Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The only thing Harry can focus on is the way he can see his own skin through the hole in his jeans. They’re the only pair he owns. His mum had offered to buy him a new pair of trousers specifically for this job interview, but he felt incredibly guilty, especially since he has no real guarantee of even getting the job.

The room he’s sitting in is worn down. The walls are painted a dull gray color, and the windows are tinted with dust and grime. The room itself is infested with bugs. Harry tries not to think about how this office is a little suspicious looking, instead focusing on the job application in his hands. He rereads what he’s written for the third time before finally getting up and handing it over to the lady behind the front desk. He isn’t exactly sure what he’s signed up to do. It’s something to do with babies, which he absolutely adores, but that’s about all he knows.

That, and he’ll be getting paid a ton of money, which is really the only reason why he’s still sitting in this chair. If it weren’t for the promise of money, he’d be out of this dilapidated building fast.

He, his mum and sister are poor, you see. He has been working numerous jobs with barely enough time to catch up on sleep, and despite his best efforts, it simply isn’t enough to keep his family out of poverty. They sold their house, opting for a small apartment instead and even though it’s the cheapest thing they could find, it’s still out of their budget. He fears their apartment will eventually turn into a box in the street.

So when a man approached him one day at the bakery with a radiant smile and a promise of good money, there was no doubt in Harry’s mind whether to accept the job offer or not. He didn’t hesitate to even fill out the application, seeing that it was a job listed as ‘babysitter.’ It was the perfect job for him, really. He loved taking care of children. And he was getting paid. How much better could it get?

He bounces his leg up and down anxiously as he toys with a thread on his shirt. He’s supposed to meet his boss now and he can’t shake the feeling of self consciousness. There are holes in his jeans. And he probably looks a little shaggy. And he’s got a stain on his shirt, but it’s the only button up he owns so he can’t go home and change it.

“Harry Styles?”

The young teen looks up to meet a greasy old man with a balding head. His smile is missing a few teeth and the ones that are still there are yellow from, presumably, smoking. Harry straightens himself out, standing up eagerly, though his legs feel like jell-o from the uncertainty. He knows not to judge someone right away, but there’s a feeling in his stomach that seems to weigh him down and he can’t seem to shake it away.

“Welcome,” the man—Harry’s new boss—continues. His breath smells like cigarettes. Harry nearly gags, but he figures that’s probably a really bad first impression, so he decides to hold his breath instead. “I’m glad you’ve decided to join our company. Come to the back and I will inform you of your duties.”

His boss lays his hand gently across Harry’s back, guiding him to a makeshift office that’s separated from the waiting room with only dirty rags that hang from the wood beams in the ceiling. Harry almost wants to laugh at the poorly designed office space, but the nerves in his stomach prevent him from doing so. That, and he really needs this job.

“Take a seat, take a seat,” he says, gesturing to the small plastic chair set up in front of the desk. It takes up the majority of the room. “I’m so glad to see you, Harry. I’m Jeff. It’s great to meet you.”

He holds out his hand to shake and Harry nervously takes it in his own. The jitters in Harry’s stomach continue to grow larger. Maybe coming to this interview was a mistake.
“Thank you for your time,” he says instead, his voice wavering only a little. He wants to smack himself over the head.

“I’m glad that you showed up. I know this office isn’t much, but the main one is on the other side of the country. It’s a lot nicer and more expensive-looking than this one. This is more or less a temporary office space for the time being.”

Harry merely nods his head in acknowledgement, still having doubts about coming to the interview.

“So,” Jeff says loudly, causing Harry to jump. “I know this isn’t the typical interview. Usually, workers would have some sort of idea what they’d be doing before they apply, but as far as I’m concerned, the only information that you know is that you’ll be working for a babysitting company. Am I correct?”

“Yes, sir,” he whispers.

Jeff lets out a hearty chuckle, making Harry furrow his eyebrows in confusion. That is not the type of reaction he was expecting. Why is he laughing? What has he gotten himself into?

“Well, my boy, this company is about teaching teenagers the importance of responsibility—what it’s like to have a child, to raise a child—in case, god forbid, something of that sort were to happen as a teen.”

Harry stays quiet, still confused as to what he’s doing here. Is he expected to become a teacher and preach to irresponsible teenagers in a high school? He hates talking about condoms and oh god—would he have to give young teens The Talk?

“You see,” Jeff continues, “we obviously can’t take young babies away from their own families—that would be against the law and unethical. And the electronic babies are just so…” he stops midsentence to wave his hand in the air, trying to think of a word. “unreliable. So, to make up for this minor difficulty, we pay people to act like babies so the teens will have a more…hands-on experience, if you will.”

Harry freezes in his seat. “I-I’m sorry?” he chokes out.

“You will live with a teenager and act like their baby so he or she understands how important it is to take care of their own child in the near future.”

Harry shakes his head, standing up abruptly from his seat and letting it clatter against the cold, tile floor. “No way,” he states. “There is no way in hell I’m acting like a baby. I’m not doing that. You can find someone else.”

He starts to walk out the door before Jeff clucks his tongue. “Now, now, Harry. You’ve signed a contract already. You owe us at least three months.”

Harry freezes in his steps, his heart beating faster against his chest.

“You should’ve read the terms and conditions before signing,” Jeff says, “and I’m sure you would really like the amount of money you get paid. Surely, your family needs it.”
Harry sucks on his bottom lip, letting his chin drop down to his chest. “What do I have to do?” he whispers.

---

It only took Harry a day to be properly trained for his new job. People would come in and talk to him, telling him about feeding, and nappies, and bathing. They told him about punishments, and bed times, and toys. The whole time they talked to him, Harry was shaking with fear and his cheeks stayed a permanent red color. It took only two days for the company to find a troubled teen, Louis, and assigns Harry to be with him.

It’s midday now. Louis is supposed to pick him up any minute and Harry’s shaking like a leaf. In only a matter of seconds, Harry’s sense of privacy and independency are going to be violated and changed. He’s no longer going to feed himself. He won’t be able to bathe himself. Someone else is going to have to change him into his pajamas and day time clothes. He can’t even use a toilet anymore!

Harry’s cheeks burn in humiliation at the thought. He’s already dreading the moment where he has to get changed. He knows for a fact that he’s going to do anything in his power to use his nappy as little as he can.

“There he is,” Jeff tells Harry. He grabs the boy’s hand in his own, pulling him towards the front door while Harry digs his heels into the ground. “Oh baby, you don’t have to be nervous. He’s going to be great.”

But Harry wants nothing to do with Louis. He screams and attempts to jerk his wrist out of Jeff’s hand, but his boss only tightens his grip. “Let me go!” he cries.
He knows it’s futile. He also knows somewhere in the back of his mind that putting up a fight won’t win him anything. He signed a contract, and from what he understands, there’s no way out of it until the three months are up.

It’s then that Harry realizes that maybe he could be fired from his job if he fights every single aspect.

So he continues to scream and cry against Jeff, who has now taken it upon himself to carry Harry out to Louis’ car with his diaper bag—Harry hates that he even has one of those—slung off his shoulder.

“Louis,” Jeff says, “it’s wonderful to meet you.”

Harry becomes quiet suddenly, opening his eyes to see a young man with bright blue eyes and wispy hair. His skin is naturally tanned, and all Harry wants to do is stare at him in admiration. He’s just so handsome and so…pretty. Instantly, Harry’s face flushes, feeling absolutely mortified that this man—a beautiful one who appears to be only a few years older than he is—is going to be taking care of Harry as if he’s a little, defenseless baby.

“I’d say the same, but I’m not exactly excited to meet you so…” Louis’ voice drifts off, his expression hardening when he sees the diaper bag hanging off Jeff’s shoulder. “I guess I’ll see you in a month,” he adds on, already getting ready to get back in his car.

Jeff clears his throat, giving Louis a pointed look at Harry before looking back at the car. “New daddies have to help their babies with the car seat, Louis.”

A car seat! Harry has to sit in a car seat? He’s seventeen years old! He has legs longer than a giraffe’s neck, and he has to sit in a car seat? There is no way in hell he’s going to be sat in one.

“No!” he screams. He struggles against Jeff’s arms, flailing around and shoving against his chest. He just wants to be put down, so he can run away. If he runs far enough, maybe the company will never find him and he’ll be out of the contract.

“He’s being a little fussy,” Jeff says over Harry’s crying, “so I’ll get him into his car seat this one time.” He bounces him in his arms as he walks closer to the side of the car, promptly opening the door. “He usually behaves much better than this.”

Jeff gently buckles Harry into the car seat, despite Harry’s constant struggle against him, and when he’s finally all safe and ready to go, he closes the door and waves from the front step. Harry watches him wave through his tears. He promised himself that he wouldn’t cry, no matter how embarrassing things get. But he’s suddenly realizing how much he’s going to be breaking that promise as he lets out the first tear.

He feels absolutely ashamed of himself.

He’s seventeen years old, yet he’s sitting in a booster seat in the back of a minivan. He has a diaper bag lying on the ground beside him, acting as a constant reminder that he’s going to be wearing one of those dreaded nappies within the next hour when they get back to Louis’ house. He has no freedom.

He feels like shit.

“Let me out!” he cries as Louis locks the door and starts to back out of the driveway. “Please. I-I can’t do this. I don’t want to be here.”

Louis watches him in the rearview mirror, his eyebrows furrowed. “That makes two of us.”

And okay. Harry supposes that makes him feel a little better. “Please let me go,” he begs. His voice breaks on the sentence, making his already pink cheeks darken significantly in embarrassment. “Just drop me off and I promise I won’t say anything.”

Louis shakes his head, keeping his eyes trained on the road in front of him. “Look,” he says. “I don’t want to do this anymore than you do, Harry. I’m not even having a child. Me mum is having another baby and she wants me to be more responsible with them, and somehow she stumbled across this company.” He glances at Harry through the rearview mirror, and Harry immediately looks away, too embarrassed to be seen with tear stains on his cheeks. “But I can’t just drop you off here. Like you, I also have a contract and I can’t afford to break it, alright?”

Harry toys with the buckle in the middle of his chest, trying desperately to get out of the contraption. There’s a big lock in the front, and he instantly hates how he can’t even get himself out of the damn thing. He feels like it’s slowly starting to suffocate him.

“They don’t have to know,” he mumbles out, sniffling a little as he says it.

Louis doesn’t say anything in return and Harry thinks he’s just being rude. He seems like the type. He huffs out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning. If Louis wants to play the silent treatment, then Harry can certainly play the game just as good as Louis can. He turns his attention to the window, already feeling another round of tears make their way into his eyes. He angrily wipes them away, and then pathetically whimpers when he realizes that this is his life now.

This is reality. He’s actually going to live through this. He doesn’t know how he’s going to survive three months of this torture. Louis doesn’t want anything to do with him, and he doesn’t know if that makes him feel better or worse.

“You’re right,” Louis says finally. Harry looks at him, raising his eyebrows slightly. He can feel his heart already start to swell in joy, and he knows it’s stupid to let himself get so hopeful.

“You’re letting me go?”

“No,” Louis says flatly. Harry cries and kicks his feet out, hoping to kick the seat in front of him. He misses, which only makes him angrier. “But I’ve been thinking. The company wouldn’t know if you were being babied or not if they’re not there.”

Harry slowly starts to smile, already liking Louis a whole lot more. “You mean I don’t have to act like a baby?”

Louis shakes his head, already throwing the key that unlocks the car seat at Harry. Harry nearly cries tears of happiness as he catches it.

And so what if he does.

An hour later, Louis and Harry are sitting on the couch. Their socks are kicked off their feet, there are crumbs sitting on their chests, and the TV is playing loudly behind them. There is not one ounce of responsibility in the room. And Harry is completely okay with all of this.

He likes that he can laugh and play games with Louis. He likes that he can feel comfortable around the boy. It’s only been an hour with him, yet he already feels like there’s some kind of unexplainable connection between them. He doesn’t know what it is, or how he feels about it. But he knows that he likes the way Louis will toss grapes at him whenever he says something stupid. Or the way he flicks his hair out of his eyes when he doesn’t know what to say.

He could definitely get used to this.

“Can you believe that we get to live in this house for free?” Louis asks, trying to catch a grape in his mouth. He misses, and Harry giggles as he watches it bounce off his chin and falls onto the floor. “Oi,” Louis shouts, chucking it at Harry’s face and making him grin.

Harry truly couldn’t believe it though. The company gives each couple their own house in a neighborhood, specifically made for Littles and their parents. It’s a pretty standard house, besides the fact that it has specified nurseries, toy rooms, and baby bathrooms.

“I’m getting paid to live here, you peasant.”

Louis rolls his eyes, throwing another grape up in the air and holding up his index fingers up as he actually catches it in his mouth this time. “Whatever,” he says, “we’re going to have a lad’s time here. Get away from all me sisters.”

Harry smiles. He’s noticed, from even the small amount of time that he’s spent with Louis, that he talks about his family a lot. He always seems to claim that they’re a ‘right pain in the ass,’ but Harry never misses the way his eyes seem to sparkle whenever he mentions them. Harry likes it when his eyes sparkle.

Just as he’s about to ask Louis about his sisters, there’s a knock on the door. Both boys immediately turn their heads to the window, raising their eyebrows when they see a black van in the driveway.

“Louis,” a woman says as soon as he opens the door. Harry peers over the top of couch, watching curiously as she takes a step into the house without being invited in.

“Excuse me,” Louis says, trying to block her body with his. “I don’t ever recall inviting you in, and I certainly don’t know who you are. So if you will,” he says, gesturing with his hands towards the door.

She shakes her head, brushing past him and walking towards the family room where Harry’s currently sitting. She purses her lips, glancing at the dirty socks lying on the floors, the miscellaneous grapes sitting on tables, and finally, her eyes find Harry’s body, noticing the way he’s still in his jeans and t-shirt. Harry crosses his arms over his body, feeling all too aware that he has a juice stain on the front of his shirt from the grapes.

“I’m Valerie from The Babysitting Company,” she says, turning back to face Louis. She gives him a hard glare. Louis rocks on his feet. “I don’t suppose you realize that we have cameras in this house, hm? It doesn’t seem like you boys are following directions.” Louis gapes at her. It’s the first time Harry has ever seen Louis at a loss of words. “I’ll take that as a no.”

She picks up the discarded items lying on the floor, throwing them all into the trash can. She mumbles under her breath, something about hating her job and stupid boys. Harry can see why she would say that.

“Harry, you need to go upstairs and get yourself ready. Louis, you’re coming with me so we can expose you to the desired headspace that you need.”

Harry feels his blood stop cold in his veins. There are butterflies fluttering in his stomach, and it isn’t the same as the kind that Louis gives him. No, these ones hurt. And he does not like them. He watches Valerie put her hand on the small of Louis’ back, pushing him towards the door as the older boy struggles against her.
“No,” he says, “I’m not going. This is stupid, and dumb and—”

“Louis,” she interrupts, “you’ve signed a contact and you need to follow the rules. Now let’s go.”

Harry watches as she ushers Louis out of the house. The door slams shut behind them and now suddenly, Harry is all alone. He doesn’t know what to do. Valerie told him to get ready but what does that even mean? He’s not putting on baby clothes, if that’s what she was entailing.

He crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at the TV that is now turned off. He hates all of this. Everything about this entire scenario is twisted and disgusting. He shouldn’t be forced into this, and he most certainly shouldn’t be stripped of his privacy.

He curls up in a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, feeling the tears start to clog his throat. He knows that when Louis gets back home, he’s not going to be the same Louis he was before. He’s going to be his…Daddy.

Harry chokes on the word. He doesn’t know how he’s going to survive these next three months.

Chapter Text

“Hazza baby?”

There’s a light touch on Harry’s shoulder. He stirs in his sleep, not ready to open his eyes. While Louis was gone, Harry had thrown a mild tantrum when he realized there was no way out of this damn house. All of the windows and doors were bolted shut. He got himself so worked up that he eventually fell asleep right next to the front door.

“Baby, wake up,” he hears Louis’s voice again.

He tiredly raises his head up, not knowing what’s going on at the moment, but already feeling his pulse quicken. He sees Louis standing there, a small smile on his face as he affectionately brushes his hair off his forehead. The younger boy flinches away, fully becoming aware of his surroundings again.

“Don’t touch me,” he snaps, slapping his hand away while trying to put as much as space as he can between him and Louis. He hopes that the glare he has aimed at the older boy is intimidating, even though they’re red rimmed and droopy.

Louis’ not affected by his behavior, which only makes Harry even madder. He wants Louis to be upset. He doesn’t like the way that he’s so smiley and lovely all the time. He misses the old Louis. He doesn’t understand what the company did to get him to behave in this manner, but he wishes it never happened.

Louis bends down, easily picking Harry up off the ground and adjusting him on his hip. Harry scowls at him, practically growling when he affectionately pats his bum. “What are you doing on the ground, silly boy?”

“Put me down,” he deadpans, glaring hard into Louis’ eyes. Maybe acting civil with the older boy will make him come to his senses.

“But you seem so sleepy, my love. Why don’t I carry you upstairs this one time and then we can relax together, hm?”

And that’s when Harry decides that he can no longer be civil with him anymore. He starts squirming in his arms, flailing and kicking against Louis’ legs with his own just trying to do anything that will make Louis set him on his feet. “Put me down right now! I don’t want to be picked up!”

He screeches loudly as soon as Louis grabs both his wrists in one of his hands while the other supports him under his bum. He wants out of this hold! But Louis’ grip is so tight that he can’t move his hands no matter how hard he tries.

Louis brings him closer to his chest, their cheeks practically pressed together. The older man finds it difficult to go up the stairs with a squirmy baby in his arms, but he figures it’ll only get easier with time. “Everything is okay, love,” he whispers, “can you calm down for me, please?”

Harry shakes his head, trying desperately to free his arms from Louis’ hands. “No, no, no. Louis, I want to be put down. Let me go!”

He ignores him, gently kissing the top of Harry’s head and pointedly ignoring his shocked cry. His baby will love his kisses eventually.

When they enter the nursery room, Harry freezes in Louis’ arms. He looks around the room, feeling dread pool in the bottom of his stomach. His eyes fly around the room, taking in all the furniture and decorations. The walls are painted a baby blue with tiny pictures of giraffes and elephants. A crib with tall sides is placed in the middle, and right next to the window is the changing station.

He hates everything about it.

“What do you think of your room, Hazza?”

He doesn’t answer him. Instead, he glowers at Louis, kicking and squirming and screaming once again. “Louis, I swear to god if you don’t put me down right now, then I’m going to—”

Suddenly, there is something rubbery and cold inside Harry’s mouth. He tries to spit it out immediately, but Louis keeps it—a pacifier—firmly in place, locking it around his head.
“Shh,” he says, bouncing Harry on his hip again. “It’s okay.” Harry shakes his head, blinking rapidly in an attempt to push his unshed tears away. “Let’s get you changed into something cozy. Is my baby a little a little uncomfortable in his t-shirt and jeans?”

Harry hurriedly shakes his head, squirming away from Louis immediately when he’s laid down on a changing table. He knows where this is going, and he is not ready to be changed by a boy only two years older than him. He doesn’t want to be undressed and forced into something else. He doesn’t want to be naked in front of Louis.
His face heats up at the thought, knowing that there is absolutely no way out of this. “No! ‘top!” he screams around the pacifier.

Louis clucks his tongue, quick to grab Harry’s torso and hold down while he plays with the straps that go over Harry’s stomach. “Shh,” he coos, wiping away the tears on Harry’s red cheeks. Harry just wants to bite his fingers off. He’s angry and upset, but most of all he’s embarrassed. He’s embarrassed that he can’t do anything about this entire situation. He’s embarrassed because he’s just so damn defenseless. “Shh. It’s okay, pumpkin. Can you calm down for Daddy, please?”

He despises that name. He will never, ever, call Louis his…Daddy at any point in his life. Just the very sound of that name makes him cringe. He doesn’t care how sad it makes Louis, but he absolutely refuses to call him that.

He pointedly shakes his head, still struggling against the restraints around his limbs even though he knows it’s pointless and futile.

“Harold,” Louis says sternly. Harry feels his eyes widen, not liking the way Louis’ voice turned stone cold so suddenly. “If you don’t start behaving, then I’m going to have to put you in a time out.”

Time out? Time out! He’s seventeen years old! Harry doesn’t need a time out! Besides, he’d rather go through a time out than getting changed any day.

As if Louis can read Harry’s mind, he quickly adds, “I didn’t want to do this on your first day, baby, but if you continue to scream and fuss, then you better expect to have a red bottom.”

Louis stops and raises his eyebrows, and Harry feels his stomach drop. He’s not serious, is he? Would he actually spank him?

Harry’s entire face feels incredibly warm, and he knows for a fact that he’s blushing profusely. He lets out a small cry, closing his eyes and finally allowing his body to fall limp in front of Louis.

There’s no point in fighting.

“Oh, thank you so much, Pumpkin. Daddy loves it when you behave.”

He stops to kiss Harry gently on his wet cheek, making Harry’s complexion darken significantly. As Louis bends down below the changing station, Harry can feel dread bubble up in his stomach. He feels like he could throw up any second now just from the nerves.

Seconds later, Louis stands in front of the changing table with a large nappy in his hands, along with baby powder and a large onsie with a teddy bear on the chest. Harry bites his lip, shaking his head lightly while letting more tears flow down his face. He hates the way his entire body is shaking.

“Aw babes, don’t worry,” Louis says, sliding Harry’s shirt over his head. “I’ll be very quick. And then we can go downstairs and read a book together. How does that sound?”

Harry chokes on a sob, closing his eyes when Louis unbuttons his jeans and shimmies them down his long legs. He’s practically naked in front of another man—something that he normally wouldn’t have a problem with, but in this situation he can’t concentrate on anything else.

He looks up at Louis with big eyes, hoping that he’s portraying some sense of pleading through his face. If Louis can just see how scared and upset he is, maybe he’ll understand that what he’s about to do is wrong.

Louis coos at him, gently stroking his finger along Harry’s cheek, collecting Harry’s tears and whisking them away.

“Daddy is so proud of you, Pumpkin,” Louis says, idly playing with one of Harry’s curls with one hand while pulling his boxer briefs down with the other. Harry’s face is the shade of a tomato. He can’t imagine what he must look like. He kind of just wants to cover his eyes with his fist. “What book do you want to read after this, hm? Do you want to read Eric Carle? Or the Bernstein bears maybe?”

Louis continues to babble on, which Harry presumes is to distract him from being changed, but nothing works. The only thing Harry can focus on is the way Louis has promptly thrown Harry’s clothes in the hamper, and now he’s currently lifting Harry’s knees to his chest so he can spread baby powder on all his private bits.

He lets out a small whimper, burying his head in his shoulder. This is just so humiliating and degrading. He’s fucking seventeen years old, yet here he is, being changed into a nappy like a little baby. He hiccups on his tears, fully allowing himself to cry openly in front of Louis.

“All done, baby! We’re done!” Louis says, quickly taping the nappy snug around his baby’s hips. He picks up Harry’s limp arms and legs, guiding them into his onsie while simultaneously whisking away more of Harry’s tears off his face.

The younger boy continues to cry even harder. He can’t believe what just happened. He’s absolutely mortified.

“Please let me go, Louis,” he barely whispers, looking down at his outfit. It’s hideous. It’s a green onsie with a bear in the corner. There are buttons near his bum, just like a newborn’s onsie.

Louis ignores him, instead opting to pick Harry up and snuggle him against his chest. It’s not a really good snuggle for either of them. Louis wants to hold Harry in his arms forever, but Harry wants nothing to do with him. The only thing Harry wants to do more is to push away from him. He wants to get as far away from Louis as he can. But he’s just so tired and too stunned to try and wiggle out of his arms. So he just sits there. He doesn’t snuggle into his chest. He doesn’t wrap his arms around his neck. Nor does he try and push Louis away. He just sits there, allowing Louis (for the first time) to carry him back downstairs.

They sit together in a rocking chair, Harry sitting uncomfortably across his legs with his feet dangling in the air. He stares at the ground, not allowing himself to look at Louis. He can’t. He’s too embarrassed. He’s not even sure if he’ll ever be able to look at the man again. It’s just so incredibly humiliating to think about.

