Work Text:
Louis surges forward, his arm shooting through the automatic elevator door on a reflex when he sees a familiar looking woman striding towards the elevator. She is holding a paper bag filled with groceries close to her chest, the recognisable logo of the closest grocery store emblazoned on the kraft paper.
She mumbles a quiet thanks to which Louis smiles, pressing the button to their floor. He would offer to help the older woman carry her groceries, if only he wasn’t holding the same paper bag as her. Somehow, they always manage to bump into each other on the way home from their weekly grocery shopping trips. Louis had bumped into her a week ago while he was locking his apartment door and the woman just arrived from her trip, and some two weeks ago, they both met at the vegetable aisle in the store.
“They had crazy sales for the dairy today,” Louis says, making small talk with the woman while waiting for the elevator to arrive on their floor.
The woman chuckles. “Yeah, it was supposed to be a light trip, but I ended up stocking up on almond milk today.”
Before Louis can conjure a reply, the elevator doors open, and Louis lets the woman walk out first.
"See you.” The woman gives him a curt nod in lieu of a wave because her hands are full.
Smiling, Louis replies the same.
Despite seeing the woman almost every other week, they haven’t managed to exchange more than a few words and Louis feels slightly bad for not knowing her name, given that she lives right beside his unit.
The unit was empty when Louis first moved in a year ago, and it was only two months ago that someone moved in. Although, when Louis first saw the new occupant, he was pretty certain it was a man. He knew it because he introduced himself to the man, offering to help move some stuff in, to which the man politely declined, saying he had enough help. Louis hasn’t seen the guy at all since then.
Fumbling with the lock of his apartment, Louis struggles to unlock the door while still holding onto the paper bag. After several minutes, he manages to push it open, successfully holding everything intact. He makes a beeline towards the kitchen, hands aching from how heavy his grocery load is today, and as he stores everything he bought, the question about his mysterious neighbour is left unanswered at the back of his mind.
✽
Working at home sure has its perks, especially when Louis can stretch out in whatever way he wants, lounging on the floor of his living room while contemplating the blueprint of his client’s hotel instead of distorting his figure at a cramped office desk. And when staring into the humongous paper doesn’t help, Louis heaves up his body, leaving the paper spread open on the floor while he walks to the kitchen. He still has some water left in the kettle after his second cup of tea and this time around, he opts for making a coffee instead, hoping that it will resuscitate his brain.
With a steaming hot coffee in hand, Louis walks to the balcony to enjoy his drink there. With the way his project is going currently, he’s going to have a long night ahead of him. So for now, he decides to take a break, utilising the rarely good weather London has to offer nowadays.
Placing his mug on the coffee table, Louis is about to sit down on one of the rattan chairs when he hears a soft curse from the side. Turning his head, he locks eyes with the man he spoke to a couple of months ago. At least Louis thinks he is, because this man looks significantly different than before. There’s no more dishevelled curly hair, tired green irises with under eyes turning purple, or chapped pink lips.
He’s now looking radiant, cheeks flushed a slight pink, sea foam green eyes twinkling and pink lips that look plush and soft.
“Hi!” The man chirps happily, slender fingers waving to Louis a tad too enthusiastically for someone who doesn’t know him.
Louis would never link such a deep voice with such gorgeous features, yet when he hears it he can’t think of anyone else better suited for that kind of voice. His mind slowly registers how the man’s open features morph into something resembling a frown and before he can further embarrass himself, he realises the reason why.
“Hi. Never seen you around before,” Louis quickly says. He winces at how robotic he sounds, but by the way the man’s dimpling at him right now, he’s probably being too critical of himself.
“We met when I moved in here. You offered to help me move in. Remember?” The man says. He has an easy smile on his lips as he flicks his eyes to Louis while hanging up his laundry.
It’s the first time Louis has actually seen his neighbour utilise the drying rack since they moved in. The white rack has always been there, unused on the balcony, and until today, Louis was quite certain it only served a decorative purpose. “Oh, yeah. I remember that.”
The man nods, but doesn’t offer anything else. In lieu of trying to be a concerned neighbour, Louis continues, “How’d you find everything around here? Are you new to the neighbourhood?”
“It’s very lovely and serene. Not much noise compared to my old place. Frankly, one of the reasons I bought this place is because of how close the store is.” Finishing with the last piece of his laundry, the man gesticulates in the vague direction of the store. “I haven’t got the chance to go though, my mum always brings me groceries whenever she comes.” He rolls his eyes fondly, the dimples prominent in his cheeks at the mention of his mother.
Louis frowns as he tries to stick together the fragments of his neighbour’s life in his mind to get a better understanding. “Oh so the woman-”
A loud piercing cry from the inside of his neighbour’s flat breaks the serenity of the evening, cutting into Louis’ words, and before he can say anything, the man smiles apologetically to him.
“Duty calls,” he comments, waving his slender fingers once again before disappearing behind the glass balcony door.
Louis is gaping after his brief encounter with his neighbour, left glueing the pieces together on his own. The woman Louis always bumps into is his neighbour’s mother. Well, that answers why he never sees her beyond the weekly grocery shopping trip.
Finally taking a seat on the rattan chair to enjoy his coffee, Louis sighs when the pad of his fingers brush the cold mug. That’s what he gets for making coffee with lukewarm water.
He can’t hear the sound of the baby crying anymore, mainly because his neighbour has closed his balcony door, but he hopes the baby has calmed down now. The building has such good noise control and it makes him wonder whether his neighbour has been living with a baby all this while and he just never noticed it.
His Nan will berate him for not knowing if she finds out, but it’s so hard to know your neighbour when the person barely leaves the house. There’s a possibility Louis will only see the man in another two months, if not longer.
✽
All humans tend to miscalculate and even Louis, who can rarely afford such mistakes in his profession, apparently got a number wrong in his personal life because it’s barely two weeks later when he bumps into his neighbour again.
Pressing the small button on the car door to lock the car, Louis raises his head to meet a familiar mop of brown curly hair, hands struggling as he tries to lock his car with a heavy paper bag clutched close to his chest.
“Hey, do you need any help?” Louis asks after his neighbour’s third miserable attempt. The man’s groan just grew louder each time he failed and there’s no doubt in Louis’ mind that the man might just start cursing at his car door if he doesn’t get it locked by the next attempt.
The man whips his head to Louis and he immediately grins, deep craters in his cheeks clearly present even though they don’t really know each other. “Please, would love some.”
Louis promptly crosses the parking spot. Being neighbours, their designated parking spaces face each other and one glance at his neighbour’s car cements the thought Louis has about his neighbour. The man very rarely leaves his house because Louis has never seen the parking space empty.
They exchange the paper bag easily and if Louis gulps down his saliva a tad too hard because the faint brush of their fingers sends jolts through his body, then no one has to know. With Louis now holding the paper bag, his neighbour locks the car with ease, and the car beeps automatically.
“Nice car,” his neighbour comments as they walk together towards the elevator, his hand gesturing toward Louis’ parked car.
Louis looks towards his sleek black BMW and he snorts. Much to his Nan’s dismay, the car was the first impulse purchase Louis made after getting his cut of the hotel theme park he built in Berlin. He had to spend two months after the purchase listening to his Nan nag him about it. He has a suspicion that his Nan only stopped because it was his birthday, and when she didn’t bring out the topic when he came back to Doncaster in February, he realised his Nan had finally closed the topic. It does make him more wary of his next impulse purchase though.
“You don’t want to know the story behind that,” Louis replies, chuckling softly when he sees his neighbour’s eyes become round in excitement.
His neighbour presses the button of the elevator and while waiting for it to arrive at the basement, his neighbour coaxes him, “Try me.”
Louis cocks an eyebrow at him. “Will you at least tell me your name before I start opening up about my dark past?”
“I’m Harry,” he introduces himself, extending a hand. Realising Louis’ hands are full and he is in no condition to accept a handshake, his neighbour shakes his wrist instead. “Nice to meet you, rando.”
Louis chuckles, shaking his head at Harry’s remarks. This man is proving to be more fun than he expected. The elevator pings as the door opens and Louis lets Harry enter the box first. “I’m Louis. Are you sure you want to hear about my dark past?”
Harry presses the button to their floor, nodding fervently with a tight furrow between his eyebrows. “Just for a disclaimer, I’d be more wary of you if my mum didn’t tell me that she saw you debating between three different colours of desert rose last month.”
Louis lets out a loud laugh. He knew buying the potted plants would bite him in the arse one day, he just didn’t expect it to be in this way. “Fair enough.”
“Okay, then. Fire away. I’m all ears,” Harry says, turning his whole body to Louis to give him his undivided attention.
The story behind his car and his Nan’s ceaseless nagging for over two months pull exactly two loud laughs and a chortle out of Harry. They even stop at Harry’s front door to finish his story.
“My close friends usually call me H,” Harry mumbles suddenly after Louis wraps up his story.
That’s unexpected . “Are you telling me I’m your close friend now?” Louis quips, squinting his eyes at Harry.
Harry’s face turns serious, the smile on his face disappears and he raises a hand, counting off his fingers as he talks, “First, you have revealed to me your dark past. Second, you’ve helped me bring my stuff up. Third, we live next door and our balconies are barely five metres away from each other. That -” he punctuates the word to make his point across, “in my life, is considered close friends.” Closing the distance between them, Harry brushes his hand against Louis’ as he takes back his paper bag. His pouty pink lips curl up just the tiniest bit at the corner, almost mischievous as he whispers conspiratorially, “Although, if you want me to call me by other names, then you would have to help me with more than just my groceries.”
And was that a wink? Is his neighbour flirting with him?
Just like their first encounter on the balcony, Louis is left flabbergasted after Harry closes the door in front of his face after muttering a soft ‘thank you’ with a megawatt smile that could light up the entire building.
Now he knows why he never sees Harry. That guy is a menace and Louis is so so weak for good banter paired with a gorgeous smile.
✽
Louis absolutely spends the next day keeping an eye out and his ear open for any telltale signs that Harry is living with a partner. He knows his neighbour has a baby, he just isn’t sure whether the other parent is in the equation.
On the fourth day of his investigation, he’s nowhere closer to finding an answer. So he decides to go out to a cafe at the exact same time he bumped into Harry several days ago, hoping that he will bump into him this time too.
Even before turning off the engine of his car, he already knows his effort is futile. Harry’s car is parked across from his parking space, having not moved since the day he went out for his groceries.
Louis sighs heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. Since when has he become so involved in his neighbour’s life? Harry probably thought it was harmless flirting. Worse, Harry probably wasn’t even flirting and here Louis is - obsessing over trying to find out whether he has a partner four days after their conversation.
It turns out that Louis didn’t even need to go out of his house to meet Harry again because the moment he opens his balcony door to enjoy the overpriced coffee he bought, he is greeted with a view of his unfairly gorgeous neighbour carrying a watering can to the balcony. Harry places his phone on the small table at the side, smiling at the screen before turning to his potted plants. Louis is certain Harry was looking at the baby monitor and his plan to stop obsessing over Harry’s partner dissolves in a matter of seconds. How could he when he has so many questions?
“Hey there,” Louis starts, trying to sound as nonchalant as he can, waving a hand to Harry when he whips his head to him.
Harry immediately smiles, showing the deep dimples in his cheeks. If this is how Harry smiles to everyone, then no one stands a chance against this man , Louis muses.
“Hey, didn’t notice you there! Just got back from the office?” Harry asks, waving his hand enthusiastically. His fingernails are painted with a bubblegum pink nail polish today. Louis can’t help thinking how it suits him perfectly.
Shaking his head, Louis chuckles. “Oh no, I’m mostly working from home. I have to go to the office sometimes, probably once a month. Or probably once every couple of months. Depending on the needs, really.”
Harry quirks an eyebrow, surprised. “Fancy,” he comments. “Now I see how you can afford the impulse purchase behaviour,” he adds dryly. His plump pink lips twitch imperceptibly at the corners from teasing Louis.
Louis gasps loudly. His hand flies to his face to cover his gaping mouth. “That was once in my entire life,” he defends himself, voice hushed from acting scandalised. “And I would have never told you about my dark past if I knew you would bring it up like this.”
Harry lets out a small laugh. “So, what do you do, Louis?”
“I’m an architect,” Louis answers. He takes a look at his balcony when Harry clearly starts to scrutinise the area. He seems particularly intrigued by the rattan chairs.
Noticing Louis’ gaze, Harry elaborates. “I always think architects have nice homes. Does that make sense?”
Louis scoffs. “Considering you’re looking at my balcony like you want to steal my furniture, yeah.”
Harry rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m not. Although, I’m mature enough to admit that your balcony is prettier than mine.” Harry starts to water his pansies, but his action is tentative and before Louis knows it, he’s raising his head to Louis once again. “Do you think it’s enough?” He asks, looking back at his almost yellow pansies.
Louis doesn’t have the heart to say that Harry’s plant probably will die sooner than later. “Yeah, that’s good. You should water your plants in the morning though. It will be better for the -”
“For the flowers?” Harry cuts off before Louis gets to complete his sentence. His bottom lip protruding as he stares at his wilting pansies dejectedly. “I know. But my baby is an early riser. I mean - she clearly gets it from me, but I haven’t been able to get out of her view in the morning for more than five minutes before she starts bawling. And let me tell you,” Harry’s green eyes grow wider, his voice dropping an octave like he doesn’t want his baby to hear the conversation, “She is a drama queen. I mean, she obviously got that from me as well.”
Before Louis can give a comment, Harry divulges more as he puts down his watering can. “And everyone always says that your baby grows up fast and it will only be a matter of time before they don’t need you anymore, so I’m trying to take the silver lining of it all. Even if that means buying new plants every couple of months.”
Realising his coffee is becoming colder by the minute, Louis takes a sip of his drink. Harry is watching him with rapt attention, wide green eyes unblinking as Louis gulps down his coffee. Running the tip of his tongue over his top lip, Louis hides his smile when he sees Harry clench his fists against his side. It’s brief, but it’s there regardless.
Blatantly caught off guard, Harry clears his throat, unnecessarily loud in the otherwise quiet setting. A loud crying follows seconds afterwards from the baby monitor and Harry turns his head to the wooden table. “That’s my clingy daughter calling,” he points out.Cocking his head toward the inside of the apartment and with a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, he goes back into the house.
The sight of Harry’s hand lacking any kind of rings doesn’t escape Louis’ eyes and his lips are in a permanent smile as he sips his warm coffee, spending several more minutes on the balcony even after he finishes his drink.
✽
Clicking a bit too aggressively on the mouse to save the latest update on his project, Louis raises his arms in the air, folding one arm over his shoulder before doing the same to the other side, shaking his head at the loud crack produced by the simple stretch. He has changed positions multiple times at this point, from sitting at the work desk, laying on his tummy on the floor, to even having his laptop propped on his thighs while he laid in bed. He’s been working on the same project for almost - looking at the top corner of his laptop, Louis sighs - seven hours straight now. No wonder his stomach is grumbling like crazy, he hasn’t eaten anything except for the two packs of potato chips he bought not more than forty-eight hours ago.
