Harry is eager.
It seems he's either gotten over his skepticism or is great at pretending it doesn't exist, because he's already planning a nursery in the spare room at his mum's house and writing lists of names. He's bookmarked at least a dozen web pages full of baby clothes and purchased about four ridiculous parenting books - Your Pregnancy Week by Week; You're Gonna Be a Dad, Dude! - and is obsessed with wearing shirts so tight that Louis is almost concerned he can't breathe properly in them. He also makes Louis measure around his torso every day. Every day.
"Harry, you know you're not going to show-"
"Do it." He thrusts the tape measure into Louis's hands and lifts his arms up, kicking his shirt across the floor. He's standing in front of the full length mirror in his room and he stares at Louis's reflection expectantly. Louis sighs. "You're literally the same size as you were yesterday," he says, tossing the tape onto Harry's bed and wrapping his arms around Harry's stomach instead.
Harry huffs. "No, my stomach pokes out a little right here." He guides one of Louis's hands in between his hip bones, and there is the very smallest beginning of a bump there, Louis guesses - it barely juts out and it's only visible because Harry's torso is so flat on its own. "See? That's a person, Lou," he says, mesmerized by the way Louis's hand looks on top of his skin. He rests his own hand over it, and sniffles.
"Baby, no." He's only known of Harry's pregnancy for a short amount of time, but he's learned the signs of a good cry very quickly. The sniffles come first, then the pink nose, and then the wobbly voice. And then the tears. Harry cried when Louis kissed his stomach for the first time - which, Louis thinks, is practically nonexistent, but. - and he called Louis in tears at six in the morning after a nasty wave of nausea. Morning sickness has been inconveniencing Harry horribly within the past few days. Harry insists that it's normal, his book even says so, but that doesn't stop him from complaining and then proceeding to consume all of Louis's food at lunch. ("I'm creating a person, Louis; I think I'm entitled to your applesauce.")
Louis is extremely worried about people at school noticing, especially because Harry is leeching to him and eating like a horse. Harry insists that it's all in Louis's mind but he swears he feels people staring sometimes, and he's not a jerk. He's not ashamed of Harry or of their relationship, but Harry is pregnant now and they can only hide it for so long.
And he still has to tell his mother.
________
It all starts to go downhill after school the next day.
They're out at a store because Harry is craving vanilla ice cream and jalapeno flavored crisps at the same time, and he almost bit Louis's head off when he laughed at him for it, so. They're going to buy the crisps and ice cream and the earth is still round.
They're on their way to a self-checkout when Harry notices the baby section.
Louis notices Harry's eyes dart away from his face mid-sentence and he follows his gaze. He immediately regrets coming to a superstore instead of just a regular grocery store. "Harry, no."
"But Louis," he whines, throwing his head back dramatically, "I just want to look."
It takes two entire minutes of convincing on Harry's part and Louis finds himself surrounded by small onesies and stuffed animals before he can even blink. He's not sure when he became so whipped, but he does admit that watching Harry stroke the tiny clothes with wonder is pretty adorable.
"Louis, they're so small," he breathes, cooing at some pink booties that they really don't need. Not yet.
"Babies are small, Hazza," Louis chuckles, turning to face Harry. "You're the youngest, yeah? Probably don't have much experience with babies." Harry shakes his head, still staring at the shelves, and finally moves his hand away.
"It makes it feel really real," he says, and Louis gets it. He does. Standing in an aisle surrounded by little clothes and toys makes the remaining months feel like days. They have nothing yet and they barely have any time to prepare, holy fuck.
"Maybe we should be looking at stuff..." Louis trails off, biting the nail of his thumb. "I mean, we can start small."
Harry tilts his head to the side, thinking, and he points to a stack of fluff. "Blankets."
Louis turns and has to clear his throat to keep from squealing, actually, because they're so small and cute. Harry picks up a white one decorated with little doodles of suns, or something, but it's perfect and Louis loves it. And he loves Harry.
So, needless to say, they buy the blanket and the food. Harry has to drop Louis off because it's getting late and Louis needs to be home for the girls, so he gives Harry a kiss to the cheek and nose before he gets out. He's taking a driver's education course this semester and Harry is giving him (very terrifying) lessons, because he feels bad for basically having Harry as his chauffeur. And Harry isn't going to be able to drive properly when he goes into labor, so.
They've discussed it. Harry is due in late August or early September. Harry doesn't menstruate, so they've calculated his due date using around the day that they know their baby had to have been conceived (as it was the only time they'd had sex six or so weeks ago).
"Genetic mutation," their doctor had explained, "only present in some people, approximately a third of the male population. Which is why you heard it's not as common, yes. Both of your parents must have been carriers, Harry."
"Does that mean I'll get periods?" Harry whines, and Louis pales a bit.
