Louis was now eight, almost nine weeks pregnant. The UTI was under control, almost done with his antibiotics, and was back at work. His mum, stepfather, and siblings were coming to visit and he couldn't handle his excitement. His family could finally visit and stay at his place, now that they have the extra rooms.
It was Saturday morning, the day his mum was arriving. He was planning on sleeping in, but Harry had other plans. There was a pair of ice cold hands shoving underneath his shirt and rubbing circles over his belly. Damn Harry. Louis groaned, "Haz, stop."
"'m saying morning to my peas," Harry said, his voice thick with sleep. Louis tried to roll away, but Harry's hands gripped him at the waist.
"It's cold, your hands," Louis complained. Then, Harry placed warm kisses beneath his bellybutton, making Louis laugh. Laughing reminded him that he had to pee. Louis thought people didn't have issue with their urination frequencies until they were farther along. Not at eight and half weeks. He then opened eyes to see Harry's bed head and the faintest glimpse his lips.
"Love you peas," Harry murmured against the skin of Louis' belly. He had been getting a little pudge recently, but not enough to know Louis was pregnant from a glimpse.
"Time?" asked Louis, pushing Harry off his belly and sitting up.
"Half past eight," Harry answered, standing in front of Louis and rubbing his hands along. "I fed Olivia, came in to wake you up to eat something before your antibiotic."
"You treat me so good," Louis said, leaning up to kiss Harry but just getting his cheek. "I have to pee, these babies are killing me when it comes to peeing."
"That's the sexiest thing I've ever heard. I get your breakfast ready, wash your hands," Harry laughed.
Louis rushed into the bathroom to relieve himself. After finishing and washing his hands, he lifted up his shirt to look at his belly. It was cute, but he couldn't wait for it to fill out and he could feel them kick him wildly.
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In the kitchen was salmon. The smell hit Louis like a ton of bricks. The nausea took him over and his mind spun. He rushed back into his bedroom, but couldn't make it to the toilet. He vomited straight into their sink. He hadn't thrown up in over two weeks. Harry's hands were suddenly on his back, rubbing him gently.
Louis turned on the water, trying to drain the vomit down. He filled up his mouth straight from the faucet, swished it around in his mouth, and spat it out. He grunted out, "Get that salmon out of the house."
"Okay," Harry said. "Didn't think you'd be sensitive to the smell. You love salmon."
"Not anymore."
After the salmon was gone and Harry spritzed a fragrance in the kitchen, Louis came in. Olivia greeted him with a hug and kiss, she seemed to be calmer today. Maybe seeing her Papa almost vomit everywhere scared her. Harry gave him a bagel with cream cheese and ginger tea.