He snaps his laptop shut, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb as he takes off his glasses. He didn’t need glasses during his study years, but his eyesight has definitely been getting worse, especially this year. So he’s opted to wear a pair, even if they add five years to his age. At least he only has to wear them while working.
Staring into the empty space of the grey wall of his home office makes him think about the only thing lingering in his mind nowadays. Harry.
He doesn’t look older than Louis is, probably in his mid-twenties, and being a single parent must be hard at that age. Louis’ reverie is cut short by the loud grumble of his tummy, for probably the sixth time since noon, and he stands, cracking his back before making his way to the kitchen to heat up the leftover pad thai he got delivered last night.
Louis sets the plate of pad thai on the small wooden table on the balcony, precariously balancing a full mug of plain water that he accidentally poured to the brim while taking a seat. His eyes wildly search for any sign of Harry coming out to his balcony as well, but after several minutes of waiting, and his tummy continuing to growl loud enough that he’s almost convinced Harry could hear it too, he starts eating.
There’s a sound of the balcony door sliding open from the side and Louis hears soft rustling followed by a small commotion of Harry heaving a full basket of laundry with a watering can in one hand before Louis can even fully see his face.
“Hello there!” Harry waves once he notices Louis, as enthusiastic and chirpy as ever. “Late lunch? Or early dinner?” He asks, gesturing towards Louis’ plate.
Louis looks down to the half eaten pad thai in his lap. “Depending on how you look at it. It seems like the only meal I’ll be getting today.”
Harry makes a face, a pouting face to be exact, that Louis isn’t sure is appropriate for a neighbour because Harry looks so fucking adorable with that face.
“Doesn’t sound so healthy,” Harry comments. “Work keeping you busy?” He asks as he starts taking out the crumpled laundry in the basket, placing it on the drying rack.
Louis chuckles, nodding. “Nothing else is.” He realises his poor choice of words a second too late, and he almost chokes from the repercussions - as if he’s telling Harry that there’s no one else keeping him busy. Of course there isn’t anyone, but Harry isn’t supposed to be interested in knowing that. He might as well just blurt out that he’s single now.
If Harry thinks Louis is acting odd, he doesn’t say anything. His facial expression is open and he smiles hearing the answer as he puts up his laundry, one after another. “You cooked that?”
Louis snorts, shaking his head. If only. “I’m not a good cook,” he answers sheepishly. Harry doesn’t need to know the extent of his horror story in the kitchen. At least, not yet.
“I love cooking,” Harry gushes. “Although, for now, I only cook about once a week. There’s only two of us, and my daughter hasn’t started on solid food yet,” he adds. His lips twitch at the corner like he can’t stop himself from grinning at the mention of his daughter and Louis swears it’s the most beautiful thing ever.
Toying with the last bite of the pad thai with his fork, Louis debates between prodding further about Harry’s baby or just letting his neighbour open up by himself once he’s more comfortable. He has tons of questions, namely where is the other parent, but it’s borderline intruding on Harry’s privacy.
“Is she sleeping now?” Louis asks, feeding himself with the last bit as he waits for Harry’s answer. He’s full, but he just needs to be busy doing something else to eliminate the growing discomfort. He doesn’t want to be seen as a nosy neighbour.
“Yeah. I just fed her and she was milk drunk. She was already falling asleep when I burped her,” Harry divulges. A dimpled smile on his lips.
And just like that, Louis’ eyes are drawn to the laundry Harry is hanging right now. The nursing bras and the nursing dresses. It’s the first time it clicks in his mind that Harry is a carrier - a mum - and the plain water Louis is sipping while talking to Harry somehow tastes sweeter now.
“She sleeps better at night now. The longest was six hours and let me tell you, that was the best sleep I had in a while,” he adds more, chuckling. “Do you like babies?”
Louis scoffs, setting the empty plate on the table. He leans back into the chair, getting more comfortable with his legs spread open, one foot propped against another, his posture more relaxed now that Harry seems keen on talking about his daughter with him. “Like? I love babies. I have five younger siblings and the younger twins just turned six last month.”
Harry’s eyes grow impossibly large. “Do you miss it when they were babies? I think I’m gonna cry every time it’s my baby’s birthday. I don’t want her to grow up, like ever,” he punctuates, eyebrows furrowed like he’s already thinking far in the future, his daughter all grown up and ready to leave the house.
Louis chuckles. It’s the same thing all mothers say about their babies.
As they talk more about their lives, Harry gets giddy once he realises that Louis has two pairs of twins in his family, and the green in his eyes shines in excitement as he asks more questions about them growing up. Listening to Harry babble about his daughter and their ever changing routine, Louis finds himself thinking that he could get used to this - daily evening conversation with his neighbour, talking about their days.
✽
The hour hand of the clock mounted on the white wall of his living room strikes eight. Louis flicks through the channels again, settling on an Animal Discovery channel with a narrator voice filling the void. He hasn’t been able to watch anything for more than ten minutes before his mind lands on his neighbour. It’s not the first time it’s happened since they ended their conversation earlier this evening.
Louis found himself thinking about Harry and his baby while taking a shower and again while waiting for the water to boil to make his cuppa tonight. The same cuppa that has long been abandoned because his thoughts keep on running to them.
Is the baby asleep by now? Is she full before Harry puts her to bed? He hopes that she at least keeps up the six hour record Harry boasted about because Harry looks like he needs the sleep. Taking care of a baby is tiring, and to be doing it alone must be even more exhausting.
A sudden burst of colour on the telly screen startles Louis out of his trance. He shakes his head to chase away the images from this evening of Harry in his shirt and sweats, face tired but still dimply as ever. Harry is just his chatty, over-friendly neighbour. He is a single parent raising a baby that doesn’t have time for a new relationship and it’s about time Louis’ subconscious accepts that.
✽
The next time Louis sees his neighbour, he doesn’t realise his impending doom before it’s too late. It’s really almost comical how often this has occurred since he has met Harry.
Louis is out on the balcony with his cuppa resting on the table, a book in his hand. It’s Saturday and he has neither interest in driving to the nearest cafe nor walking to the nearest park in the borough to enjoy his book. After tossing and turning in his bed last night, unsuccessfully trying to not think about Harry, he was positive he wouldn’t see Harry again today. Never in his life has he seen his neighbour two days in a row. Hence why he settled on reading on his balcony.
Based on the sight before him right now, he was dead wrong.
The first thing he notices is the expanse of milky white skin on endless legs. The yellow shorts Harry is wearing are skimpy, ridiculously short, and probably a size too small based on how tightly they hug his pert arse, barely covering the lower cheeks.
Before Louis can think any better, he clears his throat. It’s not like he means for Harry to hear it, in fact he probably should sneak back into his house in the most discreet way possible right now, but the proximity of their balconies makes it impossible for Harry to not hear him, and his neighbour whips his head to him. Harry’s motion is too swift and he bumps his hand into the small container holding the clothes pegs off to the side. And like he’s in his own personal heaven, Louis sees how Harry bends down to pick them up, his heavy tits weighing down the loose t-shirt he’s wearing, showing more of his sinful skin, and Louis gulps down his pooling saliva at the image of Harry’s tits full of milk, cupped in a black nursing bra.
“— of the author?”
Louis sees Harry’s lips moving, talking about something but his brain can’t decipher the beginning of the sentence, too occupied on looking at something else . “Hmm?” He quirks an eyebrow, feigning like he can’t hear him.
Harry smiles, patiently repeating his question as he places the clothes peg container back in its place, “Are you a big fan of the author?” He gestures towards the book Louis is holding.
Looking at the book in his hands, Louis takes the chance to take a deep inhale to calm his racing heart. “Yes, kind of.” He shrugs, turning the book over to its cover and then back to the page he left off on. “It’s my first book from him, but I’m interested to read more.”
“That was exactly how I felt while reading that! I’m lucky enough to get ARCs for his newest book, and it was so good - I finished that in a day,” Harry reminisces, shaking a crib sheet before hanging it on the drying rack. It’s white in colour with cuts of watermelon motifs all over it and Louis stifles a smile, thinking it’s exactly what he imagined Harry would buy for his daughter.
“ARCs?” Louis parrots, scrunching his eyebrows. For the life of him, he can’t seem to remember ever seeing that acronym.
“Advanced reader copy,” Harry explains, flickering his eyes to Louis before picking up another piece of laundry. “I own a bookstore in the West End and we usually get ARCs a couple of months before the book is available to the public,” he tacks on, albeit sheepishly. There’s a slight pink flush on his cheeks and Louis’ feels like his heart grows twice in size inside his chest just from the image of Harry with his bouncy curls, arranging books and gushing about new releases.
Louis folds the corner of the page he last read before setting it on the table beside his cuppa, his focus entirely shifted toward Harry. He looks up to furrowed eyebrows and pink lips in a thin line, a perfect picture of displeasure, and he raises an eyebrow, quipping, “What?”
“Did you just fold a page of your book?” Harry asks in disbelief, enunciating fold a little bit too hard. The octave of his voice is higher than what Louis has heard from him, and Louis can’t help chuckling.
“I did. Yeah,” he answers nonchalantly, crossing his arms against his chest. Clearly having too much fun from the sheer panic marred across Harry’s face.
Harry scoffs, rolling his eyes and shaking his head like he is personally offended by Louis’ action. “I have several boxes of bookmarks. I’ll give you a few,” he settles with instead.
“Oh my, thank you,” Louis says in exaggeration, clutching his chest to show his gratitude. “Now I already know the perks of having an owner of a bookstore as your neighbour.”
Harry unsuccessfully stifles his smile. He looks focused on trying to look indignant, but there is no mistaking the slight craters in his cheeks from Louis’ teasing, and his cheeks are a beautiful shade of rose.
Louis’ evening couldn’t have progressed better as he watches Harry put up his laundry, meticulously shaking every piece before hanging, ranging from adorable crib sheets to dozens of bibs and several pastel-coloured sleep sacks. He clips everything so it won’t fall with the slight breeze billowing in the evening. Once he is finished with his laundry, Harry checks on the baby monitor he put on the side before turning his focus back to Louis. He props his arms on the railing of his balcony and contrary to before, Louis has decided he’s in his own personal hell based on the growing chub inside his joggers as Harry hunches his shoulders, his upper back slightly curved, fortuitously thrusting out his heavy breasts and cleavage.
“You have to promise to finish that book in two days,” Harry proposes, resting his chin on the palm of his hand.
Louis decidedly keeps his gaze on Harry’s pretty face rather than his - chest , but even with Harry’s slightest hand movement, they jiggle and Louis’ cock is half hard at this point. Luckily, he put on black joggers today. Fixing his posture as he inconspicuously tugs at his joggers, Louis asks, “I do?”
“Yeah, if you want that bookmark of course. We can talk about it once you finish. I don’t want to spoil the book.”
Gnawing on his bottom lip because that sounded awfully like a book date in his mind, Louis sits on his answer as Harry’s face grows more tight with every passing second without an answer.
“Hey,” Harry drawls out, jutting his bottom lip out, “You can go buy your own bookmark if you don’t want to talk about the book with me,” he mumbles dejectedly.
Louis lets out a short laugh. “Well, okay. I promise. See you in two days?” His heart is endeared from the genuine excitement that spreads across Harry’s face once he promises. With the amount of time Harry has spent cooped up in the house, Louis has a suspicion that it must have been a while since the last time someone talked about books with him.
“Okay, see you!” He says, standing up to his full height. Once he gathers everything he brought out with him, he waves his manicured pink nails to Louis, ready to go back inside with an empty laundry basket hitched at his hip.
✽
It isn’t until Louis finishes more than half of the book that he finally sets it on his bedside table, rubbing his eyes from the strain of squinting at the tiny words on the page. He should have worn his glasses while reading, but he refuses to accept that he needs glasses to read. If he has more book dates with Harry in the future though, he might have to.
He’s not an avid reader. He reads whenever he has time and more often than not, he only buys the best selling book at the time. For as much time he spent walking in the West End, he is convinced that he never stepped foot into any of the bookstores, which makes him wonder, which one is Harry’s?
Not reading or doing anything else though proves to be a disaster when his mind lands on Harry. This time his thoughts aren’t as innocent as last night. The image of Harry’s exposed smooth thighs, the glimpse of his lower arse cheeks and the curve of his tits, hugged by a black nursing bra are emblazoned in his mind. Plus, there was the sight of his cleavage while they were talking and how softly his tits jiggled when Harry ever so slightly moved his hands. Fuck.
He wonders whether Harry likes his full tits being played with. Has the pregnancy made his breasts sensitive? Has he let anyone fondle or suck them? Slipping his hand past the waistband of his jogger, Louis circles the base of his half-hard cock, eyes fluttering closed as he imagines his own hand cupping Harry’s tits, fishing them out from the confines of the nursing bra, squeezing the handfuls and hearing Harry’s deep moans against his ear, begging him to not stop as Louis gently sucks his nipple. Using the precome blurted at the tip, Louis rubs his shaft up and down with a skilled hand, imagining Harry’s milk and the taste exploding on his tongue.
It isn’t long until he comes with a loud grunt, his come shooting to his chest, more powerful than what he’s used to - just from the mere thought of Harry.
Climbing down from his bed, he pulls his joggers off the rest of the way, haphazardly tossing them in the direction of his laundry basket. As he rinses his hands at the bathroom sink, Louis’ post-orgasm induced brain slowly deciphers the meaning of his action, and like being splashed with boiling water, Louis jolts his hand away from the running tap. His eyes comically grow twice in size in the mirror once the realisation sets in.
He just jerked off to his neighbour. Not even to a typical scenario he used to wank to when he was in his early twenties, a fit guy with a hung cock and delicious pecs to devour. He jerked off to the feeling of having tits in his hands, mouth sucking on milk. Shit .
✽
Waking up in the morning, Louis rubs his bleary eyes before blindly reaching his phone on the bedside table to check on any emails and messages. He accidentally touches the book he placed there last night and his mind immediately plays what happened last night in slow motion like a cruel joke.
Louis sits up in bed, shaking his head vehemently to clear off the memory. He already feels so gross with himself since that incident and any thinking that leads to Harry isn’t exactly helping. Especially when, right now, his morning wood is tenting the briefs he wore to bed.
Deciding it’s futile to stay in bed, Louis kicks off his cover and goes to his bathroom. He brushes his teeth while resolutely not looking at the mirror at all before walking into the kitchen. It’s harder to scrub off the revolt when he has to look at himself and relive the moment he realised what he did.
Based on the murky sky he can see from the sliding door to his balcony, Louis knows it’s going to rain soon. He glances at the wall clock, sighing when he sees it’s just seven in the morning. Early morning rain means it’s going to rain the whole day and Louis won’t be able to read on his balcony today. Maybe this is the universe’s way of admonishing him for jerking off to his perfectly kind neighbour.
While brewing his tea, Louis scrolls through the news headlines and he is in the midst of reading EPL predictions when he hears a soft rap against his front door. As if the wall clock was wrong, Louis quickly glances at the digital number of his phone screen, frowning when it shows five past seven.
Placing his phone on the kitchen counter, Louis walks to the hallway and the nausea crawls all over his body at the unmistakable rectangular shape of a bookmark slipped underneath the tiny gap of his front door.
Of course, the universe decides to let Louis live with the cost of his grave mistake.
