Chapter Text
Harry’s steady fingers had crafted thousands of confections to absolute perfection. They could swirl a cap of frosting on a cupcake with inhuman speed, pipe oil paintings onto cakes and cookies, and shape fondant into life-like replicas. It was what had earned his fledgling bakery an esteemed – if short-lived – reputation, and what had allowed his subsequent online business to thrive and flourish in the years since it had closed.
Everyone was familiar with Harry’s handiwork, which was why he got more than a few perplexed looks when he brought out the cake for their daughter’s fourth birthday party… and it looked very much like she herself could have been the one to have decorated it. He couldn’t help it that he couldn’t focus, or that his hands couldn’t stop shaking.
Not since those two little lines appeared on the pregnancy test he’d taken that morning.
Harry had convinced Louis that they should start trying for another child just after Rose’s second birthday. (“It’s not like it’ll happen right away, Lou; plus it’ll be another nine months after that before it’s actually born, and by then she’ll be at least three and we want them to be close enough in age that they can still play together…”) Eventually, Louis agreed just to shut him up about it – it wasn’t like Louis was going to be the one carrying it this time anyway. Let Harry be the one to deal with trying to keep up with a walking, talking toddler while a watermelon was lodged between his hips.
So, they had been trying to have another baby for about two years now. At first, Harry had insisted on taking pregnancy tests religiously. Every week, in fact. The lady at the drugstore around the corner knew them quite well by now, and tended to give them a sympathetic look every time they had to come in to buy more. Eventually once a week became once a month, then just whenever Harry insisted that he felt “off”. It had been a while since Louis had even been there for the actual test-taking (which, alright, Harry couldn’t really blame him for that; every time the one mocking line showed up Harry ended up in a right foul mood for the rest of the day. Louis always seemed to know anyway, but at least he wouldn’t have to hear the speech again about how he should stop taking them if they made him so unhappy.)
But now here he was, finally proper up the duff, and he had to hold his damn tongue so as not to steal their daughter’s thunder. Since the day was special for both her and her parents, they had always vowed to dedicate the day to Rose and save the celebration of their anniversary for the evening after she went to bed.
Of course Harry wanted to defend himself when his creation was mocked for its resemblance to Hagrid’s cake in Harry Potter, but he was afraid that if he opened his mouth he would not have been able to keep his own secret locked inside. So, he settled for scowling at the party guests and waving the serving knife threateningly in their direction.
“She’s four and it’s pink – it’s perfect, love,” Louis assured him, wrapping his body around Harry’s back and his arms around his waist.
Harry couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across his face, thinking of the life growing beneath his husband’s hands and wondering how long it would be before he could no longer reach all the way around. He spun around in Louis’ grasp and leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose. “You’re perfect,” he countered, placing another kiss in the center of his forehead.
Louis simply rolled his eyes, having long ago given up arguing that particular point with his husband. He scanned the backyard for Rose, preparing to call her to the table for cake and presents, but when he found her his lips turned down into a pout. “Oi, Ni!” Louis called, beckoning Niall to their side. Liam trailed closely after – the two were practically inseparable – and Louis almost rolled his eyes again.
“Cake time?” Niall asked, a little too hopefully.
Louis narrowed his eyes. “Just what does your nephew think he’s doing?” he asked, pointing an accusing finger in the direction of the young boy.
Though nearly twice her age, Theo was patiently allowing Rose to lead him around the garden, dragging him by her little hand and showing him all her toys and talking away about the elaborate personalities she’d constructed for them. He even picked one of the few wildflowers left in the yard before winter and handed it to her, at which point she beamed and clutched it to her chest like it was a rare jewel rather than a backyard weed.
And Louis didn’t like it one bit.
“Boy can’t help it if he’s got the Horan charm and dashing good looks,” he said, striking a pose and flashing a crooked grin.
“Just make sure he keeps it in his pants,” Louis grumbled.
“He’s seven.”
“And it’s not like you’ve got any room to talk there,” Liam added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye before taking a victorious sip from his wine glass.
Louis scoffed, indignant, but when he turned to Harry for some support, he just shrugged. “We’ll see if you still feel that way when you two start poppin’ ‘em out,” Louis said casually, leaving Liam practically choking on his drink while Niall simply continued cackling.
Liam scowled at Niall, who was unapologetically stuffing pigs in a blanket into his mouth, before turning back to Louis’ smug expression. “Well, we might not have the chance if he keeps risking his life eating the food you made.”
