Now that Harry and Louis shared a place, it was becoming a lot harder for them to resist one another.
Harry knew he would maybe have the self control to leave once the baby was born and maybe his heart wouldn't race every time he saw Louis, hell, even heard him or smelled him (his scent quite resembled spearmint and crisply printed book paper, something that suited him quite perfectly.)
Harry figured he smelled like bread and laundry detergent. Louis had told him this once before, and he thinks of it often.
Harry was so new at having a roommate, he didn't even have one in school. He quite enjoyed the domestic aspect of it. He loved doing Louis' laundry, admiring his white t shirts for under his work shirts and band t shirts that he knew Louis loved to lounge in on Sunday's when they would watch The Wedding Singer and dance around to the soundtrack while Louis cooked dinner.
Louis, on the other hand, and was quite used to living with another person. In college, he roomed with a boy named Niall, a culinary arts major at The University of Chicago. Both were soccer players for the school, causing them to be great friends. They even lived together in Louis' apartment for a while after school, before Niall moved in with his girlfriend.
Niall was actually the one who taught Louis how to cook.
The large penthouse had its own laundry room, which Harry currently idled in.
"H!" Louis called, roaming around with mail in his hand searching for the pregnant boy. His hair was messy from the past nights sleep.
He slept much better when Harry was in his bed (but he was positive it didn't mean anything, it was just more comfortable.)
The serene night sleep was one of many positives of living with Harry.
Louis' favorite was the singing.
The most popular for Harry was John Mayer, sometimes a little Matt Nathanson or even Ray Charles and Jack Johnson. There were several, but Harry was one to pick favorites.
And quite frankly, Louis hadn't been that fond of John Mayer, ever, actually, not until he saw Harry dance to Gravity with a pile of Louis' laundry in his arms in a pair of tight shorts and his favorite white t shirt. He'd smile through the chords, giggling as he took the gallon of milk from the fridge and occasionally the Hershey's chocolate syrup for a glass of chocolate milk.
Louis especially loved when Harry would sing, not to any background music like usual, but when they watched Fever Pitch or Pretty in Pink and Harry knew the songs coming next.
Sometimes, when Louis would play with Harry's hair to help him to sleep, or when Harry was laying on the couch on his phone, cuddling calmly with Mark, he would sing also. He'd sing the bridge to himself, twisting his ring and rubbing Marky's tummy.
As Louis climbed up the steps to the laundry room, Harry peeked his head out of the archway, smiling sweetly.
"Yes, Lou?" Harry asked.
Once again Harry couldn't help but swoon at the sight of Louis in his work casual attire, his new gray pair of slacks and black shirt. The waning August heat was still pretty overbearing, but it wasn't so bad to Louis.
"Just letting you know that I'm headed to work." Louis tapped on the doorframe on his way out and smiled crookedly, eyeing Harry, who happily slaved over the washer (he gets quite bored every summer, leaving him doing things like grocery shopping and cleaning.)
"Oh! And I fed Mark, so you don't have to." Louis remarked before he could forget.
"Okay! See you! Write about me!" Harry called as Louis walked away. Louis' heart skipped a beat at the thought of writing a column today.
He'd never had such an amazing career jump, not before he met and began to write about Harry and his antics.
"Ah, Louis, you better keep this up, our sales are going through the roof!" His boss, (Tim, respectively,) would say.
"You can count on me, Tim." Louis would chuckle as he passed the office, securely holding his briefcase at his hip. He surely did appreciate the praise from his aging superior, especially considering the raises he's been giving him over the past few months.
Louis wasn't greedy, he wasn't, it just felt so nice to be able to give Harry a wad of cash to go out and buy groceries and the kind of mouthwash with the squeeze top that doesn't spill (and sometimes a pair of yoga pants, which made Harry's increasingly thick thighs even more irresistible.) It was especially nice to be able to do this without worrying about the electric bill.
That was one of Harry's new things, yoga. And Louis definitely did not mind watching that go down in his living room.
As Louis wrote at work (in his new office, of course) Harry left the house to grocery shop for Louis and himself (and the baby, he liked to think.)
His first purchase was always a box of angel hair spaghetti, Louis favorite. He later was quick to move to the sauce aisle, hoping to find the Alfredo Louis is always so keen on bringing home.
Despite Harry's height, it was difficult for him to reach for the sauce as it rested on the top shelf, leaving the boy holding his tummy and reaching up on his tippy toes.
"You alright?" A man coughed beside him, earning a sigh from Harry.
It was only then that Harry turned to his left, his hands on his hips and lips in a pout.
What Harry saw was a very large man, tall with scruff around his jawline and chocolate brown eyes, which although quite beautiful, did not compare to Louis' icy ones.
The mans broad shoulders poked through his v-neck, and his defined biceps were visible through the cotton fabric.
"Oh, uh, yes," Harry coughed, trying his best to keep from staring, "I'm fine, thank you."
Harry tried his best to maintain a gentle smile, moving back to reach for the bottle above him.
"Here," the man said, moving his larger hand up to grab the sauce.
"Oh thank you, uh-" Harry waited for his name.
"Connor." He said, a smile dancing on his lips.
"Yes, Connor , thank you." Harry blushed.
"And you are?" Connor asked.
"I'm Harry." Harry responded meekly, thinking of Louis. He suddenly felt lost. What was he even doing with Louis? Louis wouldn't want him back, he knew it. How could he just sit and wait?
"Well, Harry, would you mind if I got your number? Just in case you need help reaching for any more cans of sauce?" The mans laugh was gruff and husky, very different from Louis'.
And so Harry gave it to him, reasonless guilt clouding his thoughts. He tried to reason with himself, that this was cheating.
How can you cheat on someone that doesn't even want you?
As Harry frolicked with the men at the local supermarket, Louis received a phone call at work.
Funnily enough, it was Niall. He had been thinking of him earlier in the day, wondering where's he's been.
Turns out Niall's been busy. The Boston native was moving back to Chicago with Katie, his fiancée.
And speaking of fiancée, turns out the couple plans on marrying here in Chicago, in a month.
Louis was shocked to say the least, but extremely happy for his friend who partied with him in years prior.
"That's great, man!" Louis laughs, spinning around in his office chair, staring up at the plastered ceiling as he wondered where Niall had been after so many years.
"And who will your plus one be? Seeing anyone these days, Tomlinson?" Niall cackled like usual, as if he hadn't changed at all.
Louis was as gay as the day was long, even in college when Niall would bring girls into their dorm (which didn't phase Louis much, as long as it didn't bother Niall when he fucked his young pretty boys in the other room, which its didn't.) Though, none of Louis' boys were quite as pretty as Harry.
Harry, he thinks.
"I have someone in mind." Louis smiled to himself, thinking of Harry's soft cheeks and forest green eyes.