One Night Stand » L.S.

26

30 comments or i'm deleting this whole story i'm sick of being NEGLECTEDT

Louis steps into the house, brushing some snow off of his shoulders and shivering. How wonderful, he thinks, that it didn't start snowing until the moment he left the office. He shrugs his jacket off and hangs it on the coat rack next to the door, shutting the door behind him.

Harry is sitting on the sofa with his back against the armrest, a blanket draped over his legs. He looks over at Louis and smiles. "Hi, Lou," He greets, smiling wider when Louis walks over to the couch and inserts himself between Harry and the back of the couch, snuggling up to him.

"You're warm," He sighs, eyes closed. "Let's move someplace warm so Beverly doesn't have to deal with snow, I fucking hate snow."

"Language," Harry reminds, pausing the show he was watching on the telly. He runs his fingers through Louis' hair before adding, "I say Jamaica."

"Sounds good, pumpkin," Louis hums. Harry giggles at the silly pet name, resting his free hand on his belly. He feels even bigger than he did the week before. He's huge, and can barely walk, and he just wants this baby out. "I figured Beverly would have made her appearance before the new year."

"Fashionably late, just like her Dad," Harry teases. Louis blows a raspberry before pressing a kiss to Harry's shoulder, sighing contently.

"I love you," He says quietly, and Harry's hand pauses in his hair. Louis can imagine the flustered look on his face. "Maybe a little too much."

"Probably not more than I love you," Harry counters with a sweet laugh, one that makes Louis' insides warm. He opens his eyes and leans up to press their lips together, his hand going to Harry's cheek.

They separate, and Harry leans his forehead on Louis' shoulder. "Chinese for dinner?" Louis asks, and Harry nods slightly. He's tired, Louis can tell. Tired from not sleeping and having the shit beaten out of his insides all day. Louis is sure the inside of his tummy must have bruises from how hard Beverly goes at it all day. "I'll call the place."

"You're the best," Harry sighs lovingly.

"I know," Louis snickers, pulling his mobile out of his back pocket and climbing over the back of the couch to go find the takeaway menu. Harry pats his bum before he walks away, and Louis lets out a giggle that makes him feel like he's fourteen and in love.

Louis calls the Chinese takeaway place, having memorised Harry's order from all the times Harry was too tired to cook and Louis didn't know how. He walks back to the lounge when he's done, sitting on the opposite end of the couch and rolling his eyes fondly when Harry sets his socked feet in his lap.

It's only a few moments in of Harry watching some dramatic show about doctors and Louis scrolling through something on his phone that it happens. Louis can see it in the corner of his eye. Harry's face scrunches up in discomfort as he grips onto the sofa with both hands.

"You okay?" Louis asks cautiously, fully looking up from his phone. Harry nods weakly, his face relaxing a bit as he exhales.

"Fine, yeah," He assures, giving Louis a weary smile. Louis puts his phone down on the coffee table before crawling into the space between the couch and Harry again, resting his head on Harry's shoulder.

"Do you think you're going into labour?" Louis asks after a few moments. He can feel Harry tense, head whipping towards Louis.

"I-I don't know," He squeaks. Louis leans up and kisses right below Harry's jaw, watching as he bites his bottom lip. "It didn't feel like a Braxton Hick. I thought that's all it was, I had some earlier, but then they kept happening, and they kept getting worse."