A Walk in the Park--Larry Stylinson

Defending Harry

It wasn't going to work. Louis knew that as soon as he saw Harry the following morning , dressed in the sweats Louis had loaned him last night, with sleepy bedroom eyes, tousled hair, and full pink lips slightly parted, smiling at him.

What a way to wake up! It wasn't going to work. Nope, Louis couldn't imagine being friends with Harry, and wanting him relentlessly all the while. He was way too attracted to him. Sooner or later, something was bound to happen. Like, maybe they'd have a bit too much to drink at a club and Louis got too loose, or they both fell asleep on the couch watching the telly, or . . . so many things could launch Louis into serious lust mode. And then it would turn into an instant disaster.

Louis didn't see how he'd resist Harry for long. It was impossible. The green-eyed angel in his apartment was a delicacy, and Louis hadn't been with anyone in some time. Didn't matter though. Even if he'd been with someone five minutes ago, he'd still be drooling over Harry.

The worst of it was, he couldn't tell Harry why they couldn't be friends. It was his deep, dark secret that he hardly shared with anyone, and he was ashamed to admit it to Harry.

"Mind if I take a shower before we go get your battery?" he asked.

"No, not at all. I took one last night."

"I know, I heard you," grumbled Louis dryly.

"I hope it didn't disturb you." There he went, being all polite and nice again.

"Going to sleep to the sound of water is the best thing I can think of," said Louis so Harry wouldn't feel like he was imposing. Besides, it was true.

"You have a toothbrush I can borrow?" Harry looked like he expected Louis to smack him for asking. Was he really that intimidating?

"Sure. I have several in the top drawer, still in their packages," Louis indicated the bathroom.

"Thanks! I'll replace it. I'll just go get it, and brush me teeth in the kitchen while you have your shower."

Louis was going to tell Harry they surely had time for him to brush his teeth in the bathroom, but Harry was already rushing in and scrambling out with the package with a green toothbrush inside.

Louis shook his head and went into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He could hear Harry in the kitchen, so he looked around his bedroom, including the drawer in the nightstand. Nothing was missing, or even touched, for that matter. Okay, so that excuse was out.

Louis showered, trying not to fantasize once again about Harry being in here last night. When he stepped out of the shower, he thought he smelled something, but decided it was his imagination.

But no . . . from under the bathroom door came the smell of sausage. What? Harry was cooking breakfast? Somehow, that seemed absurd. Louis dressed quickly, donning a blue tee-shirt (yeah, he'd been told it matched his eyes perfectly) and black jeans. He padded out to the kitchen in bare feet to find Harry expertly flipping sausage along with sunny-side up eggs that looked like they belonged in a magazine, so amazingly symmetrical they were. Meanwhile, the toaster was browning bread, and it all seemed perfectly timed.

How did he do that? Arrange things so all the food was ready as soon as Louis emerged from the shower? Harry threw him some hardcore dimples and slid the sausage and eggs onto two plates, then transferring them to the table, only to go back and remove the perfectly browned pieces of toast from the toaster. He pulled two cups of water out of the microwave, and set them on the table alongside the instant coffee, sugar, creamer, butter, ketchup, salt and pepper.

"Sit down, Louis. Breakfast is served." Louis thought his eyes would pop out. He sat down obediently, noting the napkin neatly folded under his silverware.