eight weeks - jan 22

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It's been about a week since Louis's small tussle with his mother, which he's slowly gotten over, and he still has yet to tell Harry about the possibility of going away for school. He's decided to weigh out all his options and even - to his utter horror - speak with a guidance counselor before he makes a decision. So he doesn't tell Harry, because he knows exactly how he'll react and knows exactly how Louis will act as a result. It's better this way, he thinks, especially since they're so focused on their child as of lately. Well, as of the moment Louis found out Harry was pregnant.

They're currently at the doctor's office, Harry on an exam table with his head propped up and hands on his stomach, and they're waiting for Cathy to show up. Louis is sat in a chair next to Harry, who's tracing patterns onto Louis's palm as his hand rests near him, and is bouncing his knees to a silent beat. He admittedly always feels anxious when they mention or visit the doctor, because they're still in the first trimester and he knows well enough what could go wrong. They could lose everything so easily. They could lose the life they made, and it's below the very last thing he wants to hear Cathy tell them. He keeps this fear to himself, of course, because he doesn't want to worry Harry.

It feels like he spends a lot of time keeping things from Harry.

Two knocks sound on the other side of the door, and both boys jerk their heads up just as Cathy enters the room. She positively beams at them, especially when she seems their interlaced fingers and Harry's free hand on his abdomen. "Ready to see Little One?"

Harry blanches. "Huh?"

"Did I forget to tell you? Silly me!" she laughs, plopping down in a chair on wheels and scooting over to the pair. She's putting on gloves before Louis even realizes what's fully happening. "We're doing an ultrasound today."

"Isn't it a bit early for that?" Louis asks. He's been with his mum to several appointments throughout her pregnancies, especially when he was younger and had no one else to take care of him – he likes to think he's a legitimate Master of Pregnancies by now.

"It depends on the pregnancy," she explains, flicking on a monitor with her elbow and rustling around for something, "but Harry here is young and a male, and it's his very first time carrying a child. His pregnancy is far riskier than that of a fully grown female, so we'll be doing ours earlier than most just to be safe. We want to keep baby and daddy happy and healthy, of course, so today we'll be checking for a heartbeat as well as checking for numbers."

"Numbers?" It's Louis's turn to gasp.

She smiles again, nodding toward Harry. "Lift your shirt up, love. It's going to be cold."

Harry looks a little hesitant as he pushes his jumper and t-shirt up – both of which are Louis's, because he insisted on snatching a few last time he stopped by Louis's place – and rests his hand that was previously on his stomach over his chest. Louis's grip on Harry's other hand tightens as he strokes his thumb over the skin of Harry's thumb as comfortingly as he can. He knows how important the entire situation is to Harry. It is to him as well, of course, but he also has noticed that Harry feels personally responsible for everything that happens inside of him. He blames his morning sickness on poor eating habits and his frequent urge to pee on "how often I sit on my bum, Lou," and his sore muscles on his lack of proper stretching. Louis thinks he's full of shit, but he wisely decides to keep this opinion to himself and kiss Harry quiet instead.

"I need to do yoga, Louis. Will you do yoga with me?" Harry had stressed, fluttering around the room and organizing the small amount of baby supplies that he'd collected. He's gotten some stuffed animals and a few tiny books, because he insists that reading to their child from day one is of utmost importance, as well as a music box. ("Classical music makes them smarter, Lou. I read it in my book.") He was still shirtless after a lazy fuck on his bed, which Louis had very much enjoyed, but now a pair of yoga pants hung low on his hips. Louis watched him from his position under the duvet as he pushed messy fringe from his face.

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