Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

CHAPTER ONE: LOUIS

Almost fourteen years ago, when his soon-to-be-ex girlfriend told him that she was pregnant, Louis had no idea how dramatically his life would change. He did, however, know one thing: parenting his kid would probably result in spending a lot of time waiting in the car for footie practice to end.

Now, he would never force his child to play football. But Josette took to the sport like a fish to water, kicking a football around the park the instant she could walk. Sure, he bought the football and taught Jo how to dribble, but she was the one who begged to join a football league the instant she was of age. He only encouraged said love, and at the age of thirteen, Jo can easily outplay both his present thirty-six-year-old self and the idea of his past thirteen-year-old self.

But parenting, as he’s come to find, is not just reveling in your children’s talents and sharing in your favorite activities. Parenting also means having to steer the wheel towards hard conversations, especially when your child is not just a teenager, but also on the verge of presenting as an alpha. Louis likes to think that he and Jo have a very open and honest relationship, and they’ve definitely managed to push through a few sex talks already, but it’s time for them to talk alpha-to-alpha.

Louis is orchestrating that talk in the car. So she doesn’t run away.

And also so he doesn’t run away. He’s been practicing this conversation in the mirror, for Christ’s sake. He called his mum last week for advice, and he needs to bite the bullet and talk to Jo before he loses his courage. Or, god forbid, she presents .

He knows sex, puberty, and presentation should not be taboo. He’s tried to parent in a shame-free, sex-positive way, but even as a pediatric therapist, it’s still his first time parenting his own kid. He has the tools, and he just needs to fucking use them . Why is it that he can talk about difficult topics with his clients five days a week, but when it comes to his own daughter, a simple talk about presentation makes him almost as nervous as telling his mum that he got someone pregnant? It’s arse-backwards, and it’s frustrating . Why can’t he just get over himself?

Regardless, he’s resigned himself to doing it today .

Just ten minutes after he arrived at the footie pitch, he spots Jo hauling her bags in the direction of the car. It’s go time.

“Hey, kiddo. How was practice?”

Jo sighs in response as she falls into the passenger’s seat in a flurry of limbs, her dirty cleats clattering to the floor of the car as she toes them off. Louis bites his cheek to avoid reprimanding her for getting mud all over the car again, because honestly, when did he get this obsessive about cleanliness? Thirteen years of parenthood has changed him.

Slinging her feet up onto the dashboard, Louis wrinkles his nose at the post-footie-practice stench he knows all too well. He will comment on this, considering that parenthood hasn’t taken his incessant desire to tease those he loves. “Jesus, love. That’s foul.”

“‘S a sign of hard work.” Jo parrots back his own words of years past, brushing away the pieces of her hair that fell out of her braids. “I’ve smelled worse from your shoes after all you’ve done is run to the grocery store.”

Louis snorts. He knows when he’s beat. “Fair enough. You didn’t answer me, though. How was practice?”

“Eh, same old, same old.” Jo grumbles, flipping through her phone as he pulls out of the parking lot. “We need a new goalie if we want to advance to the postseason this year. No offense to Heather; she’s just… bad . Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Right, love, because I was just about to call her on speed dial. Your complaints are safe with me.”

“I just want to win so badly.” Jo whines, shutting her phone off dramatically. Louis knows that motion well – the I want attention and validation so badly that I’ll very clearly tune back into reality to talk with you about it . “I’m gonna age out of this league soon, and we both know that I’ll probably be second string because of my age –”

“Ah, hey, don’t sell yourself short –”

Jo huffs, crossing her arms. “It’s just a fact , Dad. Even if I’m better than everyone else, they won’t know it until, like… at least two or three weeks into the season.”

“There’s my girl.” Louis chuckles. “Well, there’s no use worrying about things you can’t control. What you can do is keep playing your arse off, which I have no doubt you’ll do.”

“I don’t know how not to.”

Louis nods. “And I’ll be here, cheering you on all the way.” Pausing for appropriate dramatic effect, he glances over at his daughter. “D’you want ice cream?”

Louis hopes she’ll never lose the bright beam that stretches across her face at the mention of her favorite treat. From her first taste of ice cream to age thirteen, her reaction has never changed. “Hell yeah!”

Louis squints at her in half-hearted disapproval, still uncertain of how to navigate the whole my kid is a teenager and swearing is bad but… is it, really? part of parenting. He certainly stopped trying to majorly censor himself years ago, but his hopes for his daughter’s lifestyle are much higher than his hopes for his own.

Nonetheless, he lets it slide, if only because he knows how this afternoon will end. Poor Jo is currently none the wiser. “Get a triple scoop, love. You’ve earned it.”

******

Louis finishes his ice cream much too quickly. Normally, he and Jo both spend awhile at their favorite picnic table before heading back to the car, talking and laughing over their desserts. Tonight, he’d be lying if he said the nerves aren’t getting to him. Jo still has a scoop and a half to go by the time he’s polishing off his cone, listening to his daughter tell him all about the ridiculous in-class assignment the substitute math teacher attempted to proctor today.

By the time they’re back in the car, Jo’s noticed his strange behavior – namely, the distraction and the forced laughter. She turns on him just as soon as he starts the car again, always too perceptive for her own good.

“You’re acting weird, Dad. Did something happen?”

Watching genuine concern mar her features, he instantly backpedals in his plans. “No, love, no. Everything’s fine. But… I did want to talk to you about something.”

So much for keeping his tone of voice neutral. Jo groans, slapping a hand over her eyes. “Dad, no . This is not happening!”

“Josette, it’s a conversation we have to have.” Louis reasons, reassuring himself just as much as his daughter. “I know we’ve talked about anatomy and… sex before, but shit’s going to get real very shortly.”

Jo frowns at him, her face painted a bright red. Louis’ certain his looks worse. “You’ve been to the doctor with me, Dad. They said it’s normal for me to present a bit later, especially if I’m an alpha.”

“I know.” Louis replies gently. “And that’s why we need to talk. A lot changes after presentation – hell, a lot changes during presentation. And if we’re running with the theory that you’re going to present as an alpha, we need to talk about what that means, too.”

“Ugh.” Jo laments, but blessedly doesn’t plug her ears or put up much of a fight. “Do your worst. I know a lot about this already, just so you know. We have health class and the internet.”

Louis swallows down the urge to instantly check her search history. “Not everything you see on the internet is correct, love. That’s why we need to have a chat. And you know I’ll never judge you if you have a question, now or later. I promise.”

“I know, Dad.” Jo whines. “Just get on with it before we both die of embarrassment.”

“Right. Well.” Louis clears his throat, keeping his eyes on the road. “You know the basics, yeah, of how sex works, how babies are made, all of that. You also know what consent is, how to practice it, and how to know the difference between welcome physical intimacy and assault or harassment.”

“Mhm.” Jo affirms, and Louis nods.

“Okay. Let’s say you do present as an alpha.” Louis takes a deep breath in through his nose, exhaling slowly out of his mouth. “You’ll have your first rut before you can go on suppressants – if you want to. We will talk about your options with your doctor when the time comes, and we can do some research together beforehand. But your first rut will be unexpected, and maybe even a bit embarrassing.”

“I know I’ll be really angry at everything.” Jo chimes in, furrowing her brows. “And I know I’m going to want to be alone, right?”

“ Well .” Louis laughs shortly, uncomfortably. “You won’t want to be alone, love. What do you already know about what comes with puberty and secondary gender presentation?”

“I know of like…” Jo waves her hands around in front of her nonsensically. “The changes in my body. I’m getting taller, I’m getting hairier, I’m growing boobs, all of that.”

“You’re right, Jo, but all of those changes are a result of puberty. If you present as an alpha, you’ll experience some very specific changes that are unique to your secondary gender.” Louis pauses before soldiering on. “I’m not going to pretend that you don’t know what it feels like to be… sexually aroused –”

“Dad!”

He ignores her scandalized outburst. “It’s normal, Jo, and nothing to be ashamed of. When you present, if you present as an alpha, your vagina’s going to change when you’re aroused.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jo whimpers, defeated and mortified. “I don’t like hearing you say that word.”

“What, vagina ?” Louis laughs, some of the tension easing in his chest. “It’s just a word, darling. You’re not going to like the rest of this chat if you’re balking at the word vagina .”

Mercifully, Jo giggles. “I really hate that.”

“The quicker you let me talk, the quicker it’ll be over.” Louis retorts, grinning. “Anyway. For cis female alphas, the clitoris enlarges when they’re aroused. Tell me what you remember about mating so I can spare you a review.”

“Alphas have knots and can penetrate their partners. Their knots lock them together while they mate to increase the chance of getting pregnant. Omegas produce slick, and male omegas can penetrate or be penetrated. Cis female omegas can only be penetrated. Only cis female alphas can get pregnant, but both male and female omegas can get pregnant.” Jo reports in a robotic monologue, clearly repeating their earlier conversations and the information she’s learned in health class. When she finishes speaking, she turns an unimpressed look on Louis, as if to say, was that what you wanted?

“Good, love, thank you for humoring me.” Louis assuages, rehearsing his next words from his talks with his mum and the countless internet blogs he’s read. “Like you said, female alphas can penetrate and be penetrated. So, when a female alpha is aroused, their clitoris enlarges into a penis-like organ with a knot.”

“God.” Jo whines, pushing her hands into her eyes as if not seeing Louis will also stop her from hearing him. “Don’t talk to me about knots , please. I –”

“Josette, it’s important to be informed about what happens.” Louis stresses, feeling his palms start to sweat. “Look, darling, I practiced this talk. Just let me get through what I need to get through, and then it’ll all be over. Do you… do you need a break? We can take it a bit slower –”

“Christ, no! Don’t go any slower. I just don’t want to think about knots in any context that has to do with you, Dad.” Jo wrinkles her nose. “No offence.”

“Fair enough, love. You remember the function of knots?”

“Dad, please.” Jo squeaks out, nodding furiously. “I do, I swear, I do. Please .”

“Alright, alright. I trust you. I just want to make sure you’re prepared, because –” He pauses, forcing himself to maintain meaningful eye contact with her. “If you present as an alpha, Jo, this change will happen during your first rut.”

Jo gasps quietly. “Oh, shit.”

Louis doesn’t fault her for that one, either. “Yeah, it’s an adjustment. Unpartnered alphas are alone for their ruts not because they want to be – actually, quite the opposite. It’s basically your body’s first signal to mate, and… you’ll want to. Really badly.”

“Will it hurt, Dad?” Jo asks, voice turned meek. “That sounds painful.”

Louis makes a noise of sympathy. “A bit, love. Your body’s not used to the sensation yet, and the skin around the area is stretching for the first time. But that pain does go away quickly once your hormones kick it into high gear and get focused on mating.”

“Oh, god.” Jo groans, slapping her hand over her eyes. “I’m not – Dad . I’m not ready for this.”

“It is scary at first, love. But your body won’t betray you – it’s meant to happen. And I’ll always be close by just in case.”

Jo wrinkles her nose. “That’s really embarrassing. Please go visit Nan or something during my rut, I don’t know. I just – god , I don’t even want to think about that!”

“I’ll have a box of supplies ready for you ahead of time.” Louis adds, gently dismissing her suggestion. “You can stay in your room as long as you need, and I promise, I do understand what you’re going through. Once you present, we can talk about suppressants and your options there.”

Nodding reluctantly, Jo sighs. “I can’t believe you softened the blow about my vagina changes with ice cream.”

Louis barks out an unexpected laugh at her tone. “Well, Jo, would you rather have had this chat without the ice cream? Because it was happening either way.”

“Point taken. And you didn’t traumatize me, to be fair. So. Good on you, Dad.”

“Hey, thanks! But you don’t know what I have waiting for you when we get home. I could have diagrams.”

“Dad, no.” Jo pleads, groaning. “I understand, I promise. And I’ll ask you if I have any questions, alright? I won’t even go to google first.”

“Damn right you won’t go to google first.” Louis jokes, an edge of seriousness slipping into his tone. “What’s the internet even good for, anyway?”

“Do you want a list?”

“Nope. Rhetorical question, darling.”

“...I really don’t think it is.”

“Well, I’m making it one for my own sake. Let your poor dad live in peace.”

“Speaking of the internet, did you see that video of the two dogs I sent you the other day? They’re so – hey!” Jo points out the window as they turn onto their street. “Look, the new neighbors are moving in!”

Louis follows his daughter’s gaze as he slows the car to a steady roll, unabashedly snooping on the people flitting in and out of the U-Haul parked in the driveway of the house next to theirs. “Seems like it.”

“Did you hear anything about who’s moving in from Mrs. Berks? She always has the good neighborhood gossip.”

Peering into their neighbors’ garage, Louis shakes his head. “Nah, she didn’t have any information. Would’ve told you if I heard.”

Before Louis has the good sense to pick up a little speed and turn into their own driveway, a man walks out of the garage and instantly stares in their direction. With furrowed brows and squinting eyes, Louis instantly registers his confusion as concern over what the hell they’re doing stalled outside of his new home. He also instantly registers the long-legged, curly-haired glory who is their neighbor. Fuck. He can’t look away.

Jo picks up on their (gorgeous) neighbor’s body language in the same instant, whacking Louis’ arm frantically. “Dad, move, we look like creeps!”

“I’m going! I’m going.” Louis insists, pressing the gas a little too hard and jerking the car the last few feet into their driveway. “Jesus, kid. The urgency freaked me out.”

“Sorry for not wanting our new neighbors to think we’re spying on them.” She huffs, throwing open the door the instant Louis puts the car in park.

“We were spying on them a little.” Louis mutters to himself, resigning himself to never having the last word. When he rounds the car, the new neighbor is still standing by the moving van, so Louis figures that now is the time to make amends.

“Hey, mate!” Louis throws his hand up in a wave, Jo’s groan of embarrassment echoing from behind him. She can’t see through him, can she? “‘M Louis, your new neighbor. Welcome home!”

Blessedly, the new neighbor smiles brightly as he crosses his front lawn to meet Louis halfway. At least Louis didn’t immediately fuck up their neighborly relationship by creeping on him in broad daylight. Or at any hour. 

“Nice to meet you! My name’s Harry.” Harry holds out his hand, quirking an eyebrow as he glances over Louis’ shoulder while they shake. “Is that your daughter?”

Realizing that Jo didn’t follow him across the lawn and is instead loitering unhappily by the car, Louis rolls his eyes. “Yes, that’s Josette. Jo for short.” Raising his voice, he gestures behind himself. “Say hi to Harry, darling!”

“Hi, Harry.” Jo calls, sounding more enthused than Louis expected. A win is a win.

“Nice to meet you, Jo.” Harry grins. “Normally I wouldn’t assume your relationship, but she’s a carbon copy of you. It’s a bit uncanny.”

Louis laughs. “Yeah, we get that a lot. Just me and my mini-me, I suppose. D’you have anyone living with you?” Subtle, Louis, subtle .

Harry hums, nodding. “I have a son, Silas. He’s probably just a little younger than Jo. He’s inside with my mum right now – she’s helping us move.”

“Well, if Silas has any interest in footie, I’m sure Jo would be happy to give him a rundown of the local clubs. And how to get involved in the students’ league.” Louis offers, glancing behind himself again. “Wouldn’t you, Jo?”

Leave it to Jo to finally join the conversation once footie’s involved. “Yeah, totally!” She bounds up next to Louis. “It’d be really cool to have a neighbor who wants to do a kick-around once in awhile, if he’d be up for it.”

“Oh, I’m sure he would love that.” Harry agrees. “He’s a bit shy, but I’ll float the idea to him and I’m sure he’ll come around. He loves footie, and while I try to play with him, I’m positively dreadful. He runs circles around me… I think it gets boring.”

Harry giggles to himself, and Louis suddenly feels the need to laugh alongside him. Jo… doesn’t laugh, but instead watches them amusedly. “Well, let me know if you and Silas would like to come over for dinner sometime soon. Once you get settled, of course.”

“That’s so lovely of you, Louis. Thank you.” Harry smiles, reaching up to ruffle his fluffy hair. Louis unabashedly tracks the toned muscle of his forearm, blaming it on studying the tattoos littering his milky skin. There are so many of them, and he’s a tattoo fanatic himself… they’re beautifully done… 

“Have you lived here for a long time?”

Louis nods, clearing his throat. “Yeah, yeah, for about seven years now. We love it, don’t we –”

Upon looking at his daughter, Louis is hit in the face with a wall of projected boredom. He sighs, knowing she’s had a long day in which he’s asked a lot of her. “Love, why don’t you head inside? You’re probably exhausted after practice.”

Jo’s shoulders sag in relief. “Need your keys, Dad.”

“You could’ve used the garage key to get in earlier, Jo. I didn’t mean for you to stand out here the whole time.” Louis apologizes, fishing his keys out of his pocket to hand to her.

“Dad, that’s our secret key! No one’s supposed to know about it!” Jo gasps, eyeing Harry warily. In case of emergencies, they keep an extra house key in their garage underneath a specific flowerpot. Theoretically, no one is supposed to know about it besides Jo, Louis, and his mum and sisters.

Oops .

“Oh, don’t worry, we have one too.” Harry confides seriously. “Your secret’s safe with me, I promise.”

Jo studies him for a long moment before deciding he’s in the clear, accepting the keys from Louis and sending Harry a final smile. “Okay. Nice meeting you, Harry.”

“You too, Jo.” He replies kindly, turning his smile back to Louis. “I will keep that secret; I promise. I know what it’s like to be a single parent.”

Louis sighs, running a hand through his hair absentmindedly. “Yeah, mate, it’s wonderfully hard, isn’t it?”

“Best thing I’ve ever done, but no doubt the most difficult.” Harry agrees. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old were you when Jo was born? I just – we seem the same age is all. I had Silas when I was twenty-four, and he’s ten now.”

“Mm, yeah, we’ve got similar timelines.” Louis nods, curiosity piqued. It’s not every day that you meet a young single parent with a similar life trajectory. Louis knows his story is relatively unique, especially being a male, alpha parent – although by the sounds of it, Harry appears to be Silas’ carrier. “I was twenty-three when Jo was born, and she’s thirteen now, so that makes me thirty-six. Jesus, it’s sometimes easy to forget.”

Harry laughs. “I know, right? There are days where I look at myself in the mirror and expect to see twenty-year-old Harry, you know? Or I’ll wake up in the middle of the night ready to feed a newborn, only to realize that he’s been weaned for over eight years. Christ.”

“So you were Silas’ carrier?” Louis lets his curiosity get the better of him, and while it’s not impolite to ask, it is more private. Really, he’s just interested parent-to-parent. It’s totally separate from whatever butterflies are doing a smug little tango in his stomach with every piece of information he learns about Harry. 

“Yeah, I’m one of those fancy male omegas.” Harry jokes, but Louis can tell that there’s an air of protective caution surrounding his words. It’s entirely understandable – too many people either fetishize or ostracize male omegas, overly concerned about their bodily capabilities and what that means biologically. In Louis’ mind, it doesn’t mean shit to anyone outside of each individual person. But as a therapist, he knows the implications of secondary gender presentations extend far beyond an isolated perception of the self. 

“I’ve got the limited fertility disorder and everything.” Harry continues, rambling through his joke as he continues to make light of himself. “It’s part of why I had Silas so young, you know. But I –” He pauses, pink tinting his cheeks as he ducks his chin. “Ah, shit. I’m totally oversharing, aren’t I?”

Oh, those dimples and those lashes. A devastating combination, made even worse by the very endearing essence of Harry himself. Louis hurries to comfort him, shaking his head earnestly. “No, no. I asked a question that was rather invasive –”

“You did.”

“-- and while I’m not entitled to an answer, you answered graciously. It’s more than I deserve.” Louis retorts. “I overstepped, and I’m sorry. I think I got carried away in my excitement about meeting another young single parent.”

“We’re not obsolete, but we are a bit rare, aren’t we?” Harry remarks. “And really, Louis, it’s alright. I’m an oversharer by nature, and I don’t exactly know why, but I feel comfortable with you. I think it’s because I watched you interact with your daughter. It always makes my heart a bit mushy to see dads who love their kids so openly.”

“Well, I definitely do.” He agrees. “And same to you, Harry. I would like to get to know you more, if you’d be willing to chat. It’s hard enough to make friends as an adult, let alone when you have kids.”

Harry beams, sunshine erupting from his cherubic face. Louis wants to bask in the glow of his warmth. “I’d love that, yeah. It would make me feel better to know my neighbors well anyway, especially with having kids.”

“Absolutely. And I can tell you that the couple on your other side, Ruth and Irene, are a lovely pair of elderly ladies. They dote on Jo like she’s their own granddaughter, and I know they’ll welcome Silas the same way.” Louis grins. “So you’re set on both sides!”

“Hm, those are confident words.” Harry teases, arching a brow. “Ruth and Irene sound wonderful, but this Louis guy… I don’t even know his last name.”

“Tomlinson.” Louis offers with an endeared roll of his eyes. “Louis and Jo Tomlinson.”

“Well, House of Tomlinson. The House of Styles is pleased to make your acquaintance.” Harry sticks out his hand for him to shake in jest. “Can I give you my number? I don’t know when I’ll catch you next with all the chaos of moving.”

“Sure, mate. Go ahead and put it in my phone. I’ll text you so you have mine.” Louis hands over his phone easily. It definitely has more to do with his neighborly hospitality over desperately wanting to explore the world of Harry from an insider’s point of view. “Like I said, we’d love to have you and Silas over for dinner in the next few nights. No rush, considering the moving, but if you don’t have groceries just yet, we could feed you for a night or two.”

“That’s so generous. Since my mum’s here today, we’re going to grab takeout. But maybe another night this week?” Harry replies, typing in his contact information as he speaks. “I also want to give my son a little time to warm up to the idea. Sometimes meeting new people is hard for him, even though he loves making friends once they give him a chance.”

Louis smiles, taking his phone back from Harry. “I totally understand. Whatever the lad is comfortable with.”

“You’re lovely, really.” Harry returns his grin. “I really should get back inside. Everything’s labelled, but I am particular about where things need to go. My mum could be putting the plates in the mug cabinet, and that just won’t do.”

Endeared, Louis laughs at his joking tone. “Right, absolutely not! Can’t have the forks in the spoon slot.”

“Absolutely not.” Harry agrees. “It really was nice meeting you, Louis. Thank you for being so welcoming already.”

“It’s easy, love. I’ll text you, yeah?” Something juvenile and giddy flares in Louis’ chest at his promise, made stronger by the pink flush he swears dusts Harry’s cheeks. But maybe he’s getting ahead of himself – it’s been many years since he’s even had a crush on a person, if that’s really what this foreign feeling turns out to be. He barely knows Harry – people can be charming, pretty, and considerate without having to pique his interest beyond friendship. 

Right? Right.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWO: HARRY

The older Harry gets, the more he realizes that life’s timeline is unique and often out of your control. In his experience, the chaos of life manifests itself not in how it changes your goals, but instead in how it changes the times and processes through which they unfold.

For one, he never imagined himself to be someone who lived long-term in a major city. Growing up in a small town, open swaths of grass and peace without the rush of cars raised him. A gentle pace and the chirping of birds are parts of his lifeblood. 

But life after university landed him in the heart of London in a job that was supposed to be temporary. His dual degree in literature and music brought him to an internship at a small production label that miraculously signed a breakout artist less than three months into Harry’s employment. In order to push out an EP and an album while still riding the high of initial single success, the label called for all hands on deck in the writing room. Thus, Harry – an intern who shadowed everyone but ran next to nothing on his own – suddenly found himself ghostwriting songs alongside the veteran team. Initially, he never expected his songs to be chosen, but the artist insisted that Harry’s writing most aligned with her image.

Two high-charting singles later, and Harry was offered a job before he even finished his final year of university. Immediately after graduation, he started full-time work as a ghostwriter at the label, renting a decently nice flat in the heart of London.

Artists come and go, and while the first artist he wrote for eventually faded into near-oblivion, the demand for Harry’s writing only increased. Soon enough, he was churning out chart-topper after chart-topper for countless artists, earning more money than he had ever anticipated when completing his degree. What he studied was always his passion, and ghostwriting suited him well. He wasn’t cut out for fame and performance – a life of relative anonymity while still receiving recognition for his work strikes a pleasant balance.

And yet, life still found him in London, settling into a life that he never anticipated.

Almost two years later, a single doctor’s appointment changed his life.

It was supposed to be an easy consultation about going on a new, more long-term version of suppressants. While he was in uni, he was on the pill, but was now considering the implant version. The only difference in procedure before being approved was the necessity of a blood test, which Harry had no concerns about. He was a perfectly healthy twenty-three-year-old, and his body responded well to the pill. 

He’s grateful for it now, but he had no idea that they tested for MOLF, or Male Omega Limited Fertility Disorder. He also had no idea that he’d test positive for the condition.

While not a life-threatening condition in any way, the diagnosis still hit Harry hard. Sitting through the talk his doctor gave him – “ It’s not uncommon, Harry, and it’s no threat to your health. It just means your chances of conceiving and carrying are significantly lowered, and will continue to lower with age.” – was a uniquely painful out-of-body experience. Down the line, one of his greatest life goals was to be a mum. From the moment his twelve-year-old self presented as an omega, he was thrilled at the prospect of not just being a parent, but also carrying his child. 

All it took was a ten minute conversation with his doctor for him to decide that he needed to get pregnant now . And thus, he was referred to a fertility specialist who could begin the process of donor selection.

He called his mum once he got home, already certain of his plans. Despite his age, he was uniquely prepared to have a baby – a steady, very well-paying job, a close support system of family and friends, and, most of all, stubbornness in spades. Although his mum did warn him of the massive change he would be enacting, he couldn’t get the prospect of his fading fertility out of his head. 

While his timeline changed in that moment, his goals never wavered. A little over a year later, Silas Cove Styles was welcomed into the world by a very excited young single mum.

After Silas’ birth, Harry vowed not to worry about his diagnosis as much as possible. When he chose to get pregnant with Si, he knew he’d have to put finding a partner on hold for longer than he originally anticipated. Only then, whenever the person he’d want to have more kids with came along, would he return to his fertility specialist with intent to face his potentially low levels.

Ten years later, Harry has no regrets. As he now drives a moving van through the suburbs of London, still near to the city but with the landscape growing increasingly greener, he watches the car in front of him with a heart full of fondness. In the driver’s seat, his mum bobs her head along to whatever song is playing – probably some Shania Twain, knowing her. In the back seat, blonde curls bounce as his son mimics her movements, occasionally throwing out an arm in an enthusiastic dance move.

Harry’s thirty-four, and he’s finally moving out of the city. Not far, mind you, but into a neighborhood with a park and small shops that are lazily frequented by locals instead of passed by thousands of people trying to get where they need to go. The move is sparked by a new job that offers him an even more generous salary, along with flexible work perks. While he does have to report back to the office occasionally, most of the work can be done off-location. He’s still songwriting, but the transition to this new position offers him even more time to be Silas’ mum. 

And maybe even a little more time to be just Harry.

Besides, a slower pace of life will be good for Silas, too. Even though starting at a new school will inevitably be difficult, he hopes that they can find a gentler routine for their family. Change is hard, but he has a feeling that this decision will make the rest of their lives even more comfortable.

Just ten minutes later, both cars pull into the driveway of the home. Harry sighs, letting his eyes slip closed as he takes a few deep breaths, a smile slipping onto his face. The keys to the house are in his purse, most of their large pieces of furniture are already moved in by the movers, and he has a week off from work to get everyone settled.

Goals are met. His family is safe and happy. A new timeline begins.

******

Louis Tomlinson. Harry replays the lilt of his northern accent over and over again in his mind, punctuated by the smile that’s almost as bright as his crystal blue eyes. Harry has always been weak for a man who wears his confidence quietly – it’s not hidden, but it doesn’t define his personality with arrogance. Not to mention the delicious graying tufts of his hair above his ears, his fringe speckled with salt and pepper strands to boot.

And he’s a single dad. Oh, be still his beating heart. 

For all of his daydreaming about relationships and romance and love, Harry’s experience with dating while also parenting is minimal at best. He tends to keep his romantic life very separate from his home life, ever-so protective of Silas’ bubble of safety and comfortability in their home. Over the past ten years, he’s casually gone on dates with a few people, but none have stuck for more than a drink and a quick romp in the bedroom. Really, it’s better that way in the long run. Harry knew he didn’t want to settle down permanently in London, regardless of how much longer his time in the city stretched beyond expectations. Silas was and is always his first priority, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Except for the touch deprivation. It would be nice not to have to depend on his ten-year-old’s cuddles for the sake of his health, no matter how much he cherishes snuggling with his baby.

As always, he takes it in stride. If the touch depri gets worse, there are medications he can start. But Silas has always been enough to soothe him, so he’ll worry about the rest down the line.

When he comes back inside from chatting with Louis, he finds his mum – sure enough – already unpacking the boxes labelled “kitchen.” He knew she would jump right into unpacking.

It’s been approximately two seconds since he entered the house, but he can’t wait any longer. “So, the new neighbor’s nice.” Harry comments offhandedly, busying himself with a nearby box to appear nonchalant. He’s so cool. His voice didn’t even waver.

“Nice?” His mum’s voice filters through from the kitchen as casually as he expected. Win .

