Help me. | l.s. (mpreg) [Book 1]

33

As soon as Louis got in his car after work his body visibly relaxed because now he was done for the day and he knew he was going home to his boyfriend who had probably cooked a five course meal for them even though Louis had told him plenty of times already that he didn't have to overdo it everyday, but when Harry loved cooking then who was he to scold him for it?

The past few days were exhausting and stressful and every day when he had called it a day was like a wave of happiness rushed through his body. He had managed to save a few deals he had almost lost because of his temporary exit from his private and professional life when he had been constantly drunk and not able to take care of anything a few weeks ago.

He sighed and loosened his tie before he started his car and drove the short ride home. When he got out of his car after stopping in front of the garage he went over to the postbox and grabbed the few letters that were laying inside. Most of them were bills or advertisements and he mentally scoffed as he looked through them while opening the front door.

"Darling, I'm home!" He called without looking up from the letters in his hand kicking the door shut with his foot.

"In the kitchen!" Harry called back.

Louis smiled to himself because he just knew it. He rounded the corner after kicking off his shoes and placed a kiss to Harry's cheek who was standing in front of the stove stirring in a pot. Louis scrunched up his nose as he tried to make out what Harry was cooking as he glanced up from the mail.

"Don't look so disgusted. It's healthy and I promise you'll like it." Harry said pointedly.

"If not you can't prevent me from ordering pizza and you won't get a slice." Louis stated.

"I don't want pizza. I'm happy with what I'm making thank you very much." Harry grinned sarcastically and Louis rolled his eyes. "Anything important in the mail?"

"Bills, bills, bills, a voucher for some new Indian restaurant, bills and a brochure for a car service. I don't know who the fuck decides to keep this shit and thinks 'oh three years ago I got this exact brochure, let's call them and hope they didn't go bankrupt.' No one, not a single fucking soul calls them and that's why they all barely survive a year." Louis ranted.

"Well, Zayn used one of those for your car after you crashed it into the fountain." Harry crossed his arms grinning smugly as he leaned against the counter.

"Ha funny." Louis grumbled. "I'm gonna have a shower. You comin' with me?"

"What am I doing right now?" Harry quirked an eyebrow. Louis looked at him puzzled before his eyes wandered to the pot.

"Cooking?" He said confused.

"Exactly. So do I have time right now to take a shower? Particularly having a shower with you which would probably end in us fucking and then I can throw the food away because it's overcooked." Harry looked at Louis expectantly whose eyes darkened slightly.

"Firstly, watch your mouth and stop being smart, or do you need to get spanked? Secondly, nobody said we were going to fuck, but if we would then I would made sure to make it quick so whatever you are cooking here won't be wasted even though it probably wouldn't even be a loss judging by its looks. Thirdly, I was just asking so calm down. A simple no would've been enough."

"Hey, don't say anything against my food just because you don't like eating healthy." Harry frowned playfully ignoring Louis' threat of a punishment purposely, but Louis knew him well enough by now.

"That's all you heard from what I was saying?" He quirked an eyebrow as he rounded the counter and slowly walked over to Harry not breaking eye contact. Harry gulped and took a step back but his back hit the counter and he was trapped.