louis said.

Harry's smile quavered as it stretched wider, and then he turned away. Jolene was starting to have contractions again, even as the first calf was nursing. "Louis, we've got to... gloves..."

Louis followed him to the vet kit, holding the light for him. After Harry was gloved and lubed, he pushed a hand in to feel for the second calf. He immediately frowned.

"Shit," he muttered, slipping the other hand in and looking off into the distance, blinking, as he double-checked.

"What?" Louis asked, panic spiking in his chest. "What is it?"

"I feel hooves," said Harry, "but no head."

Louis leapt forward, peering at the place where Harry's arms were buried in Jolene as if he would be able to see something. "What does that mean?" he asked, sharply.

A line appeared between Harry's brows as he frowned, his face pale in the light rain. "If they're the front hooves," he said, "then the head is back, and the calf will be born dead. Nothing we can do. If they're --"

"What?" Louis interjected, accidentally flashing the light in Harry's face as his heart constricted with fear. Harry grimaced and squinched his eyes shut, pulling his hands out. "What? But --"

"If they're the hind hooves," Harry continued, voice rising but still gritty, like he was fighting not to lose it. "Then the calf'll be born backwards, and it'll still have a chance."

"Only a chance?" Louis asked.

Harry took a deep breath, pushing it out through his mouth. "Yeah," he said. "A chance. When the calf is backwards, it... A lot of the time it starts trying to breathe too soon, when it's still inside. And it inhales fluid and, um. It can drown."

"Oh," Louis said. He felt like he was going to choke, all of a sudden.

"We just have to wait," Harry said, shaking his head as he hunkered down. "We just have to wait and see."

Louis felt brittle, like a frozen soap bubble of a person as he walked around to Jolene's head again. He could still see her contractions, but she didn't seem to be pushing as hard. Her eyes were tired. Louis's throat was dry, and he didn't know what to say to her as he knelt down. He swallowed, and it felt scratchy.

Push, he thought. Come on.

She'd give a feeble moo now and again, over the course of the next few hours, every time her body seized up. Louis glanced up at Harry, who was standing at her rear and seemed to be boring a hole into her with his eyes. Each time he slipped a hand in, Louis waited expectantly. But Harry would just shake his head, shift his weight, and chew on his lip.

The rain had let up, at least. There was a high wind coming down from the mountain. The healthy little calf finally finished sucking and curled up in the lee of Jolene's big body to sleep in the rain slicker. Louis brought over the wool blanket from the ATV, throwing it over both the cow and the calf for more warmth. Jolene was almost asleep, too. She was barely doing anything to help her second calf along.

One more contraction, and Harry's hands were back inside, feeling.

"There's been a little progress," he said, doubtfully. "I think... I definitely feel a tail."

Louis let out a sigh, tension rushing right back in behind it. "Then there's a chance," he said. "Right?"

"It's just been in the birth canal for so long," Harry frowned. "I... Hold on. Just let me..."

Louis watched the next few contractions with bated breath, early morning air freezing his lungs. Harry was using his whole body to pull the calf, exerting much more force than he had with the first one, and it was hard going. Eventually, two hind legs were peeking out. They looked stiffer than the first calf's front legs had looked, standing out at slightly odd angles.

Harry sat down in the mud as he leaned back, shivering and taking a few deep breaths. Louis could tell that he was both cold and sweating. Steam was beginning to rise from Jolene's rear, the first signs of dawn beginning to soften the sky. Had they been out here that long? Louis almost shook himself, blinking his tired eyes. The whole night. He was cold, still damp, and various muscles were beginning to complain.

"I can't --" Harry's voice cut through the silence. "I need a calf jack. Or they're both gonna..."

Louis felt like his heart was being held down at the corners and it was twisting, wrenching itself to get free. He took a step forward. "There's more rope in the ATV," he said. "Maybe I could help pull."

Harry turned his green, tear-brightened eyes up to him just as the first bird of the morning started to sing. "Yeah," he said, weakly. "I guess that's the only thing to try."

He pushed himself wearily to his feet. His jeans were spattered with blood and wet earth, his beautiful hair slicked to the side, unruly curls tangled around his neck. Louis watched him trudge to the ATV as Jolene started another contraction. Louis glanced at her, but her head was down. She wasn't pushing.

"You can't just give up," Louis whispered in a fit of frustration. But fresh tears were pricking his eyes. He knew how exhausted she must be, what an ordeal she'd already been through. The first calf was still peacefully sleeping at her side, completely unaware of any danger. He turned away from them, rubbing at his nose. He felt like he was on a slowly sinking ship.

"Louis!"

He blinked, whipping his head around. Harry was standing at the back of the ATV. His eyes were wide, wind-chapped lips parted. "Louis!" he called again. He was waving the fence stretcher.

Louis was so spent, he couldn't do anything but shrug his shoulders up in a silent question. Why's he so excited about that? Jolene isn't a broken fence...

Harry slammed the lid of the storage compartment and came running over, the short chain clanking around his elbow and more rope in his other hand. "Louis, quick! Hurry, hurry, put the parking brake on and clip the chain to the stretcher."

Louis gathered his bleary thoughts. Harry's sudden energy was infectious, and he obviously had some sort of plan in mind. "What are we --?" he asked, gathering the chain and glancing over his shoulder as he jogged to the ATV.

"Gonna use the fence stretcher as an emergency calf jack," Harry said. He was looping the rope around the calf's ankles with quick, efficient movements. "It's dangerous," he added, body stilling as he concentrated, "'cause the stretcher can exert too much pressure, sometimes. But it's our only choice. That calf is not gonna come any other way."

Louis nodded, excitement beginning to zip through his heart as he used the chain to anchor the fence stretcher to the ATV. Harry tossed him the end of the rope and he quickly threaded it through, thanking fate and the universe that he already knew how the little device worked.

It's got to, he thought, his fingers shaking as he made sure everything was ready. It's got to work.

When Harry was finished, he turned back to Louis with a determined glint in his eye. "I'm going to be doing this," he said, pointing at the stretcher, "and you're gonna guide the calf out."

"I --" Louis's voice cracked, his mouth dropping open.

"I know you don't know what you're doing. Just try to make sure things keep moving." Harry nodded toward the vet kit, where the box of gloves was peeking out. "You'll get a feel for it as you go."

Louis nodded and shakily put on a pair of gloves, coating his hands in the last of the lubricant as he stationed himself by the calf.

"And tell me when the contractions start and stop!" Harry said. He had his hand on the ratchet. The rope that was secured around the calf's ankles came down at an angle, threaded through the stretcher where fencing wire would normally go. When Harry cranked the ratchet mechanism, the stretcher would pull on the rope with more force than he'd be able to exert pulling by hand.

They didn't have long to wait. Even though Jolene wasn't doing much active pushing anymore, her body was still experiencing strong contractions every few minutes.

"Here's one!" Louis said. He felt Harry lean down on the ratchet, the rope going taut around the calf's ankles. His breath was caught in his throat. "Keep pushing," he whispered to Jolene. "Come on. You can do it. Just this last little bit." The calf made some progress, even though Louis could tell Harry was being conservative about the amount of torque he was applying.

Louis gingerly slipped his hands in with the next contraction, trying to massage the calf through. It was an odd sensation, but he didn't dwell on it -- not when the hind legs were coming smoothly, the calf's rear end presenting itself unceremoniously to Harry's delighted whoop of celebration. A bit more fluid gushed out around it, and Louis could see the ragged edges of the amniotic sac still clinging to the calf, trailing down its legs. The physical realities of birth didn't faze him anymore.

"Let's try for next one," Harry said, giving them both a chance to breathe when the calf's stomach was through. "Just guide its shoulders through and its head'll come."

Louis nodded, drawing himself up from the bottom of his wellies. He could do that. His knees were burning from how he was squatting, his back aching from bending at an odd angle, but it was almost over now. The calf was going to come. They were going to do it. He watched for a moment as Harry searched the wet ground for something.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Just -- ah, good." Harry plucked a thin, straight stick out of the grass and held it up. "Hope I won't need this," he said. Louis was puzzled, but before he could ask any questions, it was time.

"Go!" he cried, and saw Harry ratchet up the tension. He could feel the calf's shoulders, coming straight and easy. Louis almost laughed at how simple it was, the last contraction, Jolene finally pitching in again to push her little calf's head out of her body. It slid smoothly out onto the grass.

"We did it!" Louis cried. "It's here! Harry -- "

But his voice died when he looked down at the new baby. It wasn't breathing. He knew the other calf had taken a few moments to begin its life, but those few moments had already come and gone. And this calf wasn't breathing. Wasn't moving at all.

Louis slipped, and almost fell out of the way as Harry came to kneel over it. "'S what I thought might happen," he said, grimly. "Started breathing too early, aspirated amniotic fluid." Louis could see his fingers working, clearing the calf's nostrils and mouth of goop. He watched, riveted, as Harry bent over and closed his mouth around the calf's little muzzle, sucking out what his fingers couldn't reach, clearing the way for the cool morning air.

"Come on," he whispered, leaning back on his heels to give the calf some room. "Breathe, baby."

Louis felt like his own heart had stopped beating, suddenly too aware of his own shaky breaths. Second after second ticked away, and nothing. Nothing. It's been too long, he thought, his whole body sinking as his shoulders slumped. It's been too long now. It must not -- it's not going to...

But Harry hadn't given up hope. He pulled the little stick out of his pocket and was bending over again, inserting it into one nostril after the other. Moving it back and forth with quick, sure twists of his wrist.

"What's --?" Louis started asking. Harry answered right away, tense words hopping out of his mouth like he was glad of the distraction.

"Trying to stimulate its sneeze reflex, jump-start breathing. This works, sometimes, if the airway is clear enough and the calf isn't too depressed."

Louis nodded shakily. He felt like his head was swimming, exhausted tears flowing freely as the sun rose behind them. The craggy mountains were gray in the distance. Louis sat by Jolene, stripping off his gloves and running a hand over one of her legs as he waited. And waited.

Then --

A tiny snort. Louis's back stiffened, his hand stilling as he tried to crane his neck around Harry to see. There was a snuffle, and then movement.

