Wild and Unruly

Chapter 6

Louis lay awake in bed, blinking slowly and watching the guest room curtains billow away from the window in the cool spring air. He'd expected to drift off after Harry had gotten them tucked in, on account of being so post-coitally boneless and having slept so little over the past seventy-two hours, but even with the heavy, comforting presence of Harry's arm slung over his waist, he couldn't calm his mind. There was one thing in particular that was overshadowing all of Louis's swirling concerns. Try as he might, he couldn't stop dwelling on it, and it was keeping him awake.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when Harry made a grunting sound of amusement and snuggled closer, nuzzling into Louis's neck.

"What?" Louis whispered, shivering in Harry's warmth. He'd had a feeling that Harry wasn't asleep yet either -- something about the set of his muscles against Louis's back and the way he was breathing.

"Can't sleep?" Harry asked in a low hum. He'd hooked his chin over Louis's shoulder, and the words vibrated through Louis's body and made his heart expand.

Together, he thought, thrilling as the realization washed over him. We're together now.

Louis shook his head.

"Me neither," Harry murmured with a smile in his voice. He heaved a deep sigh, stroking Louis's side and trailing several kisses up his jaw before he went on. "Do you wanna go see them, then?"

Louis broke into laughter, flushing with pleasure as he felt Harry join in and shake with it behind him. He grinned as he nodded, glad he and Harry were on the same page.

Sally and Paul... Jolene.

"It's only natural you'd be so worried," Harry said with a hint of teasing condescension in his tone, "being a first-time parent and all." The words came out almost too fast, like Harry was so happy to have an opportunity to wind Louis up that he couldn't keep them inside long enough to get the comedic timing right. He pressed quick kisses into Louis's shoulder and neck as he waited for his response and burst into gleeful and infuriatingly cute giggles when Louis squawked in protest and rolled them over, elbowing Harry in the stomach and then hovering over him once he was flat on his back.

"You brought it up!" Louis shoved at Harry's shoulders, unable to stop grinning. The extent of his happiness was threatening to lift him right off the bed again, float him back up to the ceiling. He gave up his assault easily, letting Harry capture his wrists and tug him down for a sweet, toe-curling kiss.

"Come on," Harry said when they broke apart, squeezing Louis tight and then giving his ass a satisfying slap. "Let's get dressed. Jolene's probably wondering where the hell you've been."

They tugged wellies on over their sweats, Harry bundling Louis into his Carhartt jacket before they headed out the back door. It had been clear overnight, so it was chilly outside, and something about the way the pale sunlight was slanting down on the ranch out of the crisp blue sky made it feel even more like a Sunday to Louis. Like Easter almost, as they made their way over to the outbuildings hand in hand.

"Will they be sleeping?" he whispered, not wanting to disturb the stillness of the morning.

"Probably," Harry said, smiling down at him as they reached the barn.

Louis shivered involuntarily at the change in the air as Harry guided him through the door. It was heavy inside, muggy with the body warmth of the animals and thick with their scent, but not unpleasantly so. Louis snuggled into Harry's jacket as he looked around. He'd only seen the old wooden barn from the outside, only admired its classic silhouette from across the corral, not wanting to venture in and make himself even more of a nuisance. The interior was just as he'd imagined -- thick beams of oak, a hayloft toward the rear, straw all over the place, and horse stalls lining the walls.

They have to replace it, Louis thought, biting on the inside of his cheek as he followed Harry past the horses. The barn was definitely different than most of the modern, metal-sided buildings Louis had seen on the ranches close to the highway. Most of the Lonely Rose's structures seemed to be a little out of date. I wonder if Rosie and Roy built it all... They must have.

"Where're all the cows?" he asked, suddenly confused. There were an awful lot of equine rear ends visible over the tops of the stalls, but Louis couldn't hear a single heifer lowing.

Harry turned back to smile at him. "Over in the calving barn." He had that look on his face he got whenever Louis asked questions about ranching practices, half eager to make a cowboy out of him and half entertained by his ignorance.

Louis's retort about how not everyone grows up knee-deep in cow shit died on his lips as he and Harry turned a corner and came to a stop in front of a large, heavily-bedded pen with a metal railing surrounding it. The two calves were curled into their mother's side in the far corner, the whole family cuddled up, asleep in the straw.

Our calves, Louis thought, his breath catching. The sight of them pierced his heart as he came up to the top rail for a better look. Our cow. Sally and Paul and Jolene.

"Oh for cute," he said with a distressingly teary sigh. These fragile, beautiful little babies, so warm and safe now. Out of danger, perfectly adorable, and Louis was so relieved to see it with his own two eyes.

Why aren't there calf cuteness blogs on the internet? he wondered, his heart twisting again, as Paul nudged his sister's ear with his nose in his sleep. Maybe there are. Maybe I'll start one.

Harry let out a little chuckle as he positioned himself behind Louis, peering at the animals over his shoulder with a welcome hand on one of his hips.

"What?" Louis turned his face to look up at him, surprised to see the familiar line of confusion between Harry's furrowed brows.

"Oh for cute?" Harry asked in pleased disbelief. His dimple was deep, somehow adding to the wryness of his tone.

"Oh." Louis huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes. A touch of embarrassment heated his cheeks at the realization that all it took was the sight of a cow family to turn him into a grandmother from Western Minnesota. "Yeah," he laughed again. "People say that all the time back home --" he cleared his throat, "back -- back in Minnesota."

"Oh for cute?"

"Yeah," Louis insisted, turning back to the animals. "Means like, 'wow that's really cute' or 'how cute is that?' " He could feel Harry looking down at him intently, like he wanted further clarification, and he shrugged, smiling. "It's the shortened form of 'oh for goodness sakes that's cute.' All right?"

"Much more efficient," Harry conceded, highly amused.

Louis glanced up at him again when his gaze still didn't waver, enjoying the view of his jawline from such a close angle. "What?"

Harry shrugged, absolutely glowing and biting his bottom lip over a massive grin. "Oh for cute," he said, not taking his eyes off Louis.

Louis snorted and quickly looked away again, because he had no chance of stopping the bright red blush of pleasure that was blooming on his face. It only intensified when Harry buried his nose in his hair and kissed the crown of his head. "Ridiculous," Louis muttered, while at the same time wondering if he'd ever felt so completely happy before in his whole life.

Harry's laugh rumbled out of him and he pulled back a touch, so he could lift Louis's chin with a gentle finger and stare at him properly. The warmth in his eyes lit up Louis's insides -- they were so open and affectionate, it felt like a silent reiteration of his earlier declaration.

Louis, I love you.

Louis would have waited to say it. Louis would wait to say it back, but having it out in the open already made it feel sort of inevitable. Like maybe it was already the truth. He felt so much for Harry, he didn't know what to do with it all. So he closed his eyes and swallowed thickly before going up on his tiptoes to give Harry a kiss. Everything was so scary and wonderful, all at once.

"Do you wanna go in?" Harry asked, nodding toward the pen after giving Louis a kiss on the cheek in return.

"Can we?"

"Sure."

Harry eased the gate open and they picked their way through the bedding over to the sleeping cattle as quietly as they could. Louis followed Harry's lead, crouching down next to the calves and reaching out to pet them with a tentative hand. There were pieces of straw covering them both.

" 'S a good sign," Harry whispered, gesturing to the bedding on top of them and moving some that he'd disturbed back into place. "She's hiding them." He stroked a hand down Jolene's long flank and continued talking, keeping his voice low. "A lotta times with heifers, after a traumatic birth, they reject the calf."

Louis made a small sound just at the thought, even though he knew he shouldn't be anthropomorphizing quite so much. It was hard.

Harry gave him an apologetic smile, and shrugged. "Especially when they get moved like this, from the birth site after it was so -- so rough, they don't always recognize the baby in a new location..." He lowered a huge hand onto Paul's head, letting it rest there lightly. "But things are looking good. Babies look good, and she's doing so good. Aren't you, lady?"

Louis felt another powerful surge of emotion thinking about everything Jolene had gone through on that hillside and how much had changed since. He closed his eyes against the prickle of tears and stood up, moving around so that he could touch her forehead. He was very gentle, but she stirred anyway, her big, lovely cow eyes slowly blinking open as they adjusted to the light.

"Hey there, beautiful," Louis whispered, still choked up. "I'm so proud of you."

He gave a teary laugh, wiping at his face, when he saw the way Harry was looking at him as he knelt in front of Sally and Paul. His face was full of emotion, love for Louis and Jolene and the calves shining out of it. Louis started to laugh even harder when Harry began to sing to the cow.

"Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Joleeeene. I'm begging of you, please don't take my man..." Harry was still on his knees, hamming it up with his hands clasped over his heart. "Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Joleeeene. Please don't take him just because you can."

He didn't get to his feet as Louis closed the distance between them, shaking his head in delighted exasperation. "Your beauty is beyond compare with flaming locks of auburn hair, with ivory skin and eyes of emerald green..." Louis was breathless with laughter, and he reached out to make a weak attempt at covering Harry's mouth. Harry dodged his head side to side, evading him easily and continuing to sing to Jolene through a giant grin until Louis gave up and just spread one hand out over his face. Harry sang though it, laughing, voice only slightly muffled. "Your smile is like a breath of spring, your voice is soft like summer rain, and I cannot compete with you, Jolene."

Harry beamed up at Louis as he finished, his hands coming to rest on Louis's hips. Louis was elated, so filled with joy it almost felt like delirium.

"You can't compete, huh?" he asked, stroking Harry's curls back from his forehead.

Harry shrugged, his eyes twinkling. "Well, she's already borne you two children."

Louis threw his head back and cackled, pushing at Harry's strong shoulders in objection. "They're just as much yours as they are mine," he said, rolling his eyes and giving Harry a pointed look. "Don't think I don't know you're going to favor Sally, Harry; she got your nose."

Harry let out a full-bodied chuckle and then looped his arms fully around Louis's waist, pulling him in so he could press his face into Louis's belly through the Carhartt jacket. Louis's heart constricted powerfully, wrenching in his chest. Heady, intoxicating happiness crested inside him, the most intense it had been since Harry had come back to the ranch from Niall's. It made his skin heat up and his extremities tingle, his pulse pounding. The words were right on the tip of his tongue. Right there. He felt so much for Harry. He wanted so much with him. But there was fear surging up inside him too, as the strength of his emotion forced him to acknowledge the precariousness of their situation for the first time since they'd gotten out of bed.

I can't do my job anymore. Not when things are like this. Not when this is how it will be. Now that we're --

"I'm..." he whispered. He pulled Harry's head away from his body slightly, so he could look down into his face again. "I'm going to have to tell your mother, Harry. That -- that we're together, now. I should disclose what's going on..."

Harry's lips twitched into a smile upon hearing Louis say that they were together out loud, and Louis felt a corresponding zip of happiness run through his heart.

"Okay," Harry whispered, clambering slowly to his feet and dusting the straw off his knees. "I mean. I could say someth--"

"No," Louis said, holding up a hand to cut him off. "No, I want to do it. It's my responsibility."

"All right," Harry said, reeling Louis into a tight, comforting hug. They stood together for a minute just breathing each other in, Louis's head resting on Harry's chest.

Louis sighed, and suddenly felt weighed down by his exhaustion, dead on his feet. Like everything had caught up with him all at once.

"Sleep?"

Harry nodded.

They bent down to say goodbye to the cattle, giving each cow one last pet and a kiss and their love, and then headed over to the ranch house to climb back into bed. This time, Louis was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

*

Louis blinked awake at some point in the evening with the sort of satisfied, bone-deep heaviness in his limbs that creeps in during a long sleep. He'd needed the rest, and so had Harry. But when he rolled over, the other side of the bed was cold, torn sheet of legal pad paper crinkling under him. The feeling of extra weight fled from his body in an instant, replaced by a sudden rush of adrenaline.

Beyoncé is in labor!

There were big, dorky hearts drawn all around the neatly-lettered words. Louis smiled and sucked in a breath as he pressed the piece of paper against his chest, warmth flooding through him. He felt as though he'd been hooked up to an electric main. A jittery finger traced what Harry had written, and Louis imagined him waking with bleary green eyes to a text from one of the ranch hands, sneaking out of bed, anxious to get out to the barn but taking the time to pen the message carefully, without scribbling.

Harry Styles loves me. Louis gulped, heart rabbiting in his chest. He felt the humming energy kick up a notch, a surge of emotion bursting out from his core to the tips of his toes. He wondered where his nerves were coming from, the shakiness in his fingertips. I'm not scared of loving him, he thought, stubbornly, his thumb grazing over the corner of Harry's note, curling it under as he stared at the words. I'm not. But there was a veil of dread hanging over the evening anyway, a sort of hollow, dry ache in his chest. Oh, God, he thought, as his sleep-slow brain finally caught up with his hyperalert body. I'm scared of Anne Twist.

That was it. The source of the tight, twisting anxiety that was snaking its way through all the rest of the positive emotion in his chest. Louis had to call her. Of course he had to; he'd already made the decision. He was just -- just scared.

"Fuck," he whispered. He pressed his thumbnail into the corner of the note, fraying the edge until it became a soft yellow smudge against his skin. "Come on. You can do it. You can."

He forced himself out of his bed and into the bathroom. He could hear Mrs. Burden doing the laundry down the hall and a truck's engine revving outside, tires crunching in the gravel drive. Bonnie put up a loud bray. Some wranglers were eating in the kitchen, drawling male voices and the clink of silverware on plates. All the normal sounds of the ranch house on a Sunday evening. Normal, Louis thought, bouncing on his toes as he washed his face, sky darkening like a bruise in the window to his right. When did I start thinking of this as normal? He tried to remember what it had been like his first few days, when he had been perpetually grumpy and out of place, but he couldn't conjure up the memory of the feeling anymore.

Louis took longer in the bathroom than was strictly necessary to get ready for a phone call. He stared at himself in the mirror as he halfheartedly tried to fix his bedhead, full of nervous tension, his stomach churning with increasing unease. He tried to remind himself of all the reasons why he had to call Anne Twist, why it was the right thing to do, even though he knew it was going to be a supremely unpleasant conversation for both of them. He ended up giving himself a little mental pep talk about ethics and professionalism. Part of him didn't want to believe it was necessary, but he still remembered how impossible it had all seemed back in Denver, watching the other couples dance and thinking that it could never be him and Harry. Everything was still just as impossible now, the entire situation. By the time Louis opened the door and slipped back down the hallway to Harry's office, the tips of his fingers were numb and his throat felt oddly stiff when he tried to swallow.

Should I offer to quit? he wondered, breaking out into a cold sweat as he flicked on the lamp and eyed Harry's telephone. Or should I let her fire me?

The worst part was not knowing how bad it was. Or how soon he'd have to go back to Denver. He didn't want to leave, not now... Fuck. Just the thought of it was like a punch to the gut.

Louis shook his head, steeling himself, feeling like his body was cracking open with nerves as he reached for the phone. Anne's cell number was written on a Post-It along with other important contacts, taped to the wall just below the bookshelf, and his finger shook as he pushed the old-fashioned buttons on the base of the telephone, hearing the different electronic tones in the receiver.

He tried to calm the flutter in his stomach, and hadn't succeeded by the time Anne picked up on the second ring.

"Harry?"

"Um..." Louis started, his voice cracking. Great, he thought, good start. A-plus. "It's Louis actually. Uh, Louis Tomlinson? The paralegal you sent to Wyoming about National Energy Group's land purchase, which you know, of -- of course, you know that. And before you say anything," he continued, clearing his throat quickly and barrelling on, "Yes, Harry and I are together." His nerves spiked, the immensely awkward premise of the phone call causing him to begin to over-explain. "We weren't before the benefit. Now we are. You must have guessed, but..." He began to pick at the plastic phone cord, not wanting to hear Anne answer him, scared of what she was going to say. His hands were shaking. "Now I'm, uh, disclosing our relationship. Together. Officially."

Louis almost couldn't breathe, his artless, half-stammered words ringing in his ears.

There was a pause, and then Anne began to speak. Her smooth, assured voice only made Louis feel more nervous. "Mr. Tomlinson, I --"

"I don't want to lose my job," Louis cut in. "Because I love my job. I really do." What the fuck are you doing, you idiot, stop talking. He couldn't stop himself, though, had to let it all out in one big embarrassing word-dump. "I'd do almost anything to not be fired right now," he went on, "but if you're about to tell me to use my influence over Harry to get him to sign the deed, no. I will not be doing that. I'm of no use to you!" He let out a half-hysterical laugh as he punctuated the statement with a nervous flutter of his hand.

"Mr. Tom--"

"Selling that land would break his heart," Louis interrupted, "and that is the last thing I want to happen. The last thing. I'm -- I'm in love with him."

