Archive of Our Own ^beta

The sound of rain pattering over the bay window in the master bedroom is what awakes Louis from his slumber. That – and also the noticeable absence of his omega on the other side of the bed. He brushes a hand, feeling how cold the sheet is and knows that Harry must have been awake for some time now.

Knowing Harry, the omega must be doing his meditation or morning run in their home gym currently. Harry likes the crisp, fresh morning air, but the weather in London rarely lets him enjoy it more than a handful of days in a month. It’s one of the reasons why Louis renovated the basement first thing after they bonded – built a home gym, equipped with the latest kind of fitness equipment to ensure Harry has everything he needed and a sauna just because his contractor convinced him that it was a nice touch.

And it was, Harry loved it so much.

Louis was one lucky alpha. Three years ago, right after he turned thirty-three, his sister arranged a blind date for him. She was worried that while she was dating, getting engaged and planning her happily ever after, Louis was still single.

Much to her dismay, things didn’t work out between Louis and the said blind date beta.

Although, once Louis’ secretary, who coincidentally was his best friend since kindergarten learned about it – he took it upon himself to find Louis someone. His method wasn’t conventional per se, but to Oli’s credit, he was the one who found Harry.

Harry, a twenty-three year old omega who graduated in journalism from a university in Leeds. Burned out from long hours of writing for a section in a news outlet that nobody read, quoted per word by Harry himself, he decided to open new horizons. After accidentally learning about sugaring from one of his friends in London, particularly how lucrative it was, he decided to move to the city to do the same.

Luckily for both of them, they were each other’s first in the sugar dating scene. Louis couldn’t imagine finding anyone who’s more perfect for him than Harry. A short eight months later, Louis brought Harry home to introduce him to his family, and after seeing how everyone accepted Harry with open arms, it was a no brainer for Louis to get down on one knee and propose on the next Valentine’s. They are now one year blissfully married and happily bonded.

The blaring sound of an alarm coming from his phone on the bedside table startles Louis, cutting short his trip down memory lane. He curses under his breath and reaches for his phone to shut off the alarm. He’s wide awake now, that’s for sure.

Sitting up, Louis stretches his hands, grimacing at the sound of bone popping on his right shoulder. He makes a mental note to ask Oli to schedule a massage session for him. After everything that Harry had put him through over the past few weeks, it feels like he’s long overdue for one. Louis swings his legs over the edge of the bed, striding across the room to go to the ensuite, ready to start his day.

Coming down the stairs, Louis catches a whiff of strong coffee brewing from the kitchen. He smiles, immediately making his way to the sacred space that has become Harry’s favourite — apart from the home gym, and the sauna and the indoor heated pool.

Louis finds Harry in the kitchen, clad in a tight fitting grey tank top that only serves to emphasise his curves and a skimpy neon orange shorts that are borderline obscene. It is so skimpy that even his tiger tattoo can be seen clearly. His hair is in a messy high bun and his face is still flushed from post-workout.

“Morning, baby,” Louis greets. He crowds Harry from behind, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and squeezing gently. He pecks a kiss on Harry’s bare shoulder and the bond mark at the side of his omega’s neck.

Harry squirms, but doesn’t make an actual attempt to get away from Louis’ hold. “Lou, I’m sweaty…” He whines, twisting his body so he can face Louis. “Good morning,” he murmurs, dimpling sweetly and pursing his lips for a kiss. So much for all that whine about sweat.

Louis obliges, kissing Harry’s pillowy pink lips. How Harry’s lips manage to look that kissable at seven in the morning — Louis has no idea. “Did you have a good morning run?” He guesses.

Harry nods, pouting a little when he elaborates, “It started raining when I was getting ready. Didn’t even manage to lace up my running shoes.”

“It’s a good thing, isn’t it? Or you will be stuck waiting at some random cafe you found,” Louis says, remembering Harry’s story about all the accidental cafes he walked into just to get out of the rain.

“I like trying new cafes,” Harry defends, a small furrow formed between his eyebrows.

Louis snorts. “Not the last one at least.” He kisses Harry’s nose for good measure before taking a seat at their kitchen nook.

Harry makes a face, whining, “Lou…”

In Harry’s own words — the cafe staff had a mean aura to them, their pastries were subpar at best and the prices were outrageous. Not to mention they messed up Harry’s coffee order twice, but he was too nice to make a big deal out of it and ended up saving the coffee for Louis the next morning.

As Harry prepares Louis’ morning coffee, Louis takes out his phone, scrolling through the emails that started pouring since he went home yesterday. He’s in the middle of typing a reply to his Vice President when Harry places a cup of coffee in front of him.

Louis tilts his head up to say his thanks, but stops short at Harry’s facial expression. His face is pinched, and the way he bites the corner of his lips tells Louis there’s something Harry wants to say.

“Baby?” Louis asks. His hand instinctively goes to Harry’s hip and pulls Harry close to him. “What’s wrong?”

“I - I think I want to take the test again,” Harry murmurs. His beautiful sea foam green eyes hopeful, and Louis’ heart clenches at the sight. He wants it to work for Harry. He really does.

The thing is — out of everything that Louis is able to provide for Harry, this particular thing is out of his control.

They have never really talked about having pups. When they got engaged, Harry was a twenty-four year old omega who was still looking for his way in the world. He never thought about getting pregnant, let alone raising a pup, and Louis was more than willing to never have a pup. He has a big family — four younger sisters and a younger brother — that could last him a lifetime. He really didn’t need a pup on his own. Spending the rest of his life with just Harry sounded brilliant.

Things started to change though.

Four months ago, Louis’ younger sister, Lottie, gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. As any good uncles would do, both he and Harry went down to Manchester to visit them. It didn’t take beyond ten minutes for Harry to fall in love with the pup, volunteering to feed him milk and cooing at him at every chance he got. Naturally, on their drive back to London, Harry turned to Louis and said he wanted a pup, all eager and enthusiastic. Louis couldn’t say no to his bright-eyed omega, could he? After all, who didn’t want a mini Harry running around the house?

The thing is, after trying for four months — relentlessly and tirelessly, if Louis might add — they still haven’t conceived, and it’s getting harder everyday seeing Harry’s disappointed face at every test result.

“Lou… are you listening?” Harry whines, tugging on Louis’ tie to get his attention.

Louis laces their hands together, pressing a kiss to Harry’s knuckles. “I am, baby,” he assures Harry, flicking his eyes to the clock mounted on the kitchen wall. “But I can’t wait. I have a breakfast meeting with a client. Tell me the result?”

Harry’s face falls slightly, but he smiles again as quickly as it falls. “That’s okay. I will wait for you then.”

Louis furrows his brows, squeezing Harry’s hand in his. “Are you sure? Or you can pop by the office and tell me the result? I will ask Oli to get the Chinese takeaway you like so much for our lunch today?”

Harry seems to contemplate the choice for several seconds before shaking his head. “What about tomorrow? Do you have an early meeting too?”

Louis shakes his head, thankful that he had gone through his schedule for the week with Oli before he went home yesterday.

The answer seems to appease Harry, and he dimples beautifully. “Let’s do it tomorrow then,” he decides. “I don’t want to do it without you.”

Louis smiles softly, pressing another kiss to Harry’s knuckles. “Okay, baby. If you say so.”

✩

On a rare occasion, Louis wakes up to Harry still in bed. Harry is always the early riser between them both despite not working. Waking up at six even on weekends, even when he has nothing to do.

It’s not six right now though, and Louis knows that because the offending alarm sounds from his bedside table. Without untangling his hand from Harry’s waist, he twists his body, biting back a wince at how unnatural his position is as he reaches for his phone, turning the alarm off.

“Your alarm is horrendous,” Harry comments, rolling over so he can face Louis. His voice is airy, soft in the morning, which means he has been awake for quite some time. He smiles that beautiful smile of his and presses a chaste kiss on Louis’ lips. “Good morning, alpha.”

Louis scoffs. So he has been told since the first time he and Harry spent the night together. But it’s the only sound loud enough to wake Louis up and pull him from his slumber. “It’s the only one that works,” he croaks out. “Morning, baby.” He brushes Harry’s curl from his forehead, pressing a kiss there.

Harry visibly preens, burrowing his face into Louis’ neck, taking a greedy inhale of the alpha’s scent. It doesn’t take long until Harry’s soft purr to start, and Louis’ alpha is properly chuffed just being able to provide such comfort for his mate.

They are in companionable silence for a while. Louis threads a hand through Harry’s curls, enjoying the silky soft curls and the waft of vanilla and honey shampoo Harry uses. The smell of it suits Harry’s natural omega scent so well. Harry nuzzles closer to Louis’ neck, pressing his nose right to the spot where Louis’ scent is the strongest.

Harry has always been so cuddly, elated to receive any attention Louis can give him even before they are bonded. But now that they are, he always demands cuddling time and scenting before bedtime, and then they will tell each other about their days before falling asleep, tangled in one another. But lately, in the mornings when Harry wants to take a new pregnancy test, he has become even more clingy and cuddly to the point they become inseparable.

Which makes it even more heart wrenching when the damn test keeps showing the same unwanted results. Louis hates seeing the disappointment on Harry’s face – the way his smile doesn’t reach his green eyes, or the way his dimples look painfully glum.

“We probably should wake up now. Don’t want you to be late,” Harry mumbles into Louis’ neck after a while.

Louis gives Harry’s dainty waist a squeeze, hoping that it could convey everything he wanted to say – it doesn’t matter what the result is, he and Harry will be okay and they will keep on trying.

Harry pulls back, rolling over Louis with a tiny smile on his lips. He looks so gorgeous even at seven in the morning, like an angel with his bouncing dark curls, glimmering green eyes, and pillowy pink lips. Harry presses a soft kiss against Louis’ lips one more time. “I love you,” he murmurs against Louis’ cupid bow before climbing off the bed, making his way to their ensuite. His sheer white slip dress hides nothing of how his arse cheeks jiggle as he walks, and it’s so fucking cliche how the sight of it sends a twitch straight to Louis’ morning wood.

The pregnancy kit is already on the sink cabinet by the time Louis makes it to the ensuite, and Harry is leaning against the cabinet as he reads the instructions leaflet as if he hasn’t had it memorised at this point.

“Do you want me to stay?” Louis asks, folding the flap of the cardboard and taking out the pregnancy test.

Harry snatches the test from Louis’ hand. “You don’t need to see me pee on a stick.”

Louis shrugs a shoulder. “I have seen you do a lot of unflattering things over the years,” he says casually. “Thought I should offer.”

Harry pouts, a tiny furrow forming between his perfectly shaped eyebrows, but it quickly disappears when Louis closes the distance between them and kneads Harry’s arse underneath the slip dress he wore to bed last night, kissing the pout away and whispering, “Good luck.”

“I love you,” Harry replies over his shoulder as Louis meanders to the shower stall.

It feels like Louis takes at least twenty minutes to shower, but when he comes out with a towel wrapped around his waist, Harry is washing his hands like he just finished peeing, and the test is balanced precariously on the edge of the sink cabinet, waiting for the small glass window to develop a result.

Louis can still remember how eager Harry was when he took the first pregnancy test, and the second, and the third. The longer this drags out, the less excited he looks, and judging by how much time Harry took to pee, he must be consoling himself too.

Wordlessly, Harry taps on his phone, setting a timer. “It says on the leaflet that the result takes five minutes,” Harry offers into the quiet of their bathroom. He takes a seat on the closed toilet lid, eyes rapt on the pregnancy test as he nervously drums his fingers on his knees.

“Sure, baby,” Louis says in lieu of nothing else. He always teeters on the edge when it comes to the pregnancy test results, not quite sure how to broach the subject with Harry. It’s such a delicate topic and the last thing he wants is to accidentally make his omega even more upset.

Squinting his eyes at the enormous mirror in their ensuite, Louis decides to do a little trim to his beard to kill the time as they wait. He takes out the electric shaver from the cabinet drawer, picking a small bottle of shaving oil that Harry neatly arranged on a glass decorative shelf.

“Don’t shave it all off,” Harry warns from the side as he always does. It was during one of their early vacations that it started, five days worth of stubble that Louis was too lazy to shave because he was on a yacht with his sugar baby. One glance at the scruffy look, and Harry made his obsession known, demanding for Louis to stop clean shaving for the rest of their time together. Even if it did add a couple more years to his look, Louis said yes. He was always too weak to say no to Harry even before they bonded.

“You want to do it for me?” Louis offers.

Harry’s eyes light up, and he nods, glancing at his phone screen to check the time left. He hops up on the cabinet, spreading his thighs open so Louis can wedge himself in between. Harry eagerly wiggles his light purple manicured fingers, asking for the electric shaver.

“Promise me you will do it properly,” Louis notes warily, not handing the shaver despite Harry’s open palm asking for it.

Harry lets out a loud gasp, faux indignant. “When have I ever not?” He retorts, clutching at his chest dramatically.

Louis relents, pressing the electric shaver into Harry’s palm. The smile on Harry’s face is wide like a kid who has been given their first candy cane on a Christmas morning, and both of his dimples carve sweetly in his cheeks.

“Stay still,” Harry mumbles, cradling Louis’ jaw in one hand. He uses his thumb to stretch out the skin on Louis’ cheek, running the shaver on the certain area where the beard has grown thick.

With Harry’s beautiful pale thighs splayed open in front of him, Louis can’t resist but place both of his hands on Harry’s thighs, caressing his thumbs on the soft skin at the inner part.

“Lou…” Harry whines, squirming on the cabinet and accidentally rucking up his slip dress in the process, showing Louis a glimpse of his soft cock laying on the juncture of his thigh. “I’m trying to focus here,” he chides, furrowing a little as he turns Louis’ head to the right, starting the shave the other side.

“I didn’t do anything,” Louis defends distractedly, glancing down to take a peek at Harry’s soft cock once again.

Harry snorts, but otherwise focuses on the task in hand.

The thing about Harry’s cock is — it’s as beautiful as the rest of him. Pink and smooth, hanging heavy between his legs and the simplest thing can make his cock twitch. Like how Louis grips his thigh hard enough that it will leave fingers shaped bruises for hours afterward, or how Louis dips his thumb close enough to Harry’s crotch, leaving phantom promises for what’s to come.

“Done!” Harry announces in a sing-song before Louis can do anything to get Harry’s cock twitch.

Louis’ eyes snap up to the mirror, squinting at what barely looks like a trim. “Baby, it looks like you did nothing,” he comments, touching his noticeably thinner stubble on the cheek. The stubble on his jaw down to his neck is untouched. Admittedly, when he picked up the shaver this morning, he had something different in mind.

“I did a lot,” Harry defends with a little frown in his forehead. Then with a saccharine sweet smile, he adds, “I like you like this. Very rugged, very alpha-ish.”

Louis snorts. “I’m not enough alpha for you now?”

The timer rings just then, and Harry nudges Louis away, easily hopping off the cabinet with his height. Grabbing the pregnancy test, Harry taps on his phone to shut off the timer. He locks eyes with Louis, both of them taking a deep breath at the same time and once they exhale, Harry glances down at the stick in hand.

Louis doesn’t need to see to know that it’s not the result Harry wants. The fading light in Harry’s seafoam green eyes, and the slight downward turn of his pink lips is an answer enough.

“Not this time,” Harry says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He crumples up the instruction leaflet and the kit box, tossing everything including the test in the bin.

Louis crosses the ensuite in quick strides, wrapping his hands around Harry’s waist and pulling Harry’s body flush to him. “We can try again,” Louis whispers. He really fucking despises the solemn look that seems to cloud Harry’s eyes.

Harry cradles Louis’ face in his hand, thumbing softly at the stubble he just trimmed. “Of course. I hope you aren’t tired of knotting me yet, alpha,” he replies. It’s supposed to be snarky, but it turns out monotonous, and Louis knows better than to comment on it. “I’m going to make you breakfast. What time do you have to go to the office today? Do you think you can wait for me to make a full English?”

“I can wait,” Louis answers promptly. Even if he had to take his meetings in the car on his way to the office, so be it. He doesn’t want Harry to be alone so soon after the damn result. “You should go out today. Go shopping, take your mind off things.”

The corner of Harry’s lips twitches at the suggestion, but the crescents in his cheeks are absent and his eyes don’t sparkle as they usually do at the offer of shopping. Louis’ heart mourns for his lovely omega. “Okay,” Harry easily agrees. “You have that annual gala soon, right? I’ll get your bespoke tux sorted.”

✩

Waiting for Harry to finish cooking a full English breakfast, Louis tries his best to pull a genuine smile out of his omega, plastering himself to Harry’s back, resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder and repeatedly pecking a kiss to the bond mark on Harry’s neck, slowly swaying them to the beautiful crooning of Olivia Newton-John’s Hopelessly Devoted To You coming from the sound system installed in their house that Harry connected to his phone.

Louis has breakfast with Harry perched on his lap, feeding Harry half of the food on the plate until he whines that he cooked for Louis, and not the other way around. Still, Louis feeds Harry the last cherry tomato because he knows Harry could never say no to vegetables.

As expected, Louis runs late to the office and he ends up having to join his morning meeting from his phone from the backseat of the car. It’s worth the hassle though, given that he managed to make Harry laugh and pull a genuine smile that pops both of his dimples before leaving the house this morning.

The sun is set suspiciously high and bright at noon, a rare occurrence in April weather in London when Louis finally takes a seat in his office chair. He has no time to lament about it other than asking his secretary to lower the blinds as he gets ready to conduct a conference call. A minute before the call is due, Oli slides a takeaway shrimp salad bowl on his desk, mouthing ‘Harry’ and Louis nods in understanding, waving a hand and dismissing Oli for his lunch.

Before Harry, Louis would never think of eating salad as his lunch. But now that they are married and in Harry’s words as Louis is getting older, he ought to take better care of himself, and that includes eating a bowl of raw vegetables with protein twice a week. Harry’s way to ensure Louis won’t accidentally forget about his salads - Louis might have intentionally forgotten once or twice before - he would call and ask Oli to get it for Louis.

“Sounds great, thank you guys. Will talk to you soon,” Louis says into the phone speaker before pressing a button to end the call without waiting for a reply. He doesn’t have the time for more casual pleasantries and small talk, his throat is dry and his brain is exhausted from being in a string of meetings since morning, and flicking his eyes to the clock at his desktop screen, Louis heaves a relieved breath — at least, that’s the last one for today.

Fluttering his eyes close, Louis loosens the knot of his tie. His eyes are tired from focusing on presentation slides and skimming through endless reports, and after what transpired this morning, his mind needs a breather. It feels like he has been pulled in seven different directions and it’s only half past two in the afternoon.

A crackle coming from his phone desk makes Louis groan, but before he can make any effort to reach it, it stops. He can vaguely recognise the sound of his office door open, and thinking that it’s Oli, Louis ignores it.

“Alpha?”

Harry’s honeyed, warm voice makes Louis snap his eyes open. “Baby?” Harry is standing in front of Louis’ desk, wearing a white knee-length dress with short puffy white sleeves, looking as beautiful as ever. He always makes unannounced visits to the office, and Louis finds the sight of his omega makes the rest of his day go easier.

Harry gives Louis a once over, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “Is everything okay?”

“Busy day is all. Did you go shopping?” Louis asks, cocking a brow at Harry’s hands that are full with designer brand paper bags.

Harry nods bashfully, biting the corner of his lips. “I did, yeah.”

“What did you buy?” Louis queries, knowing how much Harry loves to talk about the things he bought, whether it’s a peeled banana necklace that looks eerily like a dick from Gucci or a black satin robe from Yves Saint Laurent that he likes to wear to bed.

Harry looks down to the paper bags in hands as if it should be an answer enough to Louis.

“Baby?” Louis prompts, his eyes caught on the two colourful polkadot paper bags and somehow he already knows the content.

Harry scrunches his nose, trying to hide his gleeful smile as he mumbles, “Maternity dresses.”

“Baby…” Louis starts, pushing back his chair and crossing the room to go to Harry. The habit of buying maternity dresses started out of nowhere, except one day Harry stopped by at a maternity boutique on his way to go shopping and now, it has become a permanent hobby. Probably more than the usual designer brand clothes that Harry loved to buy so much. Louis doesn’t mind Harry spending money, but when it comes to maternity dresses, he just doesn’t want Harry to go overboard especially when they are still trying.

Harry purses his lips, batting his long lashes and blinking his green eyes in a way that makes Louis forget half of the things he thought about. “I know, I know,” Harry acquiesces even though his tone sounds whiny more than anything else. “But I passed by the store, and I can’t not go in, okay?”

Louis cradles Harry’s dainty waist, smiling softly. He tilts his head slightly, kissing Harry’s lips hello. With that smile, paired with that earnest eyes, how could Louis say no? “Did you buy new pup clothes too?”

Harry’s smile broadens, excited to show Louis his purchase. “I did. I bought a tutu dress because it is too adorable, Lou,” he coos. He places the paper bags on the couch, taking out the puffy dress he mentioned from one of the bags. “And it’s light pink. Can you imagine Isadora wearing it?”

That is probably the fifth tutu dress Harry bought for their yet to be conceived baby girl. To his credit, at least each dress is in a different colour and design.

Louis takes a seat on the couch. “Isadora? Wasn’t it Annabelle the last time?”

Harry’s smile turns sheepish as he carefully folds the dress, wrapping it with the fancy emblazoned tissue paper before placing it back in the bag. “I’m just testing it. But it sounds nice, doesn’t it? Isadora,” he enunciates, making a show of practising the name with his tongue.

Louis nods, patting the space beside him, and Harry immediately fits himself under Louis’ arm. “Sounds proper regal.”

“Yeah?” Harry turns to him, sighing blissfully. “Just like you. Isadora Leigh Tomlinson.”

Louis kisses Harry’s temple. “Leigh is staying, then?”

“Yeah, we like Leigh – it’s such a beautiful middle name. It can fit with everything. Say… Annabelle Leigh Tomlinson.”

Louis hums, carding his fingers through Harry’s curls. He has a hundred different things to get through, but being here, witnessing Harry’s eyes sparkle in excitement talking about pup names is what he likes doing best.

Harry clears his throat, pressing a kiss against Louis’ cheek. He thumbs the stubble doting Louis’ jaw with a soft smile, no doubt thinking of the trimming he had done this morning. “I’m thinking of going down to Manchester for a bit.”

Louis frowns, taking Harry’s hand in his and kissing Harry’s knuckles. He caresses Harry’s ring finger where an oval cut solitaire diamond had taken its place one year ago after their marriage.

“I bought stuff for Lucky, and it’s been a while since I saw them anyway,” Harry adds before Louis can say anything else. It’s hard to gauge Harry’s real emotion, especially when he has set his mind on something. There’s a certain edge and sharpness to his voice, a sound of finality that nothing could change his decision. His honey vanilla scent doesn’t deter one bit.

The thing is, it’s not like Louis doesn’t adore how close Harry is to his sister. As a matter of fact, he loves how they both clicked from the very first dinner together, gushing about fashion within the first ten minutes they were in each other’s vicinity. It quickly transpired into pups, pups’ clothes, and nursery after Lottie got pregnant, and Louis loves it for them – he really does.

What bothers him, however, is that lately, Harry will go down to Manchester every time the pregnancy test shows a negative result. The last pregnancy test was two weeks ago, and it resulted in Harry staying at Lottie’s house for four days. Louis dreads to think how many days Harry will be staying this time around.

“I will just be there for three days,” Harry mumbles as if he knows what exactly is playing on Louis’ mind.

“You can stay longer if you want,” Louis offers, trying to push the image of coming back to an empty home for several days in a row away from his mind. It’s not like he can’t live alone, he had done it for years before Harry came into his life, but now that he has Harry – he’s not used to do everything alone again. Even the bed feels cold without Harry nowadays.

Harry chews his lips thoughtfully, but then he shakes his head. “Can’t. I will miss you too much. I can only take three nights without you, max. I was miserable last time. Four days was too long.”

Louis chuckles, pulling Harry closer to him and kissing his plump pink lips. “I will miss you too, baby. Send my regards to them.”

“Oh! I dropped by Savile Row for your tux. Richard Anderson has a new fabric, and I thought it might be suitable for the annual gala?” Harry reaches for his handbag on the coffee table, fishing out his phone. “I asked Oli about it, and he said it’s fitting with the theme?” Just like that, the conversation about Manchester ends. Louis wouldn’t be the one to prod further, especially when Harry is ready to talk about something else.

“As long as it’s not their iconic tweed fabric, I’m fine with anything,” Louis answers, draping his hand back around Harry’s shoulder as he searches for the picture.

Harry pouts. The first thing that caught Harry’s mind when he stepped into Savile Row shops was their iconic tweed fabrics proudly showcasted in the window display. Each of the tailors have their different signature patterned fabrics, and Harry tirelessly tries to convince Louis to give one of them a try, but Louis is yet to relent.

“It’s not,” Harry defends. He finally finds the picture and shows the fabric he chose to Louis. “I asked them for Lottie’s wedding tux design, you like that one, right?”

Louis hums, zooming in on the fabric. From afar, it looks like a plain black fabric, but from up close, there’s sort of white specks on it. “It doesn’t sparkle, does it?”

Harry gives Louis a bemused look. “Would you wear a sparkling tux, alpha?” He teases.

Louis scrunches his nose, shaking his head. He has never worn a sparkling suit, and he’s not about to try one now at the age of thirty eight years old.

“Exactly. No, it doesn’t sparkle. But the white is supposed to make the structure of the jacket more pronounced, draws the attention in. It’s the same fabric for the pants too.” Harry swipes on the phone screen, showing Louis the mannequin which has the same exact fabric fitted on. “I like how it looks, like some sort of a glamorous twist to the usual black tux.”

Louis smiles, kissing Harry’s forehead. Before Harry, Oli would be the one who sorted this kind of thing for Louis. He never fusses much about what type of tux or suit he’s supposed to be wearing, as long as it’s comfortable to wear up to twelve hours every day. But Harry loves this. Loves going to Saville Row, marvelling at each new fabric in the shop, and spending hours talking about the latest suit design and button material with the shop assistants. He takes it upon himself to get Louis’ suits made for special occasions – the interview with TIME magazine, the company’s annual gala, and Lottie’s wedding, where Louis walked her down the aisle.

“Of course you’d think so. When’s the fitting?”

“The fitting is in four weeks, and I have asked Oli to put it in your calendar,” Harry answers easily. He leans on Louis’ chest while Louis plays with his curls as they talk about the annual gala and the preparations underway, interspersed with Harry’s question about suit designs that Louis likes until it’s time for Harry to leave for Manchester.

✩

For how often Harry gone down to Manchester lately, Louis shouldn’t feel so lonely. But opening the humongous oak door to their mansion and catching the whiff of sweet honey and vanilla from his omega that he knows will fade in the next two days makes it even worse. Where there’s usually Harry coming down the stairs or peeking his head in from the garden, is now empty.

Harry had texted Louis while he was on his way home, telling him that he had arrived in Manchester. While Louis prefers to be driven around by his chauffeur, merely because of how convenient it is when he needs to join a meeting, Harry likes to drive by himself. He loves the quaint and routine that comes with driving, especially down to Manchester, passing by the thick green trees on either side of the motorway to clear his mind.

Louis throws his jacket haphazardly on the sectional, sauntering to the kitchen and opening the fridge. He takes out a can of beer, popping it open and taking a huge gulp, all while mulling what he should have for dinner. Cooking is out of the question because he can’t cook for the life of him.

His phone vibrates in his pants pocket, and Louis fishes it out, promptly opening the text notification. It’s from Harry.

It’s an image of Harry and Lucky, laying on what looks like the thick white plush carpet in Lottie’s living room. At four months old, Lucky’s eyes can already spot the light and he’s looking at the camera with wide eyes, mouth full with a light blue pacifier, his index finger touching Harry’s cheek like he doesn’t want Harry to go.

It’s an adorable picture, but what pulls a smile out of Louis is Harry. The way his green eyes light up and the phantom crescent of dimples in his cheeks just from the presence of a pup.

Louis quickly types a reply.

You two look adorable. Kiss Lucky for me :)

Louis doesn’t wait for a reply because he knows Harry is well distracted with Lucky by now. It’s already close to eight in the evening, and as if on cue, Louis’ stomach grumbles. The last thing he had was the shrimp salad during his conference call, so he pulls up the website to order in a pizza for dinner.

The loud boom coming from the telly jolts Louis awake, followed by an aggravating white screen that blurs his eyes for a second. Sitting up, Louis rubs his bleary eyes, rolling his neck to get rid of the stiffness from falling asleep on the sectional. He’s still in his work clothes and half of his pizza is still on the coffee table. He shuts off the telly and strides to the kitchen with his eyes half closed. It’s a miracle he doesn’t bump into anything in his way. He stuffs the pizza box in the fridge with a big yawn, making his way up the stairs.

Stripping out of his work clothes including his black briefs, Louis lets it pool on the master bedroom floor, promising himself to pick it up tomorrow. He climbs into bed on Harry’s side, burrowing his face in Harry’s pillow and taking a deep inhale of his omega’s scent. It’s one of the things he noticed about Harry when they first met, his seafoam green eyes that seemed to reflect the lights in the room and his delicious potent scent that clouds everyone else’s. Louis has never met someone who’s more suitable with those notes — sweet honey and vanilla with a touch of hazelnut — a perfect combination for his bright-eyed omega.

He is hit with a longing feeling, heart feeling painfully empty from missing Harry and even in his drowsy state, Louis reaches for his phone, smiling at Harry’s texts that he accidentally missed.

I miss you :( See you in two sleeps xx

Then ten minutes later,

Guess who gets to sleep with Lucky tonight? (me!) x

And it’s included with a picture of Lucky soundly asleep in his bassinet beside the bed in the guest room.

Louis types a reply with one hand, relying mostly on the autocorrect on his phone to get his text across.

Sorry, I fell asleep. Miss you too baby. See you in two sleeps :)

He drifts off to sleep while thinking that he ought to ask Oli to send something to Lottie for letting Lucky sleep with Harry for the night. Louis appreciates his sister even if she’s the one responsible for Harry’s current baby fever.

✩

Louis refuses to get his hands tangled with anything regarding the annual gala despite the fact that it is hosted by his company. Sure, he was the one offering to sponsor the fundraiser, but that doesn’t mean he wants to know every single thing regarding the event, especially not the caterer and the vendors involved. And no, he doesn’t need to know or weigh on which type of cuisine should be served that night.

There’s a reason why he opted to do this at a grand ballroom of a five-star hotel. Because it should be done swiftly and efficiently, preferably quietly too with the least amount of interference needed on Louis’ behalf.

“Stop taking any meetings regarding the gala,” Louis instructs once he’s seated on his plush chair behind the desk in his office. He has been roped into a food tasting session for an hour and a half for God sake. “Pass it all to Krystle.”

Oli furrows his brows. “Krystle doesn’t want to do it alone,” he mumbles.

“What?” Louis can feel an impending headache brewing at his temple. Krystle is his second in command, a fierce independent omega and a mother of three who usually has no qualms in doing anything Louis asked of her. Until today, apparently. “Why?”

“She said you will complain about everything if she decides everything alone,” Oli says it so casually, like he has heard the same statement coming out of Krystle’s mouth repeatedly.

“Is this about the floral arrangement for the last launch?” Louis has a lot of things on his plate, but it’s hard to forget the fake synthetic flowers with bright fuchsia blooms that Krystle’s assistant ordered for their last launch party. The arrangements were too big and too bright, taking up half of the event venue. “It’s not my fault her assistant has horrible taste.”

Oli wiggles his index finger in the air, shaking his head as if Louis just proved Krystle’s point.

