Archive of Our Own

2 and 5

"Louis, I promise. We'll be over there for five minutes, and then we'll come back and have some cake, alright sugar?"

Louis is standing angrily — well, as angrily as a five-year-old boy can look — in the kitchen doorway, his chubby arms crossed over his chest as his mum sighs down at him. "No," he says. "It's my birthday."

His mum sighs, scrubs a hand over her face. "Louis," she says, her voice suddenly stern, "if you want Mummy to be happy tomorrow, on Christmas, she needs to go get the sugar from across the street before it gets too late to ask."

Louis' chubby arms are still crossed over his chest, his angry look turning into a soft pout. "But I don't like the boy across the street."

"Who, Harry?" she asks. Louis nods. "And why not?"

"His hair colour is weird," Louis says. "It's lighter."

His mum laughs. "Your hair was light when you were young too, dear. His mum has dark hair, which means when he grows up like you, his hair'll be darker. How's that?"

Louis huffs. "Then I'll talk to him when he's older. I don't like light hair."

His mum frowns. "Louis, I can't leave you here alone. Either you come with me or I bring the cake to Harry and he can celebrate your birthday for you."

Louis feels tears spring into his eyes as he lets his mother put his coat and snow boots on, and they leak out of his eyes as they trudge across the icy gravel road to the identical house across the way.

His mum knocks and waits, bending down to wipe the tears from his cheeks. "Thank you baby, I'm very happy you came with me."

Louis doesn't say a word, not even when his mum tells him to say hello to the pretty lady who answers the door. He stares at his black boots with spiderman on the sides and kicks a stray piece of ice.

"Let me go get it," the lady says. "You can come in if you'd like? Keep warm?"

Then he's being pulled inside into a near-identical foyer by his mum. It smells like apples and chocolate chip cookies, and a squeal and a thud come from the room next to them.

"Gemma!" The woman screams into the room, the sugar in her hand. "Put your brother down!"

Louis doesn't see the boy, but knows the blonde boy is there, probably crying like a fussy smelly baby, probably needs his diaper changed. Louis prides himself in not wearing diapers anymore. His mum even let him into the mens room alone last week, he got to use a urinal. Turning five makes him a big boy.

His mum thanks the lady and says, "Oh yes, we'd love to come over for Christmas dinner. Thank you so much, Anne..." he tunes out then because not only did his mum just agree to make him eat with the baby, he'll have to play with him too.

As a smart five-year-old, he waits a respectable amount of time after cake and presents before throwing a fit about going to Anne's house the next day.

He ends up staring into the corner of the living room for half an hour on his fifth birthday.

**

"Mummy," Louis whines as his mother pulls the sweater over his head, "I don't want to!"

"And I don't care what you don't want to do," she says. She tugs on the legs of his trousers and runs her fingers through his hair. "You're a big boy now, Louis. I let you go to the washroom by yourself, let you dress yourself, and you poured your cereal this morning. You're a big boy and you need to start acting like one."

The tears well in his eyes but he shakes them away, earning him a tsk from his mum for messing up his hair.

When they step inside the flat across the street, all he sees is a tan and blonde flash and hears a squeal splits the air molecules and Anne is apologising and his own mummy his laughing.

"Harry!" Anne shouts. A little blonde head pokes out from the doorframe.

Louis' eyes immediately meet with his, and he puts on his big-boy mean eyes at the baby. Harry's eyes widen dramatically like a cartoon, big green ones, and he squeaks and hides behind the door frame, just a sliver of his bare hip jutting out into the hall.

Anne glances momentarily down at Louis then shakes her head. "Harry dear, we have people over. You need to go put your clothes back on."

The hip disappears from view and feet stomp up a wooden staircase hidden from view as they're led into the dining room and sat at the table. Louis is sat down next to a chair with a booster seat on it and he almost groans, but then he'd be put in the corner again.

"My dearest apologies," Anne says as she seats them. "He's usually very good when we have company."

"No worries," Louis' own mum says. "Louis was the same way."

"But I'm five today," he cuts in, and both the adults look at him with fond smiles. "I'm a big boy. I know to keep my bits covered when there are other people around."

"Yes you do, Louis. Very good," his mum says. She reaches across the table and ruffles his hair as a girl maybe a bit older than him comes in and takes a seat next to him. She smiles at him, one of her teeth missing and dimples creating valleys in her cheeks.

"I'm Gemma," the girl says. She holds out her hand like grownups do and Louis shakes it like grownups do.

"I'm Louis."

"How old are you?" the girl asks. Louis realises this must be the baby's older sister. Poor girl.

"I turned five yesterday," he says proudly. Gemma's eyes widen dramatically.

"A birthday the day before Christmas? Do you get extra presents?" Louis opens his mouth to answer but she pouts and turns to her mother and pushes out her bottom lip, "Mummy? How come I don't have a Christmas birthday?"

Anne chuckles. "It's not that simple, dear."

Gemma rolls her eyes as her mother turns her head to the kitchen door and smiles. "Yes it is, mum. You could've told the stork to bring me on Christmas Eve!"

She doesn't get an answer however because the blonde boy is back, chocolate smeared on his face and a what Louis hopes is more chocolate on his pants. The baby's eyes widen again when they meet Louis' and he buries his dirty face into his mum’s neck.

"I don't know what's gotten into him," Anne says apologetically. "I'm going to go clean him up and then we'll eat, Jay."

Louis' mum waves a dismissive hand and smiles.

Soon enough they return and Anne places Harry in his booster seat and Harry nearly shrivels away from Louis, but Gemma reaches over and pets the top of his head soothingly.

Louis doesn't pay much attention through dinner, but he does feel Harry pick up his hand and play with his fingers while their mummies drink dark-red liquid from their cups and giggle quite a lot.

Maybe Louis should be weirded out that this boy his touching his hand, tugging on each of his fingers slowly rubbing his own chubby fingers over them, but it's somehow soothing and he doesn't realise that Gemma is watching the whole ordeal until she taps him on the shoulder.

"That means he likes you," she states matter-of-factly. "He likes fingers a lot. We don't know why."

Harry rubs Louis' fingers until they fall asleep and Louis' mum wraps him up in her arms and takes him home. He misses the feeling immediately.

**

"Mummy?" Louis asks a few days later. "Can we go see Harry?"

His mum raises her eyebrows and chuckles into the sink. "You want to go across the street? I thought you didn't like Harry."

Louis suddenly wants to cry. He digs his fists into his eyes and pouts. "I don't hate him, mum."

Jay chuckles again and nods. "Alright," she says, "I'll call Anne to see if it's okay."

It turns out its okay because he's being bundled up in his favorite superman sweater and his red snow coat and spiderman boots.

They trudge across the icy gravel and are welcomed into cookie and baby powder-smelling warmth.

"Hello Louis," Anne says, her eyes sparkling in a way Louis doesn't understand. "Harry's in the sitting room coloring if you'd like to join him."

Louis resists the urge to roll his blue eyes into the back of his head. Coloring. He nods though and takes his boots off, sits them down by the door, and slides his socked feet into the room where the little blonde baby is coloring a picture of a flower on the coffee table.

He sits down gingerly next to the boy, startling him. His green eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he recognises Louis and grins. "Woowee," he says.

"Yeah," Louis says. "Louis."

Harry furrows his brows and frowns. "Woowee," he says again.

Louis supposes its okay. He had 'L' troubles before he turned five.

