state of grace » l.s. mpreg

forty-six

Harry wakes up in the middle of the night, and he really has to wee.

It's a miracle he was even sleeping in the first place. The babies are making it incredibly hard to breathe, it's impossible to get comfortable, and they also seem to be the most active when he's trying to sleep. Troublemakers. He wonders where they possible could've gotten that from. He glances up at Louis, who's fast asleep.

The hormones are really hitting him, because looking up at Louis' face in the dull moonlight, he tears up a little. Louis' sleeping on his back, which he never used to do, but the only way Harry can get comfortable is if he basically uses Louis as a body pillow.

So, Louis' started sleeping on his back, so Harry can be comfortable. And it's so stupid, and not even really that grand of a gesture, but Harry's crying. Because Louis is so, so sweet, and there are a lot of husbands who probably wouldn't do that for their spouses. He clearly cares a lot about him, and Harry cares about him the same way. His heart could burst. And his bladder.

So now he has to wee, and he's weeping at how wonderful Louis is. He has his arm wrapped around Louis' torso, face pressed into his chest, and he sniffles. After a moment he feels Louis' hand reach up and hold his back, and then he starts to cry a little harder, because Louis already has enough trouble sleeping without his dumb, hormonal husband waking him up.

"Y'okay?" Louis mumbles, voice low and gravelly with sleep. It's really sexy. So now Harry is dumb, hormonal, and turned on. Wonderful.

"Mhm," Harry sniffles, squishing his cheek even further into Louis' chest. "I jus' love you."

He feels Louis' lips press the top of his head. "I love you too, pumpkin."

"I look like a pumpkin," Harry pouts. Louis laughs into his hair quietly, giving his waist a squeeze.

"You're a damn pretty one, then," Louis replies. Harry blinks the tears out of his eyes, and they drip down his face. Louis, a little more awake now, wipes some of the wetness from his cheeks. "Baby. What's the matter?"

"Y-You're sleeping on your back for me," Harry weeps, and he realises how ridiculous he must sound, but Louis would never tell him because he's so sweet and holy shit Harry needs to pull it together. "You're so nice to me. And all I do is cry."

"Hey," Louis soothes, reaching up and running his fingers through Harry's hair, extra curly and thick and shiny from the new influx of pregnancy hormones. "It's okay. You're okay, bub."

"And I really have to wee, but I don't want to because I have to sit down," Harry continues. "And I haven't even seen my own dick in three months." Louis lets out a laugh, and Harry can't help but giggle a little through his tears. Louis kisses the top of his head again before slowly sitting up.

"Alright, let's get you up," He sighs, helping Harry sit up as well, a gentle hand cradling his back. 

"I can go myself," Harry assures, sniffling, guilt flooding his thoughts all over again when he remembers he's woken Louis up. "You should go back to sleep."

"Hazza, I love you, but I'm afraid you're gonna stand up off the toilet and tip over," Louis says as he climbs off the bed. Harry scowls. Louis grabs Harry's hand, his other hand supporting Harry's back, and pulls him up off the bed. He wipes Harry's cheeks before pecking his lips. "You're gonna hate me for saying this."

"I could never hate you."

"I think Dr. Bajaj is going to put you on bed rest tomorrow."

"I hate you."

"Babe," Louis says gently, walking Harry out of the bedroom. Harry just makes a distasteful whining noise, and Louis rolls his eyes. "You know they're not going to want you to have them early."