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“It’s just cake, Hazza,” Louis says, laughing. “How hard could it be?”
“With you making it?” Harry gives him a crooked grin. “Do I really need to answer that?”
“Oh, but I won’t be alone,” Louis says. “Joey will be helping me.” He ruffles Joey’s hair, and the little boy tries to stand up even taller beside him. “Isn’t that right, kiddo?”
“Yeah!” Joey says, bouncing up and down on his heels. “I’m gonna be the bestest most helpfulest baker in the whole wired world. Even better than you, Papa! And Daddy and I are gonna make you the most delishishish -- the most deliciou -- the most delishiest cake ever!”
Harry smiles, rocking baby Ava on his knee. “I bet you are, Jo-Jo,” he says. “I’ll just-”
“Oh no you don’t,” Louis says, pointing warningly at him. “Need I remind you that it’s your birthday today? I don’t want you to lift a finger. You just sit there and look pretty -- you’re very good at it. And let me know if you need more wine.”
“I can get-”
“Not today you can’t.”
Harry shakes his head, laughing. “All right,” he says. “I know when I’m beaten. But I am supervising.”
“You think we’ll burn the house down?”
“Maybe,” Harry says. “Or maybe I’ll just get a show along with dessert. Either way I win.”
“Fair enough.” Louis leans down to press a quick kiss to Harry’s lips, then taps Joey lightly on the back. “Come on, Joey, let’s get apronned up!”
Harry leans back into the window seat, taking a sip of his wine. He has a feeling this is going to be interesting.
~*~*~
It takes all of three ingredients before things start to go wrong. The butter and sugars go in fine, if a little messily, and then Louis reads out: “One teaspoon vanilla extract.”
Joey obediently hands over the correct bottle and spoon, and Louis carefully measures out the liquid and pours it into the churning mixer.
“Mmmm!” Joey says, sticking his face closer to the bowl. “That smells good!”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Louis says. “The whole kitchen will smell like that once we get the cake in the oven.”
“Yum!” Joey claps his hands, almost losing his balance on the stool. Louis catches him, steadying him.
“Easy there,” he says.
“Sorry Daddy,” Joey says, gripping the counter. “I’ll be careful. Can I lick the spoon?”
“The -- this spoon?” Louis says, holding up the teaspoon measure. “For the vanilla?”
“Louis,” Harry says, frowning. “Don’t-”
“Yeah!” Joey says excitedly. “It smells so good -- better’n’chocolate.”
“Better than chocolate?” Louis repeats. His grin is slightly devilish as he meets Harry’s eyes over Joey’s head. “My, that’s quite high praise.”
Harry shakes his head. “No, Louis, seriously. Stop it.”
“Pleeeeeease, Papa?” Joey says, starting to wiggle again, until Louis’ hand on his shoulder holds him still again. He looks up at Louis. “Please, Daddy? Just a little.”
“It’s only a few drops,” Louis says, glancing from the measuring spoon to Harry to Joey, his grin getting just a little bit wider. “What could it hurt?”
“None,” Joey says, reaching for the spoon. “It could hurt none. I just wanna-”
“Louis-”
And then the spoon is in Joey’s hand. And then the spoon is in Joey’s mouth. And then the spoon is on the floor.
“EWWWWWW!” The shriek startles Ava awake, and she immediately joins in with an ear-piercing wail of her own. “Ew ew ew ew ew water water water ew ew ew water wa-”
Joey shuts up when Louis pushes a sippy cup of water into his hand, abandoning complaining in favour of ridding his mouth of the awful flavour as quickly as possible. Ava, on the other hand, keeps whimpering.
“This is your fault,” Harry says mildly, brushing back Ava’s hair as he rocks her. “Hush, honey, it’s okay, everything is okay. Daddy will clean it up. And he’ll bring you a nice bottle. And he’ll bring me some wine.”
Louis chuckles. “Coming right up,” he says. “Sorry, Jo-Jo, I couldn’t resist -- my mum did the same thing to me when I was your age.”