“How about we read a bedtime story,” Louis says, reaching down by his feet to grab a large picture book. Harry doesn’t even acknowledge him, just continues to stare down at his feet. They’re covered with his pajamas. He hates the pajamas.

Louis lies back in the chair, pulling Harry softly against his chest. The younger boy freezes in his arms, feeling completely uncomfortable in his hold. “No,” he whispers.

“Okay, baby,” Louis says softly. He sits back upright again, bringing the book around Harry’s torso so he can look at the pictures. It’s Dr. Seuss’ The Cat in the Hat. He whines in the back of his throat, feeling his cheeks warm up once again when Louis begins reading.

The poor boy tries to get his baby to engage in a conversation about the different characters and different settings, but Harry wants absolutely nothing to do with it. He knows how to read. He knows how the story goes. And quite frankly, he doesn’t care about the character’s feelings towards Thing One and Thing Two. He doesn’t care that Sally and her brother have a big mess to clean up. He doesn’t care about anything Louis is asking him and he just wants to go home!

It’s only been one day and he’s sick of everything already!

His pulse begins to quicken. His anger is boiling under his skin as he listens to Louis’ voice go up an octave higher when he talks as The Cat. He hates it. He hates everything. He hates this book. He hates this house. He hates how he’s sitting in another person’s lap. He hates that he’s wearing a nappy. But most of all, he hates Louis.

He slaps the book out of his hands, jumping out of his lap and turning around so fast that Louis can only stare at him in shock before his eyebrows slowly start to pull together. It’s quiet in the room. The sound is deafening. Neither one of them talk for a solid minute. Finally, Louis breaks the silence.

“I think it’s time for your bedtime, baby. You’re a little fussy.”

Harry’s mouth drops open. He can’t believe it! How is Louis still so calm about this? He just slapped the book out of his hands and now he’s smiling at Harry?

“Put me down!” Harry screams when Louis cradles him in his arms. He’s crying again.

“Shh, little one,” Louis coos. “It was a big day today. Let’s just get some shut eye, yeah?”

He gently lays Harry down in his crib, quick to strap in his arms and his legs so he can’t escape during the night. Harry only cries more when he realizes he’s trapped. He watches silently as Louis presses a quick kiss to his forehead (which Harry flinches at) before he whispers goodnight in his ear and turns out the light, leaving Harry to stare up at the ceiling with tears in his eyes.

Harry cries himself to sleep that night.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Harry is dressed in bright, red leggings and a onsie that says ‘Little Love.’ It was a struggle for Louis to get him into it, especially when Harry saw the matching red socks with heart shaped ribbons near the top. He screamed and yelled and kicked whenever Louis came near him with the article of clothing, but needless to say, Harry didn’t win that battle.

He glares down at his outfit before raising his eyes to glower at the back of Louis’ head. He’s fixing both of them breakfast.

Now would be a good time to escape, Harry thinks, except for the fact that he’s locked into a fucking highchair. It’s not even hard to get out of, but his hands were forced into red, oversized mittens—he accidentally scratched Louis while he was being changed into his leggings—and they prevent him from grasping anything in his hands, including the switch to unlock the tray in front of him.

He bangs his forehead against the table. Maybe it’ll wake him up from this horrible nightmare.

Louis races to his side, catching his head in his hands before he hits it once again. “What are you doing, silly boy?”

Harry purses his lips and pointedly looks away from him. What does it look like he’s doing? He’s miserable and if he wants to bang his head against a plastic tray, then why won’t Louis let him?

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he continues, smiling gently at his baby before pulling a chair up in front of the highchair. Harry scowls at him, crossing his arms over his chest. He doesn’t want to be this close to Louis. “I made us some pancakes. Doesn’t that sound yummy?”

Harry doesn’t say anything in return. He just glares at him before holding his hands in front of Louis’ face, expecting him to take the mittens off so he can eat. When Louis doesn’t make any move to remove them, Harry kicks his legs out, frustrated that he’s being ignored.

“Take them off,” he demands, wanting to say as little as he can to the man who’s holding him captive.

Louis shakes his head, pressing Harry’s hands gently to his sides. “I’m going to feed you, baby.”

Harry groans, slamming his mittened hand against the table and rattling the silverware. He’s not going to be fed by Louis!

“No!” he screams, flipping the plate with the pancakes over. It topples over, landing on the ground with a crash. He doesn’t even flinch when the glass plate shatters. He just continues to glare at Louis with hard eyes, watching as his expressions change from shocked to angry.

“Harry Edward,” he scolds, standing up and picking Harry up underneath his armpits. “We do not act in this behavior. That is unacceptable.”

Harry punches at Louis’ chest, ignoring everything that Louis is telling him. He thrashes around in his arms until he’s set down on a step, facing the wall.

“You’re sitting in time out for five minutes, Harry. If you get up before then, you’re starting over. Daddy loves you, baby, but I don’t like your behavior right now.”

He bends down to press a quick kiss to Harry’s head, ignoring the way Harry narrows his eyes at him. He feels fed up and ridiculous. Here he is—a seventeen year old—sitting in time out while wearing a onsie that says “Little Love” with bright, red leggings over top. They make his already plush and gigantic nappy even more noticeable.

He hears off in the distance a timer being set for five minutes. To be honest, Harry feels a little grateful for the five minute time out, as weird as it sounds. He has a whole five minutes where he can be alone and just think. He doesn’t have to talk to Louis, nor does he have to be hand fed pancakes that probably aren’t even that good anyways.

Harry thinks about a lot of things—most of them self deprecating thoughts about how much he hates it here—but somewhere among his thoughts he starts thinking about his family.

He hopes they’re doing okay. They’ve hit a rough patch over this past month and he knows how hard and daunting it was for his mum. She worked for such long hours that Harry always thought that she was superwoman in disguise. He doesn’t understand how she was able to go to work for ten hours or more each day and then come home and take care of two kids with a smile still on her face.

As much as Harry would rather pluck every single hair off his body with tweezers, he realizes that he can never leave this house until his three month contract is up. With the money he’s earning each week, his family is guaranteed enough food for them to live off of, and a nicer apartment in a nicer neighborhood. It’s the least he could do.

This doesn’t go to say that he’s going to start behaving better for Louis, however. If he’s stuck here for three months, then he’s not going to let Louis forget it. Still, he wonders what had happened to the Louis he first met. It still seems odd to him why he changed so suddenly.

“One minute more, baby,” Louis singsongs from the kitchen.

Harry turns around in the direction of his voice, finding him slaying over the stovetop once again. He’s wiggling his bum back and forth while humming a song to himself. Harry grimaces, fighting off the small smile that he knows is coming. Before he can let himself do that, he turns back towards the wall, deciding that he’s not ready to engage in a conversation with Louis. He quite likes time out. It gives him some alone time, which he most definitely needs right now.

Knowing that his time out starts at five minutes over again, Harry stands up, running to no place in particular and waits until Louis notices. Louis catches him immediately, ignoring his baby’s fake cries of frustration when he’s set back on the step. He’s not actually particularly mad about being on the step, but he figures he has to make his behavior somewhat realistic.

Then, it becomes somewhat of a game. Every time there’s one minute left on the timer, Harry runs off the step, Louis catches him and brings him back, and then Harry proceeds to throw a ‘tantrum.’

It doesn’t last too long though.

“Harry,” Louis demands, pausing until he has all of Harry’s attention. He runs a hand over his tired face. Harry tries not to smirk at that, thinking that he’s won this battle. He’s figured out how to tire him out. “If you get off this step one more time, you and I will go upstairs and you can help me count out the twenty-five spanks that will be delivered to your bum.”

Harry’s stomach drops. His eyes widen and he can feel his blood drain from his body. If he thinks sitting in time out is embarrassing, he can’t imagine the absolute humiliation of being spanked. Immediately, he sits his bum on the stairs, not daring to move one inch throughout the entirety of his five minutes in time out. He ignores the happy smile Louis gives him once he’s picked up on his hip and carried back into the kitchen.

“Do you have anything you’d like to tell me, Hazza baby?” he asks, setting him back in the damn highchair. Harry has to use every muscle in his body to restrain himself from slapping Louis straight across the face.

He shoves his face into his arms, mumbling out an apology. He’d rather be stabbed in the eye twelve times with sharp knives than apologize to Louis. But he also would rather apologize than have a red bum. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to live after that humiliation.

“Apology accepted, sweetums,” he says, placing another pancake on the tray in front of Harry. He notices that it’s on a plastic plate instead of glass. At least he’s learned from the first time. “I bet you’re hungry, huh? Let’s get you fed and then we can play with some blocks.”

Harry reluctantly allows Louis to feed him. The man cuts every bite into small bits, and wipes at Harry’s mouth every so often, waiting patiently when he turns his face away. He dabs gently at the corners of his baby’s mouth, smiling warmly when Harry meets his eyes.

Harry hates the way his cheeks turn red every time he makes eye contact. It’s definitely not because he thinks Louis is gentle and caring with him. It’s probably because he’s embarrassed that he’s forced into a highchair with a bib around his neck. Yeah, that’s it.

“Good job,” Louis praises, taking the plate away when Harry’s eaten everything. He hands Harry a bottle of juice, allowing him to feed himself for once. Harry claims it as a victory, even though he still has to drink from a spill proof bottle. “Daddy has to take some medicine now.” He reaches up in the cabinet to grab a small orange vile that contains small pills. “You’ve brought out a different side of Daddy, little baby.”

Harry doesn’t quite understand what he even means by that. He watches curiously as he pops them into his mouth and swallows them without water. “Why?” he asks, hoping that his one worded question will be understood. He hates talking to Louis. He never wants to give him anything more than what he expects.

“It’s just for Daddies to worry about, angel. Babies don’t take them.”

That didn’t even answer his question. But he doesn’t push it. He just rolls his eyes, refraining from doing anything stupid.

When he’s done taking his medicine, Louis picks Harry up, settling him on his hip and walks back out to the family room. They sit down together on a colorful rug that has shapes and animals on it, and Louis pushes a box of blocks towards Harry’s feet.

The boy raises his eyebrows at it as if silently asking Louis if he expects him to play with them. Louis chuckles fondly, taking out a red and blue block and stacking them on top of each other. “Look how much fun this is, Hazza.”

Harry pulls his legs into his chest, resting his chin on his knees and staring blankly at the blocks. He doesn’t want to play with the blocks. It’s stupid and childish and dumb. He’d much rather take a nap, if he’s honest.

He closes his eyes, hearing Louis talking quietly to him but not fully comprehending what he’s saying. He’s almost asleep when he’s suddenly jolted awake when Louis knocks all the blocks down.

“Wasn’t that cool, baby?”

Louis looks at him expectantly, eyes bright and shining. It’s hard to believe that this man is nineteen years old, yet Harry can’t help but smile just a little at how excited the older man is. As soon as he realizes what he’s doing, he scowls before turning his attention elsewhere.

Louis chuckles beside him, fully aware that Harry just smiled for the first time.

About a half an hour passes of Louis trying desperately to engage Harry in the toy blocks. The boy wants absolutely nothing to do with them, even going so far as to sit on his hands, even though he hates the way he can distinctly feel his nappy.

Pretty soon, Louis gives up. He puts the blocks away with a little sigh (which may or may not make Harry feel a little bad) and then carries Harry over to the couch to watch an educational TV show. He gives Harry another bottle, this time some milk, and then attempts to cuddle him close before Harry promptly shoves him away. Louis, thankfully, takes the hint. He still sits close to him, sure, but at least he’s not practically breathing down Harry’s neck.

And boy, is he glad that he’s a little farther away from Louis because within a few minutes, Harry becomes suddenly all too aware of his full bladder. He’s trying to think of the last time he went, but he’s coming up blank. Was it really yesterday afternoon?

He bites his lip, squirming around, trying to find a comfortable position where there’s no pressure on his stomach. He refuses to go right now. There’s no way he’s going in this nappy.

“Baby, you’re sweating. What’s got you so worked up?”

Harry shakes his head, refusing to look at Louis right now. How does he tell him that he has to go to the bathroom? He can’t. That’s the thing.

“I-I just—” he crosses his legs and uncrosses them, feeling dumb and childish for even doing such a thing. It’s like he’s three years old again, learning how to use the potty. Except, this is the exact opposite of toilet training. He looks at the ground, feeling his cheeks warm up as he mentally prepares himself for his next sentence. “I have to go to the bathroom, Louis,” he mumbles with red cheeks.

Louis smiles, grabbing Harry’s hands in his. He waits until the boy looks him in the eyes before he affectionately rubs the back of his hands and whispers, “that’s why you have a nappy, my love.”

Harry knew he would say something like that, but he still can’t wrap his head around it. He feels the tears start to crawl down his cheeks. “I can’t,” he whispers.

Louis whisks his tears away, hauling him onto his lap and pressing gentle kisses to his hair. Harry doesn’t even flinch, too preoccupied on keeping his thighs pressed tightly together to focus on anything else.

“Would you like help, babe?”

Harry doesn’t even know what he means by that but before Louis can even finish his sentence, he’s already shaking his head rapidly, thrashing in his lap just trying to get out of his reach. He doesn’t need help.

“Okay, okay,” Louis says, letting him go reluctantly and watching him squirm pathetically as he tries to hold everything in. “Why can’t you go, Harry? Is it because you’re embarrassed?”

He doesn’t want to talk to Louis about why he can’t go. He doesn’t exactly want to talk about his feelings and shit. He just wants to go to the toilet and release himself in private. Is that really too much to ask for? It’s quite obvious to understand for anyone with eyes why this whole ordeal is kind of a big thing for him.

He winces, squeezing his eyes closed and promptly ignoring Louis’ question.

“You can’t hold it in, love. It’s not good for you. Why don’t you go to the wall, close your eyes, and pretend like there’s a toilet in front of you, yeah? I won’t even watch, promise.”

Harry unwillingly complies, walking slowly to the wall and closing his eyes. He feels utterly ridiculous standing there. How is he supposed to imagine a toilet in front of him when he still has damn leggings on along with a big, puffy nappy taped around his hips?

He huffs, making a small indignant noise when his bladder starts to hurt even more. He glances behind him, seeing Louis quickly turn his attention back to his phone as if he wasn’t just watching Harry. So much for his promise.

Harry closes his eyes once again, trying to push away all his negative thoughts and focusing on one thing and one thing only. Peeing.

He doesn’t know how he did it, but after a grueling minute of focusing, he releases. And he can’t even believe himself. It’s warm and gushy and it makes his nappy feel so heavy and soggy.

At first he does nothing but stand there, feeling the contents in his nappy squish around. Then, after a minute passes by, the sudden realization hits him in full speed. He immediately starts silently crying, resting his forehead against the wall in front of him and hiccuping on his ragged breathing.

“Baby, it’s okay. Come here,” Louis says behind him.

Harry can’t even look at Louis right now. He just cries harder, not wanting anything to do with the man who forced him into this.

“Harry,” he tries again. “Baby, shh.”

His arms encircle Harry’s body, and as much as Harry wants to push him away he just can’t. He doesn’t exactly lean into Louis’ embrace but he certainly doesn’t push him away. And he definitely can’t deny the fact that he secretly likes how warm and good Louis smells. But he’s never telling him that.

Harry turns around in his arms, burying his face against his shoulder. He’s so embarrassed. Why does Louis want him to do this? What good does it bring any of them?
“I-I just—don’t-I’m,” Harry chokes out, not knowing what he’s trying to say. It’s gibberish. He tries to pull away, not knowing whether he wants to stay in Louis’ arms forever or be as far away from him as he can.

“Shh,” Louis coos, pulling him into his lap when they sit back down on the couch. “Catch your breath, baby. We can talk in a minute.”

Louis continues to say soothing things in Harry’s ear, and within only a few minutes, Harry calms down and comes back to his senses—he’s sitting on a grown man’s lap with a very wet nappy.

As if Louis can already sense his hesitation, he lets Harry slide off his lap, opting to hold his hands instead as the boy stands in front of him with his eyes cast downward.
“Hazza baby,” Louis says, rubbing the tops of Harry’s hands. “Can you tell Daddy what you just did?”

Harry snaps his eyes up at the man, staring blankly at him. He can feel his heart pumping faster in anger. What does he mean ‘what you just did?’ He just pissed himself! He already knows this! Why does he need Harry to tell him?

“I’m not trying to embarrass you, love,” he adds on, pressing a quick kiss to the crease in Harry’s eyebrows. “I want you to get used to telling me whenever you do these things so in the future it’ll come natural for you.”

Harry glowers at him, trying and failing to pull his hands out of Louis’. “You know what I just did,” he snaps.

“Harry—”

“I fucking pissed myself, Louis! Alright?”

Louis takes in a steady breath, pulling Harry closer to his body even though the boy tries everything in his power to get away. He holds him in his arms until he settles down. “I don’t like the language you’re using babe, but because I know you’re embarrassed right now, I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear that.”

Harry rolls his eyes, switching his weight between his feet. He can’t deny that the nappy is uncomfortably heavy and disgusting. He tries not to think about it so much.
“Is there something you want Daddy to do now?” Louis prompts him.

Harry gets what Louis is trying to do. Really, he does. But he’s already humiliated as it is. Does he really need to force him into saying that he wants to be changed?

“Louis,” he whines.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me, baby. You know that.” He stops to wipe the tears off Harry’s face. Harry didn’t even realize he was crying again. “Come on, sweetie. I can’t do anything unless I know what you want.”

“I want to change myself.”

If Harry wasn’t so embarrassed right now, he’d probably smirk at his sly comment, but as it is, his face is already bright red and he’s choking on tears and snot. He wouldn’t be able to pull off a smirk. Louis, on the other hand, does not like that comment. He shakes his head, narrowing his eyebrows slightly.

“Try again,” he says.

Harry cries out in defeat, lowering his head in shame. “Change me,” he whispers.

Louis smiles, easily picking him up off the ground and into his arms, already beginning the walk up the stairs to the nursery. “What’s the magic word, love?”

Harry’s come to realize how much he hates Louis. He may be warm and he may smell really nice, and sometimes he smiles and dances like a dork, but he hates him deep down inside.

“Please,” he mumbles.

He’s not even sure how Louis heard him, to be honest. He said it so quietly that even he was questioning whether he said it or not. But somehow, Louis heard it and immediately he smiles so big, Harry thought it was going to break his entire face.

“Of course I’ll change you, baby. Thank you for being so polite.”

He’s laid down on the changing table, cringing when Louis places a stuffed giraffe in his hands. It’s cute—it’s fury and little, and even has a little smile—

Before Harry can even finish his thought process he chucks it at Louis. He definitely does not think a toy stuffed giraffe is cute. Louis is not amused. His scowl instantly makes Harry freeze.

“We don’t throw things at Daddy, baby.”

He begins to pull off Harry’s leggings, putting them aside for a moment while he fixes the clean nappy under Harry’s hips. The younger boy clenches his teeth, staring up at the ceiling and fighting off his tears, but otherwise staying motionless. He doesn’t feel like fighting right now. He’s too tired. It’s been a long, emotional day.

“Thank you for being so cooperative, angel,” Louis says, kissing Harry’s knobby knees. “It makes changing your nappy so much easier.”

Harry winces, closing his eyes and covering his face with his hands. He hears the tapes on his nappy being undone and then the cold air hits him, giving him goosebumps up and down his skin. Louis takes his dear, sweet time with changing him—wiping down every bit of skin that was sitting in his baby’s urine, making sure to give Harry’s nether regions some time to breathe down there, applying cream to the insides of his thighs and on his bum cheeks, and finally, generously applying baby powder everywhere—all while Harry blushes fiercely and flinches every time the older man lays a finger on him.

He’s so damn slow. He just wants this change to be over with so he can go back to ignoring Louis like he was before. He hates how he gave into him so easily as soon as he wet himself.

“All done, baby boy!” Louis says, pulling Harry’s leggings back up his legs. He picks him up before Harry can jump off the side and kisses his forehead and hair. “I’m so proud of you!”

Harry doesn’t understand why he’s so proud of him. He just wet himself in a nappy. It’s degrading and humiliating. He never wants to do it again.

Louis hums against his hair, walking towards the crib in the corner of the room and gently laying Harry inside. “I think it’s someone’s nap time now, baby. What do you say? Do you want to sleep?”

It’s the first time Harry has ever agreed with Louis.

Chapter Text

Harry wakes up to someone gently rubbing his back. He smiles sleepily into the pillow, reveling in the feeling. He’s always been a sucker for back rubs, even if that means he’s being woken up from his blissful sleep. He almost lets out a satisfied hum before he realizes who it is that’s touching him. He groans, stuffing his face into the plush pillow.

“Come on, sleepy head,” he hears Louis’ light and airy voice call from above. “It’s time to get up. You’ve been asleep for three hours. It’s time for dinner.”

Harry keeps his eyes closed. He’s hungry. But he’d rather sleep longer than eat, especially if that means that Louis will be hand feeding him again. He winces at the thought.

“Don’t wanna eat,” he muffles into the pillow.

“Surely you must be hungry, babe. It’s dinner time and you haven’t eaten since brunch this morning.”

Yeah, Harry is hungry. God is he hungry. But the more he thinks about Louis feeding him, the less appealing food sounds to him.

“How about this,” Louis says when Harry buries his face deeper into the pillow. His fingers card through Harry’s messy curls, gently pulling some of the tangled knots while his fingertips scratch at his scalp soothingly. Harry nearly sighs in content until he remembers that he doesn’t like it when Louis touches him. “I’ll let you sleep for five more minutes and in the meantime, I’ll go prepare you a nice, nutritional bottle, yeah?”

Harry doesn’t even register the second half of Louis’ sentence, only hearing the ‘sleep for five more minutes.’ He hums in agreement, already allowing his eyes to close and his body to relax against the blankets. Unfortunately for him, five minutes are much too short when it comes to sleep, because before Harry even realizes it, he’s being picked up and sat down in Louis’ lap in the rocking chair in the corner of the room.

He blearily opens his eyes, finding himself sat sideways on Louis’ lap with his head cradled in the crook of his elbow. Louis is looking down at him fondly, a warm bottle of milk in his hands and a large picture book by his feet. He smiles, bringing the nipple to Harry’s lips.

Immediately, Harry pushes his hands away, reaching for the bottle himself. In the past, Louis has always let Harry feed himself the bottle. He doesn’t understand why he wouldn’t be allowed to feed himself this time.

“Harry,” Louis warns, giving the baby a pointed look. “Don’t fight me.”

He tries again to bring the nipple of the bottle to Harry’s lips, but once again, he turns his face away, pressing his lips together with a huff.

“You’ve let me feed myself before,” he grumbles.

“Yes, baby I did,” Louis admits, gently turning his baby’s head back to face him, and smiling kindly. Harry kind of wants to slap it off his face. “But I really want to have some bonding time with you and what better way to do that than feeding my baby a bottle?”

Harry fights back the urge to yell that he’s most certainly not his baby, but he ultimately decides that won’t exactly convince Louis to let him feed himself. He whines, pouting out his lip unconsciously. “Please, Louis?” he begs.

“That’s not my name, baby. We really need to work on that. Can you say Daddy for me?”

Harry’s cheeks grow incredibly warm, knowing for a fact that he must be blushing from head to toe just from that simple word. The word alone brings about absolute disgust that words can’t even describe. It’s just awkward and weird and he feels so embarrassed whenever he thinks about calling Louis his Daddy. He shakes his head, ridding himself of the awful feeling he has in his stomach.

“I’m not calling you that,” he whispers.

But Louis doesn’t listen to him.

“I know you can, baby. Come on.” He strokes the side of Harry’s cheek with his finger. Harry assumes that’s meant to encourage him or something, but really it just makes him want to bite his finger off. “Maybe I’ll let you feed yourself your own bottle if you ask Daddy politely.”

And well, Harry really can’t pass up that opportunity. He takes a deep breath, letting it out unevenly.

“Daddy, can I feed myself?” he mumbles through his mittened clad hands.

He keeps his eyes trained on the book by Louis’ feet, too embarrassed to meet his eyes.

“What was that, Hazza baby?” Louis asks, rubbing Harry’s arm to grab his attention. The boy turns to glare at him, narrowing his eyebrows. He knows for a fact that Louis heard him. There’s no question about it. “Can you repeat that for me?” he adds on, smiling affectionately. He brushes some loose strands of hair out of Harry’s eyes.

