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Louis had never loved anything in his life more than he loved the ocean. From the time he was young his father took him to the docks to pick up shipments from his store, and he was fascinated by the tall waves and the ships that rocked in the harbor. As he grew older he began to spend more of his time there, and often cut classes to watch the sailors dock their boats while he sat learning various knots from men with a few moments of free time. His mother disapproved greatly, and kept a tight leash on him to ensure that he grew into a well educated man who was able to bring home money to help support his family's lavish lifestyle.
Being the free spirit that not even his mother could get a handle on, Louis managed to run away on a whim and ended up sailing the world for the British East India Company. It had started with grunt work, tasks that wore away the delicate skin of an alter boy who had never worked a day in his life. But after proving that he had what a sailor was made of, it seemed that there was no limit to the progress the rookie could make in his first years traveling the world. The rope that burned his hands was nothing in comparison to hanging off of the front hull of the ship, feeling the cool sea breeze whip by and the waves reach up in an attempt to swallow him whole.
The moments may have passed by slowly, but there wasn't a second of it that Louis didn't cherish. The other sailors spoke of new and foreign places in which he could not even begin to imagine. With every voyage, his life opened up bit by bit as he immersed himself in the cultures that varied so greatly in every empire. And though he enjoyed the parties and bustling cities he was thrown into from time to time, no place could ever be better than the middle of the ocean to him. From the top of the crow's nest everything was clear, and he was the highest point in miles. The desolate blue around him twisted and turned under the ship as it tried desperately to knock him back down to Earth, but nothing was able to tug Louis down from his place in the world.
-
It was docking day and Louis' hands were destroyed from the rope burn left on his skin after a particularly harsh storm a few nights before. When he was called up on deck the fresh bandages were tied desperately as he bounded up the stairs behind his bunkmate. The heavy footprints of the rest of the crew followed him, and Louis managed to make it to the top without tripping though the waves rocked the men back and forth in a rougher manner than usual. With one last tug his hands were bound tightly and he swatted towards the closest person in an attempt to show off his gauze work.
If it had been any day previous to the first spotting of land he would have gotten a much more irritated response. But after two months at sea the entire crew was ecstatic to finally get to feel the unmoving ground beneath their feet. So the dark haired man laughed and rolled his eyes before shoving Louis' hand away and lazily jerking a finger towards the captain who strolled across the deck in his best attire. As a speech was given about the appreciation of the hard work his crew had put in, the rest of the men standing on deck shuffled awkwardly as they snuck glances over the side of the ship and into the town below.
As Louis got more brave with his wandering eyes, he noticed a group of men huddled by the plank leading up onto the ship. Scanning them quickly, he realized soon enough that they must have been the dock workers. Most were burly and rough, sporting jagged facial hair and arms that threatened to burst from the tight fitting sleeves of their shirts. They made Louis feel small in comparison, and he absentmindedly puffed out his chest and pushed himself up on his toes to seem larger. Loud barking laughter was heard from below, and the tough crowd shifted to give a better view of its members.
There must have been a dozen men shouting at each other, with their fingers wagging in each other's faces. They seemed to be completely unaware of personal space boundaries, and it reminded Louis a bit of the first few weeks of sailing when things were fresh and no one snapped for just being jostled or bumped into. A few loud words out of the captain's speech snapped him out of his trance and he pretended to be paying complete attention for a few minutes before the droning voice got to be boring again and his gaze drifted back to the shore. A few more men had joined the group, though most of them seemed identical to the rest. Surprisingly there was a much lankier boy in the mix now, and Louis' eyebrow arched as his eyes flicked up and down in observation.
Though he may have been thinner than his colleagues, this boy was taller than quite a few of them. His arms might not have been the size of a child's head, but they were still toned and showed more muscle than the average working class person. Standing with his feet close together and his hands folded behind his back, he listened very carefully to what the person stationed next to him had to say and licked his lips in concentration. Louis smirked as he watched to boy repeatedly make an effort to speak, but the boisterous adults around him barely let him get a word in before they continued to cut him off and left him silent with his mouth still agape.
A quick jab to Louis' side brought him back to his own reality, and he listened half attentively to the end of the painfully long speech before the crew was released. They all bustled towards the edge of the ship as quickly as possible, shoving half heartedly and laughing along with each other until they were stumbling down the plank and swaying dangerously close to the edge. The sea of people obstructed his view, and Louis peered over the quickly moving heads as he planned out his route. While distracted, he staggered to the side and felt himself collide with another person.
"Oops," the voice was deep and large hands reached out to grab Louis' hips and steady him. Looking up to see the boy he had been staring at from the boat, it was Louis' turn to lose the ability to speak. From up close he could now see the small curls that poked out from behind this boy's ears and his eyes that shone like the traces of green in the sea. His heart skipped a beat and he found himself at a loss for words momentarily from the sheer shock of bumping into the stranger.
"Hi," Louis blinked in confusion, but before he was able to give a proper greeting and apologize for nearly knocking them both off of the dock and into the churning waters below he was being tugged away by his bunkmate. Looking back over his shoulder helplessly, the boy smiled at him and gave a quick wave. Then he was jogging up onto the boat and Louis found himself unable to pull himself away and run after him. Quickly he realized that it would have been foolish to do that, so he was thankful to have been tugged away before he could embarrass himself further.