Harry smiles again and drops his crayon, and takes Louis' hand into his own and tugs on his fingers.

He tugs on Louis' thumb. "One," Harry says, concentrating very hard. "Two," he says. "Fwee," he tugs on his middle finger harder than the others and Louis squawks a little and Harry looks up worriedly.

"It's okay, Harry," Louis says. "Just pulled too hard."

Harry smiles softly. He tugs his middle finger again, much softer. "Fwee."

"Yeah, three, Harry," he says. With his free hand he points to his ring finger. "Four."

Harry nods. "Fouw." He tugs lastly on Louis' pinky. "Fwee?"

Louis shakes his head. "No, Harry. Five," he says, pointing to Harry's own pinky. "Five," he says again.

Harry suddenly jabs his finger into Louis chest. "Five!"

"Yeah," Louis says. "I'm five! How old are you, Harry?"

Harry pauses and furrows his brows again. He holds up three fingers. "Two!"

Louis laughs, he can't help it. He pushes one finger down and smiles. "That's two, Harry!"

Neither of them see their mothers watching from the doorway until Harry gets a crayon stuck up his nose and they laugh.

5 and 7

Louis' fingers are entrapped in Harry's hand as they sit on the curb, Harry rubbing Louis' fingers one by one. Louis has never asked why Harry does it but it's nice, and Harry's his best friend. So it's all okay — it doesn't mean anything it isn't supposed to.

Although, Louis knows nothing about dating or love or anything much, really, but Gemma's nine now and learned what grownups do in bed from a boy on her bus, and Louis has never been so fascinated.

"Yeah," Gemma tells him while Harry uses the toilet, "they like, get naked and touch each other."

"Their bits?" Louis asks. Gemma nods, a mischievous smile on her face.

"Their bits. And then their bits touch."

"Whose whats touch?" Anne asks as she walks into the kitchen. Gemma's cheeks go beet red and she looks down at the wood table.

"No ones, mum."

"That's what I thought," Anne says. Louis sees her smile.

But now, as Louis sits with Harry tugging on his fingers, his mind wanders to this word he hears a lot — love. He doesn't really understand love, but his mum tells him and his new baby sister that she loves them all the time.

He dismisses the thought when Harry decides to get Gemma's bright pink nail polish and paint Louis' nails.

**

"I hate her," Louis says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Mum doesn't even pay attention to me anymore."

Harry looks up from his writing sheet with furrowed brows. "You don't hate her," he says, "you love Charlotte."

Louis snorts. "Love is a strong word, young Harold."

Harry pouts. "I hate it when you call me that."

"I know."

"So then why d'you do it?"

Louis shrugs. "Just do."

Harry huffs and puts his pencil down gingerly on the table. "You love your baby sister Louis, I promise."

Louis doesn't understand how a five-year-old boy could possibly know he loves his sister if he doesn't think so. "Gemma told me that when I was born, she hated me for a really long time," Harry says, "but she got over it once she realised I wasn't going anywhere."

Louis chuckles and picks up Harry's pencil and closes his 'O's. "Your O's look like U's, Harry."

Harry pouts again. "Writing is hard."

In his little seven-year-old head he wants to write Harry a novel.

**

The Beatles are playing loudly in the background while Louis and Harry lay in the middle of Harry's sitting room singing along.

Gemma comes in some time later and kicks them both in the sides, tells them so shut the hell up, and Harry chokes.

"Gemma!" he says. "Mouth!"

"Harry," she says, "you're five, and I'm nine. I'm going to win this argument, no matter what."

That's the end of that for a while until Harry sits up and pokes Louis in the belly. "Louis?"

Louis reaches over and lowers the music, "Yeah?"

"What exactly did Gemma say?"

Louis cocks his head to the side and smiles. "What d'you mean?"

Harry bites his lip. "I mean, I don't — mum always yells at Gemma when she says that word, and says its a bad word, but I don't know what it means."

"What the word he—" he's cut off by Harry's hand on his mouth.

"Don't say it! It's bad!"

Louis smiles under Harry's mouth and takes his wrist in his own hand, removing Harry's fingers from his lips. "I don't really know what it means, Haz. Sorry. I know it's bad and stuff, but I don't really know."

Harry nods. "Do you know other bad words?"

Louis' face hurts from smiling, it really does. "Yeah, I do."

After that, every time Louis tells Harry a curse, Harry squeals and giggles and tells Louis not to say it or his mum'll spank him and wash his mouth out with soap.

7 and 9

"Mum! I'm going to Harry's!" Louis shouts, grabbing his coat from the hook.

"Louis!" she whisper yells, "what did I tell you about shouting? Do you want Felicité and Charlotte to wake up?"

Louis' cheeks turn red and he shakes his head. "No mum."

His mum ruffles his hair and sighs. "Wish Harry a happy birthday from me, darling."

Yes, it's Harry's birthday. A smile spreads across his face and he nods and steps out into the cold February winter air and trudges across the street through the fresh layer of snow on the ground.

He knocks on the door and waits a respectable time before he opens the door and lets himself in just as Harry is coming into the foyer to do the same. They smile at each other and Louis holds out the terribly-wrapped present. "Happy birthday, Harry."

Harry blushes wildly and takes the gift from Louis' hands, prods it with his fingers, then drops it and pulls Louis into a big hug.

"You're my best friend," Harry says. Louis rubs his back and smiles.

"You're mine too, Haz."

"Hello Louis," Anne says, smiling from the doorway of the kitchen. Louis waves as Harry lets him go and picks up his gift.

"Can I open it?" Harry asks. Louis raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, unless it isn't your birthday you can."

Harry blushes again and takes Louis' hand and drags him up to his room that's still painted light blue from when he was a baby. It's ridiculously endearing, it what Louis decides every time he walks in there.

(He doesn't even know what endearing means, but every time Fizzy or Lottie does something cute, it's what his mum says to his step-dad.)

They sit down on Harry's bed, their knees touching as Harry carefully tears the wrapping paper away.

"Oh come on," Louis says, "don't savor my wrapping job."

"It means a lot to me," Harry says. "I'll probably hang the paper on my wall."

Although Louis knows he's joking, he'd very much like him not to be.

Louis watches as Harry pulls out a pink blanket, identical to the one Louis has at home, except in blue. The first thing Harry does is smile. "You have this in blue!"

"Yeah," Louis says. "They're like — boyfriend-girlfriend blankets but," he shrugs, "I dunno, I liked them for us."

"Best birthday present ever," Harry says. And he's beaming, rubbing the material carefully between the fingers of one hand and with his other hand, he's rubbing Louis' fingers. Louis doesn't register Harry's lips on his cheek either until it's over and Harry's blushing like crazy against his headboard. "Thank you."

Louis smiles sheepishly. "Course."

"Harry?" Anne's voice calls from downstairs. "Lunch!"

Harry grins. "Mum made my favorite," he says, wrapping his new blanket around his shoulders. "Macaroni and cheese with tuna in it."

Louis scrunches up his nose, "you know I hate tuna."

"That's why I asked her to leave some set aside for you," Harry says, sitting down in his usual chair to the left of Louis. "Wouldn't do that to my best friend."

That's one thing Louis just — loves about Harry. He always thinks of others before himself, even though he can't even multiply by two's yet. He's this incredibly selfless boy and Louis doesn't know how he does it, really.

They eat mac'n'cheese together in the sitting room watching a French program Harry likes to watch that Louis barely understands and neither does Harry.

