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Chapter Text

That night, Louis had needed to go back to his apartment to grab some clothes and a working iron from his apartment, so while he was gone, Harry got out his phone and called Gemma, as per usual for Thursday nights.

Gemma answered on the fourth ring. “Hey, shitface,” she said happily.

“Hey, Gems,” he answered, his own grin growing on his face. “How’ve you been?”

As he expected, it opened the floodgates. Harry loved his sister for many things, but her passion for everything was definitely one of his favorites. He used to be so much like her, and even though he wasn’t anymore, and hadn’t been for a long time, she never treated him differently, still loved him just the same, and was fiercely protective and active in advising him and bouncing ideas back and forth with him. And when Harry asked her a question, he always got the God’s honest truth via a usually very long-winded response, like now.

Oh, you know,” she said. Harry could picture the dismissive wave she’d have given. “Ashton’s being annoying, he’s wearing those fucking fedoras; they’re so stupid. And then he got upset with me when I said so! Him and the boys had a little jam sesh with some guy named Matt; he keeps talking about him like I’m supposed to know who he is. I mean, I’m not saying I don’t care, ‘cause, you know, happy boy, happy home, and all, but…I’ve got no idea why this Matt guy’s a big deal. Instead of explaining it, though, Ash’s always just looking at me like I’ve lost half my IQ, so. I refuse to look him up, just to spite him. Student teaching is great, I’m working with all these little freshmen who think they can spit game. Ashton came and picked me up the other day for lunch, and one of the students saw, so when I came back, he was all, ’Was that your boyfriend, Miss Styles?’ And I’m pretty sure I broke his heart when I told him yes and that he’s in a band. This week was supposed to be just all observation, but a few kids have special needs and the special ed. teacher’s apparently out of commission right now, so I got stuck doing it, but, to my surprise, I love it. Next week, I’ll be doing lesson plans for all of the class, but Mrs. Hinkle, the lady I’m student teaching for, said I could make additional ones for the special ed. kids. You know, she still has to look over them, but if they’re good enough, I might get to go a little further into exploring that realm, which I wouldn’t really mind. So long as I’m doing something with science teaching, I don’t really care who I’m teaching.”

Gemma babbled on for nearly twenty minutes, and Harry put his finger to his lips when he opened the door for Louis upon his return. Gemma, he mouthed to Louis, who smiled and walked into the apartment.

Harry went back to sprawl out on the couch, and after a while, Louis joined him, bringing his laptop and sitting on Harry’s legs while he farted around online and Harry actively participated in the conversation. He startled Louis with a piercing cackle, the one that usually only Gemma could pull from him, and he slapped a hand over his mouth immediately while Gemma laughed and kept telling a story about one of her students.

“I miss you,” Harry eventually said, blushing to himself when he saw Louis grin at his computer. “Why do you have to be so far away?”

“Harry, I’m only three hours from you, idiot,” Gemma said, but her tone was a little sad, too, until she asked Harry a random question, and they bounced from subject to subject again.

When they’d talked another hour, and Louis was idly rubbing up and down Harry’s shin, Harry waited until Gemma stopped talking to ask, “Hey, uhm. Do you – have you talked to Mom and Robin, lately?”

Gemma sighed, and Harry pictured her rolling her eyes. “Well, I call them every Tuesday, Harry. Why?”

Harry rubbed his nose uncomfortably when he said, “I was wondering if they had, like, a day off some time within the next week or two…or three.”

“Well, call them and ask,” Gemma urged, sounding a little excited. “You going down to visit?”

“Uh, I was thinking about it,” Harry said uncomfortably. Louis looked up from his computer, eyebrows raised, but he was smiling widely, even as Gemma tried not to let her excitement bleed through her voice. (She failed.)

After a few more minutes, Harry begged off the phone, Louis getting antsy on his lap.

As soon as Harry hung up and set the phone down, Louis was pushing the laptop onto the coffee table and sprawling out on top of him, peppering his face in kisses.

“You want to go tell your family within a few weeks?” Louis asked, excitedly. “I’m so proud of you, Harry! You’re going to do great.”

“You’re still coming with me, right?” Harry asked, heart squeezing in fear that Louis would say no, for a second.

Louis only nodded, though, and Harry beamed.

“When did you want to go?” He asked. “Uhm, I was just – I don’t want to stay the night, or anything. I don’t want an awkward time, if it goes badly; I just want to go visit for a few hours, drop the bomb, try to keep visiting if it goes decently-to-well, and leave with getting home before dark as an excuse. Especially since it’s so much information at once, you know –”

“Harry, I mean it, babe,” Louis interrupted. “If you don’t want to tell them the rest, like, I understand. It’s not like I have some set timeline, or anything, like, as long as they know the basics before I’m having contractions in a hospital gown, I don’t care when you tell them I’m your boyfriend or having your kid.”

“No, I’m sure,” Harry said, stomach fluttering a little, though he was truly sure. “I only want to confess once; anything else just puts unneeded stress, you know?” Louis nodded. “Uhm…can you – do you want to maybe do it this Sunday, if my parents are free?”

“Sure,” Louis said encouragingly, game for anything. “Do you think they will be? I mean, it’s pretty short notice, and all…”

Harry took a deep breath and picked up his phone. “I’ll call and ask,” he said, and thumbed through the M’s in his phone until he landed on Mom. He pressed the phone picture next to her name, and Louis grabbed Harry’s free hand when Harry leaned back, closing his eyes.

Harry’s mom answered almost immediately. “Harry? Is something wrong? Is everything okay? Are you hurt? Where are you, baby?”

Louis, who was leaning on Harry’s chest and close enough to hear, raised his eyebrows at Harry.

“Mom, I’m fine, I’m – I’m laying on my couch, in my apartment, okay? I’m fine; calm down,” Harry said, interrupting her frantic questions with a reluctantly-fond laugh. She always was a worrier.

She took a deep breath, shaky and slow. “Jesus, Harry, you can’t do that,” she complained.

Harry snorted. “Mom, all I did was call you,” he said, and Louis giggled quietly into his shirt.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she grumbled fondly. “It’s not my fault you never call; I’d forgotten what your face looks like until I saw the picture of you on my caller ID!”

“Mom, I know for a fact that my picture in your phone is of me as a four-year-old, holding a tarantula,” he said drily, and Louis scrunched his face up in horror at the thought of holding a spider. But Harry just rolled his eyes at his expression.

“Ah, the times when you were still adorable,” she said, and Harry swallowed, throat a little tight. He reminded himself that she hadn’t meant it meanly, was only trying to tease him, but it had stung a little, oversensitive as ever about his mom’s disapproval and lack of understanding about his makeup and tattoos and piercings, and he was reeling through it. Harry’s mom seemed to pick up on it quickly, because she gasped and said, “Oh, Harry, baby, I didn’t mean –”

“No, no, Mom, I know,” Harry said, and he smiled a little when Louis kissed his chest over his shirt. “I know, sorry.”

Anne was quiet for a few minutes until she asked, “Well, hon, not that I’m complaining, but what has you calling little old me on a Thursday night, hmm? Isn’t that your night for Gemma?”

“You’re prettier,” Harry said casually, making his mom laugh loudly into the phone. “Don’t worry, I already talked to her,” he added. “I was just, uhm. Actually, I was wondering, if you, you know, were doing anything Sunday.”

Anne was quiet for a moment. “This Sunday?” She asked, sounding strange.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Well. We’ve got church until eleven, but after that, we were just gonna stay home and do some housework, or something…” she said a little cautiously. “Why, Harry? Is everything okay?”

“For God’s – Mom, will you please stop thinking that I’m anything less than okay? I just, uhm, have some news, and wanted to come visit, is all. See you and Robin, and all that…Mom?”

There was a clattering and a soft swear word, and Anne scrambled to pick up the phone. “Harry? Are you still there?” She asked. “I just dropped my phone; did you say you wanted to come visit us?”

Harry noticed Louis frowning at him, but when he frowned back, eyebrows raised in question, Louis quickly shook his head and nodded towards the phone, indicating he should get back to the conversation. “Uh, yeah, if that’s okay,” he said. He was just about to say he understood if it was too short of notice, but his mom was already squealing excitedly.

“Oh, Harry, I’d love for you to come home! Robin’s going to be so excited; I can’t wait to tell when he gets home!”

Harry forced a laugh, feeling a little guilty that he hadn’t been home but for Thanksgivings and Christmases since he moved out a few years ago, despite only being a few hours away. “I, uh, actually – I’m bringing someone with me, if that’s okay. I have someone important I want you to meet.”

Anne was quiet for a moment before she started shrieking, and Harry had to laugh.

“Mom,” he said, “it’s probably not what you’re thinking,” he lied, just to avoid an awkward meeting when Louis got out of the car. “But I’m not answering any questions, okay? I’ll see you in a few days, yeah?”

“Wait, Harry, at least tell me if I need to tidy up the guest room,” she said, devious sneakery in her voice. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Mom, you do know two people can share a bed without it meaning something dirty, right?” He asked, smirking. “I can hear your master-minding from here.”

“Well?” She asked, pouting a little, now, and Harry snorted.

“No, Mom, we're actually not gonna stay the night; sorry. I work Saturdays, and we both have to get back to work on Monday."

"Oh, okay," Anne answered, like she really didn't mind.

"Listen, I’ve got to go, but I’ll be down there Sunday, when you’re out of church. Leave the door unlocked in case we get there early?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Of course, darling,” she said, sounding almost emotional.

“I love you,” Harry told her, because he really didn’t do it enough.

“I love you, so much, Harry,” she said. “See you soon.”

“See you soon, Mom. Bye.”

Harry tapped the line off and blew out a big gust of air. “This is going to be a disaster,” he said, staring at the ceiling.

Louis kissed his throat. “You can always bow out for now, babe,” he reminded Harry gently. “We’ve got months.”

Harry shook his head, though, sitting up a little to look at Louis better. “No, I meant, like, just going to see her in general,” he admitted.

Louis frowned. “Why do you say that?” He asked, and Harry took a few minutes to think.

“I love my mom,” he said sincerely. “She’s in that little group of people I really care about. She – doesn’t approve, or understand, really, the makeup and body modification stuff, never has…but she has always done what she thought was best for me at the time. She got me away from my dad, she put me in therapy – which I needed, even if I, personally, would never put my child on medication until at least their teen years, unless the condition was really bad and diet or discipline or being active or outside couldn’t change it – and when I got tangled up in all that…shit, basically, she tried so hard to reach me; she just didn’t know how. Especially as she was a single mom, you know, working her ass off to afford Gemma’s honors school, lawyer fees from the split, all that stuff. It was really hard on her, and all my crap made it a little worse. She’s always tried, though, and that makes her one of the people I love most in the world.

“It’s just…difficult. At this point, the tattoos are, obviously, forever. The piercings can come and go, but I like them and I like standing out. And as far as makeup goes, it’s hard for me to feel confident without it; it’s almost like a hybrid of makeup to make me attractive and armor, or something. I know it’s all mental, one hundred percent, but going without makeup…I feel naked, and not in a good way. That’s probably weird –”

“That’s not weird,” Louis interrupted, rubbing at the tattoos peeking above the collar of Harry’s shirt. “It’s not,” he added when Harry looked away. “It’s just something you need for added confidence. Loads of people wear makeup every day; so what if you’re a guy, right? Isn’t that how you feel about everyone else when they look at you? Like, ‘fuck you; I’ll do what I want and you can deal with it’?”

Harry shrugged, and Louis lifted a finger to sweep a line from Harry’s temple down to his chin, smiling calmly. “That’s what I think when people look at us funny. When we’re out, and stuff. ‘Fuck you, I’ll hold his hand because I want to, and you can look away or you can deal with it.’”

Harry smiled, one of those deep, heavily-sincere smiles. “I always wondered,” he admitted. “Why you aren’t, like, uncomfortable with people seeing us together.”

“Does it bother you?” Louis asked curiously.

“No,” Harry said quickly, not wanting Louis to even entertain that thought. “Not at all; I mean, Zayn’s not into all the mods and stuff, other than tattoos, but his are all covered most of the time.”

Louis nodded. “So, your mom…?” He prompted gently.

“Is great,” Harry filled in, making Louis smile. “We got into a lot of arguments when I was a teen, especially once I started wearing makeup. We got into a really big one a few days before I moved out, and I kind of gave her an ultimatum, sort of like, ‘get over it, or you won’t see me anymore’, and texted once a week until she begged me to come home for Christmas. I almost didn’t, but I hadn’t been able to see Gemma, either, and Robin called me himself and begged me, like, Mom still doesn’t even know he did it.”

“So, was Robin irritated with it?” Louis asked, shifting on top of Harry. “Wait – hold on, I’m really sorry, but I’m seriously about to piss myself.” Louis got up and started hurrying towards the bathroom door, and Harry laughed behind him. “Pause conversation!” Louis called while Harry heard the clinks and rustling of belts and flies being messed with. “I’ll be done in a sec!”

Harry got up and grabbed a beer while Louis peed, deciding he wouldn’t buy anymore once he finished this twelve-pack off. He only had three more, anyway. Louis was sitting on the couch when Harry got back, so Harry sighed comfortably as he plopped back down next to him, and Louis cuddled up, laying next to him with no room between them, since the couch was so small.

“So, Robin,” Louis prompted bossily, making Harry smile a little.

“Robin’s amazing,” Harry said. “If I had to pick a step-dad, I couldn’t have imagined one so good. He’s involved, but not invasive, and he loves me and Gemma and tries to guide us when he feels like he needs to step in, but we’re both lucky he didn’t try that until much, much later, or I’d’ve hated him on the spot. But, you know, he’s the dad he really, really didn’t need to be to me and Gems, and he treats my mom like she’s made of fucking precious treasure. Like, seriously, he’s such an incredible guy. I respect the hell out of him.”

Louis smiled at him. “I’m excited to meet him,” he said, nodding.

“I know, me, too,” Harry said, grinning. “I’m not worried about him not, like, taking it well. He’ll be fine, like I already know he doesn’t mind, as long as I’m safe and happy and not like I was when he first met me. That’s what he cares about. Wait, do you pay any attention to football?”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Harry, it’s April,” he said. “Football’s been over for months.”

“I know, but do you watch it?”

Louis hummed. “I don’t watch too often, but, you know. I keep up with it, and I watch it if nothing else is on.”

“What’s your favorite team?” Harry asked.

“I don’t really have one,” Louis said. “I mean, everyone in Delaware was either an Eagles, Steelers, or Cowboys fan; I’m not too fond of any.”

“Well, be a Packers fan on Sunday, and Robin might adopt you, himself,” Harry joked, and Louis grinned, squirming up to kiss Harry.

He bit down on Harry’s lip a little harder than he usually did, and it sent an unexpected jolt of arousal through Harry’s body. Before he could even moan, though, Louis was kissing down his neck.

Louis grabbed Harry’s jaw with a hand and tilted Harry’s face up, gaining more access to Harry’s neck. “Do you like hickeys?” He asked against Harry’s neck.

“None that’ll last ‘til Sunday,” Harry said, after he moaned, and kept his head tilted back so Louis could give them.

“I don’t think I’d want Robin to adopt me,” Louis murmured as he bit down onto Harry’s neck and sucked, licking over the dark red mark when he pulled away. “Sure would be immoral to do the things I want you to do to me if we were brothers.”

Harry groaned again, and wrapped his arms tighter around Louis’ tiny waist, hands sliding to grab hold of Louis’ ass. Louis automatically grinded forward, rutting their hips together while their cocks started to harden up a little bit.

“What do you want tonight?” Harry asked. “Wanna play, or fuck?”

“Hmmm,” Louis hummed, and licked up Harry’s neck before he licked around the stud in Harry’s earlobe. “Don’t care,” he said, “just want you to take care of me.”

Harry sat up suddenly, pushing Louis back. Louis made a confused sound, but Harry pulled Louis’ legs to wrap around his waist, wrapping his own arms around Louis’, and hefted him up, hurrying to the bedroom. He deposited Louis down on the bed, smiling when Louis immediately started shedding clothes, and after ridding himself of his own, Harry crawled up the bed, grabbing Louis’ wrists and pushing them roughly up over his head, pressing them tightly against the mattress.

Harry kissed Louis roughly, and Louis moaned and pushed his hips up against Harry’s, looking for friction. “That’s right, babe, get yourself off,” Harry said, and Louis rolled his hips up again. “How should I take care of you, hmm?” Louis didn’t answer, but Harry wasn’t expecting him to. “Should I play with your nipples? Press on your bladder ‘til you piss yourself, and then suck you off and kiss you, make you taste your own piss? Hmm?” Louis whined, turning his face away as he kept rolling his hips.

“Eyes on me,” Harry said immediately, squeezing Louis’ hands a little. “Want to make sure the last thing you see before you come is me. I’m gonna condition you, like that, see. So every time you see my face, you’ll know I’ll make you come. And every time you come, you’ll automatically think of me.” Louis’ eyes widened and flashed, and Harry smirked. “Like that thought, baby?”

Louis gasped when Harry grinded his hips against Louis’ once, whining when Harry didn’t do it again.

“Didn’t answer me, earlier,” Harry mused. “What should I do for my baby? Tie your hands up with one of my scarves, ‘til I can get a set of cuffs? Turn you over and eat you out, make you come from just that. Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Has anyone ever eaten you out, baby?” Louis shook his head as he whined this time, and Harry hummed, though his heart was racing. “I could spank you,” he mused, his free hand randomly stroking Louis’ tummy. “Haven’t been bad for me, though, have you? No. You’re a good boy, aren’t you, baby?” He was mildly surprised when Louis’ eyelashes fluttered at that, so he took a risk and said, “You’re good for Daddy.”

Louis froze for a second, and Harry was just about to apologize when Louis moaned, long and loud, and started trying to pull his wrists away from Louis even as he started rutting against Harry’s thigh rapidly.

“What’s your color, baby?” Harry asked, his voice firm and clear like it so rarely was.

“Green,” Louis said quietly, and then, even softer, “Daddy.”

Harry nearly had a stroke. Hearing Louis call him ‘Daddy’ was probably the hottest sound Harry had ever heard in his entire life. But he wanted to deserve being called ‘Daddy’, so he kept his focus and smiled down at Louis, who was blushing furiously and looking up at Harry uncertainly. “Then stay still,” he said, and Louis automatically stopped writhing.

Louis tilted his head back so he could get a good view of Harry looming over him, and Harry leaned down to kiss him roughly, possessively claiming this man as his own. It didn’t matter, in that moment, that Louis was older than him, or that Louis was pregnant, or that Louis was so different than Harry; Louis was his, and that was all that mattered.

“Take your pick, baby,” Harry said roughly. “Give me two choices, and I’ll pick what I want to do with your body tonight.”

Louis shivered, but kept rutting against Harry, and not answering. Scowling at not being listened to, Harry shifted and pressed his big hand over one of Louis’ hips, gripping hard and punishing. “Listen to Daddy,” he said, scolding, “and give me two ideas, else you’re going to suck me off and you won’t come at all tonight. You want to be a good boy for Daddy, right?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Louis said, tilting his head back. He didn’t try to fight Harry’s hands, this time, but he bit his lip for a second while his eyes flew around the room wildly. “Thinking,” he said when Harry started to show his irritation again. “I – that, your mouth,” he mumbled, blushing even more.

“Rimming?” Harry asked with a smirk. “Want Daddy to eat you out, baby?”

Louis gulped, breathing heavily, and continued, “Or – or you could…uh, the –” He blushed even worse and ducked his head as he whispered something, so Harry let go of Louis’ hands with a frustrated growl and gripped Louis’ jaw in his hand, jerking his head up.

“I told you to look at me, baby,” he said gently, contradicting his harsh grip. “Daddy didn’t even hear what you said, see what happens when you don’t listen, sweet baby?”

“Sorry,” Louis whispered, frowning.

“That’s okay, baby; you’re still learning. Be good and try to listen from now on, okay?” Harry asked, and smiled graciously when Louis nodded. “Now, what else did you want?”

Louis looked away again, though he quickly looked back up, and he said, “The – pee…thing,” and immediately closed his eyes. “Daddy,” he whined, hip tensing under Harry’s hand.

“Shhh, Daddy’s thinking,” Harry said absently, and let his harsh grip of Louis’ jawline go, instead stroking down his throat gently. “Wanna be dirty tonight, either way, hmmm?” He asked, smiling down at Louis, who nodded shyly. “Such a good, naughty boy. A good, filthy boy. I love it. Do you have to pee right now? You just went a little while ago,” he reminded Louis, a little doubtful, because it didn’t seem like Louis’d been drinking all that much water.

Louis frowned, as if he’d just realized the same thing, and shook his head. He looked genuinely disappointed, so Harry kissed him, hard and dirty again, and pulled away to tell him, “Drink lots tomorrow, and we can try it out after I finish the show, okay, baby?”

Louis groaned – or moaned; at this point, Harry wasn’t really sure – and nodded, and Harry stroked his cock when he wasn’t looking to anticipate it.

“Oh!” Louis said, too breathy to be a shout. “Oh, Daddy…”

He whined when Harry let go, but Harry just tapped his lip with a finger, telling him to hush, and told him to roll over. “Hands and knees, babe,” he said, backing up off of Louis’ body and watching his twinky body move as he obeyed. “Good boy,” Harry said sweetly, running his hands down Louis’ ticklish sides. “You’re so pretty like this, baby,” he said, and draped himself over Louis’ body. “Did you shower when you went home?” He checked; he may be dying to let Louis experience pleasure like never before, but he wasn’t about to eat him out unless it tasted like he could be hiding a bar of soap up his ass.

Luckily, Louis nodded emphatically, and Harry rewarded him with one quick stroke down his cock. Louis shook, and Harry kissed his back.

Harry started pressing kisses down the knobs of Louis’ spine, hands following his mouth easily and seamlessly. “What’s your color?” He asked, and when Louis replied, ‘Green’, he licked the small of Louis’ back, mouthing against his skin while he slid his hands up and down the backs of Louis’ sides.

“Nobody’s done this at all?” He rechecked, and Louis shook his head. “’Mkay,” Harry hummed, “it’s a little weird at first, so give it a chance and relax into it, okay? Be a good boy: ‘yellow’ or ‘red’ as soon as you need to.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Louis whispered, hanging his head. Harry kissed each cheek before he shifted around.

Harry laid down on his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing the cheeks of Louis’ ass with each hand. “Little wider, baby,” he urged, and Louis whined, but spread his legs a little more, earning another kiss, this time to the back of a thigh. Harry could see Louis’ hard cock just hanging there, getting no attention and barely a millimeter away from touching the blanket on the bed.

Harry adjusted his grip, using his thumbs to spread Louis’ cheeks away, baring the line between them, and stared at his little hole. “You groom,” Harry said idly, and then realized it was probably an awkward thing to say. But it was true; there was no hair, the skin around Louis’ hole was hardly darkened at all, rather than most assholes Harry’d seen. It looked delicious.

“Is that…weird?” Louis asked, embarrassed and a little timid, and instead of answering, Harry leaned in and licked wetly, making sure his tongue was soaked in spit first.

Louis cried out, shocked and sounding like he was a little weirded-out, so Harry moved his hands to distract Louis and leaned in again, this time flicking his tongue several times over Louis’ hole.

“I – oh,” Louis choked, his toes curling up against Harry’s knees.

Harry licked, spreading his saliva onto Louis’ skin until it was glimmering in the light, and then pulled away, smirking when Louis choked off an upset sound. “Shhh, shhh,” he told Louis, other fingers scrunching gently on Louis’ skin. “Daddy’ll take care of you,” he assured him, and Louis made himself quiet down and nod.

He let out a loud grunt when Harry blew cold air against his hole, and Harry cut the air off and immediately fit his mouth against Louis’ crack and licked wildly, giving Louis a temperature shock that made his arms give out, pushing his ass into the air even more as he groaned brokenly.

“Like this, baby?” Harry asked him, licking his lips and kissing the crease between his ass cheek and thigh, licking it and then moving onto the other side. Harry flickered back and forth between licking him out and leaving wet kisses all over Louis’ skin, liking the fact that Louis never knew where Harry would go next, where he’d feel Harry’s mouth next, because he couldn’t see him.

Harry closed his eyes and pressed his face closer, humming gently to make Louis shake. “What’s that color, baby?” He asked, kissing Louis’ cheeks for a minute to let him think.

“Green, Daddy, plea – oh,” he groaned again.

Harry pressed his face back in close against Louis’ crack, mouth surrounding his hole and tongue flickering over it quickly, and he heard Louis whimper, though he got a little quieter and the tiniest bit calmer.

So, Harry changed it up, taking long, slow licks with lots of pressure, and Louis squirmed, hips wiggling around Harry’s mouth. Encouraged by the difference, Harry continued licking slow and broad until Louis’ breaths started hitching a little too much for his comfort. “Settle down, baby,” he cooed. He shifted and Louis’ foot rubbed up against Harry’s cock, making him moan and rest his head on Louis’ cheek for just a moment until Louis started grinding his hips back towards Harry’s face.

“That’s a good boy, ride Daddy’s tongue when it gets in you, okay?” Harry murmured, spreading Louis’ cheeks apart once more. He licked again at Louis’ hole, grazing his teeth against the skin. Louis didn’t particularly react to the teeth, so Harry pressed his lips against Louis’ hole and sucked, pressing his tongue against it just barely afterwards. Louis gasped, tensing up until he pushed himself back up onto his hands, back arching until a great, loud, ‘Fuck!’ exploded from his mouth.

Harry pressed the tip of his tongue further into Louis’ hole, pressing hard with his tongue muscles and his mouth opened wide as possible. He thrust his tongue in and out a few times until Louis remembered what Harry had told him to do.

Whining, Louis started rocking his hips, and when Harry pushed in on a particularly hard thrust when Louis rolled back, Harry’s tongue slipped in a little further than it had been going. A sob tore itself from Louis’ mouth, and Harry kept thrusting it, wiggling. When he moaned, his tongue deep in Louis’ ass and fucking him well, Louis shouted and came, collapsing onto the bed, pulling Harry’s tongue from him, and shook on the comforter.

Ignoring the fact that Louis had just come on his gray and black comforter – that would need a wash, or six – Harry hummed and rubbed his hands over Louis’ back until he relaxed again.

Harry wrapped a fist around the base of his cock, wanting to see if he could get Louis to suck his dick or not, not particularly wanting to stroke himself off into the toilet. Still, he needed to wash his mouth – he was not unrealistic about bacteria; he’d been taught well…eventually – so he kissed Louis’ shoulder, collarbones, and made a line of kisses to the other shoulder.

“What’s your color, baby?” He asked, and Louis shuddered.

“I – green, Daddy,” he said, and Harry beamed down at him, making Louis flush just a shade or two darker.

Harry rubbed Louis’ arm and waited until Louis’ breathing was back to normal and he simply seemed a little sleepy to ask, “Hey, think you can come to the bathroom with me? Get you a little cleaned up before bed?”

Louis nodded and sat up, squirming as he felt how wet his butt was, and he and Harry stood together and hugged for a moment, Louis shuddering a few more times in Harry’s hold. “Thank you,” he said, and kissed Harry’s ink-covered chest gratefully.

Harry kissed Louis’ hair before stepping back with a smile, and as he grabbed Louis’ hand and led him to the bathroom, he said, “You’re welcome, babe. Did you like it?”

“So much,” Louis said a little shyly once they entered the bathroom.

Harry grinned and wet down a rag and tossed it to Louis, and went ahead and washed his face. As he preemptively poured a capful of mouthwash carefully, he palmed his dick, now throbbing as he catalogued the way Louis was pliant and flushed, looking thoroughly wrecked and fucked all because of Harry.

“You’re still hard,” Louis noted apologetically; how he hadn’t felt Harry’s cock against his hip when they’d hugged just a minute ago, Harry would never know. “Want me to suck you off?” He offered quietly, cheeks pink with how much he wanted it.

Harry grinned and nodded. “Think you can get me off before I’m done brushing my teeth?” He asked cheekily, and Louis only blushed more, but he sank to his knees gracefully as Harry wet the toothbrush.

He ended up squeezing way too much toothpaste onto the brush, because Louis didn’t even tease, but licked up the underside of his cock and wrapped his lips around Harry’s cockhead quickly.

Harry tried to brush his teeth as per usual, but the pretty mouth, belonging to the beautiful boy with gorgeous eyes and fucked-up, sex-roughed hair was proving to be very distracting.

Harry spit out the foam gathering in his mouth and moaned when Louis pressed his head back against the counter and pulled Harry in by the backs of his thighs, asking him to fuck his throat. Harry took a deep breath and started slowly thrusting in, knee twitching when Louis made a frustrated noise around Harry’s cock and yanked harder on Harry’s thighs.

Louis opened his mouth and relaxed his throat, keeping his head pinned against the cabinets, so Harry clenched one hand on the edge of the sink and the other had a death grip on his toothbrush, cleaning his teeth with a fury dentists could only pray for as he thrust hard into Louis’ throat.

Harry paused his brushing to take a breather while he fucked in hard and fast, looking down to see Louis staring up at him, tears in his eyes and looking for a reaction.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good,” he said after he spit out more foam. “Almost there, baby, almost done.”

Harry had almost forgotten about the challenge to make him come before finishing with cleaning his teeth, but Louis seemed to remember, because all of a sudden, he started sucking actively rather than letting Harry take over and set the pace. He hollowed his cheeks out and moaned, taking a deep breath and very slowly pushing himself to keep going down.

“Shit,” Harry breathed, and pushed Louis against the counter again so he could come into Louis’ mouth, leg jumping and abs clenching and unclenching as he quietly grunted out his orgasm.

Louis swallowed, but, to Harry’s astonishment, started cleaning Harry’s cock off with his mouth, sweetly giving his growing-sensitive shaft little kitten licks. While he had his fun, Harry finished his teeth brushing, washing his mouth out with water before he hauled Louis up, pushing him up onto the counter.

Louis grinned tiredly and wrapped his limp arms around Harry’s neck when Harry crowded in on his space, and the two kissed, gently running their fingers over areas like the back of Harry’s neck and the spot where Harry knew the ribcage would lie against on Louis’ back, making each other smile and shiver.

“Fuck, but you love that, don’t you?” Harry said a little roughly. “Love having a cock down your throat, don’t you, babe?”

Louis didn’t even respond, choosing instead to give Harry an exhausted smile, a weak peck on the lips, and reached for his own toothbrush while Harry poured the mouthwash back, swishing and gargling.

Louis spit out his own tooth paste just after Harry spit out his mouthwash, and Louis didn’t bother with mouthwash, as usual, instead choosing to let Harry take care of him.

Harry put Louis into bed, tucking him in and curling around him. He kissed Louis a few more times, their minty fresh breath and bodies close together to make each other happy, and curled around him easily, falling asleep within the hour.

---

Friday morning, Harry woke up alone and got into the shower, rinsing his hair and scrubbing his body clean. He dressed casually for work, some looser jeans and a t-shirt, now that it was getting hotter outside, and Harry pushes his hair back away from his face and tied a scarf over it, not really caring what his hair looked like, so long as he could see.

It didn’t look bad, but so Harry leaned forward onto his bathroom cabinet and applied makeup, only half-interested and feeling a little too sleepy.

Once he got to work, though, Zayn looked chipper as hell, and Harry was instantly suspicious. “What’s going on?” He asked, pausing his walk towards his room to open up for the day.

Zayn’s grin only widened. “We’re having a boys’ night tonight after your gig, is what’s going on,” he said, looking positively evil. “Ni texted me, so I texted Liam, and Liam said he’d get Louis into it at lunch, and it’s my job to get you into it now.”

Harry stared at him for a minute. He regretted, right then, having any friend ever in his entire life time. Ever. “No,” he said flatly, and Zayn’s smiley act dropped and he adopted a much more fierce-looking expression.

“Listen, you little shit,” he said clearly, pointing at Harry with what he must have thought was a Very Intimidating Gesture. “You’re coming out with us tonight if I have to drag you by the short and curlies and fit you into the trunk of a vehicle. I’m not taking no for an answer. This dude’s having your kid, so you’re going to introduce us instead of being an asshole. You can wait a few hours to have sex, I think, can’t you?”

Harry sighed, but didn’t say anything, and walked off to his room, slamming the door shut and grabbing his notebook. He started crossing out songs, grumbling mutinously and pulling out his phone to text Niall and Josh.

If he couldn’t have sex with Louis immediately after the gig, he’d have to un-sexify their set list for the night.

---

Louis had texted Harry a picture of his face, screwed up in a guilty frown, a message underneath saying, Li said theres a mandated guys night tonight after your show, did you know about this??

Harry had grumbled but texted back that he hadn’t known, and told Louis not to fill himself up with water as planned, because Harry wouldn’t be able to take care of him with other people around, distracting him. Louis had sent an angry/upset emoji, and Harry had sent a thumbs-down one back, followed by the skull-ish one. Tomorrow, maybe, he texted Louis as an afterthought.

Now, though, Harry entered the bar and glowered when he saw Zayn already standing with Louis and Liam. He didn’t have to work before the show, since Nick was still trying to figure out the scheduling with a new employee, so Harry stomped over to the trio, glaring mostly at Zayn.

“Oh, thank god, you changed,” Zayn said, rolling his eyes, and reached out to thumb at Harry’s makeup. Harry slapped his hand away while Louis murmured a hello, hugging him gently. “You looked like dog shit when you came in this morning.”