Harry just stares at him, feeling his anger start to pulse through his blood. He’s starting to feel warmer, and this time he’s not sure if it’s because he’s beyond humiliated or it’s because he’s incredibly mad.

“Daddy, can I feed myself?” Harry repeats louder, his cheeks growing significantly darker. He keeps his glower aimed directly at Louis, wanting him to feel how angry and upset this whole situation makes him. It’s ridiculous that he even has to ask that, let alone address Louis as his ‘Daddy.’

Harry nearly barfs at the mere word.

“I’m so proud of you, Pumpkin,” Louis says, kissing Harry’s forehead. Harry doesn’t react, just hardens his facial features into a hard and stony glare. He hates to admit it, but he’s gotten used to the older man kissing him on his forehead and hair. He doesn’t like it, by any means, but he doesn’t flinch quite as much anymore when he feels the familiar pair of warm lips against his skin.

“Can I have the bottle now?” he asks, holding out his hands expectantly. He frowns when Louis holds it out of reach.

“I’m very proud of you for asking very politely, sweetums, but Daddy still wants to feed you.”

Harry lets out a loud and piercing scream. He just went through all that embarrassment for nothing! And Louis lied to him! How is he supposed to gain his trust if he just bluntly lies to his face?

He hits at Louis’ chest, kicking out his feet in protest. He doesn’t care if he accidentally hurts Louis in the process. He’s beyond angry and feels manipulated.

“You told me that I could feed myself!” he screams just as Louis grabs hold of his wrists with one hand. He tries his hardest to pull his hands away from Louis’, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t shake him off. “Let go of me! I can fucking feed myself, you dipshit!”

“I don’t like your language, baby. You need to stop using those words; otherwise Daddy will have to punish you.”

“Punish me?” he scoffs, “I’m seventeen years old! I can say whatever the hell I want!”

Louis swats his thigh, effectively shutting Harry up. He yelps, looking up at Louis with wide eyes that are now beginning to tear up. It didn’t hurt at all, but it’s humiliating, to say the least. He hopes that he’s conveying the question of why with his expression. His throat is too tight to utter a single word.

“Please drink you milk, honey. It’s really good.”

He gently lowers the bottle to Harry’s lips, and even though Harry wants to push it away once again, he knows there’s no way out of it. It’s always Louis’ way.

He lets the nipple slip between his lips and looks everywhere but up at Louis. He feels embarrassed about everything that’s just happened within the past few minutes. He’s also embarrassed that he’s started crying again, and Louis has to, once again, wipe away his damn tears that crawl down his cheeks.

“Does it taste good, baby?”

Harry ignores him. He doesn’t want to admit that the milk is actually delicious. He must’ve put some kind of strawberry flavoring in it. The taste vaguely reminds Harry of his favorite childhood memories where he ate strawberries in a field.

He chugs down the rest of the milk, finally meeting Louis’ eyes when it’s empty. His cheeks flame immediately when Louis catches his eye and smiles his soft, intimate smile. Harry’s decided that he absolutely hates that look.

He doesn’t want to be looked at like some kind of porcelain doll.

“Good job, baby,” Louis says, setting the bottle down by his feet and sitting Harry up in his lap so that his chin rests on his shoulder.

Harry stiffens uncomfortably in his hold, feeling all too aware of Louis’ hand underneath his bum and the other on his back, rubbing small circles into his onsie. Their chests are flushed together, and no matter how much Harry tries to push away from Louis, he simply can’t push hard enough that’ll make the man let go.

“It’s okay,” he reassures him. “Daddy just wants to burp you.”

Burp him? Is that supposed to sooth Harry? Because if that was Louis’ intention, it worked in the exact opposite way. He starts wiggling around, trying desperately to turn back around in Louis’ lap. He doesn’t need to be burped! He’s fully capable of burping on his own.

He’s about to scream at Louis to let him go when all of a sudden, a hand hits him lightly over his back, surprising him. Harry gasps, feeling absolutely miserable and pitiful. It didn’t hurt, but the fact that he’s actually being burped—like an actual newborn baby—makes him feel so worthless and degraded. He blinks, feeling his tears roll down his face while Louis continues to hit his back. It’s just so humiliating. Especially when he finally lets out a loud and wet burp that he didn’t realize he had in his system.

He lets out a pathetic sob.

Louis immediately spins him around, cuddling him into his chest and mumbling sweet nothings into his ear. Harry may or may not accidentally drench Louis’ shirt with his tears.

“Shh,” Louis coos, rocking back and forth with Harry in his arms. “That’s what I wanted to hear, baby. That’s why I was doing that. You don’t need to be embarrassed, love.”
Harry scoffs at that. He doesn’t need to be embarrassed. Who is Louis kidding? He has every right to be embarrassed! Who wouldn’t be embarrassed in his position?

Harry just curls up, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. His eyes feel way too heavy and his muscles are tired. He feels like he can barely even hold himself up, relying much too heavily on Louis to support him.

“There we are,” Louis says, standing up and carrying his baby over to the changing table. Harry watches him carefully, wondering why he’s over here when he hadn’t even used his nappy. He tries to sit up, but his muscles are too weak. “Now that you’re calm and relaxed, I can give you a bath.”

Despite Harry being exhausted, his eyes instantly widen. He tries to move his body away from Louis, but not one part of his muscles move. “No!” he screams, wanting desperately to move and flail against Louis.

Louis shushes him, moving to his side and gently rubbing his legs in little circles. “Reax, baby.”

Suddenly, everything starts to click. Harry was perfectly capable of moving his body before drinking that milk, but all of a sudden, he can’t move his limbs? That’s not right. He frowns before suddenly feeling his pulse quicken underneath his skin.

“You drugged me!” he spat out, wanting so desperately to wiggle away from Louis as he pulls down Harry’s red leggings. His skin starts to prickle.

“Daddy would never drug his baby,” he soothes, carefully removing his socks and mittens from his hands and feet. Harry’s cheeks warm up again, knowing that pretty soon he’s going to be completely naked in front of Louis once again. He bites the inside of his cheek, willing away his blush and focus on his anger towards Louis instead.

“Then why can’t I move my body?”

Louis unbuttons his onsie near his bum, working it over his head despite Harry’s fuss. The young boy cries again, wanting to cover his naked chest with some kind of fabric.

“You must be very tired, my little one.”

Bullshit, Harry wants to scream. There’s no way that the reason why he can’t move his arms or legs is because he’s too tired. He absolutely refuses to believe that.

But before he can even think about screaming that in Louis’ face, his nappy is off his lower half, and he’s left completely bare. His tears fall freely down his face now, his breath ragged and rough from the little bit of air that passes through his lungs. He clenches his eyes closed, trying to grab for something, anything, that will essentially cover him back up. He’s never felt this exposed and vulnerable in his life.

“Let’s get you in that bath now, love.”

He’s carried into the bathroom, and Harry’s tears soak his skin. He feels way too close to Louis. His naked skin feels too warm pressed up against Louis’ white t-shirt. He wants out of here.

While Louis begins filling the tub with water, Harry is gently placed on a yellow towel, made to look like a duck. He grimaces at the thought of actually wearing that when he’s done with his bath. He can’t believe he’s being forced into a duck towel that he probably wore when he was five years old.

Then again, he’s being forced into nappies, so he really shouldn’t be all that surprised. At least he gets to be bathed in a normal bathtub and not some kind of newborn plastic thing or a sink.

He chokes on another round of tears when he realizes that he’s actually thankful for that.

“Oh baby,” Louis says, noticing how shaken up Harry is. He softly runs his knuckles over Harry’s cheeks. “Shh, everything’s alright.”

Harry shakes his head. No, everything is not alright. This shouldn’t even be happening.

“Don’t do this to me,” he whimpers. His tears fall relentlessly down his face, and he knows that he must look horrible. “I want to go home.”

Louis shushes him, feeling the water with his fingers before gently placing his baby in the water. Harry cries harder, wanting nothing more than to hide his face in his hands. He can’t even pull his knees up to his chest to keep himself somewhat hidden from Louis. His muscles are too weak to move anything but his head.

“It’ll be over before you know it, baby. Just lean you head back and relax. Daddy will do all the work.”

If Harry had the capability of moving his arms, he would splash Louis with the water and drench him from head to toe. But as it is, he can’t move, so he settles for an attempted glare through his red rimmed and tear filled eyes.

He sits in the tub frozen. He’s beyond uncomfortable in the water, feeling super self conscious with the way he’s fully naked in front of another man while being bathed. At the very least, Louis should have put in some bubbles or something to keep his private bits hidden. Instead, he just has to sit in the tub with clear water, everything exposed.

“Head back, babe,” Louis whispers, gathering water in a small bucket. Harry refuses to move. He wants to be as difficult as he can. Unfortunately, he can’t move most of his body, so it’s pretty easy for Louis to gently place his finger under Harry’s chin and lift it up for him.

Harry only scowls at him in return.

It’s quiet between the two of them. Harry glares daggers when Louis decides to give him a Mohawk with the shampoo while Louis only smiles affectionately back, trying to hide his fond towards his baby in the bath tub. He secretly wants to take a photo of him and label it ‘baby’s first bath,’ but he figures that could wait until another time. He’s not sure how Harry would react if he knew he was being photographed.

He quickly goes about cleaning the rest of Harry’s body, soothing him quickly when he notices Harry’s immediate discomfort when he runs the washcloth over his genitals.

“Almost done, baby,” Louis says, turning around briefly to grab a razor and some shaving cream. Harry eyes him, his eyes widening when he sees what’s in his hand. He shakes his head, murmuring out a string of pleas.

“Shh,” Louis says, “it’s okay. Daddy just wants to help you.”

He gingerly grabs Harry’s ankle, lifting his leg out of the water and lathering it with shaving cream. Harry winces as he watches his hair disappear beneath the blade. He bites his lip to stop himself from sobbing. It’s just so unfair. He doesn’t understand why his hair needs to be removed from his body.

Louis continues happily, singing a song to his baby when he finishes the other leg, Harry’s face and finally down to his pubic hair. Harry reckons his face is permanently red. He never wants Louis that close and personal with his dick and balls ever again.

“Can Daddy explain to you your rules and schedule, baby?” Louis asks suddenly. Harry looks up at him through his tears. He never answers his question, but Louis continues anyway. “Now I don’t want to overwhelm you so if you have any questions, you can always stop Daddy, yeah?”

Harry meekly nods his head, staring down at his shaven body and feeling more tears crawl down his face. He’s so tired of crying, but he can’t seem to stop them.

“Okay, darling. Daddy will wake you up at nine every day, and then we’ll get you dressed and go downstairs for some breakfast. Now, I know that you won’t like me for this, but Daddy just wants to make sure that your body is functioning as it should, so your meals will be extra high in fiber,” he stops to pinch Harry’s red cheek. “It’s good for your digestive system. We don’t want Harry’s tum tum to hurt, now do we? No, we don’t,” he adds in an extra high voice.

Harry’s absolutely mortified. He stares at Louis as if he’s grown two heads. It’s unbelievably difficult for him to understand why Louis insists on talking to him in this ridiculous ‘baby talk,’ let alone his need for making sure his digestive system is healthy and happy. His cheeks darken even more than they already were. It feels like there’s a big hole in the middle of his stomach that continues to grow larger and larger the more Louis talks.

He talks for a long time, which really only makes Harry more anxious and upset as time passes by. He talks about bedtime, and books, and using his nappy, and behaving well so we won’t be punished.

“Which brings me to my next point, baby,” Louis says, stopping briefly to tuck Harry’s wet hair behind his ear. Harry’s not sure if he really wants to hear the next part. He’s not too keen on this entire conversation they’re having. “Swearing is not acceptable. Daddy doesn’t like it when you use those bad words. So for now on, there will be no cursing. If you use them, Daddy’s decided that it’s five spanks for every word.”

Harry’s skin prickles with dread. He can’t imagine the absolute humiliation of being sprawled on Louis’ lap with his bum in the air, let alone the actual spanking part. His cheeks redden at the very thought.

“L-Louis,” he says. His voice trembles over the single word. He’s not even sure what he’s trying to say, but he feels so miserable and helpless. He doesn’t want this life. He wants to go home. He wants to be with his family.

“It’s Daddy, love.” Harry shakes his head, blinking and watching the tears fall. “Why don’t we get out of this bathtub and into a nice, comfy onsie, yeah? Would you like that, my little one?”

Even if Harry were physically capable of replying, he wouldn’t have had the chance before Louis scooped him out, wrapping the yellow, duck towel around his limp body. He curls into Louis’ chest, confused whether he wants to be alone or comforted right now, but ultimately choosing the latter.

Louis snuggles him close, pressing a soft kiss against his hair. He realizes that the only reason his baby is behaving like this is because of the medicine he gave him in his milk, but he pretends like that’s not the reason for now. He can’t wait until his baby willingly behaves like this in the future.

“Okay pumpkin. Here we are,” he says, lying Harry on his back. He grabs a clean nappy and slides it under his baby’s bum, quickly spreading baby powder and cream everywhere. Harry grimaces but doesn’t do much. This day has been long and all he wants to do is sleep.

Before Louis dresses Harry in his adorable set of pajamas, he pumps some oil into his hand, lathering it up so it’s nice and warm. “How does a nice massage sound right now, sweetie? Does that sound good?”

“I’d rather sleep,” Harry snaps. He’s getting fed up with the constant prodding and the baby voice. He’s getting annoyed with the way he can’t move his limbs and the way he can’t defend himself from being changed. He hates it here. His blood begins to pump faster when Louis clucks his tongue and presses his oiled hands against Harry’s chest, making big round circles.

“You can sleep after, baby. Daddy likes to give his baby a massage after their baths so your skin stays nice and fresh. It’ll feel good.”

As much as Harry wants to deny that statement, he can’t find it in himself to do so. It does feel good. Louis’ hands are warm and the way he gently rubs at his chest, arms, legs, and back feels heavenly. His eyes roll to the back of his head. He really enjoys this massage. Maybe just a little too much.

“Does my baby like this?” Louis chuckles, smoothing his hands over his skin. He laughs when Harry tries to shake his head no. He knows that his little bundle of joy secretly does enjoy it, but he just wants to be stubborn for the sake of being stubborn. His hands move to Harry’s stomach, gently moving one hand at a time down and then bringing it back up to his abdomen and repeating the process. “This is called the waterfall,” he whispers. “It’s very good for your digestive system.”

Harry doesn’t care what it’s called. He just wants Louis’ hands to continue to do whatever it is that they’re doing.

“We’re almost done baby,” Louis says, still moving his hands firmly down his stomach. Harry frowns, not wanting it to be done with already. This and sleeping may be the only good thing about being a baby. “I’m just going to press your knees up to your chest now, but before I do, I just want to tell you that this massage is supposed to help with some gas bubbles in your tummy.”

Harry’s eyes open at that. What is that supposed to mean?

“Don’t worry, love,” Louis says, noticing his fear. “I just wanted to warn you. Sometimes, little babies tend to pass some gas or make a little poopie in their nappy when you give them this massage. It’s completely natural.”

Harry frantically shakes his head, trying desperately to move his arms and legs once again. He doesn’t want to do that. He’d rather go through another round of bath time than shit himself in a nappy.

He pointedly ignores the voice in the back of his head that reminds him that that’s going to happen sometime in the near future.

“No!” he screams, flailing his legs and arms around. “I don’t want that!”

Louis rubs his arm, waiting patiently until his baby calms down. “It’s okay, love. Shh, calm down for Daddy.”

He gently takes Harry’s knees, and despite Harry’s protests, he pushes them against his chest. Harry cries, hearing himself fart and wincing when he sees Louis smile proudly. The older man brings his knees down briefly, wiggling them around and then pushing them back up a second time.

Harry lets out some more gas much to his utter embarrassment. He buries his head against his shoulder, feeling absolutely horrified and betrayed by his own body. He can’t even control himself right now. He realizes that Louis can manipulate his body into doing anything that he wants.

“Stop,” he cries.

Louis brings his knees back down again only to push them back up again for the third time. This time, there’s nothing, and Harry’s never felt more grateful for anything else in his entire life. “Is that it, baby? Just some gas bubbles in your tummy?”

Harry doesn’t respond. He just cries into his shoulder, feeling like scum. His cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

“Let’s get you dressed and then it’s bedtime for you,” Louis says, quickly dressing him once again. He’s put into a onsie with a monkey’s face on his bum. He doesn’t know how it can get any worse. “There we are.” Louis picks Harry up and gently places him in his crib, pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Hazza baby. Sweet dreams.”

The boy immediately curls into a ball, stuffing his face into the pillows and hoping that tomorrow he’ll somehow magically be back in his own room with his family.

He cries harder when he realizes that won’t happen until three more months.

Chapter Text

“Come on, baby,” Louis says giddily, waving a ring of keys happily in front of Harry’s face. He huffs, resting his forehead on the ground.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to last. It’s only day two and he’s completely fed up with everything. Ever since Louis drugged him last night (which Louis will claim that he did ‘no such thing!’), Harry has barely been able to move his arms and legs. He has more control over them than yesterday, but not by much. His limbs move in spastic motions with no elegance or grace behind them.

And how does Louis react to it?

Fucking tummy time, that’s how.

He figures that it would help him regain his muscles or something. Needless to say, Harry thinks it’s stupid.

He glares at the plastic set of colorful rings in front of him, wanting nothing more than to snatch them out of Louis’ hands and chuck them across the room. The jingling and rattling noise irks him, irritating him to no end. Louis has been doing this for the past ten minutes and Harry thought that the older boy would get the point that there is no way that he should ever expect Harry to crawl after plastic keys.

He feels stupid just squirming around on his stomach, trying to move his arms and legs in a way so that he could at least sit up on his own. It only frustrates him more when Louis coos at him, affectionately running his hand through his curls.

“Stop touching me,” he snaps, turning his head in an attempt to bite at Louis’ fingers. He knows it’s futile, but that still doesn’t stop him from trying.

Louis snatches his hand back, lightly scolding Harry for his behavior. He picks the keys back up, trying to get Harry’s attention and make him crawl for it, but the boy just simply scoffs, turning his face away.

“Maybe we should try something different,” Louis says finally, setting the plastic keys to the side. Harry sighs in relief, mumbling a quiet and sarcastic remark under his breath. It’s about time that Louis finally does something different. It only took him five million years. “Does my baby want his phone?”

Harry snaps his head up, instantly recognizing his phone in Louis’ hand. It’s just out of his reach, so if wants it, he’d have to crawl towards it. He narrows his eyebrows, feeling his face start to heat up in embarrassment. It’s one thing lying on the floor because he can’t move his arms and legs right. But making him squirm around on the floor in an attempt to crawl towards something? He feels absolutely helpless and ridiculous. He wishes he could just move his body like he should be able to for a seventeen year old.

But then again, there’s a lot that he should be able to do for a seventeen year old, and being here in Louis’ house is certainly not helping any.

“Go on, baby,” Louis encourages when he sees Harry staring intently at his phone. He presses the home screen, showing him that he’s got several unread messages from his mum. “You can do it.”

Harry almost wants to stuff his face back into the carpet just because Louis’ voice and helpful words make him want to throw up.

He starts to use what little strength he has in his arms and legs to spastically slide on his stomach towards the phone. The carpet pulls down his leggings a bit, but he isn’t too focused on that for the moment. All he wants is his phone. He’s so close. He just needs to reach his hand out and he could grasp it.

He sticks his tongue out in concentration, steadily moving the muscles needed to reach for his phone. But just as his fingers were about to grasp it, Louis moves it away, a little farther this time, and smiles down at Harry with a loving face.

Harry glares up at him without saying anything. He understands that Louis’ trying to help him regain his muscles, but does he really need to tease him like this? He feels like an absolute idiot.

He slowly pushes himself against the carpet again, feeling like a washed up seal on a beach. The carpet is rubbing painfully against his bare arms and he can feel the burning sensation growing on his elbows. He hopes Louis feels bad that his skin is being cut from the rough carpet. Maybe it’ll knock some sense into him.

Right as he approaches the phone again, Louis moves it away at the last second.

Harry glares at him. He can feel his heart racing and the way his blood is beginning to boil with anger. He wants to pull his hair out in frustration from all of Louis’ stupid tricks and plans. He can’t take this anymore. He worked hard just to get his far across the carpet so damn it—why won’t Louis reward him already!

“Stop moving the fucking phone!” he screams, scaring Louis in the process. Harry balls his fists, glad that he doesn’t have the stupid mittens on his hands for once. “This is ridiculous and I’m pretty sure I’m getting rug burn on my fucking arms!”

Louis stuffs the phone in his pocket, frowning at Harry. “What did I tell you about using that language, Harold. I don’t want that in my house.”

“I don’t fucking care!” he yells, trying to turn around on his back. He’s becoming consciously aware of his very full bladder right now and being on his stomach is only putting more pressure on it. He doesn’t feel like wetting himself right now, especially not when he’s fuming. “I don’t want to be on my damn stomach, crawling around like an idiot!”

Louis gasps, quickly pulling him off the carpet and carrying him into the nursery. He sits in the rocking chair, pulling Harry over his lap, his ass high in the air with his head towards the carpet. His face feels like it’s on fire and he can’t tell if he’s crying because he’s humiliated or if it’s because he’s so damn mad at this whole situation.

“Let go of me!” he cries, squirming as much as he can on Louis’ lap. Louis quickly steadies him, placing his hand firmly on his lower back while the other rests on his bum. Harry begins to tremble with tears.

“Baby, you broke one of my rules. What did I tell you about swearing?”

Harry doesn’t answer, just hiccups on his tears and tries to swallow down the hole in his throat. He knows what rules he’s broken, and if his current position over Louis’ legs mean anything, then he’s about to be spanked. He chokes on more tears at just the mere word.

“Can you tell Daddy what the punishment is? I know you know it, baby.”

Harry shakes his head, letting out a little whine. He hates the way that Louis always needs to hear him talk. Doesn’t he realize how embarrassing it is for him? “Five spanks for each swear word,” he whispers.

“That’s right, love,” Louis says, gently rubbing his back in soothing circles. He tells Harry to calm his breathing down and once he’s ready, Louis will start.

Harry closes his eyes, feeling the tears pool behind his eyelids. He doesn’t want to think about what’s going to happen. He doesn’t want to think about what he’s done to get himself into this mess. Instead, all he wants to think about is his breathing. He listens to Louis’ gentle voice, matching his breathing to his quiet words. He hates to admit that Louis has a calming voice.

“Okay, sweetie. You said three naughty words, so Daddy is going to give you fifteen. Can you be brave for me, Pumpkin?”

Harry makes fists with his hands, pressing himself closer to Louis’ legs just trying to find some comfort somewhere. He barely nods his head, mumbling out a small yes.
Louis doesn’t give him any warning before his hand comes in contact with Harry’s bum. It knocks Harry forward, knocking surprised wind out of Harry’s mouth. He cries harder, wanting to cover his bum with his hand but not finding the energy or muscles to do so.

“It’s okay, baby,” Louis said, bringing his hand down hard against his bum again. They keep coming, and Harry swears the man is not going easy on him. His ass is on fire, even with the nappy and leggings covering most of the blows.

He cries harder when he realizes that his body is enjoying this more than he thought. He’s actually getting hard down there and he prays to every god that Louis doesn’t notice it. He’d be embarrassed beyond belief if Louis actually found out that Harry secretly enjoys this.

“One more, sweetie,” Louis says, landing the hardest one right in the middle of Harry’s bum. Immediately, he picks Harry up, hugging him close to his chest and running his fingers through his hair. The boy buries his face in his shoulder, soaking his shirt with his tears. His uneven breathing racks his entire body, and his face is flush from embarrassment. “It’s okay, baby. It’s all over. Daddy didn’t want to hurt you. Shh,” he whispers, rocking the boy gently back and forth in the rocking chair.

Harry starts to calm his breathing down, still keeping his face pressed up against Louis’ chest. He doesn’t want to lift himself from this position. It’s warm and it brings him a sense of comfort even though this is the man that initially put him in discomfort to begin with. He lets out an uneven sigh, pressing his face further into his t-shirt. He likes the way Louis smells.

