Chapter Text
Harry still remembers the first time he looked into those ocean blue eyes. Back then, when they didn't share a history, where they were nothing but two boys playing in a pile of dirt, while it was raining. With their mothers calling out their names, afraid they'll become sick if they stayed outside any longer. Funny enough, Harry's mother wasn't strong-minded enough to stop Harry from walking down the aisle seventeen years ago— not that she didn't try, but she simply didn't succeed. Harry had been just as reckless with that decision as he was at four years old, playing in the rain. Surprisingly the marriage would make him a lot sicker in the end than it did on the day he met the blue-eyes boy for the very first time, who used to be so flamboyant and full of light.
Twenty-nine years later, Harry finds himself wishing they never actually met or better, he would've pushed him in the mud, although the innocent, little boy didn't deserve that at all.
Louis isn't a boy anymore though. He has grown — maybe not extraordinarily tall for an alpha — but he has grown after all. The soft, gentle, flamboyant features have disappeared over time — Harry has seen it in real time and watched Louis become a proper alpha, with every positive and negative thing that includes.
"You're glaring again, babe." Harry snaps out of his line of thoughts, frustrated at how little it takes for Louis to get back under his skin again. He turns his head, focusing on naturalising his scent again, before his eyes settle on Tyler, his boyfriend. "You don't want to give him that satisfaction, don't you?"
"He's just so—"
"Irritating?" Tyler suggests, mindlessly fixing his blonde hair, before he places a hand on Harry's thigh, smug smile on the younger man's face. "I know, remember your first birthday with me? I thought he was about to kill me." Harry chuckles lightly, although the memory is not funny at all. Again, Harry remembers those icy blue eyes on that day — the way they shoot daggers into Tyler's direction, while simultaneously giving Harry the silent treatment. Looking back at it, he doesn't understand why he was there in the first place.
He should've brought the children and left right afterwards, like they're mostly doing now. Harry sighs again, like that eases the tension in his shoulders and the racing mind he has ever since the wedding invitation found it's way into Harry's hands.
Imogen and Sarah celebrate their forever. Save the date. 11-04-2026!
He knows Sarah what feels like all his life now, probably just as long as he knows Louis his ex-husband, his ex-mate. Although their contact has thinned out over the years, it's nice seeing her again, being so openly in love with her girlfriend. Sadly Louis knows her just as long as Harry does, meaning they definitely have to cross paths at this celebration. Harry knew right after reading the invitation and he still remembers the shudder that run through him at the thought of actively crossing paths again, circling around the same old people back from school again. Everyone wondering, how did it end? Harry's omega is just as unsettled about it as Harry's mind. On days like this, he's incredibly thankful for Tyler's chill attitude and the ability to pull a joke from nowhere, making it easier to breath, easier to be and not feel like he's carrying the wreckage of that fifteen year long relationship on his shoulders alone.
"Mom!" Harry looks down, Marlo, their seven year old boy looks up at him. His blue eyes so much brighter than his father's. Also, he's much, much more adorable than Louis. The little suit, the blue tie and the toothpaste grin plastered all over his face. Gosh, if everything about his and Louis' relationship turned sour, he'll always be thankful for his children. "Did you know Mrs. Headway also got married recently?"
Harry chuckles, exchanging a glance with Tyler. "I did, baby, yes. Remember you told me all about it last week?" Marlo nods, although Harry doesn't think he actually remembers. Or he does and he simply likes to talk, Harry can't blame him, also tending to talk far too much. "Also, she's in my Pilates class and she showed us some pictures."
"Was she also wearing white?" Marlo asks, glancing at Imogen and Sarah, who are probably already tipsy on sparkling wine and the feeling of being happily in love. Despite everything, Harry does remember how it used to be too — again, Louis' blue eyes being the centre of the memory.
"No, she was actually wearing a suit," Harry answers," looked exactly like the one you're wearing."
"Except the tie was so much bigger and had a questionable pattern," Tyler adds, amused grin on his face," so don't worry kid, you look so much cooler, yeah?" He winks at Marlo, whose smile could probably light up entire cities. Marlo has always adored Tyler, which probably also adds to the annoying attitude Louis has, whenever these two cross paths.
Tyler's fresh, earthy scent coats Harry into a gentle bubble of comfort. Very much needed in the position he's currently in. He slightly dips his head, smiling into his boyfriend's direction — already looking back in the kind of way that's dangerous and exciting all at once. Thankfully, Louis is taking the kids home tonight. "Does that mean, I am also getting married tonight?" Marlo asks, childish expression on his face.
"Kid, you're seven, relax! I don't think your Mom would like that right now," Tyler adds, laughing lowly, fingers squeezing into Harry's thigh in a familiar way.
"Yeah, no I wouldn't, besides for you to get married, you need to find someone fitting first. You know, who you love and see yourself with for a very, very long time. Forever preferably." Marlo seems to think, before he nods, looking away. Harry follows his son's gaze mindlessly, completely forgetting who's also existing in that direction.