Harry hums, pulling a random set of coasters out of the box. Where in the world did these come from? “He has a daughter just a few years older than Silas. Apparently, she’s really into footie and is open to kicking around with Si in the future.”

“Oh, how lovely!” Anne strolls back into the kitchen, a set of bowls cradled in her hands. “Sweetheart, do you have a cabinet – oh .”

Harry freezes, coasters clutched in his hands. “What? What’s wrong?”

A terrifyingly observant smirk materializes across his mother’s face. “Does your new neighbor have a partner, or is it just him and his daughter?”

“No, it’s just him and Jo. Which is why I figured maybe we’d have a lot in common too, you know? Single parents and all. He seemed to think the same – he invited me – well, us – over for dinner sometime.”

“I see. Did you learn his name?”

“Louis.” Harry says easily, a chorus of excited butterflies erupting in his stomach. “And his daughter’s name is Jo.”

“And how cute is he?”

“Oh god –” Harry gushes, about to give into his most honest and earnest instinct and spill all of the juicy details. He realizes that his mother is on the other side of the conversation a second too late, blushing too hard to pretend that he doesn’t actually have an answer. “Mum! You tricked me!”

She chuckles, eyebrows raised. “I just know you, darling. You gravitate towards all the beautiful things life has to offer. It only makes sense that your mystery neighbor would be pretty, too.”

“I can’t develop a crush on my new neighbor, Mum! Think about how awkward that could get!”

“H, I don’t think you have much of a choice in the matter. You haven’t stopped smiling since you said his name.”

Harry huffs, purposely pulling his lips into a deep pout. “Louis is a nice name.”

“Again with the nice .” Anne teases. “If Louis was that nice a name, you would’ve named your son Louis. It probably sounds nicer attached to a handsome man.”

“Pretty sure he’s an alpha, too.” Harry adds. He might as well give in to the gossip. “Could tell by the way he walked.”

“Oh, then you really have no chance, do you?” His mum shakes her head, clucking her tongue. “My, my, darling. I don’t want you to dive in too deep too quickly, yeah?”

“Oh my god, Mum, no.” Harry flushes up to his ears at the implication. “Since when have I ever done that?”

“Love, you decided to have a child on your own at the age of twenty-four.” Anne reminds him, not unkindly. “I know you were financially and emotionally ready, but – Harry, you’ve never done things halfway. It’s something that I love and admire about you, but I am your mother. And I worry.”

Harry finally puts the damned coasters back in the box, crossing the room to pull his mum into a hug. “You know that I’m very careful about my personal life, Mum. I have been since Silas came into the picture. You don’t have to worry about us.”

“Just find a balance.” Anne insists. “Don’t close yourself off to opportunities, but… take them one stepping stone at a time, yeah? I don’t want to sound too much like I’m lecturing you. You’re thirty-four.”

“I think I’ll still be lecturing Silas when he’s thirty-four whether I try to or not.” Harry snorts, kissing her cheek. “It’s alright, Mum. It’s just a little crush – it’s harmless.”

Anne nods. “Once I put these bowls away, I’m going to need to take a break.”

“Oh, of course, Mum. Is it your back again? I can get some medicine from my purse.”

“No, love, I’m alright. I’m just going to get some fresh air.” She says over her shoulder, walking back into the kitchen. “Maybe take a little stroll down the block if you know what I mean.”

Harry groans. He should’ve seen this coming; his mum is a top-tier sneak. “Mum, you can’t go spy on my neighbors! They’ll think I’m weird!”

“I’m not going to spy on all your neighbors. Just Louis.”

“Mum, please —“

“Ah, walking is good for your old mum. Just grant me that one.” She returns from the kitchen, bowls out of her hands.

He sighs, resigned. “Fine. Just don’t look too creepy. I want him to talk to me again.”

“Oh, if anything happens, I’ll just introduce myself!” She says cheerily, set in her plans. “I’ll be back in a bit, love.”

With a kiss to his cheek, his Mum leaves him stranded in his living room, surrounded by boxes. He barely has time to choose which one should provide his next twenty minutes of torture when quick footsteps patter down the stairs, a head of blonde curls appearing in his periphery before he can even look up.

“Mum.” He can tell just by the way Silas grabs his arm that his son is having a hard time today. It’s not easy for any ten-year-old to move houses, but Silas especially thrives in routine. It has to be stressful to move into a place that doesn’t yet smell like him or his mum, not to mention the chaos of moving day. 

Harry abandons the box he was studying in favor of kneeling down to Silas’ level, taking his hands in his. “Hi, baby. You alright?”

“My room is a mess .” He whines, bottom lip poking out in a pout. “I’ve tried putting my books on my bookshelf, but it’s hard to do that in alphabetical order when they’re still kind of in boxes and I can’t see them all at once. And my bed is in a weird place — I think I want it in the other corner, but I need help moving it. I need help, Mum.”

By the time he’s done speaking, Silas’ breath picks up, a clear sign that he’s more than a little distressed and dysregulated. Squeezing his hands, Harry makes sure his voice is calm and gentle, firm in its reassurance. “With me, Si. Bunny breaths. Three sniffs in — one, two, three — slow exhale. Good. Again. Three sniffs in — you’re doing great, love — and out.”

Harry watches the tension visibly drain out of his son’s shoulders. “Let’s make a list together, darling. What order do you want to accomplish your room tasks in?”

Silas hums, mulling over his options. “I think I want my bed moved first, and then I want all of my books out of their boxes. Then I can put them on the shelves.”

“Good plan, Si.” Harry praises. “Would you like my help, or would you like to do it alone?”

“Help, please. I’m not strong enough to move my bed alone.” Silas points out. “And could you scent my pillows when you help me?”

Harry nods, standing back up to full height. “Of course, love. How about you lead the way?”

Even encouraging Silas to lead them through the house helps build a level of comfortability and confidence that he didn’t have this morning when walking into an unfamiliar home, so Harry follows him up the stairs and down the short hallway to his room. Painted a lovely sky blue a few days before they officially moved in, the room boasts all of Silas’ furniture in the exact places he mapped out with colored pencils the week prior. In order to best prepare him for the move, Harry had sat down with him and made a fun craft night out of drawing out the plans for their rooms. Everything seems to be perfectly in place, though apparently the bed is causing some trouble.

Silas marches right over to the bed, currently positioned right underneath a window. “I think I’ll get too much light in the mornings if I keep it here, and I don’t want to have to wear an eye mask. They’re uncomfortable.”

Harry nods in understanding; Silas has a very particular sleep routine as it is, with his sound machine always turned to a specific white noise channel and his three blankets — no more, no less — tucked perfectly around his body. Adding in a sleep mask is an unknown variable that he doesn’t want to add into the mix. 

“That makes sense.” Harry agrees. “Show me where you want me to move it to.”

“Over here.” Silas points to the corner opposite the window. “I know it’s still near the light, but with my curtains, it shouldn’t be too bad. I just don’t want to lay right underneath it.”

Since Silas’ room is carpeted, it’s easy for Harry to push the bedframe and mattress across the wall, settling it in the far corner. Silas watches intently, nodding his approval after a moment’s deliberation. “That’s perfect, Mum. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, love.” Dropping a kiss to his son’s head as he returns to him in the middle of the room, he motions towards the boxes of books. “Why don’t you get started unloading your books while I scent your bedding, yeah?”

“Okay! I think I’m going to sort them by letter, then order them alphabetically when I put each letter category on the shelves.” Silas decides. “And then I’ll leave a shelf for my art supplies.”

“Good idea, honey.” Starting with Silas’ pillows, he rubs over the soft fabric in a methodical pattern – both wrists, then under his neck. “How are you feeling about starting school next week?”

“I’m excited to meet my teachers.” Silas responds predictably. Despite his hesitations in befriending his peers, he usually takes to his teachers quickly. Sometimes, the other kids are more overstimulating than the adults. “And I’m excited for footie. You said I could join the team here, right, Mum?”

Finished with the pillows, Harry turns to the duvet. “‘Course, love. Speaking of footie, I met our new neighbors. The girl next door is only a little older than you, and she loves footie. She said she’d like to have a friend to kick around with, if you’re interested.”

“Mm.” Silas hums noncommittally. “I don’t want her to think that I’m a baby.”

“Si, why would she think that you’re a baby?” Harry asks gently, abandoning the bedding to turn his full attention toward his son. Silas doesn’t even notice his focus, continuing to separate his books into careful piles.

“If she’s older than me, she might think that I’m a baby.” Silas reasons. “And sometimes, when I fall on the pitch, I cry a little. I’m totally fine, Mum, but it just happens. I wish I didn’t.”

“It’s normal and healthy to cry when you need to, love. But sometimes kids aren’t taught the same, and then they say mean things.” Harry says. “That doesn’t make you a baby.”

“ I know I’m not a baby. I just don’t want someone to not be friends with me because they think I am.”

“What matters most is knowing who you are and not compromising that for anyone.” Harry reminds him. “But I know first impressions are hard sometimes, so what if we went over to our neighbors’ house for dinner before you decide whether or not you’d want to play footie together?”

Silas pauses, glancing back at Harry over his shoulder. “You’ll be there too?”

“Of course, baby. I’ll be there the whole time.” Harry smiles gently. “Do you want me to tell you about our neighbors?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, well, I met Jo and her dad.” Harry begins. “Jo is thirteen, and she plays footie. I talked to her a bit, and she seemed very nice.”

“She lives with just her dad?” Silas asks, perking up suddenly. “She has a single parent, too?”

“She does. Only Jo and her dad live in the house.” Harry nods. “But we have to be careful when we’re talking about her parents, right? We don’t know why Jo only lives with her dad, and their family’s business is private.”

Silas grins. “I know. It’s just cool that we have that in common, Mum.”

Warmth fills Harry’s chest. “It is, Si. And I talked with her dad, too. His name is Louis, and he’s very kind. He’s who invited us over for dinner.”

“Do you think they’d have salmon?” Silas chirps, turning back to his books. “I’m hungry for salmon.”

Harry laughs gently. “We’re not going over tonight , love. And we’ll eat what they serve us, since they’re being generous and making us a meal.”

“But you should tell them that you don’t eat meat besides fish.” Silas points out. “If they make food you don’t eat because they don’t know, they’ll probably feel really bad.”

“You’re right, Si. I’ll make sure I do that.” Crossing the room to his son, he pauses to ruffle his hair. “Are you up for going over to their house for dinner this week?”

Silas nods, looking up at Harry. “As long as you’re there, Mum, I’d like to try.”

“Proud of you, baby. I’ll let them know.”

Pulling out his phone, Harry tries to ignore the nervousness that accompanies the hope that Louis texted him in the short time since they talked. Feeling much too juvenile for his age and his rationality – you only just met Louis today, Harry – his heart ignores his pleas for normalcy and launches into frantic palpitations at the sight of a new number’s messages.

555-369-2828 : Hey Harry, it’s Louis! Feel free to save my contact 🙂

Harry : Hi Louis!! Thanks again for being so welcoming :) it’s such a stress relief to know who your neighbors are early into the move!!

When the text bubble appears instantly, Harry’s heart takes that as permission to speed up even more.

Louis : Haha yeah! There are so many moving parts to worry about with moving, and shit neighbors make everything worse. Lmk if you need anything as you’re getting settled. I work from home most days, so I’ll be around!

Harry : Thank you! That’s so nice of you. I also work mostly from home, but I have this week off to get settled. Hopefully that’s enough time 😅

Harry : But I did talk to Silas, and we’re both happy to meet you for dinner sometime this week, if you’re still up for that! Please do not feel like you have to feed us.

Louis : Definitely still up for it! It’s our pleasure. Any dietary restrictions for you or the lad?

Jesus . Is the bar low enough to make Louis’ consideration seem more impressive than it is, or is he genuinely that lovely of a person? Either way, Harry swoons at his message.

Harry : Actually, yes. I'm pescatarian, and Si is sensitive to dairy. He doesn’t have to eat totally dairy-free, but we try to use substitutes where we can. He could never quit ice cream lol!

Harry : And… it’s really sweet that you asked! Most people don’t, and it’s very kind of you to think ahead like that 🙂

Louis : Noted! And of course, it’s not a hardship. To be fair, Jo and I eat like fucking raccoons, so we never assume anyone else does the same 😂

Louis : To be clear. We will eat like people when you’re over.

Harry giggles to himself, sufficiently charmed.

Harry : I’m really curious about the raccoon experience, though!! I feel like you’re denying me something special.

Louis : If you want to come back after the normal dinner, maybe you’ll be invited to a raccoon dinner.

Louis : (Leftovers night. Anything in the fridge goes.)

Harry : Ooh, we do that too! We just call it “feast or famine” 😂

Louis : That’s fucking gold, Harry. Trademark that!

Harry : I kind of like raccoon dinner better ;)

Louis : Baby steps! What night works best for you for normal dinner? We can do as early as tomorrow night!

Harry : Tomorrow night is great, if you don’t mind :) still don’t know when I’ll get to the grocery store, haha!

Louis : sounds perfect, Harry :) I’m looking forward to it!

Harry : Me too :) see you then!

Reluctantly, Harry pockets his phone just in time for his mum to walk through the doorway, grinning knowingly. 

“I didn’t get to see him, if you’re wondering.” She remarks. “But it looks like you’re luckier than I am.”

“ Mum .” His groan is punctuated with a smile he can’t hide, choosing instead to look anywhere but his mother’s eyes. She simply knows too much.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THREE: LOUIS

“Dad, Christmas isn’t for months . Why the hell are you wearing your apron?”

Louis whips around from the stovetop, wielding a spoon that he points menacingly in his daughter’s direction. “Hey, don’t hate the apron. It’s functional.”

She snorts. “Never said it wasn’t. You only break out the apron when you’re cooking a big, fancy meal, though.”

“We’re trying a new recipe for dinner tonight.” He replies, somewhat of a non-answer. “Honey-glazed salmon over rice with a side of veg.”

“What vegetable, Dad?”

“Carrots and parsnips, love.”

“Hm.” Jo doesn’t sound convinced, and nor does she look it. Leaning against the counter, she crosses her arms as she studies him. “You don’t like parsnips.”

“I’ll eat around them. Jo, what’s with the interrogation?”

Jo raises her hands in defense. “Nothing! Nothing, Dad. You’re acting totally normal, and I know you’re definitely not hiding anything that you’re going to tell me in the worst attempt at being casual.”

“Great, you’ve got it.” Louis turns back to his prep work. “So, if you like this meal, how do you feel about eating it for two nights in a row?”

“Are you planning to make that much at once? I know we’re a leftovers household, but we usually don’t chance fridge space on a new recipe.”

Louis refuses to look back at her, lest she read deep into his soul. She’s known to do that. “No, I’d just make it again. Did I tell you that the new neighbors are coming over?”

Jo laughs loudly. “ There it is! You’re trying to impress them, aren’t you?”

“I just want them to think we eat like civilized people, and we need a trial run.” Louis huffs, but he can’t stop the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. “We can’t have table spaghetti with our neighbors.”

“Not yet, we can’t. If they become our besties, we have to have table spaghetti together.” Jo insists. “Who needs pots and plates anyway? It’s sustainable.”

“I’m sure the water we save by not doing those dishes is totally offset by the aluminum foil we cover the table with.” Louis retorts jokingly. “But you’re right – maybe we’ll invite them in eventually. Harry is pescatarian, so it would be a good option for him.”

“Oh, did he tell you that? You know, I thought about going vegetarian once. Cried myself to sleep thinking about how cute chickens are, then woke up the next morning craving tenders. The circle of life, I suppose.”

“Josette.” Louis laughs, shaking his head. “Yes, Harry did tell me that he’s pescatarian. And his son is dairy-sensitive, so we’re playing it safe for their first time over.”

“Have you been texting?”

“Yes, Jo. I’m not ninety-five. I do know how to use a phone.”

“I’m just saying, you could use some friends your age. Texting is a good thing.”

Louis scoffs. “Excuse me, are Uncle Zayn and Uncle Niall chopped liver?”

“They live too far away.” Jo argues. “For your sake, I’ll happily eat the same meal two nights in a row. If it’s good.”

Louis sighs. He doesn’t voice his complete and utter agreement in order to save a shred of his parental dignity. “Thank you for your sacrifice, love.”

******

Over the course of the next forty-eight hours, three things turn out to be true.

One: the salmon dish is a unanimous hit. Fucking win.

Two: Louis does need more friends his age. Teenagers are nothing if not honest and brazenly correct.

Three: Harry is exceedingly punctual, showing up at the exact moment he promised.

Maybe there is a fourth (unsaid) truth in the way that Louis’ brain melts the instant he sees Harry standing in his doorway, his hand resting gently on the shoulder of a very blonde, curly-haired boy. In his corduroys and striped shirt, Harry paints a gloriously adorable picture, the green canvas jacket embroidered with a ship and marine grasses only emphasizing the sweet quirkiness of his dress. However, it only takes a split second of admiring his outfit for Louis to realize how his shirt clings to his chest, tucked into the waist of his very well-fitting pants. When Harry waves, a gentle wiggle of his hand, Louis’ eyes follow the rings that sit enticingly on long fingers. Harry is put-together, family-friendly, and downright devastatingly attractive all at once.

Louis’ mouth starts working a moment too late, his cheeks already heating up at his lack of natural introduction. “Hi, Harry. Good to see you.” His dad instincts send his attention immediately to the younger boy, noting how he shuffles closer to Harry’s body as Louis’ focus turns to him. He remembers that when Jo was ten, she hated when people treated her like she was still a little kid, proud of her “double digits” and undoubtedly precocious. So instead of crouching to make eye contact, Louis instead smiles gently and offers him a bit of space, stepping slightly aside to allow him to peer into the house.

“Hey, mate. I’m Louis, and I’m really excited for you to be here.” He says, earnest yet calm. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Your mum was telling me how much you love footie, so I had to hear it from the source.”

Silas chews his bottom lip, studying Louis intently. Despite the difference in hair color, his eyes mimic his mother’s so identically that their relation is undeniable. “It’s nice to meet you too.” He says quietly, clearly a product of well-taught manners. “My name is Silas, and I’m not very good at meeting new people, but I do really like footie. And your house smells really nice.”

“Thanks, Silas. I think you’re doing a very good job of meeting new people so far.” Louis grins. “It’s salmon for dinner, so I hope that’s alright.”

Silas gasps suddenly, looking at Harry with wide eyes. “I just said I wanted salmon yesterday! Did you tell Louis to make it?”

“I did not, Si.” Harry laughs, slightly in disbelief. “Louis must be a mind reader.”

Chest puffing out in pride, Louis shrugs. “What can I say? Looks like our friendship was meant to be, Silas.”

“I think I’m ready to go inside now.” Silas decides, smiling shyly at Louis. Fantastic progress, if he does say so himself. Harry seems to think so too, with how widely he beams at Louis as he shuts the front door behind them. 

“Silas, my daughter, Jo, is in the living room. You’re welcome to go hang out with her, or you can stick with your mum while I bring the food to the table. We’ll be sitting down to eat in just a minute, alright?” Louis lays out the space and the timeline clearly, leaving no surprises that could sneak up on him. 

Silas nods, eyes darting between Harry and the living room. “I’m gonna go talk to Jo. Are you going to stay with Louis, Mum?”

“I’ll be in either the kitchen or the dining room with Louis, love.” Harry reassures him. I’ll be right here.”

“And Silas, if you need anything, you can just call out one of our names.” Louis adds. “Don’t be afraid of getting a bit loud in this house; you’re welcome to be yourself here.”

With a resolute nod, Silas turns in the direction of the living room. As soon as he’s out of sight, Harry trains an awestruck smile on Louis, laughing gently. “I know you’re a dad, Louis, but you just took care of Silas in a way that rarely comes naturally to people. I’m – I’m so grateful, for one, but I’m also in a bit of shock.”

“He’s lovely, Harry. We all have needs and they deserve to be met.” Louis remarks, grabbing the oven mitts off of the counter. “But I guess since we are getting to know each other, it’s an apt moment to tell you about my job. I’m a pediatric psychotherapist.”

“And clearly a bloody fantastic one at that.” Harry shuffles away from the counter so Louis can have more room to open the oven. “Shit, sorry. Need any help? You can absolutely put me to work.”

“Nah, mate, you’re our guests.” Louis insists, pulling the veg out of the oven. “You can help yourself to any drinks in the fridge, though. Water and ice come from the door, and your glass should already be on the table.”

“Oh, thank you.” Harry busies himself with retrieving the glass and filling it with water, sipping it as Louis delivers the veg and salmon to the table. “This all looks incredible, Louis. Do you like to cook?”

Louis snorts, willing himself not to give away the embarrassing reality that he whipped up something fancy just to impress the new neighbors. “Honestly, I used to be a really shit cook. I got by on my own in uni, and even when Jo was little, it didn’t matter much. Kids are picky anyway. But once I started working from home almost full-time, I tried to cook more interesting meals. You just pick up certain things when you’re doing it more routinely, I suppose.”

Harry hums, smirking in a way that makes his eyes sparkle. The curve of his lips and the craters of his dimples shred Louis’ sanity into smaller and smaller pieces the more he spends time with him. “You still didn’t answer my question about whether or not you like to cook.”

“You’ve caught me there, Harold.” Louis teases. “Should be no surprise to you that I fucking hate it, then.”

Harry laughs. “If you hadn’t dodged my question, I would’ve never known, honestly. You didn’t have to go through this much work just for us.”

“I’ve got to make a good first impression, haven’t I?” Louis retorts, raising a brow. “My daughter already wants to invite you back for table spaghetti night, which… well, it’s exactly what it sounds like. I couldn’t lead with that.”

“Table spaghetti?” Harry repeats, as if he misheard Louis. “As in… spaghetti on the table?”

Louis nods. “No plates, no pots. We cover the table in aluminum foil, dump the pasta, sauce, and cheese right on top of it, and then have at it with forks.” He chuckles to himself, reminiscing. “When Jo was little, we’d use our hands. Now we have a little more decorum.”

“Louis, that is…” Harry laughs. “That is really precious, actually.”

“Being a young parent just puts a lot into perspective.” Louis explains, smiling at Harry’s knowing hum of agreement. “What’s life without a little fun? The cleanup is awful, but it’s a tradition that we built together.”

“I really admire that, and I agree.” A curl falls across Harry’s forehead as he ducks his head, and Louis’ hand twitches with the repressed desire to reach out and fix it. He’s proper angelic, all soft hair, warm smiles, and an unabashedly open way of presenting himself. Fuck, he’ll have to consciously keep himself from staring too much tonight, lest he scare off a potential new friend .

Friend, Louis. A friend.

Louis gestures in the direction of the dining room, clearing his throat. “We should probably eat before the food gets cold – and check on the kids.”

“Silas would come find me if something’s wrong, so I’m optimistic.” Harry confides, following Louis into the dining room. “Really, once he’s warmed up to someone, he’s a social butterfly. It just takes him a minute to get there.”

“Hey, it’s alright. Jo’s always fully herself, but that also means that she’s very good at reading people. She’s entirely genuine when she likes someone, but they certainly don’t have to be the exact same for them to get along.”

As if on cue, Jo strolls into the dining room, Silas trailing just slightly behind her with a smile stretching from ear to ear. “Hi, Harry! Welcome to our home. Is it time to eat yet, Dad?”

Louis rolls his eyes fondly, taking a seat across from Harry and next to Jo’s usual chair. “Yes, love. Eager, are we?”

“I’m starving . Pre-season practice makes me twice as hungry as I normally am.” She groans, falling into her chair. “I was telling Silas that he should join the league at school! They host try-outs for new players like a week or two into the school year, I think. There should be an email about it or something, but I can keep an ear out.”

“Jo thinks I’ll be good enough.” Silas pipes up, sliding into the chair next to Harry. “She said that tryouts aren’t scary.”

“They just want to see your skill level, not reject you altogether.” She explains. “And Si showed me his juggling, so I can vouch for the fact that he’s, like, ten times better than some of the people in my league.”

“You showed Jo your juggling?” Harry asks, surprised, and Silas nods.

“Yeah, Jo had a football in the living room! She said that they don’t have a ‘no kicking footballs in the house’ policy, so it’s okay, Mum.”

Louis barely conceals a laugh as Harry’s eyes flit to his, nonverbally checking the truth to that statement. “We don’t, Si, you’re right. We just use our best judgment and make good decisions.”

Jo snorts. “Dad’s broken more things with a football than I have. I think that rule’s more for his benefit.”

“Hey now, watch your mouth.” Louis teases, grinning. “My house, my football rules. I can break a picture frame or two if I want to.”

“You’re going to be the favorite house if they can play football inside.” Harry warns jokingly, pointing his fork across the table. “Remember this moment, Louis.”

Louis raises his hands defensively. “Hey, I’ll take responsibility for it!”

Dinner passes with similarly lively conversation, Jo and Silas chatting away like they’ve know each other for ages. Their discussion bounces around wildly, as all conversation between kids does, but Louis catches a few comments about footie, school, and a book series that Jo read last year that Silas recently started reading.

With their plates emptied, Harry catches Louis’ eyes across the table. They’ve had no shortage of their own conversation, keeping the mood light and filling each other in on important facets of their lives. A crash course in Harry’s family reveals that his loveliness doesn’t just spawn from nowhere – a life full of love and support crafted the unfailingly kind man sat before him.

“He’s not usually this loud.” Harry mouths, smiling around the edges of his words as he nods towards Silas. His son is none the wiser to his mum’s silent comments, throwing his head back in gleeful laughter at something Jo said. The sound fills the room, little bells of joy reverberating between the walls. “Thank you.” Harry says, using his voice again.

Louis can only guess at  what he’s thanking him for, but his experience as both a parent and a therapist leads him to some likely conclusions. Really, Harry has nothing to thank him for – no matter who walks through his front door, the Tomlinson household strives to make their home a safe and inviting place. Growing up, his mum never let one of his friends feel like they were moving through a foreign or delicate environment when they came over – they could put their feet up on the furniture, they could run through the halls, and they could be loud in a way that rang throughout the house. Everyone was welcome, and no one left hungry or uncertain of their place in the home. He admired that deeply, and wanted to carry that with him into his own adult life.

His heart swells not only with the realization that he is successful in his mirror of his mum, but also in how open Harry is with his gratefulness. “We’re happy to have you here. Jo told me I need more friends my age, so it’s not entirely selfless.”

Harry laughs. “Yeah, I think Si would say the same. I think we’re doing quite well so far, hm?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Louis grins. “Do you want to move to the living room? I can pour you more wine, if you’d like.”

“I’d love a couch, if I’m honest.” Harry stands from the table, taking his glass with him. “I’ve had a bad back ever since I gave birth to Silas, no matter how much I work on it. Could use a bit of cushioning at the moment.”

Louis nods, following him. “Be my guest. Hey, Jo, Silas – we’re going to be in the living room; you’re welcome to go up to Jo’s room, outside – wherever.”

“Let’s go outside so I can show you my football net.” Jo decides. “We still have some light left, and we can just turn on the lights when it gets dark. We have fairy lights strung around the fence.”

“Cool! I have fairy lights in my room.” Silas adds, and Jo reaches out to offer him a high-five. 

“Me too! They’re the best. I like them way better than the big light on my ceiling fan.”

As the kids head out the back door, Louis grabs the bottle of wine to top off Harry’s drink, joining him in the living room. Finding Harry on his couch is strangely breathtaking, the unexpectedness of his affection catching him tight in his throat. Words die in his mouth, suddenly dry despite having plenty to drink. He’s past the point of denying that Harry is stunning – he’s a walking juxtaposition of beauty, every ounce of softness sharpened by strong edges. Maybe their proximity is forcing Louis’ attraction along, but everything Harry does is subconsciously addictive. He craves more – more conversations, more shared smiles, more flutters of his lashes when he’s feeling particularly bashful. 

Now, leaning back into the sofa cushions in the picture of sublime ease, Harry grins lazily at him. “I’m jealous of your couch and I just bought a new one. I wish I had come over ages ago – before I even moved in. Or knew who you were. That’s how deep my jealousy runs.”

“Mourning all that wasted time, yeah?” Louis teases. “With a couch, I mean.”

“Totally.” Harry jokes back, smiling against the rim of his wine glass. His cheeks almost match the color of his lips, stained a juicy red with what Louis selfishly hopes is a blush. He wants to make him turn the color of roses just as much as he wants to give him the flowers altogether. “Just because of a couch. Not at all because of a charming alpha.”

Strike all of Louis’ mental confidence from the record. Coughing through his surprise, he quickly makes an utter fool of himself at Harry’s blatant flirtation. “Jesus, sorry. Went down the wrong tube – yeah.”

“ I’m sorry if that was too forward.” Harry insists, his smile turning genuinely embarrassed instead of bashful. “I have a hard time filtering myself, especially with a little alcohol.”

He’s barely had one glass, and they both know it. Louis grants him the excuse nonetheless, chuckling gently. “You’re fine, Harry. You’re still very lovely, in fact.”

“Oh.” Harry muses, setting the glass down on the table next to him, fiddling with the rings on his fingers instead. “Maybe I’ll just… keep being forward, then.”