Louis frowned and turned more towards Harry. “You okay?” He asked, eyebrows drawn in concern.

Harry smiled down at him a little, rubbing a hand over Louis’ lower back. “I’m fine,” he said, nodding. “I was just a little tired this morning, is all.”

“You know,” Liam said, “I don’t remember seeing that one.” He pointed to underneath his own eye socket, implying Harry’s anti-eyebrow. “Or those second lip ones, come to think of it,” he added, frowning a little.

“He wanted to change them out,” Louis told Liam, and then turned back to stand on his tiptoes to whisper in Harry’s ear, “You look incredible; as excited as I am to hang out with your friends, I’m also really bummed we can’t – do that, uhm, thing tonight.”

Harry’s nostrils flared and he swallowed as he tried to tamper down the sudden desire, and he simply nodded fervently when Louis pulled back to watch his reaction. “I changed the set list up a bit for tonight,” he said. “Songs are a little less…sexy.”

“Thanks,” Louis said, amused, and then was immediately pushed into Harry by a hard thump on his back by Niall, whose gauges were swinging and bar through his bridge piercing was glittering, the balls decorated with little reflective pieces so it looked almost like a mini disco ball on either side of his nose.

“Louis, mate! Good to see you again. Ain’t seen ya since I knew Harry here knocked you up!”

Harry had already pulled Louis in protectively, but at that, both Harry and Zayn reached out and slapped Niall on the back of his head.

“Ni, I know I texted you about behaving tonight,” Zayn complained, but Niall just shrugged, not really chastised.

“My behavior?” He said, gesturing towards Harry and Louis. “These two’re the ones who fucked! I’m not about to act up more’n that.”

“He’s just really uncensored,” Harry murmured straight into Louis’ ear. “Seriously, says shit he never even means; don’t ever let him hurt your feelings. Chances are, it was just a passing thought in his very, very strange mind. He’s really great, once he gets over his excitement to speak to you.”

“He’s excited to speak to me?” Louis asked, scrunching his face up in confusion while Zayn continued scolding Niall and Liam watched on, confused as ever.

“He’s like a little puppy,” Harry explained. “He’s literally excited to be around people, even if nobody even looks at him once. He loves when new people talk to him; he’ll get over it. I’m not saying he’ll ever act like a normal human being, but he gets a lot better once he’s used to you. Sorry, in advance.”

Harry stopped talking when Niall suddenly plastered himself to Louis’ back, jostling Louis again. “Aw, Louis, man, I didn’t mean to offend ya, if I did! I’s just jokin’, anyway. Harry’s just never been one for PDA.”

That wasn’t really true; Harry had just never been into feeling up girls, and before, he couldn’t feel up guys because he wasn’t out. Louis must have been thinking along the same lines, because he raised an eyebrow up at Harry.

“Ni, get off him,” Harry said, slapping Niall’s head again. “Jesus, you’re so embarrassing. Act right, or I’m calling this guys’ night off completely.”

Niall abruptly gave Louis some space, while Liam watched with shifting eyes and Zayn rolled his.

“Aw, you’re no fun,” Niall complained. “He’s not made of glass, just ‘cause he’s pregnant.”

“He’s also right here, Ni, so you don’t have to talk about him like he’s not,” Harry said, wrapping an arm around Louis’ waist. “Now. Niall, this is Louis, my boyfriend. Louis, this is Niall, my idiotic, sometimes-best friend. You’ve already met Zayn, of course, and Niall, this is Liam, Louis’ best friend. Liam, this is Niall, and I apologize if he offends you too many times tonight.”

Niall huffed, but grinned when Louis held out a hand to shake, and did the same with Liam, though he pulled Liam in for a bro-hug after shaking his hand, patting him hard on the back and asking if he followed football.

“Seriously, man,” Niall said, turning around once Liam had admitted he wasn’t a big football fan, “don’t listen to anything I say if it pisses you off. It’s probably not true, anyway.”

Louis laughed a little, and Harry relaxed, but then he looked at his watch and saw it was nearly time to start, and they hadn’t even started setting up. “Shit, Nialler, we gotta go, bro,” he said, extracting himself from where he was holding Louis. “Bye, babe,” he added, leaning back in towards him, “kiss for luck?” He asked.

While Niall swore and ran off towards the back, where the van was, Louis raised his brow. “Since when do you need luck?” He asked.

“Since I’m not relying on sexy songs and sexy dancing for this one,” Harry answered quickly, looking over his shoulder nervously to see if the boys were hauling stuff in yet. When he turned back around, though, Louis grabbed his face and kissed him, quickly but thoroughly, and Harry was beaming when he ran back to grab Christine.

After the world’s fastest set-up, Harry took a breath and stepped up to the mic, nodding at a waitress he sometimes worked with for bringing three bottles of water for them. He tossed one back to Josh and left the other two up at the front of the stage, turning back around and relaxing almost instantly as he smiled at the people on the floor.

“Hi, everyone! We’re The Masochists; sorry for our absence last week,” he said, jutting his bottom lip out exaggeratedly so he didn’t let any real emotions show.

(Niall had told Harry that they’d cancelled the show, last week, that Nick was pissy about it, but Niall felt like he was more worried about Harry than anyone else. “Bro, I’m telling you, he’s got a thing for you,” he’d said.

Harry had just rolled his eyes. “Ni, you can’t just think every guy wants to fuck me just because I’m gay, man,” he’d said, and the subject had been forgotten when Niall got off-topic.)

“But, we’re back now! And we’ll be here for another four weeks!” Some people seemed really happy about that, but Louis cheered obnoxiously, making Harry bite his lip because he was so cute. “We’re gonna start off with a song I sing mentally every time I hear someone say the name ‘Jessie’. So, here we go!”

They started off with Rick Springfield’s Jessie’s Girl, and Louis smirked the entire song. Next, they sang Mr. Brightside by The Killers, and Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana, which Louis had clearly never heard before, because when Harry got to the chorus, getting loud and a little higher, he saw Louis jump in his seat and nearly laughed.

Niall joined Harry on vocals for their next cover, Separate Ways by Journey and on the chorus for Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper. Louis rolled his eyes when Harry got a little too into Time After Time to maintain his man card, but he sang Livin’ On A Prayer by Bon Jovi next, and he was pretty sure Louis was hiding his smile behind a sweet tea by the time he was done.

When Harry started singing Carry On, Wayward Son by Kansas, he got a few awesome shouts from people who were usually pretty quiet, so Harry grinned at them happily and focused on singing as well as he could.

Harry sang Jenny, Don’t Be Hasty by Paolo Nutini, because he hadn’t in weeks, and then covered The Outfield, singing Your Love specifically for the line you know, I like my girls a little bit older. He was clever.

He ended with The Calling, Wherever You Will Go, and stared mostly at Louis as he sang the break down, run away with my heart; run away with my hope, run away with my love.

“Thanks for being a great audience; we’re The Masochists, and it was great to play to you!” He called out, spreading his arms wide for the handful of cheers. “We’ll be here next Friday night, so bring your gorgeous faces, if you could; I’d appreciate it, and so would the owner!”

As Harry, Niall, and Josh took everything down and loaded up, the boys were smiley and relaxed, not as keyed-up as they usually were, and Harry, himself, felt similarly. He wondered if so much of the adrenaline was actually sexual tension from playing more sexual songs.

Louis was in the bathroom when Harry and Niall got back to the table – apparently, Louis had been dancing in his seat, not wanting to disappear during the band’s set – so Harry took Louis’ seat and nearly choked on the overload of sweetness when he took a drink from Louis’ sugar-coma-inducing sweet tea.

Louis came back and, without hesitating, climbed up on Harry’s lap, wrapping his arms around him and giving him a great, big kiss on the cheek. “You were awesome,” he said, smiling at Harry proudly. “You, too, Niall, you guys are seriously good,” he added, and with a simple sentence, Louis secured his friendship with Niall for life. Nobody loved The Masochists more than Niall loved The Masochists.

He beamed, leaning over to high-five Louis enthusiastically, and shouted, “Fuckin’ thanks, man!” He ordered too much food and cajoled the other four men into staying and helping him eat it, all the while talking about Barbara and frowning when Liam and Zayn wouldn’t talk girls with him.

Louis stayed next to Harry most of the night, eating so much food Harry offered to buy him his own plate of quesadillas, but when he mentioned it, Louis blushed and pushed the plate away, blushing, and that was an issue Harry wasn’t willing to press in front of their friends.

Louis got along with Niall pretty well – it was obvious, a few times, that the things Niall said caught Louis off-guard, but he seemed to remember Harry’s words, that Niall rarely meant it if it was offensive, and he relaxed after a few times. Zayn was quiet, but he and Louis had apparently bonded already, because they shared suspiciously identical grins triggered, as far as Harry could tell, by nothing much, and Liam, surprisingly, relaxed a lot around Harry’s friends and was more like a young twenty-five-year-old man than an old, polite grandpa on muscular steroids.

Niall wanted to stay out late, but around one, Harry called it a night. Niall whined, pissy about Harry bailing, but Harry had to work, and it looked like Louis was starting to feel a little queasy. Liam and Zayn offered to stay with Niall for a little while longer, at least, so Harry didn’t get too much wrath, and he had to smile when Niall hugged Louis tightly.

“Great to meet you, Louis,” he said loudly as he thumped Louis hard on the back when he stood to leave. “You’ll have to keep comin’ around, alright?”

Louis grinned a little shyly and nodded, ducking his head and letting himself lean on Harry on the way out.

He threw up as soon as they got back to Harry’s place, rushing to the kitchen sink and swearing and apologizing when he was sick on some of Harry’s dishes. “I’ll do them; I swear,” he tried, but Harry just rolled his eyes and tossed him a rag from a drawer near the stove, and turned on the vegetable sprayer to get the worst of it after sending Louis to go brush his teeth.

He tucked Louis into bed and grabbed one of the acoustics, not tired enough yet for sleep. He sat in a chair next to the bed and propped his feet up on the mattress, and he played songs he’d learned when he was seventeen until Louis mumbled, “Play something I don’t know words to or put the thing away, shithead.” Harry chuckled and played the startlingly soft acoustic versions of screamo music Louis undoubtedly had never heard of, and he sighed as he fell asleep, a few fingers hooked over the curve of Harry’s ankle.

---

Sunday morning, Louis woke Harry up at eight, shoving at his shoulder repeatedly as he climbed out of the bed. “Gotta get up, Harry,” he mumbled. Harry grunted and rolled closer to him, pulling him back down into the bed and curling up around him tight. He buried his face against Louis’ spine and frowned, squeezing his eyes shut because he’d been trying to ignore the alarm clock, but Louis wouldn’t let him. “Harry. Get up,” Louis said, sighing exasperatedly.

“Why?” Harry moaned, shaking his head even as he asked. He didn’t care what the answer was; he was going to stay asleep, and Louis could deal with it.

“You’re telling your parents you knocked me up today, remember?” Louis said flatly, and Harry’s eyes opened, eyelashes brushing his back.

They stayed quiet a moment, almost like Louis could tell Harry needed a second to remember everything, and then Harry sighed. “Fuck,” he said, and slowly let go of Louis.

Louis rolled over on his other side while Harry sat up, blinking slowly and rubbing his hands over his face gently. “You can always bow out,” he said mildly, but Harry shook his head.

“I need to do it,” he said reluctantly into his hands, pressing his eyes back with more and more pressure until colors bursts beneath his eyelids. “Are you sure you want to come, still?” He checked, and Louis tutted and rubbed Harry’s shin.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, and Harry stretched and let out a sigh of relief. He hoped Louis couldn’t tell that’s what it was.

“Alright,” Harry said, nodding to himself. “Then, off we go.” He stood and leaned over the bed, hands bracing himself on the mattress, and gave Louis a chaste kiss just because he could, and walked out while Louis was still smiling like an idiot.

It was probably Harry’s favorite thing about being Louis’ boyfriend: Louis never turned down casual affection; it was almost like he craved it all of the time, and Harry, well. Harry had a lot to give, almost like what he’d kept to himself previously had welled up and was pressing against a dam, now that there was someone Harry allowed himself to give it to. In the back of his mind, Harry sometimes wondered if he was letting himself go too quickly; he knew people who did that (Zayn, though he’d never admit it), and he didn’t want to end up being made a fool of or making his and Louis’ relationship too married-coupley too soon and end up getting bored.

But Harry had always wanted to be in love, and get married and have kids, and that’s what worried him the most about Louis: this was the perfect situation. How could he be sure he wasn’t starting to become enamored with the idea of coupledom and raising a child with Louis, rather than actually falling for Louis, himself?

And it wasn’t as if Harry wanted someone to control or spoil all the time or talk to so sweetly it’d make people’s teeth rot. He wanted a healthy relationship with someone who treated him as an equal, even if they weren’t equal in all aspects – for example, Louis had been to college and gotten an education; Harry had dropped out after not very long and now technically worked three jobs to support his current standard of living. But Louis didn’t treat Harry like he was stupid, and in the weeks they’d known each other, Harry never felt like Louis was dumbing down his speech in effort to be on Harry’s academic level.

As Harry scrubbed his hair, he pro-and-con’d their relationship, deciding he’d discuss it with Gemma…and then, his stomach rolled.

Harry might be falling a little in love with the father of his child, and his very best friend didn’t even really know he was gay. Fuck.

When he stepped out of the shower, Harry opened the door to draw out the steam and wiped off the mirror, fastening a towel around his waist so he didn’t drip so bad. He brought out the box of jewelry boxes and, sighing, took out the box reserved for his clear spacers.

Before he could bring himself to take them out, though, Harry envisioned himself turning up at his mom’s door looking like he did everyday – artfully destroyed skin-tight jeans with an equally-shitty shirt and maybe something plaid to go over it, headscarf halfway keeping his hair back, thick eyeliner, maybe some color on his lids, and mascara so his eyelashes didn’t look stupid and non-existent, face covered in a multitude of piercings – and telling her he was gay, he had a boyfriend, and they were expecting a child in six or seven months.

It was terrifying, but for just a moment – in that mostly-dormant still defiant part of his mind, where his twelve-year-old mind still hurt that his mom would rather shove his body full of pills than talk to him, or hug him or ask him if he was okay – he felt quietly vindictive.

Two seconds later, he felt a little disgusted with himself; his mother had no idea what to do and was going through so much at the time, and he didn’t exactly make himself available to her. At least they were okay, now. With that thought, Harry put spacers in the piercings that could close up before he could get a needle through them again when he got home that night, dropping the rings he so cherished onto the soap dish for sterilization later.

When Harry looked at himself in the mirror once he was done with the rings, he felt naked, and he felt not even halfway as attractive and confident as he usually did. With a sigh and gritted teeth, he started wiping off the smears of makeup, nostrils flaring every time he snagged his eyebrow spacer and when he wiped over the recently-vacated hole of his anti-eyebrow, still a little tender.

His face completely nude, Harry changed out his earrings, leaving in only a small, discreet black hoops through both of his lobe piercings. His mother could deal with them; he couldn’t deal without something to make him feel more himself.

Frowning even more, Harry swallowed as he grabbed the nail polish remover and cotton balls from under the sink and, after turning the vent on, started taking off the black polish. It was chipped and looked ridiculous, anyway, but Harry still had to grind his teeth when it was all off, knowing he was taking it off to conform, rather than to give his nails a break or to put it on a little better.

And then came the hardest part: coming out of the bathroom. Louis had never seen Harry without makeup on; they hadn’t showered together, and Louis typically was gone when Harry got up in the mornings. He hadn’t seen Harry without piercings, really, either, excepting for a few days earlier, when he’d helped Harry pick out new rings for himself. But that was different.

Harry knew he was a mildly attractive man; he wasn’t some ridiculously self-conscious eleven-year-old anymore. And he knew Louis thought he was pretty hot, though a lot of that was also due to his body and, honestly, Harry thought, at least partially to his tattoos. But now, Harry looked like a completely different person, and Louis would be taking a multiple-hour drive to a tiny little town to meet the parents of someone he’d never even seen, in a way.

He came out of the bathroom and headed towards his room, looking through his jeans to find his least-ripped ones. He put on a black t-shirt, as usual, and left the plaid off, since it was supposed to get a little warm later in the day, and just shoved on his leather boots. When he left his room and neared the kitchen, where he could hear Louis making noises of disgust as he fried up an omelet for Harry.

“Smells good,” Harry said as he rounded the corner, trying to keep the nerves from his voice, like he was hoping Louis wouldn’t notice, or something.

“Glad you think so; your fucking ki-” Louis paused when he turned around, initially to throw an accusatory look Harry’s way, but he stopped in his tracks and his eyes widened. Harry’s own eyes widened in response, and Louis’ face softened as he turned back to the stove to flip the omelet before taking it off the pan and sliding it onto a plate.

Louis turned around and turned off the burner, leaning against the opposite counter and looking at Harry while he passed the plate to him.

“Thanks,” Harry said quietly, biting his lip. It felt wrong, without a ring in the way.

“You’re welcome,” Louis said, eyes roaming his face quickly, like he wanted to remember every small detail of it without makeup and rings. Harry ducked his head. “Hey,” Louis said, moving closer, eyebrows drawn in concern. “Why so serious?”

Harry tried to smile at the reference, but he couldn’t, gritting his teeth and standing up straight in response to his own vulnerability. Suddenly sick of feeling stupid and childish, he pushed his shoulders back, making himself look broad, and looked down at Louis.

“Stop that; you look like a snob,” Louis said, reaching out to put a hand on Harry’s stomach, over his shirt. “Why are you acting like that?” At Harry’s confused look, he added, “All weird. What’s wrong with you?”

Harry shrugged, but Louis folded his arms and stood there a little defiantly, like he’d wait until Harry broke, so Harry mumbled, “I have to chill on the stuff,” he said, waving a hand in front of his face, “or my mom’d have a heart attack.”

Louis looked surprised. “She doesn’t know you still wear makeup?” He asked, frowning.

Harry shrugged again. “I mean, she knows…like, she sees my Facebook, and stuff. But it’s kind of – a different thing, to, like, make her see it in person.”

Instead of grimacing and nodding in guilty agreement, like he kind of thought Louis’d do, Louis frowned and looked at Harry with his lip curled. “That’s stupid,” he said boldly, but Harry shook his head.

“Hey, it’s – it’s whatever. Like, we’re just going straight there, straight back, and we’re not meeting anyone but my parents, so…I’ll be okay.” He paused for a minute, and then stared at his plate while he cut the omelet with a fork. “Listen, uh,” he began a little awkwardly, feeling self-conscious as Louis stared at him. “I know you’ve never – seen me, uhm, without makeup before, but if you could just, you know, like, not…freak out? I’m really – basically, I kind of need all the encouragement I can get, and, you know, it’s stupid to be so self-conscious all the time with my boyfriend and my parents, but –”

“Harry,” Louis interrupted, sounding a little irritated. “How many times do I have to tell you that being self-conscious or having a less-than-stellar self-esteem isn’t stupid? It’s a real thing. We can’t all look like me,” he said, grinning only at the very last part, trying to ease the tension.

Harry continued cutting the omelet into pieces, frowning and sighing. “I wish Gemma could be there,” he said a little sadly.

Gemma was all set to come visit the same day as Harry, but she’d gotten called into work and couldn’t make it, last minute. Louis was incredible, Harry knew, and he really didn’t even think his parents would freak out too badly, but his sister was the person he could trust always, no matter what, and he could never get tired of her company or dry wit, so similar to his own. She’d know how to make this work.

Louis stood and came up behind Harry, wrapping his arms around Harry’s stomach. His hands slid underneath Harry’s black t-shirt, rubbing his abs and sighing into his back appreciatively. “Hey, it’s going to be fine, okay?” He mumbled, pressing a kiss on Harry’s spine. “You don’t need makeup to be attractive, and you don’t need a bare face for it, either.”

Harry smiled, looking over his shoulder at Louis as he continued to cut up his omelet. When he was done, Harry took a deep breath and turned around, tilting his face to Louis so he could get a good look at him. Not wanting to see the look on Louis’ face, he closed his eyes and scrunched up his nose, ready for Louis to criticize.

Instead, though, Harry felt Louis’ hands cupping his face, fingers stroking over his eyebrows and feather-light over his eyelids, his thumbs filling up the skin under his eyes. “Can you look at me?” Louis asked quietly, and Harry opened his eyes, his breath hitching.

Louis was staring at him looking amazed, but not like Harry was a freak show. He looked…in awe of him, or something, and when Harry’s eyes met Louis’ he smiled softly. “You look handsome as ever,” he said, and it looked like he was telling the truth.

Harry leaned down and kissed him gently, not wanting to ruin how emotionally sincere the moment felt.

---

Phoenicia, New York was a small town near the Catskills, a little out of the way and mostly unknown to people who didn’t grow up in or near it. Louis watched out the windows curiously, transfixed and defending himself when Harry teased him for it, complaining that he’d always lived near a big city growing up, always close to Manhattan. Harry drove down narrow roads, some of them dirt and gravel, and sighed as he turned down the too-familiar street.

When they pulled up to Harry’s parents’ house, Louis’ nose was practically glued to the window, taking in the place. “Well, here it is,” Harry said. “Sixty-seven Woodland Clove Road, Phoenicia, New York.” Staring at the house, Harry felt what he felt every time he’d visited since he left: he didn’t want to be there.

“Are you ready for this?” Louis asked, squeezing Harry’s hand from the passenger seat, drawing him out of his pity part of one. “I can get a cab and go on home; you can just say your friend got sick, or –”

“Really, I think I need you here,” Harry interrupted him, staring down at his lap and fiddling with a loose thread, trying to pull it loose so his mom wouldn’t see it. “Come on,” he said, sighing, but Louis only leaned in to kiss his cheek before he unbuckled himself.

Harry waited until Louis rounded the front of the car and grabbed his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “They’re still at church,” he told Louis, smiling, “but they should be home pretty soon. Are you hungry?”

Louis nodded, scrunching his nose a little, like he was guilty, so Harry smiled over at him as he opened the door, urging Louis in ahead of him. “To your right is the kitchen,” he said, shutting the door behind him as he followed Louis. Almost as soon as they entered the house, Louis tensed up, looking over his shoulder to Harry several times as he walked down the hallway, like he was making sure Harry was still following him.

Entering the kitchen, Louis stood in a corner of the counters, crossing his legs at the ankle and looking around curiously while Harry looked through the fridge. There was some chicken thawing, so Harry took it out, along with some eggs, flour, and pepper, and grabbed a giant mixing bowl. Harry started washing the chicken strips, but let Louis quietly take over while he mixed together the rest of the ingredients and talked about the house, giving a few good memories, like the things Robin did to try to win him over, back when he and Harry’s mom had just started dating.

By the time Harry was grabbing the pan to cook the chicken strips in, Louis was a little more relaxed, laughing when Harry got to the night Robin had let Harry and Gemma do his hair and makeup and then took them out for ice cream looking like a complete idiot. “We really put that poor man through the ringer,” Harry said, smiling at the memories while Louis covered his mouth with the back of his wrist, not wanting to touch his face with his egg-y hands.

They heard the crunch of gravel and a horn honked twice, quickly, and Harry and Louis both straightened up. “Mom and Robin,” Harry announced to Louis, smiling encouragingly. Louis put on a brave smile, though Harry could tell he was a little nervous, so he grabbed his hand, laughing when Louis cringed in disgust – Louis’ egg-soaked hand mixing with Harry’s flour-covered one made him look like he wanted to gag.

“Don’t you want to go out and greet them?” Louis asked, though he made no move.

“Don’t need to,” Harry said, just as they heard the front door opening up.

“Harry? Darling, are you here?”

Louis jumped as Anne’s voice filled the house, so Harry snickered before he called out, “We’re in the kitchen, Mom!” There were distinct sounds of hurrying – Harry was pretty sure he heard his mom elbow Robin out of the way – and Harry left the chicken to soak up the egg, flour, and pepper mixture when he heard his mom stop in the doorway.

When he looked, Louis had washed his hands and was toying with his shirt, fidgety, but Anne was staring completely at Harry, her eyes watery with tears. “You’re home,” she said, her voice breaking, and Harry didn’t even have time to fully smile before she was in his arms, crying on his shoulder.

“Mom, you saw me, like, five months ago at Christmas,” he said, chuckling. “It’s not like I’ve been at war; I’m only a few hours away!”

“I know, but I’ve missed you so much,” she said, her voice vibrating on his shoulder. “And you’re never here but Thanksgiving and Christmas, and I never know how you are…”

Harry felt a little guilt churning in his stomach; he had no problem seeing his parents. In fact, he missed them very often. He just couldn’t stand coming back to Phoenicia, where everything had happened. He refrained from rubbing his floury hands over his mom’s back and smiled up at Robin in greeting. “Hey, you guys are always welcome to come visit me; I know I’ve told you that, haven’t I?”

It only made Anne cry a little harder, and Harry spared a second to wonder what Louis was thinking, standing and watching behind them. After too long, though, Harry ignored the flour and grabbed his mom’s shoulders, pushing her back far enough to make eye contact. Her eyes roamed his face, flickering from piercing hole to spacer and back.

“I mean it,” he said firmly. “You guys should come visit me. I’d love to see you more often. But,” he said emphatically, wiping underneath his mom’s eyes with flour-y hands as she laughed, a little embarrassed, “You’re gonna have to stop your water-works, because I’ve got a guest, and I want you and Robin to meet him.”

Anne squeaked and turned away from both Harry and Louis, wiping her eyes and fixing her general face, and Robin laughed as he came in closer, wrapping Harry in a tight hug and clapping his back before kissing the side of his head.

“Harry, boy, it’s good to see you again,” he said in his rumbly voice. “Been good?”

“Ah, you know me,” Harry deflected with a smile. “Sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll, all the time.” They both laughed in a bro-dude sort of way that normally, Harry would cringe a little at, but it was acceptable with Robin. “Nah, just working a lot, really. Uhm, Mom, are you – can I introduce everyone?” Harry reached back towards Louis and looked over his shoulder, wanting him to step up, and when Louis did, Harry smiled.

“So, Mom, Robin, this is Louis Tomlinson. Louis, this is my mom, Anne, and my dad, Robin.”

“It’s really nice to meet you guys,” Louis said politely, shaking Robin’s hand firmly and stepping in to give a slightly confused Anne a hug.

“You, too, Louis,” Robin said, and Anne just looked between the two of them, how they were standing so close, and Harry took a deep breath – but it wasn’t time, just yet.

Instead, Robin grunted in discomfort, saving the awkward moment as he tugged on his tie. “Honey, I think I’m going to die if I don’t get out of these clothes,” he complained, and Anne rolled her eyes, but stepped back.

“Harry, darling, you’ve got lunch, right?” She checked, and Harry nodded, smiling. “Great, we’re just going to change into something more appropriate. We’ll be right out.” With that, she gave Louis a friendly smile, and ushered Robin out of the room, heading up the stairs towards their bedroom to change.

Harry was quiet as he turned back around to the stove, lighting the burner and placing a few strips down onto it, making it hiss. He could feel Louis watching him, but Harry was just content enough to have seen his mom and had a positive half-interaction with her. He’d missed her hugs, and her overly-formal way of speaking for a small-town New Yorker, and he just wanted a nice day with his parents before she threw them out.

Okay. She wouldn’t ever throw them out…but Harry knew this confession could very easily break her heart.

“So,” Louis said, drawing the word out like he was unsure of his place.

“So,” Harry echoed a little more lightly, smiling over at him as he grabbed another pan to make the cooking go faster.

“You – uh, when do you think you’re going to tell them?” Louis asked quietly, looking around.

Harry bit his lip a little nervously. “Would you mind – I mean, I was thinking maybe if, like, they just talked to you and got to know you, even just the basics, or whatever…and then told them? That way I’m not – I mean, I’m thrusting a boyfriend and sexuality in their faces, either way, but that way at least you’re not a complete and total stranger?”

Louis looked at Harry encouragingly, reaching to touch his arm. “Hey,” he said quietly, soothing Harry’s nerves. “This is your coming out; you can do it however you want to. Plus, you know them; if you think knowing me will help, then it probably will, and we can do it that way. This is about you – and our baby,” he said, mouthing the word, “more than it is about me. Do what you need to.”

Harry didn’t bother looking around – the stairs creaked like nobody’s business – before he leaned in to give Louis a quick kiss. “Thank you,” he said quietly, knocking their foreheads together lightly before retreating back into a normal personal space.

The chicken was mostly done by the time Harry’s parents came back, so Louis grabbed some pears and an instant pack of mashed potatoes – four cheese, because Harry could never say no to him even though he preferred the ones with the chives – and prepared them while Anne set the table and Robin grabbed them all drinks.

He asked Louis if he’d want a beer, as well, and Louis subconsciously rubbed his belly when he said, “No, thank you, I’m pr- I’m not really a fan.” Harry froze, relaxing when Louis saved himself and nobody else seemed to notice the near slip-up, and they exchanged looks, like, that was close, oh my gosh when Robin turned back to the fridge to see what other drinks they had to offer.

Harry didn’t mean to brag – well, actually, he kind of did – but his chicken fried steak was incredible, and Louis’ mashed potatoes were alright, as well. Harry never was a fan of pears. Too gooey, or too firm; they were never just right.

“So, Louis,” Anne started pleasantly, “how do you know our Harry?”

Louis looked over at Harry, a little nervously, and Harry stepped in. “He came to one of my shows with a friend,” he said, smiling proudly, and Louis nodded, wearing an almost-identical smile.

“He’s incredible,” Louis gushed, smiling. “I’ve never been a big fan of rock, and, you know, the eighties were before I was born, so…but Harry’s really turned me on to it; I go to every performance.”

“Harry,” Anne admonished, looking a little shocked, “you didn’t tell us you had a show!”

“I thought Gemma would,” Harry said honestly, giving her an apologetic grimace to placate her. “It’s really nothing much, just, you know, we’re playing at the Otto Bar –”

“The Otto Bar?” Robin interrupted, looking impressed. “Harry, boy, the Otto Bar is no easy feat –”

“You mean you and The – uhm, The Masters?” Anne asked, scrunching her face, like she knew that wasn’t right, but couldn’t remember what was.

“The Masochists,” Harry corrected, smiling. “Yeah, me and Niall and our drummer, Josh. And I knew the owner,” Harry said, addressing Robin, “so it’s really not –”

“He’s being modest,” Louis interrupted, rolling his eyes, and leaned in closer to Harry’s parents, like he was telling a secret. “They’re incredible, and Harry is a fantastic performer. Stage presence like you wouldn’t believe; everyone really likes him.”

Harry tried to fight down a blush, and wished he was wearing makeup. Not that it would hide the heat in his cheeks, but at least he wouldn’t feel so naked. “Stop,” he said quietly, but Louis only smiled. Harry wondered, briefly, where the shy Louis had gone. While Harry liked that he seemed comfortable, there was something about him that seemed a little off. Maybe it was just his own nerves, and he was projecting them, or something.

Anne looked conflicted, torn between pride in her son and quiet disapproval of Harry’s “hobby”. “Well, Harry certainly did always have the voice of a little angel,” she settled for, smiling at Harry, who grinned back.

“So, tell us about the gig,” Robin said. “Is it a regular thing?”

Harry nodded, chewing his food as he covered his mouth and replied, “We were signed on for every Friday for eight weeks, and after that, Nick – the owner of the bar – said he’d talk to us about something a little more frequent, maybe.”

“That’s great, boy,” Robin said, beaming. “Glad to see you finally chasing what you want. Still at the parlor, though?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered. “Zayn’s uncle’s got me full time, now, so I’m under some really good benefits, you know, and Nick also gave me a small little bar tending thing, for whenever I want extra money, or whatever. Puts me on the schedule a few nights a week, so.” Harry shrugged, smiling a little. “It’s good; I’m doing pretty good.”

It was nice to be able to tell them that; the last time they’d really asked after his working situation, he’d just been hired on as an actual employee, rather than an apprentice, at the parlor, and he was struggling. He’d thrown a fit once Anne had tried to sneak him money out of pity and worry, and they rarely brought work up in family gatherings as a discussion topic.

“So, Louis, what about you? What brings a guy like you into a bar The Masochists are playing in?” Anne asked, voice changing awkwardly, like she was trying to keep any judgmental inflection from her voice.

Louis frowned for a half a second, like he’d picked it up, as well, but he forced a smile and answered, “Me and my closest business partner, Liam, go there on Fridays. We always have meetings with the higher-ups, and it gets a little stressful. I didn’t know Harry’s band would be playing, but Zayn saw us watching and getting into it, I guess, and came over to join us and talked about them all, and introduced us after the show.”

“The bar’s changing its sort of…theme, I guess,” Harry supplied. “Nick’s in charge, now that his dad died, so he’s trying to kind of bring in a younger, more underground type of crowd. It used to be more of a white- or blue-collared kind of place.”

Anne nodded. “Oh, okay,” she said. “What do you do, then, Louis?”

“I’m an executive recruiter,” Louis answered, wiping at his mouth with a napkin politely. “I do mostly independent work, but I’m still technically under Lucas Group, and I’m really liking it, there. I moved around, a little, kind of switching firm to firm, and the life and the people never really felt right until I met Liam, who was with B.E. Smith at the time, at a nation-wide conference in Albany, and after a while, we both made the jump to Lucas Group, and we’ve loved it ever since.”

“I love when you find the just-right spot,” Anne said, smiling encouragingly. “So, you moved around a lot?”

