Here In The Afterglow

Chapter 3.5

Towards the end of the month, the air turns wet and malicious.

The whole of Post Falls takes in a collective, choked gasp, jaws locked tight as everything turns thick and palpable. Ceiling fans spin with useless, heavy whoomphs, and ice is eaten straight from the freezer, cracked harshly in the sink and sucked on desperately.

Louis' body clock is thrown off entirely. The sun rises too soon, drags itself over the hills too excitedly and burns the tips of the still nesting pines. They're unprepared for it and they wilt away in an attempt to hide, turning heavy and thick-limbed. Purple light escapes and leaves only the remnants of a rare, soft pink behind to filter between the burning dawn light and the sharp blue of the sky.

In the afternoons the streets are deserted, tar sizzling and vision blurred by hazy waves. It's felt the most then, when the sun is highest and touches everything with giddy alacrity, eager to be seen.

Today Meddle is spinning quietly, warbling and soft beneath the hum in the air. They lie side by side looking up at the ceiling with thick tongues and sweat behind their knees, sticky and uncomfortable.

Harry has one leg propped up and leant against the wall, the other stretched out and hanging over the edge of the mattress. One big hand is spread on his belly, the other is in his hair to tug it off his forehead. There's a tiny red crease on his nose from where his glasses had sat, sweat gathered there, shiny and bright.

Louis lies beside him with aching ribs. It's on these days that it does hurt to breathe. Most of the time, now, he's fine. It only hurts if he's moving for too long, if he laughs too loud at Harry's stupid knock-knock jokes or tries to sing along too strong. Now, though, he swallows against the muggy air and knocks his foot against the bottom of Harry's shin every so often just so he can touch.

Sleepy time and I lie, Gilmour sings gently, with my love by my side.

Louis drifts off here and there, not quite asleep but not quite conscious either. He can feel sweat sliding along the back of his neck, can feel the thin film of it that's settled over his eyelids. It's too warm to keep his eyes open, but even when he slips them closed the light settles around the edges of the shadows like a warped vignette.

"Lou," Harry murmurs, muffled by the sweat sticking to his upper lip.

Louis hums noncommittally in response, eyes still closed. Harry goes quiet for a long time. There's the soft rustling sound of fabric, his fingers playing with the bottom of his t-shirt, maybe. A few slow, measured breaths.

"Come to San Francisco with me."

Louis' eyes flick wide open, sticky and hot. When he doesn't respond, Harry rolls onto his side and leans over him on his elbow, bottom lip bitten worriedly into his teeth, eyes searching his face frantically. Louis just tilts his head to the side and looks up at him. His hair is sticking slightly to his temples, lips apricot and shiny-wet. His eyes are a little wide, a little afraid, restless as they wait for Louis' reaction.

"I..." he says uselessly.

"Please," Harry says quietly. "I want to share it with you."

"Haz," Louis cups his jaw in a slick palm, watches as Harry's eyes flutter and he nuzzles into it. "I don't know if I can. School, and Liam, and..."

Harry looks down at him in disbelief. "You can go to school anywhere. Liam would understand."

"My mom," Louis says quietly. He rubs his thumb over Harry's cheekbone. "My mom, babe."

Harry nods in understanding, but he pushes his face into Louis' hand, kisses his wrist. "I want a life with you. I want to show you how good it feels to be free."

Louis almost chokes on the humid air, lungs constricting. "What?"

"Even if it's just for the summer," Harry whispers, a little desperate. "You know I'll follow you anywhere if you want to come back, you know I will."

"Haz," Louis bites his lip, unsure. "Where would we stay? How would we afford it? How would we even get there?"

"I can get that arranged easily," Harry says earnestly. "We can find an apartment easy, for cheap. Or we can stay with other people, rent out a room or just sleep on a mattress. It'll be fun."

"The last thing I want is for you to disappear," Louis says quietly, and Harry furrows his brow. "I was so scared you would go back without me. But I just...it's a lot. It's gonna be a lot."

"I know, baby," Harry kisses his wrist again. "I wanna show you where I grew up. I wanna walk down Castro holding your hand. I wanna show you the way you make me feel."

He's almost speaking right into Louis' mouth, warmth breaths fluttering over the sweat on his top lip. Everything is hazy and thick and Louis leans up to peck Harry's lips, quick and nervous and with his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

"Alright," he says softly. "Alright."

Harry's jaw drops open, half shocked and half in a giant grin. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Louis says, lets himself smile. He laughs brightly when Harry tucks his face into his neck and giggles, rubs his lips in so it tickles and Louis' legs kick out. It sends subconscious pain sparking through him but he pushes it aside, threads his hands into Harry's hair and pulls him close.

They're both smiling too much for their lips to slide together properly, laughing into each other's mouth. Harry lets out a soft peel of laughter, Louis' bottom lip held softly between his teeth. Louis is so aware of the hot, sticky sweat all over his body, so aware of the tightness in his ribs.

"It's gonna be amazing," Harry babbles, pushing Louis' hair out of his eyes with frantic fingers. "Jus' me and you, in the best city in the world. Me and my baby."

"Haz," Louis' entire face is flushed pink, his toes digging into the sheets as he squirms. There's bubbling in his stomach, an excited fizzling that makes his fingers shake. Relief floods through him, too, makes his cheeks ache and his shoulder relax with elation.

"Fuck, I love you to bits," Harry presses a hard kiss to his lips, pulls back with a grin. "Love you so much."

"Love you," Louis says, almost dazedly. Harry bumps their noses together, smiles against Louis' cheek and presses a soft kiss there. "Gonna have so much fun, aren't we?"

"We're gonna fall in love all over again," Harry says around a giggle.

"I can't wait," Louis whispers. Harry beams down at him and leans in close.

As their lips glide together effortlessly, slick from the air and loose from the excitement, a tiny ball of hope uncurls in Louis' chest and pushes away at the pain, pushes away at the remnants of the shadows that are clinging on for dear life.

With another press of their lips, another tender swipe of Harry's tongue, Louis' mind falls into a place that's lush and glowing white. The teeth nipping at his heels are swallowed up, the jeering laughter is muffled. The only thing on his skin is the trace of Harry's fingers, of his lips.

Hefinds a little alcove of peace amongst it all.