He was drifting, spinning, flying over the ranch. Looking down at the hay, the greenery, the animals, and surrendering to a sense of wonder and belonging. This felt like home.

Suddenly he was standing in the middle of one of the pastures, Harry standing directly in front of him. Louis wasn't sure what he should do. He lowered his head as if to stare at the ground, in apparent submission. Harry smiled a rare smile; it took over his face completely, dimples beckoning him as Harry crooked a finger in a gesture that encouraged Louis to come closer.

It was amazing how Harry's face was transformed with just a smile into the face of a gentle, kind soul, and it was amazing how strong the emotions were without a word being spoken between them. Louis approached him eagerly. He couldn't get to him fast enough, even though only a few feet separated them. Louis felt as if his heart would shatter if he didn't get to Harry right now.

Harry's arms opened wide as soon as Louis was close enough, and they enfolded him. Protected him, claimed him, and he knew there would never be anything to fear as long as he was with Harry.

Louis leaned back, Harry's arms still holding him, and gazed into those sparkling green eyes that seemed to reflect the sun.

"Harry, I . . . " he began.

Harry shook his head, his shiny curls bouncing softly. "No, Louis. Don't say a word. All you have to do is feel."

The unaccustomed warmth of the sun streaming through the window and across Louis' face awoke him. It was entirely too bright when he squinted at it, and so he closed his eyes again in protest. Why, oh why, had his body decided to wake up, and abandon that dream?

The dream had been so vivid. The hug had held a thousand sentiments. Passion, intensity, and something else that eclipsed everything else. But Louis could find no word for it. He hadn't wanted to leave the dream – it had vanished much too soon. The disappointment hung on him heavy like a dark, lonely cloak, and he mourned the loss of the serene harmony he and Harry had seemed to share in the dream.

Why do good dreams always have to end so soon?

It took a moment for his brain to lose it's fog, and then he realized what had happened.

They'd talked until really late last night, and then had fallen asleep, both of them . . . on the couch? A moment later, Louis realized the warm feeling all around his body wasn't just the sun – it was another human body. Oh God, Harry's body.

Harry was practically wrapped around him. Both arms enclosed him and one leg was stuck between Louis' legs. They were side by side on the couch, so they were pressed up tight against each other. There was barely room to even breathe. Harry was gonna have a cow when he woke and saw the position they were in. But what to do?

Shock zinged all over Louis' body. And not just shock. Also arousal. Instant, rock hard arousal.

Aching arousal. The kind of arousal that consumed. And it was consuming Louis, finger by finger, limb by limb.

They were both fully clothed in the sweats they'd put on after their showers, but to Louis they might as well have been naked. Only their sweats separated them, and Louis' hard-on was pressed up against Harry, halfway between his groin and belly button. Harry's face was buried in Louis' hair, and he breathed softly and evenly in sleep. Since Louis was the one against the back of the couch, there was no getting away. If he pushed Harry at all, Harry would fall off the couch, onto the floor.

So . . . he pondered his predicament, and concluded he'd have to stay here, just like this, and wait for Harry to wake up, his cock throbbing against the front of his sweats in time with his heartbeat.

He'd never been anywhere near this close to Harry – their bodies touching everywhere. If it were up to him, Louis would opt to stay this way for a very long time, if not forever. But reality being only a breath and a slumber away, his luck ran out. Harry woke just a few minutes later.

And was appalled. It was crystal clear when Harry's breathing suddenly stopped, and then became a gasp a second later. He jerked his head back, his eyes flew open, fastening onto Louis' own eyes, aghast disbelief barefaced evident as he processed where he was now, and the night before.

Realizing his arms were embracing Louis' torso, panic reigned, and he pushed off of Louis' shoulders hard and fast.

"Harry, you're gonna . . . fall," Louis finished weakly as Harry hit the floor with a thunderous thud.

Dignity stripped away, Harry just laid there for a few moments, still astounded and mute. His eyes found Louis' again, and they almost pleaded, wanting to will all of this away.