“Yes, ma’am, for a while,” Louis said, nodding. “I stayed mostly north-east coast, and did some work from Nevada, but I’m a Manhattan man, born and bred, so being away from the family was a little too rough on me. I’ve got five sisters and a little brother, and we’re all pretty close. It was a better decision to move back home,” Louis shrugged, eyes glowing as he talked about his family. Harry wished he had that, or at the very least, he wished Louis’ eyes would glow like that when he talked about Harry.

Lunch passed nicely, Harry and his parents catching each other up and filling Louis in, telling funny stories but not really talking about much of anything important, otherwise.

Anne, Harry, and Louis cleaned up while Robin ran to the convenience store for ice cream – Louis had wanted to go, since with his nausea, he could hardly tell what he’d want or hate until he got his eyes on it, but one look at Harry’s face, paling at the thought of going out in public, had Louis brushing his wishes to the side. He could deal without dessert, if he didn’t like what they got.

Anne chattered aimlessly, like she was just happy to have company, and it made Harry feel a little bad for not inviting her up before. He’d assumed she was just aware that she could come visit, but, given their up-and-down relationship, maybe it wasn’t really all too obvious, and that made him a little sad.

Before long, though, Robin was back with cookies ‘n’ cream and mint chocolate chip, and Harry scooped giant portions for himself while Louis ate his mint chocolate chip from a small coffee mug, knowing the sugar would make him feel gross if he had too much too fast. They sat out on the back porch, screened in to keep bugs away, and enjoyed the sun of the late afternoon.

Louis got sleepy, so Harry went out into the back yard and laid down on the hammock with him, like he used to do with Zayn and Gemma (but never Niall; Niall farted any time he got too relaxed, and sharing a close space with him, especially when the swinging of the hammock made it hard to escape quickly, was a bad idea).

Harry must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes, the sun had set and it was getting a little chilly again, so close to the mountains. Louis was looking up at the sky, and Harry sighed. He really wanted to kiss him. This day was exactly the kind of early-summer day he wanted to spend with Louis and their child, curled up between them on the hammock, enjoying the sun and everyone’s families.

Anne called them in for dinner, before too long, and as Harry helped Louis up from the hammock, he resolved to tell them, because he wanted to be able to have those days, whenever he came to visit.

So, at dinner, Harry squeezed Louis’ thigh until he jumped, and took a deep breath.

“So, uhm, I think we should – I think we have to have a talk,” Harry said a little shakily, and everyone looked up at him curiously.

Harry held Louis’ hand under the table, Robin and Anne sitting across from them, and Harry bit his lip before he blurted out, “I’m gay.”

Robin sighed and sat back, like he was relieved, but Anne’s lips tightened. “You’re –”

“Gay,” Harry finished for her when her mouth froze, like she couldn’t say the word. “I’m – yeah, uhm, I am attracted to boys…particularly Louis.”

Louis squeezed his hand hard when both Robin and Anne looked from Harry to him. Robin looked merely curious, but Anne’s gaze had a bit of edge to it, especially when she licked her lips and looked between the two of them and angled her body more towards Harry.

“Sweetheart,” she said gently, looking emotionally very upset. “I know you didn’t – have the easiest time, in high school, but, uh. Is this…a result of, you know, what those boys did to you?”

Harry blushed, humiliated she would jump to blaming his sexuality on something like that, and shook his head. “No – Mom, that was, I never…I never, uhm, told you, but those – you remember Max? Max George?” Anne looked furious – she remembered Harry telling her, in a therapy session, that Max was behind all the activities, and that he had urged Harry to sleep with all those boys and given him all the drugs and alcohol. “He was actually, uh, my first boyfriend.”

Anne’s nostrils flared and she scowled. “You were dating that boy?” She nearly growled at him, and Harry bit his lip again, stomach churning uncomfortably.

“We can – we can talk about that later, I promise,” Harry hedged, “but for now, I want to – uh, announce something else. Uhm, so, yeah, Louis is my boyfriend, and we’re – we’re having a baby.” Upon announcing this news, Harry grinned, happiness welling up in his chest, and Louis smiled a little nervously and hopefully at Harry’s parents.

And just like that, Robin’s face lit up, and Anne’s upset was momentarily forgotten, and Harry suddenly very distinctly remembered his mom always complaining on holidays that her friends had several grandchildren right now and she had none, and that at the rate her children were going, she’d not be a grandma until she was on her deathbed.

“You’re – a baby?” Anne echoed with wide eyes, and Robin scooted his chair back and rubbed at his face a few times. Harry’s mom had tears in her eyes as she looked between the two, and Harry and Louis looked at each other a little nervously, hopeful that they weren’t about to be thrown from the house.

Finally, though, Robin moved his hands away and he reached across the table to them, smiling widely. Harry and Louis, a little bewildered, glanced at each other before they separated their hands and reached towards Robin’s. Robin grabbed hold of them, his hands so big they dwarfed even Harry’s, and squeezed them, his face red.

“Anne,” he said, looking at his wife with a giant smile. “They’re giving us grandchildren.”

“Just one, I think,” Louis interrupted with a little, slightly-nervous laugh.

Anne finally smiled, and let out a sob. “You – you’re pregnant?” She asked Louis, who smiled and went a little pink as he nodded.

“About a month in, the doctor said,” he told her, and she sobbed again.

Harry’s parents cried for a few minutes, and Anne ended up pulling Harry and Louis into hugs each, getting tears all over their shirts. They laughed when Louis’ stomach growled fiercely, though he patted his belly and grimaced sheepishly.

Everyone was still emotional, but they all began to eat again, quiet and thoughtful, for the most part, and Harry felt lighter than he had in years. Louis held Harry’s hand under the table, and Harry ate with gusto, suddenly ravenous.

Harry and Louis offered to do the dishes, pushing Anne and Robin out of the room to let them adjust to their thoughts before they discussed anything further. Harry’s mom certainly didn’t want to stop talking about the baby, but Robin must have seen the slightly-overwhelmed look on both of their faces, because he gently led his wife out of the room and onto the back porch to chat and relax while Harry and Louis cleaned up.

Louis got a strange look on his face and asked Harry where the bathroom was, so Harry pointed it out and gave Louis his privacy, remembering how embarrassed he’d been at the doctor’s office only a few days ago.

After a while, Louis came back in, wrapped his arms around Harry from behind, and rested his head between Harry’s shoulders. “That went well,” he said mildly, like he was trying to get a feel for how Harry had interpreted it.

Harry nodded, smiling to himself for a moment. “It did,” he said quietly, a little amazed. “It went really well.”

Louis rubbed Harry’s belly for a few minutes in quiet before he asked, “Did you…really not tell your mom what happened in high school?”

Harry scrunched his nose up, though Louis couldn’t see him, and sighed a little. He set down a mixing bowl and then turned in Louis’ arms, rubbing his hands on Louis’ shoulders. “No,” he said quietly. Louis looked surprised, and Harry couldn’t blame him.

“Mom didn’t have a clue what was going on at school, what with Gems being at a different school, and Zayn being a loyal friend. She just thought I was acting out to fit in. Dangers of public school, and all,” he said, laughing a little – because now, it wasn’t quite so un-funny. But Louis didn’t laugh, so Harry continued. “Mom never had any boys around her, no brothers, her dad wasn’t about to give her advice, so she didn’t know what to do about me. When Zayn ratted me out, at the end, she…freaked out, completely, and shoved me back into therapy – didn’t even try to talk to me. Granted, I wouldn’t have opened up,” he admitted. “Not then. But I still resented her for not at least trying, so I kept my mouth shut. I knew I needed help, though, and Zayn could really only do so much, so I opened up to the shrink. But, since I was a minor, everything I told her that involved criminal activity, abuse, or suicidal or dangerous thoughts had to be reported to a parent, so. She knew the basics, but only the bare minimum, because of the way the confidentiality laws work.

“She knew, obviously, that I’d been…passed around – both from the therapist and because the therapist sent me to the hospital to have me checked for injuries or diseases, or anything. So, she knew I’d had sex, but, you know. Didn’t, uh…know I liked it, sometimes.”

Louis made a face Harry couldn’t read, but it was gone soon enough, and he leaned in to rest his head on Harry’s chest, reaching underneath Harry’s shirt to rub at his back.

“When I got back, you know, and started hanging out with Zayn all the time, she started relaxing, and Zayn kept me close to his side and brought me home by curfew, and Mom liked James enough, and Niall grew on her, and she got used to Zayn’s little crew. She never had a reason to think I might be anything but straight, but I started the eyeliner and all the self-piercing and I got a tattoo the second I turned eighteen, and then just kept getting them… She probably just thought no girls wanted to date me, or I never told her about girlfriends, or something.”

Louis made a disgruntled sound at the mention of Harry dating girls, and Harry chuckled and tilted his head to the side, resting it atop Louis and wrapping his arms loosely around him.

“I’m glad you’re here, with me, now,” Louis said quietly, and Harry hummed and tightened his arms around his waist.

“Oh,” Anne said suddenly, from the door.

Louis jumped and broke away from Harry, turning around and looking like he’d been caught shoplifting. Harry stood up a little straighter, and smiled welcomingly at his mom, hoping she would take the peace offering he was giving.

Anne smiled back and stepped into the kitchen, giving Louis a smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said, “I was just wondering if I could steal Harry away from you for a minute, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, not,” Louis said, gesturing towards Harry like he was giving her a gift.

“Gonna be good here?” Harry asked him, and Louis nodded. “TV’s in the room just that way,” he reminded Louis, pointing towards the door on the other side of the dining room. “Old and worn-out remote; it’s easy to figure it out.” He ran a hand down Louis’ back and left with his mom, heading out to the porch, Robin nowhere in sight.

They sat on the swing together, and Harry waited for his mom to speak. He felt naked, without his makeup, only adding to the vulnerability this conversation was causing before it had even properly started.

“I don’t understand,” she admitted finally, not looking at him, like she knew how small he felt. “How you can…I mean, baby, don’t think – I just don’t understand… What you went through must have been hell, what those – those boys did to you, and now, it’s like you’re…chasing it all over again. I’ve read, you know, psychology books and things, when you were a teenager and we were having such a hard time with you. I read once that – children who are victims of sexual abuse sometimes…act out. Sexually, I mean. To – for a control thing. It that…what this is? I just don’t understand how it could appeal to you.”

Harry let her say her peace, and when it seemed like she was done, he started rocking them back and forth with his long legs as he thought. “I’m about to tell you something I should have a really, really long time ago,” he said, frowning when she looked over at him, eyes wide with fear.

“Remember how, when I was a kid, I was really girly and weird?” He asked, glancing at his mom to see her nod. “And Dad wasn’t a fan of it? …He used to – I mean, I know you ended it when you saw him slapping me around, but he also said a lot of stuff. Nothing, like, particularly even threatening, just insulting. Called me a freak, and weird, and stuff, and told me the way I acted was wrong and weird and that it made me stand out, why couldn’t I just blend in, stuff like that. …And, you know, when he picked me up from school, he’d do it in front of the kids, sometimes, so when he was just suddenly gone, everyone knew it was because of me. So they started picking on me, and – well, you know that much, Zayn coming to the rescue and all. But then he moved a year ahead of me and I started hanging out with the kids he was sort of associated with, since he could fight. Nobody messed with me, as long as I fit in with them, you know. And then, like, right before I started high school, this guy from Max’s circle of friends invited us to a party, sort of an initiation thing, so we all went, and…that’s kind of where it all started.”

Harry was rehashing information he’d already given her; he knew she already knew a lot of this, but finally, he said, “I think I fell, like, a little bit in love with him. He was nice to me, and gave me attention, and made me feel like I wasn’t such a freak, and anytime I felt wronged, I just figured it was because I was so much younger than him, that I didn’t know how real relationships worked, and stuff.”

Harry took a deep breath and finally turned around and looked at her. “Mom, I’ve been gay since I was a kid. It’s nothing, like – I’m not chasing what those guys did to me. It’s not – Louis is seriously nothing like that at all. He’s so nice, Mom, and he’s smart and driven and funny, and he’s not a pushover but he’s not a di- a jerk, and I really need you to be okay with us, because honestly, if we keep progressing at, like, the rate we’re going at now, I think I might fall in love with him before this kid’s even born. And I understand if you – think it’s wrong, or, you know, disgusting, like. I can’t blame you, you know, you’re entitled to your own opinion, but I would really like to keep you in my life, because I love you, and I trust you, and there aren’t many people I’m comfortable around, and I never want my kid to realize that and start mistrusting people the way I did. I really want you to love Louis and our baby. I really… I really want you to love me.”

Harry’s mom had some tears in her eyes, yet again - honestly, she was so ridiculously emotional, Harry thought as he blinked rapidly and swallowed the lump slowly forming in his throat – and took a deep breath before she nodded, reaching for his hand. “Baby,” she said, “please don’t ever think I wouldn’t love you, or accept you. You’re giving me a grandchild, Harry, and you’re working and you’re – I guess you’re in a healthy relationship, now, and I don’t… I’ll be honest, I never thought for a second you might not be straight, but I guess that’s just my narrow mind coming into play. I never even thought about it. …But I’m not upset, Harry, not if you’re safe and happy. I’ll tell you,” she added, a little steel into her voice this time, “if I ever think Louis might be hurting you, I’ll lock him in prison, and God’ll lock him in Hell. But I will always love you, and I will love that baby he’s carrying, no matter what.”

Harry swallowed hard again and leaned forward to hug her tightly. “I love you so much,” he said. “I know we didn’t have the easiest time, always, but even when I hated you, I loved you, and I needed you.” Anne sobbed a few times, making Harry laugh a little bit, and they stayed close for a few minutes, enjoying it.

Finally, Harry nuzzled his head against hers and said, “I was serious, you know, about coming to visit. I don’t – I don’t not visit because of you; it’s…this place, I think.”

Anne pulled back and nodded, stroking his cheek fondly. “I understand,” she said, nodding. “But I’m so glad you came and told us about you and Louis and the baby. It – I’m not going to pretend; it’s a strange thought to me, Harry, and I don’t understand it at all…but I’m going to get used to it. I will. Because nothing is bigger than my love for you, and it never will be.”

Harry smiled and kissed her cheek, feeling like he’d lost twenty pounds of worry and weight that had been pressing down on him for the past two weeks.

His mom rolled her watery eyes and patted his cheek fondly just as Robin poked his head around, saying that Louis had found the game closet and wanted to learn how to play Phase Ten, so Harry gave one more peaceful smile to his mom before they both got up, returning to the house.

Louis was sitting guiltily at the table when Harry and his mom came in, and Harry smiled. In front of Louis was a deck of brightly-colored cards, and when Harry sat down next to Louis, the man leaned in and whispered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d go get you right now.”

“It’s okay,” Harry said quietly, smiling. “It’s fine; we were at a stopping point, anyway.”

Anne sat down at the table across from Louis, and cut the deck in half, shuffling. “So, Louis,” she said, grabbing their attention while Robin grabbed himself another beer and handed Harry a Dasani. “Robin says you want to learn to play Phase Ten.”

Louis nodded. Harry almost felt sorry for him; Phase Ten got cutthroat at the Styles-Twist household. It was practically religion to their family. Louis was in for a treat.

---

Harry woke up a few days later with a gasp when he heard Louis shouting in the bathroom, swearing up a blue streak. He made his way quickly, glad that at least Louis didn’t seem to be in pain, and when he opened the door, Louis’ face was a little red and his hair was an absolute mess.

“Lou?”

Louis turned to Harry, glaring at him and looking like he’d just been sent through the ringer. His button-up wasn’t all the way buttoned, and neither were his pants. “Never mind,” Louis said, throwing his hands up into the air, as if they’d been in the middle of a conversation. “Fuck it. I’m not going to work today. I’ll just stay home and be a fucking Beluga whale.” As if demonstrating his point, Louis tried to pull the buttons of his pants together, and they came together, but a bit of pudge now sat on top of the waistline where it shouldn’t be sitting.

Harry snorted before he could stop himself, and Louis growled as he shouldered Harry out of the way, bowling past him and muttering the entire way to Harry’s room.

Harry followed him after a second, having already decided to apologize – Louis wasn’t unconfident, by any means, but he took a lot of pride in his appearance and was always meticulous about going to work looking professional and attractive, as he often had meetings with little to no notice beforehand, in his line of work.

When he got to his room, though, Louis was rifling through his closet, muttering a little louder than before and calling Harry anything but a child of God. “What are you looking for?” Harry finally asked, after Louis muttered that Harry was an idiotic fucking smellfungus and Harry nearly laughed again.

“Your black button-up,” Louis answered. “I can’t wear my sized-medium shirts because I’m a fat-ass, now, so I’m apparently going to have to act like some clingy freak, or something, and wear my boyfriend’s clothes. God, what am I, a fucking Fifty Shades character?”

Harry sighed and sat down on the bed, rubbing his thighs as he watched Louis throw a fit and pull out every other shirt in Harry’s closet. “I’m not putting those shirts back for you after you go to work,” he said mildly, very much meaning his words but not really caring about the mess. “I’m not your maid.”

“I know that, Harold,” Louis said, irritated, over his shoulder. “If you were my maid you wouldn’t have knocked me up and made me fat.”

Harry sighed, standing up and closing in, kissing the crown of Louis’ head when he was pressed behind him. “Louis, you’re not fat,” he said, rubbing Louis’ shoulders in an attempt to make him relax. “Your body is preparing for a baby, and all that sweet shit.” He probably wasn’t very good at this. “You’re still hot as hell,” he added, and Louis sighed and let Harry turn him around.

“You’re just saying that,” he mumbled, looking away, and Harry grabbed his chin.

“Hey,” he said, and then smiled wickedly. “I still wanna fuck you.”

Louis pouted for a few more seconds until, eventually, he sighed. “Yeah?” He asked, and in answer, Harry leaned forward and bit Louis’ lip. Louis sighed a tiny little moaning sound, and Harry gripped his jaw hard and tilted his face away to scrape teeth against his neck.

He licked a stripe to Louis’ ear and said, “Oh, yeah. In fact, if we didn’t both have work today, I’d throw you down right now and fuck you until you cried.”

Louis shivered, and Harry chuckled, letting a hand trail down Louis’ chest and stomach. He slid his palm, flat, against the bulge starting to make itself known in the unbuttoned pants. Louis’ hips pushed against the hand, looking for more friction, but Harry pulled his hand away and sucked Louis’ ear lobe. “Drink lots of water tonight,” he said, and Louis’ breath hitched.

Harry took a few steps back until he got back in bed, throwing the covers over his face to shield from the light coming in from the window and bathroom. “And that shirt’s hanging up in the laundry room,” Harry called, rolling over and drifting off again as soon as he could.

---

When Harry got home from work, Louis was leaning up against his door, crouched over, a water bottle in his hands. “Hey, Lou,” Harry greeted, and Louis looked up from where he was crouched, his face flushed and eyes a little dark.

“Oh, hey, Lou,” Harry said, voice going deeper almost like it was on purpose. He moved around Louis, grabbing his keys and unlocking the apartment door. “Everything alright?”

Louis bit his lip but didn’t say anything, looking around the hallway until Harry pulled him into the apartment. He shut the door and cupped Louis’ face with both hands, desire burning. Louis had listened to him, when he wasn’t even there to remind him. “Been a good boy today?” Harry asked against Louis’ mouth, and Louis whimpered but, again, said nothing.

Harry started pulling Louis deeper into the apartment, making his way to the bathroom; he needed tile flooring for the mess he planned to make of Louis.

Louis went where he was pulled, Harry’s hands still cupped around his face. Louis chased Harry’s lips and let Harry unbutton that black button-up that was way too big on him, pushing it down his arms. He tried not to laugh when he saw Louis struggling to get the sleeves off, because they’d been rolled back so many times to allow Louis to use his hands.

“Looked so good in my clothes,” Harry growled, pushing the bathroom door open with his butt, “but you’re gonna look so much better in a few minutes, baby.”

Harry shut the bathroom door and slammed Louis up against it, and Louis gasped when Harry ended their chain of kisses to bite his neck. Harry ran his hands down Louis’ bare chest and tummy, and just below his belly button, Harry pressed down gently. Louis’ hips squirmed away, and he made a weird noise that could have been dislike and could have been confused intrigue, and Harry cupped Louis through his trousers, making Louis throw his head back against the door.

“Harry, please,” he panted roughly, voice raspy and needy. “I’ve been half-hard for hours, get me off.”

Instead of giving in, though, Harry backed up and raised an eyebrow, hand pressing on Louis’ bladder again before letting up. “Who makes you come, Louis?” He asked, and Louis bit his lip. Harry pulled on Louis’ hand, pulling him further into the bathroom, closer to the tub. “Answer me,” he said. “Who makes you come, Louis?”

Louis ducked his head. “You do,” he answered, the back of his neck burning.

Harry lifted up Louis’ chin, staring into his eyes. “Say that again,” he said, “and convince me, this time.”

“You make me come, Harry,” Louis said, his voice wavering, and Harry rewarded him, wrapping his arms around Louis and kissing him thoroughly.

“Now,” he said, backing away again. He pulled off his shirt, and Louis immediately moved to touch his chest, but Harry stopped him. “Who lets you come?”

Louis’ eyes were wide, and his pupils expanded even as his nostrils flared and answered, “You let me come, Harry.”

“Good boy,” Harry said, leaning forward and thrusting his tongue through Louis’ open mouth. It was dirty, and cheap – the kind of kiss only really seen in a bad porno – but Louis moaned into it, his arms sliding up Harry’s biceps and latching on fiercely.

Harry pushed Louis’ head up by his jaw and made quick work of sucking all over his neck, careful not to leave bruises for work. He bit all up and down Louis’ chest, toying with his nipples by pinching them as he kissed down Louis’ abs.

Up close and personal, with his hands and mouth all over it, Harry could see why Louis was having problems with his pants and shirt: Louis had gained a few pounds, and Harry wanted to bite the new extra bits. The problem, though, was that it was so evenly spread out, the new weight, that he couldn’t find one spot enough to claim, and with a possessive growl he’d never let come from his mouth, he vowed to wait and find a spot for his mouth to call home.

Harry sucked skin underneath Louis’ naval, and bit, and scraped his teeth, and every time Harry hit a certain spot, Louis gasped and tightened the hands Harry had in his hair. Louis’ mouth was opened when Harry looked up from where he’d sank slowly to his knees, but Louis didn’t say anything, and Harry unbuttoned and unzipped his pants with an evil grin. “Bet you really have to pee right now,” he said, stroking gently over the little spot beneath Louis’ belly button. Louis’ abs clenched and he bit his lip.

“Bet you want me to back off so you can go in the toilet, like a good, clean boy.”

Louis whimpered, and his eyes nearly burned holes into Harry’s. Harry just smiled and pressed his nose and mouth against the boxers covering Louis’ hardening cock, flattening his tongue and getting the fabric wet.

Harry really wanted to blow him, but he wanted to keep Louis from getting any harder, or they wouldn’t be able to aim. So he stood up and kissed Louis, pressing back until Louis got the hint and lifted a foot over the edge of the tub, and then the other. Harry paused to pull the phone from his pocket and tossed it onto the counter, and stepped out of his boots and socks.

With Harry dressed in nothing but his jeans, and Louis in nothing but boxers, Harry started the bath water, laughing when the cold tap hit Louis’ feet and he nearly slipped from jumping away from it. Even as he laughed, though, Harry pressed on, getting closer to Louis and grabbing his hair to keep him still while Harry pressed him against the wall of the shower and kissed him, biting at his lip and moaning at the way Louis eagerly chased it.

“Harry,” Louis groaned out when Harry scraped teeth at the pulse point behind an ear, “Harry, I’m – ah – I’m getting h-hard.”

Harry laughed against Louis’ skin. “I can see that,” he said, just to egg him on. Louis let his head thunk back against the wall, and Harry bent down to suck a nipple as he stroked a finger up the underside of Louis’ cock, tenting his boxers. Water was getting warm over their feet, and Harry gripped Louis’ hips hard to keep him pressed against the cool tile wall. “Bet you want me to make you come, don’t you? Then let you pee?” Louis nodded, his mouth open wide and panting.

“Change of plans,” Harry whispered against his ear, chuckling when Louis’ eyes snapped to his. “Want you to piss all over yourself. I want you to make yourself dirty, make a mess of your boxers right here, and when you do it, I want you to think about who’s making you all dirty. Who do you get dirty for, Louis?” He asked possessively, biting at Louis’ lip before letting go to let him answer.

“You,” Louis moaned. Harry wrapped his hand around Louis’ clothed dick. “I – I get d-dirty for – oh, fuck – for you, Harry.”

Harry hummed, Louis’ words sending jolt after jolt of arousal through his body. Palming his own cock, Harry bit Louis’ shoulder and asked, “Only me, Lou? Ever get this dirty for anyone else?” Louis shook his head rapidly. “No? Never pissed all over yourself like a child?”

“No,” Louis gritted out, voice cracking at his emphasis. His face was flushed, and his hands curled into balls at the shower wall, and Harry took a little bit of pity on him.

He said down on the edge of the tub, leaning forward, and nuzzled at Louis’ boxers again. “Watch,” Harry said, and waited until Louis looked down at him. “I want you to watch when you pee everywhere.” Louis whimpered, and Harry stroked his thighs. “Want me to get dirty, too?” He offered, and Louis’ breath shuddered.

It wasn’t necessarily a huge kink for Harry, but he liked getting dirty enough, and he certainly liked Louis’ body when he was in pleasure. “Want to make my face dirty, baby?”

Louis let out a single sob and nodded, fists banging once against the wall, and Harry leaned forward to kiss his hip. “Do it, baby,” he said, and pressed on Louis’ bladder. “Wet your boxers; make a mess.”

Harry palmed himself with his free hand and clenched his jaw as he watched Louis’ face. He looked torn, like he wanted to do it but just couldn’t, and Harry paused, rubbing his thigh. “You remember the safe word, right, baby?” He asked softly.

Louis shook his head no, and then blinked, eyes a little red-rimmed. “I – yeah, I know it. I don’t – need it.”

Harry nodded and rubbed Louis’ thighs. “Then do it, Louis,” he said, firmly. “I want you to do it. It’s just between us; nobody has to know.”

Louis let out another sob and then Harry saw it – a wet patch, steadily growing on Louis’ boxers. Quickly, he pressed his face into it, and Louis’ breath hitched a few times and Harry felt hands on the back of his head, keeping Harry’s face against the warm, wet boxers.

Louis’ cock was now perfectly outlined in his boxers, the wet material clinging to every bump and line, and Harry mouthed over it, ignoring the taste of Louis’ urine as he slid his hand up and down the inside of Louis’ thigh, now wet and hot with his piss. With his free hand, he palmed himself, and Louis’ abs clenched and his fingers tightened in Harry’s hair randomly.

“Harry,” Louis sobbed, his entire body flushed in the humiliation of what he was doing, and Harry pulled back only to pull the boxers under his balls, so he could see. He knew it was difficult to take a leak with an erection, but Louis was spurting suddenly in short streams, spraying everywhere, and he’d never seen anything like it; it was kind of fascinating, in a strange way.

Harry stood and moved close, grabbing Louis’ face and kissing him, feeling the tears on his cheeks, and said into his mouth, “Keep going, baby. I want you to make me dirty, and you can remember when you marked me as your territory, like a dog.”

Louis shuddered and his breath hitched before he moaned, and Harry held his shaft and squeezed just barely, straightening the stream so it hit Harry’s jeans. Harry groaned the warm, wet feeling unexpectedly appealing, and palmed himself again, his hand getting completely soaked. “Look at it, baby,” he reminded Louis’ pulling his torso away just enough to let Louis see. Louis was directly pissing on Harry’s cock, through his jeans.

“I’m almost – almost d-done,” Louis said, voice small and uncertain, and Harry unbuttoned and unzipped his own jeans, pulling them down quickly and getting a hand around himself.

“Keep going, baby,” he said, pulling at himself. “Get it all out, you’re doing so good; you must have had so much water today, didn’t you?” Louis nodded, his face screwed up in embarrassment, and Harry mouthed hotly over Louis’ skin. “It feels so hot, Louis; I can’t believe how hot this is, oh my God.” He wedged a thigh between Louis’, trying not to rub too harshly against Louis’ cock in his wet jeans, and Harry hummed when Louis shot another wild stream over his thigh and crotch.

Harry tugged at his own cock and kissed Louis, and when Louis’ eyebrows started clenching, grunting like he was trying to force something that wasn’t there, Harry sank down to his knees in the tub, completely soaking himself in the water, as he’d forgotten to turn the water off after Louis had started peeing. He corrected the faucet switch and stopped the water flow, and immediately started licking Louis’ cock, knowing it wouldn’t be long until either of them came.

Louis moaned and his hips jerked when Harry sank down about a third of the way onto Louis’ cock, and Harry grunted around him when he felt Louis’ hands in his hair. He bobbed up and down, stroking what wasn’t in his mouth with his pee-soaked hand, and Louis choked out a sob.

Harry moaned over Louis’ cock as he stroked his own, feeling himself starting to push the edge, and just when Louis’ voice broke on a small gasp, Harry tasted come in his mouth. He sucked at Louis’ cockhead as long as he could until he starting coming, himself, semen splashing over his wrist and into the water still in the tub.

Harry pulled off Louis’ cock and panted against Louis’ soiled thigh, making his face still dirtier, and it was absolutely disgusting, but it was somehow so hot that Harry had come from it.

“Good God, almighty,” he sighed and shifted to sit back on the edge of the tub, rather than hurt his knees.

Louis sank down into the water as well, shaking bodily as he let out a few weak sobs.

“Hey, hey,” Harry said, suddenly alarmed. “What’s wrong, Lou? Did you – did I do something wrong? Are you okay?”

Louis nodded, but let out an awful, hacking sob, and it made Harry really uncertain as to which question he was nodding to. He shifted and pulled Louis up onto his lap, careful not to brush either of their cocks, and wrapped his arms around Louis in an attempt to pull him back against his chest and keep him there. He shushed Louis encouragingly and scratched lightly at his scalp, rubbing a hand across Louis’ chest to keep him calm. “Babe, what’s wrong?” He asked, once Louis had calmed down significantly.

“I don’t – know,” Louis answered, bewildered as he stuttered breathing and then a tear ran down his face to accompany another gross-sounding sob. “I’m – just really – emotional right now,” he added, so Harry nodded and let it go, murmuring to him and rocking them slightly, the warm water in the tub slowly starting to drain because Harry’s drain had been hideously clogged for weeks.

“Come on, baby, wanna move?” He asked, but Louis shook his head, so Harry just accepted that, too, and started humming sweet songs he could think of until Louis was calm.

Eventually, once Louis had stopped crying and Harry was humming Faithfully by Journey – nearly positive Louis wouldn’t know it and feeling safe, because he didn’t want Louis knowing he was thinking those kinds of lyrics while holding him as he cried – Louis whined pitifully, and Harry took that as his cue to take them to bed.

He ignored the fact that they were dripping all over the floor and would probably slip eventually, but Harry managed to get Louis wrapped up in a towel before pushing him back onto the bed, ridding themselves of both their clothes and pulling the blanket over them to keep them warm.

Louis turned onto his side from his back, wiggling around until he could clearly see Harry, who moved closer and tangled their ankles together. “Wanna tell me what that was about?” He asked softly, and Louis shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he answered, looking still a little small for Harry’s liking but mostly a bit baffled, genuinely confused. “It’s like it just…came out of me, or something. I don’t know. I just needed to get it out.”

“Hmm,” Harry mumbled, and relaxed as he scooted even closer. “Well, are you feeling okay right now? How do you feel?”

“Better,” Louis answered, nodding. “You’re – you, uh…you helped, with the snuggling, and stuff.”

“I like snuggling with you,” Harry said simply, and left it at that with an easy smile.

---

“Mother of hell,” Louis whined out of nowhere, laying on the couch, a few days later.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked him, not looking away from the TV.

Louis just groaned, though, slowly letting his head drop back as he stretched his legs out on the couch, leaning up as he pressed his chest. “Just got the worst heartburn,” he mumbled. “It’s okay.”

“Another one?” Harry gave him a sympathetic frown and pulled him closer to his chest, arranging Louis to rest against him between his legs. Louis wiggled around, just to be a shit, and Harry made a noise of discontent. “Snuggle and watch bad TV with me, shit head,” he mumbled, and Louis got comfortable quickly, only reaching for the remote to turn it up as they ate.

Louis was still uncomfortable when Harry left to go busk with Niall, though, and Harry kept stopping between songs to check his phone, watching out for any indication that he should go back to his apartment, where Louis had been planning to take a nap. He was just pulling his phone from his pocket after an acoustic version of a Roxanne, and Niall clamped a hand down on his shoulder out of nowhere, making him jump and nearly toss his phone into the gutter.

“Jesus,” Harry complained when Niall just grinned at him. “Scared the shit outta me!”

Niall laughed, anyway, and Harry didn’t feel like he needed to force a smile to be polite. That was his favorite thing about Niall, probably: he never made Harry feel like a social pariah even though he’d probably always harbored a secret thought that Harry might’ve had a lobotomy at a very young age.

“What’s up, man?” Niall asked, a little uncharacteristically. He usually didn’t ask questions, preferring to let people ‘fess up when they needed to.

Harry shrugged, and then said, “Louis’ got heartburn.” Usually, he wouldn’t have said anything about Louis, preferring to keep his private business private, but in truth, Louis had been getting heartburns for days, and they kept coming back, and he’d told Harry, after the first one, that he’d never had heartburn before, and it was making Harry nervous.