✽
The only way to go about his life is thinking that it’s a one time mistake, a lapse of judgement on his part, and he swears that he’ll never do it again - subconsciously or not.
With a steaming hot tea in hand, Louis walks to his balcony. He changed into the biggest pair of black joggers he owns, replacing the light grey joggers he wore this morning. He’s not getting ready for a book talk with his neighbour, absolutely not , but if anything is bound to happen, at least the black joggers are more - modest . Better safe than sorry.
Stepping onto the balcony though, Louis kind of wishes he dressed up a bit, because Harry is wearing a navy blue dress that reaches his knees. The material looks soft and with the slight wind of the evening, it blows his dress, creating a flare around him. Leaning on the railing, his unruly curls sway with the wind and he looks like an absolute angel.
Probably noticing Louis’ eyes on him longer than usual, Harry looks down to himself and with a soft smile on his lips, he says, “I had a meeting with an author and I was going to go to my bookstore. But, my baby wasn’t having it, so I had to stay at home and do the meeting online.” He rolls his eyes, but Louis can see his fondness through the act.
“You look amazing,” Louis compliments before taking a sip of his tea, hiding his smile at the rim of the mug when Harry’s eyes grow wide as a saucer, like he didn’t expect the praise. Biting his lip, Harry’s dimples pop and his cheeks blush furiously.
“I -” Harry clears his throat before continuing, “Thanks. I wasn’t so sure about the button down, but baby - you know, I need to have easy access,” Harry explains, gesturing towards the row of front buttons of his dress.
If Louis were the same man as yesterday, he would have stared longer at Harry’s dress and the front buttons, conjuring all kind of images, but the promise he made to himself vibrates through his whole body and he focuses his gaze resolutely on Harry’s face.
“You look -” Louis’ words are cut off by a loud shriek from Harry’s baby monitor and Harry immediately straightens up, picking up his phone from the table where he left it.
Harry frowns looking at the screen of his phone. “I’ll be back. Wait for me,” he mumbles before going back into his house.
Harry’s daughter is probably hungry and Louis takes a seat, knowing it will take a while to ensure the baby is full before burping her. Based on his experience, every baby is different. The youngest twins of his family burped after minutes of drinking milk and the older twins took at least ten minutes. He knew because everytime he went back to his family home, he was the one in charge of carrying them around the house.
Taking another sip of his tea, Louis squints his eyes, noticing the commotion of Harry opening the sliding door and pushing the curtain away before shutting it with one hand.
There’s a soft whine from the baby he’s holding and before long, the baby’s cry gets to an ear-splitting level, clearly unhappy with being dragged out of the house.
“Sssh, mummy is here, darling,” Harry coos at her, trying to calm down the squirming baby in his hands to no avail. “Look who’s there.” Using his daughter’s index finger, Harry points to Louis. “That’s mummy’s friend that I have been telling you about, remember?” The baby’s scrunched up face zeroes in on Louis, and almost like she notices they aren’t alone anymore, the wail subsides.
Harry rolls his eyes. “Oh, you just want a handsome lad to keep you entertained, huh? That will stop your crying?” The baby in his arms giggles, content on leaning on Harry’s chest and staring at the new person.
Taking the cue from the baby who finally has calmed down, Louis chides, “Handsome lad, huh?”
“We don’t have the same taste,” Harry deadpans, looking down at his daughter in what Louis can only describe as the disappointment of a parent.
Louis chuckles, pulling an interest from the baby as she visibly perks up at the sound coming from another balcony. She looks like a carbon copy of Harry with her chocolate-coloured curls, wide seafoam green eyes, bright pink lips and dimples in both of her cheeks.
“She likes you,” Harry notes, heaving the baby up while she stares, seemingly mesmerised by Louis.
Louis crosses his eyes, the one trick all babies he’s come across like, and the baby giggles, kicking her feet excitedly to which Harry smiles. “What’s her name?”
Harry grins, brushing his daughter’s curls away from her face. “She is Ciri. Although, when she barely sleeps, I call her by her full name - Cirilla.”
Louis can already picture Harry staring down at the baby in her crib, calling out her full name because she won’t stop crying. “The name suits her,” Louis mumbles. It does, she looks like a baby out of the movies and the classic name fits her nicely.
“Yeah? My mum wasn’t the biggest fan of the name. She is now though,” Harry divulges, shaking his head. “Looks like we are gonna have one more person joining in our book talk today. Hope you won’t mind.”
Louis shakes his head, raising a hand to say no. “Of course not. She is welcome to join anytime.”
Talking with Harry about the book he read feels surreal. He’s never met a person who makes book talk sound interesting, enough to pull him in and pique his interest to continue the conversation. Yet with Harry, it feels like he doesn’t want to stop. By the end of their conversation, Louis is already planning his next trip to the bookstore to purchase some of the books Harry mentioned.
✽
After the initial lapse of judgement, Louis hasn’t been imagining things, which he’s immensely grateful for because after their first book talk, Harry brings Cirilla out almost every other day if she isn’t taking a nap. He doesn’t know how he could look in Cirilla’s innocent green eyes if he was still imagining her mother.
Which is why Louis has to stop and squint his eyes long enough that he has to step on the grass to give way to other people running on the pave walk. Is that - Harry and Cirilla? Harry is walking towards the metal park bench while pushing a stroller. Every so often, he smiles at the baby in the stroller, placing his hand in the seat probably to play with Cirilla.
He still doesn’t know what Harry’s daily schedule looks like, but he’s almost sure Monday is meant for Harry and Cirilla to be cooped out in the house as per usual. Harry mentioned Monday was usually hectic because his mother would bring him groceries and Harry had to do their meal prep for the whole week.
Louis absolutely has one kilometre of his run left to go, but his feet move on their own accord and the next thing he knows, he’s already peeking into the stroller, trying to catch a glimpse of Cirilla up close.
“Oh God, she looks more adorable up close,” Louis gushes, cooing at Cirilla as she smiles, enlightened to see Louis. Her tiny hands reach up towards Louis and he extends a hand, smiling when all five of her fingers wrapped around his index finger. “That’s such a strong grip, love,” Louis gasps, tickling her sides and Cirilla giggles, her bright laugh loud enough to pull a grin from Louis.
“I don’t know who is wrapped around one’s finger more. Whether it’s you or her,” Harry comments from the side, rolling his eyes when Louis turns his head to him.
Louis chuckles and with his apparently turned off brain to mouth filter, he replies, “Are you jealous?”
Harry fakes a cough and as he holds a fisted hand against his mouth, he shakes his head. “Such an accusation,” he gasps, clutching a hand to his chest like the drama queen he is. “I’d never fight with my daughter for a bloke’s interest.” And with a softer voice, he adds, “He will have to win us both.”
Louis chuckles, shaking his head. After spending countless evenings talking with Harry, he knows how cheeky he can be. “What are you guys doing around here? Thought it’s her nap time,” Louis asks. Cirilla whines softly, becoming restless in the stroller when no one is paying attention to her and Louis pushes her stroller back and forth, smiling at the baby when she finds a new toy in the blanket, her attention immediately captured by the blue fish.
“I shifted her nap time so she could sleep in more. She sleeps longer now, so I tried to make her sleep at around six thirty. That gives me enough time to catch up with everything,” Harry explains. Sliding to the side of the bench, he pats the empty space beside him, “Have a seat.”
Louis shrugs his shoulders. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m sweaty, just finished a run.”
Whatever Harry is thinking can’t be appropriate because it takes literal seconds for his cheeks to turn a bright red. Noticing Louis’ gaze on him, Harry ducks his head, biting his bottom lip.
“I used to go out on a run every morning,” Harry mumbles. “Well, before I had Ciri. I hadn’t tried bringing her out alone because -” Harry frowns as if he’s trying to piece a perfect sentence together.
“Terrified she is going to have a meltdown?” Louis gauges. That’s basically what his colleagues always said during the first few months of having a baby.
Harry laughs ruefully. “That makes me sound like a bad mum, right?”
Louis shakes his head, a deep crease in his forehead formed from Harry’s self-deprecating tone. “Don’t say that. It’s not easy bringing up a kid, especially on your own.” With a lopsided smile, he nudges Harry’s feet with his own, wiggling his eyebrows, “And look who managed to bring Ciri on his own today.”
Harry smiles, taking a peek at Cirilla in the stroller. “You are too kind to us,” he drawls out. “You just know the right words to soothe me.”
“Well - I’m a son of a single mother too. I know how hard it can be,” Louis assures Harry. He looks down to Cirilla who is blinking at the sky with the fish toy in her mouth. Under the sun, her green eyes look more vivid than usual and when Louis pulls a funny face, she giggles heartily, her tiny hands fisting against her white fluffy blanket.
People around them are going about their evening - some of them are jogging and like Harry and Louis, some are spending time with their family on the benches. There’s even a couple who take a quick stop beside them to refill their bottles before resuming their run. Harry and Louis let the sound from the environment fill their silence, each of them focusing on Cirilla who looks delighted with her new surroundings.
“We can go on a run together, if you want,” Louis offers. “I don’t know how we can make it happen with Ciri, but even if we can’t run, we can take a walk like this. It will be nice, yeah?”
Harry frowns and his tone is tentative when he replies, “We won’t take away your time? It’s supposed to be your workout time.”
Louis laughs, his whole body vibrating with the force of it. “I’m not a workout junkie. This -” He motions to his outfit, joggers and a windbreaker hat he bought specifically for running earlier this year. “- is just because I’m going to turn thirty by December.” Scratching the nape of his neck, Louis tries to remember the last time he went out on a run. “This is probably my first run in two months. No worries, I think you two are going to keep me on my schedule better than I’m able to.”
Harry gasps, scandalised, and he swats Louis’ bicep softly. “That’s not good. WHO recommended a hundred and fifty minutes per week for exercise. That means you should run at least thirty minutes every day,” he hisses, eyebrows scrunching up adorably like Cirilla every time she’s about to cry.
Right on cue, as if she knows her mother is nagging Louis, Cirilla whimpers and Louis takes the opportunity to talk with her instead. “You getting bored, love? Let’s go to the other side of the park, yeah? We’ll look at the birds,” he says, pushing the stroller with one hand while the other tucks Cirilla’s blanket around her.
If Louis took a second to look back at Harry who is following him and Cirilla from behind, he would have seen his dimpled smile, fondness apparent all over Harry’s face.
✽
Placing the new bookmark Harry slipped under his front door three days ago in between the last two pages he read, Louis sniffs the delicious smell wafting through the wind from Harry’s balcony. It smells awfully like Harry is baking a cake, but Louis can’t be completely sure.
If Louis didn’t know Harry any better, he would have thought his neighbour opened the balcony door just to air out his house. But he knows Harry better now , and Harry definitely doesn’t open the balcony door for that.
Like clockwork, barely five minutes later, Harry pops his head out from the opened door. His voice is chirpy as he greets Louis with his signature enthusiastic wave, “Are you lactose intolerant?”
Louis frowns, shaking his head. He’s almost sure he told Harry about it when they discussed their favourite foods during one of their walks.
“Great!” He exclaims with a familiar gleam in his eyes. “From one to ten, how much do you like chocolate cake?”
“Uh, twelve?” Louis answers, hoping that it’s the answer Harry is looking for. He might know Harry better now, but he still can’t quite grasp whatever is brewing in Harry’s mind every time.
Harry narrows his eyes, almost like he’s judging the truth in Louis’ answer. Before long, the corner of his lips quirk up and he beckons his hand to Louis. “I baked a cake today. Do you want to have a taste?” He asks, his eyes flickering to the other side and his cheeks blush a beautiful shade of rose. Almost like he’s bashful .
That’s - Louis didn’t expect an invitation. Despite talking to each other almost every other day and going out on walks for more than three weeks now, they never stepped out of the friendly neighbour boundary. He doesn’t even have Harry’s phone number saved for God sake. “Now?”
Harry makes a face. A pouting face, to be exact. “Of course now. I wouldn’t ask you today to have a taste tomorrow,” he quips petulantly.
Louis stands, his action timid and careful like Harry might revoke his invitation if he acts clumsy.
Seemingly satisfied that Louis will come, Harry beams. “See you, ta!” He waves his hand before disappearing behind the balcony door.
Locking the balcony door behind him, Louis stares at the door to his bedroom for a little bit too long. He probably should change into something else other than his beaten joggers and old sweatshirt. But Harry has seen him in this outfit, which makes it not doable.
He doesn’t want to be seen as trying to flirt or anything, but looking down at the smallest hole in his joggers, probably from years of use, Louis decides to change into something more appropriate.
Stepping into the bedroom though, Louis’ mind decides on doing something else altogether. He takes a quick shower, shaves the five o’ clock shadow because Cirilla will probably touch his jaw and he doesn’t want her to be hurt, and sprays on some cologne that won’t be too harsh on Cirilla’s nose before pulling out a pair of matching black joggers and a hoodie.
He knocks on Harry’s door thirty five minutes later and he is greeted with a scrutinising once-over before he’s even allowed to enter.
“You are late and you didn’t even bring anything for us,” Harry says with no bite. He is still looking Louis up and down, a smirk tugging his lips. “Did you change just to taste my chocolate cake?”
There’s no other way than to admit it, so Louis nods, gesticulating his hands like it’s not a big deal. “Yeah, I -” Louis raises his eyebrows high to his hairline, noticing something different about Harry. “You changed too!” He exclaims, index finger pointing accusingly at Harry. He is wearing the navy blue dress Louis has seen him in before, ditching the ratty band t-shirt that he was wearing when he poked his head out earlier.
Harry has the gall to look sheepish. “Well -” He shrugs his shoulders, guiding Louis into the living room. “You took so long to come here, so I figured you’re probably getting ready.”
Louis’ protest to correct Harry that he was absolutely not getting ready dies at his throat when Cirilla babbles enthusiastically from the playpen once she notices Louis. She crawls toward the end of the playpen, tiny hand extended to Louis’ direction.
“Can I pick her up?” Louis asks even though his feet are already standing right at the playpen, ready to swoop Cirilla in his arms once he gets the okay from Harry.
“Yeah,” Harry answers from the kitchen, voice slightly raised. “She just woke up from her nap, probably eavesdropping when I asked you to come over,” he says, walking back into the dining area with a perfectly glazed chocolate cake and setting it on the dining table. Smiling at Cirilla who’s tracing her tiny fingers over Louis’ smooth cheek, Harry tacks on, “And she’s been excited ever since, aren’t you, Ciri?”
Like she understands what Harry is saying to her, Cirilla squeals with laughter, covering her face with her hands before leaning back into Louis’ chest.
“Come. Have a seat,” Harry offers, pulling out a chair from his dining table before disappearing to his kitchen once again. His dining area is connected to his living room and Louis smiles at how spotless everything is. People would never know Harry is raising a baby alone with how clean his house is.
Louis takes a seat, letting Cirilla’s tiny feet stand on his lap while he balances her by holding her body. Harry has been sharing how much she crawls all over the place now, and the reason why he set up a playpen even though his house barely could afford the space.
Harry comes back with plates and forks and he places them on the table. “I’m making us some tea. A dash of milk with no sugar, right?”