Louis smiles fondly, thumbing away some of the tears from his baby’s cheeks and tucking his long hair behind his ear. “Everything is all over now, sweetums.”

Harry swallows a painful lump in his throat, tucking his chin into Louis’ shoulder. He never wants to experience that ever again.

“Come on, love,” Louis whispers in his ear, standing up from the rocking chair. Harry makes an indignant noise when he’s picked up, not wanting to lose the warmth from Louis. He wants to press his face against his chest forever. Instead, he’s brought over to the changing table in the corner of the room, set down on the table while Louis grabs a fresh nappy and some cream.

Harry worries his bottom lip with his teeth, his heart rate starting to pick up again. He doesn’t like the looks of the new nappy in his hand.

“You’re a little wet, love. Why don’t we change you real quick, put some cream on your bum and then go downstairs and cuddle on the couch.”

Harry’s eyes widen. He’s suddenly all too aware of the warmth filling his nappy. He can’t believe he just wet himself while being spanked! Immediately, he begins to cry once again, squirming on his back in order to try and get away from Louis. He can’t let Louis change him right now. He’s humiliated as it is! He’s just gotten spanked, he has a hard on right now, and he’s just wet himself without even realizing it!

Louis begins to untape the sides, but Harry quickly stops him with a loud squeal.

“What’s the matter?” Louis asks quickly. His eyes are wide, afraid that he’s just hurt his baby by accident.

Harry stares at him with tear filled eyes, his bottom lip trembling. He knows he’s about to endure his absolute humiliation, but he can’t stop himself from asking, just one more time. “L-Louis, can I please…use the bathroom?” he whispers. His hands slowly work their way to his nappy, his fingers nimbly toying with the edge of the diaper.

“You’ve already used the nappy, love. It’s okay.”

Harry shakes his head, not budging his hands at all, not even when Louis’ hands try to pull the nappy off his lower half. “C-Can I change myself?”

Louis looks at his baby softly. He knows why he’s completely embarrassed right now. He felt everything that his body was doing when he was sprawled across his lap.
“No, baby. Let Daddy take care of you right now.”

Harry bites his lip, stopping himself from screaming a bloody murder. He whimpers instead, closing his eyes and allowing Louis to pull the nappy off his body, exposing him to the cold and fresh air. There’s a pink flush spreading across his cheeks. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to look at Louis the same way ever again.

“Oh baby, your bum is so red. I’m sorry,” Louis says, pointedly ignoring his baby’s problem. He lifts his legs up, rubbing some cream on the red spots while trying to calm his baby down with some singing. But Harry wants none of it. He quickly covers his dick with his hands when Louis turns around to throw his soiled nappy in the bin. He feels ridiculous and immature even doing it, but he can’t stop himself from wanting a little bit of privacy.

When Louis turns back around, he smiles sympathetically while gently taking Harry’s hands in his own. “Now, now,” he whispers. “You have nothing to be embarrassed of, love. It’s just your body doing its natural thing.”

Harry whimpers, clenching his jaw and eyes tight. He just wants this day to end. He doesn’t know how much worse it can get.

Louis quickly tapes a new nappy around Harry’s waist, making sure it’s snug around his hips before putting his leggings back over them. He hurriedly picks Harry up again in his arms, feeling slightly warm in his chest when the boy doesn’t fight against him. He doesn’t exactly cuddle up, but he’ll take this over flailing limbs and loud screams any day.

“I don’t want to see my baby touching himself down there, yeah?” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to his hair. He watches as Harry’s face flames bright red at that simple sentence. Louis chuckles quietly to himself. “That’s just for big boys.”

He sits down with Harry in his lap. He’s still pressed heavily against his chest, his weight starting to become heavier, which Louis assumes is because he’s tired after that whole charade.

Harry’s head feels heavy and so do his eyes. He struggles to keep them open. He kind of wants to sleep now but at the same time he wants to spend his time snuggled up close to Louis’ chest. He likes the sound of his beating heart under his ear. It’s soothing and constant.

He closes his eyes, just listening to the sound and feeling content for five minutes while Louis puts on Mulan. For some reason, he can’t feel but oddly pleased with the way his legs curl up comfortably against his chest, his feet resting on Louis’ thighs and his head against Louis’ shoulder. Somewhere in the back of his mind, there’s a voice screaming at him telling him that this isn’t right, but he can’t figure out the reason why. Louis’ cuddling him close and he smells good and his beating heart is a comforting sound in Harry’s ear.

Maybe, if Harry’s lucky, he’ll let him snuggle up close to him tonight right before bedtime when they read a story together.

Harry thinks about it, suddenly becoming aware of his thoughts and bolting upright in Louis’ lap. The blood drains from his face, his eyes widening and instantly, he begins squirming around, desperate for Louis to let him go.

He doesn’t like the thoughts in his head right now. He doesn’t want any comfort from the man that just spanked him and changed his nappy and saw him with a hard on. His face immediately flushes at the memory and he kind of just wants to bury his face in a pillow and pretend like nothing ever happened.

It’s too bad that the memory is still as crystal clear as ever.

“Let me go,” he says, wiggling in Louis’ lap. Louis sets him next to him on the couch and if Harry had any control over his limbs, he’d crawl to the other side. Instead, he allows his upper body to fall over, scooting his way up the couch so that he can lie down on the opposite side of Louis, curling his limbs into his chest and crying into his tucked knees.
“Shh,” Louis whispers, grabbing a blanket and wrapping him up tight in it. It has a big teddy bear on the front that says ‘I love you beary much.’ If Harry weren’t so upset right now, he’d probably smirk. “What’s got you crying, love?” Louis says quietly, wiping away more tears from his baby’s cheeks.

Harry hiccups, shaking his head and burying it in the pillow. He’s confused. And embarrassed. And sad. And he just wants some kind of comfort when he knows that he shouldn’t. He doesn’t understand why he has these conflicting thoughts about Louis holding him. One moment he wants to be cuddled close, and the next he wants to be as far away from him as possible.

He lets out a little whine.

“Oh, baby,” Louis says, scooting closer to him on the couch. He plays with his hair, wrapping his long curls around his finger. “I can’t help you unless you talk to me, darling.”

Harry stuffs his face farther into the pillow, feeling the tears soak his skin. “Don’t wanna talk,” he cries.

“I think it’ll make you feel better, honey.”

Harry knows that it’ll make him feel better. His mum was a firm believer in talking things through and so he knows for a fact how much better he always felt after talking to her about things that made him sad.

He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly and unsteadily before rolling over onto his back and looking at Louis. The older boy lets out a soft ‘aw, sweetie,’ rubbing his hand up and down his arm and over his tear stained face.

“I feel…confused,” Harry says miserably. “And…’mbarrassed.”

Louis coos, hugging his arms around Harry’s middle. The younger boy freezes, wanting to melt into his embrace but also wanting to push himself away. Louis can sense it, pulling back a bit and putting a little space in between him.

“Why are you confused, baby?”

Harry huffs. He doesn’t know how to put his feelings into words. He knows how he feels and he wishes that Louis would understand.

“Do you have confused feelings towards me?” Louis continues.

Harry meekly nods his head, more tears crawling down his face.

“You know, sweetie, I had some confusing feelings towards you when you first arrived, too.”

Harry stares at him, waiting for him to go on. He remembers the first day with Louis. His behavior was nothing like it is today. He was so against this whole baby thing, it always surprised Harry how much he changed in such little time.

“You did?” Harry mumbles.

Louis nods his head. “A huh. But I had a great friend, whom you're going to meet very soon, help me through those confusing feelings and now the only feeling I’m consciously aware of is how much I love you.” He briefly stops to smile softly at Harry, and Harry can’t help but feel a soft flutter in his stomach. His chest feels warm and he can't decide if he likes the feeling or not. “I love you so, very much, baby. I like that you talking to me about how you’re feeling. Pretty soon, you won’t feel so embarrassed and confused.”

Harry thinks about his words, wanting to ask him more about his conflicting feelings towards him in the beginning.

“I don’t understand how you changed within one day, though,” he mumbles his thoughts aloud.

Louis doesn’t say anything for a little, just smiles softly at him before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead and standing up. “You don’t need to worry about that right now, pumpkin. Why don’t you take a nap? You seem very tired, little one and it’s your nap time now, anyway.”

Harry wants to keep pushing him for answers. His behavior towards him was always something that confused him. But, he can’t deny his heavy eyelids right now. With one last glance at Louis, Harry closes his eyes and falls asleep moments later, not realizing that Louis presses a quick kiss to his nose while murmuring a string of soft ‘I love you’s in his ear.

Chapter Text

Harry stirs in his sleep, starting to wake up from his nice, little nap. He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep, but he knows it hasn’t been for very long when he sees that Mulan is still playing on the screen. His mind is a little foggy having just woken up, so he closes his eyes, snuggling deeper into the warm blankets and enjoying the cozy feeling.

After having that short conversation with Louis, he feels a little…different. He’s not sure how or why but he can’t deny this new feeling, and he’s not sure if he likes it or not. He kind of wants Louis to cuddle him close and he kind of wants Louis to hold him in his arms, but he doesn’t want to wear a nappy and he certainly doesn’t want to call him Daddy.

But other than that, it seems like this whole thing doesn’t seem too bad.

Off to his right, he hears light footsteps walking into the family room. Harry doesn’t even to need to open his eyes to know that Louis is walking towards him. He could recognize his footsteps at any time of day.

The older boy presses a trail of light kisses to Harry’s arm, working his way up to his face and peppering his cheeks, making Harry giggle and open his eyes. He makes eye contact with Louis, watching the way his smile grows on his face and the way his eyes twinkle with happiness. There’s a warmth spreading in his chest, and Harry knows that Louis must be feeling the same thing.

This time, though, he doesn’t try and diminish it.

“What a beautiful smile you have, angel,” Louis says, wrapping the blankets tighter around his baby before picking him up in his arms. Harry sits in the crook of his elbow, smiling even bigger and hiding his face in Louis’ shoulder when he feels himself start to blush. He’s not sure why he’s so bashful all of a sudden. It was only a little compliment—one that he’s been told by his mum and sister many times before. He’s not sure why it’s any different coming from Louis or why it affects him any differently. “Why are you hiding it from Daddy, you silly goose?”

Harry stills at the word for a moment, feeling a sense of immaturity buried somewhere deep in his stomach. Somewhere in his mind, he registers that this whole situation is fucked up, that he shouldn’t be sitting in this man’s arms with a smile on his face. But in the moment, he lets it go. If he’s happy for a little while, then he’s not going to be the one that makes himself miserable again.

He shrugs his shoulders, stuffing his face deeper into Louis’ neck and letting out an airy sigh when he smells Louis’ cologne. He always smells so good.

“Why don’t we go feed my happy baby his dinner, yeah?” Louis asks, already walking towards the kitchen and bouncing Harry in his arms. The younger boy smiles broader, hoping that Louis can feel his grin against his neck. “Does that sound like a good plan?”

Harry nods his head before resting his cheek against Louis’ shoulder. He can feel it squish and crinkle from the amount of pressure he has on it, and he knows that he must look a little ridiculous. He just feels so comfortable with the older boy, is the thing. It amazes him how much he trusts him right now, and how happy and important he feels.

Louis smiles fondly, feeling a sense of relief that his baby is finally starting to fall into his headspace. It seemed like his progress was moving so dauntingly slow and he’s glad that he’s finally starting to feel more comfortable.

He sets Harry down in the highchair, making sure to buckle him in and chuckle affectionately when his baby huffs at the tray in front of him that’s locked into place.

“Oh, don’t be so grumpy, love,” he says, turning around briefly to grab Harry’s plate.

Harry crosses his arms over his chest, furrowing his eyebrows and pouting out his lips. He kind of feels like a two year old at the moment, but he doesn’t really care.

“’M not grumpy,” he mumbles, narrowing his eyes in a way that he hopes comes across as being offended.

But he guesses he didn’t look mildly offended at all because Louis simply coos at him and kisses his forehead before pulling his chair up to the high chair. Harry’s heart flutters at the simple action. He likes Louis’ kisses whether he wants to admit it or not. There’s no denying how the simple press of his lips to his forehead makes him feel loved and cozy.

“Of course not, love. Now, open up so we can get you fed, my baby boy.”

Harry blushes, opening his mouth so that Louis can feed him. It’s times like these where he feels maybe a little less than enthusiastic about his new lifestyle. He doesn’t particularly like being fed by Louis, but he supposes it’s something he’ll have to get used to.

“Does my Hazza baby like his dinner?” Louis asks, wiping away some of the pasta sauce that managed to get on the side of Harry’s mouth.

Harry nods his head, avoiding eye contact with Louis. It’s not that he’s mad at Louis right now. He’s just feeling a bit embarrassed, if he’s honest. He knows that Louis’ just trying to get him fed and happy, but sometimes Harry wishes he could do some things for himself.

“I’m so proud of you for eating without a fuss,” Louis continues, smiling affectionately before loading more pasta onto his fork. Harry smiles to himself. He hates that just his simple sentence is making him feel so flustered. He likes to make Louis proud, so if he has to go through a little bit of embarrassment, then so be it. At least he makes Louis happy.

He continues to eat his entire plate of dinner, finishing off the water in his sippy cup and watching as Louis takes some more medicine from the same orange container that he saw on one of his first days here. He wishes he could read the label, but Louis quickly puts it away before he could get the chance.

“What is that?” Harry asks, gesturing towards the medicine cabinet above the stove. Louis turns around, following his pointing finger before he pulls his smile down into a frown.
“Just some medicine, baby. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Harry furrows his eyebrows, still staring at the closed cabinet as if he could see right through it. “That’s what you told me last time.”

Louis walks towards him, unlatching the tray in front of his baby and hoisting him up into his arms. Harry pulls away so he can look the older boy in the eyes, wanting to know what exactly it is that he takes.

“It’s just some medicine that helps Daddy through the day, pumpkin. No need to worry about it,” he says, walking into the family room and setting Harry down on the colorful rug with animals and numbers. Harry has concluded this must be his designated play area. There’s a box of toys in the corner of the room and shelves of books above it. “Do you want to go pick out a toy to play with before we go take a bath, read and get ready for bed?”

Harry hesitates, not completely sure why Louis doesn’t want to talk about the medicine. He looks at Louis confused, raising his eyebrows slightly in hopes that Louis will continue more about it. But, unfortunately for him, Louis doesn’t interpret his facial features as such.

“Or we can go take a longer bath now and then get ready for bed,” he suggests, already getting ready to scoop up his baby in his arms. Harry shakes his head frantically, already scrambling over to the toy box and grabbing the first thing he sees. He doesn’t want to be bathed right now. If he can postpone being naked in front of Louis, then he’ll do it.

“Let’s play with Lego’s,” he says quietly, setting them in front of Louis and plopping down in front of him so that he’s facing the older boy. He can feel his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he looks down at his hands. He doesn’t really want to play with Lego’s, or any toy for that matter, but he’d rather do this than be bathed.

“Are you going to join me in playing with me this time, baby?” Louis asks, already grabbing a handful of Lego’s in his hand, and dropping them between the two of them. Harry bites his lip, wanting to say ‘no,’ but ultimately nodding his head a fraction of an inch.

“Can you play, too?” he whispers.

He figures that it won’t be as humiliating if Louis plays with him too. Well, as long as he doesn’t use his stupid baby voice. He still hates it. He’d much rather prefer his normal, high and light voice than his high and squeaky voice.

“Of course, baby,” Louis says softly, brushing Harry’s hair out of his eyes. Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling, but he knows that his cheeks have betrayed him when he feels them warm up significantly. He likes it when Louis touches him. He likes to be cuddled and touched softly by the older boy.

Harry pushes some Lego’s into Louis’ hand, frantically trying to push his previous thoughts away. He’s still a little concerned with his feelings, but he’s trying hard to let it go and see where it takes him.

“How about we build the tallest tower,” Louis suggests, smiling broadly at his baby, and Harry can’t help but smile back this time. He just likes the way Louis’ eyes sparkle whenever he shows excitement.

“Okay,” he says quietly, pushing down on his Lego piece on top of the one that Louis had previously laid down. He looks up from underneath his eyelashes, smiling a little before adding more and more Lego’s to the tower.

Harry can’t believe it, but he’s actually having fun. He’s enjoying his time playing Lego’s with Louis. He likes the way the older boy will scream out ‘Godzilla attack!’ and knock over the whole building. He likes the way he’ll occasionally build Harry a house for his Lego person. He likes the way Louis guides him in playtime while still allowing Harry to choose exactly what he wants to build.

He almost wants to go plop himself down right in the middle of Louis’ lap and giggle when Louis crashes his Lego plane into their Lego tower.

But Harry figures he’ll save that for another time. He’s not brave enough to do that quite yet.

“I like playing with you, Louis,” he whispers quietly when there’s a lull in their conversation. He focuses his attention on his hands, too afraid to look at Louis. He knows it’s silly to be scared. Louis probably loves hearing that from him. But even still, Harry can’t help but keep his focus on the Lego’s in his hands and the tower that he’s rebuilding for the third time.

“What was that?” Louis asks, scooting closer to Harry. “You like to play with me, do you?” The younger boy smiles, hearing the mocking tone in his voice and tucking his chin against his chest to hide his grin. “Even when I…tickle you?”

Before Harry can even protest, Louis’ fingers are digging into his ribs, eliciting a loud squeal that surprises both himself and Louis. He swats at his hands, laughing and squirming desperately to get away from Louis.

“Stop!”

“What’s the magic word, love?”

Harry laughs loudly, throwing his head back when Louis finds the worst spot. “P-please,” he screams.

“Okay, if you say so,” Louis says, pulling his hands away and pressing a quick kiss to Harry’s head. He cuddles him in his arms, waiting until the younger boy catches his breath while softly toying with his curls.

Harry hums, pushing himself closer to the man and feeling himself smile in content. He likes this. Maybe a little too much. But he doesn’t want to pull away quite yet, and he’s not sure if he’ll ever want to pull away at this point.

“Why don’t we start cleaning up now, pumpkin? We’ve been playing for an hour and a half now and it’s cutting into someone’s bath time.”

Harry’s eyes widen, having momentarily forgotten that he’s supposed to have a bath after he was done playing. He turns around in Louis’ arms, shaking his head and murmuring out a string of ‘no’s.

“I know you don’t want to, sweetie, but we have to get you all cleaned up,” he says softly, already reaching around the boy in his arms to pick up some of the scattered pieces on the carpet.

“Can’t we just play a little more?” Harry whines quietly. He really doesn’t feel like being bathed.

“No, baby. It’s time to clean up,” Louis says firmly, patting Harry’s leg to get him to move and help clean up the Lego’s on the ground.

Harry huffs, reluctantly picking up the toys and putting them back in the bucket where he got them from. He moves slowly, purposely trying to waste as much time as he possibly can, and he’s sure that Louis sees this because he works just as fast as Harry is moving slow.

He rolls his eyes when Louis’ not looking.

“Okay, sweetie, let’s go upstairs now, yeah?” Louis says, scooping Harry up in his arms and carrying him up to the bathroom.

Harry stays quiet the whole time. He’s dreading the thing that’s bound to happen and he grimaces as soon as Louis sets him on his feet while he draws water into the bathtub. He crosses his arms over his chest, glancing at the bathroom door, and briefly wondering if he could somehow manage to run away and lock himself in the nursery so that he wouldn’t have to take a bath.

He’d probably get punished for that though. He’s not sure if it’s really worth it.

“Harry,” Louis says over his shoulder. Harry immediately turns his attention back to him, his eyes wide, thinking that he had voiced his thoughts out loud that whole time. “Sweetie, do you have to use the potty before we get you in the bathtub?”

Harry furrows his eyebrows before a smile blooms across his face. Is Louis actually letting him use the toilet this time? He’s just about to run into Louis’ arms and pepper his face with kisses before Louis turns around and sees how excited he is.

“I mean your nappy, love. Do you have to use your nappy?”

Harry’s smiles instantly falls, his face instantly becoming red and flushed. He should’ve known, really. Just because he had fun playing with Lego’s with Louis doesn’t mean that he’ll suddenly drop the rules he’s already made very clear.

“No,” he says fast, trying to push away the subject.

“Can you try for Daddy, please?”

“I don’t have to go,” he says, shaking his head and taking a step away from Louis.

Louis doesn’t take a step closer to him. He knows he’s scaring his baby, and he doesn’t want him to afraid. He just wants him to feel comfortable around him. “You haven’t gone in a very long time, honey. I’m sure you have something in your system that needs to be released. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Harry winces, looking down at his pigeon toed feet. He knows there’s no way out of this. Louis is always adamant about using his nappy, and today is no different.

“I’ll give you some privacy while you do your thing,” Louis says, already turning around and busying himself with the water temperature in the bath.

Harry bites his lip, feeling his cheeks heat up when he looks up at the ceiling and focuses on relieving himself. He doesn’t know how he does it, but somehow he manages to do so. He waits a little, his back still facing Louis as he fidgets with his fingers and trying to blink back the tears. There’s no point in trying to force them back though, they always manage to fall whenever he does something embarrassing.

He turns around slowly, anxiously waiting for Louis to notice him. He feels awkward, and he distinctly feels the warm and heavy nappy around his hips. He clears his throat loudly, watching as Louis turns around with a sympathetic smile.

“Are you all done, baby?”

Harry silently nods his head, not daring to take a step closer to him even though he knows he’s going to have to walk towards him very soon. He wipes at his eyes, blinking rapidly in an attempt to stop more tears from coming out.

He’s so tired of crying.

“Oh baby,” Louis whispers, holding his arms open wide for Harry to step into. The boy falls heavily into his arms, burying his head against his chest and letting his tears fall freely, soaking Louis’ t-shirt completely. “Shh,” he whispers in his ear, running his fingers through his curly hair. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

Harry presses himself closer to the older boy, practically knocking Louis over from the strong embrace. He’s just so ashamed of himself.

Louis pulls away briefly, wiping away the tears and hair from his eyes. “Harry, do you want to tell Daddy what happened?”

Harry stares at him, feeling his bottom lip tremble. He wants to press his gaze into a glare, but he’s too embarrassed to do that. His eyes fall to his feet again, feeling himself flush under Louis’ eyes. He hates telling the older boy that he’s just pissed himself. He knows that Louis wants him to become accustomed to telling him, but damn it—why can’t he just pretend like it never happened? It’s embarrassing as it is, does Harry really need to say that he’s made a mess of himself aloud?

He frowns, keeping his gaze on his toes.

“I pissed myself,” he utters angrily.

Louis smacks his bum, causing Harry to squeak in surprise. It was a warning, he knows, but he’d much rather have a verbal warning than a physical warning. It’s not like it hurt at all, but even still, it makes him cover his bum with his hands, feeling more tears collect in the corners of his eyes.

“I don’t like that language, Harry. Do you want to try again?”

Harry wants to scream ‘no,’ but he knows that it won’t get him anywhere except in time out. He doesn’t feel like being put on the step. He’d much rather be cuddled up with Louis on the couch downstairs.

“I’m…wet,” he whispers, feeling defeated. He hangs his head low, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and hide under some blankets.

“Have you wet yourself, baby?”

Harry nods his head shakily, feeling more tears crawl down his cheeks even though he can feel his blood boiling with anger underneath his skin. He just told Louis that he’s wet! Does he really feel the need to reiterate what he’s done? It’s humiliating as it is.

Louis pulls him in close to his chest, holding him tight in his arms. “Can you tell Daddy what you want him to do?”

Harry knew that was coming. Really, he did. But he still feels a rush of irritation and shock run through his body. Why can’t Louis just change him wordlessly? Why does he always need words? That’s one of Harry’s biggest pet peeves.

“Change me,” he mutters into the fabric of Louis’ shirt. He prays to every god that Louis won’t make him repeat that sentence because he didn’t hear. He’s not sure if he could do it.

“Can you say please for me, sweetie?”

“Please,” he bites out. He’s glad that his face is pressed against his chest. At least Louis can’t see his red cheeks.

“And can you say Daddy?”

Harry whines loudly, falling to the floor away from Louis and burying his face against his knees. He just wants all of this to be over already.

“Daddy,” he whispers.

Louis scoots closer to him, wrapping his arm around the boy’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple.

