"Haz?"

"Hm?" Harry wrinkles his nose, his sleep interrupted. It only takes a moment for his sleepy brain to realise that Louis made it back home, and he reaches out for him before he even opens his eyes.

Louis catches Harry's hand in his own, and when Harry opens his eyes, Louis' giving him a soft smile. "Hey, darlin', 'm home."

"Good," Harry says, groggy as Louis sits on the edge of the bed, squeezing his hand. He closes his eyes again, taking in the feeling of Louis' skin against his as Louis puts his other hand on Harry's too, pressing a kiss to it. "Come to bed. Millie's not as warm as you."

"Millie's not supposed to be in the bed at all, I reckon," Louis points out, but he takes a hand away from Harry's to scratch at the dog's belly. Millie just sighs appreciatively, tail wagging lazily against the sheets. He's quiet for a moment before saying, "I'm so sorry, Harry."

Harry keeps his eyes closed, sighing softly. "'S okay," He assures.

"I thought about it the whole time I was gone," Louis admits. Harry can hear his boots hit the floor as he takes them off. "It's horrible, I feel horrible. I don't know how I forgot."

"I'm not mad," Harry assures, opening his eyes again, a little more awake now. He sees the weak smile Louis gives him as he squeezes his hand again.

"I'm not apologising because I think you're mad," He says. "I'm apologising because I feel awful. 'S like, the most basic thing husbands are s'posed to remember, besides, like, your middle name or summat. It's my PIN for my debit card. Fuck, Paul 'n I were talking about getting tatted again soon 'n I was thinking of getting it on my wrist."

Harry laughs a little, eyelids still droopy. "Really?"

"Yeah, but after tonight 'm definitely going to do it," Louis says, chuckling. Harry grins, pulling Louis down to kiss him briefly. He smells like smoke, like he usually does after the bigger fires. Harry's never minded it.

"Y'do remember my middle name, right?" Harry asks against his lips. Louis leans back, and makes a fake panicked face, and Harry leans up and nips at the tip of his nose. "Wanker."

"Oi!" Louis laughs, kissing him one more time, mumbling "I love you, Harry Edward."

"There we are," Harry grins.

"Let me go change 'n stuff, gotta be back at the station in-" Louis glances over at the alarm clock on the nightstand. "Four hours."

"Or you could stay here with me all day," Harry coaxes, only half-kidding. Louis smiles, fond.

"I would if I could," He says, voice softer and a little sadder than before. "Kittens that need to be saved from trees and all that."

"I know," Harry sighs in disdain, leaning back into his pillow again. Louis sighs quietly, standing up off the bed and reaching over Harry to lift Millie up off the bed. She whines in protest, and he laughs, holding her like a baby in both of his arms.

"Sorry, little lady, that's my spot," He coos, walking towards the bedroom door. "Back to the lounge for you."

When he's gone, Harry runs his hands over his face, staring at the ceiling. There's a sour feeling in his stomach, still, and it's not just the forgotten birthday. It's the bickering and the tears when Louis' gone and the big hole in his chest that should be filled with his fantasy of marriage.

They didn't live together all of the time before they got married, and that was their own fault, really. Harry should've known. He stayed with Louis all the time, on all of his days off, had a toothbrush and a drawer in the wardrobe for his things at his flat.

But that's the thing, he only experienced the days off. When Louis was at work, Harry would go to his own flat and paint and go to work and not feel the emptiness he does in their big, shared house. It's all a little different now.

Louis is back after a few minutes, in just his boxers, and crawls into their bed. He spoons Harry from behind, kissing the back of his neck. He's asleep within minutes, Harry can tell by the way his breathing slows, but Harry doesn't sleep for the rest of the night.

♛

"It's always difficult in the beginning."

"Really?" Harry asks, swirling around the ice in his coffee with his straw as Taylor gives him a kind smile. "You're not just saying that?"

"No," She assures. "It's weird to adjust to, it takes time. You've only been married a few months, H."

"Five," He points out miserably. He feels like it should've gotten better by now, that they should've adjusted and been more at peace with their differing schedules.

"That's not that long, in the grand scheme of things," Phoebe points out. "It's been two years for Paul and I, we just got into the swing of things, like, a few months ago."

"I don't think Joe and I did anything for my birthday last year," Taylor assures.

"But I bet he didn't forget about it," Harry mumbles.

"I'm sure Louis didn't forget about it," Phoebe says. Taylor nods in agreement. Harry wants to kick both of them.

"No, he literally forgot," Harry says. "Like, even after he realised it was the first of February, it still took him a second. He admitted it himself. He forgot."

Taylor and Phoebe are both silent. "...Oh," Taylor says. Phoebe just sips her latte. Harry just rests his forehead against the tabletop, sighing. He can feel Taylor's hand on his back "Oh, H."

"Marriage is stupid," He grumbles, voice muffled.