This time, Harry isn't caught while spotting Louis. He can glare at him in peace — although the glare falls quickly from his face as he's watching Louis dance with one of their daughters. Lexi, their sixteen-year-old daughter is only about an inch shorter than Louis, probably growing taller than him soon enough. She has recently presented as an alpha, only adding up to the long list of things she carries around that are so undeniably Louis. It's ironic, Harry nearly laughs because of it. While Lexi looks nearly exactly like Harry — forest green eyes, long, brown curls, dimples popping out every time she smiles and her undeniable height — she act exactly like her father, like the universe thought it's funny to create a human that's the exact mixture of Harry and Louis.
She's sarcastic, a little closed off at times, way too stubborn in Harry's opinion, often being the breaking point in one of their arguments and she has always been protective of her family. It genuinely didn't surprise anyone when she presented as an alpha, but he doesn't fully like her becoming the emotional copy of her father — it can't be healthy, Harry guesses, pushing his thoughts away again, to just watch her and his ex-husband for a moment.
Louis is letting her lead the dance.
"Can I dance with dad too?" Marlo asks, big, puppy-like eyes looking up at Harry. It's difficult to say no to him — not that he was about to say no.
"Sure, if he's up to it," Harry answers and shrugs," just go to the dance floor. I'm sure Rosie is there too. I have seen her a few minutes ago, dancing with your cousin." Marlo nods, slipping off the chair and hurries towards the dance floor. Harry allows himself another glance — Louis and Lexi laughing, the signs of age looking less brutal on Louis' face now. Then Harry looks away again, finding Tyler already looking back at him.
"You know, sometimes, the kid knows what he's talking about." Harry blinks, not understanding where his boyfriend is going at. "On that note, let's get on the dance floor too, huh? My hands miss the dip of your hips, babe." Harry blushes at that, his omega happily chirping in his chest, after being unusually quiet all day long. Ever since slipping into a relationship with Tyler, Harry blushes what feels like everyday. The alpha's comments filled with desire, lust and something wild and free. Harry feels fuelled by it.
"Is that your way to ask me for a dance?"
"Sure." He holds out his hand.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
Despite Imogen's and Sarah's wedding being slow and rather quiet before, they do know how to throw a proper party. Harry feels his light purple dress clinging to his back, sweat already dampening his tanned skin. Tyler doesn't seem to mind, pressing kisses onto Harry's exposed shoulder — every time his teeth scratch over Harry's sensitive skin, it sends a shudder down his back.
Not all songs are exclusively lovingly. Some are straight up filthy, something Louis would never have allowed to play at their wedding. Talk Dirty one of the many examples, that's currently having Harry feel like honey in Tyler's strong hands, his warm, sparkling brown eyes glued to Harry's pink lips. The alpha doesn't waste any time, leans in and captures Harry's lips in a deepening kiss, involving tongue and grabby hands. It's easy like this — being in someone's embrace like this. Harry and his omega melt into every touch, every move of Tyler's lips.
They only part when the music suddenly ends, the immediate silence makes Harry flush as he's parting from his boyfriend. Obviously the music did not stop because of him, although observing ocean blue eyes indicate something differently.
Harry barely looks at him though and rather focuses on the drunk, but very happy pair of newlyweds.
"Gosh, Sarah is making me do this speech, like we haven't said enough already," Imogen introduces her little speech. Her Irish accent thicker when she's drunk. One arm is wrapped around her wife, proud smile plastered all over her face — she's grinning like she just won an Olympia medal, like she got an Oscar or a Grammy.
Weddings are a traitorous, vile thing, he decides, Tyler's strong arms wrapped around him from behind, his wandering lips leaving no room for imagination what he wants to do tonight. Harry shamefully thinks of his own wedding though. The feeling of ecstasy rushing through him, a high nothing ever came close to — the impatience of finally getting bonded for the first time. It blinds people, he adds, leaning deeper into Tyler's possessive touch.
"We want to thank you all for coming." Her words slur together, pulling a giggle from Sarah, whose lipstick couldn't be more smudged. "For celebrating this night with us, sharing and celebrating our love. I'm becoming sentimental again — my parents are gonna roll their eyes again, but— gosh, this world needs more love, so thank you, thank you, thank you for celebrating it with us."
"Bit sappy, huh?" Tyler mumbles amused, mouthing another kiss to Harry's shoulder. Harry nods, agreeing, he supposes, leaning further into the touch.
"Bar is already open, we know, but— let's go crazy!" Sarah cheers next to her, pulling her wife into a lingering, not entirely appropriated kiss. It's youthful and reckless in all the right ways, Harry thinks, smiling brightly at the scene that's unfolding in front of him. As the crowd cheers, Harry does too, eyes wandering around — not with a purpose, but it feels like everything ends with a glance into Louis' direction. It's the stupid wedding, he guesses, spotting Louis clapping too.
Rosie, their thirteen-year-old is standing next to him, blue eyes twinkling at the love filled speech. She's looking absolutely adorable in her bright blue dress, floating as she's moving— the shade reminding Harry of their vacation several years ago. They were relaxing at the beach in Spain, Lexi and Rosie building a sand castle with the endless ocean in the background. Back then, when Louis' eyes still held warmth, not the ice they do now.