Three pints later he was stationed in a small pub while the laughter roared on around him. Engulfed in his own thoughts, Louis was unable to contribute much to the conversation until a mate reaches over and slapped his cheek to rip him from his trance. From there it was a fake bar fight and another round on the captain while singing along with whatever song the man in the corner strummed out on his fiddle. Hours later he was stumbling out of the bar after last call with an arm slung around the shoulder of whoever offered to watch after him that night.
It wasn't until the cool air hits his face that he remembered long legs and lips as red as the raw hands of a man who's in charge of the sails. The way his chest constricted threw him off, and he blamed it on the alcohol coursing through his veins. Cursing under his breath, Louis fell pliant against his bunkmate as he was dragged across town and to the inn where they were to be staying during their weeks at this port. The racing of his heart didn't cease when he was tucked away in bed staring at the ceiling and willing himself to fall asleep, and the second he closes his eyes the colors on the back of his eyelids burst from the thought of the other boy.
"I will not get attached," his slurs were barely a whisper as he clenched his fists so tightly indents the shape of the moon outside his window were left etched along his palms. Louis repeated the phrase again and again until his voice was hoarse and it was just his lips moving against the darkness of the room. It was nearly daybreak by the time he fell asleep, and by then he had come to the realization that his ridiculous infatuation for the unattainable dock worker could not be slept away.
---
The second morning Louis woke up before the sun and couldn't keep himself away from the water any longer. Though he was meant to go out for breakfast with his bunkmate, he convinced himself that if he could just head down to the docks for a few moments in the salty air he'd be able to make it back in time for the meal. Tugging on his socks as he tripped down the stairs, Louis let the door slam behind him in his endeavor to escape to the place he missed so dearly.
The sturdy planks rumbled beneath his feet as he took off running. The grin on his face widened when the smell of the sea became stronger, and the aggravated shouting of men from the top of masts drowned out the gulls' caws. Red clouds streaked across the sky that resembled the angry brush strokes against the canvas he had been forced to complete during his private school career. Shoving his hair back and out of his eyes, Louis stared up in awe at the massive ships bobbing in the harbor. No matter how long he spent toiling the days away in the middle of the ocean, there was no chance of him getting used to the enormity and elegance of a ship.
"Absolutely incredible, aren't they?" a deep voice broke his thought and Louis jumped in surprise before whipping his head around and tipping to the side slightly. Wide eyed, he managed to balance himself with the help of two large hands stationed at his hips. "I ah, sorry- didn't mean to frighten you. You're okay?" the wavering voice came again, less confident now, and Louis looked up in a huff only to be surprised for the second time since docking.
Timid green eyes met his own, and the aggression faded from Louis' expression instantly. The wispy curls of the stranger were even messier than they had been days before, most likely from the strong winds that had picked up during the week. It was endearing to see a person that much larger than himself acting so nervously just speaking to him, and he reached up self consciously to chew at the skin around his thumb as he awaited a response. With a smirk Louis balanced himself easily on one leg and swatted the apology away with his bandaged hand.
"I am fine," he assured the other boy. "Really. Not sure how you've nearly knocked me over twice already though. I'm usually good at keeping my balance. I think I'll blame it on the ground not moving and throwing me around like it does when I'm stationed on one of those," Louis pointed to the boat closest to them. As if to prove his point, it rocked noticeably against the docks to make the crew aboard stumble from side to side as they shouted out commands and tossed around supplies needed to set sail.
Looking back eagerly, he was pleased to find the boy stifling laughter and staring down at him. Still, he didn't seem to be very relaxed while standing in a position similar to the day before. The large hands had long since moved from Louis' hips, and were now resting behind the brunet's back folded together so tightly his knuckles were white. There wasn't much space between his feet, and his toes pointed inward at each other so that he could have been pushed over more easily than not. Louis noticed the way that he was tilted to his side slightly, and leaned forward to catch every word of the conversation.
"Oh sure, let the ocean take the blame. I for one, think you're just clumsy," and Louis let out an over dramatic gasp as his hand flew up to his chest in faux astonishment. The boy just shook his head but the side of his mouth quirked up into a half smile that revealed a dimple in his cheek. "I'm Harry," he announced suddenly, finally moving from his rigid stance to stick out a hand politely. Louis was used to crude humor and lack of manners from his years at sea, and it took him a moment to properly react.
"Louis," he blurted out just as abruptly, and shoved out his own arm. Their hands bumped against each other, and Harry looked down at the bandages as if intrigued. Instead of mentioning the gauze however, he just quirked and eyebrow and continued to hide the laughter threatening to spill out.
"Like the king?" Harry asked with a small smile and finally grabbed his hand. It was more cautious than a normal hand shake so he didn't injure him further, and it was something so tiny yet so kind that Louis' heart fluttered. He was surprised at how large the other boy's hand was, and he stared in astonishment at the long and slender fingers that managed to curl around his wrist and swipe the sensitive skin along his veins. A shudder ran through his body and he was unable to regain his composure for a few moments. Finally, he completely comprehended Harry's question and his face contorted in disgust.
"Contrary to my name, I am not actually loyal to the French. Out of all of the places that I've traveled to, that has certainly been the least extraordinary one. I am just a sailor; far too lowly to be a king unfortunately," Louis faked a pout. Their hands were still pressed together though they had ceased shaking them up and down. The normal thing to do would have been to pull away, but Louis liked the way Harry's hand engulfed his. So he didn't move it, and when the other boy's eyes flicked to glance down the smile on his face only widened.
