Chapter 5
18 hours of uninterrupted sleep was better than any medicine that Louis could get his hands on. He woke up feeling completely rejuvenated, not even a leaking pull-up could bring him down. The prospect of 7 days with nothing planned was absolutely beautiful, he truly couldn’t think of anything he needed more at this time. The boys would start rehearsing for their next tour for about a month before setting out on their second world tour. It was a bit difficult to wrap his head around, the fact that they’d accomplished so much in such a short time. He’d felt unbearably guilty over the past few weeks as he’d wished to have a different career, thinking it’d make life easier. The intense scrutiny and constant attention were a bit too much for each member of the band at some point, and he was glad he would have a month or so to cool down. He’d come back ready to go, he knew it.
Finally having time to do whatever he wanted was a bit odd. He was used to being herded around, being told what to do by the various members of their management. There was the proper way for him to sit, talk, and answer questions. Everything was laid out for him in the public eye; but now he was in private, having a week off for the first time in almost a year. What he really wanted to do was lay on his couch and watch football for the next seven days, just like he told Harry he was going to do. But what he needed to do was dig deep into the internet to find out what he could do about his current situation.
Sure, he’d glanced at web pages about rejecting your classification before, and all the answers had been the same, especially surrounding his classification. There was no way to deny your biology, it was just like trying to grow five inches, you couldn’t unless you were supposed to. He typed ‘how to put off little submissive tendencies’ into the Google search bar. If there was no way for him to get rid of his classification and become that gad that everyone knew him as, then he would look for ways to postpone his classification from taking over every fiber of his being. He hit search, and perused the website titles that popped up. Most of them were unhelpful, articles sharing horror stories of people who’d attempted to reject their classifications or reasons why classifications, going into deep detail that Louis didn’t care about and he didn’t think a majority of the world did either. He skipped to the next page, annoyed at the lack of help that there seemed to be for his problem. He couldn’t possibly believe it for a second that people all found happiness with their classifications; that couldn’t be true, even though it seemed like it was.
His eyes stopped at a result on the top of the next page that read ‘How to Hide Your Classification’. He was sure it wasn’t a legitimate source, but he opened it up anyways. The post was from 4 years ago, a blog that existed only to house the single article. Louis read it, hoping that he would find the answers he was looking for:
If you’re reading this, I want to start this post by saying you’re not alone. The way that this world works, the way that our minds and bodies work… it’s hard to understand, especially when you are raised to believe you’re something different than what you are. Let me tell you my story, and hopefully it will help you. My name is Kailey; I’m 20 years old. I come from a long familial line of gads, and we all know that your lineage has no way of guaranteeing your classification, but it was pretty safe to say that I’d be classified as a general. Come my 18th birthday, to my whole family’s horror, I was classified as a pet. Thinking back on it, years later, I shouldn’t be surprised. I had always been obedient, listening to whoever was in a dominant position over me, be it my parents, coaches, or teachers. That’s besides the point, though; the problem was that I was raised to think that I was going to be a gad, that my life would depend on me being one. I was ridiculed by my family, made to think that my life would amount to nothing now that I was no longer on the path to a homey life as a gad. It was terrible. Thankfully, I moved away to university soon after I was classified, allowing me to get away from the constant torment I felt being surrounded by my family.
My first piece of advice that I want to give is that you should get away from your family. Classification shaming you will do nothing but make you feel terrible. Know that there is nothing you can do to change what you are. Science is concrete in this sense, it is woven within the strands of your DNA, and your fate was sealed before you were out of your mother’s womb. Getting away from my family gave me the chance to think for myself, to discover who I truly was. Of course, I hid it at first. I did everything I could to prevent pet traits from manifesting. I was like you, looking up websites that would give me ideas on how to get rid of my classification, or at least hide it as best as I could for as long as I could.
My second, and most important, piece of advice for you; you can’t change who you are, so stop fighting it. I apologize for leading you on this far, for making you think that I had solutions as for how to hide your classification. I wanted you to read and see that I was like you. I didn’t want to be me. I tried not to be me. But you have to embrace yourself, because the longer you push away your true self, the worse it will be when it comes out. And it will, inevitably. I won’t go into gruesome detail, but for your benefit I want you to know that my “coming out” so to speak was public and embarrassing.
