Chapter Text
It takes two months after their wedding for Harry to bring it up. They’re sitting on the couch in their flat, which was Harry’s flat until a couple months ago, Louis moving in almost immediately after their engagement. Louis had wanted to move somewhere entirely new, but Harry loved his home, and if he’s being honest, he didn’t want to leave the place where he and Louis first met. He loves being able to go outside and look at Louis’ old home, remembering when Louis first mocked him for reading to his plants, the plants that Louis has a secret affection for. He didn’t bring too much with him from his former home, choosing to keep most of Harry’s furniture and appliances, as his was much more comfortable and actually looked like it belonged, as opposed to the random pieces of furniture Louis acquired, none of which matched or was comfortable to sit on. What Louis did bring was books, boxes and boxes of books that Harry has taken to sorting through, picking Louis’ favorites to read to his garden at night. Currently, he’s reading The Sun Also Rises, although if Harry’s being quite honest, he finds Hemingway pretentious and monotonous. But he’ll do what he can to appease his stubborn, brainy husband.
“Lou?” Harry asks quietly as they watch a movie, Louis’ head lying in Harry’s lap, Harry’s fingers carding through his soft hair.
“Yeah?” Louis asks distractedly, half watching the movie and half falling asleep, very content and comfortable with his husband.
“What do you want more than anything? Like anything in the entire world?”
Louis, not unused to Harry asking seemingly random and out of place questions, sits up and rubs his eyes to wake himself up. He could be annoyed, but he knows that Harry’s questions, as odd as they may seem, always have a motive behind them. He’s careful in that sense.
“Um…I don’t know, Harry. I have the thing I want the most sitting next to me on this couch.”
“Sap,” Harry mutters, elbowing him in the side.
“Well, it’s true,” Louis huffs. “But I guess I also want to be published. And I want to travel. And have a job that doesn’t include making coffee all day, although if I was published I don’t suppose I would mind too much. Why do you ask?”
“Dunno,” Harry mumbles, rather uncharacteristically as he looks at his feet. Louis knows he’s not telling him something, because Harry always refuses eye contact when he is. He’s like a child.
Louis sighs. “What do you want more than anything, Harry?”
“Family,” Harry replies matter of factly. “I don’t really want or need money. I don’t have any major career goals, I’m pretty happy with where I’m at as far as photography and yoga classes go. And there’s nothing I really want more than you. And for my mum and sister to be happy. And maybe, one day…kids.”
“Ah,” Louis acknowledges, not knowing what to say to that. He knew Harry had a reason.
“Do you think you might ever want that too?” Harry asks quietly, terrified of the answer. He knows he should have discussed this Louis before their wedding, but he also knew that even if Louis didn’t want kids, he wouldn’t be able to leave him.
“One day, maybe, yeah. Not today. Or tomorrow. Or anytime soon. But possibly, eventually…yeah.”
Harry smiles and visibly relaxes, his eyes crinkling and his shoulders dropping. He leans forward and kisses Louis sweetly.
“Not today. Or tomorrow,” he agrees, looking into Louis’ bright blue eyes. “But someday.” He stands and holds out his hand to Louis. “Come on, husband. Let’s go to bed.”
It comes up again three months later.
“Haz? Harry, wake up!” Louis yells, shaking Harry’s shoulder roughly.
“What?” Harry groans into his pillow, not sitting up. “It’s early, Lou.”
“It’s after nine, Harry, and I’ve been waiting to wake you up for six hours, ever since a certain Irishman called at three in the bloody morning to announce the birth of my new niece!”
Harry shoots up, his eyes opening widely. “Niall and Eleanor had their baby? Why didn’t you wake me, you git?” He shouts, giving Louis a look.
“Oh for God’s sake Harry, it was three AM and you were snoring like a chainsaw. Besides, I wanted to give the new family some time to themselves, but I can’t wait any longer! Come on!” Louis stands up and begins getting dressed, assuming Harry will follow suit. Which he does, of course.
“And we have to stop at a shop, too! What do we get a newborn? A stuffed animal? A blanket? No, she probably has those. Or do we get something for Niall and Eleanor? Or both?” Louis rambles as he pulls on black skinny jeans and a black and white baseball tee, slipping on his vans without socks, a habit Harry finds utterly disgusting.
Harry won’t tell his husband, but he loves seeing Louis get so excited over Niall’s daughter, hoping this will inspire Louis to get serious about kids of their own. He knows Louis said not anytime soon, but he also hasn’t spent time around a baby in quite a while. Louis has much younger siblings, but they’re all past the baby stage, and he doesn’t go home to see them that often, choosing to call or skype rather than actually go back to Doncaster. Harry’s only met Louis’ family a small handful of times, in contrast to the many times Louis has met his mother and sister. He knows Louis has some issues with his family, but they don’t discuss them that often, as Louis becomes snarky and prickly when Harry broaches the subject.
“We’ll get both, babe. We can get her a stuffed animal and some flowers or something for Eleanor and Niall. Or, actually, shit, I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. I can give them a free photography session, and a framed photo. Think they’ll like that?”