"Live calf!" Harry cried. He turned around, eyes red-rimmed and smiling widely, almost laughing in relief. Louis gasped, putting a hand to his mouth when he saw the little calf blinking and lifting its head to look at them. It seemed a bit dazed, but otherwise unaffected, already trying to stand on its wobbly legs. Louis felt his jaw quaver, a sudden, last rush of tears spilling over as he reached out and drew Harry into a fierce hug.

"You did it," he whispered, standing on his tiptoes, fisting Harry's collar as he melted into his arms.

"We did it," Harry said, gently. "I think -- I think..." He let out a deep sigh and pulled Louis in closer. "We're gonna make it."

Louis's heart leapt free, thudding against his sternum and up into his throat as he took a shuddering breath. We're gonna make it. He lifted his chin and met Harry's eyes. They were already on him, infinitely tender, relief and affection shining through them. "I --" he began. Louis was wet and cold, but he felt warm where Harry was touching him, fully aware of how their bodies were pressed together. Every shift of Harry's weight, Louis felt it, and suddenly he was shivering with anticipation.

His eyes flickered to Harry's chapped lips. "I --" he said again, his brain searching for words as he took another deep breath, steeling himself. He felt Harry's fingers tighten around the backs of his arms, their chests molded to each other. "I really want..." His voice trailed off, small and uncertain. He was feeling so many things, so overwhelmed in that moment that he didn't know what to focus on. "I'm really proud of us, Harry," he said, finally. "I'm so proud of you."

Harry's smile grew even wider, and Louis tucked his head into Harry's neck, heart rabbiting as he tried to hide the blush on his face. He felt the soft press of lips on his hair.

"I've got to check on Jolene," Harry whispered. Louis nodded and they broke apart. He laughed when he saw that the second calf had already managed to smell out Jolene's udder, and was calmly sucking next to its sister.

"It's a boy, by the way," Harry said, throwing a lopsided grin over his shoulder as he loped over to the vet kit. Louis laughed again in pure delight and went over the rearrange the wool blanket around the twins. They looked so much alike, splashes of white on auburn, pink noses quivering as they nursed. The second one, the boy, was slightly smaller, his movements a bit weaker than his sister's. But he was on the right track.

"What are you going to call them?" Louis asked. He glanced back at Harry as he reached down to pet Jolene, fluffing up her drying hair. Couldn't look away for long, even at the calves. They were wonderful -- fascinating and new -- but Louis wanted to commit every detail of Harry to memory. The exact way his flannel sleeves were rolled up around his forearms, the stretch of his jeans over his thighs and the way he couldn't help himself either, couldn't stop his eyes from searching out Louis's.

He shrugged, gloves on again as he took care of the afterbirth, cleaning and disinfecting the area as best he could. "Not sure... what do you think?"

"Sally," said Louis, just as Harry said "Paul."

There was a moment of silence before Louis muttered, "Well, great minds obviously think alike." Harry burst out laughing, and that was that. The calves were Sally and Paul.

A couple minutes later, while Harry was still tending to Jolene with the vet kit, Louis heard the sound of a motor. It was Niall and Paul in one of the Fords, cattle trailer hitched to the back. Louis watched as Niall popped open the passenger side door and swung himself out, sprinting up to them.

"Holy shit!" he cried. He bent over, staring at the calves, hands on his knees and breathing heavily. He was in the same dirty clothes he'd been in the night before, with a new welt purpling on his left arm. His face looked haggard. Apparently they weren't the only ones who'd had a rough night. "What happ-- holy shit!" he breathed again, blinking back and forth between Louis and Harry.

Paul joined them after backing the trailer up. He walked over to pat Harry on the back with a sort of paternal air, taking a good look at the calves.

"Paul, meet Paul," Harry said.

"Oh, I see," Paul said, in his gruff, low voice. "You go and name the runt after me."

Harry giggled, his whole face brightening. He looked like a winsome girl of the morning all of a sudden, so endearing, and it made something burst in Louis's heart. Louis could only stare at him as he began to explain what had happened. He was animated, overtired, but burning off his nervous energy -- still tending to Jolene with his hands, and he couldn't help gesturing with his shoulders. Biting his lip, biceps flexing. Louis felt his breath catch.

"... her contractions were already coming every three minutes. Must have been in labor all day. She kept trying to wander off toward the crick, and then my horse spooked... But thank God, Louis was a big help." His grin widened. "My lovely assistant. Hero, really. Couldn't have done it without him."

Louis rolled his eyes, beyond pleased, as Paul came up to shake his hand.

"Good going," he said, clapping him on the back. Louis's cheeks flushed, and he felt the sides of his mouth twitch up involuntarily, his face already aching a little from how much he was smiling.

He shrugged. "First time touching a vagina," he said. "Apparently I'm amazing at it." He felt a flutter in his chest when Harry snickered.

Paul and Niall listened to the rest of the story with rapt attention, Paul asking a few questions here and there as Niall paced, muttering to himself, guilty at not having sent out a search party for them. "I was going to," he said, "obviously. But you said everything was fine before you cut out, and then the heifers didn't want to move, and Germaine slipped in the mud --"

Harry's head jerked up, brows drawn in concern. "What? Is she okay?"

Niall winced, glancing down at his bruised arm. "Sprained one of her hock joints. It was... tough, getting her to the barn. Dr. Christine's here; she's with her now."

"Okay," Harry nodded. "That's good. Jolene should probably get antibiotics, and the calves definitely need to be checked out."

Louis drifted into the background as Niall and Paul helped Harry move Jolene and the calves into the trailer, busying himself by tidying up the vet kit and folding the blanket, collecting used gloves and other bits of detritus in a plastic bag. He packed the chain and the fence stretcher back into the four wheeler, which Paul offered to gas up with the emergency half-gallon tank that Harry kept in his truck and drive back to the house.

Harry and Niall were deep in discussion about Germaine's leg when Louis hopped up to join them in the crowded cab of the truck. He began to tune them out as a wave of happy tiredness washed over him. The adrenaline rush was fading, and he was becoming more aware of the little things -- his itchy contacts were bothering him; his feet hurt, his knees sore from squatting for so long. Harry was going on about hock joint injuries, totally focused as Niall drove, but his body was angled toward Louis. Their legs were pressed together, Harry's right hand splayed so that the tips of his fingers were barely brushing Louis's wrist. He stroked over it a few times, casually, before pressing his thumb into the meat of Louis's thigh. Louis had to bite his lip to keep his smile under control.

He turned to the open window and watched the wild beauty of the ranch rush by, the sounds of the morning drowned out by the engine of the truck. He could smell the fresh air, pleasantly mingling with exhaust. Spring flowers were in bloom, sparse but gorgeous. A pair of birds flirted, flitting by them, colors shifting as the sun rose and dawn matured into day.

Niall and Harry kept up their conversation, Niall filling Harry in on the situation with the rest of the heifers. Louis let their voices wash over him, Harry's touch almost hypnotic on his leg as he let his mind wander. He'll take care of things, and then... Louis repressed a shiver. Harry broke off, laughing in relief as Niall took the final turn into the drive. He tapped Louis on the shoulder and pointed. His runaway horse was back in the paddock, grazing calmly next to the other horses, still wearing its waterlogged saddle.

Louis grinned back at him, and they shared a quiet moment, faces stilling as they just looked at each other, drinking each other in, until Niall parked and turned off the engine. He hopped out of the truck, waiting for Harry to follow.

"Later," Harry whispered, a rush of breath with just a hint of roughness around the edges. He raised his eyebrows and smiled before sliding out after Niall.

Louis felt a burst of electricity prickle over his skin. He was already missing Harry's hand on him. God. Later.

He breathed for a moment, then climbed down from the cab and marched up the front path to the house, wet socks squelching in his wellies. His knees still felt shaky. He glanced back over his shoulder as he opened the screen door. Paul was unlocking the back of the trailer, Niall ready to help move Jolene and the twins into the barn. Harry was greeting a handsome, gray-haired woman who Louis assumed was the vet.

Louis slipped inside the quiet foyer. He took a hot shower, trying not to think too much as he toweled himself off and fell into bed with just a pair of sweatpants on, not even bothering to pull the bedclothes up over his back.

He felt wonderful as he drifted off, relaxed and safe and taken care of. The sounds of Mrs. Burden tidying up out in the hall, doing the laundry and ironing, lulled him. Harry was out in the barn. Looking after babies... The thought carried him into a dream.

*

He woke to a sharp knock on the door.

"Louis!" he heard. It was Mrs. Burden's voice. "Harry sent me to make sure you were awake. Your plane for Denver leaves in an hour!"

Denver?

Louis had forgotten all about Anne's fundraiser. He'd been so completely wrapped up in Jolene and the calves, the way he'd felt, shivering in Harry's arms when it was all over... He hadn't given two thoughts to Denver.

"Yeah," he croaked, blinking and pushing himself up, running a hand through his messy hair. "Yeah, I'll..."

His mind was racing. Louis wanted Harry. He wanted him all to himself, wanted a chance to solidify whatever had grown between them. But now he had to rush around, pack his suitcase and try to remember where he'd put his keys.

Later... he thought to himself. Later.

He smiled, imagining Harry in a tux.

*

Their plane landed southeast of the city in gorgeous weather, and bright spring sunlight was reflecting off the windows of the airport's lone terminal as they crossed the tarmac.

"Fucking weird, isn't it?" Niall asked Louis, shielding his eyes from the glare as he glanced around to draw attention to the fact that there was no one else to look at.

Louis nodded. It was. Surreal, even. Not the type of life experience Louis had ever expected to have, travelling by private jet, and now he'd fallen asleep on a fancy leather couch aboard one.

Hadn't ever expected to help a cow give birth in the pouring rain, either. His mouth twisted into a little smirk at the extremes of the past twenty or so hours, and he instinctively snuck a glance back at Harry while he thought about it all. His heart swelled sharply and skipped a beat at the sight of him, shuffling along behind them with his garment bag thrown over one arm. He was still sleep-mussed from the flight, his aviator sunglasses crooked on his nose and his hair like a mad scientist's. It was adorable.

"What?" Harry asked in a rumble, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Louis shrugged and stopped to wait for him, raising his eyebrows, unable to keep from smiling back. "Nothing," he said, reaching out and tugging at one of the belt loops on Harry's jeans.

"Oh yeah?" Harry took a welcome step into Louis's personal space, his smile now a grin as he looked down at him.