All right! Enough with the negativity. There are things you can do to make this easier. I’m sure you’ve seen certain traits of whatever your classification it is coming out when you’re placed into certain situations. No one expects you to jump right into this. That’s what the Quench is for, believe it or not. I can imagine the looks that you all are giving the computer screen after reading that, wondering why on earth you would trust a random person with your deepest, darkest secret? Because they can help you. Think about it. You’re past the age of 18, you aren’t sure of what you’re doing. I’ve been there; I understand more than most anyone would. I’m not saying that you won’t be anxious, I’m not saying that it won’t be terrifying or awkward. But someone is there for you, on the other side of the computer, on the opposite end of your classification waiting for you. They are waiting to guide you, waiting to be guided, whatever you are, dominant or submissive. Trust the system. You have been raised to distrust it, to oppose everything that it tells you is true. The system is in place for a reason, and one day when you’re finally free and living your life to the fullest, you’ll think back to this. You’ll think back to this and smile, happy that you trusted the system.
I hope I helped you with this, at least a little. It’s scary, I know. It’s embarrassing, I know. It’ll get better. Just breathe and trust that you are you for a reason. Whatever your brain is telling you, whatever reason you’re doubting your classification, you’ll figure it out. I promise. Sending you all of my love, whoever you are, wherever you are.
Louis wasn’t aware of how heavily he was breathing until he finished the article and snapped out of a trance like state. He couldn’t help but believe the article was fate after all that he’d been going through. There was no reason for the entire world to know, there wasn’t even reason for his bandmates to know. He posted on the Quench, found a pseudo-daddy, and he got his fix. If he went a week or two and felt like he needed to go on the website again and find someone else, he would. That was that. He shut his computer resolutely, determined to spend at least the rest of the day without thinking about this. All he needed now was apple juice, takeaway, and his TV.
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The thing was, Harry and Nick wanted to find a little, they really did, but they were so ridiculously picky. They felt horrible each time their friends would come to them, telling them that they knew a little that would be the perfect addition to their little family. After asking a few questions, they would inevitably realize that the little would definitely not be perfect for them. It was a delicate situation, finding a little that would work for two daddies. One has to remember that, yes, they are daddies, but they are dominants as well. They had an inherent desire to control, an intense need to have situations go the way that they wanted them to, all of the time. Balancing the needs, tastes, and personalities of two dominants was difficult, but p-dom couples had a way of making it work a majority of the time. Nick and Harry often babysat for their friends' true children, and would happily babysit the few littles that they knew when their p-doms asked. They had never turned to the Quench, feeling as if they weren’t that desperate for a little. Yet.
Nick prided himself on being the levelheaded one in their relationship; he knew that Harry was a bit more excitable than him, always susceptible to getting his hopes up. And that’s exactly what Nick was trying to stop. Sure, Nick had his suspicions about Louis being a little, but he’d never let Harry know. He would be a good boyfriend and let Harry explain what he saw and what he made of his recent experiences with his bandmate, but he’d end the conversation by letting him down gently. It didn’t matter if Louis was a little or not, until he came to Harry himself to tell him, then it wasn't a concern of Harry's or his.
It wasn’t often, but there were people who fit into the category of multiple classifications, but in the end the government labeled them with one. And that’s the only one that mattered. There was no going in between them; one was given to them, and one would stick with them for the rest of their lives. Maybe Louis could have been a little, but he was ultimately classified as a gad. Then he wasn’t a little. Nick was almost 30 years old; he had friends of all classifications from all walks of life. Harry grew up in a small town, and was thrust into fame, never having the university experience to grow into who he was slowly, learning the intimacies of the classification system through the experiences of his schoolmates. It made it difficult for Harry to understand the seriousness of classifications, the way that no one could outrun or change what they truly were.
