Louis was positive his knees were going to collapse, and he'd end up on the living room floor, or, if he made it that far, on the pavement leading to the garage. Harry was a liability. He was bound to end up getting Louis hurt, and without even laying a hand on him. His quiet voice, the smell of his freshly washed hair and flesh was making Louis gnash his teeth again.

The younger man's sex appeal was starting to coat Louis from head to toe, suffocating him, and not giving him a moment's peace. Louis began to wonder if he would survive it. No one should have to live like this . . . trying to appear normal—not like electrical currents weren't traveling all over your body, pretending your mouth wasn't bone dry and you weren't aching, yes, aching to touch this handsome, clever, honest, sweet, voice-like-an-oversexed-angel who was walking beside you.

He still didn't even know if Harry was gay. Harry hadn't offered the information, and Louis sure as hell wasn't going to ask him. So it looked like Louis was going to have to endure the torture of Harry's nearness, the scent of him, and his perfection, until Harry decided to come clean. And if he was straight? Louis would have to learn to live with that, he supposed. It wouldn't kill him.

Or would it?

"Man, I'm pumped about grocery shoppin'!" Harry announced as they climbed into the Rover. Louis was shaking his head in incredulity again.

"How can you be pumped about grocery shoppin'?" he asked. "It's me least favorite thing to do besides laundry," he added.

"No! It's fun! Think of the Mallo bars, the ice cream, the Ding Dongs, the Twinkies!"

Louis' eyes brightened just a little bit. Boy, did he love the things Harry had just mentioned. But he also knew Harry was kidding. After all, he'd just been talking about eating healthy last night.

"Oh, not all the time, but a treat now and then won't kill us!" Harry added quickly.

"Wait a minute here, Harry. I've been makin' a bit of an effort to eat better lately, but that's beside the point. Let's get this straight. You aren't gonna dictate to me what I eat. You're me roommate, not me mother."

Harry flashed him a sheepish look. "I know. What I meant to say, is that's how I do it. I didn't mean to make it sound like I was gonna make you eat like I do."

"Well, you better not! I'll unleash me temper on you if you stuff me with asparagus, brussels sprouts and that horrible fiber cereal!"

Harry grinned, but said nothing more as they drove to the store.

It was a nightmare. A nightmare that didn't end for nearly two hours.

Harry began throwing things like soy products, quinoa, wheatgerm, alfalfa sprouts, tofu, greek yogurt, sesame seeds and tempeh into the cart right and left; just as fast as Louis was throwing donuts, cookies, ice cream, brownies, coffee cake, soft drinks and frozen burritos.

"I've liked your cookin' so far, so why do you have to change it now?" Louis was exasperated.

"I can add a little of this or that gradually, and you won't even notice. It'll still be just as good," Harry said, sounding reasonably convincing.

"Okay, look. I'll buy the cart with my food in it, and you buy yours," suggested Louis. Or rather, he more or less demanded it.

"I was gonna pay for all of it this time."

"Well, we agreed to take turns payin,' but I'm not payin' for all your organic, pro-biotic super foods or whatever, and I'm sure you don't wanna pay for all my junk shit food. So two carts, it is," Louis was not going to allow Harry to plea his case any longer.

Control freak, Harry was thinking. But it was also a little bit cute. For some obscure reason he couldn't define, Harry was a little bit turned on by Louis' insistence on following his own little set of rules, and demanding that Harry follow them too. He would sure like to see if he could get Louis to give in a little to him. Give him a little control too. Give and take. Now, that could take a sensual turn.

Oh God, he couldn't be thinking like this! He was about as sure as he could be that Louis was straight, and Harry assuming anything else, or even wishing for anything else was nonsensical and preposterous.

It sounded easy—the notion that they'd each fill a cart and pay for it. But it wasn't that simple. There were the items that made the rest of their meals to consider, like potatoes, bread; not to mention things like toothpaste, shower gel, toilet tissue, paper towels, napkins, etc. Things that needed to be split down the middle.

