No Denouements

That was the best and worst sound he’d ever heard and he groaned, turning his face into Harry’s shoulder and pulling him down closer. “Harry,” he begged, tilting his hips upward, chasing every inch. “Please.” He was close, so close, and Harry was the best and only person ever allowed to take him to that point. And he knew that since it had been so long since they’d had sex, Harry had to be close, too. 

Sometimes it was rough and quick, trying to expel as much energy as possible. Sometimes it was like a marathon, pacing it out in hills and valleys, not letting any one moment steal the thunder. And sometimes it was so sweet Louis thought it physically hurt. This man loved him way more than he deserved. He turned his face into the pillow to try and hide his stupid grin. Why couldn’t they have done it doggy when Harry would never be able to see his embarrassing faces? Maybe he could distract Harry. He squeezed around his boyfriend, heels digging into the man’s lower back.

Yes, actually, it was always a surprise. He could only smile at the comment though, nosing at Harry’s jaw as they slid together in a perfect fit. He was adjusting now, the muscles in his lower back loosening up. To answer Harry’s question he hooked a leg over Harry’s back, urging him in deeper, the thrill traveling all the way up until a blush spread across his chest. Yes, it felt very, very good. And Harry didn’t need to get a big head about it, either.

The stretch was his favorite part. It took his breath away and had him clinging to Harry with white knuckles for a second, and then it felt so so good. He exhaled, planting a kiss on Harry’s cheek and then his jaw, and then his mouth. “You’ve been holding out on me,” he whispered with a laugh, nudging his hips down ever so slightly. It always surprised him how big Harry was, but never in a bad way. The gift that kept on giving. 

He sighed dramatically, as if rolling into his back was the worst inconvenience he’d ever had to suffer, but he obliged with a smile and inched his butt down the bed to be closer to Harry. “Jus’ thought you’d wanna see the goods,” he teased. His ass was his best feature and he was well aware. “Get a condom,” he reminded. They didn’t need any more babies, and if they ever did, Harry was for sure the one to have them.

They had the best baby ever, who always knew when to nod off and let his parents get a little weird. Plus Harry was just so damn adorable when he’d just woken up. It seemed like he was extra soft, extra sculpted, at the same time. “Exhausted. Let’s fuck.” He threw himself onto the bed in a heap, mostly out of tiredness, but also eagerness. “What d’ya say, spooning? Ass up?” he said, hiking his knees up and pressing his head into the pillow. Conveniently, these were also positions that allowed him to lay down and then easily transition into sleep mode once they were done, and that was no coincidence.

He was super tired and he knew Harry had to be as well, but like, were they ever too tired to fool around? That’s a negative, Ghost Rider. “I think Henrie would sleep better in his crib,” he said with a shit-eating grin, biting Harry’s shoulder just cause when Harry got too soppy, Lou liked to balance it out. “Kinda miss when we could sleep ‘til two on a Saturday. Worth it, though,” he said, throwing the blanket off. It really was worth the missed sleep. ‘It’ being Henrie of course, but also the fact that they frequently chose to forgo an extra hour of sleep to revisit the act that produced Henrie in the first place.

“Baby, how d’you think you got knocked up?” he teased, and kissed Harry because he could. He was sad when Harry stole the baby (that was a thing they did to each other – swoop in and steal Henrie. Except never when he had a poopy diaper) but he just pulled the blanket over himself as well and curled up to Harry’s side. “Go in a little while, s’too early,” he said. Who went grocery shopping at 5 a.m. on a Saturday? Not his boyfriend. 

Sitting and admiring their baby was one of his favorite pastimes. He skimmed a thumb over Henrie’s sweet cheeks as he sucked away at his bottle. “Now you know how hard it is for me to look at your dimples,” he teased, turning his head to kiss Harry’s cheek, right over the dimple in question. “But call Anne, okay? Just to double check.” He really thought Henrie would be fine, but he wanted a professional’s opinion.

