Chapter Text
Harry’s well into his twentieth year when he buys the shop that will be his bakery. His family is quite well off, evidenced by the massive house they’ve been renting for over a decade, so he has some help with the renovations. He’s newly twenty-one when he opens ‘Sugary Styles’ for the first time and serves his gorgeous fiancé as his first customer.
Louis is twenty-three when he marries the love of his life and goes home to their perfect flat the same night before they go on their honeymoon the next day. He strips his husband of his suit and fondly puts it away properly before thoroughly starting off their marriage in the best way.
Louis and Harry are newly husbands when they get lost in New Zealand and laugh about it while asking for help.
Harry is piping a batch of twenty-four cupcakes in the back of his bakery for a birthday party when he gets the call from their surrogate telling him she is pregnant. He drops the piping bag and bursts out crying, rushing out to the front to grab Gabby, the person on shift, and hug her, before rushing out to his car to drive over to Louis' work, still in his ‘kiss the style-ish baker’ apron that Louis got him.
He bursts into the childcare centre, waving at Wendy sitting at reception before running down the hall to the room Louis should be in. He stops at the door and beckons Louis outside, making him leave the room of fifteen kids behind with his assistant Emma. Louis is barely out the door before Harry is kissing him quickly.
“Baby, what are you doing here? What’s going on?” Louis asks, checking Harry for anything and cupping his face.
“Penelope is pregnant. Lou, she missed her period two weeks ago and yes, she’s pregnant.” Harry rushes out, wrapping Louis in a hug as he squeals.
“Seriously? She’s really pregnant?” Louis yelps, jumping a few times and wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck.
“Yes! Yes! We’re gonna have a baby Lou, our own little baby.” Harry chuckles, kissing Louis' cheeks, forehead, nose, and lips.
“Oh my god we’re going to be dads,” Louis deadpans, before a smile creeps onto his face and he leans into Harry’s face. “You, my style-ish baker, are going to be a dad, and so am I. God I’m so excited to have a family with you.” Louis adds, bringing their lips together and kissing him deeply.
Louis is twenty-five and his husband is twenty-four when Penelope gives birth to a gorgeous baby with blue eyes from Penelope and a tight curl on their head from Harry. They pick a neutral name for their child, Frankie, baby Tomlinson-Styles #1. (“We can pick a neutral one because then if they figure out, they aren’t what they were when they were born, then it won’t be as bad, you know? And obviously if they want to change it, they are very welcome to.”)
Louis cries when he hears the sound of little feet running on their hardwood floor for the first time. And Harry joins him when Frankie tumbles down into his lap, giggling loudly with curls flopping all over the place.