"Do I have to?" Harry asks for about the thousandth time, and Louis thinks he could strangle someone with the seatbelt. Whether it be himself or Harry, he hasn't chosen yet.
"No, Harold," Louis says, gripping the steering wheel. "You don't have to get them out, but your dentist thinks it's a good idea."
Harry whines, sinking further into his seat. "I don't wanna."
"I got mine out when I was fifteen, love."
"Drive slower." Harry demands.
"No, I'm going the speed limit. I'm not driving slower so we miss our appointment, my God, H. It's not that bad."
"It's not that bad, says Louis Tomlinson, man who fears absolutely nothing. You've had surgical procedures done before, I haven't!"
"Christ, Hazza, they're taking your teeth not your fucking heart! Everything's fine."
"Can you walk me through how they do it again?"
"They'll put you under and you'll probably sleep right through the whole thing. A little while after you'll wake up, and I'll be sitting right there. You'll probably be a little loopy, but there's nothing you could say or do that would surprise me, so. You won't feel anything during. After you'll be bleeding, you'll have to keep the gauze in. They'll give you ice to put on your cheeks, probably. Then that's it. I take you home and you rest."
Harry exhales, not replying.
Inside, they take Harry in right away. He grabs Louis' hand and prays for some kind of miracle to happen so that he doesn't have to go through this. But then he's sitting in a chair listening to a man talk on and on about what he's going to do. Louis is still sitting beside him, squeezing Harry's hand.
"As soon as we put him under I'm going to have to ask you to leave, alright?"
Louis nods. "I'll be here when you wake up, darling. You'll be fine."
Waiting is boring. Louis doesn't like waiting. For anything. Except maybe orgasms, he could wait for an orgasm. Sometimes waiting makes it worth it. But other than in bed, Louis hates waiting. He doesn't like waiting to open his presents on Christmas, doesn't like waiting around for work to pick up and become busy so he can fucking do something. He can't wait for simple, everyday things, how the hell is he supposed to wait for his fiancé to come out of getting his wisdom teeth removed?
He's played approximately seven hundred rounds of Candy Crush by the time a nurse comes out and asks for Louis to follow. "Everything went fine, as you know we put him under general anesthetic, so it'll be a little while before he wakes up. But I heard you promise that you'd be there, so. When he wakes up make sure he doesn't touch anything, he'll be loopy. And the gauze should really stay in his mouth, but it's not that big of a deal if it doesn't. Just more blood."
Louis is only half processing what the nurse is saying to him, but he nods along anyways.
It's only another ten minutes before Harry slowly wakes up. The worst part? Louis was down the hall getting a bottle of soda from the vending machine. He prays to God Harry doesn't remember Louis promising that he'd be there.
"He's awake, you know," the nurse coming out of the room says as Louis is coming back.
Louis doesn't really give her a chance to fully answer, he's already heading into the room. Harry is attempting to stand up, but Louis stops him. "Hi, love."
"Who are you?" Harry asks, eyes wide.
"Why are you in my room? Why am I in my room? Wait, this isn't even my room!" Harry exclaims, looking around frantically. "Why am I here? Where even am I? Do you work for the government?" Harry drops his voice to a whisper, "am I part of a secret government project?"
Louis is laughing so hard there's tears in his eyes. He's so hopelessly endeared. "No, baby, I'm not from the government. You just got your wisdom teeth out, doesn't your mouth feel funny?" Louis asks as he pulls out his phone to videotape this. It's an opportunity that can't be passed up.
Harry touches a hand to his lip. "How come you keep calling me baby?"
"Because you're my baby."
"I'm not a baby. And I'm not your baby, I still think you're part of some top secret section of the government!"
"You are my baby. We're getting married, Harry."
Harry gasps. "You mean... How long have we been together?"
"Nearly five years."
"How old am I? How old are you?"
"You're twenty one, almost twenty two. I'm turning twenty four this month."
"So when we met I was..." Harry trails off, clearly trying to do the math in his head until Louis fills in sixteen for him. He takes special note of Harry's speech, and how it's different than it usually is. Sometimes it seems faster, other times slower and more drawn out. "Sixteen." Harry repeats, nodding.
"I proposed to you back in July."
"Did you take me to where you do your government work? I'd like that very much."
"Harry, I don't work for the government. I'm a journalist, you're a photographer. I don't secretly work for the government, I promise you."
"Are you sure you're my fiance, though? I'm pretty sure that's impossible," Harry declares. Louis quirks an eyebrow and goes to say something, but Harry continues talking. "You're too pretty for me. Have you seen yourself? You've got the perfect hair and jaw and cheekbones and your eyes, oh my god. How did I ever get you? And your arse is to die for. Can I touch it?" Here's an example of Harry's faster, more worked up speech, Louis notes.