The heady buzz of flirtation fills Louis’ mind, barely able to think clearly as his mouth runs entirely on instinct, responding in kind as he sits close to Harry. “Do your worst, love. I can take it.”

“You’re –” Harry shakes his head suddenly, as if he’s distracting himself. “Never mind. Shit. I was just going to be a bit ridiculous and ask if there’s anyone else in your life. Like, adult to adult. Friend to friend.”

“Mm, I see.” Louis raises his eyebrows as a smirk turns the corner of his mouth upwards. “Well, friend to friend, there isn’t. I honestly haven’t dated anyone since uni – since Jo’s mum, to be fair. Which… that was complicated, too.”

Harry hums, nodding. He looks at Louis with so much sincerity and openness that he feels inclined to tell him anything and everything. “Tell me to fuck off if I’m being too nosy, but. Is her mum still in her life?”

Louis chuckles. “You can be as nosy as you’d like; I don’t mind. And no, she’s not. We were friends throughout most of uni who just… fell into a relationship, I guess. We dated on and off, somewhat casual and somewhat not. I liked it that way at the time – my long, drawn out realization about my sexuality happened during uni, and dating Ava gave me a concrete reason to prove to myself that I wasn’t completely gay.”

A pained noise of sympathy slips past Harry’s pursed lips. “Been there, Lou. Just – secondary school for me. But I get it.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t my finest moment.” Louis cringes. “During the off times of our relationship, I definitely slept with men. But I wasn’t willing to engage with the idea that I’d actually like a long term relationship with a man, so I thought I could ignore that part of myself for a while.”

“It took me a while to understand that I’m mostly person-forward, if that makes sense.” Harry remarks. “Like… gender or secondary gender doesn’t matter much to me, I suppose.”

“Yeah, exactly. I’ve comfortably labeled myself as gay for years, but secondary gender feels less important.” Louis agrees. “So, Ava and I were dating in our final year of uni, but we both agreed that we were mutually going to go our separate ways after graduation. She had grad school on the horizon – out of the country, even, and I – well, I wasn’t in love with her.” He laughs, slightly self-deprecating. “Ava wasn’t in love with me, either. Like I said, we were friends who made it work because it was safe and convenient. And then… Ava got pregnant.”

Harry nods, sipping his wine as he urges him to continue. They’ve moved closer, just infinitesimally so, but Louis feels every centimeter between their bodies, thick with tension. The electricity between them snaps when Harry nudges his knee into Louis’, a gentle touch of reassurance.

“She was distraught, honestly. I didn’t blame her. I can’t imagine having such clear goals for your future and watching them get interrupted so fast.” Louis sighs. “I had goals too, sure, but Ava — she was always so driven. Of course, we talked through options, but she was hesitant to end the pregnancy. I think that was because of me.”

“Why?” Harry asks, not unkindly.

“The first thing that I said when she told me she was pregnant was that I’d always support her and that I’d take full custody.” Something so young and protective flares within him at the memory of how blindly sure he was about entering into parenthood. “I knew she didn’t want a child at the time, and I knew I wanted kids — maybe more than I knew I wanted anything else in life, which sounds fucking crazy, but I grew up in a big family and couldn’t imagine myself without one. I should’ve told her that I’d support whatever decision she made about the pregnancy in the first place, but I was young and in shock.”

“It sounds like you were still someone she could rely on in the moment.” Harry offers. “That’s more than a lot of people can say, and I think that’s admirable.”

“I just knew how scared she was.” Louis says. “I said the first thing that popped into my head. Sure, I could’ve done better, but I don’t regret what I said. I’m forever grateful to Ava for giving me Jo. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“You said you wanted a big family.” Harry points out. “Do you still? Or has that changed since Jo?”

“It’s only changed circumstantially.” Louis explains. “Jo will always be enough for me. She is the greatest kid ever, and I know I’m biased, but I really mean it. That being said, I would love to have more kids if that would ever be in the cards for me. But I’d like to do that with a partner – someone I’m in love with, and vice versa. I’m a bit of a softie, I guess.”

Harry smiles, and Louis follows the gentle curve of his lips. “I feel the same way. I’m such a hopeless romantic that I think it shocked some of my friends when I had Silas on my own.”

“On your own?” Louis repeats, surprise saturating too much of his tone. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just – that’s not the usual story.”

“I know; it’s alright.” Harry laughs. “That’s the usual response, then and now. I told you that I have MOLF, yeah?”

“You did, in your massive oversharing when we first met.” Louis grins, pleased when Harry rolls his eyes in bemusement. “But yeah, babe, tell me more. If you’d like, that is.”

Harry shrugs. “There’s not much to tell or not tell. I was diagnosed when I was twenty-two and just looking to get a suppressant implant, and I immediately knew I needed to get pregnant while I still could. I was lucky enough to have a solid job and a generous income, so I immediately began the process of searching for a donor. I had Si when I was twenty-four, and I obviously know that was the right choice for me.”

“That’s lovely, Harry. Not everyone knows themselves deeply enough to make such an important decision at that young of an age.” Louis says honestly, to which Harry raises his glass. 

“We’re alike in that way, me and you.”

“We are.” Louis agrees, sighing as he relaxes back into the couch. “What do you do for work, then? Are you still in the same job?”

Harry tilts his head. “Kind of. I studied music and literature in uni, and an internship with an indie production label turned into a ghostwriting gig after I graduated. I had a few successful songs, so I was promoted, and recently got a job at a new label. The new position – still in songwriting – gave me greater flexibility to be home with Si and move out of the city, which is all I’ve ever wanted.”

“That’s sick, mate! Do you play any instruments, too?”

“Yeah – my home office is more of a studio, really. I play guitar and piano, mostly.”

Louis rolls his head across the back of the couch cushions, beaming at Harry as he does the same. “You’ll have to show me sometime, if you don’t mind. That’s fucking awesome.”

Harry bats his eyelashes in a way that makes Louis’ heart flutter in unison. “I’d love to serenade you, Lou.”

“ Lou .” Louis gives into the endless desire to make Harry squirm in the face of his teasing, mentally rejoicing when the man next to him ducks his head to hide his furious blush.

“I’m sorry, I –” Harry giggles, hiding behind his wine glass as if it would give him any cover. “You’re easy to nickname.”

Louis smirks. “You too, love .”

“My friends call me H.” Harry squeaks out in a rush of air, smiling toothily. “But love is great, too. Perfect, even.”

“Babe?” Louis asks, goading him further. He can’t help it; for as off-kilter as Harry makes him, the gentle blossom of his blush under Louis’ attention is beautiful. 

“Babe is good, thanks for asking.” Harry presses his hand to his forehead, laughing slightly. “Oh, god, I bet you say that to all the neighbors.”

“Maybe. But Ruth and Irene don’t react as prettily as you do.”

“Jesus. I haven’t flirted so hard in such a long time.” Harry laughs reedily, setting his wine glass down next to him once more. His hands, his devastatingly strong and soft hands, coast up the seam of his jacket, leaning forward as he pushes it from his shoulders. “I’m like, sweating with the force of it.”

The flex and ripple of Harry’s muscles does absolutely nothing to keep Louis’ sanity intact. In fact, the whole feature-length-film of Harry’s jacket removal occupies Louis’ attention for a noticeably long moment, his eyes tracing every tattoo that litters his arms. 

“Good to know that still works.” Harry muses, digging his teeth into his bottom lip. Louis can’t look away, but from what? Eyes, arms, mouth. Chest. Arms. Lips. 

“Is it alright?” Harry speaks up again, each word said tentatively. “If I am flirting a bit?”

Louis nods, pressing their knees together again. “It is, yeah. I’m just – I’m not used to it, I guess. But it’s definitely welcome. From you. Shit.”

“Feel a bit like a teenager.” Harry giggles. “‘S like we just played spin the bottle in my parents’ basement and now I’m all embarrassed around you.”

“Don’t be.” Louis insists. “I want to get to know you more, and if flirting comes with that, I’m definitely not opposed. I promise to let you know if that changes.”

Harry smiles in a way that doesn’t totally meet his eyes. “If I’m too intense, please, tell me. I’ve been warned off for being too… too much, I guess. I really am just happy to be friends with my neighbor.”

“H, I want you to be wholly yourself and not apologize to anyone for that. Including me, alright?”

“Alright.” Harry says softly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t think yourself into a spiral, love. I’m not pretending to enjoy my time with you, and I was flirting right back.” Louis grins. “I like that. I like you. I’d like to have you and Si over for dinner again. That’s all I know right now, and that’s enough for me.”

“It is for me, too.” Harry promises. “We should plan for that next dinner to be at my house, to be fair. Let me just –” Harry pulls out his phone for the first time since they sat down, gasping as it lights up. “Oh, shit. It’s a lot later than I thought.”

Glancing to his own phone, Louis confirms the same sentiment. “Jesus, it is. Jo has a dentist appointment in the morning that I’m sure she’s trying to let me forget about.”

Harry snorts. “Heard that. Let me collect my son, and we’ll get out of your hair.”

Louis stands with Harry, knowing he should let him go. It’s best for both of them, and for Christ’s sake, it’s only their second time talking in person. What about his life makes the moments he wants to last longer go exceedingly fast? “That’s alright, H. It was so lovely having you over for dinner – and for a chat.”

“Five star review. For both the dinner and the host.” Harry jokes. “And the wine. And the flirtation.”

“Oh, I’m honored .”

Getting Silas out the door is a much harder task than expected, with Jo arguing very convincingly for five more minutes on Silas’ behalf. Those five more minutes are spent watching Jo and Silas do a mock-penalty shoot out, counting how many goals they made against the other person.

By the time Harry and Silas are back in their home, Jo has already run through a million things that she loves about Silas, non-stop talking about how fun it was to have someone to kick around with who lives just next door . He’s only slightly peeved that she seems to forget that she has someone to kick around with who lives in her house . Only slightly.

“Dad.” Jo finally takes a breath. “It’s Friday! We need to do the Great Blanket Exchange!”

Louis chuckles. “You’re right, kiddo. Run and grab yours and meet me in my room, okay?”

“‘Kay!”

Jo sprints up the stairs with the remaining adrenaline from playing footie, overexcited as always. Honestly, Louis is just as eager to complete their Friday night tradition – he probably needs it more than Jo. Ever since she was little, the two of them routinely swap blankets in their nests to refresh each other’s scent. The exchange comforts Jo and is the most consistent balm for Louis’ touch deprivation, keeping the more severe symptoms at bay. It’s a perfect compromise and a great way for Louis to ignore the most inconvenient part of his adult life. 

A few hours after their exchange and a rewatch of Tangled , Louis reminds Jo of her dentist appointment and sends a very reluctant teenager to bed. She knows that she’s allowed to stay up quietly, but the rule is that she has to stay in her room after a certain hour – unless she needs something, of course. The quiet allows Louis to finally dress in his pajamas, climb into bed, and doze off after a long day of hosting.

If only sleep was as restful as advertised.

In his dream, Louis is suddenly back at his university lecture hall, waiting for class to start. He knows exactly which class it is, too – General Principles of Psychology, a first year intro seminar. Dream Louis knows exactly who will sit down next to him, as if all of his actions are routine.

They are, in fact, an identical reflection to his first semester of uni. Until the person who sits next to him is not Ava – in this dream universe, maybe they never meet.

Instead, Harry drops into the chair next to him, his curls aflutter and his toothy smile on bright display.

Like the early days with Ava, when they were just friends but leaning heavily into the fun of flirting, dream Louis runs his hand down Harry’s arm, stopping to pluck at a bracelet on his wrist.

“Where’d you get this?” Dream Louis, like the ghost of uni Louis past, doesn’t care where the bracelet is from. He just wants an excuse to touch Harry, because the feel of him underneath his fingertips makes his entire body ignite. 

“I made it.” Harry answers, eyes focused on the brush of Louis’ fingers against his wrist. “I’ll make you one, if you’d like. A friendship bracelet.”

“Maybe I want more than a friendship bracelet.” Dream Louis challenges, a near-exact replica of eighteen-year-old Louis’ boldness.

“Maybe I do too.” Dream Harry agrees easily. Their feet connect underneath the table, ankles interlocking. “But let’s start there, yeah?”

Dream Louis nods, heart bursting with the possibilities. “Sounds perfect, love.”

When he wakes, he doesn’t think of Ava. Weirdly enough, he doesn’t even think of his past self. All he can think about is how much goddamn easier this uncertain, flirtatious friendship with Harry would be if they were eighteen and randomly sat next to each other in a psychology class.

Maybe there is a lesson in why his dreams aren’t reality.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FOUR: HARRY

As Harry’s come to find, in life, you sometimes see a lot of your neighbors, and you sometimes see none of them.

When he and Silas lived in their London home, they almost never saw their neighbors. The thought of friendship didn’t cross their mind. But now, Harry runs into Louis almost daily, whether or not he’s trying to. After three days of collecting the post at the same time, Harry just decided to invite Louis over for lunch, Jo tagging along so Silas could give her a tour of the house. With school re-starting the next week, the kids needed to blow off steam anyway.

Another week passes, and the kids head back to school – Jo with reluctance, despite enjoying her peers and her academics – and Silas with hesitation. Driving Si to school on the first day was almost as tearful for Harry as sending him off to his very first day of nursery school, but he tried to keep it together and trust that his baby boy would flourish in a new environment.

Over the next two months, Silas does settle well into his new environment, reporting back to Harry that he’s made friends through Jo, despite being at different schools due to their age. Apparently, Jo had told her friends with younger siblings in Silas’ year that they should tell their siblings that he’s “very cool and very good at football and painting,” which set him off on a stellar track with a few students in his year. Of course, as soon as Silas had relayed that information to Harry, he had called Louis in near-tears, continually overwhelmed by the easy kindness of the Tomlinsons.

School starting also means that Harry and Louis are left at home in two dangerously close houses, entirely alone. Dangerously close meaning that they start looking for excuses to pop over, turning needing to borrow an egg into an all-day co-working session on Louis’ couch. Much of said work is punctuated with laughter and shit tv in the background.

Their flirtation remains (see: for two months), despite no further conversation about its existence (for two. months. ). There’s no question on Harry’s end about his crush; he’s even admitted his terribly strong obsession to both his sister and his mother. Neither were surprised.

But really, how much longer can he handle seeing Louis on a daily basis without blurting out the truth? It’s not like Louis isn’t aware of Harry’s crush – for god’s sake, he asked if he could flirt with him at that very first dinner get-together. The only problem is that his truth grew over the following weeks. It feels silly to call it a crush when he knows what he wants – Louis. As his boyfriend. Like, yesterday.

These things have to be mutual, however. Obviously. And despite the flirtation, Harry doesn’t want to push Louis or make him feel uncomfortable about their friendship. Thus, he has to keep his mouth shut for as long as possible.

It’s what a mature person would do… right?

******

Said maturity only lasts him another month, all because of some thin, plaid pajama pants.

It all starts with breakfast. Too many pancakes and not enough people leads Harry to his phone, instinctively pressing Louis’ name.

“Louis.” Harry giggles into the phone the instant he picks up, already succumbing to his affection. The answering chuckle only widens his smile, plating pancake after pancake.

“Harry.” Louis parrots. “Hi, love.”

Love . Sighing wistfully, Harry turns to pour more batter into the pan. “Hi, Lou.”

“ Hi , Harry.” Louis pauses. “What’s up?”

“Hm?”

Another gentle laugh. “You called me, Haz. Do you need anything?”

“Oh.” Heat floods Harry’s face, so embarrassed that he flips the pancake jerkily, landing back in the pan folded onto itself. “RIght, um. Do you want to come over? For breakfast? I made Si pancakes and had a lot of batter left over, so I’m cooking the rest now.”

“Could you hear my stomach rumbling from the house over?” Louis asks, and while he can’t hear that noise, Harry can hear the smile in his voice. “I’m starving, so I’d be insane to say no. I have a client meeting at eleven, however, so I’ll have to head out before then.”

“Come spend the morning with me.” Harry entreats, uncaring of how domestic he sounds. “Do you want coffee? I put the moka pot on for myself, but I can make more.”

“You don’t have to tempt me, Harry. I’m already coming over.” Louis teases. “But yes, I’d love a cup of coffee. Should I stay on the line while I walk over? I hope you don’t mind – I’m still in my pajamas.”

Harry stifles a groan. He doesn’t mind at all . “There’s no dress code, Louis. I’m also in my pajamas. And yes, please. I’ll be lonely if you don’t talk to me for the two minutes it takes you to walk over here.”

Louis huffs in amusement. “Try two seconds, H. I told you I’m coming over in my pajamas. I already left the house.”

“You’re eager.”

“So what if I am? Pancakes, coffee, and you? What a fuckin’ dream.” A knock rings out from Harry’s door. “I’m here, babe.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Door’s open. You shouldn’t be surprised by now.”

All at once, Louis’ voice echoes itself, heard both over the phone and through the foyer. “You really need to keep this locked, H. Who knows who could come in?”

“I left it open for you, twat. I want you to come in.”

“Jesus, no need to call me names.” Louis appears in front of him, red-faced from the chill of the morning. “Excuse me for being concerned about your safety.” He says into the phone.

“You’re ridiculous.” Harry retorts, dramatically ending the call with a flourish of his finger hitting the button. Louis scoffs, affronted, but joins Harry at the stove nonetheless. Having Louis physically close to him never fails to make his omega preen, desperate to draw close to him in any capacity. Truly, the biological urge is second to everything else he adores about Louis; they haven’t ever intentionally been around each other without scent neutralizers. Of course, he can still smell faint hints of his scent – it sticks to his house, his clothes, his car. But the full force of his pheromones will never sink deep into Harry’s bones and cling to the depths of his omega without unfiltered scenting. For now, he has to rely on glimpses of dark, smoky cherry and a spicy warmth that lies beneath. 

It takes another few seconds for Harry to process what Louis’ pajamas consist of. Despite glancing over his shoulder upon hearing him enter the kitchen, the pancakes drew most of his attention. Now next to Louis, his gaze follows the soft, oversized hoodie down to navy blue and green plaid pajama pants, nothing different from the quintessential adult man’s wardrobe.

On Louis, the pants sling low on his hips, visibly loose from years of wear. The fabric is worn thin to a level that is just above indecent, clinging to every inch of his body concealed underneath.

Every. Last. Inch.

When a kiss lands on Harry’s temple, he squeaks at being knocked from his daydreaming. This is something they do now, apparently – casual touches that could be platonically affectionate, but instead keep Harry wondering about the possibility of more . Louis is always a dizzying force, but the past few months of discovering his affinity for physical touch brings a whole new level of unsteadiness to Harry’s heart.

“Are you going commando?” Harry blurts out, slapping a hand over his mouth in a comical emphasis of his deepest, darkest thoughts. There’s no way he can play his comment off as a meaningless jest now. He basically just showed Louis his entire hand and wagered all of his chips.

“Fucking hell, Harry.” Louis laughs, loud and unbothered. At least he doesn’t think Harry’s a creep. “I told you, I didn’t change to come over here. At all.”

What if Harry proclaimed his undying love and attraction to Louis, miraculously received reciprocity with the same intensity, and then finally got to fall to his knees and nuzzle his face between Louis’ legs? What if he would be so lucky?

“Can tell you’re an alpha.” Harry mutters, turning off the stove as he plates the last pancake, face aflame.

“Am I being a knothead, or is there something else clueing you in?” Louis goads, smirking wolfishly. If the deep-set blush on his cheeks didn’t give him away, Harry would be impressed with his brazenness.

Harry clucks his tongue, turning to bring the pancakes to the small table in the breakfast nook. He can feel Louis’ eyes on him, knowing his own silky pajama pants leave little to the imagination. “Don’t get cocky, Lou. We both know that you’d be at my mercy if I so much as opened my legs.”

Louis makes a choked-off sound as he follows Harry to the table. “Jesus, babe. You’re something else this morning.”

“I have a raging crush on you, Louis.” He admits, dropping into a chair with a huff. “It’s boiling over, I think. I’m sorry, I think — I think I’m doing it again. Where I say too much all at once.”

A long pause settles between them before Louis speaks. “Okay, love, let’s take two steps back. I was just teasing, and you have nothing to apologize for. End of story. Secondly… tell me more.”

Harry furrows his brows, squinting at him across the table. “About the saying too much all at once? Or the raging crush?”

“The crush, love. Tell me more.” Louis is unfailingly gentle, from his voice, to his eyes, to the way he carefully leans forward into Harry’s space. A smile dances across his lips. “I’m being a bit indulgent, but. I want to hear.”

“Well.” Harry breathes, shaking his head. “It’s the same as always, just worse.”

“That makes me feel great.” Louis snorts, pulling out the chair across from Harry. As he sits, he reaches across the table to take one of Harry’s hands in his. “You’re fine, darling. Your feelings aren’t too much, I promise.”

Harry sighs, forcing himself to maintain eye contact with Louis. It’s equally invigorating and complicated, drowning in icy blue waters while forgetting how to swim. “I don’t want to mess anything up, Lou. I just – the flirting means something to me now. Maybe it always did, but now I know you, and you’re not just my hot neighbor who accidentally wooed me over a nice meal.”

“I dunno if that was totally accidental, H.”

Harry waves him off, unable to keep a smile off of his face. “Semantics. What I’m trying to say is that knowing you makes my crush worse. It’s not going to go away, and quite honestly, I don’t want it to. But that doesn’t mean you have to do anything with that information. I just get all worked up about these things and can’t not tell you.”

“Hey, I’m a safe person for you to talk to, no matter what.” Louis assures him, his thumb skating over the back of his hand. “And I – shit, I feel the same way about you. But I think we process these feelings differently.”

Harry tilts his head in a half-hearted nod. “Yeah, and that’s okay. I know I’m not… normal about this –”

“Babe, you dive headfirst into everything because you trust yourself.” Louis interrupts. “It’s okay to have needs that require action, and you have every right to listen to them. You’re not going about this in a way that is disrespectful or inappropriate, so you have nothing to worry about. Just trust me as much as you trust yourself.”

Just trust me as much as you trust yourself. For all of Harry’s adult life, he’s had to make major decisions on his own. The support of his friends and family never goes unnoticed, but there is a unique grief that manifests through long-term adult singlehood. Every stressor he faces is confronted alone. Every decision is ultimately up to his choice. Sure, he signed up for life as he knows it, and he doesn’t regret any tiny piece of it. But relying on yourself for everything means you also rely on yourself for care and comfort. Sometimes, trust is hard to extend when you’re used to being the only person who seems to understand your own needs, and it’s rare when someone willingly makes an effort to break down the walls that disguise themselves as selfless caretaking.

“Alright.” Harry murmurs. “I do, I promise. I’ve just – my sureness has scared people before, and I don’t want that to happen with you.”

“Your needs deserve space.” Louis insists. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Harry nods. “Um, well. I think –” He laughs slightly. “I feel a little silly saying all of this after ranting to you about my anxiety, but I don’t think I can keep flirting with you without telling you that I want it to go somewhere. Eventually.”

Louis hums, nodding as he smiles encouragingly at Harry. He’s giving him space.

“I’m not pretending that it would be easy or smart to jump into a relationship.” He continues, exhaling loudly. “I just want to make it clear that I am interested in that eventually, which is why I’m flirting with you. That’s – that’s basically it.”

“Thank you for telling me that, H.” Louis says, squeezing his hand. “Like I said, I do feel the same way. I haven’t done this – flirting or anything with intention – in a very long time, so I’m a bit slow on the uptake. But at this point in my life, I only want to flirt with someone I’m interested in beyond a bit of banter. So I think we’re on the same page there – I definitely have a crush on you too, babe.”

“Oh, god.” Harry whimpers, giggling at the end of his whine. The noise makes Louis’ eyebrows shoot to his forehead in amusement, and Harry covers his eyes in mortification. “Sorry, sorry. Ignore that, please.”

“Mm, nope, I don’t think I want to.” Louis grins. “Glad to know you’re that excited.”

“Don’t even start.” Harry warns, practically melting into his seat.

Blessedly, Louis just laughs and picks up where he left off. “Alright, alright. The feeling is mutual, that’s for fucking sure. Anyway, I need you to know that… relationship things might take a little longer for me. Since Jo was born, it’s always just been me and her. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around all of the ways that could change if we do decide to commit to something long-term.”

“That makes sense.” Harry agrees. “I feel the same way about Si.”

“It just means that I’ll want to take it slow.” Louis explains. “Like, really slow, love. I understand if you don’t want to wait around for me, and we can just table this discussion and go back to being friends. But… if this is meant to be something big, I need us to build up to it. Not just rush in blindly and risk not just our hearts, but our kids’ as well.”

“It’s not a chore to wait for you, so don’t go telling me that it’s a burden.” Harry retorts gently. “I just want to be in the know about where you stand. If your needs are going slow, then we’ll go slow. Hell, we can fucking crawl at a snail’s pace over the next ten years if that’s what you need. My needs are just to know how you’re feeling and if and when that feeling changes. I can be patient, and I’ll even enjoy it… because it’s you.”

When Louis doesn’t balk at his certainty, Harry’s chest tightens with affection. Yes, he dives into everything he does with fervor and intensity. But that also means he’ll dive into waiting and building with the same dedication. Sureness doesn’t mean that he’s moving too fast – it just means that he can commit to whatever situation he finds himself in with devotion.

“That’s enough for me, H. As long as you don’t mind that it might take me longer to reach where you’re at.”

Harry shakes his head. “It’s not about reaching, Lou. We’re not running a race against each other. We move together, yeah? I’ll tell you if anything gets too much, and you’ll do the same.”

“Of course, babe. Just – one more thing. I think we should keep this from the kids for now.” Louis says carefully. “It’s not fair to bring them into this change until we’re ready, so I think that’s a conversation for later.”

“I agree.” Harry says easily. “It’s already hard enough to navigate raising kids around the age of presentation.”

Louis groans, leaning back in his seat. He lets go of Harry’s hand, running his hand through his hair instead. “Fuck, I know. Jo’s, like, right on the edge of presenting, and I’m trying to prepare her, but it’s fucking hard! Her mood is all over the place, and she gets broody – that’s new. Totally baby alpha behavior, but every morning it feels like a gamble as to which version of Jo will come downstairs.”

“Si’s still on the early side of things, but I don’t think he’ll present as an omega.” Harry comments, spearing a pancake from the stack between them and delivering it to his plate. “I don’t have much to go off of, but he’s protective of his nest and, well, of me in a different way than I was at his age. I could be wrong, and that would be totally fine, but I’m not certain.”

“You never truly know until it happens.” Louis muses. “Although, my mum said she knew I’d present as an alpha ever since my sister, Lottie, was born. Apparently, as soon as she started walking, I’d practically herd her through the house to make sure she didn’t bump into anything.”

“Louis.” Harry coos. “That’s adorable .”

“And I was always a bit bossy.” He adds, grinning across the table. “Though I’m sure you were, too.”

Harry scoffs in faux-offense. “Me? Never .”

“Oh, right. I bet it was never a pissing match between you and Gemma.”

Harry shrugs, smug. “It wasn’t, because I always won. All I had to do was turn on the doe eyes.”

“Those are dangerous things, those. I’ve seen Si use them on you when he wants to stay over here longer.”

“I know. It’s karma for me using them so much as a kid.” Harry groans. “But I can still use them. My secret weapon, if you will.”

Louis licks over his lips, arching an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Hm. Wonder who will have to confront those.”

Harry smiles involuntarily, ducking his chin as he looks down to his plate. “Just you wait.”

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FIVE: LOUIS

True to Harry’s word, the next two months pass with little change, aside from the knowing glances, the casual touches, and the totally not exhilarating at all cuddles.

Winter break interrupts a lot of their alone time, but as soon as the kids go back to school, they wind up spending entire days at each other’s houses again. Though they still haven’t kissed – a massive act of continuous restraint, honestly – the recent development of snuggling is heady enough to make Louis’ alpha crave Harry more and more.

Truthfully, there wasn’t a big moment where they suddenly decided to spend most of their workdays pressed together on the couch. It only took a few lunch break naps for them to drift closer together, pressing their limbs parallel to one another. The only caveat to their cuddling is that they don’t ever talk about doing it intentionally – until one afternoon, when Louis’ touch depri-addled brain yearns for Harry to the point where the need to touch him aches in his chest.

So, he sets his laptop aside. All of his meetings are done for the day anyway, and the kids aren’t due home from school for another two hours. Across the couch, Harry frowns at his computer screen, scrolling through a document. He’s utterly adorable in his focused state, but Louis wants to soothe the wrinkles from between his brows and relax the dramatic downturn of his lips. It’s a totally unselfish endeavor.

“Hey, H.” Louis calls softly, his heart skipping a beat when Harry looks up from his work to meet his eyes. “Could go for a cuddle right now if you have a mo’.”

“‘S your touch depri acting up?” Harry asks, concerned, as he closes his computer. “Want me to grab a blanket from Jo’s room?”

“My alpha wants you, love.” Louis admits, feeling his face heat up. “It wants you more and more nowadays.”

“Oh.” Harry breathes, a pleased chirp slipping from his lips. “Um, yeah, just let me get situated.”

