Title: "I'm Practically His Babysitter Already" by ImSorryButWaht on AO3
Summary: The one where Louis gets sick and Harry has to watch over his Boobear.
Word Count: 3,932
Warning: Very fluffy:3
“Harry, I’m home!” Louis yelled, shutting the door behind him. Instantly, Louis was warmed with the welcoming heat of the flat and the chocolatey smell of what could only be Harry’s infamous triple chocolate chip cookies.
A smile lit up his face; he always looked forward to going home after a tiring interview. The woman that interviewed him tonight found it necessary to question Louis about Eleanor over and over again. It had started snowing a few days before as December took its toll on England. England was always cold, but no one was sure about a white December this year since it hadn’t really snowed in November like it usually does.
With nippy weather, mind-blowing winds, and constant flurries, it was a given to get sick. Louis stayed inside as often as he could like Modest ordered, but sometimes he had to go out. All of the boys got tired of just staying in their flats when they’re finally able to take a break.
Harry and Louis were forced in an interview to say that they weren’t living together anymore as it was supporting all of the “Larry evidence” as Modest put it. That’s the point, Louis had thought when Modest informed them they were to deny it to rid of these Larry rumours. To make it more realistic, Louis even posted on Twitter that he missed Harry.
The Tweet was true, at least, since Harry had been in Cheshire for a while to visit his Mum and Gemma, both of whom knew Louis’ and Harry’s real situation. None of the boys wanted to lie to their fans, but they had no choice most of the time. They couldn’t predict what would happen if Harry and Louis came out to the world, so Modest wouldn’t let them. Louis’ thoughts were interrupted by a bang that resounded from the kitchen.
“Hazza? Are you alright?” Louis called, shedding his coat and hanging it up.
A certain curly-haired lad skipped from the kitchen with a wooden spoon in one hand and flour all down the floral apron he had tied around his waist. “Boobear!” Harry yelled, running to throw his arms tightly around his freezing cold boyfriend, giving Louis what warmth he could. Louis laughed, twining his arms around Harry’s waist and looking up at the younger boy. “I missed you,” Harry admitted, leaning down to press his lips to Louis’ and Louis smiled because this is what he had been waiting for all day. For a few seconds, they let their lips mold together perfectly before Louis reluctantly pulled back a little to speak.
“I missed you, too,” Louis bit his bottom lip, rubbing circles into Harry’s hips with his thumbs.
“Good,” Harry purred (well, he tried, but he still hadn’t gotten the hang of it), placing an open-mouthed kiss on his boyfriends’ neck. Louis’ breath hitched and Harry pulled away, laughing with his dimples on full show.
Louis scowled, “You’re such a tease, you know that?”
“Of course I do, you tell me every day,” the younger lad winked; Louis huffed but he wasn’t angry. It was impossible for him to ever be angry with the boy that made him fall hard and fast in love; plus the curly-haired boy was just too damn cute for his own good. “Come on,” Harry grabbed his boyfriend’s hand, “I’m making cookies. Would you like to help?”
“Sure although I doubt I’ll be much help.” Louis agreed, using his toes to take off his soaked boots. He threw the soggy shoes on the tile next to the front door along with his ruined socks; yes, he actually wore socks that day. That gives an idea about how cold it actually was.
“That’s fine. I just like when you sit on the counter and watch because a pretty face always gives me inspiration,” Harry tapped the spoon on Louis’ nose, rubbing some chocolate on the tip.
Louis wiped the chocolate off with his finger and then he stuck the finger in his mouth, sucking the chocolate off. The ungodly moan he made to purposefully rouse Harry made Harry’s eyes widen and he shifted his weight around, cheeks flushed bright red. Louis’ eyes remained on Harry, who was watching Louis’ lips closely as if he was absolutely fascinated. He shouldn’t be that fascinated. Louis had used the same lips on every space of Harry’s body that Harry should be quite familiar with them. He got ready to voice his thoughts to Harry, but then he sneezed before he could form the words.
Harry frowned, concerned and his focus broken from Louis’ mouth, “Are you alright, Boobear?”