Stupid, fucking wedding.
He's about to turn to his boyfriend, but his mother, Valerie, is getting in between of that action. She's visibly tipsy, cheeks rosy, smile bright, dimples popping out— alcohol always makes her an entirely different person Joan. "Boys, aren't they lovely," she claims, already going in to cup Harry's cheeks, as Tyler let's him go, chuckling amusedly," oh gosh, I love weddings. Free drinks, love in the air and an overall amazing mood, no drama, just fun." The smile on Harry's face must look painfully stiff, Harry thinks, but his mother doesn't seem to notice, at least she doesn't say anything and turns to Tyler. "Looking good, how's your Mom? Still in Asia?"
"Yeah, won't be back for a couple more weeks," Tyler answers, laughing easily. Joan, Tyler's mother, is a free spirit, she always explained — leading her to all the places her heart desires. Usually always on the run, exploring a new continent, a new country, a new city. "Seoul seems to treat her well."
"Ah, wonderful. Isn't it lovely, Harry?" She looks towards Harry. "Maybe that would help you two too?"
"Val, me and your son are perfectly fine. Don't worry about us, yeah?" Tyler is quick in putting her back into her place. She tends to become overly protective over Harry, standing on their door unannounced, swinging by on Sundays, sending them unnecessary packages and calling nearly every night. Harry loves his mother, but she's a lot. "Where have you left your husband?"
"Oh, god knows where he is. Those husbands are utterly useless anyway, am I right?" She winks into Harry's direction. If he wasn't stuck at this wedding, he probably would've laughed, but in the corner of his eyes, he can still spot Louis dancing with their daughter, Marlo on his back and a smile on all their faces. Besides, Harry is desperately trying to ignore the glances coming from Louis all night long. He has done a pretty good job, until now, especially since Valerie decided it's fun to look over to Harry's ex-mate.
"Very right, Val." Tyler's charm makes Valerie look back at them, away from Louis. "Why don't we have a quick dance, huh?" Surprisingly, she's all in immediately. Harry mouths a quick 'thank you' into his boyfriends direction, who effortlessly pulls Harry's annoying mother over the dance floor.
Harry breathes out, heading towards the door, ready for some fresh air. Shaking off whatever is bothering him all evening long. Some moments alone is exactly what he needs right now. Tyler will manage to keep his mother occupied for a few minutes, because despite her not being his fan right away, it took one dinner to change her mind.
Really fit, Harry! Funny too. He supposes, the expensive red wine also played a huge role in that.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
The late spring night is quiet, warm. Imogen and Sarah chose a location away from the city centre, with a view of a little park and a small lake, in which the stars and the moon shimmer faintly. It's a nice location, Harry thinks, although the beauty of it feels tainted.
It's the scent that reaches Harry, before his voice does.
Sandalwood with hints of clean linen gets carried by the light breeze, unmistakably Louis.
"She still talking shit about me?" Harry turns his head, although he doesn't have to. He could've told from memory how Louis must look right now. Hands in his pockets, walk slow, words slightly slurring from one beer too many. The blue of his eyes cold, lines of his face making him look older than he is. Suit perfectly tailored, probably bought for this exact occasion. All of Harry's thoughts get proven right.
He doesn't answer, let's his eyes fill the silence, he hopes, before looking back into the night sky. The wind messing with his curls so gently, like there's no storm inside of Harry mind, like this night alone hasn't messed with his head for decades to come. He was fine with only ever sharing necessities, waiting in cars when they dropped the kids off, sending quick texts for Christmas and birthdays, on New Year's Day too sometimes. Tonight, Harry can't help but wonder if his life would be easier if he never married Louis Tomlinson.
"Staying silent, suits yourself," Louis adds calmly. There were as many times, in which Harry loved that calm manner as there were times in which he hated it. In some situations it feels like the saving instance, while fighting it feels like the sharpest kind of knife. "Rosie told me about her play in school. She wants me there, you know?"
"Fine with me," Harry mumbles. They always sit far away from each other at events like that. Louis also never asked Harry if that's alright, not that he actually did now, but it sounds a lot like he wanted to.
"Ah, he can speak," Louis adds, still calm, although Harry imagines there's a snarky undertone lingering somewhere between the lines. There were times, where Harry could read Louis like an open book, everything written between the lines so painfully obvious to Harry, now he's left assuming and guessing. A glance into the alpha's direction proves there's nothing left to read anymore. Stone-like expression to his face, fingers curled around a cigarette now.
The smoke messes with Louis' scent — the only thing that hasn't changed in the past five years.
One of the many still existing things that make his omega feel uneasy in his chest. It's simple biology, Harry is aware, has learned about bonds and invisible strings between mates early on. Once, he even fantasied about them — adored the idea of being bonded to someone for the rest of his life. Having a soulmate does sound thrilling after all, unless they turn into some sort of opponent, with the knowledge to hit you where it hurts.
