Into the Blue

2

Right. So when Louis informs Harry that for dives at the house reef, everyone just changes in the hut? He does not expect Harry to simply strip in the middle of the dimly lit room, utterly unconcerned about his nakedness as he takes the time to fold his clothes and place them on the bench that runs through the room.

Yeah. Louis does not expect it at all.

He busies himself with his own wetsuit, righting it after he’d turned it inside out to dry after the morning dive. From underneath his lashes, he steals a quick glance at the swell of Harry’s bum, then another one when Harry turns around to reach for the neoprene shorty they’d picked out for him, and... Oh, yes. Nice. Very nice.

Stripping down to his speedos, Louis shakes out the wetsuit and is about to slide into its left leg when he catches sight of Harry doing the same -- naked. And while Louis might not have a claim on Harry’s dick, at least not yet, human decency requires him to speak up. That, or guy solidarity. If such a thing exists.

“For your information,” with both hands, he tugs the neoprene up to his thighs, “most people wear swimwear under their wetsuit. Up to you, of course.”

“Oh.” Harry stops to look down at himself. “Why? Does it chafe?”

The jut of Harry’s hipbones could be considered obscene, and for the sake of his own sanity, Louis really, sincerely hopes that Harry isn’t straight. He also really, sincerely hopes that Harry is open to casual snogging. And that Niall is too distracted by Liam to mind.

“Well, I had to do it a couple of times when I changed on the boat and forgot to bring my trunks,” Louis replies. “So I speak from experience, and it’s most certainly not pleasant.”

Harry pulls a face, then giggles. Giggles. What even.

He drapes the wetsuit over the bench and crouches down at his bag, presenting Louis with a perfectly lovely view of his backside. If Harry were just a little more responsive to Louis’ advances, Louis would believe it to be an intentional move to increase his frustration. As it is, he suspects Harry is just supremely comfortable with his own body -- not that there is anything to be ashamed of there. Also, Harry could be supremely comfortable with his own body while spread out under Louis. That would be acceptable.

“Okay,” Harry says, “I trust your experience.” He straightens, a pair of stunningly yellow shorts dangling from his fingers; Louis only just manages not to comment on Harry’s questionable fashion decisions.

Even though it’s nearing half past seven, their theory session having run rather longer than anticipated due to Harry taking an interest in even the smallest details, the heat of the day still presses down on Louis. He tugs his wetsuit up to his waist and leaves it there, sweat already collecting at the back of his neck. On days like this, entering the cool water always feels like a blessing.

“Why are you wearing a long suit?” Harry has stepped into his shorts and is now wrestling with the neoprene. “The water isn’t that cold, is it?”

“Actually, you’re only wearing a shorty because it displays your negs so nicely,” Louis tells him, following it up with a wink. “Also,” he adds quickly, “I’m a professional.”

Harry’s chin is tucked against his chest as he fiddles with the zip, voice coming out muffled. “What’s that got to do with it?”

Turning away to gather one of the weight belts, Louis places it next to where Harry’s jacket is already fastened to a tank, fins and mask laid out next to it. “This may sound hard to believe, but if you do at least one dive a day for weeks, you get cold even if the water temperature is twenty-two degrees.”