The Rusty Old Minivan

Chapter 4

It went on in the same way for several weeks. Every week, after their class together, they went to Harry's and hung out. They smoked up, drank beer, ate take-away and watched telly or played Xbox. They chatted about everything that didn't have to do with themselves and they laughed until they almost choked. They even fell asleep on Harry's bed one time and Louis woke up with him draped halfway across his back.

And still- nothing. No touching, no rubbing, not so much as an itty bitty peck on the lips.

Louis didn't want to instigate because as little as he wanted to admit it, he'd sort of come to like Harry. Sort of come to need these evenings off, just relaxing on his mattress and forgetting the outside world for a while. If he did anything to ruin what they had, he wouldn't just lose Harry; he'd also lose those couple of hours a week that were just for him.

That wasn't to say it was easy.

One evening in particular, they were lounging on Harry's mattress, Louis borrowing his laptop to finish an essay and Harry lying beside him with earphones in, listening to music on his phone. Louis had been touching up on the last essay of the course for over an hour, bent over the laptop with his back rested against the hard wall behind him and his neck was starting to ache from it. He had to have been stretching and cracking it a lot, because, completely out of the blue, Harry muttered, "neck hurt?"

"Hm. Bit sore," Louis replied, rolling his head around a little, and then straightening his shoulders out before concentrating back on the computer-screen again. "S'okay."

A big slipped onto the back of his neck. Louis glanced over at Harry questioningly and Harry gave a him small smile, saying, "s'okay, I like massaging."

"You sure?"

Harry retracted his hand, but he was nodding. He propped a few pillows up behind his back and straightened up, then spread his bended legs and patted the space in front of him. "Come," he said, "I'll give you a rub."

"Uhm... yeah, all right." Louis crawled into the space, then hesitated for a bit before relaxing back against Harry's warm broad torso. "Thanks."

"S'all right. I really don't mind."

Harry fingers were warm on Louis' neck and shoulders, strong thumbs digging in where his nerves were sorest and driving up to the base of his skull. The telly was off and they were sitting in comfortable silence together, only interrupted by Louis' content hums and slight winces as Harry dug his fingers up and into his tender spots. His legs were pressed against Louis' sides, his arms around his shoulders and his chest expanding and sinking against Louis' back. It felt nice, being wrapped up in him like this; his heat, his smell and his size. Protective.

But it also wasn't quite enough. Not at this point, anyway. He wanted Harry's fingers to move down; down his chest and over his stomach, or up; over his jaw and into his mouth. He wanted to be touched and kissed and bitten and to be wanted; wanted like Louis wanted him. "Harry, I-"

"Hear this," Harry said at exactly the same moment. He placed one of his earphones inside Louis' ear, "it's really nice."

A high-pitched man's voice streamed through the earphone. It wasn't something Louis would've found himself, but it was nice. Sensitive. Sort of vulnerable. Louis found himself slumping back against Harry, settling into the slow-sung tune. Harry had stopped massaging now, but his hands were still rested on Louis' shoulders, his fingers tapping lightly in tune with the melody.

"It's a cover of an older song," he murmured after a few seconds, his breath heating the back of Louis' head, "Higher Love by Steve Winwood. But the guy who's covering it is James McMorrow. You heard of him?"