Harry hiccuped. He leaned back in the kitchen chair before sitting upright, his third glass of red Pinot Noir tucked safely between his hands. He blew hot air out his lips, the wine sitting nicely in his stomach and the air suddenly feeling a lot heavier and warmer. He felt like taking off his clothes and being in the nude.
It wasn't long before the door opened and closed, Harry looking over his shoulder to watch Louis come inside with Isabella. Harry hiccuped again and flipped the page of the magazine with wet fingertips.
"So I was at the drug store...and it dawns on me that women stare at a bloke carrying a baby like a bloke will stare at a woman with great boobs."
Louis walked farther inside with Isabella draped over one arm and grocery bags draped over his free arm. Harry gave a humorless snort as Louis kicked off his shoes carelessly and placed Isabella down in the playpen along with the grocery bags. Isabella laughed happily and pulled out a tin can, tapping on the surface with a plastic spoon and making it her own makeshift drum. Louis smiled at her fondly, looking up to see Harry half-sitting and half-falling off the chair, his curls knocked askew and his cheeks colored a bright pink.
"You know what I just realized today? I am never gonna take a great bath in this house. This is a shower house." Harry watched Louis watching him, his tousled bangs brushed off his forehead. "You never brush your hair, do you? It must save so much time. That's so handy."
Louis stared at the Pinot Noir set at the table, his brows furrowing together. Harry swirled the wine in the glass before taking a large gulp, his throat bobbing with a swallow.
"How's that wine treating you?" Louis asked sarcastically, resting his hands on his hips.
"Mm-hmm," Harry hummed with his mouth pressed to the rim of the wine glass, offering Louis an eager thumbs up.
"Mm-hmm," Louis mocked and raised his eyebrows for a short beat, his mouth pressing in a thin line.
Harry whipped his head around to face Louis, musing, "Did you want some?" and holding up the bottle of wine for emphasis.
Louis stepped two steps back only to undermine his point and step forward again.
"No, no, no."
"Because I can share. I'm a good sharer," Harry said happily, his glassy green eyes glistening in the dim room. "No, you don't need any because you never worry. That's what Zayn told me, you know, when he set us up," he spoke solemnly, Louis rolling his eyes with suggestive eyebrows.
"He said, "Babe, you just got your arse dumped by your boyfriend of three years. You need to go have a good time." And then ta-da! You show up. Your charming self shows up...."
Louis' face spread into a small smile at the memory. Harry rolled his eyes and placed his hand on his chin, his long ringed fingers pressing to his blotchy cheek.
"And you don't even wanna go to the restaurant. My first date in three years and it's a total arsehole at the door! And now I'm raising a kid with that arsehole! God, the irony."
This was news to Louis, his smile slipping off his face all too quickly. God, Harry's words were slurred, but they cut deeper than a fucking knife. It had Louis feeling like a massive twat. Could Harry have ever cared to mention that, maybe? Louis wasn't the type for grand romantic gestures like opening a car door for someone or hanging on to every word his boring date said just for the sake of getting laid, but he could have spun some shit up. For fuck's sake, he could have taken Harry out to eat and make him feel good about himself. Maybe even go as far as to compliment Harry's features or press a kiss to his cheek. Louis pushed the guilt to the back of his throat, swallowing around the vice-like tightness.
"Come on, off to bed." Louis tugged Harry up by the arm, Harry quickly taking a long sip of wine before letting himself get dragged away. "Up, up, up."
"You are, you know that, right? An arsehole?" Louis hummed, nodding meekly and still tugging Harry by the arm. "It feels so bloody good to say that to your face. Been saying it behind your back for years."
Louis huffed and started wrapping Harry into his arms and pulling him up the stairs. "A belligerent drunk. Great. That'll be a fun next 18 years," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he pulled Harry along with quick paces.
"Everybody thinks I'm a fun drunk," Harry murmured with a pout. The doorbell chimed along to Harry's slow, syrupy words. Louis let go of Harry's arm, both men turning around at the sudden sound. "Someone's at the door. Who is it?" Harry swayed slightly on the stairs, Louis running to get the door. "It's probably a neighbor."