Louis felt almost faint, head pounding as he realized with a belated lurch in his tight chest that he'd actually said it out loud. "I love him," he repeated, voice faint and shaky. Just to hear the truth of it. Harry Styles. Harry Styles. God.

Anne let out a low sigh. "Mr. Tomlinson," she said after a long, tense moment. "I'm afraid I didn't hear any of that." Louis's heart sank. "It's so difficult to get a solid connection out there..." He almost groaned with frustration, digging the heel of his hand into one of his eyes as he thought bitterly about having to repeat his whole speech.

"I can only assume," she went on, her crisp words reverberating through the receiver with perfect clarity, "that what you've been trying to say is that you'd like to take your two week vacation. Paid vacation, to which you are entitled as an employee of this company."

Louis sputtered for a second, eyes blinking open again in surprise.

"You can go anywhere you want, of course," Anne said. "Do whatever. Have fun." Louis's breath caught in his throat, the knot of dread in his chest softening as he heard the tone of her voice. It sounded like she was trying not to laugh, or to sound affectionate, and was struggling a little with both. "And in two weeks, we can discuss that thing I didn't hear."

Louis felt on the verge of tears all of a sudden. Wonderful, temporary relief flooded through him.

"Ms. Twist," he began, "thank --"

"What's that?" she said. "Louis? You're fading out again."

Then the line went dead. Louis held the receiver away from his ear for a moment and just stared at it, as if he expected it to explain to him what had just happened. Then he gave a soft, hiccuping laugh and dropped it down into the cradle, limbs feeling lighter than air.

He wandered out into the dining room, where the pendant lights above the long table cast a warm glow on Paul, Hank and Niall. They were sitting, eating some of the perpetually available chili Mrs. Burden kept in a slow cooker on the counter during calving season and having an animated discussion about the betting pool.

"You can't switch," Niall said, flatly, staring at Hank. "It's already in my phone."

Hank sat forward, hitching up his pants, and pointed a thick finger back at Niall. "Well I just don't remember betting on Beyoncé," he said, his western twang becoming even more pronounced. "I specifically said Angela Davis. I said Angela and I meant Angela." He looked like he was two seconds away from calling Niall "son" in a patronizing manner.

Niall rolled his eyes. "How convenient," he muttered, whipping out his phone with a stormy expression on his face and punching into the Notes app.

"What's going on?" Louis asked. He drew a hand through his hair as he walked up to the bench, sliding in next to Niall and stealing a slice of chili-spattered cheddar cheese off the side of his bowl. The slight spiciness tickled his tongue pleasantly.

Niall snorted and thumbed across the table at Hank. "This bastard bet on Beyoncé to be the last heifer to go into labor. Now Harry's out there delivering her calf, and he's trying to wiggle his way out of it! See?" He passed his phone to Louis, where the words Hank -- Beyoncé -- last to go were clearly catalogued near the top of a long list of bets.

Hank pushed his empty bowl away, crossing his arms casually across his broad chest as he rocked back in his seat. "Who's wigglin'?" he scoffed. "I told you to put me down for Angela Davis."

"Unbelievable!" Niall shouted. He had an almost crazed expression on his face, his eyes wide with the injustice of it all as he whipped his head around to Paul, whose shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. "Every year," he griped. He turned to back to Louis. "He does this every year! He's so goddamn cheap."

"Not my fault you always hear me wrong," Hank shrugged.

"Hear you wrong my ass," Niall said under his breath.

Hank smiled with satisfaction as Niall angrily changed the bet in his phone, and Louis couldn't help the low giggle that bubbled up from his chest. He squeezed Niall's shoulder in solidarity.

"Next year I'm getting it witnessed," Niall said. "Louis's a notary republic; he can notarize it!"

A crazy grin spread across Louis's face at Niall's casual assumption that he would still be around next calving season. He tried to keep it to himself and ended up just staring down at his hands, smiling like a loon as the rest of the conversation washed over him. Then he heard the rusty rasp of the screen door closing down the hall, and his heart spiked. It had to be Harry.

"Healthy male calf," he announced, in his his low, rumbling voice. He sounded tired, but proud. The wranglers clapped and whistled and Louis turned around, craning his neck to look at him. Harry had on dirty jeans and his hair was tied back, hands still damp and newly-washed. He smiled when he caught sight of Louis.

"Hey," Louis said, so softly that he almost mouthed the word. He could feel the other men watching them, Niall's eyes flicking back and forth between them, and he knew his own expression must be giving everything away.

Harry came over, Louis's stomach fluttering with each step, and dropped his hands onto Louis's shoulders like a heavy, comfortable weight. He began to massage them. "Hey, babe," he answered, hunching down to whisper it in his ear as he moved his hands over to squeeze the sides of his arms. "You called her? Everything all right?"

Louis turned his head and nodded, and for a moment it felt like they had put up a screen, created a private little space for themselves even as the others looked on. "Tell you later," he murmured, smiling softly.

Harry dropped a tiny kiss to his nose. "Okay."

"Yes," he said in a slightly louder, slightly smug voice as he straightened up, pulling Louis back just a touch so that his head bumped against Harry's stomach. Louis stifled a laugh; Harry sounded like a teacher addressing a room full of curious students. "Yes, Niall Horan, the nature of our relationship has changed since you last saw us."

Niall's hands were clasped together over his heart like he just couldn't contain himself, and it made Louis feel inexplicably happy. He was practically vibrating with excitement on the bench, grinning so widely at the pair of them that it looked like his face might split in two. He reminded Louis of how Bonnie looked whenever she was about to ram her head into someone with joy.

"That's... That's the best!" Niall said, finally, all complaints about Hank's bet forgotten as he dropped his phone onto the table with a clatter and stood up to embrace them both awkwardly. "Congrats! Oh boy, I've gotta call Mags."

"I called her on my way back from the barn," Harry said, with a grin.

"Boo!" Niall's maniac smile morphed instantly into a frown. "How come you always tell her the good stuff first?"

"I didn't tell her!" Harry's hands went up in a gesture of innocence. "She figured it out on her own! She was like, 'Bullshit, Harry, you aren't just calling me about a calf.' " He snorted as he tried to impersonate her voice, doing a poor job of it. He casually slid one of his hands over to play at the nape of Louis's neck, running his thumb right up the back of it and making him shiver. " 'I know what this is really about. You can't fool me.' " Both Harry and Niall were smiling down at him now, and Louis squirmed a little with pleasure at being the center of attention.

Niall tapped the side of his head with a finger. "My wife," he said. "Very smart. Very perceptive." Harry snorted again.

Hank and Paul stood up to go do the two-hour check of all the pregnant cows, clapping Harry on the back on their way out and giving Louis friendly nods of approval. Niall bolted down the rest of his chili and followed them. Harry and Louis were alone in the darkened dining room.

"I'm taking my two weeks of vacation time," Louis said, grabbing Harry's forearm and using it to pull himself up off the bench. Harry's left shoulder went down with an oof, and he sighed with contentment as Louis immediately wrapped himself tightly around his middle, burying his head in his chest. "Your mom said we can talk about it after that." Louis felt his heart skip a beat as he ran his hands up over the strong muscles in Harry's back, taking in the lingering scent of hay and scattered raindrops and sweat. Thunder drummed in the distance, another storm.

"Really?" Harry asked. He started to sway them a little, walking them into the kitchen and toward the slow cooker full of chili. His hands were linked, resting on Louis's back just above the swell of his bum.

"Yup," he said. "Her specific words were 'have fun.' "

Louis felt rather than heard the low laugh that started in Harry's belly and made its way slowly up to his shoulders. "She said that?" Harry seemed amused by his mother but was also hunching in on himself, cringing slightly, as if he were a little embarrassed at the thought of her having indirectly referenced sex in a conversation with Louis. He let a tight laugh out of his throat. "God, Mom."

Louis just giggled, and let Harry rock him back against the counter. "I think it's a good idea," he shrugged. "If you're up for it."

Harry groaned, nuzzling into Louis's neck like he was seeking comfort. "I wish it weren't calving season." It was then that Louis noticed the tiredness in his limbs, the way they were draped around him and holding on only loosely. Harry's shoulders had that particular set some people acquire when they know they have long, hard work ahead of them without many breaks. Louis had seen it before in new parents and corporate interns.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Bad timing, huh?"

Harry nodded. Louis heard his stomach growl and felt his body sag even more. He tapped Harry twice on the ass and stood him up.

"You're having chili in bed," he said.

Harry frowned. "The sheets..."

