Baby Lips [l.s mpreg] (boyxboy)

seventeen weeks - mar. 26

It's spring and getting sunny out again and Louis really, really needs to tell Harry because he's begun to look into jobs for Louis to get and, as sweet as the gesture is, he's running out of excuses. The longer he puts of telling Harry, the worse the situation will be when he finally does come clean. He's even looked into online schooling just to try to avoid having to leave, but the program he wants at the school he wants isn't offered online. So he decides to wait until they're alone in a place where there are no weapons within a few feet of Harry lest he become blinded with anger and stab Louis in the chest - which is not going to happen, he knows, but he isn't sure he would blame Harry all too much if it did. He knows how important honesty is in a relationship, after all.

Jesus fuck, what has he done?

"I wanted to get you something for Easter," says Harry, "but I didn't know if you celebrated it or not."

Louis purses his lips. They're in the library, currently, looking up information for a project that they've decided to tackle together - Louis is, of course, the only one getting anything done at the moment due to Harry's ever growing lack of focus and his appetite. Harry has been stuffing pretzels into his mouth since the start of their free period.

"Well, I suppose I do celebrate it. And I don't think Easter is meant to be a gift-giving holiday."

"I meant candy of some sort." Some crunching, and then a sigh. "But I spent the money I had saved up on maternity pants."

"Harold. Do you even need maternity pants right now?" Louis asks, eyes focused on his screen as he scrolls through pictures. Harry pokes his wrist a few times. Louis e only gives him the satisfaction of looking at him through his peripheral vision. "What is it?"

"Yes, I need maternity pants. My other ones won't go up all the way. Look, Lou. My bump is real now." He hitches up his pink jumper just a little and, thank God they're the only ones in the library, puts a pretzel atop it to show that it is indeed jutting out a noticeable amount. It is real. Harry has been wearing mostly baggier tops as of late, so Louis has a harder time noticing it when he's not actually looking for it. The rest of Harry has remained virtually the same. He follows a strict diet plan - aside from his spontaneous cravings - because his book says to, of course. Louis really needs to invest in a new, less nutty resource for Harry to turn to lest his diet turn into solely leaves and unfiltered spring water.

Louis takes his gaze away from Harry's torso and back up to his eyes. Those eyes, Louis swears, are going to be the death of him. Harry's biting his lip like he's waiting for him to respond.

"Seventeen weeks, huh? That's-" he pauses to do the math in his head, "I think it's four, right?"

Harry nods. "A little bit over."

"Nearly halfway, then." Louis can't help it. He closes his open tabs and turns to Harry, placing both of his hands on Harry's little bump and leaning forward to rest their foreheads together. Harry lets out a ridiculously quick puff of air at Louis's movement, blowing his fringe from his face and giggling at the inconvenience he's caused, but still returns Louis's affection with a flutter of his long, curly eyelashes. Louis loves him, God, does he love him. He loves his dimples and his little bit of strawberry smelling lip balm that always lingers on his lower lip even into the afternoon hours. He loves his skirt days and his skinny jean days and his smokey eye days too. He wonders if Harry could teach him how to do it so that he could try it out on Harry's eyes one day, just to see what it's like - or maybe even to himself.