Love is like this; not a heartbeat, but a moan

2

Harry has to breathe through his mouth.

(Harry hates breathing through his mouth.)

The scent is blinding, deafening, and he's thinking right now that he might pass out. Or just die. Or worse, fall into an early rut.

(Breathing through his mouth is like playing music with the sound turned all the way down. He longs to hear the song, longs to listen and listen forever and ever.

Okay. Maybe this metaphor is a bit weak, but what Harry is really thinking is that he just wants to bury his nose into Louis' neck and scent him, and never let go, like, ever.)

Even when he's breathing through his mouth, the essence of Louis is still more overwhelming than anything's he's ever experienced, and Louis isn't even fully in heat yet. He's fallen asleep with his head rested on the side window. It's quite peaceful. Harry knows once they get closer to their destination Louis will be more fitful, squirming as his heat approaches and looms.

Though his mum and sister are both O's, Harry has never been around for their heats because they always planned trips away for privacy. Harry's mum has always been more open in talking about it, especially when Louis presented when they were teenagers and Harry wondered why he was suddenly so closed off and harsh, missing school for a week and a half and then totally ignoring Harry even after he came back. So even though Harry has never been with an O during heat he knows more than the average A, what with his family full of O's and all.

At twenty-three years old, Harry wouldn't call himself inexperienced. During the past few years he's been around experimenting and experiencing, hooking up with a few B's and O's here and there and even an A, once. Especially for alphas, it's common to sleep around. Harry doesn't like it very much so he kinda abstains, unless the right person comes around. His A friends think he's strange for it, his B friends don't care, but the O's he hangs around feel more comfortable with him because of it. (Louis is the exception. Louis doesn't like Harry at all, no matter what he does. Louis hates Harry on principle.)

So Harry isn't inexperienced when it comes to intimacy, but he is extremely inexperienced when it comes to helping O's through their heats. As in, he has never helped an omega through their heat before.

This is a bit concerning, seeing as Harry is quite nervous he's going to do something horrifying. There's a ton of room for error, with the situation so new, and especially with the way he feels about Louis... the way he has felt about Louis... the way he will always feel about Louis...

Harry's feelings are kinda insurmountable. He's very afraid of doing something damaging, something he'll regret. Like bonding Louis. Or hurting him. Or... both? Not a good thought.

After only a half hour into the drive, Harry is already suffocating within the close confines of the car. Louis is still sleeping peacefully, unaware that his scent is driving Harry crazy.
It's the most amazing scent in the world, wholly indescribable, but if he had to call it something he would call it sweet. Sweet, not sickly sweet, but sweet like flowers and sunsets and fresh strawberries. Sweet like summer sun. Sweet like happiness and bliss and all things good.

Harry brings his hand to his face to filter the air, covering his nose and mouth in the soft sleeve of his hoodie. It doesn't work very effectively so eventually he rolls down the window in a haste, nearly sticking his head out like an excited, panting dog. The flush of cool spring air is rejuvenating to Harry but it startles Louis awake.

"What are you doing?" Louis asks with the edges of his voice dipped in sleep. He frowns at the open window and the chilly spring air rushing in, sitting up more and glancing at Harry.

"Can't breathe," Harry mutters, pressing the back of his palm to his own flushed cheek, directing his eyes to the highway in front of him.
"Oh." Louis shifts a little, looking uncomfortable.