Chapter Text
Liam. This was all Liam’s fucking fault, Louis thought as he heaved up the contents of his stomach into the toilet for the second time that day. Okay, so technically it wasn’t his fault that Louis might be pregnant – that honor most definitely belonged to Harry. But the possibility hadn’t even occurred to him until Liam brought it up after a far too greasy, far too early breakfast a few mornings ago that had incited a particularly brutal bout of illness.
But after the word had slipped out, it was all he could fucking think about. He had an article to write, damnit, but every time he tried to focus, his mind was plagued with the sounds of screaming infants, the smell of foul diapers, and the image of his perfectly toned stomach unnaturally stretched beyond repair.
He retched again.
“Not gonna get any work done like this,” he moaned into the toiled bowl, slowly getting to his feet and tidying up both the bathroom and himself. When he returned to the living room, Louis grabbed his phone to text Liam.
Fine – I’ll take the damn test. But you’re buyin’.
It was only a few seconds before his phone buzzed with a reply.
I’ll be over in a few. Then, a few seconds later, Louis felt another vibration. Don’t be scared – whatever happens, it’ll work out.
Louis frowned down at his phone; he both loved and hated the fact that his best friend knew him so well. It’s not that Louis didn’t want kids… he just didn’t want them now. Or anytime in the near future. Or. Hell, maybe he didn’t want kids? At least he didn’t until he learned how much Harry wanted them. As much as the boy tried to hide this desire from Louis, bless him, it was obvious. By the way one corner of Harry’s mouth tugged up whenever they saw a little boy on the swing set when they walked through the park. By the way he lifted his little pinky and sipped delicately from the empty teacup when they babysat his next door neighbor’s daughter. By the way his face lit up and he squealed with excitement anytime one of their friends announced they were expecting.
These memories calmed his racing thoughts. Even if Louis wasn’t ready for a baby, Harry seemed to be. So when Liam’s soft knock came from the door, Louis was surprised that he had actually started to doze off. In the middle of panicking. In the middle of uncertainty. In the middle of something that could change his entire life.
He smiled. Only Harry had that effect on him.
“Here you go, mate.” Liam handed off the bag and lingered by the door, unsure whether he was welcome to stay and find out the results right then and there.
Liam was practically vibrating with anticipation and Louis chuckled. “Come in, then,” he said, leaving the door ajar as he made his way back to the bathroom.
He had been nervously chugging water all day, both because he couldn’t seem to eat anything and, because despite not being able to eat anything he still needed something to throw up. So he was full to bursting when showtime came; hell, he could’ve taken a hundred pregnancy tests with the current state of his bladder.
Once the sample was provided, Louis set it on the counter and took the opportunity to relieve himself of the rest. By the time he was done and washed his hands, the timer on his phone had already gone off. His heart hammered inside his chest, having almost nothing to do with being startled by the unexpected beeping.
This was it.
He had never been so nervous about anything in his entire life. His hands were shaking as he reached for the white stick, and he just wanted his boyfriend’s arms around him to hold him steady, to tell him that he loved him and would be there for him and would understand and support and—
Not Pregnant.
Louis blinked in rapid succession. He squeezed his eyes shut until they burned, then opened them wide, and when they had adjusted back to the light he looked again.
Not Pregnant.
Louis set the test down and put his face in his hands. He laughed once, then again, then ran his hands over his face and let out a long-suffering groan. He looked at himself in the mirror and shook his head at his own reflection; he looked like a proper wreck. When he opened the door, he nearly ran smack dab into Liam, who was hovering just outside the threshold.
“Fuck, Li, give a guy some space, yeah?”
“Well?” he questioned, not bothering to apologize.
“Negative,” Louis said, stepping around Liam’s broad form. “You prick,” he added for good measure.
“Negative?” Liam had been pretty sure; he wouldn’t have brought up the sensitive issue with his best friend if he wasn’t. “Are you sure?”
“I know you think I’m a child, but I can read.” Liam had shelled out for the nice digital test rather than the ambiguous one with lines and crosses, so it would have been damn near impossible for Louis to misinterpret the results. “See for yourself.”
Liam rushed into the bathroom and frowned down at the test. “Not pregnant.”