"You want to touch my ass?"
"Um, later, yeah?" Louis says, because the nurse is back with a slip of paper. "We're good to go?"
She nods and hands Louis the paper. "That's the prescription for his pain medication. You can go pick those up, they should be ready."
"This is my fiancé," Harry says, staring at the nurse with wide eyes. "Can you believe it?"
"He is quite the looker, I'll admit it," the nurse smiles at Harry, then Louis. "This will come in handy," she hands Louis some more gauze. "And I'll be right back with a wheelchair."
"What is it?" Harry asks, grabbing Louis' hand. He starts giggling right away, making Louis furrow his eyebrows. Between giggles, Harry asks, "How come you flattened out marshmallows?"
"Harry, these look nothing like marshmallows."
"Flat ones." Harry argues. Slow speech, Louis realizes.
"Alright, love. If you say. Let's get you up," Louis shoves the gauze in his pocket and folding the prescription up. He helps Harry up, who is a little wobbly.
He stumbles into Louis, giggling out an oops. Louis smiles at him. "Let's get out of here. Have a seat, babe."
"I'm not an old man."
"I know you are not an old man. Sit down. You can't walk."
"Would you like me to wheel him out?" the nurse offers.
"No, I've got him. Thank you."
Louis eventually gets Harry buckled in the passenger seat. "Do not touch anything, Harold. I swear. I have to bring this chair back but I'll be right back. Thirty seconds."
"How will you know if I touch anything? You won't be here," Harry sings, clearly testing Louis' patience.
"Maybe I do work for the government and they've got cameras in my car," Louis says thoughtfully.
Harry immediately drops his hands to his lap, and that's how Louis finds him when he comes back. "Thank you for not touching anything, Haz." Louis says as he starts the car.
Harry just hums. He's quiet for a while. Then, "If we're getting married, does that mean... do we have... sex?" his voice drops to barely a whisper, like saying the word is a sin.
Louis lets out a laugh. "Yes, we do."
"What's it like?"
"It's good, love."
"Who tops?" Harry asks, wiggling his bum against the car seat.
"The government gave you a really nice car," Harry says, running his fingers along the dashboard.
Louis rolls his eyes. "Does your mouth feel funny?" Louis asks, braking as they come up on a red light. He grabs his phone and turns on the video camera again.
Harry touches his fingertips to his lips. "I think my lips are gone!" Harry gasps, horrified. He looks at Louis, eyes welling up with tears. "I don't want to be a part of your stupid, sketchy projects!"
"Harry, baby," Louis leans forward and flips down the visor so Harry can see himself in the mirror. "Your lips are still there, see?"
"Oh my god." Harry mutters.
Louis presses on the gas again. "What is it?"
"Is this my tongue?" he asks, prodding at a piece of bloody gauze with what is obviously his tongue. "Louis, they took my tongue out!" he pulls the gauze out.
"Harold, they did not take your tongue out. Put that gauze back in before you leave blood all over my car."
"I don't trust you! You're a part of some weird government agency. What kids of tests did you run? I don't wanna be part of your project."
"I don't work for the government, they didn't run any tests. They took out your fucking wisdom teeth."
Harry gasps at Louis' sudden change in tone. Then he looks behind them. "The light you went through was yellow."
"I can go through yellow lights, H."
"No you can't. Yellow means slow down, you're supposed to get ready to stop. You're not being safe. I need to get out." he goes to open his door, and then Louis really shouts his name.
Harry smacks a hand over his mouth. "You're mean. I didn't fucking ask for this. Oh. Oh no. I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what? I'm the one who yelled at you, Harry."
"You're allowed to curse, baby."
"You seem really nice. Usually people who work for the government are mean."
"Just two seconds ago – okay. Never mind."
"Aw, look at that little girl!" Harry cries, pointing out the window at a mother and her daughter walking down the sidewalk. "She's so cute, Lou, we have to say hi!"
"We can't do that, babe."
"Can we have kids?"
If Louis wasn't extremely experienced with both Harry and driving, he would have driven right off the road. But, fortunately, Louis is a great driver and great with Harry, so he's able to control himself and the vehicle. "Um, we've discussed it," Louis says slowly. "A few times, actually."
"Have we stopped using condoms? So you can get me pregnant?"
Louis bursts out laughing. "You can't get pregnant, Harry. Later we'll have to call Zayn to tell him how you're doing."
For the second time, Harry looks over at Louis with tears in his eyes. "I miss Zayn. Can we see him? I wanna see Zayn, Louis."
