keep me » larry a.u.

twenty-seven

"Harry, love."

Harry whines, wrinkling his nose and burying his face into the pillow. He just wants to sleep. He feels a hand on his face, his skin automatically recognising it as Louis'. "They've gotta check up on you, H," Louis says quietly, and Harry blinks his eyes open to see Louis' soft smile, instantly remembering that, oh yeah, he's in labour.

"We've just got to see how dilated you are, babes," The nurse at the end of the bed says. Harry doesn't want to. He's tired. But, he lets Louis help him roll onto his back and sit up just a bit. The nurse spreads his legs apart, and he makes a face before closing his eyes again.

"I don't like that," He mumbles sleepily.

"I'm sorry, love," The nurse replies, laughing a little. "I'll be quick."

Louis takes Harry's hand. Harry squeezes it, wincing a little when the nurse gets all up in his ass (literally) with something metal and cold. "You should sit down," Harry mutters.

"'S like having my Mum around," Louis huffs, and the nurse giggles. "I'm fine. I've been sitting for hours. Let me stand next to you."

"No. You smell," Harry teases.

"How did I ever get the privilege of being with someone so diplomatic?" Harry blows a raspberry at him, and Louis laughs, and the tubes up his nose must be working, because he doesn't cough.

"Six centimetres," The nurse declares. Harry sighs. "You're getting there, hun."

"Not fast enough," Harry whines.

"I'll be back in an hour or so, okay?" The nurse pats Harry's leg before standing up off her stool, taking her gloves off and walking out of the room. He's so fucking tired, and he just wants this to be over. He's been in labour for hours. As soon as the door is shut, Harry bursts into tears, and he can feel Louis' hand on his face again.

"Hey, hey," Louis soothes. "It's okay, love. You heard her, you're getting there."

"I'm so tired," Harry sniffles, finally opening his watery eyes to see Louis looking down at him. Louis wipes his tears, and Harry sighs shakily. "I don't think I'm ready."

"Haz," Louis chuckles, endeared. "Love, you're ready."

"Promise?" Harry whimpers.

"Pinky promise," Louis let's go of Harry's hand to link their pinkies together, and Harry giggles weakly. "You're gonna be the coolest dad ever."

Harry's about to reply, but he's hit with a contraction that makes him squeeze his eyes shut and whimper again. Louis sits on the edge of the bed, letting Harry squeeze his hand hard. "I know, babe," Louis says softly. Harry groans pitifully, his stomach and back and thighs aching. Once it ends, he deflates back into the bed, bringing Louis' hand to his face. Louis frowns. "I wish I could take the pain away and experience it myself."

"I love you," Harry sniffles. He looks up at Louis, his pale skin and sunken-in cheeks and tired eyes, and his chest aches at the thought of a future without him. He wipes his eyes and says, "We're gonna be together forever, right?"

"Yup," Louis answers, no hesitation. No jokes about dying. "In a few years we'll be in uni, and we're gonna move out of my Mum's house, and get married, and have, like, ten more kids."

"Ten?!" Harry giggles. "Only if you plan on doing this the other nine times."

Louis pretends to be annoyed, huffing. "Fine. How about...six?"

"Two."

"Four?"

"Three."

"I can live with three," Louis grins, bringing Harry's hand up to his mouth and kissing the back of it. "And a dog."