Joey pouts over the rim of his cup. “Meanie.”
“Hey, you asked to taste it,” Louis says, reaching into the fridge for the drinks. “Begged, really.”
Joey frowns for a few more moments, but by the time Ava is suckling contentedly on her bottle and Louis has wiped off the floor, he’s back to his cheerful self. “What’s next?” he asks.
“Four eggs,” Louis says. “Here, I’ll do two and you can do two.”
Harry opens his mouth to say that maybe Louis should take the lead, but he stops himself. Louis probably won’t listen, but he will clean up the mess when Joey inevitably-
CRACK.
“...oops.” Joey stares down in dismay at the pool of egg leaking across the tiles.
“Told you so,” Harry mutters to himself, even though technically he didn’t tell anyone. But he did see it coming, at least. “Called it.”
“Don’t worry,” Louis says, chuckling. “We’ve got spares. Could have been worse.” He hands Joey another egg, and taps his own on the side of the bowl. He lifts it to crack it open-
And it slips out of his fingers and into the still beating mixture, shell and all.
“Fu-”
“Louis!”
“-dgemuffins.” Louis quickly hits the button to stop the mixer, but Harry doesn’t even have to see the bowl to know it’s too little too late. The egg is pulverized. Louis can’t possibly pick out all the shell.
To his credit, Louis does try. A few larger pieces did stick together, and he spends a couple of minutes picking out smaller fragments, but eventually he sighs and gives Harry an apologetic smile. “Call it texture,” he says. “Pretend it’s the sprinkles.”
Harry gives him a skeptical look, but he can’t help smiling. He rarely can with Louis. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says. “Crunchy birthday cake it is.”
“Good,” Louis says. “It’s… fiber.”
“Fiber comes from plants,” Harry corrects. “Eggshells are made of calcium.”
“Even better,” Louis says. “Good for your teeth.”
“Which I’ll need the help on after chewing those things.”
Louis laughs. “Your teeth will be fine. Don’t be a baby.”
Harry looks down at Ava, who is nodding off in his arms again, the bottle slipping from her tiny mouth. “What do you think, A?” he murmurs. “Am I overreacting to think that cakes are better without eggshells?”
“She doesn’t even have teeth,” Louis calls over his shoulder as they mix in the other three eggs. “And this is the only cake we have, so it’s not really a question of ‘better,’ per se.”
“I deserve better.”
Louis turns off the mixer and steps away, crossing to where Harry is sitting. “You deserve the best cakes money can buy,” he says, brushing his hand across Harry’s cheek. “And we have the money to buy them. And some days, you even let me buy them for you.” He presses a soft kiss to Harry’s lips, and Harry leans up into it, greedily soaking up Louis’ touch. “But.” Louis pulls away, tapping Harry softly on the nose. “You always say there’s something special about a homemade gift.”
Harry smiles. “I do,” he says. “And there is. I love this. I love you . I’m just teasing.”
“I know,” Louis says, ruffling his hair. “It’s our bit.”
“It’s not about the cake,” Harry says. “It’s about this time together. It’s about seeing you with our son -- you’re always so good with him. It’s about laughing with you both. It’s about the fact that you care enough to make it for me.”
“Exactly,” Louis says. “Charcoal cake is still delicious if it’s made with love, right?”
“Charcake!” Joey exclaims, throwing his arms around Harry’s waist. “You love it, right Papa?”
Harry laughs. “Of course,” he says. He carefully extricates one arm from holding Ava, wrapping it around Joey’s shoulders. “This cake will be my favourite, Joey, because you made it for me. You and Daddy. You’re my favourites.” He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to Joey’s curly hair, and feeling Louis likewise press a kiss to the top of his own head. He breathes in, relishing in the feeling of family for just a moment. Then he releases Joey and gives Louis a quick smack on the cheek. “Now go finish my present.”
Laughing, they obey.