"Don't cry, Harry," Louis says quickly. "Shit, Haz. Yeah, we'll get to see Zayn soon, love. I promise."
Harry perks up immediately, and goes back to rambling about babies as Louis pulls into the Pharmacy parking lot and parks. "Harry, okay. I get it." Louis says finally.
Harry frowns, going to open his door before Louis has even stopped the car. "Hey, hey," Louis says, reaching out and grabbing Harry's arm. "You're going to stay here. I need to go grab your prescription, and I'll be right back. If you need me," he grabs Harry's phone from the cup holder and dials his own number in. "You press that green button and it'll call me."
"I know how a phone works," Harry rolls his eyes.
"Just wanna make sure, kitten."
As soon as Louis is inside, his phone rings. "Dammit, Harry," he mutters. He still immediately answers the call. "What is it, love?"
"I miss you."
"I've been gone for two seconds." Louis rolls his eyes, standing behind the person in line.
"I still miss you. When are you coming back? Is this part of the governmental experiment? What are the experiments for? Am I special?"
"What do you mean by special, baby?"
"Like... Superpowers. Or maybe I'm an alien! The government hides those from us. Or am I a mermaid? They're hiding those too, aren't they? Louis, you know. You're a secret-special-government guy."
"Harry, I don't work for the government," the guy in front of Louis looks over his shoulder at him like he's insane. "I've told you seven hundred times since I picked you up."
"You know, that's exactly what someone who is working with the government would say."
Louis rolls his eyes and steps up to the counter. "Hang on, love."
The transaction goes quickly, Harry babbling about the government 'hiding aliens' and how he doesn't fully believe that Louis doesn't work for the government. If Louis worked some big fancy government job he wouldn't be living in a tiny London town in a one bed, one bath. "I'm coming back out now, Harry. Press the red button."
Three deep beeps signals the phone call being ended. Louis pockets his phone as he comes up on the car. He can literally hear the radio blaring Adele's song Hello from inside the car. As soon as he opens his door, Harry clamps his mouth shut. He's got a wad of bloody gauze in his hand, clearly having taken it out in order to make singing easier.
"It's easier when I take the tongue out." Harry says softly.
"Put it in my hand, Harry." Louis sighs.
"My tongue!? You can't take my tongue. You have to take me back to the government facility so they can put it back in!"
"Put the gauze in my hand." If you asked Louis while he was driving Harry to his appointment this morning, he wouldn't have guessed he'd end up holding his fiancé's bloody gauze in his palm. If it were Liam or Niall or Zayn, or even his own sisters, Louis would probably throw a hissy fit for having to hold such a disgusting thing. But this is Harry, love of his life, soulmate, baby, all good things, center of his universe Harry. Louis would sacrifice anything for Harry. And they've probably done grosser things for the books, so.
Ashamed, Harry drops the gauze into the palm of Louis' hand. Louis turns the radio off and gets back out of the car to put the gauze in a nearby garbage can. He comes back to Harry touching his lips and staring at them in the mirror. "Your tongue is still there," Louis says, closing his door. "Open your mouth."
Harry does. "Look," Louis leans over and touches a finger to Harry's tongue. "That's your tongue. And I have one too," he sticks his own tongue out. "Yours is still there, you're just numb. Look at me now," he says softly, fishing another wad of gauze from his pocket. "We have to keep these in, dentist says so. When we get home I'll get you some ice to help the swelling go down, okay? Open your mouth again."
Harry's mouth falls open again, letting Louis situate the gauze properly. "Okay?" Louis asks, running his thumb over Harry's cheekbone.
"Will you tell me about the mermaids?" Harry whispers.
"For christ's sake. I'm not a government worker. I'm Louis Tomlinson. I am a journalist. When we get home I'll take you to my office, which has also become your office as you book photography gigs and need places to hang up your pretty pictures. I have five sisters, Lottie, Fizzy, Daisy, Phoebe and Doris. Doris is two, and she has a twin. His name is Ernest. You love babies, so much. We met when you were sixteen and I was eighteen at an art gallery. I was doing a writing piece for school and you were with your mum, and you wanted to see the pictures. I proposed to you in July, I took you back to the very same art gallery where we met. I do not work for the government, Harry. If I worked for the government we wouldn't be here."
Harry stares at Louis intently, who can only glance back as he drives down the road. "Okay." he says finally. "I think I believe you."
Louis will take it. At home, he parks the car and hurries around to Harry's side to help him out. "Be careful, Haz, there's ice all over the driveway."
"Maybe we should melt it. Hair dryers work."
"I'm not so sure, lovely."