Louis chuckled, “Of course. ‘Twas just a little sneeze, Haz,” he insists.
Even though he was still slightly worried, Harry nodded and took Louis’ hand to drag him to their kitchen. “Sit,” he ordered, “I’m going to make you some Yorkshire tea.” Louis absolutely hated to be ordered around, but he took the seat anyway.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Of course I do. You’ve been out all day with Eleanor, and I want to be able to care of my boyfriend,” Harry grounds out the word “my”, emphasising his point. Louis winces and looks down at the countertop, remembering the awful day he had gone through.
All day, he had to make a public appearance with Eleanor Calder, the beard as the fans called her and he supposed that was the appropriate word. Then he had to go into an interview with that woman that wouldn’t stop asking about Eleanor and then he had another interview with the same man he absolutely loathes.
Nick Grimshaw had gotten on Louis’ bad side as soon as he flirted with Harry in the studio during a radio interview. There was no way Nick could’ve known Harry and Louis were together at the time unless he paid serious attention. Of course, Harry wasn’t helping at all since he was clearly flirting back. Sure, every once in a while he’d glance over at Louis, but Louis refused to look back at him every time; he was too pissed with Harry and Nick. Louis made sure Harry knew just who he belonged to that night.
No one is allowed to know of Harry and Louis outside of Modest and the rest of the band and boys’ families. Maybe that’s why Modest made Louis take the interview with Nick Grimshaw of all interviewers. They could been punishing him for falling in love with a bandmate and making everything complicated. It was complicated before Harry and Louis became official with all of the secret touches, and the occasional “accidental” kiss when the somewhat sexual tension got to be too much. So, to say the least, Louis didn’t have a very good day and all he wanted was to cuddle with his boyfriend until he fell asleep.
Huffing, Louis folded his arms on the countertop and he rested his forehead on them. “I really just want to go to bed,” he whined. Then he tried to make his voice low and sexy even though it was practically impossible, “With you,” he added.
“Not until I take your temperature and finish the cookies.” Harry stood his ground even though any other time he happily would’ve let Louis have his way with him in their room.
Louis moaned, “I’m not sick. It was just a small sneeze. You’re overreacting.”
“I’m only overreacting because I care about you,” Harry said honestly. Louis knew that, of course he knew it; Harry told him he cared every day. Even when they weren’t together as a couple, he still told Louis that he cared about him with such sincerity Louis would have to do a doubletake. It was nice to be pampered even when he might not even be sick, but it was also nice to sleep.
Eventually, Harry slid a nice mug of tea over to Louis, steaming twirling above it and a heavenly smell wafting from the single cuppa that made Louis’ toes curl. Although he had the urge to protest and refuse to drink it to show Harry he was fine, Louis took it.
One sip was all it took for Louis to fall in love with his boyfriend all over again. The warm liquid was at a perfect temperature, and it soothed his scratchy throat just like every other time Harry made him tea. Louis could barely make perfect tea for himself but Harry did it was effortlessly and it was perfect- Louis hated being sappy sometimes, but he couldn't help but think Harry is more perfect than even the greatest tea. Harry shoved the three pans of cookies into the oven, straightening up to put them on a timer. Louis watched, sipping at his tea and ogling his boyfriends’ ass shamelessly. It was small but firm, the opposite of Louis’; Louis loved it.
Once Harry turned around, Louis immediately said, “Can we go cuddle now? I’ve missed my Hazza-bear all day.”
The blue-eyed puppy dog look Louis sported made Harry seal the deal. Harry scooped Louis into his arms, much to the older boys’ protests that he didn’t pay attention to. “I missed you too. But we still have to take your temperature,” he reprimanded.
Louis groaned loudly, throwing his head back dramatically and kicking his feet to no avail but allowing Harry to carry him to their bathroom. He sat grumpily on the toilet, his feet on the cover of the bowl. To prove his point of not liking this one bit, he crossed his arms and turned his face away from Harry with his lip pouted in a fashion that was more adorable than anything. It didn’t do much; Harry was by far used to these antics from Louis after living with him for almost four years. He rifled around in the cabinets until he finally found the thermometer. Just to make sure, Harry rinsed it off in the sink before he took it over to Louis, standing in front of him expectantly.