"It's easy enough to understand through the movements though," Harry says all the time. "Like the episode where the toy plane gets stuck in the tree! It's all so obvious."

Louis falls asleep on the couch with Harry's head on his shoulder and his mum comes to pick him up some time later, but Harry fusses about it and they stay for dinner and cake and The Lion King on DVD.

As they're watching Louis remembers back when Harry was a little baby with blonde hair and blue eyes, and now he's got green eyes and brown curls that spring about when he shakes his head yes or no or laughs.

When Simba pushes Scar off the cliff, Harry jolts and grabs Louis' thigh and their mums look over at them and Gemma snorts from her place on the floor with her maths homework.

"Oh!" Jay says. "It's nearly ten! Louis, come on dear, you have school tomorrow."

"Can't I stay over?" he asks. "It's Harry's birthday!"

Jay shakes her head. "No baby, we have to go." She pulls him off the couch and Harry looks at him sadly as he shrugs on his coat and his boots.

Harry snuggles into the blanket as Louis leaves and his mum pets his hair as Louis closes the door.

**

"It's so hot," Harry says dramatically. "I can't take it."

"You're already naked," Louis says. "Not much else you can do."

Louis is so used to Harry's bits at this point that he's not uncomfortable when Harry's naked around him, and Harry's the same with Louis, though truthfully Louis is rarely naked because he's older and he'll change before Harry does and he doesn't want to go there. Louis would never tell Harry, but he woke up sticky in his boxers that morning. He'll never tell him though.

(His mum called it a "wet dream", and it's

normal when boys start "puberty". Louis has never been so terrified.)

"How come you're not naked? Aren't you dying?"

Louis shrugs. He's only wearing his spiderman briefs, but it's apparently not good enough for Harry. "I'm alright, really. You keep being naked. 'S all good."

Harry obliges and smiles, stretching out all the kinks in his muscles before settling down with a satisfied groan.

(He also won't tell Harry that he woke up sticky after a dream about him.)

"Boys," Anne says, walking into the room. She takes one look at Louis and he knows she knows. All she does is smile and wink, however, and then sets lemonade down on Harry's desk and opens the windows wider. "Gemma's in the pool if you'd like to join her."

"We're good," Harry says. Anne nods and smiles on her way out.

"Stay cool, loves," she says as she turns on Harry's fan as she leaves.

"Why'd my mum wink at you?" Harry asks, turning his head to look at Louis. "When she walked in? She winked."

"I saw," Louis says, handing Harry a lemonade. He shrugs, "I don't know why she winked at me."

Harry clearly dismisses the thought and makes grabby hands at his pink blanket. "Can you hand me my blanket?" he asks, his bottom lip in a pout. Louis snorts.

"It's like a million degrees and you want a blanket?"

Harry shrugs. "It's nice when I'm naked. Feels good."

Louis ignores everything that goes through his pre-pubescent brain as he hands Harry the blanket and Harry curls inside of it, laying his head in Louis' lap. "Thank you," he purrs.

Louis hums in response and absently runs his fingers through Harry's damp-with-sweat curls.

"Louis?" Harry asks sometime later, long after Louis has decided to lay down and shut his eyes.

"Hmm?"

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" Harry asks.

Louis almost jolts, but he stops himself. "Yeah, why?"

"Who?" Harry asks, almost sounding nervous.

"Hannah? She's in my year and we were at recess—" Harry pinches his thigh and he knows to shut up.

"How was it?"

Louis shrugs. "Normal, I guess. I don't have much else to compare it to."

Another silence returns for a while before Harry speaks again. "Was it only once?"

"Was what only once?" Louis asks.

"Kissing Hannah."

Louis shifts under Harry's head that has migrated up to his stomach. "Yeah, just once. I didn't really enjoy it. I haven't a crush on her or anything."

He looks down as Harry looks up and wiggles his eyebrows. "Who've you got a crush on then?"

Louis laughs. "None of your business!"

Harry pinches his side and shifts the blanket on his shoulders. "Oh c'mon! I'm your best friend."

"I'll tell you when you've had your first kiss, how's that?"

"That'll be never," Harry pouts. Louis reaches down and pinches his cheek.

"You're seven, Harry," Louis says with a smile. "You've like, eight years before it gets sad."

Harry jolts on his stomach and spews, "Can I kiss you?"

Louis stops smiling and pulls his hand out of Harry's curls. "What?"

Harry's eyes are the size of dinner plates. "I didn't say that. I didn't say anything." He's sitting up, wrapping himself up in the blanket tighter, and averting his eyes. "You should go."

Louis' heart hurts, but he nods and pulls his trousers and t-shirt on, and slips on his flip-flops. "See you tomorrow?"

Harry nods. "Yep. I'll be here."

**

Nothing's awkward. It's okay. Louis walks in the front door the next day with his overnight bag and Harry just hugs him for a long time and drags him up to his room.

"You're not sleeping on the floor," is the first thing Harry says to him. Louis snorts.

"And why's that?"

"Because the floor's cold," Harry says, shrugging. "Share the bed with me."

"Harry," Louis says, dropping his bag, "it's August. Sharing a bed will be like sharing a sleeping bag good enough for -100 degree weather."

Harry turns to him and smiles. "But then we can cuddle. You like cuddling."

Louis purses his lips. "Yeah, I do like cuddling."

Harry pats the bed and it's then Louis realises Harry's already naked. "Come sit with me, Lou."

Louis rolls his eyes and smiles, strips himself down to his briefs and climbs up next to Harry, laying his head down on Harry's stomach.

Harry's fingers card through Louis' hair for a while before speaking as the sun sets. "You never answered my question."

Louis tilts his head to look at the younger boy. "I wasn't aware I was asked a question."

"From yesterday," Harry says, scratching his thigh.

"Oh."

He's seven, Louis. You're nine. Make the right decision.

Louis purses his lips in thought, his eyes locking with Harry's. "No, Harry, I won't. Sorry."

Harry pouts and tweaks Louis' nipple. "Why?"

Louis sits up and leans his back against Harry's torso. "It's not appropriate."

"Neither is me being naked," Harry protests.

"Harry," Louis says sternly (although, his voice sounds like that of a three-year-old rather than one who had a wet dream yesterday), "drop it, please."

Harry pouts again but nonetheless takes Louis' hand into his own and tugs on his fingers without rhyme or reason.

One would think that at 5:15 after the sun has set, most boys their age would be inside, but such is not the case because Louis and Harry suddenly hear the telltale signs of boys playing on the gravel street.

"I thought we were the only boys on the street?" Harry asks as he pulls on his clothes and follows Louis down the stairs.

"We are," Louis says as they run out, and are met with three new faces.

"Oh," the first one says. "Uh, hi."

Louis blinks at him. He has a funny accent to him, one too north for boring Manchester. He has jet-black hair and tan skin, lean and a really, really nice face. "Hi," Louis says. "Um — I'm Louis, and uh, this is Harry," he says, gesturing backwards to the boy who has resumed rubbing Louis' fingers in anxiety.

"I'm Zayn," the boy says. He points a finger backwards, "the puppy boy is Liam and the blonde one is Niall."

"I do not look like a puppy," Liam complains, sticking out his bottom lip and only confirming the puppy analysis.

"Did you just move here?" Louis asks. Zayn shakes his head.