"Screw the sheets. You need to lie down and you need food. Then I'm going to massage you, naked. Full-body massage." He dug his fingers into Harry's sides, just below his armpits, and gave him a little, tickling preview that caused Harry to shoot up straight at last. "Get going," Louis said, and turned to gather napkins and a bowl.

He even managed to find a wooden tray and a thermos for Harry's milk, so that he wouldn't have to deal with a full, unlidded glass of it. When he carried it to Harry's room, nudging the door open with his foot, he was surprised to see that it was empty, the bed still neatly made. A touch of confusion furrowing his brow, he scurried back down the hall to peek into the guest room.

Harry was lying in a little nest of Louis's bedclothes, quilt wrapped around his shoulders and his mouth open in a light doze. Louis tiptoed in and set the food on the nightstand.

He gazed at Harry for a moment, his slow-talking cowboy, soft in the light of the lamp. He felt his heart well up with feeling. "I love you," he whispered.

Harry stirred, blinking awake. "Mmm... what?"

Louis bent down and kissed him on the side of his mouth, fingers running through his loose, curly hair. "I love you," he said.

"I love you, too." Harry smiled sleepily, and Louis could see a shiver run through him. He scooted up to the headboard, drawing Louis in under one of his arms as he reached for the chili.

"Why aren't you in your own room?" Louis asked.

He felt Harry shrug as he balanced the tray on his knees. "It's nice in here, I guess. Smells like you."

Louis snuggled closer into his side.

"And the sheets are only 180 thread count, so I don't care if I spill."

"Fuck off!" Louis pinched Harry's abs lightly to feel them flinch and kissed his shoulder.

Then he lay his head on it as he watched Harry wolf down his dinner, stealing bites every so often and listening to Harry tell him about Beyoncé's new calf. He had a shaggy, tawny coat, bright eyes and a lot of energy, apparently. Harry laughed softly as he described the calf's first steps, taken too fast and too eagerly. "Fell face-first right into her udder," Harry grinned. "Good aim."

After the tray was set aside, Louis rolled Harry over onto his stomach and stripped his clothes off. When they were both finally naked, he straddled Harry and stared for a long moment at the pale, gorgeous expanse of his back. Harry wiggled his bum impatiently, almost unseating him, and Louis could see the hint of his smile where it was pressed into the pillow. He shifted positions, clamping his thighs down tightly on either side of Harry's hips.

"Steady, girl," he whispered, and Harry snorted with sudden laughter.

"Please," he giggled. "Come on."

Louis started to knead Harry's muscles, listening to him moan and sigh with pleasure beneath him, and tried not to pay attention to the slow drag of his cock along Harry's crack. It began to fatten up anyway, standing out from his body, the tip of it tracing over Harry's skin as he leaned forward to put some weight into his circular strokes. He knew Harry could feel it, knew when he reached down to adjust himself that it was getting him worked up. Louis ignored the situation for a while, focused on easing out the knots in Harry's shoulders, rubbing and pressing kisses down his spine.

Eventually Harry let out a particularly frustrated groan and flipped over, pulling Louis down onto his chest. They kissed each other deeply, Harry with low, appreciative moans. His wandering hand found Louis's cock and began to jerk it slowly and very deliberately.

"Big hands," Louis moaned, smirking for a moment before his mouth dropped open a touch, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure. "Oh, Harry..." Big, warm hands.

Harry continued his torturously lazy rhythm, letting Louis rock on top of him, face buried in his neck. Louis was useless, not even sucking a mark there but just breathing hotly as Harry took him right up to the edge of orgasm. His hand was wonderful -- somehow calm and steadying even as Louis felt himself getting physically warmer, squirming and panting and losing control. It was both grounding him in reality and grinding him into dust, and Louis felt torn apart in the best, most beautiful way. Then, when he was just a few seconds from coming, from finally dropping off the edge into mind-numbing bliss, he felt Harry's fingers loosen. He began to stroke Louis with a feather-light touch, his fingertips only barely grazing Louis's shaft.

Louis began to tremble. "Babe," he whispered, lifting his head and staring into Harry's dark eyes.

"I was so scared," Harry said. He made Louis shudder with his next gentle touch, sparks of pleasure bursting through nerves he'd never felt before.

Louis couldn't do more than gasp, and hope that Harry saw the question in his eyes. The concern that he felt beating right in the center of his heart even though he needed to come so badly he thought he might explode with it.

"I was scared you'd have to go back to Denver tomorrow," Harry clarified, smile twitching his lips as Louis nodded and moaned, rocking forward to plant a little kiss on his brow. "And you'd promise to come visit, but eventually we'd drift apart. You'd forget about me. The ranch..."

"No." Louis felt the word rip out of his throat. He shook his head vehemently, and he could feel how hot he was all over now -- he'd broken out in a sweat. God, it felt like it had been years since he'd been one hard tug away from orgasm, and Harry was still teasing, using his thumb to softly massage drops of precome out of Louis's slit. Louis's limbs were jelly, and he was quivering all over, unable to think clearly. But he knew this. He knew the answer to this. "Never," he said. He shook his head again. "That would never happen."

"You sure?" Harry asked softly. He heaved himself into a sitting position, gathering Louis up into his arms and petting his hair. "Because it's easy to say that. I mean, I would understand. I know it's -- it's not ideal for someone like you. Me being so... so inflexible. I've already made my life out here, and..."

"I'm telling you I'd miss it," Louis said. He was starting to calm down, head a bit clearer even though he could still feel the fire edging over his skin. He kissed Harry once on the mouth and stared into his eyes. "I'd miss all of it if I had to leave."

Harry nodded, a different sort of smile playing over his lips now -- shyer, because it was more hopeful. "Okay then," he whispered.

"I love you," Louis said. He didn't stop to think as Harry put his big, rough hands on him again, didn't consider that there were things he would miss in Denver, too. Zayn, for one. Hopkins-Harrington going to trial, for another. Then there was law school...

He let Harry bring them both off with a few hard, feverish strokes, let himself curl up next to him, holding him as his breaths slowly evened out, and didn't remember that any of it existed.

*

Every day that week, Louis woke up alone in bed. Calving season was in full swing now, the busiest time of year at the ranch, and everyone was working around the clock. Harry had set up his own bedroom as a dormitory for the ranch hands, with blankets and air mattresses and extra toothbrushes in his ensuite. Every conversation was about which cows were dilated or which calves needed new bedding, coffee was flowing freely and Harry was perpetually tired but joyful, like his soul was being nourished even as he was pushing his body to work hard. Niall put up a big whiteboard in the dining room to keep track of all the new calves, and meals generally included light squabbling about the names -- Dorothy Parker or Hermione Granger, Alan Turing or Jackie Chan, whether naming calves after tennis players with good calves was a good idea or not (an overtired Roby insisting that it definitely was). There was always someone trudging in from the heifers' barn or the nearby pasture, exhausted and ready for a shower, a bowl of chili and a nap.

This was the part of calving season Louis got to see on Monday and Tuesday. The backstage scene changes, the downtime that felt like it was borrowed time before another big push began. Harry allowed himself the luxury of staying off nights, and came in at sundown every evening to wrap himself around Louis in the shower.

"Mmm, baby," Harry moaned, already drowsy, as Louis washed his hair for him. "Feels so good."

Louis dug his fingers in, sighing a little in relief at finally getting to touch Harry again after a long day of missing him. He just wanted to breathe him in, his apple-scented shampoo and his vanilla soap, mold his body into Harry's and stay under the warm water forever.

"I feel like now that you're my boyfriend, I'm seeing you less than ever," Louis said.

"Can't be helped," Harry frowned, before turning around and gathering Louis in. Their warm, naked skin felt so good together, Louis almost started to cry. "Boyfriend," he smiled, pressing a kiss to Louis's temple.

"I know," Louis said, reaching up and continuing to massage Harry's wet, foamy curls. He smiled at the way Harry's jaw went slightly slack with pleasure, his eyebrows stormy as he tugged harder and scratched at his scalp. "I'm dating a cow midwife," he shrugged. "It's the path I've chosen."

Harry giggled. "God, that feels amazing," he said. "And I know, too." He rubbed one of his big hands down Louis's side to squeeze at his hip. "I feel the same way, I promise."

"Well," Louis said, placing a hand over Harry's eyes to protect them as he gently dipped his head back into the spray of water and began to rinse out the shampoo, "I was just thinking that maybe... If, you know, you thought it was a good idea..." Louis felt a weird jangle of nerves as Harry squinted an eye open at him. "I could help out a bit with the calving? Spend more time with you. I'm a fast learner."

