butterfingers (l.s mpreg)

seven, week 12

The ride home from the airport was shorter than the previous one.

Anne asked about Louis, whom let Anne drive as he sat in the back staring fondly at the sight of Harry's hand on his belly.

"So, where are you from?" Anne asked sweetly. Harry had introduced them at the airport and Louis was greeted with a hug, a Harry hug that involved back rubbing and a kiss on the cheek.

"I grew up just outside the city, actually. My family moved away to Boston when I started college here in Chicago." Harry listened carefully, figuring he's going to need this information to tell his kid when they want to learn about their dad, in the event that Louis does not stick around.

"And what did you study there?" Anne asked, just as the group exited Louis' Audi to go into his apartment (he opened and closed the doors for his "boyfriend" and his mother, a gesture both appreciated and also that left Harry blushing.)

"Journalism, mostly, but I'm an English major." He said, carrying Anne's suitcase up the steps, "I always wanted to be an author." Louis gushed, earning a fond look from Harry, whom was smiling to himself. 

"That's wonderful." Anne smiled, looking to Harry with wide eyes mouthing "good job!" Leaving Harry flushed again.

Harry settled down on the couch.

Despite the fact he was not showing much and not even that far along, even the slightest of movement drained Harry of all energy. Although he doesn't like to admit it, he loved when Louis waits on him when he's sleepy (it means massages and Louis' cooking, which, contrary to popular belief, is quite good.)

"Well, the guest room is down the hall, and Harry and I's room is just in the opposite direction." Louis said, leading Anne down the hall with her bag in tow.

Harry coughed, readjusting himself on the sofa. Soon enough, Marky emerged from (Harry and) Louis' bedroom quicker than usual to sit beside Harry and rest his head on the boy's tummy.

"Well who's this?" Anne chuckled, coming back out from the guest room.

Mark jumped down to greet the visitor and smell her legs as she crouched down to say hello.

"This is Mark." Louis smiled on his way to sit beside Harry on the couch.

Harry gulped. Every time Louis got close enough so that Harry could smell him he would start to shake. His tummy would stop hurting and his head would ache. The amount of power Louis had over him made his heart hurt. Especially when his lips came so dangerously close to Harry's face.

"She's lovely." He whispered to him, wrapping an arm over Harry's broad shoulders.

Harry shuddered at his touch, cursing himself for doing so.

"Are you boys hungry?" Anne questioned.

Harry and Louis exchanged looks, as if to ask each other what to say. Louis briefly looked to Harry's belly, looking back up at Anne.

"I can make us something, Mrs. Styles. It's not problem." He goes to stand up.

"Please call me Anne, honey. And let me cook, silly. You're welcoming me into your home and treating my Harry awfully well, with a baby on the way and all." She smiles for what seems like the hundredth time tonight, which Louis figures is a good sign.