"You could be, like, a sea king. Or something," Harry drawled and decided that it was as good a time as any to abruptly yank Louis' arm up so his hand was close enough for examination. The bandages hadn't been changed since the last day on the ship, and they had begun to yellow and wear away. Louis felt slightly embarrassed and only hoped that they didn't reek of rum or sweat like he assumed. "You know, I think that it is definitely time to change these. They're in quite the sorry state,"
Louis felt his cheeks heat up as he stammered in agreement. Harry didn't seem to take notice though, and he just carefully flipped over the boy's hand so his palm was facing up. Fingers trailed along the worn gauze until they reached the edge, and goose bumps sprang up every where the warmth touched. Silence took over and the only noise to break it was the repeating cawing of the gulls circling over head. Louis' head felt light and his body swayed along with the strong sea breeze until he was sure that if Harry wasn't holding on so tightly to his hand he would tip over and crash through the planks of the dock to be swallowed by the gray tide.
There was some sort of conversation exchanged but Louis forgot the words as soon as they left his mouth and he was too entranced to remember anything from the other end. Blinking, he opened his eyes to realize that he was being tugged along away from the pier and into the town once again. Louis couldn't get a hold on reality, but he followed Harry without question though he wasn't sure how exactly his legs were working when he wasn't telling them to move. The next time he blinked he ended up at a small cottage just meters away from where the ocean surged up to meet the shore.
Time moved in slow motion for a few moments, and then sped up until Louis' head was spinning even quicker than before and the floor felt as though it had opened up from under him and he was falling into a deep abyss. Every second made breathing harder and it reminded him of the night he had snuck out of his home and followed his father's map to the docks to play. And he hadn't meant it, but there was something shining in the water and the water was so close to his finger tips that he knew he would be able to snatch it up if he could just reach a little farther. The night was calm enough that the man in the house down the cobble stone road could hear Louis' screaming as he thrashed around wildly, the water filling his lungs every time he took a breath.
His mother told him that nearly drowning was not worth the small locket he had nabbed in return. Louis was sent to his room in wet clothes and a sugarless cup of tea when he openly disagreed with her. With barely enough energy to strip down from the soaking clothes, he collapsed into bed half bare and inched his way under the covers. The moon light shining through the window was used to examine his latest discovery. Louis decided as he fastened the small chain around his neck that his close call with death had not been in vain. Even if it was something small, it made him happy and he believed that it was worth it.
When Louis was snapped out of his trance finally, Harry was standing before him holding a mug of steaming tea with his dimples on display and a curious look on his face. It took a few minutes for the fluttering in his stomach to cease and instead it was replaced by a dull ache in his chest. The way that the brunet looked down at him clouded his thoughts until the only thing there was Harry and not even the crashing of the tide against the gravel outside was able to distract him this time.
"I put in two sugars. I wasn't sure how you wanted it, but I take it with two. And so that is what you get," Harry began slowly because Louis was still slightly dazed and looking around in realization that they were not at the docks anymore and this wasn't what he had signed up for when he crawled out of bed that morning. The silence freaked Harry out, and he sat up slightly setting the tea on the table and looking back towards the small stove in the corner of the room. "I was just... I was kidding. I can get you another cup if you'd like?" The genuine concern in his eyes sent Louis' heart in flips and spins.
"No. It's good. I actually usually drink it this way, you've done an excellent job with this," he interjected and immediately curled his hands around the warm clay mug. Harry relaxed back into his chair and rested his head against the back as if to catch his breath. Louis took the down moment to look around the room and he smiled at how decorative the house was despite its size. "Not the home I expected from a dock worker," he piped up when his tea was half finished and from the corner of his eye he saw Harry beaming.
"I suppose not. I like it quite a bit though. Feels more like home than something bare and desolate would," Harry tutted and got up out of his chair to cross the room and kneel in front of Louis. Once again their hands were pressed together as the bandages were carefully unraveled to reveal raw and peeling skin. "Now this, this is not what I expected your hands to be like. What did you do to tear them up this badly?" he clicked his tongue and it reminded Louis so much of a mother scolding her children that he nearly bent over to press a kiss to the top of Harry's head in appreciation.
The past eight years without a mother had taken their toll on Louis. Even if the relationship that he had with her wasn't the best he still missed being looked after. The men on his ship were all close enough to be brothers, which is what he had grown up wishing for instead of the infinite amount of sisters that kept showing up, but it wasn't the same for him. Harry was gentle and kind and worrisome and Louis decided that he wouldn't mind being coddled for just a while longer since it had been so much time and his hands were in a sorry state.
"It was the ropes. Wind was yanking on one pretty badly and I couldn't get a proper grip. So I just kept holding on while it kept slipping away until a few others came over to lend a hand. It's not the worst rope burn I've suffered from. Not in the least," Louis' voice was soft and he flinched when the other boy's fingers ran over the raw skin. "Still a bit sore though," he mumbled under his breath and Harry let out a chuckle before he turned to get the supplies.