“I don’t fucking care. Ask her to rope in someone else — HR or whoever,” Louis snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. It’s the third day waking up without Harry, and understandably, Louis’ irritability grows even more intense, clouding his best judgement. “But for fuck sake, someone with good taste, please,” Louis presses. It’s an important event where the majority of the stakeholders will attend, and he needs it to be impressive, an event that will measure up to their company’s image. Is it too late to get an event coordinator? But who are they going to consult with if –

“Lou…” Harry sing songs merrily, waving his bright pink manicured fingers. Judging by the white flower decals, it’s a fresh manicure, and Louis is glad that at least Harry went somewhere with Lottie instead of fussing over Lucky for three days straight. “Oh, hello! Are you boys having a discussion?” Harry asks, walking to Louis’ side and kissing his lips hello. The scent of sweet honey and vanilla is strong and potent – Harry is happy. Rejuvenated and happy.

“No,” Louis answers, pulling Harry into his lap. Harry giggles, placing his hand on Louis’ shoulder and twisting his fingers at the hair on the nape of Louis’ neck. The best thing about having Oli as his secretary is – he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that Harry drops by the office anytime he wants, and he definitely barely bats an eyelash at Harry and Louis’ overt public displays of affection.

“I can ask Harry,” Oli suggests, flipping open the cover of his iPad.

Louis shakes his head, grumbling, “No.” He doesn’t want Harry to be burdened with the gala when he just came back from Manchester. Plus, there’s the pup thing.

“Ask me what?” Harry questions, oblivious, turning his head from Louis to Oli. “Oli, ask me what?” He prods when he knows Louis isn’t going to answer him.

Oli smiles kindly. The type of smile that tells Louis he knows he has won, and maybe he has because Harry loves this kind of thing. “We need a fresh pair of eyes to decide over several things for the gala.”

“Oh, I’d love to!” Harry coos, excitement trickling in his voice and the note of hazelnut in his scent becomes stronger.

“Should I rope you in with the meetings for Krystle and the hotel management?”

Harry hums. “Yes, I will drop by your office later to discuss, yeah?”

Oli stands, the smile curling his lips broadens, satisfied that he managed to find someone Louis can’t say no to. “Of course. Thank you,” he mumbles, flicking his eyes to his iPad screen. “Don’t have too much fun. Next meeting is at three.”

“You didn’t tell me you were on your way,” Louis says right after Oli closes the door to his office. He purses his lips, and Harry obliges sweetly with a fleeting kiss that leaves Louis wanting more. Harry pulls back before Louis can deepen their kiss, chuckling at the gloss sticking to Louis’ lips and wipes it away with his thumb.

Harry shrugs a shoulder. “I wanted to surprise you. Do you want to know something?”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “What, baby? Your nails are pretty.”

“Oh,” Harry breathes, his cheeks pink as he looks down at his nails. “They are, aren’t they? I had them done with Lottie while Lewis brought Lucky to see his mother.”

Louis smiles. Harry might come from a small family, only having one elder sister, but he fits right away in Louis’ big family as if they were his own. Daisy always says that having Harry in the family means they have a fashionable, less busy older brother, which admittedly, is very true. They resorted to calling Harry for anything now, rather than waiting for Louis to finish a meeting or dropping a message to Oli.

“Lou… are you listening to me?” Harry whines, cupping Louis’ chin in hand. His plump bottom lip is jutted in a pout. “And you shaved!”

Kissing Harry’s wrist, Louis murmurs, “Just a little, baby. What were you saying?”

Harry squirms on Louis’ lap, huffing an exasperated breath. “I said – my app is telling me that I’m ovulating right now.” His tone isn’t louder than a whisper, and his green eyes are gleaming with mischief, glancing at the frosted glass door of Louis’ office.

Ever since they are trying to conceive, it’s not the first time Harry comes by for a quickie in the middle of a workday, and Oli’s office down the hall won’t be the one stopping them today.

“Hop off then. I need to see which meeting room is available.” Louis pats Harry’s arse to get him moving. They have approximately fifty minutes left.

A smirk tugs Harry’s lip upward. “I already asked Oli to book our favourite,” he whispers conspiratorially.

Louis snorts. Now he knows why Oli left them with the advice: ‘don’t have too much fun’.

“Baby…”

Harry stands, tugging Louis’ wrist. “What? He knows we are trying to get pregnant.”

And that’s how Louis finds himself in a small meeting room that is only meant for four people at the end of the hallway of his floor. Admittedly, Louis has used this meeting room for a quickie with Harry more than what it’s intended for, thanks to technological advancement.

It’s easier to be on the plush leather chair of his office and conduct a meeting through a camera rather than seeing everyone face to face.

Harry hooks his index finger underneath the straps of his dress, one at a time before draping the dress on the back of the leather chair. He hops on the meeting table with only a pair of light pink knickers on, swinging his long legs while waiting for Louis to take off his clothes.

“Set the timer, baby. Forty-five minutes,” Louis says, tossing Harry his phone. Forty-five minutes is being generous, he doesn’t even count the time to kiss Harry goodbye, and it’s been a long, torturous 72 hours without his omega.

Harry pouts, but he taps on the screen nevertheless. “Done, forty-five minutes,” he announces, placing the phone on the chair where he draped his dress.

Louis takes off his jacket, slightly more careless in draping it over Harry’s dress. He places his cufflinks on the cabinet to avoid losing them before folding the sleeves of his white dress shirt at the elbows.

Turning back to Harry, it’s clear the omega is already turned on — his cock tents the front of his lace knickers and the delicious scent of sweet honey and vanilla wafts through the air.

“Seeing me undressed gets you going, baby?” Louis teases playfully as he undoes the buckle of his belt and unzips his fly.

Harry sighs contentedly. “What can I say? My alpha is so fit and hot,” he murmurs, unabashedly spreading his legs. He makes a show of pressing the heel of his hand on his covered cock, moaning obscenely as he bares his neck.

Louis pulls down his briefs, fitting himself between Harry’s sprawled legs and slipping a hand in Harry’s curls. He tugs at the roots slightly, pulling a whimper from Harry before tilting his head down, nibbling at Harry’s bond mark.

“Take off your knickers, baby,” Louis rasps out, hooking his thumb under the delicate lace waistband. Harry helps by raising his hips, making it easier for Louis to pull them off of his long legs.

“I love you,” Harry murmurs dreamily, pressing a kiss on Louis’ lips before laying down on the desk, his feet dangling down. His curls spread out around his head like a halo, and his face flushed pink with arousal. He looks like a debauched angel, but an angel regardless.

Harry’s cock is hard on his stomach, pink and wet at the tip, and a copious amount of slick dribble out of his hole, sticking to his thighs and the desk. They are going to need this meeting room professionally cleaned after this.

Littering kisses on Harry’s inner thigh, Louis eases a finger in Harry’s hole. He would go down on his knees and worship his omega’s body, but he also has a meeting in the next thirty five minutes and he still needs to pop his knot. Harry moans, his thighs quiver when Louis brushes his index finger over his prostate.

“Ah! More, please,” Harry whines, eyes fluttering close when Louis sucks a mark on his inner thigh as he works a second finger in. The ring of muscle at Harry’s rim gives in with little resistance, and Harry’s hole opens up like a flower in front of him.

Satisfied that Harry is finally stretched enough, Louis pulls Harry close by his hips. He scoops some of the slick from Harry’s wet hole, coating it on his hard cock. He rubs the cock head up and down on Harry’s hole, watching how the winking hole flutters in anticipation.

“Lou, faster please. I need your knot,” Harry’s voice sounds hoarse from arousal and the flush on his face is down to his neck and his torso.

The first push makes Louis growl deep in his chest. It’s all warm and heat and so so tight. He doesn’t stop until the swell of his knot is flushed against Harry’s arse.

Harry keens loud enough that Louis has to clamp his mouth shut with the palm of his hand. They might be in a meeting room at the far end of the hallway, but they are still in his office. Thinking that anyone might hear his omega’s obscene noise only serves to raise his hackles, possessiveness flooding his body. Fixing his eyes on Harry, Louis lowers his hand cautiously as he starts to pick up his pace.

“Fuck, nnggh - you fuck me so good, alpha,” Harry babbles breathlessly. He bites his mouth hard when Louis’ cock brushes his prostate, toes curling at the back of Louis’ hips.

With the minutes closing down on them, Louis pulls every trick he knows to make Harry come. He rubs Harry’s glistening tip with his thumb, pressing into the slit that is bubbling with precome until Harry squirms, fisting his manicured fingers tightly until his knuckles become white.

“I’m gonna - fuck - come.” Harry comes hard, ribbons of white come shooting from his cock as his body arches off the table, his hole clamping down on Louis’ cock. Harry is still spasming with aftershocks, plump lips bitten raw between his teeth when Louis sets to a brutish pace, thrusting in and out more easily now that Harry has come once. The squelching sound coming from Harry’s hole is obscene, slick gushing out to ease the knot of his alpha, becoming louder every second with their laboured breathing.

It isn’t long until Louis feels the delicious pulse starting at the base of his knot, and he pushes the swell into Harry’s hole with one motion, and a guttural grunt at the back of his throat. It punches a breath out of Harry, eyes screwed shut and his lips bitten once again to keep the sound in. Louis tugs the abused lip free, kissing Harry and swallowing the moan pouring out of his lips at Louis’ warm come coating his inside.

Fifteen minutes, or maybe ten. Louis has no idea, but his knot is still snug fit inside Harry’s hole and he’s desperate to know the time they have left. For some reason, Harry is taking a nap on the desk, eyes closed and breathing even and calm, satiated by the kisses Louis littered on his face and neck and his alpha’s knot in his hole.

Louis keeps one eye on Harry and extends a hand to the chair, reaching for his phone.

“Ow! Lou!” Harry screeches, jolted awake from his nap. His face scrunched up in pain from Louis’ movement, tugging on his still fat knot. “What was that for?!”

“Sorry, baby. I need to check on the time,” Louis murmurs, pressing a kiss on Harry’s pouting lips. He makes a mental note to ask Oli to get a wall clock in this meeting room.

“I was taking a nap,” Harry grumbles, tapping his ring finger on his closed eyelids as if to wipe away the bleariness. Even stark naked, with drying come on his stomach and sticky slick down the crack of his arse, he is still a proper diva. He huffs out a breath, pursing his lips for one more kiss before asking, “How much time we have left?”

“Twelve minutes.”

Harry nods. “That’s enough time for your knot to go down,” he comments around a yawn. He pulls Louis closer by wrapping his legs around Louis’ waist, smiling saccharine sweet. “Let’s go out and have dinner tonight.”

Louis supports his weight on his forearms on either side of Harry’s head, smiling down to Harry. “You aren’t too tired?”

“Not for dinner with my alpha, no. Let’s go to that Italian restaurant we liked. I miss the pasta.”

Brushing the matted curls on Harry’s forehead, Louis agrees, “Anything for you, baby,”

The timer rings just as soon as Louis’ knot deflates. He pulls out, making quick work to clean himself with a natural wet tissue Harry has in his handbag. He only feels slightly bad for leaving Harry to deal with the aftermath alone if not for the dimples adorning Harry’s cheeks and the way his bright laugh sounds when Louis forgets to zip up his fly in his haste to get to his meeting. He kisses Harry goodbye twice, promising to come back home as soon as he can and taking Harry out to dinner.

✩

The gala comes sooner than Louis expected. The next thing he knows, Oli is reminding him of the gala that is set for the upcoming weekend, and Harry is bustling over the last touches before the big night. Louis always came home to booklets of fabrics strewn across the dining table, huge shopping bags with all kinds of napkins and decors for testing or something.

Admittedly, Oli made a wise choice. Harry took everything under his wings, and Louis was never pulled into any food testing session or meeting about the gala anymore. Krystle is placated with having a fresh, second pair of eyes, and Louis managed to do his work in peace, structuring a brand new housing project for a government tender he had his eyes on for the next quarter.

It was a bonus that the gala also took away some of the pressure off of Harry in trying to conceive during the past month or so. Louis might or might not mourn over the fact that the gala was coming to an end soon.

“Lou… hi,” Harry greets, a bit breathless from climbing the stairs when he walks into their master bedroom, seeing Louis lounging on the bed with his laptop propped open on his lap. Harry just came back from the hotel for the last check-in. A last check-in that took almost three hours.

“Hi, baby.”

Harry places one knee on the bed, kissing Louis’ lips hello. “Everything is perfect. You are going to love it,” he says, mumbling the words right into Louis’ cupid bow. Pulling back, a tiny furrow formed between Harry’s eyebrows. “Oh, I have to check my earrings. I remember picking it up from the Gucci store, but I swear I can’t recall where the hell I put them. They are just tiny little things, and I’m afraid I misplaced them at the hotel or something,” he says over his shoulder before disappearing into their walk-in closet.

“Shit! Lou, I don’t know where I put them…” Harry whines from the closet. Seconds later, before Louis can even save his work, Harry shrieks hastily, “Oh, Lou – it’s okay, babe! I think I remember where I put them!”

Louis chuckles, shaking his head to himself. He continues with dragging the cursor on his laptop screen, zooming on the blueprint, but his peace lasts momentarily.

“No! Where the hell! Lou…” Harry sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, and the cloying, overly sweet scent of vanilla coming from the closet tells Louis how distressed Harry actually is.

This time, Louis saves his work, tossing his laptop to the side and striding to where Harry is. Between the two of them, Louis is even less helpful in finding stuff, but he figures his presence can give moral support to Harry.

“Baby?” Louis asks, biting back an amused smile at Harry sprawling on the floor. His jewellery boxes are stacked at his sides, half of them are opened, but apparently, none of them is the one he’s looking for. “You can just wear another pair, you know.”

Harry glares at Louis. It’s supposed to be threatening, but he only looks like an angry, disgruntled kitten. “It’s a new collection that I pre-ordered specifically for this gala. They are handmade in Italy, Lou.”

Louis scratches his forehead with his thumb. If that’s the case, it’s probably useless to offer to buy a new pair for Harry right now. “Do you have anywhere else you might keep a new pair of earrings?”

Harry averts his gaze to the open drawer on his side of the closet where he usually keeps his jewellery, shaking his head.

Louis pushes all the boxes carefully, making an open space for himself to sit. “What about your handbag? You changed —”

Harry lets out a loud gasp, eyes wide as saucers as he scrambles to stand. He stands in front of his handbag shelves for a moment, hands propped on his waist and lips pursed as he tries to remember which one he had used previously. Going on his tiptoes, Harry grabs a black tote bag on the highest shelf, impatiently rummaging through it.

The delightful squeal that follows is ear-splitting loud and borderline inhuman, and Louis is tackled to the floor, the breath knocked out of his lungs with his elated omega straddling his hips.

“Found it!” Harry declares, his excitement intoxicating, and Louis chuckles, peeling the box from Harry’s hand.

Louis opens the box to a beautiful, scintillating pair of dangling earrings. The signature GG logo is encrusted with faceted diamonds, completed by petite flower pendants and embellished with a diamond at the centre. True to Harry’s words, they are a small pair, but they are sweet and sophisticated at the same time, just right for Harry.

“They are going to look beautiful on you.”

Harry flushes pink, ducking his head to chest. “I hope so,” he admits softly. “Thank you for your help.” He presses a kiss on Louis’ nose, taking the box back from Louis’ hand and climbing off Louis’ body.

Louis is about to complain that he deserves a reward for helping Harry, but then Harry bends down in front of him to put back his jewellery boxes, and the sight of his pert arse, clad in a pair of lilac knickers underneath his dress is enough to make Louis shut his mouth, enjoying the view feasted before his eyes.

What can he say, he loves being spoiled by his omega.

✩

Sitting on the couch at the foot of the bed, Louis crosses his socked feet at the ankles as he switches the telly channel to find something interesting. He has his bespoke tux jacket hanging in the closet to avoid creasing while he’s waiting for Harry to get ready. Harry might have gone into the ensuite an hour earlier than Louis, but that doesn’t mean he will finish getting ready first.

They are set to leave at five though, and that means Harry still has plenty of time to get ready.

Louis is halfway through a crime documentary, a brand new release on Netflix when Harry steps out of the closet in his midi black dress. It’s a new one because Louis has never seen it before. The dress is drenched in twinkling sequins, shining bright against the striking black fabric. It fits like a glove on Harry’s body, the sleeveless bodice accentuating his curves as he crosses the room, striding with sure steps towards Louis.

“Fuck, baby. You look so pretty,” Louis compliments, awe thick in his voice. How could he be so lucky? “I won’t be able to take my eyes off of you tonight,” he murmurs, pulling Harry close by his waist. There’s a slit going down Harry’s right thigh, not high enough to be obscene, but good enough to make Louis’ mouth water at the glimpse, especially when he knows how soft and supple the skin underneath is.

Harry’s smile is shy, ducking his head into his chest. “Help me with the necklace,” he mumbles, pressing a Cartier box into Louis’ hand.

Louis knows the box like the back of his hand. It’s one of the first gifts he gave to Harry, and it warms his heart to know that Harry still loves it to this day, despite the countless more necklaces Louis has given him since.

Harry takes a seat on the couch, turning his back to Louis and brushing his meticulously styled curls over his shoulder. The motion exposes his bond mark, and Louis grazes his lips there, pressing a soft kiss. And because Louis can’t stop himself, he opens his mouth, sucking the small area of skin in between his teeth.

“Lou…” Harry whimpers softly, holding back a giggle. The sweetness of vanilla in his scent thickens, and before long, a soft rumble starts in his chest. Baring his neck, he leans back into Louis, purring contentedly. “You spoil me,” he mutters when Louis licks at the fresh mark on his neck. Harry loves parading his marks, a sign of being well-doted by his alpha, and Louis loves giving them to him even more. His alpha rumbling in satisfaction at the sight.

“Not more than you do for me, baby,” Louis replies. He opens the Cartier box with one hand, fishing out the necklace and undoing the white gold clasp. It’s a singular-strand necklace that features a dazzling square-cut stone, no bigger than a ten pence, but Harry loves it dearly judging by how many times he has opted for the piece.

Turning to Louis, Harry fixes the pendant’s position so it stays on the centre of his chest. “Thank you. Stay. I’m gonna get your tux jacket for you.” He pats Louis’ knee, kissing Louis’ lips before walking back to where he came from.

Louis is too weak to do anything but stare after his omega, already counting the minutes until they come home so he can slowly peel the dress off from Harry’s body.

The grand ballroom is decked in champagne and gold colour decor. Luscious gold curtains draped heavily at the sides, twisted in a way that showcases the floor to ceiling glass windows surrounding the ballroom. The chandelier scintillates brilliantly at the centre, the multi-tiered crystal lights reflecting on the dancing floor underneath.

Lush golden trees stand as centrepieces on each round table with matching colour chairs and table cloth. Crystal glasses and plates gleam, the gold borders matching the rest of the decor.

Despite the colour opted, it’s not overly extravagant to the point of being annoyingly ostentatious — it’s just perfectly done. Sophisticated and modern.

“You are perfect, do you know that?” Louis whispers close to Harry’s ear, squeezing his waist meaningfully.

Harry beams, the dimples deep in his cheeks and the green in his eyes seem to sparkle from the chandelier. “I’m good at what I do,” he claims softly, cradling Louis’ chin and pressing a kiss on Louis’ lips. “I think I saw Mister Bernard and his wife. Let’s go say hi.”

For one reason or another, Louis and Harry are separated after the fifth stakeholder they talked to. Someone’s wife holds Harry’s hand to gush about something, most likely about pups, and Louis is forced to weave through the rest of the crowd on his own.

Louis has done work events like this countless times, and that’s precisely the reason why having Harry at his side can make tonight go faster. He can spot Harry across the room though, surrounded by a group of wives and partners of the stakeholders and staff. The sequins of his black dress glimmer under the bright light of the ballroom, and Harry dimples through the conversation, nursing a glass of champagne in hand.

Almost like he knows Louis is staring at him, Harry glances up, locking eyes with Louis. An amused tilt to his lips, and he wiggles his black manicure fingers towards Louis, a fresh set specially for tonight. The group Harry is talking to all looks to Louis, and he awkwardly waves a hand back.

“Oh my God! Mister Tomlinson, it’s such an honour to finally meet you,” an overly enthusiastic voice coming from the side pulls Louis from continuing ogling his omega. Standing two feet away from Louis, it’s obvious the man towers over him. Hell, the man is even taller than Harry. “I’m Harris Reed,” he introduces himself, extending his hand. At Louis’ confused expression, he chuckles, adding, “I’m the one who transferred from Berlin?”

The realisation trickles in then. The branch manager that Krystle promoted last quarter. Harris Reed is a brilliant twenty-something omega with an even more impressive CV. It’s unfortunate that Louis is swamped with work that he didn’t manage to make it to the introduction chit-chat session last week.

“Harris, God, sorry. The hair - it’s not the same as your CV,” Louis replies, chuckling good naturedly as he shakes Harris’ hand. He vaguely remembers the memo that Krystle sent out prior to Harris’ transfer, which included his picture – long and wavy ginger hair framing his heart shaped face. Now it’s just a bob haircut with bangs.

Harris’ smile grows. “Ah, yes. The hair.” He tucks a strand behind his ear, almost shyly. “Well, apparently being thirty weeks pregnant means it’s impossible to have long hair because you will wake up feeling like a furnace.”

“You are pregnant?” Admittedly, Louis probably can be more eloquent in this introduction, but alas, Harris doesn’t look pregnant at all. He must have loaded up scent blockers on his way here because there’s barely a hint of any scent coming from him.

“Mister Tomlinson…” Harris drawls, spreading his palm flat on his chest. “I’m flattered that you think I don’t look pregnant.” Letting out a soft giggle, he gestures to his frankly, still flat stomach. “This is merely an illusion,” he mumbles before turning to his side, and oh.

Now Louis can see he is indeed pregnant. Heavily pregnant, matter of fact. From the front, the black dress he’s wearing concealed most of his stomach, but from the side, there’s no way anybody can miss the humongous baby bump.

“Thirty weeks, you said?” Louis recalls, biting back a wince and hoping that he heard it right the first time.

Harris nods fervently, the blush on his cheeks bloom. “Yup, my first,” he says, rubbing his stomach lovingly. “Do you have any pups of your own yet, Mister Tomlinson?” He inquires, his tone kind and polite.

Warmth floods Louis’ heart at the question. For the first time since they started trying, he can’t wait to see Harry pregnant. Harry would never stop rubbing his bump, that’s for sure, and the pregnancy glow – God, Louis won’t be able to leave the house. He diverts his gaze to Harry and the flock he’s talking to, disappointed to find that Harry has probably moved on to another groups. “Me and my partner are trying,” he answers simply.

“That’s wonderful,” Harris comments, beaming like a proud mother. For once since they started talking, he looks so much older than his twenty something age. “You know, my pup wasn’t planned,” he chuckles, rolling his eyes. He raises a finger, elaborating, “I know that’s probably TMI, but but let me tell you that I can’t remember feeling this excited for anything.” As if realising he’s talking to his boss, he adds for good measure, “I mean, this transfer is a close second. But being pregnant is honestly, the highlight of my life. Do you want to feel?”

“Oh,” Louis breathes, shocked to even be asked. “Is that okay?” He questions, stopping his hand mid way in the air. He touched Lottie’s stomach every time she came up to London because she insisted for Louis to bond with her unborn pup, but that was different. That’s her younger sister, family.

“Of course!” Harris chirps, grinning. He takes Louis’ tentative hand, placing it on the highest point of his bump. “The pup doesn’t really move in the evening. Likes to sleep, I guess. But they move a lot during the day,” he explains. The excitement over a pup is clearly infectious, and before long, Krystle and her husband come and join them, sharing about their birthing experiences through three pups, all varying from one another, and taking turns in feeling Harris’ bump.

There’s definitely something wrong. Because, for starters, Harry hasn’t talked to Louis since they waited for their car. He was scrolling on his phone while waiting, and Louis got it, Harry was probably tired from the gala, too exhausted to even move his mouth after three hours of non-stop socialising.

But then, Gemma calls and Harry talks to her the entire forty minutes drive home. Tired seems to be the last thing on his mind as he discusses animatedly with his sister about their mother’s new adopted cat, Skye, and what it meant for their childhood cat, a twelve year old cat named Darcy.

After bidding goodbye to his sister, Harry murmurs his gratitude to their chauffeur, making small talk about his wife and kids because that’s just who Harry is, smiling politely at the beta before making his way inside. Apparently, Harry is only too tired to talk to Louis.

Come to think about it, there’s definitely something wrong. Harry had refused Louis’ tux jacket while waiting for the car by merely shaking his head. He usually would preen under the attention, saying yes even though he wasn’t cold just so he could be enveloped by the scent coming from the jacket that his alpha had worn the entire night.

Climbing the stairs to their master bedroom, Louis sees Harry sitting on the couch at the foot of their bed, still scrolling on his phone. “Baby? Is everything okay?” Louis asks, pulling the black bow at his shirt collar free.

“You tell me,” Harry answers simply. His tone is monotonous, and his face is stoic. A picture perfect of calm and collected, but Louis knows better. There’s a storm brewing underneath the facade.

Louis furrows his eyebrows. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong,” he mumbles, placing his bow tie on the chest on the dresser.

The corner of Harry’s lips twitch. “What did you do?”

Louis rubs the nape of his neck, squinting his eyes, trying to recall the gala agenda tonight. He can’t remember doing anything wrong, frankly. At least not to the point where he deserved his omega’s silent treatment.

“You don’t even know what you did wrong, Lou.” This time, Harry doesn’t bother to hide his scowl, a deep furrow formed between his eyebrows and his jaw set. “See?!” The screech makes Louis wince.

“Baby, I’m sorry if I did something wrong. But, I really -”

Harry stands, tossing his phone to the side, seemingly giving up his serene facade. “You felt someone’s baby bump, Lou,” he cuts, crossing his arms against his chest.

“What? What - oh - that.” Louis’ mind flits to Harris Reed, and his innocent offer for Louis to touch his baby bump.

Harry huffs an exasperated breath. “I mean, I know I’m not pregnant yet. But you don’t have to go around feeling other omega’s belly. Has nobody told you that it’s rude?”

Louis tries to bite back his grin. It’s an impossible task, especially with the note of hazelnut in Harry’s scent becoming stronger, bitter. “Are you jealous?” is what comes out of Louis’ mouth next.

Harry stomps his feet on the carpeted floor of their master bedroom, fisting his hands at the side. “Are you even listening to me? You touched someone’s baby bump! Which is not mine, and -” He takes a pregnant pause to calm himself down, and even then, the next sentence is half-yelled, “It’s worse considering I’m not even pregnant yet!”

Louis raises both hands in surrender. “Can I come to you?” He asks gently. They are both standing across the room from each other, and there’s nothing more Louis would like than hugging Harry right now.

“No,” Harry answers brusquely.

The chewing on Harry’s lips tells different though, so Louis crosses the room and slides his arms around Harry’s waist, drawing them close.

“I’m still mad at you,” Harry grumbles even as he bares his neck for Louis to kiss.

Louis obliges, pressing a chaste kiss at the healed scar of Harry’s bond mark. “His name is Harris Reed,” he mutters, smiling softly at the sweet scent of honey and vanilla coming from Harry. There’s no more the sharp bitterness of hazelnut.

“I don’t recall asking if I’m honest,” Harry retorts sullenly.

Louis chuckles. “He just transferred here from Berlin.”

Harry groans, closing his eyes briefly. “Good, now I have to see his face again and remember you felt his belly. Thanks for the heads up.”

“He’s thirty weeks pregnant,” Louis continues.

Harry tries to wiggle away from Louis’ hold then, slapping Louis’ chest once when Louis doesn’t let go. “Will you get on with the backstory? I don’t see the point of dragging this out, or do you like torturing me?”

“You are so dramatic, you know that, right?”

Harry narrows his eyes. “I didn’t hear you complaining when you bonded with me,” he counters stubbornly.

“Is it too late to ask for a refund now?” Louis teases, arching an eyebrow.

Harry gasps, and this time his slap bites more on Louis’ bicep. “Lou! So rude!”

Louis huffs out a laugh at the evident pout on Harry’s lips. He kisses Harry’s lips even though Harry stays still, not reciprocating. “Baby, Harris is carrying his first pup, and he’s so excited. He asked Krystle and her husband to feel his bump too, you know. I feel like he would offer it to anyone who asked about his pup.”

“Oh,” Harry breathes, and it’s like the anger magically melts away. “Krystle and her husband too?”

“Are you telling me you didn’t see Krystle feeling Harris’ bump? I swear her husband had to physically peel her hand away from it,” Louis jokes. Despite having three pups under the age of seven at home, it’s clear Krystle wants one more, or maybe three even though her husband clearly thinks otherwise.

Harry purses his lips adorably. “No, I - I went to the powder room right after seeing you two,” he admits in a lower voice, tucking his head to chest.

“Oh, baby,” Louis coos, pulling Harry’s body flush to him and squeezing Harry’s waist. He can’t imagine Harry, the social butterfly of any event, had to excuse himself just because of that. It must have hurt him more than he’s willing to admit.

Harry glances up, biting his lips. “Do you - do you think he would offer me too?” He asks, his voice small and uncertain.

Louis frowns, puzzled with the question. “What do you mean? Of course he would. I told you that he would offer anyone.”

Harry lets slip a heavy sigh, blinking his eyes at the ceiling. “I - I don’t know. I feel like the universe is against us sometimes. Is it -” Harry clears his throat before continuing, “Do you think it’s because I’m not fit to be a mum?”

“Fucking hell. Baby, why would you say that? We just started trying. These things take time, babe,” Louis cups Harry’s chin, turning Harry’s face to him. It breaks his heart to see Harry’s bottom lip tremble, fighting back tears. “I know you would be a wonderful mum, and I’m not saying this because I’m your alpha. I say this because I have seen you with Doris and Ernest, and with Lucky. Plus, you are so good at handling Daisy and Phoebe’s boy problems too. God knows seventeen is the hardest year in raising a kid, but you doit so easily. Our pup will be so lucky to have you as their mum.”

Harry sniffles, patting the tear ducts of his eyes with his index finger, blinking rapidly to stave off his tears. “I’m sorry for being emotional. I swear I’m not pregnant yet,” he says, trying to crack a joke. “I - it’s probably the gala. I have been so busy with the preparations, and now that it’s over - it reminds me that I have yet to be pregnant.” He takes Louis’ hand in his, placing it on his flat stomach, smiling feebly.

Giving Harry’s stomach a gentle squeeze, Louis kisses Harry’s cheek. “You can just say you miss my knot without the drama, you know,” Louis teases, breaking the tense atmosphere. His words muffled against Harry’s cheek.

Harry giggles softly, and his smile turns coquettish. “You can’t blame my omega for being fixated on your knot. I mean all these trying efforts, I’m spoiled,” he purrs, batting his eyelashes. He places his palm on Louis’ chest, giving a gentle nudge towards the bed.

Louis spends the rest of the night between Harry’s spread legs, pressing kisses on every inch of his body and murmuring sweet nothings into his smooth, soft skin. He treats Harry with nothing but tenderness, talking in soft voices and caressing Harry’s curls as he knots him, promising Harry a future where he has everything he ever dreamed of.

✩

On the cusp of consciousness, the first thing Louis realises is how warm and wet his -

“Baby?” He croaks out, voice rough from sleep. He tries to sit up and accidentally thrusts up into Harry.

The answer he gets is Harry’s unabashed moan at the sudden movement. “Fuck, feels so good, Lou.” Louis’ thighs are wet with Harry’s slick, sweet vanilla and honey scent thick and cloying in the room.