Carefully, Louis scoots himself over onto the chaise portion of the L-shaped couch, extending his legs down the length of it. If he turns onto his side, there’s plenty of room for Harry to join him. As soon as he sets his laptop on the coffee table, Harry curls into the space Louis left next to his body, settling his head on Louis’ chest as his arm wraps around him.

God . Every time Harry winds up pressed against him, it’s instinctive to tug him close, curling around his body. They’ve still kept things very PG – always wearing their routine scent neutralizers, and never intentionally touching close to their scent glands. Admittedly, the restraint grows increasingly difficult to maintain and Louis falls harder for the man next to him.

A few quiet minutes into holding Harry, Louis feels his shoulders start to shake. Panic zips through him, and he pulls back to find tears streaking down Harry’s cheeks.

“Hey, hey, are you alright?” Louis begins to sit up, slowing only when he realizes that his movements jostle Harry uncomfortably. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

Harry sniffles, shaking his head. He makes no move to push out of Louis’ embrace, which Louis takes as a sign that he can continue to cuddle him close. “‘S silly. I’m sorry.”

“Can’t be, love, if you’re tearing up. That’s enough for it to be important.” Louis pets down his back as Harry nuzzles further into his chest, shoulders shaking. Though he’s still nervous about why Harry’s crying, the fear of the tears being Louis-centered dissipates as Harry clings to him. That’s enough reassurance for the fist of anxiety to unclench in his chest, easing him into a comforting concern for the man he’s growing very fond of. “We can cry it out and then chat, if you’d like. But I’m all ears if you need someone to listen.”

“It’s…” Harry huffs out a watery laugh. “If I say it’s nothing, you’re going to tell me it’s not.”

Feeling the lightheartedness of his teasing, Louis chuckles too. “Because it’s you, H. You’re something to me.”

“I just –” Harry exhales a shaky breath. “It’s been so long since someone’s held me like this. Someone who’s not my mum, you know? It feels really good. That’s… that’s it.”

“Oh, babe.” Louis coos, tightening his hold around his body. He’s a little lightheaded himself, flustered at how much Harry makes him feel. A newfound need tugs at his heart, a sort of desperation directed at interlocking their limbs and evening their breaths until they’re serenely in sync. “It’s been awhile for me, too.”

“It feels good too, Harry.” Harry sing-songs, giggling through the thickness in his voice.

Louis snorts, rolling his eyes. “It feels good too, Harry.”

“Haven’t heard that in awhile, either.”

Louis pinches his side, pleased at the yelp that slips from his plush lips. “Naughty boy.”

“Could say the same for that one.” Harry hums, grinning toothily. “Got any more?”

“Plenty.” Louis says simply, refusing to break his steady composure. His stomach is most definitely not host to a swirling spark of arousal, no. Thank god for scent neutralizers.

Apparently, Harry is telepathic. “Wonder how much better this would feel without neutralizers.”

“I think it would shock my touch-deprived system in ways I can’t even begin to comprehend.” Louis mutters, failing to keep the self-deprecation out of his voice. At Harry’s telltale frown, he sighs. “I know. Touch-depri is normal. Believe me, I’ve lived with it for too fucking long not to know.”

“You swear up and down that me crying over our cuddles isn’t silly and then you turn around and hate yourself for the very same thing.” Harry admonishes. His tone is firm but gentle, and Louis’s distantly amused that he’s now on the receiving end of Harry’s mum voice. “We’re single parents, and yes, touch depri is most common in our demographic. But we also have needs beyond our diagnoses. I would wonder how much better cuddling with you without neutralizers would feel even if we didn’t have touch depri.”

“That’s fair, I guess.” Louis nods, mulling over his words. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not disagreeing with you.”

“I know.” Harry smirks. “I’m just saying… my touch depri isn’t what makes me find you attractive.”

Louis’ eyebrows skyrocket, a teasing hmm? already escaping his lips. “You find me attractive, babe?”

“Fuck you for calling me babe .” Harry laughs, groaning. “In that sexy alpha voice of yours, no less.”

“Oh, love, that’s not my alpha voice.” Louis says seriously, letting just an edge of gruffness slip into his speech. “Not even close.”

“No, I wasn’t talking about  your alpha voice, just – your normal voice, and you’re an alpha.” Harry reasons. “Your voice is sexy, so… sexy alpha voice. Trust me, I haven’t felt compelled to do your bidding. Yet.”

Heat unfurls pleasantly under Louis’ skin, and he scratches his nails over the broad muscle between Harry’s shoulder blades. “You’re implying a lot of things, H.”

“What, that I anticipate one day hearing your real alpha voice?” Harry shrugs. “It’s possible. Probably just as possible that I’ll like it and want to be compelled.” 

“Jesus, darling.” Louis closes his eyes for a long moment, wondering how the hell he’ll survive even a millisecond around Harry without neutralizers. “Again with the implications.”

“You’re right. You might not even want to fuck me. I’m sorry.”

Louis laughs, a little wildly. Flirting is easy, cuddling is innocently exciting, but Harry’s openness about his desires is unnerving. Not because of his personality or his secondary gender, not even close. He’s just not used to this – the relentless pursuit, the clear signals. It’s been awhile since he’s even wanted anything remotely romantic or sexual with another person, let alone with such direct expression of mutuality. He knows he finds Harry attractive, interesting, and undoubtedly lovely. But the extent of his feelings is utterly terrifying when he has not only his life to manage and care for, but also his daughter’s. Jo is his everything. He doesn’t know how far that everything can expand, or if it could include not just one – but two – more people. The thought is so heavy that it almost scares him from trying at all.

But Harry’s warm body shifts against his, sea glass green eyes searching his face. Instantly, the calm of his voice grounds him. “Hey, Lou, where’d you go? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t.” Louis replies honestly, letting his hand slip around Harry’s shoulder and up his neck to cup his jaw. “You could never, really. It’s just… been a really long time for me. For things beyond just cuddles and neutralizers. I’m a bit shit at sorting through everything quickly.”

“You don’t have to sort through anything quickly.” Harry murmurs, pressing his cheek into Louis’ touch. “I’ll hold my tongue while we figure out what we’re doing, yeah?”

“No, don’t.” Louis shakes his head. “Please. I’m very fond of all that you are. I want the full force of you every millisecond of every day. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“But Lou, I don’t want you to feel pressured.” Harry bites his lip as he ducks his eyes, blushing high on his cheeks. With their proximity, Louis watches every millimeter of skin turn a pretty pink in his hesitation. “Just because I want something with you doesn’t mean that you have to feel the same.”

“Right, babe, let’s set a few things straight.” Louis decides, patting Harry’s cheek before dropping his hand back to his shoulder. “One – I never want to make you feel like you have to be less for me to want you. That’s the exact opposite of what I want, in fact. Two – I wholeheartedly want something with you. I don’t… I don’t do short-term things anymore. I want something steady with you, but I need… I need to work up to it. But I promise I won’t keep you waiting forever. I just need to think through the change that follows everything.”

“I don’t do short-term either.” Harry smiles softly, reaching up to card through Louis’ hair with long, gentle fingers. “It makes sense that we’d work up to it. Thank you for telling me, though. That helps ease some of my anxiety.”

“Of course, love. But… that doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of implications.” Louis wiggles his eyebrows exaggeratedly, desperate to pull a honking laugh from the omega. His heart soars when he’s predictably successful. “I do want to fuck you. So badly.”

Harry sighs out a wistful whimper, burying his face in Louis’ neck to hide his flustered grin. “Gonna make you come over for a quickie whenever the kids are at school.”

And oh , domesticity really does it for Louis. His cock twitches eagerly in his pants, and he can’t even be ashamed of the way his arousal manifests itself. “The kids are at school all day, love. Doesn’t have to be a quickie.”

“But you still have to work.” Harry reasons, to which Louis shrugs.

“Eh, the perks of remote work. I’ll just write up a fake meeting in my calendar.”

A long beat of charged silence, then: “I’m going to feel up your arm a bit.” Harry squeaks, his hand instantly darting to squeeze his bicep. “Just so you know. This is me coping with not touching your cock this very second.”

Louis’ eyes flick downward, landing very obviously on the ample swell of Harry’s chest. “I can understand that.”

“I’d say you’re welcome to touch my tits all you’d like, but it feels kinda weird to suggest that before we even have our first kiss.”

Memorizing the perky peaks of Harry’s nipples poking through his thin t-shirt, Louis swallows. “Yeah, that does feel a little arse-backwards.”

“Ooh, yeah, you can look forward to touching that too. Though I’d argue that your ass is better than mine.”

Louis scoffs, his disbelief ripping his attention away from Harry’s chest. “No fucking way.”

“You’re biased and too accustomed to seeing your own ass.” Harry accuses. “If you didn’t live with it every day, you’d realize how much of an anomaly yours is. It’s unreal.”

Louis snorts. “And who’s to say you’re not biased?”

“You just have to trust me.” Harry insists flippantly. “Totally unbiased party, here. I mean, I’d fuck my clone, but if you’d make me choose between my clone’s ass and yours, I’d choose yours every time.”

Louis wrinkles his nose. “Would that really be much of a competition?”

“Hey!”

“No – I just mean –” Louis sighs exasperatedly. “Would you really be marginally as excited to fuck your clone as you are to fuck me?”

Harry shrugs. “I’ve fantasized a lot on my own these past few years. Though you definitely rank higher than my clone right now.”

“Right now.” Louis parrots, feeling himself grin. “Alright, fair enough. You can fuck me sometime, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, Lou, I know. I’m excited, but we can take it slow.”

“No, babe.” Louis chuckles. “I mean, you can fuck me, if you’d like. I know some alphas are uncomfortable bottoming, but I’m open to it every now and again. No pun intended.”

Harry’s eyes widen comically large, mouth dropping open beautifully. If Louis wasn’t so amused by his reaction, he’d be much more affected by his near-pornographic pantomiming. “Y’alright, love?”

“I’ve never — I’ve never done that.”

Louis smiles, endeared. “Well, if you ever want to, the offer stands. Like I said, it’s not a preference, but I do enjoy it. Just doesn’t satisfy my alpha in the same way as topping, if that makes sense.”

Harry nods, and Louis tracks the bob of his throat as he swallows. “Totally. Fuck. Um. Wow.”

“Feels good to render you speechless.” Louis quips, catching the innuendo in his words long before Harry can even open his mouth again. He already knows that look – a mischievous glint in his eyes that signals Harry’s eagerness to jump in with a comment and a giggle. “Yeah, yeah. Plenty of other ways to do that, too.”

“You’re a charmer.” Harry says easily, sighing happily as he squirms against Louis for a long moment, getting comfortable. “It’s hard for me to believe that you don’t see it yourself. That you don’t think you’re… all that .”

Louis bites back a laugh, though his chest pangs at his words. “ All that ? Are we in a 90s rom-com all of a sudden?”

“Shush.” Harry retorts fondly. “You’re avoiding the point I’m trying to make. All I’m saying is that you seem… I don’t know, hesitant about the fact that I’d be interested in you. At least, you seemed that way at one point. I’m just struggling to reconcile that feeling with the confident, flirtatious side of you that could chat up any omega you ever wanted.”

“Parenthood.” Louis replies simply, nonplussed at the assumptions that hinge upon Harry’s words. He doesn’t mind the fact that he’s complex… and maybe a little emotionally cautious when it comes to his own love life. There’s nothing wrong with containing multitudes. “We haven’t talked about our dating history in much detail, have we?”

Harry hums, shaking his head. “Not really. Aside from it being a – quote – long time – for both of us. I assumed that meant everything – sex, dating, relationships, the likes.”

“Are you comfy, darling?”

Harry blinks up at him confusedly. “Yeah, Lou, very.”

“Right then. Story time.” Louis laughs at the end of a long exhale. “Let me take you back to the most embarrassing moment of my life to date – nine years ago. Somehow, this even outranks having to tell my mum that I got my soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend pregnant a month before we graduated uni.”

“Oh, honey.” Harry coos, coasting his hand up and down Louis’ arm. “I’m all ears.”

Louis could launch into the story, or he could tease Harry for another minute before they get too serious. “You’re all over my arm, is what you are.”

Harry’s hand freezes, his face heating as a sheepish smile spreads across his lips. It’s obvious how he dances between embarrassed and brazen, as if deciding which he wants to lead with to yield the desired response. Whatever that response may be. 

Harry lands somewhere endearingly in between, whining out his excuse. “I told you that I’m going to feel up your arm. It’s not a one-time promise.”

“I don’t want it to be.” Louis agrees. “As long as I can tease you for it.”

“If you tease me enough, I’m going to take my pants off.” Harry pauses. “With consent, of course.”

“Of course.”

Harry pouts after a moment of charged eye contact. “You’re distracting me. And yourself. I want to hear about your most embarrassing moment, please.“

“That’s a weird fucking dive into intimacy, love.”

“You’re the one who suggested it in the first place! And now I want to hear it!”

“Greedy boy.” Louis mutters through a smile, earning an enthusiastic nod.

“I am , Louis.”

“Alright. Picture this.” Louis starts dramatically, extending the arm not cradling Harry to his body. With motions of emphasis, he sets the scene. “I’m a twenty-seven-year old dad to a four year old daughter. I haven’t dated anyone since uni, and I haven’t slept with anyone since Jo’s birth. Just wasn’t in the cards for me.”

“I’m following.” Harry interjects, interested.

“Well, my best mates, Zayn and Niall, offer to watch Jo for the night. I ask them what the hell I’m going to do if they’re watching my daughter, because my only idea of a night out was drinks with the lads. Turns out, they had a blind date planned for me, and thus, I was excommunicated from my own home and forced to meet up with an unsuspecting man called Trent.”

“Trent.” Harry repeats slowly. “Don’t love that name. Kinda sounds like a douche already.”

“As much as I’d like to blame Trent for the shitty night, it really wasn’t his fault.” Louis clicks his tongue. “Poor man. I sometimes wonder how he’s doing. Anyway. So there I was: thrown into this date without warning, anxious about leaving my toddler at home, and totally unprepared to be back on the market with a kid at home . Do you get the mental gymnastics there?”

Harry groans. “Ten-thousand percent, Lou. That’s one part of this story you don’t need to explain to me.”

“Good, because I needed to explain that to my friends long before they decided to set me up on a mandatory blind date.” Louis huffs, but shakes his head fondly at the memory. “They were just looking out for me, really. I love ‘em to death. But god, I was not ready. Trent was lovely, the food was fine, but then –” Louis laughs sharply. “We – well, Trent – decided to go for a walk. I wanted to go home, but I was going to be a kind date and give it a shot. The conversation wasn’t terrible or anything, but all I could think about was Jo. It wasn’t short term worry, either. It was all – if I listen too closely to what Trent’s saying, maybe I’ll start to like him, and maybe I’ll want to get to know him more, and maybe then I’ll have to emotionally invest in another person, and maybe I’ll have to introduce him to Jo – what if he’s a shit parent to Jo if things get serious – what if Jo hates him – what if he leaves us and all I do is bring heartbreak into my daughter’s life –”

Louis sighs, his breath coming out shuddery. He’s relived this moment countless times with trusted people – his mum, his therapist, his mates, his sisters, even. But this time, the panic that mounts in his mind at telling Harry swirls in a dizzying whirlpool not unlike how he felt that night with Trent. Maybe it has something to do with the way his heart beats out of his chest at how much he wants Harry to hold him through his worries, today and beyond. There’s so much more at stake with him.

“Honey, breathe.” Harry’s hand slides gently across his chest, a gentle weight against his sternum. “You’re alright, Lou. I’ve got you. Only tell me what you’re ready to tell me.”

Closing his eyes, he steadies himself with a few deep breaths, just like his therapist taught him to do in one of their very first sessions. Harry’s hand stays warm and constant on his chest as it rises and falls, and Louis lets his own hand drift up to rest on top of his. 

The panic doesn’t dissipate entirely, but the fizzling edges of urgency mellow out underneath their palms. Nine years later, he’s different than he was before. Harry is certainly unlike anyone he’s ever met – and yeah, maybe that’s why this type of safety is new as well. Maybe it’s unique to what he’s building with Harry.

“Trent tried to kiss me.” Louis continues, letting his eyes crack open again. “And I wanted him to, if only to prove to myself that I could be… be normal again. Christ, I wasn’t even asking myself to go back to having casual sex like I did in uni before I met Ava. I just wanted to be a person who could kiss his date and not overthink it.”

“ Baby .” Harry murmurs softly, watching him with open, earnest eyes.

“We kissed for about two seconds before I pushed him away.” Louis says. “And not only that, I started crying. Like full-out, heaving fucking sobs. I couldn’t even put words together to tell him what was going on, and this poor guy just helped me over to a nearby bench and sat at the other end of it until I stopped hyperventilating. He then called me a car to make sure I got home safely, and I –” Louis swallows. “I’ve never felt less like myself than I did in that moment. It was all so fucking out of body, like… I’m decently in touch with my emotions. I try not to ignore them, and I’m not embarrassed by them. But fuck, I’m not a crier. Not like that .”

“You just weren’t ready.” Harry surmises, and Louis smiles ruefully. 

“Yeah, I definitely fucking wasn’t. And so I called Zayn and Niall on the ride home, trying to pull myself together enough to not wake Jo when I got there. Blubbered out some explanation to them – don’t really remember much of it. They apologized when I got home, which only made me feel like shit since they were just trying to do something nice for me. But yeah, I haven’t dated since. So it’s been literally thirteen years, not counting that one horrendous night.”

“Oh, Lou.” Harry breathes, stroking over his cheek. Louis leans into the touch, taking a deep breath and willing his heart to settle.

“That’s why I want to take things slow.” He admits softly. “I don’t want to feel that panic again, and I definitely don’t want to feel that with you . By now, I know that it’s not you that causes me to feel anxious about dating, but I also don’t want to associate that feeling with you and mess up something good.”

“That makes sense, honey.” Harry soothes. “It’s a unique kind of trauma, almost.”

“But I don’t like the ways in which it’s held me back.” Louis continues. “I want to give myself over to romance and love and dating, especially with the right person. Especially with you.”

“You’re just protecting yourself. There’s nothing to be mad at.” Harry insists, stroking down over his shoulder. “That part of you is important to me, okay? I don’t resent you for needing to wait. I’m still happy right where we are. I promise.”

Louis closes his eyes again, focusing on his breathing. I n for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Repeat. Harry is different, and Harry is steady. Like he promised Harry before, he needs to take his own advice and trust him as much as he trusts himself.

Maybe the difference between him and Harry is that he needs to learn to trust himself in the first place.

******

The next morning should bring another normal day, but alas, nothing can ever be simple.

“Oh – oh, Jesus.” Louis closes his eyes as fast as he opened them, desperately patting around on his nightstand for his blaring phone. He’s long since used to the early alarm, ready to get up around the same time as Jo and make sure she’s on track for the day ahead. The difference today is the raging headache and pressure embedded deep in his face, a feverish undertone to his ailments. No one likes being sick, but it makes Louis especially grumpy. What a shit day already.

Nonetheless, he stumbles out of bed and into the hallway, knocking on Jo’s door to make sure she’s up and moving. After making sure her shouted “I’m awake, Dad!” isn’t sleep-talk – it wouldn’t be unusual with his daughter – he heads to the kitchen, throwing a few pieces of toast into the toaster.

A few minutes later, with Jo’s toast slathered in raspberry jam and set on the table, Louis slumps into a dining chair behind a steaming cup of tea and a hefty bottle of paracetamol. He manages to lift his head from the back of the chair when hurried footsteps patter into the kitchen, but just barely.

“Just a reminder that I have practice –” Jo studies him carefully as she drops into her chair. “Are you sick, Dad?”

Louis nods, the soupy feeling in his head sloshing around with the motion. “Woke up feeling a bit shit, but I’ll be alright.”

“You don’t look good, Dad.”

Louis snorts, closing his eyes again. “Thanks, love.”

“No, seriously.” Her chair squeaks against the floor as she rushes around the table to rest her palm on his forehead. “You’re burning up. You can’t drive me to school like this.”

“Darling, I’ve done much more while feeling much worse. I’m alright. Don’t worry about me.”

The huff of Jo’s breath reads both stubborn and unimpressed. “I’m going over to Harry’s to see if he’ll drive me.”

Louis’ eyes shoot open at that, back going rigid as his achy muscles propel him to sit up straight. “No, Jo, you can’t impose that on him. I know he offers every now and again, but you can’t demand it.”

“We’ve driven Silas to and from school when Harry has to work. Do you think he’s imposing on us?”

“No, well –” Louis sighs. “Harry gives me advance warning when he asks me to pick up or drop off Silas. We have about…” He glances to his phone. “...fifteen minutes before you need to be out the door. And that’s pushing it.”

“Dad, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Harry loves me.” Jo insists, already running to the front door. “I’ll be right back –”

“Jo, no – Josette ! Fucking hell.” Louis grumbles, pushing himself into a standing position. He definitely doesn’t have to steady himself against the chair before heading outside. Definitely not.

By the time he treks across both his and Harry’s dewy yards, barefoot and in a ratty t-shirt and thin pajama pants, Harry is already chatting with Jo on his doorstep. As soon as Louis drags himself into view, Harry immediately meets his eyes, a concerned pout to his lips as his eyebrows draw inwards.

“Dad, Harry said it’s fine! He can take me to school and pick me up. Go back to bed.”

“ Josette Monroe .” Taking a deep, steadying breath, Louis reminds himself that his daughter is only trying to help him. She’s just worried about you and is going to a trusted adult for help. He looks apologetically to Harry. “I’m so sorry. I’m perfectly fine to drive Jo to school; she just had a fire lit under her ass about asking you.”

“Lou, stop.” Harry says gently, stepping out of the house and into Louis’ space. Louis’ hand twitches, instinct nearly driving him to — he doesn’t fucking know, cover his mouth and nose in a futile attempt to keep Harry from getting sick? God, a crush makes you do crazy things. He refrains from acting weirder than he already has, instead letting Harry rest the back of his hand on his forehead. The proximity heats his face further, butterflies knocking around in his stomach with the illness-induced nausea. “You’re definitely running a fever. Let me take Jo to school, and I’ll grab you some soup on the way home, yeah?”

Louis fidgets awkwardly under Harry’s unyielding concern. “Harry, really, I’m fine. I’ve handled being sick and being a dad for thirteen years —“

“I know, and I know you could continue to handle it.” Harry interrupts, a stern fondness punctuating his words. “But I’m here, and I want to help. You don’t have to handle it on your own.”

“I’m going to grab my stuff.” Jo decides, alerting the two adults before she hurries back to their house, likely collecting the rest of her breakfast alongside her backpack and football bag.

You don’t have to handle it on your own.

Louis’ shoulders slump as the truth of the statement rattles around in his overtired brain. It’s easy to give in to Harry when he coats his kindness in nonnegotiable stubbornness. He also feels really, really sick. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, it would be a big help.”

“‘Course, Lou.” Harry smiles. “Let me play nurse for you today?”

Louis blanches. “We only agreed on transporting my child.”

Harry’s voice turns sickly sweet. The sincerity that drips from his words makes Louis shiver, a pleasant and yet anxious spark that travels down his spine – massively different from the chills wracking the rest of his body. “C’mon, honey. Let me take care of you. I’m working from home today, obviously. It’s an easy job to bring to your house.”

“Harry, I —“ Mouth dry, the spiral kicks into high gear. He promised Harry that they’d have their conversation soon; that he’d do some real thinking and come back to him with some real answers before they started something serious. The thought of trying to articulate how he feels through the haze of illness seems impossible, and he can’t have Harry puttering around and playing the devoted partner to someone who can’t even say that he wants him long-term.

Even if he knows he does, speaking the truth makes it real .

“— I want to talk, but I —“ Louis flounders, and Harry immediately shakes his head, running his hands up and down Louis’ bare arms.

“Oh, Lou. No . No, love. I don’t expect… anything of you today. I want to take care of you because I care about you, conversation aside.” Harry blinks back at him meaningfully. “And besides, although I want words… I know . I’m alright with investing myself a bit early.”

“You deserve words, though, Harry.” Louis insists, feeling the ground beneath him start to swallow him whole. “It’s not fair –”

“Let me decide what’s fair to me, okay?” Harry nods once, not allowing Louis a response and effectively ending the conversation. “Go back to bed, love. I’ll meet you at yours.”

Louis sighs, running a shaky hand through his sweaty hair. “I’ll try not to be too grumpy about this.”

“ Aww .” Harry coos, all tease and sarcasm. He earns a very, very heavy eye roll for that one. 

“Okay, I’m ready.” Jo bounds back to Harry’s doorstep. She pauses as soon as she stills, a flash of shame passing across  her face as she hangs her head and turns to Louis. “Sorry, Dad. I know I didn’t listen to you.”

“You’re alright, darling.” Louis says softly, petting through her hair. He doesn’t have the energy to fight her this morning, and really, he’s not that upset. “Thank you for apologizing. How about we focus on thanking Harry, hm?”

“Thank you, Harry.” Jo says easily, the tips of her ears warming as she faces their neighbor. “And I’m sorry for assuming that you’d be able to take me to school. I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it all.”

Pride swells in Louis’ chest at Jo’s unprompted apology. He has the best kid. 

“Not a problem, Jo. I’m happy to do so, and I’m sure Silas is excited –” Harry frowns, glancing at the time on his phone. “Speaking of which, where is Si?” He turns back into his house. “Si?”

“I’m coming, Mum!” Blonde curls spilling over his haste-reddened face, Silas barrels towards the foyer with paper clutched in his hand. “I couldn’t find an envelope, though.”

Harry pets through his hair, his smile turning confused. “An envelope? Is there something you need to hand in at school that needs an envelope?”

“No, um.” Silas turns shy all of a sudden, glancing up at Louis through his lashes. “I made you a get well soon card, Louis. I started drawing as soon as I heard Jo say that you’re sick.”

“Oh, kiddo, thank you.” Warmth blossoms in his chest at the continued, slow acceptance of Silas’ affections. Like his mother, his thoughtfulness astounds Louis at every turn. “I’d give you a hug, lad, but I don’t want to get you sick.”

Silas nods, bunny teeth digging into his bottom lip as he smiles. “That’s okay. You can hug me when you’re not sick.”

“A raincheck, for sure. I love a cuddle.” Louis replies, making a show of flipping through Silas’ colored pencil-coated card. It’s nothing more than a haphazardly folded letter size sheet of printer paper, boasting the words “GET WELL SOON LOUIS!!” in all caps and a few quick drawings of medical supplies, flowers, and balloons, but Louis is going to treasure this card. What are the ethics of hanging your neighbor’s kid’s drawing on your fridge? Will that make your teenager jealous? He makes a mental note to call his mum and ask about that later. “Ah, yeah, definitely going to need a lot of tissues. Well thought-out drawing, Si!”

Silas’ chest puffs with pride, bouncing on the balls of his feet at the praise. “Mum always makes me a card when I’m ill, and I like to put it by my bed. You can have one now, too!”

“I will do that right away.” Louis nods, just as Jo gasps from beside him.

“Um, we’re like… at least five minutes behind schedule right now.” She alerts, pocketing her phone and hoisting her football bag over her shoulder. “Harry, can I take shotgun?”

“‘Course, Jo. Ready to go, Si?”

With both kids’ affirmations, Harry unlocks the car and shoos them towards the driveway. Louis blows a kiss to Jo, ready to thank Harry again and head back to the house, but Harry stops him with a frantic grab of his arm.

“I need you to know.” Harry begins, voice dropped low as he stares wide-eyed back at Louis. “How sexy you are. How sexy that was.”

Louis’ mouth runs dry. He nearly glances down at his ratty pajamas in disbelief, but Harry’s hurried words keep him focused on letting him speak. “Um, what? The card?”

“I know you’re going to say that you’re a parent too and that it’s just instinct, but…” Harry huffs out a breathy laugh. “It’s your instinct, and it’s sexy . I don’t know, I – I find pretty much everything you do sexy, so. I guess I’m biased.”

Lips curling into a smirk in spite of his shock at the outburst of flattery, Louis grins. “You’re particularly loose-lipped this morning, love.”

“Kinda tired of pretending that I’m not obsessed with you.” Harry shrugs, beaming over his shoulder as he turns on his heel in the direction of the car. “If I’ve been pretending at all.”

“You haven’t been.” Louis retorts, drowning in fondness.

“Good!”

Instead of making the trek back to his house, Louis stands on Harry’s stoop and watches the car pull away, waving all the while. He shouldn’t be surprised at the soft pang in his chest – it’s merely his reminder that his entire heart is currently traveling out of sight, all three of its occupants rolling out of their neighborhood.

******

Listen. Louis tries to fight through the pain when he’s sick. His fight is borne of twelve years of parenthood and thirty-six years of stubbornness. 

But if he’s truly honest with himself, at his core, he’s really just a big baby.

Currently bundled up in bed, he groans through the shivers. He runs cold on the daily, but being sick grants him a new level of shaking and shivering. It’s a miracle he hears the front door open with how deeply he’s smushed into his pillows.

A knock on his cracked bedroom door precedes Harry’s sweet-smiling head poking through the doorway. “Oh, honey.” He coos, all cloying and sincere. “Did you take anything?”