“Okay?” Niall said now, eyebrows raised. When Harry didn’t elaborate, he asked, “That’s it?”

“Uh…yeah,” Harry said, plucking at chords on his guitar idly. Niall was looking at him expectantly, though, and Harry sighed. “It’s just, you know, he’s not been feeling well a lot, the past few days, so –”

“He’s literally got a life-sucking parasite growing inside of his man-uterus,” Niall interrupted, looking at Harry like he was an idiot. “Harry, man, he’s not going to feel like he’s getting head from Jesus Christ himself.” Niall automatically crossed himself and glanced up, apologetic, towards the sky, and Harry huffed, not wanting to press the issue anymore.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said, and patted his guitar for a minute. “The Deeper The Love?” He suggested, and Niall nodded gamely, so they tuned their guitars up and started playing again.

As Harry mindlessly sang the lyrics, nodding in thanks at people who dropped change into their cases, Harry decided two things: a)., Niall was completely right, and b)., Harry needed more information about pregnancy.

When Louis texted Harry a few hours later, asking when Harry thought he’d be home, Harry was already wrapping up, saying goodbye to Niall, and about to head home. Remembering his resolve to learn more about pregnancy, though, Harry buckled up and texted Louis back before starting his car.

Idk we’re doing ok tonight do you need anything??

Harry drove to a book store Gemma liked to visit when she came down to see him, parking the car and heading into it with his chin held high as he walked into the maternity section. He was completely floored at the amount of shelving there was in the area of the store, floor-to-ceiling and wall-to-wall book cases chock full of various books and a few movies and DVDs and audiobooks. Harry felt like he was drowning.

When Louis answered that he didn’t need anything, and was simply curious, Harry read it as the admission of loneliness that it was and caved a little, sending back, be done soon, need me to stop anywhere?

“Can I help you, sir?”

Harry whirled around and saw an elderly woman smiling at him, and though her eyes widened a fraction upon seeing his pierced face, she continued to smile pleasantly, and Harry nodded. Her name read ‘Maggie’. “Uh, yes,” he said, pasting on a painfully false smile because he needed help. “My boyfriend and I just found out he’s about a month pregnant,” he uttered, and she beamed, her smile stretching. “…And I have absolutely no knowledge about babies, or pregnancy, or, you know, what I could be doing to help him or looking out for or, like, for later, how to parent or adjust to, uh, parenting life? I don’t…” he sort of trailed off awkwardly, completely out of his depth as he broke eye contact with her and looked around at the different books.

Maggie smiled and grabbed Harry’s hand between her wrinkled, veiny, weathered ones, and patted the back of it. “Your boyfriend’s a very lucky man,” she said.

“Really? What makes you say that?” Harry asked, forcing a little laugh to keep from being awkward. Seriously, though; was this woman senile?

Maggie squeezed his hand with barely enough pressure to even register in his mind, and said, “Sweetheart, I’ve had nine children,” she began, only smiling when Harry’s jaw dropped, “all with my husband of forty-seven years. I was sixteen when I had my first baby, and he was nineteen – younger than you, I suspect – and there’s not a doubt in my old mind that he loves me more than anything on God’s green earth, but he never once looked for ways to help me out!”

Harry stood, a little uncomfortable with her admission, and nodded when she stared at him in appraisal.

“How squeamish are you?” She asked.

“I’m not,” he answered, and her eyes narrowed.

“How would you feel if I discussed menstruation with you in great detail, including the excruciating pain and the amount of blood involved, not to mention, the uterine walls literally leaking out of a small opening?”

Harry winced on the inside, but he wanted the best information and this felt like a test, so he just stared at her blankly looking supremely unimpressed with her until her eyes twinkled. She started walking through the aisles, leaving Harry to follow her for several minutes awkwardly, through rows and rows of books with names like Tightening Your Vagina: Kegel Exercises in 12 Easy Steps! and Tiger Stripes For Baby – Loving Your Stretch Marks next to each other. As they walked on, Harry slowing his stride to accommodate that of Maggie’s shorter steps, the books started featuring men, instead, with titles like Male Pregnancy: The Manly Way to Have a Baby and, Harry’s personal favorite, Kevin Has a Mangina, and at the end of the row, Maggie stopped.

She pulled a book from the shelf and showed it to Harry: a smaller-sized book, but thick as the average Harry Potter, this book cover showed two men dressed in white, standing and looking directly at the camera, one standing behind the other (pregnant) one, his hands around the pregnant belly tilted in a way that his thumbs and fingers made a heart, right over the pregnant one’s belly button. In bold font, it was titled Months of Changes, and Maggie placed it into Harry’s hands with a secretive smile.

“A friend of mine wrote it,” she said, her wrinkly face curving into a smile as she tapped the bottom of the cover, where Dr. George Shelley was written in soft, barely-there white letters. “And asked me to only give them to partners who came in, looking like you do.”

“How do you mean?” Harry asked, rubbing his hand over the book. Fuck, he hadn’t read a book in years, and this thing was enormous.

“Terrified,” Maggie said promptly, and smiled when Harry glared at her. “And determined. You look like you care about him, and making his pregnancy go smoother. That’s what he wanted.”

Harry nodded, looking down at the book, and hugged it to his chest. A second later, he was embarrassed of the gesture, and dropped it down to his side, but Maggie only smiled knowingly.

“I’ll ring you up, unless you want anything else?”

“No,” Harry said, clearing his throat. “No, uh, he’s waiting for me, actually. But, you know. I appreciate this.”

Maggie just nodded, still smiling, and ushered him back up towards the front. Harry paid her and turned to go, and when he was standing in the doorway, he pulled out his phone to text Louis and saw he’d said, No I’m good, just come home! Wanna fuck.

Harry swore and hurried back to his car, texting out, on the way home. Be naked.

Harry tried not to speed, but. Well. When he pulled up into his parking spot, he parked and turned the car off, bringing the book with him and simply hoping Louis wouldn’t find it. He didn’t always sleep at Harry’s place, but he rode in Harry’s car quite often.

When he opened the door to his apartment, Louis was nowhere to be seen, so Harry quickly stuffed the book under a couch cushion. He moved onward, checking the bedroom, only to find it empty. When he called Louis’ name, finally, he heard a groan that sounded pretty embarrassed and echoey.

“Go away,” Louis called from the bathroom, “you’re not putting your dick anywhere near me; you’ve done this to me.”

Harry couldn’t help it; he laughed.

“You mother fucker,” Louis called out with no heat behind it.

“We both know that’s not accurate,” Harry said as he walked up to the bathroom door, and knocked on it. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I can’t shit worth a – well.” Again, Harry laughed, resting his head against the door, and Louis swore at him again.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” Harry asked, sliding his hand against the door.

“No, gross, go away,” Louis said, and Harry thought he sounded a little embarrassed, so he sighed.

“Louis, we all know you take shits,” he pointed out. “I take them, too,” he added on, like it would be helpful even though he knew it wouldn’t.

“That is not the point,” Louis said loudly. Harry put a hand over his mouth. “The point is that I’m stinking up your bathroom and you don’t even have any smell-better spray like a normal fucking human being, so you’re gonna have to smell the shit I’m trying to take. Also, the point is that you put your dick in my ass and I really wanted you to fuck me tonight because I can’t even believe how horny I am right now, but you’re not venturing up this way, not after this disaster.”

Harry sighed, sympathetically looking down at his dick. He wanted to fuck Louis, too. “Wanna fuck me tonight, then?” He asked through the bathroom door.

Louis was quiet for a moment, and then he had giggles in his voice when he said, “You know, this is not the situation I envisioned when you finally asked me to top.”

Harry laughed with him and said, “Hey, I think propositioning you through a bathroom door while you’re taking a shit in my bathroom is extremely domestic.”

“We’re a real married couple,” Louis joked back, and Harry had to swallow because, well. Yeah.

He made himself laugh, though, so Louis didn’t worry, and tapped at the door again with his fingers. “Should I go prep myself while you finish up?” He asked.

“No,” Louis said, whining a little. “I like that part; let me. Just go…do something. I won’t be long.”

Harry sighed, but he went back to the living room and decided to start his book. He sat down on the couch, wiggling to get comfortable, and read the author’s note, which explained that Dr. Shelley never expected to fall in love with a man and that he’d been straight until he met the man who later became his husband, and even later, the father of his child. When George found out he was pregnant, he started writing things down every day and, since he was already in school to become a doctor, decided to go into male pregnancy, with it being a more rare field occupancy due to the low rate of male pregnancy.

Now, years later, with several degrees, three children, and years of practicing experience, Dr. Shelley published the book both as a mix of a detailed description of everything happening in the male’s body while he is pregnant and his own stories and how his husband interacted with him as a pregnant man.

He was on the third page of the first chapter when he heard the toilet flush, so he hurriedly dog-eared the page and shoved it back under the couch cushion. He heard the bathroom door open and then click shut and, as he unbuttoned his jeans, he giggled to himself because they usually left the bathroom door open; Louis must really be embarrassed about making his bathroom stink.

He pulled his underwear down to his thighs and started stroking his cock with his fingertips, thinking about what was going to happen, and just as Louis entered the room, Harry hissed as his hips jumped even though he wasn’t hard yet.

“Harry, what are y- good Lord.”

Harry saw Louis’ shadow pass over him and then Louis was straddling his upper thighs, rubbing his hands under Harry’s shirt, touching his skin. Harry smiled and squirmed up, welcoming the weight Louis gave, and looked up into his eyes.

“Like what you see?” He asked, and Louis nodded.

“Love it,” he said, licking his lips. “I really want you to ride me.”

Harry shook his head no, though, and Louis whined. “Don’t wanna squish the baby,” he reasoned, and Louis huffed.

“It won’t hurt the baby so early, Harry,” he wheedled, but Harry sat up and kissed Louis’ mouth.

“I want you to fuck me on my back, so you can see what your dick does to me.” Louis shivered, then, and Harry patted Louis’ hips to urge him to move, so they could move it to the bedroom.

Harry stripped off his boxers and led Louis by the hand into his room, humming when Louis kissed the back of his neck. He laid down on his back, waiting while Louis pulled off his jeans.

Louis crawled up the bed and straddled him, leaning over quickly to kiss him thoroughly while sneaking his hands up under Harry’s shirt. Harry hummed into the sensations of both, and Louis laughed into his mouth.

Harry could only take so much, though: it’d been a long time since he’d been fucked, and he was eager, now that it was an option. He ended the kiss and, humming when Louis simply latched onto his neck instead, reached for the lube, feeling himself harden against Louis’ ass where it was grinding.

“Good thing I can’t get you pregnant,” Louis joked into Harry’s neck once Harry passed him the lube.

Harry answered with a chuckle. “But wouldn’t that be an interesting turn of events.”

Louis smacked his chest lightly, and then shimmied down Harry’s naked body. Harry watched, squirming as Louis palmed himself briefly and then squirted lube onto his fingers, pushing Harry’s legs up and out with his elbow and free hand.

“Come on,” Harry urged, circling his hips minutely. “Don’t have all day.”

“Shut up,” Louis said fondly, and sucked on the vein on the underside of Harry’s cock. Harry hummed, resting his head back and closing his eyes, and felt Louis’ lube-covered fingertip run over his hole. Louis played with Harry’s hole for a few minutes, like he was trying to get Harry used to the feeling of something being there, and Harry bit his lip to keep from thanking him verbally and making it awkward.

“How long’s it been?” Louis asked just as he finally pressed his fingertip in.

“Few years,” Harry admitted, hands running over his soft sheets as he waited for the feeling to stop being weird and start being good.

Louis wiggled his fingertip inside of him, not deep enough to do anything but make Harry aware of its presence, and Harry huffed. “Louis, come on,” he said bossily, and Louis complied after only a few seconds, pushing in slowly.

Harry hummed as Louis got in down to the knuckle where his finger met the rest of his hand, and Louis kissed his inner thigh. After a few minutes of feeling Louis’ finger inside of him, thrusting and pressing against his walls like he was trying to warm them up to be stretched out, though, Harry flexed and curled his toes, ready for more.

Louis seemed to read the movement correctly, because he pulled his finger out, drizzled more lube onto his index and, now, his middle finger, and Harry sighed when he felt two fingertips against his hole, waiting for Harry’s go-ahead.

He tried to relax, irritatingly nervous: since he got away from Max and his friends, only James and, once, Zayn had fucked him.

“I’ve got you,” Louis urged, and Harry let out a sharp breath and nodded, keeping his need to relax in the forefront of his brain.

It was a strange feeling, after all this time, but Harry angled his hips down toward he mattress and let himself enjoy the feeling of Louis pressing against him. Louis breathed out a quiet, “Fuck,” and Harry’s cock twitched against his stomach.

“Like knowing you’re driving me crazy?” Louis asked, and Harry smiled, though his eyes were still closed and he was still facing the ceiling. Maybe Louis saw it, though, because he added, “Can’t wait to get my cock in here, you’re so tight around just two fingers.”

Harry lay quietly while Louis fucked into him with two fingers, staying away from Harry’s prostate to get him used to the feeling. Once he was stretched out and feeling needy, though, Harry bit his lip and tried to sneakily angle his hips so that Louis’ fingers would brush against it, and his breathing hitched when it was successful.

“Want more?” Louis asked, already pulling his fingers out to slick his fingers up with more lube. Harry nodded and smiled peacefully when he felt three fingertips pushing into him.

This time, though, Louis immediately pressed straight against his prostate and Harry gasped in, breathing out in a quiet moan. “Hurry up,” he whined, breath hitching when Louis slipped his finger in even faster, keeping his middle finger curved so that each time his fingers went in far enough, it was pressed against his prostate by default.

Harry’s cock was full and hard and hurting, and Harry gave in, letting go of the sheets to wrap his hand around his cock and stroke. “If you don’t hurry up, I’m gonna come,” he told Louis, finally opening his eyes and looking down grumpily at him.

“I’ll take care of you,” Louis said, smirking as he looked Harry’s body up and down. “Shit, you’re so red,” he said, running his free hand up Harry’s chest, where his skin was, indeed, red against the darkness of his tattoos scattered all over his chest.

Harry sat up on his elbows when Louis pulled away to get his shirt, socks, and boxers off, pouring an ungodly amount of lube onto his cock. He scooted forward on his knees, then, and pulled Harry’s legs up by the back of his knees to rest over his elbow, only letting go of Harry’s left leg long enough to guide his cock to press against Harry’s hole. “Ready?” He asked, looking up at Harry.

Harry nodded, licking his lips. Louis looked impossibly strong, like this, muscles hidden within his slighter frame and sweat making his hair darker, where it stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck. His eyes were dark with lust, and the shirt he’d just removed showed the tiny bit of weight he’d gained, though Harry could still see the same faintly-outlined abdominal muscles he always could.

Harry’s mouth dropped open when Louis pushed in, and the breath he’d been holding escaped him swiftly. “Oh my god,” he said, dropping back down onto the mattress, flat on his back.

“Okay?” Louis checked, and Harry nodded, lifting his hips to urge Louis to keep going.

Louis did, but untucked his arms from under Harry’s knees to chase him back down, bracing himself over Harry’s form and kissing him. He held his position for a while, letting Harry adjust by only barely shifting his hips, and it felt incredible for Harry, who swallowed compulsively and wrapped his arms around Louis’ back.

“Fuck,” Harry muttered, opening his eyes toward the ceiling.

Louis crowded his vision, then, leaning up and kissing him slowly, like he wanted Harry to focus on his mouth, rather than his cock. Harry squeezed Louis’ shoulders in his left hand, his right roaming all over Louis’ back, and when he was ready, he hummed as Louis sucked on his tongue lightly and pressed his heels into Louis’ thighs.

Louis tucked his head against Harry’s shoulder and pulled out, thrusting back in slowly to make Harry inhale deeply. “Harder,” he mumbled, and Louis pulled out again, thrusting in fast enough that Harry was scooted up the bed.

He let go of Louis’ shoulder and reached up as high as he could on the bed, knowing once he didn’t touch the headboard that he’d be okay. Louis thrust into him again, and Harry wrapped his arm back down around Louis’ waist, rolling his hips in an attempt to get Louis to hit his prostate.

Louis did, then, and Harry moaned loudly in his ear. He hit it again and again, his pace speeding up faster and faster as he pushed himself up onto his knees, towering over Harry and watching his cock disappear into Harry.

“Watch me,” Harry said, squeezing his legs tighter around Louis’, and when Louis looked up at his face, Harry bit his lip because he wasn’t expecting it to be so hot, being stared at while he was fucked so vigorously.

“Oh,” Harry moaned out, pulling his hair with one hand and twisting his other into the fabric of the sheets, rolling his hips so fast he was probably throwing Louis off his pace. Louis didn’t protest, though, only gripped his hips to keep them still as he pumped in and out of him quickly.

“Oh, my god,” Harry groaned quietly, feeling heat stirring up in the pit of his stomach. He grabbed his cock and started stroking it, thumbing at the head when he heard Louis swear.

“Are you close?” Louis asked, and angled his hips to hit Harry’s prostate with every single thrust.

“Fuck,” Harry breathed, his voice getting a little higher-pitched as he stroked his cock faster and faster. “Yeah, yeah, don’t stop,” he said, arching his back when Louis muttered something under his breath and started fucking into him even harder.

Harry’s mouth dropped open and he nearly ripped the sheets off the bed and the hair from his scalp when he came, muscles locking up. Louis’ cock inside him seemed to grow ten times bigger as he clenched around him, and Louis doubled over, continuing to thrust only a few more times until he stilled his hips, deep inside Harry. Harry came onto his stomach, cock twitching under his hand as he felt Louis coming inside him.

“Shit,” Louis swore, mouthing distractedly at Harry’s collarbone tattoo.

“Mmm,” Harry answered, feeling useless and foggy. Someone could come at him with a chainsaw and he’d probably not even find the strength to be scared, much less get up and move. His eyelids drooped as Louis pulled out of him, and he was aware, in the back of his mind, that Louis left to go get a rag, but he wasn’t really thinking of it. He felt Louis clean him up and toss the rag off to the side of the bed, and he felt Louis kiss his lips, but he felt almost drugged and foggy and tired.

“You okay, babe?” He heard Louis ask. He felt Louis’ hand on his face, thumb stroking his cheek, and he made his head loll to the side in order to look up at Louis, but he couldn’t do anything more than hum contentedly. “Need anything?” Louis asked, then, and Harry hummed again, closing his eyes.

Louis hesitated, but eventually wrapped himself around Harry, being the big spoon, and Harry was asleep within minutes.

---

When Harry woke up, he was alone and his back, ass, and lower abs were sore in a way a no workout would target. The night came flooding back to him, and when he realized he couldn’t remember anything after Louis coming, he grinned, self-satisfied. It’d been a long time since he’d been fucked, and an even longer time since he’d been fucked so well.

He rolled over and swiped his phone silent, and when he felt a crinkle on the side of his face, he frowned.

Louis had left a Post-It note stuck to his face. Call/text me when you wake up! -Lou, it read in Louis’ ridiculously neat handwriting.

Harry smiled and tossed the note to the side, stumbling into the bathroom and groaning when he felt how disgusting he was – because his boyfriend had come inside him. Though it was hot during sex, it certainly was not hot afterwards unless it was immediately cleaned up, but Harry’d had hours and hours for it to dry and get disgusting and filthy.

Once Harry was clean and dressed and headed out the door, he pulled out his phone and dialed Louis’ number.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Louis answered.

“You said to call you when I woke up,” Harry said. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s great,” Louis said, and then murmured something to someone on his side of the phone. “I just wanted to check on you. You were, like, completely out of it last night. Just out like a freaking log; I had to plug your phone up for you.”

Harry smiled as he started his car, feeling like an idiot. It was normal for boyfriends to be concerned; Harry shouldn’t be so elated from this. “Uh, yeah, I’m good,” he said, laughing a little awkwardly. “I probably should have, you know…mentioned that I get kind of – out of it, I guess. And, you know, it’s been a while…and you were, like, really, uh, good. At that.”

Louis laughed, too loud and straight into Harry’s eardrum, sounding pleased to be complimented on his sexual prowess. “Good to know you enjoyed yourself. I was a little nervous, at first,” he admitted.

“Nope,” Harry answered. “All good. Listen, I have to go, or I’ll be late, but – you’ll be at the show tonight, right?”

“’Course, don’t be silly,” Louis said. “See you tonight. Have a good day!.”

“You, too,” Harry said, and then hung up, buckling his seat belt, and headed into work.

---

When Harry saw Louis walking into the bar, he grabbed a glass and filled it with a few ice cubes and sweet tea, adding a lime straight into the drink, the way he usually ordered it if he could. He had it in his hand by the time Louis came up to the bar, and gave him a wink in substitute for the usual kiss.

“Hey, Harry,” Louis chirped. He looked a little tired; maybe Harry was having too much late-night sex with him.

“Hi,” he answered, and promptly turned away when a girl walked up to the bar, looking for service.

He made up her long island iced tea and passed it over to her once she showed him her ID, writing down her name and order on a pad next to his station before he could give Louis more attention.

“Ready for the show?” Louis asked, smiling as he loosened up his tie.

“Always,” Harry replied with a twitch of his own lips. He sighed a little when he saw a man standing, raising his hand like he was in a classroom still. “Hold on,” he told Louis, and then moved to the man.

“What can I get you?” Harry asked with the fake smile he was getting a little used to, by now.

The man blinked as he looked Harry up and down, and then grinned a little predatorily. “You can give me your number,” he said, overconfident, and Harry fought to roll his eyes.

“I don’t give my number to people taking drinks from me,” he said diplomatically, but the guy only shrugged.

“I’ll buy my drinks from that guy,” he offered, nodding his head towards Ed, and Harry smiled, a little amused, and shook his head.

“Sorry, man,” he said, grinning, “but I really don’t give my number to people getting drinks from other people.”

“So, I have to be sober to get your number?” He asked, a little less interested.

“You have to be me to get his number,” said a familiar – if slightly-irritated – voice from further down the bar. Harry barely heard him, but the man seemed to easily, because he looked over at Louis and sneered.

“You’re with this twink?” He asked, turning back to Harry and jerking his chin towards Louis, and before Harry could even nod, Louis answered for him.

“The state of New York allows bartenders reserve the right to refuse service to anyone,” he bit out. “And yes, he’s with me, and has been for a while, so back up.”

The man looked from Louis to a (very annoyed) Harry for confirmation, and schooled his expression when Harry nodded. “Oh. Sorry, man,” he said, slapping a fist down onto the bar in what seemed like an apologetic fashion. “I’ll get a tequila sunrise, then.”

“Sure thing,” Harry said, trying to keep the mild irritation he was feeling at bay. He poured the drink, pausing only once to check the cheat sheet for a measurement, and wrote down the man’s name – Matt – after carding him and nodded in response to his goodbye-wave.

“Wow, that was annoying,” Louis said after a moment, and Harry scowled at him. “What?”

“Louis, this is my job,” he said lowly, not wanting to cause a scene.

“And I’m your boyfriend,” Louis answered obliviously.

Harry’s nostrils flared in annoyance, and he ran a hand through his hair before he took a deep breath. “We’ll talk about it later,” he said, and promptly moved to another side of the bar to take orders from some of the people on Ed’s side. Ed didn’t complain, never did, so Harry did his best to be charming and rack up tips that he’d inevitably give to Ed, anyway.

Louis sat in the same stool of the bar until Harry clocked out. He slid off his seat and tried to talk to Harry when he walked by, on his way to help Niall and Josh unload, but Harry walked right by him, too annoyed and knowing it’d cause a scene if they started arguing.

The set-up took a little longer than usual, mostly down to Harry’s shaking fingers. Louis sat in his usual seat, though neither Liam nor Zayn had come with him, so he nursed his sweet tea and watched Harry with big eyes, like he had no idea what he’d done to deserve Harry being short with him.

“Hello, Otto Bar,” he said into his mic eventually, a few minutes late. “We’re The Masochists, and we’re gonna be playing some songs for you. Hope you don’t mind. Here’s some Joan Jett, because everyone needs some Joan.”

It was pretty boring, as compared with his typical introductions, and Harry knew Louis picked up on it. They played I Love Rock’n’Roll, followed by A-Ha’s Take On Me, which wasn’t really like anything they’d done, but Niall nailed most of the vocals, so Harry was more than happy to play and take over the falsettos Niall couldn’t hit.

Harry had realized, earlier in the week as he tattooed a crown onto the back of a woman’s neck, that they hadn’t played any Queen, so they played Another One Bites the Dust for some feel-good music most of the people were familiar with, followed by Dude (Looks Like A Lady) by Aerosmith, during which Harry groped himself, lifted his shirt, ran fingers through his long hair, and screamed as he thrust his hips a few times.

Next, they moved onto a breathy and seductive version of I Hate Myself For Loving You, because Joan Jett was one of Harry’s favorite women ever. The Clash’s Should I Stay, Or Should I Go? was next, and Bob Seger’s Old Time Rock’n’Roll.

Harry got way into Heartbreaker by Pat Benetar, next was Fool For Your Loving by Whitesnake, and Hot Blooded by Foreigner just made him downright slutty.

By the time he was saying goodbye to the patrons in the bar, Harry felt much less irate with Louis, who had, despite his confusion and possibly hurt (Harry wasn’t sure; he couldn’t read Louis quite as well as he wished), cheered the loudest for Harry and the band after every song, smiled at him every time they happened to make eye contact, and looked proud as hell once Harry took the final bow.

So, once Harry was done packing up and bowed out of spending some more guy time with Niall, Harry headed over to Louis. When Louis stood and smiled at him, a little uncertainly, Harry let their fingers slide together and led him from the bar. Louis had driven, this time, so Harry got into the passenger seat and sat quietly.

They turned into Harry’s run-down apartment complex and took the elevator up, neither saying a word but holding hands, and Harry thought maybe it was good that at least they could hold hands despite having nothing to say, sometimes. But as soon as Harry and Louis walked through the door, Louis slammed it and leaned up against it.

“Alright,” he said, “what’d I do?”

Harry sighed, but Louis didn’t look like he’d put the conversation off to get a drink, so he sat down on the arm of the couch and folded his arms, watching his boyfriend. “Lou, possessiveness really irritates me,” he said, and Louis crossed his own arms defensively.

“That wasn’t even being possessive,” he replied. “That douche wasn’t leaving you alone!”

“I appreciate the gesture, I really do, but I can take care of myself,” Harry answered, trying to stay calm, but Louis scoffed for some unknown reason, and Harry got pissed off. “I’ve done it before, Louis,” he added harshly, and Louis’ face paled a little.

He took a step forward after a minute. “Harry, that’s not what I was trying to imply,” he said, sounding apologetic.

Harry held fast, though, wanting to make a lasting impression. “Well, that’s how it came across,” he said. “And what’s worse, I was at work! That happens all the time, Louis. I flirt to make money; you can’t come in and show people who’s boss, or whatever you were trying to do.”

“I wasn’t!” Louis protested, his hands out to stop Harry’s words. “I wasn’t doing that at all! I was just letting him know –”

“Louis, it doesn’t matter what they know!” Harry interrupted, standing up. “It doesn’t matter what they know. Isn’t it enough that I know?”

“Of course, it is, Harry!” Louis said, frustrated. “But guys get pushy, sometimes, and I –”

“Louis, I’ve faced a lot of pushy guys,” Harry said grimly, and Louis shut his mouth with a click and grinded his teeth, “and I don’t just mean when I was a kid. I can take care of myself.”

“Fine,” Louis muttered, looking down at his feet. “I get it.”

“Do you?” Harry asked, not caring that he was only pissing Louis off.

“Yes, Harry, I get it,” he said louder, looking up and staring at him. They stayed quiet for a few minutes until Louis sighed, seeming to deflate a little, and reached for the doorknob. “I’m gonna stay at my place tonight,” he said, and Harry didn’t answer, even though panic immediately started spreading through his stomach. “I’ll text you when I get home safe.”

And with that, Harry was left alone, the sound of footsteps fading down the hall of his shitty complex, feeling like an idiot and an asshole.

---

Louis did text Harry when he got home that night, a simple home, night on Harry’s screen.

Since then, though, Harry hadn’t really heard from him. Saturday, Harry texted Louis good morning, like he usually did, receiving only a have a good one text back, and he hadn’t stopped by the shop to see Harry for lunch. On Sunday, Harry was off, and he texted Louis twice during the day to see if he wanted to make plans, but Louis didn’t answer, so Harry sat around, trying to work on the new song for The Masochists, and work on the set list for the next Friday. He couldn’t get ahold of Louis, and he hadn’t thought twice about Louis always staying at his place, because it was closer to all their jobs and both Harry’s friends and only a few minutes further from Liam’s, according to Louis. Once again, Harry was in the exact same place as he was a few weeks ago, when he found out he had a baby on the way, and he felt helpless to do anything.

On Monday morning, though, when Harry still hadn’t heard from Louis, he started to get pissed off.

He nearly messed up a widow’s cancer-related tribute to her late husband, saving it only by thickening the outline. She ended up loving the tattoo, but Harry took a long lunch break, spending it ignoring Zayn and swearing mentally at both himself and Louis.

“What’s been up with you, lately?” Zayn asked quietly. “Is it the baby stuff?”

Harry sighed and took a vicious bite from his chicken, glaring at Jade’s back for no reason. “Nothing,” he lied, but Zayn saw through it so well that he didn’t even deign to call him on it. When Harry glanced over at him, Zayn was staring at him with an unimpressed face but concerned eyes that said, Tell me, bro.

“I don’t know where Louis is,” he admitted, tearing at his fries on the plate.

“He’s probably at work,” Zayn said slowly, like Harry’d lost his mind.

“No, I mean – I know that, but. I don’t know where he works. I don’t know where he lives. If he doesn’t answer his phone, I don’t know how to get ahold of him. And even if Liam knew anything, he wouldn’t tell me –”

“Whoa, whoa, Harry,” Zayn interrupted and grabbed Harry’s hands to still his fingers from ripping apart the rest of his fries. “Are you saying Louis’ gone AWOL again?” Harry nodded a little reluctantly, and Zayn swore. “He’s a fucking flight risk, isn’t he?” When Harry didn’t answer or agree, Zayn softened his tone in a way he hadn’t in years. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. Wanna talk about what happened?”

“Not really,” Harry said, knowing he already would.

“I think we should,” Zayn pressed gently, just like Harry knew he would.

He sighed, and Zayn prompted Jade over for some more fries to share, and Harry got to talking, explaining Louis’ possessive behavior, the fight, and Louis leaving, all while they stuffed their faces and ignored texts from Zayn’s uncle to get back to work. Zayn was quiet during Harry’s speech, eyebrows furrowing as Harry got quieter and quieter.

“I just don’t like that,” he explained, referring to Louis’ possessiveness. “It’s like – I don’t know, like he thinks he owns me, or something. But as soon as I call him on it, he just up and leaves, like suddenly he doesn’t own me. I don’t get it, like. I don’t even know which I hate more: feeling owned, or feeling abandoned. Not that I’m some needy little girl,” he rushed out, but Zayn interrupted him then.

“First off, there’s nothing wrong with being a girl,” he said, giving Harry a stern look so reminiscent of Gemma when she was on her feminist kicks, and Harry felt properly chastised because he usually vaguely agreed with her feminist-related opinions, though he had no desire to go out and fight the good fight. “Second,” Zayn continued, “I don’t think it’d be right if Louis felt either way. He doesn’t own you, no, but from my point of view, I don’t think he really thinks that. I genuinely think he was just trying to get him to back off. I know you don’t need help,” he said, holding his hand up when Harry tried to cut in, “but Louis’ a big brother, right?” When Harry nodded, Zayn did, and explained, “You’re not a big brother, Harry, but me and Louis are. And we’ve fended people off of our little sisters plenty of time – not to mention, I’ve done it for you, too, because you’re my little brother. It’s probably just practice, and he’s probably protective of you.”

“But I don’t need it,” Harry retorted angrily. “I’m a grown man, for god’s sake! I don’t need someone to look out for me! And especially when that’s how I make money!”

“You really think Louis knows the first thing about what it’s like to be a bartender, Harry?” Zayn asked. “He’s a white-collar headhunter, straight out of an Ivy League school where he had a nice, hefty GPA and minimal loan debt. You’d know better than I do what he’s used to, but I can tell you there’s no doubt in my mind he has no idea how exactly you earn tips at the bar. So when someone hits on his boyfriend and he doesn’t back off even after his boyfriend rejects him a few times, he’s gonna step in. Say what you want, Harry, but I doubt he was trying to stake a claim, like you think.”

Harry was quiet for a few minutes, processing Zayn’s words and trying to apply them to the scenario in his head. When he finally accepted it, he asked, “But just leaving me?”

At this, Zayn sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “You know him better than I do. But maybe he just doesn’t like confrontation, or maybe he’s embarrassed. I think you need to talk to him, but I don’t know how to get ahold of him other than his phone, either. All I can say is that you guys need to talk, and soon.”

---

When Harry got home that night from the bar, Louis was sitting on the floor next to his apartment door, and Harry stopped in his tracks. “You’re here,” he said stupidly, and Louis looked up from his shoes.

He stood up quickly, dusting his pants off, and looked into Harry’s eyes with a regretful expression. “Harry, I’m sorry –”

“I’ve been calling you,” Harry interrupted. “And texting, since Friday night. You never answered.”