He wasn’t remotely surprised when he heard Harry padding out into the living room. He didn’t blame him - how could you sleep when you weren’t sure your little boy was okay? But he was. Henrie was okay. “Yeah, gave him some meds. Hes happier now that he’s eating. I bet he’s just warm from being in the big bed. You could ring your mum once it’s a normal hour? See what she thinks?” Henrie had never done anything that made them think he was sick before, so this was the first time he realized that he lacked his mum’s expert mother/medical knowledge to tap.

He blinked awake very begrudgingly at the sound of his own name, but he knew it was his turn to take Henrie anyway. After scooping him from Harry, he checked his head. “Dunno, maybe. I’ll give ‘m some infant Paracetamol and a bottle. G’back to bed,” he gruffed, hiking the duvet back over Harry as he tumbled out of bed with the boy. He mixed the liquid Paracetamol in with some formula and fed Henrie while watching the dawn newscast, though he wasn’t really processing much of it. Henrie seemed okay, just a bit fussy, but he knew Harry wouldn’t sleep for much longer anyway if he was worried about their baby.

Like Harry even needed to ask. Louis squeezed his boyfriend’s middle a little tighter, then gave Henrie’s tiny fist a kiss. “I’m tellin’ ya, we could get a one bedroom and a king sized bed and I’d be absolutely fine,” he laughed. He never would’ve pegged himself as the sort who welcomed the baby into the bed, but he actually loved falling asleep with the whole family there, and it was so easy to wake up and feed Henrie or change his diaper without having to go to another room. He just felt better when he could hear Henrie’s tiny breaths between his Papa’s heavy ones.

He felt instantly emptier when Harry left their little cocoon, but that was quickly mitigated when he returned with Louis’s favorite person in the world. Apparently all he needed was his pacifier and a cuddle to stop crying, and Louis curled up under Harry’s arm to hold both of them. His boys. “It’s bedtime now, Henrie,” he said, as if that line had ever worked on a newborn. He figured if Henrie could nod back off, they’d all hit the hay, but if he was going to be awake for awhile he’d take him and let Harry get some sleep. 

This was his best friend. Before the baby and the lease agreement and the joint Netflix account, Harry was just his best friend. He made everything infinitely better. Louis smiled into Harry’s neck and kissed him there, curling up into his chest and making their tangle of limbs even more knotted. “Love you,” he assured, taking in a big whiff of his boyfriend. He could probably go to sleep, now. Or even if he didn’t, he felt safe and calm. “Thanks.” He’d tried not to push Harry about all this because he knew his boyfriend had every right to be angry, but it still felt so good to have Harry be reassuring and sweet and validating when Louis was too proud to admit that was what he needed.

He didn’t mean to wound his sweet, sweet boy. He had such a gigantic heart and always wore it on his sleeve. He wriggled his hips, pushing into Harry’s touch, and turned his head to catch Harry’s cheek with his lips. This was who he got to spend his life with. The only shitty part of his life, the ONLY shitty part, was his job. And yeah now that that was gone it was going to be stressful, but he also just felt so lucky that he had so much more in his life than a minimum wage job. Hell, Harry and their baby WERE his life. Funny how that happened.

It wasn’t very nice to be touching him like that, getting him worked up, and also trying to pry a very important answer out of him. This was one of those things where he could say the exact right thing in the exact wrong, Louis, way. But it couldn’t be one of those things. He stole Harry’s hand off his chest and brought it to his mouth, kissing the knuckles. “Baby, one day I will propose to you, and it’ll be great and we both know you’ll cry, and you’re not stealing that moment from me at 3 A.M. when I’m newly unemployed.” No matter how cute he was or how hard he was, Harry wasn’t stealing the one thing that Louis had power over concerning their little family’s future.

That was supposed to terrify him, right? Like, send him into full blown panic like when Harry said he was pregnant? Like, disappear for multiple weeks or something? Maybe he was delirious from sleep deprivation or something, but all Harry’s comment did was settle that ball of anxiety in his stomach. “What for? Promise you don’t want any joint bank account.” Too, too lucky.