Would Nick be happy to have Louis as his little? Absolutely. Every time he saw the boy he had to restrain himself from cuddling him up in his arms, his shy nature practically begging for Nick to hide the boy away from the world. But as far as he knew, Louis wasn’t a little. It was fine to have those thoughts in private, but only for so long. He’d been with Harry for four years now, and it was time for them to have a serious conversation about their life. He wasn’t sure how Harry would react, but it was needed.
Harry was elated, finally having the chance to cook in a kitchen after having to eat out every night while on tour and doing promo. He couldn’t be happier to be sitting across from Nick at their own table, in their own house. Alone. Just the two of them. It was one thing to hear Nick’s voice over the phone and see his face on FaceTime, but it was another to be able to see his smile in person, to be able to hold his hand from across the table. Yes; the truth was out. Harry Styles was a complete and utter sap.
“So, Harry Styles, three days into your seven day break, how are you feeling? Ready to go back? Missing the high life?” Nick asked, joking around as if he was a journalist. He knew how much Harry hated the ridiculously cliché questions that interviewers asked.
“Not ready to leave you; never want to leave you,” Harry said, looking up at his boyfriend from under his lashes.
“I know, love. At least we’ve got a month of tour rehearsals before you’ve to go. We always make it work though, don’t we?”
Harry nodded, taking another bite of his salmon.
“I have something that I want to say; I’ve wanted to say it for a while, actually.” Nick said, nervous to breach such a sensitive topic.
Harry reached across the table, grabbing Nick’s hand and rubbing his thumb across the older man’s knuckles, waiting for him to speak.
“I’m getting older, yes, I know that my looks don’t place me a day over 18, but it’s the unfortunate truth. And I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you; you know that. I just… I know that something is missing. I know you feel the same way; it’s just the way that we’re programmed. And that’s why we need to figure this out. There is a little out there for us somewhere, even if we haven’t found them yet. But I think you and I can both admit that we haven’t been looking very hard in between the busyness of both of our jobs. But I think it’s time that we do so. I-I can’t tell if you’re angry or concentrating, love. Care to share what you’re thinking?” Nick asked, unsure of what Harry’s furrowed brow meant in this exact situation.
Harry took a moment before speaking, but that was something Nick was used to. He liked to have his thoughts completely figured out before speaking, Nick thought it was a product of his media training, but found it to be one of Harry’s many endearing traits.
“I agree, of course. I think that… I think I just have been waiting for something impossible to happen for the past few months. I’m sorry. I really am sorry for being so selfish. You don’t deserve that. I’ve been a shit boyfriend, not what you deserve.”
“That’s not what I was getting at, silly. Enough with the self-deprecating monologue. I just wanted to let you know where I stand and put it into words. It’s my fault too, you know. I’ve been having these thoughts, but haven’t put them into words. I just keep having visions of a little one running around our house; you know, we moved here with them in mind.”
“I know,” Harry said, a smile on his face, “I pass the play room and their bedroom and think about how we’re going to decorate them, the toys that are going to be in there. This little one is going to be the most spoiled little boy of all time.” They’d decided in the first year of their relationship that they both wanted a little boy, each of them relieved to hear that the other was on the same page as them. They weren’t sure what it was, but the idea of having a little boy to look up to them was all they’d ever dreamed of.
Nick let out a chuckle at that, standing up and pulling Harry up with him, melting into a kiss. “We can get married and have a little ring bearer of our own. It’ll be perfect.”
Harry grabbed Nick’s hand, leading him out of the dining room and up the stairs. All of the talk about a kid, their kid, turning him on more than he could ever explain. But he was lucky, because Nick understood and was undressing himself just as quickly as Harry was.
Later that night, after both men were sated, they began to discuss what they were looking for in a little. They agreed that the Quench was their last resort, but if they hadn’t found a little within six months, they’d resort to the website.
Harry started, “well… I guess there are a few big things for me. Age is definitely one of them. I want a little boy, one that still needs us to help him in all aspects of his life. Maybe two years old? Yeah. Two. And sweet as sugar, of course. I know that most parents want a firecracker of a little, and that’s okay, of course, but not me. Not us. I want an innocent little guy. Guess it makes me feel good to protect someone, you know?”
