Beating For Two

Epilouge

Harry

It was on July 5th that Aidan gave his first smile. Or his first social smile at least. All three of us were sitting on the bed, leaned up against the headboard, and Aidan was lying in Louis' arms, just having finished a bottle of formula and looking abnormally sated and content. His eyes, which over the last few weeks had turned bluer and bluer, were – as per usual – roaming around and not focusing on anything at all. But then they suddenly were. Louis' jaw dropped and he let out a little whine.

“He's looking me in the eyes!” he exclaimed excitedly, “Harry, look! He's looking me in the eyes!” He sat there like that, excited and, in my opinion, adorable, for a good ten minutes before the cooing noises he let out turned into a little wail and a “Oh my God, he's smiling at me too. He doesn't hate me after all!” Then he started to cry. Louis, not Aidan.

It wouldn't be the last time I saw him cry that summer. On September 16th, I left for Manchester, and as I loaded everything I needed into my car, everyone except for dad was in tears. Adrian and Connor kept yanking at my jeans and telling me to stay home, both sobbing like there was no tomorrow, while mum was petting my head again and again, her cheeks stained and mumbling about how all her babies were leaving her one after one. And then there were Louis and Aidan. The expression on Louis' face and the amount of tears that were pouring out of his eyes would have been more suitable if I was leaving to join the Afghan war. Aidan on his part seemed to sense that something was up, because he was wailing miserably into Louis' shoulder and wouldn't stop squirming around, making it quite difficult for Louis to hold onto him.

“I'm only gonna be gone for a couple of weeks, you know,” I said, one hand on Louis' waist and the other one on Aidan's back.

“I haven't not seen you for that long since... I don't even know when,” he said thickly, “And Aidan's never been without you for more than a few hours. He's gonna be hysterical.”

“You're gonna be fine,” I chuckled, “And I doubt Aidan's gonna know whether it's me or you who's feeding him and cuddling him.”

He sent me a dirty glare. “Of course he's gonna know. Babies know that kind of stuff.”

It seemed like he was right in a way, because after I'd said my goodbyes to Aidan and told him to be good, I handed him back over to Louis, only to have him start crying. Loudly. That again caused Louis to cry harder, and it took at least half an hour before he would let go of me to let me get in the car and drive off.

As it turned out, being away from them wasn't much fun. At all. I even wound up crying while I was on the phone with Lou one night. He was telling me about his day with Aidan, how he'd squealed in joy when mum had held him up by his arms, his feet to the floor, giving him the illusion that he could walk, and a feeling of complete and utter loneliness filled me from head to toe. It felt a bit like I was missing out.

I went back home at the end of the month, just in time to accompany Louis when he went to the hospital to have the x-rays of his... well, whatever the hell it was, performed. He didn't seem particularly fazed at all, just went along with everything they told him with a smile and a nod. Knowing him, the calm appearance was probably real – faking feelings wasn't really one of his strong suits.

By the time the results of the photos came, we were nearing Christmas, and I was back in Manchester, busy preparing for my first semester-exams.

“We won't be having any condomless sex any time soon,” was what Louis said the very second I picked up my phone and accepted the incoming call.

I blinked. “Why?”

“Because according to the results of the x-rays, chances are I'll end up pregnant again, because I do indeed have a bloody uterus up my ass, and as much as I love Aidan, I'd rather not have that happen right now.”