fire and the flood - l.s. mpreg

one

It's nine o'clock, five hours since Harry's gotten home from work, and this is the worst it's ever been.

And, they're not even fighting. This isn't like the argument they had last night because Harry forgot to put gas in the car, which ended in Harry crying and Louis apologising profusely for snapping at him. It was a long day, he had said. He's tired. He didn't mean it, baby, he's sorry. That was terrible. This is worse.

He's sitting across from Louis at the table, who eats his cold dinner that was made about two and a half hours ago. He's still in his clothes that he changed into at the station, hair falling in his face as he eats. Harry sits, and waits.

"They asked me if I want to switch to a 48/96 schedule today," Louis mentions, his words a mumble into his bowl of pasta. Forty-eight hours at the station, ninety-six at home, rather than the 24/48 schedule he has now.

"Do you?" Harry asks quietly, empty bowl in front of him.

"'M asking you, you're the one always griping that I'm there too much," Louis snaps, and then immediately recoils, shoulders slumping. "Sorry, shit. I'm sorry. Long day."

They're all long days. It's lost it's meaning by now. Harry looks down at his lap, twists his wedding ring around his finger. "I don't know," He says after a moment. "Do whatever you want."

Louis doesn't say anything, pushing his hair out of his face. "Four days off sounds nice," He comments quietly. It wouldn't really be four days off, though. His pager goes off so often. Harry nods. "Don't you have Monday off?"

"Mhm," Harry says.

"Me too," Louis replies, as if Harry doesn't count the days off in his head. "We could do something. If you want."

Hope fills Harry's chest for a brief moment. Maybe this is him making up for it. "I'd love to," He says quickly, not missing the small smile on Louis' face.

"I'll try to catch up on all my sleep on Sunday," He says. Harry nods, eager. "How was work today?"

"Good," Harry says, his voice a trained soft-tone. "The kids sang to me, and gave me a bunch of cards 'n stuff."

"Sounds like a normal day of nursery school to me," Louis nods. Harry's heart sinks. He seriously forgot. The small smile on his face fades, and he looks back down at his empty bowl, holding the fork like there's more to eat.

"Yeah," He says after a moment. "Just a normal day."

Louis finishes his dinner, and stands up out of his chair. "This was really good, darlin'," He says, walking over to the sink to rinse it. "Thank you."

Harry doesn't say anything. Louis turns on the faucet, scraping bits of vegetables and sauce into the sink, and Harry watches him. He looks at him and wonders when he aged so much, when he went from the boy he used to share a twin bed with in uni to the man in front of him.

"Lou?" Harry asks, still making no move to stand up.

"Yeah?"

"D'you know what day it is?"

Louis furrows his eyebrows, opening the dishwasher. "Friday."

"That's clean," Harry warns before Louis can put his bowl into it. Louis puts his bowl back down in the sink, immediately going to unload it. He's so good. That almost makes this worse. "No, like. The calendar date."

"Um," He opens the silverware drawer, dropping some forks into it. "Oh. February 1st. Is it February already? That's crazy."

It's a beat longer before Harry watches his face fall in realisation. His hands are now empty, and he uses them to cover his face, muttering "fuck".

He really did forget. This wasn't a coverup for some surprise. He didn't even try to play it off, he just forgot. Louis' hands move to his hair, tugging at it. "Haz. Baby. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Harry says, but he can't force his voice above a whisper.

"No, it's not," Louis shakes his head. "It's terrible. I'm sorry. It's just been such-"

"A long day," Harry finishes, keeping his eyes on the empty bowl in front of him. "I know. They all are."

Louis sighs, putting his hands on his hips. "I wish I could be better," He says after a moment, somber and genuine and sad under the yellow light of the kitchen. It forces Harry to look at him. "I know I haven't been trying my best, and 's...not what you deserve."

It tugs at Harry's heartstrings, the guilt in his words. "Thank you," Harry says softly.

"I'll make it up to you," He assures. "Monday. We can do whatever you want. Celebrate twenty-seven and three days."

Harry can't help but laugh a little, shaking his head. Louis walks over to him, taking his face in his hands and leaning down to kiss him. "Happy birthday, babe," He mumbles. "Gettin' prettier every year."

Harry let's out a real laugh as Louis squishes his cheeks. "Shut up," He giggles. Louis just grins, eyes sparkling as he kisses him again, and Harry melts into his touch.

Just as Harry's finally settled for the night, forgiven Louis and moved on, his pager goes off in his back pocket. The dreaded sound sends a pit to Harry's stomach. Louis sighs, muttering a curse word.

"'M sorry," He mumbles, turning it off and pulling out his phone. His shoulders slump. "Huge house fire in Hull."

"'S alright," Harry shrugs, trying not to show how disappointed he is. Louis leans down and kisses him again.

"I'll wake you up later so you'll know I'm home," He assures, tucking a curl behind Harry's ear. "You're the best, pet. 'M so lucky to have someone so understanding."

Harry smiles, a puddle under Louis' praise. "Be safe," He says. Louis gives him a smile, rushing to get his shoes on. He can't help but feel a little selfish for sometimes wishing Louis wouldn't go. There are people who need saving, and he's the most selfless person Harry knows for doing what he does, but he misses his husband.

"Love you, Haz," Louis says quickly, coming back to him for one more kiss before heading towards the door.

"Love you, be safe!" He calls back. The door shuts, and Harry sighs, pushing his empty bowl back so he can rest his head on the table, squeezing his eyes shut to hold back the tears filling his eyes.