“Told ya,” Louis sighed in relief as he plopped down on the couch. All this worry and anxiety and the fact that he must actually be coming down with something made him exhausted.
“Well, at least now you know for sure,” Liam rationalized, replacing the used test on the counter. “You’re welcome.”
“You don’t deserve thanks because you scared the shit out of me. For no reason, I might add,” Louis huffed from the couch, eyes closed.
“Are you gonna tell him?”
“Tell who?”
“Harry.”
Louis snorted. “Tell him what? That nothing is any different than when I saw him last, two nights ago?”
“Louis –“
“What, Liam? What?”
“You can’t keep, you know, keeping things from him.”
Louis sat up from his comfortably reclined position in order to better scowl at the man standing in front of him. “I know I have a bit of an emotional intimacy problem – something that the both of you have told me repeatedly over the years. But there is literally nothing to tell here.”
Liam took a seat beside Louis on the couch, close enough that their bodies sank together in the middle, and placed an affectionate hand on Louis’ knee. “I know you, Louis. You freaked out when I mentioned the ‘p’ word. I bet your nails are bitten down to nubs.” Louis shifted, choosing to sit on his hands rather than prove Liam right. “You’ve been making yourself sick with worry for days, and Harry probably has no idea; in fact, you’ve probably been ignoring him this whole time instead of letting him be a part of this with you.”
“There is no ‘this’,” Louis reminded him, though with less fire than before. Okay, he was starting to feel a little guilty; honestly, he hadn’t even thought to talk to Harry about it until he knew for sure.
Liam sighed. “By ‘this’ I don’t just mean a baby, Lou.” Louis freed one of his hands and again began gnawing at the raw flesh. “Are you ever gonna let that boy love you the way he wants to? The way you deserve to be loved?”
At this, Louis’ eyes began to sting and— no. No, he was not going to get into this right now. Everyone was always telling him what he should want and have and they just didn’t understand. He was trying. He had known Liam for over half his life, and it had taken years to build up a trusting friendship. It was a damn miracle that Harry had found his way so deeply into his heart after only three.
“We love each other just fine, thank you. Not that it’s any of your damn business,” he grumbled more quietly, springing from the couch and making his way toward the door. “And which we are going to be doing a lot of later tonight. So. You’d best be going.”
It wasn’t a question, and Liam accepted the dismissal with a reserved sadness. “Take care, mate.” He pulled Louis into a hug on his way by, lingering just long enough for the remainder of Louis’ agitation to dissipate.
When Liam left, Louis had every intention of getting ready for his date, he really did. But as soon as he slid open the door to his closet, his brain fogged and his head began to hurt. Why did he have so many clothes? More importantly, why did he have so many clothes, and still had nothing he wanted to wear?
“Ugh.” He slammed the door shut with a disgusted sigh and threw himself onto the bed in exasperation. He tried valiantly to mentally pick out an outfit, sorting through his various band t-shirts and blazers in his mind, but his thoughts inevitably meandered and soon he found himself in the throes of a very deep and satisfying afternoon nap.
That afternoon must have turned into an evening nap, which he realized when he was awoken by the swift clap of his front door closing.
“Lou? You ready?” Harry called from the entranceway.
Louis rolled his heavy head to the side and glanced at the clock – 6:56. Shit. The time should have been enough to rouse him from the bed, but instead it just made him more tired. He was a mess and the amount of effort it would take to make him look presentable next to his sex god boyfriend seemed insurmountable, so instead he opted to snatch another pillow and stuff it under his head to make himself even more comfortable.
“Babe?” Harry questioned again, ducking his head into the bedroom when Louis was nowhere else to be found. “Babe…” The word was an admonishment, though tinged with affection; this was not the first time this had happened. Harry crawled onto the bed and snuggled behind his boyfriend, tugging his body against his chest and nuzzling his nose into his untamed fringe. “Do you need me to wake you up?” he purred, nipping lightly at Louis’ ear.
“Mmm, at least buy me dinner first,” he mumbled sleepily.
“That was the plan, if you remember.” He slid his hand down Louis’ stomach, going low enough to stimulate but staying high enough just to tease. “I am quite hungry.” His strokes became quicker and harder, and Louis’ answering moan was enough to let him know that his ministrations were having their intended effect. One way or another, Harry was going to be satiated tonight.
