The novelty of van life had completely worn off after an entire week on the road.
It was still magical, but in a more realistic sort of way. Louis didn't dread the long hours in the car each day, because he enjoyed listening to wacky playlists of the most obscure music Harry could find. He enjoyed their chaotic gas station stops for snacks and bathroom breaks. The silly conversations that made their stomachs sore from laughter. The scenery that changed with each state. The hopeful view of the everlasting road stretching out in front of them, beckoning them forward.
It was hard, though. They fought a lot, as four people trapped in a van for a week would. They argued over where and when to stop, they argued over who was driving and who was navigating, there argued over the arrangement in which they slept. At one point Harry got so mad, he didn't talk to any of them for six hours.
He finally broke when Stevie Nicks' "Edge of Seventeen" came on the radio—because he was too mad to plug his phone to the aux cord—and he asked Niall to turn it up. Louis just smirked and sang along, glad Harry was done with brooding for the time being, at least. He had missed his ridiculous commentary about the cows chewing grass along the side of the road, or the crucial difference between multigrain and wholegrain bread.
"Okay, literally, all of you stink. Like, please, open the windows more. I'm going to die back here," he was saying, officially over his strop but still moody enough to insult them all.
"You smell bad too," Liam pointed out from the driver's seat, rolling down the windows anyway. "We all smell bad."
"I do not!"
"What, you somehow showered in the past seventy-two hours without any of us knowing?"
Louis was navigating today, although he didn't have to do much because they were going to be on this same highway for at least three more hours. He turned around in his seat as best as he could with the seatbelt still on, to face Niall and Harry in the backseat, surrounded by all of their instruments and equipment. It was quite cramped back there, but the backseat also liberated them from any driving or navigating duties.
He leveled Harry with a stare, raising his brows at him as if to emphasize Liam's words.
"I smell good," he argued, crossing his arms over his chest. The position put his biceps on display, crafted from months of boxing with Liam, and Louis had to look away.
"Whatever you say," he muttered, but the conversation sparked an idea.
They had gone three days without showering, which was gross enough on its own, with the added factor being that they sweat a lot each night while performing. The last time they showered was in Memphis, when they parked at a rest stop on the side of the road and paid for showering vouchers. The showers had been run down and quite the opposite of luxury, but they really weren't picky when the question wasn't nice shower or gross shower, but rather, gross shower or no shower.
The Texas ecology was quickly changing from average greenery to desertland warmed in the sun. They had been driving on this highway for a while, passing road signs with directions to different sights and tourist attractions. Louis kept his eyes peeled until he saw what he was looking for.
"Take the next exit, please."
"What? Why?"
"Just trust me."
Liam bit his lip nervously but followed Louis' instructions. Meanwhile, Louis stole Harry's square-framed tortoiseshell shades right from his hands, ignoring his protests, and put them on so he no longer had to squint in the sun. He let his hand rest out the wide open window, enjoying the breeze flowing between his fingers and rushing into the car.
"You look so good in those," Harry said, before slapping his hand over his mouth.
Niall groaned, whispering something like you're sooo obvious.
Louis gave him a weird look before laughing, not knowing what Harry was on about. "Glad you think so." He admired himself in the mirror on the sun visor, but disagreed—Harry looked much better in them.
In fact, Harry looked great in most things. Louis would scoff at the clothes he would bring home from a day scouring thrift stores for flowy trousers and Hawaiian shirts, but then Harry would show up one day wearing the most hideous outfit and somehow pull it off. Each look was made sweeter by the fact that it was uniquely Harry, hand picked by him, and undoubtedly something he loved.
He used to wear skinny jeans and vintage band shirts while he performed, which was basically the uniform of any given indie rock band, but he had recently switched to more modest clothing. Louis knew it was because he didn't like the feeling of his body on display for hundreds of strangers to stare at and comment on. They had talked about this before, late one night after a concert in Atlanta where some girl in the audience had groped him through his skinny jeans.
Louis had been so mad, he could've launched a thousand ships with the power of his indignation and righteousness. In the end, they figured out she was also part of the group that followed the band around a lot to the point where it was creepy, a restraining order was filed, and the rest was history.
Liam continued following Louis' instructions and they ended up on a bumpy dirt road that led to a small parking lot surrounded by trees. Louis smiled to himself for the success, taking in the few cars around them. It wasn't crowded at all, which was perfect.
"Wait, so what're we doing here?"
"Patience, Neil," Louis shushed, before turning to the group at large. "Ready for a hike, boys?"
Harry immediately perked up. "We're going hiking? You hate hiking!"
"Not true." Louis loved to go on long, calm walks by himself in the morning. He also enjoyed a good woodland trail. He used to be a rock climber, for chrissake, he was a very outdoorsy person. It was just that Harry liked to stop every three seconds to take a picture of wildflowers or salamanders with his fancy DSLR or an old film camera for the "aesthetic." All Louis wanted to do was walk at a pace faster than a snail's, at the very least.
"Can I bring my camera?"
Louis wanted to say no, but the look of pure, unadulterated joy on Harry's face made him give in. "Fine, but bring the case 'cause it might get wet. Alright everyone, out of Patrica, let's go, let's go."
While waiting for everyone to file out of Patty, Louis wandered over to the information center and grabbed a map, scanning over the trails. During the short ride from the highway to the park, he did a quick google search, so he mostly knew how to get where he wanted to go.
The trail to their destination involved a bit of climbing through the hilly forest, which was funny because Louis thought Texas was completely flat and desertlike. He foraged through the pathway like a valiant explorer, leading his bandmates to what he hoped was more than a lackluster sight.
Finally, after at least two miles of stumbling over tree roots and climbing over jagged rocks, the trees opened up to a fecund riverbed. Louis smiled, taking a step forward, as a waterfall came into view.