Louis nods, muttering his gratitude. They haven’t had a cup of tea together, but they talked about it once and his heart flutters at the fact that Harry still remembers how he takes his tea. “You have a nice home.”
Harry smiles at him and Cirilla. “I cleaned up a bit before you came,” he says and without preamble, he crosses the dining area, bending down to Cirilla to peck her cheek. Their proximity makes it possible for Louis to catch the whiff of floral scent from Harry’s perfume and he glances up to Harry, seeing his dimpled smile as he brushes Cirilla’s curls, his deep voice cooing at his daughter and his sea foam green eyes twinkling in delight when his daughter babbles at him.
Too soon, the shrill sound of the kettle pulls Louis from his trance and he bounces Cirilla in his lap, pulling a loud giggle from her.
“Give me two minutes to make the tea and then we can dive in,” Harry says, patting Louis’ shoulder.
Louis brings Cirilla out to the balcony to see the view when she suddenly cries. Her wail is loud enough that Harry comes out from washing the dishes, and noticing her mother, Cirilla squirms in Louis’ hold, wanting to go to Harry instead.
Harry scoops her out of Louis’ arms expertly and turns to head back inside. “She’s just hungry,” he mumbles, wiping the tears from Cirilla’s chubby cheeks. “Now you know how she behaves once she’s cranky,” he adds, chuckling.
Seeing Harry settling in with Cirilla on the armchair and pulling the nursing pillow into his lap, Louis taps his socked feet on the timber floor, thinking that he should leave and let the two carry on with their evening routine.
“Can you get me my breastfeeding pump? It’s in the cabinet close to the sink,” Harry says as he sets Cirilla on the pillow, patting her softly while he undoes the buttons of his dress.
Louis doesn’t need to stay and see Harry uncover his tits in his living room, so he strides towards the kitchen, opening the cabinet that Harry mentioned. He should have waited longer before walking back into the living room because he sees Harry undo the clips of his nursing bra, exposing his full breasts and his slightly glistening nipples before pushing Cirilla close to his chest. He must have been leaking in his nursing bra while they were eating and Louis’ cock twitches at the thought. A soft hiss escapes Harry’s parted lips as Cirilla latches and sucks.
Averting his gaze from the baby in his hand, Harry locks eyes with Louis. “The pump?” He raises his eyebrows.
Louis hands it to Harry and he sees how Harry squeezes the pump at the base before attaching it right over his other nipple with one hand. With the silicone pump transparent, Louis can see clear as day how the suction slowly pulls milk out of Harry’s heavy tit.
“Uh - I’m going to -” Louis jerks his thumb towards the front door. “I should leave,” he continues.
“Stay, please? It’s already almost Ciri’s bedtime. We can drink wine and chat once she sleeps,” Harry says, his voice slow as to not startle Cirilla in his lap. “We can watch The Silence since you finished the book last week,” he adds softly. Hope lacing his voice and his eyes, for once, look like they’re tinged with a slight grey.
They could do nothing at all for the rest of the night and Louis would still agree. He just needs the invitation. He doesn’t voice it though as he takes a seat on the loveseat, snatching the throw pillow on the side to hide his erection. The gross part of him that he thought he had eradicated comes back full force.
“If we spend the night watching The Silence, you know you have to feed me more of your chocolate cake, right?” Louis mumbles and the answering grin on Harry’s face is enough to make him forget his growing problem. At least, for a while.
✽
The invitation to eat the chocolate cake was exactly a week ago. Harry has been busy ever since - something about an author’s book tour in his bookstore for this week that he had to prepare for - and he sent Cirilla to stay with his mum for a while.
It shouldn’t feel as long as it has, and Louis found himself staring at Harry’s closed balcony door this evening as he read, hoping that his neighbour would come out even though he knew it was futile. He missed them.
It’s ten to midnight when Louis finally decides he should go to bed. He has been zoned out of the series he is watching, pondering about how his own family life would look like. Before Harry, the thought has never crossed his mind. Louis shakes his head as he stands, picking up the two empty mugs and a plate from the coffee table and bringing it to the sink.
Louis is in the midst of rinsing the chocolate drying on the plate when he hears the sound of a loud rap on his front door. It must be Harry as he usually slips a new bookmark underneath Louis’ front door everytime Louis finishes a book, and he smiles, continuing with rinsing the rest of his dishes.
Before Louis can soap his dishes, the knock comes again and this time more persistent. Repeatedly and loudly. Frowning, he looks up to the wall clock, patting his hands dry with the kitchen towel. It’s probably not Harry, then. Maybe the elderly lad living two doors down from him, or the cat woman that just moved in last week.
Opening his front door though, he is greeted with the sight of Harry and his less than enthusiastic hand wave. Louis notices the bright red nail polish on his slender fingers, a new colour since the last time they saw each other. He is wearing a mismatched outfit - a white flowy blouse with ruffled sleeves and an old pair of joggers, maroon colour faded from years of use.
“H?” Louis asks, disbelief tainting his voice. He immediately opens the door wider, giving way for Harry to pass through without any questions asked.
Harry smiles, even though it doesn’t quite reach his green eyes. “Can I use your washing machine? Mine broke down like two days ago, and I forgot to call someone to check on it.” He sighs softly, gesturing to the two full laundry baskets he set on the floor. “Now, I have too much laundry to do and I don’t even have appropriate attire to wear anymore,” Harry continues dejectedly. His voice low, barely above a whisper. He is still standing at the doorway as if feeling he needs to explain himself, despite Louis opening the door for him.
“Come on in,” Louis says, bending down and picking up the laundry baskets from the floor. He ignores Harry’s soft protest saying he can bring one of them, instead asking Harry to help him close the door.
They walk to Louis’ laundry room in silence and Louis would be worried Harry is left in the hallway if it wasn’t for the sound of his feet padding on the floorboard behind him.
Harry pushes open the door as Louis’ hands are full and he sets the laundry baskets close to the washing machine using the light coming from the living room. “Welcome to my humble laundry room. You probably have to do two or three loads. I live alone, so my washing machine is small,” he explains, clicking the light switch on the wall.
“You’re gonna have to see my face till morning, then,” Harry replies without missing a beat and Louis chuckles. It seems Harry is back to his old self, all quick remarks and cheekiness and Louis feels his lungs take a huge gulp of relieved breath.
Standing at the washing machine, Harry turns over the dirty laundry before tossing them in the machine as Louis grabs the detergent and fabric softener from the shelf.
“I really didn’t want to trouble you. I was planning to wash everything by hand after picking up Ciri from my mum’s house,” Harry mumbles, glancing over at Louis who helps to turn over the cloth for him. “But Ciri apparently was so excited to come back home, and she didn’t want to sleep. When I left her in the room, she cried and when I tried to feed her, she didn’t want to eat. She just wanted to play in her playpen,” Harry chuckles, shaking his head and a soft sigh escapes his lips. He rarely sighs, always trying to be the best parent for his daughter, but away from Cirilla, he has sighed at least twice tonight. His drawl is slow and his exhales are heavy. He must be so exhausted.
“It’s not a problem, H. It’s just a washing machine. Let me help,” Louis says, taking the fabric softener bottle from Harry’s hand and pouring it into the machine. “Is Ciri sleeping now?” He asks, clicking on the button to start the cycle.
Harry fishes out his phone from the pocket of his joggers. His phone unlocks and Louis sees a glimpse of a familiar picture that he took of Harry and Cirilla in the park set as the wallpaper. They were wearing matching light blue coloured outfits in the picture, Cirilla complete with her speckled skirt and butterfly socks and Harry wearing a matching jumper and joggers. Tapping on an app, Harry shows Louis the image of Cirilla all bundled up in her sleeping sack, sleeping soundly on her tummy in the crib.
Staring a little bit too long at the screen, Louis finds himself mumbling, “I missed her.”
“I missed her too. I FaceTimed my mum everyday after work so I could watch her. Thank-” Harry cuts himself off with a wince, his hands clenching so hard on the washing machine that his knuckles turn white.
The concern gnawing on Louis’ heart from the moment he saw Harry’s tired face at his front door just doubles in size and he tugs Harry’s arm, slowly turning Harry to him. “Are you okay?”
Harry’s face is scrunched up in pain, eyebrows furrowed together and his jaw clenched as tears start welling up in his eyes. “Fuck, it hurts,” Harry whimpers, gritting his teeth, hands clutching his chest.
Louis averts his gaze to Harry’s chest and he swallows hard, looking at the milk steadily leaking through Harry’s white blouse. Harry isn’t wearing a bra and Louis’ cock twitches in his joggers from the sight. Harry’s blouse is soaked with milk, heavy tits full behind the confines of his top, and Louis can see the dark pebbled buds through the sheer fabric.
He glances up, seeing Harry’s face twisted in agony and before he can think any better, he blurts out, “Let me help.”
Harry doesn’t even take the time to think as he nods fervently, hands immediately undoing the buttons of his blouse, exposing more and more of his flawless skin. Louis, unable to restrain himself, cups both of Harry’s heavy tits, weighing them in his hands before ducking his head down and attaching his lips to the nipple. He starts with a light suckle, not wanting to hurt Harry more than what he is already experiencing.
The stream of Harry’s milk is thin initially. It tastes surprisingly good, like less sweetened almond milk, not like Louis expects anything less with how clean Harry’s diet is.
Harry’s soft little moans fill the room and he pushes his tit further into Louis’ mouth, probably relieved from someone emptying his milk overflow. Emboldened with Harry’s encouragement, Louis wraps his free hand around Harry’s waist, pulling Harry closer to him as he tightens the suction of his mouth, drawing more milk from Harry’s tit.
“The other side, please, nnggh.. ” Harry whimpers, fisting Louis’ hair in one hand, the neglected tit soaking through his shirt.
Louis pulls off, licking a bead of milk dripping down his lips. One side of Harry’s breasts is clearly smaller than the other, now that Louis has milked him.
“Lou…” Harry opens his eyes, whining and Louis surges forward, pressing his lips against Harry’s swollen lips and his neighbour moans into their kiss, his hand clutching at Louis’ shirt desperately.
All too soon, Harry’s moan turns into a wince. The other tit is still full, painfully pressing against Louis’ chest. Louis breaks their kiss and he bends his head down. Harry’s nipple is white with beads of milk collected at the tip and Louis wraps his mouth around it, pulling the milk with profound expertise now that he knows how much Harry likes it.
Louis’ thumb caresses the other side of Harry’s breast, before he squeezes the nipple between his index finger and thumb. He smirks against Harry’s skin when he feels the spritz of milk making his fingers wet. He really is milking Harry dry tonight.
“ Nghh , fuck, I’m so hard,” Harry moans, his eyes fluttering close from the pleasure and his hand moves to his jogger’s waistband.
Louis unlatches, his thumb caressing Harry’s nipple, glistening with milk and his spit. “Need a hand?” He croaks out.
Harry’s eyes pop open. He pulls his joggers down to his thighs, nodding and encouraging Louis with his panting breaths and little please , leaning on the washing machine behind him to give an unobstructed view for Louis to see his cock. Louis wraps his hand around Harry’s hard cock, brushing the heavy balls with the pads of his fingers. Harry’s cock head is almost purple from how hard he is and the vein on the underside is bulging obscenely.
It doesn’t take long to figure out how Harry likes his cock to be played with, his body is so responsive, desperate hands fisting at Louis’ shirt and his soft little moans give everything away. Beads of milk start collecting at the tip of Harry’s nipple again and Louis fixes his posture, getting comfortable to pull his fist on Harry’s shaft while sucking from his tit. He is going to milk Harry dry from both sides tonight.
Harry hisses in pleasure, throwing his head back when Louis wraps his lips around his nipple once again, his hand jacking Harry’s cock rythimically.
Louis knows Harry is about to come when his body grows taut, more moans spilling out of his swollen pink lips and his hand flies to his other breast, rubbing and pulling the nipple even when his milk is almost gone.
Harry comes with a shout, his body arches violently away from the washing machine and his hard cock spills warm come over Louis’ fist. Keeping his movement on Harry’s cock slow to coax the last bit of come from his cock, Louis pulls off from Harry’s tit with a loud pop.
Harry’s pink lips curve up into a smile. His pupils are dark and dilated, leaving only a thin ring of green in his eyes. Despite his heavy breaths, he opens his mouth to say something, but at the same time a loud shriek comes from his baby monitor and Louis sees how Harry’s face changes from deliriously in pleasure to total panic. He looks down to himself, cursing at the state of his clothing - his white blouse wide open with drips of milk drying on his tummy, his joggers halfway undone, and his cock softening after his release.
Closing his eyes, Harry’s hands clench into a fist at his side. Exhaling a breath through his mouth, he opens his eyes once again and croaks out, “I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.” His voice deep and gravelly.
Louis stares at Harry in bewilderment as he swiftly pulls his joggers up, his slender fingers buttoning his blouse in seconds. Trying to say something, anything to Harry, Louis extends a hand, which Harry pulls away from, grimacing. He stares at Harry rushing out of his laundry room without glancing back at him.
Only after hearing a click from the front door closing, Louis lets himself slide down to the floor. He rakes his fingers through his hair, tugging it in frustration, questioning what had he done?
✽
It’s almost noon when Louis finally gathers the courage to bring Harry’s laundry to his door. He would have taken much longer to pull himself together if it wasn’t for Harry’s words last night - that he had no appropriate clothes to wear anymore. His mind replays Harry’s mismatched outfit from last night and he doesn’t even want to think about Cirilla’s cry from the absence of her favourite sleeping sack.
Louis has checked himself in the mirror more than five times in the last ten minutes, fingers brushing his fringe every single time as he stares at his own reflection, and when the clock strikes twelve, he takes a deep breath, releasing it through his mouth to calm his racing heart. He would have already said he’s sorry for what happened, but he doesn’t even have Harry’s phone number. After a very restless and sleepless night, he decided this was the best way to apologise to Harry.
Knocking on his neighbour’s door merely five minutes later, Louis curses himself while waiting. He was tired last night, maybe the decision to wait for Harry to open the door wasn’t the best. Harry probably doesn’t even want to see his face right now.
The door is yanked open from inside and the frown on Harry’s face slowly turns into something more ferocious as his jaw tightens, pink lips set in a hard line.
“I finished washing everything,” Louis mumbles, gesturing to the two laundry baskets he placed on the floor while waiting.
“Thanks,” Harry says impassively, crossing his arms against his chest. His face looks anything, but sincere.
Feeling out of sorts, Louis bites his bottom lip and slips his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry for what happened last night. I-”
Harry scoffs, shaking his head. “Don’t be. It was my fault. I was tired and cranky and wasn’t in my right mind. It was an honest mistake. You were being nice to me, opening up your home to me at midnight and there I was - taking advantage of your kindness,” Harry lets out a mirthless laugh, like he can’t believe what he did last night. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry,” he mumbles. His tone terse and the expression on his face closed-off as he picks up his laundry baskets.
“Thank you for washing this for me,” Harry says before shutting the door right in front of Louis’ face before he can conjure up a word.
That was simply the most bizarre interaction Louis had with Harry so far and considering what happened last night, maybe Harry doesn’t feel comfortable with his presence anymore. Meandering back towards his own unit, Louis’ heart clenches at the possibility of not seeing Harry or Cirilla again after this.