The door opened with a creak, Louis' surprised face meeting a stranger's.
"Yes?"
A pretty girl with straight brown hair stood on the doorstep, her lips curving into a polite smile. "Hi, I'm Eleanor Calder." Silence ensued. "Your caseworker from social services." Eleanor extended her hand for Louis to take.
"Yeah," Louis groaned inwardly, shaking Eleanor's hand limply.
"You were told we'd be making a few unannounced visits," Eleanor continued to say just as Louis felt a warm body press up behind his back.
Louis felt Harry's lips press into his hair, the long waves of Harry's curls tickling Louis' neck. He let himself fall into Harry's embrace before he remembered the current situation at hand and mentally slapped himself out of it. He swung his arm blindly behind himself and smacked Harry against the chest.
Harry puttered out a whiny, "Ow," behind Louis' back, Eleanor offering Louis a peculiar look.
Louis definitely didn't need a caseworker to see Harry in this bloody drunken state. Why out of all days does Harry choose today to get drunk off his arse? God is laughing at him, if there was one at all. To be fair, Louis didn't think there was any deity considering how they got into this mess in the first place. God and Louis were not the best of friends right now.
"Um, yeah. Well, this is definitely unannounced."
Eleanor flicked her hand up in the air, the smile on her face poised as if to say, 'That's the whole point.'
"Just give me one minute," Louis said with a tight-lipped smile, mentally cursing his entire existence.
"May I come in?" Eleanor piped up with a little curtsy only to have Louis close the door abruptly. "No?" she squeaked out just before the door slammed shut in her face.
"Who is that?"
"Social services," Louis uttered in a frightened, high-pitched tone. He kept the whine from escaping his mouth and pointed a stiff finger to Harry, commanding orders instead. "Alright, you've got five minutes to shower, sober up and start acting like the responsible pain in the arse that you've been since we moved in. Now go."
"Okay," Harry said breathlessly, staring wide-eyed at Louis and making no indication to move.
Harry's eyes were glassy and his lips were sticky and unfairly red from the grape wine. Louis wanted to hit or touch Harry, he couldn't decide which. He cupped Harry's face until his cheeks were squished and his raspberry painted lips were pushed out, almost like he was making a kissy face. He tightened his fingers until he knew they left red marks on Harry's already blotchy cheeks and, still, he didn't let go. Harry was motionless, staring at Louis with bright eyes and dimpled cheeks. When Louis finally did let go, he ignored the blush crawling up his own cheeks.
"Go, go, go."
Louis pushed Harry by the shoulders and shoved him in the direction of the stairs.
"Ah!" Harry groaned in protest, swaying his hips as he walked.
Harry twisted his body away in an ungraceful manner, his hips popping with every step he took. Fuck, maybe he was right. Maybe he was a fun drunk after all. Louis would have to test that theory out later. For now, he raised his eyes from Harry's arse only to find Harry was speed-walking to the end of the hall rather than up the stairs.
"Upstair—Upstairs." Louis' words left his mouth in a hurry, Louis pointing his finger frantically to show Harry where the stairs were located. His voice softened to say, "Your room is up here, remember?"
"I'm sorry," Harry giggled, actually fucking giggled, and continued to move his hips sinfully as he trotted up the steps.
"Go, go, go," Louis urged desperately, Harry clamping a hand over his mouth to tamp down his giggles.
Louis looked over his shoulder worriedly to see Eleanor's blurry silhouette through the tinted glass.
"I'm going," Harry mumbled, his words bubbly.
Harry tripped on his own two left feet and almost toppled over, sucking in a sharp breath in an accusing tone. It's about time the kid fell over from his long giraffe legs.
"Stop pushing me! Don't push."
"Just—I didn't..." Louis threw his hands up in the air in defeat, his expression borderline disbelief.
Louis looked over his shoulder again and saw that Eleanor was waiting on the other side of the closed door and probably counting down the minutes on her watch. They hadn't started the interview yet and they already had a bad first impression. Just their luck. So Louis pulled out one of his best secretive moves that he only used in desperate times of need. He had a way of distracting people in order to get what he wanted. In this case, he needed to distract Eleanor so she wouldn't notice Harry's absence and to give Harry enough time to sober up and pull off this interview together.
