Work Text:
Louis needs a bit of a wake up call.
He's always at work, overnight shifts at the hospital and watching over complicated surgeries. He remembers when he first got this job, spending a night working on a car crash victim. It was brutal, and they'd lost the patient right before they could get him on the operating table. Louis watched a coworker do chest compressions while they sped the guy down the hall, and he could feel that crack in his own chest.
He had to step out of the room after he died, a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was the first time he'd seen someone really die, like, up close. He went home afterward and hopped right into the shower, trying to scrub the guilt off of him. He was only in his final two years of med school, unable to actually do any surgeries, and it was hard to watch the life drain out of somebody like that.
Harry's always been there, ready to hold him when he gets home from work. Louis' gotten better at not freaking out when something goes wrong, but there are times where he just has to cry, lying in bed with Harry's comforting kisses and soft hold.
Harry's better than him. Louis' been busy for 14 years, working incredibly hard to get into med school and all his degrees and his actual job. By the time he gets home from work, he's exhausted, working 15 hour shifts four days a week. It's hard for him to even get his shoes off because he just wants to slip into bed and never get out.
So Harry's neglected. Louis tries not to think about that because he feels guilty. Harry's not used to texts or phone calls, or Louis surprising him with flowers just because. He's been upset with Louis for the last few days because he forgot their ten year anniversary, so caught up in work.
Louis' at work again, practically drowning in work tonight. He'd been called in in the middle of trying to apologize to Harry, and had left the house angry. He's never done that. That's always their number one rule.
He has two surgeries, the first an emergency. It's another victim of an accident, this time on a motorcycle. He can hear the patient's wife crying in the waiting room. That always hurts.
He's alive. Louis operates on him in quick succession and saves his life. He does that a lot, but he's reminiscing on the man that died four years ago and how he could actually help this time. He's the one that goes out to tell the wife that her husband's going to be fine, and she hugs him. She smells like strawberries, like Harry, and now he's thinking about Harry and how lonely he's been at home alone.
Here comes the guilt, bubbling up in his chest and making his eyes all teary. He has a fifteen minute break before the next surgery, and then he's done for the night.
He sits in the janitor's closet with his cell phone, needing peace and quiet, and dials Harry's number with a slightly shaky hand.
It rings three times, each one increasing Louis' worry that he won't pick up. But the line crackles and Harry's there, his soft, "Hello?" coming through the speaker.
"Hi," Louis twists his mouth, trying not to ramble. "Um... What are you doin'?"
"Laundry," the boy says. Louis closes his eyes and imagines him, sitting on the hardwood floor in the living room, folding their clothes. He misses him a lot, though they just saw each other a few hours ago.
Harry's still angry, he can tell by the sound of his voice and his one-word answers. Louis clears his throat. "I, uh..." he drifts off, staring at the mop in the corner. "Was just calling to tell you I love you."
Harry doesn't respond, but Louis hears his breath tremble a little like he might cry.
"I'm sorry," Louis says, knees curled up to his chest. "I'm sorry I forgot our anniversary, and I-I'm sorry I've been gone so much," his chest feels a little lighter just saying it.
"Are we gonna do something?" Harry asks, sniffling.
Louis furrows his eyebrows. "For our anniversary?"
"Yeah," his husband answers, and his breath comes out in a cry instead, starting to weep. "I don't need anything, I just want you home."
He only gets two weeks off for vacation every year, usually saved for their anniversary. "I would take you somewhere, but I already reserved my vacation for the summer."
Harry sniffles again, breaking Louis' heart. "'S fine," he imagines him shaking his head, done with the laundry.
"I have one more operation, okay? Then I'm coming home."
"Okay."
Louis smiles a little. "I can make dinner," he offers, even though it's going to be nine o'clock by the time he gets home. He hears Harry giggle through his tears, making him melt. "I'll think of something, okay, Baby? I will."
"I trust you," Harry's sheepish smile is evident through the phone. Strangers trust Louis with their lives every day, why shouldn't Harry?
He feels a little more at peace now, but still a little guilty for forgetting such an important thing. "Ten years," he murmurs, grinning. "Been married to you for ten years, we're getting old."
The other boy's still laughing, and the way the phone crackles signals that he's wiping his tears off of his blush-coated cheeks. "I'm twenty-nine," he replies.
"You hush," Louis warns in his faux mean voice, looking down at his green Crocs. He glances at his watch with a frown. "I gotta go, Hazza. I love you, and I'm gonna make it up to you, I promise."
Harry says, "I love you, Hubby," and Louis can feel butterflies in his stomach. "Good luck. I'll see you."
"Okay," he really doesn't want to hang up the phone. He wants to go home and kiss Harry all over. "Bye, H, I love you."
"You just said that," Harry giggles.
"I can't say it enough."