“I’m so proud of you baby. Let’s get you cleaned up now and then we’ll take a bath. How does that sound?”

Horrible. That’s what Harry wants to say. It’s horrible and he hates this part of being a baby. Everything else is alright, he supposes, but being changed and bathed is what really pushes him over the edge.

He stays silent instead, figuring that he’d rather not be punished for his choice of words.

Besides, the faster he gets through the changing and bath, the faster he’ll get to sit in Louis’ lap while they read a book together before bedtime.

Louis lays him down on the towel, stripping him of his soiled nappy and cleaning him real quick. Harry stares up at the ceiling, trying not to flinch too much whenever he feels the cold wipe against his skin.

He doesn’t succeed all that well.

“We’re all done, baby,” Louis says, picking him up and setting him in the bathtub. Harry immediately puts his hands over his private bits, wishing that the water wasn’t so clear. Was it too much to ask for some bubbles? “And look,” Louis adds, turning around briefly to grab something from the cabinet under the sink. “I have toys.”

Harry watches warily as he places them in the water. It’s a rubber duck and a boat. He looks back at Louis with raised eyebrows. He may have played Lego’s with him earlier today, but at least Lego’s aren’t so degrading and childish. These look as though they were made specifically for a one year old.

Louis smiles fondly, taking the boat and pushing it in circles around Harry. One of these days, Harry knows that he’s going to fall into his headspace and he’s going to laugh and giggle at the stupid noises Louis’ making with his mouth, but until that day comes, Harry will gladly sit in this tub and do the bare necessities of bath time.

When Louis discovers that Harry has no interest in the toys, he begins to lather the soap onto his body, trying to do it as fast and efficient as he can possibly muster.

“Daddy invited some friends over to our house tomorrow, Hazza. They have a son about your age.”

Harry sits up straighter, watching as Louis pours some shampoo into his hand. He waits for him to talk more about his friends, but instead all Louis says is ‘head back, babe,’ while he lathers the shampoo into his hair.

Harry’s thoughts are scattered, completely all over the place. He wants to know more about his friends. Are they part of The Babysitting Company, too?

“Does he…um,” Harry starts, not really wanting to finish his sentence. He opens one of his eyes to see if Louis understands what he’s trying to say.

“What is it you’re trying to ask, love?”

Harry closes his eye again. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, just focusing on his breathing and the way Louis cups his hands around his face so the shampoo doesn’t go into his eyes as he rinses it out.

“Do your friends…do they wear nappies, too?”

“Niall does, yes,” Louis says. “Zayn and Liam are his Daddies. But you have nothing to be embarrassed about, love. All three of them are all very nice.”

Harry looks at his toes underneath the water, watching himself wiggle them around. “And he’s…my age?”

Louis nods his head, helping his baby boy stand up and wrap the towel around his shoulders. “Yes, sweetie. He’s only a few months older than you.” He smiles warmly at Harry, and Harry wants to smile back, but he’s nervous. He can’t explain why, but he just feels a bundle of nerves in his stomach. “I think you’ll like him a lot, honey. He’s funny.”

Harry nods his head, not trusting himself to ask any more questions. He can feel the hole in his throat start to form and he knows it’s a warning that more tears are going to start flowing. He presses his lips together before wrapping his arms around Louis, tucking his chin into his neck.

He smiles just a little when he feels Louis hug him back, rocking them both back and forth. He could get used to Louis’ hugs.

Chapter Text

“Are you ready to meet Niall, baby cakes?”

Harry doesn’t answer. He’s nervous. He knows it’s silly to be nervous to meet someone new, but there are lots of little butterflies in his tummy. That’s what Louis told him, at least. He tried to explain to him earlier that his tummy was feeling ill but Louis said that there were just little, tiny butterflies in there. They were harmless, apparently. But Harry still didn’t like them one bit. They made him feel antsy.

“What’s the matter, buttercup?” Louis asks, cuddling his baby closer to his chest.

Harry snuggles as close as he can to the man, stuffing his face into the fabric of his t-shirt. Truly, he’d rather just spend the day with Louis by himself. He doesn’t want to meet a new person. And he certainly doesn’t want to share him with another boy.

“I don’t wanna meet ‘im,” he whines.

He pulls away from Louis and sticks out his bottom lip, knowing that the older boy is a sucker for his pouty look. That’s how he got out of cleaning up his toys this morning.

Louis had insisted that he clean up his cars and rocket ships, but Harry gave him his big eyes and bottom lip and almost immediately, Louis had sighed and helped Harry clean up the toys. And if Harry only put away one car while his Daddy did the rest of the work…well then it was only for Harry to know. He may be young, but he certainly knows how to charm Louis.

“None of that, love,” Louis says, lightly tracing his lip with his finger and pushing it back to its original position. Harry huffs, frowning at him with a wrinkled forehead. “You’re gonna love Niall! He’s lots of fun.”

Maybe he is fun. But Harry still didn’t like the idea of having someone new over. He just really likes Louis, and he wants to be around him, and only him, at all hours of the day.

He whines, stuffing his face back into his shoulder. Louis chuckles fondly, rubbing his hands up and down the length of his back and down to the edge of his nappy. His heart warms at the mere image of his baby finally cuddling with him after these rough few days. He’s not sure how or when it started, but lately Harry has been extremely cuddly, finally regressing almost completely into the toddler stage.

There’s still a little bit of hesitation on Harry’s end, especially when they switch to new activities. Sometimes, Harry feels a bit shy, but as soon as Louis encourages the boy with kind words and shows him that they can act silly together, the younger boy easily falls into step. He accepts the food Louis gives him for breakfast, he plays with his toys wholeheartedly, and he even likes to point at drawings in the picture books that Louis reads to him before nap time. The only problems Louis is still facing are nappy changes and bath time, but he’s hoping that it’ll get easier soon.

“But, I want to spend more time with you,” Harry mumbles into Louis’ shoulder.

Louis tries his absolute hardest to hold back a coo. It’s just so cute. He’s definitely not used to this type of behavior from Harry.

“They’re only coming over for lunch, honey.”

Harry groans, resting his cheek on Louis’ shoulder. “Too long.”

Louis shushes him and stands up when the door bell rings, no doubt that it’s Liam, Zayn, and Niall at the door. “If you’re good then we can get some ice cream afterwards, yeah?”

Harry perks up at that. He sits up straighter in his arms, smiling broadly at Louis and enthusiastically nodding his head. “I can be good!”

Louis chuckles, tickling his tummy and smiling when Harry squirms away from his fingers. “That’s my sweet baby,” he says, opening the door and waving at the three boys outside. He can feel Harry press his face closer to the crook of his neck, probably too shy and nervous to greet his new friends. “Hi Zayn, Liam. And hello Mr. Nialler. How are you today?”

Harry closes his eyes, wanting to disappear into Louis’ chest. He’s too scared to pick his head up off of Louis’ shoulder and look at the other boy. What if Louis had lied to him and Niall really doesn’t wear nappies just like him? What if he’s a normal person and he makes fun of Harry for watching Princess movies?

“Papa says that today is gonna be a really fun day, Louis, so I’m really, very, super happy to be here because I really like fun days,” Harry hears someone speak behind him. His voice is high and his words are fast, and Harry kind of wants to smile because he said Papa. “Oh, and Daddy also told me lotsa and lotsa times in the car to say thank you when I got here, so thank you for inviting me, Louis, I really, really like being here.”

Harry hesitantly picks his head up off Louis’ shoulder, peeking out with one eye and seeing a boy with blond hair, standing in between two older men. The man on the left has short, brown hair and warm eyes. They remind Harry of chocolate, which reminds him that he has to be a good boy if he wants to get some ice cream later. The man on the right has a sharp jaw line and tan skin. Harry’s eyes slowly travel to the boy in the middle, wearing a blue and green striped shirt and jeans, but Harry can distinctly tell that there’s some padding underneath it.

“You’re absolutely welcome, Niall,” Louis says, taking a step to the right and guiding them all towards the kitchen.

Harry keeps his chin resting on Louis’ shoulder as he walks, keeping his eyes locked on Niall who holds his Daddies’ hands in his own behind him. Niall offers him a small smile.
“Hi Harry. This is my Daddy,” he says, looking towards the man with the beautiful skin and pretty face. “And this is Papa.” He looks at the other man with the chocolate brown eyes.

Harry stares at him for a second, biting his lip with nerves in his tummy. The butterflies are back, and he’s decided, this time, that he really doesn’t like those butterflies.

He hesitantly waves at Niall, feeling a tad too nervous to say anything to the strange boy, but wanting to acknowledge and befriend him. He seems nice. And Harry wants a new friend.

“Look Daddy! He waved at me!” Niall squeals, skipping a little as he continues to walk hand in hand with his two daddies. “Guess what, Harry? Papa bought me a wagon yesterday and I wanted to bring it here and show you and pull you around in it, but Daddy said that it was too big and that we couldn’t bring it.” He stops briefly to frown down at his feet and Harry giggles against Louis’ shoulder. He likes Niall. He talks a lot, which makes him feel better because he’s too shy to say anything right now. “Do you like to play with wagons, Harry? Because maybe—if Louis lets you—one day you can come over to my house and we can play in the wagon together and go on adventures! Like…to the moon!”

Harry grins, nodding his head up and down vigorously and hoping that his enthusiastic head nod will suffice as an answer. Louis pats his back, rubbing calming circles into his soft onsie and a gentle kiss to his temple.

“Harry would probably love that Nialler,” Louis says for his baby, knowing that he’s a little overwhelmed at the moment. He gingerly sets Harry down in his high chair and locks the tray into place. “Wouldn’t you, baby?”

Harry nods his head again, smiling at Niall who’s being pulled sideways onto his Daddy’s lap. “What color is it?” he whispers into the hands that are covering his mouth. He looks at Niall with wide eyes, hoping real bad that it’s blue—like the color of Louis’ eyes, maybe, because that’s a pretty color.

“It’s a red wagon,” Niall says, sitting up straighter in Liam’s lap, excited that Harry is starting to talk to him. “It’s real pretty, Harry. My Daddy helped Papa paint it because it was originally just an ugly brown color, and so they painted it a bright, red color because red is my favorite color, I think.”

Harry smiles brightly at him, a little disappointed that it isn’t actually blue, but pushing it aside. If Niall thinks it’s cool, then it must be cool.

“Maybe one day we can meet you guys at the park and you can bring your red wagon, Niall,” Louis says, placing a plate of food in front of him and Harry. It’s spaghetti today. Harry’s mouth waters at the sight. “Would you like that, baby?”

Harry looks at him, nodding his head excitedly. “Wanna play in the wagon,” he whispers, passing a small smile in Niall’s direction and then stuffing his face into his arms when he feels his cheeks start to warm up. He doesn’t know why he’s blushing, but he can’t find a reason as to why he really cares.

Louis coos at him, combing through his curly hair gently with his fingers. “We’ll arrange it soon, sweetie.”

“Yeah,” Niall says loudly from the other side of the table, bouncing up and down in his Daddy’s lap. “We should do it tomorrow, Papa! If we do it tomorrow then Harry can see my red wagon and we can play in it together and I can show him how cool it is!”

Harry picks his head up just in time to see his Daddy press a soft kiss to his hair, making the blond boy smile extra big. “That sounds great, Nialler, but unfortunately you have a dentist appointment tomorrow.”

Niall crosses his arms over his chest, pushing out his bottom lip, just like Harry had done earlier today. He briefly wonders if Niall knows any other ways to trick his daddies into getting what he wants. Harry will have to ask him later when Louis leaves the room.

“We don’t have to go to the dentist,” Niall mumbles.

His Daddy hands his young boy a fork, saying something along the lines of ‘we can’t blow off the dentist, little man,’ but Harry is too preoccupied with the fact that Niall can feed himself while Louis continues to bring forkfuls of spaghetti to his own lips.

How come Niall can feed himself but Louis won’t let Harry feed himself? He furrows his eyebrows at Louis, pulling his face away from the bit of spaghetti on the fork in front of his face and frowning up at him.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

Harry huffs, pointedly looking at the fork and then lifts his eyes to glance at Niall where he’s busy missing his mouth entirely with the fork, leaving a trail of red sauce on his cheeks. His Daddy clucks his tongue at him, wiping away the sauce with a napkin and reminding the boy to slow down.

“Niall is a little older than you, sweet cheeks,” Louis says, noticing his baby’s longing glance over at the other baby in the kitchen. He realizes that Harry just wants to be a little more independent, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s ready for that sort of thing quite yet. He’s just his little baby boy. “Maybe one day you can feed yourself, but Daddy is gonna feed you right now, okay?”

Harry kicks his feet out, getting ready to yell, but Niall’s voice cuts him off.

“I wish my Daddy would still feed me,” Niall says. “Daddy told me that I have to feed myself at least once a day so that my muscles can stay in shape but I don’t really know what that means. But I still make him feed me at breakfast and dinner. You’re lucky, Harry. I wish I could be hand fed like you at every meal.”

Louis smiles at him, sending a silent prayer his way when Harry looks back at him and offers a small smile. Having Niall over was definitely a good choice on Louis’ part. It seems like it’s allowing for Harry to settle further into his headspace.

---

Much to Louis’ surprise, Harry starts talking more and more to Niall and before he even knew it, his baby was holding Niall’s hand and leading him to the box of toys in the family room. Louis has to bite his lip just to keep his smile at bay while he cleans the kitchen up from lunch.

“You’re still taking medication, Lou?” Liam asks behind him, holding up the small orange container in his hands. He’s looking at it disapprovingly.

“Yeah, I guess,” he shrugs, knowing that it’s kind of a big deal, but he doesn’t really want to make it seem like that.

Zayn takes the plate from his hands, drying it and putting it in the dishwasher for him. “You know you don’t have to, right? They’re probably useless to you now.”

Louis realizes that. That’s exactly what Valerie from The Babysitting Company had told him that first day when Harry arrived. After visiting the Company with her that afternoon, they had shown him a compilation of videos where Daddies helped their babies. At first, he thought it was absolute rubbish, but as the videos continued on, he realized that it really didn’t seem all that bad. He actually kind of liked the idea of taking care of another person.

Although Valerie knew that Louis had fully slipped into his headspace (and would probably remain there for a very, long time), she still gave him some medication, just to make sure that he stayed there.

Louis’ not even sure how it all works, exactly. It has something to do with the wirings in his brain and how different neuropaths have been created. Ultimately, it creates this overwhelming sensation of wanting to help a poor and defenseless baby. That’s what Valerie had told him, at least. He figures there’s a lot more to it than that, but it’s way too complicated for him to fully understand how it works.

Regardless, Louis has been taking the medicine every morning. He knows that he doesn’t have to, but it makes him nervous to think that without it, he may potentially fall out. He doesn’t think it’ll happen, but still, he’s a little skeptical. What if he stops taking it, and he goes back to the original Louis? Or what if he falls out of this headspace and he causes some serious damage to his baby’s headspace?

He doesn’t even want to think about all the possibilities.

“I guess I’m a little afraid,” he says to Liam and Zayn, taking a seat at the table. He looks up at them, looking for some kind of advice. They’ve been through the same thing, not even six months ago. Both of them were on the same medicine, but have since then stopped taking it. They haven’t changed one bit, though.

“You won’t hurt Harry by not taking it, Louis,” Liam says, already knowing his friend’s first thought. “I can’t even begin to describe to you how good it feels to stop taking them and realizing that you don’t need it to be a good father to your baby.”

Louis nods his head, listening intently to his words. It probably does feel good. The medicine itself doesn’t exactly taste good—tastes almost like metallic. He nearly gags every time he takes it. Maybe stopping would be good for him.

“Have you ever had some doubts?” he questions them.

Both fathers shake their heads, their smiles growing a little wider. “Not at all,” Zayn says. “I never once questioned what I was doing. It just feels…right.”

Liam nods his head. “Yeah. The medicine isn’t doing anything for you anymore, Lou. It’s already done what it needs to do—it created a new pathway in your brain. Think of it like this,” he says, leaning his elbows on the table and hunching forward. “The medicine is like a key that opens a door to new places. This new place just so happened to be a more caring and fatherly-like place. And now that it’s open, the door stays unlocked and now you just have this key that has no use. You might as well toss it away, yeah?”

Louis nods his head, liking the explanation that Liam used. If that’s the way the medicine works, then he supposes that it really is quite useless to keep taking it. “Yeah,” he says, standing up and walking to the medicine cabinet. He grabs the medication and stores it in the way back, hiding it behind some other important bottles. “You’re right.”

There’s a crash behind them, followed by a quiet little “oopsie” and two small giggles. Louis turns around in his seat, smiling instantly when he sees Harry crawling on his hands and knees with Niall right behind him. The boys are giggling at each other, Niall putting his finger up to his lips as a signal to be quiet.

“What are two silly boys doing, huh?” Liam asks, standing up to go pick up Niall. He settles the boy on his hip, bouncing him up and down.
Louis picks Harry up and blows a raspberry on his baby’s cheek, laughing when his baby shrieks with laughter.

“Did you two have fun today?” he asks, glancing between the two boys who have rosy cheeks and tired eyes.

“I had lots of fun today,” Harry says, squeezing Louis’ cheeks between his two hands.

“Me too!” Niall says, “can we go to the park now, Daddy? I still want to show Harry my wagon because he said he’s never been in a wagon before and I really want to show him how cool it is! Do you think we could go right now?”

Liam chuckles fondly, walking towards the front door with Zayn next to him. “Not today, bud. But we’ll make sure that you and Harry have another play date soon, yeah?” Niall whines, frowning when he sees his father put on his shoes. “Can you say bye-bye to Harry?”

Niall twists in his Daddy’s arms, waving his hand frantically back and forth. “Bye Harry! I’m sorry that I can’t show you my cool new wagon today, but hopefully I’ll get to show you it soon!”

Harry giggles, waving back at him and offering a small ‘bye’ as Louis closes the door behind the three men. He looks up at Louis and presses a shy kiss to his cheek and then promptly shoves his face against his neck as to hide his blush.

“I like Niall, Daddy.”

Louis’ eyes widen before they start to sparkle with absolute delight. It was the first time Harry has called him Daddy willingly. And it was also the first time he has ever shown any sort of affection towards him.

He kisses Harry’s temple once, pulling him in closer to his chest and basking in the warmth that he feels in his chest. “Me too, babe.” He walks back to the kitchen, squeezing Harry a little tighter than normal. “Now, how about some of that ice cream I promised you earlier?”

Chapter Text

It’s been two months with Harry already, and Louis can’t believe how fast time has already passed. It seems like just yesterday, he picked Harry up and brought him home, and now he’s always looped under his arm and wrapped around his waist. They’re inseparable, just the way they like it.

He put Harry down for his nap a little while ago, and during that time Louis was supposed to clean up the kitchen mess that came from breakfast. But instead, he finds himself walking into the toy room—they had moved all of Harry’s growing stash of toys and costumes and stuffed animals to the guest room when the toy box grew too big for the family room—and sets up for a tea party that he knows Harry will enjoy.

He looks at the table, smiling softly to himself as he imagines Harry’s surprise when he sees that everything is set up already, along with his favorite stuffed animal, Henry the Giraffe, sitting at one of the chairs. He can imagine Harry’s expression when he takes it all in—probably all smiles and excited squeals—and it instantly makes Louis feel warm inside, knowing that his baby will be so happy.

He starts to walk out of the room when he trips over Harry’s tiara that lies at the edge of the costume chest. He mumbles under his breath, making a mental note to tell Harry that he needs to remember to put things away so that Daddy won’t trip over things, but before he can even finish that thought, a new idea pops into his brain and he immediately starts to prepare for it.

Now, fifteen minutes later, Louis enters Harry’s nursery, rubbing his baby’s back and waiting until he opens his green eyes. He can’t help the smile on his face. He’s just so excited to see how his baby is going to react to everything. Somewhere in the back of Louis’ brain, he knows that Harry will be very excited, but he’s still a little nervous.

“Harry,” he whispers, rubbing soothing circles into the back of his onsie. “It’s time to get up sleepy boy.”

He toys with his handwritten invitation in one hand while twisting the stem of a red tulip in the other. He had picked the flower in the garden just a few minutes ago, knowing how much Harry loves flowers. He’s always begging Louis to let him pick one every time they go outside in the yard, and Louis has to patiently explain each time that they need to stay in the ground in order for them to live a long and healthy life.

“Come on, my sweet baby boy,” Louis whispers, patting his bum lightly and watching amusedly when Harry tries to swat his hand away.

Although waking up Harry is a difficult task to do, it’s easily Louis’ favorite thing to watch—simply because Harry’s wake up routine is so damn cute. He turns over onto his back, using his fist to wipe away the sleep from his eyes. There are red lines on his cheeks from the pillow and his curls are disarray and flying in every direction. Slowly, Harry opens his eyes, blinking lethargically and trying to get his eyes to adjust to the bright light in his room. He stretches his arms and legs out briefly, making quiet, little squeaky noises, then retracts them close to his body in a fetal position, letting out a big yawn. Louis coos, leaning his elbows on the crib bars. Everything about his baby makes Louis want to melt into a puddle by the crib.

“Daddy has a special delivery for his baby,” he singsongs.

Typically, every morning and afternoon, Louis is greeted with a smile as soon as Harry wakes up, but this time, Louis is greeted with an abnormally large and toothy grin that takes up his entire face along with a loud squeal.

“Daddy!” he exclaims, sitting up in bed and crawling closer to Louis. “You’re Prince Eric!”

Louis smiles at him, watching as his baby takes in the costume he’s wearing. He’s in Prince Eric’s wedding outfit—the classic white shirt with the golden buttons and sash across his body. “I have something special for you, baby.”

Harry bounces to his feet, gripping the edge of his crib tightly, his cheeks red from excitement.

Louis gets down on one knee and holds the tulip and tea party invitation up to his baby. “I would like to formally ask Prince Harry if he’d be my escort to the tea party with Queen Elsa.”

Harry’s eyes widen before he giggles and shyly takes the flower from Louis, nodding his head and biting his lip to stop himself from smiling. “Okay, Prince Eric,” he whispers, peeking up from underneath his eyelashes. His cheeks are lovely, rose color, Louis notices, and he can’t stop himself from pinching them, even though he knows Harry always bats his hands away.

“But first,” Louis says, picking Harry up in his arms and bopping his nose with a quick kiss. “Prince Harry has to get dressed in an appropriate outfit.”

Harry grins, nodding excitedly. He squirms in Louis’ arms to be let down, and with a little reluctance, Louis sets him on his feet and watches him as he scurries into the toy room and closes the door on Louis’ face.

“I wanna s‘prise you, Daddy. You wait out there ‘til ‘m done,” he calls from the other side of the door.

Louis pouts, pretending to fake hurt. “Oh, but I want to see my baby boy.”

He hears Harry sigh loudly, and Louis giggles a little at his exaggeration. “You will, Daddy,” he whines, drawing out his syllables as he says it.

“Okay, if you say so.”

He sits against the wall, leaning his head back against the door and listening to the noises coming from inside the room. He can faintly hear his baby whispering to himself, no doubt talking to Henry that sits at the table. Louis’ been catching him doing that a lot lately, which he finds endearing.

“Are you almost done, pumpkin?” he asks, leaning his ear against the door to hear his baby’s response. There’s some rustling coming from the other side, little scampering feet brushing against the carpet as he scurries around the room.

“Almost done, Daddy.”

Louis hums, resting his head against the door. “If you’re not out within another minute or two, young man, the tickle monster is going to come visit you.”

He hears a squeal from the other side, and then the door is thrown open and a bundle of pink and purple colors jumps into Louis’ lap. “No!” he shrieks, his eyes wide as he looks up at Louis with a big smile and his dimples popping out of his cheeks. He’s dressed as Anna from frozen, with a dark blue dress and a hot pink shawl draped haphazardly across his shoulders. He looks a bit disheveled, but Louis supposes it makes him that much cuter. “He already visited me this morning!” he exclaims.

Louis chuckles fondly, fixing the fabric on his baby’s shoulders and then lightly traces his fingers up and down his his arm and watching as he giggles and squirms away. “So you don’t want him to come back?”

Harry laughs loudly when Louis tickles him once underneath his ribcage—his most ticklish place. “No, Daddy!”