“Hey, I’ve gotten alright at cooking.” All three stared at him with eyebrows raised, and Louis sighed in exasperation. “Alright, I’m better at least. Haven’t had the fire alarm go off in months.”
“Well, there was that time last week…” Harry began before Louis elbowed him in the ribs.
“Were you making mac and cheese again?” Liam asked with a knowing smirk.
“Oh fuck off,” Louis hissed quietly. “That was one time – one time – I forgot to put the water in. And I was drunk at the time. At least I didn’t get something stupid permanently tattooed on my body while under the influence.”
Liam narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, you get stupid ones even when you’re stone cold sober!”
Niall stepped between the bickering friends just as Louis lunged at Liam. “Think of the children!” he cried dramatically, caught in the crossfire of their misplaced blows.
“Alright, alright,” Harry said in his best fatherly tone, “that’s enough.” He wound his arms around Louis’ midsection and easily lifted him up and away from the ruckus. “I think Lottie could use a hand watching the kiddos, yeah?”
“Fine,” Louis huffed, giving Liam one last glare before stalking over to the face painting station where his sister was currently adding the finishing touches of glitter to an elaborate butterfly design she’d drawn on their next door neighbor’s little girl.
“Were you sent to time out for not playing well with others again?” she asked without looking away from her work.
“Liam was being a wanker,” he explained, plopping down in the grass next to her chair.
“Mommy says we’re not supposed to use that word,” the little girl – Kyra – said.
“Your mommy is correct. Mr. Louis is just upset and has trouble expressing himself in a healthy and socially acceptable way.” Lottie smiled sweetly over at her brother, who was unamused by her observation. “All done,” she announced, appropriately ‘ooh’ing and ‘ahh’ing over Kyra’s transformation.
Kyra skipped away with an extra spring in her step to join some other kids in the bounce house, leaving the two siblings alone. They sat in blissful silence for a while, until Rose spotted them and bounded over.
“Papa!” Her little arms wrapped around Louis’ torso and she nuzzled her face into his neck.
“What a beautiful princess,” Lottie said with a reverent bow.
“I’m not a princess, I’m a flower!” she corrected with an eye roll and a giggle.
“I think it was the tiara that threw her off, love.” Louis tapped at the sparkly crown on Rose’s head.
“Oh yeah!” she exclaimed with another giggle. “Papa, I have something for you.”
“Oh? And what’s that?” Rose pulled away and stood up so that she was about eye level with him. She stretched out her arm, and clutched in her fist was a slightly wilted and crumpled dandelion. “Didn’t Theo give you that?” he asked, only slightly bitterly.
“Uh huh, yes. But Theo said you get flowers if you’re special and I’m special ‘cause it’s my birthday but you’re special every day and so you should get a flower too,” she said all in a jumbled mass on a single breath.
It was moments like this that Louis felt unworthy of the gift that was his daughter. She saw the beauty and value and wonder in things that the world had labeled otherwise. She wore her heart on her sleeve and shared it bravely and unsparingly with those she deemed worthy. And she was so sure about the overwhelming goodness of life that rather than clinging tightly to the things she feared losing, she gave them away freely to bring that joy to others.
“It’s, uh… it’s beautiful, baby girl,” he said, clearing his throat. “Thank you.” Rose just smiled proudly and bounced away like it was no big deal.
“Never gets old, does it?” Lottie asked, noting the unshed tears in his eyes.
“No, I don’t believe it does.”
Lottie chewed on her lip for a moment. “Can I ask you something?” Louis hummed in acknowledgement, still focused on twirling the flower in between his fingers. “How did you… like, how did you know you were ready?” At this, Louis looked up at her and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “For- for her?”
“What do you mean?” Louis’ eyes widened. “Shit, Lottie! Are you saying—are you—?”
He was scrambling to get to his feet when Lottie put a steadying hand on his shoulder. “No, no, I’m not pregnant.”
Louis plopped back down on his butt and clutched his hand over his heart. “Fuck, give a guy a heart attack why don’t you.”
“It’s just, well Don has sort of been hinting about it. About wanting a baby.”
“Is that what you want?”
Lottie shrugged, a bit shyly. “I dunno. I mean, maybe? I wanted to talk to you about it first.”
“As Liam is so fond of reminding me, I’m not exactly the poster child for planned pregnancy, Lots.”