They tried to figure it out, but calculating half the cost of the miscellaneous items just grew too tedious, and they ended up just splitting the cost of the two carts. Five hundred fifty-six dollars later, they exited the store and went home to put it all away, collapsing afterward. They had argued mildly about where to put all Harry's health foods. Rather, it was mostly Louis complaining about having to find a designated place for them, whereas if it was only himself, he could have put things away in half the time.

They were both hungry, tired and grouchy by the time they'd wrapped it all up—and yes, Harry did occasionally get grouchy, but it took a lot to get him to that point. He explained this to Louis, to which Louis replied, "You wouldn't be human if you didn't get grouchy now and then. Glad to know you're human."

"Did you think I wasn't before?"

"Was beginnin' to wonder about it."

Silently, they fixed ramen noodles to go with their sandwiches. Harry had promised not to cook a health food meal tonight—not even for himself. They were both burned out on groceries, and, for Harry, the nebulous concept of counting calories, carbs, fat grams, protein and fiber was out of the question.

At least now Louis saw that Harry was not some perfect angel who agreed with everything he said. He didn't need that in his life. He needed a balance between the extremes—someone who fell right in the middle. The people he'd endured as a corporate worker were one extreme, and someone who was meek and agreeable all the time was the other. Someone who could hold his own, yet not try to be dictatorial was what he needed in his life. And it looked as if Harry just might make the grade. Especially as they got to know each other better.

"Gotta go to the gym tonight," Louis stated flatly.

Harry sighed. "Alright. I understand. But I'm goin' with you," Harry said with a solidarity to his tone. "I don't want you gettin' robbed."

Louis had forgotten all about that incident the other night. Actually, it had been about a week ago, he supposed. Ever since he'd met Harry it seemed that he had trouble with knowing what day it was. Was Harry that much of a fixture in his life now?

"Oh, so you're goin' only because of that? Not because you want to go with me?" Louis had no idea why he was being so pissy.

"Both," Harry's level green gaze was proof he was not going to cower or let Louis push him around.

Well . . . what could he say to that? Nothing really.

So they worked out together. Harry was clumsy; there was no getting around it. But as graceless and uncoordinated as he was, Harry had to be given major points for try. He was hell bent on learning, even as he tripped on the mats and nearly fell off the exercise bike. He listened to what Louis said and tried to work out as hard as Louis did. It squeezed Louis' heart a little.

Harry couldn't keep his eyes off Louis in a tank top—his defined muscles were spellbinding. And he couldn't wait to get into the shape Louis was in. Harry wasn't in bad shape actually, but next to Louis . . . well, he had a way to go. He needed to beef up not only his arms, but also his thighs and butt. He'd never have a fabulous butt like Louis,' but he could firm his up. His abs could be a little flatter too. And he'd like them to ripple like Louis' did when his tank top rode up when he was working on a machine.

Oh Lord. Harry wanted to press his hand on those abs, feel their firmness, squeeze them. But he was pretty sure Louis would at the least yell at him, and possibly even get physical. Physical in a bad way, not a good one. Oh well. One could dream.

Louis warned him not to try to keep up with him, as his muscles were unaccustomed to it, and he'd get sore. Harry slowed down for a while, but kept "forgetting" to take it easy. So Louis ended up not working out for as long as he would have liked because he knew how sore Harry would be tomorrow.

And he was. At the breakfast table the next morning, Harry nibbled on his toast that was slathered with tofu, grimacing the entire time. From soreness—not the tofu. Louis had insisted that Harry not fix breakfast, and he himself had some shredded wheat merely because Harry looked so forlorn about Louis not getting a healthy breakfast.

"Lots of fiber," smiled Louis, trying to cheer Harry up as he choked a little on the rough, unforgiving cereal. "I tried to tell you, Harry. You can't just jump into workin' out like you did."

Harry popped a couple of Motrins and didn't talk nearly as much as he usually did. He got up and down from his chair as little as possible, and when he did move, he reminded Louis of a ninety year old man.

Still Harry wanted to go with Louis to walk the dogs. His determination always staggered Louis. This wasn't going to go well. But Louis couldn't talk him out of it.

