Work Text:
Louis steps into their dining room, loosening his tie as he takes in the scene. Harry is sitting at the table, candles nearly burned down, and a lasagna in the centre. The air smells sour and Louis can feel the thick tension.
"Hi, baby," Louis greets softly, walking toward Harry to kiss his cheek, but Harry leans away, his expression closed off.
"You're late," Harry says, his voice cold, eyes fixed on the candles.
Louis straightens, guilt settling in. "I know, pup. I’m sorry, but we finally—"
"I don’t care." Harry’s voice cuts through Louis's explanation, sharp with frustration. "I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore, Louis. I'm tired of them. You said you'd be home by six, and you weren't."
Louis sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I know, and I'm sorry. But we had a breakthrough at work and—"
"I said I don’t care," Harry interrupts again, this time louder. He stands up from the table, his arms crossed tightly. "You always have a reason, Louis. Every time. And every time, I'm here, waiting, like a stupid fool. Do you even know how that feels?"
Louis steps back, feeling the weight of Harry's words. "Harry, I didn’t mean to—"
"But you did." Harry’s voice cracks, the anger fading into hurt. "You did mean to, Louis. Every time you choose work over me, over us , you make that choice." His hand instinctively moves over his swollen belly, a protective gesture that makes Louis’s chest tighten.
“I love our life," Harry continues, voice trembling. "But I want you to be in it too. I’m here, all day, every day. I get that work is hectic, that sometimes you need to stay longer, but you’re the goddamn CEO, Louis. You make the rules."
His eyes narrow slightly. "You didn’t even bother to send a message. At first, I was worried—terrified something had happened to you. And then…" His voice drops, thick with emotion. "Then I thought, maybe you're with someone else. Maybe I’m not good enough anymore. Is that it? Have you been fucking someone else this whole time now?” Tears gather in Harry’s eyes, his voice breaking on the last words.
Louis shakes his head urgently. "No, Harry. Fuck no." His voice is desperate, laced with guilt. "I’d never, baby, I love you. I love both of you so fucking much. Harry, please. Believe me." He steps closer, trying to reach out, but Harry takes a step back, keeping the distance between them.
“I love you, omega,” Louis pleads, his voice softening as he watches Harry’s tears spill over.
“You asked me to stop working and I agreed,” Harry says, voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t mind being at home. I love taking care of this house–taking care of our home . I love tending to the garden, I love cooking for you. I’m proud to be the one carrying your pups, but all I ask is that you be here. That, for once, you choose me over work. Please, let it once be me." He wipes at his eyes, but the tears keep coming. "This stress… it’s not good for me and the pup, Louis. The second guessing, the constant worrying. You say you love me, you say you’re sorry—but that’s all it ever is. Empty words."
Harry’s voice cracks again, full of raw emotion. "For once, let there be actions. Show me you want this. Show me you want me .”
Seeing Harry break down in front of him, full-on crying now, shatters Louis. He steps forward, desperate to reach out, but Harry pulls away again.
“I swear I will, baby," Louis says, his voice tight. "I just had to finish—”
“I don’t want your excuses!” Harry snaps, voice rising.
“Just let me talk!” Louis growls in frustration, louder than he means to, and it startles them both. Harry’s eyes widen before he storms off, leaving Louis standing there, helpless, as the bedroom door slams shut.
He closes his eyes, taking a shaky breath, the weight of his mistakes crashing down on him. He knows he’s been neglecting Harry. He knows he’s spent more time buried in work than at home, and even though it was all for a reason—so he could take the last months of Harry’s pregnancy off, be there for the final stretch and beyond—it doesn’t change the fact that he never told Harry. He thought he’d tell him tonight, share that he'd arranged to be home for the last trimester and the first few months after their pup was born.
It's his fault really, for not communicating it earlier with Harry because he knows, if he did, the omega would have understood. But Louis fucked up again and again and now he is presented with the fear of loosing the only good thing he has in his life. Losing the love of his life, his sunshine, his family.
He doesn't even try to hold back the tears that well up in his eyes as he sinks down at his usual spot at the table, staring at the cold lasagna that Harry had spent hours preparing. He doesn’t bother heating it up—he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. But even cold, it tastes incredible, and he helps himself to a second serving, though each bite feels like a painful reminder of just how badly he’s failed Harry. The food, like everything else Harry does, is filled with love, and that knowledge only makes the guilt weigh heavier in his chest.
He downs half a bottle of wine before crashing on the sofa, giving Harry his space.
☁︎
Harry lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. He never sleeps well without Louis by his side, but ever since the pregnancy, it’s become unbearable. He shifts under the covers, his hand instinctively resting on his swollen belly, the only warmth and comfort in Louis’s absence. He knows he’s always been a bit needy—maybe more so than other omegas—but the pregnancy has amplified everything. His emotions, his need for comfort, for reassurance. For his alpha.
