His legs ached, his body craved rest, but he continued to run, his chest heaving up and down. He could only think about seeing the boys, hearing their voices, hugging them and holding them close. That was all Zayn wanted at this point. He wanted them to let him back into their group, even though he knew they'd be mad.

He gradually came to a stop and took a short sip of water, letting his body catch up to his mind. He was almost there, he could feel it. Maybe just another few kilometers. Maybe another mile. All he knew was that he was close and he wasn't going to stop even though the sun was already setting and he was finding it harder and harder to see around the trees.

He put the bottle of spring water back into his backpack, stretched his legs once more and then started off again, trying not to focus too much on the pain as his legs took him further and further out of the depth of trees.

Back at the camp, the four other boys were sitting together in silence as they ate their dinner. Louis and Harry shyly smiled at each other and leaned closer together as they chewed. Niall sat further away from the group, feeling more and more hungry as he ate. They were running out of food and it was just a matter of time before there was nothing left to share.

"We're going to have to cut our rations again," Liam stated, chewing slowly. The turkey was salty and dried his mouth, making him wish they had more water.

The other boys nodded, knowing that Liam was almost always right. "Maybe we can go hunting again in the morning," Harry stated.

"Yeah," Louis chimed in, "and maybe we could find some freshwater along the way."

"That's not a bad idea," Liam commented. "We'll have to leave early so we get a head start. Like they say, the early bird gets the worm."

The settled in for the night, Louis and Harry partnering up underneath one of the makeshift tents. Liam and Niall slept under the other. This way they'd be warmer when the cold morning approached them.

"I like being this close to you," Harry whispered in Louis ear. His arm resting over Louis' waist as his other played with Louis' feathery hair. "I never thought I'd be able to do this with you."

Louis softly chuckled, "well, I never thought that I'd be stranded on an island with you, so anything can happen."

"I know that we have a lot of stuff to work out, Lou. But I hope that this trip can be the start of something amazing for us," Harry admitted.

"Me, too," Louis said, leaning his head back for Harry to kiss. They lingered like that for a moment, Harry's nose gently brushing Louis' forehead, making Louis' breath catch.

"I just want all of you for myself," Harry said, his voice low, making Louis squirm under Harry's touch. "Is it okay if I do this?" Harry asked as he let his hand move lower, fingers brushing the upper half of Louis' thigh.

Louis' breath hitched and he nodded, "yeah. Yeah, that's okay."

"And is it okay if I do this?" Harry asked, leaning in to kiss and bite on Louis' neck. Louis responded by leaning his head to the left and releasing a small gasp as Harry's fingers moved toward the inner part of his thighs.

"Fuck yes," Louis whispered under his breath. His eyes fluttered shut as Harry's hand moved to cup Louis' growing member.

"Someone's pretty big, huh?" Harry said. "Bet you'd feel good on my tongue, my lips wrapped around you."

Louis' hips bucked forward into Harry's hand, although he didn't mean to do that. He just wanted Harry to stop, he couldn't handle this, not after only a few days. Was Harry crazy?

"Fuck, Harry, stop," Louis whispered, grabbing onto Harry's hand. "We can't do this right now. Not after just a few days and definitely not with Liam and Niall in the other tent."

"They'll be fine, just calm down," Harry said, leaning in to kiss Louis' neck again.

Louis pushed Harry's hands away. "No, Harry. We can't do this right now. I promise you that we'll do it later, but I'm not ready yet, no matter how much my body thinks I am. My heart is still aching and it will take more than a blow job to fix it."

"But you're, you know, hard. Let me fix it. I won't do anything but touch, I promise. No oral. No penetration or whatever. Just...just touching." Harry tried to persuade. Harry kissed the spot behind Louis' ear, humming against the soft skin.

"Harry," Louis hissed, "we can't. Just let it be. I can take care of it myself."

"Don't leave," Harry whispered as Louis began to roll out if the small makeshift tent.

Louis didn't reply, he simply got away from Harry, feeling his goosebumps grow as the chilled air brushed against his hot skin. He shivered, then looked down at his bulge. "Shit," he muttered.

He walked toward the beach, sitting down nearby the water, the ocean's seas meeting his bare feet. He let his body relax, focusing on the feeling of the cold water tickling his toes. He wondered why Harry was making him feel the way he was. How could one person possibly make him feel so free, and excited, and simply amazing in the span of three days?

Maybe it spans from the fact that Louis always had a infatuation  with Harry. From the way Harry played with his hair in class, to the way Harry walked down the halls talking to all his friends along the way, to the way Harry looked at him with a soft smile. In truth, Louis should have known Harry liked him. He should have known that the long stares weren't accidental. He should have known that the gentle tone and laid backness of Harry's language and self presentation was hard to maintain when he was within five feet of him. He should have known that Harry's beating heart could not be contained within the cage of his ribs, because of Louis' presence.

Perhaps Louis shouldn't have left the tent. Maybe it would have been better if he had stayed. But then, if something where to happen, he would hate himself. He would hate the feeling of being dirty and it isn't the feeling of cum on his stomach and legs. It's the feeling of a man's big hand on his dick; The feeling of a man's lips breathing on his neck, kissing the softest parts of his body; The feeling of a man's hot, sweaty body behind him, his own prick up against his ass; The feeling of loving a man and one loving him back.

So maybe it was a better idea that he did leave. Maybe it was a good thing he slept on the beach, the waves splashing against his feet.