His hands were rough from work but somehow they made every touch soft. The cool rag was pressed from his knuckles to his wrist and Louis gritted his teeth while sucking in a deep breath. Noticing the discomfort, Harry leaned down so his lips were centimeters away and blew carefully to make the pain go away. All at once Louis' heart stopped and jumped up into his throat until he was practically choking. There was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to pull him up and kiss him senseless until Harry was feeling as lost and helpless as him. The new bandage was wrapped gingerly around one hand at a time and fingers lingered at his wrist for a few seconds too long before the loss of contact sent Louis into a frenzy.
It took another two cups of tea before Louis remembered his breakfast plans that he had completely blown off. Though he didn't want to move out of the small chair where he had been facing Harry and discussing his favorite pieces of literature for two and a half hours, he reluctantly said his goodbye with his eyes cast downward and a scowl marking his face. The kiss to the cheek before the door was swiftly closed hadn't been expected, and Louis looked up in surprise expecting to see Harry still there with a sly smile on his face. He reached up to trace the pads of his fingers in the place where the boy's lips had left a brand on his skin and felt his heart swell like the foaming waves lapping against the gravel a short distance away.
Louis walked away slowly at first, and kept all attention on his feet in order to stay steady and upright. In the years before he never had to worry about his balance, it was always something that came easily to him. Harry had an affect on him that only seemed to worsen as time progressed. When Louis finally made it home he ignored the curse words being hurled halfheartedly at him by his mates and staggered up the stairs while promising to be back down for a late breakfast soon. He quietly closed the door behind him with a chest so tight it felt like he was drowning. Out of habit, he reached up to his neck and tugged the necklace from underneath his shirt to hold between his fingers as he sat deep in thought. It was a terrible idea to become involved with someone at a port stop weeks before he had to leave. Though the other sailors may have gotten into predicaments like that, Louis was never one to lose his common sense. It was like he was young again and leaning over the dock, knowing that he would fall in but not caring because of the prize awaiting.
---
Louis showed up with flowers at Harry's door just over twenty four hours later. Never before had he ever done something like this. The daisies and other wildflowers had been a part of the inn's garden, and he stole them then took off running before anyone took notice. As he stood at the other boy's door his hands shook so violently that a few bright petals came loose and pooled at his feet. It was sappy and pathetic and he hated himself for it. But he liked the way Harry lit up when he open the door and blushed the color of a tulip.
"What's the occasion?" Harry giggled and waved Louis inside. In the dim light everything looked different and he caught himself wishing to know what each inch of the house looks like at every moment of the day through every season. These thoughts were dangerous, and though he attempted to brush them away they simply grew stronger with every second he spent dancing around the wooden floor.
"I just wanted to see you," Louis admitted with a coy grin and it seemed that Harry had an even more beautiful blush in the low candle light. He found it fun to see just how red he could turn the other boy. From the pink of a tulip to the scarlet of the fire that roared along the logs a few meters away, he was beautiful in every shade.
Harry scurried off to get something for the flowers which resulted in a small steel trough that he had found somewhere in the yard and never had any use for until now. Louis laughed at his hoarding habits and Harry pouted until he surrendered and admitted that keeping useless materials was a decent idea. For that, he was cooked a full meal. Anything was better than the slop he was awarded on his voyages, and it wasn't long before Louis was following him around the kitchen area poking and prodding and asking just how exactly this meal was being prepared.
"Go away," Harry whined and Louis just threw his head back as he laughed. Then he dipped his finger in a pot that looked as if it was about to start oozing from all of the cracks along the side and the chips out of the top. "It was my grandmother's and it's been through a lot," he defended it mercilessly and flicked a spoonful of the pease-soup at him.
"Did you beat someone with this pan, Harry? Because it looks about as worn down as my mother," Louis cackled while he helped to set the table. It might not have been the fanciest meal he was ever to have, but he was just as excited for pease-soup with Harry as he would have been for Hindu cuisine at an upper class Indian home.
"Your poor mum then," Harry cooed and poured a generous amount of the meal into Louis' bowl.
"Not poor her," he grumbled back with a roll of the eyes. "It's her fault that she's gotten into that mess. Or... was in that mess. Last time I saw her was nearly eight years ago, so I'm not sure how she's faring now. Probably has got more kids if I know her well enough, and I'd like to think that I do,"
Harry watched him intently as he spoke and nodded along carefully. Taking a spoonful of his soup, he blew carefully and let Louis ramble on until he ran out of breath. It wasn't often that he went off on a tangent besides much else besides the price of tea and the feeling he got at the top of the crow's nest. This was different, this was hanging off of the hull of the ship in the middle of a hurricane. They were silent for a moment as Harry waited for his meal to cool down and Louis tried to cool himself down too.
"Eight years is a long time," Harry commented finally, and Louis' eyebrows jumped up briefly to show his disinterest in the topic. There wasn't a lot that he said about his mother to others. She was always this poor part of his life who brought him nothing but the feeling of incompetence and anger. If he talked too much about her, then he realized that he may come to understand why she did the things that she did while he was growing up. He wasn't okay with that. "Why has it been so long?" he continued to pry, and Louis shrugged while he scraped the spoon along the bottom of the bowl.
"I ran away when I was fourteen. I wanted a life at sea. She wanted me to stay back and support the family that never seemed to stop growing. As much as I tried getting involved in the arts and literature and politics... that wasn't anything that made me happy. I mean, maybe if they praised me a bit more... really made me feel like I wasn't throwing everything that I cared about away for nothing, I would have stayed. But more kids came along and suddenly they got all of the approval and attention though the expectations for them were about half," Louis clicked his tongue and swallowed thickly.