“Harry,” Louis complained, equal parts exhausted and nauseous and, well, aroused. He wasn’t quite sure which was most prominent at the moment. Harry’s lips were already making their way into the crook of Louis’ neck, and he stretched his head back, opening himself up out of habit. “Harry,” he said again, this time a little more desperate. He really wasn’t sure he was up for the sheer physical exertion that making love to Harry tended to require, but if he didn’t intervene soon he might not be strong enough to stop himself.
“Hmm?” Harry hummed into his neck, and god did it feel good.
“Harry, stop.”
Harry stilled and pulled away, pushing himself up onto one elbow and really looking at Louis for the first time. “What’s wrong?” Physical intimacy had been a slow process between them, and there were a lot of starts and stops, but that hadn’t happened for some time, and he started to wonder if he’d done something to make Louis upset.
“Don’t feel good,” Louis mumbled into the pillow.
Harry laid back down and pulled him close again, this time settling for a chaste cuddle. “What can I do?”
“What you’re currently doing is nice.” Louis wiggled his bum closer against Harry’s groin and pulled his arms tighter around his waist. “Keep doing that.” Harry kicked off his shoes and placed a gentle kiss on the crown of Louis’ head as the soft snores started escaping steadily from his mouth.
It was not long into their early bedtime before nature called and Harry slipped out of his lover’s bed. He marveled at the beautiful man that fit so perfectly in the space between his arms. It had taken so long for Louis to open up to him, and there seemed to be more hard days than easy ones as of late, but every second had been worth it just to have moments like this.
Harry shuffled to the bathroom and rubbed the sleep from his eyes; he had just started to undo his zipper when something by the sink that wasn’t any of the usual toiletries caught his eye. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the light, so when he flicked switch it took a few seconds to adjust before his heart damn near stopped. He didn’t have any experience with them personally, but anyone would know exactly what it was.
Was Louis pregnant? Were they going to have a baby? Was Harry going to be a dad?
He picked up the test, but the screen was blank. Harry rummaged through the trash and speed-read through the instructions; the digital display timed out after several hours. Louis must have taken it before Harry even got there, but… why didn’t he say anything?
Harry tossed the packaging back in the trash, the unreadable device still clutched in his hand. He didn’t know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do, which was race into the other room, pounce on his unsuspecting boyfriend, and demand the truth immediately. However, pushing Louis into doing something he wasn’t ready for was something Harry promised himself he would never do, not knowing what he knew about Louis’ past.
Still, it hurt more than he cared to admit that Louis hadn’t even mentioned it.
If he went back into the bedroom, he would not have been able to stop himself from waking Louis up, or at the very least yanking up his shirt and exploring his tummy for any signs of life buried within… which would also probably end up waking him up. So instead he opted for sinking down into the well-worn couch, placing the test on the coffee table and continuing to stare at it like the results might somehow magically reappear.
Hours passed, and as each one slipped by Harry found himself getting more and more upset. The not knowing was awful, torturous even, but more than that he felt betrayed. He had worked so hard to earn Louis’ trust, to tear down the impenetrable walls surrounding his heart piece by piece and with sheer force of will because he knew it would be worth it. And after all this time, he had convinced himself that he’d finally done it, that he’d finally gotten to a place where Louis didn’t feel the need to keep secrets from him.
But he was wrong.
A few tears slipped out of the corner of his eyes, but they weren’t of frustration or anger or even possibly joy. Harry was so overwhelmed with sadness, convinced deep in his soul that the relationship he’d fought so hard for was fractured, that they were two pieces of a heart that would never be made whole.
The first thing Louis noticed was the cold; he reached a hand behind him, but the body that usually acted as his heated blanket was nowhere to be found. With only a slight grumble of disappointment, he rolled himself over the side of the bed and stumbled toward the door. There was a soft light coming from the living room and he scuttled over to find a very distressed Harry sitting on the couch, elbows on his thighs and hands clasped together supporting his chin.
“Harry?” His voice was raw and crackled with the remnants of sleep. Harry took a few deep breaths, and Louis wondered if maybe he hadn’t heard him. “Haz?”