Before Louis had gone a hundred yards, Harry was so far behind that there was no way he'd ever catch up. He walked with short, stiff steps, Louis looking back at him every chance he got. When he got to the dog park, he waited for Harry in front. There was no way Harry was going to be doing any running to get away from dogs today, and Louis concluded that it may be a good thing. It would force Harry to realize the dogs weren't going to attack him.

As he was waiting on Harry, who was almost an entire block behind, Louis heard a familiar shrill barking, causing a chill to go up his spine; realizing it was Brooke's Pomeranian. He'd seen her arriving at the dog park a few times lately, and he'd made a quick getaway, but this time he was trapped.

"You're always in such a hurry!" she whined. "I can never seem to catch up to you."

"Sorry. I'm a busy person, dog-walkin' and all," he explained lamely.

"Why'd you never call me?"

"Um . . . well, there's a lot goin' on in me life right now. And I have a roommate too." Louis was desperately grasping for excuses, and why he mentioned having a roommate, he had no idea. Maybe to impress on her that he just might be too busy for her, without coming right out and hurting her feelings.

"Oh, well, if you're ever free for that cup of coffee . . ." she trailed off, spotting Harry drawing nearer. She was openly staring.

"That's the guy I've seen you with a few times when you were walking dogs, although he was way behind you. Is that your roommate?"

"Uh, yeah, it is." Louis moved away from Brooke, and toward Harry.

Harry had seen the girl approach Louis, saw them talking, and noted that as he got closer, Louis had walked away from her. Was he trying to hide the fact that he knew her? Was she someone he dated? Or was she a friend with benefits? A hook-up, or something more? Harry's mind raced.

His gut also clenched. She was pretty. Was that jealousy he was feeling? Well, if it was, he had no right in the world. He had no claim on Louis. Louis was straight—now he knew it for sure.

"Uh, Harry? This is Brooke. Brooke, this is Harry, me new roommate," said Louis briskly. He couldn't do anything about the situation, and he had to be polite. The dogs were in the park and he couldn't leave them, so he couldn't just tell Brooke to have a nice day, and walk away with Harry. He had to stay here. Oh joy.

"Nice to meet you," said Harry politely, reaching out to shake her hand.

"Oh! You're British too!" Now Brooke literally had stars in her eyes.

She was no doubt awestruck. As awestruck as Louis had been when he'd first seen him. She seemed incapable of motion. She just stood there, mouth gaping open, her dog still yapping away. She seemed to have lost her power of speech, which was probably a good thing, because Louis feared she might ask Harry to go get some coffee, and that he'd take her up on it. Why did the thought bother him though? He didn't know, but he did know that for some reason, he didn't want Harry spending time with her.

Brooke began to look back and forth between them, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. It seemed she was analyzing their reactions toward each other; their expressions. Louis was about to ask her what was wrong when she said something that jolted both Harry and Louis right down to their feet.

"Hey, are you guys boyfriends?" she asked.

The extreme embarrassment was so thick, so engulfing and beyond anything Louis had ever had to face before. Excruciating. He and Harry both made a gargantuan effort to look casual, but their beet red faces couldn't be hidden.

"No! Of course not," Louis finally managed to say, making himself sound disgusted.

"Oh sorry. It's just . . . the way you look at each other . . . "

Was it that obvious? Louis had thought he'd kept it under wraps, putting extreme effort into not eating Harry up with his eyes. But then she'd mentioned Harry looking at him in the same way. Impossible. Harry couldn't be lusting after him. Brooke must have a wild imagination.

Louis looked at Harry helplessly, but Harry seemed to be trying to vanish into thin air. He wouldn't make eye contact, and had slumped as if he was attempting to make himself appear smaller. This was just miserable for all concerned except Brooke.

She was enjoying watching them squirm. They had goo-goo eyes for each other, and she now knew why Louis had never responded to her in the way guys usually did. They were gay!

So she decided she'd conduct a final test, just to be sure.

"Harry? Um . . . are you free, sometime, to maybe get a cup of coffee or something?" She knew she looked good. She always dressed nicely and spent extra time on her hair and make-up when she thought she might run into Louis in the dog park. So if Harry wasn't sweet on Louis, he'd have a positive reaction to her offer.