"We aren't brothers," Zayn says. "Although, me and Niall do live here, on the next street over. Liam's visiting my family. Our mums were uni roommates or something."

"They're a former lesbian couple," Niall cackles behind him.

(If Louis had a single clue what that meant, he'd laugh.)

Zayn and Liam both glare at the blonde boy with a distinct Irish accent. "I'm staying for the rest of the summer," Liam says. "And my mum was never a lesbian."

"I don't even know what that is," Louis says.

(He supposes he shouldn't have said anything, because Niall has an older brother and knows all these websites with people having sex on them. Harry covers his ears and shuts his eyes, and Louis kisses his temple once the new boys go home.)

"That was horrifying," Harry says once they've left. He's smiling (always is) but his clothes stay on his body.

"You were awfully quiet," Louis says, smiling at him.

Harry shrugs. "Whatever we just watched was so..." he trails off.

"Gross?" Louis supplies, earning a giggle from Harry.

"Yeah," Harry says. "Gross."

"Agreed," Louis says. He watches as Harry shrugs his shoulders and strips down again, seemingly more comfortable.

It's okay. Always is.

13 and 15

[Just a note; in the four years skipped:

-Louis goes through puberty and Harry makes fun of him until Harry's voice cracks dramatically during an essay contest and Louis gets his revenge

-Louis has his first girlfriend

-(And his first blowjob)

-Harry doesn't know about either

-Louis realises he's gay

-Harry realises he likes fingers for a reason (take from that what you will)

-Liam moves in closer (the school is better, or as Niall puts it, "So the lesbian love can continue.")

-Zayn and Louis essentially become stoners (for a 15 and 14-year-old)

-Harry almost (almost) kisses Louis

-Louis has still not told Harry about his wet dream

-(And he never will)]

"You're fucking mad, Lou," Zayn says, smoke curling out of his mouth. "I'm telling you. Acid is scary as fuck."

"So is anal," Louis counters. He takes a drag from the joint and hands it to Zayn. "But everyone still does it."

"Not everyone," Zayn mutters.

"Everyone tries anal," Louis says. Zayn says nothing but grunts when he stubs out the last joint.

"I'll get Niall to get some more of that," Zayn says. "It's real good."

Louis hums in agreement. "I think I like Harry."

(He's definitely high off his rocker.)

"No shit."

"No," Louis says. "Like, I really like him. Like like him."

"Again," Zayn says, a small smile playing at his lips, "no shit."

Louis flips him off and reaches for the almost-empty jar on the table. "Do you think he likes me?"

Zayn takes the jar from Louis. "Don't waste my pot. And yeah, he obviously does."

Louis beams. "Yeah?"

"Yes," Zayn says again. "It's really obvious."

Louis is still beaming by the time Zayn's rolled another joint, but he finds it hard to smoke properly and sadly has to stop.

**

"You really think so?" Louis asks Niall while they're sat in McDonalds.

(Harry's been in France on vacation for a week. Louis has been incredibly antsy.)

"Are you deaf and blind?" Niall asks, shaking his head in disbelief. "He gets naked around you."

"He gets naked around everyone," Louis counters. He steals one of Niall's chips and Niall huffs in annoyance.

"Do I have to remind you of the second time you two almost kissed?"

Louis blushes.

(Just three weeks earlier Louis brought Harry to a party at someones house and they played spin the bottle. Harry's turn landed on Louis, and they were about two centimeters away from each other, but then someone threw up in the circle and the game was over.)

"No, I remember."

"I've never seen that kid so eager to do anything," Niall says. He swallows a big gulp of vodka (he's the type to bring his own water bottle places filled with various alcohols) and then rolls his eyes. "He even liked you when we met you guys, when you were nine or something."

Louis doesn't really know what to say. If Liam weren't on vacation in Florida he'd certainly be asking him his opinion as well. But two of his best friends — and even Gemma — have convinced Louis that Harry is in love with him. (And that he's in love with Harry.)

"Okay," is what he says after a while. He lets his shoulders slump. "Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Do you think I should tell him about the blowjob?" he asks.

Niall raises his eyebrows. "What blowjob?"

Oh god, there's no way I'm getting out of this one. "I dated Hannah last year and before we broke up she blew me," he says, "but I don't want to tell Harry."

"I think you tell your best friend about the blowjob, or your nine-year-old bedtime fun."

Louis flips him off as he laughs. "That was not fun," he says. "It happened like, eight more times that summer. It still happens."

"When was your last one?"

Louis groans. "We're not going to talk about my dick, thanks."

Niall holds up his hands in defense. "Fine, sorry. But I think you should tell him."

"Tell him which?"

"Both, I guess," Niall says. "But maybe wait till he's a bit older, yeah?"

"Yeah," Louis says.

17 and 15

Louis, by any means, does not mean to hook up with Zayn.

He's drunk and high, Harry went home three hours ago after kissing Louis' temple with a smile, Niall's passed out on the couch, and Liam went home just a few minutes ago. And they're sat on the couch together passing a joint and laughing at everything the other says — they're a right mess.

But somewhere along the way, in the fog of their minds, Zayn's hand creeps up Louis' thigh and eventually rests on his crotch and Louis would never refuse a handjob, especially from a perfect human like Zayn Malik.

So he doesn't and he also doesn't refuse Zayn's mouth on his cock either. He isn't even guilty or grossed out when he comes down Zayn's throat and Zayn doesn't even flinch.

(And of course he returns the favor. Of course he does.)

**

"I blew Zayn," Louis says, his fingers being tugged by Harry up in Harry's room. The tugging stops.

"What?"

"I blew Zayn and he blew me," he says, a pain rising in his chest. "It was after you left on Friday."

Harry lets go of Louis' hand entirely. "Okay."

"Okay?" Louis asks. "Just 'okay'?"

Harry shrugs. "Why wouldn't it be okay? You're a big boy, you can do whatever you want."

Louis didn't expect those words to come out of his mouth. He expected a long, angry rant, and a confession of his love or something. But all he got was okay.

"You're sure this is okay?" Louis asks. Harry nods. "Right," Louis says.

The thing is, he loves Harry. He's pretty sure that's been true since he met him when Harry was still blonde and Louis was still a brat. He loves Harry so much that he doesn't know what to do with himself sometimes.

"It's not okay," Louis says. "With me."

"Why." It's not a question, it's just spoken with little emotion and care as Harry stares down at his phone screen.

Louis huffs. Here it is. "Because I really like you, Harry."

"Okay." And there it goes.

Now he's a bit pissed. "Okay?" he asks. "Another okay? I tell you I like you and all you can say is fucking okay?"

Harry shrugs. "I don't know how you want me to respond."

Louis is fuming. "Just — don't then."

He gets up and leaves and ignores Harry's pleading and confused Louis? as he slams his door.

**

It's after the thirtieth pleading text Louis has gotten from Harry before he smartly shuts off his phone.

At this point he doesn't want to hear what Harry has to say. It's only been 24 hours since Louis slammed Harry's door and he feels nothing but pure anger towards his best friend.

im so sorry

louis please text me back

cmon u know i can be a total prick

louis please

please?

Louis just — he doesn't know what to do. He tells Harry he likes him and Harry is impassive. It doesn't make any sense.

At some point his mum calls down for him because Harry's at the door, so he climbs out of his window and drives himself to the park.

He has absolutely no clue how Harry finds him, but eventually he's being cornered on a yellow plastic slide.

"I'm sorry," is the first thing Harry says, and then, "I like you too."