"Look, Harry. We both fell asleep watchin' the telly. No biggie."

But it didn't seem to appease Harry at all. He rubbed at his eyes and tried to focus. "How . . . how'd we end up . . . like that?"

"I just said, we fell asleep. The couch is small – not big like a bed. It just happened."

Well, that hadn't come out the way Louis had meant it to. It had sounded dodgy as hell. "Neither one of us is to blame!" Louis quickly amended.

Harry unfolded his long body and used the coffee table to get up off the floor. He was indisputably still half asleep. Just awake enough to know he'd woke up holding another man, lying on the couch! He was unnerved, and Louis actually felt sorry for him.

"I've never . . . I mean, wakin' up with a bloke! I didn't mean to . . . " Harry stammered.

"I know you didn't! Neither one of us meant to! We were just super tired and sleepy, that's all." Why was Harry making such a big deal out of it, anyway?

"I've never done anythin' like that before, and why didn't you do anythin' about it?" Harry said, his voice faintly whiny, but his eyes were confrontational.

Louis was getting frustrated, as he felt Harry was being overly dramatic.

"Are you quite finished?" asked Louis."What could I do about it? Remember, I was the one with me back against the couch! And stop actin' like the world is gonna end! I didn't fancy it any more than you did!"

The lie left his lips and hung there in the air, as if it would explode, and then Harry would know the truth. Bollocks! Was he mad? His imagination was running wild.

Get a grip, he commanded himself silently. He was acting as foolish as Harry.

Presently, some reason started to trickle into Harry's numb brain when he realized Louis hadn't planned it that way any more than he had, and no one had tried to take advantage of anyone.

The worst part of all of this was that their bodies gave them both away. Wearing sweats meant that when they became aroused, their sweat pants tented in front. Harry tried putting his hand casually in front of it, but that only made it more obvious. Louis stayed on the couch as long as he dared, hoping his erection would subside quickly. Vaguely, he was aware it was humorous, but the humiliation overshadowed it.

"I'm glad I don't have family in this country," grumbled Harry. "If my sister or mother walked in, they'd be sure we were fags!"

The word floated maliciously in the air. It cut Louis to the bone, and he wasn't even sure why. He schooled his features carefully and even forced himself to laugh woodenly. He made a mental note that Harry couldn't have known he was gay, so it wasn't meant to offend him.

"Stop bein' so stroppy."

"You sound so Yorkshire," said Harry, looking a little flummoxed. "I'm sure you're from part of Yorkshire."

Why the sudden change in topic? Louis was fine with that though. He was tired of Harry lamenting about them falling asleep together.

For some reason, Harry's remark caused a well of pride to rise in Louis' chest. It seemed he could finally claim something, as his own, and that was Yorkshire. If Harry was right, that was.

He shrugged. "And did you say you're from Cheshire?" he asked, realizing he hadn't asked Harry much about his life because Harry had seemed reluctant to share anything.

"Holmes Chapel, Cheshire."

"Oh." Louis was pleased to realize he knew where that was, and he had a very vague memory of what it looked like. Yorkshire too, although he still couldn't tell you what part of Yorkshire he was from. His memory was still so spotty and fuzzy.

"Where you're from is more posh, yeah?"

Harry brightened, glad for the change of subject. "Yeah, there's more white collar workers there. How did you know that?"

"Not sure. Maybe it's sommat that I retained when I lost me memory."

Harry, still a bit shaken up, sat back down on the floor and scooted back on the carpet, putting some space between himself and Louis.

"Kick me off the couch and ice me out, why doncha?" Louis was teasing Harry again, and somehow, it softened the harsh reality of what they'd woken up to this morning. Made it easier for Harry to bear. Apparently, reflected Louis, Harry was at least somewhat homophobic. Or maybe not. Perhaps he was merely shocked.

"I don't know how we ended up like that."

Was Harry going to beat this horse to death?

"It got colder last night. We had no blanket," Louis reminded him, trying to keep his cool. A blanket had been there, but not on them. It had been draped over the back of the couch instead.

