mature content (It's not too explicit though)

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"Hello?"

"Liz, it's me."

"Oh hey, long time no spea-"

"Are you at work?" Harry asked, cutting her off.

"No, it's my day of-"

"Can you come ove-"

"Haz!" She was now the one to cut him off sharply. He could imagine her glaring at her phone because of her brother's antics. "Don't act so flipping annoying! If you want me to talk -let me talk!"

"I'm sorry.." He apologized half-heartedly. "It's just need you to come over. It's about Ollie."

Hearing the seriousness in his voice, she quickly answered. "I'm on my way, but be warned. I'm taking Bella with me."

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45 minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Lizzy walked in with Bella trailing behind her as soon as Harry opened the door. "You could've told me you were at Moira's place, you doofus." She scolded, clearly irritated. "Would've prevented us from waiting at your door for 5 minutes."

"Doofus!" Bella repeated her mother, giggling as she excitedly reached up for her uncle. In return, Harry picked her up and threw the little girl over his shoulder. She shrieked, her short legs kicking. "Don't tickle me, uncle Haz!"

Not listening to her weak pleads, he did just that, making her mouth splutter with high-pitched giggles. Turning to his impatient sister, he set Bella back on her feet and shrugged. "Sorry, I thought you knew."

"You thought I knew?" She snorted. "I'm not even gonna answer that."

Strutting into the livingroom like she owned the place, she inspected the room. "Now where is that girlfriend of yours?"

Harry's stomach dropped. He looked like he'd been slapped. Since his meeting with Dr. Patel, things hadn't been the same between him and Moira. At first, he stressed and thought she knew about what he'd discovered. But after she'd dropped no hints whatsoever, he forgot about that.

It wasn't like they were awkward around each other, but they hadn't been kissing much. Just little pecks every now and then. He still slept next to her at night, so he didn't have much reason to complain. Nonetheless, something felt... off. Maybe he was what's off?

"She's not my-"

"I'm here!"

Moira came parading down the stairs with Ollie in the snuggle hold. She was dressed in an orange t-shirt that allowed onlookers to see an inch of her stomach; it wasn't flat but had just the right amount of meat to it, which was impressive for someone who'd given birth a few months ago. Over the t-shirt, she wore a burgundy hunting jacket. Underneath, jeans that had two different colored trouser legs -that looked oddly stylish. Her feet were clad in black, high heeled Chelsea boots and a grey beanie adorned her head. Both her and Ollie's bag were slung over one shoulder each. She looked simple, but to Harry- she was hands down the most breathtaking person he'd ever seen.

Ollie, however, was the pinnacle of cute: dressed in a soft-grey onesie, a beige jacket, tiny black converse and a black Batman beanie. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd say Oliver was one of those catalogue fashion kids. His level of adorable made him want to kiss his son all over his chubby face.

What surprised him most, and rendered him a little breathless, was the fact Moira hadn't corrected Lizzy from calling her his girlfriend. He decided not to comment on the fact, even though it affected him. Wordlessly, he lifted Ollie from her grip so that she could properly greet his sister. She shot him a quick smile, mouthing 'thanks'.

Lizzy lunged her body at Moira, throwing her arms around her neck to hug her tightly. Moira's entire body stiffened at her sudden movement. Before she could react, Lizzy pulled away. "Gosh, I missed you!"

"Missed you too." She mumbled, suddenly feeling shy. Not used to the concept of someone other than her mother missing her.

"Good heavens, we have so much to talk about!" She gushed, looking down at Moira's attire. "Wait, are you going somewhere?"

Her eyes glanced sideways to look at her son in Harry's arms. "Oh, yeah. I'm taking Ollie to this play for kids, apparently it will benefit the development of his brain."

"Interesting." Sarcasm dripped from Lizzy's voice.

"That's what I thought." Moira didn't seem to catch on to the sarcasm.

"Hey, I have to talk to my brother for a bit. You know, the usual sibling stuff. Would you mind taking Bella with you as well?"

"Sure, fine by me." Moira replied, unable to stop herself from smiling nervously. Handling two kids wasn't a big deal. But Ollie and Bella were a whole other story. It had been proven by many other moms, that cheeky little munchkins were a lot harder to control.

As if to prove her point, Ollie let out an overjoyed squeal and started pulling on Harry's mess of thick curls. Moira was quick to peel his tiny hands from his hair, giggling slightly as she did.

"That's not funny." Harry groaned.

"Sure."

He shot her another jokingly-annoyed glance before crouching down to the level of his niece, asking "Bells, would you like to go to the play with Moira and Ollie?"

As Moira put her son in his pram, Bella's eyes were glued to the little boy; completely mesmerized by how small he was. She couldn't understand why he only had two teeth! She felt flabbergasted, never having seen such a tiny human with eyes that looked a lot like her uncle's. Without taking her stare off of Ollie, she nodded.

Within 10 minutes, the three of them were on their way. Heading off to the nearby theatre by foot -or at least Moira and Bella were.