Louis snorts. "I'm supposed to believe that?"

Harry pouts. "Yeah."

"After how you basically dismissed what I'd said to you? Fat chance."

"I was pissed," Harry says.

"Why?"

Harry wrings his hands. "I was pissed at — at you and Zayn."

Louis blinks. "Pissed at us for...?"

"Hooking up."

"Oh." Maybe it shouldn't make him smug, but it does, disgustingly enough. He nods though. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Harry says. "It's in the past." He clears his throat. "I've liked you for a while, y'know."

"It's quite obvious, love," Louis says with a chuckle. Harry blushes obviously and kicks Louis' thigh.

"Budge up," Harry says. Louis rolls his eyes and complies, sliding over so Harry can fit himself in the little space. "Thanks."

"No problem," Louis breathes, kicking a rock on the ground. He takes a big breath and lets it out slowly. "So. We like each other."

"We do," Harry agrees.

"What now?" Louis asks.

Harry snorts. "You think I know?"

"I dunno," Louis says with a shrug. Louis thinks for a moment before he speaks again. "I always thought you were straight?"

Harry gives him a look of pure amusement. "Seriously? I've never liked girls. That time Niall showed us porn turned me off to straight-sex for the rest of my life."

Louis cackles. "Seriously? That shit is so over dramatised," he says, shaking his head. He looks over at Harry who's giving him another amused look. Louis blushes. "Not like I'd know. One blowjob from a boy isn't really anything to compare to a girl, I suppose."

Harry's silent for a while, and together they watch a little girl fall and scrape her knee, and another little girl and little boy, no older than seven, share a kiss under a big oak tree. Harry stirs next to Louis then.

"It's been almost ten years," Harry says, laughing to himself.

"Since?"

"Since I first asked you to kiss me," Harry says, looking at Louis.

Louis feels butterflies well up in his stomach and (against his better judgement, probably) grabs Harry's face and kisses him on the mouth, for less than three seconds, but Louis can easily say it's the best kiss of his life.

(And, as far as he knows, Harry's first.)

It's like something clicks then, like the final piece of a 1,000 piece puzzle piece is placed down, completing the long, tedious process. It feels good.

Louis pulls back and opens his eyes to find that Harry's are still closed, his eyebrows furrowed, and his breathing slightly elevated. Louis reaches out and smooths at the line between Harry's eyebrows with his thumb.

Harry finally opens his eyebrows and throws Louis a small smile. "Good?" Louis asks.

Harry smiles bigger. "Kissing is weird," he says. "I don't wanna kiss anyone else but you."

Louis rolls his eyes. "Sap."

"But you love me," Harry says, poking Louis in the side and laughing.

(The word love makes Louis' insides flutter, makes his ears and the tips of his fingers and toes tingle, makes his cheeks and his lips hot, and among other things that perk up in interest on his body, makes his brain flash a big, fluorescent sign that says, yes! you big fucking idiot! you love him! now say it! tell him you love him and kiss him again!)

"I do love you," he says. Harry looks down and blushes and startles suddenly. "Okay?" Louis asks.

He doesn't need an answer because the rain starts pelting down on them and they run to Louis' car, turn up the heat with laughs leaving their lungs and Gold by Imagine Dragons blasts from Louis' speakers. He lowers it just as Harry decides it's apparently a good time to kiss again and grabs his face in his massive fucking hands and presses their lips together.

It isn't heated, which should disappoint Louis but at this point, really doesn't. It's another quick one and Harry's quick to retract himself into his seat after it happens. "Are we boyfriends?"

Louis backs out of his parking space and turns onto the main road. "D'you want to be?"

Louis sees Harry nod eagerly out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah," Harry says.

Louis smiles. "Then yeah, we are."

18 and 16

The amount of innuendos Harry has been throwing out for the past year is ridiculously disgusting. They haven't yet had sex and Louis knows it's starting to take a toll on Harry.

(Harry and Louis both argue with the other boys that blowjobs, handjobs and rimming don't count as sex. Niall argues that, technically then, lesbians would never lose their virginity. Both Zayn and Liam kick him in the shins.)

Louis' argument is that Harry is still too young and fragile for such a jump like that; that it's a real emotional thing, much unlike porn; that Louis has some little things he needs to know; that Louis' dick could be too big (that one always makes Harry laugh and makes Louis pout).

Harry's arguments are much less rigid: that Louis has already stuck so much shit up in Harry that he can deal with Louis' tiny dick ("Eight and a half inches is not tiny, you arse!"); that Harry's the only one in his friend group at school that hasn't had sex ("Neither have I, you horny little shit."); that Louis goes off to uni next year and Harry wants them to fuck at least once before he's going to be reduced to using the clone-a-willy Louis bought him for his birthday and having to pay for endless orders from LoveHoney with the money he earns at the bakery he works at.

It happens on a Monday, while Harry's mum is out on a date with some guy named Robin.

Harry's on his back, his feet flat on the bed and his knees bent in the air, his chest heaving as he comes down from the orgasm he's just had with three of Louis' fingers tucked into his arse.

"That's it love," Louis says, kissing the inside of his thigh. "So good for me."

"Louis," he says, his voice totally shot, "I really want you to fuck me."

Louis fights the urge to roll his eyes. "I don't think you're ready." He swipes two of his clean fingers through the mess on Harry's belly and sticks them in Harry's mouth to avoid any arguing. He doesn't want to fight before he can have a satisfying orgasm of his own.

Harry says something around his fingers he can't understand, so he retracts his fingers and wipes both of his dirtied hands on the sheets of Harry's bed. "What was that?"

Harry's calmed down by now and he licks his lips slowly. "I said if you aren't going to fuck me then do something else," he says. "Get out the dildo or something. The beads, I don't care."

It's not that Louis is scared — well, okay. He's scared. Scared he'll hurt Harry, his best friend of a million and six years, scared he'll stretch him too much or not be able to stop when Harry says because the pleasure will be too good and his dick will stray away from his brain and not care about what it has to say.

It's like Harry can read his mind however, because he furrows his eyebrows and reaches a hand down to where Louis is still laying in between his legs. He strokes his hand over his cheek like he didn't just desperately beg to come atop Louis' fingers just minutes before. "Nothing bad's gonna happen, Lou. Promise."

Louis sits up and crosses his legs and pouts. He feels like a little kid who doesn't want to go on a ride that all of his friends want to go on and he isn't getting what he wants. Except his cock is hanging heavy between his legs and leaking onto Harry's blue sheets periodically. "I'm scared."

Harry sits up next to him, his sweaty curls beginning to dry and stick up this way and that off of his head. He doesn't understand how a sixteen-year-old boy who couldn't properly close his O's until he was fourteen can be so ready for something like this and Louis, an eighteen-year-old boy, isn't. It blows his mind. (Harry just does that to him in general, but that's besides the point.)

"I don't know why you are, so I won't say I understand," Harry says, rubbing a hand over Louis' back. (Louis would much rather it be in his cock, thank you very much.) "I guess — I mean part of it is actually physically hurting me, right?" Louis nods.

Louis knew his boyfriend was an idiot, but getting out a fucking tape measure and measuring Louis' girth against the biggest dildo he owns is so fucking dumb he can't help but laugh at him.

"See! Smaller than this dildo, the one we use all the time," he says. "I'll be fine, you know I'd tell you to stop if it was too much, babe."