"Besides, it was you who was wrapped around me like a French whore." Louis laughed, enjoying the look of near-horror on Harry's face. But moments later, Harry evidently saw the humor in it, and cracked a smile, two shy dimples playing hide-and-seek. Louis' heart was tweaked a little bit, and he found that drawing a breath was a little difficult. His chest seemed to be squeezed, his throat tight.

"You're a legend, Styles. You'll die an early death keepin' that grumpy look on your face. But when you smile . . . well, let's just say you light up." Louis was embarrassing himself as well as Harry.

Harry's face reddened. "Guess I needed a little humor. Especially now . . . "

"After what happened on the couch," Louis finished Harry's thought. Thing is, nothin' happened, so stop flippin' about it."

"It's just . . . too weird."

"Harold, give it a rest!" said Louis in near exasperation.

After that, conversation got easier and before long, Harry seemed to have forgotten all about his horror upon waking.

"Hey, want a toastie?" he asked Louis. Louis loved toasted sandwiches.

"Sure! After we feed the animals and do mornin' chores."

Harry was out of touch, reality had kind of slipped away for a little while, and he had somehow forgotten all about the things they had to do. The first time in over four years! He was ashamed. Just because they were taking a couple of days off didn't mean he could forget to feed the animals. But at the same time he knew the horses would be neighing and the chickens would be raising a fuss if he didn't get out there soon.

Bawk, bawk, BAWK! A disgruntled hen protested as if she'd read his mind.

"What time is it anyway?" he asked.

"Nearly seven."

"Holy shit!" They went outside in their sweats, not bothering to dress, since they'd be coming right back inside afterward.

Less than an hour later, they sat on the couch, eating toasties, and the melted cheese threatened to run down and drip off their chins. Monkey was between them, enjoying the crust Louis was giving him. Harry was trying to forget how good it had felt to have Louis in his arms. He'd been stunned, sure. But it didn't stop him from enjoying it those last few seconds before he'd pushed off the bloke and fell off the couch. He'd wanted to stay like that, but doing so would have raised major suspicions with Louis. He wondered if he'd wrapped Louis in his arms like that, or if Louis had snuggled up to him. He supposed it was mutual, aside from the fact that they had been pretty much squished together anyway.

Monkey jumped off the couch with the piece of crust, munching it happily.

"Crumbs on the floor!" accused Harry. "Lick 'em all up or you're in trouble!" Louis giggled as Monkey did just that.

"I can't believe how cool it got last night," Louis observed.

"Well, summer isn't here yet. Sometimes the night can take quite a drop in temperature this time of year. When we first got up, I almost wanted to put a jumper on."

"Yeah, me too. Even on top of sweats."

"Well, enjoy it, because in summer it won't cool off as much at night."

"Damn, you mean we won't be able to cuddle on the couch?" Louis was starting to love razzing Harry because it was entertaining when he got a reaction. This time, Harry shot him a scary looking stink eye.

Louis decided to give it a rest for now.

"Let's get sommat special for dinner tonight," suggested Louis as they ate their egg salad sandwiches for lunch.

"You mean, like, drive twenty-five minutes into town?" Harry grumbled.

"Why not? I'll drive if you want. We have the time, remember?"

He was right, Harry concluded. They had at least one more day free, or maybe two, depending on how they both felt about it.

"You can't drive. You don't have a Driver's License," Harry reminded him.

Louis looked crestfallen, and Harry regretted saying it. He knew how he'd feel if suddenly he had no Driver's License.

"We'll fix that though, as soon as you get your memory back," he amended. Louis ignored that comment.

"How about havin' dinner out? Not an expensive dinner, but just for a change."

Harry thought about it for only five seconds. "Nope. Too many people might get the wrong idea."

"What? About a rancher and his hired hand havin' dinner?" Louis was floored. Harry really was on the paranoid side. He also was extremely anti-social.

"We'd only be there about an hour, and what do we care what anyone thinks, anyway?"

"I said no!" Harry asserted his dominance, reminding Louis at the same time that he was the one decision-maker around here. So Louis didn't push it.