Louis wanted to kiss him so much it felt like his whole body was screaming for it, his skin tingling.

"Oh brother," Niall called out from the door to the terminal, rolling his eyes. "Would you guys get a move on? Our rides are already here!"

They stared at each other for another delicious, lingering beat before breaking into slightly giddy laughter and following after Niall, Harry's hand resting on Louis's lower back.

Later, Louis thought, in time with his fluttering pulse. Later.

Harry had arranged for separate cars to take them into the city. Louis needed to pick up some things at his place -- the suit he'd worn when he'd first gone out to Wyoming wasn't right for this type of event, and he wanted to pack up some of his other clothes so he'd have them when they returned to Sheridan. Plus, he'd promised Zayn they could have a drink together, just the two of them, before heading over to the fundraiser. He couldn't help but feel a little cheated out of precious seconds with Harry, though, all dressed to the nines.

Harry seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he caught Louis's wrist while standing in the open door of the first black Lincoln Town Car and smiled down at him like he had out on the tarmac.

"See you there?" he asked, rubbing gently at Louis's delicate skin and making a warm ball of light grow in Louis's chest.

Louis nodded.

"Save me a dance," Harry said, raising his eyebrows twice in a ridiculous fashion, his eyes twinkling.

It surprised a delighted laugh out of Louis, but also made him go hot and heady with anticipation, a shiver running down his back. God. Just the thought of being pressed close to Harry like that again. Sturdy and strong.

"Okay," he said softly. "I will."

"Good," Harry said, with a single, decisive nod. Then he slipped into the car at Niall's prompting.

Louis watched them pull away before he got into his own car, an incredible buoyancy filling him. He sighed contentedly as the driver took him up through the suburbs, sparse landscape giving way to tree-lined neighborhoods as they passed through Glendale into Cherry Creek, with its big mall and chichi eateries and art galleries. Finally they were on the quiet, almost too-narrow streets of Capitol Hill, driving past slightly run-down bars and secluded playgrounds, and tattooed twentysomethings out walking their dogs. Louis was home.

*

He was still floating when he arrived at Zayn's just over an hour and a half later, freshly showered and dressed in his nicest suit, smiling up at the building as he was buzzed in. Zayn had a condo in Cap Hill a few blocks west of Cheesman Park, within walking distance of Louis's apartment. He had been muttering for a while about buying a house, but Louis suspected he never would unless he met a nice lady and settled down. It was hard to imagine Zayn ever mowing a lawn.

"Louis! How you been, man?" Zayn asked, pulling Louis in and thumping him on back after he opened the door.

They both broke into easy laughter just from the pleasure of being around each other again. God, it was nice. Louis loved Zayn's spindly hugs and stupidly perfect face.

"Good," Louis said, unable to keep the effervescent happiness out of his voice as he pulled out of the embrace. He set his suitcase aside in the entryway and followed Zayn into the kitchen. "Yeah... I'm -- I'm really good. How're you?"

"That's good," Zayn said, leveling him with an appraising stare after grabbing two beers from the fridge. "I'm good."

Louis squirmed a little under the scrutiny and scrubbed at his brow, immediately thinking back to his frantic, over-the-top phone call a few weeks before.

Harry Styles is hot, okay? He's hot and he's flirting with me...

"Any progress on the deed front?" Zayn's tone was casual as he levered their bottles open, but Louis knew better, and the question brought him quickly down to Earth.

There's a reason you went to Wyoming, he reminded himself, a touch of doubt creeping back into his heart and deflating his sails. And it wasn't to fucking fall in love. If that's -- I mean...

"Not --" Louis cleared his throat, picking at the label of his beer and not making eye contact. "Not really..."

Zayn nodded. He took a long swig of beer, not saying anything else, just rocking back on his heels a little and looking directly at Louis with his pretty eyes.

Louis scowled internally. Fucking Zayn. He could wait anybody out in an awkward silence. Louis didn't want to spill, though. He didn't want to talk about Harry outside a context of uncomplicated happiness right then. He just wanted to have it. To have Harry, without the rest of the bullshit. It was irritating to be reminded that he couldn't.

"How'd you get this?" he asked, purposefully changing the subject. He waved his bottle of New Glarus Moon Man around in front of Zayn's face. New Glarus beer wasn't legally available for purchase outside the state of Wisconsin, and as far as Louis knew Zayn hadn't been home since December.

Zayn sighed, and rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what Louis was doing, but he was a great friend, so he let him do it. For the time being, anyway. "Waliyha came through on a road trip out to California, and brought me two cases as payment for letting her and boyfriend crash here for a week."

"Oh yeah? How's she doing?"

Their conversation quickly turned to the rest of Zayn's sisters and his parents back in Madison and how everyone was. Louis felt himself relax as they talked, but there was a distracting little itch of worry underneath it all -- thoughts about the land deal and his job and the rest of his life that he'd been completely ignoring for the past week or so. It made him feel anxious to get to the gala, to see Harry and let his wonderful presence make all of Louis's resurfacing concerns irrelevant again.

If I can just see him, it'll be okay.

They split a cab over to the fundraiser, still reminiscing about Madison on the way. The Great Hall at Union Station was a beautiful, open space with a vaulted ceiling, huge, arched windows, and gorgeously restored chandeliers. It had historically been a passenger waiting area at the station, and hosted most of the city's fancy society events now that it had been renovated. It reminded them both of the Overture Center in Madison, where they'd worked in in-house catering for most of their college careers.

Zayn was laughing and Louis had a wide grin plastered on his face as they entered the hall, rehashing an old story. Legendary Packers quarterback Bart Starr had been the guest of honor at a Boys and Girls Club luncheon that they'd both worked their senior year, and Louis had gotten to clear his plate at the end of the meal. It was absurd, fighting over the right to dispose of someone's leftover food scraps, but everyone had been angling to do it, so Louis had been understandably smug. Months later, he had found out Zayn had told the story to his family, but had said that he'd been the one who had cleared Bart's plate. Lying like that was so ridiculously out of character for Zayn that Louis had vowed never to let him live it down.

"Well, what was I supposed to do, really?" Zayn asked, after they'd stashed Louis's suitcase in coat check. "Let a Vikings fan get all the glory?"

Louis rolled his eyes and snorted. He'd barely counted as a Vikings fan before he'd gone to college, and Zayn knew he'd been long since converted.

"Who's the Bart Starr here tonight, hmm?" he asked, glancing about at stately men in tuxedos and women in gowns, all dressed up to support pancreatic cancer research. His ridiculous heart was at a gallop. Any of these people might be Harry. Louis might see him any second now, and he wanted that so much it ached. He just wanted to be near Harry again. He smirked at Zayn, hoping his distraction wasn't obvious. "And who is the horribly untrustworthy Zayn Malik?"

Zayn scoffed, smiling and rolling his eyes. "Well, which one's the Louis Tomlinson, then?" he retorted, craning his neck as he looked around as well. "I'll just keep an eye out for the server who won't stop checking out his own ass in reflective surfaces when he's supposed to be passing champagne."

Louis burst out laughing, nudging Zayn with his shoulder as they got in line for the bar at the center of the big event space.

Just after they'd gotten their gin and tonics and turned back to face the crowd, Louis spotted Harry in a cluster of people across the room, near one of the Great Hall's many decorative lampposts. His heart leapt in his chest, adrenaline sweeping through him. Harry Styles in a tux did not disappoint. He looked sharp and strong in black, the width of his shoulders perfect above his lean hips, his hair in loose waves.

Louis had already led Zayn halfway over to him on thoughtless autopilot before he realized something was off. There was a unnatural stiffness in Harry's posture, a tension in his brow, and his mouth was turned down heavily at the corners. Louis's eyes flickered over to Niall, looking uncomfortable and nervous next to Harry, and his pulse started racing for an entirely new reason.

He stuttered to a stop a few feet behind them, unsure if he should interrupt at all, but not before Anne Twist had seen him.

Shit, he thought, shifting in unease. Shit.

"Mr. Tomlinson!" she called out, her perfectly maintained brows arching above her eyes. She was in a well-structured, royal purple gown, and Louis realized then he'd always thought of her as some sort of queen -- cool and controlled, with a stately, removed beauty. It was strange to think she even knew him by name. "Mr. Malik!"

Louis flushed slightly as they were let into the circle, suddenly afraid to make eye contact with Harry even though he felt his presence so strongly it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Gentlemen," she gestured to the well-dressed man on her right. "This is Walter Mohs, CEO of National Energy Group. He's in town for business, so we invited him to the fundraiser as a special guest."

National Energy Group. Louis's mouth went dry, his heart plummeting to his feet. The subsidiary that wanted to buy Harry's oil.

"Walter," she said, nodding at him, "Louis Tomlinson and Zayn Malik, two of my best and brightest."

Louis's palm was clammy as he shook Walter Mohs's meaty hand. The tension in the air was making it difficult for him to breathe. He'd been blindsided by this turn of events, and felt utterly foolish for it.

"Ah," Mohs said, his deep voice booming. "Mr. Tomlinson. Your man in the field?"

Louis's stomach lurched and he felt Harry go even stiffer across the circle. Anne just smiled and nodded.

"Say, Styles, speaking of," Mohs continued, turning his body toward Harry, "how are things back on the farm, these days?"

Harry sniffed and waited a beat before responding with a tight smile on his face, his tone clipped. "The ranch is fine. Thank you for asking."

Louis blinked, trying to keep from going too obviously wide-eyed from their exchange as his gaze darted back to Mohs. The man appeared to be in his mid-sixties, with the sort of formerly blond hair that doesn't quite go gray, but just dulls into colorlessness. He was tall, more barrel-chested than you'd expect for a CEO, and he seemed to take up more than his fair share of space in the giant room.

Louis heard his mother's voice in his head then, something she'd said to him once at the kitchen table when he was sixteen. She'd probably assumed he'd forget it right away, like most of the advice she gave him. But he'd always remembered it. Watch out for those men, Louis. The ones who only state their opinion as fact. There'll be lots of them. Don't become one, either.

"I'm glad," Walter Mohs said, bobbing his head at Harry. "That's great news. I only asked because I'd heard you'd had a little trouble with a barn as of late. Sort of bad timing for replacing it, I guess, with that write-off code changing this year, is all."

