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2014-02-24
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Two summer mornings

Summary:

Two summer mornings, at two different times of their life

Notes:

I wrote the first part for my writing class so I'm sorry if it's weirdly written because it's kind of a direct translation from french.
Also english is not my mother language so if you spot any big mistake like very important stuff please tell me ?

Thanks for reading my story !!

( also I don't own anything but the story.)

(and they're not brothers)

Work Text:

I

 

They are two, lying in the grass still wet from the night, hands linked between their little bodies, ankles tangled. The youngest rests his head and his chocolate curls in the crook of his friend’s neck.

They’re at this age when six and eight make seven. They grew up together, climbing fences between their own houses, sleeping in each other’s bed. They learnt how to adapt to the other.

This morning, the older woke up first, climbing down from the top bed, softly slipping on the other’s covers and murmuring him to wake up.

When he opens his eyes and sees his friend, the little boy smiles and yawns. They both get out of the bed, silently. They open the door of the bedroom and climb down the old wooden stairs, carefully skipping the noisy steps.

Hands tangled, they giggle thinking of their parents, in  two of the big rooms of the big house, still asleep, having no idea about what their sons are doing.

It feels like an adventure.

They open the kitchen door, the one that leads to the garden. They look at each other. The older smiles and puts a foot on the cold pavement. Then he puts the other one and hold his hand to the other boy who takes it before following him. He shivers at the contact between the soft skin of his tiny foot and the clammy stone. Still holding hands, the boys follow the path, walking away from the house.

They planned all of this adventure the day before and none of them needs to say a word when the path splits in two ways. They take the one from the right, exchanging a happy look and a frisson of excitement.

The path leads them to a small building made of bricks and wood. The older boy pulls the heavy latch under the amazed look of the smaller boy. Joining their strength, they open to heavy wooden door and rush into the stable.

The curly one, the youngest, cringes a little at the strong smell and the older boy laughs and sruffles his hair.

The two boys slip into a big stall. The younger walks to a tiny chestnut Shetland and delicately kisses his nostrils. The animal snorts and cranes to get more caresses. The boy pets him a little bit more and walks out of the stall.

The older boy chooses a slightly bigger pony, a black one with white spots on the croup.

The little boy comes back, holding two bridles. He hands one to his little friend and both of them put them on the horses. They’re not afraid to slip their fingers behind the large teeth of the animal to slip the bit.

Each one holing the reins of their pony, they take them out the stable by a large door.

They stop the horses next to the fence and they use it to climb on the animals.

The older boy nods to his friend who nods back and clacks his tongue. The pony starts walking, trotting on the dirt path. The second pony follows him and the two boys end up riding side by side in the dark morning, exchanging excited looks and smiles.

When the path gets lost in the grass, the dark haired boy looks at his friend and smiles. The boy nods and without a word the two kids give their ponies heels signals. The two animals start galloping, faster and faster.

The ponies cross the hill at full speed, their little riders shouting of happiness.

When the animals start showing signs of fatigue, the boys let them slowing down. They tighten their reins so the ponies don’t trip over them and they jump from their backs.

They leave them quietly grazing. They lay down on the grass, looking at the brightening sky.

There, still in pajamas, pressed against each other’s sides to keep them warm, the two boys watch the sun rise up.

They don’t talk; the older boy is playing with the other boy’s hair, curling them around his fingers.

When the sun is entirely out of the mountains, the small chestnut pony gets closer to them and starts smelling the warm little bodies, tangled in the wet grass. Surprised by the warm breath the boys jump and laugh, petting the pony’s nostrils.

Helping each other, they get up and the older boy whistles his own pony. The two boys climb back on the animals and walk back to the big house. They start with a slow trot but when the curly haired boy make his pony go faster, the other boy gives him a challenging look and they end up racing to the bottom of the hill, laughing and shouting and cheering at their ponies.

In the stables, they take off the bridles and the little boy put them back where they were supposed to be. They pet a little the ponies and thank them for the amazing ride.