Harry raises and sinks down on Louis’ hard cock, taking his time to swivel his hips sinfully as if making sure Louis’ cock is touching his every crevice, eyes fluttering close from the arousal. It’s such a beautiful sight to wake up to his omega throwing his head back, long neck straining and curls cascading over his shoulder as he takes his pleasure from Louis.

Harry bounces on Louis’ cock like it’s his favourite place to sit on, making a figure eight with his hips as he clenches tightly around Louis’ cock. His mouth gapes open to let out an obscene and continuous whimper, higher in pitch when he moves in a certain way and Louis’ cock grazes his prostate.

“It feels so deep, alpha. So full,” Harry moans, his hand caressing his lower stomach like he can feel Louis’ cock through it. His movement falters momentarily, and Louis takes the chance to snap his hips up, punching out a loud gasp from Harry. “Nnggh, fuck. That’s so good,” Harry babbles, moving his hand to Louis’ chest. With a smirk, he bends down to kiss Louis, his mouth open and pliant as Louis fucks his tongue in, hungrily exploring every crevice of Harry’s mouth like it’s his first time doing so.

Harry rocks back his hips, clenching tightly as he moans into Louis’ mouth and when he feels Louis’ knot starting to swell, he pulls back, thumbing the thin spit at the corner of his mouth and lapping at it greedily.

Harry moves with a renewed vigour, continuously bouncing on Louis’ lap and making his pecs jiggle. Louis groans at the sight and his hands go to Harry’s chest, squeezing hard each tit in hand. He doesn’t bother with being gentle because he knows all versions of his omega — the one who needed caressing and adoration whispered into every inch of his skin like last night and the one writhing on top of Louis currently, greedily chasing his own pleasure — wouldn’t mind a bit of a pain mixed in.

“These will be full with milk once you are pregnant, omega. It won’t only be your belly full with my pup, but your tits too,” Louis murmurs filthily, flicking Harry’s light brown nipple with his index finger. “Can you imagine milk coming out of your tit when I do this?” He kneads Harry’s tit harshly in one hand, chuckling at the gush of slick he feels on his lap. Harry has always been weak when it comes to dirty talk.

Harry answers with a loud groan, his thighs shaking from the exertion, but his movement doesn’t falter even once.

“And once you are swollen, you will lay on your side and let me do all the work, won’t you? You will be too tired to ride me.”

“Lou,” Harry whines, fisting uselessly at Louis’ chest. His chest heaving and a thin layer of sweat bedding at his forehead. His hard cock red and weeping at the tip, glistening in the feeble morning light filtering through their room from the open curtain.

Planting his feet flat on the bed, Louis starts pistoning his hips up, fucking into Harry’s tight heat. With how long Harry has ridden him, it doesn’t take long for both of them to come to their peak.

When he’s certain that his knot will pop, Louis uses his hand on Harry’s hips to sink him down, and they both moan as they feel the widest part of Louis’ knot enveloped in Harry’s tight heat.

Harry clenches once, twice and that’s all it takes for both of them to come together. Harry comes with a shout, ribbons of white come shooting from his cock so high that some lands on his chin, pulling a breathless giggle from him while Louis lets out a guttural grunt as tHarry’s insides hungrily squeeze the last of his come out, all because of Harry’s powerful orgasm.

“That was incredible,” Louis says, his voice gone throaty. Harry is seated securely on Louis’ thigh, green eyes hazy and his blinking sluggish. Louis smiles, he knows that look so well. Harry is knot drunk.

Harry’s nod is rather timid, a world of difference from how he was eagerly bouncing on Louis just minutes ago. He manoeuvres his body carefully to avoid tugging at the fat knot lodged in his rim, and he illicits a soft sound from the back of his throat when he manages to find a comfortable position — lying on top of Louis and burrowing his face in Louis’ neck like an overgrown koala. He sighs in content when Louis wraps one arm around his waist and buried the other one in his curls, caressing the strands.

“Pup,” Harry mumbles dreamily before pressing a kiss on Louis’ jugular. His breathing turns even just minutes later. It never ceases to amaze Louis how quickly Harry can fall asleep with a knot connecting them both.

Careful to not dislodge his omega in his comfortable position, Louis turns his head slightly to the bedside table, reaching out to his phone to check the time. It’s only ten after seven in the morning.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Harry coos, smiling down at Louis, who is blinking his bleary eyes open. He cradles Louis’ chin in hand, pressing a soft kiss on the hinge of Louis’ jaw before rolling over, much to Louis’ disappointment. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Harry bends down, plucking Louis’ dress shirt that Louis threw haphazardly on the floor last night.

Leaning on the headrest of their bed, Louis quips, “No round two?” His eyes are fixated on Harry’s perfectly round arse, jiggling with every step as the omega bends down to pick up more clothes from their after party shenanigans.

“I’m hungry,” Harry replies casually over his shoulder. Picking up his white crotchless knickers with his pinky finger and unabashedly waving it in the air, Harry deliberately swivels his hips, fully aware that Louis is watching him.

It stirs something primal in Louis — the sight of his drying come on the back of his omega’s thighs, a peek of his omega’s red puffy rim from being knotted and the way his omega clearly wants more.

“You know you can’t wear that dress anymore if you’re pregnant, right?” Louis asks as Harry plucks his dress from the party next. His morning wood twitches under the cover when Harry wiggles his hips to an invisible tune, making a sinful show out of what supposed to be an ordinary task.

“I don’t mind. I would trade all my tight dresses for a baby bump, if I could,” Harry answers sincerely. There’s no tinge of sadness in his voice or his scent, but Louis knows better than to let Harry mull over it alone. He kicks off the cover, climbing off the bed and striding across the room to get to his omega.

“You’d be a MILF,” Louis teases, squeezing Harry’s love handles.

Harry smiles, dimples deep in his cheeks as he hums in agreement. “I would, wouldn’t I? Your MILF.”

“No doubt about it,” Louis replies. He can already imagine Harry walking into his office, proudly showing off his baby bump for everyone to see. Louis opens the cover of the laundry basket for Harry to dump their last night’s clothes, trailing close behind Harry into the ensuite like a lost puppy. If Harry gyrates his hips a little more sensually inside the shower stall while soaping up his body, and Louis can’t help but fuck his omega senseless against the slippery wall, making it their second fuck in the morning – then that’s their business.

✩

The thing is – it’s not all wonderful in the wonderland of baby making.

After six weeks of relentless trying, regardless of whether Harry is ovulating or not, Louis can’t take it anymore when he hears the soft sniffle coming from the ajar ensuite door.

“I have to go,” he says urgently to the phone, disconnecting the call before Krystle can say anything else. Striding to the ensuite, he pushes the door open, just in time to catch a glimpse of Harry tossing the pregnancy test stick into the bin, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

“Baby?” Louis rasps out. His heart aches seeing the wobble in Harry’s chin when he looks up to Louis.

“You would know if it’s positive,” Harry replies, trying to sound flippant, but the tone is simply too sombre. He smiles feebly as he throws the rest of the packaging into the bin. Like every time the test shows negative, Harry’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. But somehow it looks painfully empty this morning.

Louis walks close to Harry, releasing soothing pheromones to calm Harry’s increasingly bitter scent. The frustration that comes with every negative result has never been this obvious — Harry has always been so good at putting up a happy facade, smiling through everything like it doesn’t hurt him to not be pregnant yet after months of trying. He tries to not make Louis worry, but this time — it feels different. Like the whole world is weighing him down, and Harry lets it be.

“Maybe we can put a pause to it, hmm?” Louis ventures gently, resting one hand on the dip of Harry’s waist.

Harry frowns, pursing his lips like he’s personally offended by the suggestion. “But I want a pup.”

Louis’ smile is soft and small as he rubs soothing circles on Harry’s waist through the satin fabric slip dress he wore to bed last night. “I know, baby. I’m not saying we put a pause on it permanently. Just for a while, hmm? I don’t want you to be stressed out about it. We only started trying, right?”

It’s the first time Louis ever suggested something like that. When Harry voiced out his intention of having a pup of their own, Louis agreed immediately despite never thinking of having one. When Harry bought maternity dresses and pup clothes, Louis would coo along with him. When Harry started a Pinterest board for the nursery, Louis would weigh in his opinion about the themes and colours. The point is – Louis would give the world to his omega, but not at the expense of Harry’s own sanity.

Harry takes a sharp inhale, nodding almost imperceptibly before slipping out of the ensuite without another word.

Louis can hear the fading sound of Harry’s footsteps on the floorboards, followed by a click of the master bedroom door closing. That’s as good as a reaction he could get after suggesting putting a pause on Harry’s dream, quite literally.

✩

The extent of Harry’s reaction comes the next day, on a Saturday morning where Louis woke up to an empty and cold bed. He heads to the kitchen after brushing his teeth and washing his face, furrowing his brows when there’s no coffee brewing on the kitchen counter. The coffee maker is spotless. Harry usually gets started on coffee first thing in the morning before he does his meditation or workout.

“Baby?”

Harry hums from where he’s lounging in front of the telly, watching another gruesome documentary on Netflix if the familiar narrator’s voice is any indication.

“Do you want coffee?” Louis asks. He doesn’t get an answer, but he still scoops the finely ground coffee beans into the coffee maker, enough for two. After starting the machine and letting the coffee brew, Louis trudges to the living room. “I made coffee. What do you want for breakfast? Let’s order in.”

Harry flicks his eyes to Louis for a second before he focuses back on the telly screen. He doesn’t deign Louis with a response, neither does he get up nor purses his lips for a morning kiss like usual.

Well, fuck.

They have their happy moments, indulged in blissful love most of the time, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t had their moments of misunderstandings and fights like any other couples. And this, when Harry subjects Louis to his silent treatment, that means Louis fucked up big. He should have known this is what it boiled down to when Harry was sleeping before he even got home last night.

“This is about what I said yesterday, isn’t it?” Louis prompts gently, taking a seat beside Harry on the sectional, but not close enough to touch.

Harry stays quiet, not responding.

“You know I didn’t mean to put a stop to it, right? It’s just a pause. I don’t want you to be stressed out,” Louis reiterates. It’s the same thing he said — it’s just a pause, but clearly Harry despises the idea. “We will try again soon. The time will come, baby. We just have to be patient.”

Harry scoffs, crossing his arms against his chest. Louis catches the way he rolls his eyes and shakes his head like he can’t believe what just came out of Louis’ mouth.

Scooting closer to Harry, Louis places his hand on Harry’s bare thigh. He wears such a skimpy short that the hem rides up to his tiger tattoo when he sits, and in another time Louis would have loved to trace Harry’s tattoo with his tongue.

Before Louis can do anything else in an attempt to placate his omega, Harry peels Louis’ hand away, pointedly placing it on his own thigh. “We are taking a pause, aren’t we? Stay away,” he snarks haughtily, making a point to glare at Louis before striding to the stairs.

Certain that Harry is out of earshot, Louis releases the heavy sigh he’s been holding since he woke up this morning. He runs a hand through his hair, closing his eyes briefly before he stands up, making his way to the master bedroom. It will be a long weekend if he doesn’t apologise.

“Baby,” Louis calls, rapping the door twice. “Can we talk?” He asks, more like a courtesy because he knows Harry won’t answer. He turns the door handle and pushes the door open, smiling at the sight of Harry sprawled on their bed as he continues watching the documentary he left off downstairs.

“Baby,” Louis prompts again, climbing on the bed and leaning against the headrest. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said that.”

Harry turns his head to Louis, narrowing his eyes contemplatively.

“Let’s not stop trying until you get pregnant, okay?” It’s probably not a good idea to relent so easily to Harry, but Louis’ main concern is only for Harry’s happiness. And if his omega wants to keep trying, then they should.

Harry chews his bottom lip between his teeth, humming almost inaudibly.

Harry’s hand is laid between them, and Louis takes the chance to lace their fingers together. He takes a lungful of breath when Harry doesn’t pull away. “Is there anything I can do to make up for you?”

“Come with me to Manchester,” Harry answers without missing a beat. Almost like he already thought about it.

“Today? I sent my chauffeur home for the weekend, babe.”

Harry perks up at the question, sitting up and ignoring the documentary he was so insistent to watch. “It’s okay, I can drive,” he offers eagerly.

“Are you sure?” Louis questions, thinking about the last time he visited Lottie. Probably when Lucky was born and she just got discharged from the hospital. He’s long overdue for a visit.

“Yes. You know I love driving. Text Lottie and let her know that we are on our way. I want to get ready.”

Louis pulls their connected hands when Harry tries to climb off the bed, and Harry arches a questioning brow. “Are we okay?” Louis mumbles. It’s only been a day, but Louis already misses the shape of Harry’s lips against his.

Almost like he can read Louis’ thoughts, Harry leans down, kissing Louis’ lips softly. He thumbs the corner of Louis’ mouth, murmuring, “More than. I just want us to be in this together. If I break down, I want you to hold me. Not encourage me to stop.”

“It wasn’t a suggestion to stop,” Louis refutes before he can stop himself. Almost like he’s purposely undoing his own apology.

Harry snorts, slapping Louis’ chest once. “It’s a suggestion to pause,” he mocks in what he thinks is Louis’ voice, although he makes a point to make it sound whiny while rolling his eyes. “I know. Stop babying me. I’m a big boy.”

Louis squeezes Harry’s hand, echoing his concern, “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“‘m already living with it everyday. It doesn’t get worse or better. But sometimes, I cry, okay?”

Louis’ heart constricts in his ribcage. He’s well aware of how impossible it is, but he doesn’t want Harry to be sad, ever. Not if he can do anything to help it. “I don’t like to see you crying or being upset, babe.”

Harry scoffs. Using their connected hands, he pulls Louis out of the bed and into the ensuite. “You are such an archaic alpha sometimes.”

“Hey,” Louis protests. He can admit that there might be some truth in there. It’s in his nature to care for his omega, and for Louis, he just wants Harry to be happy, always. Happy wife, happy life, they say.

Harry pulls the strap of his slip dress off his shoulder, leaving it in a puddle at his feet. Stepping out of it, he hooks his thumb into the waistband of Louis’ joggers, pulling it down Louis’ legs and smirking at Louis’ half hard cock that slaps against his lower stomach.

“I don’t need my alpha to stop my tears. I just need him to hold me when I cry, and I will cry sometimes. That’s life,” Harry says, sounding so wistful before he steps into the shower stall, turning on the shower. “Coming?” He asks when Louis’ feet are glued to the floor, mesmerised by the sight of water cascading down Harry’s sinuous curves.

And when Harry sinks down to his knees a couple of minutes later, working Louis’ knot with his tight fist and taking Louis’ cock deep in his throat, coughing as Louis comes without warning, eyes red and rimming with tears, Louis holds him close, repeating the same words he said; holding him when he cry. Harry lets out his honking laugh, dimples deep in his cheeks making Louis’ heart full.

✩

When they finally make it to Manchester, it’s almost four in the evening. They stopped on their way for lunch in a restaurant that Harry apparently frequented on his trips down here, and because there were two of them, the lunch took twice as long.

“Lou! Glad you finally made it!” Lottie chirps right after she opens the front door, eyes twinkling under the orange hue of the sun. She gives Harry a tight embrace, and they kiss each other’s cheeks.

Louis rolls his eyes, complaining, “You say it like I’ve never been here.” He grunts under his breath when Lottie squeezes him tighter than he expected.

“Not for the past six months, no,” Lottie chides close to his ear. Pulling back, she ushers them into her house, announcing to Lucky and Lewis that Louis and Harry are here.

“Where’s Lucky?” Harry asks, dimples deep in his cheeks like he can’t stop smiling just from the thought of getting to see Lucky.

“He’s upstairs. Lewis is changing him. He will be down in a minute,” Lottie promises with a fond smile on her face. “I bought scones and danishes for tea today,” she says, walking into the kitchen.

Louis snickers. The inability to cook doesn’t only apply to him, his omega sister also has a tendency to burn whatever dish she tries to make. “Of course you did.”

Lottie rolls her eyes, flashing a middle finger to him.

“Lou, you need to look at this,” Harry mumbles, pulling Louis’ wrist behind him before he can continue teasing his sister. At the sight of a playpen tucked in the corner of the den, Louis understands why Harry called for him. Thick and soft cream coloured blankets are spread at one end, plush comfy pillows are arranged meticulously at the sides including a couple of Lucky’s favourite stuffed toys. “It’s a nest,” Harry marvels softly, walking close to the nest and smiling down at it. “How adorable. I hope our pup will like one. I can make one for them too.”

It’s not a rarity to build a nest for pups. They are usually comforted by soft things, and a nest is exactly that. Louis’ mum always said that her pups sleep best when surrounded by a familiar scent, and Lottie must have picked up the practice from her. She might even have a picture of her and Louis when they were young pups napping in the small nest their mum built for them tucked somewhere in the house. Louis is sure Harry would love to see it.

“Mum used to build us a nest when we were young,” Louis divulges, chuckling at Harry’s instant coos. “She said we slept better in a nest. I used to have one in my room until I turned eight.”

“Don’t forget that mum built you a different nest in the living room because you were territorial. He wouldn’t share his plushies with us, and mum said she already knew then that Louis would be an alpha,” Lottie cuts in flippantly as she walks into the den, carrying a tray of scones and danishes, and a pot of tea. She sets the tray on a small coffee table, poking her tongue out when Louis glares at her.

Harry turns to Louis, beaming. “Lou, that’s so cute. I never knew that. I -” Whatever Harry intended to say is interrupted by the loud giggling of a pup, and Harry instantly perks up. “Lucky!” He squeals, striding to Lewis and taking Lucky from his hands. Harry smothers Lucky’s chubby cheeks with kisses, pulling more laughter from him.

Only when Harry sets Lucky in his playpen, Lewis comes close and kisses Harry’s cheeks, patting his back. “Thank you for volunteering to take care of Lucky tonight. Me and Lotts haven’t been out, just the two of us, in a while to be honest.”

“We are?” Louis asks quizzically, at the same time Harry murmurs it’s not a big deal with a shit-eating grin on his face. He climbs into the playpen, grabbing the nearest rattle toy for Lucky to play with.

Louis doesn’t miss the subtle snort Lottie huffs out at his question. She must have planned it with Harry, conveniently leaving Louis out of the equation.

“Aaaa…” Harry opens his mouth big and wide, beaming when Lucky follows adorably. He scoops the last bit of red potato puree in the bowl he’s holding, feeding it to Lucky. “You are such a good pup, do you know that?” Harry asks in a small voice. He gasps loudly at the empty bowl, showing it to Lucky before wiping the mess of the puree dribbling down his mouth and chin with a tissue, cooing, “You love food, don’t you? You finished your dinner so quickly!”

Harry bops Lucky’s nose, and he screeches happily, kicking his small legs in the high chair. Louis’ hand instantly wraps around the back of the high chair, concerned that Lucky might accidentally push it against the kitchen cabinet. Harry undoes the bib around Lucky’s neck, wiping clean the cream silicone with a wet rag he gets from the sink.

It’s companionable silence for a while. Lucky in his own world, staring at his own hands, and Harry’s smile is soft as he hangs the bib to dry at the drying shelves, as if he’s so happy just to be cleaning it.

Until an audible pop sound burst their tranquility. They whips their heads at Lucky, and Harry giggles when Lucky’s face scrunches up, clearly uncomfortable with his nappy full.

“Let me change him,” Louis volunteers, standing up and removing the tray attached to the high chair. He props up Lucky on his hips, gently squeezing his chubby cheeks and pulling a surprised squeak from him.

Louis takes out the fresh diaper and wet wipes from the compartment of the changing table before setting Lucky on it, always keeping a firm hand on his body. He had a scare from changing the younger twins when they were around Lucky’s age with their active kicking that destabilised the changing table, and that is something he never wants to experience again.

Lucky smiles the entire time Louis changes him, a toothless grin that reminds Louis of his younger sister. The resemblance is uncanny.

“You are a natural,” Harry comments from where he’s leaning against the door frame, a soft smile tugging at his pink lips. Louis hadn’t even noticed he’d been standing there.

Louis props Lucky on his hips once again as he tosses the diaper into the bin. “I will let you know that this is not my first rodeo. I’m the eldest of six, babe,” he boasts, wiggling his eyebrows smugly.

Harry snorts, extending his hands to take Lucky from Louis. “Go wash your hands. I’m going to change him into his pyjamas.”

“I can change him,” Louis refutes, clutching Lucky a little tighter to himself.

Harry makes a face. “Yucky. Did you hear that, bub? Uncle Lou is being yucky,” he says in a small voice that interests Lucky enough that he stares earnestly at Harry, curiously holding out one hand to touch Harry’s face. It makes it easier for Harry to steal him away from Louis, squealing in triumph when Lucky immediately touches his cheek.

“Fine,” Louis concedes. He pecks a kiss on Lucky’s head before striding to the bathroom to wash his hands.

Coming out of the bathroom, Harry has just taken off Lucky’s top on the changing table. Harry is talking to Lucky in a small voice, cooing softly when he smiles at every several words.

“Let me read him his bedtime story today,” Louis offers as he walks closer, smoothing Lucky’s hair across his forehead just because.

Harry pouts, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “No, Lucky wants to be with Uncle Haz today, right bub?” He asks as he tickles Lucky’s sides, and he cackles heartily, displaying his pink gums.

Louis would have argued that Harry did most of the work already – playing with Lucky while his parents were getting ready, preparing his dinner, feeding him and cleaning the high chair, changing him into his pyjamas – but Louis knows how much it means to Harry, so he lets it be. “Fine,” he relents. “I’m going to make myself useful and make his milk then.” Lottie had stuck Lucky’s schedule, including his feeding routine on the fridge and Louis remembers reading that Lucky usually has a bottle before bed. He kisses Harry’s temple before bending down and doing the same to his nephew, smiling at the sheer happiness reflected on Harry’s face as Lucky babbles something unintelligible to him, Lucky’s tiny fist clutching onto the new onesie Harry chose for the night.

It’s quiet except the soft humming of the radiator in the guest bedroom when Louis finally finishes replying to his important work emails. He clicks off his iPad and sets it on the lone small table on his side of the bed. Harry is sleeping soundly beside him, his back turned to Louis because he fell asleep while staring at Lucky in his bassinet. The nightly routine of reading or watching the latest gruesome documentary on Netflix forgotten. Lottie just arrived about half an hour ago, popping her head in the guest bedroom to check on her son, easily shaking her head no when Louis asked whether she wanted Lucky to sleep in his own room.

Pressing a kiss on Harry’s curls, Louis swings his legs over the edge of the bed. He’s thirsty and he needs a glass of water before he can sleep.

Despite the lack of lighting, meandering in the hallway to go to the kitchen is easy enough as Louis has grown accustomed to Lottie’s house layout. Assisted by the dim moonlight filtering through the kitchen window, Louis grabs a glass from the drying rack, filling it with tap water.

“What are you doing in the dark?” A voice Louis knows too well asks, flicking the light switch on the wall, bathing the kitchen in white fluorescent light.

Louis squints at the offending brightness. “It’s not dark enough if you can see me,” he quips, turning back to see his sister standing in a pink and white striped pyjamas that Harry also has. “Did you buy Harry that?”

Lottie looks down to herself. “He bought it for me,” she corrects. “Daisy and Phoebe also have one. In black and pink.”

Louis nods, mumbling, “Of course.” Harry also has matching Christmas pyjamas with all of his siblings, which they usually wear on Christmas Eve. And no, Louis isn’t included.

“Is everything okay?” Lottie asks casually as she walks to the fridge, opening it and grabbing a bottle of what Louis thinks is apple juice.

Louis hums, taking a huge gulp of his water. He has a feeling Lottie’s question carries more weight, and he’s proven right when Lottie rolls her eyes, leaning on the side cabinet without looking like she wants to leave the kitchen anytime soon.

“How are you holding up?” She prompts again, this time not bothering to beat around the bush. She twists the cap of the bottle open and takes a sip. “And don’t say you are fine,” she warns, lips pursed like daring Louis to say exactly that. “Because I know you wouldn’t be here if everything was fine.”

“I can’t visit my own sister now?” Louis grumbles. Lottie seems unphased, merely arching an eyebrow at Louis’ rebuttal. “Fine. He took another pregnancy test yesterday morning, and it was negative.”

“And?” Lottie prods gently.

Louis sighs, turning around to refill his glass. “And he was crying. So I suggested that we take a pause.”

Lottie smirks knowingly, and Louis scowls. “How well did that go?”

“I’m here. So you know how well that went,” Louis snarks, shaking his head. Lottie probably has heard everything from Harry.

“You know, the best way to help an omega who’s struggling to conceive is just to be there for them. Assure them that it’s okay and remind them it will take patience and time.”

“He was crying for fuck’s sake,” Louis refutes, a surge of defensiveness raises in his chest over the image of Harry’s red-rimmed eyes and sniffling nose. “What am I supposed to do? Let him cry every time he takes the test?” Admittedly, compared to Harry, Louis is less than enthusiastic about having pups. But it’s not like he wants to stop permanently, the tests were clearly taking its toll on Harry, and Louis just wants the best for his omega.

Lottie tuts softly. “Haven’t you learned by now it’s impossible to control every situation?” With a soft smile, she continues, “It’s normal for an omega to feel protective over the idea of them conceiving, and you suggesting taking a pause was really a low blow for him. Just be there for him, Lou. He will appreciate it.”

Louis snorts. It’s easier said than done. Even the thought of Harry being upset rattles his alpha, let alone seeing Harry cry in front of him. Turning his back to Lottie, he rinses the glass he used. He tries, he really does, but he can’t help the bitter comment he lets out, “None of this would be happening if he didn’t suddenly decide that he wanted pups.”

Luckily for Louis, his voice was too low for Lottie to catch, and she retreated back to her room after bidding him good night. Placing the glass on the drying rack, Louis sighs. He clicks off the light switch and meanders back to the guest bedroom, climbing into bed soundlessly. He wraps an arm around Harry’s waist from behind, pulling Harry tight into his embrace and smiling at the soft sigh the omega lets out.

Louis has never felt more hopeless than he does right now, and he can only imagine how much worse Harry feels.

✩

Between work, trying to knock Harry up almost every day, and the damn negative pregnancy tests results, it’s been a while since Louis joined Harry on his shopping spree. It used to be the only way to spend time with Harry when they were in a sugaring arrangement before. They are back to normal after coming back from Lottie’s house — coffee and breakfast in the morning, and Harry gets a little pouty when Louis accidentally forgets to kiss him goodbye one day — but it’s not exactly an apology without spoiling his omega a little, so he asks Harry out on Saturday.

Louis is downstairs, watching the last footie recap that he missed last night as he eats the full English breakfast Harry made when he hears an ear splitting scream from the master bedroom.

“Babe? Are you okay?!” Louis yells in panic, hurriedly placing the plate on the coffee table. He sprints towards the stairs and takes two steps at once to get to the master bedroom. His heart is pounding, and his alpha is clawing at his chest, worried that something had happened to Harry.

Only to see his omega standing naked in their ensuite, clutching something in hand. Harry’s eyes are watery, but there’s no mistaking the thick, sweet honey and vanilla scent filtering through the master bedroom.

He’s happy. Undeniably happy.

“Baby?” Louis prompts warily, crossing the room in quick strides. “What happened? Is everything okay?”

Harry lets out a little quiver through his mouth, nodding vehemently. “I’m - it’s - it’s positive, Lou,” he whispers, voice low like he can’t believe the words coming out his mouth. He opens his palm to reveal the pregnancy test in his hand, and true to his words, the small glass window on the stick shows a symbol +.

“Oh, baby…” Louis pulls Harry into a tight embrace, squeezing his waist when Harry elicits a wet chuckle. “That’s good, yeah? You will be a mummy soon.”

Harry looks down to the test in hand, frowning slightly. “What if it’s a false positive?” He mumbles worriedly, biting his plush bottom lips so hard that it turns white.

Louis pulls the abused lip with his thumb, kissing it softly. “I will call the clinic and make an appointment for us, okay?”

Harry’s nod is imperceptible. He’s still worried, and Louis can feel the dampness of his glee at the thought the result may be a false positive, chipping away at the omega’s sweet scent of honey and vanilla.

“Hey, whatever happens, we will get through it, okay? I love you.”

A soft smile appears at Harry’s lips. “I love you too,” he echoes, leaning his head on Louis’ shoulder. He tilts his face closer to Louis’ neck, taking a deep inhale of Louis’ scent to calm his heart down.

Luckily for them, a spot opens up after a patient cancelled and just before noon, Harry and Louis are already waiting in the clinic to be called in. They are assigned to Doctor Beatrice, an elderly omega doctor that specialises in male omega pregnancies.

After conducting some preliminary blood work, it turns out that the result is accurate. Harry shrieks happily at the news, squeezing their intertwined hands as the doctor explains that the false negative Harry had a week ago (the exact one that caused their fall out) is most likely because he took the test too early.

At four weeks pregnant, it is too early for an ultrasound, let alone hearing the heartbeat. Following the doctor’s recommendation, Harry makes a new appointment for week eight, promptly sending the date and time to Oli to block off Louis’ schedule.

Harry is unquestionably clingy and tactile after their appointment. Walking out of the clinic, he laces their hands together and purses his lips for a kiss when Louis opens his car door. Once Louis has reversed the car from the parking lot, Harry takes Louis’ hand across the console, intertwining their fingers together, and it goes like that for the rest of the drive — Louis pulling back his hand every time he needs to turn on the signal or shift gear, and Harry taking it back seconds after.

“Oh, I thought we are going home,” Harry says as soon as Louis puts the signal to go into Selfridges’ basement car park.

Louis furrows his brows. “I promised to bring you shopping, didn’t I? Unless you are too tired to walk?”

Harry purses his lips, almost immediately shaking his head. “I’m fine to walk.”

“Okay. But you will let me know if you are tired, right?” Louis asks, flicking his eyes to Harry who’s staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I -” Harry takes a pregnant pause, chuckling to himself before continuing, “You know, I can’t remember if there was an instance where I was too tired for shopping.”

The furrow on Louis’ forehead only grows. “But you weren’t pregnant then,” he stresses as he tries to find the closest parking spot to the entrance. Harry doesn’t mind walking, but Louis certainly does.

A small giggle erupts from Harry’s side. “I’m only four weeks pregnant, Lou. There are omegas who work until their due date, you know.”

“I don’t care about other omegas. I only care about mine,” Louis grumbles, disgruntled that Harry is taking his concern so lightly. “Tell me if your feet are tired, okay?”

Harry coos softly, lacing their hands together once again and bringing it to his lap. “Is this how you are going to be for the rest of my pregnancy?” He asks, ignoring the last part of Louis’ question.

“What? Protective?” Louis glances to his side.

Harry squints his eyes contemplatively. “More like overbearing,” he corrects, a teasing smile on his lips.

“Hey,” Louis protests. “The doctor said the first trimester is where your body is trying to get used to the changes of being pregnant. Is it wrong that I’m being concerned?”

“Of course not. I like it when you go all alpha on me,” Harry quips easily, cheeks pink from his admission. Ever since they left the clinic, the smile has never left his face and both dimples are deep in his cheeks. Louis loves the look on his omega – the pure happiness from finally being pregnant, and he squeezes their interlocked fingers, bringing it to his lips to kiss the back of Harry’s hand.

Maybe there’s some truth in what Harry said. Not even an hour into their outing, Louis has glared to at least three alphas who he thinks stare a little too long at Harry, scowling at a beta whose mouth gaps open when Harry bends down to fix his shoe laces. It’s not the first time it has happened, especially with an omega as pretty as Harry on his hand, but Louis has never minded it so much before. He’s proud that among all people Harry could have, he chose Louis in the end. But with the pregnancy news, his alpha’s hackles have risen to a record level.