Harry looked positively steely beneath his smile. "Well, I doubt anyone is surprised to hear you're well-versed in potential tax breaks, Walter."

Mohs let out a long, slow chuckle, raising his scotch at Harry. "Excellent point, son."

Louis felt Zayn shift his weight next to him and wondered if he felt the poisonous electricity in the air, too. If he was also desperate to take a large slug of his gin as soon as this was over. If it was ever over -- it somehow felt like they'd be trapped in the awkwardness forever.

"And actually," Harry said cooly, still smiling, even though Louis could see that his hand was shaking around the whiskey sour he was holding, "despite the lowered cap on the Expense Election, we're in an excellent position to replace our barn given the strength of the cattle market and the amount of working capital we've managed to accrue over the past few years. But, again, thank you for your concern."

Mohs raised his brows in slight surprise.

"Now, if you'll excuse me." Harry said, "I see some other people I should say hello to."

"By all means," Mohs drawled magnanimously.

Harry gave him a curt nod, and then he was gone.

Anne let out a chuckle. If she felt ruffled by the situation at all, she didn't show it. "Walt, why don't I introduce you around to some of the Styles Foundation's more prominent patrons? I'm sure they'd love to meet you." She nodded to Zayn, Louis and Niall. "Nice talking to you, gentlemen."

Niall turned to them both with wide eyes after everyone had gone, letting out a low whistle. "Yikes," he said, laughing nervously. He gave Louis and Zayn a dubious look. "Do you guys think they'll serve us straight shots in this place?"

Twenty minutes later, after Niall and Zayn had been introduced, they had indeed taken a round of tequila shots and were standing at a high-top table, nursing new drinks and trying to make small talk.

The mood was a little off. Louis felt rattled and horrendously naïve, and he couldn't help getting lost in his thoughts. He was trying to remember the morning. The plane. What had he been thinking, coming here so high on the fumes of his infatuation? That he and Harry could flirt all night, work the room as some sort of couple, unbothered by any of the realities of their situation? That was laughable -- completely, horribly laughable -- and it was making him sick to his stomach.

I hope he's okay, Louis thought, wondering where Harry had gone off to and with whom he was speaking. I wish -- God, I still wish I was with him...

Niall made a muttering noise of disgust under his breath during a lull in conversation.

"What?" Louis asked, coming back to reality.

Niall scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. He sighed. "No offense to you guys, but coming here every year can be a bit of a buzzkill."

Zayn snorted, pleased. This was not his preferred atmosphere, either. Louis was sometimes mystified as to how he'd even decided to become a corporate lawyer.

"I mean," Niall went on, rolling his eyes, his expression dark. He glanced around quickly to make sure no one was listening and lowered his voice. "That Walter Mohs guy back there? What a fucking chump."

Zayn burst into outright laughter this time, and Louis couldn't help but join in. He felt a weird surge of affection for Niall, that he would use the word 'chump' and that it would somehow be just right.

"No, I'm serious!" Niall said, even though he was smiling a little too, now, toying with a cocktail napkin. "Like, he's trying to buy Harry's land, right? And he's all like," he puffed out his chest and adopted a meathead tone of voice, "'Oh, I know how I'll do it, I'll just insult his way of life, that's how! Ha ha ha, I'm a corporate genius.'" He took a swig of his beer as Zayn and Louis chuckled. "Complete jackass is what he is."

Louis felt his sour mood lift just a bit, having the source of their awkwardness out in the open. Zayn looked more relaxed as well.

"You were here last year?" Zayn asked, genuinely curious.

Niall nodded. "Yeah, I come with 'im every year. It's like --" he started ripping the napkin to shreds, looking back and forth between the two of them. He shook his head. "I don't know if I should really be telling you this, but it's tough for him, being here, you know? All this stuff about his dad. All these people who think he should have gone into business..."

Louis felt very emotional all of a sudden, a wicked tightening in his chest at the idea of Harry feeling vulnerable. He was so intensely glad Harry had Niall in his life that his arms felt strangely weak.

Jesus Christ, I'm in deep, he realized. Too deep.

Niall started to laugh, suddenly. "Dude," he said to Zayn. "I actually remember you from last year, cause I was like, trying to keep Harry's mind off stuff and we were making up backstories for people from afar. You are really good-looking."

Zayn blushed a little bit, and Louis started to laugh again. It was true, of course. Zayn was really good-looking. That was probably an understatement, actually. Zayn had exactly the kind of hauntingly beautiful face -- lovely dark brown eyes, pouty little lips, perfect bone structure -- that you would remember a year later.

"What kind of story did you make up for him?" Louis asked, giggling a little at how Zayn was squirming.

"Actually," Niall said, making a sheepish face of amusement at Zayn, "now that I think about it, I didn't really come up with anything for you, specifically. I was just teasing H, trying to get him to go hit on you."

Louis laughed again, maybe a shade too loudly. "Oh, oh! It gets better and better."

"He said Zayn wasn't his type, Louis," Niall said quickly, giving him a look, like he'd read his jealousy right off him. "Now, if you'd been here last year..."

That shut Louis up. He was suddenly jealous of himself, instead. This lucky former version of Louis Tomlinson that had met Harry Styles at a party without all of these terrible, complicating factors.

That Louis and Harry could have actually danced, Louis realized, his heart twisting sharply. He felt ridiculously overemotional again. They would have danced. We -- we could've...

His distress must have been clear on his face, because Niall didn't laugh at him. He just made an apologetic noise and gave him a comforting look, and Zayn squeezed his shoulder once.

What is happening to me? Louis wondered. Just a few hours before, anything had seemed possible. Now he felt like he could never have the one thing he really wanted.

"Hey Zayn," Niall said, beaming at Louis, full of pride. "Did you know your best friend is a hero?"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep, he helped with the emergency birth of twin calves, just this morning."

"Are you shitting me?" Zayn asked, his head snapping over to look at Louis in disbelief.

Louis's heart swelled painfully this time, thinking about Sally and Paul, and how fragile and wonderful and new they were. About how amazing Jolene was. About how close he'd been to Harry on that hill.

"It -- " Louis broke off, laughing a little at the thickness in his voice and how clearly close to tears he was. Zayn squeezed his shoulder again and Louis leaned into the touch, shaking his head. "It was something else, Zayn. It was something else."

"He touched a cow vagina," Niall announced, grinning and raising his beer in a toast.

Zayn laughed, raising his gin and tonic. "I'll drink to that!"

Louis laughed too, recounting the whole story for Zayn before they sat down for dinner and feeling very loved, even though he was still a little worried and a little sad underneath it all.

Louis found his place card at a table in the far corner of the room with a bunch of other paralegals, well back from the podium where the speeches would be given. It seemed as though everyone else had sat down early, because there were empty beer bottles and highball glasses dotting the table, tucked in between the salads and dinner roll plates. Nick Grimshaw was already holding court, leaning back in his chair with his long legs crossed and his eyes alert. Louis got the distinct impression he had been the topic of conversation before he'd arrived because they were all strangely hushed, and Grimshaw's face was even more smug than usual.

Of course, he thought, sitting down and flicking his cloth napkin onto his lap. Of course they were talking about you.

He'd been so distracted, so concerned about Harry and the ranch and which cases Grimshaw was trying to snatch from him that he'd only given cursory thought to how it all might look to his peers. Off in Wyoming for a month, behind on his work, Louis would have been gossiping about himself too. He'd have been bitching about it, probably, if he'd heard about the double time pay.

"Well, well, well," Grimshaw said, leaning forward to grab his dinner roll. "Look who it is, back from his all-inclusive resort vacation!"

So probably they had heard about the double time pay.

"Hello, Nick," Louis said dryly, nodding around the circle to greet everyone else.

"Hello yourself!" Nick replied as he tore a small piece off the roll and popped it into his mouth. He smirked. "Or should I say 'howdy' now? Is that an actual thing? Do they say that out there?"

Louis just ignored him, reaching for the boat of balsamic vinaigrette.

"Oh come on, Louis, we've missed you," Nick said, a twinkle of mischievous glee in his eye. "Don't hold out on us, how's home on the range?"

Louis snorted and rolled his eyes, trying to seal off his tender emotions so Grimshaw wouldn't be able to get a rise out of him. He was always at his most obnoxious after a couple of drinks.

"Home, home on the range, where the deer and the antelope play..." Nick started to sing rather tunelessly, moving his hands around a little like a conductor's, pretending he expected others to join in. He paused. "Wait, are there actually antelope? Do you seldom hear a discouraging word?"

"There are no antelope as far as I know," Louis said, hoping his disinterested tone would convey how unimpressed he was with Nick's antics.

He doesn't even deserve to know how wonderful it is, Louis thought, slightly bitter even though deep down he knew very well that Grimshaw's condescending perspective used to be his own. The guilt from it was making him extra irritable, annoyed at that particular reminder.

"I'm surprised you've lasted out there so long," Nick went on, a teasing smirk on his face as he mopped up some salad dressing with his bread. "Never took you for the outdoorsy type... Then I saw Ms. Twist's son, and it all made sense. I thought -- hmm, he's very handsome. Bit of a Brokeback situation, maybe?"

Louis dropped his fork onto his plate with a loud clatter and had to grip the edge of the table to keep from flying off the handle and telling Nick to shut his fucking mouth. As it was, his reaction was probably revealing enough because the whole table had turned to look at him in surprise, any loose threads of conversation trailing off into silence.

Great. Louis winced and closed his eyes. At least they have even more to gossip about now.

When he opened them again, everyone else had suddenly become supremely interested in their salads -- except for Nick, who was staring at him across the table with his eyes wide and his brows incredibly arched.

Drop it, Grimmy, Louis thought, though he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. Just please drop it.

This event was forcing him to confront the fact that despite liking Harry so very much and having grown so close to him, he'd most likely never get to be with him. Louis felt more and more upset as the realization sank in, until he was perilously close to spinning out of control emotionally -- if Nick pushed him on it, he was afraid he might actually start to cry.

It's not fair. It isn't.

Louis ached to go back to the rainy hillside where Jolene gave birth and never leave the warm cocoon he and Harry had built around themselves. Back to that time of infinite possibility, when they'd had nothing to be frustrated about at all. Because we were lying to ourselves, he thought, his throat thick with emotion.

