chasing cars [larry au]

vi.

When both of our cars pulled up to the dock, it was just past sunset. I sat still in my van for a few minutes, nervous of what was to come. But I had to get past my nerves, because if I'd let them hold me back any longer from what I wanted, I'd lose my mind.

I turned my head to see that Harry had gotten out of his car, shirtless. He was changing out of his work uniform, only covering his bare torso with his thin jacket. I suddenly realized he had various tattoos inked against his skin, and I found myself touching my arm, where I had ink drawn on mine. I decided it was time to get out.

"To the dock this time?" He called to me as I faced the lake, mesmerized by the ripples in the water. I nodded, pulling the blanket from the backseat again. We made our way down the muddy trail to the wooden planks that seemed unsteady with their aging.

"If we fall in and die of hypothermia, I'm rising from my grave to beat the shit out of you," I warned as he took my hand, carefully leading me onto the dock.

"If we die, at least we're together."

I raised a brow at him, handing him one corner of the blanket. We began to spread it evenly on the ground. "Oh great, I have to spend my last moments with you. And then, oh! It'll be awkward when I have to turn left and you go right and I wind up in hell and you're a cute little angel. With your cute face and halo and wings. Just fantastic, really!"

He slowly knelt to the ground, adjusting his lanky legs so he could sit properly on the planks. "You think I'm cute? Call me cute again."

"Get over yourself, you ugly monster," I scowled playfully, sitting down beside him. We were practically resting on top of one another, his legs automatically intertwining in mine.

"For what it's worth," he started, smiling lazily over at me. I could've sworn he was love drunk then; his eyes lidded and lips parted as if he was always expecting a kiss. "I'm glad you let me crash into you. In more ways than one."

"Even if it caused me a hell of a fine," I added, tilting my head up at the sky and leaning my weight back on both arms.

It was quiet for what seemed like hours. A cool wind blew through the surrounding forest and the leaves fell with each gust. The dock gave small groans and creaks under us and I had anxiety about how long it would hold us up. But it never gave out, and that held a deeper meaning to me.

Harry was the first one to speak.

"I feel like I'll let them down," he rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one arm. "My mum always asks me when I'll settle down and find a special girl to make my wife. She wants lots of grandchildren that I can't provide. I just can't. I don't want to let her down; I don't want my friends to hate me."

"They love and care about you, Haz. They won't be upset. And if they are upset, screw 'em. This is who you are, you can't change that. But you have me, and we can forget about them. Forget the whole damn world," I said, allowing my eyes to close on themselves. We lost track of time, and it was probably a late hour.

"I can't change," he agreed, "but I wish I could. Things would be so much easier."

"But then you wouldn't be here with me right now, laying too close, staring at my lips every bloody second," I teased, eyes wide opened and observing him more closely now.

His eyes consciously closed, dimples showing as he laughed at himself. "Oh God. I am, aren't I?"

"I don't mind it, trust me," I bit my lip, an anxious lump forming in my throat. "So, have you accepted yourself yet? That was the hardest part for me."

"No," he sighed suddenly, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. It was then I noticed the tears beginning to brim in them. "I hate myself, Louis. I hate that I'm so different."

"I hate me, too. I know how hard it is," I mumbled, resting my hand against his cheek. I gently lifted his chin up so I could look him in the eyes. "But when I'm with you, for the slightest moment, I forget to hate myself."

I don't remember who moved in first. The singing of the crickets and thumping of my heartbeat made me lose focus and all I could feel was my lips against his. And it was enough.

.....

"Tattoos are like the words you wish you could say, but were always too scared to," Harry said, his hand gently rubbing my arm. "The ink was my only way of being true to myself, since I hid who I really am for so long."

"But now you don't have to hide anymore," I whispered, our faces mere inches away from each other. Every now and then, between our deep talks, he'd suddenly kiss me, as if he held years of desire within him that couldn't be contained any longer.

"What's this one mean?" His thumb traced over the cursive font of a simple phrase. My eyes casted down to see it better, goosebumps rising from his soft touch.

"Given a chance," I read it aloud, smiling briefly in spite of myself. "Well, you've picked a very long backstory."

"I've got no where to be," he insisted, continuing to rub the ink.

"I was given a chance to be me," I started off, nodding to myself. "To be the real me. A me who likes boys, a me who likes me. For a portion of my life, where I was pretending to be someone I wasn't, I didn't want to live. I thought, like you, that I'd be abandoned. But my family was extremely supportive when I came out. I had no idea they would be, so that in itself gave me the chance to live my life the way I wanted."

He flinched when I spoke, and I noticed how insincere I sounded. My hand combed through his hair in reassurance.

"You feel the same," he said.

"I guess in the simplest of terms, I was given a chance at love; at life." I pressed my lips into his hand, then sat up straight to gaze out at the water.

"You know, it's funny," Harry said beside me, rolling onto his back to face the stars. I pulled my knees into my chest, yawning at the moon. "I never thought home would be a person, not a place."