"So," Lizzy took a seat of the couch, gesturing for her brother to sit down as well. "Why did you want to talk to me?"

"I met up with Dr. Patel a few weeks ago."

Lizzy was the only one beside Harraël himself who knew about him being a sperm donor. He'd helped her cope with her own pregnancy when she was only 19 years old, so he figured he could trust his sister with the information and talk to her every now and then. His bandmates, management and mother were completely unaware of the fact he wanted to be a dad in the first place. He liked it that way though: less of a hassle.

She looked irritated for a moment. "And you only tell me this now!?"

"Gee, I'm sorry. I was too busy trying to figure out how the fúck I'm going to tell Moira that Ollie is also my son."

Lizzy's mouth fell wide open, her brain having trouble trying to comprehend that her big brother was a daddy now. Which made her an aunt. "Aw, Harraël!" She gushed, feeling tears well up as she wrapped her arms around his torso for a hug.

"Hah!" She suddenly exclaimed, detaching herself from the hug, her tears long forgotten. "I knew it! I knew he looked like you!"

The evil glint in her eye told Harry she was never going to let him forget about this. But then again, would he really have it any other way? She wasn't only his sister, she was also his best friend and even though she could be annoying at times; he loved her beyond words.

"That reminds me, she called me a few weeks ago to ask me if I knew why you were home a month early."

"Why didn't she just ask me?" Harry frowned, his male ego feeling slightly tattered.

"I don't know," She shrugged, "you were avoiding the subject."

"Hmm, that sounds like me."

"100% sound like you."

"But.." He trailed off, waving his hands impatiently. Fed up, he huffed, "But what did you tell her?"

Lizzy couldn't help but smile at her brother's behaviour. He was totally and irrevocably in love with Moira, she could tell the blush that appeared on his cheeks every time he or someone else mentioned her name. "I told her you were missing her and Ollie."

"And she believed you?"

"Apparently. Anyway, that's not was is important right now." She said quickly. "How are you planning on telling her?"

Harry began fumbling with his hands, gritting his teeth in frustration. "I don't know, that's what I've been trying to figure out."

Both of them kept quiet for a few seconds.

"Wait!" Lizzy smirked, her dimples popping on either side of her cheeks. Dimples that were identical to the ones Harry had. "Isn't the sperm donor allowed to meet up with the recipient and the baby if both parties agree to the terms? You could let Dr. Patel arrange a meeting and let her help you explain?"

"You're brilliant."

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By the time Moira, Ollie and Bella had gotten back from the play, it was already getting dark. Lizzy was quick to say her goodbyes and take her daughter back home.

Moira cursed herself for not having done her grocery shopping that morning, it meant she had to do it now; after a tiresome day and with her feet killing her from walking in heels.

Rushing to the store, she left Ollie sleeping in his crib -exhausted from the busy day- while Harry watched television in the living room. Knowing they'd be just fine without her, she took her time. But once she got there, the store turned out to be closed.

Fantastic.

She could've opted on going to another grocery store, since there was one situated on every corner of every street. However, the voice in her head told her this was a sign; that the universe was trying to urge her to do the grocery shopping tomorrow, to go home and order pizza instead. So she did.

When she arrived back at the apartment, Harry wasn't where she'd left him. But judging by the sight of his phone on the coffee table, he couldn't be far.

"Harry?"

No answer.

She sneaked upstairs. Thinking that perhaps he was following Ollie's example and taking a nap?

Her heart seized when she heard him calling her name through the door of her bedroom. Hardly breathing or moving, she slowly opened the door and peeked inside.

Her dim bedside lamp illuminated the room as well as her occupied bed. He certainly hadn't been napping. Pictures scattered over the sheets, some spilling onto the floor, and many more cluttered in a nearby envelope. He lay amid them, back turned to the door, moving just so slightly under the sheets. Moira leaned in to hear him whispering.

"Oh, Moira."

She recoiled and tensed to leap back. But he didn't turn. Instead he continued muttering, "Who took these of you?" He rolled onto his back, and she glimpsed the picture in his hand. It was her.

It hit her. Moira took a closer look into her room and found herself in every photo lying around. One taken at the beach when she got a new string bikini. Another when she dressed up for Halloween as a pirate wench, skimpiness flaunted. One where she was clad in blood red lingerie, with stockings and all. And then there was one of her just coming out of the shower, towel just barely covering her still-dripping body. The more she looked, the more pictures she discovered. Many of them showed pictured her in slutty dresses, big t-shirts hardly covering her panties and sports bras with workout shorts.

Fúck, fúck, fúck.

Moira's heart started pounding. He'd found the pictures her ex-boyfriend -Derek- had taken of her all those years ago. When she'd left Derek, she'd taken the pictures with her, just in case he had planned on blackmailing her with them. They'd been in her bedside table ever since; Harry must have found them. Until then, she hadn't thought of them since forever.

"Princess..." Harry sighed, commanding her eyes back to him. He had called her princess a few times before, so she figured he meant her. He engrossed himself in a particularly worn picture in his one hand, but where his other one was Moira couldn't see.

