My fav Larry Stylinson stories

your the sky that i fell through

This is the most degrading thing Harry has ever done.

And the thing is- the thing is that he's not sure if his urine is even getting on the damn stick. The things weren't even made for dudes to pee on in the first place, so he has yet to figure out how the results of his home pregnancy test are going to be in any way accurate.

But what's he talking about. Guys aren't supposed to get pregnant.

Once he figures he's irrigated the offending thing, he sits it on the bathroom counter and checks his watch.

Three minutes to go.

Looking back, he doesn't know where he went wrong. Maybe he should have started forcing Louis to wear condoms. Maybe he should have made him pull out. And maybe, maybe he's crazy for thinking that he could ever be pregnant in the first place.

Times up.

Moment of truth.

Harry is seventeen years old.

Seventeen years old and praying to god almighty that there are not two lines on that stick.

But of course, when he flips it over, there they are.

"Shit."

-

"Hey babe, my parents are going out of town tonight, wanna come over?" Louis is leaning against Harry's locker, one hand in his pocket and the other lying limply by his side. Harry notes how well the sleeves of his t-shirt accent his biceps, and he wants to bend himself over right then and there but no, he guesses he's screwed himself over enough times already.

"I can't, I have a doctors appointment." He tries to focus on rearranging the books in his locker rather than the concerned look Louis is currently shooting at him. "Oh! I'm sorry babe, are you sick?"

Harry wants to say No, you idiot. I never make you use protection and now I'm one of the worlds first pregnant teenage boys! Congrats babe! You knocked me up! Happy two year anniversary! But instead he turns to his boyfriend and sends him the best smile he can muster. "No, it's just a yearly checkup. Nothing to worry about."

Louis smiles brightly, grabbing onto his hand. "Good. I'd be worried to death if something happened to my baby."

Yeah, your baby. Harry thinks. If you only knew.

-

But of course, there is something to worry about.

Because here Harry is, lying in some weird chair with his feet propped up and some probe in his arse and there, on the screen of the monitor in front of him, is his uterus.

His uterus.

Okay. No, it's okay. It's going to be okay.

He breathes deeply as the doctor tells him congratulations, tells him that there are other cases like his and that everything should go smoothly but.

That doesn't change the fact that he's seventeen years old with his whole life in front of him, and yet here he is in a doctors office being told that he has a uterus and that he's having Louis' baby.

And it's not like he doesn't want to have Louis' kid, it's not that at all. He loves Louis. More than anything on earth. And he wants to be with Louis forever but he's seventeen years old, and he and Louis both want to go to uni, and he's having a baby.

Once he leaves, he sits in his car and cries for a good twenty minutes.

-

He wakes up the next morning to Louis throwing pebbles at his window.