"What do you want?" Harry finds himself asking. His own voice feeling unrecognisable in his mouth, scent turning sour, making Louis scrunch his nose. Only now Harry spots the changes in his face — he must've stopped shaving his beard everyday, leaving a few stubbles, some of them grey already, just like the sides of his hair. He's aging, just like Harry is. "More time with the kids? A weekend away with them?" Harry looks away, the signs of five years between them heavily on Harry's tense shoulders. "Or do you want to talk badly about my private life again?"
"A smoke. That's all I wanted."
Harry scoffs, not believing the alpha at all. He knows he gets under Harry's skin, pulls the right strings, says the right things and makes Harry feel like an idiot for living his life how he wants now.
"A sign you should stop that unhealthy habit." One of the many things that drove Harry up the wall during their marriage. Louis' clothes always smelled like cigarettes, just like his car, his hair and the kids whenever he was with them. Harry hated it, but Louis simply didn't stop — still seems to be addicted to those glowing sticks, probably still claiming they're calming his nerves. As if Harry hasn't offered at least five other ways to deal with stress.
"Now you're the one talking bad about my private life." Harry falls quiet, breathing out to keep his calm. All while Louis sounds so fucking unfazed like he never even cared in the first place.
"I'm just saying it's a bad habit," Harry explains quietly, focusing on the moon reflected by the still water," and that it is setting a bad example for our children."
It's Louis who's scoffing now. The smoke tickling Harry's nose, followed by a whiff of sandalwood and something sweeter. Something so not Louis, Harry glances into Louis' direction. "Harry, don't start this tonight, yeah?" Louis has his head tilted. Oh, he must feel like the bigger person again, Harry thinks, anger blooming deep inside the pits of his stomach. Radiating off him in waves.
"You—" There's so much Harry wants to say, yet so little comes actually out. He's sure Louis is scenting the air on purpose. His signature scent cut by something flowery, something undeniably omega-like. Harry wrinkles his nose in disgust. "Stop pretending to be so almighty, Louis." His cigarette glows in the dark. "You still reek of your latest omega, you missed your sons first reading contest and you forgot to pick Lexi up from her friends house. So, don't fucking pretend like you're the perfect parent and I'm just a mess, okay?"
"You really want to do this?" Harry scoffs, turning away, ready to walk off. This is ridiculous anyway. Louis is a righteous alpha, always hiding behind his stupid job and how important he is in the department, completely forgetting how important the role of a father or a husband is. "You and your boy toy have been all over each other on the dance floor. Two weeks ago, you forgot to pick the children up from my mother, too caught up in your little rendezvous with that boy of yours. Then last year, you and Lexi dyed your hair pink before school picture day. You made Rosie sign up for ballet classes although she wasn't interested in it at all, all because you wanted her to dance. Also, you were mad at me for even signing Marlo up for that book club, although he's absolutely loving it!"
Harry rolls his eyes. "Besides, some people have to actually work for their money, Harry. They have a respectable job with responsibilities and stuff. I'm sorry if I struggle with showing up all the time, but I'm fucking trying." Harry shakes his head. "Not that you have ever noticed that," Louis mumbles, which Harry ignores so easily, glaring at Louis now.
"Stay at home, take care of the kids. Oh you look so pretty taking care of our children." Louis looks away like he has been villainised by his own words, by a version that's still lingering underneath the stone walls of the alpha in front of Harry. An alpha Harry's omega does not recognise anymore — unless a wave of his scent swirls around Harry's nose, having hints of black pepper written all over it now. Oh, he's getting underneath the skin of the untouchable Louis too. "You wanted me to be your stay at home omega, now you complain I don't have a fucking career to fulfil my life?"
The alpha stubs out his cigarette, hands sliding back into his pockets.
"Besides, being a hairdresser is a respectable job too, you fucking dickhead," Harry adds full of rage — built up anger, brooding in him for five years now," we can't all be so called important figures of society. If people like me didn't exist, everyone would walk around with a hairstyle like you. Old and messy."
Louis rolls his eyes right into Harry's face, only fuelling the omegas rage.
"Those are grey hairs, Harry. Not the end of the world."
"You know what? This is pointless. Talking to you is so fucking pointless, it's laughable."
"You're acting worse than our children." Harry slams the door shut behind himself as he's entering the hall again, shutting Louis' voice out immediately, while simultaneously getting met by the loud music that's making the walls and the floor shake. He exhales deeply, not looking back, before heading back into the crowd.
Nothing inside has changed, although outside might as well a storm broken lose. Everyone else seems as happy and relaxed as before, unaware of the chaos swirling around in Harry's mind. Only ever becoming quiet again as Tyler is coming back into view, twirling both Harry's mother and Rosie around.
Tyler's expression soften as he's spotting Harry, not wasting much time, before he lets go of the two hands and reaches out for Harry's. "Glad to have you back, babe," he whispers against Harry's ear, hands holding Harry close, grip slightly possessive, making Harry sigh contently. His omega's uneasiness disappearing slowly.
"Scent me, please," Harry mumbles, feeling stupidly vulnerable.
Stupid, fucking wedding.