“Were you even going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” It was then that Louis followed his boyfriend’s gaze to the object on the coffee table. Shit. Dumbass Liam must have left it out on the counter when he left. Shitshitshit. “Harry, I –“
“Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Pregnant, Louis, are you pregnant?” Harry tried to keep his voice level, but the words were fueled by his building frustration and a hint of hysteria and came out harsher than intended.
“What? No. Doesn’t it—doesn’t it say that?” In answer, Harry tossed him the test; it was, indeed, blank. “Ah, shit, Haz, I’m sorry. I didn’t… well, you weren’t supposed to see that.”
“So you weren’t going to tell me then?” It was as Harry feared; Louis was still shutting him out.
“Fuck, you sound just like Liam – there’s nothing to tell, yeah?”
“Liam? Liam knows?” Somehow that was another slap to the face, another person that was closer to Louis than he was.
“’Course he does; he’s the one who put the stupid idea in my head when he saw me turning my guts inside out the other day. I told him he was out of his mind, but was happy to let him spend his own money on a test just to prove himself wrong.” Louis shrugged and rolled his eyes; maybe he was still a little pissed at Liam for working him up into a tizzy, and certainly now for unnecessarily dragging Harry into this mess.
“You were sick.” This, too, was news to Harry. “You were sick and Liam thought you might be pregnant, and then you thought you might be pregnant.”
“But I’m not.”
“And Liam bought you a pregnancy test, and –“ Harry paused and actually looked at Louis then. “Was he here? When you took it, was he here with you?”
Louis didn’t know why he was looking at him like that, why he sounded so broken, and he didn’t know which answer was the one Harry needed to hear. “Y-yeah, Liam stayed while I took it.” Harry nodded, more to himself than to Louis; when he didn’t speak, Louis sat on the coffee table so that they were face to face. “I would have told you if it had been positive.”
“Would you, though?”
The words were soft, and Louis wasn’t even sure if he was meant to have heard them. “What?”
Harry’s gaze locked onto his again, sharp and narrow. “Would you have told me if you were pregnant?”
“How –“
“Or would you have just dealt with it like you deal with everything – on your own and without talking to anyone else about it?” Without talking to him about it, at least.
“What do you mean?”
Harry stood up then, too agitated to remain in one spot, and began pacing the length of the couch. “I know how you feel about having kids. Since you didn’t feel the need to include me in, I dunno, what could be the most important moment of our lives, maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to include me in deciding what to do about it.”
“But, but there’s nothing… there’s no baby!” Louis was beyond confused at how things had escalated this quickly.
Harry halted and spun around, his face a mask of horror as a thought occurred to him. “Have you… is this –“ He clenched his jaw and swallowed thickly before continued. “Have you been pregnant before?” Louis just stared at him dumbly. “Tell me the truth – have you… have you ever had an abortion without telling me?” He knew it wasn’t fair, and regretted asking when the hurt flashed across Louis’ face. Fear and anger had smothered the more rational part of his brain that should have told him to hold his tongue, but the fact that he even had to ask was devastating.
Louis actually backed away a few steps. “How- how could you even ask me that?”
“Please. Please, tell me the truth.” Harry’s words were barely a whisper.
“No. No, of course not. Why would you –“
“I need to go.”
“What? No.” Louis followed as Harry made his way toward the door. “Harry, wait!” he called, pulling at his arm as he yanked at the handle.
“Please let me go.” The words were soft and calm, but pleading, and Louis obliged.
“Can’t we talk about this?” Louis managed to get out between sniffs.
“I need… I need some time.” He still wouldn’t look at Louis, but paused in his stride long enough to say, “I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”
And just like that, Harry Styles was out of his apartment. Possibly out of his life. Louis collapsed to the floor as his whole world collapsed around him.
It was a solid week of silence – well, Harry was silent; Louis was a loud, weepy, whiny mess, and Liam, god help him, took the brunt of it.
“Thank god. I couldn’t stand listening to you blabber on for one more day,” Liam groaned when Harry finally texted saying that he would come round that night.
“You didn’t have to stay, you know.”
“What, and let you starve to death? I’m sure you’d find a way to pester me about that incessantly, even if you were dead.”
“Damn right I would haunt your ass for letting such a gift to humanity die so tragically young.”