Lottie rolled her eyes. “Fuck off, you know what I mean. I just… I feel like a mess most days. It took years for me to finally commit to actually marrying Don. And a baby is just so, well…”
“Permanent? Life-changing? Scary?”
Lottie nodded. “You’re just so good with Rose. And I don’t—I’m not sure I could do… all that.” Louis busted out laughing – he couldn’t help it. “What?”
“Jesus, Lottie, do you remember what I was like when I first found out about Rosie? Or the first few weeks we had her home? Hell, even now I still can’t make a decision without second guessing every choice I make.” He got up on his knees and looked up into his sister’s conflicted face. “But I have a partner I trust, and I love her more than anything. We’re both just doing the best we can and that’s all anyone can do.” She nodded, and Louis got fully to his feet. “So, if this is something that you decide you want, then you’ve already got everything else you need to be a really great mum.”
Lottie stood and clung tightly to her brother for a moment before Niall screaming, “CAAAAKE!” cut across the yard.
“Guess we better get over there before Niall gets to it and there’s nothing left for the kids.”
Louis kept a close eye on Theo, making sure to sit him on the opposite end of the table from his daughter as the cake was served. He watched as Niall bent down and whispered something in his ear, then scowled as the boy nodded, got up from his seat, and walked confidently over to the birthday girl.
“Theo!” she squealed in delight.
“Miss Rose,” he acknowledge with a small bow, which everyone but Louis seemed to find utterly endearing. “I thought you might like my piece of cake, since it has a rose on it, and you’re Rose, and it’s your birthday.” He looked back at his uncle for confirmation that this was the correct thing to say, and Niall gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up.
The little shit.
Rose’s big eyes got impossibly wider and she unleashed the full force of the dimpled smile she’d inherited from her daddy, wiggling around in her seat until Theo could slide smoothly in next to her. Louis had every intention of storming over and intervening when he felt Harry’s arms snake quickly around his torso.
“Let’s at least wait until she can count past twenty before we start issuing threats of bodily harm, yeah?” he whispered into Louis’ ear with a laugh.
Louis would have put up more of a fight, but then Harry’s lips were doing more than forming words. They brushed against his temple in what would have been a chaste kiss, had they not then traveled lower and lower, parting just enough for his tongue to tempt and tease the sensitive skin along his neck. Louis had been biting his lip to keep from making the many inappropriate noises Harry’s ministrations usually elicited, but couldn’t help the startled yip that escaped when he bit down playfully into the flesh of his shoulder.
“Harold!” he chastised, swatting at the mass of hair that was still nestled in the crook of his neck. Harry toned it down a bit as he left a more socially acceptable trail of kisses back up to his ear, but Louis still groaned at the unreleased tension.
“Sorry, love. Can hardly wait for tonight.”
Louis sighed and leaned back heavily into Harry’s chest, wrapping his arms around the ones Harry had around him. “Seems like just yesterday we were headed to the hospital with this one,” he said wistfully. Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting out something about how it wouldn’t be long before they would be doing that again. Louis didn’t seem to notice as his eyes again narrowed on the blond Casanova that now had one arm linked with his baby girl. “She really is going to break some hearts, that one. Mostly ours, I reckon.”
The rest of the party progressed with expected chaos. Kids were hyped up on sugar, parents were tipsy with wine, and there were sure to be traces of glitter permanently embedded into every outdoor crevice, but finally the last guests had gone and the bags of rubbish were taken to the curb and on any other day the two parents would have been too exhausted to do much besides put Rose to sleep and crawl into bed themselves.
But today was not any other day.
As was their custom, Louis had taken to putting away toys and cleaning the rooms downstairs while Harry negotiated with their stubborn daughter about taking a bath. The roles of good cop/bad cop had developed as quickly as Rose’s diva toddler attitude. He didn’t do it consciously, but Louis was still so afraid of being too severe, of permanently damaging her psyche, that he tended to give into her every demand. It was innocuous enough when she was little, but now that she was getting into problems that involved others – e.g., hitting or lying or downright obstinacy – he was slowly learning how to correct her as well. He was learning, but in all likelihood he would always be the soft one.
Ironically, this made Harry – sweet, gentle, calm, empathetic Harry – the bad cop most of the time. This particular night was exacerbated by too much overstimulation and excitement during the day and too much anticipation of the evening’s activities. Both father and daughter were a bit more biting than usual, and if Louis was being honest, it made him feel the slightest bit better about his own parenting capabilities hearing Harry try to talk her into taking a bath, or brushing her teeth, or putting on pajamas.