Stupid, fucking Louis.
"Babe," Tyler whispers lowly, the grin on his face easily imaginable for Harry — having it seen thousands of times already," we're in public, you know that right?"
"Please?" Harry whispers, nudging Tyler's cheek with his nose, before baring his neck a little more.
"Can't say no to a pretty omega like you, huh?" Tyler spins them around. Movement a bit dramatic and absolutely silly, but it makes Harry laugh, before Tyler shoves his nose into Harry's neck, tongue gently moving over Harry's scent gland. Tyler's scent of freshly cut grass sinking into Harry like a reminder of things still being good, still being easy and him being lovable.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
Harry's feet have never ached as much as they do right now. He has never danced as much as he did tonight — not even at his own failure of a wedding, too pregnant to do so. Tyler has spun him all around the dance floor all night long, then Harry has danced with Sarah, Rosie, Marlo and Lexi, before he found himself back in Tyler's arms.
His little encounter with Louis faded into forgotten memory, at least until the party is slowly winding down, only a few guests left. The music soft and slow and gentle — lovingly. The sickest kind of love songs. The one's so disgusting, so stained with Harry's own wedding dances.
Marlo is already asleep in Harry's arms, exhausted from today's events. Harry can't wait to fall asleep in his boyfriends arms later. First of all, he has to get his son back to Louis and say goodbye to his girls for the night.
All his nightly plans are thrown out of the window as soon as he's spotting Louis, Rosie and Lexi bundled around a table. A worried expression on Harry's ex-husband's face, one hand on Lexis back, with the other he's holding a bowl. Harry raises his eyebrows and picks up some pace, Tyler struggling to keep up with the sudden change of pace.
"What's going on?" Louis' head snaps up. His usual cool demeanour visibly shaken, his scent on edge, slightly spicy, wavering.
"Lexi, aunt Charlotte and our cousin Nina had some wine," Rosie explains and shrugs, looking back at her sister.
"She had what?" Harry looks back at Louis, who has already turned his head into Lexi's direction, hand soothingly moving over her back. Her pale skin indicating she's feeling terribly sick. "Louis, what the fuck is wrong with your family?"
"Don't." That's all he says into Harry's direction, before speaking to their daughter again. "Hey, darling. It's okay. If you need to throw up, it's okay." She shrugs, looking from Louis to Harry. Her green eyes tainted with something, Harry can't really tell what.
It feels like a kick to the gut. "We were all young and dumb once, babe," Tyler adds, his parental expertise worthless as ever. Alexis is still young — far too young to get drunk.
Harry still remembers holding her tiny body in his arms. Hands so tiny, always reaching out to grab either Harry or Louis. She was so small, always searching for her parents warmth, crying whenever she wasn't being held by either one of them. Her sparkly green eyes full of curiosity. Now, just like her father, that spark has burned out.
"She's sixteen years old, Tyler."
"He's right though," Louis suddenly adds, helping Lexi up, who leans into Louis' touch immediately. She has always been a fathers girl, Harry stood absolutely no chance and there was a time where he loved it, where he could watch them in awe for hours. Now it feels bitter, Harry feeling selfishly betrayed. "Happens to all of us, Harry."
"Know what I was doing," Lexi slurs, struggling to stay on her feet," tired."
"I know, darling, lets go home, yeah?" Louis exchanges a glance with Harry. Worry written all over his face though, betraying the alpha in his usual distanced manner. Harry doesn't feel like just dropping this though, without any mention of consequences. "Rosie, can you pick up her purse, please?"
"Louis, you can't just leave. We need to talk about this!"
"Harry." Tyler tries, but Harry ignores him. This has nothing to do with him. This has everything to do with their children. Maybe they managed to raise them without properly talking to each other in the last five years, but something is going wrong right now and Harry won't watch his daughter lose herself.
"Now you want to set up rules, Harry? Right now?" Lexi curls into Louis' arms. "You're okay with bright pink hair, skipping school on a Monday for a concert and talking to her about a mother-daughter-tattoo, but a bit of wine is where you draw the line?"
"It's not just the wine, it's the why!"
"Aunt Charlotte was so drunk too, Mom," Rosie tries," Dad already tried to make her stop—"
"Yeah, and where was he when your sister had her fair share of wine, huh?"
"This isn't worth it, Harry," Tyler mumbles, grabbing Harry's shoulder," it's late and she seems to feel sick."
"Listen to your boy, Harry. We're leaving!" Louis' voice is firm. Not making a suggestion, but making a decision. Harry nearly let it happen, but he can't, not even when he's picking up on the calming pheromones Louis must push into the air — the scent of fresh linen so dangerously strong, Harry nearly gives in.
"No, I want to talk to her about this."
"You can do that tomorrow." Harry shakes his head though.
"Don't wanna talk," Lexi whispers, face paler than before.
"This behaviour just isn't okay. I'm not sure where you picked that one up, but alcohol is a unhealthy habit, love. You shouldn't—"
"Oh, now here comes the fun-police," Louis interrupts Harry harshly, his unfazed shell cracking," I know you're on some strange health-trip lately and that you and your boyfriend have sworn off alcohol, but don't act like she has some problems because he had a bit of wine."