With how visibly happy Harry is, how can he not?

“I don’t need new clothes. I just bought some last week,” Harry points out when Louis wants to enter the Gucci store, bringing him back to the moment.

“Not with me, you didn’t,” Louis replies without missing a beat, pulling Harry’s hand before he can say anything else.

“Oh, Mister Tomlinson! What a pleasant surprise! You didn’t tell me you were coming,” the sales assistant greets from the side once the humongous glass door is open.

Harry smiles, the kind that he reserves for making a polite conversation, showing off only one side of his dimple. “We were just in the area, and my alpha decided to keep me company today.”

The sales assistant with the name tag ‘Amelia’ clipped on her shirt turns to Louis, smiling brightly. “Oh, how lucky! Is there anything in your mind?”

Despite refusing new clothes just minutes before, Harry takes out his phone and opens his gallery, going on about the new collection he saw last night on Instagram. Less than thirty minutes later, Harry is in the fitting room, trying on a silk sundress. The hanging rack outside the fitting room is full with more clothes to be tried, courtesy of Amelia’s effectiveness, and Louis easily accepts the flute of champagne from her, taking a seat on the plush couch while waiting.

“Is it just me or this doesn’t look as unflattering as I thought it would?” Harry asks rhetorically as he steps out of the fitting room, pouting a little at the image reflected on the tall mirror at the corner of the waiting room.

Louis takes a sip of the champagne, squinting his eyes. Harry is wearing a white cotton sundress with a multicoloured floral print, the length of it touching his lower shin. The two shoulder straps with a square neckline display the swallows tattoo on his chest, and he looks breathtaking.

“Give me a twirl,” Louis says, moving his index finger like how he wants Harry to move. Harry obliges, but the pout stays on his lips. “You look pretty, baby,” Louis comments. “You know I love you in white.”

“I don’t know…” Harry whines, meandering to the mirror and turning side to the side, flaring his lightweight skirt. “It’s just — will it still look pretty on me when I’m bigger?” He asks, the last of his sentence is muttered under his breath.

Louis furrows his brows, trying to understand what Harry means. The realisation clicks in, and he coos, “Oh, baby, you know you won’t be showing for a while, right?”

“I know,” Harry presses, his tone petulant. “But can you imagine me wearing this when I’m in my second trimester?”

“Yes, and I imagine you will look very pretty in it,” Louis murmurs, setting down his flute on the glass table beside the couch and ambling towards Harry. He wraps his hands around Harry’s waist from behind, cradling the still flat tummy. “You have a full closet of maternity dresses, baby. I think you will have plenty of options to choose from even if this one doesn’t fit.”

Harry smiles shyly, and his cheeks pinken. “I’m just gonna take a bigger size to be safe.”

Louis hums, pressing a soft kiss close to Harry’s bond mark.

“I can’t wait,” Harry whispers, squeezing Louis’ hand on his tummy meaningfully.

“Can’t wait to become big and swollen with my pup?”

Harry giggles, glancing over his shoulder. “Lou! You make it sound so filthy.”

“Don’t act like it doesn’t turn you on,” Louis whispers huskily.

Like the insatiable omega he is, Harry’s smile turns coquettish in the mirror almost immediately. He bats his eyelashes, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and a glint of mischief apparent in his bright green eyes.

“No, we have things to do,” Louis refuses, promptly distancing himself from his omega. He knows he will be tempted to fuck Harry against the small wall of the fitting room if he didn’t. He just meant to tease. “Go try on the rest of the clothes. I want to see how pretty you look,” he says, slapping Harry’s bum and chuckling over Harry’s sullen walk, dragging his feet pitifully to the hanging rack to pick out the next blouse to try.

Harry mumbles his gratitude to the shop assistants who bring their shopping bags to the car, beaming from ear to ear. Louis might have convinced Harry to buy most of what he tried at Gucci, coaxing Harry to get two pairs of Adidas X Gucci Gazelle shoes in colours that Harry doesn’t have yet, including choosing a black leather crossbody bag from JW Anderson that he thinks would look nice on Harry.

“Are you too tired to walk?” Louis asks, pressing the button to close the trunk of the car.

Harry whips his head to him, an amused tilt to his lips. “You haven’t finished shopping yet?”

Louis clicks his tongue, pressing the key fob to lock the car and grabbing Harry’s hand, lacing their fingers together. He has a surprise in mind, which he came across scrolling on a random website while waiting for Harry.

“Indulge me, baby,” he murmurs, kissing the back of Harry’s hand.

Harry follows without question, only asking to stop once at a juice kiosk because he is thirsty. He takes too long in deciding what he wants because there’s no other customer there, and they end up with two drinks instead of one because Harry can’t make up his mind between the two recommendations from the cashier.

Louis only takes a sip, cursing under his breath at the strong taste of celery. Harry giggles, shaking his head fondly, and he finishes both on their way there.

“What are we doing here?” Harry asks suspiciously, coming to a skid in front of Mikimoto. Louis is pretty certain neither of them have never been here, but the jeweller has one of the best cultured-pearl necklaces in London, which is exactly what he’s looking for.

“I’m buying you a gift, come on,” Louis pulls Harry’s hand, only this time he doesn’t budge.

“You already bought me a lot today,” Harry mumbles, his brows pinched. “I already forgave you.”

Louis snorts. Harry knows him too well, knows that Louis loves spoiling him especially after a fight. “What if I say it’s a gift for carrying my pup?”

Harry gasps, his hand lands on his tummy. “But it’s just — it’s just four weeks,” he says breathily, his dimples pop and his cheeks blush faintly.

“All the more reason to buy it now. So you can wear it for the rest of the pregnancy.”

They are led to a private room at the back of the store, and while waiting for their shop assistant to come back with the necklaces that Louis requested, they are offered beverages. Harry opts for an apple juice, as if he didn’t drink most of the juices he bought just now, while Louis takes up the offer of prosecco.

When it comes to jewellery, Harry doesn’t have an extravagant taste. He likes a simplistic design that carries a sentimental value, like the humongous HS rings he wears sometimes because his old childhood friend gifted it to him, or a rose shaped ring that he bought at a flea market with his first salary. Out of everything in his jewellery collection, he only wears a cross necklace with a banana dick pendant and his wedding ring everyday. So it’s not exactly out of the ordinary when the first necklace his eyes are drawn to is a singular chain and pearl necklace.

“It can be worn by itself or layered with other necklaces. It features eighteen Akoya cultured pearls and the chain is an 18k white gold,” the shop assistant chirps helpfully as Harry’s index finger caresses one of the pearls on the necklace.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know much about pearls. But are Akoya pearls better than South Sea pearls? I know South Sea pearls are very popular,” Harry asks, and Louis has to bite back a smile at the inquiry. Give it to Harry to never buy pearls, but somehow he just knows.

The shop assistant’s eyes glimmer, his face lights up as if he sees an old friend. “It depends on your preferences. Akoya pearls have perfect round shapes, bright mirror-like lustre and neutral colours,” he explains, taking a full pearl necklace with a glove hand and placing the strand beside the first one. “This one is made of South Sea pearls. They have off-round shapes and usually silvery-white or gold in colour, which makes it a statement piece. But the major difference between the two are their sizes. Akoya pearls are generally smaller, and South Sea pearls are larger, simply because they grow in a large genus of oyster.”

By the end of it, Harry and the shop assistant, Moon, have learned each other’s name, giggling over each other’s jokes as if they have known each other for years while Louis gives Moon his business card, and the beta promises to contact him if there’s a matching bracelet or earring coming.

For all the shopping they did and thousands of pounds spent today, they end up having takeaway pizza as their dinner. Harry says he’s too full from the pastries he ate at Harrods, but he relents and opens his mouth anyway when Louis holds a slice of pepperoni pizza in front of his mouth.

“It feels like we did 1001 different things today,” Harry says, tearing a chilli flake packet and handing it to Louis.

“We did,” Louis agrees, sprinkling some of it on his pizza slice before taking a bite.

Harry turns to him suddenly, and the way he patiently waits for Louis to finish chewing is a sign that he wants to talk about something.

Louis wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yes?” He prompts, placing his pizza slice on a plate and taking a gulp of the beer to wash away the spicy taste. He might have gone overboard with the chilli flake.

“How are you feeling?”

Louis’ forehead puckers. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I know I’m excited about the pup,” Harry says, voice slow and uncertain as his manicured fingers fidget with his new pearl necklace. He ended up taking his first choice — the white gold chain with Akoya pearls — because of its minimal design and the way it layered so beautifully with his everyday cross necklace. The thin strand perfectly compliments his dainty neck, even with a banana dick pendant hanging at the bottom. “But — are you?” The question pulls Louis back into reality.

Louis straightens, his body rigid thinking that he slipped somewhere. Wasn’t he happy enough for Harry today? Placing the bottle of beer on the coffee table, Louis wipes the crumbs off his fingers with a napkin before taking Harry’s hand, lacing their fingers together and bringing it to his lap. “Of course I am. We are going to be parents, babe. It’s about time this home welcomes someone new, right?”

Harry beams, nodding softly. “It’s just — it feels like so many things happened today and we didn’t even have time to soak the news in. Can you believe I’m finally pregnant?” The last part of his sentence is almost incomprehensible because of how wide he’s smiling.

It’s been a while since Harry looks so happy, buzzing with excitement in his skin, eyes bright and earnest and both dimples seem to have taken up a permanent residence in his cheeks today. His omega’s happiness is infectious and before long, Louis is grinning too, vowing to himself that he will do whatever it takes to keep the smile on his omega’s face. Cradling Harry’s face in hand, Louis slots their lips together, a delicate kiss that he hopes conveys what the words couldn’t.

✩

For how long they have been waiting for Harry to get pregnant, the rest of the pregnancy seems to come by too quickly. They went to the eight week appointment for the ultrasound, and Harry choked up at the quick swishing sound of their pup’s heartbeat. He dragged Louis to Harrods for the nursery furniture afterward, and despite every article on Google telling them that it was too early to think about nursery at week eight, Louis coaxed Harry to get the white oak dresser that he had saved to his Pinterest board two weeks ago.

It didn’t take long before Harry bought the storage compartment for the dresser, and one day, Louis came back to Harry in the still empty nursery with freshly washed pup clothes strewn all over him, folding the laundry and arranging them meticulously in each drawer. They ended up having Chinese takeaway in the nursery with Louis feeding Harry simply because his omega wouldn’t let go of the tiny clothes just yet.

Louis has been surrounded with many pregnant omegas and betas before, from his own family to his staff, and he knew how bad the morning sickness could be, but Harry didn’t have any. Louis didn’t think it was possible, but Doctor Beatrice assured him that it was totally fine and every pregnancy was different.

They agreed to start telling people once Harry passed the second trimester, although of course, Oli and Lottie already knew because Harry couldn’t curb his excitement, and in his defence he said that they were always bound to know earlier than anyone else.

The thing about pregnancy is — it makes Harry so radiant. There’s something about his skin and his smile, a glow of some sort that makes him even prettier than before.

And that’s exactly how he looks this morning. Bathed in the light of the early morning sunshine filtering through a tiny gap of the curtains, Harry looks like an angel sleeping beside Louis. His dark chocolate curls are fanned out on the white pillow like a halo, and his pillowy pink lips are slightly parted in his sleep.

Tilting his head, Louis pecks a kiss on Harry’s nose, smiling at the way Harry automatically scrunches his nose. Louis would feel bad if it’s not almost Harry’s wake up time anyway.

“Can I skip working out today?” Harry grouses several minutes later, his eyes are still closed and a deep furrow is formed between his eyebrows.

“Of course. Although you said you need to do yoga everyday to stretch out your body for delivery,” Louis advises, repeating what Harry said to him just a week ago.

Harry pouts even with his eyes still closed. He looks adorable, and Louis kisses his lips this time to get a piece of it. “But I have thirty more weeks to do yoga,” he whines out, finally opening his eyes.

Louis is a little bit breathless watching his omega. The way Harry’s eyes are still weary with sleep, but looking so so bright. The yellow hue from the sun makes golden in Harry’s irises flicker, bringing out the contrast against the pool of the sea foam green. Louis truly didn’t imagine the glow that the pregnancy brings.

“Okay, let me tuck you back to sleep,” Louis encourages after getting his awe in control, opening his arms for Harry to cuddle into.

Harry hums, inching closer and burrowing his face in Louis’ neck. He takes an audible inhale of Louis’ scent, sighing in content. As if knowing his omega is now carrying his pup isn’t enough of an ego stroke to his alpha, Harry’s scent has become sweeter from the pregnancy — a perfect concoction of Harry’s sweet honey and vanilla scent and Louis’ rich, dark chocolate mixing in together.

Louis cards his fingers through Harry’s soft curls, rumbling low in chest to lull Harry back to sleep, only for his omega to pipe out raspily several minutes later, “I’m horny. I can’t sleep.”

Before Louis can give a proper reaction, Harry kicks off the cover, pushes Louis back and straddles him swiftly, his palm flat on Louis’ chest. “Hi,” Harry whispers, blush creeping into his face.

The corner of Louis’ mouth quirks up into a sly grin. “Hi, baby. That horny, huh?” He teases as he catches a whiff of Harry’s slick in the air.

“Don’t tease. I’m horny because of you,” Harry whines, bouncing gently on Louis’ thighs like a kid begging for something.

Louis’ hands immediately grab Harry’s hips, worried that he might accidentally topple himself. It wouldn’t be the first time its happened. His omega isn’t exactly known for his coordination. “You are always horny,” he chides.

“Yes, but now I’m hornier,” Harry points out shamelessly. “It’s because I’m carrying your pup.”

Louis snorts. There’s truth in that statement. With how much effort has gone into the baby making, he thought that he and Harry’s sex life would take a break now that Harry is pregnant. Judging that this is the third time Harry is straddling his lap just this week alone (it’s Thursday), it looks like their sex life isn’t going to take a pause anytime soon.

“Take off your dress then,” Louis demands, arching an eyebrow.

Harry grins, bending down to kiss Louis’ lips. Rising on his knees, he grabs the hem of his dress, slowly pulling it over his head like he’s making a personal show for Louis. The satin slip dress lands on the floorboard with a soft thud, and Harry shakes his head to smooth out his curls. The way they cascades over his shoulder, displaying his dainty neck that is adorned with Louis’ teeth mark and Louis’ gift for carrying his pup should be obscene. Harry has been awake for less than twenty minutes, and somehow it’s the second time this morning Louis has to take a deep inhale to calm his heart down.

With nothing to soak in the slick, this time Louis can feel how wet Harry is when he sits back on Louis’ thighs. He kneads the meat of Harry’s arse with his hands, feeling them supple and soft under his fingers.

“Oh, wait — I think we should change position.” Harry takes Louis’ hands from his arse, easily shedding them away before he scurries to climb off Louis’ body and lays back on his side of the bed.

“Why are we changing position? Are you hurting?” Louis asks. Harry tugs him to go on top, and he obliges, despite being puzzled. “Baby?”

Harry places his hand on his tummy, now looking a little bit bloated at week ten. “My stomach will get bigger soon, so I figure we should do this position while it’s still small. Plus, I can get my stretching done this way too.”

Louis tuts, shaking his head playfully. “Ah, now you are just using me.”

“Take off your pants, please,” Harry requests sweetly, batting his eyelashes for added effect as he impatiently tugs on Louis’ plaid pyjama pants.

Louis strips out of his pyjama pants, tossing them haphazardly on the floor. His hard cock slaps against his stomach, thanks to his morning wood and having his insatiable omega straddling his thighs. Ever since the pregnancy, Louis’ alpha is more attuned to Harry’s omega. If Harry produces slick, then it doesn’t take beyond one whiff of the sweet scent before Louis gets an erection. It used to take more to make him hard, but now he’s so easy for Harry, and frankly, Louis doesn’t really mind.

“You look so pretty,” Louis praises, trailing his index finger from Harry’s neck down to his side. Harry’s skin is soft and smooth under Louis’ fingers, still warm from sleep. He bends down, pressing a soft kiss on Harry’s pink lips and Harry sighs into it, smiling. Louis tries to pry Harry’s lips open with his tongue, and Harry turns his head away, breaking the kiss.

“No tongue. I haven’t brushed my teeth,” he whines, pouting a little.

Louis snorts. “I have had my tongue in your arse, babe.”

Harry makes an affronted noise from the back of his throat, swatting Louis’ bicep. “Not the same,” he grumbles. “Come on, fuck me.”

Louis could return the favour to Harry, straddling his thighs, but because Harry insisted on using sex to replace his yoga, Louis wraps his hands around Harry’s ankles, tugging the omega closer and spreading his legs open.

Harry lets out a loud gasp, surprised by the sudden movement. “Oh fuck. You know - maybe this isn’t such a good idea. I feel really exposed.” The blush on his cheeks spreads down to his neck, and he fists the sheet underneath his hands.

“Too late to back out, baby,” Louis says, smirking at how Harry forces a breath through his mouth. His hard cock twitches when Louis grazes a finger on his rim without preamble. Louis knows Harry is wet, can smell the sweet scent in the air, and can see the slick glistening down Harry’s crack, but it’s been a while since he’s fingered his omega so he plunges two fingers right away and the sloppy, squelching sound it produces becomes music to his ears.

Harry’s thighs clench around him almost immediately, his eyes squeezed shut as a loud moan escapes his throat. “Nnggh, fuck.”

When it comes to his omega, Louis has memorised all the right buttons to press, so he scissors his fingers, coaxing more slick until it forms a damp spot underneath Harry’s arse. Adding a third digit, Louis curls them, easily finding the swollen spot that he knows will drive Harry crazy.

Harry writhes underneath him, his thighs quivering and his lips constantly calling out alpha alpha alpha with a stuttered gasp. Harry’s cock dribbles more precome on his stomach, and Louis takes the opportunity to wrap his hand around the head, pressing his thumb to the slit as he rubs Harry’s prostate insistently.

The combination of being stimulated on both sides pulls an inhuman mewl out of Harry. “Nnggh, fuck, alpha… fuck - so good - fuck - I’m gonna come,” Harry babbles desperately and his knuckles turn white from clutching the at sheets. His whole body tenses, the abs on his stomach become pronounced with how hard he’s clenching and it takes less than three seconds before he’s shooting white ribbons across his stomach, moaning unabashedly.

Withdrawing his fingers from Harry’s hole, Louis swirls his tongue on his index finger, tasting the sweetness of Harry’s slick. “You taste so sweet, omega.”

Harry’s eyes are still closed, blissful from his orgasm, but he opens his mouth regardless, and Louis pushes two fingers into it, smiling down at how eager Harry tasting himself on Louis’ digits.

Careful to not squeeze Harry’s body underneath him, Louis murmurs close to Harry’s ear, “Such a perfect omega, baby. Carrying my pup, cleaning your slick from me. Should I give you my knot?”

Harry blinks his eyes open, green irises dark from arousal. He nods with Louis’ fingers still in his throat, humming softly. With Harry’s hazy gaze on him, Louis pulls his fingers from Harry’s mouth, settling himself between Harry’s legs once again. Louis scoops the slick from Harry’s hole, smearing it over his cock before slowly pushing the tip in.

Harry’s rim muscle barely gives any resistance, it flutters easily around Louis’ length. After the first orgasm, Harry’s cock lays soft on his stomach, and the rest of his body is pliant and lax. He lets out a soft gasp every time Louis hits his prostate, toes curling deliciously, but he doesn’t babble or curse, merely whimpers when Louis ruts harder.

Louis kisses Harry’s non tattoo on his left knee before wrapping his hand around Harry’s ankle, tossing Harry’s right leg over his shoulder. It punches a loud gasp from Harry, and his eyes widen when Louis sits up on his knees and leans forward, nearly folding Harry in half.

“Fuck,” Harry croaks out, clutching to Louis’ bicep. “Feel you so deep like this, alpha.”

Louis kisses Harry’s lips, groaning at the sweet aftertaste of Harry’s slick on his mouth. He takes a deep breath as he feels his knot pulsing, hungry to be pushed into Harry’s warm hole. Setting on quick rhythm, Louis pulls out his cock entirely before pushing back in, his knot flushed red against Harry’s arse. Harry’s exhale stutters as his walls spasm and contract around Louis’ cock. Louis pulls back, awed at the sight of Harry’s wet hole, his slick and Louis’ precome trickling down his smooth crack.

“Alpha,” Harry whimpers when the next thrust doesn’t come in after several seconds.

“I’m here, omega. I’m here,” Louis soothes, looking down at Harry’s puffy rim, flexing hungrily as he waits for the promised knot. An alpha timbre lacing Louis’ words next, “Just admiring how hungry your hole looks like.”

“Knot, please,” Harry begs prettily, his chest rising up and down rapidly, almost in sync with the clench of his hole.

“Gonna give you the stretching you want, baby,” Louis growls out, pushing Harry’s left leg flat on the bed. It gives him the desired effect, and he leans forward, bending Harry in half as he pistons his hips faster than before.

Harry’s lips are parted open, no more sound coming out from his throat and his cock kicks weakly, precome dribbling from the pink slit. Louis cups Harry’s tit in one hand, grazing his thumb on the hardened nub.

Harry’s brows furrowed. “Alpha, be gentle,” he reminds, but not pushing Louis’ hand away.

“I am, baby. I am,” Louis coos, knowing how sensitive Harry’s tits are because of the pregnancy. He can’t wait to see Harry’s chest bloom, milk filling it, and the image of Harry’s stomach swollen and round paired with his voluptuous tits is finally what makes Louis’ hips stutter. Familiar heat pools in his stomach, and he snaps his hips harder, burying his knot inside Harry when the base convulses. Louis’ knot pops as he comes with a loud grunt, his sight blackened out with how powerful his release is.

In his post orgasm bliss, Louis wraps a hand around Harry’s cock, using his thumb to rub at the wet slit. It doesn’t take long for Harry to reach his peak once again, and he comes with a broken mewl, his walls milking every last drop of his alpha’s seed.

Louis shifts cautiously so as to not tug his knot that is still locked inside Harry, bringing Harry’s leg down from his shoulder to his waist. He massages Harry’s thigh with one hand, cooing softly when Harry’s body spasms with aftershocks. He pays the same attention to Harry’s other leg, wrapping it around his waist and kneading the meat of Harry’s thigh gently.

“Is that good enough to replace your yoga today?” Louis rasps, carding a hand through Harry’s sweaty curls. He makes a mental note to help Harry wash it later, taking his sweet time in making sure every strand is properly lathered with shampoo.

Harry’s mouth curls up in a small smile. He lets out a soft hum, fluttering his eyes close as he nuzzles into Louis’ palm, wordlessly asking Louis to never stop playing with his hair.

✩

It’s somewhere during week thirteen when it happens. Harry was sulking for the past three days, refusing to eat the low calorie carrot cake (he was adamant in eating healthy for their pup) Louis ordered to celebrate his second trimester because his baby belly is yet to pop. He whined about feeling and looking bloated, and it didn’t help that both Krystle and Lottie told him that their baby bump started showing up before they even reached the second trimester.

Harry would stand naked in front of the ensuite mirror every morning, rubbing his palm over his slightly distended belly as he turned from side to side, furrowing brows in concentration. Louis tried to convince Harry that the bloat can be considered as a baby belly too, only to receive a scowl and a swat to his bicep in response.

So when he is awakened by Harry’s loud squeal coming from the ensuite, and his omega pounces himself on the bed seconds after, grabbing Louis’ hand and placing it right on his belly, Louis can already guess what it’s about.

“Baby belly?” Louis croaks out, blinking his bleary eyes to adjust to the brightness of the room. His voice is rough from sleep, and he clears his throat.

“Yes!” Harry’s answering shriek is high pitched, excitement evident on his too wide smile and deep crescents in his cheeks. Louis pulls his omega in, planting a kiss on Harry’s lips before doing the same on his belly.

“Does this mean you are going to start wearing crop tops now?” Louis teases, knowing how many crop tops Harry has in his closet and yet he has never seen Harry wearing them. He rubs absentmindedly Harry’s tummy. It still feels soft, squishy underneath his palm, and he can barely detect a difference between bloated and baby belly, but he believes Harry knows better.

Harry gasps, his green eyes wide and sparkly merely from the question. “I should, shouldn’t I?” He whispers conspiratorially. “Or maybe something tight so I can show off my bump.”

✩

Showing off his bump is exactly what Harry does. He trades all of his flowy blouses and dresses for more tight fitting clothes. Much to his delight, his baby belly goes from barely noticeable in week thirteen to impossible to conceal in week fifteen. The growth feels overnight – one day Louis can comfortably wrap his arm around his omega’s waist, and the next day he can feel his muscle ache from extending his arm too long.

Being mated to Harry means Louis has grown accustomed to waiting for the omega to get ready, but now that Harry is pregnant and his bump is prominent, it feels like he takes twice as long to get ready.

“Baby!” Louis calls, flicking his eyes to the clock on his phone screen. “We will be late if we don’t leave in the next fifteen minutes.” They are due for their sixteen week antenatal appointment with Doctor Beatrice at eleven o’clock this morning, and according to Harry, it’s the only slot that is available for the week.

“I’m ready!” Harry shouts from the walk-in closet. It takes him a couple more minutes before he eventually walks out of the closet, clad in white crop top and low waist maternity denim, proudly showcasing his swollen belly. He pairs it with Louis’ white button down shirt, and his black sunglasses are perched on top of his curls. Harry’s pet peeve when it comes to his maternity clothes is he despises wearing black. He said that the colour gives him the illusion of a slimmer belly, which is exactly the opposite of what he’s looking for.

“Is that all you are going to wear?” Louis asks sceptically. He grabs his denim jacket from the bed, pulling one sleeve over his arm before doing the same to the other side.

Harry looks down to his outfit, nodding. “Yes. Lou… I have a bun in the oven, hence my body’s rising temperature,” he pouts, rubbing his belly to emphasise his point.

Louis is too endeared by his pregnant omega to quip a reply to his pun, although he can’t help the shake of his head. Harry only laughs, hooking his arm on the crook of Louis’ elbow before climbing down the stairs together.

“You will feel a little bit cold,” Doctor Beatrice advises gently before squeezing a dollop of blue gel on Harry’s belly. She uses the transducer to spread the gel further, pushing down the white towel that is slipped into the stretchy waistband of the maternity denim Harry is wearing.

By now, both Harry and Louis can recognise the blob that is their pup on the screen without their doctor pointing it out for them, and Louis gives a quick squeeze to Harry’s hand, matching the smile on his face. The rapid swooshing sound washes the room which pulls a grin out of Doctor Beatrice.

“That’s a very strong, healthy heartbeat. 145 beats per minute which is in normal range,” Doctor Beatrice explains. She clicks a screenshot through the ultrasound machine several times before elaborating on the next step of the appointment.

By the end of their appointment, Doctor Beatrice hands Harry the ultrasound picture that she took, explaining once again all the white globs that are their pup’s arms, legs, fingers and toes. She informs them their pup’s growth is on track for a first male omega’s pregnancy, which has been recorded as faster than a female omega because they usually carry their pup to the full term.

Harry’s hand immediately goes to his bump, cradling it lovingly. Concern etched on his face, making his brows furrowed. “Is it okay if I don’t reach forty weeks? If I deliver early?”

Doctor Beatrice smiles, nodding. “Yes. Like I have mentioned, your pup’s growth is normal and on track for most first male omega pregnancies, so our goal here is to reach thirty-eight weeks. It gives them enough time to develop all the important organs and also lowers the likelihood of spending time at the NICU.”

Harry’s scent changes slightly. A little burnt note to his sweet vanilla scent which means he’s worried. Louis laces their fingers together, squeezing Harry’s hand gently. “At least thirty-eight weeks?” Louis asks for confirmation despite the hollow starting up in his chest. He refuses to entertain any scenario of complications during or after birth.

Doctor Beatrice bobs her head. The kind smile that never leaves her face does little to reassure Louis about Harry’s pregnancy. “Fret not, most male omega pregnancies are totally safe. It’s why I’m here,” she affirms gently. Flicking her eyes to the monitor screen on her side, she turns to Harry. “Plus, you are a very healthy omega, Mister Tomlinson, so I don’t foresee any trouble in carrying the pup to thirty-eight weeks.”

“Okay. I’m just a bit worried, is all. I -” Taking a deep breath, Harry admits in a slower voice, “This is my first experience. I don’t have male omega friends who already have pup on their own.”

“Oh, that brings me to the next thing that I should remind you about. Preferably, this is the week where you start planning on your antenatal classes. It’s totally up to you if you want to attend one, or not. It’s not compulsory, but it’s a good place to meet other expectant mums. You can have a chat with our admin staff at the front desk to ask about the recommendation.”

Harry gnaws on his bottom lip, mumbling, “I have to decide now?”

Doctor Beatrice shakes her head, waving her slender fingers in the air. “You have until week twenty to decide. That’s when people usually enrol, but the classes don’t start until 8 to 10 weeks before the pup is due,” she explains diligently, the smile on her lips doesn’t falter even a second. “So for now, you just have to decide whether you want to attend one, and if so, which class,” she concludes.

Expectedly, Harry spends a little over an hour talking to the admin staff about antenatal classes after their appointment while Louis has to excuse himself for a virtual meeting with an international client. It’s a meeting that he can’t skip out on, and luckily Harry doesn’t mind.

Louis clicks off the meeting just in time with Harry opening the car door and plopping down on the passenger seat beside him.

“How did it go?” Louis asks, turning his head to press a chaste kiss on Harry’s lips.

Harry is eager, almost bouncing in the seat as Louis tugs the seatbelt for him, securing it carefully over his bump. Grinning, Harry pulls about a dozen or so pamphlets of antenatal classes from his handbag. “Safe to say I have plenty of options to choose from. Like there’s this one class that is specifically catered to male omegas. That’s amazing, right? I had no idea that it is a thing.”

Glancing down at the bright coloured pamphlets in Harry’s lap, Louis mutters, “Good thing you have a month to choose, yeah? How are you feeling? You are still up for that Harrods’ visit?” Now that he’s in his second trimester, Harry has started looking for important nursery furniture like the cot and the changing table. It feels like visiting a furniture store is what all Harry does with his days lately. Long gone are the day where he goes window shopping to hunt for a new designer collection for himself or for Louis.

The question makes Harry’s green eyes sparkle, and Louis chuckles, already getting his answer. Maybe sixteen weeks of pregnancy is too early for other couples to think about cots, but Louis knows that his omega will take weeks to decide on the right one. Hence the earlier they start, the better.

✩

“Baby?” Louis calls, toeing off his dress shoes in the entryway. He picks them up, storing them in the shoe cupboard because he doesn’t want Harry and his bulging tummy in the way to tidy up after him. “I called you to tell you I’m on my way, but you didn’t pick up,” Louis says, ambling towards the kitchen where he normally finds his pregnant omega at this hour of the day – nursing a huge bowl of salad or fruits for snacking.

The kitchen is glaringly barren, and judging by the lack of drying dishes on the rack, it looks like Harry didn’t even have his lunch at home.

A gentle crease forms in Louis’ forehead. “Baby?” He calls out again, his voice a volume louder than before as he walks into the living room. The space is also empty. Crossing the room, he peers at the sliding door that oversees their garden and unsurprisingly, there’s no one there either. Fishing out his phone from his pocket, Louis checks on his notifications, but there’s no message or missed calls from Harry. They are supposed to go out for dinner tonight, and usually at fifteen past six, Harry would have been ready and waiting to go.

Louis climbs the stairs, feet striding straight to their master bedroom and the corner of his lips twitches at the sight of Harry’s leather crossbody bag and oversized jacket tossed haphazardly on their bed. Harry must have gone out shopping for more pup stuff and he came back too excited to do anything, but spending more time in the nursery.