Louis pulled open the front door and let the show begin.
Half an hour later, Louis asked Eleanor, "You sure you don't wanna see the garage again?" for the second time that night.
"Nope. Twice is my limit."
They walked into the living room, Louis gesticulating frantically with his hands as he spoke.
"I have a whole area of tools you didn't even get a chance to see."
"I'm good." Eleanor flicked her hand in a dismissive manner, looking at her watch and smiling tightly. "I'm usually wrapping up by now and..."
Harry trotted down the stairs, the front of his hair slicked back with tufts of wet curls tucked behind his ears. He still sported a fresh blush on his cheeks, his lips painted a cherry red from all the wine he consumed earlier.
"Hello, I'm so sorry. I had to get the little one down."
As if on cue, Louis and Eleanor looked behind themselves to see Isabella bouncing in her playpen, gurgling happily to herself.
"Oh, and you can see why. Take your eyes off her for one minute and zoom! You know? Just "tee-tee-tee-tee-tee" on her little legs," Harry giggled abruptly, motioning with his hands as he talked.
Louis rolled his eyes internally, praying that the rest of the night would go by quickly.
"Okay, well. Let's get started then."
With a notepad sprawled on her lap and a pen poised in her hand, Eleanor had all the mundane professionalism a caseworker should obtain. Still, Harry's outburst of spontaneity didn't stop Eleanor from raising her perfectly arched brows in question. Louis didn't blame Eleanor's suspicious interest.
"Okay, so let's just talk. You know, I just wanna get a sense of the both of you and your plans. Where do you see yourselves in five years?"
Harry raised up his hand eagerly as a one-year university student would.
"Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! Ask me. I know. Great answer."
Louis tapped Harry's wrist lightly. "You don't—"
Harry smiled cheekily and patted Louis' thigh in return, Louis licking his lips and biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood.
"No, I'm good, I'm good. I own a small gourmet-food store soon to be a small gourmet restaurant. We're expanding. New flooring, I'm thinking hexagonal tile," Harry chatted excitedly.
"New flooring. That's part of everyone's five-year plans. Flooring, right?" Louis said in a sarcastic tone.
"Anyway, I'm also hoping someday to have my own frozen-food line. Organic. But that's the 10-year plan. You asked about the five-year. Oh, God, I didn't include Isabella!"
"You didn't," Louis affirmed in a scold.
Louis wrung his hands tersely, wanting desperately to clamp Harry's mouth shut to stop his constant blabbering. Eleanor was caught off guard by the whole situation, not knowing if she should keep track of whatever spilled from Harry's mouth or keep a curious eye on Louis' fidgety movements. They were both off their parenting game, honestly.
"Let me just take it back. She is a big part of my plan."
"That's fine. Thank you," Eleanor interrupted, her smile too tight for Louis' liking.
"Okay," Harry sighed sadly, deflating a little.
"Louis."
Louis looked away worriedly from Harry's solemn face. He clapped his hands, his fake smile stretching tightly across his cheeks like a taut bowstring.
"Yup, Louis' good. Louis will be fine."
"Okay, Louis."
"Well, I'm the technical director of the London Lions broadcasts."
"Okay," Eleanor prompted Louis to go on. "So what does the technical director do?"
"Well, when the director says, "Ready, go Camera 1," I'm the lad that—I push the button that goes Camera 1." Louis lamely showed with his hand the motion of somebody pressing an imaginary button, Harry mouthing the words, "He pushes the button."
"And I guess in a couple years...when the boss gets kicked upstairs or gets pinched with a rent boy...I'll get my shot in the director's chair."
Louis laughed awkwardly then, Eleanor staring at him confusedly while Harry sat beside him motionless.
"Okay...so Andy tells me that you're both single...and presently not engaged in a relationship." A pregnant pause. "Not sleeping together?"
"God, no!"
"Okay, good."
"Oh my God, no!"
"No, no, no!"
"Not a chance!"