She smiles. "No. You're sixteen and a late bloomer, but you still have a fully functioning male reproductive system." Harry blushes at her words. "The female reproductive organs that you and I are familiar with, like the uterus-" she points to a diagram on the wall of a woman's insides, or something (Louis is mildly disgusted), "come from something called the Müllerian duct during the development of a fetus. It usually breaks down for males, of course, except for people like you. It's, as I said, a mutation - you still have the chromosomes and external genitalia as a normal male."
"Does that mean I'm not... normal?"
"That's not what I meant, no. You've just got something special. You mentioned having family members who have experienced pregnancy as males? It is likely, because genetics definitely play a huge role here."
Harry nods, sniffles fading. "I do."
"Will the baby... come out the way it... went in?" Louis asks, blushing all the way to the tips of his ears. Harry shoots him a thoroughly embarrassed glare. The doctor - Louis thinks she asked them to call her Cathy - smiles again. She's always smiling.
"Heavens no. While possible, natural birth for males is extremely painful and labor is already long enough, on average, for them as it is. It's also quite dangerous, because tearing is a lot more commo-"
"C-section it is," Harry interrupts, squeezing Louis's hand.
He smiles at the memory, but Harry is sort of waiting for Louis to get out of the car, so.
Louis watches Harry pull away, waving until his car becomes a dark dot in the distance. He turns around and all of the lights in his house are on, suspiciously, and then he notices his mum's car parked in the driveway.
And another car.
He walks stiffly to the door, entering as quietly as he can, and slips his shoes off by the entrance. He's glad he's left the bag with the blanket with Harry, especially when Fizzy rounds the corner and smacks into his legs because she's not paying attention. He lifts her into his arms once lest she stumble and fall.
"Hi Fiz," he says, patting Daisy and Phoebe on their heads as he wanders into the kitchen. His throat is dry and voice raspy, because he may or may not have given Harry a blow job before their trip, but he thinks it's not anything that can't be solved with a glass of water.
"Where have you been?" she asks cooly. Louis sets Felicite down.
"With Harry," he says, trying to remain as casual as possible. Louis has always been terrible at lying, so he avoids eye contact and searches for a glass instead. His mother clears her throat. "At this hour?"
"It's not that late," Louis defends, "the girls are still awake."
"You've been spending so much time with Harry," Lottie whines suddenly, and Louis has to fight the urge to kick her incredibly hard. Jay cocks her eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. Louis immediately panics and scans the room, l
Dan looks like Louis is making him uncomfortable. Good. "Don't be rude, Louis," she scolds, and Louis sets the empty glass he's found down a little too harshly.
"Harry is my boyfriend. If you're allowed to spend so much time with yours, why can't I?" he bites, and he regrets it as soon as the words leave his mouth. Jay huffs a little, standing up straighter. Lottie stares between the two of them anxiously.
"You're seventeen-"
"Eighteen," he corrects. "I'm eighteen now, Mum."
"Eighteen. You're eighteen. I'm an adult and Dan and I are engaged. It's different."
"Harry needs me right now."
"Why is that?"
Louis backs up. "He's... going through something. I'm just trying to be there for him."
"You visit him every day!" Lottie chimes in.
"Shut up," he hisses. His mother glares at him with heat that he hasn't see in a very, very long time. He never argues with his mother. Not like this, at least, and he hates it but he can't leave
"What is so important that you think it's okay to neglect your responsibilites? You know I need you home."
Louis avoids the question purposely, averting his gaze. His bare feet have suddenly become very interesting.
"Louis," she prompts.
He feels his lower lip trembling. "He's pregnant." He says it so quietly that even he can barely hear it.
"What?"
"I said," he stutters, heart pounding, "I said he's pregnant."
"Pregnant?" she gasps, and Louis is fully expecting her to start yelling. "Why?"
He furrows his brow. "Excuse me?"
"Did he cheat on you, or something? Or did it happen before you two got together?"
Louis blinks. "Mum-"
"But surely he'd have told you earlier in the relationship if that was the case-"
"Mum," he cuts her off. "No. Harry is pregnant and... I'm the father."
She stops immediately, and it's like Louis has hit a pause button. Her mouth is still open, hand on her forehead, and it's almost comical in a twisted sort of way. "You're what?"
"I'm the father," he repeats, and he's so glad everyone else has left the room. He feels tears pricking to the surface, tightness in his throat, and he tries to keep his voice as strong as he possibly. "I'm sorry, I-"
"You're lying." She doesn't seem to want a response, so Louis gladly shuts up. "You're lying. You wouldn't get someone pregnant. Not this young. I know you wouldn't. I raised you better than that."
Something in Louis snaps. He's not sure if it's her tone or her words or the way she's looking at him, but he almost feels it physically, even. "How can you raise me when you're never around?"
"That's not my fault," she hisses.
"You were never here and you never have been," he shouts, failing at keeping his voice down, as he originally intended (for his sisters's sakes). "You don't even know who I am anymore!"