Giggling, hands in hands, again, the little boys run to the house, hopping nobody’s up yet. Hopefully, it’s still early and none of their parents are awake.

They climb the stairs as quietly as possible and get back into their room.

The older boy starts climbing the ladder to get into his bed but he stops when the little boy tugs his t-shirt and give him puppy eyes. He comes back down and sighs before ruffling his little friend’s hair. Both of them slip under the covers on the bottom bed. Facing each other, hands linked and forehead against forehead, they look into each other’s eyes. Then, the younger boy starts giggling, still looking straight into the other boy’s eyes. The giggle becomes a proper laughter and the older boy finally joins him.The little boy laughs so hard his eyes start to wet. When he calms down, the older boy lets go one hand and wipes a tear off his friend’s cheek.

They look into each other’s eyes for a little while and without noticing, their eyes close and they fall asleep, pressed against each other.

 

 

 

II

 

Harry yawns and stretches an arm, without opening his eyes.

“Hi…” he hears next to him.

He turns to rest on his side and blinks, blinded by the sudden light.

When he’s used to the brightness of the room, he sees blues eyes looking at him.

‘hii…” he says softly. “How long have you been up ?”

“I don’t know”

“So you just watched me sleep, you creep ?”

Louis sticks his tongue out. “You’re cute.” He moves a curl from Harry’s eye. “I like watching you sleep.”

“creep” Harry whispers. He comes closer to the other man and buries his face on his chest, tightening his arm around Louis’s size. He feels Louis griping his back and breath in his hair.

They stay like that for a moment, breathing each other’s scent, legs tangled under the sheets, bare skin against bare skin.

Suddenly, the silence is broken by a noise croming from Harry’s stomach. Louis bursts into laughter.

“stop making fun of meeee”

“I’m not” says Louis between two chuckles.

Harry moves away a little and pouts. Louis finally stops laughing and pokes Harry’s nose before kissing his forehead.

“Cm’on I’m making breakfast today.”

“You are ?”

“Yup” Louis says, proudly, popping the p. “What’s this grin, Harry styles, do you think I’m not able to cook you breakfast?”

Harry giggles and bends his neck to peck Louis’s lips. He moves to covers and crowls over Louis’s body who slaps gently his naked butt. “Get dressed, dirty boy.”

In all response, Harry wiggles his behind and chuckles. When he’s out of the bed, though, he slips on a pair of blue briefs and hands Louis a black pair.

“stop watching me, creeper, you have a breakfast to make.”

Louis puts the briefs on and heads down stairs. From habits, he jumps over the noisy steps.

 

He’s whipping batter in a bowl when Harry comes in the kitchen. The young man opens the fridge and takes out a plastic bag full of carrots.

“harry, no, I wanted to use then for lunch !”

“I don’t like carrots anyway” says harry, cheekily, opening the kitchen door and stepping outside.

Louis sighs and adds some more flour to the batter. When it has the right consistency, he takes a pan and pour a few drops of olive oil in it. When the pan is hot, he pours batter and lets the pancakes cook before putting them on a plate and pouring more batter until there’s none left and the plate is full. Then, he sets the table, two plates, forks and spoons, two bowls, nutella, sugar, strawberry jam and whipped cream.

When everything is ready, Louis walks out the open door, bare feet against the pavement. He follows the path and enters the stable. He pats the nostrils of the few horses who point their heads out of their stalls. He gets out of the stable and outside, against the fence, there’s Harry, on his knees, feeding carrots to a tiny chestnuts Shetland.

Quietly, Louis walks to him and kneels behind him. He puts his arms around Harry’s naked chest and rests his chin on his shoulder.

He feels Harry smiling and looks at him, petting the old pony’s nostrils. When the Shetland realizes there’s no carrot left, he turns back and trots away. The two young men stand up, Louis still pressed against Harry’s back and watch the chestnuts Shetland from afar, racing a black pony slightly bigger than him.

“Do you remember ?” asks Harry, softly.

“Yeah” smiles Louis.