“I know, and I’m so-”

“Take me to your house,” Harry blurted out.

“What?” Louis asked.

“And to where you work,” Harry continued. When Louis simply stood still and didn’t move, Harry stepped closer. “You’ve disappeared way too many times already, and I’m sick of it. I’m not saying I’m going to suddenly be everywhere you are all the time, but I have to know how to find you in case something happens, especially since you have a tendency to run off the second things get difficult.”

Louis’ face screwed up, but he took a deep breath and a step back, away from Harry, which wasn’t what Harry wanted. He was quiet for a moment, and it allowed Harry to get a good look at him. He looked a little tired, and a little bloated, but he also looked sad, and Harry wanted to hug him.

“Are you alright?” He finally asked, when he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Are you okay?”

Louis nodded, and Harry took a deep breath of relief. “It’s just – can you hug me, please?” Louis asked. “I know you’re mad at me, but I really just want a hug, right now.”

Harry nodded, eyes wide, and took a few steps forward to pull Louis into his chest. He wrapped his arms around Louis entirely, buried his face in Louis’ hair, and swayed gently on the spot, his big hands rubbing up and down Louis’ back gently.

“I’m sorry I left,” Louis mumbled against Harry’s collar. “I know it’s a bad habit; I’ll stop, okay? I promise.”

Harry nodded, like everything was okay – not because it was, but because it would be.

---

“So, it’s the fourth floor,” Louis said, pressing the correct button in the elevator.

Harry had followed Louis in his own car, not sure if he wanted to spend the night with Louis. They had gone straight to Louis’ work, because it was closer – a tall building on Kensington Avenue Harry passed whenever he went truly uptown, where it was nicer and everything was a little cleaner. Louis hadn’t taken him up to his office, because at nine p.m., the business building was shut down and it’d look really weird for Louis, who was an exactly eight-to-four worker, to be in his office five hours past his regular time.

Instead, he told Harry how to get to his office, insisting that if he could remember Taylor Hall, he could ask around and people would gladly help him find his way to Louis’ office or find Jesy, his assistant.

He then got back into his car and took Harry all the way to his apartment, which – Harry realized why Louis spent so much time at his instead. It was so much farther from his work.

As they sat in the quiet elevator, waiting for it to move up to the fourth floor, Harry asked, “Why’d you pick a spot so far from your job?”

“Oh. Well, I wasn’t working at Lucas Group at the time,” Louis answered mildly. “I lived here with my ex, actually, while I went to school and he worked up in Harlem as an art historian. I was at Columbia University, and he worked around Riverside or St. Nick Avie, so it wasn’t a big deal to drive me to and from.” Louis shrugged as the elevator dinged open, and he led the way down the hall, where Harry vaguely remembered pressing Louis against walls and the door, one of their first nights together.

“This is me,” he said, opening up the door of 428, and as Harry stepped in, he was surprised.

The place was spotless; not at all what Harry had expected from Louis. Nearly everything was nice and white, everything in its place and content staying there. The living room was pretty big and furnished for a large group of people to fit comfortably with their own personal space, and next to it, the kitchen/dining area was clean and decked out in stainless steel appliances, the large dinner table glass and contemporary-looking. Louis let Harry walk around, touching absolutely everything, and when he went down the hall, he saw there were three bedrooms.

One was very obviously Louis’, a bathroom attached and one of the walls painted a dark blue with five very thin horizontal stripes of white, the other walls just barely off-white so it didn’t feel so hostpital-y. The bed was a little mussed up, and there were a few clothes and used tissues lying on the ground, which Louis picked up, sheepish look on his face, as soon as he entered the room behind him. The TV was still on, but its volume was down low, like Louis wanted the company but didn’t want the noise (and also didn’t care about running his electric bill up), and the bathroom attached to it was a little messy, as well, finally showing signs of life in it.

The next bedroom down the hall was painted gray and plum, its furniture matching and contemporary, but it was completely spotless. The bedroom further down was similar, though painted and furnished a teal-ish blue and electric lime green, done in stripes that could easily hold boys or girls and still fit, like the purple and gray. Also, this one was spotless, and Harry looked to Louis, who had been following him silently, wondering why a single twenty-six-year-old needed a three-bedroom suite.

“So, me and Stan lived here together, right?” He started, and waited until Harry nodded. “Right. Uhm, and when I started travelling, he started cheating on me, and I caught him when I came home with news that I’d be going on to Lucas Group, living here permanently, and it was pretty awesome. Uh, but. Yeah. So, I caught him and his girlfriend at it, and it was a big thing, but also, like – not, really? Like, I was upset, but it wasn’t really…earth-shattering; we’d grown apart a lot over the months of me being gone all the time, so while it hurt to catch someone I’d spend…what, two years, on a relationship with, it didn’t really break my heart. I think we’d both gotten over it, a little bit, and Stan was already planning to break up with me and move out, apparently, and since I had the money to keep the place on my own, I just did, because I didn’t want to go apartment-hunting, and this place is…really nice, obviously.”

“Why the extra bedrooms?” Harry finally asked, and Louis blinked.

“That’s – oh, my sisters come visit, sometimes, in the summer and spring breaks, and stuff. Just the oldest two; the sets of twins have always been too young. The older twins might come, this summer, actually; Mom’s been hinting that I’ll need to organize space a little better. Whatever.”

“That’s…Lottie and Felicite?” Harry asked, feeling immaturely proud when Louis nodded with a smile.

“And Daisy and Phoebe are the older twins,” he added.

Harry sat down on the clean, white couch – leather, very nice – and sighed. “Why do you keep leaving?” He asked finally, the elephant in the room.

“It’s just habit,” Louis admitted, sitting down in the arm chair facing him. “Like, it’s sort of what my dad does, and what he taught me to do. If you get upset, walk away so you don’t fight and say something too stupid. And I was, like, really pissed off that night, but I know you’re big on communicating and talking, and shit, and I really didn’t want to do it.”

“But that’s how I have to do things, Louis,” Harry said slowly. “You can’t just, like, not, just because it’s unpleasant. We’re having a baby, Louis, we have to have these things figured out, or we’re gonna wreck this kid.”

Louis sighed and rested a hand on his barely-there tummy. “I know,” he said quietly. “I just didn’t want to have to explain why I wanted to crush my glass over the back of that man’s head.”

Harry snorted at the dramatics, but Louis didn’t say anything, and looked quite serious. “Wait,” he said. “What?”

Louis sighed, looking a little ashamed of himself. “I think it’s kind of the hormones?” He guessed, sounding unsure of himself. “Like, at least a little bit of it is hormones. But, uh. Also, I’m just really protective. And I didn’t realize that you…flirt for tips. I just thought you got tips ‘cause you’re a good bartender. But, you know, you rejected him, like, a million times, and he just wasn’t backing off! Like, I totally get that you’re a big boy, and you can handle yourself, and all –”

“Louis,” Harry interrupted. Louis immediately shut his mouth, like he’d been dying for a reason to, and Harry scooted closer towards the chair. “First off, I don’t flirt back with them, I just don’t reply disrespectfully, and there’s a difference. I have a boyfriend and a kid on the way, you know? I’m not about risking that for a few extra dollars. Second, I appreciate you looking out for me, but – I don’t know, I’ve never had a possessive person before, and it’s weird and I don’t think I like it. It makes me feel like you think you own me, but then when I called you on it you dropped it and just walked off.”

“I don’t think I own you at all!” Louis protested, looking upset at the idea. “I don’t own you and I’d never want to – I just…didn’t want someone else all over you. I’m sorry. But I didn’t just, like, walk off. Like, I was always going to come back once I had a chance to clear my head a little bit.”

“You have to tell me those things, Louis,” Harry said quietly, like he was getting all the sad and worry he’d been feeling over the weekend out of his system. “It’s fine if you need space – I mean, we’re used to being alone and all of a sudden we’re practically living together and expecting a kid. I’m fine if you need your space for a few days, but you have to tell me if you want this to work. You can’t just disappear.”

Louis took a deep breath, but nodded, and he got up from the chair. He walked over to stand in front of Harry, tugging at the hem of his shirt a little uncertainly, and Harry stared up at him before he sat back and patted his lap invitingly, finally understanding what Louis wanted.

Louis crawled into his lap, knees next to Harry’s hips, and wrapped his arms around Harry’s sides, his head against Harry’s shoulder. “’M sorry,” he whispered, and Harry wrapped his arms just enough to rub his hands up and down Louis’ back.

“I forgive you,” Harry answered, and nuzzled into Louis’ hair, because he finally felt secure in their relationship after what felt like the longest weekend in history, second only to the first one Louis had disappeared over. “No more, though, okay? Come to me, if you have problems. Teamwork, and all.”

“Promise,” Louis answered.

---

“You’re seriously missing so much amazing music by sticking to a single decade.”

Louis was sitting on Harry’s desk, and had waited until the customer slid a tip into Harry’s hand a little awkwardly after thanking him again and leaving. Harry looked up from his drawer, where he put the tips for the day, his brow furrowed as he regarded Louis. “What?” He asked, and Louis smiled like he’d been dying for Harry to ask.

He hopped off the desk and wrapped his hands around Harry’s waist, fingers pushing up under Harry’s shirt sneakily. “You’re a great performer,” he began reassuringly, as if Harry would start doubting his talent if he said anything against it. “I just think you’d have so much fun if you did, like, a tribute show of all the best songs you used to really get into when we were young teens. I mean, you could so easily do an edgy Nickelback, or like a BFMV night, with your voice. You always do music none of us younger people know!”

He kissed Harry’s lips as Harry hummed thoughtfully and slid his arms around his boyfriend’s slowly growing waist. “Is that so?” He asked, considering it because and only because Louis had come up with the idea.

Louis nodded eagerly. “Do you know how hot it would be to have my sexy boyfriend up on stage singing all the sexy songs I used to fuck myself to, feeling like a rebel alone in my bedroom?”

Harry shivered, making Louis laugh. “Like what?” He asked, his voice gone embarrassingly deep.

“Animals,” Louis said immediately. “By Nickelback.”

Harry snorted lightly, but Louis was serious, so he vowed to give the song a listen. He hugged Louis to him and snuck his hands down to grab Louis’ ass, never tiring of feeling it, and Louis moaned, a little louder than normal, especially considering they were in public…and a place of business. Harry’s business, to be exact.

“Sorry,” Louis said immediately, blushing as he stepped back and straightened his button-up shirt, frowning as he fidgeted with the way it fell over his curves. “I have to go back to work, anyway, or Liam’ll brag for days about how much more dedicated he is than me.”

“Go make that paper,” Harry said sarcastically, and then, “hey. Stop that. You look incredible, now go.”

Louis huffed but stopped, looking away from the mirror and leaned in for a smooch, smiling when he got his way, and left for work while Harry finally went to take his actual lunch break. They really owed Zayn’s uncle a fruit arrangement, or something.

As he walked across the street, on the way to the café, his phone buzzed, but he blew it off since he was talking to Zayn. Once he got into their café and their order was placed, Zayn was tapping on his phone, so Harry got his own out and swiped across the screen to open his message up. I’m gonna join your jockey team tonight, hope you’re good with that, it read.

Harry coughed and took a swig of his water, and Zayn looked up at him in concern for a brief moment before Harry waved a hand to show he was fine.

(When Harry got home that night, Louis was already waiting against his door, which was usual, and he was palming himself right there in the hallway, which was not. Harry greeted him with what was meant to be a chaste little smooch but Louis turned it into something filthy, tongues tangling wetly and Harry felt hyperaware that they were in in the middle of the hallway where his neighbor who kept inviting him to church could open up his door and see.

Harry ended the kiss at that thought, turning to his door, but Louis plastered himself against Harry’s back, hands around Harry’s hips and sliding down and in, cupping Harry blatantly before Harry could get the door unlocked. He finally managed it, and they spilled in together, but Louis pushed Harry towards the bedroom and slammed the door behind himself as he turned and started chasing after him like a predator, laughing all the way.

Louis let himself be backed against the wall and stripped, Harry pulling off his clothes slowly, teasing them both in the worst and best way, and the fight drained out of Louis as soon as he was pushed down onto the bed and Harry got his fingers in him. He rode Harry with his hands gripping Harry’s thighs behind him, moaning like he’d never had it so good. Harry came too soon, but didn’t even care, simply dragging Louis forward so sit on his chest, and jerked Louis’ cock until he came all over Harry’s face.)

---

“Folic acid. We’re getting this,” Harry said, tossing the pill bottle into the basket Louis was pushing. Dr. Shelley, in his book, had stressed the importance of folic acid during pregnancy.

“Harry, folic acid is for women,” Louis sighed for the millionth time during this Walmart trip – and they’d only been in for a few minutes, having gone straight to the pharmaceutical area.

“No, it’s for pregnant people,” Harry corrected. “They just didn’t know men could get pregnant when they started all that campaigning. It’s not as if it happened often, with all the HIV and AIDS stuff going on when we were kids.” That was true; Harry had read it. “Oh, wait,” he paused, grabbing the bottle back from the basket and comparing the labels to another bottle on the shelf, further down. “No, okay, we’re gonna get this one,” he said, grabbing a new one. “This one’s got two hundred more milligrams of folic acid, and it’s an actual prenatal. Yeah. This one.” Harry tossed the new bottle into the basket and kept going, ignoring Louis’ whining.

“Whatever,” Louis sighed, but he let Harry press a kiss onto his temple.

“Come on,” he urged quietly. “Let’s go get some food.”

They moved on to the grocery section, starting in the freezer aisles. Louis kept adding things to the cart, but Harry simply put them back silently, a frown on his face when he read the labels. “All of this is processed garbage,” he complained.

“No. Harry, no,” Louis growled when Harry grabbed gluten-free frozen cookie dough. “You are not putting me on an organic fucking diet because I’m carrying. Loads of parents have perfectly healthy babies even after they’ve been, like, sniffing nail polish, and shit.”

“You’ve not been doing that, have you?!” Harry asked, shock and a tiny bit of panic welling up in his chest. Louis wasn’t at his house every night; sue him.

“Of course, not,” Louis said, waving Harry off like he was an idiot for even thinking it. “But that’s my point. I’m not eating organic. I’m not.”

“How about paleo?” Harry asked, suggesting it sheepishly, because he knew Louis would say no – paleo diets consisted mainly of fish (which Louis hated) and grass-fed, pasture-raised meat, weighing portions, and drinking pretty much nothing but water and certain kinds of milk. Louis wouldn’t just say no, he’d probably hit Harry if he ever figured out the diet’s specifics.

“What?” Louis asked, frowning. “Like, the Paleolithic era? As in, fifteen thousand years ago? Are you asking to start living as hunter-gatherers?”

Oh, well. Harry didn’t know that was actually a thing in history; he thought maybe the guy who came up with the diet was named Paleo, or something. “Uh…”

“Harry, no,” Louis said, laughing a little. “Where are you getting all of this?”

Harry blushed. “I’ve just been doing some light reading about habits, is all,” Harry said, ignoring the fact that he’d read six chapters already, mostly about pre-conception care, and he was just getting into the actual prenatal and early stages stuff. Louis didn’t have to know that.

“Do you even read?” Louis asked.

Harry furrowed his brows. “I mean, I know how to,” he answered stupidly, and then shrugged. “I’ll read whenever I want to.” Part of Harry wanted to stalk off in a huff, but he didn’t really think Louis was trying to make fun of him.

Louis must have sensed his defensiveness, though, because he only smiled and rubbed Harry’s arm sweetly. “At least one of us is reading, then,” he said lightly, and then moved on to grab a package of hot dogs, and Harry sighed, putting the package back.

“Louis, you can’t eat hot dogs…”

---

When Harry called Gemma on Thursday, he was nervous. A week ago, only a handful of people (besides the men he’d slept with before) knew he was gay. Last weekend, though, Louis and Harry had gone and told his parents, which meant that everyone knew, except Gemma. To be fair, Harry considered as his finger hovered over Gems boy-girl-emoji, Harry’s parents had probably already shared the news, though he’d asked them not to. Harry loved his parents, but they were awful at secret-keeping.

Not that Louis and their baby was a secret. Not at all. Harry just wanted control of how the few important people of his life found out.

With a deep breath, glad, for once, that Louis wasn’t staying the night, Harry pressed call.

---

“So, we’re gonna do something a little different tonight,” Harry said, looking around for the reactions. “It’s recently come to my attention that we’ve been ignoring some amazing music from our own childhoods. Now, that’s just a shame, so we’ve been working for the past few weeks on a few songs from a much more recent era, if you will. We’re gonna start off with a song I personally really liked when I was, like, just learning how to be sexy, and you might think less of me later, but…whatever. Here it goes.”

Harry stepped back and started up with Animals by Nickelback. Josh went insane on the drums, and every time Harry looked over, Niall was dry-humping the back of his guitar, moving his hips as he sang into the mic and Harry backed him up with vocals. Next was another Nickelback song, S-E-X, and when Harry looked out, Louis was beaming, singing the words along with Harry and the rest of the crowd who knew it. On one of the dirtier lyrics, Harry winked at Louis and then licked his lips seductively, but Louis only blushed and patted his tummy, which was starting to grow, something laying on top of his previously-firm abdominals that made his shirt curve out just the tiniest bit. Louis was self-conscious about it – he hadn’t even wanted Dr. Pinnock to measure his waist when they’d gone to another appointment, the other day – and now Louis was frowning, looking down at his tummy and rubbing it. Harry would have to change the way he saw that little tummy.

They moved on to Addicted, by Saving Abel, and Harry most definitely moved his hips provocatively while he sang certain lines, because Louis had mentioned that when he was a teen, he had fantasized about having sex to that song. Louis squirmed more on the stool, and Harry grabbed his crotch over his jeans and kept his hand there while he thrusted a few times. Next was Headstrong, by Trapt, which Harry could distinctly remember head-banging to in high school, and Three Days’ Grace’s Riot and Animal I Have Become were next. Lips of An Angel, by Hinder, and Holiday by Green Day, Kill Hannah’s Lips Like Morphine, which Harry had always loved.

“This is gonna be the last song,” Niall announced then, “so we’re gonna make it one everyone in this bar between the ages of twenty-one and sixty should have at least heard of before. Here’s Last Resort, by Papa Roach. Hope you like it.”

Harry cupped his hands around the mic as he sang it, mouth moving around the words awkwardly and trying to make the song his own, like all their covers. Several times, he saw Louis nodding his head to the beat, his facial expression resembling a teenager who thinks he’s a badass, and singing along to the music as his fingers tapped against the table.

“Thank you,” Harry called out, sweating and smiling. “You’ve been a great audience tonight; hope you liked our throwback night. We’re The Masochists; I’m Harry, that’s Josh, and Niall. We’ll be here next week!”

As usual, Louis stayed at the table while Harry helped load up, and Niall stood on his toes to get Louis’ attention and wave before he left, giant gauged ears swinging with his enthusiasm. He clapped Harry’s back and moved on towards the bar while Harry moved towards his boyfriend.

When he reached Louis, Harry noticed he was smiling and looking thrilled, so Harry leaned down and kissed him, grabbing his hand and sliding their fingers together. “Like the show?” He asked, and Louis laughed.

“You were incredible,” he said with a happy giggle. “I can’t believe you did that for me; you advanced, like, thirty years!”

Harry grinned, swallowing and feeling like he’d been caught out, or something. “Yeah, well,” he said, trying to play casual. “You wanted to see it! Only kind of me. Let’s get home,” he added after a pause, and Louis nodded.

“Wanna go to my place?” He asked. “I have some shopping to do tomorrow, and I’m gonna meet Li, so I can drive you.”

Harry wondered if Louis was inviting Harry over more now on purpose, or if it was just natural, now that Harry knew where he lived. Harry’d been over to Louis’ twice since the first time, on Monday, and Harry finally felt like Louis wasn’t quite so unreachable.

Harry nodded and smiled. “Mind if we stop by my place so I can grab some stuff?”

“Sure,” Louis said as they started walking out. “My toothbrush is still in your bathroom, anyway. Lord knows, I need that.”

“With your morning breath?” Harry joked, pretending to gag and then suffocate. “I’d drag my dying, decrepit body down to the store myself to get you a new toothbrush!” He laughed when Louis squawked and hit him in the chest, and leaned in to kiss his temple, only laughing more when Louis, pretending to be offended, moved his head out of reach.

“Hey,” Harry said, once he’d covered Louis’ face in kisses, right there on the sidewalk outside the bar. “You look really nice tonight, by the way.” He rubbed at Louis’ nice, pressed shirt and the silver-and-purple striped tie he was wearing, looking up to Louis’ blushing face. “Purple makes your eyes look ridiculously – nice.”

Dr. Shelley, in his recounts of being pregnant, himself, had mentioned a few times that whenever his husband had paid him a genuine compliment, it made his day, since he often got very self-conscious about the changes his body had been going through, even though, medically, he knew they were beautiful, miraculous and necessary. Harry’d already seen Louis start to doubt his attractiveness, especially over his weight gain, and it was frustrating, because Louis was so gorgeous, and Harry wasn’t very good with compliments.

“Thanks,” Louis said genuinely, squeezing Harry’s hand. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

---

When they got into Louis’ room, Louis sighed and took off his shoes, and Harry took Louis’ hands and kissed each fingertip. Since they’d been working on dealing with all Louis’ hormones and getting over the fight last weekend, they’d been talking even more than they usually did, and Harry felt like he knew Louis almost as well as he knew Zayn.

Louis laughed at the kisses and tried to squirm away, but Harry simply grabbed his face gently, sliding his hands up the lines of Louis’ cheekbones – which were slowly starting to become less announced, Louis’ face gaining a bit of extra a little faster, now (not that Harry would have even noticed if Louis hadn’t pointed it out in near-hysteria yesterday) – and leaned down, kissing him softly. Louis’ arms hung limply at his sides, like he didn’t know what to do when Harry wasn’t being at least a little rough, and Harry reached down to grab them without breaking the kiss, wrapping the man’s arms around his own neck, forcing Louis just a little bit closer.

Nearly instantly, Louis’ fingers started playing with Harry’s loose hair, hanging over his headband, like his hands had only needed a kick-start to remember what to do. Like muscle memory. Harry probably liked that thought too much to be completely normal.

Kissing down Louis’ neck, Harry let his hands roam over the smooth, barely-there curves of Louis’ sides, resting just above the swell of Louis’ ass over his fancy work trousers, a dark gray that complimented the lightness of the silver in his tie.

If Harry had Louis only one last time, and never again, he’d want to spend it exactly like this – a soft Louis, quiet and slightly confused but seemingly intrigued by Harry’s new gentleness. Harry pulled back, smiling just barely when Louis kept his eyes closed just a beat longer than usual, and slowly started pulling at Louis’ tie, slipping it over his head when it was loose enough.

He unbuttoned Louis’ shirt while Louis started unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves, taking off his cufflinks and reaching just a little to stretch and place them on top of the dresser, where he’d promptly forget their placement and swear a blue streak Monday morning in search of them.

When Harry slid Louis’ shirt off his body, he bent just enough to suck the tiniest mark into Louis’ collarbone, where he knew the button-up would cover. “I want to take care of you tonight,” he said, his voice gone awkwardly deep, suddenly. Harry cleared his throat and tried again. “Let me take care of you tonight, baby?”

Louis swallowed and bit his lip, but he nodded and slid his hands up Harry’s chest, across his shoulders and around his neck, where one hand gripped the other wrist, like he was hanging on to Harry. “Okay…Daddy.”

Harry ducked his head to kiss across the top of one of Louis’ shoulders, taking a breath and steeling himself. He remembered Louis frowning at the bump where their baby was sitting, curled up and ever-growing, waiting to meet its parents and be loved, and slowly unbuttoned the work trousers, carefully unzipping them and pulling at them so that they fell, bunching around Louis’ ankles.

Harry stooped down just a bit to grab underneath Louis’ thighs, his hands easily spanning the backs of them, while Louis tightened his grip around Harry’s neck in preparation to be lifted. Harry carried Louis over to the bed, pulling off his dress socks and climbing up the bed, situating himself between Louis’ legs and bracing himself high enough that he wouldn’t put too much weight on him or the baby.

“I’m so lucky,” Harry said quietly, trailing his lips across Louis’ cheeks. “Do you know why I’m lucky, baby?”

“No,” Louis said, letting his fingers trail up Harry’s arms and back down, when they hit his sleeves.

“I’m lucky,” Harry said, and kissed down Louis’ neck, “because I get to come home, almost every night, to you.” Louis blushed pink all the way down to his chest, and Harry started pressing open-mouthed kisses around Louis’ chest, avoiding his nipples until he spoke. “I have such a beautiful boy to care about me, to care about, and he even is letting a baby grow in his body for me. That’s how much he cares. Aren’t I a lucky man?”

Louis squeaked and squirmed a little when Harry started sucking at his nipple, but Harry just shushed at him soothingly, running a hand up and down Louis’ side to keep him still. “Aren’t I lucky?” He repeated, kissing up and down Louis’ breastbone.

“I – I guess so, Daddy,” Louis stammered out, scrunching his nose as he thought over Harry’s words.

“You guess?” Harry asked quietly, and pushed himself up, kissing Louis soundly, swallowing his groans until they needed to breathe. Louis drew a deep breath and started coughing as it tickled his throat, and Harry chuckled and rubbed at his chest until he was okay again. “Do you think I’m lucky, now?” He asked with a smile.

“Yes,” Louis said, licking his lips, where Harry had sucked until they started to swell. “You’re lucky to have that.”

“I have it all in you,” Harry said, wondering if Louis believed what he was agreeing to. “My sweet, good boy. You’re so beautiful.” He started kissing down Louis’ body, adding a compliment between each one. “Beautiful. And smart. Kind. Funny. Loyal. Understanding. So, so protective. Encouraging. Inspiring. Louis, you’re so inspiring.” Louis was shivering, toes making popping sounds as he curled and flexed them repeatedly. “You make me want to be things I’ve never known to exist.” Louis was staring up at Harry, mouth slightly parted and swallowing convulsively as Harry caressed his skin.

“What do you think about yourself?” Harry asked him, sitting up on his knees. Before Louis started answering, Harry drew his fingers over the line of Louis’ cock, on its way to being hard.

Louis’ hips jerked, just the tiniest bit, but he stopped them and answered quietly, “I’m – I have nice eyes, you said.”

“Don’t be modest, baby,” Harry chided softly, adding more pressure as he drew his fingers across Louis’ boxers again. “They are nice, though,” he added.

“I’m – pretty attractive,” Louis said next, and Harry grinned encouragingly. “And…I’m smart. Uhm, successful. I’m successful.” Louis took a shaky breath when Harry pulled at the waistband of Louis’ boxers, snapping them back against Louis’ skin. “I’m a good brother. And an alright boyfriend. I’m…kind of good in bed, even though I’m just learning all this – BDSM…stuff.”

“That’s right,” Harry agreed, cutting him off. “You’re such a good boy for Daddy, it’s so impressive. I love having sex with you; it’s always good. You’re so beautiful, I love watching you during sex.”

“’M getting pudgy,” Louis mumbled, his skin bright red under all Harry’s attention. Harry tried not to frown; he wouldn’t punish Louis for having a negative body image. That would only make him feel worse. Harry could only build him up, try to help him gain confidence.

“You’re the most beautiful boy in the world,” he countered, leaning back down to kiss Louis’ lips shut against the protest he was undoubtedly about to give. “You’re the most beautiful person to me, by so, so far. I’m gonna show you tonight, okay?”

Louis nodded hesitantly, and Harry started kissing his temple while his fingers trailed randomly across Louis’ skin. Making their way down Louis’ face, Harry’s lips were chaste and sweet until they found Louis’ lips. Louis kissed Harry like he was desperate and afraid of what would come next, and Harry cupped his face with a hand and tried to pour all the confidence in Louis he had into their kiss, stopping when Louis started rutting up against him and distracting Harry. “Be good,” he said quietly, giving Louis a quick little peck on the lips before moving on, kissing down Louis’ throat and sucking just shy of enough to leave a mark on Louis’ Adam’s apple.

Harry kissed across Louis’ collarbones, sucking rows of tiny little marks that would fade by Monday morning, and then licked over his nipples, loving the way Louis’ hands gripped his hair and held tight, keeping Harry’s face where it was. Harry sucked each one into his mouth and sucked in gentle, pulsing pulls that had Louis’ cock twitching, and Harry chuckled when he had to grab Louis’ wrists and pull his hands from his hair, so he could resume loving Louis’ body.

Yesterday, he had called Gemma and told her he was gay. Not giving her a chance to say anything, he’d blurted out that he had a boyfriend, and that he was also having a baby with him. He told her all about Louis, talking for almost a full hour nonstop and giving her absolutely no chance to give any responses or feedback, until he finally asked the question that had been weighing on his mind for months. “But do you think I’m in love with him, or the idea of him?”

As Harry gave kisses to every inch of Louis’ swelling belly, Harry knew Gemma had been right when she’d answered. “You very obviously know the answer to that, Harry. Stop thinking about it. It’s happening anyways; you might as well let it be.”

Louis tried rolling his hips, and Harry let him, hands roaming all over his body and lips following some instinctive pattern unknown even to his conscious. When he pulled at the waistband of Louis’ boxers, Louis whined and pushed his hips up so Harry could pull them off. Harry did, and then adjusted his own cock, still clothed completely. He kissed the underside of Louis’ hard cock before wrapping his lips around the head of it, relishing the way Louis moaned, louder than he ever did at Harry’s (probably because of the thin walls at his).

Harry sucked Louis’ cock with a new technique, less focus held on himself feeling Louis’ cock weighing heavily over top sensitive nerves in his throat, and more on making sure Louis would never forget how wet and hot and tight and talented Harry’s mouth and throat were. When Louis started squirming and moaning, Harry moved and stood, taking his jeans off and pulling his cock from his briefs that clung tightly to his skin. Without bothering to push them off his legs, Harry stepped out of his jeans and crawled back up onto the bed, looming over Louis and kissing his mouth before settling back down between his legs.

“You’re so incredible, Louis; you’re such a beautiful person. I’m so crazy about you.”

Louis let out a sob when Harry wrapped his lips around his cock again, one hand stroking his own cock and the other bracing himself on the mattress.

“I’m getting close,” Louis gritted out, hips jumping now and then while Harry kept his lips pillowy-soft and let Louis fuck up into his mouth, head of his cock hitting the back of Harry’s throat every once in a while.

“You can come, baby, that’s fine,” Harry said, voice hoarse and rough. He went back to sucking Louis’ cock, staying deep because Louis liked it, and Louis threaded his fingers into Harry’s wild hair and pulled him down, forcing his throat to work double-time to not gag at the surprise intrusion he hadn’t seen coming. Louis groaned, low and quiet, as he came down Harry’s throat, letting Harry up to swallow and then cough, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand and struggling with the fire in his throat.

Louis was mumbling an apology as he reached with his hand to pet comfortingly at Harry’s abs, but Harry just moved his hand out of the way, bending down, and trailed wet, hot kisses all over Louis’ tummy, stroking his cock at the awkward angle his body was bent in and not caring that his back was starting to twinge a little.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbled, petting at Louis’ chubby sides, where he had really started to gain weight a little rapidly. “I fucking love your body,” he swore, and came straight onto Louis’ stomach, nearly doubling over as he stroked his cock furiously enough that, wildly, he wondered if chafing could actually happen.

Louis groaned when he felt Harry’s come splash onto his skin, but Harry was already licking it up. He scooped some up onto a finger and offered it to Louis, who scrunched his nose but opened his mouth anyway. “If our baby has a taste for come and craves it, or something, I’m going to fucking kill you,” he mumbled half-heartedly, and Harry was shocked for a few moments before he let loose his cackling, booming laugh.

They lay in quiet together for a few minutes, getting their breathing and pulses in check, and Harry flopped down to the side of Louis, laying on his side to look at his boyfriend, one protective hand spread over Louis’ swelling stomach, palm down and fingers wide, like he was trying to hold the entire belly with it.

“You need to meet my parents,” Louis said quietly. “And my siblings.” He was silent for a few minutes, Harry having simply nodded; he knew it was true. Finally, Louis stopped chewing his lip and blurted, “Can we go visit them tomorrow? Please?”

Harry frowned. “If Zayn’s uncle will let me take off on such short notice,” he began, and Louis cut him off with a muttered swear word.

“I always forget you have to work on Saturdays,” he said. “What about Sunday? Can we go on Sunday? I can call my parents tomorrow morning, first thing.”

“Will they be ready?” Harry asked a little doubtfully. “I don’t know if the best first impression would be walking in while they’re still trying to, like –”

“No, no, Mom doesn’t give a shit if her house is clean,” Louis said dismissively, and Harry watched, faintly amused, as Louis started getting visibly excited as he looked at Harry hopefully. “Please, can we go Sunday?”

Harry chuckled and leaned in for a kiss, which Louis returned, but huffed impatiently when he didn’t get his answer quickly.

“Of course,” Harry said with a smile. Louis beamed.

---

“Harry, I’m standing here looking at you and telling you that I adore you, and I am genuinely incredibly excited that you’re coming home with me, and I’m glad you care about what my family thinks even though it’s, like, ninety percent for my own benefit than yours, I’m pretty sure, but I might seriously fucking stab you in the neck if you ask me one more time if you should take out your goddamned piercings.”