Harry reached out and took his hand in his own. With a sad smile he just nodded and listened, he didn't try to justify anything or scold Louis for leaving behind his whole family for his own selfish reasons. There was no sound but the crackle of the fire, the crashing of the waves, and the occasional sniffle. Every few seconds Harry squeezed Louis' hand; a constant reminder that he was there for him.
"You should be where you are happy," Harry murmured and Louis wanted to scream out that he was happy here. But the sea was where he belonged. He had only just met this boy, and there was no way he could give up a life of sailing for the boy with eyes that reminded him of the ocean every time he looked into them. So he stayed quiet and finished his soup while he clung to Harry's hand hoping that his message could get across without words.
---
Louis stopped sneaking over to the docks before the sun rose and instead rushed to get to Harry's house before the second mug of tea left sitting on the kitchen table got cold. The door was left unlocked so when he got there he didn't have to disturb the other boy from whatever book he's become involved in that day. There was never an awkward period between the two of them, and there was always a spare book lying around for Louis to leaf through. He enjoyed reading the notes scribbled into the margins that gave him an insight as to what exactly went through Harry's mind when he fell into the quiet and reserved state during their solemn mornings.
"Louis be quiet and stop fidgeting. This is a good part," Harry quipped quietly from his chair in the corner that was ripped along the arms and had quite a few patches to cover up the worn out fabric. Louis looked down into his mug and finished tea in strained silence. When he finished the kettle was put on again and he ventured on to explore the small house while he waited. It wasn't long until he caught Harry watching him over his book with a small smile.
Becoming bored with the art hung upon the walls and wildflowers strewn across each table, Louis wandered towards the window and stared at the ocean outside. When he reached for the door knob, Harry called quietly for him to put on a sweater so he wouldn't freeze to death and leave a mess of a body to clean up after. Louis didn't have a sweater, so he slunk off into the small bedroom roped off by a curtain and rifled through Harry's clothing until he found something suitable to wear. The sleeves were too long and wouldn't stay rolled up so they constantly slipped just past his fingers to cover up his hands. Louis would never admit how much he enjoyed that.
Without another word Louis made himself a cup of tea without burning the cottage down and wrapped his hands tightly around the mug before going outside and sitting down at the edge of the water. The air smelled of salt and it relaxed him until all of the worries about leaving just a few weeks later melted away and the only thing left was peace and tranquility. After a while, being without Harry got boring and Louis took the last sip of his bitter tea before scrambling back inside. The door was open and the chair had been moved so the other boy had a decent enough view of where Louis had been sitting on the beach.
Harry looked to Louis, and Louis looked back from the doorway trying to decide what was to be done next. Harry's eyes flickered back to his book which looked to be nearing the end, and Louis felt his heart surge with fondness until his knees shook and his hands nearly let go of the mug he had such a tight grip on. Nothing happened for a long time. They both sat shivering partially from the cold and partially from the energy between them that lit up the room. The occasional noise of a page being turned broke the silence but it was obvious that the words were forgotten as soon as they were read.
"Is it too soon for me to be in love with you yet?" Louis asked quietly, not moving from his spot in the open doorway with one foot stationed on the gravel and the other on the dirty floor. Harry did not respond immediately, he just continued to skim the pages of his book until he couldn't even pretend that he was able to maintain his focus anymore and he shut the back cover. The silence that followed dragged out until the only audible noise was the erratic beating of their hearts that seemed to answer each other with every thud.
"'Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?'" Harry quoted finally, and stared at Louis with such adoration and hope in his eyes. The only feeling he could compare to the fluttering in his stomach was when he had slipped while climbing up to adjust something from the crow's nest during his first voyage. His heart had fallen and practically burst from the fear of danger, and as he fell time slowed down around him until the landing which was so abrupt and unexpected that the wind was knocked from his body.
Louis crossed into the house and let the door close behind him as he crossed the room filled with purpose and intent. It was impossible to get a proper breath in and his face was red with fear etched into his features as he got closer to Harry. The book still sat in his lap and he made no attempt to move it. Louis continued to fall with adrenaline rushing through his veins and a billion thoughts swarming through his brain. Cupping the other boy's face in his hands he froze momentarily and hung back as every second he had spent the last few weeks with Harry came rushing back.
Their lips crashed together and it was like he had been thrown from the highest place in the world and crashed into the turmoil below. Harry smiled against him, and sat pliantly with his hands resting in his lap, fingers tracing over the yellowed pages of the book. Louis pulled back and looked down wild eyed with his lips a slightly darker shade of red and his face the color of a cardinal. The other boy was almost unaffected besides his ridiculous grin, and he pushed himself out of his chair to kiss Louis once more before he slipped across the room to begin dinner.
"I'm leaving for India in two weeks. Since it's close to summer and all, the monsoons will be right for it," Louis spoke quietly, still hanging over the deep burgundy chair. His breathing was ragged and nervous, and every inch of him quaked at the thought of never coming back to this house again. Getting attached to somewhere was dreary as this was not something he had spent a second worrying about on his voyage over, but now just the idea of leaving tore him apart.