Harry blinked his eyes open all the way, breaking into a huge grin as he leaned down to kiss Louis on the mouth. His hands took a hard hold of Louis's biceps, his tongue insistent on the seam of his lips and Louis yielded, with a flash of heat low in his belly at how dominant Harry was being. After a minute or so of burning, unchaste kisses, Louis managed to push Harry off and catch his breath. "Christ," he muttered, smiling as he blinked a couple droplets of water off his eyelashes, "you must really need the help."

Harry let out a noise that was halfway between a snort and a whimper. "Have you really not noticed yet how much it turns me on when you want to learn about ranch stuff?" He was gazing at Louis darkly, completely serious.

Louis let out a half-surprised laugh, feeling his eyebrows dart up. "Like when you taught me how to lasso?"

"Jesus." Harry shifted his weight, running a hand through his hair as he looked Louis up and down pointedly. "That was traumatic. I thought I was going to die."

Louis bit his lip over a grin and mock-pushed Harry's bare chest. "Ridiculous. Ridiculous, Styles."

Harry leaned into his touch, waggling his eyebrows. "Maybe you could hold some rope again for me, sometime." He paused, and then added, "Oh for hot."

"Shut up!" Louis laughed, feeling his body settle into a flirty stance, and he knew his eyes were shining.

The rest of the week was spent in the barn, where Louis was put to work as a go-fetch, hauling in food and fresh bedding, mucking out the old and occasionally assisting Harry, Paul, or Dr. Christine with a birth. It was hard, occasionally unpleasant work, but it was worth it to be around Harry all day, to experience what he was experiencing. Louis slowly became an expert at the little jobs, like mixing mineral-rich grain in with the cows' feed and handling the heavy manure fork. He was tired, dirty, and so happy to be helping that he couldn't keep a smile off his face. Breaks were spent with Jolene and the calves, snapping pictures and recording more video than his phone could store.

And every night, he and Harry laid each other out in the guest bedroom and gave each other a thorough massage before sucking each other off.

*

The YMCA in Sheridan was a squat, unappealing building sandwiched between the library and the junior high school, right in the middle of town. Its brick seemed to be the exact same shade of burnt sienna as the Y in Long Prairie, and Louis was stewing in unpleasant memories of his high school lifeguarding days when Harry pulled the F150 into the parking lot.

"We're going to one of the gyms," Harry said, laughing at Louis's expression and rolling his eyes fondly as he killed the engine, "not the pool."

Louis had been a little disappointed earlier in the week when Harry had informed him that he was registered to participate in the 64th Annual Cowtown Hoedown on Saturday afternoon, and asked if Louis wanted to come along. As appealing as the idea of watching Harry square dance was, and as much as he was enjoying helping Harry out around the ranch, Louis was exhausted, and it meant they wouldn't be getting that precious time off together all to themselves. His heart had sunk, even though he wanted to support Harry.

If he'd thought he'd be able to mask his initial reaction, he was immediately proven wrong, because Harry had let out an a sympathetic snort, pulling Louis into a tight hug and promising it wouldn't be that bad or go too late. He'd been humoring Louis over the past several days too, fondly listening to his many YMCA horror stories (most of which involved overflowing diapers, not near-drowning incidents) to give him a way of venting his frustration over the situation.

"I guarantee the entire building smells like chlorine anyway," Louis grumped now, unbuckling his seat belt. He lost a fight against a smile when Harry's laughter brightened in response, and they met over the console for a kiss.

"You gonna be okay in there?" Harry asked with a glint of amusement in his eye. He settled a hand on the back of Louis's neck, slotting his strong thumb in right behind his jaw and rubbing gently.

Louis made a helpless sound of happiness at the warm touch and nodded slowly, his eyelids fluttering. He might have been mildly disgruntled about having to share, but he was still glad to be with Harry, wherever he was. Despite complaining about YMCAs all week, he'd repeatedly reassured Harry that he really did want to come, teasing him about how it would be a tragedy to miss something that was actually called "the Cowtown Hoedown."

"I'll be fine," he sighed wearily, as though he were such a trooper, before giving Harry an impish smile. "Still think there should be free t-shirts, though."

Harry scoffed out a laugh and then kissed Louis on the forehead before they hopped down out of the truck. "Well, I guess you should just lead the committee next year, Mr. Big Ideas."

Louis grinned, his cheeks hot like they always seemed to get whenever someone implied he would still be around in the future. He gave Harry a bit of a once-over as they started heading toward the building's front doors. "I guess I should..." he drawled, his eyes still lingering on Harry's long frame in an exaggeratedly lascivious way. He raised his brows twice. "I know exactly what to put on the promotional posters."

Harry cackled in delight, but still preened a little under Louis's appreciative gaze, squaring his shoulders and smoothing his hand down the white silk scarf that was knotted around his neck. Louis felt a surge of attraction and affection that was so strong he had to ball up his fists to keep from pushing Harry back into the Ford and demanding they return to the ranch immediately and go straight to bed. He was clad in a beautiful, pale green western-style shirt with mother of pearl snaps and roses embroidered on the shoulders and the cuffs of the sleeves, and had tucked his nicest black skinny jeans into cowboy boots that were so finely crafted they might have cost more than Louis's first car. He always seemed to have an extra-special glow when he felt that he'd gotten his outfit just right, and that was certainly the case this afternoon. Louis couldn't stop staring. Couldn't stop loving him for it.

God, he thought, his heart too big in his chest as Harry opened the door and guided him into the YMCA. Obviously he has the perfect outfit for this. Obviously. How can I ever get enough of him?

They both started to smile as they entered the lobby and the faint, familiar scent of chlorine wafted over them.

"It's only 'cause the pool's right there," Harry pointed out, nodding toward the large observation windows at the far end of the entry space, past the vending machines. "It, like, permeates the glass."

"Oh, is that your scientific opinion?"

"Highly scientific," Harry said, placing a hand on Louis's lower back and leading him down the hallway in the opposite direction. "We're going way over to the other side of the building, anyway. It'll be all Old Spice and hair spray, don't you worry."

The hoedown was actually a weekend-long event, but things had been too busy at the Lonely Rose for Harry to attend when the festivities had kicked off the night before. Dancing for the day was already in progress when they finally slipped into the gym, music bouncing off the high, boxy walls with a tinny echo. A middle-aged man in a far less well-fitting version of Harry's outfit stood on a platform at one end of the room and gave the call.

"Chain across... Chain those ladies right back home..."

They stayed on the periphery and watched, Harry's head bopping in time to the music along with the flounce of the ladies' crinoline skirts. Every so often his hand flexed on Louis's back, like he was leading him through the square dance steps in his mind.

"Allemande left, come back with a do-si-do..."

Louis couldn't help but smile, looking around. A bank of the old wooden bleachers that lined one wall had been pulled out for the small amount of spectators, and he quickly spotted Liam Payne among them. Long tables covered in waxy, checkered cloth and the occasional vase of plastic flowers had been set up, presumably for the spaghetti dinner that was going to be served in an hour or so. Almost everyone was in their finest square dancing attire. Louis was glad Harry had forced him to wear one of his shirts, even though it was much too big.

"Look at this turnout!" Harry whispered, glancing down at Louis with bright eyes and squeezing his shoulders in excitement. "Dottie told me we had almost a third more people sign up to eat this year!"

Louis smiled wider and shifted in place, his heart lurching. Whenever he thought he couldn't possibly find Harry Styles more endearing, he was proven wrong. Despite the fairly sizable smattering of children dancing, the average age of the Cowtown Hoedown participants seemed to be somewhere around seventy, and Harry couldn't have looked happier about it.

"There she is!" Harry said after a break was announced at the end of the song. A large woman with tightly-curled gray hair made a beeline over to them from across the dance floor and pulled Harry into a quick hug.

"So this is your young man, Harry?" she asked, smiling at Louis when they pulled apart. A happy thrill shot down Louis's spine when Harry slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

"Yes, it is," Harry said, the evident pride in his voice making Louis blush. "This is my boyfriend, Louis Tomlinson." He beamed down at Louis. "Louis, this is Dottie Llewellyn, my next door neighbor."

"Nice to meet you," Louis said, recognition washing over him as they shook hands. From what he'd heard of the Llewellyns during his time at the Lonely Rose, he'd gotten the sense that the Styleses had a bit of a friendly rivalry with them. The families were apparently even closer than he'd suspected, judging from the way Dottie was looking back and forth between the two of them with the playful, appraising eyes of a mischievous aunt.