Harry chose the spare room that’s nestled at the end of the hallway as a nursery, simply because it has the biggest window other than the master bedroom and it connects to a smaller room that can be transformed into a playroom when their pup starts toddling around.

Twisting the door knob discreetly, Louis peeks his head inside the nursery. The amber of evening sun coming from the huge window bathes the room in golden glow, making the view look like it’s picked straight out of a fairytale book – magical and picturesque. A soft piano instrumental plays in a loop from the white noise machine that Harry bought last week.

A fond smile is inevitable on Louis’ lips, seeing Harry sprawled on the floorboard with all kinds of pup stuff strewn around him. There are colourful bibs and swaddles in one heap, more onesies and one-piece pyjamas in another, three different brands of diapers at one side and bathing essentials in another.

“I see someone is too occupied to check his phone,” Louis mumbles in lieu of a greeting.

Harry whips his head to the sound of Louis’ voice, surprised, but his dimples popped at seeing his alpha. “I left it in my handbag, I think.”

“Are you ready for our dinner, then?” Louis asks, stepping into the nursery and expertly avoids the carefully rolled up swaddles on Harry’s side to sit across from him.

Harry narrows his eyes, tilting his head, before something clicks in his mind, and his eyes widen almost comically, and he lets out a loud gasp. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath. “Shit. Is it at Allegra? I was the one who wanted to eat there, right?”

Louis chuckles, nodding. Harry said he craved the restaurant’s signature barbecued quail two days ago, and being the gentleman he is, Louis immediately asked his secretary to book a table for them.

“What time do we have to leave?” Harry mumbles, pursing his lips for a kiss, and Louis obliges.

Tapping on his phone screen, Louis answers, “In the next thirty minutes.”

Harry frantically flicks his eyes to the mess surrounding him. “But - I still have so many things to do.”

“We can cancel, babe.”

“Oh,” Harry breathes almost like he just realises that cancellation is an option. Pouting his pink lips, he whines softly, “But I’m really craving for that quail.”

Louis huffs out a laugh, tucking a stray curl falling from Harry’s bun behind his ear. “We should go then. How are you today? Is pup giving you any trouble?”

Harry rubs a hand on his bump, bare, because he’s only wearing a mint crop top. Louis can’t blame him for keeping on wearing such skimpy clothes because he does look beautiful carrying that basketball-shaped belly, perfectly round and pronounced. “Judging by how I accidentally forgot our date tonight, I would say it’s because of the pup.”

“The hormones, or because you were too excited shopping pup stuff?” Louis teases, spreading his palm flat on Harry’s bump. It feels slightly harder to the touch, and he bends down, pressing a kiss on it.

Harry swats at Louis’ bicep, whining, “Lou… the hormones, of course. Oh!”

Louis straightens up, panic rises in his chest at Harry’s shocked tone. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Harry winces, shaking his head as he distances himself from Louis, trying to stand up. “I think it’s that time of my pregnancy. That time where the pup is growing and pressing on my bladder, and I can’t sit still for more than twenty minutes before I feel like I need to pee.”

Louis stands up in a split second, offering his hand while Harry tries to manoeuvre his position. Harry narrows his eyes at him, utterly unimpressed, but he accepts the offer, grabbing Louis’ hand, and Louis helps to pull him to his feet.

“I can stand,” Harry insists stubbornly even as he clings to Louis’ arm.

“I know you can, baby. You have been standing and running errands alone all day. I’m just here to help.”

Harry’s answer is a loud harrumph, and he looks like a disgruntled kitten with his lips pursed and brows pinched. He’s so endearing that Louis has to turn and plants a kiss on his cute nose.

✩

The sound of Matt and Krystle bickering at the end of the meeting room does nothing to distract Louis from typing his email. Their meeting had wrapped up approximately fifteen minutes ago, and most of the people involved had already left for their next meeting, except Krystle and Matt.

“Please do continue,” Louis comments sardonically when Krystle’s voice rises an octave, never one to back down from her decision. “I will be in my office if you two need anything,” he continues, pushing the swivelling chair at the head of the table before leaving the meeting room.

Louis punches the button to call for the elevator, nodding his head at the passing staff who smiles at him. It doesn’t take long for the elevator to arrive and soon, Louis is walking to his office, stopping short at the sight of Harry talking to Oli in his.

Harry is wearing a light pink maternity dress that reaches to his knees. It features a V-neckline that somehow ends in a bow across his chest, which only serves to make his blooming chest more pronounced. The short ruffled sleeves give him the appearance of a posh, sweet expectant omega.

Although when Harry turns his head, there’s that mischievous glint in his green eyes, and Louis knows better than to get fooled by Harry’s flowy, innocent looking dress.

Slipping his hand into his dress pants, Louis arches his eyebrows, wordlessly inviting Harry to his office. It doesn’t get old seeing Harry get all flustered, immediately excusing himself by waving his hand to Oli.

Oli only shakes his head, easily dismissing Harry when he sees Louis standing outside of his office. He says something to Harry, which makes the omega’s smile grow even wider.

“Oli said you don’t have any meetings after this,” Harry informs as he pushes the glass door open, sounding a little breathless.

Louis offers his hand, and Harry grabs it. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. It’s just - you know, your pup is getting heavy everyday,” Harry mumbles, taking a deep breath as he rubs his swollen belly.

Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s lips before guiding Harry into his office through their linked hands. “You should be resting at home.” His lips feel sticky, probably from Harry’s gloss and he wipes it away with his thumb.

Harry heads right away to the couch and pulls something from his handbag while Louis places his laptop on his desk. “I have something to show you,” Harry says, patting the empty space beside him, enthusiasm colouring his voice and scent. He doesn’t even deign Louis’ advice with a response.

Louis shakes his head. He knows better than to urge Harry to stay at home. He is stubborn, and the last thing Louis needs is to pick a fight with his pregnant mate. Siddling close to Harry, Louis flicks his gaze down to Harry’s feet, thankful that it seems that Harry’s feet aren’t swollen. Harry hasn’t entered that swollen feet phase yet, but with the amount of walking he does everyday, it’s just a matter of time.

“I got this for the nursery paint. What do you think? Do you have any preferences?” Harry asks, showing Louis the paint swatches card in hand. It has at least two hundred shades, all categorised based on their tone - whites, creams, neutrals, pinks and so forth.

Louis had no idea that Harry was planning to repaint the nursery. Given, it’s a starkly white room currently, and maybe it’s lacking a certain vibe to it. So Louis indulges Harry, murmuring, “Pinks?”

Harry huffs indignantly, deep furrow formed between his eyebrows like Louis has personally offended him. “Pinks? What if our pup is a boy? Should we repaint our nursery?”

“Or maybe we should wait for the next antenatal appointment to find out the sex, and then we can make up our mind after that,” Louis explains. At Harry’s pinched expression, Louis tries to reason, “It’s just two weeks, baby.”

“Or…” Harry drawls out, smiling in a way that Louis knows that means he has found a loop hole around it. “We just paint it in neutral colours. Greens, or creams?”

Louis snorts. “You have already made up your mind, right?”

Harry doesn’t look a bit guilty as he quips, “So what if I did?” Turning to the page that’s labelled with greens, he points to a sage colour. “I like this one.”

“Okay.”

Pointing to another colour in several lines beneath it which is labelled as ‘trailing plant’, Harry divulges, “But I like this one too. So, you have to help me decide. Which one do you like better?”

Louis squints his eyes at the colour swatches, and Harry cheekily points both colours he likes with his index fingers to help. It does not, because for the life of him, Louis can’t spot any difference between the two shades. “Baby, you are the love of my life and the mother of my pup, but it’s literally the same colour.”

Harry inhales sharply, clasping a hand to his chest. An expression of pure betrayal marring his radiant face. He’s honestly too dramatic – it’s only paint swatches, but that’s exactly why Louis loves him. The way he takes his passion and interest so seriously, even if it drives Louis mad sometimes.

“It’s not the same,” Harry counters softly, flicking his eyes to the card with his bottom lip protruded. “This one is a bit darker, and this one is lighter. The staff at the shop said that this one has white undertones which is good for a room that has less natural lighting. Like it’s good to make the room look less crowded and stuff. But don’t you think our nursery already has plenty of natural lighting?” Taking a pregnant pause, Harry’s forehead puckers before he tacks on uncertainly, “Or is that not considered enough?”

Louis rubs his thumb in a soothing circle on Harry’s bump. “What if – you order the samples and we can try to paint the room this weekend?”

Harry’s green eyes scintillate as he bites down his bottom lip like he’s trying to contain how big he’s smiling. Louis tugs the bottom lip free, and Harry is giving him the full on dimpled-grin with bright eyes as if Louis offered to hang the sun and the moon in their pup’s nursery.

“You are the kind of alpha I never knew I needed,” Harry professes, sighing blissfully as he tosses the swatches card on the coffee table. Enough discussion about paint swatches, it seems.

Louis snorts. “I hope so.”

Tilting his head to Louis, Harry gives him an appraising look, stopping a second too long at Louis’ crotch for it to not be noticeable. “Oli said you don’t have any meeting after this,” Harry lilts out, a phantom of a smile playing on his pink lips.

“You have said that already.”

The smile turns into a smirk, and Harry looks like he’s ready to pounce on Louis. “Oh, I know. I’m just reminding you so you won’t say no when I do this,” he says, straddling Louis’ lap before he can protest.

Louis’ hands immediately go to Harry’s waist, holding him upright. “H, give me a warning would you? You are -”

“Eighteen weeks pregnant, I know,” Harry quips, placing his hands on Louis’ shoulders. Rising on his knees, he demands, “Take off your pants.”

Louis’ hold on Harry’s waist tightens, worry gnawing at his heart. The last time they did something like this with Harry’s tummy bulging between them, it was on their plush, bouncy, perfectly safe bed. “Baby, I can’t -”

Harry huffs an exasperated breath. “I’m not that heavy,” he presses. “I do yoga alone so I can stay in this position for five seconds, I think.”

Louis’ hands are still glued to Harry’s waist. “Oh, you know what - you can continue to hold me. I will take off your pants for you.”

“What?” Louis asks, confused. Harry’s action and mind are a restless whirlwind, and Louis barely keeps up.

Harry’s smile is saccharine sweet as he sits back on Louis’ lap. Bending down, he presses a kiss on Louis’ lips, opening his mouth right away, ready for Louis’ tongue to fuck into. Harry moans into the kiss, his tongue pliant and warm, tasting like apple juice. In the heat of their intense kiss, Harry slips a hand between them and his nimble fingers quickly undo the belt, pulling the fly of Louis’ dress pants open.

“Fuck,” Louis groans into the kiss, bucking his hips into Harry’s hand when his omega’s manicured fingers wrap tightly around his hard member.

Harry hums before pulling back, breaking the kiss, much to Louis’ chagrin. Dark dilated pupils taking the place of previously glimmering green irises and the image of posh, sweet expectant omega is now replaced by a debauched look, especially with a thin spit at the corner of Harry’s mouth. His pink lips glistening lewdly, certainly not with gloss, and the sight of his perfect, pregnant omega on his lap makes Louis’ cock twitch.

Harry’s smirk is smug, knowing exactly what pulls that kind of reaction from Louis’ alpha cock. Pressing a soft kiss on the corner of Louis’ mouth, Harry trails open-mouthed kisses down to the hinge of Louis’ jaw, ears and neck as he works his hand, stroking Louis’ hard cock expertly.

“Fuck,” Louis grunts, tossing his head back to lean on the backrest of the couch as he’s being devoured by his omega. At a particularly strong squeeze at the base of his rapidly swelling knot, Louis grumbles, “Baby, take my pants off.”

Harry clicks his tongue, nipping Louis’ neck not so gently. “I gave you a choice,” he murmurs.

Louis grunts. Of course. Of course Harry will decide to tease him because he didn’t follow precisely what Harry wanted just now. “You are a menace,” is what comes out of Louis’ mouth next. He can feel the curl of Harry’s lip on his skin.

“We have established that, alpha,” Harry replies, his tone honeyed, even though his teasing is anything but. He presses his thumb on Louis’ cock head, using the precome accumulated there to ease the glide of his hand.

A knock on the office’s frosted glass door startles Louis, and his head snaps up, letting out a growl on instinct as his alpha’s hackles rise.

“Sshhh,” Harry soothes, cradling Louis’ scruffy jaw and pressing a kiss there. He lets out his sweet pheromones to calm Louis down. “I locked the door. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Another rap on the door comes, more impatiently this time, and Harry calls out, leaning forward in Louis’ lap, “Who’s there? Louis is unavailable, sorry!”

“Krystle. Oh, is that Harry? Oh God, sorry!” She squeaks, most likely understanding what’s happening behind the door. “Oli isn’t at his table, but Louis said I can come by anytime. So sorry to disturb you two. Have fun!” And with that, she walks away, the dark shadow behind the frosted glass door disappearing.

The position makes Harry’s ample chest sit right in front of his face, and Louis is nothing but a weak man when it comes to his omega. He will think about how Krystle almost walked in on them with Harry’s hand on his cock tomorrow. Or the fact that he will need the couch to be professionally cleaned.

Flicking his tongue across his lips, Louis leans his head forward, burying his face right on Harry’s cleavage. Harry’s skin smells like honey and vanilla, naturally sweet like the rest of him.

“Oh,” Harry breathes in surprise, gasping softly as Louis rubs his scruff on Harry’s chest. With one swift motion, Harry tugs the tie, undoing the bow and his full, plump tits spill out of his dress obscenely. The way he plants his knees on either side of Louis’ thighs makes his heavy tits hang, and Louis cups one side, playing with the hardened nub with his thumb.

The hand on Louis’ cock falters, and Harry arches his back as if trying to push his tit into Louis’ mouth. Louis presses sloppy kisses all over Harry’s chest, leaving wet trails of saliva in its wake. Cradling Harry’s tit, he moves his hand, making the soft flesh jiggle before finally wrapping his mouth around the nipple. Harry pinches his eyes shut from the sensation, letting out a relieved sigh as his fingers grasp onto Louis’ hair.

Harry exhales a shaky breath, his thighs quivering slightly which makes Louis tightens his hold on Harry’s waist. “Fuck, you are not playing fair,” Harry whimpers, squeezing Louis’ cock one last time before he takes out his hand. He tugs on Louis’ pants impatiently, and Louis rises his hips, helping the omega to pull his pants and briefs down his bum.

Using one hand to brace himself on Louis’ shoulder, Harry rises on his knees, pulling his lace knickers through one hole and then another, tossing it haphazardly on the couch beside them. It’s far from sexy or gracious with his pink dress disrupting most of the view, but the sight of Harry’s flushed face and the way he pants heavily, hands frantic to shed any clothing barrier between them, eager to get Louis’ cock in him is enough to make Louis lets out a low chuffed rumble.

Harry grinds on Louis’ lap, smearing his slick everywhere on Louis’ crotch and hips. A gush of slick on Louis’ thigh makes Harry chirp gleefully, intentionally scent marking his alpha. Satisfied with marking what’s his, Harry reaches between them to line Louis’ cock with his hole. With no preamble, Harry slides down easily, burying Louis’ cock to the hilt inside him.

“Nngghh - that’s so good,” Harry whimpers, his eyes flutter close as he finds his rhythm. Undulating his hips slowly to stretch himself on Louis’ cock.

Louis slides down his hand on Harry’s waist to his bum, slipping his hand underneath the dress to knead at Harry’s arse cheeks. Harry moans, throwing his head back at the pain and pleasure colouring his senses. He hastens his pace, and the sound of skin slapping skin reverberates through the wall.

“Alpha, please - nnggh, fuck. It’s so - good. I’m so full,” Harry babbles, his pleas desperate and his thighs around Louis tremble.

Louis knows exactly what it means. Despite how much Harry boasts about his hour long yoga session in the morning, his stamina isn’t like what it used to be. Carrying the pup means moving with an additional weight on him and the way his tummy bulges isn’t exactly the most comfortable situation to exert himself in.

Harry cries out, frustrated, as his thighs slow their pace.

“I know, baby. I know,” Louis soothes. “Put your legs up. I will take care of you,” he rasps, holding on to Harry as the omega switches his position. Harry props his legs up, planting his feet on the couch and resting his hands on Louis’ shoulder.

Using his hold on Harry’s arse, Louis moves Harry up and down his cock, snapping his hips up at the same time. Harry’s breath is hot and heavy at his ear, mouth gaped open to softly chant alpha alpha alpha.

Louis’ own breath is heavy, and he groans every time he can feel his cock poking Harry’s swollen prostate. There’s something about Harry being pregnant that makes him grip so hard on Louis’ cock. Harry is always so tight, but this time it’s even better.

Louis spreads his legs to make it easier for him to thrust up into Harry, and Harry mewls when it forces him to do the same. The position makes the penetration deeper, and Harry’s breathing turns shallow and shaky, his fingers clutching tight on Louis’ shoulder.

“I’m gonna - come, alpha. Please - knot me. Please please,” Harry begs nonsensically, lost in pleasure as his body is being moved like a rag doll, bouncing up and down Louis’ lap.

Louis is heady with pleasure. His dress shirt is sticky with sweat against his chest, and the clad of his jacket is tightly uncomfortable.

“Touch your tits for me, babe,” Louis grumbles, eyes hungrily roving over the expanse of Harry’s full and heavy chest.

Harry fondles his tit with one hand, moaning as he plays with his pebbled nipple. “It’s so sensitive,” he whines, biting his bottom lip.

“Other side too, baby,” Louis instructs, and Harry obliges, paying the same attention to the other nipple.

Louis snaps his hips up faster when he feels the familiar heat swirling in his stomach, punching breathless gasp from Harry. Louis is close, the swell of his knot pulsates, and he impales Harry down on his cock, popping his knot with a guttural groan torn from inside of his chest. Harry comes untouched, clenching tight around the knot inside him, making them both moan.

Harry sags against Louis’ body, settling his whole weight on Louis’ lap and nuzzling his face into Louis’ neck.

Louis slips his hand underneath Harry’s dress, caressing the side of the bump with his knuckles. The motion is soothing enough to make Harry purr. Glancing at the paint swatches card on the coffee table, Louis prompts, “Are you sure you don’t want to hire an interior designer for the nursery?”

Harry shakes his head. “Want to do it myself,” he murmurs even if his sentence is mostly muffled against Louis’ skin.

It’s not the first time Louis offered, he’s more than happy to pay someone to take the burden off his omega. But preparing the nursery for their pup clearly means a lot for Harry and his omega instincts and so he lets Harry decide.

✩

For all the lavish and detailed preparation that Harry made or indulged himself during pregnancy, it’s surprising that he doesn’t want a gender reveal party.

“Are you sure?” Louis asks one night when they are talking about their plans for the weekend — a twenty week appointment where they will find out their pup gender at nine in the morning, and a high-tea party that is hosted by one of Louis’ clients at five in the evening.

Harry hums distractedly as he scrolls on his iPad. He’s getting anxious that he still can’t make his mind on which type of cot he wants for the nursery, and it’s been on his mind for the past few days. “Should we order one?” He mumbles, not looking up from the brightly lit screen.

Louis’ forehead creases in confusion, asking, “What?” They haven’t finished discussing the non-existence of their pup’s gender reveal party yet.

“The cot,” Harry answers pointedly, finally looking up from the iPad on his lap with a deep crease etched in his forehead. “Should we order a bespoke cot?”

“Depends on how long their manufacturing time is, I guess?”

“Right,” Harry mumbles, glancing down at the screen once again. He flips the screen to Louis, pointing at an off-white cot with added silver colour edging, featuring a personalised initial. Gnawing on his bottom lip worriedly, he mumbles, “Or do you think it’s too much?”

Louis smiles softly, patting Harry’s bare thigh that his skimpy satin shorts doesn’t cover. It’s crazy that Harry’s skin is even more soft compared to when he isn’t pregnant. “Baby, nothing is too much when it comes to your or our pup,” Louis assures gently.

“I have been waiting for so long for this pregnancy,” Harry murmurs dreamily, rubbing his round belly. Tucking his head to his chest, he whispers to their unborn pup, “You do deserve the best, my love, and I will make sure you get the best one.”

It’s an adorable sight — Harry talking to his swollen belly, which is something he has recently started doing because of a podcast he listened on his way to the supermarket; the importance of talking to the pup in the womb.

“So you have decided on the bespoke cot?”

Harry nods, clicking off his iPad and placing it on his bedside table. “I will call them tomorrow. I want something that matches the paint,” he divulges with a small satisfied quirk to his lip. Harry finally decided on the colour after Louis painted a small area of the nursery in the two colours Harry loved. As much as Harry hoped for Louis to paint the whole nursery on his own, he wasn’t a professional by any means so he arranged for a house painter to come and do the rest of the painting complete with a primer colour.

“So can we focus on my discussion now?” Louis asks, arching an eyebrow.

Harry protrudes his bottom lip in a pout. “What? About the gender reveal party? I don’t want it,” he easily dismisses.

Louis has to bend down to kiss Harry’s pout away because he can’t stand looking at how endearing his pregnant omega looks while sulking. “Are you sure?”

“I just want you in the room with me when the doctor breaks the news. You are the only one that matters.”

Hearing that, Louis has no other choice than to pepper his omega with kisses until Harry bats his face away because he needs to use the ensuite. He comes back waddling adorably, ignoring Louis’ proffered hand to help him to climb into bed.

“Do you have a preference?” Harry asks when he finally settles back on his side of the bed. “Boy or girl?”

Louis shakes his head easily. It’s not something he ever spared a thought for. He has both sisters and a brother, and he loves them all dearly. Not like there’s any much difference between a girl and a boy, at least not until they present their secondary gender at age sixteen. In Louis’ opinion, that is where the real changes happen. “No. But for your sake and the countless skirts and dresses you bought, I hope they are a girl,” he teases.

Harry rolls his eyes, grumbling under his breath, “We can always donate them,” he defends, taking the body butter jar he stores in the drawer of his bedside table and handing it to Louis. Puffing up his pillow against the headboard, Harry pulls up his satin camisole, wordlessly asking for his nightly belly rub.

✩

They are having a girl.

Harry is obviously over the moon, most likely because Doctor Beatrice tells him this is the week where he will start feeling the flutter in his belly, the sign of the pup moving. He purses his lips for a kiss from Louis whenever the doctor’s eyes are not on them, dimpling for the rest of the appointment and walking out of the office with a noticeable pep in his steps.

He tells Louis about enrolling them both to an antenatal class. A class that he found specifically for the first time expectant male omegas and their partners. As much as Louis doubts there’s anything else he can learn from antenatal class, more than the practical experience he already has under the belt from helping his mother raising five younger siblings, he doesn’t have a heart to say no when Harry blinks his bright green eyes, speckled with gold because of the exceptionally good weather today.

“I love you,” Harry says on their way to the bespoke cot shop that Harry has made an appointment with, smiling wide. He reaches over the console to lace their fingers together.

Louis squeezes their hands, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss on the back of Harry’s hand. “I love you too, baby.”

It takes almost two hours driving to the cot shop in which Harry fell asleep for most of the journey. Not like Louis can blame him, being pregnant is endlessly tiring, and Harry is at that stage where he can only sleep comfortably on his side. The fitted maternity dress he’s wearing is taut over his round belly, and Harry sleeps with his hands cradling it.

“Baby, we are here,” Louis says softly, flicking his eyes to the posh, white storefront. Luckily, he got the closest parking to the store so Harry won’t have to walk too far.

Harry stirs when Louis kisses his lips, and he blinks his eyes open when Louis’ hands go to unbuckle the seatbelt from restricting his tummy.

“It’s very uncomfortable,” Harry murmurs, pouting a bit as he rubs his belly like the seatbelt has hurt him. Scooting forward in the passenger seat, he narrows his eyes through the windshield, gasping at the storefront. “Oh, that’s pretty, isn’t it?”

Louis glances out. There’s no way the store could be mistaken as anything but a bespoke furniture shop with its rows of luxurious round cots in multiple finishes – gold, silver, gloss, matte, metallic – each of them complete with matching sheer canopy displayed through the humongous display mirror.

“Let’s get the one you love then,” Louis says, shutting the car engine off. Before Louis can open the passenger door for his omega, Harry scrambles out of the car by himself, heaving slightly by the time he slips his hand into Louis’ waiting palm.

The staff that Harry called several days ago is the one who attends to them today, and the elderly brunette omega coos at the first sight of Harry and his protruding belly, immediately offering Harry to sit down and promising to bring Harry anything he will ever need.

She comes back with at least a dozen catalogues tucked under both of her arms, smiling from ear to ear as she takes the seat across from them. From there, it’s all Harry making the call, turning to Louis for his opinion once in a while when Harry can’t choose between two of his favourites.

A couple of hours later, Louis tucks his black card back into his wallet while Harry rechecks the production time and signs the purchase agreement, marking the approximate delivery date in his phone calendar.

They just bought a bespoke oak cot. It will be painted off-white to match with the dresser Harry bought from Harrods with additional sage colour edging to match with the wall paint. Despite not having a name in mind yet, Harry requested the personalised initial to be done in the same sage colour at the headboard and footboard of the cot. According to their sales assistant, the calligraphy will be done last so Harry and Louis have about ten weeks to decide on their pup’s name.

They make it back to London just in time for the high-tea party hosted in West Hampstead, and in an unexpected turn of events, Harry is still full of energy as he makes his way around the room, smiling to everyone he knows and shaking hands with those he doesn’t, rubbing his belly at every chance he gets. He avoids all kinds of tea offered on the table, murmuring to the server for a natural, sugar free apple juice.

“How are you feeling?” Louis asks, wrapping his hand around Harry’s curvy hips when Harry excuses himself from the group of people he’s talking to.

“Amazing,” Harry answers, pursing his lips for a kiss. Pulling back, he turns his head to the direction of the buffet table with a little furrow in between his eyebrows, “I think I saw someone bringing cream puffs on their plate.”

Louis smiles. “Do you want me to get it for you?”

Harry dimples, nodding. “Yes, please. Oh! Some scones too, please? And extra clotted creams. I love it. I don’t know what kind of cream they used here, but it’s so good.”

That’s the way the rest of their high-tea goes, Louis checking in every so often on his omega, while Harry requests every new food he sees served on the buffet table with a repeat of his favourites.

✩

On a Thursday noon after the department meeting wraps up, Louis is pleasantly surprised to see his sister waiting in his office, neon pink manicured fingers tapping away on her phone.

Pushing the door open, Louis says in lieu of a greeting, “I see you are making yourself at home.”

Lottie rolls her eyes, opening her arms for Louis to come and kiss her cheeks. “It’s so good to see you, Lottie. My lovely younger sister,” she mocks good naturedly, sticking her tongue out when Louis shakes his head.

Taking his seat behind the desk, Louis switches on his laptop. “Where’s Lucky?” He asks, Harry hasn’t mentioned anything about Lottie and her family coming up to London today. Although considering how busy Harry is nowadays, plus the hormones making him forget certain things, it probably just slipped out of his mind.

“With Lewis,” Lottie answers easily. She leans forward in her chair, steepling her fingers on the desk and the eager expression on her face makes Louis halt.

“Yes?” Louis prompts cautiously. He has seen that face too many times to not be suspicious.

“I want to volunteer myself to throw a baby shower for Harry,” Lottie declares proudly, sitting straight in her seat.

Louis pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, cursing under his breath, “Fuck. I totally forgot about it.” Louis was keen on a gender reveal party because he thought Harry would love one, and when Harry said no, Louis forgot about the next big thing. He can say with full certainty that Harry won’t forgive him if he doesn’t have a baby shower. “Are you sure you want to do it?”

Lottie nods reverently. “Yup,” she agrees, popping the p. “I have done research on several venues around London, and I will need your opinion on which one you think Harry will like best. Also, it’s probably best if we can draft the guest list first so it will be easier to determine the actual space we need. I’m thinking about doing it once Harry reaches twenty-nine weeks.”

Louis chews on his inner cheek for a second before he clicks on his laptop, checking his schedule. He doesn’t have any meetings planned for the rest of the day, and his sister has come up to London anyway.

“Let me know your final expense, I will cover them,” Louis says, shutting down his laptop. He glances at Lottie to gauge her reaction because she has never accepted his money in any way. For her, it has always been either a tangible gift or nothing at all.

Lottie scoffs, waving her hand in the air, easily dismissing the offer. “I can afford to throw my brother a baby shower, thanks.”

It doesn’t escape Louis’ attention that Lottie calls Harry her brother, and the corner of his lips quirk up. Harry fits like a glove into Louis’ family, even from the first meeting, and they just grow closer over the years. Standing up, Louis shrugs a shoulder. “I’m just offering.”

“Where are you going?” Lottie asks, puzzled. “You haven’t decided on anything.”

“I thought you wanted my help for the baby shower? Let’s go somewhere that serves us food, shall we?” The best way to let Lottie know how much Louis appreciates her is with good food, and he is proven right when Lottie gasps loudly and on her feet instantly, slinging her handbag to her shoulder.

“I love you, you know that, right?” Lottie professes, trailing close behind Louis as they walk to the elevator.

Coming back to their house, Louis takes his shoes off, picking them up and storing them in the cupboard. He rolls his eyes at Lottie’s snicker before instructing her to do the same.

Flicking his eyes to the clock mounted on the entryway wall, Louis calls out, “Baby. I’m home.” Harry has a penchant to be anywhere at half past four in the evening, whether watching telly in the living room or reading the latest pregnancy book he bought in the den.

“I’m in the kitchen,” Harry yells, and Louis walks to the kitchen with Lottie in tow.

Harry is standing at the kitchen counter, wearing a white flowy maternity dress that only reaches his upper thighs. His shapely brows pinched, full attention on mixing what looks like a huge bowl of salad that he doesn’t even look up to Louis who just stepped into the kitchen.

“Baby, look who I came home with,” Louis says, loosening his tie with one hand. Lottie is spending the weekend in London with Lucky and Lewis coming in after work tomorrow.

Harry snaps his head up. His eyes widen and his mouth gapes open before he lets out an ear piercing shriek. “Lots! You didn’t tell me you were coming! What are you doing here? Where’s Lucky and Lewis?”

Lottie turns to Louis, arching an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell him? Or shall I?” She asks with a teasing smile playing on her bright red lips.

“What?” Harry prompts impatiently. “Lou?”

Closing the gap between them, Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s expanding waistline from the side, pressing a kiss on Harry’s cheek. “She’s here to plan your baby shower.”

Harry is quiet for a moment before he opens his mouth, disbelief marring his question, “You are?”

Lottie nods. “Yes, and you don’t have to worry about anything. Let me do it for you. I have Louis’ input for everything.”

It doesn’t take more than that before Harry is crying in the middle of the kitchen, hiccuping loudly that Lottie scrambles for a tissue.

Louis turns Harry to him, hugging his omega the best way he can with Harry’s round belly in between them. He gratefully accepts the tissue Lottie pressed into his palm, passing it to Harry. Harry sniffles, dabbing his eyes and face with the tissue while Louis coos and rubs his back, letting out a whiff of his soothing pheromones.

“I’m sorry. It’s just – I’m very – emotional,” Harry stutters in between a laugh and a sniffle.

“It’s okay, baby. We have seen Lottie going through exactly this,” Louis jokes, pulling a wet chuckle from Harry. If Louis hadn’t been surrounded by pregnant omegas all his life, he would be more alarmed. But he has seen Lottie crying over a dozen flavoured doughnuts that he brought her from London while pregnant, and Krystle crying over a caramel drizzle in her decaf frappuccino.