“No,” Louis deadpanned, looking scornfully at the thermometer.
“Stop being a child, Lou,” Harry rolled his eyes, inching the thermometer closer to his boyfriends’ mouth.
“I’m not being a child!” Louis exclaimed indignantly. “But you are treating me like one. May I remind you I am older than you, Harold Edward Styles,” he huffed, looking away from his boyfriend again as if he was offended. Harry wanted to kiss and slap Louis at the same time; he was just trying to stop the inevitable like always. He was stalling.
“You know my name isn’t Harold, Lewis.”
Louis stuck his tongue out, “And you know how much I hate that thermometer so suck it.”
“Louis William Tomlinson.”
“You aren’t my mum, Harold,” Louis huffed indignantly.
“Would you do it for a kiss?”
Louis seemed to ponder for a second before he said, “Maybe...”
Harry gently grabbed Louis’ chin and turned his face to look at him; Louis licked his lips, eyes flickering from Harry’s eyes to the boys’ lips. Harry leaned in oh-so-slowly, eyes flickering down to Louis’ slightly parted, plump lips. His tongue flicked out, running over his top lip as his eyes trailed back up to lock with the blue irises in front of him. It took all of Harry’s willpower not to drag Louis into the shower so he could be pressed up against the wall and feel Louis’ fingers gripping his waist, keeping him in place as Louis had his way. All of the breath left Louis and his heart beat sped up as he parted his lips just a little bit more.
He was anticipating a kiss, of course, but instead a thermometer was forcefully pushed into his mouth when he least expected it. Louis gasped and pulled back, but it was too late.
“Bastard,” Louis glared at Harry, but left the thermometer in his mouth.
“You love me,” Harry smirked cheekily, winningly. Once the thermometer beeped, Harry took it with another cocky “thank you very much”. Louis rolled his eyes. Harry sighed at the temperature then showed it to Louis, “Are you sure you aren’t sick, Boobear?”
Louis opened and closed his mouth, “Ugh. It could be wrong...”
“Nice try,” Harry snorted. “You are being put to bed rest until your temperature goes back to normal.”
“You can’t make me!”
“Do you really want me to get Liam to come over? I will go that far.”
Louis thought it over before coming to the conclusion that Liam would be a lot more motherly than Harry. “No,” he sighed. Then he reached out, arms open, “Carry me?” he pouts adorably and widens his eyes. Harry laughs and picks up Louis again, sliding one arm under his bent knees and the other behind his back. He carries him out of the bathroom and down the hallway to the bedroom they now share. Louis’ old bedroom was turned into a guest room for when their mothers and siblings visit.
“Take a nap,” Harry commands, setting Louis down on his side of the bed.
“You’re leaving?” Louis frowns, holding onto Harry’s arm like a koala. “Why would you leave me in my time of sickness, Hazzabear?”
“Because I still have to finish the cookies and then make dinner...”
“Oh,” Louis glanced around and then innocently looked back up at Harry, “Then stay with me until I fall asleep?”
It didn’t take long for Harry to give in, laying on the bed with Louis, who cuddled into Harry’s side and rested his head on his boyfriend’s chest. Harry carded his fingers through Louis’ hair, humming quietly to try and speed up the process of sleep. Louis drew patterns on Harry’s stomach with his finger, pretending like he wasn’t actually just feeling his boyfriend’s abs. Harry giggled, ticklish, and Louis smiled fondly. But then Louis let out a body-wracking cough and the moment was ruined because Harry had to get up to get Louis some medicine. No matter how much Louis kicked and shoved, Harry eventually managed to get the medicine down Louis’ throat and Louis complained about the taste until Harry got up again to fix Louis another tea and take the cookies from the oven.
Paul wasn’t pleased when he came over the next day just to find Louis swaddled in blankets on the couch, tissues surrounding him, and five empty mugs on the coffee table in front of him. Harry was in the kitchen, fixing Louis the medicine he had to take every three hours for a speedy recovery. Louis had been coughing and sneezing all night, and Harry had been forced to sleep in the guest room so he wouldn’t get sick, too.