“I think that’s perfect,” Louis says, pausing from running his fingers through his hair to smile at Harry. “That’s a lovely idea.”
Harry grins, slipping a green sweater over his messy curls. “It’s settled, then. Now let’s go meet my newest client.”
Harry and Louis walk quietly into Eleanor’s hospital room, afraid to wake up anyone who’s sleeping. Eleanor’s sitting up in bed, the baby in her arms, while Niall strokes a finger down her tiny cheek. Both are so enraptured by their daughter that they don’t notice anyone walk into the room, until they hear the click of Harry’s camera.
“Sorry,” Harry apologizes, smiling sheepishly. “You all just looked so content, I wanted you to remember it.”
“It’s ok,” Eleanor tells him quietly, tearing her eyes away from her daughter. Niall has already gotten up and grabbed Louis in a huge hug, embracing him tightly.
Niall breaks away, murmurs a hello to Harry, and maneuvers his daughter out of Eleanor’s arms. “Lads, meet Regan.”
“Oh!” Louis exclaims quietly. “Hello, Regan,” he says to the little girl, who’s blinking and looking at Louis, eyes taking in the new person in the room.
“It’s a beautiful name,” Harry tells the new parents.
“It means the king’s child,” Niall announces, a smirk on his face.
“Does it, now?” Louis says, making little faces at Regan in her father’s arms. “That’s fitting for a princess like you, isn’t it?”
Regan lets out a small squawk, causing everyone to laugh. “I guess she agrees, King Niall,” Louis says, stepping back so Harry can have a proper look at her. She’s an average weight and length, and though her eyes are blue like all newborns, Harry assumes they’re going to stay blue like Niall’s, since her face looks like a miniature version of his, with a tuft of blonde hair on top of her head. He knows babies look a little different when they’re first born, but so far Regan is the spitting image of her father.
“Niall, she looks just like you,” Harry tells him, noting the proud smile that spreads across Niall’s face. “I can’t believe she already has so much hair.”
“They say it’ll probably fall out and grow in darker,” Eleanor offers. “But I hope not. I want her to be blonde like her daddy.”
“She’ll be beautiful either way,” Harry tells her. “And she’s being rather calm for meeting two new people so soon.”
“She’s hardly cried so far,” Niall tells Harry and Louis, his eyes never leaving Regan’s face. “Just when she’s hungry or needs to be changed. She seems pretty happy though, doesn’t she El?”
Eleanor smiles, reaching out for her daughter again. “I think she’s going to be like you in every sense, Ni. Happy and bright. Although she might start wailing for days at any time, and then we’ll really regret saying this,” she jokes, settling Regan into the crook of her arms.
Harry and Louis stay for about an hour before they leave to let everyone get some sleep. Eleanor and Niall loved Harry’s gift, as well the stuffed elephant they bought for Regan. They both held Regan for a few minutes, but she would cry for her daddy after a few minutes with either of them. Harry loved watching Louis with her, seeing how his face lit up when she looked at him, watching him smile and coo over her. Louis might not realize it, Harry thinks, but he’s meant to have kids. Harry’s never seen him as bubbly and bright as he is before now.
“She’s definitely a daddy’s girl,” Louis remarks as they leave the hospital, fingers interlocked with Harry’s.
“He’ll probably have her singing drinking songs before she can walk,” Harry agrees, squeezing Louis’ hand.
“And learning to step dance and drink beer like it’s water,” Louis adds, smiling.
“ I think Eleanor is going to need all the luck she can get,” Harry says jokingly. “Did you see Niall’s face when he looked at Regan? Niall’s a goner for her.”
“He’s in love,” Louis answers. “That baby’s never going to want for anything.”
“She’ll have Niall wrapped around her little finger,” Harry says. “They’re going to be quite the duo when they want to be.”
“I bet she’ll be as cheerful as he is, too,” Louis tells Harry. “All of my sisters were menaces when they were born, they cried all the time. Regan barely made a peep.”
“So does that mean our baby will be a nightmare?” Harry asks, faux nervously.
“Well, I guess it depends on who they take after, you or me,” Louis says. “But we don’t have to worry about that for a long time, right, babe?” He kisses Harry on the cheek and walks around to the passenger side of the car.
“Right,” Harry says quietly. The more he thinks about kids, the more he wants one, desperately. And he knows parenting is a big deal, that Louis has to be ready, but what if he’s never ready? Their drive home is quiet.
“Harry, you’ve got to tell me what’s bothering you and stop tossing and turning,” Louis grumbles later that night, as Harry rolls around, trying to get comfortable, for the millionth time.
“I’m fine, Lou. I just can’t sleep,” Harry whines, lying back and trying to relax. “Go back to sleep.”
“Harry, I can’t sleep when I have a husband with the world’s most gangly legs kicking me in the calf every few seconds. Care to tell me why you’re taking up bedtime athletics?” Louis asks, both sarcasm and concern tracing his voice. He rolls on his side to face Harry and nudges one of Harry’s sock-clad feet with his own bare foot.