"Okay, that's great, because this situation...two single people living under the same roof....raising a recently orphaned child, well, it's complicated enough...without the added complication of, you know, that."
"Oh, trust me, Eleanor, we will not be complicating anything with that. Yeah, I get plenty of that elsewhere," Louis said with a wicked grin and a flirtatious wink in Eleanor's direction.
Harry didn't miss how Eleanor slightly blushed from Louis' intense gaze and lifting, teasing eyebrows. He cleared his throat loudly.
"I get plenty of that in my day as well," Harry whispered petulantly.
"Way back in the day," Louis said with a snort.
They bickered back and forth, Louis pinching Harry's thigh as a last minute resort to annoy him.
"Listen," Eleanor interrupted them with a raised hand. Louis and Harry quieted. "You two both seem like two sweet doe-eyed people...about to have the worst year of your lives. I'll be honest with you. Wanna make jokes about rent boys? Go for it, I don't care."
Louis shuffled in his seat uneasily, scrunching his lips to the side.
"You have no idea the types of families that I deal with. Rent boys? They're my good cases. The only obstacle here is you two...and whether or not you're both cut out to be parents. What we want to avoid is Isabella losing more people that she's close to," Eleanor said with a long pause, the air around Louis and Harry suddenly feeling heavy with the anticipation of her next carefully chosen words. It felt like a big moment in a movie. But this wasn't a movie, it was their depressing and satirical life. "You know, your friends thought you could do this, but I'll be honest...I'm not so sure."
Eleanor's frank words stumped Louis and Harry into silence. The kind of silence that made them question the kind of parents they were. In all sincerity, they both had enough doubts if they were cut out to be the right guardians for Isabella. Sometimes the gnawing feeling biting at their skin would encourage Louis to get up from the couch and crawl into Harry's bed.
The first night had been strange. Harry had felt the bed dip beneath him and a warm body pressed close behind him. When Louis nuzzled his nose into the nape of Harry's neck and inhaled, one hand wrapping tentatively around Harry's waist and a whispered, "This okay?" Harry let him. The morning after wasn't stiff or awkward, it was simply Harry getting up early and bringing Louis breakfast in bed. If Louis continued to sneak into Harry's room and if Harry slept better with someone tucked behind himself, then that was that. No questions asked.
Soon after Eleanor left, the sound of Isabella's wails carried through the thin walls. As always, Harry rushed over to soothe Isabella in his arms while Louis trailed behind not knowing what to do. No matter which way Harry coaxed her, Isabella seemed to fuss louder and kick her feet against his chest meanly.
"How can I be hungover if I haven't even gone to sleep?" Harry bemoaned.
"All we have to do is put her down. Just, you just—" Louis ran a hand through his soft, messy hair. He was dressed in rumpled clothes, looking soft in grey sweatpants and disheveled hair. All energy from the unforeseen interview had him loose and pliant but mostly just tired. "Gotta put her—"
"She's not warm. She doesn't even have a fever, she's just overtired."
"What time s'it?"
"It's okay, Bella, c'mon, honey. I don't know, maybe you should start wearing a watch, Tommo."
"Look, there's somebody we gotta call, alright?"
Hopeless minutes passed by until Louis and Harry gave up and called Isabella's babysitter Mathew. They had no other options, really. The only possibility was calling The Baby Whisperer himself even if it was 10 o'clock at night.
They stood by the front entrance in anticipation, itching to open the door when the doorbell's chime would announce Mathew's arrival. As soon as it came, Harry flung open the door to reveal Mathew still dressed in his pajamas, his hair tossed to the left and framing his pillow creased face. Harry almost felt bad for calling Mathew over so late. Almost.
"Hey. Thank you for coming over."
"It's okay."
"Um. Sorry about your dad." Louis cracked a poor attempt at a grin. "He's a pretty scary bloke, huh?"
Harry shuddered at the thought, remembering how Louis had lost their game of rock, paper, scissors and had to make the dreaded phone call.
Louis had pressed the phone to his ear, gnawing on his bottom lip anxiously when he was on the receiving end of Mathew's dad yelling, "This is unacceptable. Do you know how late it is?" Mathew's scary dad ultimately gave in because Louis had almost begged.