"We should go by the sheriff's office tomorrow when we're in town to see if anyone's reported you missin.'"

Louis' heart dropped to his feet in an instant. He felt twisted up on the inside. What a way to ruin this mini holiday they were having! He'd been excited about going to dinner, and now he didn't want to go to town at all, for any reason. But Harry wouldn't understand, and he couldn't fault him for that. Harry didn't know how utterly happy and fulfilled Louis felt living here. And of course, Louis couldn't tell him, as he knew it wouldn't be articulated the way he wanted. He wouldn't be able to find the right way to say it without it raising Harry's eyebrows.

"Oh. Okay," he said, his voice suddenly dropping several decibels.

"Don't you want to?" Harry picked up on it like the observant, wily fox he was.

There was no way Louis was going to agree, and thus outright lie to Harry.

"Well . . . not really."

"Seriously? You don't want to know if someone's lookin' for you?" Harry was dumbfounded.

"Look, if I was that important to someone – me family or whatever, they'd have been by here by now."

Harry slipped his hand under his shirt and scratched his belly thoughtfully. It exposed a bit of skin, and Louis' eyes were right there, fastened on that patch of bare skin. He admonished himself, and jerked his eyes back up. Luckily, Harry hadn't noticed.

"Don't believe you're not important to someone." Louis could tell Harry wanted to say more, but he seemed to lack words, much like Louis felt right now. "You'll do as you please."

Harry had left it in his hands.

Louis' face was a study of relief, and that had Harry curious. He had to pick Louis' brain; try to find out as much as he could as to where Louis stood.

"Do you like it here?" he asked.

"Yeah. Yeah I do. A lot."

Louis was wondering if Harry was hoping the sheriff would be able to help them find Louis' family or significant other. He didn't expect Harry to understand how he felt, but nevertheless, he was hurt. He didn't know why. His emotions were suddenly jumbled and overflowing.

Most people, he reckoned, would be eager to find out about their former lives. To meet their families, friends. Louis had no desire to, and that had him in a knot. Was that normal? Was it normal to want to just stay with Harry and pretend he'd always been here? Denying to himself that he'd had any other life?

"Do you want me to stay here?" he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Harry's eyes wouldn't quite meet his. Harry shifted his weight from one buttock to the other, looking like he couldn't get comfortable.

"I told you it's workin' out fine."

"But . . . do you really want me here?"

Harry cleared his throat. "I don't know if it'll work out long-term, but so far things are good."

Louis supposed that was all he could expect from Harry. This was all new to him, and Louis had to make himself consider that Harry had been alone for four years. As far as Louis knew, Harry had never lived with anyone but his family. Of course he wasn't going to fall all over Louis, claiming he was the best thing to happen to him as far as ranch help went, or friendship, or whatever.

And that made another thought rear its head. How did Harry feel about their friendship? He seemed to be comfortable with Louis most of the time, but did he ever feel smothered or stifled by Louis' constant presence? Louis knew he wouldn't tell him if he did. And that compounded Louis' fears. He wanted to know for absolute sure that Harry wasn't hoping he'd leave so he could have his solitary life back again. The fear he was encroaching was real.

Upon thinking about it a bit more, Harry hadn't been as grouchy lately. Not nearly as much. He was starting to smile, and even laugh.

"Do I bug you? Asked Louis. He wanted a concrete answer. He felt he had to have one in order not to feel like an annoyance.

"At times, yeah. But mostly, no." Well, that was something. It wasn't concrete, but it did sound as if Harry wasn't itching to see him go.

It had to be mutual. They both had to want things to continue the way they had been. But Louis could see no way he could get a guarantee that Harry wanted him here one hundred percent. And that ate at him.

Harry was peering at him with impassive eyes. He looked serene and unruffled, yet very alert. Like he wanted to listen to Louis' thoughts. But Louis wasn't going to try to get Harry to say the words he so wanted to hear.

Louis could at last admit it to himself now. He wanted to be wanted.

By Harry.