"I'm sorry, Mr. Tomlinson, but you can't get pregnant."

Louis watched as Harry, his Harry, broke down, head in his hands. He bit his lip, reaching over and resting a hand on Harry's thigh, taking in the doctor's words.

"A-Are you sure?" Louis croaked after a second. A silly question, obviously, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He and Harry had been trying to have a baby for so long, Harry wanted to get pregnant so bad, they wanted a baby with all their hearts.

The doctor nodded, twisting his mouth with sympathy for the two boys. "We could always test to see if Louis can get pregnant. I mean, if you both would be comfortable with that."

Louis and Harry looked at each other, neither of them even considering that a possibility. "Could we have a moment to talk about it, please?" Harry asked. The doctor nodded, exiting the room and leaving Harry and Louis alone.

Louis thought it over. He was always the more masculine one in the relationship–more like the stereotypical father. That's who he wanted to be. Masculine. Pregnancy wasn't very masculine.

But, looking at how broken Harry looked when he was told he couldn't get pregnant, Louis' heart softened. His masculine form deflated a bit when his Hazza stared at the floor, playing with his wedding ring with a wobbly lip.

"What do you think, Hazza?" Louis croaked after a moment. It would be a big shift for both of them, Louis getting pregnant. Harry would have to top, something he's never done before. Louis had only ever bottomed once—obviously without Harry—and he decided that he liked being more in control (though he knew power bottoms were a thing, he still liked topping more).

"I think I want a baby," Harry said softly, his voice so delicate and gentle and God, he was meant to be a mother. Not Louis. Harry was practically built to be a mother. "But it's your body Lou;" Harry's voice broke. "You do whatever you want with it."

Harry started to cry again, and Louis really wished he wouldn't. Not in a rude way, he just didn't want Harry to guilt him and rush him into the decision.

However, he would do anything for Harry. His Harry. Harry Tomlinson.

"I want," Louis swallows thickly, not even believing himself when the words finally leave his mouth. "I want to carry our baby. If I can, that is. We don't even know if I can."

Louis looks down. There's silence before he can feel force hit him, causing him to stumble back. Harry has his arms wrapped around Louis' shoulders, face buried in the crook of his husband's neck.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Harry mutters into the skin of Louis' neck quietly, and shit; there's no going back for Louis now.

The doctor comes back in, causing Harry to pull back from Louis. His cheeks are pink, embarrassed that the doctor saw his act of affection. The doctor ignores it, instead looks at both boys with anticipation.

"I-I want to be tested," Louis admits, swallowing thickly. The doctor smiles and nods, and Harry has never looked more proud of Louis.

♛

They come back from the doctor with good news.

Louis can get pregnant. He has a fully functional uterus and, with luck, Harry can get him pregnant fairly easily. It may take a few tries, however.

Harry is buzzing on the car ride home, talking about baby names and nursery ideas and things he's talked about this entire time–but it's real now. They know for sure they can have a baby.

"When do you want to start trying?" Harry asks, excitement evident in his voice. Louis hasn't seen Harry this excited since he got Harry a bunny for Christmas the year before. The bunny's name is Lola and Louis plans on topping Lola this Christmas by getting Harry a baby.

It's early March; if he gets pregnant this month, he'll have the baby in December. Best present ever, right? Totally tops a rabbit.

"I don't know, Harry," Louis sighs, not meaning for it to sound so harsh. He doesn't want to be a buzzkill, but he's just now realising how uncomfortable this maybe–for the both of them. Louis had always taken care of Harry. Not only during sex, but just in life. He feels like he can't do that if he's the one pregnant, and that kind of upsets him. Looking after Harry is honestly what he lives for.

Harry's excitement falters when Louis' words come out as harsh and stern. He looks down at his lap, fiddling with his wedding ring again. His nails were bright red from when they went to Louis' mums a couple weeks ago–Phoebe had gotten new nail polish and wanted to test it out. Harry volunteered to be her test subject because "Fuck gender roles, Louis."

"Sorry," Louis sighs, hands gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles pale a bit. He's angry at himself for ruining Harry's giddiness. "I'm just stressed out, you know?"

Harry nods, still obviously upset. Louis offers him a small smile. "We can start trying whenever you want, H." And, Louis swears on his mum's life, Harry's entire face lights up as bright as the sun.

Because he's Louis' sunshine.