Louis smiles, standing up and heaving Harry up in his arms as they both go back into the toy room together. “He’s gone now. But before he left, he made sure to tell me that he thinks you look very pretty in your costume.”

Harry blushes, stuffing his face into Louis’ neck. Louis coos, feeling his heart warm up once again at the mere sight. He loves it when he sees his baby blush like that. It’s so innocent and sweet. He wishes he could paint a portrait of Harry like this—all bashful and shy with an adorable blush high on his cheeks. He’d hang it in his room so that he could wake up to it every morning and fall asleep to it every night.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, pressing his nose against Louis’ in a quick Eskimo kiss.

Louis sets Harry down in the chair next to him at the table. Porcelain cups are placed on glass plates with painted pink hearts and little, purple flowers, and Harry’s lonely tulip is placed in the vase in the center of the table. All of Harry’s stuffed animals are there, and he greets each and every one of them by name, demanding that Louis do the same and pouting when his Daddy gets the names wrong.

“Daddy, you spilled your tea!” he says with a large smile, laughing when Louis makes a disgruntled face and pretends to scream in pain from the fake tea that spilled on his lap. He giggles, accidentally pouring more tea onto his Daddy’s lap and laughing hysterically when he hollers some more.

“What’d you do that for?” Louis asks in mock horror. He widens his eyes and pulls a funny face to show Harry that he’s not truly mad. The last thing he wants is tears.

“Because you’re silly,” Harry declares, hiding his grin behind his hands. “Do you want a napkin, Daddy?” Without waiting for an answer, the boy delicately starts wiping at the invisible tea on Louis’ jeans, and then stops to look up at him with a small smile. “All gone.”

“Oh good,” Louis says, letting out a relieved and much exaggerated sigh. He wipes at his forehead, pretending there’s sweat dripping off his skin. “That really hurt.”

Harry smiles, getting ready to say something else when the doorbell rings downstairs. He frowns, looking at Louis with a confused look before he makes grabby hands at him to be picked up.

“Let’s go see who’s at the door,” Louis sings, bouncing Harry on his hip and walking downstairs.

Truthfully, he wasn’t expecting anyone today. They hardly ever get guests that come to their house, and when they do, it’s usually a play date with Niall, but they would have arranged a date a few days prior. Surely, he hadn’t forgotten a play date?

He opens the door and is startled to see Valerie at the door, smiling expectantly when she sees both men dressed up in colorful costumes.

“What are you two up to then?” she asks, pressing a quick peck to Harry’s forehead.

Louis lets her into the house, taking her coat from her and placing it gently on the hook near the door. Valerie has been here before, nearly a month ago when Harry was just getting into his headspace. Since then, he’s regressed further and by the look on her face, Louis knows that Valerie is happy to see such progress. That’s the reason why she comes frequently to Louis’ house—just to do an inspection.

“Me and Daddy are having a tea party!”

Valerie smiles, glancing between Harry and Louis. The older man notices that she has a box of chalk in her one hand. “Oh, you are! You look so pretty, Haz!” Harry blushes, offering a quiet, muffled ‘thank you.’

“D’you wanna play with us, Miss. Valerie?” he asks quietly, pressing his face closer to Louis’ neck. Louis’ noticed that he tends to do that more when he’s afraid of being rejected.

“I would love to, if you’ll let me!”

Harry wiggles in content, clapping his hands and then demands Louis to walk back to the toy room. Louis’ not sure where he got his sass from. It’s certainly not him.

“You have’ta dress up, too!” Harry says, digging around in the toy chest for a suitable costume for Valerie. Louis shares a look with her, somewhere between fond and proud, and Valerie smiles back at him. “You can be Belle,” he says, stuffing the yellow dress in her hands and grinning especially big at her.

She takes it graciously, even going so far as to curtsey at Harry as she thanks him. He giggles loudly, then suddenly goes very quiet. Louis watches him curiously, noting the way his cheeks start to tinge pink before his eyes slowly and nervously meet his.

He shifts uncomfortably on his feet, then bites his bottom lip. “Daddy,” he whispers unevenly.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

Harry fidgets with his hands, wringing them together before motioning for Louis to come closer, passing a quick glance at Valerie’s direction. “I went potty,” he whispers loudly in his ear. “Can you change me now?”

Louis scoops him up in his arms, bopping his nose gently just trying to get his baby to laugh. He can sense his nerves and embarrassment in his face. He’s usually pretty relaxed after wetting himself, but he supposes that Valerie is making him a bit nervous. “Of course, little love,” he whispers. “We’ll let Miss Valerie, here, get changed into her costume while we get you changed into a new nappy. How does that sound?”

“Good.”

They walk to the nursery, Louis laying Harry gently on the changing table and grabbing the things he needs, including a stuffed animal from the corner of the room for Harry. Lately, Louis’ noticed that Harry enjoys talking to his animals while he’s being changed. It probably takes his mind off of other things going on around him, and Louis is definitely not complaining if it means there’s no tantrum.

“Here’s Penny, sweetie,” he says, placing the stuffed horse in Harry’s hands and smiling affectionately when the boy’s eyes light up in excitement.

He pushes up his costume, then quickly unfastens the stickers to his nappy.

“Miss Valerie, Daddy, and I are having a tea party, Penny,” he hears Harry whisper into his horse’s ear. It’s not exactly a quiet whisper, but he knows Harry is trying real hard to be quiet. He chuckles fondly, running the wet wipe over his skin and quickly putting some more cream on his bum. “I think you should come, too.”

Taping another nappy snug around Harry’s hips, Louis begins to pull his dress back down and pick his baby up in his arms again. He smothers his face in kisses, listening to the way the boy laughs against his neck as they walk back into the toy room.

“Prince Harry is back!” he hears Valerie exclaim from the tea party. She bends down to curtsy at him again and then places a tiara on his head. “Care to introduce me to your fellow guests, love?”

Harry grins, squirming in Louis’ arms and then goes around the table, pointing to each of his stuffed animals and names each one. Louis watches him carefully, finding himself smiling idiotically. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

He thinks he may love the boy a little too much.

---

“He’s a very cute kid,” Valerie says, eyeing Louis over her cup of tea.

It’s nine o’clock and they’re sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea together. Harry’s fast asleep upstairs, something Louis is very fortunate about. Sometimes it can be difficult to get him to fall asleep. He’s been begging Louis to let him sleep in his bed with him lately.

“He is,” Louis agrees, absentmindedly running his fingertips over the edge of his mug. It’s one of his favorites—Harry had painted it about a week ago after they went to an arts and crafts store. It has a big, red heart with two stick figures in the middle holding hands. It’s supposed to be him and Harry.

“It seems like you have a very special connection with him.”

He does. He and Harry just click together. He has a very special bond with his baby boy, and he’s not even sure how to describe it. It just seems like they share a mutual love for each other, and he can’t decide what kind of love that is.

“What are you going to do after the third month?” she asks.

Louis frowns, he hasn’t really thought about it. It’s always been in the back of his mind, but he ultimately decided to put it there because he didn’t want to think about it. He enjoys being Harry’s Dad. He doesn’t want to give him away.

“I suppose I can’t kidnap him forever,” he mumbles, trying weakly for a joke. It falls through when he sighs at the end.

Valerie pats his hand gently. She knows how difficult it will be for him. She’s seen the way he smiles gingerly at Harry. The boy definitely has Louis wrapped around his finger.
“I suppose not,” she says, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t see him afterward.”

Louis nods solemnly, his head starting to throb with all the hypothetical thinking. “It won’t be the same though,” he mumbles. He rests his head in his hands, tracing the heart on the mug with his index finger. “He has his own family, and I’m sure he wouldn’t want to continue to be a baby. He’ll probably fall out of headspace soon enough and then he’ll be disgusted with me. That’s the only way I see it.”

Valerie smiles sadly, knowing that’s the way it often goes with the babies they hire. They usually never stick around for very long after being exposed to that kind of life for three months.

She decides against telling him that the company trains both the parents and babies to fall out of headspace after the end of their third month contract. It’s very similar to the process they had done in the beginning to get them into their desired headspace.

Louis shrugs his shoulders noncommittally. He’s trying real hard not to cry. He doesn’t like thinking about the future with Harry, because he knows he won’t have one.

“Have you talked to his family at all?” Valerie asks, interrupting the sad silence between them. “They’re probably worried about him. It’s been awhile.”

Louis shakes his head. No, he hadn’t contacted them—didn’t think about it, really. He briefly wonders if that makes him a bad person for not even thinking about his family. They must be worried sick over him.

“Should I call them and let them know he’s okay, or…?” He runs a hand through his hair, feeling a little stressed and overwhelmed. “What do normal people do in these situations, Valerie?”

“I’ve found that calling them is a good first step, and most often, they want to come visit their child.”

Louis nods his head, his thoughts swirling with new information. He still has Harry’s phone in his dresser. He can easily find his mum’s contact information and give her a call tomorrow.

“And say what exactly?” he asks sharply. “Does she know that he’s a fucking teenaged baby?”

Valerie noticeably flinches and Louis instantly feels bad, mumbling a soft apology. He doesn’t mean to get angry, but this whole conversation is kind of wearing him out.

“Just tell her how Harry’s doing and if she asks what he’s doing here, explain to her. She doesn’t need to know all the details, unless she asks to come over, which she may.”

Louis nods his head once again. His head really hurts and he kind of wants to sleep now. Valerie can see this, and she picks up her mug of tea and places it by the kitchen counter. “Let me know how it goes, yeah?” she says, grabbing her coat by the front door.

“Yeah,” Louis says, guiding her out. “Thank you, Val. For everything.”

She throws a wave over her shoulder and a soft smile. “No problem, Louis. Now, go get some rest.”

That is exactly what Louis plans on doing. He has a big day ahead of him tomorrow and he needs all the sleep he can get.

Chapter Text

Louis anxiously plays with Harry’s phone in his hands.  He has his mum’s contact pulled up on the screen and he’s been staring at it for the past five minutes, willing his finger to finally press the ‘call’ button.  He’s nervous, that’s the thing, and he firmly believes that he has every right to be nervous.  It’s not every day that you’re suddenly in charge of a teenager that you dress up in baby clothing and feed and change throughout the day.  He isn’t exactly sure how he’s even supposed to explain that to her.

How does he casually mention that her son is in a nappy again?

Louis takes one last deep breath before finally pressing the green button on the screen.  He can hear his heart thump against his rib cage, his pulse racing through his veins.  His legs feel so weak from the amount of anxiety he feels from just this one phone call.

He doesn’t even know her name.

“Harry?” he hears on the other side of the phone.  Her voice is high and alert, her words rushing together.  “Oh, Harry!  I’ve been trying to call you for days now!  You said you were gonna try and call me often!  You can’t do this to me, young man!  Where are you?  Are you okay? I’ve been so worried!”

Louis doesn’t say anything.  He’s not even sure if he can physically produce any sounds even if he tried.  He can hear the relief and anger flood through her voice, and it instantly makes him feel so guilty, knowing that he was the one that caused her to feel that variety of emotions.

“N-no,” he whispers into the line, hoping that she hears him.  His voice is so quiet and he’s not sure if he can raise it any higher.  “This isn’t Harry.  Um, my name is Louis, actually.  Uh, Louis Tomlinson.”

There’s a pause over the line and Louis holds his breath the entire time.  This is the most nerve wrecking thing he has ever experienced.  He has prepared himself for this conversation twenty times over, yet here is, fucking everything up.  He should’ve known this would happen, really.

“Where is my son?” she finally asks, worry traced in her voice.  “Is he okay?  What have you done to him?  Where is he?”

Louis frantically shakes his head, waving his one hand around as he stands up quickly from his bed.  This is not at all how he wanted this conversation to go.  He was hoping she’d be calm.  He knew she’d have questions—he’d be concerned if she didn’t have questions—but this is definitely now what he had expected.  He doesn’t even know how to answer her.

“No, no, no,” he says quickly, shaking his head back and forth and sputtering out nonsense.  “I promise, he’s fine.  He’s—”

“Daddy?” a little voice calls from behind him.  Louis cringes, knowing for a fact that Harry’s mum probably heard her son’s voice—saying ‘Daddy’ no less.  He turns around, his face growing incredibly warm between the heated conversation with Harry’s mum and the way his baby says his name.  He tries to put a smile on his face, but he’s sure it looked more pained than happy.

Harry frowns at the phone in Louis’ hand, furrowing his eyebrows when he sees Louis bring a finger to his lips to shush him.

“Is that Harry?”

Louis silently groans in his head.  Of course—of fucking course—this would happen to him.  This is an absolute disaster.  He doesn’t think anything else could get any worse than this, but he has inkling that he’s about to be proven wrong.

Harry jumps on the bed beside Louis, pouting his lips and widening his eyes.   Louis knows what he’s doing – he does that all the time when he wants something.  And Louis knows for a fact that he is a complete sucker for his traps.

 “Daddy, why aren’t you coloring with me?” he whines, stuffing some of his crayons into Louis’ hand.  “You said you’d color with me after breakfast, but now you’re talking on the phone.  I want to show you my rainbow that I drew.”

“That is Harry!” his mum cries in his ear, stress clearly prominent in her tone.  “And did he just call you Daddy?”

Louis’ eyes widen, not knowing who to respond to—the woman yelling in his ear or his little baby with the coloring book in his hands.  He looks at Harry, pulling the phone away for a split second.

“I’ll be done in five minutes, baby.  Why don’t you go wait for me in the toy room, yeah?”

He stares at Louis with a slight frown on his face, clearly unimpressed with his answer.  Louis quickly presses a kiss to his nose and then Harry’s infamous dimples return to his face and he skips out of the room with his coloring book dangling from his fingertips.

 “Louis Tomlinson,” he hears Harry’s mum say.  It’s stern, like the kind of voice a mother would use on her child when he was misbehaving.  He shivers at the tone.  He never wants to hear that ever again.  “You tell me right now what you’ve done with my son.  Why is he calling you Daddy?  Where are you?  I’m coming over there and getting my baby boy right now and—”

“Wait, wait,” Louis says frantically, cutting her off.  He knows that probably wasn’t the best idea, but he just has to grab her attention somehow and that was only way that he could think of.  The woman stops talking, listening intently to what Louis has to say.  He takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  This is it.  This is the moment where he has to say that her seventeen year old son is actually a baby.

“I, uh, can explain.  Just, give me some time, I guess.  It’s a little difficult to describe.”

There’s another pause before she finally agrees.

“Your son, Harry, he signed a contract with this company…?” he starts, hating the way he stated that as a question.  He cringes at his voice.  It’s so shaky and nervous.

“Right,” she says.  “I know that.  It’s called The Babysitting Company, but when I asked Harry about it before he left, he said he didn’t want to talk about it.  He said that’ll he be gone for three months, but he’ll try and call often.  I’m just a little worried, is all.  I tried looking up the company, but I didn’t find much information.”

Louis nods his head.  He can’t even imagine the amount of worry and stress she must be feeling right now.  He would be worried sick if his baby up and left him one day without much of an explanation.

“I completely understand, Mrs. Styles,” he says.  “If it makes you feel any better, he’s completely healthy and, if I do say so myself, happy.”

“Anne,” she corrects lightly.  “You can call me Anne.  I don’t go by Styles anymore.”

Louis coughs awkwardly into his fist.  Of course he would get the name wrong.  Just add this to the list of wrong things he’s done since the beginning of the phone call.

“Anyway, um, well,” he says, not knowing how to go about this.  How does one explain to another that her son acts like a baby now?  “Harry has kind of been…uh brainwashed?  I guess.  And he’s kind of got a mind of a one year old right now.”  He shifts on his feet, feeling the silence between them grow heavier.  “That’s part of his job,” he starts rambling, “and I signed a contract, too.  I’m supposed to act as his father and take care of him while he acts like a baby.  So I have to, you know, feed him and take care of him and play games with him and be his father and—bloody hell, this sounds absolutely ridiculous.  You must think I’ve gone delusional.  I swear, I-I’m not. ”

He stops himself, not wanting to ramble on anymore.  His thoughts are scattered everywhere and he’s not even sure how he managed to get even that bit of information out.  He figures he probably got through the hardest part.

“I don’t really understand,” she says after a few seconds.  “So…Harry is a baby now?”

Louis runs a frustrated hand through his hair, tugging at the tangled knots near the ends.  He doesn’t understand why Valerie couldn’t have informed Anne from the beginning.  It would’ve made this conversation a lot easier.  “Uh, yeah.  He’s, uh, very dependent on me.”

She hums, and Louis instantly feels his hair stick straight up on his arms.  He’s pretty sure he’s shaking, too, but he can’t focus on anything other than how nervous he is at the moment.  He might even faint if she yells at him again.

“So what happens after the three months?” she asks, her voice softening significantly.  Louis can only assume it’s because she recognizes how scared his is.  “Is he stuck like this forever?”

 “No,” he says, matching his tone of voice to hers, “he’ll return back to normal, especially when he sees you.  He’s just in a headspace right now.  He’ll fall out of it as soon as he sees you, most likely.”

He tries not to think about that too long.  He doesn’t want to think about losing Harry.  It leaves a cold sting in his chest, and he isn’t particularly fond of it.

“Right,” she says.  There’s another pause.  Louis isn’t too keen on those pauses.

“If you want to see him, you’re more than welcome to visit us,” he says in one breath.

She thinks it over for a few seconds, making Louis squirm uncomfortably.  He’s not even sure why he asked that.  If he can barely talk to Anne through the phone, he can’t imagine having to hold a conversation with her while her son sits on his lap with a nappy taped around his waist.

“As much as I would love to see my baby,” Anne starts, letting out a loud sigh.  She takes another deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I know that if I go, he’ll be embarrassed for a long time after he falls out of…what was it?  Headspace?”

Louis nods his head, letting out a relieved sigh.  It’s not that he doesn’t want to meet her; it’s just that it would be incredibly awkward.  He’d much rather meet her under different circumstances.

“I understand,” he starts.  “I feel bad that—”

“Daddy!” he hears a whine from down the hall, the name being dragged out dramatically.  Harry pokes his head in, frowning when he sees Louis still on the phone.   He puts his hands on his hips and pouts out his bottom lip.  “You said you were gonna color with me, Daddy!  Why are you still on the phone?”

He falls dramatically to the ground, covering his face with the coloring book.  Louis chuckles fondly, walking over to him and picking him off the ground while the phone stays pressed to his cheek.

“What are you doing on the ground, you silly boy?” he asks, bopping Harry’s nose with his index finger.  Harry giggles, poking Louis back and laughing giddily when Louis sticks his tongue out at him.

“When are you gonna color with me?” he whines.  “I wanna color now.  And you said you’d color with me.”

Louis sits down on the bed, pulling Harry onto his lap and gently pushing stray curls out of his eyes.  “I know, baby.  I promise if I’m not off in five minutes, then we can read two stories before bedtime instead of one.  How does that sound?”

Harry squeals excitedly, jumping out of his arms and bouncing excitedly on his heels.  “Hungry Caterpillar?”

Louis smiles fondly, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his forehead.  “If that’s what you want, love.”

 “That’s what I want.”

Louis pats his bum gently, gesturing for him to leave the room once again.  “Okay, baby.  Give Daddy five more minutes and then I’ll be in there to color with you, yeah?”

Louis chuckles as he watches Harry skip out of the room, singing a song as he leaves.  He sighs lovingly.  He’s not sure what he would do without him.

“I’m glad that you’re taking good care of him,” Anne says, scaring Louis out of his thoughts.  His cheeks instantly flame at that.  He wasn’t expecting her to have heard their entire exchange.  He’s actually a little embarrassed that she even witnessed anything.  The whole dynamic is something he would have preferred to have kept behind closed doors.  But, her voice is soft and even though Louis has never met her before, he can tell that there’s a smile on her face.

“Of course,” he says automatically.  He doesn’t even need to think twice about caring for his baby.  “I love taking care of him.  Always.”

Anne sighs, and Louis distinctly hears a little coo at the end of it.  He’s not sure how he feels about that.  It gives him little butterflies in his stomach, and yet he still feels a little awkward.

“Well, I won’t keep you from your coloring any longer,” she says, biting back a little giggle.  “I guess I’ll see Harry in two weeks.”

Louis nods his head sadly.  He doesn’t have a lot of time left with Harry and it instantly makes him sad, no matter how much he tries to fight it off.

“Bye, Anne.  It was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too, Louis.”

With that, he hangs up the phone and stares at the wall.  He’s not sure how he was able to get through that entire conversation, but he feels oddly proud of himself.  Anne seemed to have warmed up to Louis near the end, and Louis couldn’t be any happier than that.

At least she approves of him—somewhat.

He shrugs, walking towards the toy room with a smile on his face.

“Daddy, come look at my rainbow!” Harry squeals as soon as Louis takes a step into the room.  He runs over to his Louis and tugs on his hand, pulling him over to the side of the room by the chest.  “Isn’t it pretty, Daddy?”

Louis doesn’t say anything at first.  His emotions are at bay as he stares at the picture—on the wall.  Harry had used markers—on his white walls—to draw a rainbow.  Louis’ skin starts to heat up the longer he stares at it.

“Harry, why did you draw on the walls?” he asks slowly.  He continues to stare at the wall, frozen in his place.

“Because you said you like rainbows, Daddy!  I wanted to draw you a rainbow!”

Louis’ anger starts to build up even more.  He remains silent, trying his absolute hardest to remain calm.

“Do you not like it, Daddy?” Harry asks quietly, breaking the silence between them.  Louis instantly turns towards him, noticing the way he lowers his head in shame.  There are tears already starting to form in his eyes and his bottom lip trembles.  “I tried my best to make it pretty.  I’m sorry.  It’s ugly, isn’t it?”

Louis’ heart instantly shatters into a million pieces.  He quickly picks Harry up, propping him on his hip and kissing his forehead.  “No, not at all baby!  I absolutely love it!  It’s gorgeous, just like you!”

Harry giggles shyly, glancing away before meeting Louis’ eyes again.  “Do you want me to draw you another one?”

Louis chuckles, placing Harry in one of the chairs near the table.  He gives Harry the red crayon and kisses his cheek.  “How about you draw me one on paper instead, my love.”

Harry nods his head excitedly, his curls bouncing around on his head as he does so.  Louis stares at the wall with the rainbow on it.  It’s cute—he has to admit it.  It even has a little smiley face drawn in the middle of it.

He knows he should be scolding Harry for what he’s done, but he just can’t bring himself to do it.  What can he say?  He’s a little whipped for his baby.

And if he decides to keep the rainbow there for the next few weeks, no one has to know.  The room needed a bit of color anyway.

Chapter Text

“We need a purple pancake, Daddy,” Harry says, kicking his feet back and forth and listening to the way his heels collide with the cabinet doors beneath him. Louis has told him time and time again that he needs to stop doing that, but Harry won’t listen. He’s currently sitting on the countertop, helping Louis make pancakes for breakfast, using food dye in the batter. They’ve already made a few red ones, a couple green ones, and lots and lots of blue pancakes.

“Baby, how are we going to eat all of these pancakes?” Louis chuckles, placing his hands firmly on Harry’s knees as a way to stop him from kicking back against the cabinets. He stops momentarily, smiling up at Louis with a sparkle in his eye. “If we make a purple one, we’ll have nearly twenty pancakes!”

Harry frowns, looking longingly at the food dye. His bottom lip is jutting out slightly. “But…I just want to see purple, Daddy,” he whispers, looking up at Louis with his bottom lip jutting out. “It’s one of my favorite colors.”

And what can Louis say to that? He can’t tell him no. Heck, if Harry had asked him to go steal some purple food dye from the store, Louis probably would, and that fact alone scares him to no end, especially since today is the last day before he has to say goodbye to Harry.

He decided that morning that he wasn’t going to be sad today. In fact, he promised to himself that he was going to do anything in his power to pretend like tomorrow is just another normal day. So far, it’s going pretty well.

“Okay, okay,” Louis says, already mixing the blue and the red dye together to form purple. Harry squeals happily, kicking his legs back and forth even after Louis gives him a pointed look. “But this is the last color, yeah?”

“Okay, Daddy!” he says, leaning closer so he can watch the colors drip into the batter. His shoulder bumps into Louis’ and he smiles broadly at him, his eyebrows raised slightly to show how excited he is. Louis chuckles, rustling his curls around a bit even after Harry sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes and trying to fix his hair again.