“Paracetamol this morning.” He mumbles, too tired to fight off the creeping sensation of worry at Harry seeing him so… well, disgusting. Vulnerability itches underneath his skin, uncomfortable at its exposure. “Nothing else.”

Harry hums, approaching his bed. “Let’s get a decongestant in you as well, Lou. And some food. I’m making you protein oatmeal.”

Louis realizes a second too late that he probably shouldn’t wrinkle his nose at Harry’s generosity. Luckily, Harry just laughs, rolling his eyes fondly. “It’ll taste mostly of peanut butter, I promise. Not that you’ll be able to taste it with how stuffed up you are. It’ll also be easy to eat and feel good on your throat.”

“‘S fine.” Louis nods, attempting to translate how grateful he is, even if he has to eat oatmeal. “Thanks, H.”

“No problem, love.”

Time is meaningless when you’re sick. Harry reappears in his room what feels like either seconds or hours later, holding a steaming bowl of brown mush. Under any other circumstances, Louis would politely accept the bowl but then pretend he’s too nauseous to eat. Unfortunately, his growling stomach does him no favors in pretending to not be hungry.

“I’ll feed it to you, if you’d like.” Harry teases, and the prospect of having to be fed his porridge like an infant is enough for him to push himself upwards so that he’s resting against his headboard.

“I’m not that incapacitated. Yet.” Louis retorts, smiling softly as he accepts the bowl. At least Harry garnished the dish with a few sliced bananas to hide the sludge underneath.. “Thanks, babe. You didn’t have to.”

“Seriously, you need to stop with that today. I want to.” Harry insists, sitting gingerly on the edge of his mattress. “You’ll be sick of me by the end of the day anyway. I’m going to sit here and make sure you eat all of your food.”

Louis’ bottom lip rolls itself into a pathetic pout. “Fucking hell.”

“Don’t even think about it if it’s that gross to you. Just put it in your mouth and swallow.” Harry pauses, a bright flush zinging across his cheeks. “And other things I’d say to you in your bedroom.”

Coughing through a laugh that rips itself out of his chest, Louis smirks. “Oh, darling. I would have no hesitation about eating in that situation.”

“Shut up.” Harry flounders, shaking his head while an embarrassed little smile takes over his face. “You can’t blame me; this is the first time I’ve been in your room without a heavy dose of scent neutralizers.”

“Shit, Harry.” Louis gapes, his stomach dropping to his ass. With how sweaty and unshowered he is, his scent has to be ten times more potent than usual. He doesn’t know how he’d stand it if the situation was flipped. “Babe, you really don’t have to be here. I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t want to hear that excuse again.” Harry chides firmly. “Drink some water.”

“You’re using your mum voice on me.” Louis points out, obediently taking a sip from the glass on his bedside table. “It’s cute.”

“It’s working.”

“Two things can be true.”

“You like when I boss you around.” Harry muses, confident in his observation. Louis will give credit where credit is due, and yeah, he’s right. He likes being under Harry’s thumb a little too much.

“Three things can be true.” Louis grants him. “But don’t pretend that you’re not slicking up your pants over being near my nest.”

“I’m not pretending, Lou. I’ve been very open about the fact that your scent affects me.” Harry scrubs a hand through his hair, beaming in spite of his blush. “Aren’t you too sick to flirt with me? You’re definitely too sick to fuck me.”

“Jesus, H.” Louis husks, breathless and swimming in hot flashes of both arousal and fever. Admittedly, it is an unpleasant sensation. “This is a mutual issue. You could go home.”

“Why do you want to kick me out so badly?” Harry huffs, rolling his eyes. “You should try to get some sleep after you eat. I’m going to make you soup for lunch.”

Louis sighs, giving in easily. As he always does with Harry. “With a cuppa, please?”

“‘Course, Lou. I want to see that bowl empty when I come to check on you.”

Louis narrows his eyes at him as he stands. “What are you going to do while I’m sleeping?”

“Rearrange all your furniture by just a couple centimeters so you stub your toe every time you walk through your living room.” He deadpans. “I brought my laptop to do some work, if that’s alright. Just figured I’d hang out here.”

“You know you’re always welcome here.” Louis says softly, stirring his oatmeal as he works up the courage to take a bite. “Love seeing you on my couch, whether you’re caring for me or not.”

Harry ducks his head at the admission, hand on the doorknob. “I’m always caring for you, Lou. Might just look different when you don’t have a fever.”

He leaves Louis alone with his oatmeal, his illness, and his thoughts. His racing thoughts, really. I’m always caring for you, Lou. I’m always caring. For you.

Right now, he’d rather choke down some globby oatmeal concoction than deal with unpacking everything Harry so openly communicates. He shares his care – his desire – for Louis with the subtlety of billboards next to a major highway. At every exit, there’s another sign that features Harry’s smiling face and sparkling eyes saying “I want you, Louis, but I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

Swallowing a bite of his breakfast, he shrugs to himself. The peanut butter really does mask a world of hurt, and Harry’s right – he doesn’t have to chew much to get it down. Unlike the truth, the oatmeal is easy to swallow.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SIX: HARRY

At the sound of Louis’ bedroom door opening, Harry immediately stands from his perch behind the kitchen island. It’s a testament to how deeply he’s fallen for Louis when his heart skips a beat and his omega perks up at the sight of the – quite frankly, disgusting – alpha. But if he’s honest with himself, Harry loves him like this. Disgusting. Gross. A little bit of drool caked on the corner of his mouth, his sweat-soaked t-shirt clinging to his chest. With any other guy, the lack of deodorant and the way that he wipes under his nose with the back of his hand would be more than a little repulsive.

But this – a sick, unshowered Louis – is a major step in shared intimacy. In fact, Harry rejoices over the unmanicured presentation of the man before him, and oh god, he’s even wearing his reading glasses. Fuck. His scent stinks up the first floor as soon as his bedroom door opens, and Harry is a weak, weak man.

“Hey, you. Feeling any better?” Harry coos, rounding the island to approach him and hopefully not bury his nose in his neck. Or his armpits. His smoky, ambery undertone shines through when he’s a little more rugged, the juicy, dark cherry note of his scent relegated to the background. Before Louis can even speak, Harry has the back of his hand pressed to his forehead. “Hm, feels like your fever went down! You should take more paracetamol if you haven’t already.”

“I took some before I came out here, love. Probably could’ve done with a shower too, but.” Louis chuckles to himself. “I shouldn’t ask you for this. I’m sick, and like I said – I really need a shower.”

A kiss? Mouth-to-mouth for increased oxygen supply? A very willing and needy omega? He’ll bend over this counter right now. “Anything.” Harry blurts.

Louis laughs once, but not at Harry – at himself; still so self-deprecating. Harry’s heart aches to hold him and promise him that he’s so wanted just as he is. “A cuddle, please? Woke up feeling better, but my alpha’s feeling all… off. Kind of wouldn’t let me get a shower before I checked on you first.”

“Oh, honey.” Harry breathes, already opening his arms. “You don’t have to ask, Lou.”

“I’m all disgusting.” Louis grumbles, folding himself into Harry’s chest. “‘Course I needed to ask.”

“No. No.” Harry smushes his face into Louis’ damp hair, taking a deep pull. He doesn’t care if Louis can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest and the racing of his heart. “You smell good.”

“That’s impossible, Haz.” Louis retorts. “Don’t make me want to scent you.”

Harry’s breath hitches. Louis laughs. “‘Course you’d like that. I’m absolutely rank, love. Like… really, really foul.”

“I know.” Harry swallows, barely refraining from taking another pull from his hair. “Trust me, my nose is working. But so is my omega.”

“Hm. Your omega’s fucking weird if it’s attracted to this.” He gestures down his body, stepping away from Harry with a teasing grin. His hesitantly cocky smile does absolutely nothing to calm Harry’s omega, practically begging to take over and force Louis from his own house to take up residence in his nest.

“I’m a weird person. And I made you soup. It’s just warming on the stove.”

“You’re lovely.” Louis gushes, skating his hand up Harry’s side. “Hey, um. Thank you for being here, H. Makes me – my alpha – feel a bit more settled.”

“Louis, you haven’t even tried the soup yet. You can’t want me as a live-in cook already.”

“Fucking hell, Harry.” He laughs, shaking his head. “I’m trying to tell you that I like having you around, babe. That I want you around more . Not for the soup.”

Harry giggles; he can’t help it. “I make really good soup.”

“You’re really campaigning hard for this soup.”

“You need to eat, so. Sue me.”

“Let me take a shower first.” Louis suggests gently, squeezing Harry’s wrist before he releases him. Harry practically arches into the space his touch left, begging for more. His lament going unnoticed, Louis turns in the direction of his bedroom. “I’ll have some soup when I come back, yeah?”

“Sure, Lou.” Harry agrees. “We can eat together on our lunch break.”

Louis grins over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Well, you’re on sick leave, so I’m not sure if it counts as a lunch break.” He teases, warmth flooding his chest. “But meet me out here after your shower, Lou.”

“I will, babe.”

******

The shower seems to wake Louis up a bit more, his eyes brighter as he sits across from Harry in front of the steaming bowl of soup waiting for him. Harry’s heart still aches for him, yearning to clear the dark circles from underneath his eyes and the pale tint from his cheeks. Annoyingly, his omega chants from the depths of his mind, begging Harry to take Louis to his nest and keep him safe and warm.

“This smells great, H.”

Nest. Nest. Nest.

“Thank you for making it.”

Nest. Nest. Nest.

“Babe, are you alright?”

Only then does Harry realize he’s staring at Louis without responding to any of his remarks. Fucking shit.

Nest. Nest. Nest.

“After you eat, you’re resting in my nest.” Harry blurts out, eyes widening as he realizes he did not frame that as a question. “I mean – shit. Well. I mean…?”

Louis blinks back at him, mouth hanging open. “ Your nest?”

“Yes.” Harry all but whines, his omega so desperate for Louis’ comfort. “My nest, please. My omega needs you there – if you want. Please.”

Gently setting his spoon back into his bowl, Louis visibly swallows. For a split second, Harry worries that Louis is uncomfortable with the idea, taking a minute to figure out how to politely decline Harry’s request. Just when his anxiety spikes, Louis’ face breaks out into a gentle smile – almost bashful in its softness. “If you want me there, I’d be honored.”

Harry exhales slowly, letting giddy excitement settle alongside the relief of knowing Louis will be safe in his nest. Nodding towards Louis’ bowl, he urges him to hurry up. “Eat before it gets cold.”

“Bossy omega.” Louis mutters fondly, but picks up his spoon nonetheless.

******

The instant Harry opens the door to his bedroom, his omega decides to take over. First: fluffing the pillows to make sure that they’re not too stiff against his alpha’s neck. He then moves to the blankets, untucking the throw blanket and pulling his duvet back from the mattress. He doesn’t sleep with many nesting materials around him since he tends to run hot, so he grabs a few throw blankets off of a nearby chair and adds them to the nest.

“Harry, I –” Louis calls from behind him, stepping closer to the nest in slow, careful motions. “I don’t have any neutralizers on today, babe. I didn’t refresh them after my shower.”

A quiet moan shudders out of Harry’s chest. Of course he can tell that Louis smells stronger in his illness, and he didn’t expect him to reapply topical neutralizers when he’s sick. But the admission that he’ll be in his nest with the full force of his scent still sends his omega into overdrive. He’s only grateful that Louis is so congested that he might not be able to smell the slick rapidly pooling between his legs.

“‘S okay.” He nods, voice hoarse with want. “I don’t mind. My omega really doesn’t mind.”

“Are you sure you want me getting in your nest when I’m sick, love? I don’t want to pass this on to you.”

“Oh, I’ve accepted my fate.” Harry retorts easily. “I’d like to be in my nest with you, if that’s okay.”

Louis squirms in place for a minute, choosing his next words carefully. “That’s perfect, H. But… would you be willing to wash off your neutralizers, too? I figured I’d ask if I’m already going to be in your nest.”

“That’s –” Harry’s mouth runs bone dry. “Yes, yes. Louis .”

“‘M not too sick for a cuddle, and I’m not too sick for a chat.” He says, glancing towards the nest. “May I?”

“Get in here right now.” Harry orders, heart jumping at the affectionate laugh his order draws from Louis. “I’ll be right back; I’m just going to wash off my neutralizers in the en suite.”

When Harry returns, he finds Louis curled into the nest, gently tucking himself underneath the covers. The thought of him being cold propels Harry into the nest with urgency, tucking himself under the same blankets and pulling Louis tight to his chest.

Instinctively, Louis’ nose nuzzles against his neck, finding his scent gland for the first time. Despite not being able to smell at full strength, he still sucks in a breath against his skin, and the force of it is enough to send a shiver down Harry’s spine. His hands grasp at Louis’ t-shirt, drawing him nearer.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” Louis murmurs, voice rough. “Just can’t get enough of you. Your scent makes me feel at peace. I think… I think I can finally smell the jasmine note you’ve mentioned, babe.”

“Green tea and jasmine.” Harry whispers into his hair, pursing his lips against his head. “God, Lou. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. Fuck.”

“What, me being so incapacitated that you have to care for me?” Louis teases, snuggling closer. His chapped lips brush against Harry’s neck, pulling a whimper from the omega. “That’s an odd dream, love.”

Harry rolls his eyes, though he knows Louis has his closed. “Sure, Lou. That’s exactly what I meant.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He chuckles. “Tell me for real, baby.”

“You. My nest. No neutralizers.” Harry sighs, biting back the instinct to purr. “Peace.”

“Could throw love in there, if I’m honest.”

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat. “ Louis .”

The alpha picks his head up enough to lock eyes with Harry, smiling serenely. “Could I tell you what’s been on my mind? Maybe getting sick was my body’s way of making me take a day off to really think about how I want to say this.”

Harry nods, trying not to appear too eager. “I’m all ears, honey.”

Louis sighs. “I’ve been thinking about my relationship with, well, relationships. For me, the fear lies less in the feelings, but more in the longevity of it all.”

“I see, Lou.”

“It’s not that I don’t think I have the capacity for love or that I think someone wouldn’t ever love me .” Louis explains, smiling gently. He’s so soft right now, all cozied up in his matching hoodie and jogger set. He’s the perfect addition to Harry’s nest; warm and soothing as he traces shapes across Harry’s back as he speaks. Louis chuckles to himself, gesturing flippantly with his hand. “I’ve talked about this a lot with my therapist. I know I am capable of giving and receiving intimacy and love because of the evidence in my life. Jo is my world, and my mum and my siblings are everything to me. That love has been enough for so long.”

“It’s a different kind of love, though, isn’t it?” Harry muses, not unkindly. Louis hums through an affirming nod, understanding where he’s coming from.

“It is, but the investment and commitment required in those relationships is similar. At least, similar in how I’d like to be a dad, a son, a brother, and a partner. And I don’t know… I think I did love Ava when we were together. Maybe not in the way a boyfriend should love a girlfriend, but —“ he snorts. “That was less about me as a partner and more about me as a gay man. I did love her as a friend.”

“You loved her so much that you let her live the life she wanted.” Harry says, stroking the stubble that stretches down the enticing line of Louis’ neck. He loves the velvety roughness under his fingers almost as much as imagines loving it against his mouth or his thighs. 

Louis shakes his head. “She gave me a gift. It wasn’t initially how I imagined it happening, but being a dad is the life I’ve always wanted. We talked about ending the pregnancy, as you know. Neither of us were fundamentally against that as an option.” He sighs, a wistful echo of conversations passed. “Ava was willing to go through the pregnancy so I could have my dream life. Her pregnancy was really our final act of love for one another. She carried my dream into reality, and in turn, I gave her a clean break and a life path she was excited about.”

“Lou, that’s…” Harry swallows around the lump in his throat. Louis has the unique ability to move him to tears with just a few words; earnestly said and emotionally charged. His sincerity washes over Harry with a heavy, calming pressure — a weighted blanket of shared intimacy. “What a beautiful way to think about that time in your life.”

“I think about her sometimes.” Louis murmurs, staring at the ceiling. “She was always so fiery and ambitious. I can only ever picture her kicking ass and smashing ceilings.”

“Sounds just a bit like Jo.” Harry giggles, tracing Louis’ smile lines as his lips pull upward at the mention of his daughter’s name. “And a lot like you. Sounds like you were two peas in a pod.”

“For a time, yeah. But we knew we wouldn’t last, my sexuality aside. But it was good.” Louis pauses, glancing down at Harry. The intensity of the fondness in his gaze makes Harry’s heart stutter, choking on the flowers that bloom suddenly in his chest. “That’s all one can ask for, isn’t it? To be loved in the way that you need to be loved at any given moment, even if it doesn’t last.”

Fingertips dance across lightly parted lips. “That’s a nice thought, but I think we can ask for longevity, Lou. We can ask for it to last.”

A beat of silence passes, save from the soft smack of Louis’ lips as he kisses the pads of Harry’s fingers. This close to his face, Harry can almost hear the sound of him swallowing, watching his adam’s apple bob. 

“I want this to last.” Louis breathes. “I think I’m asking for that.”

Harry nods. He doesn’t stop nodding. “Me too. I’m asking for that too.”

A beat of silence, then: “I can’t kiss you when I’m sick.” Louis whispers, but Harry’s mouth is much too close to his for it to matter.

“Yes, you fucking can.” Harry retorts, leaning forward to connect their lips and once again dive into what he wants headfirst.

Their kiss is slow, meandering in its pace as their lips push and pull against one another. Harry curls himself smaller against Louis’ body, tucking himself into his arms as he hums into the kiss. Louis’ tongue swipes against the seam of his lips, and Harry parts easily for him, letting Louis set the speed.

Louis kisses more indulgently than Harry imagined. Maybe his perception was always warped because he imagined them coming together in a fit of passion, but he’s even more weak for the way that Louis sucks on his bottom lip and swipes their tongues together in a luxurious glide. It’s the kind of kiss that makes you feel like you’re drowning – not from a lack of air, but instead from drinking in too much of the other person. His hands slip from Louis’ hair down to his shoulders, unabashedly digging his fingernails into the skin as Louis presses forward, kissing him into the pillows.

“Fucking hell.” Louis gasps as they break apart, his breath hot on Harry’s ear as he kisses his neck. “Can’t believe it took me this fucking long. Christ. I need you under my fucking skin.”

Harry whimpers at the gruff quality to Louis’ voice, as if the roughness was kissed into his throat. “I want to be there. Please.”

Louis nods, smiling against his skin. “Stay, please. For a long time.”

“I will. I will. I will.” Harry sighs happily against him. “Lou, did you decide to tell me this just in time for the kids’ sleepaway football camp, or is that just a coincidence?”

“Christ, I didn’t even think about that.” He exclaims, lips sliding into a lecherous smirk. “A week alone, baby? Fuck me.”

“Fuck me .” Harry all but moans. “If you want me, I’m yours all week. In all senses of the word.”

“I’d love for you to be mine after the week is done, babe, but yes. Same with me.”

“I’d love that too.” Harry murmurs, indulging his omega by burying his head deep into Louis’ neck.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SEVEN: LOUIS

By the time the kids get home from school, both adults are back in their respective homes, thoroughly kissed and oversaturated in the other’s scent. Louis showers before heading out to collect Jo, downing more paracetamol despite feeling much better than this morning.

Maybe Harry’s the real medicine he needed.

Before he left Harry’s house, he promised to talk to Jo about his relationship with Harry. It’s a step that offers both of them a level of comfort; Louis needs to reassure Jo that he will always be there for her, and Harry wants Louis to feel at ease with the changes that are about to come before they make things official official.

So, once Jo settles in her room before bedtime, he treks up the stairs to visit her. At the sound of his soft knock, his daughter’s voice filters through the door. “Come in!”

As he opens the door, Jo’s questioning smile turns confused, instantly reading his nervous demeanor. Louis wonders for a brief second if she can smell the anxiety rolling off of him, making his hands clammy as he wipes them on his thighs. “Can we chat for a bit, love? I… I have some things I need to talk to you about.”

“Sure, yeah.” Jo scoots over in her full size bed, leaving plenty of room for him to sit on the edge of her mattress. “Is something wrong? Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah, darling, everything’s fine.” Louis exhales loudly, forcing himself to meet her eyes. Jo is everything to him – even as she grows older, the earnest, honest trust she automatically extends to him always knocks him off-kilter. Their little life has only ever held the two of them; their bubble is safe and warm and secure. Expanding said bubble could bring more love into their lives, but it could also pop the delicate enclosure. And if there’s one thing Louis wants to do in his life, it’s to protect his daughter from heartache for as long as possible. Ever since Ava got pregnant, Louis vowed to be there for Jo. He would give up everything for her, and really, he thinks he’d be content with that as his life’s work.

But maybe there is some truth to what his mum told him. He’s always trusted her word above anyone else’s, and she knows what it’s like to raise a child on her own. Maybe letting himself be loved will model for Jo the kind of love she deserves from her future partner. 

Louis clears his throat, already feeling tears sprout behind his eyes. “I am so lucky to be your dad, Josette. You’re a force to be reckoned with, love. You’re bright, kind, and bold. You make me so proud.”

“Dad, you’re scaring me.” Jo laughs worriedly. “I mean, thank you. I just – you look like you’re about to cry! Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Fuck, I’m messing this all up.” Louis chuckles wetly, shaking his head. “I’m being dramatic. I just want you to know how much I love you.”

“I do, Dad, I promise. I really do.”

“Okay.” Louis sighs, taking her hand atop her duvet. “I met someone, Jo. And I really like him. But before we start – well – anything , really, I wanted to tell you. I haven’t dated in many years, but I care about this person enough to want to really give it a shot. You deserve to know before anything gets serious.”

Jo squeezes his hand. “That’s what you’re so worked up about, Dad? That you want to date someone?”

“I just don’t want to risk damaging any part of our life by letting someone new in.” He says softly, raising her hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it. “I love you too much. You’re too important to me.”

“Don’t you dare stop yourself from finding true love for my sake.” Jo scolds, and Louis suddenly spirals back a decade, playing princesses in their tiny flat and promising his daughter that her true love awaits. For all the effort he poured into making sure Jo knew she was and will forever be loved, he may have neglected his own happy ending. “I’m a big girl, Dad. I can handle the idea of my dad having a love life.”

Louis laughs at that. “Oh, so that’s the difficult part? Knowing that I want to kiss someone, cuddle someone…”

“Ew, Dad, don’t talk about it too much! You just broke the news; I need to process!”

“That’s fair, darling. Do you have any questions? Anything you want to talk through?”

Jo hums, considering. “Is it Harry? Who you want to date?”

“Jesus.” Louis chokes on a harsh pull of air, eyes wide as he laughs in spite of his shock. “Can’t get anything past you, can I?”

Jo squeals excitedly, pushing herself farther up against her headboard as she turns toward him. “I knew it! I’ve never seen you blush before Harry. Now your face is red half of the time you two are in the same room!”

Fuck his traitorous face and even more traitorious heart. His brain decides that now is a good time to embarrass him even further, a blush lighting up his cheeks at the mere mention of Harry’s name. Jo positively cackles, noticing as quickly as he feels it himself. “Oh god , Dad! You’re in love with him!”

“Ah, hey, that’s a bit fast.” Louis chides through a fond smile. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“I don’t blame you, though. He’s really pretty.” Jo gushes, giggling. “Have you seen his muscles? I’m pretty sure he has a six pack.”

“ Josette !” Louis sputters, shaking his head. “What – you know what, I don’t even want to know how or why you’re looking at Harry’s muscles.”

Jo snorts. “He has pictures of himself and Silas at the beach in his living room, Dad. I’m not a creeper. I just notice these things.”

Louis makes a mental note to look for those particular pictures the next time he’s over. “Alright, alright. Hey, just… let’s keep this between us for now, okay? Harry knows I’m talking to you about everything, but he has to be the one to tell Silas. Got it?”

Jo nods. “Got it. Si’s going to go crazy, oh my god!”

Honestly, Louis can’t ever imagine sweet, soft-spoken Silas ever going crazy , but he is a kid. And he’s Harry’s kid. It has to happen every now and again. Nonetheless, he can’t help but fish for information. “Go crazy in a good way?”

“Hm, yeah, mostly.” Jo concludes. “He’s protective of Harry, I think. Makes me think he could present as an alpha when he’s my age. But he does really like you. So I think he’ll be happy that the person his mum is dating is you, regardless of how he feels about his mum dating in the first place.”

“That makes sense.” Louis agrees, warmed by the thought of Silas keeping a well-meaning eye out for his mum. Little alphas and their protective complexes, honestly. He’s been there. “We’re taking things very slow so everyone has a chance to get used to the idea.”

Jo’s quiet for a moment, picking at a loose thread on her duvet. “This is silly, Dad, but – you’ll still love me the most, right? Even if you do fall in love with Harry?”

“Oh, darling.” Louis scoots fully into her bed now, tucking his daughter under his arm as he kisses the top of her head. She’s so grown up, his little girl, and yet she still needs him just as much but in very different ways. Hell, he needs her, too. Maybe even more than she needs him. “Josette. The love I have for you is so unique and so strong that it’s completely untouchable to anyone else in the world. Even if I do fall in love with Harry, your place in my life will always be my priority. When you were born, I promised to always put you first. That won’t change.”

Jo nods, sniffling a little. “I know. I just love you a lot, Dad. I don’t want you to forget about me.”

“You’ll never have to worry about that.” Louis insists. “Never.”

Another sniff, then: “But Harry’s muscles are distracting.”

Louis scoffs, shaking her gently by her shoulders. “Josette, seriously!” She giggles wildly, burying her face in his chest. “C’mon, gossip with me about boys your own age. Not boys who I’m dating!”

Jo shrugs a shoulder. “Not super interested in boys my own age, if I’m honest.”

Louis blinks, processing her nonchalant admission for a split second. “Fuck, Jo. We’ve finally found it.”

“Found what?” 

“The one way we’re not the same person, and it’s a sneak attack! Of course we’re both gay, but our preferences are opposite. It was bound to destroy our perfect record.” Louis smiles down at her, squeezing her shoulder. “If gay is the label you want to use. You don’t have to have any answers in that department.”

She shrugs again. “I’m cool with it.”

“Well, I am too.”

“No duh, Dad.” Jo giggles. “Just wasn’t worried about it, to be fair. Didn’t think you’d mind if I brought home a girl one day.”

“Nah, love, not a chance I’d mind. I only take pause at the thought of you dating altogether.”

“Jasmyn said that Heather has a crush on me.” Jo shares, feigning indifference. Louis reads right through her unbothered facade, watching how her ears light up a bright, telltale pink. “But that’s just a rumor anyway.”

“Do you have a crush on Heather?”

Shrugging one shoulder, Jo wrinkles her nose. “She’s a shit football player.”

Louis snorts. “By those standards, I shouldn’t date Harry. Seems a bit unnecessary to the actual purpose of a relationship, though.”

“I dunno. She fixes my braids after they get messy during practice. It’s nice.”

“Hm, that is very nice of her.” Louis says simply, patting her leg. “Will she be at footie camp, too?”

“Yeah.” Jo picks at the heavily-chipped yellow nail polish on her thumb. “Most of the team will be there.”

Louis chooses not to push her on the subject of Heather. She’s already been through enough tonight.  “Are you sure you’re ready to spend a week away from home? I know you’re excited, but you don’t have to go, love.”

Jo rolls her eyes. “I want to go, Dad. Besides, Si will be with me too! It’s a cool way to spend spring break.”

“Alright, alright. I guess it is pretty cool.” Louis chuckles. “I’ll miss you, though.”

“I’ll miss you too, Dad. But hey, look on the bright side.” Jo grins. “You should take Harry on a date when we’re gone.”

Louis nods, feigning nonchalance about the fact that he and Harry are going to be child-free for an entire week. Jo definitely doesn’t need to know that they certainly have unspoken plans that involve a lot more time spent in the home than out of it. “I will, darling. That’s a great idea.”

“I can’t believe it’s next week.” Jo sighs, relaxing back against her pillows. “I feel old, Dad. The longest I’ve been away from you is for a long weekend with Nan.”

“It’s a big step.” Louis agrees, swallowing down his emotion. He can be strong for her. “And I’m proud of you, Jo. You’re growing up so fast, but you’re growing up so beautifully. I’m so lucky to be your Dad.”

“Dad, don’t make me cry.” Jo protests, sitting back up to wrap her arms around him. “I still have a few more days at home before camp. You can only cry when I’m gone.”

“Okay, okay.” He laughs, squeezing her close. “No crying until you’re gone, I promise.”

******

In what is either the best move or the worst move, the Styleses and Tomlinsons carpool together to football camp, piling into Harry’s small SUV. For the duration of the drive to camp, the positives far outrank the negatives. Silas feels more secure in the upcoming week away with Jo by his side, and they spend most of the drive singing loudly along to the radio. Fleetwood Mac unites all.

While being together on the drive to camp also helps calm Harry and Louis’ nerves about their children going away for a week, the difficulty of carpooling arises the instant the kids are out of the car.

They’re alone. For a whole week.

Harry’s pastel painted nails curl around the steering wheel, gripping it much harder than necessary as they turn out onto the road. “Lou, stop scenting the car, please .”