It always amazed Harry how open he felt he could be with Nick since the start of their relationship. He never felt embarrassed at voicing his feelings; he knew that Nick would listen and understand, and even if he didn’t agree, he would respect Harry’s feelings.
“That would be nice, wouldn’t it? A little guy whose diapers we could change, we can give him bubble baths… the way we could give him a bottle while sitting on a rocking chair. Sounds like something out of my wildest dreams. I hope we find him soon," Nick finished with a sigh.
Harry looked up at Nick from where he was leaned against his chest, letting out a small yawn. He bid his love goodnight before drifting off to sleep. He woke up what seemed like seconds later to Nick shaking him.
“What is it?” Harry asked, letting out a yawn.
“Your phone has rung twice in the past 30 seconds, it’s Alberto, figured it’s important.”
Just like clockwork, his phone started ringing again, Harry picked up before the first ring could even finish.
“Hello?” he asked, suddenly completely alert.
“Harry?” Alberto asked, voice frantic.
“What’s up? Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m calling. I texted Louis two days ago that I had to head back to the states for a family emergency, and he never replied. He just called me bawling, I couldn’t even understand what he was saying except for that ‘he needed me’ and ‘blood’. I wouldn’t call if I wasn’t worried.”
Harry sat up immediately, rushing to put clothes on while answering the guard, “Of course, Nick and I will be there within five minutes. I’ll bring the first aid kit we keep here just in case, I would bet good money Lou doesn’t have one.” All of Harry’s friends and family ridiculed him for talking slow and moving slow, constantly comparing him to a sloth. He sort of wished they could see him now, moving at the speed of light, grabbing his wallet and his keys before heading downstairs. All he needed to hear were the words Louis and blood. He remembered back at the bungalow during Xfactor when the boys went around and shared their biggest fears. Louis let out that his was blood, only to cut his chin shaving the hair that he didn't even have the next night. Niall had heard a thump in the bathroom, running in to see a passed out Louis, razor in his hand and blood running down his chin. Since then they did their best to keep Louis away from blood, knowing how deep his fear ran. Harry couldn’t even imagine how scared Louis was at the moment.
Nick was getting dressed after hearing Harry say that they were leaving, not questioning his boyfriend’s words.
“Thanks Harry, thank you. Please let me know if you need anything, I can get Paddy or Dale out there if need be.”
“Don’t worry about it, you know it's no problem.” After saying thank you once again, Alberto hung up.
Nick was out of the room already, running downstairs to grab the aforementioned first aid kit. Harry shouted that he was starting the car and to meet him there. He couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, thinking about what could’ve happened to Louis. He gripped Nick’s hand tightly as the older man drove him over, only speaking when instructing him as to the passcode on Louis’ house’s gate. He wasn’t sure what had happened to Louis, but he knew he’d find out soon.
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It was close to 3 am, but there was a Man U game going on in the states some eight hours behind them, so of course he’d stay up to watch it. He lit up when he remembered that Alberto had a service come and stock up his fridge, something he always did after hearing Louis complain about never having food when coming home. Dressed in only a t-shirt and pull-up, he walked into his kitchen ready to make a sandwich. He felt more relaxed than he had in weeks, three days into his break. His phone was thrown into a corner of his room, he had had Chinese for the past four meals, and no one was there to bother him. Life was picture perfect… maybe that was an overstatement. Life was as good as it could be while he was hiding his classification and ignoring everyone in his life who was trying to see him during his seven days of freedom.
He hummed happily as he peered into his fridge, taking out the items he wanted to put on his sandwich. He had to think about where the bread would be, delighted when he found a long loaf of his favorite crusty Italian bread. He grabbed the serrated bread knife from his drawer, set to cut the huge chunk of bread into a few pieces. As he was cutting the first piece of bread his hand started shaking and he sliced into his left palm that was holding the bread in place. He dropped the knife at the pain, letting out a loud “fuck”. He felt the blood before he saw it, feeling lightheaded at even the prospect of slightly bleeding. He looked at it long enough to see the blood gushing out of the wound. He screamed, bladder releasing enough to saturate his already wet pull-up and stream down his leg. He had officially gone through the pack that Alberto had given him with the use of the one he was wearing, and was currently waiting for his pants to finish drying in his laundry machine.