✽
Louis cracks his neck, his hand rubbing the nape of it, massaging the sore area gently. He has been working at his desk since this morning, taking a pause from the blueprint to attend a Zoom meeting while he ate reheated pizza he got delivered last night and continuing working on his latest project right after. If he wasn’t so annoyed with the bread crumbs falling over his blueprint, he wouldn’t even get up off his chair to ditch the plate in the sink.
The sun will set in another thirty minutes and although his mind is telling him it’s futile, Louis stands up, grimacing at the stiffness of his lower back. He meanders to the balcony, debating with himself whether he should open the door or not before finally letting his heart win as he pushes open the sliding door.
The first thing he does is stare at Harry’s balcony. He doesn’t even have to feign like he’s not looking because it’s empty, absence of its owner’s presence for the past two weeks. Harry doesn’t even put up his laundry anymore. Maybe he finally decided to purchase a dryer or maybe he used laundry services nowadays. Louis has no idea, they haven’t been talking since that fateful night. Worse, he couldn’t even catch a glimpse of Harry and Cirilla. He knows how fast a baby grows up and by the next time he sees Cirilla she’ll probably be able to stand on her own. And that is a big if . At this point, it feels like what they had before was a fever dream and it’s impossible for him to see them again. With one quick snap of a finger, he loses everything.
Knowing how much Harry and Cirilla like their evening walk in the park, Louis even waited for them at the elevator lobby before going to his evening run. It took him three days to realise that they weren’t coming and Harry really wanted nothing to do with him anymore.
Sighing, Louis takes one last look at the empty balcony. He has to forget about Harry and move on. If Harry finds it too hard to forgive him - mind you, his neighbour didn’t even say that it was Louis’ fault - then there’s nothing else Louis can do. It’s a dead end anyway. He knows Harry enough to realise that if Harry doesn’t want to be found by Louis, he won’t be.
✽
Hearing the knock on the door, Louis takes one last look at his living room before walking towards the front door. His Nan and younger siblings are visiting today and his house tends to be a product of a single man living alone, which has become the reason for his Nan’s nagging every time she comes visiting. With how things have been progressing over the last couple of weeks, he would really like it if everything goes smoothly today.
Louis opens the door, smiling at the exuberant cheer of his youngest twins, in the older twins’ arms, upon looking at his face.
“Good morning, Louis. I haven’t seen you in a while!” His Nan says, pulling Louis into a tight hug before he can invite her in. “You haven’t been calling your old Nan as often as you did, you forgetful kid,” she mumbles close to his ear, patting and rubbing Louis’ back repeatedly.
That was because of Harry. Louis had been occupied with their evening walks and chatting with him on the balcony every evening. When it turned dark, he knew what his Nan’s schedule looked like, corralling the kids to eat their dinner then getting them to go do their night routine before going to bed. He didn’t want to bother her.
“I will do better,” he promises as his Nan lets him go out of her bear hug.
Frowning, she grumbles, “Hush you.” She swats Louis’ bicep softly, “I didn’t mean for you to call me more. I mean to hear you getting busy dating or something.”
And here it comes. “Nan…” Louis warns, moving from the front door to invite his family in.
“What? You are a thirty years old lad that should be building his own family,” she continues, persistent as ever. “Not drawing another skyscraper in Dublin that I haven’t gotten the chance to see,” she tacks on, walking into the hallway, following Louis’ other siblings.
Louis shakes his head, using the only chance he has of being alone before his Nan berates him again. Dorris rushes over to him once Phoebe sets her down on the floor, tiny hands reaching out to Louis to be carried.
Louis chuckles, bending down to pick her up. “You are so heavy, Dor,” he teases, heaving her in his arms before blowing raspberries on her rose pink cheek.
She giggles, hands fisted against Louis’ clean shaven jaw. “Achoo! I’m not!” she mumbles, pushing Louis’ face away. “Phee says I’m not,” she explains, a frustrated index finger pointing to the living room where Phoebe is.
Louis kisses Dorris’s chubby cheek, making loud exaggerated kissing noises against her skin and she guffaws once more, forgetting about Phoebe and what Louis said earlier.
What he doesn’t expect though is to lock eyes with the person walking in front of his flat. Out of all the people living on the same floor as him, he sees Harry. Harry with his mother pushing a stroller as he’s carrying a sleeping Cirilla in his arms. Cirilla must have been throwing tantrums from being stuck in the seat for so long so Harry took her out. There was nothing that could soothe the little girl except her mother’s embrace and once upon a time, Louis’.
Harry smiles at Louis, giving him a curt nod as an acknowledgment of his presence, but never says a greeting.
Being a bigger person that he was planning to be, Louis smiles at Harry, a polite one he hopes, instead of the grimace he feels taking over his heart with every additional second he watches Harry. Without looking at Harry any longer than he should, Louis shuts the door, turning the lock to restrain himself from going out and asking Harry about what had happened between them.
He knows what happened, he is just still unable to accept it. He will though, soon enough.
“Hmm?” Louis asks, raising his eyebrow at Daisy. He registers her voice, that much his brain can still decipher and he knows she was asking something. It’s just he’s having a hard time trying to focus on anyone.
“Which one is for the Xbox?” Phoebe asks, standing close to the telly screen, a hand propped on her hip. They must have been trying to search for the right channel for a while.
“Oh, sorry. Let me do it,” Louis quickly says, taking the remote from Daisy’s hand.
Trying to feign interest in watching the video game his sisters are playing is pointless when his mind is in shambles, so Louis stands. “Are you guys hungry? Let me order some pizza,” he says, smiling at the loud yes echoing in his living room. He ruffles Phoebe’s hair who sits closest to him, chuckling when she swats his hand, her eyes murderous.
Louis pulls out the takeaway menu from the drawer, noting his younger sibling’s favourites. Hearing footsteps coming into the kitchen, he looks up, smiling at his Nan.
“Do you want anything?” Louis asks. “They have amazing mushroom soup,” he suggests, pointing to the picture included in the bottom part of the menu.
His Nan just shakes her head, gesturing for Louis to continue ordering while she pulls out the stool at his kitchen island.
Louis squints his eyes, suspicious, but he continues calling the restaurant to place an order. He has hungry tiny mouths to feed and whatever his Nan concocted can wait, and it’s not like Louis can escape even if he wants to.
Finishing with his call, Louis stores the menu back in the drawer, arching his eyebrows at his Nan who is watching him intently.
“What?” She asks, frowning.
Louis crosses his arms against his chest, rolling his eyes. “I know there’s something you want to say, or else you wouldn’t trail after me.”
“Maybe I’m just worried that you might order pizzas for the whole block,” she snaps without any heat. If anyone wonders where Louis got his sass, they should meet his Nan.
“Do you want a cuppa?” Louis asks and because he knows his Nan, he takes out the mugs from the cabinet before she can even answer. Just like Louis, she never says no to a steaming hot tea. “While you talk my ear off?” He continues, grinning when his Nan scoffs at him.
“Are you really okay, Louis?”
The thing with his Nan is - which Louis has long adapted to her style - she means business when she starts ending her questions with his name. That means no joke, or deflection. She just wants an honest answer.
“I’m fine,” Louis mumbles, turning on the water tap and filling the kettle.
“You haven’t been calling me much lately,” she states. “Were you doing your work until late? Again?”
Louis takes a glance over his shoulder, looking at his Nan’s pointed glare. “I was busy, not for work,” he clarifies before his Nan prods more. “I was spending time with my neighbour.” He places the kettle on the counter, turns on the switch, and a soft bubbling sound immediately comes out of it.
“Just now? The one with the baby?”
Louis whips his head to his Nan. “How do you know him?”
His Nan shrugs her shoulders. “Well, I was waiting for the elevator with the kids and he volunteered to let us go through first because you know - my age. I was talking with Harry and his mum and he mentioned he’s your neighbour.”
“Nice fella by the way,” his Nan adds, like an afterthought.
Louis snorts, gesturing his hand that it’s okay. “That’s fine. We won’t work out.”
“Because of the baby?”
Louis shakes his head. The image of Cirilla’s dimpled smile the first time Harry brought her out to the balcony crosses his mind. “His daughter loves me. I think it’s probably Harry. We were close,” Louis coughs when he remembers the last time they were close. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he continues, “And I think that made him uncomfortable.”
Louis’ Nan hums, folding her hands on the white counter. She props her chin on her palm and with a soft smile, she advises, “All single parents are like that, you know. They are cautious of new people in their life because they are raising a kid and they don’t want to bring anyone who might not even last in their life. Especially new parents. They are so focused on raising their kids, they forget about themselves.”
If there’s anything he learned from the last few months hanging out with Harry and Cirilla, he knows the truth of his Nan’s words. Harry wouldn’t even let himself sigh in front of his daughter, let alone put himself first above her.
“If you already tried your best, just give him time, yeah? If he feels as strongly as you, it will be just a matter of time.”
✽
A loud knock coming from his front door yanks Louis from his nap. He wakes up disoriented, staring a little bit too long at his front door instead of actually checking who’s knocking. It’s just ten in the morning, but his siblings and Nan left not more than half an hour ago and Louis had forgotten how tiring it is to entertain four younger siblings.
The knocks come again and this time Louis curses inwardly. “Coming!” He says, voice slightly raised as he walks to the hallway.
Without using the peephole, Louis opens the door, yawning and asking at the same time. “Yes?”
“Oh,” Harry fish-mouths. His eyes are drawn to Louis’ naked torso and fuck , why didn’t he pick something to wear before taking a nap?
Closing the door slightly, Louis hides his body behind the door. “I was taking a nap,” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound like a pervert for opening the door with only a loose pair of joggers on that are barely holding on to his hips.
Harry clears his throat and with his gaze resolutely locked on Louis’ face, he spits in one practised breath, “Can I ask for your help to take care of Ciri today? My mum was supposed to come and take care of her, but she had a work emergency and I have to handle the book tour.” Flicking his eyes to the ground, he continues in a lower voice, “I’m not comfortable bringing her to the bookstore with me, it’s going to be packed with people today.”
“Hey, that’s fine. I can take care of her,” Louis assures, waving off Harry’s concern easily. “It’s no big deal.”
Harry nibbles on his bottom lip nervously, eyes flickering between Louis’ face and the door, as if he’s debating between trying to say something or not.
“Is there anything else?” Louis guesses.
Taking a deep inhale, Harry mutters, “Is it okay if you take care of her while staying at my house? It’s just that she has her playpen and all her toys there. She’s teething, so she has been really fussy this week.”
Louis may have four younger siblings, and he may have taken care of them in the past, but he kept none of their toys other than Dorris’ fox plushie that she made him promise to not throw away. He doubts Cirilla will be happy with one stuffed toy.
Louis nods, agreeing. “Yeah, sure. Give me ten to get ready and I’ll be there.”
Hearing Louis’ answer, Harry looks like he’s about to jump. His smile is so wide, it shows off his bunny teeth and the craters in his cheeks are deep and prominent. It’s been a while since the last time Louis has seen his genuine smile.
And like everything between them is magically mended, Harry enthusiastically waves his hand like the early good days. “Great! Thank you so much! See you!”
Louis takes exactly eight minutes to shower and get dressed in a white t-shirt with black joggers. His hair is still damp by the time he knocks on Harry’s door with his laptop under his arm. He doesn’t want to get bored while Cirilla naps or plays, and he would rather not go snooping around Harry’s house to find something to pass the time.
Harry opens the door with a grumpy Cirilla in his arms, her adorable face all scrunched up, tiny fists holding on tightly to Harry’s neck. “Oh great! You’re here. Come on in!” Harry beckons Louis in, a soft smile ever present on his lips.
Seeing Louis, Cirilla squirms, hands reaching out to Louis. Before Louis can even step in the house, Cirilla wails, flailing her hands and kicking her feet.
Harry hands Cirilla to Louis, almost getting kicked in the process from Cirilla violently twisting her body out of his grip.
“Sssh, what got you so upset, darling? Lou is here,” Louis coos, wiping Cirilla’s tears stained cheeks with his thumb.
“Here,” Harry says, handing Louis a cold teething toy before walking back to the kitchen, gesturing to Louis to follow after him. “That usually calms her down. I have a bunch of them in the fridge. Once she throws it on the floor -” Harry looks over his shoulder, continuing, “which she will, just clean it up, and pop it back in the fridge.”
Stuffing her mouth with the cold toy, Cirilla stops her wails as she bites her soft toy, producing a soft nibbling sound that makes Louis smile at her. Her wide green eyes stare at Louis, and he blows raspberries on her cheek, making her giggle.
“There’s milk in the freezer. I have jotted down the instructions and stuck that on the fridge,” Harry states, pointing to the humongous yellow A4 sheet on the fridge door.
Louis presses his lips together to avoid bursting out a laugh at the bold title MILK HOW-TO’S , written in red marker.
“Shoot, I’m late. I have to go,” Harry strides to the living area, snatching his handbag from the couch. With a phone in his hand, he turns his head to Louis, demanding, “Give me your phone number. I will send you her schedule while I’m on the train. I probably will call you every time I’m free to check up on her, so please bear with me.”
Reciting his phone number from memory, Louis ends it with an assurance, “Ciri will be in good hands. Don’t worry.”
Harry nods, his face serious when he mumbles, “I know. I trust you.” Bending down, he gives Cirilla’s chubby cheeks loud smooches and she chortles excitedly, waving her teething toy to Harry. “Bye, love. Mummy will be back as soon as possible, okay? Be good for Lou. I love you so much, Ciri.”
Louis sends Harry off at the front door, using Cirilla’s hand to wave at him as he looks back, giving numerous flying kisses to Cirilla even though he’s supposedly late.
“While your mummy works out your schedule, let’s get started on your milk because I don’t want you to be hungry and angry at the same time,” Louis says to the wide eyed baby in his hands.
She laughs, as if understanding what Louis is saying before putting the toy back in her mouth, biting and nibbling the soft silicone. Louis grazes the toy with his index finger, making sure that it’s still cold to provide Cirilla’s sore gums some relief.
Louis is just settling on the sofa with the nursing pillow and Cirilla on his lap when his phone rings. He extends a hand, reaching out to the small accent table on the side of the sofa. Cirilla laughs seeing how difficult it is to reach it.
“That’s your mummy, you know,” Louis mumbles, tugging her bib and dabbing her cheek, bubbling with milk because of her titter.
Pressing the screen to accept the call, he is greeted with Harry’s voice, except it’s all hushed because Harry is whispering. “What are you guys doing? Can we switch to FaceTime?”
“Sure,” Louis answers, propping his phone on the nursing pillow. The pillow is big and Cirilla is snuggled close to his chest.
“Oh! Look at those tiny hands holding her own bottle,” Harry gushes, his smile wide even though his voice is still hushed. He looks like he’s in some kind of a store room, filled with taped and open boxes.
Louis brings the phone closer, angling it so that Harry can see Cirilla’s face. “Is that bib on her neck?” Harry asks, his voice higher, almost like a whisper shout.
