[ONGOING]
Sinning is a binary act; a man sins or he doesn't. Similarly, Louis was in Harry's bed or he wasn't. Harry cannot sin "only a little bit".
or
Harry is old money and new in town, Louis is the golden boy whose family owns a diner, and the su...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The first time Harry sees him, he's driving down the empty streets of the quaint town of Shermer. It's the last week of spring with summer just over the horizon.
Harry's got the windows of his Chevy rolled down, the evening sun shinning in his eyes and She Loves You by The Beatles playing on the radio.
It's still a bit strange, being in a new town despite having moved here almost two weeks back. It's so different from the city too; there never seemed to be a quiet moment in the city life, always some kind of noise plaguing Harry's ears. San Francisco was evolving after all, as all the cities were. Evolving and developing and coming out of their shells to embrace the new world and all the opportunities it held with open arms.
Whereas in Shermer, all Harry could hear was the distant chirping of birds coming from the trees lining either sides of the road and the gentle hum of the engine of his Chevy. A few cars pass him on the street, the sound of fallen leaves crunching beneath the tires reaching his ears.
Harry pulls his sunglasses down on the bridge of his nose from where they were previously perched on the top of his head, the late evening sun hitting his eyes dead on and making it difficult for him to see the road ahead without squinting.
He's heading home, or rather, his new home. The last of his furniture should be moved in by now and Harry figures he should get a head start on painting the walls in his room with the colour he prefers; and after all the running around he's done for the past two weeks, get a good night's sleep.
He gracefully turns a corner and loosens his grip on the steering wheel and rests his elbow on the window panel, mindlessly humming along to the song playing on the radio and lets his gaze roam around his surroundings.
And that's when Harry sees him.
On the sidewalk, dressed in jersey shorts and a plain tshirt, a ball between his feet as another boy with dark hair tries to steal it from him. The boy is quick on his feet, juggling the ball safely, arms outstretched to keep his balance.
He's young, definitely younger than Harry, probably still in high school, but he's unusually slender and lean for a teenage boy. From where Harry is, he can only see his back and the side of his face as he keeps moving his head, seemingly concentrating on where the ball is going.
As Harry passes them, he can't help but let his eyes flick to the rearview mirror, getting a better look at the boy's face. His brown hair is falling over his forehead and a few probably in his eyes but he doesn't seem to notice or care; as his mouth is stretched into a wide smile that looks seconds away from turning into a laugh. The other boy with black hair is laughing himself, playfully shoving the former with his elbow, feet kicking out to try and trap the ball.
Harry squints at the rearview mirror as he gets further away from them, the shades he's wearing not helping him to get a clear look at the brunette's face.