For any normal person the amount of blood that was coming out of his hand would have been seen as manageable, but Louis couldn’t stand it. He was sobbing frantically, cursing himself for throwing his cellphone in the midst of the mess that was his room upstairs. He spied the house phone that Alberto told him he installed “in case of emergencies” sitting in the corner of his kitchen counter. It took him three tries to dial Alberto, his good hand shaking so much at this point that it felt like it was going to fall off. When the guard picked up, he couldn’t get a coherent sentence out, only being able to cry and get random words out here and there.
The line went dead, Louis realizing Alberto hung up. He honestly hadn’t heard a word that the guard said to know whether or not he was coming. He hoped that meant that the man was on his way, and somewhere deep in the back of his mind he knew that Alberto wouldn’t leave him hanging. He dropped the phone before sliding to the floor, curling into a ball while leaving his left arm extended straight out, not wanting the smell of blood anywhere near him.
The longer it took, the harsher his cries got, his mind getting fuzzy. He couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t think at all. The only thing that crossed his mind was the thought of someone helping him, someone making sure that he was okay. He was sopping wet, bleeding, and exhausted at this point. So caught up in his own head, he didn’t hear his front door open, Harry knowing where he kept his key. He always reprimanded him for leaving it in such an obvious place, telling him that if someone got through his gate the first place they’d check would be under his doormat. Louis laughed it off, saying no one would get that far anyways.
Harry ran ahead of Nick, leaving the front door wide open so that his boyfriend could follow him in with the medical kit. His heart dropped when he heard gasping sobs that could only mean that Louis had been crying for a while. He moved quickly to the kitchen, freezing at the sight before him. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that he would see Louis on the ground, curled tightly around himself. The boy had his bleeding hand held out over the tile, it was shaking violently, spattering the small bit of blood that was coming out of it onto the tile.
“Lou,” Harry breathed, moving quickly over to his eldest bandmate, kneeling beside him. It was a testament to how upset Louis was that he didn’t even flinch when he heard a voice that wasn’t Alberto’s, leaning into the embrace that he was being pulled into.
Louis looked up with wild eyes, looking younger and more lost than Harry had ever seen. When he got home from LA, he went online to search suppressed classifications, wanting to see if there was any indication as to whether or not that was what Louis was hiding from him. He read that in some cases of littles who were hiding who they were away, extremely emotional or high stress situations could lead them into their headspace for the first time; Harry quickly figured out that was what Louis was going through. Even if he was completely off target, if Louis was a gad, he still went into daddy mode, Louis needed his help, and he was going to do everything he could for him.
“Bleeding, ‘m bleeding,” Louis choked out, burrowing his head into Harry’s side. Harry was concerned at Louis’ lack of reaction to him, unsure of whether or not the boy even realized who he was.
He let out a coo, piecing together a game plan in his head. “Babe, I’m going to pick you up and move you over to the couch, okay? I’ll watch out for your hand, but I want to get you off of the cold tile.”
Harry got onto his knees, bracing to pick his smaller bandmate up for this first time since they found out they were being put into a band together. At the same moment he felt something wet on his fingers as he was wrapping his hands under Louis’ knees, he saw that Louis wasn't wearing his usual jeans or sweats, but a soaked and leaking pull-up. He took it in stride, picking up the boy and focusing on cleaning his wound so that Louis would stop hyperventilating.
He heard footsteps behind him, looking behind him to see Nick carrying in the med kit. Harry was scared for how Louis would react when he saw his boyfriend, unsure of what his reaction would be. But that could be worried over later; he needed to get Louis to the couch and get him cleaned up.
Nick moved ahead of Harry, having the foresight to lay a folded blanket down so that Louis didn’t soak the couch. He gently sat Louis down, having to gently pry the Doncaster lad’s good hand off from where it was gripped tightly around his shoulders.