"Louis, for someone who's all about responsibility, you surely act like a shit father."
A beat of silence fills the room.
"I'm acting like a human, Harry, not holding her to any stupid standards you made up in your fucking head."
"Oh, so very mature of you. We should applaud you for that."
Lexi pushes herself away from Louis, wrapping her arms around herself, before she starts walking. "I hope Sarah and Imogen's future child has parents who actually love each other," she mumbles before hurrying outside.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
I hope Sarah and Imogen's future child has parents who actually love each other.
Harry couldn't admit it there, but in the darkness of his bedroom, he can admit it; it hit him hard. Curled into Tyler's side, Harry feels the tears rising into his eyes, burning traitorously, like he hasn't already cried entire rivers because of this — because of Louis.
This is one of the many reasons, why they never actually talk to each other. It always escalates, but it seems like they already made it escalate in silence too.
"Do you think I'm a bad mother?" Harry whispers into the dark room. The blankets Harry made Tyler drench in his scent of freshly cut grass and hints of rain soothing the distressed omega in Harry's chest.
"No, 'course not," Tyler whispers gently, pressing kisses to Harry's wet cheeks," it's just difficult, you know? My parents weren't together either and I turned out just fine, don't you think?" Harry sighs. "I think you two have to… start tolerating each other again?"
Harry groans, feeling way too tired for actual words.
"Trust me, I hate to say this too, but— it's obvious that they're torn between you two," Tyler adds, nose gently rubbing over Harry's neck," that's not fair, I guess."
"But he's so— irritating," Harry mumbles, eyes closed already," he thinks he's so much better, smarter and always fucking right. Also, he never loses his cool. It's so annoying, you can never truly fight with him."
"I get that, again, I could also imagine better things than you spending time with your ex-husband and mate, but— I don't want you to miss out on your children. Can't ask you to do that," Tyler explains softly, still drenching Harry in his scent. It doesn't really matter if he's doing it to be possessive over Harry or to calm him — both works perfectly fine, in Harry's opinion. He sighs again, relaxing in his alpha's arms.
It's not fair, he thinks. Moving on entirely off the cards, it seems.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
On Thursday, Harry is meeting Louis in a cafe around the corner of Marlo's elementary school. It feels like an early summer day, the sun high above London, pressing heat through the streets, pulling everyone out of their homes. After the long, greyish winter, this feels like a dream, exactly what Harry needs for the storm that's ahead of him.
The café is small, coloured with pastel green, tons of plants everywhere and they're serving the best cupcakes in town. They're deliciously sweet, sticky and exactly what Harry needs after the Pilates class Tyler just put him through.
The place has a golden bell above the door, announcing every new customer, before the sound fades into the background, replaced by the Top 100 on the charts, plus some of the baristas favourites. Since Harry is a regular, the blue-haired barista already smiles at him. Their name is Alex, Harry has learned and they have a deep running love for folk music, hence the Bon Iver, Mumford and Sons and Noah Kahan mix, between the pop bangers of today.
They already work on his matcha latte before Harry even says something, placing the cupcake with the cherry on top on a small plate. "Could I also get a black coffee, please?"
"Sure," Alex answers and nods, before placing the matcha in front of Harry," no milk at all?" Harry shakes his head. Louis has never had his coffee with milk or sugar, always claimed it would make the caffeine work less.
It does not surprise Harry that Louis isn't there yet, although Harry was also five minutes late. He picks a table at the window, where the sun still reaches him. It's a quiet afternoon, most people probably outside enjoying the warmth. Harry is dressed in a baggy pair of blue jeans and a pink top, a piece of gold jewellery dangling from his neck that Tyler got him for their one-year anniversary. Sometimes he touches it for emotional support, like he does now, eyes wandering towards the door and back down to his sweet cupcake, he refuses to eat already.
Alex looks into Harry's direction more than once. Harry isn't sure if their face carries some sort of pity or curiosity. Maybe a little bit of both, Harry doesn't look back anymore, keeps his eyes fixed on the shop on the other side of a the road. People walk in and out, Louis nowhere in sight.
It's not like Harry is surprised, but he's disappointed. Just like he has been all the other times Louis simply didn't show. All kinds of explanations on his tongue, followed by a half-felt apology and the promise to get better. Harry scoffs at the thought of that, slightly shaking his head.
The bell above the door cuts through the new Lady Gaga single, Harry has already religiously heard in the kitchen, while making dinner or getting kissed against the kitchen counter. Now he turns his head, spotting Louis slipping inside, not bothering to order anything for himself, only throwing a polite 'hello' into Alex direction, before spotting Harry and walking over.
Louis always had a certain way to carry himself — even before he got the promotion of becoming a detective. His shoulders have become broader over the years, even before the divorce. Usually, he has his endless tattoos on display. Today he hasn't, arms hidden underneath his black leather jacket, a simple white shirt underneath, paired with black trousers. It's casual, but he always managed to pull that off quite well.