“Hmph,” Liam grumbled. He knew Louis’ bravado was just a façade that had masked his low self-esteem most of his life, and so didn’t particularly like hearing him say those kinds of things. “Want me to stick around for the main event?”
Louis spun around and narrowed his eyes. “Pretty sure your involvement was what got me into trouble in the first place.”
“And the fact that you didn’t take my excellent advice had absolutely nothing to do with it.”
“Not a damn thing.”
Louis shooed his best friend out the door a good hour before Harry was supposed to be there; he honestly wasn’t sure what Liam’s presence would do to the currently tenuous balance of their relationship, but he didn’t particularly want to find out.
It was still a few minutes before the scheduled time when he heard a knock, and Louis was fully prepared to give Liam an earful about being a meddling twat when he yanked open the door and –
Oh.
This wasn’t good. Harry had a key, and had been letting himself into Louis’ apartment since… well he couldn’t even remember the last time Harry had bothered to knock. So yeah, this was not good.
“Do you… want to come in?” It sounded like a weird question to ask, since Harry had practically been living there on and off for the better part of a year. He nodded, and followed Louis’ lead in taking a seat at the barstools arranged in a line at the kitchen counter. “How, uh, how are you? You look good.” Well, he looked a hell of a lot better than the night he’d run out of Louis’ apartment; but that wasn’t saying much. Harry was looking down at his clasped hands, the hair falling down over his face and obscuring his expression. “Do you forgive me?”
Harry looked up at that, and his resolve wavered; Louis looked so sweet and vulnerable and contrite. “Do you even know what you’re asking forgiveness for?” he asked with a sad smile.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about, well, any of it. Next time I throw up, I’ll text you before I even leave the bathroom, I swear. I didn’t – I’m just so fucking sorry.” Louis got up from his seat to brush the hair out of Harry’s face; he just wanted to be close to him, to touch him again, and couldn’t help that his hands trailed along his temples and around his jaw, or that his thumbs started brushing along his cheekbones.
Harry gently disengaged from Louis’ grasp and placed his arms back at his sides. “Louis –“
“Don’t.” Louis could see it, that look Harry was giving him; it was I love you and I’m hurting and I’m sorry all written into a soft smile with sad eyes that said more than words ever could. “Please don’t do this.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Lou, but…” He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Do what? What did I do?” The tears were welling in his eyes, but he bit them back. “How do I fix this?”
“This isn’t… this isn’t just about what happened the other night. It’s not just about one thing; it’s about a thousand little things. And it’s not your fault, I know. I know why you are the way you are.” Louis looked away, staring intently at the red stain in his white granite countertop, trying to contain the shame that always bubbled to the surface when his past was mentioned. “I love you, so much. But there are still times when it’s like I don’t know you at all, like you’re still hiding pieces of yourself from me.”
“But… but I’m not.”
Harry held up a finger. “I know you probably believe that, but it’s still how I feel. And it’s not… it’s not that you didn’t tell me about the baby. Or not baby,” he amended when Louis began to protest. “It’s why you didn’t tell me. I don’t think you trust me, not completely anyway. And I can’t –“ He grabbed Louis’ wrists desperately, as if begging him to understand. “I thought I was okay with it. I thought I could live with just having whatever parts of yourself that you shared with me because you’re that wonderful, you are. But I can’t. I can’t keep compromising; I can’t keep pretending. And I need –“ He scrunched his eyes tightly closed and blew out a shuddering breath. “I need you to let me go.” When he opened his eyes again, Louis was staring at him with a maddeningly unreadable expression. “Will you do that? Will you let me go?”
Fuck.
Louis didn’t know what to say. He sure as hell didn’t want to let Harry go. He wanted to tell him that he was everything, his whole world. That he would fall apart and end up a blubbery useless puddle on the floor if he walked out that door.
But that’s when the little voice inside his head, the one that had been darkening his thoughts and suffocating him with self-loathing since he was a kid, quietly reminded him that he was nothing special, that he was worthless and broken, and most importantly, that Harry was good and perfect and deserved the world.
So he did the only thing he could do in that moment; he nodded. His whole body was numb as Harry wept and hugged him and thanked him and kissed him goodbye; and when Harry walked out the door for the last time, he took whatever pieces that were left of Louis’ heart with him.