The Arrangement || Larry Stylinson || COMPLETED

An eventful shower

Harry sat on the couch in his study, Louis' feet in his lap, pressing against stomach, and his laptop resting balanced on his knees. The boy was asleep, the steady rise and fall of his chest, mixed with his soft snores, a comfort to Harry as he typed away on his computer. He was supposed to be in a meeting in London right now, discussing what actions they should take to ruin and overtrump a new budding drug company. Their cover was a restaurant, but in the back, where nobody but employees were allowed, there were crates of a new shipment of drug. It was a new strain, similar to the one Harry had helped create, but different. It was better. While mixing together the electric buzz of a high, it combined together with hallucinations (stronger than any other drug could create) and the same happy, touchy feely high ecstasy gave you, and it lasted for hours. If he didn't do something quick, the other half of his customer base they haven't already stole, would be gone by the week's end.

But, like the good husband he was trying to be, he promised Louis he would stay home with him today. Leslie had put him on bed rest earlier this week, and Louis was absolutely miserable. He complained there was nothing to do, so Harry gave him one more day before the twins arrived. It has been two weeks since everything that went down with his father. They'd been questioned, but not convicted. The grief the two projected was enough to convince anyone they weren't the killers. So the case went cold. The detectives claimed they were still on top of it, but Harry knew otherwise. Desmond Styles was a menace. Everybody was happy he was gone, even Anne Styles, though she would never admit it to a living soul.

"Harry," a small whine, followed by shuffling, had Harry looking up from his laptop and smiling lopsidedly at his sleep mussed boy. "Morning sleeping beauty," he mumbled, wanting to change sleeping beauty to 'shrek', but he was going for a much gentler approach. Louis has been way too sensitive about the way he looks.

Louis being on bedrest was not fun. The only time he got up was to pee. Or to go to from the couch to the bed. That was it. He hated it. He hadn't left the house in what felt like forever. He looked up at Harry and smiled, seeing his face when he woke up was the best thing. He rubbed his eyes and let out a yawn. His hair stood up in different directions, his eyes sleepy and his cheeks red from sleeping. "What are you doing?" He asked, seeing that Harry was on his laptop. He sat up slightly, holding his back. He really hoped this wouldn't last much longer. He didn't think he could take a little more than a month of this.

Harry shook his head and closed the laptop, the soft glaring light that once filled the room now gone, leaving them in a comfortable darkness. The thick curtains were drawn shut, per Harry's request, so Louis could sleep more comfortable. "Just some work stuff," he said, setting the laptop on the table in front of them before he turned a little, leaned down, and kissed Louis' soft button nose. "How are you feeling?" He asked, even though he had seen the way Louis winced as he sat up.

Harry knew this was hard on him, and not just because his entire body aches constantly as it stretched to accommodate two little human beings, but because of how large he was. His entire body was swelling the closer he got to his due date. His ankles, toes, feet, legs, etc. The only thing that stayed the same was his face, and it had this certain glow to it that constantly drew Harry in, making him stare at Louis until he was caught and could either lie, or just brush it off and ignore it by doing something else. He found the boy absolutely stunning, but his opinion was biased, or so Louis said.

Louis couldn't help but glare at him. How was he feeling? He could write a book thicker than the fucking dictionary about how he was feeling. How horrible it was to be pregnant. But obviously, he wasn't going to put Harry through that. "What do you think?" He whined, just from moving to sit up he was ready to break out into a sweat. "I'm bigger than a whale, I sweat more than a fat man running a marathon. And my gas is absolutely atrocious. I didn't know that that even was a thing." Louis huffed and looked at Harry. "You're probably annoyed with me complaining all the time."