Chapter 5: Never in the Water

At midnight, Harry's bed was ready, and so was a list.

His bed had been dragged back across the tape line, and the curtains around it were drawn.

He sat on the edge of it in a white shirt, his hair loose for the first time.

He held up one finger.

"First. Never in the water."

"The pool is closed anyway," said James.

"I mean it exactly. If you ever put me in a bath, a lake or a puddle, this ends."

"Understood."

A second finger rose.

"Second. Never in public. Not a corridor, not a lecture hall, not a balcony."

"The bathroom with the door locked was fine for Grant."

"Grant has no pride."

"He had some. I borrowed it."

Harry's mouth twitched.

"Third," he said. "You do not look away from me. Not for one second. That is all."

James set one knee on the bed and looked straight at him.

The long hair had fallen over Harry's shoulders, black and heavy.

The blue-grey eyes under it were cold, and also, James noticed, not quite steady.

"You've been practicing that speech," he said.

"All day."

"It was good."

"Be quiet and get over here."

James climbed onto the bed and pulled the curtain shut behind him.

A thin film of water ran down the cloth from the top, shimmered once, and went still.

"A hush," Harry said against his jaw. "No one hears us through it."

"That's the sea?"

"That's a trick my mother taught me for crying."

James laughed under his breath and kissed him.

Harry kissed precisely and slowly, with total determination, until James bit his lip and the careful rhythm broke.

Then it was hands and teeth and hot breath, and Harry's fingers tearing at James's shirt.

"On your back," Harry muttered. "I said you would be on your back."

"I take charge at night, Harry."

"I know. Grant could not stop talking about it."

"Grant didn't say a word."

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