The cold had gotten the worst around midnight when he started to puke and Harry made Louis some soup in the desperate hope to sooth Louis’ stomach. Neither were in the best condition to do anything but lay around, cancelling the interview Harry was supposed to go to. Some cheesy movie was on the telly, and Louis immediately told Paul that the movie hadn’t been his choice as soon as the bodyguard used his key to open their flat door.
“Harry’s in a Leonardo DiCaprio faze...” Louis rubbed the bridge of his reddened nose, “Well, again, I mean.”
Paul believed him instantly because it wasn’t hard to believe... at all. “Where’s he?” Louis pointed to the kitchen.
“Hasn’t left since this morning. I’m worried he’s turned into some kind of cooking machine,” Louis wrinkled up his nose. It doesn’t last long because Louis suddenly starts sneezing, but not his usual kitten sneezes. These were frame-rocking sneezes that had Louis blindly reaching for another tissue and blowing his nose loudly. Paul turns and leaves the eldest of One Direction to find the curly-headed one.
“Harry,” Paul went to the kitchen and he found Harry making homemade soup
“Hiya, Pauly,” Harry smiled as best as he could, “What brings you here?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, instead passing him to take Louis his medicine, making sure the elder man took all of it before Harry handed him a new mug of Yorkshire tea.
“Thanks Hazza,” Louis smiled tiredly, nose bright red and throaty scratchy.
Harry planted a kiss on the top of Louis’ head and then he took Paul back to the kitchen. “He’s been sick all night,” Harry sighed, “Woke up at midnight because he was getting sick in the bathroom,” he winced like Louis’ pain was his own. Paul tried not to mentally curse Modest for keeping these boys cowering in a dark corner, away from the light where they could come out and be happy, but he wasn’t very successful. Harry looked away like he could read Paul’s thoughts.
“So, he won’t be well for a while? Should I call the doctor?”
“No!” Louis tried to scream, but his throat was too sore to protest very well.
But, he didn’t need to worry because Harry would protest for him. Always having Louis’ back, really. Harry rolls his eyes, calls, “Louis, don’t strain your throat!” There’s an indignant huff but nothing else comes from the living room after; Harry turns back to Paul. “No, he doesn’t need a doctor. At least, not yet. He’ll only fight a doctor anyway. We’ll see how the medicine works first.”
Paul sighed but nodded, “You’re okay with taking care of him?”
“I’m practically his babysitter already, Paul.”
“Actually, that’s my job.”
Harry winked, “I didn’t say what kind of babysitter.”
The look that came to Paul’s face made Harry laugh loudly. “I didn’t need that information, but alright.. Just... call the doctor if it gets worse, yeah? And don’t ever give me a hint of details... even again.”
“Sure thing,” Harry smiled, but his dimples disappeared when Louis started coughing again.
“Harry!” Louis called in a broken voice.
Paul patted Harry on the shoulder, “Good luck,” and he left as Harry rushed off to help his boyfriend with whatever he needed.
Louis didn’t sleep well that night, and Harry couldn’t sleep well because Louis couldn’t sleep well. So, basically, they stayed up all night watching sappy love movies with Louis’ head resting on Harry’s chest, away from his face. They were taking as many precautions as they could so Harry wouldn’t get sick, but it was also entirely impossible for them to ward away from each other for longer than a couple hours. Those couple of hours consisted of Harry baking and Louis watching movies while downing mug after mug after mug of Yorkshire tea. It was almost like any regular day... Well, until Louis started puking but otherwise it was a normal day.
Modest called earlier that day and Harry explained that Louis should be doing better any day now; they weren’t very happy but they realized Louis couldn’t magically heal because of money so they left Harry to deal with his sick boyfriend. Harry did just that. He even bathed Louis- with a handjob in between but details, details- and then he cuddled with him on the couch to start their marathon of cheesy movies until Louis finally fell asleep, his head still resting on Harry’s chest. Harry liked to think that for once maybe he was the dominant one. Louis would’ve denied it, though, so Harry just played with Louis’ hair until he fell asleep, too.