“Hey love, we need you to sit up straight, can you do that?” Nick asked, speaking for the first time. He was a bit anxious, not quite sure how Louis would react to him, or anyone, being there and seeing him in such a vulnerable state.
Louis’ mind was all over the place, he’d never felt so panicked and out of himself before. It was like… he wanted to do something, wanted to help himself, but he couldn’t. More than he ever had before, which was essentially every moment of the past two years, he longed for someone to take care of him. That’s why his cries were beginning to slow as he felt a warm body beside him, a soothing voice talking to him. He knew that he was sobbing, wet, and bleeding, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about it. Like he was a baby; the very infantile state that he was trying to outrun was taking control of him.
He became more coherent when he felt a stinging on his hurt hand, eyes that were previously squeezed shut widening quickly. His eyes landed below him on a kneeling Nick Grimshaw. Gad Louis, the character he’d been playing for the past three years of his life, would’ve laughed off his tears and told Nick to go home. But little Louis, the boy who was sitting on a couch crying over a small cut on his hand, took comfort in the help he was receiving.
“It’s okay, just a little sting to clean your boo boo, can’t have anything yucky getting in there, can we?” Nick said, speaking to Louis in the same soft voice he always reserved for him. Harry smiled from where he was sitting next to Louis, running his hands up and down the boy’s back.
Harry was so relieved that Alberto had called him instead of one of the other boys, or even one of the other guards. He obviously wasn’t sure what they would have made of the popstar's crying and soiled pull-up, but he also feared that they would have been angry over getting up in the middle of the night for such a miniscule wound. Being a d-dom, he guessed that he just had patience that extended far greater than that of most others. He truly couldn’t imagine ever invalidating Louis’ pain or reaction to his wound. And that’s why he loved Nick as much as he did, because he was treating Louis exactly the way he would if he was the one tending to his wound.
Louis let out a cry as Nick used antiseptic on his wound, “it h-hurts.”
Harry had absolutely no self-control, leaning in to kiss Louis’ clammy forehead. “I know Loulou, I know. It’ll be good as new in just a minute, okay?”
Louis let out a small noise, leaning himself closer to Harry in place of a verbal reply. Nick finished cleaning up the small amount of blood that was dried onto his palm before putting on a Band-Aid. He had always poked fun at Harry for insisting that they keep a medical kit in their house, as he was never sure when they’d need it. He was grateful for it, knowing that there was absolutely no chance that Louis had anything even remotely capable of cleaning and covering his wound anywhere in his house.
“Almost done!” Nick exclaimed, “You know what the last step in healing a boo boo is?”
Louis shook his head, looking down at Nick with wide, innocent eyes.
Nick’s stomach fluttered at the way that Louis was looking at him; it was all he had ever wanted in life, for a little to look to him for answers, for someone to need his help. He allowed himself to bask in the idea of Louis being little just for the night; he and Harry deserved that much, didn’t they?
He spared a look at Harry, both of them thinking the same exact thing. Simultaneously, Harry started kissing all over Louis’ right arm, while Nick pressed kisses on Louis’ injured palm, conscious of the injury. Louis let out a loud giggle at the men’s actions, not expecting the secret to healing to be kisses.
Louis felt immeasurably better after the kisses, shocked that the man was right about kisses helping him heal. He felt weird. He consciously knew that he was giving into his nature, that he was revealing his most private secret to Nick and Harry, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it. Their gentle tones and soft touches were comforting; he couldn’t get enough of the way they were treating him.
Louis shifted, trying to get comfortable in his cold and wet pull-up. Harry and Nick both noticed this, Nick standing up and heading upstairs to find another one to change Louis into. He checked the bathroom connected to Louis’ bedroom, figuring that would be the most likely place for them to be. What he found was an empty package of pull-ups sitting on his counter next to a pack of baby wipes. Nick sighed; it could never be easy, could it?