Harry didn't reply, though he had heard the confession. Instead he fumbled around with his scarce ingredients that always were able to provide a decent meal. Louis wanted to scream at him for some sort of reaction, but there was nothing that could make any of this better. It didn't matter what they were feeling, that wouldn't stop the ship from sailing out of that harbor a lifetime too soon. The ocean was Louis' home. It was where he belonged. That had always been the case, and it wasn't going to change abruptly nearly halfway through his life.
But looking around, he noticed the cheap art hung crookedly on the walls and the wilting flowers drooping in their vases. The rusty kettle with the broken handle, the chipped and cracked mugs lining the table in need of washing, the furniture that was practically falling apart at the seams only to be patched back together or fixed with rope. Harry hunched over the destroyed pot slaving away for a meal that would be less than mediocre, and suddenly Louis wanted nothing more in his life than this. Every last crummy detail, he wanted them all and he didn't care how average of a life it was or how dreary it might get.
The night went on, and the constant need for the two of them to be touching seemed to overrun them. Whether it was holding hands during dinner, or an attempt at teaching Louis how to properly ballroom dance for his next meeting with the queen, or sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace exchanging childhood stories with their shoulders just barely brushing, they were never more than a few inches apart. It was obvious that they wouldn't have a lot of time left together though neither one of them dared to mention it aloud again. Instead they huddled together and spoke in hushed tones so they wouldn't break their little bubble that secluded them from the reality of the outside world that threatened to yank them apart.
Louis had managed to fall asleep curled up into Harry's side while he read out of a large poetry book that he had stolen in his early teen years from a book shop a few towns over. The pages smelled like security and familiarity, so before long his head was lolling against the other boy's shoulder. When Louis' eyes fluttered open again he felt weightless, and looked around confusedly to see Harry above him. He was carried into the small bedroom, and before he could argue he was placed gently onto the bed with the thick and worn blankets tugged up to his shoulders.
"Just stay," Harry whispered when Louis babbled incoherently about being able to walk back to the inn easily since he wasn't drunk. The room fell quiet after that as he stopped arguing and with a tiny wave Harry disappeared from the room to go finish his book and fall asleep on the couch. Louis stared at the stars through the grimy window and wondered if he should stay forever instead of just the night.
---
The night before Louis was meant to leave for India he shirked away from dinner and ran across town in the pouring rain. The clothes clinging to his skin made it uncomfortable to even breathe but he didn't think about that. The only thing that he could comprehend was the limited amount of time that he had left with the boy who came to mean so much to him over the past weeks. Not a second had gone by since the first day that they had docked when Harry wasn't filling up his thoughts and taking over his life bit by bit. Before he would have been over joyed to go back out to see to explore the vast world and discover every inch of new culture that he could manage. Now, he wanted nothing more than to curl up next to the fire with a mug of tea with his fingers absentmindedly carding through curly hair.
When the door opened and Harry stood before him already holding a fresh cup of tea and a blanket, Louis knew that this was home. Nothing else could compare to the sense of security and belonging he felt when sitting in the quaint room decorated with cheap art somehow scrounged up on a dock worker's salary. The incredibly mediocre food that was just barely enough for the two of them tasted better than any Asian delicacy as long as Harry was the one he was eating with. Louis had spent his entire life running from place to place to try and find a place that he belonged, never really discovering anywhere that caught his attention for more than a few days. But here, here he was happy.
"You should be with your mates," Harry spoke quietly with his eyes cast downward into the cup resting in his over sized hands. The blanket was held out on his arm and Louis took it gratefully as he shuffled through the threshold and stood quaking in the corner of the room. After stripping off the majority of his clothes to prevent any illness, he covered himself with the thick wool and let out a small sigh of relief. "You ought to be with them preparing for the big day," he added almost bitterly.
"But I don't want to be with them," Louis argued and took a hesitant step forward. He took the mug of tea and set it on the table so Harry would look at him properly. Taking the boy's face in his hands he tilted his chin upward and pecked his lips lightly to prove his point. "I want to be here," he murmured and wrapped his arms tightly around Harry's torso to bury his face in his neck. Harry was hesitant to hold him back, it was obvious that he was just as terrified as Louis. But reluctantly he melted into it and before long they were wrapped up in each other swaying back and forth to the beat of the rain on the roof.
They sat down to dinner with the chairs much closer than usual and their hands enclosed around each other warmed Louis up much more than the watery broth was able to. Harry leaned over to kiss him languidly with his eyelashes fluttering against the blush of his cheeks. The candles that flickered on the table wavered with every laugh that escaped their lips and threatened to run out by the time they had finished their slow meal. Saving every second together was something that they did without admitting it aloud, and this night was more urgent than the ease and carelessness of the weeks previous.
The book sitting on the chair was nearly finished, but for once Harry didn't pull himself away to delve into it. Instead he dragged the two of them over to lay in front of the fireplace with his head resting in Louis' lap. The shadows that danced around the room grew with every story that they told and soon the rain came to an end to leave the room eerily quiet. The unmentioned day hung thick in the air as their laughter died out and an uncomfortable lull took over.
"So when I first met you, you said that France was boring," Harry yawned and rolled onto his side to tug Louis down to face him. The boy nodded in agreement and smiled at something so small that was remembered so much later. Sometimes it may have seemed like Harry was worlds away on his own, disconnected from the reality in which he was always so eager to escape for some reason. It made Louis feel good to know that when he spoke, it was listened to and not just heard. "If that was so awful, then what's your favorite place that you've traveled to?"