A great-aunt, Louis thought. He'd always pegged the Llewellyns as having been around the same age as Rosie and Roy, but Dottie wasn't exactly what he'd expected, physically. If she was over eighty, she was in incredible shape -- robust in a broad, soft-bodied sort of way, and taller than he'd imagined. The sharp-minded air of authority she projected was no surprise, though, and when she arched a critical brow at Harry's description of her as his "next door neighbor," Louis started to laugh.

"Forgive me," Harry snorted in response, rolling his eyes good-naturedly before he tried again with a hand over his heart. "Louis, this is Dottie Llewellyn, one of my family's oldest friends and a truly important role model in my life with regard to the development of my character and my expert skills as a rancher."

It was Dottie's turn to roll her eyes, but she let out a rumbling laugh as well. "Much better, you smart aleck." She turned to Louis and leaned in like she was about to disclose a secret. "You probably noticed by now, but Harry thinks he's quite the comedian, just like his grandma."

"Yes, I have noticed," Louis said sagely, chuckling as he gave Harry's hand a couple of pats. "You are hilarious, dear."

Harry was shaking his head but laughing along with Louis and Dottie. His happiness over getting to introduce them was apparent on his beautiful, flushed face, and Louis got another heart-lurching thrill from seeing it, love tingling out to his fingertips. He had to stop patting Harry's hand so that he could hold on and squeeze, pressing even closer to his side. He'd been so caught up in the little world of the Lonely Rose that it hadn't fully dawned on him that this would be their debut as a public couple.

Out with my boyfriend, Harry Styles, he thought, staring down at their hands as nervous exhilaration filled his body and made his heart pound. At the Cowtown Hoedown.

"Well, it's lovely to finally meet you, Louis," Dottie went on, Louis murmuring his agreement before she turned back to Harry. "You gonna dance the next one with me, then? Art's already getting antsy."

Harry nodded. He'd explained to Louis that he'd be partnering with Dottie for most of the night, since her husband Arthur preferred to give the call whenever he got the chance, and her son Dougie always used calving season as an excuse to get out of coming. Louis had reluctantly agreed to participate for at least one song during the beginners round later in the evening, even though all of his previous experiences with square dancing were from elementary school PE. (Louis'd always gotten paired up with Ashley Larsen, who hated him and constantly had a runny nose.)

"All right, I'll go let him know," Dottie said, peering around the room as she looked for her husband. She glanced down at her watch. "See you in a bit..."

They spent the next five or ten minutes milling around the gym, Harry guiding Louis everywhere and introducing him to so many expectant faces he could barely keep track of names. It was a little overwhelming, but Harry kept Louis close, a comforting hand never straying too far from his lower back.

"Prepare to be amazed!" Harry said, once Art Llewellyn announced that the dancing would begin again momentarily. He walked Louis over to the bleachers and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Louis started to laugh as he settled in next to Liam on a bench a few rows up. "Don't get too nervous. I know it's a lot of pressure, me being in the crowd."

Harry just grinned, puffing out his chest. "I think you'll find I thrive under pressure, and delight in an audience," he said primly, nodding hello to Liam before he walked away. He cast Louis bright-eyed glances over his shoulder until he reached Dottie.

"You guys're officially together then?" Liam asked, by way of greeting, smiling at Louis and sitting forward so he could clap him on the knee.

"Yeah," Louis chuckled, patting Liam right back, "but I'm only telling you because of our official friendship."

"What an honor."

They fell quiet as the music began, Art's voice coming out through the speakers loud and clear. "Now, bow to your partner... Bow to your corner... Join hands and circle left for a little while!" The dancers were in motion. Louis was laughing right away, because of course Harry was thriving. He was completely committed to giving it his enthusiastic all, shining like a bright beacon of not-quite-perfect technique. It was wonderful.

The acoustics of the gym were such that they could talk without being a distraction to the dancers, so Louis leaned into Liam and said, "Harry's a bit of a show-off, huh?"

"Yeah," Liam laughed in agreement. "A real character. It's the best."

"Is your wife dancing?" Louis asked, suddenly curious.

"Oh, nope," Liam said, smiling, "she's got a shift at the hospital this weekend." He pointed to the square that was second-closest to them, made up entirely of children, all of whom were completely adorable in their dancing outfits. "That's my son, Jake, in the blue," his smile widened, "with the curls."

"He's good!" Louis said, impressed as the six-year-old followed the calls in time and with a bit of flair.

"Yeah, he is!" Liam said, clearly proud. They watched for a little while in silence before Liam spoke again, his tone thoughtful. "You know, he might not be dancing at all, if Harry wasn't such a show-off..."

Louis gave him a quizzical look, and Liam chuckled. "Just, Jake was all excited about dance class. He wanted to do tap and ballet and I dunno what they call it? Modern Interpretive? But then some of the other boys in his kindergarten class were teasing him about it. About the girly costumes --" He rolled his eyes. "Can you believe that stuff starts so young?"

Louis shook his head, sighing. "Terrible."

"Yep, it is. Anyway, I was tellin' Harry about it at the saloon, and he told me he'd started up the Jeans and Queens square dancing club again, since he got back to town. Said they had free beginner lessons for all ages that should probably be promoted. So, long story short, he put on a fancy square dancing shirt 'n went around to the elementary schools," Liam made a circular motion with his hand, "doing a demonstration. Suddenly all the little boys wanted to be just like the cool dancing cowboy that Jakey knew."

Louis shifted his gaze back over to Dottie and Harry's square and watched his radiant boyfriend promenade with a proud, straight back. His chest tightened with love.

Liam let out a slow breath and shook his head, rubbing at his buzzed hair. "You know, the truth is, a few years ago, 'fore I met Harry, I might not have been encouraging Jake to dance myself," he frowned. "Sequins were not something my dad would have let me put on... "

Louis nodded in understanding, remembering the way his own father had initially balked at his interest in participating in the Long Prairie Community Theater production of The Sound of Music when he was twelve. How he'd known, deep down, that it was actually a rejection of something else, a reaction to something his father had probably long suspected and been afraid of -- an essential part of Louis, that he couldn't change. And even though his dad had come around over the years, sometimes thinking about it still cut so close he'd lose his breath.

"Anyway," Liam said, shrugging and letting out a bleak laugh, "now we've got Jake in square dance and tap and Pop Warner, and I'm more concerned about the football 'cause of all the concussions."

Louis made a soft sound of acknowledgment, but he was barely listening anymore. He was tangled up in emotion, unable to take his eyes off Harry as the song ended and he began to laugh and chat with the other dancers in his square.

Beloved, Louis realized, swallowing hard. He's beloved. So beyond special.

Over the past decade or so of his life, Louis had given a lot of thought to the ways that families and communities -- makeshift and otherwise -- come together and how, over time, they sometimes fall apart. He'd thought about how his parents' marriage had deteriorated slowly and steadily until there was nothing left. Or how he, Zayn, and all of their college friends had seemed to own the city of Madison their senior year, having the time of lives right up until graduation, and how just six weeks later they'd all moved away and the magic that had made it home was gone. He'd spent the majority of his twenties intentionally making himself the temporary factor, with Americorps and the Peace Corps -- always dropping in somewhere and then getting out. And that hadn't been a bad thing. Louis felt proud of the work he'd done and the lives he'd touched. But now he was seeing first-hand how during that same time period Harry Styles had been making himself a constant, instead. That what Harry had been building up around him in Sheridan was not at all limited to his ranch. Of course it wasn't. Liam's story about his son, the way everyone in the room -- young and old -- seemed to look up to Harry and be happy to see him, made it sink in how important a person like Harry could be to a place like this, how positive his influence could be. He'd become a vital and wonderful part of a community he was completely committed to. It was suddenly more starkly obvious than ever, how much Louis wanted to be part of it. How proud he would be to be a constant in Harry's life.

I am so fucking in love with him, he thought, in awe. The feeling inside him was so bright it felt like he might be giving off light as he looked at Harry, swinging his corner now that another song had begun. So, so in love. He shook his head, feeling foolishly guilty that he'd ever wanted them to stay back at the ranch, when this was what he got to see. Familiar worries crowded the edges of Louis's mind, all the complications of his separate life in Denver and his law school plans, but he quickly tamped them down so that he could enjoy the present.

"We'll figure it out," he whispered, still watching Harry dance. "We'll figure it all out, together."