He headed back downstairs, unable to help the grin on his face when he saw Louis smiling softly at whatever Harry was whispering in his ear, the two of them sat closely together. He seemed to be more with it now, a soft blush covering his face, but still reacting positively to Harry’s actions. Nick cleared his throat, causing the two on the couch to look over at him. The smile on Louis’ face immediately went away, his face going pale. He all but jumped onto Harry’s lap, burrowing himself into his shirt. Nick guessed it was a good sign that he stayed on the couch instead of running upstairs away from him, but it still stung nonetheless. He knew that Louis wasn’t comfortable with him; he didn’t know Nick well enough to be. It was understandable.
Nick pretended that nothing had happened, continuing on with what he was going to ask, “Louis? Do you have any more pull-ups or nappies anywhere, love?”
Louis shook his head into Harry’s chest, face burning with mortification. His head was still fuzzy, feeling emotions more than coherent, adult thought.
Harry pulled himself away from Louis, tipping the boy’s chin up so that he would have to look in his eyes. “Can you give us an answer, please?” Harry wanted Louis out of the wet material as soon as possible, worried the boy would get a rash.
“No,” Louis whispered, “they’re all gone. I kinda, um, keep having accidents and the pull-ups are drippy.” Louis surprised himself with how honest he was; but he trusted Harry. He always showed Louis how much he cared for him, and Louis couldn’t forget it. He didn’t want Nick to see him like this, though. His mind raced with all of the mean things that he’d heard Nick say about people before, even if it was just a joke. This wasn’t a joke to him; this was something he had tried to keep hidden, he didn’t want people to know about it in the first place, let alone ridicule him for it.
“That’s okay love, thank you for telling me. You’re being a very brave boy, Louis.” Louis blushed at the praise, pushing his face back into Harry’s chest.
“I’m going to go to the store, I’ll be right back, okay?” Harry nodded, waving Nick off.
Nick hurried out to his car, wanting to get back as quickly as possible to be with the boys. He drove to the 24 hour Tesco nearest Louis' house, knowing that it would be the only place open that had a decent aisle for each classification. Thankfully it was quite empty, no one around to drag him into conversation about this new album or that segment from last week’s show. It was the weekend, his only time off, and he liked to keep it that way. He headed back to the l-sub aisle, not allowing himself to gawk over the pacifiers, bottles, and toys that he dreamed of Louis playing with. There was a time and place, he reminded himself. He analyzed the rows of diapers and pull-ups, wondering what would be best to get Louis. He ended up grabbing a pack of diapers with Marvel characters on them, knowing that Louis would undoubtedly be grumpy and embarrassed over him buying diapers, but at least like the design Nick picked out. Nick knew that Louis’ problem of “drippy pull-ups” came from his body regressing further and further. He didn’t allow himself to be delighted at the idea of Louis regressing to the point of incontinence in the way that the perfect little boy that he and Harry had just talked about that night at dinner would. He grabbed more wipes and powder, not wanting Louis to run out if him and Harry left. When him and Harry left, he corrected himself. Louis was not theirs, and putting a claim on him was unfair, both to the couple and Louis.
He braced himself for the backlash that was going to occur when he came back, Louis realizing that the two men would be seeing him naked. He approached the task as lightheartedly as possible when he was walking in, wanting to prevent a fit if possible.
“Who’s ready to get changed and head to bed?” Nick asked.
Louis was still situated on Harry’s lap, looking as if he was going to fall asleep any second, eyes heavy. “Just give me the bag, I can do it m’self.” Louis placed a grabby hand out, waiting for Nick to hand him the bag.
Nick sighed, thinking of the best way to phrase what he had to say next. “Darling, as you explained earlier, your pull-ups were drippy, they weren’t working for you. And that’s okay, of course. They’re meant to be used for accidents, though, not for going to the bathroom.”
Louis sat up, his face outraged, “What are you on about? That’s what I did- I had an accident in them!”
Harry chimed in; he always had the gift of putting things delicately. “I know, love, what Nick is trying to say is that pull-ups don’t seem to be enough protection. It’s not a bad thing, everyone is a bit different.” Nick was grateful for the creepy way that he and Harry had of finishing each other's thoughts, never having to quite communicate their point before the other understood what they wanted to say.