Louis blinks a few times, takes about sixty deep breaths, and then nods.

He's never seen Harry happier in his life as he scrambles to his bedside table and pulls out an unopened box of condoms. "I've been waiting ages to open this."

Louis rolls his eyes and takes the packet he's handed and then rolls his eyes again when Harry asks, "how d'you want me?"

"On your back is fine," Louis first says, and then, "no, I want you to ride me. Then you can stop if you need to."

Harry nods curtly and fucking salutes Louis like he's in the damn army. If Louis didn't know any better, he'd think he's about to fuck a five-year-old. "Yes, sir."

(Louis prays Harry doesn't notice his dick twitch at that. He's saving his kinks for later.)

Louis tears the foil and rolls the condom down his length, finally getting a little pressure on his until-then neglected cock. He takes the bottle of lube in his hand and crawls up Harry's bed, settling himself sitting with his legs crossed Indian-style against the headboard. He pats his thighs and Harry crawls over, sitting himself on Louis' legs. "Wanna lube me up, babe?"

Harry nods eagerly and takes the lube from Louis' outstretched hand. "Beam me up, Scotty!"

Louis chokes as Harry laughs. "You had to ruin this with a shitty joke," Louis says. Harry's still giggling to himself as he sets the lube off to the side and rises up a little with Louis' cock in his hand. "Sorry," Harry says, smiling.

Louis' breath his caught in his throat. "Ready?"

Harry nods again. "Absolutely."

Louis smiles and latches his hands onto Harry's hips. That's all Harry needs because then he's slowly lowering himself onto Louis' dick.

It's so much more amazing than Louis imagined. Even though he has Harry's hole mapped out in his head from the year of just fingers, he's never felt Harry like this — constantly clenching an unclenching, stretching around him perfectly, tight and hot and wet around his cock. He's making these amazing little noises that leave his lips every time he slides down more and more up until he's seated on Louis' cock completely, still clenching the slightest with a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and chest.

Louis leans forward and kisses him, their tongues meeting and each of them mapping the others' mouth. Somewhere during the time when they're kissing Harry starts gyrating his hips and Louis moans into his mouth and he feels Harry smile. They detach their lips and stare at each other for a minute before Louis squeezes Harry's hips.

"If you're good to go, I'm good, babe," he says.

Harry doesn't answer but instead slowly lifts up and slides back down, setting an agonising and beautiful pace on Louis' cock.

Louis has never felt more alive. He has a beautiful view of a beautiful boy slowly moving on his cock, panting into his face, nails digging into his shoulders. The tightness around his dick is incredible, and only gets better some odd minutes later when Harry moans ridiculously loudly and bounces a little harder and clenches hard around Louis while he nails his own prostate. He watches his own cock disappear into Harry over and over and Louis doesn't ever want to do anything with Harry other than fuck him every way he can.

It isn't too long before Harry's beginning to slow, before his breathing quickens and he bucks forward occasionally so his cock rubs against Louis' chest. Louis tilts his head up and kisses Harry as he strokes him in time to Harry's slow bouncing, and Harry bites his lip and moans as he spills on Louis' hand and belly.

The younger boy slumps forward, worn out and used and sensitive. "C'n you — pull out, Lou."

Louis does so quickly, laying Harry down on his back and stripping the condom off of his aching dick. To his surprise, however, Harry sits up, his eyes shut, and says, "Want you to come on my face."

And how could Louis say no to that? He stands up and takes Harry's curls in one hand and pumps himself slowly as a familiar warm feeling spread throughout his abdomen. He strokes faster and faster until hot, white ropes shoot out onto Harry's pretty face — over his cheekbones and eyelashes and lips and nose and some into his hair. It's disgustingly beautiful is what it is.

They both get into the shower without so much as a word, just little giggles and touches, and kiss until they're pruney and their legs are tired.

Louis tucks Harry into bed before he leaves and kisses his temple and lets his fingers be tugged on for five minutes while they smile dumbly at each other.

**

"Guys!" Niall shouts. "Lads! Zayn! Liam! They fucked!"

Harry hides his face in his hands and Louis widens his eyes as Niall leads them ahead to the Zayn and Liam grabbed outside of the deli. A few people give Louis and Harry strange looks, and some of them laugh and smile. (One girl rolls her eyes and hides her head in her hands as her supposed-boyfriend tugs on her sleeve and probably says something like why haven't we fucked yet?)

"Congrats?" Zayn questions, a smile present on his lips.

"When's the wedding?" Liam jokes. He pushes them each a sandwich and a bottle of water and they attempt to eat in silence, but Niall (the little freak) has endless questions to throw at them.

"Who topped? What position? Who came first? Did you use a condom? Whose bed? Did you call each other daddy and baby like Z and Liam do?"

(The last question makes Liam blush, makes Zayn look into his lap, and makes Louis jump unexpectedly, and he can feel Harry smile knowingly next to him and knows the conversation that will come up when they get back to his house afterwards.)

Harry sighs after he seems to realise Niall isn't going to stop unless they answer. "We'll answer one question," Harry says. "Choose wisely."

Niall shuts up for a silent five minutes, chewing and thinking and taking drinks out of his vodka-filled water bottle. He finally sets it down and leans forward in his seat. "Who tops?"

Harry groans and Louis smiles in a way that he hopes counts as a shit-eating grin. "Me," he says happily.

Three jaws drop. "Wait, seriously?" Liam asks.

"You all owe me a hundred pounds apiece," Zayn says. "Cough it up."

Niall begrudgingly hands him five twenties and Liam hands him a solid hundred.

"Did you bet on us?" Harry asks incredulously. Niall scoffs.

"This bet has been going since you were a wee little year eight," Niall says. "It built up money every year. Zayn was the only one who thought Louis would top."

"Glad to know someone has faith in me," Louis says, smiling. "You're getting a new bong for your birthday, you beautiful human." Zayn smiles and shakes his head.

19 and 17

Louis honestly never thought he'd give up his dream university to stay close and go to Manchester instead to stay close to his boyfriend. He also never thought he'd be on his way to getting his teaching degree, never thought he'd get to see his boyfriend everyday after classes and every spare moment Harry isn't in class, and he also never thought he'd get called daddy by a beautiful boy like Harry, but miracles do exist.

(It's a thing now — the box under the bed of dildos has become a box full of things other than dildos now.

"Okay," Harry had said when they got home from the deli, "daddy?"

Harry's laughing but Louis is blushing. "There's more."

He goes under his mattress and pulls out a wrinkled piece of looseleaf with a YES and a NO column, and he watches as Harry studies it.

"Golden showers are a yes? I wouldn't peg you as one of those," he says with a chuckle. He scans for a few more minutes and says, "I'm good with these, babe. Can we just move flogging into the YES column?")

"Y'know Liam wants to propose to Zayn?" Harry says one day, sitting in Louis' lap on Louis' uni bed with mugs of tea. "It's quite lovely."

Louis hums in agreement. "Don't get any ideas, curly."

Louis turns around and pouts into Louis' face. "Never?"

Louis scoffs. "Of course not never," he says. "Just — when we're settled and have jobs and money and time."

"And babies," Harry says. "Lots of babies."

Louis chuckles. Harry's latest obsession with babies has caused both his dorm and Harry's room to become littered with baby clothes and toys and books and magazines. "Yes," Louis says, "lots of babies. You'll be the prettiest pregnant boy around."

Harry rolls his eyes. "No, Zayn'll be the prettiest pregnant boy around."