Tears prick his eyes again as he thinks about their fight. He hates arguing with Louis, and tonight had spiralled out of control faster than he could manage. It wasn’t just the anger, it was the fear. The fear that Louis didn’t care anymore, that work mattered more to him than their family. The idea that maybe Louis wasn’t coming home tonight had gnawed at him, turning his thoughts darker and more desperate with every passing minute. He had waited for hours, growing more anxious and upset with each tick of the clock, his mind running wild.
A soft sob escapes him as he curls further into himself, feeling utterly alone. He wants Louis. Needs him. His scent, his presence, that raspy voice whispering to their pup in the sweetest way while he rubs oil into Harry's stomach. But tonight, that comfort feels miles away.
He had to rub the oil onto his belly by himself, and with each stroke, sobs broke from his chest, muffled only by the wrist he was pressing over his mouth.
Tears slip down his cheeks now, as he wipes his face with the back of his hand, trying to push away the overwhelming sadness, but the thoughts cling to him, dragging him deeper into despair.
The truth is, no matter how angry or hurt he feels, Harry craves Louis’ touch, his warmth and his love. He misses the way Louis always holds him close at night, whispering sweet words until he drifts off to sleep. The gentle kisses on his forehead, those little gestures that make Harry feel so loved and cherished.
But the worst part is, tonight Louis didn’t come to bed. He always does, no matter how bad the fight, no matter the distance between them. Louis always comes to bed. But not tonight.
Harry curls in on himself, feeling abandoned, an ache settling deep in his chest. He misses Louis, his alpha. The familiar scent that usually surrounds him now feels faint and far away.
He glances at the clock—two a.m. With a sigh, Harry wipes at the tears streaming down his face and slowly shuffles out of bed. The room feels colder without Louis in it. He opens the door quietly, his steps careful and soft as he makes his way downstairs, making sure he doesn’t trip in the dim light of the house.
There are no TV sounds coming from the living room, just the heavy quiet that settles in during the early hours of the night. Harry tiptoes into the kitchen first, heading to the glass door that leads into the garden. Maybe Louis is outside, sitting in the moonlight like he sometimes does when he needs to clear his head. But when Harry peers out into the darkness, there’s no sign of him.
Swallowing down the disappointment, he turns and walks toward the living room, his footsteps barely a whisper on the floor. He sniffs, wiping his face again, as he rounds the corner.
And then he sees Louis. His alpha is sprawled out on the sofa, still in his work clothes, fast asleep. The sight hits Harry like a wave—his chest tightens, and his throat feels thick with unshed tears. Louis looks exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, his tie still loosely hanging around his neck.
Harry rubs his belly as he makes his way to his alpha, the ache of missing him too much to bear. Carefully, he lays down beside Louis on the sofa, and Louis’ arms immediately wind around his waist, holding him tight and secure, like a lifeline.
“Pup?” Louis murmurs, his voice raspy with sleep. It’s enough to make Harry break down again, fresh tears spilling from his eyes.
“Does this mean I’m invited back to bed?” Louis asks softly, as Harry nuzzles closer, pressing his face into his alpha’s neck, desperately licking at his bond mark to scent him, to ground himself too.
“Hey baby, shh… shhh, it’s okay, my love,” Louis soothes, but Harry just shakes his head, his body trembling.
“Y-you didn’t come to bed,” Harry sobs, his voice broken. “Do you… do you not want me anymore? Because I always want you. I always need you.”
Louis' heart clenches painfully at the sound of Harry’s distress. “Me too, baby, me too. I thought you didn’t want me there. I wanted to give you your space.”
“I don’t want space from you, alpha,” Harry cries, clutching Louis tighter. “I never do. I need you.”
“I’m here, baby,” Louis whispers, pulling Harry even closer, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here, and I will be here. I promise you, I’m not going anywhere.”
Harry’s voice wavers as he whines softly, “I love you. I love you so much.”
Louis feels his heart swell with overwhelming love. “I love you more, baby. You’re everything to me,” he promises, carefully manoeuvring Harry onto his other side so that he’s now nestled securely between Louis and the back of the sofa, not teetering on the edge anymore. Louis wraps a blanket snugly around him, making sure Harry feels cocooned, safe, and warm. His hand gently strokes Harry’s belly in soothing circles while his other hand plays with Harry’s hair, calming him with every touch.
“Sleep, little love,” Louis murmurs softly, his voice a gentle hum as he peppers Harry’s tear-streaked face with tender kisses. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m right here.”
With Louis’ reassuring touch and his gentle words, Harry lets his eyes close, finally allowing sleep to take him, knowing that everything will be okay as long as he'll have Louis by his side.
fin