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"C'mon, Lou," Jay sings, hoping Louis will follow behind.
Of course two year old Louis follows his mother, and even tries to pick up his pace. After all, his best friend Gemma is inside! He wants to play with Gemma.
Gemma's mum, Anne, opens the door with a smile on her face. Louis runs in immediately, into the living room where he knows Gemma is. She's there as Louis predicted, and she shushes him immediately. Louis freezes, not knowing what he did. "Come see," she says softly.
Louis pads over and looks over the edge of the thing Gemma is looking into. There lays a tiny bundle in a blanket. Except it has a face. A very smiley and noisy face.
"That's Harry," Anne says. "Gemma's little brother, my baby boy."
Louis licks his lips and stares at this bundle. Apparently it's name is Harry. What a funny name, Louis thinks. "He looks funny."
Anne and Jay laugh.
Louis looks back at Harry.
"His skin is soft," Gemma says. "Feel."
The thing is so smushy and pink and tiny that Louis isn't even sure it's a person. That's what it is, right? A person. How could this pink squirmy thing be soft? Warily, Louis touches a tiny finger to Harry's even tinier hand. Harry's fingers wrap tight around Louis', making Louis jump a little. He didn't think that they could do that. Wow, okay.
"He likes you, Lou." Anne says softly, smiling widely.
You and I, two of a mind.
"Harry, come on!" Louis exclaims, running ahead.
"Wait, wait, wait," Harry repeats, trying to keep up.
Louis sighs, stopping and waiting for Harry to catch up. Instead his friends come to him. "What's taking so long?" Stan asks.
"Harry is kind of slow," Louis replies. "We can go-"
"Lou," Harry protests, grabbing Louis' hand.
This love's one of a kind.
"Fine. Hold my hand, but you have to keep up." Louis tells him.
Harry nods.
"How'd you end up with the baaaaby trailing you around?" Stan teases.
"M'not a baby!" Harry whines.
"He's not a baby," Louis agrees, just to make Harry happy. "And, we're friends."
. . .
"If you don't want to be late, you're going to have to walk faster Haz."
Harry picks up his pace and catches up to Louis, grabbing his hand.
"Are you scared?"
Harry shakes his head. "No."
As they get to the school, Harry stops dead in his tracks at the bottom of the stairs. "I'll hold your hand while we go in?" Louis offers. "I'll even walk with you to your class, Hazza. Sound good?"
Harry grins up at Louis. "Yes, Lou."
You and I, we're drifting over the edge.
"Louis," Harry says, putting his arms behind his head.
Louis hums, not looking up from where he's drawing a picture in his notebook.
"Since I turned nine a few months ago," Harry begins. "And you're eleven."
"Thank you for reminding me of our ages, Hazzabear."
"I'm being serious, Lou."
Louis sits up. "What?"
"Can we make a promise?"
He nods.
"Promise me that we'll be friends no matter what? We'll stay friends forever and ever and never let anything change it?"
Louis smiles. "Of course we will."
"Pinky promise."
"Haz we don't have to-"
Harry looks at him disapprovingly. "We do. Pinky promise me, boobear."
Louis rolls his eyes, extending his pinky towards Harry's.
And I will fall for you, and I will fall for you.
"Stop being a little shit," Harry groans, elbowing Louis out of the way.
"When'd you get such a nasty mouth on you, Hazza? Don't curse like that."
Harry rolls his eyes and elbows Louis out of the way. "Elbowing is unnecessary during Mario Kart. The sixteen-year-old shouldn't even be so competitive when it comes to this game."
"This game is my life."
"Not much of a life."
Later that night, when Harry's laying in his bed, tossing and turning and trying to get to sleep, he gets hit with a pillow. Louis must've thrown it from his place on the floor. "Stop moving around," he grumbles. "You're being annoying and I can't sleep."
"Sorry. Thinking a lot."
"About what?" Louis' voice sounds muffled, like he's got it shoved into the pillow, and Harry almost rolls his eyes at the fact that Louis couldn't even pick his head up to talk. Key word: almost.
Harry exhales shakily, and that makes Louis get up. He comes and sits on Harry's bed, forcing him to sit up as well. "I just... I dunno..."