Louis hums. His thumb runs over a bit of the lace panties that are peeking out of Harry's waistband. "But your panties are prettier than his, I betcha."

"Most boyfriends would try to convince the other that he's prettier than any other boy," Harry says, his eyes rolling again.

"Zayn is gorgeous, though babe," Louis counters. Harry pouts again and turns around completely in Louis' lap so he's straddling Louis' lap. Louis leans forward and kisses him deeply and smiles when he pulls back.

"Y'know," Harry says, draping his arms over Louis' shoulders, "we haven't had sex in like, twelve hours."

Louis scoffs. "You're literally the biggest slut," he says. "And I mean that with all the love in the world, really. But someone my age can't have his cock hard every six minutes."

"Your age," Harry chortles. "In two years am I gonna have to start myself on Viagra?"

Louis pinches Harry's nipple through his shirt and Harry yelps. "Stop talking about you not being able to get hard, daddy doesn't like that."

Not only does Harry's entire (entire) body go rigid at the name, but Louis' smirk lights up the room as he pats his bum and says, "C'mon love, we've gotta get to bed. It's late."

"It's only twelve!" Harry says. "And 'm hard now." He frowns and prays Louis will give.

"It's twelve and you have —"

"It's Friday, you shit," Harry interrupts. "Fuck me."

Louis groans. "I'm really not in the mood Haz," he says. Harry pouts and Louis kisses him again. "Lets watch Netflix, yeah? We'll start House like you wanted to."

They do. They watch two whole seasons until 8:30 on Saturday when Harry actually gets on his knees and begs to be fucked and, well, who is Louis to deny him that?

21 and 18

"Harry?" Louis calls from his mum's kitchen.

"In the sitting room!" Louis trudges through the Christmas wrapping paper on the floor and sits down next to Harry by the fireplace. He places his chin on Harry's shoulder. "I want a baby," Harry says.

Louis would normally be startled, would've been about two years ago, but at this point all Harry wants is a baby or two. "I know you do, H."

Harry grunts and turns so he's facing Louis and laces their fingers together. "No, like. I really want one. Lets go try for one, like, right now."

Louis holds in his laughter. "With my family in the house? Might I remind you how loud you are?"

Harry pouts and buries his face in the crook of Louis' neck. "Please?"

Louis sighs. "A baby is a lot of work, Harry. You're still in uni as well. You've got exams to worry about and jobs and money and not being pregnant."

Harry is still pouting into Louis' neck. "I can do it."

"I never said you couldn't," Louis says. "But maybe not right at this moment."

Harry hums into his neck and rubs his hands up Louis' back. "Never got to give you birthday sex."

Louis hums. "Very true."

So as it happens, Louis gets to watch footie while Harry blows, rims, and rides Louis into oblivion.

23 and 21

They buy a house together in Manchester just a block from Louis' school and twenty minutes from the university.

It's small — two bedrooms and two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a dining/sitting room — but it's theirs.

(They claim it by fucking in every room on every surface the first day they move in.)

**

Louis wakes up to Harry retching into the toilet and the very first thing he does is hold Harry's stupidly long hair back and absently tug it into a ponytail during the time being.

When Harry's done he slumps onto the bathroom floor and Louis flushes for him, cuddles him up in his arms and kisses his forehead. "Fourth time this week, babe."

Harry nods. "I don't think it's the flu."

"Have you been drinking behind my back?" Louis asks with a hint of sarcasm.

"You know I don't drink, you arse," Harry says. Louis smiles against his hair. Suddenly Harry tenses in his arms. "Shit," he says as he sits up and flings open the cabinet under the sink.

"What're you looking for?" Louis asks. Harry sits back on his heels and lets out a long breath and hands Louis a square box.

He wasn't aware they kept pregnancy tests under the sink. "No, Harry. It can't — we use protection —"

"My birthday," Harry says. "You were drunk and said we didn't need a condom because we didn't have one."

Louis' heart sinks (shit, a baby) and floats (a BABY) at the same time. He hands Harry the box. "Go on then."

It comes out positive and Louis cries happy tears, he's sure.

**

The coffee shop is nearly empty at this hour, but when Niall walks in everything, including the travel cups for sale, seem to perk up.

(For being a fifth wheel in their group, Niall is remarkably happy all the time).

Harry's already started getting weird cravings and can't stand the smell of English breakfast (to Louis' demise), so when Louis orders coffee for the table and a bagel with cream cheese, salsa and peanut butter, he certainly gets some strange looks.

"I was going for lemon tea, but I guess a coffee is good," Niall says. "So why're we here?"

Liam and Zayn nod in agreement, matching confusion in their eyes. Harry's hand squeezes Louis' under the table. "We have an announcement."

"The bastards are finally getting married!" Niall shouts. "Fuck yeah!"

Liam tweaks his nipple. "Hush up! Inside voice you twat."

"Well now we have an excuse to get married," Harry whispers into Louis' ear. "No, not yet," he says to the group.

"Harry's —" Louis' voice falters and tears well up in his eyes and thankfully Harry catches on.

"Pregnant," he says. "We're having a baby."

Louis is looking at Harry's amazing smile for so long his eyes hurt. His smile is so big, his dimples so deep.

Just before they get up to leave, Zayn says, "You both owe me a hundred pounds."

Louis and Harry groan as Niall and Liam lay the cash out on the table and Zayn smirks to himself.

**

Harry’s morning sickness ends about seven weeks into his pregnancy. His feet get swollen two weeks later and Louis starts morning foot rubs for his boyfriend.

Louis proposes officially twelve weeks into his pregnancy and of course Harry says yes.

“Louis,” Harry calls. Louis leans back and sees Harry in just one of his many pairs of lacy panties with a frown. “These are getting tight on me.”

“It’s because you’re pregnant, love,” Louis says, smiling. “It happens.”

“My jeans don’t even fit anymore and I don’t even have a bump yet,” Harry says, still frowning. “I want a bump.”

Louis resists the urge to coo and pats the empty area of the couch next to him. Harry comes and sits down next to him and tucks himself into Louis’ side. “You’ll get a bump if you’re patient. At least you aren’t throwing up though, yeah?”

Harry hums and nods.

Louis knows how excited Harry is about this baby. There’s baby everything everywhere, he’s signed up for breathing classes even though he isn’t going to need them for a C-section, he’s made a gift registry and a guest list for the baby shower he’s throwing himself that Louis isn’t invited to anyways.

(“Why am I not invited to this?” Louis asks, looking over Harry’s shoulder has his mum helps him make invitations.

“The boyfriends aren’t allowed to come,” he states simply.

“You didn’t say anything about a fiancé being invited,” Louis jokes. Harry kicks him and shoos him out of the room.”)

And although Harry’s becoming lethargic and his pecs are starting to swell by the sixteenth week, he’s still willing to fuck and it’s great.

They’re waiting in line at Starbucks when the baby kicks.

“Shit,” Harry whispers, his hand flying to his tummy.

Louis goes into pure panic mode and he immediately grabs Harry’s arm. “What’s wrong love? Did you feel pain? Like a sharp shooting —” Harry cuts him off by grabbing his hand and placing it on Harry’s belly.

“Feel,” Harry says excitedly. “She kicked.”

And Louis feels it. A little thud under his hand, so small he almost misses it. He beams and stands with his hand on Harry’s belly and kisses him with a smile. “That’s our little guy!”