Harry manages end up safely on the couch, which is a miracle. He gasps when he sees the cat wander into the room. "Is that another pro—what is that?" he went to bring up the government thing, but quickly stops himself.
"It's a cat, dip shit. Come on, you've got to be pretending now. There's no way you're this loopy." Louis mutters, taking an ice pack from the freezer. "Let's prop your head up."
Louis props Harry's head up with a few pillows and hands him the ice. "I think maybe you'll sleep now, yeah?"
Harry nods. "Very sleepy."
"You did good, love. When you wake up you probably won't remember any of this at all."
"You'll still be here, right?"
Louis nods. "Yes, I will."
As soon as Harry falls asleep, Louis calls Anne to tell her how he's doing. "Extremely loopy. Extremely. He wholeheartedly believes I work for the government and that he was a part of some experiment. Had to convince him they didn't take out his tongue."
Anne laughs. "It went well, though?"
"No complications. The kid just doesn't have any wisdom teeth."
"Thank you for taking care of him, Louis."
"Of course," Louis looks at Harry, sprawled out on the couch. "Always."
"Shoot me a text when he wakes up, yeah?"
When the call ends Louis turns on the TV and searches desperately for something to watch, finally settling on Friends reruns. He grabs his laptop and continued working on a piece he'd started.
Harry wakes up two hours later. Friends reruns changed into some stupid movie, Louis ordered and consumed Chinese takeout and finished the piece.
"Louis," Harry says slowly.
"Oh, good morning." Louis mutes the TV. He gets up and moves to the couch, lifting Harry's legs and rubbing absently at the soles of his feet. "How're you feeling?"
"The ice pack melted," Harry says, throwing it onto the table. "And... ew, oh my god. What's this. Why is this here."
Hes referring to a wad of gauze. Louis laughs. "It's the gauze. Open your mouth for me," Louis demands, and Harry obeys. "I just wanted to see if you were still bleeding. Doesn't look like it."
"My jaw hurts," Harry whines, rubbing his jaw. "Louis."
Louis just smiles at him, fond and endeared and just all too in love.
"Stop looking at me like that!" Harry cries, throwing one of his pillows at Louis. "My jaw hurts and you haven't even explained to me what bloody happened!"
"You got your wisdom teeth out," Louis says finally, still smiling. "And it was the funniest fucking thing I've ever witnessed. Towards the end you had to be just fucking with me, though. You didn't realise that Dusty was Dusty, a cat."
"Did I say anything embarrassing?"
"You accused me of being some kind of government agent. You thought the gauze was your tongue and accused the government of taking it out. You had a very passionate singalong to Hello while I was in the pharmacy. Asked me if we could have babies. Asked if we stopped using condoms so that I could knock you up. I got most of it on video, don't worry."
Harry groans, palming his face. "I hate my life. Why did we decide I had to do this?"
"Because we didn't have a choice. I'll get you your pain meds. We're not really supposed to do heat until like the second or third day, ice should be used to reduce swelling."
Harry whimpers. "Okay."
Louis moves Harry's feet off of him and gets up, taking the ice pack from the table to put it back in the freezer. "Your mother called."
"You talked to my mum?"
"I talk to her all the time, Harold."
"No you don't," Harry rolls his eyes.
"Okay, right, I don't," Louis admits, taking out another ice pack and putting the old one back in. "She was worried about you."
"You told me this procedure was nothing and that there was nothing to be worried about."
"Well I can't control if your mum worries, Hazza." Louis rolls his eyes and sits back down on the couch. "Keep this on your cheek to help with the swelling."
A few minutes of silence pass. Louis would have said something, but instead stares at Harry. Bitten lips and swollen cheeks make for an all-too-adorable appearance. Louis shouldn't find it so endearing. "Louis," Harry says suddenly. "Please stop staring at me."
"No I don't."
"You've been cute all afternoon and I've been fucking dying," Louis says. His phone dings with a text, from Zayn. "Zayn wants to know how you are. What should I tell him?"
"Tell him I'm awful."
"Good now, loopy before. While he was loopy he cried because he wanted to see you." Louis says as he types.
Harry gasps. "Tell me I didn't do that."
"Oh, you did. Don't worry, nobody else has to know what you did."
Louis smiles at him. "I'm proud of you."
"Love you." Harry whispers.
"Love you too," Louis replies, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to Harry's lips. "I need to get back to my governmental work now."
Harry kicks him away. "You're an asshole," he laughs. "Did they put my tongue back in?" he asks jokingly.
"I dunno maybe we should test it out."
"You're not supposed to have relations with your projects."
Louis bursts out laughing. "God, you're such an idiot. I love it. Love you."
"You're the idiot. So come here and kiss me you fool."