Harry woke up the next morning with the bed empty next to him. He rubbed between his eyebrows, frowning and slowly getting out of bed; he was terribly confused. Last night, he was positive that he’d fallen asleep with Louis on the couch. So waking up in his bed was definitely not something that was supposed to happen. For a moment he worried that maybe he had been sleep-walking again, but then he heard a crash from the kitchen and he was up and headed toward the kitchen in seconds, not lingering to think on the subject any more.
“Shit! Fucking hell! Damn you!” Louis was screaming in complete outrage, glaring at the pan lying on the kitchen floor. Harry winced because that was his favorite pan and now the handle was broken off.
“...Lou, it doesn’t understand you or your human language.”
“BLOODY HELL!” Louis shrieks, whirling around with wide eyes to face Harry. Harry looked at him, to his favorite pan, back to Louis, and he raised his eyebrows accusingly. Louis huffed, crossing his arms across his- bare, yummy, boyfriend, abs Harry noticed- stomach. “Don’t give me that look, you wanker. That pan had it coming.”
Harry frowned, “Well then,” he scoffs.
“Don’t make that face, Love, you’ll get wrinkles,” Louis winks.
Harry drops the face, “This is what I get for letting you puke on my favorite t-shirt?”
“Oh,” Louis pauses and then looks around the kitchen, his expression getting sadder and sadder as he looked. “I’m sorry, Hazza... I got up to make you a thank you for being the most amazing, perfect, gorgeous boyfriend ever breakfast, but I suppose I really can’t cook...” he slid down to the floor, slumping back against the cabinets and rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Harry stepped forward and quickly sat down next to Louis, maneuvering himself into the best position that he could get to so his head could rest on Louis’ shoulder.
He twined their fingers together, rubbing his thumb across Louis’ dainty knuckles lovingly. “You didn’t have to make me breakfast, Lou. I did what any other boyfriend should do when the love of their life is sick.”
Louis’ breath hitches, “I love you, Sunshine.”
The brilliant smile on Harry’s face is enough for Louis’ mouth to pull into a smile. He leaned forward and took Harry into a kiss, cupping the back of Harry’s mouth to keep him close. His fingers lightly press into Harry’s neck, keeping Harry from moving. Harry didn’t mind. The younger boy wrapped his arms around Louis, tugging him even closer and gently nipping on Louis’ bottom lip before deepening the kiss some more. Louis slipped his tongue through Harry’s perfect lips, tasting his boyfriend for the first time in the past couple of days. Damn sickness, Louis thought sourly, tangling his fingers in Harry’s curls and basically pulling the boy on his lap; Harry giggles and falls forward... too quickly. Louis’ head bangs back against the counter on accident.
“Shit,” Louis curses loudly, breaking the kiss and ultimately ruining the moment.
Harry was in hysterics, clutching his sides and his face burning a funny shade of pink. Louis rubbed the back of his head, scornfully glaring at the counter.
“Are you alright?” Harry sobered up enough to ask, carding his fingers gently through Louis’ soft hair.
Louis nodded, glowering, “I can’t believe you laughed at my pain.”
“I love you,” Harry supplied, grinning cheekily.
Louis scoffed, “Of course. Come on,” he clumsily stood up, reaching out a hand towards his boyfriend, who took it and stood. Harry looked around his kitchen, frowning because he loved Louis- he really, really loves him- but did he have to mess up his kitchen? Louis noticed his gaze and groaned, snapping his finger impatiently. “You can stay here and fix everything or we can go take a shower... together.”
“Naked?” Harry asked dumbly.
Louis laughed, putting a hand to his forehead, “What am I gonna do with you, Harold? Yes, naked, baby.”
Harry glanced once more at the kitchen and yeah he thought it could be taken care of later. So he took Louis’ hand and let his boyfriend lead him to their bathroom- the one with the jet bath.
Sorry I haven't updated in a little😬 Even though I don't actually write these...
ANYWHO HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE:)