He looked across the table and shrugged with a furrowed brow, and something shifted ever so slightly in Grimshaw's expression. He blinked at Louis, then turned to the woman on his right.

"Terri, are you going to eat that dinner roll?" he demanded. "Because if you don't, I will."

Louis let out a slow sigh. Conversation around the table quickly came back to life as dinner was served, but he barely participated. He zoned out through the duration of Anne's remarks, working to keep his mind as blank as possible.

It didn't work. The ball in the pit of his stomach just grew heavier as the meal went on, an anxious weight settling over him. He let his colleagues gossip and talk shop around him, their words washing over him without really registering. It wasn't until they were being served after-dinner coffees and the dancefloor was opening up that he caught a thread of conversation.

"No, no, Chesterton and Valley settled," Nick was saying as he dumped far too much sugar into his coffee. Louis actually found that vaguely endearing; he'd have assumed Nick took it black. "We're moved up to early June, probably."

"Who's we?" Louis asked, so suddenly that he startled Nick and Terri Brend, another TwistCorp paralegal.

"Hopkins-Harrington --"

Louis didn't even let Nick finish before he was asking another question, his heart beating a little faster as he sat forward on his seat. "Not until August at the earliest, I thought."

"Well, yes. It was going to be August," Nick said, looking much too pleased at how out of the loop Louis had become. And also like he was tucking Louis's responses away for future reference. "But Judge Koob had another big case that settled, and she wants to move us up her docket." He shrugged. "Discovery's closed, so we both agreed."

Louis bit his lip and nodded curtly. He could feel a question about the status of the land deal forming on the tip of Nick's tongue, so he stood up abruptly, murmuring that he had to use the restroom as he sped away from the table. He bypassed the men's room and headed up a flight of nearby stairs instead, eventually taking refuge on a cushioned bench in a deserted corner of the third floor mezzanine.

June, he thought, letting his frustration spiral out to his fingertips as a flush spread over his skin. Early fucking June.

The Hopkins-Harrington case was going to court well ahead of schedule, and he'd had no idea at all. Louis had invested so much time and effort in it over the past year, and now he was probably going to miss it. Come June, he would probably still be stuck in Wyoming.

Stuck in Wyoming. The words echoed through his mind, drenched in sarcasm, and he let out a bleak laugh. That was part of the problem. Louis didn't truly feel stuck in Wyoming anymore, not if he was being honest with himself. Quite the opposite, in fact. God, if this fundraiser had been three weeks ago, hearing this type of news would have had him charging off to Zayn in a whirlwind of outraged panic, demanding to be allowed to come home. But now...

It was another sobering reality check for Louis, and he groaned, plunking his head back against the wall behind him and staring up at the ceiling. The truth was that he hadn't really been letting himself think about the future, how long his stay in Sheridan might be. He'd just let himself get so caught up in the moment, more and more wrapped up in Harry and his feelings for him, that he hadn't actually been thinking much at all. Certainly not about the responsibilities of his own life in Denver. Which he would actually be returning to at some point.

Everything was in such muddle in his mind. His head had started to ache, just like his heart. Why can't it be simple? Why can't we just be the only two people in the world?

"I need a fucking drink," Louis muttered at last, full of self-pity as he heaved himself up off the bench and headed back toward the stairs. He looked down at the party below through the big arched openings in the wall, skimming his fingers along the sill of the last one before the turn to the stairwell, and stopped short when he heard Harry's voice around the corner. A bolt of electricity shot down his spine.

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry said sharply. Louis couldn't see around the edge of the wall, but his senses were on high alert, and he could hear Harry's soft footfalls on the carpet, could tell he'd made an aborted move toward the stairs.

"Honey --" Louis recognized Anne Twist's voice; the fabric of her expensive dress made a crinkling noise as she moved. The sound of it faded away into nothing, and Louis thought she and Harry were probably standing side-by-side at the top of the steps.

"Mom, just... Just not tonight, okay?" Harry said, a bit of impatience creeping in.

"I'm sorry about Walter."

Harry sucked in a quick breath of frustration. "Well, maybe you shouldn't have invited him then."

"I meant about the --"

"If you didn't want him to bring up the barn, you shouldn't have fucking told him about it," Harry interrupted hotly, and Louis felt a fresh burst of adrenaline surge through him, his heart pounding. "And it's not like taking out a mortgage is the end of the fucking world, so I'm not sure what there really is to discuss..."

There was a heavy pause and Louis bit his lip as he waited for Anne's response with wide, darting eyes. He knew he shouldn't be listening, but he felt terrified that backtracking toward the bench would only call attention to his presence. He was frozen in place by both his deep concern for Harry and his intense desire to know what was going on.

Harry made a light scoffing noise at his mother's continued silence. "I'm not selling," he said finally, firmly, giving each word special weight. But a current of irritation ran under them, like Harry knew that no matter how many times he said them they wouldn't be heard.

Anne let out a long, measured sigh. When she spoke again, it was in a soft whisper. "I know you miss them, Harry. I'm so sorry."

"No!" Harry said, so sharply that Louis almost gasped, his pulse leaping through his veins. "No. You don't get to --" Harry paused and took a deep, shaky breath, like he was trying to get a handle on his emotions before it was too late. When he continued, his voice was wobbling with righteous indignation and hurt. "You don't get to tell me that you understand the -- the reasons for my attachment to that land, while implying in the same breath that that's what I'm letting impair my judgment." He cleared his throat again, and Louis felt a horrible wrenching in his heart when he realized that Harry must be close to tears. He couldn't help but picture him with shaking hands, and the idea of that made his whole body hurt. "Especially not when you've used an event like -- an event like this one to trap me into talking about it the first place."

"Harry --"

"No," Harry said, again. "It's my life. It's my ranch. It's my decision. Not yours."

Then Louis heard the sound of the soles of his dress shoes as they slapped quickly down the stairs, leaving his mother behind.

Oh, Harry.

Louis felt like a raw nerve, vibrating in place with the effort of not sprinting around the corner and shouting at Anne before following after him. It was agony, not being able to pull Harry close and at least attempt to comfort him.

He stood stock still, barely even breathing, until he heard Anne Twist sigh again, cursing under her breath and then swishing off to the bank of elevators on the opposite end of the mezzanine. He leaned back against the wall and buried his head in his hands, his anger at Anne giving way to churning emotional disarray.

How had he gotten to this point? Why did his life have to be this way? How was Louis ever supposed to do his job when it turned out that what he wanted most of all was to ease Harry's pain, to help him and protect him? How could Harry possibly still want him after all these stark reminders of the reality of their situation? Of the interests that Louis's presence represented? How would it ever work? What had they even been thinking?

I'll quit my job, Louis thought wildy, his heart rabbiting in his chest and one hand fisted in his hair as he went momentarily crazy with longing for that to be an actual possibility for him. For the world to have placed him in a position where he could actually just cast everything else aside. And just be with Harry. Just be with him.

He let out a pained laugh. A constricting sadness took hold of him for a moment, closing off his throat and making it difficult to breathe as he slumped further down the wall. He wished so fervently right then that he hadn't taken his moment in Harry's arms for granted that morning, that he'd savored it as something singular and special instead of having seen it as a promise of something more to come. Something so tantalizingly wonderful... that could probably never be. He'd never felt so broken over an almost-was.

"God damn it," he hissed, clenching a fist and beating it gently against the wall, closing his eyes against the searing pain in his chest. He needed a drink now more than ever.

He spent most of the rest of the night lingering on the periphery of different clusters of people and sipping a beer while he smiled along with conversation and laughed at the right moments, even though his attention never really strayed from the pain in his heart. He begged out of a game of shuffleboard with an increasingly drunk Niall and Zayn just before midnight, meandering back to the bar to order another Sierra Nevada before stationing himself at a hightop table near the edge of the dance floor.

He scoffed at himself, taking a swig of his beer, and then shook his head in defiance. No. I'll wallow if I want to, dammit.

It had been a long night. Much too long. Louis had given a bit of thought to leaving. Fantasized that he didn't have to return to Sheridan until the next morning, and could sneak back to his apartment to shut himself away from the world, maybe with a bottle of vodka and a bunch of Adele. But the truth was, he'd seen no sign of Harry since he'd overheard the argument on the third floor, and what he wanted most of all was just to see that he was all right. His disappearance was adding a layer of worry to Louis's heartache.

He's okay. He's an adult, Louis told himself, before letting out a bleak laugh. He was supposedly an adult as well, and he was most definitely not okay. He tried not to feel too desolate as he nursed his beer and looked out at the few remaining couples on the dance floor, swaying to the music. The DJ had slowed things down, since it was so close to the end of the night.

Louis was making another lazy visual pass of the room, his eyes lingering on the fancy centerpieces still on the dinner tables and the melting ice sculpture on the picked-over appetizer buffet, when there he was. There was Harry, standing across the hall, gazing back at Louis with such tender, open affection on his face that Louis could see it at twenty yards. Could feel it, even. It punched Louis in the gut and stole the breath right out of his lungs.

Harry.

Harry cocked his head to the side and gave a small, consoling smile before walking over to Louis with a steady, languid grace that was reminiscent of that first night at Liam's bar. By the time he made it to the table, Louis's heart was lodged up in his throat, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his breath came in jagged little pulls.

They regarded each other in electric silence for a long moment, and Louis could see all of the frustration and longing he'd been feeling the entire night shining right back at him out of Harry's beautiful eyes. There was a confidence in them too, though, a quiet certainty that made Louis feel like he might fall to pieces right then and there.

"H-Harry," he stammered, a nervous, watery laugh wringing itself out of his lungs.

"Dance with me," Harry said, almost before Louis had even finished saying his name, his tone warm and rich.

Louis sucked in another hitching breath at the terrifying hope and joy the words sent buzzing through his body. He went momentarily dizzy with it, his hand trembling on his beer. "B-but -- even though --"

"It doesn't matter. None of it. I don't... I don't care. I need --" Harry's voice was thick with emotion and he was smiling and shaking his head, his dimple deep. He reached out and took Louis's free hand, staring him right in the eye. "I just want to dance with you, please," he whispered.