Louis didn’t even look up from the clothes he was stuffing into his suitcase. Harry had come into Louis’ bedroom to tell him dinner was ready – and, alright, yeah, Harry had asked a few times if Louis thought his family would react a little better with or without piercings and makeup, and, like, sure, Louis’ answer had always been the same (“My parents won’t care, darling; if you want to take them out, you can; if you want to leave them in, you’re basically just saving them a surprise later!”) – but Harry didn’t really think he could be blamed. It wasn’t so much that he cared what Louis’ family thought particularly about him, but Harry knew Louis was close to his family, and if they all hated Harry, well, it might put some strain on all the relationships. Harry didn’t want that. Blood was thicker than…semen.

Harry snapped back to Louis, who was still mumbling about Harry’s persistence, and frowned. “Well, I’ll take my stab-wound-free neck back into the dining room and eat by myself, then,” he retorted, and Louis looked up at him with a smile that turned slightly apologetic, though it was ruined by a laugh immediately following.

“Sorry, babe,” he said, chuckling to himself as he placed one hand on his back and another on his belly – but God, it was like Harry could watch it doubling in size by the minute. Louis’d had to go out and buy completely new jeans while Harry was at work today, nearly in tears when he saw he had reached what women’s maternity jeans labelled “second trimester size” even though he wasn’t even in his third month. He’d even called Dr. Pinnock in hysteria; she’d reminded him calmly what she’d said about male pregnancy moving faster than female. (Harry hadn’t been hysterical. He’d read it all in Dr. Shelley’s book. It had explained the timeline and clearly shown the differences in spans of time regarding the baby’s development inside Louis’ womb, so Harry had been able to learn all about it. There was a graph and everything.) “Baby Thing has given me a short temper today.”

“No,” Harry said firmly, moving towards Louis with a purpose. He sank down to his knees and surrounded Louis’ belly with his hands, giving it a kiss through his shirt and glaring up at Louis reproachfully. “Your name isn’t ‘Baby Thing’, darling,” he said to Louis’ tummy, rubbing it comfortingly. “You’re a beautiful, beautiful child, and we’re so excited; Daddy just can’t make up his mind about our name situation, is all. Don’t worry.”

Louis stared down at Harry in surprise, and then started laughing, scratching at Harry’s scalp to keep him from getting upset. “Harry, is this seriously how you’re trying to get me to choose a name?” He asked. “We haven’t even found out Baby Thing’s gender!”

“The baby’s sex, Louis,” Harry muttered out of habit, but Louis just rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Dr. Pinnock said we only have a few more days until we can figure it out, and we’ve got an appointment in, like, a week and a half. I want to be able to name our baby by the time we figure out its sex!” Harry climbed to his knees and took over folding, barely doing a better job than Louis but needing something to do with his hands because the weight of Louis’ gaze was a bit too much at the moment. “I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that,” he snapped obstinately. “A baby’s name is its identity. I’m just saying, you’re not exactly doing Daddy Yoga to calm them down; you could at least give them a kind nickname until you narrow down the decision.”

“Daddy Yoga,” Louis mumbled, rolling his eyes. He let it go, though, and rubbed his tummy. “Sorry, sweet thing,” he murmured, and Harry tried to hide his satisfied grin. “Daddy and Grumpster will – ”

“Grumpster?” Harry asked, not as outraged as his voice made him sound.

Louis grinned devilishly. “Like it?” He asked, flicking Harry’s elbow next to him. “It’s a mix of ‘grumpy hipster’. We can’t both have ‘Daddy’, so I figured I’d let you have a descriptive, instead! ‘Papa’ is so Jamestown Colony. Next, Sweet Thing will be dumping all our teabags into the bathtub.”

Harry snorted, but he shook his head. “I’m not a hipster,” he said. He let grumpy slide, because, well. “I’m not a hipster. I’m not having our child call me Grumpster. It’s a no from me.”

“How about ‘Papi’?” Louis “innocently” asked, eyes too wide to be sincere. Harry watched him, not entirely sure where he was taking it until he jutted out a hip and started patting the side of his head. “I luh ya, Papi. I luh ya, luh ya, luh ya, Papi,” he started singing, and Harry instantly wanted to put his fist through a wall.

“That stupid song’s going to be in my head for-fucking-ever, you asshole!” He wailed, and stomped out of the door, slamming it behind him to block the sound of Louis’ hysterical laughter. “I told you I hated that song because I wanted you to stop putting it on in the car!” Harry shouted through the suite, sitting down in front of the TV and watching it as he ate his own dinner alone, gritting his teeth as he tried desperately to think of lyrics that didn’t coincide at all with the new JLo song. He was failing.

Finally, Harry got out his laptop and searched alternatives to ‘Dad’. Searching through different language, Google was, once again, his friend, and he made his computer talk as he highlighted different words, so he could hear how they were meant to sound. When he scrolled over one word – a Malay word, “Ayah”, Harry let out an involuntary sigh. He highlighted the word and his computer read out, a strange, robotic voice pronouncing, “Eye-yah.”

Harry shut his computer and walked back into Louis’ room with a grin, picking him up and dropping him gently across the clothes Louis had sprawled all over his bed. Louis squawked in surprise, but laughed as he pulled Harry down on top of him. “What’s gotten into you, Papi?” He asked, teasingly, and Harry didn’t even bother to glare.

Instead, he nipped at Louis’ bottom lip and kissed him breathless, grinning and pressing their foreheads together when he needed more air. “Ayah,” he said, sighing the word again.

“Ayah?” Louis repeated, confused, but still smiling.

“It’s Malay,” Harry told him, “it means ‘dad’, that way I don’t have to be something stupid. I like it. Plus, it’s all soft sounds, so I think the baby will be able to say it fairly quickly…What do you think?”

Louis smiled. “I think it’s up to you what Baby I- what Sweet Thing calls you,” he corrected himself. “But I like it. Ayah.”

Harry kissed him again and then pulled away, dragging Louis up with him. “Come on,” he said, “your dinner’s probably already cold. Also, we’re just going tonight and for tomorrow; why are you packing so many clothes?” He asked, surveying the messy, clothes-filled bed and suitcase Louis was packing. Louis shrugged, blushing, and bit his lip, so Harry came around behind him, wrapping his arms around Louis’ belly and rubbing it, kissing the spot where his shoulder blended up to meet his neck.

Louis sighed and tilted his head to the side to give Harry more room to work with, and finally he said, “I’m getting bigger by the minute. I just want to make sure I have options. Plus, with how hot and cold I get randomly? And I’ve been so nauseous lately; if I throw up, I’m gonna need something else to wear.”

Harry kissed Louis’ neck, once down, and back up. “I think you’re worrying too much,” he concluded, and Louis shot him a glare, awkward head angle and all.

“This coming from the man who’s asked me seven times if he should change his appearance for people who are going to practically be family to him,” he answered drily, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “Well, hurry up. We better get a move on if you want to see your parents before I pass out. I’ll go heat your food back up.”

---

Louis’ family had moved to Schenectady once Louis started traveling with B.E. Smith, not having much of an excuse to stay right in Manhattan, as Louis’ dad, Mark, was receiving more and more offers from Albany, and Louis’ mom, Jay, was a nurse, so she could pretty much get a job anywhere in New York easily.

It was a drive that took nearly three hours, with traffic and Louis’ bladder, and Harry was nearly overwhelmed with new and old information. Naturally, the family man Louis was, Harry had heard plenty about his sisters and brother in the months they’d been together, but most of it had been updates or old stories, rather than basic information. Now, Harry had three hours to get it down.

“Dad – Mark – is a Senior Scientist at GE, he works in Albany. Mom’s at Ellis Hospital, she works with diabetic patients, and stuff. Lottie’s a sophomore, Felicite’s in eighth grade, Daisy and Phoebe are in fourth grade. Doris and Ernest are in kindergarten, now.”

“How am I going to tell them apart?” Harry asked, leg wiggling as he thumbed at his makeup in the sun visor’s mirror.

“Remember what happened last time you were doing that?” Louis asked, and mimed flicking the visor back in a way that would hit Harry in the face.

“I do,” Harry said drily, but moved back and shut the visor, anyway. He got Louis’ point: stop worrying.

“Daisy has pierced ears,” Louis answered Harry’s question. “As for Lottie and Felicite, Lottie wears makeup like a prostitute these days; Felicite wouldn’t be caught dead with the stuff on her face. Phoebe’s probably not going to talk to you; she’s way too shy. If you can’t tell Doris and Ernest apart, there’ll be something wrong with you, and I’ll have to question your ability to raise our child. Also, if you can’t tell Mom and Dad apart, I might have to just take you to an eye doctor. Or sit down and have a really awkward conversation with you that your mom should’ve had when you were much, much younger.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless, because it was obvious Louis was only acting obnoxious to make him smile. “Thanks,” he said sarcastically, but he really was glad for the information. Louis continued giving him information about his family until Harry’s head was spinning, and by the time they pulled up to the Tomlinson house, it was completely dark outside, even with the late sunsets.

Nevertheless, the porch light flicked on, giving the place some light, and the door opened and people came spilling out, so Louis squeezed Harry’s hand and hopped out of the car, arms spread wide and yelling loud enough to make Harry glad school was out, or they’d probably get a noise complaint.

The Tomlinsons lived in a relatively small house, given that they lived with six children, but there was a big yard and lots of toys and bikes and scooters leaned up against the driveway and scattered all around the place, as far as Harry could see with the bit of light from the porch. Louis was instantly covered in small humans, and Harry removed himself from the car, grabbing Louis’ bag from the backseat and his own overnight bag, shutting the door and coming around to stand next to Louis.

“Ah, I’ve got monsters on me! Help, help!” Louis was shouting, pretending to let the kids overpower him and he shielded his stomach as he pretended to be flung against the car, all the kids giggling loudly and hugging him.

“Louis, your tummy’s so fat!” One of the girls chirped, and Harry braced himself for a Louis meltdown, but none came.

“Yeah?” Louis asked, ruffling the girl’s hair. “You should’ve seen Mom when she was pregnant with you. Big as a house, I swear!”

There was a snort from the front door, and Harry looked up to see a woman whose faced matched every single child in the front yard – no DNA test needed for them, Harry thought to himself – and she was surveying the scene with a happy smile, her head rested on the chest of a much taller man, whose height was obviously given to his own biological children. Harry vaguely remembered Louis saying that Mark was technically his stepfather, though he’d been around since Louis was a baby and raised him as his own, which would explain Louis’ being 5’9, while his sisters were already near catching up to him.

“Come on back into the house, kids, leave Louis alone,” the woman – Jay, of course – called, loud and brooking no back-talk.

The kids all gave Louis kisses, but they trudged back into the house, while Jay and Mark came on out. Louis hugged his mom, tight around the neck but giving plenty of space between their stomachs, and she smiled brightly at Louis’ belly and patted it gently when they separated. “You’re getting so big!” She said joyously, but Mark was already moving in and hugging Louis just as tight and sweetly as Jay had, even kissing Louis’ hair while they were embracing, which caught Harry off guard a bit, but Louis didn’t seem like it was out of the ordinary at all, mumbling, “Hi, Dad,” to him happily.

“Momma, Dad, this is Harry,” Louis presented once he stepped back, and he grabbed Harry’s free hand and pulled him forward.

Harry set down his overnight bag and moved forward with a hand outstretched, ready to be polite for Louis and shake Jay and Mark’s hands, but they were having none of it.

Mark pulled Harry into a hug – thankfully less intimate as the one he’d given Louis – with a manly shoulder-clap and a friendly nod. “Hi, Harry, I’m Mark,” he said. “Thanks for knocking Louis, here, up!” He said, and Harry’s eyes widened a bit.

Before he could figure out what to say, though, Harry’s face was being pulled toward Jay, her hands touching briefly across his piercings, where she could see the porch light reflecting off the metal. “Goodness, gracious,” she murmured in fascination, “you’ve got a lot of piercings. This is incredible! How bad did they hurt?”

Harry’s cheeks were actually being squeezed together, and he started feeling uncomfortable when Louis cut in, slapping his mom’s hands away and giving Harry a deeply apologetic look. “I forgot to tell you, we’re a touchy family,” he explained, and then raised voice into a reproachful tone, as he faced his parents, “but my mom and dad promised they would be on their best behaviors, so it slipped my mind.”

Jay had the decency to look a little properly scolded, but Mark shrugged. “Aw, hell, I was just joshing with him,” he maintained, and Harry, despite himself, had to laugh. How northern a phrase.

“Harry’s not a really touchy person,” Louis explained, threading their pinkies together. “Anyway, now you’ve met him, but we’ve driven for three hours and it’s nighttime, so I’ll just take him to the spare bedroom –”

“Hold on, now,” Jay said as Louis started pulling Harry towards the house. “Where do you think you’re going together?” She asked. “You’re not sleeping in the same bedroom!”

Harry was tempted to point out that Louis was already pregnant, so they couldn’t exactly do much damage (even if they were going to have sex, which they definitely weren’t), but Jay and Louis were already laughing, snorting at something, and Louis pecked her cheek and kept pulling Harry.

“It’s nice to finally meet you!” Jay called as she watched Louis drag Harry onward.

“Oh, uhm, you, too!” Harry said, forcing a smile as he followed Louis into the house.

The kids had apparently been waiting right inside the front door, and Louis didn’t look surprised, so he figured it must be a common occurrence to listen in, so he simply smiled as they all crowded Louis. Ernest, easily identifiable as he was the only other boy in the room, jumped onto Louis’ leg and held on tight, looking like he was near tears. The older girls hugged Louis and then stepped back, watching with smiled as the younger ones all took their time loving on Louis, as well. Harry hadn’t even realized one was missing until he felt a tug at his jeans.

He looked down and saw a young girl of about eight or nine – she had earrings, Harry checked, which would make her Daisy, if he remembered correctly. “Hi,” Harry said, a little cautiously. He’d had no exposure to children, and suddenly felt all his inexperience.

“Hi,” the girl chirped back. “Who’re you?”

“I’m Harry,” Harry said, handing a hand. She shook it importantly, face all serious for about two seconds, before she smiled and revealed two missing teeth. “I’m Louis’ boyfriend. Are you…Daisy?”

Daisy grinned hugely and nodded, and suddenly, she jumped and wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist, hugging him tight and nuzzling her cheek awkwardly close to Harry’s belt. That would be something to get used to.

Harry patted her head awkwardly, and then took a chance and scratched his fingers gently through her ridiculously thin blonde hair, knowing he and Louis both enjoyed it. She smiled and nuzzled closer to the touch, so Harry assumed he was doing well.

“Are you happy to see Louis again?” He wondered aloud, and Daisy nodded, looking up at Harry.

“Yeah, very,” she said emphatically. “He used to come every weekend, almost, so it’s weird to not see him. Mom says you’re important to Louis, too, though, so he has to stay home with you lots, too.”

Harry frowned. “I didn’t realize he used to come home so often,” he mused. “I’ll try to get him to come see you guys more, okay? I’m sorry I’ve been taking up all his time.” He wasn’t, particularly. He didn’t get what the big deal was. He’d gone without seeing his big sister for months, and they were best friends.

Nevertheless, Daisy beamed up at him, but shrugged. “It’s okay,” she said through a smirk. “You’re really handsome, so it’s okay for Louis to spend lots of time with you. Plus, you’re having a baby, so you have to get ready. Doris and Ernest cried a lot. You have to work on a battle plan.”

“Uh, thanks,” Harry said wryly. “We’ll get right on that, I’m sure.”

Daisy smiled at Harry, her missing teeth making her look like those Wanted Dead or Alive posters for criminals Harry used to see in old cartoons as a kid. He smiled back at her, and she let go of him and turned around, crouching down and launching herself onto Louis’ back. Louis stumbled a bit, but kept his footing, and smiled as he turned around to Harry.

“Guys, girls and Ernie,” he said loudly, clapping his hands. “I want you all to meet Harry, my boyfriend.” Suddenly, there were seven pairs of eyes on him – nine, Harry corrected himself once he heard the screen door slam shut and knew Louis’ parents were back in the house and watching the scene. “He’s got a really small family, and he’s the youngest in it, so try not to overwhelm him, alright?” Louis was requesting.

There was silence in the house for about five minutes, but then the littlest girl – Doris, Harry was pretty sure – jumped, her hands spread out in the air, and shouted, “He likes makeup!”

Harry’s eyes widened, but Louis laughed and scooted in front of Harry protectively, holding his arms out in front of him to stop the kids from running at Harry. “What did I just say?” Louis cried out, laughing in exasperation. “We can talk about makeovers in the morning, okay? But me and Harry are both really tired. Harry got off work and we drove straight here, so –”

“You work?” One of the older girls asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “On a Saturday?”

“Are you a nurse, like Mommy?” Doris asked, and Harry snorted.

“Uh, no, I’m not a nurse,” he said. “I’m –” Harry cut himself off and looked at Louis’ parents, unsure if they would appreciate him telling their children he was responsible for ink on thousands of people, by now. He spotted traces of an old, slightly-worn tattoo on Mark’s shoulder, though, and thought that was as good of an indicator as he was going to get, judging by the blank and expectant looks on their faces. “I’m a tattoo artist,” Harry said. “And a singer.” He could leave out bartending.

Most of the kids thought it was incredible, though Harry thought probably the youngest twins didn’t really understand what he meant. Harry pushed back the sleeves of his hoodie – it really was too hot to wear a hoodie, but Harry hadn’t wanted to shock Louis’ parents too badly – and squatted down so they could see the tattoos on his sleeves. “I make things like these,” he explained awkwardly, unsure of how to talk to the kids. “And I put them on people’s skin, if they want.”

“Have you given Lou any tattoos?” One of the older girls asked, grinning devilishly, and Harry noticed she was wearing more makeup than he was – Lottie, then.

“No,” Louis said, batting at her playfully. “Harry’s got loads, though, and his best friend Zayn, too.”

The kids all stared at Harry, their eyes roaming all over him, and Doris frowned, reaching up and touching Harry’s nostril ring. “Did you miss your ears?” She asked, confused, looking at the several rings through Harry’s face.

Harry was shocked into laughter, and Louis stooped down just enough to ruffle her hair. “It’s called a nose ring, girly,” he said affectionately. “Lots of people have those.”

“Alright, you can ask Harry more questions tomorrow,” Jay called out suddenly, making Harry nearly fall over in his squat. “For now, I think it’s bed time for them, and for all of you!”

The kids all groaned, but said goodnight, trailing past Louis for kisses and hugs, and Harry had to smile when Daisy and Doris both came for hugs. Doris gave the corner of Harry’s mouth a little kiss, her lips wet as if she’d licked them just before. Harry hugged her back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand once she was walking away, so she wouldn’t see.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Jay said quietly, her voice warm and polite.

“Oh – night, thank you for having us over in such short notice,” Harry said.

“Oh, please,” Jay said dismissively, and with one last yank, Louis tugged Harry up the stairs.

“So polite,” Louis teased as he opened the door to the guest bedroom, dropping his back by the bed and immediately taking his clothes off, clearly exhausted. Out of sight of his sisters, Louis looked ten times more tired than he had once they pulled up, and Harry wondered how often he pretended for their sakes, even if it wasn’t a big deal – a pregnant person tired late at night after a long drive surely was normal. “One might think you were raised in good manners,” Louis continued, and Harry mock-scowled as he pulled his hoodie from his chest.

“Watch it,” he said, false warning in his voice. “You’re insulting my mother, there.” He crossed his eyes at Louis and smiled, leaning forward to kiss Louis’ lips. “Go to bed,” he said, continuing to undress and laughing when Louis flopped down on the full mattress.

Since they’d started the car, Harry hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the conversation they’d had one day at their café during Harry’s lunch break, Louis worrying if Harry would be able to get along with his family. Admittedly, the way Louis had carried on made Harry worry, and he’d come up with random things to say politely, planning out entire conversations with family members and hoping like hell they’d follow the script and like him so Louis wouldn’t melt down. Harry knew Louis wouldn’t be able to be with someone his family didn’t like for a long-term relationship, and he also knew their child deserved an extended family that got along with each other.

Getting into bed, Harry lay still while Louis fidgeted around, getting irritated as he struggled to get comfortable. Suddenly, he was caught off guard when Louis moved half on top of him and started rolling their hips, giving kisses to Harry’s jaw. The bed squeaked under their weight.

“Louis,” Harry hissed, squeezing his boyfriend’s hip as the mattress continued making sounds underneath Louis’ ministrations. Louis hummed in response but kept sucking at Harry’s neck. “Louis, stop it. What are you doing?”

Louis hummed again, and Harry hissed as he felt Louis’ teeth against his skin. “Getting my way,” Louis whispered, smiling smugly as he grinded his hips against Harry’s and felt the erection Harry was starting to grow. “What’s the matter, Daddy?” Louis continued, a little breathless already. “Don’t you want to fuck me in the spare bedroom of my parents’ house? Don’t you want to be naughty, even a little?”

“No,” Harry lied through his teeth. “We’re not doing this here.”

“Where, then?” Louis whined.

Harry gripped Louis’ hips tighter and frowned at him. “Louis, we’re not fucking in your parents’ house the first time I meet them,” he said firmly. “I don’t even know them. We’re definitely not playing in a place where we can be interrupted.”

Instead of whining, like Harry had expected, Louis grinned slowly. “…So, maybe we can have sex the second time?” He asked slyly, devil in his eyes. Harry groaned, but laughed, and pulled Louis close to kiss his forehead.

“We’ll see,” he promised diplomatically, smiling indulgently when Louis whisper-shouted a triumphant, ‘yes!’ harry rolled his eyes and kissed Louis gently, not wanting it to lead anywhere. “Go to sleep,” he said. “Goodnight, Louis.”

Louis hummed and then began the never-ending struggle to get comfortable again. “Night, sleep tight,” he shuffled as he pushed at pillows and pulled at Harry, pulling him down closer and resting against the curve of Harry’s arm and shoulder. “You should get your nipples pierced,” he said idly, rubbing at Harry’s chest over his shirt. “They’re so sensitive and pretty.” Harry laughed out of shock.

“You’re the one who’s two weeks from lactating,” Harry said, reciting the fact from Dr. Shelley’s book thoughtlessly.

Louis shifted and stopped rubbing Harry’s chest. “What?” He asked, looking at Harry, confused. “How do you know that? Why didn’t Dr. Pinnock tell me that?”

Harry scrunched his nose and cringed inwardly, but he was already caught; he wasn’t going down like a coward. “She didn’t tell me,” he admitted. Louis stared at Harry expectantly, so Harry sighed and leaned over the edge of the bed towards his bag. He rifled through it and pulled out the book, giving it to Louis.

Louis ran his fingers over the slightly-raised title and Dr. Shelley’s name, over the faces of the men on the cover and flipped the book over, looking at the critic raves, and flipped the book open to read the inside flaps for a description. “What is this?” He asked, though it was right in front of him.

“Dr. Shelley’s an obstetrician, he specializes in male pregnancies. He has three kids, I think – yeah, three of ‘em. I got it because you kept having those heartburns and I wanted to help so I needed advice to figure out how to help, but I didn’t want to actually call and ask anyone, so I went to this store Gems always goes to when she visits Manhattan., and the lady said this one was special. Dr. Shelley and his husband are friends of hers, so she wanted to give it to me. I dunno, I guess she thought I looked like I needed it,” he laughed awkward when Louis said nothing.

Suddenly, Louis started sniffling, making Harry’s eyes snap up in alarm, and Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ body. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said awkwardly, guessing at things Louis could possibly feel bad enough to cry about. “It was a little embarrassing that I didn’t know anything and needed a book, and I figured if I told you, you’d give me shit about cracking open a book when I don’t even like to read.”

Louis shook his head where it was squished against Harry’s chest and then leaned out of Harry’s embrace, surging up and kissing him. bewildered but content with the change in reaction, Harry kissed him back, rubbing Louis’ lower back with the knuckles of one hand while he tossed the book back towards his bag on the floor, returning passion with passion. Louis was still crying as he kissed Harry, though, and he sobbed through his nose, sending snot onto their skin in the most disgusting sounding and disgusting feeling sob ever. Harry jumped back and rubbed his cheek free of snot, laughing while Louis did the same. “Sorry,” he said with a watery chuckle.

“That’s okay,” Harry said, trying not to sound too obviously disgusted. “Why were you crying?” He asked, when Louis wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

“It’s so sweet,” Louis said, voice going high, and Harry never would have believed all that joking about being overemotional when you’re pregnant, but here it was in H.D., real-life proof. “You don’t even like reading but you’ve been reading books all this time to help me and our baby, and stuff, Harry, I’m so…thank you.”

“I love you,” Harry said gently, like it was a reason, and then froze when Louis did.

Louis started crying again, a big, ugly sound as more snot dripped free from his nose. “You asshole!” Louis cried, wiping at his face furiously. “You can’t tell me you love me for the first time ever when I’ve got fucking snot dripping down my face, what’s wrong with you!?”

Harry laughed, then, and just pulled Louis back in closer, ignoring the disgusting bodily fluids happening around Louis’ facial area. They laid back down together, Louis trying to get himself together while Harry just rubbed his back.

“Goodnight, Louis,” Harry whispered when his boyfriend finally settled down, feeling on top of the world because he’d finally said it.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Louis answered quietly. And then – “I love you, too, by the way. Sorry, I forgot to say it, with all the…tears, and stuff. But I do, a lot.”

Harry kissed Louis’ hair and twisted the fingers of their hand together and drifted off to happy, happy sleep.

---

Harry woke up to an obnoxious amount of muffled giggling and knocking on the bedroom door. Beside him, Louis mumbled, “Fucking children,” and turned over, smashing his head face-first into the pillow and pulling the blanket up over his head, only leaving an inch or so open for air.

Deciding he’d rather not have to deal with Louis in the mood of a bear all day, Harry edged himself out of the bed and opened the door, glad he’d managed to at least keep his (mostly unused) pajama pants on, though he’d weaseled his way out of his tank top.

When Harry opened the door, he saw Ernest and Doris, and an older twin who, after checking the ears, turned out to be Daisy. Trying not to rub at his eyes, knowing his makeup would be insanely smeared already, Harry blinked down at the small humans and tried to smile, though he could feel how furry his teeth were. “Morning,” he said, voice raspy.

“Harry, it’s seven o’clock,” Daisy said, a little reproachfully. “That means you have to wake up.”

Had it been anyone else’s siblings, Harry might have throttled the small children for waking him up at seven a.m. on a Sunday. As it were, Harry entertained some quick little fantasies until he said, “I usually don’t wake up until ten or eleven on Sundays.” Doris looked like she’d swallowed a lemon. “I work late into the night,” Harry explained, “so in order to get enough sleep, I have to sleep late into the morning.”

“Well, you’re here, so you have to do it the Tommo way,” Daisy said bossily, and Harry had to snort, because that was clearly a phrase she’d learned from her big brother. “Louis, too,” she added, but Harry shook his head.

“Louis’ got to get a lot of sleep,” he explained, “to grow our baby right. Let’s let him sleep. He’ll wake up soon, I’m sure.”

Harry promised the children he’d be down in a few minutes, and then went to take a shower and do his makeup. He nearly burned the skin off his fucking body in the Tomlinson shower, and nearly blinded his left eye when he slipped on the very small counter where he’d rested his arm to put his eyeliner on. He’d brought his more conservative clothes, much to Louis’ annoyance (“Babe, you might as well go all-out the first time, or else they’ll just be confused as to why you keep getting more and more...bad-ass, whatever you call it, each time they see you!”), and he dressed in them and tied his headscarf into place quickly, bringing his dirty clothes back into the guest bedroom and then crept downstairs so he didn’t wake Louis up.

All the kids were waiting downstairs, Mark and Jay sitting together in an oversized chair that reclined, the kids on other furniture or on the floor. “Good morning, Harry,” the Tomlinsons all said at once, catching him off guard and making him jump.

“Oh, uh, morning,” Harry said awkwardly.

They all stared at each other for a moment, until the awkwardness started to suffocate Harry, and then Daisy chose to ask, “Can you put makeup on me today, Harry?”

Harry looked worriedly to Mark and Jay, who only looked bemused. “Uhm, if it’s okay with your parents, I guess,” he said slowly, and watched the adults look at each other.

“Dad?” Jay asked, and Mark shrugged.

“It’s okay with me if it’s okay with you, Mom,” he answered, and Daisy cheered.

Next to her, another girl slightly smaller than Daisy, without any earrings, moved to whisper into Daisy’s ear. After a moment, Daisy lit up and asked Harry, “Phoebe wants makeup, too. Will you do her?”

“Uh, sure,” Harry said, trying his best to smile, only to remember he probably looked terrifying to them, at least a little bit. Phoebe looked at him, finally, though, and smiled tentatively at him, and Doris started gasping. “I’ll do your makeup, too, if you want,” Harry said preemptively.

The smallest girl only smiled, though, and said, “No, I don’t like makeup, like Felicite. It looks handsome on you but I don’t want any, thank you. But Louis never does makeup with them, ‘cause he doesn’t like it!”

Harry grinned, remembering the day Louis had let Harry put makeup on him in the bathroom. “I bet he’s just scared you’ll know how bad he is at putting makeup on if he does it,” he joked to Doris, who giggled, covering her entire mouth. “Should I go get my makeup now, or…?” Harry trailed off. In his parents’ house, nobody did anything until they’d eaten breakfast. It was the most important meal, even more important than dinner, in their family, and if anyone was visiting during breakfast, it was really important to Anne and Robin that they all eat together first thing in the morning.

Jay didn’t seem to feel the same way, though, because she just shrugged. Mark laughed. “If you think you can handle squealing, wiggly girls before coffee, you go ahead, my friend.”

Harry just forced a smile and grabbed his makeup bag, glad he was too lazy to sort it out, because he still had the lighter colors Gemma always left “on accident” when she visited, which would be tolerable for young girls. Harry didn’t think Louis’ parents would appreciate him making their daughters look like low-class hookers on their first morning together.

Daisy went first, sitting down on the floor and crossing her legs, so Harry sat down, too, grunting as his tight jeans strained against the position. She chatted Harry’s ear off, much like some of the people Harry tattooed, and Harry was able to get away with minimal interaction, though he thought he was doing okay, because she was smiling. Harry put one of the lighter purples on her lids and glanced at Mark and Jay in question when he brought out the liquid eyeliner, since he never used it and didn’t want to risk pink eye from sharing makeup. They didn’t react, so Harry told Daisy to keep her eyes closed and stay very, very still. He went for just straight, clean lines, but it was fucking liquid eyeliner, so it was difficult, and it ended up a lot thicker than he’d intended in order for it to be clean and even. Regardless, Daisy loved it once Harry was finished and she ran to go check it in the bathroom mirror, running back and hugging Harry, not seeming to notice his slightly awkward reaction to it.

Kids weren’t too bad, Harry decided. They were a lot like Niall, in the way that they didn’t really care if you had shitty social skills; they just wanted your attention either way. And kids like Daisy and Doris, who weren’t shy in the least and were both fairly affectionate, wanted hugs all the time and didn’t care if you didn’t hug back immediately.

Phoebe’s turn was next, and Doris made Harry’s life a little more difficult when she plopped down in Harry’s lap and rested her head against Harry’s chest, making him have to reach awkwardly around her to get to Phoebe’s face.

“What color do you want?” Harry asked her, and she blushed but pointed to the darker red Harry used pretty much every other weekend for shows; it was a really bad ass color when it was put on certain ways.

“Lou-Lou showed us a picture of you,” she nearly whispered, “after your show. Can you make me look like you?”

Harry glanced back at Louis’ parents, but they weren’t paying attention, and shrugged. If they weren’t watching Harry with their kids, they clearly didn’t care what he did with their faces. Plus, there was obviously a reason Louis wasn’t bothered with Harry’s appearance. “Sure,” he said, and Phoebe blushed again and scooted closer to him, their knees touching.

“Thanks,” she whispered. Harry didn’t answer, just grabbing his red and starting to smear the powder on with his index finger.

Finally, Harry asked, “When did Louis show you a picture of me, Phoebe?”

Phoebe kept her eyes closed, but Harry saw the blush on her face even from being addressed. Doris spoke up first, though, craning her head back to look up at Harry’s face. “When he came back last week,” she piped up, and, right. When Louis got upset, he came home. Harry hadn’t even thought about that. “He was frowny a lot,” Doris added, a frown covering her own face. She brightened up, soon, though, chirping, “But he showed us lots of pitchers!”

“Pictures, Dory,” Felicite corrected absently, catching Harry off guard. He’d thought she was absorbed in her book, since she hadn’t looked up since greeting Harry when he walked in.

“Pictures,” Doris said, frowning as she still mispronounced the word slightly. “Lou-Lou showed us lots of them of you. I think he thinks you’re pretty,” she whispered loudly, cupping her hand around her mouth the wrong way. Harry smiled despite himself.

“I think he’s pretty, too,” he answered, and Doris squirmed excitedly on Harry’s lap.

“I’m gonna go tell him!” She shouted, jumping up (and frogging Harry’s thigh) and shooting off like a rocket towards the guest room before he could stop her.

“Dory’s not a good secret-keeper,” Phoebe muttered quietly, and Harry laughed loudly in her face, slapping a hand over his mouth when everyone else looked up at him, startled by the explosion of sound, and laughed at him.

“You have a funny laugh,” Ernest said, coming over and sitting next to Phoebe, placing a hand over her knee and stroking it. Kids were weird.

Harry continued smoothing the red over Phoebe’s skin and said, “I know. Louis tries to be really funny and make me laugh like that a lot.”

“Harry, how come you have so many tattoos?” Daisy asked suddenly.