Louis looks down to Cirilla, her eyes half-lidded and her blinking sluggish. “Uh - yeah. There’s plenty in her room. I thought you always made her wear one.” Should he have not? Louis doesn’t ask the question out loud though, he doesn’t want to make Harry go hysterical.
“I - sometimes. Most of the time, she’s too hungry and grouchy to even wear her bib,” Harry mutters softly. “Good thing Lou is prepared, yeah, Ciri?”
Before Harry can stay and watch his daughter’s feeding any longer, a knock comes from his side of the phone and he grunts. “That’s my cue. Goodbye, Ciri. Be good for Lou.”
Louis smiles looking at Cirilla’s eyes staring at his phone screen, she must have recognised Harry’s voice coming from it. That is until Harry’s demanding voice comes, “Lou, I need to see your face.”
“What’s wrong?” Louis asks, turning the phone toward his face.
Harry gives him that brilliant megawatt dimpled smile. “Nothing. She looks happy. Thank you.” He swiftly ends the call after that, leaving Louis staring at his own face.
“Your mummy really has a mood , doesn’t he?” Louis utters, angling Cirilla’s bottle higher so she can finish her milk.
Burping Cirilla is easier than what he’s used to with his younger siblings and after checking the schedule Harry has sent him, including the notes on how to put his daughter down for a nap, Louis prepares Cirilla for her nap. Navigating which one of the rooms is Cirilla’s is easy because of their house’s similar layout and stepping into the nursery, Louis puts her in her sleeping sack before placing her in the crib. He closes the curtain, making sure the room is pitch black so Cirilla can fall asleep.
“Good bye, love. Have a good nap, yeah?” Louis whispers, kissing his fingertips and pressing it to Cirilla’s forehead. Aided by the light from the opened door, he takes a picture of Cirilla laying in her crib, sending it off to Harry, chuckling when he receives an instant reply, three rows of smiling faces with hearts.
He brings the baby monitor with him to the kitchen while he tries to figure out his lunch. Harry didn’t say anything about cooking or leftovers and it feels out of his place to ask about it. The guy is probably busy handling his bookstore.
Opening the fridge, there’s several rows of glass containers and judging by the look of it, they’re filled with meal prep. Louis closes it back.
He’s going to order in. It’s been a while since the last time he ate McDonald’s anyway.
✽
It’s closing eight in the evening when Louis hears the sound of someone unlocking the front door. Glancing at the baby monitor on the side out of habit, he prays that the sound isn’t loud enough to pull Cirilla from her sleep. He managed to put Cirilla to bed only an hour earlier, after her ceaseless crying and squirming as Louis tried to put her onesie on. The only reason she is asleep right now is probably because her tiny lungs are tired of wailing. He doesn’t know what ticked her off, but the happy baby he took care of earlier today was gone after the third bottle of the day.
“Ciri? Lou?” Harry’s deep voice comes in as soon as the door opens.
Louis shushes him with his index finger on his mouth and Harry’s tired eyes widen, making a motion of zipping his mouth.
“Is she asleep?” He whispers, taking a seat across from Louis.
Louis nods, clicking on the trackpad to save his drawing. “I put her down at seven.” Taking care of Cirilla took a lot of his energy today and all he has been doing for the past hour was adding two lines for the swimming pool area.
Harry winces, probably knowing what Cirilla looks like when it’s about her bedtime. “Was she grouchy?”
Louis chuckles. “She was screaming her whole heart out.”
“Well, that’s her new antic. Welcome to parenthood,” Harry mumbles, a soft smile grazing his lips.
Feeling Harry’s eyes on him, Louis flicks his eyes to his neighbour, asking, “What?”
The smile turns into a grin, dimples popping on his cheeks. “I didn’t know you wear glasses. Never seen you with them on before.”
Louis arches his eyebrows. He closes the laptop and places it on the accent table, pulling off his glasses and setting them on top of his laptop. “Not anymore.”
Harry’s lips turn into a pout and an adorable scrunch between his eyebrows is created. “But you look so hot wearing glasses.”
Snorting, Louis shakes his head. It’s good to see Harry is back to his old self, cheeky and full of life, which hopefully means whatever happened between them has been forgotten. Harry looks like he could use some rest though, his green eyes are tired, the under eye area dark, and he’s definitely slouching in the seat.
Standing, Louis picks up his phone, slipping it into the pocket of his joggers. “I should go. You should have some rest,” he says, picking up his laptop and glasses.
Harry swiftly stands, hands gesticulating wildly, stopping Louis to leave. “No, no. Stay. Have you had dinner? I’ll make something for you.”
“Uh - H…” Louis’ protest dies in his mouth as Harry strides into the kitchen, ignoring him. Louis already had his dinner, the McDonald’s that he ordered at noon which he ate while Cirilla was playing in the playpen. Before she went berserk, that is.
“Fuck.”
Alarmed by Harry’s sudden curse, Louis strides into the kitchen with his laptop and glasses in hand. “H?” Louis asks, cautious from the clear frustration marred on Harry’s face just from staring at the McDonald’s wrapper in the waste bin.
Moving his feet from the waste bin pedal, Harry turns to him. “I didn’t tell you anything about the meals, did I? God, why didn’t you ask?” His voice raises slightly towards the end, his emotion getting the better part of him.
“Sssh. Ciri,” Louis reminds him, placing his laptop and glasses on the counter, and Harry huffs in exasperation, rolling his eyes.
“Why didn’t you ask?” Harry presses further, wrapping his arms around himself.
“Because it’s not a big deal, H. I live on takeouts, which is -” Louis closes his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, “fine.” He can’t believe he has to explain himself for ordering fast food.
“You make me feel bad,” Harry mumbles under his breath.
Louis furrows his eyebrows. He’s pretty sure he heard what Harry said right, even though he doesn’t know what Harry means by it. “I make you feel bad?” He echoes.
Harry purses his lips, eyes flickering from Louis’ face to the ground like every other time he’s debating with himself.
“Because?” Louis prompts, his feet moving closer to where Harry is standing when he notices tears glistening in Harry’s eyes.
“I was so busy sending you everything about Ciri. I was so focused on her that I didn’t even think about you. That was so selfish of me,” Harry admits, wiping the stray tears leaking down his cheeks.
Louis’ heart clenches at seeing Harry’s tears. He has seen Harry displaying so many emotions, but most of the time - he was so jovial, always trying his best for his daughter. “H…” Louis starts, sighing softly. There’s no one else in the world that takes things as hard as Harry does for himself. “I really -”
Harry raises a hand. “Let me finish, please. I just really need -” he chides, taking a deep breath before continuing, “to get this off my chest.”
Louis nods, gesturing with his hand for Harry to continue.
“When I decided to keep Ciri, I promised myself that I would never put anyone above her. I would be the only parent that she would ever need in her life. And then, I met you.” Harry shakes his head, laughing mirthlessly. “And you made me wonder how it was going to look if she had another parent. Which is insane because she’s not even one yet, she needs all of my attention, and I’m in no place to have a new relationship. For God sake, this is not even my first time asking for your help and then completely being a bitch about it.” A fake smile is plastered on Harry’s lips, one that doesn’t reach his green eyes.
“And you made me feel bad because every time I see you - my heart tells me that I want you, but my mind - God, my mind tells me I shouldn’t. You are so nice to us, and I keep taking advantage of your kindness, and I keep thinking of having you all for myself. Like - who wants a boyfriend with a six month old baby?” Harry throws his hands in the air, clearly frustrated. Covering his face with his palm, he groans into it to mute the sound of his exasperation bubbling over.
“Now that I’ve embarrassed myself, you can go,” Harry professes, giving a dismissive wave of his hand.
Louis doesn’t even have to think before he decides. “I do,” he answers firmly, taking Harry’s hand and linking their fingers together when Harry tries to jerk his hand away. “I want to be with you and your six month old baby.”
Confusion clouds Harry’s face with the way his eyebrows scrunch up, pink lips twisted. “But-”
Louis tuts, shaking his head as he pulls Harry into his embrace. “I’m not a child that needs your utmost care. I understand that your priority is Ciri, and…” Pulling back, he cradles Harry’s face gently, tipping Harry’s face to look at him. “Both of you will be my priority. Always,” he promises, eyes locked with Harry’s glassy green eyes. “I want to be with you and Ciri,” he whispers into the quiet of Harry’s kitchen.
The dam holding back Harry’s tears breaks and soon enough, Louis has to rub Harry’s back as he cries his heart out, babbling almost incoherently between hiccups that he hadn’t had a good sleep since their fight, saying Cirilla must have known it too because one day she wouldn’t stop holding a toy that Louis bought her, screaming her lungs out when Harry tried to take it away.
✽
When Louis said to Cirilla that your mummy really has a mood, he didn’t mean it like this.
Harry is spread eagle on the bed, only in his matching panties and nursing bra. All black, suitable for the vixen he is. His eyes pointedly looking at Louis’ lower half that is magically still covered in fabric.
“Take them off before you climb on the bed,” Harry demands, cocking his head. A pout is forming slowly, but surely on his lips. “I haven’t seen your cock and you have seen mine. Twice.” With that, his bottom lip dramatically protrudes.
This - progression is less than two hours out from Harry crying in the kitchen. Finally getting his emotions under control, he tugged Louis’ hand, guiding him into his room. Stepping over the threshold of his master bedroom, Harry immediately stripped out of his clothes, encouraging Louis to do the same. As evident, Harry was a tad faster undressing compared to Louis. Staring at the gorgeous sight in front of him though, Louis can’t complain.
“What if I have a small cock? It’s too late to back out from admitting you have feelings for me,” Louis teases, slipping his thumb into the waistband of his joggers. “Or making me your boyfriend.”
Instead of the loud cackle he’s expecting, Harry’s face turns red, a mischievous smile curling his lips.
“Babe?” Louis questions, stepping out of his joggers, leaving his briefs on. His cock is half hard and he would really like to have Harry’s appreciative stare directed at his cock, only if he answers Louis’ question.
Harry whines, kicking his legs when Louis climbs into bed without taking off his briefs. “No… Lou!”
Louis shushes him and Harry grunts, biting his bottom lip. The last thing they both need is Cirilla waking up.
“Tell me,” Louis enunciates, grazing his knuckles over Harry’s lower tummy. There are a few lines of stretch marks left from carrying Cirilla, grey in hue, and because he is Harry, he just preens under the touch.
“You remember when you were milking me? And you wrapped your hand around my waist? I could feel your cock against my thigh,” Harry smirks, proud of himself it seems.
Louis snorts. “Oh, my new boyfriend is a pro at judging cock without looking now? How convenient.”
“No.” Harry slaps Louis’ shoulder softly, a soft smile curling his lips and his voice sweet like honey when he whispers, “But it felt like it has a nice weight to it, you know.”
Too entranced by the slight pudge of Harry’s tummy and all his curves, Louis doesn’t even notice Harry slipping his sneaky hand into his briefs. When Harry’s warm hand brushes his member, he curses, bucking forward into Harry’s hand. And nobody can’t blame Louis - it’s been a while since the last time his cock has felt someone else’s hand.
Harry’s eyes twinkle with mirth and he turns to his side, making it easier for his hand to circle the base of Louis’ cock. “Ohhh - that feels promising. Does it not?”
His position makes his tits spill out of his nursing bras and Louis is nothing but a weak man tonight. He tugs his briefs off without looking, haphazardly throwing them behind him as he gets into position, facing Harry and his perfectly full tits.
“Are you full?” Louis asks, his hands tracing the upper part of the mound, smirking at the goosebumps rising on Harry’s skin.
Harry hums, distracted. “I only managed to pump right before I came back home and it was just a bit, just to relieve the pain.” He flicks his eyes to Louis’s face before his gaze returns to Louis’ crotch. “That’s such a thick cock,” he whispers, awestruck.
Louis chuckles. He has heard that once or twice from the strangers he brought home after being so long in a dry spell.
“Can I milk you?” Louis blurts out, immediately regretting his question upon seeing how fast Harry’s eyes snap back to his face.
“You really are into lactation kink?” Harry enunciates, disbelief trickling into his tone.
Louis’ brows furrow. He hasn’t put any label on his infatuation with Harry’s tits. But if there’s a word, maybe that’s it. “I guess,” he answers, shrugging with one shoulder now that he’s lying on his side.
Harry lets out an uncontrollable bark of laughter, so loud and hearty that Louis’ hands fly to his mouth to stifle the sound. Harry’s room is exactly opposite from Cirilla’s room. He loves Cirilla dearly, but his cock is steadily leaking at the sight of Harry’s tits jiggling with his laugh and he would much rather get to come tonight.
“Why are you laughing?” Louis asks, wiping the exuberant tears escaping from Harry’s eyes.
Harry snickers, tugging Louis’ hand. “Come here, straddle me.” With a hand threading through Louis’ hair and a grin on his pink lips, Harry explains, “I thought you were offering just because you thought you had to, you know. Like - you had to help me.”
Louis bites the top of Harry’s breast playfully. “Most people will just offer to get you a breast pump, you know? Not milk you dry. With their mouth.”
Harry hums, a playful smile curling his lips and he fists his hand in Louis’ hair. “Milk me dry, then. With your mouth,” he whispers filthily, so close to Louis’ ear that he can feel Harry’s warm breath against his skin.
Now that he doesn’t have to put a stop to himself, Louis’ fingers undo the clips of Harry’s nursing bra, hearing Harry’s loud chuckle at how adept he is even though he hasn’t done this before. Tracing the curve of Harry’s breast, Louis thumbs his hardened nub. There’s already some pearly white milk on the tip and Louis licks the milk off his nipple, smirking with the way Harry arches his body.
“Don’t tease me,” Harry whines, his large hands rubbing all over Louis’ body, pulling him close like he’s trying to suffocate Louis with his tits.
Louis wraps his tongue around Harry’s nipple, and his suckling starts slow as the sweet taste of Harry’s milk trickles into his mouth.
Harry hisses and his hands on Louis’ body go lax from the pressure released from his breast.
Louis uses his hand to squeeze Harry’s tit, sending milk gushing out of the nipple, causing Harry to moan loudly. “That’s so good. Fuck, we are so compatible together,” he babbles, his cock growing hard underneath Louis, the soft fabric of his panties damp with precome.
Now that one side is milked and the stream is thinning out after a relatively hard squeeze, Louis pulls off, ready to do the same to the other side. Harry’s brown nipple looks puffy from nursing him and he traces the edge of the areola, gently pinching the nipple. Little drops of milk drip to the underside of Harry’s body.
“It’s like your supply never finishes,” Louis mumbles, mesmerised by the way Harry’s body keeps producing milk even after he thought he sucked Harry’s tit dry.
Harry raises his head, his eyes blown and dark, looking at the way Louis’ fingers manipulate his nipple. “I have a lube and condom in my bedside table - the drawer,” he breathes out, eyes rolling to the back of his head when Louis’ fingers become harsh, fondling the other side of his full tit none too gently.
“Someone likes it rough,” Louis notes before pulling away, moving up Harry’s body so he can reach the bedside table.
Seeing the golden expanse of Louis’ skin right in front of his eyes, Harry takes his chance, laving his tongue over the juncture of Louis’ neck. The nibbles start not long after and next thing he knows, Harry has already left a dark mark on Louis.