All of Louis's worries and fears -- the terrible stress of the whole evening -- faded into the background as soon as Harry laced their fingers together, drowned out by the rush of blood pounding past his ears. At that moment, Louis didn't have the strength to pretend any longer that there was anything in the world he wanted more than to be in Harry Styles's arms again. Despite everything, Harry still wanted him, and he didn't care who saw. Louis didn't either.

He nodded wordlessly, setting his beer down and letting Harry lead him out onto the dance floor to the opening bars of a new song -- the swell of strings behind tinkling piano and a soft brush against a snare drum. The look Harry gave him when they turned to face each other made Louis flush all over, a throbbing sweetness spreading out from his heart and through the marrow of his bones.

"Louis," Harry said plaintively, huffing out a hitching laugh. Then he folded Louis fully into his embrace at last, pulling him right up against his warm frame with a large hand spanning the small of Louis's back.

Louis couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried. As the gap between their bodies disappeared, he let out a whimper, a small, choked sound of utter relief. This was it. This was what he had been waiting for since the very second Harry had let go of him on the hillside -- to be held by Harry and to hold him in return. To comfort him, and be comforted. It was a healing balm on all the hurt and worry of the past several hours, just to be close again.

Louis reveled in the feel of Harry against him, the firm plumpness of his long thighs and the broad expanse of his chest, the warmth of his shoulder under Louis's cheek. Harry's touch had Louis's eyes fluttering shut, his skin flushed and tingling, and his blood pumping, strong and hot. But it was the completeness Louis felt, being in his arms, that was truly making him weak in the knees. The joy radiating inside him came from the knowledge that at this moment, whatever was growing between them was absolutely paramount to both of them. When it came down to it, all of the troubling, complicated circumstances surrounding their situation were immaterial in the face of what they felt for each other, and that was staggering to Louis. He felt safe with Harry, and he melted into him with his heart wide open.

Harry's left hand was low on Louis's back and he'd clasped Louis's left in his right, tucking them between their bodies so they could press as close together as possible while they swayed and turned in time to the music. Harry had buried his face in Louis's hair, and Louis could feel his breath against it as he hummed along to the song. It felt so quietly intimate and lovely that Louis ached down to his toes, happy, nearly to the point of tears again.

"I'd twirl you," Harry whispered, a touch of amusement in his voice as his lips moved against the top of Louis's head, "but I don't want to let go of you to do it."

They laughed softly together at the perfectly absurd truth of the statement, their chests vibrating as one. And then Louis let out a small, semi-embarrassed half-sob because it was ridiculous and he was so preposterously moved by it. Tears had finally started welling up in his eyes. He didn't want to be let go of either, not after the night they'd had; he wanted to hold onto Harry and this moment for as long as he could. Wanted to keep breathing in the rustic hint of the ranch house beneath Harry's cologne and keep feeling the beat of Harry's heart deep in his bones.

"Don't worry," Harry said, his own voice gruff with feeling as he squeezed Louis tighter, impossibly closer. "I won't. I won't..."

He had to eventually, of course. Three songs later the DJ was done for the night, and Anne Twist's personal assistant was beckoning Harry over to her from across the room, for whatever reason.

Harry tilted Louis's chin up so he could beam down at him, and Louis swallowed hard, trembling slightly and trying not to get choked up all over again. Harry was so handsome and so kind. Louis had probably been doomed from the start, ever since he'd first seen him on his horse in the middle of the road.

"Go find Niall, all right?" Harry said, dimpling. "I'll meet you guys out front in fifteen minutes, and we can head back to the airport."

Louis nodded.

"Okay," Harry murmured, clearly still loathe to let Louis go. He looked beyond happy and brimming with emotion, his eyes so bright, and he pressed a single, lingering kiss to Louis's temple. Louis's breath caught, a shiver of sensation running down his spine as he leaned into it.

"Okay," he echoed with a swollen heart.

Then Harry squeezed his hand again, and he was gone.

*

Niall was loud and entertainingly drunk on the plane, dancing around the swank stand-up cabin and singing endless choruses of Waltzing Matilda, oblivious to the way Louis and Harry were staring at each other. It was just after four a.m. when the jet finally landed at the private airport south of Sheridan. Louis unbuckled his belt and grabbed his suitcase, hopping down the narrow little clamshell stairway onto the tarmac. The night was still dark and windy, but he could sense the mountains to the west.

Harry and Niall came down after him, arms wrapped around each other's waists. Louis turned away from the wide expanse of plain beyond the lighted runway and snorted softly as he grinned back at them -- Niall was batting at Harry's face a little like a cat, frowning in concentration, and Harry was carrying both of their bags in one muscular arm.

"Waltzing Margarita," he sang, as they walked to the cars. "You'll go a-waltzing Margarita with me..."

"Keys, Niall," Harry demanded.

Niall held them out shakily, sighing as he warbled a thin, "Where is my Margarita..." He started turning his head around, craning his neck to peer into the empty bed of his truck as Harry tried to help him up into the cab.

"Margarita's still in Gillette, Ni, with your mom," Harry chuckled. He turned to Louis as he shut the cab door behind him, tossing him the keys to his Ford.

"I've, uh, gotta take Niall home and put him to bed," he said, scratching the back of his neck and shrugging apologetically. "You go on back to the ranch. Get some sleep?"

He smiled sweetly at Louis, his face open and his eyes twinkling, and Louis felt an unbearable pressure in his chest, a longing to grab Harry, hug him and squeeze and never let go. His fingers wanted to touch so badly, his whole body desperate to be pressed flush against Harry's again, feeling the shift and give. The tension between them as they looked at each other felt like a variation on the first time -- Louis frustrated and impatient, Harry projecting calm. Only now there was a rich undercurrent to it, an ache of anticipation. They held each other's gaze until Niall rolled down the window of the truck.

"The ghost dances with Matilda," he said, words slurring together. "Even after the guy dies, all he wants is one more dance with his wife! That's a god damn love story, right there." His face crumpled a bit, like he was being hit with sudden emotion.

"I don't think the song's actually about..." Louis started, as Harry turned to look up at Niall, who was hunched over, chin on the half-rolled-down glass. He looked like he might start to cry.

"Hoo boy," Harry said, winking at Louis as he walked around to the driver's side of the truck. "Time for bed, Niall."

Louis bit his lip and nodded, walking stiffly over to Harry's truck. He was still somewhat sore from the night before, but not unpleasantly so. His thighs felt like they had an unfulfilled ache inside them as he heaved himself up behind the wheel, adjusting the seat forward to accommodate his shorter stature. He felt wired. Sleep schedule all thrown off from his extended nap in the middle of the day.

And...

Harry in his tuxedo, walking over to him so purposefully. There had been just a hint of tension in his straight, heavy brows, an indication that Harry was fully aware of the implications. Fully aware of who could see them dancing together, of what starting a relationship might mean.

It doesn't matter. None of it...

A prickle of electricity zipped down Louis's spine as he remembered. There would be consequences, probably. No, definitely, he thought, a bit chagrined. They way they'd danced... It couldn't have looked platonic. He wondered what Walter Mohs had said to Anne. He felt more and more awake as he drove the fifteen minutes back to the Lonely Rose, road silent and dark but for the warm beams coming from the headlights of the truck. The little strip of airport was convenient to the ranch, but almost half an hour out of Sheridan. Almost an hour, round-trip -- Harry would probably stay the rest of the night with Niall.

Louis parked the truck and let himself into the house with Harry's keys, resisting the urge to check in on Jolene and the calves. They were doing just fine, he knew. Roby had been sending them all text updates, and a picture of Paul and Sally curled around each other in peaceful slumber was now the lockscreen of Louis's phone. He was anxious to see them again, but didn't want to go blundering blindly around the barn, disturbing all the heifers.

The house was so quiet... Louis sucked in a breath as he rolled his little suitcase down the hall. Something about twisting the knob of the guest bedroom door reminded him again, viscerally, of his first night in Wyoming. Only this time there was a handwritten note from Mrs. Burden on his pillow:

Hope you had a good party Louis. Remember to take your ironing out of the laundry basket so I can have it back. -- Mrs. B.

Louis sighed. His hands were a little shaky; there was still an overabundance of adrenaline in his system, and he left his suitcase by the bed to walk down the dark hallway to the laundry room. He found the small pile of his clothes, freshly ironed and smelling of dryer sheets. He shook his head, smiling softly. Mrs. Burden always insisted on ironing even the old t-shirts he was only going to end up sleeping in.

Back in the warm lamplight of his room, Louis changed out of his suit and into sweats, not bothering with a shirt. The window was open, light breeze washing in and making everything smell fresh and old-fashioned at the same time. Louis lay back on the quilt, spreading his arms and staring up at the ceiling. Wondering if he should even unpack.

It doesn't matter, he thought, uncontrollable yearning practically bursting out of his chest as he wiggled his bum into the mattress, blinking in the dark. We'll figure it out. He couldn't sleep, and instead entertained himself by imagining what Harry was doing. They'd have arrived at the Horan residence by now; maybe Harry was bundling a tired, overemotional Niall in from the driveway. Louis pictured the key scraping in the lock of the side door, Harry and Niall stumbling through and taking the half-flight of stairs into the kitchen.

Now Harry was helping Niall take off his shoes, pants and suit jacket before tucking him into bed. Running downstairs to get a glass of water for him. "You have to drink two of these before you fall asleep," he was saying. Louis could practically hear his voice, stern and very male, yet also motherly.

"Harry," he sighed. Louis bit his lip as he closed his eyes, overcome with feeling for him. I wish you were here with me, instead.

But Harry was peeling out of his tuxedo now, in Louis's mind, folding the pieces of it neatly before lying down on the big, comfortable couch in the Horans' front room. Drinking some water himself and then drifting off to sleep.

Sleep, Louis told himself. I should probably sleep. But his mind and body were restless.

The room was just starting to turn gray when he heard the front door open. Louis sat up in bed, his stomach fluttering and breath catching in his throat. There were footsteps coming down the hallway, a strong, steady gait. Louis swung his legs over the side of the mattress and padded to the door, his entire body screaming Harry, Harry, Harry... He pressed himself against the cold wood, listening.

The footsteps paused just outside. Louis could hardly breathe, feeling his heart stir in his chest and crawl its way up into the back of his throat. Time seemed to be suspended in that moment. Then, as the first warm rays of sunlight crept over the windowsill, there was a soft knock.