Harry had hidden his smirk in his hand, Louis giving him the bird while he softly muttered, "Yes, sir. I understand. I'm so sorry again. Thank you so much. It won't happen again."
Isabella's bawling brought Harry back into reality. Harry sighed, cradling Isabella while she cried harder with tear tracks staining her cheeks. Isabella reached out her arms to Mathew, who took her in his arms and walked into the kitchen.
"Come here, Bella."
Harry clapped his hands excitedly, following Mathew into the warm kitchen to see him work his baby magic. What he didn't expect was Mathew turning the oven fan on and holding Isabella underneath it.
"I don't know why, but this fan always helps. Beats having to take her for a ride, huh?"
Mathew hugged Isabella tighter to his chest, a pleased smirk evident on his face.
"Yeah."
Louis stared at Mathew with his mouth hanging open, disbelief clearly shown in his features. Harry sighed in relief, glad that his baby girl was no longer puncturing his sensitive ear drums.
"Anyway. Big maths test tomorrow so..."
As they walked Mathew back to the front door, Harry patted Louis on the chest and signaled him the universal motion of spending money by rubbing his fingertips together.
"Where's the money?" Harry tacked on for good measure.
Louis shoved his hand into the pocket of his sweatpants to retrieve some crumpled bills and presented them to Mathew.
"Mathew. Mathew!"
"It's okay," Mathew hesitated. "I don't take it anymore."
Louis nodded, folding the bills when Harry slapped him on the shoulder, urging him to give it to Mathew anyways.
"Give him the money."
"C'mon, go ahead," Louis pressed, closing Mathew's hand over the wrinkled pounds. "I insist."
Harry offered Mathew a thumbs up. "Thank you so much. Good luck on your maths test."
"Okay. Good bye," Louis said with a soft smile.
They waved at Mathew one last time, closing the door after him and leaning against the doorframe in utter exhaustion.
"Thank God."
Peaceful silence filled the room until it was broken like sharp shards of broken glass from Isabella's cries ripping through the air.
"Oh, no."
"No...no, no, no, no."
Harry groaned while Louis was close to tears. Louis scrubbed one hand down his tired face and palmed his other hand on his thighs. He hauled himself upright and carried Isabella in one swift movement. He padded over to the kitchen and turned the oven fan on, Harry following closely behind like a lost puppy. He lifted Isabella up higher in the air underneath the oven fan, her wails louder than the whirring noise the fan was emitting.
"It's too close, Tommo! Put her down, you're gonna chop her head off!"
"That's what The Baby Whisperer was doing!"
"No, he wasn't! He was doing it down here," Harry yelled frantically, trying to mimic how Mathew had held Isabella and showing Louis to do the same.
Ten minutes later, they carried Isabella to the Honda. Louis chose to drive while Harry seated himself in the backseat with Isabella. Harry buckled a still crying Isabella in the car seat, Louis' grip on the steering wheel tightening as he reversed from the driveway and onto the road.
"We're gonna go for a drive."
"Just nice and slow, Bella," Louis announced.
"We're just gonna go for a ride around the block," Harry cooed.
"We'll be back in time for the game, huh?"
The sun was peeking over the orange horizon when everything finally settled like a warm fleece blanket. The Honda slowly pulled to a halt in the driveway, exhausted hands shifting the gear shift from drive to park. Louis looked in the rearview mirror to find Isabella drinking her bottled milk quietly, Harry snoring softly with his whole weight pressed against her car seat.
Louis snuffled a tired sigh and composed himself. He wanted to belt out his frustrations, but he knew that would only upset Isabella again. He swallowed down his blood-curling screams and forced himself to take a deep breath.
It's only a hitch on the road, no need to be a whiny bitch about it. He's stronger than this.
Louis got out of the Honda and slammed the car door shut. He could care less whether he woke Harry up or not. Just to make sure, he rapped his knuckles on the glass loudly and walked away feeling a little more satisfied with himself. Inside, Harry woke up startled and adjusted his eyes to the bright light.