“I – oh god , I didn’t even know I was doing that.” Louis admits, face heating in a raging blush at his alpha’s subconscious actions. “Was just thinking about you, shit.”

“We should talk about this before we get home.” Harry says evenly, only a slight quiver to his voice. Louis would be lying if he said Harry’s poorly-hidden excitement didn’t make his alpha desperate to touch him. “I’m personally comfortable with any physical intimacy –”

“Yes.” Louis agrees, forcing his mouth shut after his interruption. “Fuck, sorry. My alpha is going mental, babe. I’m not trying to be a knothead.”

“It’s hot that you’re enthusiastic.” Harry retorts, shifting around in his seat. Louis just barely refrains from sniffing the air in a crude attempt to smell Harry’s slick. “And it’s cute to see you all eager, so I don’t mind. I just want to make sure we’re all good before we get home, because I feel like I’m going to fucking present in the foyer.”

A deep groan rattles from Louis’ chest. “Baby, you can’t just say shit like that! If we were ten years younger, I’d tell you to pull over.”

“You’d take me on the side of the road for our first time?” Harry laughs incredulously.

“You’re the one talking about presenting in the fucking foyer!”

“Touche. And for the record, I’d do both. Just figured I’d get us home since we’re in broad daylight.”

“Jesus. You’ll ride me when we’re home, yeah?”

“Is that image stuck in your mind?”

“What do you think, Harry?”

“I think… this is the romance I’ve always dreamed of.”

Louis knows he’s not joking, despite the lilt to his voice. They’ve talked about their ideal manifestations of intimacy, and Harry noted that he wants romance, yes, but he also wants the safety of being a bit dirty. Intimacy is trust, and sometimes trust isn’t a gentle lovemaking session surrounded by candles and rose petals. Sometimes trust is a filthy romp on the couch because you can’t make it to the bed.

Sure enough, there’s no finesse to how Harry swings the car into his driveway, throwing the gearshift into park and promptly bolting out the door. Louis follows, ever-enamoured and more than a little hard in his jeans. It takes all of his willpower not to press Harry up against the front door from behind, their dignity be damned.

He doesn’t have to wait long, and instead fulfills his desires by pushing Harry back against the closed front door the minute they’re inside. Harry yields easily to his body, letting Louis cage him in against the painted wood. The press of Harry’s thumbs against the underside of his jaw as he cups his face ignites fireworks underneath his skin, sparking heat against his scent glands as they rock together.

A week ago, when they first cuddled in Harry’s nest, Louis could feel their scents intertwining. The palpable musk of their pheromones was strong enough to bypass his illness, though their actual scents were still diminished. Today, Harry’s body sings with the brightness of green tea, softened by a sweet jasmine undertone that mixes deliciously with his own smoky cherry scent. 

“O-oh, shit. How am I so fucking wet already?” Harry gasps, laughing in disbelief as he rocks against Louis. On instinct, Louis slips his thigh in between Harry’s legs, encouraging him to grind against him. “Fuck, Lou! I’m gonna come in my pants just from a little dry humping.”

Pride swells in Louis’ chest, and his alpha instantly commits itself to making that notion a reality. Dropping his mouth to Harry’s neck, he sucks a harsh bite atop his scent gland, his mouth bursting with saliva at the taste of Harry’s skin beneath his tongue. “Fuckin’ beautiful, baby. You taste unbelievable.”

“I need more.” Harry pants, hips canting furiously into Louis’. Long fingers wrap tightly around Louis’ wrist, dragging his hand lower. “Please, alpha, I need it. Please .”

A moan slips from Louis’ lips as Harry pushes his hand underneath the back of his pants, guiding his fingers to dip into his slick hole. “Fucking Christ, omega. You need it?”

“I am going to come, and I want it to be on your fingers.” Harry whimpers. “And then on your cock. I’m so close, Louis, it’s been so long.”

“I’ve got you, darling.” He husks, circling his rim with the pad of his finger. “You’re soaking wet, shit. This all for me?”

Harry nods frantically, eyes pinched shut in desperation. “All for you, alpha. Want to come for you, too. Show you how good I can be. Please .”

Louis’ eyes practically roll into the back of his head at the searing pressure of sliding two fingers into Harry’s dripping hole. His knot throbs in his pants, desperate for release, but all he can do is push his hips against Harry’s. He fucks his fingers in and out once, twice, fueled by the desperation in Harry’s cries. Before he can come, however, Louis uses his other hand to fool with the front of Harry’s pants, pulling down the zipper and freeing the button.

“Louis, please, fuck me.” Harry chants, one hand scrabbling down Louis’ back as the other joins him between their bodies, fumbling to get his cock out of his briefs. When he does, he doesn’t pay it any attention, instead drawing Louis in for a deep kiss as he ruts against his hip.

“Gonna come.” He gasps a few moments later, forcing their mouths apart. “Gonna come, Lou. Alpha, please –”

“I’ve got you, baby. You’re perfect for me, love. Fuckin’ gorgeous.” Louis murmurs, nudging against his prostate with every thrust of his fingers. Harry’s mouth falls open in a silent moan, head thunking against the back of the door as his back arches. Louis groans at the delicious, rhythmic clenching of his hole around his fingers, Harry’s cock shooting pearly ropes of come across his clothes.

“Omega, you’re so lovely.” Louis murmurs, holding him upright as his body sags against his. “Did so well for me, baby. You’re perfect. Did that feel good?”

“Shit, I’m like…” Harry whines, catching his breath. “I’m on another planet. My body is so alive .”

Ignoring the needy pulse of his eager knot, Louis presses kiss after kiss to his cheeks, his jaw, and his lips. “God, I’m fucking obsessed with you. You’re a walking wet dream.”

“ Louis .” Harry blushes under the flattery. “I came on your fingers against the front door, for fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah.” Louis deadpans. “And it was fucking hot.”

Harry beams, dropping his head to Louis’ shoulder. “I’m gonna be ready to go again in a minute. I just need to catch my breath.”

Turning his head, Louis kisses his temple. “Take all the time you need, H.”

“”M still half hard.” Harry mumbles weakly, and Louis follows his gaze down to his reddened cock, hanging out of his clothes haphazardly. The sight makes his mouth water, craving a taste of the omega he’s yearned for for so long.

Unable to stop himself, he drops to his knees and sucks the head of Harry’s cock into his mouth.

“ Alpha !” Harry keens, a hand flying into Louis’ hair to steady himself. “Oh, fuck!”

Sharp bitterness swirls into sweetness against his tongue as he pushes his tongue against the underside of Harry’s cock, swallowing around him as he bobs his head a few times. Really, he only meant to tease him, but his alpha loves being on its knees for his omega too much. He relishes in the primal urge to keep his mouth on him until he’s sure Harry’s close again, pulling off to find his chest heaving and his pretty face all blotchy.

“To the bed, angel?” He asks, voice hoarse. The gravely edge to his words sends a hot spike of arousal straight to his own cock, and fuck, he’s probably closer to the edge than he realizes. He should’ve known he wouldn’t last long for their first time. Harry is too ethereal and he is much too in love.

Which. It’s way too early to be thinking that , so he’ll keep that to himself for the time being.

Harry shakes his head, pushing off of the door and stumbling out of his trousers, barely avoiding Louis. “To the couch, Louis. I can’t make it up the stairs.”

“Jesus.” Louis curses, because who is he to deny his omega? Scrambling to his feet, he flings his shirt over his head on his way to the living room, casting it somewhere in the house. Harry’s eyes are hungry as they rake over his chest, pouting suddenly.

“I kinda wanted to undress you, Lou. But I can’t be bothered to care when you’re that sexy.”

Louis meets him for a sloppy kiss in the middle of the room. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities to undress me, I promise. Can I help you out of your kit?”

“Hypocritical.” Harry replies, but he’s grinning as he lifts his arms for Louis. He toes out of his socks as soon as his shirt is off, leaving him standing bare and pigeon-toed before Louis. He doesn’t let him admire him without pushing desperately at the waistband of his pants, urging Louis to join him in nakedness.

It’s easy to oblige him, with his body flushing prettily all down his chest and his cock standing proudly beneath his obscene laurel tattoos. Distantly, Louis urges himself to remember this moment – he’ll never see anyone as beautiful and statuesque as his omega. But Harry kisses his neck, tilting his head to allow him access to his scent gland, and he remembers how certain they are. He’ll see his baby like this again and again, and what a gift the promise of longevity is.

“I want to ride you.” Harry pushes him backwards until his knees hit the edge of the couch, sitting easily. “You put the idea in my head in the car, and I need to make it a reality.”

“Are you sure, love?” Louis asks, about to clarify that he certainly does not have to ride him for their first time together. Harry just rolls his eyes, reading Louis easily.

“There’s no playbook that we have to follow, Lou. If I want to ride you the first time I take your knot, then I want to ride you. As long as you’re alright with that.”

Louis opens his arms, spreading his legs as he invites Harry to join him in his lap. He doesn’t miss how his eyes linger on his cock, lips left in a gentle, awestruck part. “I’m a bit desperate for it, actually. C’mere, love.”

With Harry in his lap, it’s easy for their mouths to reconnect, drawn together in a filthy dance as Louis grips the base of his cock. Due to their foray in the foyer, Harry’s hole opens easily for three of Louis’ fingers, and the omega grinds down on his knuckles in smooth circles.

“Give me your knot.” Harry pleads, rocking backwards to try and catch his hole on the head of Louis’ dick. “Want to feel you inside of me so badly, Lou. Please, fuck me, alpha.”

“Fucking hell, baby, you’re tight.” Louis moans, guiding the head of his cock to push past the tight ring of muscle. “Omega, you’re so good. You’re opening up so well for me, shit.”

“So fucking thick .” Harry sighs into a luxurious moan, grinding his hips in a figure-eight when he’s fully seated. “Oh my god, I can feel your knot already, Lou. Fuck! ”

Although Harry begged to ride Louis, he can’t let his omega do all the work – especially when he’s still shaky from his first orgasm. Gripping Harry’s hips, Louis fucks up into him firmly, watching the shock pleasure contort itself into bliss on Harry’s face.

“You take me so well, baby.” Louis grits out, picking up speed as Harry plants his hands on Louis’ chest, matching his thrusts with fervent bounces. “Feels so fuckin’ good.”

“I’m not gonna last.” Harry gasps out, throwing his head back as he rides. Louis unabashedly casts his eyes over the long line of his body, fixated on the bounce of his tits and the flex of his thighs. “Louis, I’m gonna come again. Like, so fucking soon.”

He knows. Harry’s squeezing him like a vice, rising and falling more erratically as his pleasure mounts. He’s close too, the telltale fist of arousal clenching tight in the base of his stomach. Driving up into him, plants his feet and pushes Harry closer to the edge. “Come for me again, baby. Don’t hold back, love. Let me see it.”

“Need you to come in me.” Harry pleads, grinding in deep circles in between bounces, “Need your knot, alpha. Fucking fill me up, please.”

His orgasm slams into him all at once. His knot fattens against Harry’s rim, locking them together as he spills deep inside of him. At the swell of his knot, Harry moans high in the back of his throat, collapsing forward as he jackknifes and comes across both of their stomachs.

“Baby.” Louis murmurs a little nonsensically, stroking through his hair through the comedown. “Baby, love. Feels so good. So good for me. Beautiful omega.”

“Jesus.” Harry hisses, clenching experimentally and causing Louis to suck in a hiss of breath. “I want to stay on your knot forever.”

Louis groans. “Don’t say that, baby. It’ll never go down.”

“That’s the fucking point, Lou.”

“Hey.” Louis tilts his chin upwards, drawing him into a sweet kiss. “Fuckin’ incredible, you are.”

“God. Best sex of my life.” Harry says, biting his lip as he grins. “I’m tempted to keep grinding on your knot because I want to come again already.”

Louis glances down between his legs in utter shock, Harry laughing at his expression. “I’m not hard still, thank fuck. But I still feel all buzzy. I’m probably gonna need to do that a lot this week.”

He can only nod in agreement, his chest bursting with affection for the man atop him. “Me too, love. Me too.”

******

They try to spend time together that’s not in the bedroom. Or on the couch. Or in the shower. They even try to put clothes on after Harry panicked about the couch being “ the place where my family sits, Lou!” , declaring it off limits for any further adult activities . That restriction only lasts through one episode of Friends, when Louis promises that the blankets they put down over the cushions is enough of a barrier for now.

Miraculously, they do manage to order takeout and eat it in bed, only keeping their hands off of each other long enough to scarf down curry. They attempt to extend the reprieve into an innocent cuddle before they fall asleep, tucked into Harry’s nest with a rom com playing on the screen at the end of the bed.

It’s futile, of course.

“Lou.” Harry murmurs, the soft mention of his name vibrating through his chest. With Louis’ hand pressed to Harry’s sternum, holding him back against his body, he can feel every word he speaks. “This movie’s kinda shit.”

Louis snorts, pressing a kiss behind his ear just because he can. He doesn’t even have to tilt his head with how closely they’re intertwined. “Yeah, it is. Should’ve looked it up on Rotten Tomatoes or some shit.”

“You feel really good, though.” Harry hums, sighing out what sounds like a noise of contentment. Louis catches the tease underneath it all, though he doesn’t let on. 

“Love cuddling with you.” He responds diplomatically. “You’re so warm, baby.”

“I run hot. It’s a mum thing.” Harry explains, squirming as if he’s trying to get comfortable. Once again, Louis knows better. They haven’t been dating for very long, but memorizing Harry comes second nature to him. 

Louis chuckles. “Mm hm. Hey, love. What’re you doing?”

Harry rolls his hips backwards with intention. “Nothing.”

“Oh, really? Nothing?”

“Yeah.” He can hear the smile in Harry’s voice. “‘M not wet at all.”

“Jesus.” Louis curses under his breath, letting the hand resting on Harry’s chest drift down his torso, nudging between his legs. Harry opens for him instantly, just wide enough for him to slip his hand under his boxers. Sure enough, his fingers find slick wetness just beneath the hardening length of Harry’s cock, warm and inviting.

“Don’t want your fingers.” Harry mutters, reaching behind himself to grapple at Louis’ body. His hand lands in the cradle of Louis’ hips, trying to pull his boxers down. “Your cock, please. Just like this.”

“Your cock, please.” Louis parrots back in a faux-posh voice, as if he’s serving hors d'oeuvres at a fancy function. Dissolving into a fit of giggles, Harry shakes against him, burying his face in the arm tucked under his head. “Please, sir. Your cock.”

“Louis, stop.” He whines, still valiantly circling his hips backward. “I’ll beg for you. Don’t think I won’t take inspiration.”

“Inspiration?”

Pushing his own underwear down to mid-thigh, Harry sighs out a breathless whimper. “ Please, sir .”

Louis groans into the back of Harry’s neck and pushes into him, effectively transforming his teasing into a desperate moan.

They don’t fall asleep for another two hours.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER EIGHT: HARRY

“Oh, Jesus fuck. This is what I’m going to be waking up to this whole next week, huh?”

“Don’t complain. You can sleep in if you’d like. Yoga is what keeps me limber.” Harry muses, holding his warrior pose expertly. He didn’t even bother to move his yoga mat, instead doing his morning stretches sandwiched between Louis’ side of the bed and the large window offering a view of the backyard. “And you like me limber.”

“I like you any way.” Louis admits easily, too sleepy to think deeply about the casual domesticity that saturates his words. “Could be stiff as a board in bed and I’d still want to ravish you.”

“ Ravish .” Harry snorts, transitioning into chair pose. He’ll hold this one for a few minutes. “You’re so alpha and yet you’re so… not.”

“What, would you rather me say that I’d like to fuck your brains out any way you’d like? That I’m dumb for just a little taste of your slick?”

Harry gasps, the searing heat of Louis’ crass words shaking his normally perfect pose. “Shit, Lou.”

“I’m just saying, the knothead alpha lives within. If you want something a little more primal, you can have something a little more primal.” Louis frowns at his own remark. “To be clear, this is supposed to be a sexy offer. Like a bedroom primal. I have zero fucking desire to be an actual knothead on the daily.”

“You could never.” Harry retorts honestly. “But… I’m open to more primal bedroom action. Every now and again.”

“Good to know, love. Not to continue the theme, but you smell fucking delicious.”

Harry flushes at that, lifting his arms to the sky. Louis’ eyes trace over the long lines of his body, nostrils flaring at the continued exposure of his scent glands. “I can smell you more than I can smell myself, even though it’s my room. Safe to say I think the same thing.”

Louis scoffs, cheeks dusting pink at the flattery. He’s a vision against Harry’s soft white sheets, the blue in his eyes brought out by the delicate blue flowers woven in a ditzy design across the bedding. Tanned skin stands stark against the light linens, shirtless and gloriously exposed as Louis tucks his arms behind his head. Harry’s never thought of armpit hair as the pinnacle of attraction, but god, Louis’ could change his mind. He’ll lick and bite his way there after paying extra attention to his far away tattoo.

Harry hears Louis speak, but the words mean nothing to him when he’s busy counting the freckles visible above the line of his waist, torso cut off by the fluffy duvet. Absentmindedly, he hums in acknowledgement.

“Right, yeah, I do think my scent smells like unwashed socks –”

“Huh?” Harry furrows his brow, incensed at the thought of Louis thinking he smells bad. “What? No – what the fuck?”

“You’re so distracted that you agreed.” Louis grins toothily, smug and preening. The unabashed confidence is a good look on him. “You think I smell like stinky socks.”

Standing from his pose, Harry shakes his head emphatically. “Absolutely not. Like… that might be the worst thing you’ve ever said. It’s such a fucking lie.”

Louis cocks his head, raising his chin in both a challenge and an invitation. “What do I smell like, then?”

“Think I need to get closer to the source to really know.” Harry wagers, biting his lip as giddiness swells within him. He feels young again, juvenile in the way he feels the joy of newness wash over him. It’s heady to have someone’s want trained on you and to want them equally in return. It’s a luxury and a gift that he hasn’t been privy to in a very long time.

“Mm, okay. I think this bed has enough room for one more.” Louis lowers his arms, much to Harry’s dismay, and pats the mattress beside him. “Give me a cuddle, love.”

“Want more than a cuddle.” Harry says in a rush, already climbing into Louis’ lap. He could have walked around to the empty side of the bed, but he wants to end up in Louis’ lap anyway. He’ll just save himself the trouble and sit himself exactly where he wants to be.

Louis chuckles, his hands firm on Harry’s hips as he steadies himself. “Yeah, I can tell.”

“You can tell?” Harry asks, genuinely curious. Louis nods.

“Your scent changes when you’re turned on, babe. Smells… deeper, almost. More full and dark and delicious.”

“Oh.” Harry ducks his head, sure he’s blushing up to his ears now. “Yeah, um. That makes sense.”

“And you’re wearing next to nothing.” Louis points out, as if they aren’t both aware that Harry’s only in his little black briefs and Louis sports nothing under the covers. His hands drop from Harry’s hips, skating boldly around to cup his ass, fingertips sliding between his cheeks. There’s no mistaking the wetness that saturates the fabric, and Harry gasps at the firm press of Louis’ touch against the evidence of his desire. “Could see you working yourself up, darling. Your yoga poses don’t hide anything. Neither does your staring.”

“You’re right; they don’t.” Harry laughs breathlessly, running his hands shamelessly from Louis’ shoulders to his abdomen. “You’re a tease. An awful tease.”

“Baby, I’ve barely teased you.” Louis retorts, his smirk smug. “Like, I just woke up five fucking minutes ago.”

“God, I know. Your morning voice makes me wet.”

Louis sputters out a laugh, almost awestruck at Harry’s boldness. “Jesus, H. That gorgeous, filthy mouth of yours is gonna kill me.”

“I’m just –” Harry squirms in Louis’ hold, rutting himself against his lap. The airy linen duvet does little to hide Louis’ growing arousal, pressing hot against Harry’s core. The pressure is already delectable, enticing enough to propel his arousal past the point of remaining still. “-- o - oh . I’m just honest. It seems to get me what I want.”

If Harry didn’t know any better, he’d think that the deep rumble that rattles from Louis’ chest is merely a groan of pleasure, caught in the throes of the rising tension between them. Ever since last night, his omega is unabashedly attuned to Louis’ alpha, desperate to tussle and mate with him again. They’ve only slept together once and Harry knows he’s fucking ruined for anybody else – at least, if his omega has a say in things. Maybe it’s a result of the years’ worth of touch deprivation, but their connection is tangible and solid. Really, if he’s gone a decade without getting attached to anyone else, it must mean that Louis is just that special.

Besides, Harry already knows that he is. It’s just a bonus that he doesn’t have to convince his omega as well.

Harry’s omega immediately turns soft and pliant at Louis’ growl, a low sound that holds no threat and instead welcomes closeness. He interprets it as an invitation to grind down more pointedly, rocking back and forth over the bulge underneath the covers. Louis will take care of him, and he wants to coax his alpha out one way or another.

“Y’alright with a bit of beard burn?” Louis asks, voice thick with desire. His lashes flutter infinitesimally as Harry scratches down his sides, whining softly at the thought.

“Would let you rub me raw if you wanted.”

Louis swallows a moan. “No, love, that’s not what I asked. It’s not about what I want. Try again.”

“Louis.” Harry whines, suddenly overcome. “I – yes, I like beard burn. Love it, even.”

“Good boy. You’re gonna sit on my face, pretty baby.” Reverence softens the hard edge of command. “Come up here.” 

Carefully, Louis lowers himself even more horizontally, resting back on the pillows while making sure that the area around his head is clear of obstacles. Harry lingers in his lap, chewing on his bottom lip as he watches Louis get situated. 

Louis pauses, feeling Harry’s apprehension fill the air between them. “Are you alright, love? We don’t have to if you don’t want to. No pressure at all.“

“God, I want to.” Harry rushes out in one breath, giggling to himself. “I just – it’s silly, but I was trying to figure out the logistics of getting my pants off before I…” He swallows, flushing red down his chest. “... sit on your face.”

“You know –” Louis nods, following him in light laughter. “I also didn’t think through that. Shall we take a minute to reset?”

“‘S probably for the best.” Harry admits, climbing off the bed entirely. Although he’s now standing, Louis still has an unadulterated view of how he folds his long legs through the leg holes of his briefs, one after the other. He’s mesmerized, always endeared by Harry’s occasional bouts of clumsiness but also always rendered breathless at the ballerina-like grace he exudes in other moments. By the time he’s fully nude, Harry is well aware of Louis’ watchful eyes. “You’re staring.”

“I can’t fucking not.” Louis gushes, reaching between his legs to give his aching cock a courtesy squeeze through his boxers. Clearly, the motion isn’t as subtle as he thought, Harry’s eyes tracking his movement underneath the bedclothes. “You’re the most stunning person I’ve ever seen, baby.”

“I tried to… clean up a bit, if you know what I mean.” Harry says, glancing down at himself. “I haven’t taken an everything shower in ages , Lou.”

“My alpha really likes the sound of that.” Louis replies, desperately fighting to reroute said alpha back to the reality that is Harry standing naked before him and not the envious fantasies of Harry’s former lovers. 

Confusion mars Harry’s face. “It likes that I took an everything shower?”

“No, babe, no.” Louis hurries to assuage. “It likes that it’s been ages since you… well, yeah. I sound more like a knothead when I say it out loud.”

“That is how that works.” Harry chuckles amusedly. “You’re fine, Lou. I get the possessiveness, believe me. Did you not see how my omega nested furiously last night? That was entrapment. That was a hostage situation.”

“I was very willingly entrapped, H.”

“God, I know.” Harry groans softly at the memory. “I never wanted to leave. The nest or your knot.”

Louis pauses, eyeing Harry with an intensity that sends shockwaves of heat pulsing through Harry’s body. “And hey, I just want to say this.” He interrupts gently. “I want you to know that your effort is recognized, yeah? You look gorgeous, you feel gorgeous, all of the above. But I – I don’t need all of that – an everything shower – when you don’t want it. If we’re committing to something serious, then I’m all in. That automatically means that I’ll want you just as badly when you haven’t showered in four days.”

“Ugh, no. Last time I haven’t showered in four days was when Silas was a newborn, so. You’re lucky to never have to get that side of me.”

“I would’ve been so lucky.” Louis insists, holding his arms out to welcome Harry back to the bed. “You ready, darling? You still look like you need some attention.”

Harry whimpers excitedly, his hand brushing his dripping cock as it drops to his side. “I want – wait, you need to take your pants off, too.”

“Was going to focus on you, babe, but if that’s what you want.”

“I always want to see your cock.” Harry says seriously, cocking a hip as he nods towards the blankets. “Strip, alpha.”

Louis laughs breathlessly, pushing the blankets aside before he lifts his hip and rids himself of his boxers. Staring at the bob of Louis’ rigid cock as it slaps against his stomach, Harry takes a deep breath to steady himself. Oh, be still his beating heart. He wants Louis – all of Louis, from the gentle swell at the base of his cock that promises a thick knot to the dripping, red tip – way too much. It’s not good for his health.

“Right, you’ve done your staring now, love. Get up here so I can taste you.”

Or maybe it’s very good for his health.

“Don’t want to put too much weight on you.” Harry mumbles absentmindedly, slinging his leg over Louis’ chest as he climbs onto his bed with his knees planted on either side of Louis’ body. “Tell me if you need to let up?”

“Baby, I can take it.” Louis responds, eyes blown and desperate, sounding like a man starved. “I’ll tap your leg twice if I need you to get off, but –” He shakes his head, his eyes darting lower and landing between Harry’s legs. “ Fuck , Harry. I’d live and die between your thighs and it would be enough for me.”

“Louis.” Harry whimpers, trembling with anticipatory unsteadiness. “You have to, oh my god, I can’t –”

“You smell so fucking good, angel. Making my mouth water.”

“Then fucking eat me out already, god!” Harry laughs, spreading his legs wider to lower himself closer to Louis’ mouth. “I’m gonna come before you even get your mouth on me, please –”

“That’s pretty damn impressive, H.”

“ How are you still talking? My pussy is right there – fuck!”

Louis wasn’t lying when he claimed to want to live and die between Harry’s thighs. In one swift motion, he slings his arms overtop of Harry’s thighs, his hands digging into the meat of his ass as he pulls him down against his chin. Instantly, a moan rattles from Louis’ chest, the buzz of the noise vibrating through the connection of their bodies. He swirls his tongue deep into Harry’s cunt, pressing and sucking against him with rhythmic swipes of his mouth.

“Shit.” Harry curses, sliding his hand between his legs to cup his cock. He lifts his balls gently, not wanting to overwhelm himself with sensation too soon. “Fuck, Louis, you’re too good at this. Shit!”

Hearing a pleased hum from beneath him, Harry chances a careful rock of his hips, smearing his hole across the lower half of Louis’ face. He’s entirely undeterred, instead encouraging the motion by guiding Harry into deeper grinds with insistent squeezes of his ass. 

“Oh my god, oh my god –” Harry throws his head back, his skin rubbing just on the good side of raw against the stubble littering Louis’ chin. Throwing caution to the wind, he cants his hips in an uncontrolled circle, feeling the nudge of Louis’ nose against his clit as he rocks. “Alpha, fuck –”

His head lolls on his neck as he grinds, thighs shaking as his chin dips and he glances down at Louis’ face. Studying the brush of his lashes leading into sharp cheekbones, Harry gasps as bright blue suddenly stares back at him. He can feel the stretch of Louis’ lips almost as clearly as he can see the smile lines erupt at the corners of his eyes, and in a mirrored echo, Harry beams.

Louis turns his face, pressing a kiss to the inside of Harry’s thigh – the most he can move with Harry’s legs locked tightly around his head. In every moment, Louis is an unfathomable enigma. He’s passionate and a bit rough around the edges, diving headfirst (literally) into everything he does. The softness isn’t delayed, however; there’s no waiting to break open his heart to find the gold – he leads with it. His gentleness underscores his actions, and the force of his care sends warmth radiating in a direct path towards Harry.

“Lou, I’m –” Harry half-giggles, half-sobs. His chest feels tight, chasing a release that is more than physical. “Alpha, I’m gonna ride you. Please, I need more.”

“Baby.” Louis gasps as Harry pushes himself just out of reach of Louis’ mouth, scooting himself backwards. “Y’alright?”

“Just need your knot.” Harry whines, reaching behind himself to blindly feel for Louis’ cock.

“Hey, hey.” Louis grabs his wrist, the pressure igniting starbursts of pleasure. Distantly, Harry files the reaction away, already imagining being pressed into the mattress with his hands held above his head. “I need you to tell me that these are good tears.”

Only now does Harry recognize the cooling dampness on his cheeks as the remnants of drying tears, more spilling over as he blinks down at Louis. Gorgeous Louis, with his chest heaving and his face shiny with Harry’s slick, watching him with more concern than anyone has ever given to him. How could Harry not want everything from him?

“They’re very good.” Harry assures him, promises him with an emphatic smile. “I’m overwhelmed by how much I want you. That’s all.”

“That makes two of us, omega.” Louis murmurs, his thumb skating over his wrist. “We’ll need to come up with a safeword, I think. I imagine that sometimes you’ll want to be fucked through your tears.”