Louis stepped back as Harry opened the door. His hair was down, chestnut curls framing his face, and his green eyes almost seemed to glow in the weak light of dawn. He blinked, mouth falling open slightly in surprise as he took in Louis's bare torso.

"You're up," he whispered, his right hand reaching out touch. He pulled it back awkwardly before finally bringing it to rest on the doorknob, thumb fiddling with the lock button. "I, uh..." Harry glanced down, sheepish grin on his face. His tux was a little rumpled, bowtie loose around his neck and the first few buttons of his ruffled dress shirt undone. "I didn't want to wake you. Just wanted to peek in."

"I thought you were gonna sleep at Niall's," Louis said, voice soft and raspy and full of fondness, cracking a bit. He saw Harry bite his lip, his fingers shaking slightly as he drew his hand away from the doorknob.

"I couldn't wait," he said, simply. His eyes flicked back up to meet Louis's, with a stare so intense Louis felt it in his chest. "I just couldn't wait any longer."

He took a step forward. Louis's heart jogged painfully when he saw the hopeful smile twitching Harry's lips, and he felt fragile, all of a sudden. Breakable. The room was washed in lavender light as Harry took Louis into his arms, finally, finally, warm and steady and there, and the way he was holding him made Louis feel like a precious object. Something to be treasured. He gazed up at Harry, their noses almost brushing as they just stood and felt each other breathe.

"Louis," said Harry, "I was thinking, um..." He shifted a little, shoulders tensing up for a moment and then sagging, as though he were making a conscious effort to relax his muscles. "When I was driving back from Niall's, all I was thinking about was missing you. I just wanted to be with you so badly." Louis's heart leapt, but he could see a worried crease forming on Harry's brow as he took a step back, holding Louis at arm's length even though it looked like it was physically hurting him to do so. "And I knew what we were getting into," he whispered. "I knew. But then all of I sudden I fully realized how it must have -- have looked when we danced, and I thought, oh God, I've put him in such a terrible position. Like, it's your job on the line. And your colleagues all saw, and, God, my mother..." He kept running his fingertips over Louis's arms, eyes fascinated and hungry, but worried.

"Harry --" Louis began, but Harry cut him off right away.

"I need you to know how I feel," Harry said. He huffed out a weak laugh. "I mean, it's obvious... obvious what I want. But I don't want to put pressure on you." He lifted his eyes to meet Louis's. "I don't want to be selfish. Dancing with you was selfish. I just... I know this is riskier for you than for me. I just wanted to say that."

"Harry, I wanted you to come back," Louis whispered. "And you didn't force me to dance with you, you know. I..." He took a deep, shuddering breath, and felt Harry's big hand come up to massage the back of his neck. Felt him play with the loose tendrils there, where Louis's hair had grown a bit shaggy. He hadn't even thought of cutting it since he'd been at the ranch. The soft, gentle brush, the warmth of Harry's fingertips right at the nape of his neck sent zips of pleasure down his spine.

"I want to make love to you," Harry said, in a low voice. He sounded serious. Louis shivered in his arms, wondering why it was affecting him so much, that phrase. Make love to you. He'd have snorted and rolled his eyes if it were anybody else... Anybody else. But the way Harry said it made something warm unfurl in Louis's chest. "Want you to fuck me," Harry added, dipping his chin to whisper it into Louis's ear. "I've been thinking about it for weeks."

Louis almost gasped. The spell that had been holding him paralyzed was broken; he reached up, took Harry's face in his hands and pulled him down into a kiss. Their lips met, opening immediately to let each other in -- already let each other in, Louis thought, semi-incoherently as he walked Harry back into a dresser. "Mmph," Harry mumbled, surprised. He tightened his grip on Louis's neck, twisting his head to get a better angle. They were desperate, tasting each other, Louis arching his spine as Harry clutched him lower, fingers roaming greedily over the planes of his back before digging into his bare, golden skin. It was perfect, God, the way Harry was touching him. Thumbs kneading into the slight softness around his pelvic bone, sweeping down to graze the low-hanging waistband of his sweats. Louis shivered with barely-contained energy. He nipped at Harry's pillowy lips with his teeth, laving over them with his tongue afterward and causing Harry to moan into his mouth.

"Weeks, huh?" Louis asked, breaking away to press kisses down the cut of Harry's jawline. He nuzzled at his neck, breathing in the hint of cologne that still lingered there. When Harry didn't answer right away, he punctuated his question with a soft tug at the base of his curls, right behind his ear.

"Yes -- yes," Harry stuttered, and his voice was thick with emotion. "Louis... God, I -- I've never..."

Louis drew in a breath and leaned back, eyelids fluttering as he felt Harry's hardening length on his thigh. "Never what, Harry?" he asked.

Harry's eyes were still closed, lips slick and slightly parted as he pulled Louis closer and started to grind onto him with slow circles. "Never felt this way before," he breathed, cheeks flushing immediately. He rolled his puffy, kiss-bitten lips together and ducked his head, like he was embarrassed, not sure if he was allowed to admit to having those kinds of feelings. Louis's heart burst, an extra half-beat thudding through him.

He lifted Harry's chin, watching as his eyes blinked open. They were glassy, almost drunk with pleasure. Louis gazed at him for a moment, let him see how serious he was before kissed him. He kissed him hard and thoroughly, hands running through his hair as he snapped his hips forward to meet Harry's, feeling their trapped erections rub together under layers of clothing.

The groan that Harry let out went straight to Louis's cock. He thrust up harder, giving Harry a preview of what was coming. Mimed fucking him back into the dresser for a few seconds, feeling Harry quiver and shudder beneath him. He stopped before he hurt Harry's back, and brought his hands down to rub and knead at it under the tuxedo jacket.

"God, Louis..."

"Bed," Louis breathed. "Can you -- can... Your clothes..."

"Yeah," Harry whined, voice a little higher, almost keening as Louis directed him back onto the bed. "Yeah, lemme..."

He struggled to take off his jacket while leaning in for more kisses, Louis helping him slide it off his shoulders. They fumbled around for a few seconds while Harry kicked off his shoes, Louis fisting the material of Harry's dress shirt and pulling it up to expose a pale expanse of toned stomach. Harry quickly worked to undo the buttons as Louis let his hands drift lower. He bit his lip, rubbing one knuckle reverently over the warm bulge at the front of Harry's trousers.

"Lou..." Harry's voice was like rough honey. He let his shirt fall away and then pulled Louis into his chest again. Louis went easily, keeping one hand between them, palming at Harry's crotch. He stroked softly up and down, pushing into the fabric with his fingertips and hearing Harry's breath stutter as he kissed him.

"It's kind of weird to imagine," Louis said, parting Harry's fly to rub right down on the zipper. "You touching yourself and thinking about me."

Harry stopped mouthing at Louis's neck and pouted. He sank back on the mattress, brow furrowed as Louis finally unbuttoned the top of his trousers for him.

"Weird?" he asked.

"Well!" Louis laughed, breathlessly, rolling his eyes in mild embarrassment as he tugged Harry's pants down inch by inch and tried not to faint at the sight of his beautifully-shaped thighs, milky white and almost virginal-looking. His palms were itching to touch. "Sorry," he said. "Weird's the wrong word. It's overwhelming. It's so hot, it..." He gestured to the obvious tent in his sweatpants.

Harry kicked his trousers away and pulled Louis down next to him on the bed, his big hand squeezing Louis's waist before running up to trace his collarbones. "You're the overwhelming one," he whispered. "Right away I just... I didn't even know what to do with myself around you." He brushed a lock of hair off Louis's forehead and leaned in to press a kiss to his temple.

"Same," Louis said, smiling. Part of him just wanted to lie there with Harry for hours, spreading his hands out over his chest and his hips and his thighs and telling him every thought that had gone through his head for the past month. "And, um, just so you know," he said. "I've been thinking about you, too. A lot."

"I kind of knew," Harry grinned, and barked out a laugh when Louis reached out to twist his left nipple. "Not for sure," he protested, as Louis clambered over him, knees bracketing his hips, and bent down to suck harshly at the other one. "It's --" His breath died all of a sudden, voice stuttering to a halt. "It's very nice to hear," he gasped.

Harry's hips bucked up involuntarily, one hand tracing light patterns on Louis's back, the other fisting the duvet. Louis lost himself in exploring Harry's body, touching the places he'd wanted to touch for so long and discovering new, wonderful things -- like how light the hair was on Harry's legs, how soft and sexy his inner thighs were, how it made his whole body shake when Louis sucked a lovebite just to the left of his bellybutton.

He was so beautiful. So responsive, so pliant and open in bed, it gave Louis a head rush, made his heart pound to just this side of panic.

"Louis," Harry moaned, when Louis slipped an arm under Harry's thigh and hefted his leg up, the finger of his other hand rubbing over soft cotton in the cleft of his cheeks. Harry was still wearing his boxer briefs, and the tip of his cock was straining out of them and leaving traces of precome on his belly. Louis pressed forward, folding Harry nearly in half as he slipped a finger inside the hot confines of Harry's underwear and found his entrance. He massaged it with a knuckle, not wanting to do more than that without lube, but enjoying the way Harry's mouth was opening, back arching already. "Baby, please," Harry begged. His right hand was hovering over his cock, clearly wanting to give it some attention but trying to be patient.

Louis just intensified what he was doing, putting his own hips into it and starting up a rhythm. It was driving them both crazy before long, the almost-ness of it. "It's gonna feel so good," Louis whispered. He couldn't ignore the way it made his body hot all over, Harry calling him 'baby' in his cowboy voice. Harry falling apart beneath him.

"The best," Harry whimpered. "I'm not sure I can... God. I feel like I'm gonna come as soon as you touch me."

"Come on my face," Louis decided. He got an illicit thrill all of a sudden, a shot through his heart. "Then I'll fuck you nice and slow until you come again."

Harry shuddered a breath, and nodded hard. He let his legs fall open as Louis slipped out from underneath him, his cock a hard line in his briefs. Louis peeled them down and stripped them off. He ghosted his breath over Harry's length, watching his stomach rise and fall, abs flinching a little in anticipation.

Just when Harry was beginning to shift his hips around impatiently, Louis pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock and whispered a low "howdy pardner" to it. Harry let out something between a snort and a groan, thrusting up and bumping Louis's nose.