“Hey now,” Louis teases, “don’t get sassy with me, young man.”

He giggles, hearing Louis’ humorous tone underlying his words. He grabs the spoon off the counter and begins mixing the colors together. “Daddy, I’ll be sassy whenever I wanna be sassy.” He sticks his tongue out for good measure, laughing when he sees his Daddy’s stunned expression.

“You want to be sassy, huh?” Louis says, putting his hands on Harry’s sides and sliding them up towards his rib cage. Harry squirms, biting his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing. “Even after Mr. Tickle comes?”

He digs his fingers into Harry’s rib cage, finding his most ticklish spot easily. He’s always loved tickling Harry. His laughter is always shrill and he shrieks and squawks adorably. His head falls back against Louis’ shoulder, his hands pathetically batting at Louis’.

“No!” he screams, laughing so hard that he can’t get any other words out. His body squirms around on the counter, trying to get away from Louis’ fingers, but the older man doesn’t give in. “D-Daddy! S-stop!”

There are tears coming out of his eyes from laughing so hard, and as much as Louis wants to continue his little game, he reluctantly stops and rubs his hands over his baby’s sides. Harry wipes at his eyes, his cheeks bright red from laughing so hard.

He loves that he can get a reaction like that out of Harry. He loves that no matter what mood Harry is in, he can always get him to laugh in the end. No matter how much he denies the fact that he hates being tickled, Louis always knows that he secretly loves it.

And Louis will always love to tickle his baby.

“That wasn’t funny, Daddy,” he scowls at him, furrowing his eyebrows even though his lips are still held in a small smile.

“Really?” Louis asks, taking the batter and pouring it into the pan. “Should I have a talk with Mr. Tickles?”

Harry nods his head, still trying to act mad as he watches the batter bubble on the pan. “Yes. I think Mr. Tickles should get a time out.”

Louis smirks at that, raising his eyebrows at Harry who giggles under his look. It seems like just yesterday Harry was sitting in his first time out. Louis can’t even remember what it was that he had done, but he does remember the fight Harry put up. Nowadays, it isn’t much easier putting Harry in time out, but it’s for an entirely different reason—Louis feels bad putting his baby on the steps.

Of course, when Harry acts up—which is few and far between these days—Louis has to put him in time out. But listening to his little cries and soft sobs were always heartbreaking for Louis. He physically had to wash dishes or vacuum the kitchen, just so he wouldn’t give in. Although he didn’t like punishing Harry, he knew it had to be done.

“Oh yeah? Is that what you think?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in question.

“Yes, Daddy. That’s what I think.”

Louis hums, flipping the pancake onto the other side. “We’ll see about that,” he says.

It’s quiet for a little bit between them, only the sound of the pancake bubbling on the pan. Sometimes they have these little moments of silence. Usually it’s because Harry is either sleeping or he’s preoccupied with something, but right now, he’s fascinated with the purple pancake in front of him. His eyes are so wide that Louis swears that they’re as big as the pancake on the pan. He chuckles under his breath, finding everything about Harry just so utterly cute.

“Do you want to see Daddy do something really cool, babycakes?”

Harry nods his head, watching intently as Louis takes the pan away from the stove. He tosses the pancake into the air, quickly turning around so he can catch it behind his back, but before he can do so, it falls right on the floor, flopping onto the kitchen tile.

Harry laughs loudly, clapping his hands together and smiling brightly at him. “Good job, Daddy!” he exclaims.

Louis frowns at him, bending over to pick up the dirty pancake and tossing it into the trash. He’s not sure if Harry is consciously aware that he made a sarcastic remark or if it was just unintentional. Either way, Louis can’t keep the small smile off his face. Whether it was supposed to be sarcastic or not, it was a cute comment to make.

“Okay, let’s make one more purple pancake, shall we?” he asks, pouring more of the batter into the pan.

“Yes, Daddy,” Harry says excitedly, kicking his feet once again against the cabinets. “Only one more.”

Little did Louis know that he would end up with all the colors of the rainbow and syrup all over his and Harry’s hands. There are about five pancakes for each color and together they only manage to eat four.

They decide to give some to the birds outside.

---

“Look at what I drew, Daddy!” Harry says excitedly, moving his body away from the drawing on the sidewalk.

Currently, their entire driveway is decked out in sidewalk chalk. About a month ago, Louis discovered Harry’s passion for chalk. His baby can spend hours upon hours just drawing mindless doodles all over the cement if he were allowed to do so.

Louis, however, isn’t too fond of the chalk himself. Harry always manages to get it all over his body. It starts with his hands, and then he rubs at his face, and then he wipes it on his pants and then only a few seconds later, he’s covered from head to toe in the chalky dust, which means he has to get an extra thorough bath.

Although it isn’t Louis’ favorite activity, he couldn’t pass it up on Harry’s last day.

“Do you like it?” Harry asks again, his eyes widening in anticipation.

Louis looks fondly at the picture in front of him. It’s a picture of Henry the Giraffe. It’s drawn in light green and there’s a smile that takes up most of his face.

“Of course, baby!” Louis says, hugging Harry close to his chest. “That’s a beautiful picture of Henry. I’m sure he’s going to love it!”

Harry beams, snuggling in closer to Louis’ chest. He hums against the fabric, pressing his nose to his t-shirt. Louis hugs him close, wanting to spend every second pressed up to him like this. It’s the one thing that he absolute loves about Harry. He’s a complete and utter snuggle bug, always looking for some kind of warmth and comfort.

“D’ya think I can show Henry the picture later?” he asks, lifting his head up to meet Louis’ eyes.

Louis nods his head, wiping away some of the chalk on his baby’s forehead. He doesn’t understand how he gets so messy so easily. They’ve only been out here for several minutes, yet Harry already has streaks of chalk everywhere. “Of course, love. We’ll show him later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, pulling away to continue drawing. He grabs some red chalk from the box and curls his body over the space he’s going to use. He looks back cautiously at Louis, frowning at him when he won’t look away. “You can’t look at what I’m drawing, okay Daddy?”

Louis throws his hands up in surrender, turning around in the process as to show Harry that he’s not looking. His hands are all chalky and full of pastel colors and so are his pants, but he wouldn’t want to have it any other way. It’s a constant reminder for him that he’s spending time with his boy and if he could, he would keep it on his body forever.
He doesn’t want to say goodbye to Harry tomorrow. He wants to continue playing chalk with him forever and ever. He wants to read him a bedtime story each night before they turn out the lights. He wants to hold Harry in his arms and press kisses to his hair. Every little thing they do together, Louis is going to miss.

It seems weird to him. Thinking back to the beginning of the three months, Louis wanted absolutely nothing to do with this damn company. But now? Now, he can’t believe that he’s actually willing to bathe a boy only two years younger than him. He can’t believe how much he loves building Lego towers with his baby.

He reminds himself to thank Valerie for the wonderful opportunity. And also his mum—for signing him up in the first place. If it weren’t for them, he would have never met this wonderful boy. He’s grateful for this whole experience and even though he knows tomorrow is going to be heart wrenching and painful, he would do everything all over again if it means he could spend another three months with Harry.

“I need your help, Daddy,” Harry says, interrupting his thoughts. Louis turns around, seeing his baby leaning forward over his newest creation, still hiding it away from Louis. His bum is completely covered in dust from the chalk and his face has smudges of pinks and greens across his cheeks and nose. It’s adorable. He looks so sweet and innocent and all Louis can think about is how much he wants to see those cute chalk markings on his face again the same time tomorrow and the next day after.

“What is it, love?” he asks, taking a seat beside Harry and looking past his shoulder to see what he’s drawn. In his handwriting, pink letters with little hearts surrounding it spell out ‘I love you.’

“I need help writing the word ‘daddy,’” he says, looking up shyly at Louis. There’s a small smile playing on his lips. It’s bashful and quiet and Louis kind of wants to stare at it all day. There’s something about it that’s just so innocent, yet so mischievous. “Can you help me?”

Louis scoots closer to his baby, knowing for a fact that Harry is fully capable of writing the word himself, but not knowing exactly why he insists that Louis help him.

“Of course, sweetie,” he says, watching as Harry crouches closer to the sidewalk. His shins are on the cement, his elbows holding him up. “It starts with a D.”

Harry shoots up, shaking his head with a furrow in his brow. “No,” he says stubbornly. “I want you to help me.” Louis looks at him quizzically, not truly understanding what he wants until Harry lets out a dramatic sigh and grabs Louis’ hand so he can wrap it around his own. “I want you to help me write,” he says, leaning forward again and keeping Louis’ hand firmly placed on his own.

Louis nearly topples over Harry when he goes to lean forward, but he catches himself at the last second and then relaxes his body. His shoulder is brushing the younger boys’ while his right arm circles around his baby’s back so he can keep his hand gripped firmly around Harry’s. He can’t help but notice the way his hands seem so small in comparison to his, and although he doesn’t quite understand it, he realizes that something about this position just feels so right.

“You want me to guide your hand?” he asks, keeping his voice airy and light. He can see his breath hitting the side of Harry’s head, watching the way his hair moves slightly with each puff.

“Mhm,” he says, smiling at the sidewalk chalk in front of him.

Louis gently moves Harry’s hand, forming the letter D and then the A and the rest of the letters that come. He does it slowly, enjoying the warmth between his hand and Harry’s. He doesn’t want the moment to end.

Over the past three months, Louis has learned how much he likes being snuggled up close to Harry. He loves everything about it—how Harry will lean his head against his chest, how their fingers will slip past each others to hold hands, how he’s always so warm—but in this moment, everything’s different. He doesn’t know what it is, but there’s something so special about holding Harry’s hand right now. It tingles and makes his insides bubbly, and he has a feeling it’s only because today is the last day that he’ll ever be able to do this. Today’s the last day that he can cuddle his baby close.

The thought only makes Louis slower in his movements. He slowly guides Harry’s hand to form the last letter, adding a small smiley face at the end for a sad excuse to keep touching him longer. When they finish the word together, Harry looks up at Louis through his eyelashes. He smiles. It’s beautiful—the kind that’s small with a lot of meaning behind it and the kind that makes his eyes shine a light emerald color.

Louis is completely mesmerized.

He stares at Harry, smiling the same soft smile and enjoying the way Harry’s cheeks start to tint with a light pink color. He hasn’t seen his baby blush like that in a long time. It’s a shy one—not out of embarrassment, but more so out of bashfulness. He’s hesitantly moving towards Louis, leaning closer towards him before retracting a little with eyes that briefly flick away from Louis’.

Louis doesn’t know what’s on Harry’s mind at the moment, but he does know for sure that his own heart is racing twice as fast as it normally does and it’s unusually quiet between them.

Harry blinks once, and then twice before quickly pressing a small kiss to Louis’ cheek, pulling away fast with flushed skin and a nervous smile. He maintains shy eye contact with him, biting his lip while his cheeks continue to grow redder and redder. Louis smiles fondly at Harry, feeling his heart warm and soar from just the simple action.

It wasn’t the same kiss as the others, Louis decides. No, there was definitely something different in that one. He’s not sure what it was, but he knows for a fact that it was different from all the other little kisses Harry has given him on the cheek.

“Thank you, baby,” he finally whispers, breaking the peaceful silence between them.

Harry quickly looks back to his drawing, adding more hearts and flowers around the nice message, his cheeks still bright in color.

“Daddy, draw some hearts with me!”

And just like that, the small moment between them has vanished.

---

That night, Louis bathes Harry in the bathtub with extra bubbles, extra toys, and extra giggles. They spend time together, playing with toy boats and sharks, and then follow bath time up with the massage, just like any other night. This time, however, Louis does it extra slowly, wanting to enjoy every last second with his precious baby for one more night.

He’s tried all day to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach, and with the night coming, he’s starting to realize how tomorrow is quickly approaching. He’s not ready to give Harry back. He knows it’s very selfish for him to even think that, especially with Harry’s family anxiously waiting for his return, but Louis can’t help himself. He wants to spend more time with his baby boy. He wants to wake up every morning, knowing that Harry won’t be going anywhere.

Unfortunately for Louis, it’s only wishful thinking.

He rubs his hands down Harry’s bare stomach, listening to the way Harry giggles because it tickles. He loves the way his baby squirms on his back, trying to get away from Louis’ fingers, and even though Louis’ trying his very best not to tickle him, sometimes he can’t help himself.

“Okay, baby,” he says, grabbing his pajamas from behind him. He picks up the shirt, gingerly sliding it over Harry’s head and then doing the same with his pajama bottoms. “It’s time for bed.”

He picks Harry up on his hip, snuggling him close to his chest and smelling the faint strawberry scent that clings to his hair. He always smells so good, but today his scent is extra strong and Louis’ not sure if he loves it or hates it.

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight, Daddy?” Harry asks.

He asks the same question every single night and Louis always has the same answer. He would’ve thought that by now, Harry would have stopped asking, but here he is, asking the same question yet again. Only this time, Louis can’t find it in himself to say no.

Louis nods his head, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. “Only for tonight,” he barely whispers, knowing that there was truth behind his words. He has a bit of a lump in his throat that refuses to go away—not even after Harry squeals with excitement.

They lie down, their foreheads pressed together. Harry can’t stop smiling, and Louis sends a silent ‘thank you’ to everyone that has helped him get to where he is today. He realizes it’s kind of stupid because ultimately, he has to give Harry back tomorrow. But for now, he sends his gratitude to whomever will listen.

“You have a big bed, Daddy,” Harry whispers loudly. It’s one of Louis’ favorite things that he’s learned about Harry. He’s an awful whisperer. He’s not sure if it’s because of his headspace or if he’s really just awful at it in real life. Either way, it’s incredibly endearing and Louis is a complete sucker for it.

“It’s a lot different from your crib, isn’t it?” Louis says softly, brushing the curls from out of Harry’s eyes. His eyelids flutter briefly, and Louis kind of wants to press a quick kiss to them.

“Yeah. Lot comfier too,” Harry mumbles in between some yawns. His eyelids close again in a lazy blink. His fist haphazardly rubs at his eyes, making him look like a small kitten.

“Go to sleep, baby,” Louis whispers, chuckling fondly at him while wrapping his arm around Harry’s torso. “We have a big day tomorrow,” he adds, pressing a long and lingering kiss on Harry’s forehead. If he could, he would keep his lips pressed to his skin all night long, and only part ways when he has to say goodbye.

“Goodnight Daddy,” he mumbles against the fabric of Louis’ t-shirt. There’s a small quirk on Harry’s lips and he presses himself infinitely closer to Louis’ chest, snuggling in as close as he possibly can. “I love you,” he whispers.

Louis holds him closer to his chest, wanting this moment to last forever.

It’s the first time Harry has ever explicitly said that he loves Louis using his voice.

Chapter Text

The sunlight is shining in through the blinds the next morning and if Louis were physically capable of punching the light, he would.  Today is the day that he and Harry return to their normal lives, and Louis is dreading every second of it.  He hates how the sun is shining on a day that’s so sad.  He’d rather it be rainy and gross outside.  At least then it would resemble his emotions.

Harry is still fast asleep beside him.  His face is relaxed and serene, completely unaware as to what’s going to happen in a few hours.   Their legs are entangled with each other’s underneath the sheets, and Louis likes to gently brush his toes against the back of Harry’s legs, watching fondly as his nose wrinkles in his sleep.

He wishes he would’ve allowed Harry to sleep with him more frequently.  He likes this a lot—probably more than he’s supposed to—and now that he knows how it feels to wake up beside Harry, he doesn’t know how he’s going to wake up every other morning after, let alone what he’s going to do every single day.

Louis can’t even remember what he did on a regular basis before meeting Harry.  He can’t imagine a morning without waking Harry up for the day.  He used to think it was a pain in the neck trying to wake him—he’s a heavy sleeper and sometimes he refuses to open his eyes after a particularly good sleep—but now Louis would do anything to keep him in his crib so that he can wake him up every morning at nine.  He loves the way he stretches out his arms and legs, letting out a little groans as he does so.  He loves the way he rubs at his eyes adorably or the way he buries his face into Louis’ neck when he’s picked up.

And what is Louis supposed to do during the day?  He no longer has to play with chalk in the front yard.  He doesn’t have to cook breakfast, lunch or dinner.  He doesn’t have to watch any more baby shows.  He figures he probably will have to do some of these things in a few months when his mum finally gives birth, but it won’t ever be the same without Harry.

Nothing will ever come close to Harry.  He’s one of the greatest things that has ever happened to Louis.  And he’s going to be gone within a matter of hours.

Now there’s a lump in Louis’ throat, and no matter how hard he tries to swallow it down, it only continues to grow larger and larger the more time he spends with Harry wrapped up in his arms.  The strawberry shampoo scent still lingers on his baby’s hair, and he knows for a fact that it’s going to linger on the pillow case until tonight.

At least Louis can use that when he knows he’ll be missing his baby later.

The first tear slips from his eye, and as much as he wants to stay in the bed with Harry, he knows he has to excuse himself before the younger boy starts to wake up.  He doesn’t want him to see him cry.

He slips into the bathroom, quietly shutting the door behind him before stripping out of his clothes and climbing into the shower.  He hopes that it’ll get rid of his big bags and bloodshot eyes.

Louis’ decided against telling his baby about today.  He doesn’t even know if he would be physically capable of explaining it.  He can barely even think about it without crying.  He can’t imagine trying to verbally say it aloud.

It’s probably better this way anyway.  Harry won’t suspect a thing, and by the time he does figure out that something’s up, it’ll be too late.  He’ll fall out of headspace and won’t want anything to do with Louis.

He briefly wonders if that’s the way he’s going to act towards Harry as well.  Will they both feel disgust towards each other?  Will they both forget what happened over the course of these three months?  Will they even remember who the other person is?

Although it seems unlikely, Louis hopes that he’ll remember every single detail about Harry.  He also hopes that he’ll still feel the same way towards the boy after reverting back to his old life.

He can’t imagine his new life without Harry in it, but maybe that’s just the medication talking.

---

“Where are we going, Daddy?” Harry asks excitedly, kicking his legs up and down while he gazes up at the older boy with a sparkle in his eye.

Louis fiddles with the buckles across Harry’s chest.  He’s buckled his baby into his car seat plenty of times before, but right now his fingers are extra fidgety and his hands are extra shaky.  Harry giggles at him, putting his own hands on top of Louis’ as a way to calm him down.  The older boy doesn’t understand how much Harry affects him.  Almost instantly, his muscles relax and his racing heart starts to slow down.

He shares a small smile with Harry, knowing for a fact that it looks so fake, but also knowing that Harry won’t notice.  He clicks the two straps together in front of his chest and runs his fingers carefully through his baby’s curls, watching the way they bounce back into place.  He’s going to miss doing that.

 “We’re going to see Valerie, sweetie,” he says.  His voice sounds shaky, and he nearly chokes on his tears, but somehow, Harry doesn’t seem to notice.   He continues to beam up at Louis, his fingers curling loosely around the straps on his chest.

“Are we going to have a tea party again?  I liked doing that.”

Louis smiles sadly at him, resting his forehead against the top of the car.  He almost wishes Harry wouldn’t talk right now because the more he talks, the more emotional he gets.  He can already feel the tears pool in his eyes once again.  They’ve been doing that all morning and Louis swears that he’s cried an ocean and a half.  It feels like there’s a knife digging into his chest and it’s barely allowing for any air.

“No baby,” he says, his voice cracking over those two, simple words.  He leaves it at that, knowing that if he tries to give his baby any more information, he’ll just completely break down, and that’s the last thing he wants to do in front of Harry.

He gently slides the door closed, leaning his back against the window so he can discretely rub at his eyes.  His head is hurting him, but even that doesn’t compare to the hole he feels in his chest.

He slides into the driver’s side, turning the key and listening to the engine start up. It pulls him out of his trance, reminding him to look at Harry through the rearview mirror so that he can give him a big smile.  Harry smiles back, just like usual.

 “Okay then,” he sighs, looking back at the house once more.  It still looks exactly the same as it did when he first arrived, but now every inch of the house has memories.  Like the window on the second floor when Harry threw a tantrum and accidentally broke the window after he chucked a block at it.  Or the windowsill where Harry insisted there needs to be tulips on display, even though they always die within the first day they’re picked from the garden.

His eyes wander over the entirety of the house, feeling his heart clench painfully as the memories start to build.  Their sidewalk chalk is glistening under the sun and Louis stares at the ‘I love you, Daddy’ message for a little longer than necessary.

He sighs, putting the car into reverse.  “Let’s go see Valerie!” he says with as much enthusiasm as he can muster.  It’s the hardest thing he has ever had to do.

---

“May I have your name, please?”

Louis shifts Harry on his hip, leaning down to speak to the woman behind the desk.  She gives him a sympathetic look upon seeing his distressed expression.  Louis assumes because she’s seen it all the time.  This isn’t exactly a happy place to be.  It feels as though he’s giving half of his life away.

“Louis Tomlinson.”

She types his name on the keyboard, and Louis swears she’s talking to him about something important, but he can’t focus on anything other than the boy in his arms.  Harry’s running his fingers through Louis’ hair, parting it in a way that feels awkward on his head.

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” he whispers, pressing his hands against Louis’ cheeks.  It’s one of his quirks, Louis’ discovered.  Whenever he wants to tell Louis something important, he always squeezes his cheeks together with his hands.  “I’m going to make your hair even prettier than Cinderella’s,” he beams.

Louis doesn’t say anything in return.  He’s not sure if he could with the big lump in his throat.  It’s becoming more and more difficult to ignore.  He just hopes that he can keep it at bay until he and Harry separate.

 “Okay,” the secretary says, gesturing to the seats behind them.  “Take a seat over there and Valerie will be out in a few.”

Louis nods, thanking her silently before taking a seat next to the door.  He fixes Harry on his lap, smiling sadly at him and pressing a long and lingering kiss to his forehead.

“Is this Valerie’s house, Daddy?”  He asks Louis with wide eyes.  They’re bright and alert, and they even have a little glint in the iris.  It seems wrong.

“No, baby,” he whispers, bouncing Harry on his lap.  He wants to hear Harry giggle one last time.  They used to do this a lot when they sat in the rocking chair together.  Louis would bounce his leg up and down and Harry would pretend it was a horse.  It was simple things like those that Louis is going to miss the most.  “This is where Valerie works,” he adds.

Harry’s nose crinkles, making a funny face with his lips.  His eyebrows are pulled together and it almost looks like he ate something bad that he didn’t like—like that one time Louis had fed him some Brussels sprouts at dinner.  He took only one bite and then promptly scrunched up his entire face and refused to eat anymore of it.  Louis smiles fondly at the memory.

“I don’t like it here,” he whispers, bringing Louis out of his thoughts.  His eyes flirt around the room, taking in his surroundings before they return to Louis’.  He snuggles into his chest and Louis rests his chin on his head.  He wishes they could stay like this forever.

“I don’t either, baby,” Louis says so quietly, he’s not even sure if Harry had heard him.  He takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  His words are starting to become increasingly difficult to produce and if he doesn’t get his emotions under control soon, he’s going to absolutely lose it.

“Can we go home now, Daddy?” Harry mumbles, burying further into Louis’ chest.  “I like it better there and we can have another tea party with Valerie.”

Louis’ heart is breaking.  All he wants is to do is go home with Harry.  He wants to scoop him up, take him home, and stay there forever and ever.  He wants to go up to the play room and pretend to sip tea out of a little cup.  He wants to put a tiara on Harry’s head and watch his cheeks tinge pink when he tells him he’s the prettiest boy he’s ever seen.  He wants to hear him talk to all his stuffed animals and hear him giggle when Louis can’t remember all their names.  He wants to do everything with Harry, but he can’t do anything about it.

 “No, sweetie,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to his head.  His voice breaks over the words, and Harry sits up immediately upon hearing it.

“Daddy, why are you crying?”

Louis shakes his head, wiping at his eyes.  He didn’t even realize there were tears running down his cheeks.

“Harry,” he whispers, gently rubbing his thumb over his arm.  He waits until his green eyes focus on his.  His eyes are wide and honest.  “I love you a whole lot, you know that, yeah?”