Thankfully, the tears don’t last long, and before Louis knows it, both Harry and Lottie are bonding over the nursery. They have their takeaway dinner in the living room while watching Beef on Netflix because Harry chooses it, and neither Louis nor Lottie can say no to him. Louis excuses himself shortly after dinner for a shower, kissing the top of Harry’s head as his omega is distracted talking to Lottie about bassinet and a couple choices of a rocking chair.

The master bedroom door opens precisely at half past eleven while Louis is watching the second episode of Mind Hunter, and Harry steps into the room with a smile on his face.

“Oh, I thought you must be sleeping by now,” Harry says, nearing the bed and bending down to kiss Louis’ lips.

Harry tastes like strawberries, sweet and ripened, and Louis cradles his face for another kiss. Harry smiles into the kiss, giggling when Louis pulls him for another. “Lou… I need to shower.”

Louis groans, thumbing Harry’s spit slick lips. “Fine, go shower.” He lets go of Harry’s face reluctantly, sneaking the opportunity to swat Harry’s round bum before the omega waddles to the ensuite.

Harry huffs out a laugh, glancing over his shoulder. “Wait for me? You haven’t rubbed my belly yet.”

“Of course, baby,” Louis answers easily. He extends a hand to Harry’s bedside table, reaching the body butter jar and setting it on his side instead.

Harry comes out of the ensuite looking like a daydream. He’s wearing his white Gucci satin robe, personalised with his name embellished in pink glitter at the back (a gift from Louis for his birthday when they were dating), his luscious chocolate curls cascading down his shoulders and his face is slightly flushed from the hot shower he just had.

The loose tie he had around his waist shows his round belly and his blooming chest, and he ambles across the room so casually like he doesn’t cause Louis’ cock to twitch with every miniscule movement.

“Lou…” Harry calls softly, climbing into bed once he has done with his skincare routine. “You have been staring since I stepped out of the shower.”

“You are so pretty, baby,” Louis praises sincerely. He may be biassed, but he’s certain that nobody goes through pregnancy and looks as gorgeous as Harry is.

Harry dimples, a beautiful shade of rose raises on both cheeks as he pulls the quilt to cover his thighs. “Thank you, but you are not getting out of my belly rub,” he warns with a reproving shake of his head.

Louis groans dramatically. “That was one time, babe. One time I was so tired that I fell asleep before I could rub your belly.” In his defence, Louis made a day trip to Paris for an important meeting because he didn’t want to leave his pregnant omega alone overnight. He was dead on his feet by the time he made it back to London that he fell asleep by eight, still in his work clothes.

“I know, but doesn’t mean I will forget it,” Harry quips, pulling the loose tie around his waist. He tucks the robe lapels carefully around his torso to avoid getting body butter on it. Glancing at the paused screen, he asks, “What are you watching?”

Louis grabs the body butter jar and remote control from his bedside table. “Mind Hunter. It’s kind of gory, don’t think you should watch.”

Harry gasps, mock affronted even as he takes the proffered remote. “Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I can’t watch it,” he counters stubbornly. He can be quite difficult when he wants to.

“You can watch it, but I just don’t think you should,” Louis corrects, knowing he has won when Harry starts filtering through the movie choices with a heaved sigh – a much lighter genre than the one Louis has been watching.

Harry glares at him. “Get going,” he demands with an arch of his eyebrow, pursing his lips to his big belly.

Louis snorts, bending down to press a kiss on Harry’s lips before doing the same to his tummy. Unscrewing the lid, Louis scoops a dollop of the body butter, rubbing it between his palm to melt it before applying it to Harry’s belly.

A movie starts, and the familiar intro makes Louis asks, “What are you watching?”

“The Longest Ride,” Harry chirps, letting out a soft sigh at the scene where Scott Eastwood is getting ready to ride the bull.

It’s not the first time Harry watches the movie, but the reaction is still the same. Louis gets comfortable in his position, glancing at the telly once in a while as he gently massages the body butter into Harry’s skin using firm, broad strokes until the white cream is fully absorbed.

“Lou…” Harry calls after several minutes into the movie.

Louis hums, scrutinising his work on Harry’s belly. Every inch of Harry’s swollen belly is moisturised with body butter, slightly glistening under the bright light of the master bedroom. “Anywhere else, baby? Your feet?”

Harry shakes his head. “My feet are still normal, thanks.” He opens his hand, and Louis instinctively slips his fingers into it, squeezing gently.

Harry lifts their linked hands to his belly. “Thank you for arranging my baby shower,” he murmurs, smiling dopily.

“It’s not me. It’s Lottie, baby,” Louis acknowledges. He didn’t do anything much beyond deciding what colour, theme and venue Harry would like best. The rest of the planning is being done by Lottie.

“I know, but she is your sister. I wouldn’t have her in my life if I didn’t know you. Can’t you see every good thing in my life is because of you?” The last of Harry’s sentences is whispered, and Louis changes his position. He leans on the headboard, pulling Harry into his arms.

Louis stays still for a moment, waiting for any telltale of incoming tears, but there isn’t any beyond a small, pitiful sniffle. “You,” he says sternly to Harry’s belly, “Stop making your mummy so emotional. He needs his rest now.”

Harry chuckles wetly. “You should go to sleep. It’s late.” He turns and kisses Louis’ lips, soft and delicate. “I love you so much. Thank you for today. And everyday.”

“I love you too, baby.” Laying on his side of the bed, Louis cuddles close to Harry. It’s impossible to wrap his arms comfortably around Harry now, so he watches the movie while caressing Harry’s tummy until he falls asleep.

✩

It feels just like yesterday Lottie was patiently waiting in Louis’ office to talk about the baby shower. Apparently, in reality, it was six weeks ago when Harry was still in his second trimester. He’s twenty nine weeks now, and in his own words, this trimester makes everything feel much heavier than it really is. Louis can feel the pup kicking from outside, and Harry has trouble sleeping some nights when their pup decides to headbutt his tummy. Not to mention, the constant pressing on his bladder that makes him go to the ensuite to relieve himself at least four times a night.

Still, in Louis’ biassed opinion, Harry in his seventh month of pregnancy has to be the prettiest version of him. He doesn’t bother with only wearing tight fitting clothes because it’s impossible to hide his baby belly. He wears the oversized ratty band t-shirt he thrifted when he was teenager and the shirt is taut over his belly. He wears his favourite flowy blouse from when he wasn’t pregnant, and the sales assistant cooed over how far along he is. He even wears a little black dress to an event Louis is invited to, and it still isn’t enough to cover how big his belly is.

So it’s only natural that when Harry texts Louis and asks him to pick up his baby shower dress from Harrods, Louis automatically says yes even if it means running late to his lunch meeting. It’s always anything for his omega, but even more when his omega is pregnant.

“Thank you. You are my saviour. I was too tired to go out today,” Harry mumbles, unzipping the garment bag and slipping his hand inside. He runs his fingers through the hem of the dress, humming in content when the threading is up to his par. “It’s supposed to fit, but the pup is getting bigger so I asked them to alter the sides a bit.”

“You are not going to try it?” Louis asks as he takes off his suit jacket and starts working on undoing his cufflinks.

“Tomorrow,” Harry answers flippantly, zipping up the garment bag once again. He’s about to store it in his side of the wardrobe when he whips his head to Louis, eyes comically wide as he whispers, “Or do you want to see me in it?”

Louis lets out a small laugh. “I’d love to, baby.” It never gets tiring seeing how excited Harry is over everything pup related, be it a maternity dress, a bib or a bottle. He loves them all.

“Okay. Go wait in the room.” Harry shoos Louis away with a wave of his freshly manicured fingers. Light pink matching with the theme of his baby shower.

Louis leaves with a kiss to Harry’s lips and a pinch to his bum. Taking a seat on the couch at the foot of their bed, Louis pulls out his phone, catching up on any footie news. After fifteen minutes of waiting, he can’t help but pipe out, “Baby, are you okay? Do you need help with the zip or something?”

Harry doesn’t reply, and Louis stands, ready to go to Harry, worry tugging at his heart. He doesn’t get far when Harry comes out clad in a light pink, off shoulder dress. It has a form-fitting silhouette that envelops Harry’s baby belly perfectly, and the sweetheart neckline accentuates Harry’s full tits. He looks utterly breathtaking.

“Baby,” Louis breathes in awe, powerless to say anything else. He opens his arm and Harry walks straight to him, both dimples deep in his cheeks.

“Do you like it?” Harry whispers, peering to Louis through his eyelashes. He has his hair up in a loose bun, probably the hairstyle he has in mind for the baby shower.

Louis wraps his arm around Harry as best he can with Harry’s swollen belly between them. “I love it. Have I told you how pretty you look?”

Harry squints his eyes as if he’s trying to remember. Shaking his head, he mumbles, “No. Not today, I don’t think.”

Louis clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Should make it a habit to tell you everyday. Prettiest omega I have ever seen.”

Harry ducks his head down, smiling shyly as he smooths a hand through the front of the dress. “I probably should get changed.”

Instead of letting go of Harry, Louis follows him to their walk-in wardrobe, offering his help in unzipping the dress and hanging it back in the garment bag.

It’s not Louis’ first time seeing Harry naked since he’s pregnant, far from it, but Louis lets his eyes greedily rove over the beautiful curves of his omega as Harry bends over a drawer, picking the pyjama set he wants to sleep in tonight.

The position makes Harry’s belly strained, his heavy tits hang, and Louis gulps down his saliva. He can feel his cock thickening in the confine of his suit pants.

“How come I have never noticed how big your tits are getting?” Louis blurts out.

Harry turns to Louis with an amused smile on his lips. “I don’t know. You tell me.” He glances at the pyjama in hand, taunting, “So do I need to wear my pyjama, or?”

“Or,” Louis answers, crossing the space in quick strides and crowding Harry against the drawer. He rests one hand on Harry’s softened love handles, using the other hand to cup Harry’s tit. They were always a good weight in his hand, thanks to Harry’s vigorous workout routine, but now they spill through the gap of Louis’ fingers as Harry’s body prepares to feed their pup, and Louis loves how full and plump they are getting.

“Lou, on the bed, please. My feet are tired,” Harry whines when Louis starts kneading his tit.

Louis nods, making space for Harry to go to the bedroom. Harry doesn’t even bother with his pyjama, snapping the drawer shut and tugging Louis along with him.

“Take off your clothes. I want to ride you,” Harry demands, getting himself comfortable on the bed. Riding is the only position he’s comfortable in nowadays, and Louis can’t complain. He loves seeing his omega up close, face open, high in pleasure when he first gets Louis’ cock in him, eyebrows scrunch up when his thighs are burning, and voice tremulous when he desperately begs for Louis to take over when he gets tired.

Harry leans on the headrest, eyes ogling Louis as the alpha quickly strips out of his work clothes, leaving it in a heap on the floor. “You are so fit,” Harry murmurs dreamily like he can’t help himself, eyes dilated from arousal.

Louis chuckles, shaking his head. He settles on the bed, leaning on the headrest before tilting his head to kiss Harry’s lips. He holds Harry’s waist as the omega climbs over him, a sly smirk decorating Harry’s pillowy pink lips. Not like Louis is complaining, but his omega is so insatiable these days.

An unmistakable heady sweetness permeates the air, followed by a dribble of wet slick on Louis’ thighs. He chuckles, smirking at Harry. “Watching me get undressed makes you that wet?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “No,” he retorts petulantly. “It’s the hormones. It’s making me -” he licks his lips, but doesn’t pick up his next words otherwise.

“Easy?” Louis taunts, feeling another huge glob of slick on his skin. He has a feeling that the sex that will ensue will be messy, and they will have to change the bed sheets tonight. It makes his cock jump.

Noticing it, Harry takes the opportunity to grind on Louis, rubbing his wet hole on Louis’ hard cock.

“Baby…” Louis warns in a low tone, squeezing Harry’s waist to stop his teasing. It merely fuels the omega as he throws his head back, elongating his neck and displaying Louis’ teeth mark there as he bounces sinfully on top of Louis, full tits jiggling and round belly straining. He makes Louis’ alpha growl possessively, the sight of his beautiful omega grinding on his growing knot with belly full with their pup is enough to rattle his chest.

Harry’s actions are calculated, brushing his hole on Louis’ dripping cock every few seconds. It’s not enough to give Louis the satisfying warmth, but just enough to drive the alpha crazy with the teasing. He smears his slick all over Louis’ crotch, moaning obscenely.

“Fuck,” Louis grumbles. As much as he teases Harry for being easy for him, he isn’t faring any better. He tightens his hold on Harry’s waist, stilling the omega.

Harry looks down at Louis, a smug smirk tugging his lips upward and a brow arching haughtily as if daring Louis to raise to the challenge.

“You are so fucking going to regret that,” Louis croaks out, feeling the stickiness of his precome and Harry’s slick all over his crotch.

Planting both feet firmly on the bed, Louis bends his knees, making Harry gasp in surprise at the change in the position. It gives him some support to lean on when he’s tired, but at the same time, with his round belly in the way, it robs him of the freedom to move. He loves being squished between Louis’ legs and torso though if his devious smile is anything to go by.

With their bodies just inches away from each other, it brings attention to the very thing that sent a twitch to Louis’ cock initially. Harry’s perfectly full and plump tits.

“They have grown so much,” Louis comments, he can’t help the awe trickling in his voice. He cups both tits in hands, moving his hands gently. It’s enough to make both sides jiggle, and Harry’s flush travel down to his neck.

“Lou,” Harry whines, sounding embarrassed even as he pushes himself more into it.

Louis thumbs the hardened nub, smiling at how a shiver passes through Harry’s body, making the omega squirm. His cock dribbling and his slick seems nonstop. He is so wet.

“Such a waste I didn’t pay enough attention to these, don’t you think?” Louis doesn’t give Harry a chance to answer as he leans down, taking a nipple into his mouth. The curve of Harry’s tit fits perfectly in his mouth, and he toys the stiff nipple with his tongue, basking in the pleased moan of his omega.

There’s something about playing with his tits that make Harry so pliant on top of Louis, body limp, giving in to the pleasure. Louis gives a gentle suck, feeling a gush of slick right on his cock.

Louis’ cock is impossibly hard by now, the base of his growing knot pulsing painfully, asking for something warm to sink into. Pulling back, Louis rubs Harry’s glistening nipple, smearing his saliva all over Harry’s full tit. He turns his attention to the other side, locking eyes with Harry as he takes the left nipple between his teeth and gives it a bite. Harry visibly trembles, gasping loudly, the vein on his neck bulging from sheer arousal.

“Nnnghh…” Harry blabbers, eyes fluttering close. “That’s so good, Lou.”

Switching to harsh sucking as if trying to pull milk, Louis rubs Harry’s other nipple between his thumb and index finger. His ministrations alternate between gentle and harsh, driving Harry over the edge.

“Lou, let me - ride you,” Harry begs in between choked moans. “Please, alpha. I will be good.”

Louis pulls off with a loud pop, kissing the wet nub delicately. He flicks his eyes up, cocking an eyebrow at Harry’s pinched up expression.

“Told you, you were going to regret teasing me,” Louis chides before closing the gap of his thumb and index finger, pinching Harry’s nipple in between.

Harry yelps, keening a litany of profanities as his blunt nails press crescent-shaped marks into Louis’ shoulders, tears springing into his eyes. “That’s unfair,” he pouts even as his cock blurts out a fat drop of precome on Louis’ tummy. Huffing a sniffle, he takes a deep breath and raises on his knees.

Harry wraps his fingers around Louis’ cock, making a point to squeeze the shaft harsher than he should before rubbing the weeping cockhead on his clenching hole. It’s so wet that Louis can feel it on his cock vein, but before he can say anything, Harry impales himself on Louis’ cock in one swift motion, punching out a breath from Louis’ chest. It’s dizzying to go from torturous anticipation to delicious warmth all in one second.

“Baby,” Louis grunts, squeezing his eyes shut.

Harry hums, the sound of it is gleeful, and Louis can imagine the dimpled grin of his omega from managing to make Louis breathless. Harry’s movements are languid and soft, like he’s got nothing else to do except for warming his alpha’s cock, gyrating his hips in a perfect figure eight.

Blinking his eyes open, Louis feels like he has ascended to heaven. “Fuck, you are so sexy, omega,” he praises, grazing his knuckles on the side of Harry’s tit down to his swollen belly.

Harry preens, smiling dopily. He makes no effort to fasten his pace, leaning down to press a kiss on Louis’ lips. It takes no time at all before their shared kiss turns filthy, open mouthed and messy with saliva. Harry flutters his eyes close, mouth parted open to let out a soft moan as he tugs and kneads at his tits, matching the undulating of his hips.

Louis has to blink twice to ensure that his sight is not playing him. It’s not. There’s a pearly white liquid beaded at the tip of Harry’s nipple. Louis’ Adam’s apple bobs and he wets the seam of his mouth almost instinctively. Grasping Harry’s waist to still his movement, Louis cups Harry’s right tit, peeking his tongue out of his mouth and licking the pearly white liquid.

“Shit,” Harry curses, snapping his eyes open. Goosebumps apparent on his skin, and Louis swirls his tongue on Harry’s areola. “Is that - milk?” Harry rasps out, looking down at his chest, breaths heaving rapidly.

Pulling away, they both stare at Harry’s chest as more drops trickle down the swell of his right tit. “Tastes like it,” Louis murmurs, catching the drop with his tongue before lapping at the nipple greedily. There’s an unmistakable sweetness of milk, but the taste of it is more rich, and thick.

Throwing his head back, Harry hisses as he kneads his other boob, stimulating his nipple by tugging on it with his fingers. “That’s the first -” His sentence gets cut by a loud moan, shuddering almost violently when Louis wraps his hand around Harry’s cock, thumbing the wet slit urgently. “Time,” Harry breathes, clenching his hole as another spasm go through his body.

The orgasm hits them both at the same time. Harry stutters for a breath, letting out a loud mewl and clutching at Louis’ shoulders desperately. The peak completely catches Louis by surprise – it was too fast, too intense. He growls loudly, the sound of it muffled on Harry’s tit. He bucks up his hips, burying his cock to the hilt and locking his knot inside Harry’s tight hole.

It takes them more time than usual to calm their breath, and Louis gives kitten licks to Harry’s other tit, revelling in the milk beaded at the nipple as he pumps his hand, coaxing more come out of Harry’s cock. He only lets go once Harry’s cock completely softens.

“Are you okay?” Louis checks in. He can’t recognise his own voice, too hoarse from the growling and grumbling.

Harry can only nod, body twitching softly from the aftershocks of his orgasm. “That was intense,” he murmurs. His green eyes are hazy and his usually deep voice turns raspy, like his lungs are still working on regulating his oxygen.

“It was,” Louis agrees. Now that they are both waiting for Louis’ knot to go down, he realises that he can feel a cramp starting to form on his shins.

Seeming to read Louis’ mind, Harry pouts. “Shouldn’t insist on riding you.” He reaches a hand to his back, massaging Louis’ legs with one hand to pump the blood back.

“It’s okay, baby. You didn’t know your milk would come out.”

Harry looks down to his chest, grinning proudly. “What does it tastes like?”

“Perfect,” Louis replies. At Harry’s unimpressed eye roll, he elaborates, “It tastes sweet, like the almond milk you forced me to drink that one time. But – thicker consistency, I think.”

Probably deciding that Louis’ shins have enough blood by now, Harry pulls back his hand. Peering underneath his eyelashes, his smile turns coquettish, and he tugs at both nipples, stimulating them more and more. “You said the milk tasted good,” he says like it explains anything.

Louis doesn’t complain though, because it is a beautiful sight, and if there’s any milk, he is willing to lick it off of Harry. “Your nipples are so soft,” he whispers, almost absentmindedly.

Harry’s cheeks flush with pink and he leans in for a kiss, groaning at the change in position. He pulls away before their lips can connect, eyebrows scrunching up. “Shit, I feel like this position hurts me more than it does you,” he croaks out.

Louis sits up and reaches between them, feeling his knot has gone down slightly. He would prefer for his knot to be buried inside Harry’s hole a little longer, to get it completely soft, but he will manage.

Lifting Harry by his hips to switch his position, Louis bites his lips to endure the throb from pulling his knot early, ignoring Harry’s protest, “I can still feel your knot!”

Despite his disgruntlement, Harry sighs blissfully once his body makes contact with their cosy bed. He rolls over to his side, the most comforting position he can manage at this time of pregnancy. Louis spoons Harry from behind, pressing a soft kiss to his bond mark as he caresses the swell of Harry’s pregnant belly.

Their bodies are sticky with sweat and other kind of liquids, and they both desperately need a shower. But that certainly doesn’t stop Harry from requesting more, “Thank you, but I need you to put it back in.”

“Put what back in, baby?” Louis questions, even though he can already guess. Harry is never one to waste a knot.

Harry throws a glare over his shoulder, and if he could reach far enough for Louis’ cock, Louis knows he will do it. “Put your knot inside me,” he orders, tacking on a stern warning, “And don’t tease.”

“Are you sure you aren’t too tired?” Louis asks as he moves into position, slipping a hand between them to stroke his half hard cock. The knot at the base of his cock is still red and pulsing from being pulled out too early, like it hasn’t finished coming yet.

“You know you are not going to fuck a second pup into me while I’m already pregnant, right?” Harry quips, wiggling his arse invitingly. “Now, get on with it.”

✩

Despite Harry’s wish, Louis can’t take the day off just because it’s the first day of their antenatal class. Knowing Harry and their pup are going to require his full attention, Louis has to ensure most of the projects spearheaded by him are done before Harry’s due date. He doesn’t want to put more pressure on Krystle on top of the one month paternity leave he’s planning to take.

Louis, however, can take a couple of hours away from work which is exactly what he suggested to Harry. Still so overjoyed with how his baby shower went, Harry nods despite a little bit of pout remaining on his lips for the rest of their dinner.

Stepping into the building precisely at five before two in the evening, Louis doesn’t have to pull out his phone to text Harry when he spots his omega waiting on a comfortable looking couch — despite the hideous indigo cover it’s made of — in the lobby. The lobby is far more colourful for a company that does antenatal classes needs to be, bright yellow walls that reminds Louis of McDonald’s logo, indigo couches and bright blue kiddie chairs with red tables in one corner. Louis hopes that whoever did the interior doesn’t include this space in their portfolio.

Harry flicks his eyes up to Louis, his nose twitching imperceptibly. He must have been able to catch the whiff of Louis’ scent before he can even see Louis. Nose of a pregnant omega and all that.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry greets once Louis takes a seat beside him.

“Hi, baby,” Louis replies, lips brushing Harry’s cheek. “The class starts at two, right? Finish at four?”

Harry nods, turning to Louis with his lips pursed. Louis gives in, a fleeting kiss to Harry’s pillowy pink lips. “Okay. I need to text my chauffeur.” Louis pulls out his phone, firing a rapid text and informing his driver about the time. Pocketing his phone back, Louis mumbles, “I might have to stay late at the office. I have a meeting with Harris and Krystle.”

Harry furrows his eyebrows. “Harris? Oh, he’s back?”

“Yes. I haven’t met him though,” Louis answers. Shortly after bumping into each other at the company’s gala, Harris went into labour. Oli sent a flower arrangement once or twice on Louis’ behalf to the hospital, and Harry sent a gift basket for Harris and a hamper for his pup once they were discharged. Harris has been away for six months for his maternity leave ever since, and he just reported back to work this week, which only proves how busy Louis is going to be for the next few weeks.

Before Louis can add anything, a man in his mid twenties pokes his head out from one of the rooms. He beams when he sees them, walking straight to the couch as he fixes the position of his black, thick frame glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Misters Tomlinson, you can enter the room now. The doula is getting ready for the class.”

Louis is too distracted by the words to remember what he needs to tell Harry. “A doula?” He whispers, cocking his eyebrows. He has never heard about a doula before, almost certain they have all been replaced by midwives by now.

Harry nods, slinging his handbag to his shoulder. “Like a midwife?”

Louis bites his tongue as he laces their fingers together, swallowing the question of why not a midwife then. Apprehension starting in his gut, and he has a feeling he’s about to regret coming to this antenatal class with Harry.

Coming into the room, Louis sees there are four more couples for the session; all excited and eager for their first antenatal class. The same young man asked them to take off their shoes and take a sit on thick cushions arranged on the floor. Louis would love it if it’s a proper couch rather than just cushions as his omega is heavily pregnant, but Harry doesn’t mind bending down and folding his legs even though he has to breathe through his mouth at the end of the ordeal.

“Are you okay?” Louis murmurs, protectiveness surges in his alpha. Just the thought of minor inconvenience to his omega has him fuming.

Harry smiles softly, nodding. “You know I sit on the floor and squat while doing yoga every morning, right?”

Louis huffs out an exasperated sigh. “Not the point.”

They are served a cup of a herbal drink while waiting for the doula. It has a strong scent of artificial pine trees, the cloying kind that makes you dizzy, and there’s nothing sweet or tasty about the drink; merely a green water with an acrid taste. Louis imagines that is what grasses on the field taste like.

The couple beside Louis and Harry finishes their drink, placing their cups on the saucers with a clink. Harry does too, easily swallowing the liquid before placing his cup on the saucer. He turns to Louis with expectant eyes, and Louis takes a deep breath before gulping down the rest of his drink in one swallow.

Louis can’t help but grumble fuck under his breath. Harry laughs softly, shaking his head and nudging Louis’ shoulder. “It wasn’t that terrible,” he defends.

Louis can think of at least a dozen adjective to describe the taste of the drink, and every single of them is some sort of profanity. He doesn’t want to offend anybody in case anyone is listening, so he simply settles with, “It definitely was, babe.” Swirling his tongue in his mouth, Louis clenches his jaw. The herbal drink definitely leaves an aftertaste. Thankfully, a staff comes in and collects the cups soon after, taking away the horrid smell of artificial pine trees with it.

The young man walks to the front of the room, pulling all the focus to him. With the grin he greeted Harry and Louis at the lobby, he announces, “Thank you for your patience. The doula will be with you now. We wish you a wonderful journey.” He bows slightly before walking out of the door that he guided them through.

Louis glances at Harry, a snarky comment playing at the tip of his tongue about how odd this class feels, but at the sight of Harry’s focused gaze directed to the front, Louis scraps his unsolicited remark. Maybe antenatal classes are supposed to work like this, Louis just hasn’t been to one to know.

The person that walks through the door next is a a male omega in his thirties. He has long, thick black hair that are pulled into a tight ponytail. A charming smile on his lips, and his eyes are kind and gentle. The kind you usually see on doctors and teachers.

Regardless of the doula’s easygoing persona, his presence in the class doesn’t placate Louis’ heart. It does exactly the opposite, wary gnawing at his gut.

Rubbing his hands together, the doula starts with a greeting, “Good evening, future parents. I believe you have met my assistant, Jaiden. My name is Kenneth, and I will be your doula for your classes. We will see each other several more times over the next few weeks in which I hope will help us become closer. First of all, I would like to thank you for enrolling in the class as this is the first step in preparing you into a new world of parenthood. As you all know, the class is specifically designed for first time expectant male omegas…”

It’s all very cliche introduction with a mix of funky words thrown here and there, and Louis tries his best to not look bored. Next on the agenda is an ice breaking session, and the first couple doesn’t even try to stand up, merely turning to the rest of the room and raising a hand to introduce themselves which is something Louis is immensely grateful for.

“Tell us about your biggest fear while in labour, Mister Moore,” Kenneth says, addressing the pregnant omega of the first couple.

Louis imagines it will take longer to answer a question about biggest fear, but apparently Mister Moore has spent quite some time thinking about it because he blurts out almost instantly, “I’m afraid of having to use unnecessary medications while in labour.”

Without having to turn and gauge the reaction of everyone in the room, Louis can see most of them agree with the statement, nodding among themselves while the omegas stroke their belly almost absentmindedly. Except Harry, of course.

The next two couples who introduce themselves admitted to the same fear, one being more elaborate by mentioning something about hypnobirthing not working on him, and Louis is lost, trying to understand the meaning of the word.

It’s their turn to address the room, and Harry starts, “Uh - hi.” He raises a hand, waving awkwardly with a dimpled smile on his face. “My name is Harry Tomlinson. I’m here with my alpha, Louis Tomlinson. I’m thirty weeks, and my due date is in November.”

Walking closer to them, Kenneth prompts, “Tell us about your biggest fear while in labour, Mister Tomlinson.”

“Oh - urm,” Harry stutters, flicking his eyes to Louis. Panic fleeting in Harry’s green eyes before he confesses slowly, “I think - my pup or me not surviving the labour.”

The answer that comes out of Harry’s mouth is not what’s expected out of the omegas, and it’s clear by how taken aback the couples in the room are – all knitted brows and accusing eyes – even Kenneth’s smile dims a little. Harry’s answer clearly puts a damper in the bubbly mood they are in.

Louis reaches for Harry’s hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a kiss to Harry’s knuckles. With all pregnancies, there are certain risks to be carried, and Louis understands the worry regardless of Doctor Beatrice’s assurance of the improved maternal mortality rate. Squeezing Harry’s hand, Louis refuses to imagine a world where he doesn’t have Harry by his side. They should have a talk, just in case anything happened.

“I love you,” Louis murmurs, pecking a kiss on Harry’s lips. He couldn’t care less about anyone in the room, especially not the last couple who are so scared of having to use an epidural.

Harry squeezes his hand back. “I love you too.”

Before they know it, Kenneth slowly moves to the next item on the agenda. Clapping his hands in front of the room, he announces with much more exuberance warranted for a group of adults, “Thank you all for the wonderful introductions. For now, we are going to divide you into a group of pregnant omegas and their partners. Here’s where we test your basic knowledge on taking care of a pup, and hopefully, by the end of our time together, everyone will be more equipped.”

Louis stifles a sigh as he stands. He can imagine the kind of stupid test the doula has in place for them. The same young man with thick framed glasses comes in on cue, guiding the partners into another door that is connected with the room. Louis glances at Harry, and his heart is at ease seeing Harry grinning at one of the omegas approaching him. Harry has always been the social butterfly between the two of them.

“Please stand in front of your station.” Jaiden’s monotonous voice snaps Louis’ focus into the room.

Louis strides to the last station, the furthest from Jaiden and closest to the door. He looks down at a smiling doll on a changing table. Just like he expected, stupid fucking test.

“Please help yourself to the diapers and the necessary items at the side of your station. This is only to know your basic knowledge about taking care of your pup. There’s no such thing as a mistake,” Jaiden reminds gently, meandering behind them. “The most crucial moments are right after labour, so you need to step up to take care of your pup while your omega rests. So it’s important for you to practise.”

Louis can change a nappy with both of his eyes closed, that’s a fact. He has five younger siblings in which has given him vast experience in nappies changing technique. As expected, he finishes first, wiping the doll’s butt with a wet wipe, smearing just enough rash cream before taping the diapers. The alpha beside him has trouble trying to figure out the tape, and he keeps on flicking his eyes to Louis’ doll.

“Just at the side. The jagged edge,” Louis mumbles, pointing with his fingers to the thickened white edge that the alpha misses.

The alpha doesn’t say a word even though it’s clear he’s only able to locate the diaper tape with Louis’ help. Fucking arsehole, he muses.

“Oh, Mister Tomlinson! Brilliant! You are done! Should we do it again?”

Needless to say, Louis aces his basic knowledge test. He can’t say the same to the rest of the participants though. He doesn’t try to help the alpha beside him when he’s struggling with folding the swaddle into a triangle, or correct his burping technique. The guy clearly was too proud to ask for assistance.

With an hour of the class left, they are finally reunited with their partners with a promise that Jaiden will teach them about everything before their course ends. Louis shakes his head to himself, he isn’t looking forward to learning what he already knows.