Despite Louis' scent filling the space before any word could, Harry keeps the bothered expression on his face. After all, Louis is twenty minutes late.
"Sorry, I came here as fast as I could," Louis says quickly, sitting down as fast as he walked here," the interrogation has took longer than I expected."
"Whatever," Harry mumbles, still not surprised at all," your coffee is cold now."
"Oh, uhm— that's okay. Thank you though. You want another… whatever you had?" Louis offers, a little less guarded today. Harry isn't sure if he likes it or not, unsure where to place Louis' sudden change of action. Maybe he genuinely feels bad about being late — or it's something else entirely. Harry doesn't like reading too much into it, only nods. "You still want a cafe latte?"
"No, I'm drinking matcha latte now," Harry answers, leaning back in his chair," healthier, you know?"
"Alright, one second." Louis gets up again, walking over to Alex, who exchanges a quick glance with Harry. They obviously know Harry is in a committed relationship with Tyler, unaware Louis is Harry's ex-husband.
The idea of that part of his life not running ahead of him for everyone feels nice. Some people have no idea he has been married before.
"Is it always this green?" Louis asks as he's putting it down in front of Harry, before he sits back down again.
"Yeah," Harry whispers," like I said, it's healthier and I like it. Tyler recommended it to me."
"Of course he did," Louis mumbles, sipping on his cold coffee," already seems like something all the hipsters drink."
Harry scoffs and shakes his head. "You do it again, you know? Not taking him seriously."
"Did you call me here to talk about my opinion on your boyish boyfriend?" Louis raises his eyebrows, tone rather defensive again. He leans back in his chair — Harry has never seen it with his own eyes, but he imagines that's how he looks while interrogating someone, how he looks while facing someone terribly guilty.
"No, but it's not your place to be judgmental of him," Harry explains simply, talking a sip from his matcha, before he finally takes a bite of his cupcake. The sweet taste is exactly what he needs to deal with the grumpy, annoying and difficult alpha in front of him — the alpha his omega still somehow recognises as some sort of mate. Even after five years of separation. "He treats both me and the kids really well."
"Because he's almost a child himself," Louis mutters under his breath, avoiding to look back at Harry again.
"At least I'm in a stable relationship, Louis, and don't jump from omega to omega!" That gives Harry Louis' attention again, scent of the alpha sharpening, almost like he's about to start a fight soon. It pulls the corner of Harry's lips up, making him grin lowly. "What? Struck a nerve?"
"You want me to spent my ruts all on my own because… it does not fit your image of how my life should be?" Louis has his eyebrows raised, taking a sip from his coffee again, eyes following Harry taking another bite from his cupcake, a bit of frosting getting stuck to his nose. "Not complaining about you spending your heats with Tyler, am I?"
"You don't have to. I can read it on your face," Harry comments," besides, you don't need to bring more instability into our children's life. We all know where that leads." Louis laughs lowly, sounding bitter in Harry's ears.
"So, you want to place the blame on me? Of course you fucking do." He shakes his head, while Harry takes a bite of the cheery that was on top. Louis' eyes are glued onto him.
"The children love Tyler, Louis. No matter if you hate him or not," Harry explains and shrugs," you can't say the same about your bed warming omegas."
"Don't be silly."
"Well, what do you think is the reason for Lexi's behaviour."
"Me going out with omegas has nothing to do with Lexi's behaviour, Harry. It's your inability to act like an adult. You always try to make a scene, try to get a reaction out of me!" Louis has slight raised his voice, Alex's eyes on them immediately, like some sort of alarm bells ring in their head. Harry slightly shakes his head. "Besides, you think it's normal that you're with someone who is nine years younger than you? Doesn't seem entirely stable either."
Harry rolls his eyes.
"Well, he shows up."
Louis rolls his eyes too.
"Yeah, because he's doing Pilates classes and gives unnecessary tips to testosterone driven, young alphas in the gym all day." Again, Louis manages to get underneath Harry's skin.
"Oh please, don't start that one again. We get it, you're so much more alpha for having a dangerous job, where everyone carries a gun and pretends their important blah blah blah. I don't fucking care, okay?" Harry could say so much more, already at the tip of his tongue, but he keeps it inside. "I'm happy," he adds though, having to rub it in.
"Alright, well, good to hear," Louis answers, and shrugs, back to the distanced attitude," anyway, let's talk about Lexi then, about our children. That's why we're here after all." Harry finishes his cupcake, licking his fingers clean, while watching Louis' eyes move over every twist of Harry's tongue.
Alpha's are all the same, Harry realised at a young age. Still in school, right after he presented and suddenly his alpha friends started to treat him differently, would straighten their backs, puff out their chests and felt the need to over-explain everything to Harry, like he was stupid, like being an omega meant having less brain, less strength and less ability to do basic tasks. So many alphas still see omegas as nothing more than a desirable object, something to have around.
Harry clears his throat, nods slowly. "Well, I don't think the conversation you had with her was enough," Harry admits and shrugs," alcohol is actually dangerous, Louis." Said man rolls his eyes. "I don't understand how you can always walk around with a stick in your ass, but for some reason your daughter getting drunk for the first time doesn't bother you at all. Would it bother you if my mother got her drunk?"