Tracing the purple mark blooming on the surface of Louis’ skin with the pad of his finger, Harry replies innocently to Louis’ remark, “Do I?”
Louis chuckles, bending down to peck a kiss on Harry’s lips. “Let me prep you.”
Harry nods, his hands moving to his panties and Louis swats them away. “I’ll take them off,” he grits out.
Louis presses soft kisses as he peels Harry’s sticky panties down his endless legs. His skin is delicate against Louis’ lips and whatever Harry puts on his skin before leaving for work smells very nice. When they aren’t so desperate, Louis is going to take his time worshipping every inch of Harry’s skin, starting with his sexy legs.
“Faster,” Harry coaxes Louis, legs kicking once he’s free from the confinement of his panties. His hard cock slaps against his tummy, the cock head shining with precome. He spread his legs apart before Louis could say anything, his feet flat against the bedsheet.
When Louis doesn’t move from between Harry’s legs, he props up his head, his eyebrows arched, questioning. God, he truly is a vixen.
“Lou, can you make it faster -” Harry’s demanding tone is replaced by a loud mewl, one he immediately puts a stop to by slapping his hand over his mouth after Louis pushes a lubed finger inside him.
“What were you saying?” Louis asks, smirking.
It’s so easy to find Harry’s prostate and a little brush against the bundle of nerves makes Harry’s whole body shudder, his eyes clenched shut from the pleasure.
“Nnghh , more please,” Harry begs, pressing his lips together when Louis eases the second finger into him, scissoring in and out of his hole.
Seeing how Harry’s hole envelops his fingers, Louis traces Harry’s puckered rim with his other hand. “You are so tight, baby.”
“Stop calling me that,” Harry snaps.
“What? Why?” Louis asks. His fingers automatically stop scissoring Harry’s hole and he pulls out his hand.
Harry grunts frustratedly from the emptiness, slamming his fist against the bedsheet. With his head raised and a very deep frown between his eyebrows, he grits out, “Because I’m going to come before I even have your thick cock inside me and I don’t want that. Okay? Now, continue, please.”
Louis snorts, squeezing out another dollop of lube on his fingers before pushing in again with three fingers. Harry is so tight and he knows that he is the first person to be with Harry since he delivered Cirilla.
“Babe.”
“Hmm…” Harry’s eyes are closed, his bottom lip between his teeth to contain his whimpers.
“How long has it been since you were with someone?”
Harry cracks an eye open. “Since my second - nnghh - month of pregnancy,” he answers between panting breaths. Seeing the furrow between Louis’ eyebrows, Harry’s purses his lips and when Louis bends down to kiss him, he murmurs against Louis’ lips, “I’ll tell you if it gets uncomfortable.”
It takes several minutes staring into Harry’s green irises and scrutinising the sincerity written on his face before Louis nods, trusting Harry to take care of himself. “Just so you know, I’m good at deep throating and you can still come even if I don’t fuck you tonight.”
Harry snorts, unimpressed. “Good to know, but I’m not interested in that tonight. Thank you,” he remarks.
Pecking Harry’s swollen lips one more time, Louis pulls back, tearing the condom wrapper open and rolling it on his length.
Harry’s eyes are staring at him, unblinking as Louis coats his cock with lube. “Unbelievable. You have the thickest shaft I have ever seen in real life.”
Propping his hands on either side of Harry, Louis gets into position. “And I can’t believe how filthy your mouth is,” he mumbles, using his hand to guide his cock into Harry’s hole. The moment he pushes in, it’s like he is at the precipice of heaven. Stars fill his blackened gaze and the only thing he can feel is the warmth of Harry’s hole and how fucking tight he is.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” Louis grits out against Harry’s jaw, groaning deep in his throat when Harry clenches around him. He hasn’t even moved and this is how amazing it feels already.
“I’m so fucking full,” Harry pants out, exhaling a heavy breath through his mouth.
Louis gives them both some time to adjust to the feeling before asking, “You good? Can I move?”
Harry nods and his eyes flutter shut just from the first piston of Louis’ hips. With each of Louis’ thrusts, Harry’s tits bounce obscenely, the full side trickling a thin stream of milk between them and Louis ducks his head, laving his tongue over Harry’s breast, licking the drops of milk.
The grip on his cock gets tighter and Louis wraps his lips around Harry’s nipple, massaging the hard nub with his tongue before sucking, and now that he knows Harry likes it hard, his suction is tight and strong from the first pull.
With his nipple being stimulated and Louis thrusting right into his prostate, Harry’s body arches off the bed, his mewl getting so loud that Louis has to pull off of his nipple and smash their lips together instead. He is pretty sure that Harry can taste his own milk on Louis’ lips as Louis savours his moan. His fingers find their way to Harry’s breast and he squeezes the swollen curve, feeling his fingers getting wet with milk. Harry is so fucking responsive, in a way that Louis thought was only possible in porn videos.
Just like the first time Louis made Harry come, Harry’s body grows taut when he’s nearing his orgasm, his hands flat against Louis’ back before his long fingers curl halfway, marking Louis’ skin with his nails. On a particularly deep thrust, Harry’s nails press harder and Louis knows he’s going to feel that in the shower tomorrow.
Tearing his lips from Harry, Louis brushes Harry’s matted curls from his forehead as he mumbles, “Come for me, baby. It’s your turn to milk me. Let me feel your tight little hole clenching around me.”
Harry gasps, biting his bottom lip hard enough that it turns white under his teeth. Slipping a hand between them, the one that is still sticky with Harry’s drying milk, Louis curls his hand around Harry’s length and Harry’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he shoots warm come between them, his hole clenching impossibly tight, and Louis spills into the condom, pressing his own lips together to stifle his satisfied groan.
Pulling out, Louis rolls over, taking off his condom and tying it. He walks the short distance to toss it in the bin at the corner of Harry’s room.
Seeing Harry lounging on the bed like a sleepy cat, Louis puts a pause on his plan to take a shower. He can do that later. He wants to enjoy the sight presented before him first. “I have to admit that I jerked off to you.”
Harry turns his head to him, beckoning his fingers to Louis. “How many times?”
Perching on the edge of the bed, Louis answers, “Once.” He is sure if he focuses hard enough, he can still picture the way Harry bent down to pick the clips up and how it accentuated the curve of his tits. The start of everything.
Harry raises his eyebrows slightly. Like he’s surprised. “Oh good. I did that too.” Or maybe not.
Louis whips his head to Harry, fast enough that he feels a crick in his neck. “You what?”
“Yeah, remember when we bumped into each other at the park? You were all sweaty and hot and you were pushing the stroller while playing with Ciri?” Harry divulges, his mouth in a lopsided grin. “Fuck, I’m getting hard just thinking about that day,” he mumbles. His soft cock resting between his legs twitches weakly.
Louis shakes his head. He remembers Harry’s beaten red face when they saw each other though. Bending down, he kisses Harry’s lips. After the sex they just had, the kiss is supposed to be sweet and soft. But not with this vixen , he muses as he feels long fingers travelling to his crotch and Harry moans into their kiss, pulling off just to comment, “You are still hard.”
Looking down, he realises his cock is still slightly hard. Nothing that a short trip to the bathroom wouldn’t settle. “A little bit, yeah.”
“You don’t go soft immediately after?” Harry props his head on his hand, eyes wild and curious.
Standing up, Louis shrugs his shoulders. “Depends. It’s just been a while since I had sex.”
Harry scoffs. “Oh yeah, not because you finally got to fuck the MILF of your dreams?” He quips, a smug smile tugging his lips.
If Louis had any more energy after taking care of Cirilla and Harry , he would have made Harry eat his witty remark. Shaking his head, Louis snorts. “Babe. Get up. Let me clean you up.”
Harry pouts because Louis doesn’t take his bait, but he circles Louis’ waist from behind as they walk to the en suite together, smearing his drying come and milk all over the fresh nail indents on Louis’ back.
✽
Louis is roused awake by the soft sound of a baby whimpering coming from the baby monitor on Harry’s bedside table. Thinking that Cirilla probably will go back to sleep on her own, Louis pulls Harry into his embrace, smiling to himself when Harry sighs softly in his sleep, burrowing his face into Louis’ neck. It’s the first night they’ve spent together and Harry has been so cuddly since the moment they stepped into the ensuite. He can get used to this. Louis pecks a kiss on Harry’s forehead, his eyes fluttering shut once again, ready for the hazy feeling of a sleep to overtake his senses.
Until the whimpers turn into a loud wail.
Harry wakes up groggily, disentangling himself from Louis with a hand covering his big yawn. His eyes are half-closed and Louis’ heart clenches thinking about the countless nights Harry has had to wake up to soothe Cirilla even when his body is running on low sleep.
Tugging Harry’s hand to make him stay in bed, Louis kisses the crown of his hair. “I’ll pick her up. Do you want to nurse her? Or can I use the bottle warmer?”
Harry shakes his head, stifling another yawn with the back of his hand. “Bring her here. I haven’t nursed her today. I miss her,” he drawls out with his eyes still closed, voice deep from sleep.
Using the ray of light coming from the ensuite, Louis navigates his way out of the master bedroom and to Cirilla’s room.
“What’s wrong, love? Are you hungry?” Louis coos, picking Cirilla up from her crib. Her face is red and blotchy with tears running down her chubby cheeks. “We will meet mummy, okay?” Louis coaxes her, rubbing her back gently.
Stepping back into the master bedroom, the light on Harry’s bedside table is switched on, washing the room in a dim yellow hue. Harry is already leaning against his pillow, propped up against the headboard.
“Oh, poor baby. Come here,” Harry opens his arms, cooing at Cirilla’s scrunched up face. Once he fully unbuttons his pyjama top, he gets Cirilla to snuggle close to his chest, placating her with some skin to skin contact as he angles her for easier latching.
There’s something lacking from today’s feeding and as Louis sits and watches, he realises what that is. “Oh, let me get your breast pump.”
Harry looks up from brushing Cirilla’s curly hair, a soft smile grazing his lips as he mumbles his gratitude.
Grabbing Harry’s breast pump from the kitchen and a muslin from Cirilla’s dresser, Louis climbs back on the bed, movement careful to not jostle Harry and Cirilla who looks so serene in their nursing routine. Harry’s eyes are closed, but his fingers are still softly brushing Cirilla’s hair.
There’s some milk dripping from the side of Harry’s breast that is not being sucked on, being absorbed by the pyjama top bunched up around his tummy. Louis looks from the silicone breast pump in his hand to Harry’s exposed breast. He can try to do it from memory, but he’s afraid of doing it wrong and hurting Harry in the process.
“Babe,” Louis calls, touching Harry’s hand.
Harry opens his eyes. “Hmm?”
“How do you do this?” Louis asks, raising the pump in his hand. “Squeeze the base and push this outward?” He queries, touching the enlarged flange.
Harry nods. “Yes, then you just attach it to the nipple. Just gotta make sure the nipple is at the centre though, so it can do the suction.”
“Will it hurt if I don’t attach it correctly?”
Harry chuckles softly, shaking his head.
Hearing Harry’s answer eases the worry Louis has and he does it like he saw Harry did once, squeezing the base of the pump and pushing the flange outward. Cupping Harry’s tit, he carefully positions the small opening against Harry’s nipple before pushing the flange flat against Harry’s breast. The suction starts almost immediately and seeing the milk being pumped, Louis exhales a sigh of relief.
“That’s unnerving,” he comments, leaning against the headboard.
Harry turns to him. His eyes are tired, the middle of his pink lips are chapped, and his curly hair is all messed up from sleep, but the dimples never leave his cheeks as he reveals a new layer of himself that Louis has never seen before. Harry is always this single parent that has everything under his control, even from their first meeting, and to see him like this - all comfortable in his opened pyjama top while nursing Cirilla - Louis decides this is his favourite look on Harry, where he looks the happiest to be the loving parent his daughter needs.
“You know you don’t have to wake up every time I have to feed her, right?” Harry croaks out, shifting Cirilla’s position when her suction goes lax, a deep frown forming between her barely there eyebrows.
“I know, but I want to,” Louis answers without hesitation.
“Thank you,” Harry mumbles, scooting closer to Louis to lean his head on Louis’ shoulder.
“Does she usually wake up and get hungry in the middle of the night?” Louis questions, brushing Cirilla’s little ringlets with his index finger. Her eyes are droopy, but her tiny mouth still sucks earnestly.
“Not always. She was a really good sleeper. It’s just because of the teething, I think. Like she used more energy to cry during the day and ended up getting hungry at night.”
“We will get started on solids soon so hopefully that will make you full, okay?” Harry says in a smaller voice to Cirilla who’s blinking at him.
A trickle of milk slips out of Cirilla’s little mouth and Louis grabs the muslin he is prepared with, dabbing it on her cheeks to wipe it away. “Yum, yum. That tastes good, doesn’t it?” he babbles to Cirilla, smacking his lips together.
Harry covers his mouth with the palm of his hand to contain his laughter so that he won’t accidentally jostle his daughter who is attached to his breast. “Lou, don’t say that,” he wheezes out. “That sounds wrong.”
It takes Louis no time at all to agree, realising how peculiar his choice of words are. “Yeah, you’re right.”
EPILOGUE
Pushing open the front door of his house, Harry’s lips immediately quirk up at the corner from hearing his daughter’s excited babbling and Louis’ voice cooing over how good Cirilla is being.
Stepping into the living area, Harry’s heart clenches from the sight in front of him. Louis and Cirilla are in the playpen and Cirilla is sitting on Louis’ lap while her tiny hand is scrunching one corner of the blueprint and the other is pointing at something on the paper. Louis has a habit of giving her his discarded blueprints and she very enthusiastically looks at the different picture Louis shows her before scrunching it all or putting it in her mouth.
Louis looks up to Harry and he whispers something to Cirilla, making the little girl avert her gaze from the blueprint. “Ma - ma..” Cirilla babbles, tiny hands reaching out to Harry. She has been babbling the half string syllable since she turned one and Harry can’t wait until the day she can fully call him mummy.
Harry bends down, pecking a kiss on Cirilla’s curly ringlets before picking her up. Smothering her chubby cheeks with small kisses, Cirilla giggles, her tiny hands holding on to Harry’s cheeks. Carrying Cirilla in his arms reminds Harry of the silicone cup he’s wearing and that he needs to transfer his milk before it turns bad.
Placing Cirilla in her high-chair in the kitchen, Harry takes out a glass bottle drying on the dish rack and sets it on the counter.
“Lily says she’s on her way,” Louis says, stepping into the kitchen. He wraps his arms around Harry’s waist, placing a chaste kiss on Harry’s lips before pulling back with a scrunch between his eyebrows. “Your breasts feel funny,” he comments, squinting his eyes accusingly at Harry’s chest.
Harry chuckles, pushing Louis away as he turns to the counter, unlatching the silicone cup in his bra. His motions are careful to avoid any spillage of his milk and he unplugs the cup, pouring the milk into the glass bottle. “My cups are full,” Harry replies, unlatching the cup from the other side of his tit. “You know, when they described it as sitting discreetly inside your bra, they didn’t mention that it would feel weird against your partner.”