One way or another, every night the house somehow got clean and their little girl made it to bed. On this particular night, Harry made sure to be finished first so that he could make everything just so before Louis joined him.
Harry dimmed all the upstairs lights and placed candles around their room and down the hall. He created a trail of yellow roses that started at the bottom of the stairs and ran all the way to their shared bed, where Harry situated himself in the center. Louis had forced him to start at least wearing boxers to bed once Rose had started walking, but tonight he chose to return to his favored state of undress.
“Not long now,” he whispered, curling his chin forward and staring down at his still flat stomach. He gave it a gentle pat before laying the anniversary gift he’d wrapped earlier across his hips and waiting for his husband to come up and celebrate. They had so very much to celebrate.
Louis ascended the stairs slowly, picking up flower after flower and blowing out the candles as he went by them. It was a sweet gesture, but he had a feeling they would soon be… otherwise occupied, and didn’t particularly want to have to worry about accidentally burning the house down. When he reached the threshold of the bedroom, the picture that awaited him caused him to stop dead in his tracks.
Harry’s naked body was a sight that he would never get used to. It was hard muscle and soft skin – sculpted marble draped in silk – and even after so many years together it never failed to steal the breath from his lungs.
Louis released his hold on the flowers and tiptoed to the foot of the bed. The soft light of the moon and the candles gave him an almost ethereal glow, and his smile was downright otherworldly as Louis climbed onto the mattress and situated himself between Harry’s bent knees.
Louis continued to stare in a daze, and normally Harry would find this quite flattering, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could contain his news. “Aren’t you going to open your present?” he finally asked, his eyes flicking to the cleverly positioned gift.
Louis frowned down at the small box censoring his otherwise perfect view. “Can’t possibly be better than what’s behind it.” He made a move to toss the present aside for later, but Harry’s hands latched onto his wrists, holding them in place. “It’ll still be there in a few hours,” Louis whined, again trying to gain access to Harry’s glorious cock.
Harry suppressed a chuckle and sat fully up. “I promise it’ll be worth your while.”
At this, Louis quirked an eyebrow. They didn’t usually exchange gifts – tangible ones, anyway – for this occasion, and his first thought was that the box contained some sort of bedroom toy or accessory. After all, they had spent the last couple years actively trying to conceive; although they were both more than up for the task, occasionally they were compelled to get, well, a little more creative. This thought was quickly banished, though, when he removed the lid to reveal a neatly placed square of fabric, which he unfolded and—
“Is this a joke?”
“What?” The words were almost angry, and Harry was genuinely confused.
“This is a kid’s shirt, Haz.” Yes, Harry knew that. “I know you like to tease me, but fuck! Now? You think now – on our anniversary – is a good time to mock your husband’s small stature?”
It was then that Harry realized that Louis hadn’t actually bothered to read what the shirt said. “What?” he asked again, shaking the last bits of confusion out of his head. “No. God, no. Lou, it’s for Rose; the shirt’s for Rosie.”
Louis had always been particularly defensive about his size, which of course his friends then loved to tease him about, and still wasn’t quite sure whether he should be offended. “If it’s a gift for Rosie, why didn’t you just give it to her this afternoon?”
Harry looked up to the ceiling and growled in exasperation. “Just read the damn shirt, will you?”
Louis’ petulance almost caused him to completely disregard Harry’s request, but… well, Harry was still naked and the desires of his baser self overrode the misplaced stubbornness. His eyes raked over the words once, twice; they flicked wildly back and forth between the glittery text and Harry’s now widely grinning face.
“’Big sister’?” Louis asked around the knot forming in his throat. Harry nodded. “You’re—are you—?” Harry leaned over and snatched the positive pregnancy test from the drawer of his nightstand and held it out proudly for Louis to examine. “You’re pregnant.” It was a statement, but Harry nodded anyway. “You’re pregnant!” Louis shouted, launching himself at Harry and pinning him to the bed.
“I’m pregnant!” he managed to confirm in the few seconds that Louis’ lips were not attached to his.
Louis left a trail of kisses down Harry’s neck and across his chest; he scooted himself down on the bed and rested his palm in the space beneath Harry’s bellybutton. “We’re gonna have a baby,” he whispered in awe, laying his head down next to his hand as Harry’s fingers carded through his hair.
“I love you,” Harry said, placing his hand on top of Louis’, on top of their growing child. “Happy anniversary.”