"Don't be silly," Louis answers and shakes his head, taking another sip from his coffee — not even wrinkling his nose, despite the black liquid probably being as cold as ice. Fits his attitude, Harry thinks. "We both got drunk quite early and I just think it's hypocritical of us to be genuinely mad at her for it. Yes, it was not okay, but it wasn't the end of the world either, Harry. If I remember correctly, you threw up from your first fair share of beers when you were seventeen — i could still smell the vomit in my car for months, okay?"
Harry looks away.
"As parents we're supposed to keep her away from stupid decisions like that," Harry claims, focusing on a tree in the distance. It's fresh, green leaves dancing in the light breeze, reminding Harry the day is far too good to be stuck in a coffee shop with his righteous ex-husband.
"Pink hair isn't a stupid decision then?" Harry does not have to look at Louis to know he has tilted his head, expression cool, like he's in an interrogation room, not like he's speaking to someone on his level. "Look, Harry, I'm with you in a way, but— my point is, we were both young once."
It's not like Harry planned it, but he just snaps. "You're with me on this one?" It's not only Louis' eyes that are widening. The few other people around them, Alex included, look at them too with their eyes widened and their ears turned into their direction. "I haven't noticed that, Louis." Harry has mastered the way of saying Louis' name like he's spitting it out like a piece of rotten food. "All you did so far is criticise my life, the way I express myself, the person I love and the way I raise our children. You never even tried to understand my side of the story."
"Because there's no 'your' side of the story," Louis adds, calm as ever and Harry hates it. It drives him up the wall, makes his stomach twist and his hands form to fists. Can't he yell back? Just once? "You're struggling with her growing older. That's it."
Harry opens his mouth and closes it again.
"And I get it, Harry, but that doesn't mean we should lock her in her room and keep her from any social life in the next two weeks. That has never proven itself effective!" Worse than Louis' calmness is when he actually does have a point after all. It drives Harry up the wall even more, making it unspeakably difficult to be fair in their fights. It always wakes the cruel need to hit Louis where it hurts — metaphorically speaking, of course, Harry hates real violence, not that Louis hasn't made him consider it a few times.
"Well, I spoke to her yesterday and I don't think she got drunk because she wanted to. At the wedding she already mentioned something along the lines of, I hope their child has parents who love each other. So maybe it's our fault after all," Harry suggests, voice falling more quiet now, hoping peoples nosy ears are out of reach now," she apologised, but when I asked her if she's okay, she only said she's fine and that it doesn't matter anyway."
"Yeah, I had that impression too," Louis agrees in what feels like the first time in years. His words leaving Harry genuinely speechless for a moment. "That's why I thought, maybe, you know— we have to do something together? As a family?"
Harry raises his eyebrows.
"Like a day trip?"
"Yeah, I spoke to my therapist about this and she suggested it could come from her missing a functional family, you know?" Hesitation does not suit Louis, neither does nervousness. He slowly plays with his fingers, before he wraps one hand around the cup, bringing it back to his lips, finishing his disgusting coffee. "Children at that age yearn for stability and I guess we haven't been able to provide that for her."
"My life is stable, Louis."
"That's not what I meant, Harry. God, this has nothing to do with you, okay? Neither has it anything to do with me. This is about our family, okay? Our children!" Again, Harry hates how right Louis is, how easy he makes it sound like. Righteous ass hole, he adds in his head as he's watching the alpha's blue eyes roam over Harry's face, probably trying to read him again.
"Okay," Harry agrees. He doesn't want to be the reason for their children's suffering after all. "You know my family owns a small cottage up in Scotland. Why don't we spend there a few days during spring break?" Louis is the one who's raising his eyebrows now, like he doesn't believe Harry just said that.
"I'll see if I can take a few days off."
"Remember it's about our family," Harry re-uses Louis' words against him, smugly firing them right into his face," so, find the time, yeah? Hasn't your therapist told you that?"
"I will," Louis mutters, sighing quietly, before he takes a quick scan through the room. Then his eyes circle back to Harry.
"Oh, I'm sure you will," Harry answers in a rather mockingly tone. He finishes his match, leaning back in his chair, looking back at Louis, like there's still some challenge left to overcome.
"Anything else you wanna add?" Harry shakes his head, arms crossed in front of his chest. "Alright, you want another cupcake or a ride home?"
"No, Tyler is picking me and Marlo up in ten minutes."
"Right." Louis nods, his scent slightly sharper. "Talk to you when I know more."
"Oh, I'm thrilled, Louis." Again, he said it like he's vomiting the name up and the best thing is, Louis looks at him like he knows. Nose wrinkled, expression frozen, a small wrinkle on his forehead and there's this bitterness in his scent.
"Whatever," he mutters, rising from his chair," bye."
Harry doesn't reply, doesn't even watch him leave. He simply looks out of the window, watching the tree in the distance again. It's not his fault he notices the black, familiar Audi passing his beloved tree.