The next hour is spent learning the insides and outs of the placenta. It starts out intriguing, Louis will admit that, but soon it turns out to be eerie and before Louis knows it, Kenneth is already explaining various ways of consuming the placenta; encapsulating it into pills like what numerous celebrities have been doing, or add it to smoothies, or cook it by steaming it.

Even Harry looks downright disgusted by the last option...

After what Louis thinks is the most abhorrent two hours of his life, Kenneth finally reaches the end of his slides. He announces the class is over with a loud clap, saying he’s looking forward to their next class – Louis can’t say he shares the same sentiment.

“Lou,” Harry calls while Louis is waiting for his chauffeur, tugging Louis’ hand gently to get his attention.

“Yes, baby,” Louis answers, clicking off his phone. “What’s wrong?”

Harry purses his lips. “Nothing is wrong,” he mutters. His tone sullen and before Louis can ask what happened, Harry continues, “I just - I feel like I don’t want an epidural.”

Without meaning to, Louis furrows his eyebrows. It’s just - being in labour is the most painful thing in the world, and having medication that can help to reduce the pain seems like an easy choice for Louis. Whatever happened when Louis was having his stupid basic knowledge test on how to change a nappy or swaddle a pup, it was enough to change Harry’s mind about needing an epidural.

Clearing his throat, Louis stares at Harry, searching for a flicker of hesitation about his decision on his face. Harry looks pretty certain, though. Big green eyes, wide and determined, and there’s nothing amiss about his scent.

“Lou?” Harry prompts, tilting his head curiously.

“It’s up to you, babe. It’s your birthing plan. I will support you through every decision. If you are certain, then we will talk to Doctor Beatrice about it at the next appointment, okay?” Louis reassures him even as he makes a mental note to visit this topic once again, preferably far and away from Kenneth and other omegas whose biggest fear is having to use pain medication.

Harry smiles, nodding his head as he agrees with Louis’ suggestion.

Lacing their fingers together, Louis murmurs, “But baby, please don’t tell me you are planning to eat your placenta. I can’t imagine having to kiss that mouth afterward.”

Harry barks out a laugh, throwing his head back from sheer delight. He only covers his mouth when a couple who just walked into the lobby cast him a dirty look, and his face flushes from withholding his laugh. His honking laugh is truly music to Louis’ ear, and his alpha preens from managing to pull that beautiful sound out of his omega.

“No - not swayed so far,” Harry manages to answer through the wheeze of his laughter.

✩

By ten in the morning, Louis is ready for the day to be over. He just had the most infuriating meeting with what has to be the most inept supplier he’s ever had to deal with for the last sixteen years of his career. If he wasn’t so desperate for a company with high production volume, he would have changed the supplier two months ago. Shaking his head as if it can chase away the looming headache, Louis takes a huge gulp of his freshly brewed coffee that he took from the meeting room.

A rap on the glass door comes, and Louis sighs softly. “Come in,” he permits, half relieved that it’s only Oli. He doesn’t think he has the capacity to discuss the aftermath of the meeting with anyone just yet.

Stepping into the office, Oli winces looking at Louis’ face. “That bad, huh?” He asks, referring to the meeting.

Louis snorts. “You know it.”

Oli offers a sympathetic smile. He looks down at the iPad in his hand, claiming, “I come here bearing good news for you. Anderson’s office just called, and your morning meeting for tomorrow is cancelled – something about a family emergency. So that means, you have only two meetings tomorrow after lunch.”

“Try to find out…”

“About the family emergency and send a flower arrangement if necessary,” Oli cuts, tapping briskly on the screen of his iPad. “On it, boss,” he informs, smiling wide at Louis.

The swift action makes Louis smile. If only everything worked so quickly and in his favour. “I forget how good you are sometimes,” Louis admits. “I have a lunch meeting with Payne today, right?”

“Yup,” Oli confirms, popping the p. “Oh, and don’t forget your second antenatal class afterward. Harry booked your time from two to four. It’s the 28th today, so you are supposed to have the department meeting, but I pushed it to four since you have the class.”

The headache definitely has made its presence known now. If they have the department meeting in the evening, that means Louis won’t be home until at least nine. “I do?” He questions, can’t quite keep the exasperation out of his voice. “Do you how many classes are there?” Harry might have mentioned it, but Louis can’t remember how many antenatal classes he has to attend altogether.

Oli flicks his eyes to the iPad screen. He scrolls several times, which makes dread settle in Louis’ gut. “Oli?” He asks when Oli’s eyes widened.

“Huh?” Oli snaps his head up to Louis. “Oh, you have eight classes. Two for every week.”

“Eight?” Louis squawks, his voice raising an octave, disbelief colouring his tone. “Fucking hell. That’s a little bit excessive, no?”

Oli shrugs a shoulder. “What do I know? I have never attended one.”

“Fucking nonsense is what they are,” Louis grumbles. He can’t believe he naively agreed to attend antenatal classes with Harry. Of course his omega would choose the longest, most insufferable class there is in London.

The lunch meeting ends exactly at half past one, but the traffic is crazy, and Louis runs late to the class. Thankfully, Jaiden is waiting for him in the lobby, grinning and welcoming as ever. He guides Louis to the room they last used, and apparently, Kenneth runs even later than Louis judging by the cups of herbal drink on the floor that aren’t collected yet.

“Sorry I’m late. The traffic is crazy,” Louis mumbles, kissing Harry’s lips hello.

“It’s okay. We haven’t started yet,” Harry replies easily, pursing his lips for another kiss. “Drink your water, Lou.”

Louis makes a muted groan, and Harry just smiles fondly, enjoying how much Louis despises it. He picks up the cup and the saucer, offering it to Louis.

“You are lucky I love you,” Louis whispers as he wraps his fingers around the handle. His nose picks up the cloying scent of artificial pine trees coming from the drink. It’s a miracle that no one in the room hasn’t commented on it yet, or maybe they have but they are too polite to say anything out loud about it. Closing his eyes and holding his breath, he drinks it in one go.

Harry takes the empty cup from his hand, carefully placing it back on the saucer. “Ah! The things my alpha does for me,” he taunts cheekily, green eyes glimmering in pure delight. As if trying to make up for the horrid taste of the drink, Harry leans in to kiss Louis on his lips.

Before long, Jaiden comes in to collect the cups, and Kenneth comes into the room, a thick file under his arm. Louis can only hope that whatever the content is, it will be better than their first class.

When Kenneth informs them that their second class will focus on labour and everything related to it, Louis can’t help but be wary. In his defence, everyone seemed to hate pain medication in the last class, and Kenneth didn’t comment anything on it.

Much to Louis’ dismay, Kenneth’s presentation is exactly what he envisioned. It specifically covers natural labour. Not even a mention of the C-sections, episiotomies, or epidurals in sight after what feels like an unnecessarily long presentation. There’s an alpha who’s seated behind Louis and Harry who asks about epidurals, and pretty much gets a lecture about how bad epidurals can be to the omegas’ body. That doesn’t justify not covering opioids or local anaesthetic injections that don’t react as strongly though.

“Omegas have done this for ages without any help from modern medicine. You have to believe that giving birth is a natural thing for all omegas,” Kenneth concludes simply at the end of his explanation, and Louis is so close to standing up and leaving the class. He can be at the office and get his work done rather than be in an antenatal class that does nothing, but drive his blood pressure up.

The worst thing is yet to come though because after learning theoretically about labour, Kenneth thinks it’s a good idea to do it practically. If Louis has to give a rating for this class, it will be in the negative range.

Leaning close to Harry, Louis whispers as Kenneth spreads a mat on the floor. “Is he doing what I think he’s doing?”

Harry narrows his eyes as Kenneth kneels on his hands and knees. “This birthing position is good to reduce back pain. This position is good during active labour when you are already dilated about three cm. Your contractions are more frequent and stronger, and this can help to open your pelvis for the next stage,” Kenneth explains as he starts swaying his hips back and forth.

Then, things start to go south.

On a rather high pelvis tilt that Louis doesn’t think Harry can do being thirty weeks pregnant, Kenneth starts reenacting what labour will look like. His breaths turn heavy, panting as he raises his hips higher than the rest of his body. He sways his hips and writhes in almost a pornographic way.

“Fucking hell,” Harry mumbles under his breath. His eyes widened when Kenneth starts letting out a loud moan, face contorted in a way that looks more pleasurable than what a labour should be.

Just when Louis thinks he can’t take a second more of this shit show, Kenneth stops. He gets through the rest of the birthing positions rather efficiently, even if he starts emitting a wanton whine while kneeling on the floor with the help of a birthing ball. He gets off the floor like he didn’t outright moan in front of everyone, and rubs his palms excitedly, promising that everyone will get their turn to practise the birthing positions with their partner in their next class.

The last fifteen minutes are specially for the Q & A session, and the omega from Harry’s side raises his hand. The same omega who Louis saw talking to Harry last week.

“I have a question,” he starts even though he sounds uncertain. He glances at his partner, and his cheeks are flaming red as he continues, “Regarding what you mentioned last week about feeding our pup – my sister had a problem with feeding her pup, and so she used bottle feeding. I’m thinking, what if I have the same problem? What if my pup won’t latch? Is it okay if I use bottle feeding too? I’m also worried that my body won’t produce enough milk.”

If Louis has to describe what Kenneth looks like upon hearing the question, it will be grief-stricken. He casts a sympathetic look at the couple, not bothering to hide his wince. “Did your sister had a doula to help her with the delivery?”

The omega shakes his head.

Kenneth gasps, glancing at the ceiling as he sighs heavily. “I don’t want to sound so obtuse, but I have never heard of an omega that can’t produce enough milk to feed their pup. This is why I said it’s important to have a doula by your side, we will help to stimulate your breast to increase your milk production and teach you how to breastfeed your pup. There’s nothing to worry about. I will cover breastfeeding and everything related in the next class, including positions to nurse your pup.”

A question plays on the tip of Louis’ tongue. What is so bad about feeding formulas or bottle feeding? The last thing he needs is further burdening his omega so soon after delivery, especially if it doesn’t come naturally. If bottle feeding or formulas can alleviate some of that burden, Louis is all for it. He turns to Harry, but seeing Harry smile, eyes lighting up at the promise of a breastfeeding discussion at the next class, makes Louis tuck back his question.

Addressing the rest of the class, Kenneth advises, “You have to remember, there’s nothing better for a pup than the mother’s milk.”

✩

Louis’ phone buzzes on the meeting table. Before he can check the text, Harry’s name appears on the screen of his laptop.

When are you coming home? 👀

Flicking his eyes to the clock, Louis sighs. It’s half past eight, and he’s been at the meeting table since six. After another meeting with his incompetent supplier to which they said no to all of Louis’ requests of any kind of expedition, he is too exhausted to go back to his office. As long as there’s a table to put his laptop and a cosy chair for him to sit and lean on, he can do his work anywhere. He types a reply on his laptop.

Soon, babe. I will try to be at home before nine :)

The reply comes in an instant.

Okay. But you can also bring work home, and I promise I won’t bother you. 🥺

Louis smiles. The memory of Harry curling up on the couch in the home office while waiting for Louis to finish his work like when they first got married flashes at the back of his mind. Only this time the couch won’t be comfortable with his round belly. Harry has enough trouble trying to sleep as it is nowadays, and Louis doesn’t want to further disturb his omega’s sleeping schedule.

Another text comes.

I want cuddles. We miss you. ❤️

The text includes a picture of Harry pouting at the camera, and the second picture is the jar of his body butter balanced precariously on his swollen belly. It’s been three days since Louis last massaged the body butter into Harry’s skin – he came back home late and Harry was already sleeping – and Louis is not about to make it into the fourth day.

On my way home, babe :)

He gets a reply of three rows of exclamation marks, ❤️ and 🍑 emoji, and Louis chuckles. He checks his email one last time, his interest piqued by the marketing email entitled International Trade Fair. He spends about five minutes reading through the email and makes a quick research about the vendors that are joining the fair. It might be a good place to find a new, better supplier for the company’s upcoming project, and so he sends an email for Oli to book his tickets to Paris for the fair before shutting his laptop down for the day.

Louis is ready to go back to his pregnant omega and give him all the cuddles he needs.

✩

In a rare occasion in October, the sky is bright and blue with fluffy white clouds dappled all over. Louis has been in the office since half six in the morning, seeing the sky change from dark to bright as he takes his international conference call. The only reason he isn’t so grumpy this morning is because he managed to sneak a quickie with Harry while he was doing yoga with his birthing ball.

How could Louis not when Harry was wearing his neon orange skimpy shorts and a stretchy tank top that left nothing to the imagination? They might or might not find another use for Harry’s birthing ball other than for yoga poses.

A quickie with his pregnant mate, and also the possible prospect of finding a new supplier have him in a good mood. Now that the conference call is over, he’s ready to leave for his trade fair in Paris when Oli pokes his head in.

“Boss, your coffee as per requested,” Oli says, handing Louis the paper cup with his preferred coffee brand label emblazoned on the front. Oli always knows what he likes best.

“Thanks, lad,” Louis mumbles, raising his cup a bit before taking a sip of his coffee. It’s hot, rich in caffeine, and perfect for boosting Louis’ energy for the rest of the day. Standing up, Louis takes his wallet and phone from the drawer, pocketing both in his pants pocket as he informs, “That’s all for today, I think. I’m off for Paris with Krystle and Harris.”

Oli tilts his head. “Oh – you’re going?”

Louis frowns at Oli’s confused tone and expression. “What do you mean I’m going? Of course I am. I asked you to book the train tickets for me last week.”

“Yeah, but…” Oli drawls before continuing, in a much slower tone, “It coincides with your antenatal class. So I thought you weren’t going.”

“Oh,” Louis breathes, just realising that he never really check his schedule after forwarding the email to Oli and asking him to book the tickets. He was too eager to get back to Harry last Friday. “That’s fine. You booked the tickets, right?”

Oli nods, and Louis smiles. The choice between a trade fair that can possibly solve his headaches for the past two months of dealing with his supplier and a class where he has to bear listening to Kenneth’s conservative opinion of labour is fairly an easy choice for Louis.

“Good. Because I’m going to Paris,” Louis decides.

The trade fair is exactly the thing that the company needs, and Louis can’t find it in himself to regret choosing it over the antenatal class, especially when they found a new potential supplier who is capable of manufacturing products at a higher capacity than their current supplier. Several more meetings to decide on the intricacies of the project, and hopefully, the new venture will be underway.

The house is dark except for one lone light in the entryway, and it’s not out of the ordinary considering it’s already half past ten. Harry must have fallen asleep hours ago. Carefully navigating the layout of his own house, Louis climbs the stairs to go to the master bedroom.

To Oli’s credit, he had warned Louis that Harry didn’t reply to his text about Louis not coming to the class. Not even a curt acknowledgment whatsoever, and so Louis asked him to buy a huge bouquet of roses for Harry. Harry always has a bit of a soft spot for flowers.

Slowly creaking the door open to not wake Harry up from his slumber, Louis steps into the dark room. There’s something wrong in the room. He doesn’t have to flick the light switch on to know that Harry isn’t in it. There’s no potent smell of sweet honey and vanilla coming from the bed, and the room is quiet without Harry’s soft snores or water running from the ensuite.

Flicking the light switch on, Louis frowns at the meticulously made bed. Not even Harry’s handbag is on it, which means — where the hell is his omega?

His intention of placing the bouquet of roses on Harry’s bedside table so his omega can wake up to flowers tomorrow falters. Uneasiness creeps up into Louis’ heart and he tosses the bouquet on the bed, fishing out his phone from his pants pocket. Striding out of the room, he calls Harry’s phone, groaning when it goes straight to voicemail. He tries again as he rakes his brain trying to figure out where Harry can possibly be. He can’t remember there’s been a time their fight became this bad that he can’t get a hold of Harry.

The slightly gaping door at the end of the hallway makes him do a double take. The crib was delivered last Friday, and they spent almost the entire weekend decorating the nursery. If there’s anything left to do in the nursery, Harry didn’t say anything to Louis.

Pushing the door open, Louis’ nose immediately catches the bitter scent of vanilla burning. He hears a hiss and his eyebrows shoot up.

“Baby, why are you hissing at me?” Louis clicks the light switch on the wall, bathing the room in bright, white light. It only serves to make Harry even more upset if the louder snarl is any indication, but Louis doesn’t make a move to click the switch off as his heart wretched at the sight in front of him.

Harry sits on the floor, tucked in the corner of the room. He’s surrounded by a heap of soft blankets and their clothes, including some of the pup’s newly washed clothes. Tiny, printed onesies and one-piece pyjamas sticking out in a way that couldn’t be on purpose. Harry must have been in distress while he scrambled to make his nest.

“Baby, what happened?” Louis asks softly. He doesn’t dare to get closer, well aware of how territorial omegas get over their nests. Not like Harry ever stopped Louis from entering his nest before, but Louis knows this time it’s different.

Harry sniffles, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “You - you didn’t come to the class today.”

Regret starts pooling in the pit of Louis’ stomach. The success of scoring a new supplier seems dull at the cost of his omega’s tears. His alpha rattles in his chest. “I had a fair in Paris, baby. Oli texted you, right? Did you read it?”

Harry’s brows are knitted. “It’s not about that,” he snaps, glaring at Louis even with his eyes wet with tears. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that -” Harry takes a pregnant pause, fisting a watermelon-printed onesie in his hand. “That you hate the class.”

Folding his legs, Louis sits on the floor across the room. He’s desperate to hold Harry in his arms, but Harry hasn’t invited him into the nest yet. “I don’t hate the class, baby. I just - I don’t like it,” Louis corrects gently which is partially true. It was an odd class and Louis would love it if Kenneth stopped pushing his natural birth agenda on everyone in the class, but not everything was totally garbage.

Harry’s bottom lip trembles and he tucks it between his teeth. “Do you - do you not want this pup?” He blubbers, rubbing his belly with a pitiful sniffle. His eyes are puffy and the tip of his nose is red from crying.

Louis’ heart lurches to his stomach. “What? Baby, no!” He squawks, surprised, sitting up a little. His shoulders tense upon hearing the question. “What are you talking about? Of course I want a mini you,” he murmurs.

Whatever Louis said was wrong because he sees right in front of his eyes how Harry’s tears turn into pure rage. He scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head. “You - oh fucking hell! I can’t believe this!”

Panic rises in Louis’ chest. “What?”

“Mini-me? She’s a mini us, you knothead!” Harry yells, grabbing a dress from his side. He bunches the fabric and hurls it at Louis.

Louis catches it easily, making Harry groan frustratedly. “Baby, just so you know, you are being very irrational right now,” Louis cautions as he catches another bunched-up dress.

“I’m carrying a pup that you don’t even want!” Harry sneers, his eyes are murderous.

“Hey,” Louis warns, alpha timbre lacing his words. He scoots forward, raising his hand in the air like he’s waving a white flag. “Don’t say things like that. Pup can hear you, you told me that.”

Harry huffs out an exasperated breath, jutting his pink lips and crossing his arms against his chest. He looks like a petulant toddler more than anything else, but Louis doesn’t comment on it. He’s already treading on thin ice right now. “What makes you think that, baby? Did someone say something in class today?”

“Nobody said anything,” Harry chokes out, ducking his head to his chest. “It - it’s just you didn’t come, and I think - I don’t know what to think, Lou. I was overthinking things, like how we never talked about having pups before bonding, and suddenly I said I wanted pups after Lucky. It makes me think – do you even want a pup in the first place?”

“Baby, I can admit that I wasn’t excited initially,” Louis confesses softly. He offers a small smile when Harry snaps his head up, his chin wobbling like a new set of fresh tears are about to come. “But that was before. Before you got pregnant. Before I heard our pup’s heartbeat.”

Harry’s grip on the onesie tightens, turning his knuckles white. “So you just agreed to have a pup because that’s what I want?”

“Initially, yes. You know I will do anything to make you happy, baby.” Louis inches closer, taking it as a minor win when Harry doesn’t hiss or hurl another piece of clothing at him. “But that’s not what this is about anymore. It’s not only what you want. It’s what we want now. I love you and our pup. And I really really want her to be here,” he reiterates, glancing at the nursery. It’s ready for the arrival of their pup — a bespoke crib with intricate calligraphy of the name chosen; Isadora Leigh, a matching dresser and a changing table, colourful hanging toys to stimulate her senses, a rocking chair that Harry scoured all over England for, and a rack of shelves full of children’s books that were once Louis’ and Harry’s favourite.

Harry makes himself impossibly small in the corner of the nursery. There’s a quiet sniffle, and a sharp inhale like he’s trying to steel himself before he pipes out, tone timid yet hopeful, “You do?”

“I do, baby. I’m sorry if I did anything that makes you think otherwise. Is this because I missed the class?”

Harry chuckles wetly as he bobs his head, dabbing the corner of his eyes with his index finger. “Everyone looked so excited. And you - you always looked like you were constipated in the class, Lou.”

Louis snorts, partly relieved and partly worried. It’s good that Harry can crack a joke now. He doesn’t think he can take much longer seeing his pregnant mate crying over his actions, incidentally or not.

Seeing the corner of Harry’s lips twitch and whiffing the sweet vanilla scent in the air, Louis implores, “Can I be honest?”

Harry nods his head.

This is the time to be honest. Of course Louis would prefer to do it over breakfast or while cuddling, but they are long overdue for a discussion anyway. “I really really hate the class,” he admits. “And not because I was constipated,” he adds hastily, keeping up with the joke. It manages to make Harry’s lips quirk up. “Fuck Kenneth, okay? I fucking hate his guts, and what’s that about the biggest fear was having to use epidurals? I’m not pregnant, but even I know how stupid that sounds.”

Harry clicks his tongue, cradling his swollen belly. “Lou, pup can hear you,” he chastises light heartedly. His eyes twinkle with delight, as if he’s waited the whole week to hear Louis vent about the class.

“I’m sorry, pup. But I just need your mummy to be in the least amount of pain while in labour.” Harry smiles as he scoots to the side, making space for Louis in his messy nest. He pats the empty space once, and Louis is quick on his feet, settling beside Harry on the plush blanket.

Pressing a kiss on top of Harry’s hair, Louis opens his arms for Harry to burrow into. “I don’t want you to be pressured to nurse our pup. You can use bottles and formulas whenever you don’t feel like it,” Louis continues, carding his fingers through Harry’s soft curls.

“I need to use bottles to feed her, you know? Mum said it’s the best way to bond with your pup, and I want to do that,” he adds, trying to remember all the things Kenneth said that he doesn’t agree with. “Babe, don’t even think about home birthing. Omegas might have delivered their pups in a cave floor throughout history, but I don’t need you to do the same.”

Harry groans. “I hate when he keeps on saying that, as if omegas can pop a pup by the sidewalk. I know it’s natural, but it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t make it easier on myself, you know?” Turning to Louis, Harry announces determinedly with a little pinch to his eyebrows, “I don’t care what they said, but I want to do epidurals. Whatever pain medication Doctor Beatrice suggested, I will say yes.”

“Thank God. I knew you would come to your senses soon enough.”

Harry cackles, batting Louis’ chest before he rests his head on Louis’ shoulder, sighing heavily. “I hate that class too. I didn’t know what I signed us up for. In my defence, you should have seen the reviews and the ads, everyone was raving about it.”

“It’s obvious they would choose the good one, don’t you think?” Louis quips, chuckling when Harry shushes him. “If you hate it so much, why did you go then?”

Sighing wistfully, Harry grabs Louis’ hand from his shoulder and lowers it to his waist. “I just want to have new mummy friends, Lou. Not those people who already have three kids and can raise a new pup in their sleep. I want people that are in the same situation as I am - first time mum.”

“I’m sure there are other ways to get new friends, babe.”

“Most articles said antenatal class is the easiest place to make friends,” Harry insists, sounding sullen. “But – you know what, I would rather navigate motherhood alone rather than have them as my friends.”

They both continue complaining about the class with Harry indulging Louis on what he missed, ridiculing the take on hypnobirthing that Kenneth focused on today — a technique that aims to ease the pain and anxiety associated with labour by using hypnosis, deep breathing, visualisation, and other relaxation techniques. They laugh over words like ‘uterine waves’ and ‘birth breathing’ until Harry complains of his bad back, and Louis helps him to get on his feet, walking to the master bedroom hand in hand.

✩

“Kiss me once and then go,” Harry says, tilting his chin for a kiss once he stops in front of the building.

Louis obliges, giving two more kisses to Harry’s lips just because. “I’m worried you are driving in the rain with a belly this big. Are you sure you don’t want my chauffeur to drive you home?” Harry asked him out for lunch on a spur, and when Louis agreed, Harry told him that he was already waiting in the lobby.

Harry gasps, eyes wide in mock affronted. “This is what I get after asking you out? Ungrateful!”

Louis chuckles at Harry’s antics. Thankfully after the initial meltdown last week, Harry is back to usual. Happy and bubbly, impatiently waiting for their pup’s arrival. “I’m just worried,” Louis murmurs, thumbing the hinge of Harry’s jaw.

Leaning his head back against the headrest, Harry lets out a heavy sigh, his lips jutting out dramatically. “I have nothing left to do. The nursery is done, the baby shower is done, the shopping is done. I planned to fill the last of my pregnancy weeks with antenatal class, but you know how that went…”

Louis does. After that night, they both dropped out of the class first thing in the morning and now Harry is mourning over it.

“Do you know it’s impossible to find a new class? Most of them are full, and those that aren’t, look like -” Harry rolls his eyes, continuing begrudgingly, “It reminds me too much of Kenneth’s class and I don’t want that.”

Louis has to bite back a smile. Harry is endearing with his swollen belly, pouty pink lips, and soft, whiny voice that can melt anyone’s heart. “Let’s go out for dinner tonight. I will ask Oli to find someplace we haven’t been so we can try something new, yeah?”

Harry’s eyes light up, and he sits up excitedly. “Like a date?”

Louis bobs his head, slipping his hand into Harry’s curl and giving Harry’s scalp a light scratch. It gets the omega purring contentedly, pliant in his arms. “Like a date,” he confirms. “Be pretty. Go buy yourself something new for tonight.”

Harry coos, reaching for Louis’ hand. “I should, shouldn’t I? Give my alpha a treat for being so nice to me.” The sultry tone interlaced with a promise makes Louis’ cock twitch, and he has to physically extract himself from the car and Harry’s hand before he pulls his omega to the side for a quickie.

They bid each other goodbye with more fleeting kisses, and Louis waits until Harry’s Range Rover is out of his sight before he walks into the building.

“Ah, look at our boss, being in love as ever,” says a familiar voice from Louis’ side.

Louis turns to cast a glare at Krystle, pointedly smiling at Harris at her side. “You two just came back from lunch?”

“Lunch meeting,” Krystle corrects. “Not everyone has a mate that picks them up for lunch,” she continues without being prompted, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Ignoring Krystle’s taunt, Louis slips his hands into pants pocket. “Harris, now that you’re here, I have something to ask,” he starts, only to take a pregnant pause as he tries to arrange the question in his head. “Uh -” He frowns, rocking back on his heels. He doesn’t want to sound nosy, but Harry really wants first-time mum friends and who’s better to ask than Harris who recently moved to London? “Do you know how to get omega friends? Preferably first time mums?”

Harris furrows his eyebrows, opening his mouth, but no words come out.

“Is this for Harry?” Krystle interjects, cocking her eyebrows. Turning her face to Harris, she divulges, “Harry is Louis’ mate. They are expecting their first pup in November.”

Recognition dawns on Harris’ face, and he smiles. “Oh, Harry? He sent me a gift basket when I was discharged from the hospital.”

Krystle clicks her tongue, smiling fondly. “Ah, that sounds like him.”

“Did Harry join antenatal yoga class?” Harris queries, his tone nothing but polite.

Louis shakes his head. If Harry joined any, he would have heard about it by now. “No. He did yoga on his own.”

Harris hums noncommittally. “I can understand the appeal of doing yoga alone, especially in the morning. People say it’s prime time for meditation.” Krystle nods in agreement as they walk to the elevator. “I joined this antenatal yoga class because I wouldn’t get any workout done otherwise, and my doctor insisted on it,” Harris elaborates, chuckling. “Pretty sure my class had like five new mums. I can send you the link to the website, if you want?”

Suddenly, Louis is hesitant to say yes, despite being the one who asked. He steps into the elevator when the door opens, thankful that there’s no one beside them in it. “Um - it’s only yoga, right? Nothing about natural birth, or scepticism about bottle feeding?”

Krystle bursts out laughing. “Fuck, don’t tell me you got that kind of antenatal class?”

Louis groans, rolling his eyes. “Shut up,” he gruffs out.

Harris doesn’t bother to hide his wince, cooing sympathetically. “Don’t worry. The yoga instructor shared with us that he did an optional C section. I believe Harry will be in good hands surrounded by good friends.”

They bid goodbye to Harris when the elevator stop at his floor. Glancing over his shoulder, he promises Louis to send the website link soon.

“You know, I’m surprised you are still here,” Krystle comments once the elevator starts whirring again. This time, to her floor.

Louis’ brows shoot up. “What do you mean?”

“You haven’t taken Harry for a babymoon, have you?”

“Oh,” Louis breathes, realisation clicking in his mind. “There’s such a thing?” At Krystle’s affirmative nod, the wheels in Louis’ head are already turning and twisting as he recalls which country they haven’t been to yet.

✩

With the yoga class for Harry sorted out, in which he found his flock of new mummy friends, the only thing left in the list before the due date is Harry’s babymoon.

Brazil is the perfect destination for them. Louis has never been there, and Harry has a fond memory in Brazil back when he was a student, backpacking with his friends that Louis is sure he will love to revisit. He even had Brazil tattooed on his thigh which means it will be a perfect surprise for his omega.

According to Oli, September and October are the best time for a vacation in Brazil, as they are most likely to avoid major holiday periods and the chilly southern winter including the rainy season in the Pantanal. The most luxurious hotels that are close to main tourist attractions are still available for booking, and the first class flight tickets are abundant. In short, it is perfect.

But Doctor Beatrice thinks otherwise.

With only six weeks of pregnancy left, she doesn’t recommend a vacation destination that requires more than eight hours of flight. She quotes a bunch of pregnancy complications that may happen including preterm labour, effectively putting a damper into Harry and Louis’ plan of going to Brazil. In the end, they decide to take their yacht, Golden, out into the Aegean Sea.

Thankfully, the four hour flight to Greece is a smooth process, and Harry wakes up elated, peering through the small aeroplane window excitedly as if they didn’t spend two weeks in Santorini last year.

“It’s different this time. We have pup with us,” he murmurs once they are settled in the back of the hired car, caressing the top of his big belly. He wears the floral Gucci sundress that Louis bought him after their first antenatal appointment. It’s no longer flowy, but rather pulled taut over his belly, but somehow Harry makes it work, and he looks as pretty as ever with his hair braided at the sides, cheeks flushed with a healthy glow.

Arriving at the dock, they both pull on their sunglasses as they stride hand in hand to where their crew is waiting. Harry usually does all the cooking while they are on their yacht but the combination of being heavily pregnant, cooking on a wavy ocean, and Harry’s bambi coordination is a disaster waiting to happen so Louis hired a temporary chef to come along with them for their five days of sailing.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the captain greets, a warm smile pasted on his lips. The beta stewardess and the alpha deckhand scurry to take Harry and Louis’ luggages to load them into the yacht.

“Good afternoon, Joni,” Harry lilts out. The smile on his face hasn’t faltered since they landed in Greece.

“Is it a good day for sailing?” Louis asks, tilting his head up to look at the bright sky.

“Yes, the weather forecast looks great. I took Golden out yesterday, and it was all smooth seas,” Joni informs compliantly.

