Work Text:
2029
“Daddy, how does Santa fit in the chimney? Isn't he too fat?”
Harry listens to his daughter and tries to think of a believable explanation. His husband shines in the corner of his eye as he watches them both fondly.
“He’s a bit heavy from all the treats good little girls leave for him,” he says, kissing her nose so she can wipe it off with a smirk just like her papa’s.
“It’s magic, love,” Louis says softly, climbing into Harry’s lap, pulling her up with him. Harry presses a kiss to his cheek.
Louis never wipes it off.