"Well, maybe I don't, because the Louis I know would never be so irresponsible."
"I used protection. I did everything I was supposed to do and it still happened, Mum, it's not my fault."
"Who's is it then?"
"No one's!" he cries, throwing his hands up in the air. He's sure his face is red because he feels hot all of the sudden. "We made a mistake but we're ready to handle it. I'm ready to handle it."
"What are you going to do, Louis? You have no job, no money- you're not even finished with school!"
"Maybe I would have all this things if you were here! I spend all of my time doing your job." His chest heaves.
His mother takes a step closer to him, pointing her finger into his chest. "I work day and night to keep a roof over your head and clothes on your back. You know that."
"You're a liar," he sobs, and he's not quite sure when he actually started crying for real. "You're a liar."
"No I'm-"
"You spend more time with your fucking boyfriend than you do us."
"Don't you dare go there, Louis."
"And you know what else? I'm going to get a job and we're going to make it work. Why can't you just be supportive?"
"Because you're just like your father!" And Louis has never heard his mother yell so loudly. "You're just like him! You knock someone up too young and promise to make it work but you won't. I can't believe you would be so stupid. Just like your father."
Louis backs away, shaking his head. He feels defeated. "I can't believe you."
"Don't make me seem like the bad guy."
"I can't believe you just said that to me." He can see the regret on her face, but it still hurts. She still said it.
"Louis, I-"
"Forget it. I'm leaving. Just like my dad, yeah?" he whimpers, and turns to leave the kitchen.
He hears his mother calling for him but he makes it out the door, slamming it behind him. And then he realizes he doesn't have a car or a mobile to call Harry.
So, as a last resort, he walks across the street and knocks on the door. He can't go to anyone who he knows personally because then he'd have to explain the situation and it's very possible he'd end up going back to his house afterward, which is the opposite of what he wants to do. So, house across the street it is. He doesn't know this neighbor very well, but discovers it's an older woman. She agrees to let him use her phone, probably because his face is red and tear-streaked and he's shaking like a leaf. He gets in the house quickly so that his mum won't see him should she come looking.
He dials Harry's number immediately, dabbing at his eyes with a frilly napkin that he honestly feels bad about soiling, and sniffles as he waits.
Harry immediately asks Louis what's wrong, but Louis isn't sure he can explain it fully without breaking down into tears like a baby. So he asks Harry to pick him up instead.
Harry makes it there in record time. After a quick peek out the window, Louis thanks the old woman profusely and rushes out to Harry's car. As soon as he's inside, Harry lurches over and hugs him so tightly thatit makes Louis cry all over again. He almost wonders if he's the pregnant one.
"Can I stay with you tonight?" he asks, and Harry nods, looking extremely concerned. "I'll tell you when we get home."
Home. He lets out another sob, because he isn't sure when his house stopped feeling like home.
_______
"I'm so sorry, Louis."
They're spooning, because Louis finds it's easier to talk about his father and the fight with his mother if he doesn't have to look Harry directly in the eye. But he still needs him close. His hands rest over Harry's lower stomach, right where it feels just the tiniest bit firmer than everywhere else. He supposes he should maybe feel bad or upset at himself for creating this child, but when he puts his hand there he just can't. He can't regret their little one when they're already so important to him.
"He left when I was two. I don't even remember him. But he was never around before that anyway. My mum had me young. Maybe too young," he sniffs. "He was never a father to me. Never wanted anything to do with me. He probably forgot I even exist. I hate him and I don't eve know him, Harry. I don't want to be like my dad. I don't w-want-" and he stops for a minute to take a deep breath. "He just left when we needed him most and nothing has been easy ever since then. I always wonder if my mum wishes I didn't exist because then it would be easier for everyone. I want to feel like I belong somewhere."
Harry is quiet for a moment. He turns around in Louis's arms wordlessly, kissing him gently before he rests their foreheads together. Louis's hands have drifted up to Harry's waist, but Harry grabs them and brings them back down to his stomach. Harry's own larger hands rest on top of them.
"You do belong somewhere," says Harry, quiet and gentle. He look up at Louis with his green, green eyes and it's so genuine that Louis has to blink. He's so in love. He knows that he won't be like his father, because he already loves Harry more than he thinks he should. Their noses bump together. "Think you may be meant for me, Lou. Does that sound crazy?"
Louis laughs a little, because it does. It really does.
"Regardless." Harry smiles at him through his words, presses his hands down harder. "We did that. We made them. And maybe it's not the best timing, but that doesn't make it any less beautiful." Louis blushes.
"I know."
"And of course you're not like your dad. You're... Louis. My Louis. And I love you very much."
__________
the Müllerian duct is a real thing and it does actually exist. i made up the part about there being a genetic mutation in males where it doesn't break down during development as a fetus, but i tried to keep the explanation as... realistic as it could be? i hope it made sense.
votes and comments are lovely xx