"Spit it out, Haz."
"I can't just spit it out."
Louis frowns.
"I'm-I've been thinking a lot. Like, a lot. About... stuff. I want to tell you, want to be open with you. And I, um, I trust you. I trust you with anything, everything. But I just don't know how you'll, like, take this, react or whatever."
"Haz, you're scaring me. What is it?"
"I'm gay." Harry sobs out. And now he's literally sobbing. He's done a lot with Louis, in front of Louis, before. He's laughed so hard he's cried. Snorted chocolate milk out his nose. Tripped up the stairs, fell down the stairs, slipped on ice and gave himself a concussion (that's why Louis gave up on ever teaching Harry to ice skate). He's yelled at Louis before, he's gotten mad at his mother in front of Louis before. He's showed Louis hundreds on his tests and failing marks on his tests. He's stressed over essays in front of Louis.
But he's never sobbed, not like this. Fourteen years he's been around Louis and he's never cried like this.
"I'm gay and I'm so scared because I don't want to get hurt."
Louis grabs Harry's hands in his own, because that's what makes them both feel comfortable, feel safe. "You're not going to get hurt, Haz. I won't let you get hurt."
Harry just cries harder.
"Harry, love, listen to me, look at me," Louis puts a hand on Harry's chin and makes him look up. "There's going to be people who aren't happy with it. But they're stupid and ignorant. All that matters is you. You and your happiness, okay? As long as you're happy, nothing else matters. Especially not the opinions of anybody else. Your happiness is the only thing that I care about, the only thing anybody should care about."
"So you don't care?" Harry sniffles, wanting to wipe his cheeks but also not wanting to move his hands from Louis'.
"Of course I don't care, Harry. God, you could tell me that you needed me to help you hide a body and I would do it with no hesitation, I wouldn't care. You could tell me that you're into girls or guys or my fucking mum and I wouldn't care. Well, maybe not." Louis says, laughing slightly.
If I fall for you, would you fall too?
Harry swallows, hard. "What if I told you that I was into a certain guy?" he asks, searching Louis' eyes.
"I wouldn't care. As long as he doesn't break your heart."
"He wouldn't dare." Harry chokes out, smiling. "He's nice, and funny, and sweet, and caring. He couldn't hurt me if he tried."
Louis smiles reassuringly. "You okay?"
Harry nods. "Thank you, Lou."
Harry falls asleep wondering how Louis didn't realize that he was the one Harry was talking about.
You and I learning to speak with kisses on cheeks.
"C'mon, Haz," Anne calls up the stairs. "Louis is waiting, and if we wanna take pictures then you might end up being late!"
"We don't have to take pictures!" Harry reminds as he comes down the stairs.
Louis tries to breathe, honestly he does. But Harry's just so... Harry. He's Harry, his Harry, breathtaking and beautiful and handsome and gorgeous and every single word there is in the book that describes someone's beauty, Louis can pin them all on Harry.
It's just a tux, really. Louis has seen Harry in a tux before. For Anne's wedding to Robin, Harry wore a tux. It's probably the occasion that's got Louis all flustered. The fact that they're going to prom, Louis is taking Harry to fucking prom.
And they're going to fuck afterwards, which is nice too. Louis' parents are purposely going out of town so that Louis can have the house. Seriously, isn't his mum fucking great? How amazing. Louis loves her so much. This is great.
"Yoohoo," Harry sings, snapping fingers in front of Louis' face. "I told you that your arse looked good in your pants."
"You always say that," Louis replies easily. "You look... amazing. Beautiful."
Harry smiles. "So do you." he says, kissing Louis' cheek.
Anne and Jay take an abundance of photos, all of which Louis is more willing to indulge than Harry is. Anne grabs Louis before he goes to join Harry in the car. "You take care of him, okay?" she says, tears welling up in her eyes. "That's my baby."
"He's my baby now too, Anne. Are you willing to share?"
She lets out a laugh to cover up a sob. "I'm serious, Louis Tomlinson. Take good care of him."
"I will. You know I will."