Harry was gobsmacked. If there was something between Louis and Brooke, why was she coming on to him? Or was she wanting to date both of them? Just the thought made Harry blush anew.

"Oh, um . . . not really. I'm sorry. But thanks for askin.'" Harry didn't know what else to say. Louis stared at him, dumbfounded.

Harry was turning Brooke down?

If the guy was straight, this surely wouldn't be happening. Maybe Harry already had a girlfriend, although Louis didn't see how, considering Harry had been with him almost every minute since Harry had moved in, and as far as Louis knew, there had been no calls from girls. And now that Louis let his mind dwell on it for a few moments, Harry hadn't mentioned girls at all. Neither one had mentioned girls. That just wasn't normal for a couple of male roommates. Something was off here. Well, Louis knew he himself was gay, but if Harry wasn't, then he was acting very atypical for the average guy.

Harry wasn't the average guy. That was the obvious answer, right there. Harry wasn't average in any way. He couldn't be categorized. So Louis got a firm grip on himself concerning reality. Harry was his friend, and that was all. He shouldn't even be thinking of the possibility that Harry might be gay.

Brooke scooped up her yappy Pomeranian and continued to watch Harry and Louis as if they were there for her entertainment. She was slowly coming to the realization that Harry and Louis didn't even know they were yearning for each other. Or even if they knew, they weren't letting themselves act on it.

A dirty, rotten shame that these two attractive guys who shared an apartment weren't in synch. Girls knew how to communicate, but everyone knew men didn't. Brooke was quite the expert when it came to guys. She could tell after only talking to the two of them for a few minutes that they were both gay. They weren't even bi. And she'd bet just about anything that neither knew the other was gay. She hadn't known Louis was gay before, but all it had taken was seeing his face when Harry had approached them.

Why were guys so blind? She shook her head in bewilderment and wished them both a good day, walking away, defeated.

"Was she tryin' to, um . . . come on to both of us?" asked Harry reluctantly. He didn't know if he really wanted to hear the answer. He wasn't into girls at all, and if Louis wanted a threesome or something like that, Harry would have to bow out. Something like that just wouldn't work for him, even if he tried.

"I really don't know. Women fuck me up. I don't understand 'em," Louis mumbled. "Don't really want to, either."

Harry gasped softly. Louis had echoed his own thoughts. He was actually apathetic when it came to girls. Seemed Louis had a similar opinion of the fairer sex.

"Well, happy days. She's gone," announced Louis as he watched Brooke and her diminutive Pomeranian disappear down the street.

"So you don't really like women? That's kinda how you sound," Harry ventured, although he was nearly shaking with nerves from forcing himself to say the words.

"Don't have much use for 'em. Why bother?" answered Louis cryptically.

Now, Louis had clearly told Harry he was not asexual. So what could he mean, other than the obvious? Harry's heart hammered in his chest, wondering if Louis was telling him, in a roundabout way, that he was gay.

"I don't need a girlfriend like her, anyway," Louis continued. "She's shallow and just one-night-stand material."

Uh-oh. Harry had jumped the gun and just assumed, and wrongly so. Louis was not hinting that he was gay, but merely stating that he didn't want a shallow, one-off type of girl.

Alright, so he'd fucked that one up, and that's what he got for fancying that particular idea without having any proof as to the truth. Now Harry felt emphatically depressed, and the worst thing was, he'd done it to himself. Assuming, overthinking. Just the kind of thing he usually strove not to do.

"Yeah, one-night-stands are so . . . superficial," Harry tried to draw the conversation out, hoping Louis would respond and reveal more about himself.

"Yeah, that scene's behind me. Gotta get back to the dogs," Louis threw over his shoulder as he approached the dog park gate.

Harry was so lost in thought that he forgot to retreat. He was still worrying about Brooke's intentions. What if she really did have plans to try to get them together for a threesome? Interestingly, Harry couldn't stand the idea of sharing Louis. He was deathly afraid of losing him. And Brooke totally turned him off. It was Louis he was interested in. Only Louis.