Harry nods his head, snuggling in closer to Louis’ chest and pressing a kiss to his cheek.  “I love you too, Daddy.”  Louis nods his head, pressing his lips together to stop his tears from falling.  “Daddy, what’s wrong?”

This is exactly the thing that Louis wanted to avoid.  He didn’t want to break down in front of him.  He didn’t want Harry to find out that there was anything wrong to begin with.  Yet, here he is, crying silently in front of his baby while he gently wipes away the tears away with his fingers.

“You remember your mum and Gemma, don’t you, baby?”

Harry scrunches his eyebrows before he nods his head.  He smiles brightly upon hearing their names.  It tugs on Louis’ heart strings.

“You’re going to live with them again.”

Harry’s smile brightens, his big dimples taking up a big portion of his face.  “And you too, Daddy?”

Louis looks up at the ceiling, sniffling loudly and trying to get himself under control.  There’s a sharp pain in his chest and it feels like there’s an arrow stuck in his heart.  “No, baby.  It’s just you, your mum, and Gemma.”

Harry’s eyes widen.  He stops moving completely on Louis’ lap and he swears he stops breathing.  “But…what about you?” he asks.  His voice is extremely quiet, suddenly becoming very serious.  “I don’t want you to leave, Daddy.”

Louis swallows painfully, watching the way Harry’s bottom lip starts to quiver and the way his eyes start to water.  “I don’t either, sweetie,” he says truthfully.  More tears start to collect in his eyes.

“So come with me!” he cries, gripping Louis’ forearm painfully.  His fingernails dig into Louis’ skin, but even that doesn’t compare to the pain Louis feels in his heart.

He shakes his head, more tears spilling down his cheeks.  He can’t control them anymore.  It’s like the dam has been broken and all the water is flowing out.  “I can’t, pumpkin,” he whispers.

He swallows the painful lump in his throat, holding Harry closer to his chest.  The younger boy cuddles closer, saying ‘no,’ again and again against Louis’ t-shirt, as if that would change Louis’ mind.  It’s only making it more difficult, and for a second, Louis wishes that Harry hated him just so the final goodbye wouldn’t be so hard.

“They’re going to give you some medicine, baby, and if you still want me around after that, then I’ll come back, yeah?” he says wetly, his voice wobbling over every single word.  He doesn’t even recognize his own voice.  It sounds foreign to his ears and it makes his skin prickle.

Harry sobs harder against his chest, clutching onto him like his life depended on it, and Louis holds him that much tighter.  Both their bodies are heaving on broken cries.

This was definitely not the way he had wanted to say goodbye.  He wanted it to be somewhat peaceful.

“Louis?”  He picks his head up, seeing Valerie standing near the door in her white lab coat with a clipboard in her hands.  Her eyebrows are knit together and her eyes are pulled downward as she takes in the two boys before her.  “We’re ready for you.”

He stands up slowly, fixing Harry on his hip who continues to cry into his shoulder.  He’s squeezing Louis so hard that Louis can’t tell if it’s difficult to breathe because of his tears or if it’s because his baby’s grip is so tight around his torso.

 “Okay,” Valerie says, stopping in front of one room.  She unlocks the door and opens it slightly to reveal a big TV screen on one wall and a counter with some orange bottles on the other.  “Here’s Harry’s room.”

Upon hearing his name, Harry’s head shoots up.  His bloodshot eyes flirt from the room, to Valerie’s face, and finally landing on Louis’.  He shakes his head, clutching onto Louis even after Valerie takes him out of his arms.

“No!” he screams, frantically flailing his arms and legs in Valerie’s hold.  His cries intensify and they’re so loud that they bounce and echo around the building.  He reaches for Louis, sobbing and screeching for his help.  “Daddy!” he screams, “don’t leave me!”

Louis watches.  His heart is in his throat and all he can do is stand there and watch as two men wrestle Harry into the room.  They pick him up and ignore his shrill screaming and loud sobs.  Louis doesn’t even realize that he’s crying too until Valerie hands him a tissue.

“It’s okay,” she assures him.  “You got through the hardest part.”

Louis isn’t sure if that makes him feel any better.

He follows Valerie blindly down the hall, trying desperately to ignore his baby’s pleas.  It’s the only thing he can focus on.  They’re so loud and Louis feels guilty.  He should be in there right now trying to calm him down.  He should be the one to hold him in his arms and stroke his hair while he settles down.  He shouldn’t be walking away.

He just feels so frozen.  His entire brain has shut down and he feels like someone had just shocked him.  It’s as if he’s detached from his body and all his thoughts are so far away.  Somewhere distantly, he still hears Harry’s screams, but otherwise, everything is numb.

“And here’s your room,” she says, opening another door.  Louis stares blankly inside, seeing that it’s identical to Harry’s.  There’s a large TV screen that takes up most of one wall and the same counter that holds all the medications.  He stands there frozen, not taking one step into the room.  “Take a seat,” she says.  “I’ll be right back.”

Louis walks into the room and sinks into the chair.  He stares at the TV, just listening to the way Harry’s still crying from down the hall. He wants to cover his ears and close his eyes, forcing himself to ignore the shrill screams, yet his muscles are stoic and locked into place.  He doesn’t think he could move them even if he tried.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he knows that it’ll all end shortly, and unfortunately for him, it comes a lot sooner than he expected.  Suddenly, it’s all very quiet again, and Louis doesn’t know how to feel about that.  He doesn’t know if the newfound silence makes him happy because his heart no longer has to physically rip in half every time Harry cries ‘daddy,’ or if it makes him sad because he knows that by now he’s fallen completely out of headspace and he probably doesn’t even understand why he was crying in the first place.

The door to his left opens, but Louis doesn’t lift his eyes from the TV in front of him.  He can distantly register that there are a few tears on his nose, but other than that and his broken heart, he can’t feel anything else.

“Daddy?” he hears.

Before he can lift his head up, there’s a body knocking into his, already climbing into his lap and stuffing his face into his chest.

Louis is stunned.  He doesn’t even know how to react, other than instinctively cuddling Harry in his arms and smoothing down his hair.  He presses small kisses to his head, his tears flowing more now than ever.

He looks around the room, looking for some kind of explanation.  How is it possible that Harry still likes him even after reverting back to his original self?

His eyes stop on Valerie, standing in the corner of the room.  She’s still holding her clipboard, and there’s a frown on her face.  “We couldn’t calm him down,” she says from the doorway.  She takes a step into the room and gives a sympathetic nod.  “So we decided to do the procedure in here with you where he can sit on your lap.”

Louis barely nods his head, his heart once again ripping in half.  This is all temporary.  Harry’s still in his headspace and soon he’ll be gone.  Louis almost feels like he’s been slapped in the face.

Valerie turns on the small screen in Harry’s hands, positioning him on Louis’ lap even after he groans and winces.  The screen lights up and an advertisement starts to play.

“I advice you not to watch,” she says to Louis over her shoulder.  She’s grabbing some liquid medicine off the counter and offers it to Harry.  He drinks it without hesitation and then hands it back to her.

Louis presses little kisses to Harry’s head, crying no matter how hard he tries not to.  He just wants to keep Harry on his lap for the rest of his life.  He doesn’t want to split from him.  He doesn’t want to give him up.  He wants to keep him in his life for the rest of his time.

 All too soon, the video ends and before Louis even realizes it, Harry is starting to squirm on his lap.  His eyes hesitantly lift to meet his, and then he jumps out of his lap, his cheeks blushing furiously.

He stands awkwardly in front of Louis, wringing his hands in front of him with his toes pointed inward.  Louis may be crying a lot, and his vision may not be perfect at the moment, but he knows, without even having perfect vision, that Harry has fallen out of headspace.

“Harry?” Valerie says from the doorway.

His head snaps up, seeing his old clothes in her arms.  He glances down at his clothes, then at Louis, raising his eyebrows as his cheeks start to heat up once again.

Louis wants to say something—anything—just to see if he’s still the same little boy that he took care of for three months.  He wants to know if he still feels the same—even just the tiniest bit.  He wants to know if he even remembers him.

But before he can even get a word out, Harry’s out the door, graciously taking the clothes from Valerie’s hands without so much as a little goodbye.

The door slams shut behind him, and then it’s quiet.  Louis stares at the place Harry stood only a few minutes ago, sitting in silence before he starts crying again.

 “Well…” he says pathetically, looking up at the big screen.  His tears are spilling over his eyes once again but this time he doesn’t have to wipe them away.  There’s no one around that he’s trying to hide them from anymore.  “Let’s get this over with.”

Chapter Text

Harry sits on his bed, staring out the window.  He’s been doing that for the past half an hour, but it’s nothing new.  Ever since arriving home, he’s spent quite a significant time up in his room, gazing off into nothing.  His thoughts are scattered, yet empty.

He can’t seem to place what’s wrong with him.  When he left the office, Valerie gave him a pamphlet with coping strategies.  Apparently, it’s quite common for Littles to feel detached from the world, but after a few days it starts to vanish and they return to their normal lives.

Harry, however, bounced quickly back to his old life.  He jokes around with his mum and his sister.  He gets up easily in the morning and falls asleep easily at night.  He even smiles and laughs just as much as he did before he left.  He feels perfectly fine for the most part, but even still, he can’t deny that there’s still something missing in his life.  He just can’t seem to place what it is.

Maybe it’s the fact that his family had moved during his leave.  With the money he earned from The Babysitting Company, his mum and sister moved to a new apartment complex.  It’s really nice, especially compared to the old dump they lived in three months prior.  They took it upon themselves to move all of Harry’s stuff and they even replaced some of his old and tattered clothing.  It’s a little strange for Harry to see.

It could also be the fact that living his normal life is a little strange.  He has to constantly remind himself that he can actually use the toilet again.  After being so dependent on nappies for three months, it’s like he’s toilet training himself all over.  So far, he has yet to have an accident, and he’s hoping to keep it that way.  He can’t even imagine the absolute humiliation that he would feel if he had to explain to his mum why his trousers were wet.

He shivers at the thought.  She hasn’t really pried for information, but he knows all of that is going to change in a manner of five minutes.  She politely asked him at dinner if they could “chat” later, and Harry instantly knew what that meant.  She wants him to talk about his feelings and his emotions and what happened over the past three months.

Harry doesn’t even know how he feels about that.

On one hand, he’s happy that she still doesn’t know all the details.  He doesn’t particularly want to talk about what happened.  He hasn’t really allowed himself to think about the past three months.  He completely remembers everything—that’s not the problem.  In fact, he remembers every, little second of each day.  He remembers being dressed for the day.  He remembers being wiped down after messing himself.  He remembers being bathed and playing with the chalk and reading books before bedtime.  He remembers every, little detail.  But there’s one thing that he absolutely refuses to think about, and he knows that if his mum were to ask him about his stay with the company, this thing would surely be brought up, and he doesn’t want to open that batch of memories quite yet.

The door opens behind him, and he doesn’t even need to turn around to know who it is.  She comes and sits on the bed beside him, gently laying her hand on his thigh to grab his attention.  He’s too embarrassed and nervous to even meet her eyes.

“I think it’s best if we talk about it, love,” she says, jumping straight to the chase.

Harry squirms on his bed, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.  He’s been trying to think of the right way to explain what happened while he was away, yet even with a week of preparation, he still has nothing.  He wishes Valerie could have told his mum.  That would have made things a whole lot easier.

 “Well,” he starts, feeling his cheeks burning already.  He doesn’t even know where to begin.  Everything seems so messed up when he says it out loud.  “I signed a contract that stated that I have to…uh—“ he breaks off midsentence, slipping his hand from his mum’s and placing it on his lap.  He keeps his eyes on his legs, feeling his entire body blush as he thinks about what he’s going to say.  “I uh, had to act like a baby,” he mumbles, suddenly feeling super self conscious and ashamed of himself.

He raises his eyes quickly to gauge his mum’s expressions.  She doesn’t even seem surprised and something tells Harry that she already knew that piece of information.

“So yeah,” he adds on very quietly, “I lived in a house and I played with toys and wore nappies and did normal baby stuff.”

He wrings his hands together, wanting to sink into the floor and disappear.   He feels like he should give her more details, but openly talking about wetting yourself as a seventeen year old is more than a little embarrassing.

“And you were with another boy,” his mum says, pulling Harry out of his self pity.  “Louis, correct?” she asks.

Harry’s heart skips a beat.  It’s the one thing he was trying to ignore.  He purposely pushed him out of his thoughts because he didn’t want to remember him.  He’s desperately trying to dig up reasons why he should hate him, but he comes up short every time, and it’s making him angry that he can’t hate the boy.

“Yeah,” he says slowly.  His cheeks are burning crimson.  “Louis.”

The name feels weird on his tongue, like it should be Daddy instead.  He hadn’t called Louis by his name in so long that it doesn’t even feel right.  Then again, there are a lot of things that should be wrong, but feel so right.  Like the way he kind of misses the way Louis would brush his hair out of his eyes.  Or the way he would be extra gentle with him when he started to cry.  Or the way he would change his nappy and clothes every morning and night.  Everything is so wrong, but Harry can’t figure out the reason why he likes it so much.

“I talked to him quite frequently,” Anne says, pulling Harry out of his trance.

He stares at her, waiting for her to go on.  He’s surprised, to say the least.  He doesn’t understand when she could have possibly talked to him during those three months.   He thought he remembered every, single memory, but now he’s wondering if he’s missing a few parts.  Had his mum visited them at the house?

 “He called me almost every week,” she says softly, smiling a little at her son.  She places her hand back in Harry’s, giving it an extra little squeeze.  “And I heard you in the background almost every time.”

Harry bites his lip, averting his eyes.  He almost feels like crying because he’s beyond humiliated.  His mind thinks back over the last few months, trying to find a moment when he remembered Louis holding a phone up to his ear.  There were a few times, but usually Louis would shoo him away and tell him to go draw or play quietly by himself, which usually lead to Harry having an absolute fit.

His eyes widen when he realizes that his mum probably heard him throw a tantrum.  He groans, burying his head in his hands and rubbing at his eyes.  He’s embarrassed beyond belief and now all he wants to do is hide underneath his duvet.

 “It sounded like you quite liked him,” she says softly, raising her eyebrows knowingly.  “I know you were in headspace, but…I don’t know.  I think there might be something else there.”

If he thought his skin was on fire before, then it must be hotter than the depths of hell right now.  He gulps, looking away again.  There’s a small army of butterflies in his stomach and he knows what it’s all about.  Just the sound of his name is slowly starting to bring a smile back on his face no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it.

He shifts on his bed, biting his lip with a small shrug of his shoulder.  He knows for a fact that he’s blushing profusely, but this time, it’s for an entirely different reason.  He’s not embarrassed about what he was caught doing—he’s embarrassed because his mum knows that he likes Louis.

“I don’t know,” he says noncommittally.

She hums, lightly tracing patterns with her thumb on the back of his hand.  It reminds him of the way Louis would do the same thing each night while he read Harry his nighttime story.  It was always so calming and sweet.

“Do you miss him?” she asks quietly.

Harry nods his head before he even realizes what he’s doing.  God, does he miss him.  He misses the way Louis would sit so close to him during movies.  He misses the way he would pull Harry up on his lap when he was tired, or the way he would laugh whenever Harry did something silly.  He misses the way he would put little smiley faces on almost every breakfast and dinner.  And he most certainly misses the way he woke up in his arms the last day together.

It felt so nice lying there, tucked into his arms and pressed up against his chest.  He could feel the soft puffs of his breath against his skin and the soft tickles of his toes against his legs.  When he was lying beside Louis, he felt at ease and relaxed, like he was meant to be there in his arms.  They fit together so perfectly and now Harry has only his pillows to cuddle with.

 He has been so adamant of not thinking about Louis that he hadn’t even realized how much he missed him.

“Yeah,” he whispers, looking at his mum for the first time in a long while.  “I do.”

She nods her head, smiling that same soft smile.  “You should go see him.”

Harry nods his head, smiling just a fraction of an inch.  “Yeah.”

---

Harry doesn’t know what he’s thinking when he’s on his way over to the old house where he spent the past three months with Louis.  He was going to call him on his mum’s cell phone, but then chickened out at the last second.  His mum was encouraging him to dial his number, but no matter how many times she had reassured him that Louis would be happy to hear from him, he just couldn’t get enough courage to press his number.

And now here he is, standing in front of the house, looking like an absolute idiot because he doesn’t know what to do now that he’s here.  He looks at the faded chalk on the sidewalk.  Most of it has washed away, but he can still see some of the bright colors and little hearts that decorate the majority of the pavement.  He can clearly see where he had drawn and where Louis had drawn.  While his drawings were mostly consisted of big shapes and lots of hearts, Louis’ were neatly drawn in little spaces.  He didn’t like to lean over on his own artwork like Harry did, probably because he didn’t want to get chalk on his skin and clothes.

Harry smiles fondly, remembering how he would secretly put little marks on Louis’ skin when he wasn’t paying attention.  He always thought he was really sneaky, but looking back now, he wonders if Louis might have noticed.

“Pretty sick drawings, huh?”

Harry freezes at the voice.  His shoulders pull up and his eyes bulge out.  He recognizes that voice—could probably recognize it one hundred years from now.  He slowly turns around, his cheeks burning when his eyes meet the familiar blue ones.  They’re sparkling and there’s a kind smile on his face that makes Harry want to melt into a giant puddle at his feet.

“Hi,” he says, brushing a piece of hair behind his ear.

Louis walks closer, standing right beside him and looking at the drawings on the pavement with Harry.  They don’t say anything for a few seconds, probably because neither boy knows what to say.  It’s awkward for both of them.

Harry’s somewhere in between wanting to stare at Louis for the rest of eternity and wanting to fade away like the chalk on the ground.  He doesn’t even know how Louis’ going to act.  From the beginning, the older boy was always against the whole age play idea.  What if he acts like that again now that he’s fallen out of his own headspace?

Harry’s eyes widen.  He hadn’t even thought of that before.  His heart would shatter into a million pieces if Louis still thought that way.  He slowly and hesitantly starts to back up from Louis, taking one last and lingering look at him.  He’s looking fondly at the drawings on the pavement.  His hair is swooped to the side, just like normal, and his skin looks so clear and bright.  He looks better than before, if that’s even possible.

It’s probably because he doesn’t have to deal with Harry anymore.

Harry stares at his feet, feeling his heart crumble a little in his chest.

“Your mum called me a few minutes ago, you know,” Louis says, breaking the silence.

Harry’s eyes snap towards his, feeling his cheeks burn even hotter than before.  He wants to curl in on himself for a quick second, but then he sees Louis’ smile and his bright open eyes and he feels Louis’ hand slip in between his, their fingers intertwined perfectly, and suddenly he knows that something good is about to happen.

“Oh,” he says, giggling a little at how stupid he sounds.  He can’t help it.  He’s touching Louis again after what seems like an eternity.  Just the brush of his fingers sends a cool rush of shivers down his spine.

“Yeah,” he continues, taking his hand out from Harry’s so he can place them on his waist instead.  “She said that you missed me?”

The little butterflies are back in Harry’s stomach.  They brush against his insides and turn him into a blubbering mess.  Harry is almost a bit jealous at how casual Louis sounds.  He wishes he could pour his heart out to the older boy and tell him how he’s been wrapping himself up in blankets almost every night since he left in hopes that it’ll feel like Louis’ warm embrace.  He wants to tell him that he’s been trying to find the same body wash that he uses so it can remind him of the times when Louis would walk out from the bathroom with water dripping from the ends of his hair, smelling fresh and clean.

But instead, all Harry can manage to do is utter a small “yeah,” averting Louis’ gaze.  He’s too afraid to even make eye contact with him even though somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that’s a silly thing to do.  He keeps his eyes locked on the little bit of space between them.  There’s only a sliver of pavement in between their feet and if Harry were brave enough, he would move his foot on top of Louis’ and play footsies with him.

“Why are you being so shy, love?” Louis asks, placing his index finger underneath Harry’s chin and slowly lifting it up.

Their eyes meet again briefly, and Harry swears he has never before seen such beautiful eyes in his life.  His breath catches in his throat and he has to physically pry his eyes away just so he can focus on his breathing once again.

He shrugs his shoulders, feeling his entire body blush.  “I don’t know how you feel about me,” he mumbles, trying his absolute best to look at anything and everything, except Louis.

There’s a long pause before there’s a sweet and gentle kiss pressed to Harry’s cheek.  It’s long and full of emotion that words can’t even capture and Harry is in heaven.  He’s been dreaming of Louis’ kisses every night and now he’s questioning if this is all just a dream.

“What did I tell you at Valerie’s office, babe?” Louis whispers.  Harry barely shrugs his shoulders.  He’s too overwhelmed by the little kiss on his cheek that still feels too cold on his very hot skin.  Louis chuckles quietly to himself upon seeing his baby’s rosy cheeks and dazed eyes.  He presses one more kiss to his forehead before whispering in his ear, “I told you that I’d come back to you if you still wanted me.”

At first Harry doesn’t know how to react.  He’s stunned at his words and his body is physically incapable of moving.  But then Louis starts to smile so big that it takes up his entire face and he wraps his arms around Harry’s back and suddenly Harry just wants to jump into the sky and squeal a bunch of nonsense.  He throws himself into Louis’ chest, knocking him over in the process and they roll around on the ground, ripping up grass and tossing at each other as they share loud giggles and laughs.

Harry can’t help but think this is the way he wants to spend the rest of his life.  He wants a relationship with Louis.  He wants to act silly with the boy and play games with him and go on adventures with him.  He wants to get butterflies in his stomach every day and get little kisses every night.  He wants to spend each and every day with the older boy, and this time, the thought doesn’t scare him one bit.

He lays his head in the crook of Louis’ shoulder, feeling content for the first time in a week.  This is what he’s been missing.  Louis was his missing puzzle piece.

Harry giggles, pressing his nose against Louis’ shoulder and inhaling the familiar scent that he thought he’d never get to smell again.  He smells the exact same way. 

“I’m so glad you came back,” he whispers.

Louis holds him closer, pressing a kiss to his hair.  “Me too, baby,” he says, his voice vibrating underneath Harry’s head.  “Me too.”

Chapter Text

“You know what I think, Louis?” Harry asks, snuggling in closer to his boyfriend. They do this every night, yet Harry will never get tired of it. He’s lying in the crook of Louis’ arm, gazing up at the stars while Louis keeps his arms wrapped protectively around Harry’s torso. Its times like these when Harry’s happiest. He feels so close and warm pressed up against Louis’ side, and if he could stay here forever, he would.

“What do you think, Harry?” Louis sighs, already knowing what’s going to happen. It goes the same way every night. They gaze up at the stars, Harry says something cheesy, and Louis internally cringes.

“I think the stars must be pretty jealous of you because their beauty doesn’t compare to yours."

Louis groans, mumbling about how much he hates those sappy remarks, and even though he says that every night, Harry never misses the way his cheeks flush or the way he tries to hide his smile. It’s for that reason that Harry will never stop saying those stupid and sappy remarks.

“Alright, on that note,” Louis sighs, standing to his feet and picking Harry up on his hip. He bounces him once and smiles fondly when Harry giggles loudly. He’ll never get tired of that sound. “I think it’s time for someone’s bath time and bedtime. What do you think, baby?”

Harry grins, nodding his head enthusiastically. He loves bath time more than anything. It’s the time where he can fall back into his headspace and allow his Daddy to wash his hair and body all while he’s in the bath tub too.

He presses his nose into Louis’ neck, hiding his grin. He really does have the best of both worlds. During the day, he’s known as plain, old Harry. He’s Louis’ adorable boyfriend who’s charming and witty. He’s good with all of Louis’ siblings, including the twin babies that were just born a few weeks ago. He helps cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner with Louis and occasionally throws grapes at him from across the room.

But at night, he’s Louis’ baby. He takes a bath with extra bubbles and toys, and he giggles and smiles shyly when Louis sits opposite of him in the tub. He carries Jeffrey the Giraffe under his elbow and sits on Louis’ lap while he reads his favorite bed time stories. He wears a nappy during the night and drinks from a bottle after his baby massage. And at bedtime, he sleeps curled up in Louis’ arms as his Daddy presses butterfly kisses to the back of his head until they’re both too tired to stay awake.

Their relationship isn’t typical, but neither one would have it any other way. Louis will forever be Harry’s Daddy, and Harry will forever be his baby.