The remainder of the hoedown felt like beautiful torture. Louis's love for Harry had grown so much more powerful inside him that he was almost throbbing with the need to express it physically. Since that was clearly not immediately possible, beyond a few lingering cheek kisses and a dinnertime thigh squeeze, he directed all of his pent-up energy into being the best Cowtown Hoedown date that Harry would ever have, throwing himself into socializing and beginner's square dancing with a genuine and boyish enthusiasm.

By the time they ducked out at around 9:00 pm, waving goodbye to everybody, Louis was slightly sweaty from all the do-si-dos and promenades, flush-faced from laughing, and so in love he could barely see straight. He felt loopy from it, heady from gazing at Harry in silence as they walked down the slightly dingy linoleum hallway, and from Harry gazing back. When they burst through the front doors of the YMCA, the cool night air felt perfect against Louis's heated skin, almost like it was soothing his love delirium somehow. Grounding him a little, in a positive way.

"You have a good time?" Harry asked, as they reached his truck. He scuffed a boot through one of the sprays of sand that still dotted the parking lot, left behind like glacial till from when all the snow had melted earlier in the spring. His expression was soft and happy -- he already knew the answer to his question.

All Louis could do was nod emphatically, still smiling with stars in his eyes, while he backed him up against the passenger door of the Ford and kissed him urgently, letting out a sigh of sweet relief as their lips came together.

God.

Alone, finally. After all those hours of Harry being so wonderful and looking so gorgeous just out of reach, Louis could really touch him again, just like he wanted to.

"Shit," Harry gasped, his breath hitching when they broke apart. Harry blinked down at him, slack-jawed, his pupils blown and his nostrils flaring as he breathed out heavily through his nose. He seemed slightly stunned by how fervently Louis had kissed him, all hot and opened-mouthed and a little demanding.

Louis stared at his hands where they'd come to rest on Harry's chest, watching them rise and fall along with Harry's breathing while he tried to get ahold of himself. He'd never felt like this before -- so head over heels for someone, body and soul, that it really did feel like a kind of madness. Like he'd burst out of his skin or go out of his mind if they didn't do something about it, soon. Fly right off the surface of the Earth.

"I love you," Louis managed to get out, as he risked a look up into Harry's eyes again. He almost laughed after he said it because he meant it so thoroughly. It made his heart flip over and his stomach do a swan dive, and he felt dangerously close to swooning.

"I love you, too," Harry whispered, clearly touched as he smoothed Louis's hair back off his face and kissed his forehead. "My little square dancing machine."

"Take me home?" Louis asked, not even realizing he'd called the ranch home until Harry's eyes went a shade darker and he nodded gravely, fishing the keys out of his pocket and unlocking the truck so that they could climb inside.

Louis leaned up against the console as soon as he'd settled in and buckled his seat belt, sliding his left hand up into Harry's hair from the nape of his neck and rubbing slow circles into the base of his skull.

"This vehicle clearly wasn't designed for lovers, Harold," he griped, gesturing to the console, which was keeping him from cuddling right up against Harry's side.

Harry laughed as he started up the engine and pulled out onto the street, sighing happily as Louis's fingers continued to play against his scalp. He reached for Louis's right hand at the first stop sign and didn't let go, controlling the steering wheel with one hand when they started moving again. "You're right. They said at the dealership. 'Comes with celibacy bucket seats. Standard.' Wasn't an issue for me at the time..."

Louis let out a laugh of his own, but it faded away when Harry's large thumb started to sweep over the back of his hand, drawing swirling patterns and figure eights on his skin. Every slow, simple caress sent a new pulse of arousal shimmering through him, and he could barely breathe.

"I want you so much, Louis," Harry rasped in a whisper, flicking on his brights now that they were on the deserted stretch of highway that lead out to the ranch. Louis's breath caught, and he turned to look at Harry in the eerie light, loving the way Harry moved into the touch of the hand he still had buried in his curls. The air around them felt charged. "Been thinking about it all -- all night."

"Are you going to fuck me, peaches?" Louis asked, tugging a little at Harry's hair because the question sent such a torrent of longing through him, reigniting the heat in his face and making him ache. Just the idea of it. Of Harry taking him from behind, his powerful hips snapping, perfect thighs working as he drove into Louis. "First with your fingers, then with your cock?"

"Jesus," Harry croaked, shifting in his seat, tightening his hold on the steering wheel and on Louis's hand. Moonlight tracked through the cab of the truck as they took a left onto the Lonely Rose's gravel drive, and Louis could see the outline of Harry's erection in his jeans. He swallowed thickly, licking his lips and adjusting himself. His arousal was so strong, he was so fully flushed with it, that it felt like all the blood that wasn't rushing to his cock was moving to the surface of his skin. Like all of his capillaries were engorged too, pulsing along with his thudding heart, and he was in danger of passing out from the lack of oxygen getting to his lust-addled brain. He was so attracted to Harry he almost felt ill from it.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked, after he threw the truck into park outside the house and turned to see the state Louis was in.

"Yeah," Louis said. "Just, seeing you tonight... Watching you, I --" He took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling strangely shy. He bit his lip when Harry rested their foreheads together like he had before they'd gotten out of the truck at the Y. "I really love you, Harry. And I want..."

Harry swallowed up the end of his sentence in a desperately emotional kiss. His huge palms framed Louis's face as he tilted his head to get a better angle, his tongue languid and stupidly sensual as it moved against Louis's, drawing a small moan from him. Harry's chest was heaving when they broke apart, and Louis trailed his fingers down Harry's cheek from his temple, letting Harry bite at them gently when they moved across his lips.

"This isn't going to be a celibacy bucket seat for very much longer if we don't get out of this truck," Louis said, smirking at the amusement he could see in Harry's eyes even though he was still sucking on Louis's knuckles.

"We're gonna have to be quiet." Harry nodded to the left, where Hank and Niall and Roby's trucks were still parked in a row beside them. They were probably all sacked out on air mattresses in Harry's bedroom, but Roby was a notoriously light sleeper, and they'd be getting up to check the cows for signs of labor every two hours anyway. Louis felt another flash of heat run through him at the idea of Harry having to bite down on his fingers for an entirely different reason.

He nodded solemnly, reaching for the door handle, but Harry stilled him with a touch to his forearm before he could jump out of the truck. "Hey," he said, his eyes warm and his dimple deeply shadowed, "I love you, too."

Louis rolled his eyes at how moved he was by it all, sighing and shaking his head. "Let's go."

They pulled off their shoes by the front door and then made their way across the living room together without flicking on a light. Louis went first, Harry's big hands light on his shoulders as he followed behind. He giggled softly every time Louis made a misstep and then swore under his breath when he clipped his own ankle on the leg of an end table, almost overturning a lamp. That set Louis off as well, so they huddled in the middle of the living room hugging and snickering for minute before they were able to pull themselves together.

They broke into another muffled fit of giggles when they shut the door to the guest room behind them and Harry tackled Louis onto the unmade bed in the dark. It was only after they'd been stretched out that way for about a minute that their eyes completely adjusted to the lack of light and their laughter died away. Harry gazed down at Louis with a sober expression on his face and Louis was so happy, it felt like a balloon had been over-inflated in his chest.

"You want me to fuck you?" Harry whispered, dragging a thumb along Louis's jaw.

"Please."

All of the crackling urgency from the truck came rushing back, and they stripped out of their square dancing clothes, knocking elbows into heads and knees into hips before they were finally naked, spread out on the rumpled sheets. Louis was flat on his back with his head propped up on a pillow, and Harry lay next to him, up on one elbow, drinking him in.

"So beautiful," he murmured, giving Louis's half-hard cock a few smooth tugs before trailing his hand up Louis's tummy and chest and running it down his soft sides. "Fuck, you are so beautiful. I can't --" He didn't finish his own thought, ducking down to kiss Louis instead. It was another desperate kiss, almost like Harry felt too much to know what to do with all the emotion. Louis completely understood.

"On your tummy," Harry muttered against Louis's mouth. He leaned over to rummage in the nightstand for a condom and lube while Louis flipped over. His whole body lit up, heart stuttering at the way Harry's breath hitched audibly when his attention returned to him.

"Baby," he said. Louis shivered at the broken, awed sound of his voice and way he was moving his rough fingertips up and down the skin of his back, raising goosebumps and making Louis's muscles twitch with small spasms of pleasure.

Louis had spread his legs subtly. Harry moved to kneel between them, opening Louis up with tender, skillful efficiency until Louis was squirming back against his hand and trying to regulate his erratic breathing.

"Ready?" Harry asked, his voice cracking as he removed his fingers and pressed kisses across Louis's back and into the top of his sweaty spine. "Is this okay? Like this?"