“I don’t know, I guess I’m just thinking,” Harry says, turning to face Louis.
“You don’t normally have problems sleeping, Haz. What are you thinking about?” Louis questions, locking his eyes onto Harry’s emerald set. He reaches up and runs a hand through Harry’s chocolate curls, pushing them out of his face.
“Kids,” Harry admits, avoiding Louis’ gaze. “I know you said not for a long time, but seeing Regan today made me want our own baby, really really bad. And I didn’t want to tell you, but-“
“Harry, no,” Louis interjects. “You have to tell me when something’s bothering you. That’s why we’re married, to talk about this stuff. And we need to talk about it, especially something as big as kids. You can’t keep everything you want to yourself, you know? We’re in this together.”
Harry smiles at Louis, reaching over to kiss him softly. He intertwines their feet as he thinks about how to respond to his beautiful, wonderful husband. “I just don’t want you to be mad, Lou. I know you said you don’t want kids for a long time, if ever, but it’s like this urge I have and it’s driving me crazy.”
“Did you feel this way yesterday?” Louis asks. “Are you sure it’s not just because you saw Regan?”
“It is and it isn’t,” Harry answers. “I mean, I definitely want kids, I’ve always wanted kids, but seeing Regan definitely made it worse. I never felt like I was actually missing something before, like there was something absent from my life. But I can’t stop picturing a baby of our own, one with your eyes or intelligence or your dramatic streak.” Harry’s serious but he adds a joke on at the end, trying to ease Louis into this conversation.
“Harry, I can’t tell you that I’m ready to have a baby, because I’m not,” Louis says, one hundred percent serious. “But I respect how you feel, and I’m willing to be more open to the idea of fatherhood.”
Harry smiles, opens his mouth to reply, but Louis cuts him off again. “But I don’t want a baby until I feel like I’ve accomplished something. Like, I don’t want to be a father and be that guy who just serves people coffee his life, you know? I want to do something big first, whether it’s seeing the world or getting a new job or getting published. I want our son or daughter to be proud of me.”
“Louis, there’s no way in the world our kid wouldn’t be proud of you,” Harry’s staring into his eyes, trying to let Louis know how fiercely sincere he is. “You’re the most independent, clever, wonderful man I know. I hope our son or daughter is just like you.”
Louis starts to protest, but Harry doesn’t cut him off this time. “And I’m proud of you. So proud of you. There’s no one else in the entire world that I want to be with or have children with, and I’m proud every time I get to tell someone you’re my husband. I wish you wouldn’t doubt yourself so much, babe. You think you’re small but that’s not true, Lou. Not true at all. You’re fucking everything. At least to me.”
“I love you,” Louis says, hoping Harry knows how much he’s trying to say with those three words. That Harry is his entire life, not that he could ever bring himself to say that. But without Harry, Louis knows he would fall apart, as pathetic as that may sound. Louis has always prided himself on being independent, never needing anyone else. His mother provided him with food and shelter and everything, but she was too preoccupied with his sisters and her divorces to pay him too much attention, and after his mother divorced for the second time, he had to take care of himself and his sisters, pretty much on his own. He knows his family resents that once he left for uni, he never came back, and if he’s honest with himself, he hates himself for it, too. He feels horrible that he left his sisters without him, that he went from uni to his own flat without even making a pit stop at home. When he sees his family now, it’s awkward and uncomfortable, like meeting with distant relatives, not his own mum or siblings.
Louis never imagined himself needing someone until he met Harry. And he certainly never imagined himself taking care of children again, whether they were his siblings or his own kids. He figured he’d be on his own forever, and he thought he was ok with that. It was Harry that walked out onto his balcony and changed Louis’ life irrevocably, forever. And Louis might not have guessed he’d end up here, lying awake in the middle of the night because he was worried about someone else, not due to his own anxiety and insomnia, something he hasn’t had to deal with since his wedding night. But there’s no where else he would rather be than whispering across pillowcases to his husband, on their own island of bedding and blankets in the dark. Louis loves sex with Harry, loves being so physically close to him, but to Louis, this is what real intimacy is, sharing private thoughts and small touches and loving whispers. To Louis, this is everything.
“I love you too,” Harry whispers, moving over until he’s on top of Louis, bracing himself with his arms and kissing him forcefully. Louis closes his eyes and gives in, returning Harry’s kiss and letting him take control, until they’re both lying naked in a sweaty tangle of sheets and limbs.
“Harry?” Louis whispers, hoping Harry’s still awake as he lies there thinking.
“Yeah, babe?” Harry’s sleepy voice floats out in the dark, raspy and slow.
“I swear I’m not going to make you wait forever. Just give me some time, yeah? I promise I’m going to work really hard. For you. You and our kids.”
“As long as you need, Lou. I’ll still be here,” Harry mumbles, rolling over to press against Louis, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face in the crook of Louis’ neck. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Louis drifts off to sleep with Harry snoring gently in his ear and a newfound determination in his head.