Wheels Within Wheels (Larry Stylinson AU Mpreg)

Chapter Fifteen

LOUIS' POV

Last night Harry had been acting pretty strange when I stayed the night with him. He was nice; too nice, and he looked quite depressed when he thought I wasn't watching. It upset me, both because seeing him so broken looking hurts me and also because I know that he isn't telling me something. It isn't just sadness etched into his beautiful features, guilt accompanied the sorrow. Guitly was something I got used to seeing on Harry's face.

I woke up the next morning sprawled out on the couch to the sound of a screetching tea-kettle. After stretching, I lazily stumbled into the next room to find Harry pouring the steaming liquid into two mugs. He glanced at me, a smirk crawling across his lips, "Good morning, Gorgeous,"

"Good morning," I responded while yawning. I slumped down into the wooden chair as he set a mug before me on the table. I picked it up, wincing at the temperature and blowing on it to cool it down. Harry spoke up.

"Considering the fact that Thomas is going to be here in a few short months, I think it's about time we went shopping for necessities."

I set my mug down and laced my fingers round it, "I think we should figure out where he's going to stay before we do anything else. I haven't got any room in my dorm for him,"

"I'll rearrange the guest bedroom for him until one of us gets a proper home."

I scoffed, "More like you, posh boy. I'm nineteen and poor."

Harry grumbled, "I'm not posh."

I simpered at him, arguing, "You're so posh. What part of England are you from?"

He shifted in his chair, "Cheshire,"

I pursed my lips together, stifling a laugh. "Not posh at all,"

"Nope," He agreed, smiling. "Are you hungry?"

I lifted an eyebrow, "Yes, but please don't try to cook anything. Ever again,"

Harry chuckled deeply, "You set one kitchen on fire and you lose all credibility."

I stood to my feet, "I'll show you how it's done, Poshy."

He trailed behind me, murmuring protests to the nick-name I had granted him. I ordered him to get me things to cook with and he refused to do so until I 'asked nicely'. Eventually, I had a frying pan, some eggs, bacon, and pancake mix.

"If you're going to be a proper daddy you've got to at least know how to make pancakes," I told Harry, pouring the batter into a large bowl.

Harry rolled up the sleeves of his flannel, "Teach me your ways, Mummy."

I chuckled sarcastically and peered at his large hands. "Rings off,"

He obliged and removed the numerous rings that adornded his long fingers, tossing them onto the counter. "Wash your hands," I commanded.

Harry lifted an eyebrow at me, "Why?"

I glared back at him in disbelief, "What the hell do you mean 'why'?"

"Well, I didn't just wank myself, so why do I need to wash them?"

"So you have clean hands touching the food, you absolute idiot,"

"They are clean."

I shook my head, "They aren't clean,"

"Yeah they are; I haven't done anything that would require me to wash them."

"They're pseudo clean."

"They're not pseudo,"

"Go wash your hands, for my sanity sake," I raised my voice, chuckling at his ridiculousness.