Harry shakes Louis’ hand off of his arm, nodding eagerly. “Yes, fuck . That time is now, please. I’m gonna ride you again.”

Fond laughter spills from Louis’ lips. “I’m yours for the taking, H.”

He doesn’t waste any time. With Louis’ grip moved from his wrist to his hip, he easily reaches behind himself to line Louis up. Sinking down onto him is even easier, the luxurious stretch a seamless glide with how wet and open he is from all of Louis’ attention.

“Mm, yes, need this every day.” Harry hums breathlessly, grinding his hips in little circles. 

“Is this a favorite position, love?” Louis’ smirk is too smug, so Harry lifts himself up and drops down hard . 

Louis’ answering gasp of pleasure is enough to satisfy Harry, not to mention the way that his cock presses exactly against his prostate. “You fucked me into the mattress from behind twice last night, Lou. We’re already position repeaters.”

“I’m not complaining.” Louis grits out, hips snapping upwards to meet Harry’s bounces. “Was just curious. Want to know everything that makes you feel the best.”

Despite his assurance, Harry vows to make Louis never question why he wants to ride him ever again. With hands balanced on Louis’ thighs, he fucks himself down onto his cock with renewed vigor, coaxing the knot from his alpha.

Spent and locked inside of his omega, Louis doesn’t question Harry’s position of choice again.

******

Louis strides into the kitchen as Harry pours his smoothie into a glass. Anticipating arms wrapping around him from behind, a smile instinctively graces Harry’s lips, a gentle welcome of Louis’ presence.

He can feel Louis approach him, but no touch ever comes. Instead, upon hearing unexpected sounds of movement, Harry turns to find Louis dropping to his knees right behind him.

“I have an hour between clients.” Louis says, earnest and wanting. “May I make you feel good?”

A shuddery gasp rips through Harry’s chest, stunning him momentarily silent. He barely manages to recover, arousal coursing through him faster than ever before. It takes milliseconds for slick to pool between his thighs and his cock to start to fill. “What were you thinking of doing? I mean, the answer is a fucking yes, but – Lou .”

“I can’t stop thinking about how good you taste.” Louis admits. “And I smell you fucking everywhere, H. It’s unbearable how much I want you. It’s like a craving, I don’t know. ‘S like… now that the kids are gone for a bit and I’ve got my head out of my arse, a fucking switch has flipped. I can’t stop wanting you. I feel a bit crazed.”

“So you want to… taste me?” Harry repeats, still a bit dumbstruck by his eager alpha. “You know what? Why the fuck am I drawing this out? Please, do whatever you’d like.”

Louis chuckles. “Well, I’m not on my knees just for the hell of it. Bit too old for it not to be for a reason.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Give it a rest. You’re not old and you know that. A bit of a silver fox at most.”

Grinning, Louis inches the rest of the way between Harry’s legs, spreading them gently as he pushes up his shirt. Harry chose to forgo anything but briefs underneath his t-shirt, both an intentional tease for his new boyfriend and an indulgent show of domesticity. He’s never strolled half-naked through his house with someone else before, and a giddy flare of excitement settles in his chest at the thought of kissing – and much more – in the kitchen with his partner. Dreams of casual intimacy bloom into reality right in front of his eyes. 

“So fucking gorgeous.” Louis breathes, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of Harry’s briefs and pulling them down his legs. “Get comfortable, love.”

Two steps back and Harry hits the counter, leaning against it as Louis tosses his underwear to the side. In seconds, Harry’s grip on the counter turns white-knuckled as Louis’ mouth laves around the head of his cock before sucking him down in one motion.

“Oh fuck , Louis.”

Harry comes in less than five minutes, repaying Louis by giving him a taste of his own medicine against the same countertop. 

******

A week is not long enough to relish in the bliss of a new relationship, but they both manage to make themselves and their homes presentable by the time they need to pick up Jo and Silas. They’re destined for a life of sneaking around, carefully meeting behind closed doors and kissing in empty rooms. Parenthood isn’t for the week, despite how badly their libidos want them to shirk their duties and send their kids off to their grandparents’ for another week alone.

Really, they do miss their kids. Nonetheless, Harry can’t shake the feeling that the moment they pile into the backseat of his car marks the end of a long chapter and the beginning of another important new era. Although both were and are a labor of love, the uncertainty of the future leaves him stewing in a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness.

Louis leans over the center console and brings him into a quick, gentle kiss as soon as they’re parked, waiting for the kids to gather their things and find their parents. His adoring smile as they part is enough for Harry to relax, knowing that he’s not going into the future alone.

A new era indeed.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER NINE: HARRY

Although Harry never got sick when Louis fell ill a few weeks ago, he’s hit with a nasty stomach bug a few weeks after the kids come back from football camp. At first, he assumes that it’s merely a twenty-four hour virus, so he spends a day wallowing in his illness and letting Louis and Silas dote on him.

The next morning, the nausea and vomiting hasn’t stopped, so he assumes it’s a forty-eight hour bug.

Five days later, Harry tries to hide his daily bout of vomiting from his son, knowing that his continued sickness worries him. He knows he’s unsuccessful in his mission when he has to run from the kitchen mid-yogurt bowl assembly.

“Mum, are you sick again?”

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, Harry turns towards Silas’ uncertain little voice. “I’m alright, Si. I’m okay.”

The bathroom door that he didn’t have enough time to shut slowly creaks open, Silas’ green eyes shining with worry. “You threw up.”

“I know, baby. I –” Harry sighs, still collapsed next to the toilet. Sweat beads on his forehead as the nausea swirls in his stomach, an ever-present threat. “I thought I’d feel better by now, but my tummy is still a bit of a mess.”

“Do you need water?” Silas asks, taking a visibly deep breath as his bottom lip wobbles. Harry’s heart breaks at how his sensitive son tries desperately to hold himself together through the concern that’s eating away at him. It’s not as if Harry hasn’t been sick before – he and Silas had a nasty mutual bout of the flu two years ago, and he’s had a cold here and there like any person. But he knows that it’s deeply unsettling for his young son to watch his Mum hug the toilet every morning over the course of a week, exhaustion evident in how he’s become noticeably more fatigued. 

“I’d love some, if you don’t mind.” Harry forces a smile, only accepting Silas’ offer to grant him a quick moment to compose himself. He’s pretty certain he won’t throw up again, despite the swimming in his stomach. Bracing himself against the sink, he pushes himself to his feet and washes his hands before grabbing his mouthwash out of the cabinet.

By the time Silas returns, Harry’s fresh-breathed and upright to accept the full glass of water. “Thank you, honey. That was very kind of you.”

“Are you going to go to the doctor, Mummy?” Silas asks, his voice shaking as he looks up at Harry. His fragile state is more than enough for tears to spring to Harry’s eyes – with the reality of Silas growing up, the term Mummy becomes less and less present in his son’s vocabulary. His use of the nickname sends pangs through Harry’s heart, and although he’s positive this illness isn’t serious, his son breaks his resolve altogether.

“I will, love, I will. C’mere, Si.” He holds his arms out, his son immediately pressing against his body. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll feel better soon.”

Silas sniffles. “You said that a week ago. I don’t like when you’re sick.”

“Me neither.” Harry agrees seriously. “But illnesses are unpredictable – I’m sure I’ll be back to normal in no time at all.”

Silas nods against him. “Can Louis come over?”

Harry knows Louis would rather be taking care of him twenty-four-seven than agreeing to Harry’s forced independence, so it’s an easy decision. “Yeah, love, I’ll ask him.”

“Good. You need a cuddle.”

Harry blanches. He and Louis haven’t officially confirmed their relationship to their kids yet, despite knowing that Louis talked with Jo about it before they got together. Maybe he’s doing this a bit backwards – it’s just that the longer he keeps the secret from Silas, the scarier it becomes to tell him. To make it real. To wonder if his son will adjust well to the fact that there’s another person in his mum’s life.

He might just be an inexperienced mum, but ten years old feels a lot younger than thirteen sometimes. He understands why Louis told Jo, both from Louis’ perspective of comfortability and in the perspective of the ever-changing relationship between a parent and their teenager. There’s just something about Silas that makes Harry even more protective, despite knowing wholeheartedly that he wants Louis and isn’t afraid to start something with him. In some ways, the hesitation is unexplainable. But it’s there and it’s crumbling quickly.

“I love your cuddles the most.” Harry responds diplomatically, following Silas out of the bathroom as he detaches himself.

“Honestly, Mum. You need more than just my cuddles.” Silas says, unbothered and totally matter-of-fact. “Maybe your touch-depri is making you sick.”

Harry freezes. “Silas, how do you know I have touch-depri? Wait. How do you know what touch-depri is?”

Silas turns to look at him, blinking back innocently. “I read about it in a book from the school library. Did you know that I help your touch-depri? I’m kind of like a superhero. Whose superpower is hugs!”

“You – yes, you do help me.” Harry nods, mind spinning. “And you’re definitely my hero. Do you still have that book checked out? I… I’d love to read it with you.”

“No, Mum. I read it months ago.” Silas beams. “I told Jo that we make a blanket fort every Friday night to cuddle in, and she asked if you had touch-depri like her dad. Louis and Jo have The Great Blanket Exchange every Sunday. It helps Louis with his touch-depri. So I went to the library to figure out what touch-depri is because I want to help you.”

“Oh, baby, you are so lovely.” Harry coos, dropping down into a squat to grab his son’s hands and look at him on his level. “That’s so thoughtful, Si. I’m proud of you for using your resources and going to the library, but know you can always come to me with questions.”

Silas nods seriously. “I know, Mum. I just wanted to surprise you and make you not feel so bad. The book said that some people are embarrassed about their touch-depri.”

“Well, that’s very, very sweet of you.” Harry plants a kiss to his curls before standing again. “It’s true that some people are embarrassed about their touch-depri, but I’m very lucky to have people around me who are very supportive. Especially you, my hugs superhero.”

Silas’ chest puffs with pride. “I am the best at them. But Mum, Louis’s your friend. He could help, too. The book said that being around family and friends makes you feel better.”

“Yes, Si, that’s right. But, um…” Harry swallows. He wanted to have a plan for this moment, to spend more time thinking about the right words and the gentlest tone. But here he is, running on fumes and throwing his parenting scripts to the wind in the face of his child’s curiosity. “What if Louis was a bit more than a friend to me? Would that be alright?”

Silas wrinkles his nose. “Ew, Mum, like… you want to kiss Louis?”

“Um, yeah.” Harry laughs slightly, the sound slipping past his restraint. “I guess you could put it that way.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about that .” Silas replies, as if the words taste bad in his mouth. “But I want Louis to be in love with you, so I guess it’s fine.”

For the second time today, his son stuns him speechless. “Si, you… what? You want Louis to be in love with me?’

“Yeah. You’re the best Mum ever.” He says plainly, as if it’s obvious. “It makes sense that someone would want to be in love with you. And Louis is so cool, Mum. If you don’t fall in love with him too, you might never find anyone who’s as cool as him ever again.”

Harry can’t help but laugh again, Silas’ frank admission propelling him forward to hug him again. “Thank you, sweetheart. You’re the best son ever. And you’re right, Louis is very cool.”

“So he can come over? I want to show him my football juggling. I got up to ten the other day!”

“You didn’t tell me you got up to ten !”

Silas giggles. “I did, and I’m using Louis’ technique! I really like him, Mum. I think he’s my friend, too.”

Harry sighs, smiling as he cards a hand through his son’s hair. It’s funny how all of his worrying about telling Silas ends in the most unexpected moment, only bringing about peace that settles in his bones with ease. “I do too, Si. But you know that you come first, right? If you’re upset with anything Louis says or does, you need to tell me. Alright?”

“Alright.” Silas agrees. “Just tell him not to steal my strawberries when he’s over for breakfast. I need them for my yogurt. I’ll be really mad if I have to eat it with bananas instead.”

“Right, love. Bananas are for peanut butter toast, not for yogurt bowls.” Harry parrots back the words he’s heard spill from his son’s mouth countless times. “I’ll make sure he knows.”

“And make sure he knows that I’ll always love you the most.” He adds. “He can’t love you more than me. That’s unfair. I was here first.”

Harry can’t help but laugh at that. “I love you, Si. I’ll make sure he knows that too.”

Silas pats Harry’s stomach definitively. “I lived in your tummy, Mum. That’s got to count for something.”

“Squatter’s rights, love. Sure does.”

Silas skips to the front door, hand on the latch. “May I run to Louis’ and ask him to come over? And bring Jo if she’d like to come?”

Harry follows him to the foyer, already nodding. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll watch you from here.”

Running like every excited ten-year-old does, Silas breaks out into a full sprint across their front lawns. Harry leans against the doorframe as he watches the Tomlinsons’ door open, Louis’ head poking out of the house to glance at theirs. 

Their eyes meet and they grin in tandem. Harry even waves, just a little waggle of his fingers, uncaring if he looks silly. He feels freer now that Silas is in the know, and the lightness is refreshing.

Playing the ever-attentive parent that he is, Louis soon turns back to Silas, who hasn’t stopped talking since Louis opened the door. Silas is a fantastic judge of character, only opening up to those he feels comfortable around. The telltale chatterbox of his son only cements Harry’s suspicions that Louis has already won over both members of his family.

Harry watches as Louis motions for Silas to come inside before emerging from the house, heading in his direction. Louis doesn’t stop walking as he approaches Harry, instead backing him against the side of the house for a long kiss.

Louis’ lips muffle a hum of surprise, squeaking past Harry’s smile as he instinctively grabs at Louis’ shirt. For a midday kiss in plain sight, it’s a bit filthy, Louis’ tongue swiping against Harry’s bottom lip until he opens for him. 

The awareness of being out in the open isn’t lost on them, however, and the embrace ends quickly. A smirk materializes across Louis’ slick lips, his eyebrows climbing his forehead. “So, how am I doing so far?”

“What?” Harry laughs, not following his question. “You mean, like, with the kiss?”

“I just received very important instructions.” Louis teases with an air of faux-seriosity. “I’m supposed to – quote – fall in love with you and then stay over because I need to see Si’s juggling.”

“Oh my god.” Harry grins, shaking his head. “Impeccable delivery, Si.”

“I know! I thought so too.” Louis chuckles. “It’s a pretty easy task, to be fair. ‘M already halfway there.”

Harry’s heart flip-flops giddily. “ Louis .”

“What? It’s true.” Louis pecks his mouth again. “I also told Si to go find Jo and tell her to come over so we could have a few moments alone. How are you feeling, darling?”

“You probably should’ve asked me that before you kissed me.” Harry points out. “I threw up again this morning, and it really freaked Silas out. It’s a long story, but that’s how I ended up telling him about us. He was worried and wanted to call you over for help.”

“Oh, love.” Louis sighs, rubbing up and down his arms. “I’m sorry. Do you still feel bad now?”

Harry shrugs. “It comes and it goes. I’m just really tired all the time, honestly. I told Si that I’d go to the doctor, so I should make an appointment today.”

Louis nods. “D’you want me to call and set it up for you? You can go get some more rest and I’ll take care of things.”

“Maybe.” Harry acquiesces, already dreaming of his bed. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all, love. Just give me a rundown of your symptoms so I know what to tell them, yeah?”

“It’s mostly just nausea.” Harry remarks, running through the past few days in his mind. “I generally throw up once or twice in the morning, then I have a pretty low appetite for most of the day. Other than that, heavy fatigue is the worst of it.”

Harry feels Louis stiffen next to him, suddenly frozen. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s been about a week, right? And Si hasn’t gotten sick?”

Harry hums his agreement. “Yeah, give or a take a day. Why? What’s wrong?”

He watches as Louis swallows, his eyes never leaving his. “Harry, love. Have you taken a pregnancy test? Just in case?”

“I – no. No. What?” Panic rushes through his body in a cool wave, sweat stinging his skin and making his hands clammy as he runs through the possibility. “That’s… that’s not possible. I have MOLF, Louis. That’s –”

“Baby, hey.” Louis, ever-so-calm, grabs his shaking hands, his thumb immediately rubbing over the backs of them. “It’s just a theory, H. I could be so fucking wrong. But… my mum’s a midwife, and we’ve both been through this before. It feels… a bit similar, doesn’t it?”

Tears spring to his eyes as he studies Louis’, searching for any sign of distress or distaste. He finds none, only a reassuring steadiness that keeps him grounded. “I did have morning sickness with Si. Fuck, Lou. What the fuck? How did we – shit .”

“Let’s get you a test before we start to spiral, alright?” Louis coaxes Harry into his arms, letting him melt against his body. “And even if it’s positive, we have nothing to worry about. I’m not going anywhere.”

Harry nods against him, sucking in deep pulls of ambery cherry. Louis tilts his head to allow him access to his neck, petting down his back as he ducks his nose so close to his scent gland that he can almost taste his espresso undertone. “Me neither.”

“We’re going out back to do a kick around!” Jo calls, sprinting into the Styleses’ back yard. Silas follows her happily, a football already between his feet.

“Let me go check to make sure they locked up.” Louis chuckles, planting a kiss to Harry’s head. “I’m sure they didn’t. Then I’ll run and grab a test, and we can do it whenever you’re ready. Alright?”

“I feel so weird about it.” Harry whispers, swallowing down thick emotion. “Like… what are we doing, really? We just started dating, and we have two kids, for Christ’s sake, but… fuck, Louis. My omega really likes the idea of having a baby with you.”

“Just your omega?” Louis teases gently, squeezing his hip. “It doesn’t have to be a good or a bad thing, love. It can be complicated. But if it helps you feel a little less anxious right now, we can be excited about the idea. Even if it’s only until you read the test result. Like… imagine we’re newlyweds who are taking our first test after trying for awhile. Anything like that.”

“I don’t want to pretend to be someone we’re not.” Harry says definitively, cracking a small smile. “I don’t need that to be excited. Though the idea of being newlyweds is really lush.”

“Alright, domesticity kink.” Louis chuckles, kissing Harry softly before he steps away. “I’m happy, I’m in love with you, and I’m ready for whatever comes next. I can promise you that.”

Harry wipes at his eyes. “ Lou . Me too. All of that.”

“I’ll be back in a mo’.” Louis winks before darting away, hurrying back to his house.

Taking a steadying breath, Harry walks back into the house, his feet carrying him upstairs and past his bedroom. Instead, he follows the hallway past Silas’ room, landing in the doorway of the nearly untouched guest room. Only his mum and his sister have stayed here, and only in short bursts. The room doubles as a bit of storage, the closed closet door concealing a few lingering boxes of stuff they failed to unpack after moving in.

Suddenly, the cream walls give way to pale yellows or sage greens, calming colors that would match the light wood of the crib and a changing table. The few boxes of Si’s baby clothes that are stored in the attic would replace the miscellaneous in the closet, and he’d finally have a reason other than sentimentality to hoard newborn-sized onesies. Maybe he could even find a plush chair to put in the corner of the room, a comfortable place for late-night nursing or midday cuddles.

“I can do this.” He murmurs, his hand instinctively rubbing over his stomach. The bright light of midday in the summer spills into the room, and he can’t help but cross to the window to open it. Jo and Silas’ laughter and playful shouting filter into the room, bringing about a joyous sense of peace.

All is well, and he is happy.

******

Louis arrives home less than fifteen minutes later, appearing in the guest room with flowers in one hand and a box of pregnancy tests in the other. 

“Hey, love. What’re you doing in here?” Louis joins him on the edge of the bed, following his gaze out the window. “I grabbed ice cream for the kids and stuck it in the freezer, but you weren’t downstairs. I was hoping you’d be resting in bed.”

Harry sighs, leaning into his touch as he wraps his arm around Harry’s waist. “I got distracted, honestly. I think… this would be baby’s nursery.”

Louis hums against his temple, his lips pressing against his skin. “I think that would be perfect, H.”

“You know I had Silas when I did because I was afraid that I’d never be able to have kids otherwise.” Harry remarks softly, feeling Louis nod against him. “If I’m pregnant, Lou, I can’t imagine a world where I don’t keep the baby. I love being a mum, and all things considered, I want every child I am able and ready to have.”

“That makes complete sense, darling. As long as you’re healthy and ready, I am too.”

“Really?” Harry blinks back at him, pulling away from his embrace. “That’s it? You’re on board?”

Louis laughs, confused. “Uh, yeah? Like I said earlier, I’m in love with you. Not to mention that if you are pregnant, it’s also my responsibility.”

“Well. I mean, I knew you’d say that.” Harry giggles, leaning back into Louis’ side. “But I wanted to check again just to make sure.”

“Christ, babe, you scared me there.” Louis shakes his head. “Was worried you thought I was someone I’m not.”

“Could never think that of you.” Harry retorts. “You bought me flowers, Lou.”

Louis glances at the flowers held in the hand not wrapped around Harry. “I did, yeah. For you, no matter what happens.”

“I love you.” Harry says in a rush, warmth surging through his chest. They’ve long since admitted to being in love with each other, but they’ve never said it so directly. It’s impossible to hold back any longer, the weight of his love desperately needing to be offloaded into Louis’ capable arms.

Louis just smiles, pulling him in closer. This time, he even dips his head and connects their lips in a short, chaste kiss. “I love you too, H. So fucking much.”

“I think I’m going to take the test now.” Harry murmurs, the moment so soft that it lingers even as he takes the box from Louis’ hand. “Would you stay here with me?”

“I’d never leave, babe.”

Harry flutters his lashes, desperately trying to keep laughter from escaping. “Would you hold my dick while I piss?”

“What the fuck, Harold!” Louis laughs, gently pushing Harry away as honking laughter spills from his lips. “Jesus, I fucking would, too! I tell you that I love you and you use it to your evil advantage.”

Harry preens, standing from the bed. “I kind of like this power.”

“Ah, there you go, letting it get to your head! This is dangerous for me, innit?”

“Mayyyybeeee. But I could also use it for good.” Harry nods towards the door, silently asking Louis to follow him back to the bedroom. “I’ll really need you during my second trimester. Fuck, it’ll be so much better this time around with a real knot instead of a toy.”

“You’re a menace.” Louis bites back, no heat behind his words. “Fucking love you.”

For all of their teasing banter, the joking dies down as soon as Harry unwraps the test at the sink in his en suite. “I just need to do it.”

“I’m right here with you.” Louis promises. “You’re so strong, babe.”

With Louis’ encouragement, Harry manages to successfully take the test, turning it upside down on his counter while they wait. Louis offers him a cuddle, and Harry quickly decides what he actually needs is a frenzied makeout session. He hasn’t really had a chance to process the fact that they shared their official “I love yous” just minutes prior, and they might as well take advantage of the kids playing outside.

As it turns out, kissing furiously does help pass the time, and when the five minute timer set on Harry’s phone dings, it’s difficult to break apart. Louis is the more insistent of the two, attempting to dodge Harry’s mouth as he desperately chases his lips.

“Harry.” Louis huffs as Harry kisses his cheek, his jaw, and then the side of his mouth. “Harry, darling. We should look at the test before the kids come inside.”

“You should fuck me before the kids come inside.” Harry purrs, but he disentangles himself from Louis’ body nonetheless. “I’m all worked up now.”

“You started it, love. If you’re still feeling up for it later, we can find some time.” Louis assures him, attention already on the white stick now in Harry’s hand. “You alright?”

“I am, yeah.” Harry exhales, and he really means it. “Right. Okay.”

Before he loses his courage, he flips the test over.

PREGNANT

“Oh, fucking shit.” Harry blurts, laughter and tears bursting from him in tandem. “Oh, fuck, what the hell? Louis, what ?”

“We did not use protection, babe.” Louis laughs, eyes wide in disbelief. “Like, not once.”

“Yeah, but I – I really did not think this was possible!” Harry argues, setting the test back on the sink. “Christ, I still need to make a doctor’s appointment, I guess. Holy shit.”

“I… I am so fucking happy right now, H.” Louis beams, cupping his cheeks to bring him in for a long kiss. “Baby, you’re such a good mum. I’m like… I’m fucking honored that you’re carrying my child. You’re perfect.”

“I can’t believe we’re having a baby together and you still make me blush.” Harry says, ducking his chin as he smiles. “Baby is so lucky to have you, too. I’m so lucky to have you.”

“What are we going to tell the kids, Christ.” Louis laughs, pressing his hand against his forehead in disbelief. “Jo is going to be over the moon about having a little sibling, but god, that’ll be a change.”

Harry swallows around the fear in his throat, nodding. “Si… Si will be okay. He’ll be excited, I think.”

“Hey.” Louis says gently, rubbing down his back. “We’re in this together, love. Si will have so much support.”

He nods, willing away the tears. “I’ve just worked so hard to build a gentle, safe life for him, and I don’t want anything to compromise that.”

“You’re still doing that, even with the new baby.” Louis soothes. “You’re teaching him to navigate change with healthy processing, love. He’ll be a perfect big brother.”

“He will be.” Harry smiles, sniffling slightly. The image of Silas cradling a swaddled bundle makes his mum heart ache with joy, and he sighs. “It will all be okay, Lou. It will.”

Louis cuddles Harry close again, nodding into his shoulder. “I promise, babe. It will be.”

“Think we should call my mum?” Harry says after a long moment. “God, she’s going to take the mick out of me, but I – I really want a night alone with you. I’m gonna need a minute to collect myself before I can function as a parent again.”

Louis’ face turns bright red at the prospect of telling Anne the news, and Harry doesn’t blame him. No matter how old you are, telling your mother about your risky decisions never gets any easier. It’s a testament to Louis’ character when he concedes easily, even offering to do most of the talking if Harry isn’t ready yet.

Thus, they wind up on a FaceTime call with his mum in his en suite bathroom.

The instant she sees both of them in the frame, she beats them to the punch with a gasp. “Oh, my angels! Louis, it’s so lovely to see you again!”

Harry feels a blush spill onto his face at the realization that not only has his mother never met Louis in person, she’s only met him briefly over facetime once before. “Hi, Mum.”

“Am I allowed to make assumptions?” She asks, entirely unsubtle. “Because I’m making assumptions.”

Harry’s eyes widen, panicking that somehow his mother already knows about his pregnancy. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes sparkle as she laughs. “If you’re not together, then you have every right to tell me off. But I’m hoping that you called me to tell me that you and Louis finally stopped dancing around each other!”

Oh, they stopped dancing around each other alright . “Um, yeah, Mum. We did.”

“Ah! I knew it! Congratulations, you two.” Anne beams before pulling her face into the picture of motherly sternness. “Louis, I am very pleased that you’re dating my son, but he is my baby. I expect you to treat him well, and if you do not, you will be hearing from me.”

Louis clears his throat, smiling kindly. “I completely understand, Anne. Harry is the loveliest person I’ve ever met, and I will sacrifice myself to your mercy if I do ever hurt him.”

“He won’t.” Harry interjects, unable to keep from beaming at his boyfriend. “He’s perfect, Mum. He’s the most supportive partner, and Si loves him. And his daughter.”

“Well.” She chuckles. “Si is the best judge of character.”

“He is.” Harry and Louis parrot in unison. When the fluttering in his chest subsides, Harry takes a deep breath and reaches for Louis’ hand between them. “Um, I am calling you for another reason, Mum. We were wondering if you could watch the kids for a last-minute date night. I know it’s a long drive, but you can stay overnight at mine – Louis and I will be at his. You could even stay for the weekend.”

“You’re lucky I don’t have anything on my schedule.” Anne teases, not unkindly. “I’d love to spend time with Si and meet your daughter, Louis.”

“Jo will be thrilled that she has another person to talk to.” Louis chuckles. “Thank you, Anne.”

“Yeah, thanks, Mum.” Harry repeats, nervousness ringing in his ears. “We really need some time together – I just – fuck, Mum. I’m pregnant.”

Louis barely covers his snort of amusement, clearly expecting Harry’s admission to go a little more smoothly. He recovers by threading his hand into Harry’s hair, gently pulling him in for a kiss on the cheek. Grateful for the grounding touch, Harry leans into him as his mum processes the information on the other end of the line.

“You’re pregnant ?” She asks again, voice dripping with disbelief despite a wide grin overtaking her features. “I’m assuming – Louis? You’re the baby’s father?”

“I am, yes.” Harry can practically feel the heat radiating off of Louis’ cheeks.

“Baby.” His mum’s voice suddenly grows thick, her eyes filling with tears. “We – we didn’t think this was in the cards for you, did we?”

“No, Mum.” Harry laughs wetly. “Hence why we were a little more reckless than we should’ve been, but – I’m so happy. We both are.”

“Well.” She breathes, shaking her head. “Of course you need a date night, boys. Did you just find out today?”

“About ten minutes ago, honestly.” Louis chimes in. “We’re… we’re really grateful for you, Anne. Everything just feels a bit too much right now, and we want to tell the kids when we’re more prepared.”

“That’s the right thing to do, I think.” His mum nods. “I’ll leave as soon as I pack my bag, how’s that? Oh, I can’t wait to hug you both.”

“Thank you, Mum.” Harry wipes at his eyes, so exhausted and so overwhelmed with support. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, darling. I’ll see you in less than four hours, alright? I’m on my way.”

As soon as they end the call, Harry tucks himself back into Louis’ embrace. “Thank you, Lou.” He murmurs, fighting back tears. “I can’t believe it, honestly.”