That is, until he pulled back the sheet.

"Mmmm," he groaned, stroking his cöck to the picture. Her mouth fell open -Harry thought that way about her!? Thankfully her voice froze along with the rest of her, so he kept stroking his hardening sháft and staring at the picture of her.

"God..." he murmured, his precum shimmering and dripping down his knuckles. He had been touching himself for a while, it appeared

That fúcker! Moira screamed in her mind, How dare he rummage through her stuff and then jerk off to them!? She had half a mind to bash into the room and beat his senses back into him, but she couldn't. She couldn't move from the spot, or even close her gaping mouth. Her eyes trained on him, particularly on his far-from-little manhood as he coaxed it to life.

He growled hotly, his pumping milking another bead of precum from his engorged member. Moira watched transfixed as it spilled down the length of him.

This wasn't real. Moira rooted to the spot, listening to Harry moan and groan. It should've probably offended her, though she couldn't help but feel her panties getting wet from the images he was giving her, the possibility of what he could do driving her crazy.

"God, Moira," He breathed. His pumping sped up. Moira's head spun, not sure how much longer she could take watching him.

She found herself rubbing her clit though her jeans before she knew what she was doing. He was making her boil over. A part of her demanded she stop. She knew how wrong it was of him to masturbate to pictures of her in her home, let alone that she touched herself to the sight of him! But she couldn't help herself! Her panties were soaked. She'd only had two sexual partners in her life, but neither of them had had that effect on her when they were fúcking her. But Harry did, just with his words. And his cóck. She'd seen bigger and smaller before, but none in her eyes were as mesmerizing as Harraël's while his hand polished over it.

"Oh shít, Harry..." she breathed hotly.

Harry seized up and whipped towards the now wide open door, "Wha- M-Moira!?" His eyed fixed on hers, and time stopped. Her hand ceased touching her sensitive bud and quickly pulled away, while Harry's hand petrified around his twitching cóck. Neither moved, as if the scene would go unseen by them both.

Finally Harry took the initiative, "What the hell -you were supposed to be grocery shopping!" He threw the sheets on, as if he could still hide the fact that he was wanking to Moira. It didn't help that he dropped the photo he was staring at onto his lap.

"Um..." she said, "It was closed, so I figured we could order pizza instead. When I came home and headed upstairs, I heard something, so I came to... came to..." She shook her head to stop herself from staring at the big bulge tenting the sheets. Regaining her composure her hot flush of anger revived all at once. "I mean, what do you mean 'What the hell'? What the hell is all this!?" She threw her arms out over the picture-strewn room. Harry shoved what he could back into the envelope, but the damage was already done.

"I- I uh, I was-" he stammered, shovelling pictures wildly. Moira stomped forward.

"God damn it, Harry! Why the fúck would you look through my bedside table? What gives you the right!"

"I'm so, so sorry... I just... Hey!"

Moira snatched up the one picture he was staring at so intently before he could stop her, determined to see just what a pervert he really was.

It showed her laying passed out on the couch in her and Derek's old apartment, her shirt bunched up under her breasts and shorts crumpled from a night of partying. Her hair splayed out every way underneath her, and she was fast asleep. That was all. It wasn't even revealing beyond that, and its focus was on her peaceful face, a little smile crossing her slightly-open mouth.

Harry sat still, his head sagging as she looked at his favorite picture of her.

"You... were touching yourself to this?" She asked.

"Can I just put them all back now?" He didn't lift his head.

"Why... why not one of these?" She lifted up one where she was just out of the shower, the towel only barely hiding her bare body from the eye of the camera. "I mean, you were looking for something sexy... right?"

The word 'sexy' felt weird leaving her mouth. Let's just say it really had been a while since any sexual activities had taken place. Even her own mind was having trouble trying to catch up with the sudden burst of confidence that made her utter such straighforward words.

Harry breathed deep and spoke to the covers, "Those ones... could be anyone. There are plenty of them. I could just buy a Playboy if I wanted to see near-to-naked bodies. But I wanted... I wanted to see you, not anyone else. You're -" He looked up, but was stopped from the look on Moira's face. "I'm sorry! I'll put them all back. It wasn't right of me, I-"

"Stop it." She said, causing him to quiet down. "You were getting off to this? My face?"

"Y-yes- but no! It's not just your face, it's... uh... you." Harry stumbled over his words, adorably. "I... I just.." He clenched his jaw, but quickly stopped, "I.."

"Shhh," she said, stepping towards him, "You just what?"

"I lo-"

Right that moment, Ollie's soft cries erupted from the baby monitor, making them both sigh in frustration. Though especially Harry.

Just their luck.

Moira had no problem with shaking herself from their little bubble. However, she had to admit, she wanted Harry. Badly. She wondered what he wanted to say. But she wouldn't let her baby cry unnecessarily. And if it was important, he'd surely tell her later.

"Let's just forget this happened," She said, turning to leave. "I'm going to tend to Ollie, I'll meet you downstairs in half an hour."