A Walk in the Park--Larry Stylinson

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Harry took a deep breath, and said what he needed so badly to say.

"Did I . . . did I do it right?"

Louis reached up and set the bedside lamp to the low setting. He needed to see Harry's face for this. To convince him.

The first thing he saw was that Harry's pouty lips were glistening with his own come, and Louis had never seen him look so beautiful.

"Harry, you couldn't have done any better. I came so fast because you're so good."

Harry smiled happily. "I was unsure. You'd tell me if you'd rather I did sommat differently, yeah?"

"Of course I would."

"I wanted to that night too . . . "

"I know, but like I said then, you'd had plenty for one night. I don't ever want to push you, Harry."

"You've been so . . . accomodatin,' I guess is how I should put it."

"You mean the world to me, Haz."

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Over the coming days, Louis struggled with his sexuality. Brooke's uncle had distressed him so that he had more and more trouble concentrating when he read or watched telly. Even when he was at the gym, working out with Harry. It sat in the back of his mind, niggling at him.

It began to haunt his dreams, caused him to think everyone he saw on the street could read on his face that he was gay. He hated to bother Harry with it, but something had to be done. He couldn't keep living like this, hoping it would wear off. Because it wasn't.

He knew enough now to know when he needed help. He had watched Harry seek help, and it had been virtually painless—at least for Harry. That gave him incentive. So he brought it up to Harry one night.

"I think I need to go see the psycho-therapist."

Harry was immediately alarmed. "Why?" he asked as he raised his arms to towel dry his hair. He then put it up turban style like he always did when he got out of the shower. Louis had to tear his eyes away. Every part of Harry's body was so sexy.

Louis' eyes roved over him once again, having not been successful at diverting his gaze. Harry walked around naked some of the time now. There was no reason to hide behind towels anymore when getting out of the shower.

Louis came out of his trance and jerked his eyes back up to Harry's face sheepishly.

"Oh, um. You got me all befuddled," he said.

"I didn't do a thing!"

"I meant, well, you lookin' at me."

"Can you blame me? Your body—God, Harry, I want us to be close every night. And I mean more than just cuddlin' and spoonin.'"

Harry blushed. "I do too. I thought you needed time in between though."

"Are you kiddin?'" Louis shook his head firmly. "I thought maybe it would be askin' too much of you, seein' as you're kinda new to this . . . intense stuff."

"I love it!"

Louis had been keeping his desires to himself. If only he had known Harry wanted to have sex again . . .

"Anyway, let's discuss that after this. You're gonna go back to the doctor?" Harry kept the subject to Louis, even though he was captivated by the thought of more intimacy.

"Yeah. Brooke's damn uncle is the reason. The fookin' losah is makin' me feel bad about meself."

"Aw, Lou. Don't allow him to do that. I don't let it bother me. I act like a duck . . . let it roll off me back."