Lottie popped her on the head with her magazine. “He’s a tattoo artist, dummy,” she said, laughing, and Daisy frowned.

“Is it a rule to have lots of tattoos if you’re a tattoo artist?”

“No,” Harry answered with a peaceful smile. “I get tattoos because I like them, and I like how they look. Sort of how maybe you like the way you look with your hair down, or up in a braid, or when you wear a dress, or something.”

“So, it’s because you want to look hot?” Daisy asked, and Lottie popped her on the head with the magazine again.

“That’s Louis’ boyfriend,” she scolded, though her face was a little pink. “Plus, you’re too young. You’re not allowed to think he’s hot.”

Harry snorted, though he wasn’t sure what to say back to that.

“Let her think he’s hot,” Felicite argued, while Mark started laughing. “As long as she knows she’s too young, I’m sure Harry’s not offended by it, or anything. Are you?” She asked, a bit of challenge in her eyes when she looked over at Harry, sitting on the floor.

Harry floundered for something to say, but everyone was looking at him. “Look, I’m just the one putting makeup on,” he babbled, and Phoebe giggled. Harry found the sound very pleasant.

“Girls, leave Harry alone,” Jay said mercifully, chuckling. “Remember what Lou said: he’s not used to lots of kids. We don’t wanna scare him off, do we?” Ernest promptly roared like a lion, right in Harry’s ear, apparently attempting to “scare him off”.

Another roar immediately followed, a girly, giggly shriek coming after, and Doris came running around the corner, practically diving into Harry’s lap. “Save me, Harry! Save me!”

“Here comes the Tickle Monster!” Louis growled, and stomped around the corner while all the girls and Ernest scattered, shrieking and hiding in various places, leaving Harry the only one in the floor, makeup strewn all over the carpet. Louis’ hair was still mussed up, a low-cut tank top very obviously carelessly thrown on and bending over Louis’ belly, and his hands were spread open into makeshift claws, clenching and opening wide around air. Louis exaggeratedly looked around the room, where girls were unsuccessfully hiding, toes peeking out underneath curtains and hair peeking out behind furniture, fingers gripping onto legs of the piano in the corner.

When Louis’ eyes, wide and crazed, locked onto Harry, he growled and started coming towards Harry, the younger girls shrieking. Harry started laughing, protesting loudly that Louis wasn’t allowed to get him, and out of nowhere, little Phoebe ran out to Harry, grabbing his hand, and started pulling at it, trying to get him to hurry.

Harry heaved himself up and started running where Phoebe led, but Louis was too quick and grabbed Harry around the sides of his ribcage, tickling him and making him fall to the ground on his butt, laughing and pushing Louis away as best as he could without being too rough on his belly.

“Mercy! Mercy!” Harry cried through his laughter as Louis kept tickling, but Louis didn’t stop, and Phoebe shouted, “You have to say ‘Lou-Lou’s the best’!”

“Lou-Lou’s the best!” Harry laughed, and immediately, the tickling stopped. Harry clutched at his sides protectively, laughter dying out slowly, and Louis huffed a sigh and collapsed down on Harry’s chest, right there in front of everyone.

“Tickle Monster’s out of shape,” he said exhaustedly.

“Tickle Monster’s also up about two hours earlier than usual,” Jay said from the couch, where she and Mark had watched the entire scene. Louis glanced up at the clock, which read that it was just past eight in the morning, and groaned, pushing himself up off of Harry and sitting down on the floor next to him.

When Harry pushed himself up, Louis leaned in with a smile. “Good morning,” he said, and kissed Harry, breath still sour and skin smelling like pillows with Febreeze on them.

“Hi,” Harry answered, glancing around to see that Louis’ family had all moved back onto furniture, save Phoebe, who was standing uncertainly by the makeup, glancing between the bag on the floor and Louis and Harry, a few feet away. “Ready to finish up?” Harry asked, and Phoebe grinned, her entire face lighting up and making her look like an entirely different child. She nodded, so Harry let Louis kiss his cheek and scooted back over towards her. “Thanks for waiting,” he told her quietly, and she just closed her eyes and smiled when she felt Harry continuing with her makeup.

He used his pencil eyeliner, deciding he could just go out and buy a new one if one of them ended up with pink eye, or something, and struggled again with mascara, like he’d done with Daisy – it was hard to make a child stop blinking when a giant stick neared their eyeball – and when he was finished, Phoebe thanked him quietly before slowly making her way to the bathroom. When she came back, Harry was cleaning up, and she thanked him again, hesitantly leaning down to hug him. Harry hugged her back, a warm, happy feeling spreading to his stomach, and she made her way over to sit by her twin.

Harry was still on the floor, leaning against the couch, Doris’ toes touching his shoulder over and over again, but he didn’t want to be rude by moving away even though it was irritating as sin, when Louis came back in, freshly showered and teeth (thankfully) brushed. “The pregnant man needs food,” he complained loudly, and Harry got up to make them some breakfast, but Jay stood, as well.

“Finally,” she complained. “We’ve been waiting on you this whole time! Kids, let’s go, get your shoes on.”

The kids all cheered, and Harry was nearly knocked over when four children shot past him and Louis, the older two girls walking calmly and yelling at the younger four to slow down. Harry and Louis looked at each other.

“I didn’t know you guys were waiting on me,” Louis defended himself.

“Neither did I,” Harry laughed, and he hopped back up the stairs to grab their wallets and phones while Louis fought his way to their shoes in the entrance hall, crowded with children trying to find matching shoes for themselves.

---

Breakfast was a little strange for Harry.

For one, they’d gone to Cracker Barrel, which was ridiculously crowded, being a Sunday morning. They’d also had to ask for a table for ten, which had meant waiting for nearly half an hour in a restaurant filled with delicious-smelling food, and Louis was cranky, which transferred to the kids – especially Ernest, who clearly idolized Louis.

For another, once enough tables had opened up, there’d been an all-out blood bath over who would sit next to Louis and Harry. Ernest screamed at a pitch more suitable for dogs and bats, and it was decided then and there that he would sit next to Louis. Once his spot was promised, his screaming and tears stopped immediately, and he smirked and chose his spot, the waitress watching on with growing terror.

Harry looked at Jay as he sat down, but she didn’t look upset at all. Instead, she was rolling her eyes. “He’s Louis…twenty years younger,” she said when she caught Harry’s eye.

Harry tried not to snort, but Louis was already dissolved in quiet laughter two seats down. Doris sat down between Ernest and Harry after a breath-holding match that turned Doris’ face a nasty reddish purple, and, to Harry’s surprise, Phoebe sat down on Harry’s right, Daisy directly across from her, after a fiercely-whispered conversation that somehow seemed even more intense than anything else. The older twins both were still in full makeup, Harry right along with them, and they were getting a few stares in the restaurant already.

Harry was sitting directly across from Mark, Daisy on one side and Lottie on the other, Jay next to Lottie and Felicite at the head of the table.

Harry was used to relatively quiet, though very fun, meals with his family, with Gemma being the most talkative by far. It was often Gemma who provided conversation in the first place, with Harry and Robin’s contentedness with quiet and Anne not knowing what to say, but with the Tomlinsons, barely any of them had chances to get words in edgewise. Felicite was quietly hilarious, in a way so reminiscent of Zayn that Harry almost wanted them to meet, though it would certainly be awkward as hell if that happened. Lottie was incredibly intelligent, but she seemed a little embarrassed of the fact, because whenever she would slip up and ingeniously retort to Louis’ light hearted jabs about grades or her being a dumb blonde, she would blush when she realized it and fall quiet for a few minutes. Harry wanted to find out who taught her girls shouldn’t be too smart and wring their neck.

“So, uhm, Harry, where did you go to college?” Lottie asked after a tease from Louis and Felicite about her devotion to makeup, rather than her GPA. It wasn’t a deflection as such; Harry got the feeling she was actually curious, but he grinned a little wryly.

“Well, I took a little time at Hunter College, for media studies…but, uh, I didn’t stay very long. Actually, I only stayed about three semesters. I liked college, but it wasn’t for me.” Harry shrugged like it didn’t bother him that he wasn’t too smart, talking to a group whose parents were professionals in medicine and science and whose older brother was a corporate leader and graduated in the top fifteen of his class at an Ivy League university.

Lottie was quiet for a moment as she chewed her breakfast and eyed Harry speculatively. “College isn’t for everyone,” she said finally, and Harry wasn’t sure what to say to that. “At least you gave it a try. Felicite thinks she doesn’t have to go to college if she’s got a good enough portfolio for her photography; I think she should keep learning to better her chances at a professional career.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully, not sure what to say to that and glad, for once, that the noise factor prevented Felicite, all the way down at the other end of the table, from hearing.

“College was great,” he said finally, slowly, “and depending on her talent, school could help her, but it also might hinder her. If she’s really good and individual without a lot of fundamental learning, she might get messed up with all the foundational stuff.” Harry shrugged pensively. “I encourage college, but, like I said, it’s not for everyone. Plus, she’s young, still. She’s got a lot of time to decide whether she wants college or not, and plenty of time to change her dream career twenty times over.”

Lottie stared at Harry some more before she nodded, apparently in vague agreement.

“Why’d you drop out, Harry?” Mark asked. “You seem like a smart guy.”

Harry laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck, smearing a bit of syrup into his hair with a grimace. “I’m not, particularly,” he admitted. “I did alright, but school was kind of…rough for me for a while when I was a kid, and it kind of gave a lasting impression, I guess. My best friend’s uncle had another opening as an apprentice, and I’d just started a little cover band with my other best friend and his cousin and we were making money, so I did both and started succeeding a little more happily that way than I was in school.” Harry made himself shrug and tried to steer the topic away a little. “I think it’s great, what Louis did – Ivy League, nice, good, challenging career with insane benefits and good money and fun for him, but I wouldn’t have been happy. I’m glad he is, but that life is a bit too…constricting for me. I don’t really like that much order for my personal day-to-day work life. Louis does, though, and that’s what matters for him.”

“Happy wife, happy life,” Mark said, and then paused as if he realized that Louis wasn’t Harry’s wife for a multitude of reasons, and then waved his fork in the air, swatting those considerations away as if they didn’t matter. “Glad you seem to have learned that principle quickly. Louis seems to be happy with you and your career choices, and you both seem like you’re doing alright, financially, so.”

Harry couldn’t help but feel like he just passed the Dad Test, and breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Harry should give me a tattoo,” Doris piped up out of nowhere, and Ernest banged on the table excitedly and shouted affirmatives. Even Felicite seemed interested, and Lottie sat up a little straight and mumbling something about an infinity symbol.

“I could do that, later,” Harry said.

“With a marker, obviously,” Louis cut in, grinning at Harry and winking. “No needles for any of you – not now, not ever.”

“Harry, are you a boy?” Ernest asked once the kids all calmed down from Louis’ remark.

Harry let out a startled laugh, short and solitary. “Uhm, yeah, I’m a boy,” Harry answered, frowning in confusion.

“How come you wear makeup?” The boy asked, then.

“Uh…” Harry floundered for a minute until he finally said, “It makes me feel cool.”

“Can’t you just wear cool shoes?” Ernest asked, hiking his legs up to show Harry the Avengers light-up shoes he was sporting.

“Wow, I need some of those,” Harry said. “Where’d you get those?”

“Target,” Ernest replied proudly, no idea that Harry didn’t actually care. “I got them because I got ‘Excellent’ on my handwriting for the last progress report in school on my handwriting,” he boasted.

“Good job, man!” Louis exclaimed, giving Ernest a fist bump that turned into a firecracker, one finger gliding up in the air and then exploded, shaking spirit fingers all the way back down – complete with sound effects.

“I didn’t get ‘Excellent’,” Doris said, frowning. “But Mommy said that was okay, because I got ‘Except-Exseptival Progress’.”

“Exceptional,” Mark corrected gently.

“Yeah, that,” Doris said, waving at Mark and turning eager, affirmation-seeking eyes up to Harry, who faltered.

“Oh, uh, good – good job, Doris. That’s really great. Progress is a good thing, you should be proud of yourself.”

“When’d you get your lip piercings?” Lottie asked suddenly, mercifully distracting Harry.

“Uhm, I got them after my belly ring…” Harry mumbled, trying to do the math.

“You have a belly ring?”

“No, no, not anymore,” Harry said dismissively, grimacing as he remembered when it snagged in a fairly rough bout of sex. It had totally ruined the mood. “I think I got them…about two years ago? Something like that.”

The rest of breakfast went like that, Harry being asked question after question. Lottie saved Harry from awkward moments a number of times, and Louis had brushed his fingers against the back of Harry’s neck every time he’d gone to the bathroom. On the way back, Louis let Lottie switch cars so he could ride back with Ernest, who hadn’t let go of Louis yet, and Lottie sat in the front seat of Louis’ car on the way back, Daisy and quiet little Phoebe in the backseat.

It was the worst seventeen-minute drive of Harry’s life.

In addition to being terrified of killing Louis’ sisters in a freak car accident, or something, he was subjected to the girls’ ceaseless chatter and loud, shrieking giggles, despite Lottie telling them to quiet down. The car was filled with Lottie’s perfume and the overly-lavender scent of the girls’ shampoo. Lottie hooked her phone up to the car’s stereo, and Harry was forced to listen to far more Let It Go songs than he ever wanted to hear in his life collectively again.

Louis laughed at his expression when they all got out of the car at the Tomlinson’s. Harry dragging behind out of trauma and a migraine beginning to develop, and promised not to leave Harry alone with the girls again if he could help it.

Of course, it was futile, because Louis had the bladder of a two-year-old and restless legs that prompted him to never cease walking.

The older twins went to play softball at the fields at the end of their street with some friends, and Felicite tagged along to supervise, leaving Ernest following Louis’ every move and Doris following Harry’s. More than once, Doris even waited outside the bathroom or bedroom when Harry shut the door behind himself. Harry nearly hit his head on the faucet when he opened the door to the wide-eyed face of a tiny human waiting for him on the other side, smiling up at him.

Despite all the craziness, though, the Tomlinson house was kind of fun. It was definitely the kind of fun Harry would only be able to take in small doses, but it wasn’t bad, at all. Lunch was a similarly-loud affair, with the older twins pouting angrily at being made to stop their game and come home to eat. They scarfed down food, though, and ran back out, making Louis swear to come watch for a few minutes eventually.

Louis played the piano – not very well, but he knew a few songs – and Harry stood behind him, massaging his shoulders. Doris stood on a chair next to Harry so she could massage the shoulders of Ernest, who was sitting on the bench next to Louis.

Finally, Doris coaxed her mom into picking out the markers, and Harry spent the better part of an hour drawing “tattoos” all over the kids. Felicite wanted a tiger on her shoulder, so Harry did his best, trying to remember how he’d done the lion a few days ago, without the mane and adding stripes. Lottie had blushed when she asked Harry to do an infinity symbol on the inside of her wrist.

“I’ll do it, but I want you to think of something else while I do it,” Harry said.

“Why?” Lottie frowned, and Harry stared at her for a few moments.

“What do you want to do when you grow up?” Harry asked her. “Scientist, like your dad? Doctor? Climb the corporate ladder?” Lottie bit her lip. “This might sound really, really awkward,” Hary began, “but I want you to know that intelligence is so hot. Seriously – I’m not just saying that. I would have killed to be as smart as you and Louis when I was growing up. He brags about you all the time. Louis, I mean. He teases you about being a dumb blonde, but he’s seriously so proud of you. Both times he heard about progress reports at school, that’s all I heard about for days, was how smart his little sister Lottie is.”

Lottie chewed on her lip, looking past Harry, to where Louis was snuggling up with Ernest and Doris, listening to them talk about their tattoos. “Really?” She asked finally, and Harry nodded.

“Don’t be embarrassed about being smart. Honestly, what a silly thing to be ashamed of! You can do anything you want. Own that. If someone doesn’t like how smart you are, they’re way too stupid and insecure about themselves to deserve you.”

Lottie nodded quietly, and Harry uncapped the marker and started on her infinity symbol. She tapped away on her phone while he did it, and when he was finished turned over, brushing her hair up into a side pony tail and handed Harry her phone, which was set on a zoomed-in photo of what looked like school notes. “It’s a symbol of intelligence,” Lottie explained. “It’s the Egyptian goddess Seshat. She’s the goddess of wisdom, writing, science, observation, architecture…all kinds of stuff. That’s kind of her symbol, in hieroglyphics.”

Harry nodded, and Lottie pulled her ear forward, clearly giving him a place to work with. He drew the symbol behind her ear, fanning it with his hand to make it dry fast to prevent smudging, and he told her quietly, “If you go over it with a fine-tipped Sharpie, you can let it dry, rub baby powder over it a little, and then hair spray it on. It’ll stay there for about a week and a half, if you’re careful when you wash your hair.” Lottie turned around and smiled at him, blushing, and Harry found himself smiling back of his own volition. “Be proud of what makes you a little weird,” he told her seriously, and then she got up and left, a happy air settling in the room.

---

Dinner was the loudest of all.

Beforehand, Louis and Harry (and Doris and Ernest) went to watch the older twins play. Phoebe was like a freaking rocket on the bases, running fast enough that her pop-up slide was completely unnecessary. Daisy was positively filthy, and the twins’ makeup was smeared everywhere, making them look ridiculous. Daisy was a power hitter, even at nine years old, and she had an arm on her, too. They really were good players, though Phoebe had a quietly-lethal passion for it that Harry couldn’t describe and didn’t quite see in Daisy, despite her obvious talent.

When they came back, the girls only had time to wash up and then come to the table. Dinner consisted of passing plates and Tupperware bowls around in circles to the left. Louis sat next to Harry, this time, and his parents started asking Harry a few more questions that were slightly more adult-related. Jay asked about checkups and screenings, and Harry and Louis specifically did not mention their disagreement on the Downs Syndrome testing. The kids asked questions and it was obvious that the Tomlinsons encouraged curiosity within their children, but when Ernest asked how Louis got pregnant in the first place, questions were shut down and there was a quiet game talking ban placed on the table for about three minutes until Daisy broke it.

When it came time to say goodbye, Harry was nearly drowned in hugs he would never quite be ready for, but returned nonetheless. Ernest started throwing a tantrum, heartbroken and angry at Louis’ disappearance again, and Lottie and Phoebe gave quiet hugs full of seriousness. Doris peppered Harry’s face in kisses, though she was admittedly very adorably careful around Harry’s piercings, since Harry had told her it was painful if he wasn’t really gentle with them. Daisy had only given him one kiss, right on the cheek, and buried her head against Harry’s neck as she squeezed him tight. Felicite hugged him carefully. Mark did the classic manly handshake-clap-on-the-shoulder-thing, and Jay hugged Harry and told him he was welcome – encouraged, even – to come back any time he was available.

Louis’ throat was a little rough by the time Harry shut him into the passenger seat, and Jay had to hold Ernest so he didn’t chase after the car, crying angrily at Louis and Harry. Everyone else waved from the front porch as Harry and Louis drove out of sight.

---

The next morning, Harry woke up with his abs a little sorer than usual and a text on his phone. You were incredible yesterday. Even better last night ;) love you !

Harry went to work feeling like the king of the world.

---

Zayn had been acting weird for two days.

Harry came into work on Wednesday a little cautiously, unsure of what he’d find. Monday, Zayn had acted hysterical, strange and hyper enough that Harry worried for a few minutes if he was on something hard. Zayn had smoked pot even when they were kids in middle school, but he’d always been sure-fire to stay away from the hard stuff, and he’d nearly gone ballistic when he found out Harry had tried some. Harry remembered Zayn getting three days’ suspension for beating up Siva, the severe-looking, greasy friend, Max’s right-hand man through Harry’s freshman year, when he found out Siva was behind Harry getting drugs.

Tuesday, when Harry came in, Zayn was very…zen, sort of. Actually, he was acting like Raven from That’s So Raven when she was pretending to be the opening act for that vegetarian singer Chelsea hired. Harry half-expected him to start singing about celery.

So, on Wednesday, when Harry came into work, he went straight to his room and didn’t come out except when he wanted someone to tattoo. At lunch, Harry came out a little nervously, but Zayn was nowhere to be found, and Harry was getting a little irritated. It was the third day in a row he’d blown Harry off, and Harry had no idea what he could’ve possibly done wrong. He went to lunch alone, texting Louis during it and avoiding awkward looks from Jade.

When he was finishing up his chicken, Harry’s phone vibrated with an unknown number. hey stole ur number from loulous phone hope you don’t mind, its lottie.

Harry chewed his lip as he read it. Was it awkward to text your boyfriend’s little sister? Was that pedophile-ish? Obviously, Harry knew he wasn’t attracted to Lottie, or anything, but he didn’t… Or was it rude to ignore her? How would Louis feel if Harry didn’t text his little sister back? If the roles were reversed, Harry wouldn’t really care unless it pissed Gemma off. Being ignored would do it, though.

Finally, Harry texted back. No, I don’t mind. Do you think he would though? I’m not getting on a pregnant man’s shit list for anyone!

LOL no he doesn’t ever mind hell be fine. Just wanted to say thank you, what you said was really nice and it was really cool of you to say that even though you didn’t want to talk to me

Harry frowned when he read Lottie’s next message. She thought he hadn’t wanted to talk to her? Why do you say that? I had a really nice time and you were great, I didn’t have a problem talking to you! I’m just a really shitty conversationalist, sorry. Plus Louis wasn’t exaggerating, my family’s only got one other kid and I was kind of nervous!

Lottie took a while to text back, and Harry had to get back to his office, so he sent out, Seriously, I mean it. You guys are really really great. and paid.

Harry thought about the exchange the entire time, a little frustrated. He thought he’d done well at the Tomlinsons’, but apparently, he’d made everyone feel like he hadn’t wanted to be there at all. He’d have to talk to Louis about it and figure out a way to make them see that he didn’t hate them all. He probably wouldn’t ever be best friends with any of them, but he found he really did enjoy kids – the Tomlinson kids, in particular – and Mark and Jay were perfectly kind in a way that didn’t feel false or overly forced, like they weren’t worried about Harry defiling Louis or ruining him, or anything.

Harry stayed in a funk the rest of his shift, turning his music up too loud to really talk to his clients. He knew it was rude, and his tips were shitty and low because of it, but he didn’t really care. Harry was cleaning up his room when Zayn knocked on the door.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Harry asked, and Zayn stepped in, closing the door behind him. He didn’t bother with angry questions like Where the fuck have you been? or Why have you been avoiding me?. Zayn would tell him when he was ready, and not a second before.

“Nothing much,” he answered, fingers a little twitchy like he wanted a cigarette. “Just wanted to see how you and Louis are. You know, it’s stressful, and stuff, I get it. But, uh, you’re – you’re good, right?”

Harry nodded warily. “Yeah, for now,” he said. “He’s waiting for me at my place, actually, so…”

It was a clear dismissal, but Zayn chose not to take it, sighing instead. “Listen,” he said, “I know we don’t really, like, do serious, deep discussions, but I just. I think the baby thing is making me feel kind of weird.”

He didn’t elaborate, and Harry found himself getting a little irate. “Uh, okay. Sorry my unborn child is getting on your fucking nerves, bro. Is that all you wanted? ‘Cause you can get out of here, with that shit. It’s terrifying enough as it is without you being a dick.”

Zayn sighed, though, instead of rising to the bait, and shook his head. “Bro, I didn’t mean it bad. I mean, like, you having a kid is making me feel like I need to have a real conversation with you. About, like, us. Our friendship, you know?”

He didn’t. Harry didn’t know. He nodded anyway.

“So, I just – like, I wanted to tell you, I’m gonna stop smoking pot, for good. And get serious about being a better person. I want you to trust me.”

Harry scratched at his nose, and then the back of his neck. The hair on his arms stood up. He was distinctly uncomfortable with this conversation already. “Bro, man, I – I do trust you. Like, you’re right there with Gems; you’re my best friend.”

Zayn smiled a little at that confession, but he nodded like he was reassuring himself. “Right,” he said, “but I mean – I want you to be able to trust me with your boyfriend. With your baby, when it comes time. I don’t want to hold your newborn baby and, like, freak you the fuck out, or anything. I want to be someone you can trust to, like, babysit, and shit. I don’t know. I just wanted to let you know, I’m seriously here for you. You’re – you’re like my little brother, is all, and, like, I love you.” He coughed, then, and Harry squirmed where he stood. “And, uhm, if you or Louis ever need anything - anything - like, I hope you think to come to me.”

Harry nodded, surprised and uncomfortable as hell, but also really touched. They’d had a very few serious conversations before, like when Harry came out, and Zayn came out a few years later, and when Zayn’s grandfather died and he’d gone off the deep end for a few months, but they’d never talked about their relationship before.

“I – yeah, Zayn. Thank you. That…really, that’s, uhm.” Harry cleared his throat. “You know. That’s – if you’re trying to get my vote as godfather over Niall, you know, you’ve, uh. You’ve got it.”

Zayn laughed, then, sounding overwhelmed and relieved, and to Harry’s horror, he wiped underneath his eyes. “Thanks, bro,” he chuckled. “Hey, I’ll get out of your hair, now. Go on home.”

Harry moved towards the door, but Zayn caught him up in a tight hug, first, thudding his fists against Harry’s back. Harry tensed up as soon as Zayn wrapped his arms around him, but melted a little – enough to sigh and clap his hands over Zayn’s shoulder blade. “Thanks, man,” Harry said a little awkwardly, and then Zayn released him.

In a bit of a daze, Harry walked to his car, unsure of what the fuck had just happened.

---

At their appointment the next day, Dr. Pinnock gave great news. They were doing an ultrasound, focusing on the baby’s heartbeat and head. The computer screen was pointing to Dr. Pinnock, so Harry and Louis couldn’t see, but they heard the heartbeat.

“At your appointment next week, I can scan for the sex of the baby,” she said with a bright smile. She was so expressive; Harry was certain he’d never shown that much excitement on his face, like. Ever.

Louis gasped, though, fingers drumming on his stomach, and gripped Harry’s hand tight with the other one. They shared a look, and Harry leaned down to kiss him hard. “I love you,” he said quietly, uncomfortable with Dr. Pinnock right there, but he felt like he needed to say it.

“Oh, Harry, can we invite Mom and Dad down? And your parents, too! Can we – can we have everyone over, and reveal the baby’s gender to them? Please? Like, next weekend, or something? Maybe even Gemma could come see you play, or something, wouldn’t that be insane? Please, can we have them over?”

Harry laughed at Louis tripping over his words and nodded. “Of course,” he said. “We can call them as soon as we leave.”

“Would you like to see the baby’s head?” Dr. Pinnock asked, and Louis squeezed Harry’s hand as he nodded.

Dr. Pinnock turned the screen over, showing it to Harry, and placed her hand on the mouse, wiggling the pointer around in a circle. “So, that’s the baby’s heartbeat, do you see that flickering?” There was a tiny spot on the screen that flickered between dark gray and white, and it was nearly double time to Louis’. “Heartbeat’s strong,” she commented, and Harry felt the tightness in his chest ease tenfold. “Those are the arms, right there. Fingers are still forming, so it looks a little strange to see the baby’s hands. Legs, right there…and right there.” She turned the screen quickly, moved the monitor a little further over on Louis’ belly. “Back to the face,” she said, turning the screen back to Harry and Louis with an apologetic grin. “It’s habit to move the screen when we go over the genital area, even if it’s not clear yet, sorry. There’s the baby’s face; think it looks like you, Mr. Styles? Or you, Mr. Tomlinson? What’s the consensus?”

Harry let go of Louis’ hand and moved closer to the screen, eyes wide and mouth agape. It was just a tiny little gray and white figure, almost looked like an alien ‘cause its head was so much bigger than its body, but – “That’s my baby?” He asked, a little breathless. Dr. Pinnock nodded and Louis laughed a little wetly. “That’s – can we take pictures of this, is that allowed?”

“I can print the scan off for you,” Dr. Pinnock offered. “If you take it with your phone, it’ll make the screen fuzz a little bit, and it won’t look good at all, trust me. Here –” Dr. Pinnock moved the mouse over to the side and clicked a few buttons, and smiled, satisfied. “I’ll have Perrie run it out to you after we’re done, here.”

Harry looked back to Louis, feeling amazed.

“I love you,” Louis said, and Harry stumbled back to him.

Avoiding the goo on Louis’ stomach, Harry hugged him and tucked his face, trying to keep from smearing his makeup all over Louis’ work shirt, since he had to go back after the appointment. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry and dug his fingers into Harry’s curls, breathing heavily. He laughed loudly in Harry’s ear.

“The baby’s all healthy, right?” Louis asked, and Harry straightened up to watch Dr. Pinnock’s face when she scanned over the charts, making that clicking noise with her tongue.

“It looks like it,” she said, nodding, flipping through pages and pages of papers. “You opted out of the Downs Syndrome scan, but everything else is coming up negative – like spina bifida, for example, or brain abnormalities. The baby seems to be developing pretty normally. It’s a little behind on…” she pressed the scanner-thing over Louis’ belly again. “Liver development. It’s a little behind on liver development, but it’s pretty usual for children of male pregnancies to sort of pick an organ and go a little slow on it. They usually speed up towards the end. You might have to watch the baby’s liver for a few years, just sort of keep an eye on it, but as far as organs to be behind on, the liver’s pretty lucky. Keep your child on a healthy diet and regular exercise for a child, and you probably won’t ever have problems. Once they’re older, you’ll be able to get a good reading on it.”

Harry and Louis nodded dumbly. Why didn’t Harry ever remember to bring a notepad? He felt like these were things he should be writing down.

“Don’t look so down,” Dr. Pinnock smiled. “I’m legally obligated to tell you things like that. Like I said, they almost always right themselves before the baby’s even born. I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if the baby was nearly caught up by the time you come in next week for the scan. I really doubt you’ll have any problems, okay? Your baby is incredibly healthy. And big.”

Harry and Louis relaxed immeasurably at that. Still, Louis asked, “Is there anything I could be doing to help the little thing? I mean, like, as far as diet and exercise, or, like, stress level. Should I not be working? I don’t…” He looked a little helplessly at Harry, and then back to Dr. Pinnock.

“Other than eating organically and not running – if you want to exercise, I suggest swimming, yoga, or walking. Running in and of itself won’t hurt the baby, but you always increase the risk of falling and hurting it the faster or more intensively you work out.”

Louis wrinkled his nose. “Do I have to eat organically? Like, is it okay that I’m just not eating as much processed food? Harry’s been reading this book – Dr. Shell, or something –”

“Dr. Shelley,” Harry corrected.

“Yeah, Shelley,” Louis continued. “And, like, apparently he’s been made into the new God, or something.”

Dr. Pinnock laughed when Harry scowled playfully at Louis. “Dr. Shelley’s one of the best doctors in the field,” she said, nodding. “He’s great. If he’s written it, it’s pretty much the male pregnancy Bible; I’m surprised you were able to find one of his books around. They pretty much fly off the shelves. Even women buy them. I’ve got one, myself. As a doctor, it helps a lot to see what he says.”

Harry felt much better after hearing Dr. Pinnock reassure him and validate his devotion to Dr. Shelley’s book, and they left feeling like they’d ridded themselves of a thousand pounds each, right off their shoulders.

Harry hadn’t even opened the car door for Louis before Louis had his phone to his ear. “Mom? Hey, yeah – you and Dad have to come next weekend…”

---

Harry had rushed to get to the bar as soon as he got off work at the parlor, so he hadn’t been able to speak to Louis at all before he saw him at the counter, asking Ed for a sweet tea.

Harry smiled and waved at his boyfriend, spilling a bit of vodka on the counter and blushing when Louis laughed loudly at him. “How are you today, sunshine?” Louis asked, coming over to sit by Harry’s side.

Harry thanked the man for dropping coins in the tip dish and then sidled over to Louis, looking around for Nick. When he didn’t see his boss, Harry leaned across the counter and kissed Louis. “I’m good,” he smiled. “How was your day?”

Louis sighed. “A little shitty, but better now,” he winked. “Ready to see my sexy boyfriend perform for me.” Harry laughed and thumped Louis on his nose before going to serve more drinks.

When Niall showed up, Harry clocked out, and pulled out a stool for Louis. Zayn was already there, surprisingly, and he gave Harry an awkwardly tight hug before wrapping an arm around Louis’ neck. Harry left Zayn with Louis and headed over to the stage, where Josh was already setting up his drums. Niall handed Harry his guitar, and Harry strapped it up and grabbed his mic stand, smiling widely at the people of the bar. This was where he felt at home, putting on a show with people watching him do what he loved more than anything, his boyfriend standing next to his best friend, both ready and waiting to see what Harry could do.

“Good evening, Otto Bar,” Harry called. “We’re The Masochists; I hope you’re enjoying yourselves tonight. We’re gonna play a few songs for you; I hope that’s alright.”

The crowds were getting bigger every week. The place had been busy as shit all evening, and even now, the doors kept opening and closing with people wandering in, picking a spot and watching The Masochists.

They started off strong and ridiculously sexual, with more Whitesnake, Kitten’s Got Claws and Bad Boys, and then ACDC’s Giving The Dog A Bone. They played Rock You Like A Hurricane and Pour Some Sugar On Me – because surely a sexy show wouldn’t be a sexy show without those two? Harry wanted Louis sweating by the time they got home. They played a slightly bastardized version of Sheena Easton’s Sugar Walls, and then Girls, Girls, Girls and Too Young To Fall In Love by Motley Crue, because Harry loved being able to scream during songs. They sang Dude (Looks Like A Lady) by Aerosmith and Do You Wanna Touch Me by Joan Jett.