"We both know you don't think that," Phoebe points out. "You love marriage. Even just, like, conceptually. It's just weird at first. I still don't remember to put 'Bridgers-Mescal' as my last name on documents and stuff."

Harry was calling himself Harry Tomlinson before they were even officially married. He started having the kids call him Mr. Tomlinson this school year, a month before their October wedding. He still feels a little giddy when he hears it.

"And it's normal to argue sometimes," Taylor assures. "You're both exhausted, it's bound to happen. Sometimes when Joe comes home I don't even want him breathing near me, I'm so tired and irritated. We get into it all the time."

"Last week Paul and I had to do taxes together," Phoebe mentions, shaking her head. "He has no concept of money, I was feeling violent."

"Phoebe," Harry laughs weakly.

"Not towards him, just in general," Phoebe says, raising her hands in defense. Taylor shakes her head. Harry's phone vibrates on the table, and when he lifts it up, he sees Louis has texted him.

Hey, miss you x

♛

"I think I'd be six feet under if I forgot Tay's birthday."

"Not helping, Joseph," Louis sighs, hands dripping with soapy water as he washes the fire truck. "She writes thirteen everywhere, on everything. She makes it impossible to forget."

"True," Paul says, water from the sponge in his hand dripping down to the ground. Does it take three people to wash a fire truck? No. But they'd do anything to be able to screw around on the clock.

"D'you remember Phoebe's?" Joe asks him.

"August 17," Paul says almost immediately. "She's a Leo."

Louis and Joe both stare at him for a few moments. "Alright, show-off," Joe scoffs.

"I know his birthday," Louis says with another sigh. "I just forgot that February 1st happened to be yesterday. I don't forget stuff like that, I remember everything he tells me."

"Everything?" Joe laughs, raising his eyebrows.

"The important stuff," Louis corrects. "I remember the important stuff."

"What's his favourite colour?" Paul asks.

"What is this, nursery school?" Louis scoffs, but he answers: "Pink."

"Favourite food?" Paul asks.

"He likes sushi," Louis says. "'Specially with crab. I bring it home for him after work sometimes. I'm usually very considerate, I like to think."

"You're probably not very considerate if you have to announce it," Joe points out. Louis flicks soapy water off his fingers at him.

"Okay, tougher one," Paul announces. "Favourite artist?"

"Elton John," Louis answers immediately.

"Is that really his favourite? Or just the safest, gayest answer?" Joe asks. Paul snorts. Louis is thinking about asking the chief if he can avoid working with them from now on.

"No, he loves Elton John," Louis assures. "When we were in uni, I'd play Your Song for him on the piano in the arts building. Did it the first time I told him I loved him."

"Aw," Paul sticks his bottom lip out.

"Who's the show-off now?" Joe grumbles, before continuing a little more seriously. "He's probably just feelin' a little forgotten about. You're either here, or at home catching up on sleep."

"I know," Louis nods. "And I feel bad. I miss him. Chief asked me if i wanted to switch to 48/96, I might take him up on it. I think Harry would like that," He wrings the sponge out into the bucket. "For now, 've gotta make up his birthday to him."

"Elton John is on tour," Joe points out. "Get him tickets."

"Isn't it, like, his last tour?" Paul points out. "Last chance to see him."

"That's...not a bad idea," Louis admits. Harry would love it, and it hopefully would fall on a night where he's not working. "I'll look into it. We're trying to save right now 'n buy a second car."

"Sharin's not working out anymore?" Paul asks.

"It was, until we got into it the other night 'cause of it," Louis explains. "Which was completely my fault, but I was just annoyed, and he never remembers to fill the tank, which usually doesn't even bother me, but it the day when that mum and kid died in the car accident we reported to, and I was exhausted and I couldn't stop thinking about it, I-" Louis sighs, shaking his head. "I didn't even realise how far we took it until he started crying, I felt awful."

"Did you tell him about the accident?" Joe asks. "That that's why you were so on edge?"

"No," He admits. "I was so worried about the fact I made him cry, I didn't even think of it."

"Hm," Joe nods. "Arguing is normal. Taylor was upset that I never text her at work. I just don't know how to respond to ten videos of our cats?"

Louis laughs. Harry used to text him pictures of Millie when he first got her last year. She was always Louis' dog too, but technically Harry's. He never sends them anymore. Louis wonders if it's because he thinks he won't answer, or care, and that breaks his heart a little. He makes quick work of pulling his phone out and texting him.

Hey, miss you x

"Oi!" The chief shouts, and they all turn around. "Does it really take three men to wash one truck?"

"Louis' too short to get the top," Joe explains. "We had to help him."

"Oi!" Louis huffs in protest. The chief snickers, shaking his head and muttering "Knuckleheads" as he walks by. Louis' phone goes off in his hand, and he looks down and grins at the reply.

Miss you too x what do you want to eat for dinner tomorrow night?

You :)

He laughs at the rolling-eyes emoji he receives in return before setting a reminder to look at Elton John tickets the next day.