butterfingers (l.s mpreg)

four, week 11

Harry had learned many things in the next few days.

One, the fact that the impulse to drink apple juice every fifteen minutes was not abnormal. It was simply a craving he had become accustomed to, especially when Louis had to start buying it two days after they last had dinner together.

Only three had gone by, but Louis had made it abundantly clear that he wanted Harry near him as much as possible. Harry didn't mind. Louis wanted his baby in his life, very very much. He knew this the second Harry told him, but it was masked by the bile rising in his throat.

He was going to be sure to be there for late night cravings and contractions. He even suggested Harry move in, which Harry refused immediately. He knew he wanted to, that's why he had to say no. Harry with Louis around all the time would drive him crazy. He was willing to keep trying.

But another thing Harry had learned was that he really did need to tell his mom. He had completely forgotten. This made him feel awful, and this was evident to Louis when he began to cry as his phone rang and her name popped up on the top of his iPhone.

This was yesterday night, when Harry made Louis dinner at Harry's place after feeling bad that Louis had bought him dinner two days before.

And so the next morning, at the moment, Harry was laying on his couch trying to keep himself from putting down his home phone. He had been calling Louis every fifteen minutes at work. He knew even though Louis said he didn't mind, he obviously did. He knew Louis had lots of time on his hands and that he was making money by the minute, but he wouldn't ever bother him for his own benefit.

He finally got the courage to dial his moms number, speed dial 1. She picked up on two rings. She hadn't talked to him in two weeks or so, and she was really missing him back home. Home was back in Vermont, where it was chillier and not so busy all the time.

"Sweetheart! I'm so happy you called. I've been worrying about you. How do you feel?" She sounds so happy on the phone, and then he's sick. He feels sick.

"I'm feeling a lot better actually, taking some pills for my nausea." He doesn't mention the fact that the pills are prenatal vitamins.

"That's good. Any reason you called me?" He freezes up.

"Well, yeah. I-" he can't come up with anything, not quick enough. "I've got a boyfriend." He winces, moving the phone away from his cheek to mutter and "oh crap."

"That's great! About time. I hope it's the pretty boy you've been gushing about since April. Considering its nearly July I'd hope you've seduced him." She giggles.

And Harry flushed deep red, rubbing his tummy instinctively and smiling into the speaker.

But then his eyes widen, and he coughs a bit.

"Yeah. Him, Louis. We're uh- we're um- we're expecting." He coughs again, finally sitting up on his couch and feeling sick again.

His navy blue t shirt is growing a bit small despite the fact he doesn't really have a tummy. He still really wants one, though. He wants people to know he's got a little baby in there he's going to love with everything he's got.

"My baby's gonna have a baby? How did this happen? How dare you tell me this on the phone! This is great news! My baby in a relationship and having a baby! I'm coming out to visit you. I'll be there in a week, love. How exciting!" She's loud and hangs up just after she heaves a heavy breath.

Here? Harry gulps. Crap, he thinks, crap crap crap crap. Crap.

He stands up and he's pacing and checking his calendar and calling and dialing Louis over and over very irritatingly.

"SOS Louis, very very very SOS. Once you're done at work my place ASAP! Don't get killed I need you." Harry's heaving and rushing to fix himself a plate of cookies and pickles.

He begins to pace with his cookies back and forth in his apartment, watching the episode of Friends where Monica and Chandler get together to calm himself down before he starts to breathe into a bag.

Louis is going to think he's crazy for telling his mom that they're together. Louis is rushing to Harry's at the moment, after having finished work and updating his fans about Harry and his dilemmas.

They're going to eat this up.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," Harry is mumbling in a criss cross position on his rug, shaking his head watching reruns.

"H! What the hell, Harry? What happened? Are you alright? Is the baby okay?" Louis shakes him off the ground (but not before eying the way his t shirt lifts a little, showing the little stretch marks on his sides that he absolutely loves.)

"I told my mom?" He said blankly.

Louis breaths, holding Harry as he fell into him.

"That's great." He rubs his back.

"It isn't though. Lou I told her we were a couple. Maybe." He winces a little, pouting at Louis who simply laughs.

"That sounds fun." He giggles.

"But she um, she's coming here." He says regretfully with a grimace on his face. Louis finally looks tense.

"Oh. That's um, interesting." He chuckles a bit before helping Harry to sit next to him on the couch.

"Next week." He grimaces again, sighing and leaning back with his head on Louis' lap so he could run his hands through his hair like when he felt sick on some mornings.

And it hit both of them, they were practically a couple, so how hard could it be?

"Y'know, this won't be that difficult. To pretend I mean. Unless you want to tell her-" Louis smiles down at Harry.

"No. She'll murder me if she finds out I got knocked up. Well not really but I mean- a baby? How do I explain myself? A first grade teacher with a nice ol' bun in the oven." Harry smiles a bit as his shoulders sink, when Louis stares at him fondly, and Louis just nods.

It seems odd, but to them it's another every day thing that happens to the two.

Louis isn't sure what he anticipated when he found out he knocked up the pretty boy from the bar he liked to hang out at when he was feeling lonely. Maybe child support, having the little munchkin on the weekends.

And then here he was, pretending to be romantically involved with a lovely green eyed boy who liked to sneak into his bed and show up at his house unexpectedly to dance around and eat dinner.

And whom he had a crazy crush on and would really like to kiss, but that was a lot more of a secret.

"You could go home if you'd like." Harry said, sitting up and fixing his shirt so that his midriff wasn't hanging out (even though that's how he usually wore it when he was alone.)

"It's alright, I ran here from work and don't really have the energy to race all the way home." This makes Harry's heart flutter and his chest hurt a bit. God he was so whipped.