The memories of late Indian summers spent attending Hindu celebrations with such vibrant colors and people flashed back instantly. Spending every cent of his hard earned money on the cuisine that couldn't compare to anything that he had ever gotten at home. There were weeks spent in African ports with the sun shining bright and the culture so overwhelming that he barely had a chance to breathe while taking it all in. He had seen the markets set up and watching the men bicker and haggle as he attempted to swipe an apple or two during the ruckus on a dare to prove that he was the bravest and most reckless of the bunch. There were so many places where he had been accepted into a completely new world that continued to astonish and please him with every passing second. Yet only one place stuck out in his mind as somewhere that he could truly refer to as his favorite.
"Here," Louis whispered in all honesty as the rain began to pick up again and nearly drowned out his weak voice. "With you," Harry looked up at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world and kissed him until Louis could taste the tears rolling down his cheeks. "It's going to be okay," he promised, though he wasn't sure what 'okay' entitled exactly. Harry choked back a sob and rested his forehead against he other boy's shoulder to catch his breath and regain his composure.
"Don't leave," he begged, his fingers clawing at the now dry fabric hanging loosely off of Louis' body. And he wished with every bit of him that he could stay and continue his life in this little village waking up to curly brown hair and sea green eyes every morning. But he had spent the majority of his life working his hardest to get to where he was now, and if he backed out of the voyage at this point he may never get a chance to go out to sea again.
"You know that I have to," Louis swallowed and Harry pushed himself away to move across the floor with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were red and puffy but he roughly wiped any tears that may have been left over away and averted his eyes for as long as possible until Louis crawled after him and held his face so gently and lovingly in his hands that Harry gave in and looked up brokenly at him. "Wait for me," he mouthed and before he could be denied the ridiculous thing he was asking for he pressed their lips together.
"I will," Harry breathed out as soon as they parted, and he blinked dazedly as his willingness to do something that may take years to accomplish. But it was for Louis, and if he was going to do anything massive it ought to be for the boy he loved so deeply that his hands shook and his heart practically beat out of his chest at the sound of his voice. "But you have to promise to come back for me,"
"One last voyage. And then I'm yours, Harry. I promise you that," Louis kissed him again and again as if Harry was the gravely shore and Louis was the ocean which couldn't keep away for more than a few seconds. They crashed into each other like waves and clung to each other while the fire died out slowly. They didn't need it though, they had each other to keep warm.
The first signs of sunlight turned the horizon pink and Louis sat up slowly to stare disdainfully out the window at the morning. Though he had always been the first one to board the ship and start with the preparation to leave for the departure day, he wouldn't have been surprised if today he was the last to show up. Harry excused himself to the kitchen to make breakfast and Louis caught him with tears streaking his face and hands that shook so violently the bread he had attempted to cut was jagged and uneven.
Louis cradled him against his chest as they sat on the kitchen floor and by the time Harry had worn himself out from the quiet sobs that sent tremors throughout his entire body the porridge was burnt. They ate it while speaking sweet nothings to each other quietly until the sun had properly come up and Louis was far more than late. It was worth any punishment to see the other boy for just a few moments longer however, and he purposely spent extra time putting on his shoes and coat just to be in the same room as Harry for a little while more.
"We're going to be fine. We'll make it," he promised weakly, and thought he wasn't entirely sure how much truth there was to the statement he knew that he would do anything to return and have everything be the same way it had been during these last weeks. Harry held his hand and bit his lip nervously. Louis ducked his head under to kiss his cheek and a small smile spread across the boy's face. "You'll be fine without me here for a while. Survived this long without me, we'll both do well enough,"
"'Doubtful it stood, as two swimmers that do cling together and choke their art,'" Harry recited, and Louis rolled his eyes because even in their final moments together he was being cryptic with his quotes to express feelings. Still, his heart ached with adoration for the simplicity and beauty that was Harry.
"I love you. I'll be home soon," Louis leaned against the doorway and pulled Harry close to attempt to remember every aspect about him for their time apart. With one last long kiss pressed to the boy's forehead, he took a step back and stumbled onto the cobblestone behind him. The door closed slowly, and Louis stood still for a few moments after Harry disappeared trying to will his legs to take him in the direction of the docks instead of straight back into the house.
By the time he made it to the ship, he was the last one to show up. His mates acted as if they hadn't seen him in years and sarcastically congratulated him on joining them. The fake smile he returned was easily believed and before long he was being ushered up the planks and onto the creaking deck of the ship. The ground rocked beneath him, but it didn't feel like home anymore. The hole in his chest couldn't be filled by a life at sea anymore, and the fresh rope burn that stung his hands hurt far less than the feeling in his gut.
The last thing that he had expected as they sailed away was to see Harry standing at the docks, but as he finished adjusting his station he noticed the tall lanky body with his feet pressed together and his hands clasped behind his back. Louis ran to the side of the boat and held over the railing breathlessly, reaching out a hand to wave wildly. Harry's mouth moved as he broke his stance and stood dangerously close to the edge, but Louis couldn't make out what he was saying. Helplessly he cupped his ear to show that he couldn't hear, and Harry repeated himself with his voice just barely audible over the harsh winds and shouting of the crew.