It is the new milk collector Harry bought last month after listening to the rave reviews from the new mums’ vlogs he watches every night. Not that he is a new mum, but he is expecting another two in seven months, and he likes to prepare early. Having a partner while you are pregnant shouldn’t bring that much of a difference, but with Louis it does. He is a very hands-on partner with Cirilla, and now that Harry is pregnant again, he is taking everything into his own hand, including nightly foot rubs even though Harry told him his feet aren’t swollen yet.
“I’ll put it in the fridge. Go and get ready. Lily is already on her way,” Louis says, taking the bottle from Harry’s hands.
Lily is their new babysitter, who formerly was the babysitter of Louis’ colleague. She came in with glowing recommendations from at least three people that Harry knew from Louis’ work party and he finally gave in to his reluctance of having a babysitter.
Back when Cirilla was merely a couple of months old, it was hard for him to leave her at the hands of some stranger, always so terrified that she would be a fussy baby. But now that she is one, it’s easier for the babysitter to take care of her and of course, Harry wouldn’t mind having an extra hand to take care of his baby.
“Thanks, babe,” Harry mutters, pecking a kiss on Louis’ cheek. Turning to Cirilla, he kisses her hair and squeezes her chubby cheeks, making her titter one last time before leaving the kitchen.
Harry steps out of the ensuite with a grin on his face. Louis is already in his white shirt and dress pants, his black jacket hanging at the back of Harry’s reading chair. He looks delicious enough to eat as he perches on the bed, black pants stretching over his flexed thigh muscle, and Harry has had enough time to trace his fingers along those thick thighs to fully know them. And one of his favourites has to be when they flex when Louis is about to come.
“You look delicious,” Harry whispers, leaning down to kiss Louis’ lips. Cirilla babbles something, probably from the lack of attention from her parents. Harry looks over his shoulder, smiling at Cirilla who is on her tummy, lips in an adorable pout and tiny hands hugging her plushie to her chest.
“She’s about to fall asleep. She hasn’t had her dinner,” Harry points out, noticing Cirilla’s droopy eyes. If she takes a nap right now, she will throw a fit once Lily wakes her up to eat.
“Lily is preparing her puree,” Louis mumbles, rubbing Cirilla’s back gently, brushing her unruly curls away from her cherubic face and Harry swears he sees Cirilla scoot backward, little by little until her body is flushed against Louis’ thigh, tucking her smile to her plushie as Louis kisses her temple.
She wouldn’t do that if it was Harry rubbing her back and Harry rolls his eyes. He can’t believe she’s already picking a favourite when she’s only one.
It doesn’t take long for Harry to get ready beyond drying his hair and sticking some silicone pads on his nipples. Based on the mums’ vlogs he watched, it’s supposed to prevent milk leakage when wearing fancy tops and that’s exactly what Harry is planning to wear tonight. It’s their six months anniversary, and Louis had adamantly said it shouldn’t be celebrated, but they did make sure to go out and have dinner with just the two of them once in a month. So Harry used the opportunity to plan for this month’s dinner on the same day as their semi-anniversary .
Before taking out his fancy blouse for tonight though, he glances at Louis through the reflection on the mirror and Harry’s lips quirk up in a smile when he sees Louis standing up, taking Cirilla in his arms. “I’m going to bring her downstairs for her dinner,” Louis informs and Harry hums, waving to Cirilla and Louis. His little girl only reacts by snuggling further into the crook of Louis’ neck.
Louis is never gonna see what’s hitting him tonight.
“What are - you wearing?” Louis asks, his tone incredulous and his eyes wide as saucers. He strides to Harry, looking him up and down. Circling Harry’s waist with one hand, he spins Harry around before pulling Harry to his front so they are face to face again.
Harry’s bottom lip protrudes out in a pout from habit. “Are you saying I’m not pretty?” He asks, his voice small as he peers up from under his lashes, showing Louis a prelude of what their night will entail.
“Jesus,” Louis mutters, rubbing his face with a hand before shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant, baby. You look fantastic. Gorgeous, as always. It’s just -” Louis scratches his forehead with his thumb nail as he tries to find a suitable word, eyes directed to Harry’s chest. Looking up, he asks for confirmation, “Are you sure you’re not going to leak in that?”
Harry giggles and he leans forward to kiss Louis’ lips. It’s not really a kiss, not with the way Louis’ lips are still parted open from his surprise at Harry’s choice of clothing for tonight. It’s a cream coloured silk wrap blouse, sheer enough that it shows off Harry’s body, but decent enough for the fancy restaurant they are going to tonight. Fancy clothing for a fancy date night, it sounds perfect in Harry’s head.
“I won’t. I have tried it before.” Harry did try it before. He wore it to the bookstore and he did a triumphant dance when he didn’t leak through the whole day. The things he did just to wear his sheer blouse and to celebrate their semi-anniversary , of course.
“You did?” Louis questions, his blue eyes squinting, judging and scrutinising the two little sticky pads on Harry’s tits.
Harry nods, grabbing Louis’ hand and linking their hands together. “Happy semi-anniversary, honey. I love you,” he murmurs, swiftly changing the topic with a soft kiss on Louis’ jaw.
“Babe…” Louis drawls out and Harry tugs their linked hands to the front door. If he doesn’t literally drag Louis out of the house, they will never make it to the restaurant for their reservation.
✽
Harry is panting hard. His heart is hammering in his chest and his cock is pressed against Louis’ thick thigh that he couldn’t keep his hands off of for their whole dinner. Louis walks backwards and he follows, moaning into their kiss as he tightens his arms around Louis’ waist.
Tilting his head, Louis breaks their kiss and before Harry can try to chase his lips, Louis presses his palm flat against Harry’s bare chest, shaking his head. “Baby, we gotta go inside.”
Harry pouts. “But, we have Lily inside,” he protests. How is it that Louis can keep his dick in his pants all the time? Considering his thick and veiny girth, it’s not fair at all. “And Ciri,” he tacks on petulantly when Louis loosens Harry’s hold on his waist. All Harry needs is one racy moment with his partner.
“Guess what else we have inside, babe?” Louis asks, tone nonchalant as he unlocks the door with the extra key Harry pressed into his hand after their first date. “A bedroom,” Louis answers his own question, smiling his crinkled-eyes smile that makes Harry weak in his knees. The very first thing that he noticed about Louis on their first meeting. His vivid blue eyes are a close second.
Harry scoffs, toeing off his heeled boots. He swats Louis’ hand away when he tries to take Harry’s boots to arrange on the rack. Harry is only two months pregnant and he’s more than capable of bending down and arranging them by himself.
Chuckling softly, Louis shakes his head, amused with how petty Harry can be.
“Lily?” Louis calls out, walking through the hallway. He was always the one who paid for Lily’s visits, which Harry had insisted on paying for since she took care of Cirilla - who was biologically Harry’s baby. Louis was just being Louis though and said that Harry had to learn to delegate some of his responsibilities to Louis now that they were partners.
With one hand at his back, working to undo the tie of his silk blouse, Harry meanders to the living room. “Thanks for -” The rest of his sentence cuts off as he lowers his hand. He is so close to losing the gossamer blouse he’s wearing, but Harry clears his throat, squinting his eyes suspiciously at a pair of green eyes that are staring at him. Wide and innocent and gleaming under the white fluorescent light of the living room, simply because Louis is carrying her.
“Thanks for taking care of Ciri tonight,” Harry continues with a soft smile gracing his lips, cocking his head to Lily.
Lily’s head turns from Cirilla and Louis to Harry. She walks closer to Harry, and after ducking her head, she mumbles, “I’m sorry I didn’t manage to put her down. She cried when I put her in the crib.”
Harry snorts, raising a hand to dismiss the worry clearly etched on Lily’s face. “No worries, darling. She has her mood.” He hears Louis soft chuckle and Harry ignores him in lieu of walking Lily to the front door.
There’s nothing like seeing his partner bouncing his own daughter in the master bedroom that can give such a serious impact on his member. Harry can literally feel his cock soften from the sight.
Noticing Harry in the room, Cirilla shrieks excitedly, her small hands reaching out to Harry.
Locking eyes with Harry, Louis coaxes, “Let mummy get ready first, yeah?”
Making fast work of taking off his silicone pads and placing them on the bedside table to clean off later, Harry props a pillow against the headboard and scoots backward, leaning his body comfortably. He rubs his flattened nipple until the pearl of milk appears and he beckons Louis to him.
“Hi, Ciri. Did you miss mummy?” Harry mumbles, voice soft and slow like every time he talks to his daughter. He cuddles Cirilla close to his chest and Cirilla latches almost immediately, her suckling stronger than when she was merely a few months old. It’s not like she doesn’t use a bottle when she stays with Louis, but Harry is forever grateful for the nights when she only wants Harry to nurse her.
“Don’t cry,” Louis murmurs, pressing a kiss on Harry’s temple. He’s already so well-versed when it comes to the nights where Harry needs to nurse Cirilla.
Harry tilts his head to Louis. Entranced with Cirilla, he doesn’t even realise Louis climbing on the bed. “I just can’t believe she’s growing up so fast. It won’t be too long until she doesn’t want to nurse from me anymore,” Harry mumbles, brushing Cirilla’s chocolate ringlets. She looks exactly like his baby picture, right down to the craters in her cheeks.
“Thankfully we have another two coming, right?” Louis chides softly, squeezing Harry’s thigh. “Which you demanded.”
Harry lets out a wet chuckle. It was exactly a month before Cirilla turned one and Harry was excited to plan her birthday party, until it sunk down on him that his baby was actually turning one . She was growing up, which - Harry didn’t know whether it was any parent’s nightmare, but it sure was Harry’s worst dream. Arriving home from a business trip in Paris, Louis barely got a kiss out of a very sleepy Cirilla and Harry was ready to rip off his clothes. Harry needed a new baby, preferably one that wouldn’t grow up.
Luckily for him, he’s already carrying twins not more than two months later.
Louis’ warm hand cupping Harry’s unlatched tit brings Harry back to reality and he watches Louis expertly attaching the breast pump to his tit, placing Harry’s nipple at the centre of the silicone flange. After hours of supply buildup, Harry hisses softly when the pump rhythmically sucks his milk letdown.
Having Louis with him as he raises Cirilla is a tremendous help, from knowing he has someone to rely on to get out his clogged duct to knowing he can be half awake while nursing Cirilla and Louis will ensure his milk letdown won’t be wasted.
“It will be at least seventeen years before she moves out. Don’t fret too much, baby,” Louis teases, his lips quirked up in a cocky smile and he’s lucky Harry has his hands full with Cirilla.
“I’m not thinking of her,” Harry insists. “I mean - not anymore,” he corrects. “I was thinking about you.”
Louis quirks up an eyebrow, wordlessly asking what it was about. It’s insane how they know what each other’s thinking even without having to string together a sentence within six months being a couple.
“Just how much I love you and how lucky me and Ciri are to have you in our life,” Harry mumbles, pursing his lips to Louis.
Louis smiles, his blue eyes scintillating as he leans closer, pressing a soft kiss on Harry’s lips. “I love you too, baby. If there’s anyone that should feel lucky, it’s me. Because you both make me so happy,” he mutters, softly thumbing Harry’s jaw.
Once Cirilla is full, Louis picks her up from Harry without being prompted. With one hand supporting Cirilla’s weight, he hands Harry a bottle of water he fetched from the kitchen, knowing how parched Harry gets after a session of nursing and pumping. Taking a sip of his water, Harry marvels at the sight in front of him - a kiwi patterned burp cloth hangs from Louis’ shoulder over his white dress shirt as he burps Cirilla, carrying her across the room, while softly humming a familiar lilt - and Harry can’t help thinking he’s the lucky one.
✽
Grunting, Harry opens his mouth when Louis presses a cookie close to his lips. He chews slowly as he slides a finger on the screen of his iPad. They are supposed to book an appointment with the realtor for house-viewing, and that was exactly what they were doing until someone knocked on the door and Louis went out to get the item he ordered. He disappeared into the kitchen afterwards and Harry viewed at least five houses on his own.
“What’s that?” Harry asks, squinting his eyes suspiciously at the second cookie Louis holds in front of his face.
“Aaa..” Louis coaxes, parting his mouth like when he’s feeding Cirilla puree.
Harry takes a bite because he can’t stand looking at Louis’ adorable face. “What is it?” Harry prompts again with his mouth full. Now he knows where Cirilla gets the habit. She was always babbling, but when she was eating, it was tenfold that they had to make sure to only feed her in the kitchen.
“Lactation cookies,” Louis answers easily, holding the remaining cookie close to Harry’s lips.
Harry’s eyes widen, and if he wasn’t so comfortable leaning on the couch, he most probably would slap his iPad on Louis’ bicep. Pushing Louis’ hand away from his face, he complains, “I don’t need lactation cookies. I have enough milk for Cirilla.” He flicks his eyes to the transparent container Louis set on the coffee table, filled to the brim with the same cookies he’s holding right now. “And you,” Harry adds.
Louis snorts. “I know. But you are going to feed four people after this.” Gesturing to Harry’s slightly bulging tummy, he continues, “It doesn’t hurt to increase your supply from now. Just for precaution. We don’t even know if this is going to work.”
It’s ridiculous reasoning is what it is because of course it will work, but Harry opens his mouth regardless, acquiescing to finish the second cookie.
“I like this,” Harry says, turning the screen to Louis. “It’s not too modern. It says here it was built in the early 2000s. But do you -” Harry’s next word is cut off by Cirilla’s soft whimper from the baby monitor. Seeing Cirilla standing in her crib, small hands slipping out between the wooden railings, Louis immediately stands, striding towards her nursery.
“Someone woke up from her nap early,” Harry comments in a low voice, pressing a loud kiss on Cirilla’s cheek when Louis lowers her to Harry. Her face is sleep soft and her eyes blink languidly, like the sleep hasn’t completely washed away.
Settling back on the couch that is increasingly becoming more narrow now that their little girl has joined them, Louis sets Cirilla on his lap.
“What were you saying?” Louis asks, extending a hand and unclipping the small black hair clip Harry has on the hem of his sweatshirt.
“Do you like this house?” Harry repeats, turning the screen to Louis once again. “It was built in the early 2000s.”
Louis hums distractedly as he brushes Cirilla’s curly hair with his fingers before clipping it with the hair clip. “Look at how cute you are!” Louis gushes. “You’re gonna grow up and be pretty like mummy, huh?”
Harry smiles. He couldn’t even be mad that he has to repeat the question and what year it was built in for the third time.
“That looks good,” Louis agrees, nodding his head after hearing Harry’s brief explanation of the house. “The backyard is big enough for the renovation I have in mind.”
“Yeah? Thought so. Gonna book the viewing session so we can check it out,” Harry mumbles, sliding his fingers for one last overview of the house before emailing the realtor.
“You hear that? Mummy and daddy are gonna buy a house for you and your siblings,” Louis chatters, blowing raspberries on Cirilla’s cheek. Her loud giggle makes them both beam and Harry discards his iPad on the coffee table, ready to spend more time with his family.
When he first moved in here, it was for some much needed peace away from the centre of London as he raised his daughter alone. Never in his life would he imagine that a year later he would be house-hunting for a bigger house with his neighbour for their growing family.