Prom flies by, Louis and Harry both dancing with their friends and together. That's Louis' favourite moments, when he's dancing with Harry on the dance floor. It's over too soon, but maybe it's because Louis is thinking about what's going on afterwards. They drive a bit too fast home, but its okay, because everything slows down as soon as they get to Louis' bedroom.
He kisses Harry slowly, calmly. Everything is slow and gentle and fuck, Harry loves Louis. Definitely. Louis' hands may be shaking while he opens the condom, but nobody outside of the two boys in the bedroom has to know that. He's about to take Harry's virginity, for Christ's sake, of course he's nervous. Any man in his right mind would be nervous.
He positions hands on either side of Harry's head so he can stare at Harry's beautiful, beautiful face while he fucks him. Slow, like everything else. Slow, like the way Harry learned to walk. Slow, like Louis had to go when Harry followed him around on the playground. Slow, like they walked into Harry's classroom on the first day of school. Slow, like how Louis would purposely drive his kart on Mario Kart so that Harry could win. Slow, the way Harry's starting to drive an actual car, Louis monitoring from the passenger seat (because, who else would Harry want to teach him to drive?). Slow like the way the cookies bake when they bake together, slow like the way they take Louis' sisters on their bikes. Everything is slow with Louis, gentle. The sex is slow, much like a lot of things.
But it's very much unlike the way Harry fell for Louis. Harry fell for Louis fast, like the speed of light or the beat on his favourite song. Fast like the way Louis drives his car, fast like the way Louis rides his bike when he's racing Harry home, fast like the way Louis' always racing to meet Harry outside the school. Fast, much like the way Harry fell for Louis. God, he fell so fast. So, so fast.
But, for right now, in this moment, he likes slow.
Harry warns Louis when he's close, and when he comes it's with gentle fingertips over Louis' face and a murmured 'i love you', and that makes Louis lose it too.
"Harry," he whispers, running a hand through Harry's curls while they lay tangled up in the sheets.
Harry hums, nuzzling further into Louis' chest.
"I love you too," he says.
You and I, we're lifted over the edge.
"Louis William Tomlinson," Harry says sternly.
"What is it, love?"
"What the hell are you doing?" Harry eyes the tiny black box that Louis pulls from his pocket.
"So, I don't remember meeting you for the first time. According to my mum, I was two, you were, like, ten days old. We went to visit, and I was so awed by you. Story goes that I said you looked funny, and, I mean, you still do," he cracks a huge grin. Maybe smiling can cover up the fact that he's going to cry. That'll do, Louis. That'll do. "And I never thought that we would be here. I never thought that I'd be running around the schoolyard with you, never thought I'd take you to prom, never thought I'd sleep with you on prom night. I didn't think I'd be giving you a promise ring, and I didn't think I'd be standing here now. But, then again, I can't picture myself with anybody else but you. We've been a part of each other and I can't stand thinking of you not being a part of me. I want everything with you, Harry. I want you. So, will you make me the absolute happiest guy in the world and let me have the honour of being my husband?"
Harry would say yes, but he's kind of sobbing too hard to speak. But he nods and says something along the lines of yes, and Louis slides the ring on his finger and everybody around them in the park claps and Harry kisses Louis senseless.
Would you fall too?
"She's so tiny," Harry whispers, tears in his eyes as he stares at his daughter laying on the bed in front of him.
"Tell me you're going to start crying again," Louis deadpans from the wardrobe. "She's been home for like ten hours and you've cried like ten times."
"Because we made it, Lou. The surrogate and everything, it worked. She's ours."
Valerie Hope Tomlinson, born just a day ago at eight pounds and seven ounces. The surrogate mother was a godsend, Louis and Harry couldn't have asked for anything more or anything less. Now they have this beautiful baby girl and rings on their fingers and baby things everywhere but they wouldn't have it any other way.
Valerie grabs at Harry's index finger, trying to get a good grip. "Her tiny hand barely wraps around my finger," he murmurs.
"She is kind of funny looking," Louis notes, kissing Harry's shoulder.
Harry laughs, choked up and teary. "It's been twenty four years, do we get to stop talking about that yet?"
"Never," Louis replies, kissing his shoulder again. "Love you so much, Hazza."
"I love you too, Lou."