TRANSITION

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There in the hall, near where the coats hang, where they leave their snow-covered boots in the winter, where the Thanksgiving notes are glued, Harry was kisssing Louis. And Louis was kissing Harry.

Maybe Louis was never one hundred percent right of the ideas. Maybe sometimes he have done strange things, crazy things, but never like this. Certainly, he's never been so crazy in his life. He had never crossed the line about sanity.

And sanity would have any notion of what he was doing. Which he had not.

And Louis was not sure of Harry's sanity. He did not know much about him, but he was a son of a bitch.

They both were.

And they were even more because they kissed each other, and because they liked. They were loving it. Louis spent a lot of time wondering why he didn't liked kissing Harry before. Was he more afraid? Or did he always like it, but did he feel bad for William?

William didn't matter anymore.

He cared about Harry's fingers around his waist, his lips against his. The smell.

Louis pulled his face back and took a deep breath. Harry's mouth was still so close he could almost feel the fire on his lips.

"Sorry," Harry said.

Louis had his fingers closed in Harry's sweater.

"Ern, okay," Louis swallowed. He didn't want to let Harry go. "What... what are you doing here?"

He left Harry and took a hard step back.

"I ..." Harry shrugged, "I don't know."

Louis nodded, but he did not really understand. He didn't quite understand what all this was about.

"Do you want something to drink?" Louis asked, but he was already fleeing to the kitchen. His lips were still seething.

"Yes," Harry answered behind him.

Louis filled two glasses of chilled water and fought his trembling hands. How would he look at Harry? What would they talk about? And why was he here?

He handed the glass over, and when he opened his mouth, his cell phone rang.

"Hello?" He turned his back to Harry, leaning against the counter.

"Hey Louis, it's Liam. I'm sorry I didn't wait for you, my mother was sick."

"Oh, okay, but how is she?"

"I don't know. I think it's a migraine."

"Hun, say I feel sorry for her."

"Okay," Liam hesitated. "Is anyone there?"

Louis took a step closer to the sink, the further he could get from Harry.

"Yes," he replied, using the same tone as before, unchanged.

"Is it Harry?"

"Yes."

"God," Liam laughed. "You guys don't have any sense?"

"No," he breathed, "I mean, I don't know."

Liam laughed a little more, and Louis glanced at Harry. He was staring at his clasped hands on the bench, his expression relaxed. How could he?

"You don't have to take care of your mother?"

"And you of your brother's boyfriend?"

Louis hung up his cell phone and turned slowly.

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