"I love you too," Louis continued to wave until the dock was just a dot on the horizon and he was being called over to help out his bunkmate with fixing a sail.
---
My Dearest Harry,
I do hope that you've been receiving all of my letters. I never know just how long it will take for them to get from wherever I am in the world back to you. I write to you nearly every chance that I get, whether it's after dinner or in the middle of the night when I'm unable to sleep from the unbearable ache in my chest that comes along with missing you. Last time we stopped at a port I mailed nearly thirty letters that were bursting from the amount of paper I packed into each envelope. It meant skipping dinner that night as well as drinks from the pub for the week, but that was okay. It's worth it to be able to talk to you. Even if it's only one sided.
I wish that you were able to send me letters as well. Nothing could make me happier than being able to read about how your week was or what book you managed to finish within a few hours. I'd like to know your favorite quotes of the weak, and imagine your voice as you write to me about whatever ridiculous things your colleagues did to haze you that day. Every night I hope and pray that you are as well and happy and healthy as can be. If I was able to receive letters during my journey I would be a lot less nervous when thinking of you. I would also be much, much happier. It's been hell not being able to hear from you, and I wish I had an address for you to write to.
We're getting to the last leg of our journey. I should be home within the next few months. Africa is nice this time of year, though no where is as nice without you. I see you in everything that I do. From the early morning sea that is the color of your eyes to the burnt porridge I eat for breakfast that is unbearable without you next to me making fun of it. I've bought a lot of books, mostly ones that I recognize from your infinite shelves so I can feel closer to you. Some though, I have ventured to discover on my own and hope that when I arrive you will read them and tell me every thought you had on every word of every line. I miss your voice dearly.
Every day is the same. I think I may be going mad. I never realized how repetitive this lifestyle was. Every morning I wake and burn my hands with the same rope. Then I eat the same boring food (which is never nearly half as good as yours) and listen to the same stories of men who all look the same. I have been bored enough to offer to swab the decks just for some change in my life. My bunkmate has become worried about me, and I don't have the heart to tell him that this will be the last of my voyages. It's clear to me now that this was a lifestyle for me when I was younger and didn't have a care in the world. Everything has changed, and I don't know how to feel about that. All I know is that life at sea isn't the same as it had been before.
It is dawn now and I must go to the crow's nest to be the lookout for land. I think that you would like it up there, and I wish that you were here so I could show you how calm and unimportant everything looks from that high up. You would scold me for being foolish and hanging off of the side to feel the wind rushing against me. Don't worry- I've been more safe since I met you. I will write more when I get the chance, my love. Every second without you is wasted. I am homesick for a person and not a place.
All my love,
Louis
---
It had been just under two years since Louis was in the small harbor town where he met Harry. With a duffel bag slung over his shoulder he gawked at the stone buildings and people mulling around that hadn't seemed to change in the slightest. Without a second thought he was able to navigate his way from the docks to the portion of the village where he had spent most of his time. His heard beat erratically in his chest and the world spun as his pace quickened and he nearly sprinted towards the small cottage to which he was able to consider home.
Louis knocked at the door before falling back a few steps and taking in the world around him. The sky was as gray as he remembered it, and the incessant cawing of the sea gulls was barely a background noise compared to the waves crashing along the shore. It seemed like ages until the knob on the door was fumbled with, and he nearly keeled over to vomit in the bushes when the door creaked open.
Harry stood looking just as perfect as Louis had remembered, and he suddenly felt incredibly small because of the severity of this moment. In all of the time he was away he had never been able to hear back from the other boy. For all he knew, Harry could have grown sick of waiting for so long for someone he had only known for a short period of time to return and moved on. There may have been someone living there with him now, getting to listen to rants about terrible book endings or drink tea that was always slightly too bitter and hot. The tension built up and he was unable to speak, so he stood with his mouth opening and closing like a fish trying to remember the grand declaration of love that he had spent months planning out for this moment.
"You interrupted the best climax of any book that I've ever read you know," Harry's voice caught in his throat and Louis let out a small laugh as he was pulled forward and held tighter than ever before. It was hard to determine whether his inability to breathe came from the grip around his torso or the overwhelming feeling of being home again, but he assumed it was a mixture of the two.
"How terribly rude of me," he laughed and at the sound of his voice Harry's breath hitched. They stumbled back inside, still tangled up in each other while each trying to sort out their emotions which resulted in a mixture of laughter and sobbing. Louis refused to let them separate farther than a few inches and they managed to crash into every piece of furniture on their way to the special spot in front of the fireplace.
Louis was given the cup of tea that Harry had made for himself, and they curled up together on the floor while exchanging tall tales of what had happened since they'd seen each other last. Louis leaned down to kiss Harry in the middle of his sentence and he hadn't pulled away for more than a second before he continued on with his story, using dramatic hand motions to animate everything. Things settled back to normal relatively quickly, and they stared at each other adoringly until the night had passed by and the early morning light cast shadows across the small room.
"I'm glad that you're home," Harry yawned with his head positioned in Louis' lap and the boy's fingers carding slowly through his hair until he dozed off.
"So am I," Louis admitted with a wide smile. The rest of the world may have been exciting and adventurous and ready to explore, but there was no where that he would have rather been than wherever Harry was.