Harry looked across the bar and saw Louis sitting, Zayn right next to him, and smiled. Louis waved and blew him a kiss, and Harry turned around promptly to help clean up. He wouldn’t be that sappy boyfriend blowing kisses across a crowded room. He wouldn’t.

---

Louis wasn’t quite as horny as Harry had expected. They’d made it to Harry’s bed without difficulty, and Harry resigned himself to a jack-off the next morning. Before they went to sleep, though, he gave it a try – the worst Louis could say was no.

He crowded up behind Louis and started kissing his neck, trailing his hand up and down Louis’ side. “Wanna?” He asked when Louis made an interested sound, and Louis grinded his hips back.

“Daddy,” Louis said quietly, and Harry nearly groaned out loud.

“Wanna ride Daddy’s cock, baby?” Harry asked, and Louis rolled over, nodding.

Harry twisted around and grabbed the lube from his nightstand and rolled back around, Louis already turned around on his hands and knees, ready for the taking. “You look so good, baby,” Harry moaned, thanking the lord for his lot in life. He dropped the lube and lurched forward, pulling down Louis’ boxers and spreading his cheeks wide.

Harry licked a stripe up Louis’ crack and then drew circles around his rim, making Louis flatten so that his face was against the mattress, not even bothering to hold himself up. Harry licked around Louis’ hole and pressed his tongue slightly inside, feeling Louis making the conscious effort of loosening up. When Harry uncapped the lube, he poured it straight onto Louis’ hole, making him yelp from the sudden temperature shock.

“Warn a guy,” he muttered, and Harry apologized by way of sliding his first knuckle into his hole, earning a grateful (and forgiving, Harry decided) moan from him.

Harry took his time, sucking barely-there marks into Louis’ skin. Harry stroked his own cock, glad he was already prepared to sleep, meaning he was naked, when he sank the second finger slowly into Louis, hearing his whines and being extra careful.

“Alright, baby?” He asked, and Louis nodded, panting against the bed sheets. “What’s your color?”

“Green,” Louis said, whining as he wriggled his hips, trying to get Harry to give him more when Harry pulled his fingers out to the very tips, and sighed happily when Harry slid them back in. “More, though.”

Harry hummed when he started stretching Louis out, getting him ready for his third finger, and he drizzled lube onto his cock when he got there, making a mess all over the sheets but deciding then and there not to give a fuck about it. Louis was enjoying himself, moaning and whining Harry’s name, calling him ‘Daddy’ and asking for more.

“Ready to ride me?” Harry asked, once he decided Louis could take him. Louis nodded, so Harry removed his fingers and flopped over, earning a distracted huff of laughter from Louis for the unnecessary comedy.

Louis straddled Harry and reached down between his legs to grab Harry’s cock, guiding it back to his hole and growling in frustration when he dropped it. Twice.

“I’ll get it, let Daddy get it,” Harry said. “Let Daddy take care of it, yeah?” Harry grabbed his own cock and guided it to Louis’ hole, pressing in slightly, and then let Louis take over, knowing he would get crabby if he thought Harry didn’t think he could do it himself.

Louis sank down slowly with his eyes closed, biting his lip and pulling on it until it turned white, and then letting it go to slowly drop his head back and moan quietly. He rolled his hips a few times before he was all the way seated, selfish and unable to wait for the pleasure.

"So good,” Harry found himself muttering, like a mantra.

Louis finally sank down fully, ass brushing Harry’s balls and both of them moaning. Harry’s fingers were flexing in the sheets, knowing if he held on to Louis’ hips, he’d bruise him, and Louis barely stayed stay for ten seconds before he started bouncing.

He seemed uncomfortable, though, and Harry would have written it off as being tight, but they’d just fucked not five days ago, and Harry wasn’t exactly gentle. On the other hand, he’d been much, much rougher than he was Sunday night, so he didn’t think he could have hurt Louis. Just as Harry was about to stop him and ask, Louis stilled and sighed, looking vaguely upset and pretty embarrassed.

“Can you just not look at me?” He snapped, and Harry did a double-take.

“Uh. What?”

"Like, I know I look like a fucking whale, you can see my double-chin right now and my big, floppy boobs and shit, so I don’t feel sexy and I’d really appreciate it if you just closed your eyes, or something. Fuck, I’m probably crushing you. Can you even fucking breathe?”

Harry deserved a fucking Nobel Peace Prize for not laughing in that moment. As it was, Louis’ discomfort had him squirming on Harry’s cock, which felt amazing to him, apparently, because he kept tightening up like a vice around it, which felt amazing for Harry. It was a struggle not to hold Louis still and fuck up into him on the best of days, but now was the time for Harry to be Serious and Caring.

“Baby, you’re not fat at all,” he began, but Louis just silenced him with a waving hand and an angry look.

“I’m not fishing for compliments, Harry, I’m just – look, just. Forget it. Is there some other way we can do this?” He finally snapped, huffing and angry and embarrassed as he rose up, removing himself from Harry’s cock.

Harry was pretty sure his dick was crying.

“There’s, uhm, reverse cowgirl?” Harry suggested, and Louis glared at him.

“Honestly, Harry, I’m not from the Wild Wild West. I live in Manhattan.”

“It’s not – I mean, you don’t need, like…a lasso, or anything,” Harry mumbled, a little taken aback. They’d done reverse cowgirl before. “Want to go on your back?”

“Oh, so you can literally see every single bit of weight I’ve gained since you got me pregnant?” Louis snapped, stroking his own cock.

“I could get behind you. Or, like, on your side."

Louis huffed, standing up and walking to the bathroom. “Fuck it. I’ll just go and fuck my hand in your bathroom like a teenager.”

Harry watched him go, his cock aching and flushed, and collapsed back onto his mattress, sighing. Well, he’d wanted a sexual experience. That was…certainly a new one.

---

(Louis came back ten minutes later and crawled into bed sheepishly. He apologized and gave Harry a make-up blow job for his troubles.)

---

Harry woke up a few days later to a sharp prodding on his hip and Louis repeating his name, sounding nearly in tears.

“Harry, please wake up,” Louis sniffed, his voice breaking. It took Harry a few seconds to realize, but he blinked awake and noticed Louis was sitting up, one hand fisted tightly in the hairline of his own head and the other poking Harry’s side, face screwed up.

“What’s wrong, where’s it hurt?” Harry asked, suddenly sitting up and taking Louis’ face in his hands. “What’s the matter, Lou?” He asked, blinking away the sleep as he pried Louis’ hand away from his face so he didn’t give himself a bald spot.

Louis shook his head and his lip quivered a little. “Harry, I’m – I’m hungry,” he said shakily, and Harry blinked.

“I – uhm, okay. Lou, babe, you – I told you, you’re welcome to anything in the kitchen; you don’t have to – you can just have whatever you want; it’s fine.”

Louis shook his head, though, and one short sob came from his tight lips. “You don’t have them,” he said sadly.

“Have what?” Harry asked, rubbing Louis’ cheek softly. “What do you want, babe? I’ll – what time is it?” Harry inwardly groaned when he saw the time: it was nearly three in the morning. “Baby, you have to be up in a few hours for work, anyway; just wait until then, okay?”

Louis sniffled, but as Harry watched, he nodded. When Harry moved closer to kiss his forehead, though, Louis let out a few sobs and, embarrassed, put his face into his hands so Harry wouldn’t be able to see. “I’m sorry,” he said, muffled, “I don’t even – go back to sleep; I’ll just…I’m okay, I think it’s just the – the hormones.”

“Lou…” Harry was torn. He really wanted to go back to sleep, but he didn’t want to leave Louis crying. At the same time, he knew Louis was prideful and he really didn’t want to stay awake and around to make him uncomfortable by watching him cry, but he really didn’t want Louis to cry alone. However, he didn’t want to get up and go to a store for something, but he certainly knew it was his dick that had technically created this entire situation, so maybe he was supposed to be running all of Louis’ errands and catering to his cravings.

Harry wanted to punch himself when Louis made a whiny nose in the back of his throat, eyebrows furrowed and trying not to cry too loudly.

“Louis, come here, babe,” he nearly cooed, opening his arms and letting Louis lean in close and bury his face in Harry’s neck. “What are you wanting? What’s got you awake at three in the morning, crying?”

“I’m not crying,” Louis lied, and he must have realized his face was showing that he was emotional, because his lip quivered while his cheeks blushed and he tried to pull away again.

Harry kept his arms around Louis, though, petting down Louis’ spine over his shirt, and waited until Louis settled again. “What is it?” He asked once more.

Louis took a shuddery breath and ducked his head even more so Harry could only see his hair if he looked down, and said slowly, “So, I – was having this dream, right, and there was, like, this, uhm. This big pickle – don’t laugh – and it was, like, floating after this hot dog. But, so, the hot dog jumped over this fence, and so – and then, but the pickle couldn’t jump that high, ‘cause it was fat and bumpy, like one of those really good pickles like that – why are you laughing?”

“No, I’m sorry, no, go ahead, I’m listening. Your – breath was tickling my collarbone,” Harry lied on the fly, and Louis muttered an apology and shifted his head a little.

“So, uhm, right. So, it didn’t make it over the fence and fell through it, like that one Spongebob episode, and it got sliced right up and landed on the hot dog.”

Louis finished his story and settled back down, leaving Harry scrambling to make sense of it. “So, that’s your craving?” He asked, a little underwhelmed. “You just want a hot dog with sliced pickles on it?” Harry totally had pickles and hot dogs in his fridge.

“And sauerkraut ,” Louis added promptly. Harry tried not to gag at the thought.

He wanted to ask where sauerkraut came from in the dream, but he really didn’t want to get an answer. “Oh,” he said, trying not to mentally whine. He got Louis and himself into this situation – this miraculous, warm, if sometimes gag-worthy situation – and he would take care of Louis. “I – uhm, alright, I’ll…let me get some clothes on, and I’ll be right back, okay?” He held back a sigh as he slid out of the bed, reaching for his jeans on the floor.

Louis curled up in a little ball and nodded, looking small and embarrassed. “Hurry back,” he said quietly, and Harry paused in zipping his pants up.

“Of course,” Harry answered, and leaned down to kiss Louis’ temple.

---

For the past week, Louis had been talking nonstop about the coming weekend, when Harry’s family and his own family would be coming down. He’d spent hours of free time planning fun things to do to keep everyone entertained in ways that would create a non-stressed environment in which their families could get to know each other and have a good time. Half of Louis’ family were planning to stay in a hotel room, and the other half would take the bedrooms at Louis' place. Harry’s parents and Gemma were planning to stay at Harry’s, his parents taking Harry’s bed and Harry and Gemma camping out in the living room.

When Jay ended up calling Friday night after the show, saying she wouldn’t able to make the announcement of the sex, Louis had been heartbroken. As a complete momma’s boy, Louis loved his mother and felt close to his mother with a deep-seated, ingrained need, and when Louis had opened the voicemail she’d left him, he’d fallen into a melancholy state.

That night, Harry had been sitting on Louis’ bed, powering through the next chapter of Months of Changes, and Louis had come in just as Harry wrote down a few notes. Louis hadn’t answered Harry’s half-hearted greeting, so Harry turned around and glanced at him, questioning.

Louis looked heartbroken, and Harry immediately dog-eared the page and tossed the book to the floor. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, concerned. He pulled himself under the covers to be closer to Louis and rested on hand on Louis’ bump, letting Louis turn and rest his head on Harry’s chest. “What is it?”

“Mom’s not coming tomorrow,” Louis said, and even though his voice was muffled against his chest, Harry heard the dejection and felt it down his spine for Louis.

“Oh, Lou,” he said on a sigh. “I’m sorry, babe.” There wasn’t much else he could say; Louis had been really looking forward to seeing his mom and sisters and brother, even though his dad had already apologized and said he wouldn’t be able to take leave for the baby’s actual birth if he took leave for anything else. Louis’ mom had been gushing in excitement, shooting Louis practically over the moon in it, and now, she wasn’t coming. “Why not?”

Louis burrowed his face into the crook of Harry’s neck and said something in a teary whine, and Harry brushed fingers through his hair.

“What was that?” Harry asked, leaning his head closer to try and decipher the emotional words.

“Lottie and Felicite have fever,” he nearly wailed, making Harry jump and then cringe.

“Oh, are they alright?” Harry asked, figuring that was why Louis was upset, but Louis shrugged petulantly. “What – are they in the hospital, or anything?” Harry soldiered on, trying to figure everything out, but Louis only sobbed. “Louis, babe,” Harry said, and cut himself off, not sure where to go from here. Instead, he just hummed and mumbled sympathetic-sounding things, patting gently at Louis’ back and rubbing his hand over the bump pressing against his side, where Louis was curling into him.

“They’ll be fine,” Louis sniffled eventually.

“Then, why are you crying?” Harry asked, completely bewildered, and Louis ducked his head again. “No, Louis, please don’t –”

“Because I’m a horrible brother!” Louis cried, wiping snot on the collar of Harry’s shirt.

Harry was absolutely repulsed. He was. Snot was disgusting; crying, overemotional Louis was not cute. Not at all.

Clearing his throat, Harry asked tentatively, “What makes you a horrible brother, Louis?”

Louis sniffled and mumbled tearfully against Harry’s neck, but Harry made out enough to understand Louis’ guilt: he wanted Jay to come, anyway.

“Lou,” Harry said, trying not to laugh even though he was pitying Louis. He kept patting Louis’ back. “Those are the oldest two. There’s nobody there to take care of them if Jay comes, babe. If it were the girl twins, maybe she could leave the older four, but…sweetheart, don’t cry…”

Harry gave up trying to talk Louis out of it and patted and hummed with him until Louis fell asleep, mouth open and snot drying on Harry’s neck disgustingly, his collarbones feeling caked with tears and hot breath. Louis slept with a death grip around Harry’s torso, so he tried not to move around too much as he fought to get comfortable around him.

---

The next day, Gemma, Anne, and Robin would be coming, as they had all managed to take some time off – Gemma had taken two days, and Anne and Robin had managed to take one.

Harry’s parents arrived earlier in the morning, though, causing Harry to wake with a start. Louis groaned irritably as Harry pulled his nasty shirt off and answered the door bare-chested; it was nothing his parents hadn’t seen.

“Oh,” Harry’s mom said when he answered the door, and Harry wanted to smack his forehead against it. He’d forgotten to take care of his makeup; not only was it on, it was smeared and messy, making it look even worse, and Harry’s mom really wasn’t a fan of the body modification, even after all these years. Not to mention, all his piercings were in.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized, a little hollow. “Forgot. You guys came early,” he said, hugging Robin and kissing his mom’s cheek. “Safe trip?”

“It was fine,” Robin said, a tad too loud, and grimaced apologetically when Harry shushed him frantically. “We got up a few hours earlier, so we’d have a little more time to spend. But if you’re still asleep, we wouldn’t mind getting a few extra hours in, ourselves, to make up.”

“That’s right,” Anne said, hugging Harry tightly. “We barely got to know Louis at all, what with so much news to digest and only the one day you guys came to stay…You don’t mind, do you, sweetheart?”

“Of course not,” Harry said truthfully, genuinely touched that they wanted to know Louis, despite not even having known Harry was gay until a few weeks ago. He smiled, a big smile, and kissed both their cheeks. “Here, let me get your stuff,” he said, slinging the bag Robin was holding over his shoulder, and leading the way. “Lou’s got a spare bedroom, it’s just this way. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Can I get you guys anything?” Harry asked over his shoulder, still quietly, as he led the way through Louis’ apartment to the guest bedroom.

“No, we’re fine, Bud,” Robin said behind him. “You look dead on your feet, and Louis’ obviously still sleeping; why don’t you go on back to bed? We’ll just catch up on a few hours or watch TV quietly until someone wakes up. We can go to lunch when Gems gets here.”

Harry smiled gratefully; he was exhausted. “Thanks,” he said. “Sleep tight.” He turned to leave, but at the last moment, paused. He turned around and looked his parents in the eyes and said, slowly and deliberately, “I’m really glad you guys are here. It means a lot to both of us.” Harry’s mom looked like she might have teared up, so Harry left, then, too tired to deal with any more water works that didn’t belong to the man who was carrying his child.

Harry slipped into bed again with Louis, who whined in his sleep and rolled over closer as soon as he felt Harry’s body heat. Harry kissed his temple and wrapped his arms around him, drifting to sleep easy as ever.

---

A few hours later, Louis watched as Harry wiped his face with a wet cloth in front of Louis’ mirror, carefully removing any trace of makeup from his skin. “I just don’t get it,” he said for the third time, and Harry sighed.

“Lou, babe, I know it’s weird, but can you please just…I don’t want to talk about it, not right now. Can we please drop it?” Harry felt himself numbing as he pulled out the hoops that almost permanently sat in his lower lip, replacing them with clear spacer studs. While he did the same for each piercing, only leaving a small, glinting stud in his nostril, Louis stayed quiet. “I just want a nice visit. We’ve been waiting three days with that sonogram; I just really want this to be a spectacular day.”

“Why aren’t you taking that one out?” He asked finally, nodding to where Harry was touching the nose ring.

Harry smiled. “This was my first piercing,” he explained, remembering how proud he’d felt when he came home with a swollen, red, and hurting nose, a piece of metal making his mom freak out. “Before any of my tattoos or makeup, this was the very first change I made to myself. My mom might not be a fan of all the metal and makeup, but she can deal with one tiny reminder that I’m not a sweet, silently-angry fourteen-year-old anymore.”

Harry talked big, but he knew Louis could sense the sadness in his tone, because Louis silently stood and came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Harry’s stomach and kissing his shoulder. “I think you’re beautiful no matter what, but my favorite you is the you who’s comfortable with himself.”

A little stunned, Harry turned around in Louis’ arms, looking him in the eye. “You don’t think I look better or worse like this?” He asked, not sure if he should believe it yet. But Louis shook his head.

“I like you best when you’re comfortable. When you feel like you. I don’t think you need makeup or metal rings to be your best you – I think that’s something that’s down in your heart – but I like all the yous. I like you how you normally are, all body jewelry and makeup and a mic on stage, and I like you with smeared makeup and messy hair and your rings all pushed strange from sleep, and I like you with your prettiest bling and best makeup for fancy things. And I like you with no makeup, almost no rings, ready to go be soft and patient for the sake of your family.” Louis stood on his toes to kiss Harry gently, and Harry decided to blame Louis for the tears that stayed behind his eyelids. The pregnancy hormones were probably contagious, or something.

But Louis was frowning when Harry opened his eyes back up, and Harry pushed the crease between Louis’ eyes with his thumb. “What?” He asked, frowning as well, and Louis shook his head.

“I just wish you didn’t feel like you have to change your appearance for a family who already accepts that you’re a singer, a tattoo artist, and a gay father-to-be. They obviously love you and accept you, babe, but they’re never going to get used to the way you look unless you let them.”

Harry bit his lip and immediately regretted it; the stud didn’t feel so good when he pinched it with his teeth, rather than resting on the edge of the hoop, like they normally did. Louis was looking at him expectantly, though, so Harry nodded. “I’ll – think about it, okay?” He hedged, and Louis sighed, smiling as he hugged Harry.

“That’s all I ask,” he said.

Holding hands for a united front, Harry and Louis left their room and headed to the living room, where they saw Robin asleep on the couch, Anne reading a book next to him while the TV played softly.

“Hi, Mrs. Twist,” Louis said respectfully. “Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?”

Anne tossed down the book and stood, turning and rushing to Louis. “Oh, Louis, honey, you look fantastic! Don’t worry about getting me anything, darling; Harry can make me my tea, couldn’t you, baby?” Harry nodded and left for the kitchen, smiling as he listened to his mom fawn over Louis.

“Oh, darling, that baby bump is just delicious! Has Harry been taking good care of you? Yes? Oh, that’s so good to know. I’m so glad I raised that boy right, then. Tell me, how are you feeling?”

Louis sounded nervous, even though Harry’s mom was clearly in love, and Harry tried to rush through his mom’s morning tea by sheer will, so he could go be with him. It didn’t work. “Oh, I-I’m okay,” Louis said, a little shaky. “Uhm, I’m not really having any morning sickness, which made me nervous, but, uhm. Apparently the book Harry’s been reading says that’s –”

“Harry’s been reading?” Harry heard his mom ask a little shrilly, and Robin grunted suddenly, probably startled awake by her pitch. “Robin, Harry’s been reading pregnancy books to take care of Louis!” She sounded emotional, again, and Harry banged his head on the cabinet next to the stove for a bit.

“Good for him!” Robin said robustly. “Always knew our boy’d make a good dad.”

Harry puffed his chest out in pride in the kitchen, thankful that Robin had his back, but all his bravado faded when Louis laughed a little and asked, “Is that…I mean, is that really that big of a deal for Harry? I mean, I know he doesn’t really read, but…” And, suddenly, Harry was back to wanting to bang his head.

“’Is it a big deal’ – Louis, we used to have to bribe Harry with all that makeup simply to get him to do his assigned reading enough to pass his English classes! Harry is not a reader, so make sure you feel extra special that he’s doing such a sweet thing for you.”

“Oh,” Louis said, voice full of wonder and emotion. He sounded a little overwhelmed, and it was really too early in the morning for that, so Harry shouted.

“Anything she says is a dirty lie!”

Anne squawked and shouted playfully while Robin chuckled and Louis laughed his little bell-laugh, and Harry came in with his mom’s tea and sat down in the chair whose arm Louis was perched on, pulling Louis casually down to sit in his lap.

It was a move Harry’d done a million times in the privacy of their apartments, and a few times in front of Zayn or Niall or Liam, but as soon as they realized Harry’d done in it front of his parents, both Harry and Louis froze, panicking a little and staring at his parents to gauge their reaction.

Anne’s smile was a little shaky, but Robin barely blinked an eyelash, and Harry relaxed with a sigh of relief, prompting Louis to relax into Harry’s hold.

They chatted and caught up, not talking about anything important, since Gemma hadn’t arrived, yet, but discussed Louis’ plan for their day. They’d be looking to see the sex of the baby at dinner, here in Louis’ apartment, but Anne was an antsy person and couldn’t stand to stay still for so long, so they were planning on doing a little bit of shopping or going to one of New York City’s museums.

Harry was trying to sneakily text Jay, to try and set up a Skype call so that she could at least be there in spirit for Louis, when there was a knock on the door.

“Gemma!” Harry shouted excitedly, flat-out running to the door. He could feel Louis staring at him when he yanked open the door to Louis’ apartment, and Gemma stood on the other side. Harry shouted wordlessly, pulling her into a hug and twirling her around.

“Harry!” She shouted back, and as soon as he set her back down, she was shoving him playfully. “Alright, I’ve seen your ugly mug; where’s Louis?”

Louis stepped around the corner, where he’d been peeking to watch, and blushed, scratching at his tummy a little self-consciously. The shy look returning to his face melted Harry’s heart, so he held out his hand for Louis to step up to them.

Louis took the invitation, tucking himself into Harry’s side as tight as possible, and Harry kissed the top of his head. “Gems, this is Louis. Louis, this is my sister, Gemma.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Louis said nervously, holding a hand out, but Gemma slapped it out of the way and pulled Louis into a hug.

“It’s so good to meet you, too, Louis!” She said as she squeezed him tight. “I’ve heard so much about you, Harry’s so –” Harry slapped her a little over the back of the head, shaking his head with wide eyes. He didn’t want Louis to know what he’d been saying on private phone calls to Gemma; he wasn’t ready for it. Thankfully, Gemma caught on quickly, because she continued, “so, so, happy we’ve all finally managed to meet.”

Louis laughed, a little bewildered, and when Gemma finally let go, he retreated back to Harry’s side like a planet in orbit. “The feeling’s mutual between us, I promise,” he said eventually, leaning his head against Harry, now that he knew he was allowed.

“And you,” Gemma said, a little threateningly, reaching up to pop Harry on the forehead with the heel of her hand. “You came out to me through a phone call?! I mean, it’s not as if I didn’t know already, but Jesus, Harry!”

“Hey, it’s a tough thing to do,” Harry defended himself, making Gemma scoff, but Anne broke it up before it could turn serious.

“Alright, children, let’s not fight,” she called, hugging Gemma, happy to see her. “It’s not often we all manage to come together; let’s make this a pleasant day, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry and Gemma answered together exasperatedly, and Louis bit his lip to keep from laughing, so Harry bopped him on the nose.

“Well, I’m starving,” Gemma began loudly, and Harry scoffed.

“When are you not, you fat cow,” he teased, laughing when Gemma just rolled her eyes and punched his arm.

“Just for that, Harry’s buying lunch for the fat cow,” Gemma said, stomping on Harry’s foot indignantly as she walked past him, ready to head out on her own, if she had to.

They spent a wonderful day together. Harry had drawn the line at going out with no makeup on, though he’d compromised between the no-makeup Harry and the usual Harry, for his parents’ sakes, and let Gemma come back into the house and draw on thin eyeliner, light enough that it wouldn’t bother his parents (hopefully) and present enough that he didn’t feel naked. His mom blinked a few times too many to be natural, but Robin shrugged when Harry came back, a little embarrassed by his dependency on makeup for confidence. Louis held his hand, either way.

Louis gradually came out of his shell, even getting comfortable enough to go with Gemma, blushing, to the lingerie section while Harry got stuck looking at I <3 My Grandpa/Grandma stuff with Robin and an overemotional Anne after lunch. When they met back up, everyone had at least one bag, something that made Harry’s eyebrows raise, though Louis didn’t look at him for nearly half an hour.

They browsed toy stores, maternity/paternity stores, and Anne got a card from a maternity photographer she met in some store and gave it to Louis, who whispered to Harry an utter refusal to take any stupid mommy-to-be pictures involving being naked from the waist up, save a cloth wrapped around his belly, or anything similarly ridiculous.

Gemma brought home a bottle of red, and she and Harry started it off alone, since Robin and Anne would be leaving later, and Louis couldn’t drink. Dinner was a happy and loud affair, Louis being bubbly and loud and exciting, and after dessert, Harry, halfway to drunk already, headed to his room to grab his laptop while Louis went to the living room to find where he’d hidden the sonogram. By the time Louis had found it and got back into the dining room, Harry had already set up Skype and was calling Jay.

Louis nearly cried when Jay, Mark, and all Louis’ siblings answered, the camera set halfway across their living room while they all piled carefully on the couch. Lottie and Fliss were on the floor with a pile of tissues around them, looking miserable but trying to be excited, and Louis took in a shaky breath while Harry’s family all watched him try to compose himself. Louis stood next to Harry and his hand, and Harry boldly kissed him, drunk off love he felt, alcohol, and happiness. Together, they opened the sonogram, Harry’s family watching at the table and Louis’ family through a fuzzy webcam.

“It’s a girl!” They shouted, and Harry could have thrown up, he was so happy. Right there, in front of both their families, Harry grabbed Louis’ face and bent down to kiss him thoroughly. Louis forgot all hesitation and wrapped his arms up around Harry’s neck, smiling and laughing into their kiss.

“I’m having a daughter!” Harry shouted, loud enough that the poor neighbors would lodge a complaint. “We’re having a daughter!” He shouted again anyway, straight into Louis’ face. Louis’ eyes were watering, so Harry just kissed him again, his heart soaring at the thought of Louis and a daughter for the rest of his life.

After the news, Harry kept drinking with Gemma, talking to Jay and Mark and, a little, the girls and Ernest, until Jay had to go. She made them promise to come back up as soon as possible, before she left, and Louis took the computer to his room to say goodnight to his parents and siblings while Harry stayed in the kitchen to give him privacy, drinking. Of course, Harry and Gemma both always been sort of lightweights, and the alcohol paired with the excitement of the baby and the happiness of finally seeing each other again added up with very intoxicated siblings by the time Harry’s parents were getting ready to leave.

Harry kept walking up to everyone in the room, giving them hugs and kissing them. “I’m going to be a father,” Harry told Gemma six times. “I’m having a daughter. Look. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Harry kept petting the sonogram awkwardly.

“She’s like a model,” Gemma said about six times. “Seriously. My niece isn’t even born yet, and she’s the prettiest girl in the world.”

“I know, right?!” Harry exclaimed.

“It’s so strange,” Anne mused, when Louis came back into the kitchen, eyes a little red but looking happier than ever. Harry rushed over to him and bragged about his daughter.

“What?” Gemma asked her.

“My babies are all grown up,” Anne said, and Robin wrapped his arm around her waist, “but they’re still thick as thieves and as immature as ever.”

“Hey!” Harry protested, his face red from alcohol and feeling Louis’ attention fixated on him.

“I ser- I resent that!” Gemma said, smiling smugly as she said the word right. “We are bright, beautiful, young, and talented individuals, Mom; you never respected that.”

Harry groaned, remembering when Gemma said that for the first time. They had been just kids, and stumbled upon their mom’s old music, and Harry had looked up the songs and found Salt-N-Pepa videos. “Gems, no,” he groaned, even as he laughed, and Anne fluttered her arms excitedly.

“Robin! Robin, go bring your phone, darling!” She said, and Robin hauled himself up, laughing, while Anne pulled Louis gently down into a chair. “Watch what they can do,” she said, loud enough for Harry to hear.

“Oh, God,” Harry groaned, and Gemma just jumped up excitedly and cleared a space for them.

“Remember all the moves?” She asked, and Harry scoffed.

“Of course, I do,” Harry said, almost offended. “I still have to be the small one, though, or I’ll ruin it.”

“What’s going on?” Louis asked, laughing, and Harry rushed over and kissed him, like once he’d started, he couldn’t go five minutes without.

“You’re about to witness the best dance routine to ever be seen,” he said dramatically, backing away as Robin came back, Push It already loaded on his iPod app.

“Ready?” He asked and Harry looked to Gemma, who nodded, and nodded, himself. Robin pressed play.

“Ahh. Push it,” played from the speakers, and Louis gasped as Harry and Gemma started clapping their hands over their heads, wiggling their hips.

“Oh, my God, this is the best day of my life,” he said, already laughing.

Harry took two steps forward, facing Gemma, and hunched his back, wiggling, and then another quick two steps, arching his back and wiggling, Gemma doing the mirror image on the other side of the dining room. After another beat, they met up and faced Louis, Anne, and Robin, smiling, and started humping the air and throwing their hands forward, jumping up and circling their hips.

“Oh, my God,” Louis said again, when they threw their hands up in the air, circling their hips again as they let their arms fall slowly.

“Oooh, baby, baby,” the siblings sang, Harry’s voice going high and squeaky in what he felt was a very sexy sound. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Harry said, laughing, while Gemma took care of another baby, baby.

“They know the whole dance,” Harry saw his mom whisper into Louis’ ear, just as he and Gemma dropped into a squat, smiling up, and then jumped up again. They gyrated their hips, wiggling and thrusting and punching the air, and Harry’s grin felt like it’d take over his entire face as the threw back to his childhood while expecting a child of his own within months.

Harry did the entire dance, just as promised, and Louis gasped for air from laughing so hard when Harry crawled between Gemma’s spread legs while she wiggled her butt, pushing himself up and standing merely inches from her face. He rapped Salt and Peppa’s here several times as he dances, throwing his leg over Gemma while she crouched and then kept dancing, breathless by the time they stopped.

“Push it,” Harry sang, looking dirtily at Louis, like his family wasn’t sitting right next to him. “Push it good.” Harry thrust extra hard, and Louis blushed, making Gemma laugh hysterically until she couldn’t even sing with him.

Harry and Gemma both slipped a few times on the tile while they spun and stomped, and Harry nearly busted his butt when he dropped back onto a hand between his legs, but he ow!ed and did his hip thrust in the right time, so he was proud. He shook his hips and arms and thrust his chest out all right, and when it came time to put his hands behind his head and circle his hips slowly again, he winked at Louis and licked his lips.

“Yo, yo, yo, yo, baby Pop, yeah, you, come here – give me a kiss!” Harry said, rushing over to Louis and grabbing his arm, pulling him to stand.

He didn’t expect Louis to go with it, but he did, licking dirtily into his mouth while Gemma sang the next line, something about getting pissed.

“Can’t you hear the music pumping hard, like I wish you would? Now, push it.” Louis laughed, his face bright red, and thrust a few times in the air before pushing Harry away and sitting down, hiding his face for a few seconds. “Push it good.”

Harry laughed while Gemma sang a few lines, and then dropped to lean back on his hands, thrusting up at the air, where Gemma shook her butt, and then he walked away, to the other side of the “stage” while Gemma did the same thing.

Harry felt like he’d pass out if he danced another second, by the time the song started ending, so he crawled on his hands and knees towards Louis, who watched him as he shook with laughter. When Harry reached Louis, he smiled tiredly and kissed his knee, and then sat high on his own knees while Louis leaned down to kiss him for real. It was messy, and Louis was still laughing while Harry was gasping for air, and Harry ended it by flopping his head down on Louis’ thigh, breathing in his familiar-by-now smell. The song ended and Louis, Anne, Robin, and Gemma all clapped and cheered, Gemma grabbing Harry’s shoulders and shaking him excitedly before kissing his cheek soundly. Several times, he heard Louis’ bell-laughter, and he palmed Louis’ noticeable bump, thinking of the little girl growing inside of him, and he thought there was no way he could ever be happier.

“Little baby Ava Grace,” Harry mumbled. “I love you.”

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