"Fucking touch me, please," he muttered, as his hand found Louis's hair. "Pardner."

Louis grinned, fondness welling up inside him. He took Harry in his right hand and started jacking him off to the rhythm he'd been using when he masturbated, fast and firm and relentless. After a minute he put his mouth on him, just the tip, and began to suck softly.

"Oh," Harry moaned. "Oh, oh God..."

His hips stuttered upward and Louis shoved them back down. He opened his mouth, letting Harry see the pink tip of his cock on Louis's tongue as he stroked him even faster, giving him kitten licks and fluttering his eyelashes. Harry was alternately craning his neck to look at Louis in wonder and letting his head fall back on the mattress, eyes closed and thighs quivering. The light of morning had grown stronger, suffusing everything with a soft glow.

"Fuck, Louis..." Harry bit his slightly swollen bottom lip and started to come with a violent shudder. Louis let a few drops hit his tongue and the roof of his mouth before directing the rest onto his lips and his high cheekbones. He felt a thrill deep in his belly, a sudden, violent tug. Like he'd been caught on a line, and Harry was reeling him in. We both chose this, he thought to himself, with a zip of anxious pleasure. No matter what happens.

Harry lay back, legs completely relaxed and his hand lightly massaging the back of Louis's head. "That was... God, incredible."

Louis suckled Harry's softening cock until Harry started hissing, sensitive and overstimulated. Then he drew off and reached over Harry to the nightstand for a tissue. Harry was like a lead weight on the bed, completely fucked-out without even having been penetrated. Louis couldn't help laughing a little as he wiped off his face. "You can go again, right?" he teased.

"Yeah," Harry said, voice indignant and a little strangled. He was blinking like he was trying to find his bearings. He reached out and swiped at Louis's ribs in a halfhearted attempt at tickling. "Just need a sec." Harry's chest heaved, thin sheen of sweat almost glowing in the pale pinks and blues of the sunrise. "Like ten seconds. Fuck."

Louis laughed. His own cock was still hard, aching dully and rubbing against the waistband of his sweats as he moved off the bed. His chest felt tight, and something flared up in his groin when he thought about how he was going to have sex with Harry in just a few minutes. Get his fingers inside... Feel him. Oh, God.

"Condoms?" he asked softly, his voice a bit rough.

"Bottom drawer of my dresser, under my shirts," Harry said. "Lube's in the nightstand. Used to hide it better, but Mrs. Burden kept finding it anyway, kept trying to organize it in with the toothpastes. Had to have a talk with her about it. It was awkward."

Louis huffed a laugh, feeling the corners of his eyes crinkle as he gazed down at Harry, spreadeagled and so beautifully naked for him. "Be right back, peaches."

"Peaches?" Harry barked, trying to wrinkle his nose in disgust even though Louis could tell he was fighting off a smile. His post-orgasm flush spread from his neck up to his cheeks, and his eyes were twinkling.

Louis shrugged, pleased with himself. "Your thighs are just the softest, peachiest --"

"Get out," Harry scoffed, faking exasperation as his fingers spread out to feel over the front of his thighs.

Laughing, Louis turned on his heel and padded out of the room. The hallway was quiet, shadowed. The encroaching light of dawn made everything seem softer and more peaceful than it had when Louis had come home alone just a couple of hours before. His heart did a flip in his chest when he pushed open the door to Harry's room and saw the neatly-made bed, the brown country quilt. He rummaged around in the nightstand for the lube, finding it easily, and turned his attention to the dresser.

He opened the bottom drawer, trying not to disturb the piles of Harry's neatly folded shirts -- old flannels mixed in with beautiful white silk blouses and ratty mesh tops -- as he rooted around underneath them. Before he found any condoms, his hand brushed over something else. Something long and cool, hard with a rubbery exterior. Louis pulled it out and gazed at it, feeling like his chest was about to collapse. It was a dildo. A vibrating one with a switch at the base, neon pink and realistically shaped.

Butterflies burst in Louis's stomach, and he felt his own erect cock blurt out a few drops of precome. "Oh god, Harry, you're going to kill me," he whispered. He tucked the dildo under his arm and found the small packet of condoms that had been shoved into one of the back corners of the drawer.

Calm down, he ordered himself on the way back to the bedroom. Calm down; control yourself. He paused at the door, mouth dry and breath coming a little too quickly. It was just so hot, thinking about Harry. He'd imagined him so many ways, in so many positions -- sexual and otherwise -- and now the sun was coming up and none of them mattered. Harry was in his room. Waiting for him. Harry Styles who was kind and thoughtful and stubborn and so, so wonderful.

Louis pushed the door open. "Harry," he said, clearing his throat.

Harry already had one finger inside. Louis blinked, clutching the dildo tighter in his hand and feeling his toes curl into the carpet a little at the sight. Fuck.

"Finally," Harry breathed. "I couldn't wait..." His brow furrowed as he tried to sit up on his elbows. "Why do you --"

"Finders keepers," Louis grinned, whipping the pink dildo out and waving it back and forth. Harry tried to swipe at it with his free arm, but the angles were awkward and he fell back on the mattress.

"I don't want that," Harry huffed, rolling his eyes. "Want you. Come on, it's been all I can fucking think about."

Louis licked his lips, pursing them as he smirked. "It's not for right now," he said. "And it's not for you." He tossed it on his own dresser, near the porcelain horse figurine, ripping off a condom and adding it to the pile. Harry's eyes widened.

"What..."

"I'm gonna use it," Louis explained, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his sweats and finally pulling them off. Harry had to breathe deeply. His gaze was fixed on Louis's bobbing erection, his spit-slicked finger starting to pump with a little more urgency. "I'm not going to tell you when," Louis continued, walking over to the bed and crawling up next to Harry. "But after I'm done I'll come find you." He leaned down to whisper. "And you're gonna fuck the shit out of me in a barn."

Harry had gone from semi to fully hard during Louis's little speech, and gasped when Louis gently removed his hand and replaced it with his own tender, searching fingers. He made sure to use plenty of lube, carefully prepping Harry and biting his lip in order to feel a small amount of pain because the way Harry was whining and clenching around him, punching out faint little breaths with each stretch, was almost too much.

"You feel so soft, peaches," Louis said, reverently. "So beautiful."

Harry was beyond protesting. He was writhing, incredibly gorgeous with his curly hair splayed out like a halo around his head, sun dappling him as the breeze played with the lace curtains at the window. "Please, Lou," he moaned. "Please, 'm ready. I need you."

Louis stopped fucking him with his fingers and tore open a condom, quickly rolling it on and lubing himself. Just the touch of his own hand was dangerous, and he hoped for Harry's sake he wouldn't accidentally finish what he hadn't even started. He took a deep breath as he lined himself up, extra gentle as he positioned the head of his cock right at Harry's entrance. He pushed in just a little, felt the breach -- the unbelievable tightness and warmth.

"Okay?" he gasped. His arms were shaking, Harry's back arching and his legs falling open. Louis splayed a hand over the center of Harry's chest as he pushed in further.

"More," Harry chanted. "More, more, Louis, more..."

Louis thrust in to the hilt, feeling his balls settle snugly against Harry's ass, and started to move. Slowly at first, trying not to let his body tremble. White, tingling static was filling him down to his toes, lazy warmth already building in just the right places. But Louis resisted it, not wanting to stop, wanting to have sex with Harry forever in the still dawn light -- or at least until he'd found Harry's prostate and fucked another orgasm out of him. Didn't want to think about what came after that, not yet, and the forbidden nature of what they were doing made it feel even better.

Harry started rolling his hips in time with Louis's thrusts, and they were shaking the bed now, boxspring creaking under them. Finally they found the right angle. "Fuck," Harry gasped, throwing an arm over his head and clutching the side of the mattress as Louis hit his spot over and over. "God, yes," he cried.

"Harry," Louis breathed. He was barely holding it together, felt like he'd been on the edge of an orgasm for years. "You're so gorgeous, I can't --"

He got his hands on Harry's hips to distract himself, his fingers making faint bruises and his thumbs circling the jutting points of Harry's pelvis. He watched Harry's cock bouncing thick on his stomach, an angry shade of red this time. Louis could tell by the tears leaking from the corners of Harry's eyes that it was getting almost too intense, verging on too much. He wrapped a lube-smeared hand around Harry's length and started to jerk him quickly.

"You're close, aren't you?" he whispered. "I am too. Come on, let's come together."

Harry whimpered. Louis saw his pecs flex, the muscles twitching in his arm as he let go with another gasp, spilling onto his belly and Louis's hand. At almost the same instant, Louis finally surrendered to the building rush of heat and came into the condom, filling it with hot spurts that seemed to last forever and were so intense he almost lost consciousness. He felt his body shudder involuntarily over and over again as he rode out his orgasm, making so much noise he would have been embarrassed if he were aware of anything other than the blinding pleasure of it.

Finally he pulled out with a gasp, and collapsed next to Harry on the bed.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, voice scratchy and raw.

"I know," Harry answered. Louis cracked an eye open as Harry turned onto his side and stared down at him in the pale, shimmering light of the new day. "God, I can't believe it. You're amazing. That was... by far the best sex of my life."

Louis thrust his jaw out and preened at that, taking a moment to toss the condom away before pulling Harry down on top of him. "Fucking mutual," he grinned, breathing into Harry's neck.

"Louis, I love you," Harry answered, voice so soft Louis almost didn't catch the words. His breath hitched, heart pounding, not quite sure he'd heard correctly.

Is that too fast? He shrugged internally and pulled Harry closer, wondering whether conventional wisdom about relationships even applied to members of the Styles family. Roy and Rose had been married three weeks after their first dance. Just the thought of that made Louis's blood zip through him, and he couldn't tell if it was from nerves or excitement.

Harry lifted his head and brushed Louis's hair off his brow, studying him with thoughtful green eyes. "Hey, baby," he said, smiling. Maybe teasing a little. "You okay?"

Hey, baby. It sounded so easy. Almost cheesy but not quite, or in the right way.

Louis's chest felt lighter and lighter, until it seemed absurd that he was lying on the bed. He should have been floating up in the air with happiness, bumping against the wood beams across the ceiling. "Yeah," he said, heart nearly bursting with emotion as he grabbed Harry's hand and squeezed. "I'm okay. I'm with you."