"We've arrived," he announced grandly, opening his arms up as if to embrace the scene before him. He heard some of the others make noises of surprise behind him, Harry actually gasping at the sight.
"What is this?"
"Welcome to, uh," he paused to check the name on the map, "Wichita Falls. Not the actual Wichita Falls, I think, but they're waterfalls in Wichita, so."
"Wow, this is nice," Liam commended, walking to the edge of the river to dip his fingers into the cool water. Niall was already by his side, removing his shirt.
Louis looked back to Harry who was still standing by the edge of the forest with his lips parted softly, staring at the falls. Water rushed down and it sounded like summer.
"Alright there?"
"Louis, this is beautiful," Harry said, quiet enough to barely be heard over the rushing of the falls. He stumbled forward, clumsily making his way over the rocks. Watching him almost trip each time was nerve-wracking, and Louis couldn't exhale fully until Harry was standing safely by his side.
"Knew you would like this, you hippie."
"You are too," Harry countered, prodding at Louis' Birkenstock sandals with his toes. "You literally have a VW bus you practically live out of-"
"I live in my apartment, actually, and the VW's name is Patricia- "
"You've read every book by Herman Hesse and Kahlil Gibran-"
"So have you!"
"Because you recommended them," Harry pointed out, which, okay, true. "You use all-natural deodorant, you have a book on edible plants on your bedside table back home, and you're wearing a hemp bracelet." Harry folded his arms over his chest, one hand clutching his camera, challenging. "Plus, you took a gap year to rock climb in South America! Tell me you're not a hippie. I will pull out all of the receipts."
"Whatever. You're the one always throwing up peace signs and meditating and whatever." He grinned because he knew as soon as he said "meditating," Harry would give him a mini lecture about the inherently religious nature of meditation.
"I don't meditate," Harry argued, brows furrowing. "I simply sit quietly and try to clear my mind. We both took enough religious studies classes in college to know meditation is strictly religious, no matter what corporate America or suburban soccer moms on health cleanses try to tell you. And neither of us is Buddhist, so."
He narrowed his eyes at Louis when he noticed him smiling.
"Actually," he finally said, "I don't think either of us can technically be hippies. Are we part of the 1960's counterculture? No. It's 2019."
"It sure is," Louis agreed, unable to wipe the cheesy grin off his face.
"But if one of us is part of that counterculture, it's definitely you. I had to listen to you talk for an hour about how much you love walking barefoot in the grass last time we got high together."
"Um, excuse me, you were the one who made us listen to Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin on repeat that same day. Talk about the 60's."
Harry bit his lip to hide the beginning of a big smile to match Louis'. He searched Louis' eyes as if looking for something. Louis wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he did know that Harry's eyes were very green, highlighted by the verdant forest behind him. "Remember the first time we hung out, when we-"
"Listened to Bon Iver on repeat in my bed all day? Yeah, I remember that. We were supposed to get coffee or something, I dunno, but you convinced us to stay in my room all day. Very persuasive, I recall. I think there was weed involved," he added dryly, playing dumb.
Harry looked down shyly, about to say something else, but was cut off by Liam yelling their names. When Louis looked back, he and Niall had already shucked off their clothes on the shoreline and dipped into the river.
"Stop flirting and get over here!" Niall called, laughing at the startled looks on their faces.
"Not flirting," Harry grumbled, eyes cast down. He looked very uncomfortable with even the insinuation that he would ever flirt with Louis, which was a bit... insulting.
Louis tried not to be hurt, saying, "Don't worry, he's just teasing."
Harry shook his head and stayed quiet, wandering closer to the waterfall to take a few pictures. He had his Nikon DSLR today, not the film camera he picked up at a garage sale, so he was able to take as many photos as he wanted without worrying about changing film.
Louis let him do is thing, stripping out of his shirt and shorts, debating shucking his boxers as well. No one was around but the boys, anyway, and he always loved the free feeling of swimming naked.
He pulled yanked his boxers down to the cacophony of Liam and Niall's catcalls, standing tall and flipping them the double bird.
"Hey Harry, you should take a picture of this," he called, posing ridiculously with his arm over his head just to be a shit.
"What- Oh my god," Harry shrieked, slapping his hands over his eyes. "What is wrong with you?!"
Louis' abdominal muscles were sore from laughing so hard. "Get over here, let's swim."
"Not until you put your clothes back on!"
"You've never seen a man more beautiful than me," Louis teased, striking another more languid pose. Harry still had his eyes covered, though, so Louis rolled his eyes and jumped into the water.
He swam over to the rock where Harry was now perched, flipping through some of the photos on his camera.
"Not gonna swim?"
"Ehm, I don't know..."
"C'mon, you were just complaining about not showering."
"Yeah, that was for you guys, since you smell so bad."
Louis swam closer and wrapped his dripping hands around Harry's bare ankles, hanging onto them to keep himself afloat. The river was deeper near the waterfall, and he couldn't stand here.
"C'mon, H, I know you want to."
"Fine, let me just put this away."
That required less persuasion than expected. Louis watched Harry wander over to his camera case to secure it safely inside, before he peeled off his shirt by gripping the hem.
"Strip, baby! That's what we like to see!"
"Shut up," Harry groaned, stepping out of his shorts and carefully folding them.
"All. The. Way," Louis chanted, and Niall and Liam joined in too. "All. The. Way. All! The! Way!"
"You're all so ridiculous," he complained. But he kicked off his boxers anyway, so quick that Louis only caught a flash of pale skin before he was diving into the water, completely submerged. They all cheered, and when Harry resurfaced, he pushed his wet hair out of his eyes just to glare at Louis.
It was a good day.
&&&