Harry looked around himself, watching a figure walking to the front entrance of the house and disappearing inside. He sighed and tugged on the ends of his curls tightly, glancing sideways to see Isabella slurping on her milk bottle contently. For some reason, Isabella reminded him distinctively of Louis. Smug smile, curious eyes, soft cheeks and even softer hands. The only difference was that Isabella had brown eyes while Louis had blue. Big beautiful blue as open as the ocean.
Harry shook his head, repressing the chill that left goosebumps crawling over his skin. Fuck. What is wrong with him? He suppressed the bitter feeling nipping at his skin and unclasped the seatbelt contraction off Isabella.
With calming breaths, Harry lifted Isabella out of the Honda and dragged his feet across the pavement, walking inside the house and closing the door behind himself. He heaved a deep sigh and walked upstairs, slipping into the bedroom that he occasionally shared with Louis; nights or mornings like these when they were too tired to set up blankets and pillows on the sofa downstairs and slept together on the same bed even when they obviously shared the same hatred for each other.
Harry placed a now sleeping Isabella inside her crib and folded a blanket over her, heading to the bed where Louis was sprawled on the rumpled duvet. He smiled softly and started to undress Louis from his shoes, his socks and his shirt. Too tired to brush his teeth, he climbed into bed and settled for awful breath in the morning.
Harry rubbed Louis' back the way Louis liked so much, his fingertips stroking over warm, soft skin. He pressed a feverish kiss to Louis' shoulder, his lips burning where they left a mark and his tongue darting out to lick at the shimmering golden skin.
Harry nuzzled his face into the deepest curve of Louis' neck. Louis turned to lie on his back and faced the other way. Harry breathed Louis in, Louis' skin smelling like stale cigarette smoke and expensive, faded cologne. God, he smells so fucking good.
Without overthinking it too much, Harry nipped at Louis' skin, his sharp teeth indenting the exposed flesh. Louis tasted like salted caramel. Yummy. Harry sucked on Louis' soft skin, Louis whispering a quiet moan. He continued to taste him, relishing in the moans that escaped Louis' mouth unwillingly. Harry pressed a hand to Louis' hip, steadying him where he felt himself go dizzy, dizzy, dizzy with lust. Louis moaned loudly then, promptly stopping Harry from sucking any further. He shifted on the bed until he faced Harry, his skin burning hotly.
"Don't stop," Louis murmured, staring intently at him from underneath lidded eyes, Harry feeling like he was burning up.
"If I continue, I'm not sure I'll be able to stop," Harry whispered in the dark, his eyes prickling with tears.
Harry thrusted his hips weakly against Louis' thighs, feeling himself hardening already. Fuck. Fuck Louis and his tight body. With his smart mouth and strong legs and plump, perfect arse. Especially when it made Harry question his own goddamn confusing feelings.
More often than not, Harry would spill hot and white into his cupped hand, pretending Louis' name wasn't a constant staccato inside his lust-filled brain. Harry convinced himself it was only sexual frustration, that Louis was around all the time so it provided him a vision to have at the back of his eyelids, burning when he would close a fist around his leaking cock. He convinced himself it was only physical attraction, that it didn't burn further than that because he couldn't. Because Louis was a player, all smooth pickup lines and nothing more.
If Harry didn't stop now, he'd inevitably get his heart broken.
Louis whined in protest when Harry stopped sucking a bruise to his neck. He smacked his hand on Harry's face and muffled a frustrated moan. Harry smiled sweetly at Louis, wrapping an arm around Louis' waist. This—This was okay. Harry could hug him and hold him if there was no prepice on whatever came next. He could hold onto platonic bro-pal-laddy-lad-mate friendship. He tightened his arms around Louis' lithe body as if Louis was going to disappear from his embrace and he was going to lose his boy forever.
No, Harry thought. Maybe it won't be so bad if I get my heart broken by Louis.
Besides, they hated each other. In no world would Louis and Harry ever get together. The thought itself was simply ridiculous.
But as Harry felt his eyelids droopy with sleep and his arms curled tighter around Louis' frame, he briefly wondered when the hatred he once felt for this man was now being replaced by a sudden surge of overwhelming affection.