“Girl,” Harry argues. “She feels like a girl.”

“Well we’ll know later today, won’t we?” Louis says, kissing his boyfriend again.

Six hours later they’re leaving the hospital with ultrasounds of their little boy and girl growing in Harry’s belly. “It’s an actual fucking miracle,” Harry says. Louis nods and holds Harry’s hand tightly.

“Twins,” Louis says, shaking his head in disbelief. “Twins.”

**

Harry gets unusually horny 30 weeks into his pregnancy. His belly is bulging, his cravings are finally subsiding as he prepares to give birth, and his dick is always hard. Louis loves it.

“Louis,” harry whines from the couch. “Can I ride you?”

Louis stops in his tracks. “You’re thirty weeks pregnant and can barely walk and you want to ride me?”

Harry nods and pouts and Louis rolls his eyes. “You can’t ride me but I will fuck you, how’s that?”

“Good, daddy,” he says. Louis jolts as he heads for the bedside table. Harry hasn’t called him that in ages, it’s been so long since they’ve had a scene, and if Harry wasn’t pregnant that’s exactly what they’d be doing.

“How’s about we play a little?” Louis asks. He reaches under the bed and pulls out the leather cuffs and Harry’s favorite cock ring and holds them up in front of Harry’s face. “Yes?”

Harry looks like he’s about to faint. “Yes please,” he whines again. Louis smiles and shakes his head and helps Harry out of his jogger bottoms.

The sex is never as heated as it used to be, what with Harry the size of sixteen watermelons and unable to move without getting dizzy. Tomorrow he’ll be checked into a hospital and will stay there until he goes into labour.

Harry holds his wrists out and Louis fastens the cuffs around them and then the cuffs together. “Too tight?” Harry shakes his head and moves his arms so they’re above his head and grabs hold of the head board.

Louis kisses him once and tosses the ring to the side and licks his palm. He takes Harry’s limp cock in his hand and gives him a few good tugs. Harry moans a little and bucks his hips up and Louis is just so happy he did this.

He maneuvers himself between Harry legs and lays down, taking his now-hard cock into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the tip. He bobs his head quickly and before he knows it, (it must be a pregnancy thing), Harry is coming down his throat in long ropes that he swallows almost greedily.

Louis pulls off and sits back on his haunches, aware of Harry breathing really heavily below him, aware of his cock straining in his joggers. It’s about Harry though, not him. “Do you still want me to fuck you? Or is that it for the day?”

Harry’s eyes are shut and he grunts and shifts. It takes a few seconds for Harry to respond, but he does so by moving his arms over his head and in front of Louis so he can uncuff him.

“Sorry,” Harry whispers. He looks devastated, which is sad.

“Don’t be sorry,” Louis says with a smile. “It isn’t your fault.”

Harry groans, but lifts his hips anyway so Louis can put his joggers back on. “I’m going to take a shower, okay H?”

Harry nods and blows him a kiss and Louis watches him fall asleep on the pillows.

Nearly half an hour later, after Louis pulls himself off in the shower and after he’s cuddled into bed with Harry, Harry seizes up and full on screams at the top of his lungs.

“Fucking shit,” he says, panting. Louis is up and alert and rubbing circles over Harry’s belly.

“What happened? Shit, babe, are you okay?”

Harry nods first and then shakes his head. “Contractions,” he says.

**

For the first time in a long time, Harry is squeezing Louis’ fingers too hard. It’s only for a few seconds during the C-section, but it hurts Louis’ hand and he couldn’t be more in love.

**

Remy Anne Tomlinson and James Edward Tomlinson are both born on October 14th at 7:37 PM. Lous has never been a happier man.

“I can’t believe you talked me into naming our child after a bisexual doctor on a TV show,” Louis scoffs, holding James close to his chest. Harry giggles.

“She’s the best though. Just be lucky I didn’t make you name her Thirteen,” Harry says.

They stay in the hospital for a short while, due to Harry’s early labor. James is still a little bit underdeveloped and the doctors just want to monitor him. Harry at first freaked out and blamed himself, but after a lot of talking to by Louis and doctors, he realised there’s nothing he could’ve done and he should be happy his babies are okay.

When they return home nearly a month later, they open the door and at least four million people are standing in their sitting room cheering. Niall, Zayn and Liam all come up and envelope them in hugs while their mums take the babies from them and settle into the nursery Zayn painted a while back. (Two walls are blue and two walls are pink, the carpet is a sandy color, and there are elephants of different colors marching around the walls.)

Nearly Louis’ entire faculty is there to congratulate them, and a few people from Harry’s bakery are there as well. It’s a really wonderful ordeal.

Louis could not be a happier man.

Later

They have two more girls (Skylar and Elizabeth) and one more boy (William) to add to their family after that. Louis goes back to school and gets a major degree in biology and teaches at the local middle school. Harry has a degree in history, but he’s content working at the bakery and owns the damn thing now.

Louis is sitting one day with their newest baby William in his lap, stroking through the tufts of blonde hair that are starting to grow in, when he remembers meeting Harry when he was little.

This little tiny boy, with blonde hair, running naked around his house, and he just thinks of how thankful he is that his mum ran out of sugar that morning. He ought to call her up and thank her for introducing him to his best friend.

They wed nearly six months after Remy and James are born at a nice place on the ocean on the beach, just how Harry once told Louis he wanted his wedding to be like.

Niall eventually somehow snags a hot model wife and they have two kids together, two boys, both named after Harry and Louis.

Zayn and Liam choose to adopt a little girl from China and name her Leah, and she’s already stealing hearts at the young age of ten.

Remy and James are now thirteen apiece, Skylar is seven, Elizabeth is four, and William is a mere seven months and his teeth are almost all grown in.

On the fourth of June, on William’s fifth birthday years later —

“I know, Will,” Louis says, watching him put on his shoes. “Daddy’s upstairs feeling ill and we need to go get sugar from across the street, okay? It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Why can’t you take Ellie,” Louis’ son whines.

Louis crouches down in front of his son and the utter familiarity of the situation hits him like a bus. He smiles. “Because you’re the lucky boy,” he says, widening his eyes for effect. His son does the same and his jaw drops as Louis goes on. “There’s a nice boy across the street and you’ll make such good friends with him, I promise. Your sisters and brother don’t get to do that, now do they?”

William shakes his head and yanks his father outside into the humid June air. They cross the street and Louis knocks on the door. Their neighbour Perrie answers and William darts inside and obviously spots a little boy sitting on the floor, and the rest is history.

Perrie assures that leaving William there to play is alright, and he walks back across the street and makes Harry his tea. He brings it upstairs and wakes Harry with a kiss to his head. “You’ll never guess what just happened.”

“You laid an egg?” Harry asks, sitting up and taking the tea from his husband. Louis pinches his arm.

“I had to take Will across the street for sugar,” he says. Harry furrows his eyebrows for a moment and then they widen.

“No way,” Harry says in disbelief.

“Way,” Louis says. He smiles down at Harry and Harry sets his tea aside and pulls him into a hug.

“Everything that is or was began with sugar, Harry says. Louis snorts.

“That quote was such a good quote until you ruined it,” Louis chuckles.

“Everything is good until I ruin it,” Harry says. Louis frowns for a fraction of a second before Harry’s rubbing his hands over their sheets. “Like these sheets.”

“You tosser,” Louis says, but Harry pulls him down on top of him anyways and kisses him into oblivion.