This is the New Year (Larry Mpreg)

Eight

Harry has been staring blankly at the black screen of his television since he arrived home from the sperm bank almost an hour ago. His phone was open to show the recent addition of 1000 pounds to his bank account, while his eyes were open to show his dry green eyes.

"You okay?" Niall says with an eyebrow cocked, entering the room and making his way into their kitchen. He pauses when Harry doesn't reply and walks up to the back of the couch Harry is sitting on. "Harry," Niall says, waiting for any acknowledgment. He gets none. "Harry!" he almost yells.

Harry jumps slightly, and his focus is moved to Niall. "Oh, hey, Niall," Harry says in a quieter voice than usual.

"Are you alright?" Niall asks, leaning on the back of the couch.

"Oh, um, yeah. I made 1000 pounds today," Harry says, looking down at his phone.

"What?" Niall asks, confused. "What the hell kind of bakery do you work in?"

"Um, I didn't go to work today," Harry swallowed. "I kind of went to a sperm bank," he finishes, his voice raising slightly as if he was asking a question.

"What? You, like, made a donation?" Niall asked, and Harry nodded. "And you got 1000 bucks for it?" Harry nodded again.

"Not going to lie, Niall, it's stressing me out quite a bit."

"Why?"

"What if someone chooses my... sample?" Harry's face scrunches up at the thought.

"Then you potentially make someone very happy," Niall shrugs. "It's alright, Harry. You probably won't even be chosen."

"Yeah, I guess."

"If you're going to be this stressed out about this, let's go out tonight to get your mind off of it, alright?" Niall says.

"Niall, I don't really feel-"

"Yeah, we're going out. Go get changed," Niall interrupts while running back to his room to go get ready.

Harry sighs and throws his head into the back of the couch, groaning. "I swear if he takes me to another Irish pub, I'm going to implode," he grumbles to himself as he stands up and trudges back to his room.