“I know, love. It’ll be good to have your mum here.” He says, petting through his hair. “Why don’t you try to take a nap until she gets here? I’ll take care of the kids and get something together for lunch.”

“Are you sure?” Harry sniffles, to which he receives another kiss on his forehead.

“Of course, darling. You and baby get some rest.”

You and baby.

His heart warms as he passes his hand over his stomach, nodding. “Yeah, okay. We will.”

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TEN: LOUIS

Surprisingly, it’s a lot easier to tell your parents that you’re having an unexpected baby than it is to tell your kids that you’re having an unexpected baby. Adults are bound by the rules of politeness – those close to you might tease you, but they’re ultimately going to morph their opinions into a reflection of how you feel about the situation. 

Kids, however, do not give a fuck about how you feel about the situation. They will share whatever pops into their mind the instant the information is delivered.

Louis expects no less from their kids, but they have to tell them eventually. During their night alone courtesy of Anne, in between naps and even a tender romp in the bedroom, they practiced a detailed script together. In all honesty, rehearsal consisted more of them  impersonating their kids’ possible responses than actually running through what they needed to say.

They set the date of the big reveal for the next weekend and promptly have an entirely average week leading up to it, which somehow makes the looming pressure of the moment feel more intense.

After lunch at Louis’ house on Saturday, he and Harry gently move everyone to the living room, telling them that they need to have a conversation together.

“We already know you’re dating, guys.” Jo snorts, dropping down onto the couch across from them. Silas follows her, tucking his legs under himself as he sits. “What’s next, you’re already engaged?”

“Um –” Harry’s voice comes out a bit high pitched, eyes panicked as he looks to Louis for help. All he can do is rest a hand gently on his knee and take over.

“Ooh, oh my god, are we moving in with Harry and Silas?” Jo suggests again. “I call the downstairs bedroom with the bay window!”

“Josette.” Louis chides gently, shooting her a look that immediately has her closing her mouth. “I know you already know that we’re dating, but… we want to really start making an effort to blend our families.”

“I’m cool with Jo being my older sister.” Silas offers her a high-five, which she returns enthusiastically. “I’ll just have to add two more people to my family paintings!”

“Okay, seriously. This has to mean that you’re getting married.” Jo insists, gesturing towards Harry. “I can’t believe Dad asked you without consulting me on the ring, god! Unless it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, because you are moving a little fast.”

“No, um, we’re not getting married.” Harry smiles weakly at the two of them. “You’re both going to have a baby sibling. I’m pregnant.”

Jo’s jaw drops open, face contorting into a look of unabashed shock and horror. Meanwhile, Silas wrinkles his nose, face scrunching in a perfect imitation of Harry as he processes the information. “Louis… you’re the baby’s dad?”

Louis swallows, willing the blush on his cheeks to dissipate. He is an adult , for Christ’s sake. “Yeah, mate. We’re having a baby together.”

“No fucking way.” Jo deadpans, her horror morphing into glee as she laughs once, pinched and disbelieving. “After all of the sex talks you gave me –”

“Hey.” Louis interjects sharply, ignoring the flare of mortification in his chest. “Careful with your words, Jo. Remember who’s in the room.”

“Oh, I know how babies are made.” Silas shrugs, initially unfazed. A split second later, connections click in his brain, utter disgust pouring out of every word. “Ew! Oh my god! Mum !”

Harry blushes furiously at the accusatory tone. “In loving, consensual relationships, sex is healthy and normal. I’ve always told you that, Si.”

“I cannot believe it!” Jo laughs, clapping her hands together. “Oh, this is mental. Dad, do we both need to do a flashcard review of safe sex practices?”

Letting her joke slide right off of his back, Louis interlaces his fingers with Harry’s. “We know this is going to be a big change for all of us, but we wanted to tell you early. Harry and I love you both so, so much, and we’re very excited for the new baby.”

“A new baby.” Silas’ eyes widen, his voice awestruck. “I’m going to be a big brother?”

“Yeah, love.” Harry opens his arms, coaxing his son to come to him. Silas crosses the room and climbs into his lap easily, resting his hand on Harry’s stomach. “You’re going to be the best big brother, Si. You can teach the new baby all about football and painting, and you can read to them from your collection.”

“Jo will also teach them about football.” Silas points out. “She’s going to be a big sister, too.”

Before Louis can even ask Jo if she wants to join them on the other couch, she’s walking over to crouch in front of Harry. “May I?” She asks, and Harry beams, letting her touch his stomach next to Silas’ hand.

“I can’t wait until we can feel them kick.” She murmurs, smiling softly. “They have to have a strong one to be a part of this family.”

Family . Hearing his daughter utter the word aloud makes the moment feel ten times bigger than the room they’re in. Logistically, Louis knew that the pregnancy would naturally bring them closer together quicker than if they were just dating. But when the hand that Harry isn’t using to cradle Silas to his body falls into Jo’s hair, gently running his fingers through it while she talks to his non-existent baby bump, an unbearable amount of emotion wells up in his chest.

He catches Harry’s eyes over their kids’ heads, finding a tear slipping from the corner of the one nearest Louis. Reaching out, he brushes it away with his knuckle, mouthing “I know” and fighting back tears of his own.

“Still can’t believe you didn’t use protection.” Jo mutters all of a sudden, glancing up at him with an accusatory look. “‘S your alpha really so strong that you can forget these things?”

Harry snorts, failing to cover it in time for it to miss Jo’s notice. “Yeah, Jo, it is. Same with your omega.”

“Ah, shit.” She sighs. “I really am fucked with this whole presentation thing, aren’t I?”

Louis falls into a fit of loud laughter, followed by a series of uncontrollable giggles from Harry. The laughter is infectious, and it only takes seconds for the room to be filled with it.

******

Once Harry leaves the first trimester, his morning sickness dissipates and a lot of his energy returns. True to his word, the biggest change is his desperate need for Louis’ knot, though they’ve mostly managed to contain those sessions to their lunch breaks. Mostly .

Though he starts feeling better, he still spends a lot of time sleeping, and Louis is happy to take over much of the domestic duties for their two families. They’ve been splitting their time between the two houses almost evenly, and so far, the kids enjoy the “sleepovers” that they exchange every few nights. Both he and Harry know that bigger conversations about their living situation are imminent, but for right now, they’re making do with what they have.

Much like any other weekend, Louis finds himself watching TV in the living room, Harry napping with his head in his lap. With Jo away at a friend’s house and Silas reading upstairs, the house is quiet.

“Mum, would you please – oh.” Silas appears in the living room, holding a book and a throw blanket. His voice drops to a whisper, ever-observant once he notices Harry’s sleeping form. “Is Mum napping?”

Louis nods, keeping his voice low. Absentmindedly, he rubs over Harry’s shoulder. “Growing a baby is hard work, isn’t it? Are you alright, Si?”

“Yeah, just wanted Mum to scent this for me.” He lifts the blanket, shrugging. “But that’s okay. Mum needs his sleep.” He pauses, eyes flicking between Louis, Harry, and the couch. Could I cuddle, too? I’ll be quiet; I was just going to read.”

Louis studies the way Harry stretches across the couch, a pillow snug against his little bump of a stomach. There’s not much room, and Harry really hasn’t been sleeping well. It would be a shame to wake him, regardless of how selflessly Harry would agree to sacrificing his sleep to snuggle his son. “Si, mate, we really should let your Mum sleep. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you read in his bed if you want his scent.”

Silas blinks back at him, pointing to the small space between him and the edge of the couch. “But what if I sat right there? I wouldn’t be touching Mum at all.”

He’s right. He wouldn’t be touching Harry in the slightest, instead snuggled entirely up against Louis .

A lump forms in Louis’ throat before he can even speak. As a parent, kids will always surprise you, and Silas’ simple solution to wanting to cuddle steals the ground out from underneath Louis. They’ve only just begun to intentionally blend their families, starting in small doses as the pregnancy unfolds. But this open, easy admission – as if it was silly for Louis to imagine a world in which Silas wouldn’t include him in his cuddles – means more to him than he could ever describe.

“You’re right, yeah.” Louis swallows to keep his voice from breaking. “Come up here and give me a cuddle while you read.”

Silas beams, squeezing himself between the arm of the sofa and Louis’ body, extending his legs down the chaise parallel to Louis. He throws the blanket across his lap, careful of not bumping Harry’s head on the pillow in Louis’ lap, and opens his book without another word. Tentatively, Louis lays his other arm across Silas’ shoulder, letting it rest on the arm of the sofa and curl around his body.

Silas’ happy sigh as he relaxes into the couch makes Louis need to take a steadying breath. 

They sit quietly for a long while, Louis watching the TV on mute as Silas reads and Harry sleeps. Soon, keys jingle in the front door, Jo flurrying out of the foyer and into the living room.

“Hey, love. How was Elle’s house?” Louis asks softly, Silas looking over his book with a happy wave.”It was nice of her mum to drop you off.”

Jo opens her mouth to answer, but her eyes land on Harry, then on Silas, then back to Louis. Storminess suddenly clouds her features, lips slipping into a frown as she huffs and turns on her heel to head upstairs. Ah, shit,

Silas looks up at Louis worriedly. “Why is Jo angry?”

“She’ll be alright, lad.” Louis soothes. “I’ll go talk to her in a few.”

“I don’t want her to be angry. She was supposed to play MarioKart with me after dinner.”

Louis bites back a laugh. “I’ll talk to her, but if she doesn’t want to play, I’ll play with you.”

“We were going to ask you to play with us anyway.” Silas huffs. “And Mum. I want to beat him at Coconut Mall again.”

“You can count on me, mate. But I’ll put up a fight on Rainbow Road; you can’t beat me on that one.”

“Because you’re gay.” Silas explains, returning to his book with a definitive nod.

“Well – uh, sure.” Louis chuckles. “Si, mate, could you do me a favor? Can Mum lay in your lap while I talk to Jo?”

Positively beaming, Silas sets his book on the arm of the couch, clearing his lap as he raises his arms. “I’ll scoot over when you get up!”

“Thanks, love. Let’s do this slowly.” Louis brushes through Harry’s hair, watching his face scrunch up at the touch. “Baby, hey. Just gonna get up, alright?”

“Mmph.” Harry pushes an airy noise from between his lips, barely opening his eyes. “Lou?”

“S’alright, darling. Just need to lift you up a bit.”

“Don’t leave.” Harry slurs in a sad whine, pressing his face into Louis’ stomach. “No.”

“Louis.” Silas whispers, patting his arm. “Give him a kiss. He won’t be grumpy if you wake him up with a kiss.”

Louis raises his eyebrows, glancing back at Silas. “I thought kissing was gross.”

“Kissing is better than a grumpy Mum.” Silas warns. “And it’s not so bad, I guess. I’m happy you’re in love with Mum.”

“Oh, Si.” Louis responds, another sweet pang of fondness zipping through his chest. “I’m happy too. Let’s test your theory.”

“Harry, love.” Louis returns his attention to the man in his lap, leaning down to press his lips to his forehead. “I have to get up; I’m sorry. You don’t have to wake up. Just sit up for me a little, please.”

With a frown, eyes still mostly closed, Harry helps lift his upper body just enough for Louis to slip out from underneath him. Silas instantly scoots into Louis’ vacated spot on the couch, grabbing a pillow from behind his head to set in his lap. As soon as Louis helps lower Harry back down, his eyes crack open at the realization that he’s still laying on someone.

“Go back to sleep, Mum.” Silas coos, carding through his hair like he watched Louis do just minutes prior. “I’m gonna read while you nap.”

“My baby.” Harry mumbles affectionately, turning his head into Silas’ stomach as he dozes back off, seemingly satisfied with the switch.

“Good lad.” Louis whispers, sending Silas a wink and a thumbs up. “I’ll be right back.”

On the short walk to Jo’s room, Louis runs through his best parenting scripts and tries to calm his own breathing in an effort to approach her feelings with as much gentleness as possible. It’s no secret that blending families is a herculean task, often complex and difficult even when everyone is on exceedingly amicable terms. He imagines it’s even more taxing for someone her age, adding yet another change to her life while her entire identity and existence are being shaped by the biological and psychological factors of growth. Not to mention that their blended family timeline is rather accelerated, all elements considered. They’re not just spending more time together – they’re actively on a countdown until both kids have a new sibling and both parents have a new child. Life looks vastly different now than it did just a few months ago.

When he approaches her closed door, he knocks softly. “Hey, Jo. Can I come in?”

A sniffle, then: “Yeah, I guess.”

He finds his daughter sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed, closing a hardcover notebook. His therapist heart sings at the prospect of Jo journaling her feelings, but he refrains from pointing it out in case she would feel embarrassed. “Did you have a fun day with Elle?”

She shrugs, refusing to meet his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Right, love. Bed or chair?” He asks carefully, a longstanding code between the two of them. In moments where Jo is upset, Louis has always vowed to offer her space or comfort – whichever she wants in the moment. Jo’s typical emotional processing spot is her bed, so “bed or chair” turned into a simple question of if she wants physical touch while they talk or if she wants her dad to give her space. When Louis was growing up, he often wanted to be cuddled when he was upset, though it became harder to advocate for that need as he grew older. He refuses to let his daughter feel like she can’t ask for what she needs.

“Bed, please.” Jo’s voice is small, but she already slides over to make space for him to sit next to her. Instantly, Louis takes up residence on her mattress, pulling her into his side and pressing a kiss to her hair. 

“You’re not upset with me, right?” Jo asks quietly, sniffling again. “I don’t – I don’t want to be mean to Harry or Si, I promise.”

“I know, love. I’m not upset with you at all.” Louis soothes. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I just –” Jo wipes at her eyes, shoulders shaking in an attempt to keep from crying. “You’re my dad.”

Small sobs overtake her ability to speak, so Louis merely cuddles her close and rocks her gently. He’d be lying if her reaction doesn’t pull deeply at his heartstrings, amplifying every ounce of parenting guilt he’s been actively trying to work through for years. All he can do is remind himself of the fact that he also has room to grow in his life, and that experience won’t be without complicated feelings either.

“Oh, darling. I love you so much.” He reassures her, giving her a little more time to calm down before he starts speaking again. “There’s a lot of change happening right now, isn’t there?”

Jo nods. “It’s shit.”

Louis snorts, giving her a pass. “Change is sometimes really shit. There are some things that will never change, though.”

“I know you’ll always love me.” She replies, sighing. “But you… you love them too. And the baby. Are you – are you going to forget about me?”

“Josette, no, love.” Louis answers, rubbing down her back as she resumes crying softly. “Of course I will always love you – no matter what. But Jo, you will also always be my priority. Even before you were born, I was excited to sign up for a lifetime of putting you first. It’s the best thing I ever decided to do, and that will never change.”

“But you’re a good dad.” Jo argues. “And you’re not going to stop being a good dad to the new baby, and… Silas loves you. You’re already being a good dad to Silas, even though that’s different. I feel selfish, but… it’s hard to see you being my dad to other people.”

Louis hums. “That makes sense, love. You’re not wrong for having these feelings –”

“And it’s not that I don’t like Harry and Silas.” Jo interjects with a huff. “I probably love them, you know. I’m just too mad to admit that right now.”

He bites back a laugh. At least she’s self aware. “Jo, you’re an incredibly smart person, love. It’s okay to be upset about change, and your feelings don’t have to stay the same from one day to the next. I’m not going to sit here and lie to you that everything that’s happening will be easy, but I will not forget about you.”

“But you should put Harry, and the baby, and Silas first too .” Jo insists. “You love them. I’m not naive, Dad. I just can’t believe… I can’t believe that I have to share you.”

Louis sighs. “I – yeah, I do love Harry, and obviously that’s a different kind of love. But you’re right, I’m committing to building a relationship with him. And as for baby and Silas, of course I love them and see them as my responsibility. They’re my family – our family.” He squeezes her shoulder, nudging her gently. “But you and me, kiddo? Nothing will change the fact that we’ve been a team, just the two of us, for the past thirteen years. That’s special . Before Aunt Lottie came along, it was just me and Nan for years. That bond made our relationship extra strong, and that didn’t fade even after all of my siblings were born.”

“You didn’t feel like Nan loved you less?”

“Sometimes it was hard to feel her attention split between the lot of us.” He explains carefully. “But I never felt like she loved me less. Nan’s heart is so big, yeah? Of course she had room for all of us.”

Jo nods, wiping at her eyes. “Yours has plenty of room too, Dad.”

“Oh, darling.” Louis hugs her close, kissing her temple. “It’s scary, I know. But I’ve got you. Always.”

“For what it’s worth, I am excited to have a baby sibling.” She confesses. “I’ve been watching youtube videos about how to care for them, and I think I’ll get the hang of it really fast.”

“Jo, love, the new baby isn’t your responsibility.” Louis says gently. “I don’t want you growing up too fast, love. Harry and I don’t expect that of you or Si.”

She shrugs a shoulder. “We’re a team, Dad. I can handle a diaper change every now and again.”

“You’re more than welcome to help out, Jo, but you need to put yourself first, alright?” Louis reminds her. “I love you and your big heart, but I want you to let yourself have fun and be a teenager. Don’t worry too much about me.”

“I know, Dad. I just know I won’t be able to stand the cuteness without doing something about it.” She giggles, smiling for the first time since Louis walked into her room. “I already love them, you know?”

Louis nods, tugging his baby close once more. He shuts his eyes for a long moment, resting his cheek on the top of her head. Her strawberry body spray lingers amidst her bright orange and tea scent, a reminder of how age continues to change the little girl he’s loved since the moment he knew of her. “Yeah, love, I know. I know.”

******

Although Harry is an absolute supermum, Louis tries to step in to help where he can, including responsibilities that only involve Silas. They’re undoubtedly joining together as a family unit, and he loves Silas like his own. Naturally, however, such a big change doesn’t come without its even bigger feelings.

Harry is the expert pancake maker out of the two of them, but Louis can put together a mean yogurt bowl – Silas’ favorite. They’re running a bit behind as a whole this morning – it’s the summer, so the kids don’t have school, but Silas and Jo are headed over to their friends’ house for the day. The night prior, Harry could not get comfortable, so Louis decided to let him sleep in and take care of breakfast for the crew.

Disaster strikes when he realizes that they’re out of strawberries, the only fruit fitting for Silas’ yogurt bowls.

Normally, he’d just make Si some peanut butter and banana toast, but Jo finished off the last two slices of bread for her breakfast five minutes prior. So, hoping it’s not a big deal, he grabs a banana from the fruit bowl and slices it into Si’s yogurt.

“Sorry ‘bout the bananas, Si.” Louis comments as he sets the bowl down in front of him. “We’re out of strawberries and bread, so banana yogurt bowl it is!”

Silence.

“Si?” Louis tries, giving him some space as he heads back to the fridge, pulling out the carton of eggs to make Harry’s breakfast. 

“I don’t like bananas in my yogurt bowls.” Silas says, eerily cool.

“I know it’s not your usual, love, but we’re on a time crunch today.” Louis responds gently. “You love bananas, and you love yogurt. They’re really yummy together.”

“Only strawberries go in my yogurt bowls!” Silas exclaims, his bottom lip sticking out in a mirror image of Harry’s pout. “Bananas are for toast, Louis!”

“Hey, hey, I know, I know.” Louis soothes, abandoning the eggs to approach Silas again. “How about we take one bite together, you and me? I’ll make myself a banana yogurt bowl, and we can both have it for breakfast.”

“I don’t want it!” He cries, slamming his spoon down on the table as his eyes fill with tears. “You’re not my Mum, Louis. Mum would’ve made it right! Mum would’ve known!”

Louis pushes aside the ache that rips through his chest, knowing it’s not personal. “Si, we don’t have strawberries for yogurt or bread for toast. I know it’s hard, but can we try something new this morning? You need to eat your breakfast before you leave.”

“ No! ” He shouts, pushing his chair out from the table and scrambling away. “I want my Mum!”

“Shit.” Louis mutters under his breath, following Silas as he sprints upstairs, clearly headed for Harry’s room. By the time he makes it up there, Silas is already in bed with a freshly-awoken Harry, curled into his neck and taking in deep lungfuls of his scent.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” Harry’s eyes flash with concern, glancing between Silas and Louis. “Talk to me, baby.”

“There are no more strawberries or bread and so Louis put bananas in my yogurt.” He sobs, clinging to Harry. “He wanted me to eat it, Mum. I don’t like bananas on my yogurt. You wouldn’t have put bananas on my yogurt.”

“Oh, darling.” Harry sighs, rubbing up and down his back as he sits himself further up against the pillows. Over Silas’ head, he catches Louis’ eyes again, mouthing a simple “I love you” before turning his attention back to his son. “I’m sorry that you felt uncomfortable about your breakfast, Si. Louis knows that you like strawberries on your yogurt and bananas on your toast, but he didn’t have the tools he needed to make that happen. He just didn’t want you to go hungry for your big day today.”

“He’s not good at making my breakfast because he’s not my Mum.” Silas grumbles.

Harry nods to Louis, motioning for him to come sit on the bed next to him. “Baby, Louis was –”

The instant the mattress dips under Louis’ weight, Silas’ eyes snap open. With his sights set on Louis, a growl rips itself out of his throat.

Harry gasps, his hand flying to Louis’ thigh as he turns to Silas. “ Silas Cove Styles! That is unacceptable. We do not growl at people, especially not at our family.”

“Don’t touch my Mum.” Silas snarks, glaring at him over Harry’s body. “Louis isn’t really my family.”

The words slice through Louis, the sharp sting of hurt tugging at his heartstrings. He adores Silas, and while he knows their family is blending quicker than they intended, all he wants is to be someone Silas can rely on for support and love. The thought of him thinking differently cuts Louis deeper than he could’ve imagined.

“I –” With one glance at Harry, Louis can tell that he’s struggling not to cry at Silas’ words. “Silas. Even if you are unhappy with Louis, Louis is a part of my family. It hurts me to see you being so mean to him.”

“If Louis loved me, he wouldn’t put bananas on my yogurt.” Silas argues, a slight waver in his voice. “And he wouldn’t take my Mum from me.”

“Honey, what?” Harry asks, stunned as Silas starts to cry against his shoulder again. “Louis isn’t taking me from you, Si. I –”

“Let me.” Louis steps in gently, covering Harry’s hand with his own. “Si, I’m sorry about putting the bananas on your yogurt without asking you first, love. I know you don’t like that and I shouldn’t have asked you to try something new without preparing you first.”

Silas grunts in response, opening one eye to watch Louis warily. Louis takes the chance to continue. “I know there’s a lot of change happening right now, mate. You’re having to try a lot of new things without being prepared, and that’s stressful. I’m one of those new things, aren’t I?”

Nodding, Silas picks his head up off of Harry’s shoulder. “I didn’t see you every day before the baby, and you used to just be Mum’s friend.”

“Exactly, Si. It’s new that we’re spending so much time together, it’s new that I’m in love with your mum, and it’s new that we’re becoming a family.”

“I like it sometimes.” Silas admits. “But sometimes I wish it could go back to normal.”

Louis smiles. “I know. It’s hard for things to change so quickly and in such big ways, and I know you’re just worried about your mum. It shows how much you love him, Si. That’s the best way to make it through the change – keep loving each other. And you can take your time; only you get to decide who you love. I love your mum very much, and I love your new baby sibling, too. But that’s not all – I love you, too. I think of you as my family, just like I think of your mum and the new baby as my family.”

Silas sniffles. “I know you love me, Louis. I – I’m sorry for yelling at you and saying all those mean things. I love that you love my Mum and I love that you love me because I love you, too.”

“‘S alright, kiddo. I know you do.” Louis reaches across Harry to pat Silas’ leg. “Hey, how do you feel about peanut butter banana slices? They’ll taste the same as peanut butter banana toast, just without the bread. You can eat them with a fork or your hands.”

Silas hums, considering. “I think I’d like that.”

“Sounds good, lad. Why don’t you go pack up your bag with the books you wanted to take today, and I’ll meet you downstairs in a minute? I just want to talk to your Mum for a second.”

“‘Kay.” Silas clambers off the bed, running out of the room like nothing was ever amiss.

“Holy shit.” Harry breathes, instantly pulling Louis down to lay next to him. “He’s never growled before, and that… that caught me really off guard.”

“Little alpha protecting his mum, hm?” Louis chuckles, carding through Harry’s hair. “He’s alright, H. Just an explosion of a lot of big feelings.”

“I’m just worried about him.” Harry’s bottom lip trembles, so strikingly similar to Silas just minutes before. “I know how to be a mum, yes, but I know how to be a mum to one child. How am I ever going to split my attention between three kids? I – I want them all to feel equally loved and supported, but the new baby is going to require a lot of my focus for awhile. I have nightmares about Si feeling left behind, about Jo resenting me… god .”

“First of all, you caring this much about how to love your kids is proof that you’ll find the balance when the time comes.” Louis promises. “You’re an incredible mum, but every parent has to readjust when their family expands. I saw my mum do it time after time – sure, there were moments where I was annoyed that my little siblings took up more of her time. But Mum never made me feel like I couldn’t count on her love and support. Once my siblings grew old enough, Mum also took each of us out on a one-on-one day with Mum once a month. She built us into her schedule, and that did help me feel like she was intentionally paying each of us equal attention.”

“Maybe I’ll have to do that.” Harry murmurs. “I know we’re a team, Lou, but… like you said to Si, change isn’t easy. Some parts of it will get easier with time, but there’s still a lot to face.”

“There will be a lot of difficulty ahead.” Louis agrees. “And a lot of joy. The way I look at it, I would never want to sacrifice all of the joy ahead of us because of the unknown difficulty. I can count on us to get through it together.”

Harry’s lips twitch into a small smile. “‘S nice having a therapist for a partner. You have a very calm, reassuring voice.”

“My mum would not be able to stop laughing if you said that to her.” Louis snorts, holding eye contact with Harry. “Hey, you. I love you, darling.”

“I love you too.” Harry answers, his eyes just as bright and full of wonder as the day they met. “Now, are you still making me breakfast? Or should I just eat Si’s abandoned yogurt bowl?”

“Nah, I’m making you eggs.” Louis stands from the bed, stretching his arms over his head. “And I’m eating that damn yogurt bowl out of spite. I’ll enjoy it, too.”

Harry honks out a laugh, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His t-shirt rides up with the motion, and Louis’ heart skips a beat at the sight of his recently-popped belly button. 

“Fucking love you.” He says again, shaking his head in disbelief. How is this his life? “‘Til the end of the world, baby.”

Chapter Text

EPILOGUE: HARRY

Stevie Rose Tomlinson-Styles will likely never think of her family as blended . She was simply born into a family who loved and doted on her to the extreme.

When she’s older, she won’t remember how her parents still lived between two houses for the first few months of her life, all while trying to juggle parenting older children, selling a house, moving Louis and Jo’s entire life one door over, and keeping a newborn baby happy and healthy.

She won’t remember how Jo yelled at Harry and Louis just the day after she told them that she was excited to move into Harry’s house, sobbing about how she’ll have to watch a new family live in her childhood home.

Of course, Harry remembers that day vividly. He broke down crying alongside Jo, knowing that he couldn’t promise her anything beyond making new memories in his home – and also knowing that wasn’t enough. However, Harry’s house is two bedrooms larger, and Louis and Harry agreed that it would be more difficult to uproot Silas and Stevie, only for them to have to add an addition to the house to fit all five of them.

Stevie also won’t remember how Jo first told Harry that she loved him that day, curled up in his nest later that night with a rom com playing on the TV as a peace offering. All she will ever know is that her big sister loves her mum, and that’s what matters.

That’s not to say that her family will withhold her stories about how they came together, and nor is it to say that she won’t eventually know the logistics of how her older siblings were born. But there is something so deeply unifying about living with a newborn – everyone runs on less sleep, less stamina, and more infatuation with the baby than they ever imagined.

Harry hopes that when Stevie is older, she’ll remember how Silas immediately declared her as his best friend, apologizing to Jo a second too late. While she won’t remember him telling her that at the ripe age of one day old, he hopes she’ll remember how he insisted on reading a book to her every night, long before she could understand the words. 

He hopes that when Stevie is older, she’ll remember how Jo always helped Harry with Stevie’s morning feedings before she went to school, especially when he started exclusively pumping. Jo loved to sing to her in the transition moments to keep her from fussing, and Harry hopes she’ll remember how her older sister entertained her.

She’s only a few months old, but Harry hopes she already knows how much he and her dad adore her. Her unexpected presence forced them into partnership bootcamp, so to speak, but he falls more and more in love with Louis every day. Seeing him as a dad to Jo, Silas, and Stevie only cements the certainty with which he looks towards their future.

Once his typical heat cycle resumes, he and Louis plan to bond. He also knows that a date night to look at rings is in the coming months, a formality and a promise all in one.

For once in his life, Harry relishes in taking life slowly. He still has goals, of course, but the need to accomplish them stretches over swaths of time that he wants to experience at a gentle pace. A gentle life is all he’s ever wanted to build, and it’s all coming into fruition.

Nonetheless, Louis still cites Harry’s eagerness and ambition as the spark that drives their relationship. In the end, there will always be a balance suitable for everyone – a gentle life and an intense heart strikes just the right chord for him.