old money || l.s mpreg

v.

TW: harassment, pro-lifers, neurotic projections
this chapters kind of sad

Harry was in the kitchen with his mother when he felt a rush of nausea. He ran to the bathroom, dropping onto his knees before throwing up all the contents from breakfast.  He kept his head in the toilet bowl when he was finished, hating the foul taste in his mouth. He got up slowly and tried to rinse his mouth to get the taste out. When it wouldn't go away he just gave up and washed his hands before returning back to the kitchen. 

"Would you like some apple juice?" Anne asked. Harry nodded and took a seat at the barstool, keeping his head down. "Have you been throwing up?" He shook his head. "This just started, then?" Harry nodded again. Anne passed him the cup of apple juice, which he accepted, thanking her quietly. "Do you feel anything else?" 

"No. Just a little headache." He mumbled. Anne hummed, rubbing his back. "I don't think you should come to la mezzanotte." She said honestly. Harry's eyes widened and he put the cup down. "But, mom! I haven't been there in so long-- a little nausea isn't going to stop me from having fun!" 

"Harry, I'm not trying to ruin your fun. But if you risk being sick you could countage everyone or worsen it." 

Harry huffed. "I don't feel contagious." Anne rolled her eyes at her sun, going back to the stove. "You can't feel if you are contagious or not."

"Of course you can! I'm doing it right now." He muttered before resting his chin on his arms with a pout. "Why do you want to go to this party so bad, anyways?" Harry shrugged, staring down at his juice. "I'm going to go home, since you know, I can't go to the party." 

"Oh don't be so dramatic!" Anne exclaimed. "I'm not." Harry said, getting up from his chair. "Bye, mamma." 

♔

Harry was fixing a pie for desert, sighing when he felt Clifford at his feet again. This entire week the puppy had been following him everywhere and cuddling up to him any chance he got. He had no idea what it was, but he was honestly getting sick of it. He already didn't like the dog, or dogs in general, and now the thing was all over him. The door opened which had Clifford barking loudly until he realized it was Louis. "Hi, big guy." Louis said, petting him. 

Harry shook his head to himself and placed the cake into the oven, going to the sink to wash his hands. "You're making pie?" Louis asked. Harry hummed.

 "You hate making pies. You say it makes you look like a housewife."

Harry rolled his eyes and went to sit down on the couch. "Maybe I just had a change of appetite." He grumbled. Louis chuckled and took a seat beside the younger man, Clifford in his lap. "Why have you been so cranky lately?" Harry glared at his boyfriend, grabbing the remote. "I have not been angry. Do not call me cranky again or I will stick this remote in your ear." 

"That just proves my point." Louis said with a laugh. Harry ignored the eldest, settling himself on the TV show that he doesn't even understand. "How was work?" Louis asked. Harry groaned, remembering how he left his Mom's because he couldn't go to that party. Fuck the party anyways. "I left cause I threw up." He mumbled. Louis' entire demeanor changed. "You threw up? Are you okay? Do you need--" 

"I'm fine, Louis." Harry answered blankly, but inside he was trying to hold in a laugh. "You never get sick." 

"I am not actually sick." He said. "I just threw up. That's literally it." Louis hummed and Clifford jumped onto his hind legs, trying to get Louis' attention. Louis laughed, scratching the dogs fur. "You've got me, Cliff." 

When Harry huffed, Louis rolled his eyes. "Now I have two babies who want my attention." He said sarcastically. Harry elbowed the man hard, "I am not a baby."