“What? You think I need diapers or something? I’m not a baby!”
Nick didn’t warrant Louis’ accusations with a reply, barreling ahead with his dialogue, “We want you to be able to wake up dry, I bet it’s yucky and frustrating having an accident and not having your pull-up hold it all in. No one will know you’re wearing a diaper, promise.”
“Well you two know! That’s embarrassing!”
“And we’re the only two that will know, unless you want someone to know, okay? You have to remember we’re daddies, Lou, even if we aren’t your daddies. We want what’s best for you. Can you trust us? Please?” Harry asked, staring at Louis with a small smile. He knew that he had won when Louis let out a huge sigh.
“Fine,” Louis surrendered, “But only Harry can come upstairs to help me. If he wants. You don’t have to, I just- I don’t know how to do it. But I can figure it out. Sorry, sorry, that was presumpt-“
Harry interrupted Louis’ backpedaling, “Of course, Lou, are you ready to head up?”
He stood up, offering Louis his hand. Louis grabbed it, tangling their fingers together. He blushed a deep red when he looked down at the sagging pull-up, ready to get it off. His breathing grew heavier as they reached his room, understanding what was going to happen and knowing it would take the cake of being the most embarrassing scenario of his entire life. Harry pulled him to into the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom, grabbing a towel from the linen closet before taking it to his room and laying it out on the carpet.
“You can lay down, Lou,” Harry said, patting the towel. Louis teared up, letting out a little whimper at the prospect of his bandmate having to put a diaper on him. He was so helpless, such a sad excuse for a 21 year old.
Harry pulled him close, whispering over and over again that it was okay, that he was there for him, and that no one would know. Louis mustered up the courage to lay down, trying and failing to suppress his smile when Harry told him he was doing a great job and that he was proud of him.
Harry talked to him, distracting him from the moment he ripped his pull-up off, to the time he took to use baby wipes on his legs and genitals, and when he finally put him in a diaper and powdered him up. Louis was embarrassed at the gasp he let out when he saw Iron Man on the front of his diaper, surprised that they made things for babies that looked so cool. Harry pretended he didn’t notice, making sure to remember to commend Nick on his choice of diapers when they were alone later that night.
Although he was absolutely, 100% mortified, his first diaper change was over. He crawled into his bed like Harry had instructed him to while the younger lad cleaned up the changing space, letting out a yawn. Harry couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Louis in a t-shirt and diaper, eyes slowly opening and closing as he lay in his bed that looked far too big for him.
“Ready for bed, love?” Harry asked, coming to sit next to him. He pulled the sheets and duvet over Louis, tucking the boy in nice and tight.
Louis nodded, too tired to warrant Harry with an answer. For now, he let himself bask in the comfort of being tucked in; tomorrow morning would be a completely different story, but he’d let himself think about everything that had occurred then.
“Night night Loulou. I’ll see you in the morning- sweet dreams,” Harry allowed himself the pleasure of kissing Louis on the forehead, thinking he’d finally gone too far when Louis let out a gasp.
“Where’s Nick? Did he leave?” Louis asked, a shade too concerned for it to be considered a nonchalant question.
“No, he’s downstairs, I’ll call him up to say goodnight, love, I know he would love to.” Harry got up and quietly called for Nick, the man- who felt a bit neglected after being left out of the diaper change, although he understood Louis’ perspective, of course- made his way upstairs.
He bid Louis goodnight, rubbing his cheek softly, before both men exited the room. They made sure that they were in the guest room with the door shut before even uttering a word. All that they could think was that, yes, Louis is a little. They were right. Louis had been hiding that he was a little for over three years, and they had absolutely no idea why. Louis was so clearly torn between asking for the love that he so needed and shoving every single person who was close to him away. They weren’t sure what Louis would say when they woke up the next morning, but they were bracing themselves for backlash. Harry drifted off to sleep with his recurring dream of Nick, Louis, and himself living together as the perfect little family playing in his head- and for once, Harry thought happily, it didn’t seem that farfetched.