“Shall we?” Harry interjects, tugging Louis’ hand to the yacht. The excitement seems to thrum through his veins.

Usually Harry is more than capable of jumping through the small gap between the dock and the yacht, but this time the deckhand has to pull the rope anchoring the yacht the closest he can to the dock while Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s waist from behind, giving the omega a little boost as he climbs onto the yacht deck.

“You okay?” Louis checks in once they are both on the yacht. Harry is panting and his chest rapidly goes up and down.

Harry nods, huffing through his mouth. “I can’t remember it being that hard.”

“It isn’t. You are just heavily pregnant,” Louis quips, squeezing Harry’s waist teasingly.

Harry juts his bottom lip. He wraps his arms around the nape of Louis’ neck, swaying them both to the gentle wave thumping the hull. “Thank you for my babymoon. I love you.”

Louis smiles softly, bending his head to peck a kiss on Harry’s lips. He tastes like strawberries, probably from the lip balm that he keeps on reapplying every two hours. “I love you too. Go find something to eat. I’m going to talk to Joni about the itinerary.” Harry loves exploring the islands scattered around Greece, hopping from one island to the other, hiking through the natural terrain, and Louis has to make sure that the place Joni chose isn’t as extreme as they used to go. Once, they went to Folegandros, and the trekking up to the chapel took two hours.

Harry nods, stealing another kiss before he walks to the flybridge deck, going to the kitchen area. The stairs are narrow, but Harry manages it easily, rolling his eyes when he sees Louis waiting for him at the bottom.

“Go talk to Joni. I’m safe and sound,” Harry shouts from the flybridge, giggling about something the chef told him. They are too far for Louis to make out the words, but seeing Harry perched on a bar stool, talking animatedly to the chef, Louis finally makes his way to the cockpit.

The yacht is cutting through waters, and after finalising the last bit of their itinerary for the next five days, Louis climbs the stairs to the flybridge in search of his omega. He doesn’t find Harry at the bar stool, and the new chef greets him cheerfully, pointing Louis to Harry without being prompted.

Harry is lounging on the four deck area with a bowl of salad on top of his pregnant belly, spearing through leafy greens and chewing softly. His braided hair is slightly dishevelled from the gentle wind blowing now that they are sailing, his cheeks are rosy pink from the sun and glistened with light sweat. He’s drop dead gorgeous, and Louis feels a wash of pride in his chest from being able to make his omega this happy.

“Lou…” Harry calls, patting the space beside him. “You were staring,” he comments once Louis settles beside him. He lifts his head, purses his lips, and Louis kisses him.

“Who could blame me? You are so pretty today,” Louis compliments, opening his mouth for the cherry tomato Harry has on his fork.

Harry only smiles, fitting himself under Louis’ arms as he finishes the rest of his salad.

The first day is filled with nothing but cuddles. They move from the four deck area to the galley when the sun gets too hot, and the pup in Harry’s tummy grows restless. They resituate to the sunpad on the front deck when the sun goes low, and Harry asks the captain to kill the engine while they wait for the sun to set on the horizon, hanging their legs over the platform at the rear of the yacht with their hands linked in between.

Dinner is roasted chicken with fresh herbs and lemon per Harry’s request. He brings a plate of it to their suite, settling on the small sitting space by the side deck as he instructs Louis to unpack their luggages, articulating his dresses to be hang and his bathing suits in the drawer.

They finish their night stargazing on the sunpad, and Harry falls asleep within the first fifteen minutes, snoring softly beside Louis with his pink lips parted. He looks so soft and delicate, and Louis has to litter kisses on his face before waking him up to sleep in their suite. They sleep with their legs entangled with each other for the rest of the night.

✩

One of the main selling points of Golden is how good the sound proofing is in the main suite. Louis always has the best sleep on board regardless of the weather, wave swells or water current. With no work demanding his immediate attention, he can sleep in until ten in the morning. It’s just his luck he got married to an early riser, and his omega always always has something planned.

“Alpha, wake up,” Harry whines softly, insistently nosing at Louis’ cheek. When Louis doesn’t budge, he moves down to Louis’ neck, nibbling the scent gland and leaving wet trails in his wake.

“I’m up,” Louis rasps out, reaching out for Harry’s curls without opening his eyes. He threads his fingers into Harry’s soft strands, scratching lightly at the scalp, but it’s not enough to appease the omega because Harry doesn’t stop his nibble. His teeth get sharper as he bites deeper, resulting in a painful throb at Louis’ neck.

“Baby,” Louis warns, gently pulling Harry’s roots to stop him.

Harry obliges, huffing the most exasperated noise he can muster, and Louis has to open his eyes for that. “What time is it?” He asks around a wide yawn.

“Half past five,” Harry answers nonchalantly. Not an ounce of guilt on his pretty face from waking up his alpha this early on a holiday.

Considering it’s not their first vacation in Greece, Louis has an inkling to what Harry has in mind. “Sunrise?”

“Yes!” Harry chirps, sitting up in the bed and tugging Louis’ hand along with him. “Google said the sunrise will be around six.”

Louis sighs heavily, but he nods, letting himself be pulled out of the plush bed. It doesn’t matter how cosy the bed is because Harry won’t be at his side if he decided to stay. They brush their teeth together, smushed in the tiny space of the ensuite with Harry’s big belly taking most of the space.

As he waits for Harry to wash his face, Louis kneels on the floor, cradling Harry’s belly between his hands and pressing a kiss on it. He feels a flutter underneath his lips, and he smiles. “Good morning, pup. I see you have taken after your mummy to wake up this early,” he notes fondly. Hiking Harry’s top up, Louis caresses his thumb where he can see the movement underneath Harry’s skin.

“She woke me up, you know. I didn’t set an alarm, but she kicked my belly just in time,” Harry boasts, patting the top of his tummy as if to say his pup did a good job.

Louis stands to his full height, commenting drily, “I will never sleep in again, will I?”

Linking their hands together, Harry clicks off the light switch on the wall. “Probably not,” he answers simply, dimpling as they navigate the asymmetrical side deck to go to the bow of the yacht.

The wind is a light breeze against their faces, and the ripples of the waves are graceful, gently lulling Golden on the water. The view is breathtaking with the endless expanse of Aegean Sea in front of them, washed golden from the sunrise. A little peak of the sun from the horizon makes Harry gasp softly, and he leans his head on Louis’ shoulder while rubbing his belly. His sweet honey and vanilla scent wafts through the air, mixing with the fresh scent coming from the ocean.

Seeing the pleased tilt of Harry’s lips with crescents etched deep in his cheeks is all Louis ever wanted in his life, and he finds himself in the middle of the ocean promising to do the same for their pup.

The first stop is Kythnos. Joni said that it has one of the best anchorages in the Aegean Sea, protected from all types of weather which makes it an ideal spot to dock Golden while they explore the beautiful Kolona Beach. Since they are going to spend the night anchored, Harry wants to take the opportunity to swim in the middle of the ocean.

To say that Louis is less than enthralled about the idea is an understatement. He gets the idea of swimming in the middle of the ocean when Harry is without a pup, but he’s seven months pregnant currently and his inner alpha can’t stop worrying. He trails after Harry like a lost puppy when he goes into their suite to change into his bathing suit, fruitlessly trying to convince Harry to not swim, but instead the omega makes him his fashion advisor.

“Do you think I should wear the top?” Harry asks, dangling a piece of black bikini top from the drawer.

Louis has never seen Harry in a bikini top before, and it’s a lie that the thought of it doesn’t make his cock twitch, especially with the way the butterfly tattoo across Harry’s stomach seems to stretch beautifully over his pregnant belly. But he has more pressing issues on hand, like trying to convince Harry to ditch his idea of swimming in the Aegean Sea. “Up to you, babe. Do you think you need it?”

Harry seems to mull over his answer, staring intently at the flimsy fabric in hand. Nodding as if to confirm his decision, he elaborates, “It’s just - my tits are bigger now and I feel like they will get in the way while I swim?” Shrugging his shoulders, he adds, “I always see the omegas wearing sports bras at the yoga class, so it must be nice. What’s a better time to try than the present, right?”

“Are you sure you want to swim?” Louis pipes out as Harry trades his midi white dress for the black bikini top and a matching bottom.

Harry bobs his head, oblivious to the current turmoil he’s causing Louis. Or maybe he does, but he barely cares. “Can you help me, please?” He asks, turning his back to Louis.

Louis clicks the metal clasp of the back straps, and Harry tugs the strap on his shoulder to adjust the front. He cups his own tits in hand, whipping his head to Louis, eyes wide with excitement, “Tell me why I have never done this before? It’s so comfy. I love the support it provides,” he exclaims, admiring his reflection on the mirror. “Are you coming?” Harry asks, casting a curious look at Louis’ outfit.

“If you insist on swimming, best believe I will come with you,” Louis grumbles begrudgingly, tugging the neck of his white t-shirt. Harry readily accepts the t-shirt and the shorts, expertly folding them while standing, placing them on the bed beside his discarded dress. He hands Louis his swimming trunks, dimpling giddily over the fact it’s the pair that he bought for Louis.

Together, they walk to the platform, and Louis eyes the calm water lapping at the sides of the yacht.

“It’s not our first time, you know,” Harry assures Louis, grimacing at the life jacket being offered to him. “I don’t need it.”

It’s true. It’s not the first time they swam out here, but Harry wasn’t pregnant back then. He also loves to jump from the side deck, but Louis has decided that he will stand his ground and say no if Harry insists on it. It’s just too dangerous. He should have known his omega won’t let himself be hindered from doing their usual activity.

This holiday is supposed to be for Harry, so Louis tries to calm down his overbearing alpha instincts even as it seems to rattle his heart and chest.

“Stay close to me,” Louis says, his tone stern and leaving no room for argument.

Harry pouts, but he nods, tossing the life jacket back to its place. He sits on the platform, utilising the ladder the deckhand installed specifically for him to get into the water. Finally floating in the water, Harry sighs happily, dimples deep in his rosy cheeks.

“I won’t be mad if you jump, you know…” Harry drawls. The water is blue, clear and Louis can see the soft flutter of Harry’s legs treading the water. Somehow, it eases the worry in his chest. “Jump from the side, I will wait for you,” the omega prompts, and he grins when Louis gives in.

It’s a precarious thing, balancing your body on the side of the swaying yacht, but Louis manages to do it, and he dives into the water hands first where his omega is waiting.

Harry cheers, raising his hands in the air and all, claiming, “I’m not jealous at all.”

Louis chuckles, switching to float on his back. “Sure, babe. Anything to help you sleep at night.”

Harry loves the buoyancy that the dense sea water gives him. It doesn’t take much energy to float, taking off the weight of the pup he’s carrying. They stay until their fingers are all pruny, and Harry can’t stay any longer in the water after that, pouting over the wrinkly skin of his hands.

“Dry skin is a disaster for stretch marks,” Harry whines as he swims back to the ladder.

The chef prepares chicken wraps and prawn crisps for lunch which they both devour in the flybridge, covered under the shade so they don’t have to squint at each other while eating. Joni informs them that Kolona Beach is twenty nautical miles away, and the twelve wind knot makes it possible for them to sail for the whole journey.

“I’m going to sunbathe,” Harry says, standing up from the dining area and stretching his arms lazily. He pulls his sunglasses from his curls to the bridge of his nose. “Can you grab my sunscreen from the suite?”

Louis nods, tilting his head up for a kiss. He keeps an eye on Harry, who carefully navigates the front deck and the narrow stairs to get to the sunpad, one hand constantly holding on to the side of the yacht and the other on his belly.

Once Louis finishes his wraps and the prawn crisps Harry left for him, he brings the plates to the kitchen, easily brushing off his chef’s surprise. His mom taught him better than to leave dishes laying around after a meal, no matter who he employed.

Checking in with Joni on his way to the suite, Louis grabs the sunscreen from Harry’s side of the bed. Harry has things littered on his shelf, from body butter for stretch marks, moisturising lotion for dry, chapped skin, to two types of sunscreen – one for his face and the other for his body. Either he doesn’t care about wave swells that might cause his stuff to fall, or he has limitless trust in Golden’s stability treading the current.

Coming back to the sunpad, Louis chuckles seeing Harry all but curled up on his side, one hand cradling his round belly. He must have fallen asleep, too exhausted from the swimming he did, so much for that tanning he planned for. Louis settles beside Harry, pressing soft kisses on Harry’s forehead and hair.

Harry rouses awake, letting out a dreamy sigh. One dimple pops on his cheek. “Lou…”

“Do you want me to reapply your sunscreen?” Louis murmurs, smoothing Harry’s unruly curls from his forehead. All this wind is making Harry’s curls dishevelled, regardless of how well he braided his hair in the morning. Louis loves it though. Loves how Harry seems to be so carefree during vacation that he doesn’t bother fixing his hair every hour. It’s a beautiful side of the posh, sophisticated omega Louis is married to.

Harry hums as he turns on his back, making it easier for Louis to apply the sunscreen on his skin. Louis flips the cap of the bottle open and squirts a decent amount on his palm, applying it on Harry’s arms first. He moves to the curve of Harry’s chest next, hands delicate as to not hurt Harry’s sensitive tits. The pup is coming soon, and to witness the bloom of Harry’s chest is truly wonderful. The way they fill the bikini cups perfectly, and the nice weight they have. Not to mention the way they bounce when Harry rides him – all soft and supple.

“Lou…” Harry rasps out. He pulls his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose, meeting Louis’ eyes. “Do you think you can finger me?” He bats his eyelashes innocently, as if his request isn’t lewd.

Louis scoffs, shaking his head. “No,” he answers curtly.

Harry juts his bottom lip, asking for sympathy. “But - I’m very very horny,” he confesses in a low voice. He shamelessly spreads his legs, pleading, “Please. We are in the middle of nowhere.”

“We have a crew on board with us, baby,” Louis reminds him gently, ignoring the empty space between Harry’s legs as he applies the sunscreen to Harry’s belly, making sure that he doesn’t miss any spots. His omega is so easily sunburned, and they have three more days of sailing. The last thing they both need is something that can ruin Harry’s jovial mood.

Harry lifts his head, eyes roving over the flybridge. “But there’s no one right here with us,” he counters, his voice soft and needy. “Please… I promise I will be very quiet.”

“If you insist so much, let’s go to the suite,” Louis replies, squirting more sunscreen on his palm and working his way down Harry’s legs, pointedly ignoring the bulge in Harry’s ruffled bikini bottom. The nylon fabric only serves to accentuate everything, and if Louis scrutinises long enough, he knows he can make out the outline of Harry’s cockhead.

“But I don’t want to move. I’m so comfortable.” Rubbing his belly, he tucks his head to his chest. “You know how hard it is for me to lay comfortably now.”

Louis snorts. Of course Harry would pull the heavily pregnant card. He never fights fair. Louis ignores him, resuming the task on hand, and he bites back a smile at hearing Harry’s frustrated groan.

Harry squirms impatiently, crossing his arms against his chest like a petulant toddler. “You are so mean to your pregnant omega. You know I would have done it myself if I could reach my hole, right?”

“And whose fault is that?” Louis quips. “Turn to your side, babe.”

Harry lets out a loud gasp, making no effort to switch his position. There’s a determined clench to his jaw, and he glares at Louis before pushing his sunglasses up to the bridge of his nose.

“What if I cry?”

Louis can’t help it. He laughs. “You want to cry because I won’t finger you?”

“Well, yes!” Harry grunts through gritted teeth and bats Louis’ hand away when he tries to manhandle Harry, making a point. “I don’t know why you are so reluctant. It’s not like we never do it in public. We have sex in your office all the time.”

“What happened to ‘pup can hear us’?” Louis teases, managing to roll Harry to his side even his omega sets on making his body a dead weight. Harry is easy during pregnancy, and even if he isn’t, like the omega said, it’s not the first time they have sex out in public. The middle of the ocean with every crew member in the main deck is still better isolated than his office, where anyone can come knocking at any time. Giving in, Louis promises, “Let me finish this, then I will finger you.”

Harry squeaks in delight, tipping his head up so he can peck a kiss on Louis’ lips.

Fingering Harry while the omega is wearing a bikini bottom is so - effortless. Louis only has to pull the stretchy fabric to the side and he can easily slip his finger into Harry’s waiting hole. It takes Harry less than fifteen minutes to fall apart, his promise to be quiet is lost on him when the precipice of orgasm is right before him. He comes with a loud mewl, thighs trembling from the sheer force of it. He offers his warm hand for Louis, eyes green and mischievous, and Louis takes him up on his offer.

At the sight of Kythnos, Louis goes down to the main deck before any of the crew can come up. If he thinks they were being loud, Joni clearly thinks otherwise. He meets Louis’ eyes like he heard nothing (and maybe he really didn’t) while Harry freshens up, changing into a new dress for their dinner at the restaurant in Kythnos. After their little shameless rendezvous, Harry searches for a restaurant that oversees the sea for their dinner on his phone, elated to find an array of choices with the kind of view he likes. He settles on a restaurant in the Kolona Beach.

Joni promises that Kolona Beach doesn’t have steep trails, and it’s a less crowded, hidden-gem island with fine, golden sand to explore. Getting to the beach still requires a dinghy though, and it takes almost all hands on deck for them to assist Harry jumping safely into the dinghy.

Harry keeps on insisting that he doesn’t need that much help, but his squawks every time their yacht sways makes them think otherwise. The beach of Kolona is a narrow strip of land that connects Kythnos to the islet of Agios Loukas, and because Harry is Harry, despite being thirty-two weeks pregnant, he insisted on walking through the strip of land, fascinated over the sea lapping at both of its sides.

“Lou, that’s Golden, right?” Harry asks, pointing to one of the yachts anchored close to Kolona Beach.

Louis has to squint his eyes for several seconds before humming in agreement.

Harry stops in the middle of his tracks to pull out his phone, clicking several pictures of the view, including tugging Louis to pose. “Do you know how hot you look right now?” He asks rhetorically before citing every reasons, counting them off with his fingers, “With your polo shirt, your shorts and your sunglasses, and your yacht in the view behind you. I know I married you for a reason.”

Louis snorts, smiling at the camera. “I’m not going to have sex with you on the beach,” he says wryly.

Harry lets out a loud gasp, a hand to his chest like he wasn’t the one who asked Louis to finger him not more than two hours ago. “What kind of omega do you take me for?” He chastises, furrowing his brows. The flush on his cheeks betray him though, and he giggles sweetly when Louis smacks his bum.

The rest of their babymoon is filled with leisure activities in the Cyclades in the Aegean Sea – swimming through shallow water to go to see the crystal like water in the caves, trying new restaurants with different, but equally picturesque views every night, and exploring the new islands they are anchored to every day. It’s also filled with more kisses and giggles, Harry’s loud cheer as he encourages Louis to do cliff jumping and the unabashed, sneaky sex that Harry prompts at the most unsuspecting times.

On their last night in Mykonos, Louis rents out a suite in a particular hotel that clings to soaring cliffs, knowing how much Harry will appreciate the view that comes with their room. He brings Harry out for a private candle light dinner, the two of them swaying to soft instrumental music coming from the sound system in the restaurant. They take a walk on the beach with their hands intertwined after, murmuring to each other what their life will look like two months from now.

Louis can’t wait for their pup’s arrival, and he squeezes Harry’s hand, flicking his eyes to his mate who’s already staring and dimpling at him.

EPILOGUE

HARRY

Isadora Leigh Tomlinson was born exactly a day before her due date. She weighed 7.3 pounds, and the labour took over sixteen hours, in which Louis was there for every minute of it, holding Harry’s hand. She had dark blue eyes when she was born and the real colour started to surface as she grew older.

By the time she celebrated her one year birthday, her eyes were as green as her mother’s and her curls were as bouncy if not more than Harry’s were. Her dimples, deep in her cheeks, are unmistakably Harry’s.

For every part of her that resembled Harry, she was undoubtedly Louis’. She started crawling towards Louis first rather than her favourite toy at nine months old, toddling her way to the entryway when she heard Louis’ voice coming back from work at ten months old, and her first word was Dada at eleven months old. She slept best when Louis sang her lullabies before bedtime, and she was only soothed by Louis’ presence every time she cried.

It used to make Harry tear up, tugging at his delicate heartstrings at how blatant Isadora’s favouritism was while he was the one who spent his days with her. As she grew older, however, they bonded over the fact that they were both obsessed with their alpha.

Because honestly, how can they not?

For someone who didn’t even plan for a pup, Louis was the best daddy anyone could ask for. He loved Isadora to pieces, even spoiled her too much for Harry’s taste. He also spent his nights after work going through Isadora’s night routine, the one who taught her how to brush her teeth, buttoned her pyjamas, and laced her shoes.

It’s been five years since Isadora came into their life, and they both have never been happier.

✩

“Mummy, do you think daddy will like this?” Isadora pipes out from where she’s perched on a plush chair while they wait for Louis’ bespoke suit order to be wrapped. On a coffee table in front of her is a tray of cufflinks with various styles.

Apparently, Isadora also inherited Harry’s penchant for buying things for Louis. This is not the first time she thinks of Louis while out shopping with Harry. It’s endearing, in a way Harry just hopes that she will also remember him when she goes out with Louis. For now, doubtful. “Which one, bub?”

“This one,” Isadora points persistently to a pair of square-shaped cufflinks.

“It’s made of polished brass,” the alpha sales assistant, Jimmy, standing at the side supplies helpfully.

Tilting her head up at the sales assistant, Isadora queries, “Can I have daddy’s name on it, please?” Before Jimmy can say anything else, she blabbers, “I think my daddy will like it. Daddy’s name is Louis Tomlinson. Right, mummy?”

Jimmy chuckles fondly, nodding his head, and Harry can’t help the surge of pride that blooms in his chest. His pup is the sweetest little girl.

“We have several engraving styles if you want to look through the catalogue?” Jimmy questions, turning his head from Isadora to Harry.

“Yes, please,” Harry answers, smiling at the delighted squeal Isadora lets out.

Thankfully the engraving is done on-site, and two hours later they are on their way home with Louis’ bespoke suit and a new pair of engraved cufflinks, chosen by their daughter.

It’s not every day, but sometimes, Isadora drives Harry mad. Tonight is one of those nights.

“Can you at least eat a couple of bites?” Harry coaxes gently, spearing the lettuce leaves on a fork and handing it to Isadora. He made cajun chicken pasta with a side of caesar salad tonight. Isadora is not a picky eater. She will eat whatever vegetables Harry cooked, all with the exception of artichokes. But that all changed after learning Louis is coming back late tonight. She makes a fuss, pouting and whining about everything regarding the meal. The pasta is not creamy enough, the chicken is too tender (if there’s even such a thing), and now she refuses to eat even a bite of the salad that Harry made.

“I used the garlic bread we made last Sunday. Turned them into croutons. You love croutons, right bub?” Harry entices, and he almost chuckles at the way Isadora’s green eyes light up, sitting up in her seat as she eyes the bowl of fresh caesar salad in front of her. She wants to eat it so badly, but she’s trying to make a point, which Harry can relate to. He’s been there a couple of times. But the point she’s making is not for Harry, it’s for Louis – who is not here.

Harry almost squeals in triumph when Isadora picks up her spoon, only to be disappointed when his daughter carefully scoops up the croutons, avoiding all kinds of lettuce like a plague. She eats three bites of croutons before settling her spoon on her plate once again.

Harry takes a deep breath. Whoever Isadora takes after, whether he or Louis – he has no idea how their mums handled them when they were young pups. “You know that daddy -” He is about to set off on a lengthy nag about how Louis isn’t here to see Isadora throwing a tantrum, and maybe if she wants to do it so much, do it to Louis while he prepares her for bed when the sound of the front door opening greets his ear.

The change in Isadora’s manner is like magic, unbelievably fast and impossible to fathom. No one will believe how absurd her grin is just from hearing Louis coming through the front door unless they witness it themselves. She’s just – obsessed with daddy.

“Daddy!” Isadora shrieks once Louis steps into the dining area. “Have you had dinner?”

Louis’ smiles is soft. His eyes are tired, but he comes around the table and kisses the crown of Isadora’s head, pressing a hello kiss to Harry’s lips. “Hello, pup. I had my dinner with Aunt Krystle before coming back. What are you doing still at the table, hmm? I thought you must have showered by now.”

“Waiting for you,” Isadora replies sweetly at the same time Harry grumbles, “She doesn’t want to eat her vegetables.”

Louis flicks his eyes to Harry, an amused glint in his blue irises. He could have guessed what happened just from Harry’s sullen tone. Loosening his tie with one hand, Louis pulls the chair beside Isadora, prompting gently, “Let’s eat your veggies, okay? Mummy must be tired from doing all the cooking, and we don’t want to hurt mummy’s feelings, okay?”

Isadora bobs her head, readily accepting the bowl of caesar salad that Louis hands her; the exact bowl Harry ceaselessly tried to feed her for the past half an hour. She takes the fork, pulling the lettuce between her teeth. Averting her gaze to Harry, she mumbles sheepishly, “I’m sorry, mummy.”

How can Harry continue being grumpy when his pup is so sweet to him? “It’s okay, bub. You just miss daddy. I know,” he reassures her, standing up and planting a kiss on Isadora’s curls. “I’m going to do the dishes,” he informs Louis, knowing that Isadora will finish her salad with Louis by her side. She’s such a daddy’s girl.

It’s unfair sometimes how much she clings to every word coming out of Louis’ mouth. Although, to think about it, Harry might have himself to blame for that too. He has been always been crazy in love with Louis, but during his pregnancy, it became a whole new level.

He was downright obsessed.

✩

It’s a blissful Saturday, and Harry lets himself sleep in. No yoga or meditation to catch up on. Having a pup undeniably changed his schedule, and he likes to bask in the warmth of his alpha whenever he can on weekends. Keeping the workout sessions and yoga only on the weekdays.

Harry’s internal alarm clock wakes him up at precisely six in the morning, and he has been staring at Louis ever since. The way Louis’ long eyelashes graze the top of his cheeks, the three dots of freckles at the side of his nose that can only be seen when you are mere inches from his face, and the relaxed, soft line of his forehead. His cheekbones are strong and sharp, and in the rising morning light, it makes him look like one of those sculpted Greek gods.

Harry is in love. It’s been seven years, and Harry is still in love if not more than the day they were bonded.

Harry can feel the consciousness creeping into his alpha, the way Louis’ hand on the dip of his waist twitches, and the gentle squeeze that follows. He smiles softly, and without opening his eyes, he murmurs, “Good morning, baby.”

“Good morning, alpha,” Harry rasps out, voice gravelly from unused. He has been awake for more than an hour, but it’s the first sentence that comes out of his mouth this morning. He’s too busy being mesmerised by Louis.

Louis blinks his eyes open, and Harry’s breath hitches. He has woken up to those blue irises for seven years and yet it still takes his breath away every day. They always look so blue in the morning, reminding Harry of the bright blue sky that London so desperately needs some days.

“What are you thinking?” Louis queries, tucking a stray curl to the back of Harry’s ear.

“Just how blue your eyes are,” Harry admits. He doesn’t miss the flush rising on Louis’ cheeks, and the way the crinkles by his eyes deepen from the unexpected compliment. Harry leans in for a kiss before pulling back to admire more of Louis’ face.

“Come here.” Louis pulls Harry closer by the hold he has on Harry’s waist. He goes willingly, burying his face in the crook of Louis’ neck and taking a deep inhale. Louis’ smell is intoxicating, like freshly cut grass and petrichor, a hint of it rooted to Isadora. But under all the fresh, citrusy smell of alpha, there’s an undertone of sweetness to his scent — a particular saccharine honey and sweet vanilla that comes from being bonded to Harry.

Louis smells like home.

Their chests press close, and Harry purrs contentedly, licking at the scent gland on the side of Louis’ neck. He presses his smile into Louis’ skin when he feels Louis intertwine their legs together, hands gliding down to Harry’s hip. He brushes Harry’s shin with his as a soft rumble starting from his chest.

It’s a perfect way to wake up.

That is until a high-pitched voice breaks their tranquillity.

“Good morning. Can I come in, please?” The voice inquires, rapping the door impatiently.

Harry groans at the same time Louis chuckles. “Good morning. You can come in, pup.”

The calm in the room slowly being sucked out of the room the moment the master bedroom door opens. It starts with a soft pitter-patter against the floorboard, a sharp inhale upon seeing Harry cuddled up to Louis, a grunt upon climbing into Harry’s side of the bed, and a whine when Harry stays put in his place.

“Mummy! Move, please! I want to snuggle with daddy too.”

Harry bites back a snarky comment that not all sentences ending with please are polite. Louis was the one who taught her that, and like black magic, it was instilled in Isadora since she was one year old. It’s especially not polite when Harry is so cosy being in Louis’ arms.

A loud sniffle comes, and a needy plead of, “Daddy…”

It doesn’t take beyond that for Louis to break the embrace, scooting back to put some distance between them. Isadora climbs over Harry’s thighs to get to the newly empty spot, chirping happily when she gets to rest her head on Louis’ bicep.

“Daddy, can we go to the zoo today?”

“You have to ask mummy. I’m not sure what he has planned for us today.”

Isadora turns to Harry, green eyes big and hopeful. “Please, mummy? We haven’t been there for a while.”

“We went there just two weeks ago, bub,” Harry reminds her. Since the first visit to the zoo a little over a year ago with Lottie and Lucky, Isadora hasn’t stopped asking to go there. Hence, why their family has a gold membership with unlimited visits to the zoo for a year. She will spend hours staring at the same five giraffes, taking the same pictures in the same spot of Tiger Territory every visit, and squealing at the very same sleeping lions. It’s all very adorable, and because she is placated by the presence of animals around her, she forgets about Louis a little. She lets Harry and Louis hold hands without trying to be in the middle and stops asking for kisses every time Harry gets one.

“But, I really miss the giraffes. Please, mummy?”

It’s a fairly easy decision, so Harry mumbles, “Yes.”

The answer makes Isadora giggle, and she pecks a kiss on Harry’s cheek before doing the same to Louis. “I’m going to find a pretty outfit for today,” she announces before leaping off the bed with Louis holding on to her waist. She’s a little big for that but of course, Louis always overindulges her, and she lets him, embraces it even.

“Something warm, Isa. I think it’s going to be cold today,” Harry shouts after her, wincing when he hears her indiscernible answer. He knows it will be another fight to get her to change into something warm later. Luckily, he has Louis with him today.

This time around, Harry pulls Louis to him, sighing dreamily when he gets to use Louis’ bicep as a pillow, and burrows his face once again into the crook of Louis’ neck.

“Did you just agree to go to the zoo again just so you could score more cuddle time with me?” Louis asks, an amused undertone laced into his question.

“Yes,” Harry quips, elaborating primly, “This is my time.”

Louis snorts. He cards his fingers through Harry’s curls. “Can you believe Isa is turning six next year? She’s growing up so fast,” he murmurs wistfully. “Do you think we should have another pup?”

Harry pulls back from Louis’ neck. His brows knitted and his lips are in a thin, displeased line. “Have you met her? No,” he deadpans. “No more pups. She’s the one and only.”

Apart from the thought of having to share Louis with another person, the sixteen hours of labour is also enough of a reminder that Harry isn’t ready to go through it all over again. Plus, Isadora also has three cousins around her age that she’s close to.

Louis lets out a loud chortle, and Harry bats his chest, not amused in the slightest. He rolls on top of Louis, smirking down at his alpha mischievously as he feels Louis’ morning wood poking his belly. “How long do you think Isa will take to choose her outfit? Long enough to sneak in a quickie?”

Harry doesn’t give Louis any time answer, but instead he slips his hand into Louis’ shorts, grinning when Louis bucks up into it.