"Yeah -- yes," Louis gasped. He turned his head to the side and craned his neck so that Harry could give him a heated, open-mouthed kiss. Then he heard him roll on the condom and slick himself up. "Just like this."

They were still kissing as Harry pushed slowly inside, letting out a low, rumbling groan of pleasure when he was finally settled flush against Louis's arse. "Oh my God, Louis. Fuck."

"Harry." It came out in something of a panted whimper, but Louis was beyond caring. He was so turned on, he was entertaining irrational thoughts about having reached a higher plane of existence because of how deep Harry's perfect cock was inside him, splitting him open in just the right way. Harry completely covered Louis's back with his big cowboy's frame, lacing his fingers into Louis's where they were palm down on the mattress and burrowing into Louis's neck to lick at his hot skin. His solid body was draped all over Louis, surrounding him as Harry ground his hips in slow circles to start out. It was everything Louis had been dreaming about since that first day in the near east pasture, mending fences in the damp grass. He felt small and safe and so very, very wanted. All of his senses were electrified because of it, like he might come at any moment. Like he could burst from loving Harry so much.

"God, I love you, Louis," Harry murmured. He'd started to thrust in earnest, finally rocking into Louis's prostate and sending shuddering waves of sensation through his body. Louis had to bite down on his lip to keep from crying out, the occasional moan escaping anyway. His prick was trapped against the sheets, and he began to rut down on the bed in time with Harry. "Love you being here."

"Fuck. Harder --" he managed to choke out, feeling frantic with desire, shaking with it as it built higher and higher inside him, a tower of emotion that would topple over any second. "Fuck. I love you too. Love being here too."

Harry gave another low groan, almost a wounded sound of surprise, cursing as his hips stuttered and he came, hot and hard, deep inside Louis. He didn't pull out when he finished, leaning back on his haunches and scooping Louis up off the bed so that he was seated in his lap. Harry wrapped a large hand around Louis's dick, murmuring encouragement in his ear as he brought him off.

"You're so good, baby, feel so fucking good. So beautiful."

Louis moaned Harry's name, coming all over his fist and trembling as he rode it out. Harry held him through it with a strong arm braced around his narrow chest, lowering them both back down onto their sides before he finally eased out.

"Was pretty good," Louis slurred, blinking at Harry as he watching him tidy up, tossing the condom and wiping at his jizz-covered hand with a tissue.

Harry snorted at the purposeful understatement, reaching down to grab the blankets from the foot of the bed so that he could cover them up. They tangled their calves together, facing one another, enjoying the eye contact too much to spoon. Louis couldn't stop smiling.

"Thank you for coming to the Cowtown Hoedown with me," Harry whispered, clutching one of Louis's hands to his chest.

Louis smiled, leaning forward to kiss Harry quickly on the lips. "My pleasure," he whispered back.

*

The next day was going to be Jolene and the twins' last day in the semi-isolation of the horse barn. Dr. Christine had been watching their progress closely, and had deemed all three of them fit to rejoin the herd of cows and their new calves out in the near pasture. They couldn't wait too long, Harry had told him, because social units were already beginning to form -- "little calf-y kindergartens," he called them, groups of newborn calves already playing, tumbling on the grass and licking at each other before falling asleep together inside a circle of protective mother cows. Sally and Paul had been much more active lately, showing their readiness to play outside in the sun, too.

Louis knew he couldn't keep Paul and Sally to himself forever, tucked away in the older, smaller horse barn. But he still felt a pang of wistfulness as he slipped out to see them one last time before they were moved. Part of him wanted them to stay in their little nest of hay forever, among the comforting neighing and nickering, and the occasional lazy stamping of the horses. Calf-y kindergarten, he thought to himself again, suppressing a heart-heavy laugh as he leaned down over the gate of their pen. It really is like we're getting ready to send them off to school. Paul and Sally were both suckling, standing parallel on either side of Jolene with their heads down at her udder. She was dutifully turning to smell and lick at them, and Louis thought she looked harried but proud, with a more confident, responsible bearing than she'd had when she was a heifer.

"You look great, Jolene," he said softly, not wanting to disturb them.

He snapped one last picture, and for a fleeting moment wondered if he should send it to his own mother. That would be a shock, he chuckled. They'd last talked on the phone about a week before Louis had been unexpectedly relocated to Wyoming, and he distinctly remembered saying something to her about being a "city boy at heart." He'd been standing in line at Starbucks on the 16th Street Mall in his shiny shoes and his sharp suit at the time, proud to be paying four dollars for his regular morning mocha. He rolled his eyes at the memory of himself. It was all an affectation he'd been putting on, temporarily immersing himself in another culture the same way he had since leaving home, only that time he'd thought it would stick. That he'd found himself, finally. Found out where he wanted to be. And it wasn't like home at all.

There was something about the barn that felt like home, though. Some sense memory from Louis's past in rural Minnesota that made him feel a little more real, a little more in touch with himself. He bit his lip and slipped quietly over the gate, settling down for a few moments next to Sally and Paul, watching them finish their meal and flop into the hay together, nose-to-tail, to take a nap.

The filtered sunlight and warm animal musk permeating the air were making Louis feel a little drowsy himself. He put his head back against the side of the wooden pen and closed his eyes, rolling his slightly sore shoulders and thinking about Harry in his fancy square dancing outfit. Saw him leading Dottie Llewellyn around the gym floor, do-si-doing and allemandeing left. Maybe next year... he thought. Maybe next year it'll be me.

A banging sound, followed by scraping, jarred Louis out of his reverie before he could actually drift off. He rubbed his eyes and was about to hop up to see who had come in when he heard strained voices.

"You've got wood rot all around the sill timbers," someone was saying. "That's not as easy as a roof repair."

Louis furrowed his brow. It was definitely Niall's voice, but Louis had never heard him like this before. Even when he'd been outraged about Hank's refusal to accept that he'd lost a bet, there'd been an undercurrent of laughter in his griping, like it was all part of the fun. Now his voice was steely, completely serious, and a little exasperated -- as though a long-simmering annoyance was finally beginning to bubble over.

"You don't think we could hold off one more year, though?" Harry answered.

Anxiety spiked in Louis's chest, and he tensed his body, ready to stand up.

"You know we can't," Niall snapped. "It's borderline unsafe to keep the horses in here right now."

Harry groaned. "I know," he said. "I know." There was more scraping, and Louis heard the sound of feed being upended into one of the galvanized steel troughs at the other end of the barn. "Well, I've been talking to the bank about the loan. There are some people there who knew Roy, and they're going to give me a really good interest rate." There was a pause, and then Harry continued in a tight, overly-bright tone, as though he were responding to a skeptical look from Niall. "We'll be fine! We'll be fine. Seriously, if the market holds..." Harry trailed off into an uneasy silence.

"It might not," Niall said flatly, after a few seconds.

Harry didn't answer right away. Louis blinked himself out of the little state of shock he was in, hearing this. He knew things were financially tricky, he'd picked up that much during his time here, but Harry almost never let it show just how much he worried. And Niall always, always supported him. He'd been 100% behind Harry every step of the way as both a friend and an employee. That was what had Louis almost paralyzed -- the idea that even Niall might disagree with the way Harry was handling things.

"You know, I didn't want to mention it because you're so set on the mortgage idea, but there's something you could do right now that would make all of this go away." Louis drew in a low breath, not daring to move even an inch as his heart began to thud. "I know you know that," Niall added quickly. His voice was getting shaky; Louis could tell he was still trying to be understanding even though he couldn't help the frustration he was obviously feeling. "But if you go into debt again and something else goes wrong, some sickness in the stock, or maybe the market cycles down... I mean, you're going to have to lay people off. Your friends, Harry."

Again Harry was silent. He probably didn't know what to say. Louis was aching to just hop up and give him a hug, but it was far too late for that to be appropriate. Instead he quietly drew his knees up under his chin and stared at the still-sleeping calves.

"I get it," Niall said. "It obviously means a lot to you to keep the land. But I just --" he made a pained sound as he cut himself off. "It's all of our lives, too. And I just can't believe that you wouldn't even think about selling. That's all."

Louis heard him turn on his heel and walk out through the big square door into the sunlight, saw the top of his hat as he went by Jolene's pen. Harry left a few moments later, out the smaller door at the other side of the barn.

"Fuck," Louis muttered to himself. One week of his vacation was already gone, and all the old problems refused to be held at bay. And he's not telling me things, he thought darkly, as he finally stood up and dusted himself off. He's not telling me.