Walk That Mile

DAY 11 & 12

DAY ELEVEN

Holbrook, Arizona

Louis wakes up slowly in another hotel room that takes him a moment to place, another city he's slow to recognize. It's like being a rock star on tour except all of the hotel rooms and mishmash of cities are actually quite damaging to his bank account. Not that he's actually checked. He just knows.

He points his toes to stretch his calves and rolls onto his side to face Harry. No one is as surprised as him to find Harry already looking at him, bleary green eyes slowly blinking at him from across the three feet divide. The covers are pulled up around Harry's ears and it makes him look more like an angel on a cloud than a guy with a hangover.

Louis is really thankful his thoughts are not broadcast out loud.

"Good morning," Harry says, slow and measured as always.

"Morning, H." Louis's voice is scratchy from sleep as he rubs at his tired eyes.

"We had a lot of tequila last night."

Louis drops his hands and laughs, scooting deeper into his own cloud of covers. "A lot of tequila. A lot of tacos."

"A lot of guacamole," Harry adds with a smile.

"Solid night," Louis says.

"Are we staying in a hotel shaped like a teepee or did I make that up?"

Louis laughs again, his eyes closing with it. "No, that's real." He licks his lips and wonders if Harry remembers the rest of their night, the details Louis can't stop replaying. The way Harry said he likes when Louis calls him baby, the way Harry hugged him like a fucking koala when they were leaving Romo's, the look they shared when he asked for two beds.

"Thank god," Harry says. "I need to get a picture before we go." He scrunches his lips, "Did I lose my camera?"

Louis's eyes go wide. He definitely doesn't remember the last time he saw Harry's camera - not after the life size dinosaurs at the not-so-stellar rock shop. "We must have left it at the restaurant. We'll go there first thing this morning."

Harry nods, "I've never left it anywhere before."

Louis swallows, "Yeah, well, we were pretty drunk."

"I'm not hungover," Harry says after a pause. "Why am I not hungover?"

Louis has a slight headache but nothing that serious though his mouth is slightly dry. "Must have been magic tequila."

Harry grins and then sits up quickly. His bare skin is always a welcome sight in Louis's book even as Harry covers his face and groans. "Head rush," he mumbles.

When he stretches his arms over his head, Louis stares openly at the curve of his back and the way his stomach balloons as he yawns. He looks away before Harry can catch him.

"I have to shower," Harry announces as he flings off the bed covers. "I feel disgusting."

Louis watches him stand, the stretch of his legs and the pale skin of his thighs as he adjusts where his boxers must have ridden up overnight. This time Harry catches him staring. Louis clears his throat and darts his eyes back to meet Harry's. "Disgusting, yeah."

Harry looks at him oddly for a moment like he's thinking before he starts walking toward the bathroom. "Feel free to join me," he tosses over his shoulder like it's not supposed to knock the breath out of Louis.

It definitely does.

He opens his mouth and then closes it, the moment for saying something already passed as Harry closes the bathroom door and then turns on the shower. Louis rolls to his back and stares at the high peak of the ceiling, all of the wasted space just so the building can be shaped like a teepee.