Harry only winces a little bit when they turn the mixer back on and spray flour all over the kitchen.
~*~*~
An hour later, the four are sitting on the couch watching The Sound of Music. Ava is down for a nap, and Joey is curled up on Harry’s lap. Harry leans against Louis, feeling gentle fingers brush through the strands and rub against his scalp.
They’re watching Maria lead the children singing through the countryside when Harry notices something.
“Louis.”
“Hmmm?” Louis’ voice is distracted, his attention still on the movie.
“Does it count as interfering if I mention that something’s burning?”
“Does it-” Louis sits bolt upright. “Oh no, oh sh-”
“Language,” Harry reminds him mildly.
“-nitzel.” Louis stands, almost dropping Harry’s head onto the couch. “I’ll be right back.”
Harry bites down laughter as Louis scurries into the kitchen. He hears the oven open, and then muffled coughing.
“Everything okay in there?”
A pause.
“Yeah,” Louis says dully. “It’s fine.”
Harry smiles, and keeps watching the movie.
Ten minutes later, Louis emerges back into the living room. “Would my two favourite boys like to join me in the kitchen for birthday cake?”
Joey scrambles to his feet in an instant, tugging Harry up by the hand. “Papa, Papa, come on! It’s cake time!”
Harry follows, trading a teasing grin to Louis’ sheepish one. “How is it?” he asks, sitting at the table. The cake sits in the middle, coated in frosting thick enough that the cake itself is entirely disguised. A handful of candles are poked into the top, flickering merrily.
“It’s fine,” Louis says, dimming the lights. “It’s just. A little smaller. I’m sure you’ll love it. Now, make a wish!”
Harry toys with the idea of wishing that he won’t bite into any eggshell, but when he leans forward and blows out the candle, the only thought in his mind is the fervent hope that their family will always be this close and this happy.
Louis and Joey applaud as he pulls back, the lights coming back up as Louis hands him a knife. Harry carefully cuts into the cake, levering out a slice. On first inspection, it does look pretty good -- Louis has cut away the burnt bits, leaving only the more evenly cooked middle. He plates up three slices, handing the other two around, then picks up his fork.
It’s surprisingly good, he thinks as he takes the first bite. A bit dry, but all things considered, not bad. For a four-year-old and a Louis (who might as well be four too), it’s almost impressive.
“This is delicious,” he says, only slightly fudging the truth. “Thank you, boys. It’s a perfect present.”
He presses a kiss to Joey’s soft hair and another to Louis’ cheek.
Louis smiles. “I’ll have you know I have a few more things planned,” he says softly.
Harry raises an eyebrow. “Oh yes?” he says. “And what might that be?”
Before Louis can answer, there’s a knock at the door. Louis smiles. “Perfect timing,” he says. “That’ll be one of them now. Come on.”
Harry follows Louis to the door, Joey hanging off his leg. He wonders what the delivery is -- food, a gift, maybe carollers if Louis was feeling particularly sappy?
The door opens and Harry’s hands fly to his mouth as he sees his mother on the doorstep.
“Mum!” He throws himself into her arms, feeling the warmth of her grip. “Oh my goodness, I can’t believe-”
“I’m only part of the present,” Anne says, laughing as she holds him tightly. “The other part is that I’m taking Joey out to the movies. Jo-Jo, do you want to see Joan of Arc or Spiderman?”
Joey gasps. “You’re the bestest grandma ever!”
“How long are you here?” Harry asks, pulling back to take her in. “It’s so good to see you!”
“Until Sunday,” she says, ruffling his hair. “And it’s good to see you too. It’s been too long. We’ll have to have a long talk tomorrow.”
“Definitely.”
“I’ll keep the little angel out of your hair for a few hours,” Anne says, reaching for Joey’s hand. He grabs it and holds it tight. “I’m sure you could use the break, birthday boy.”
Harry looks from Anne to Louis and back again. “You guys are the best,” he says. “I love you all so much.”
Anne flaps a hand at him. “Stop it,” she says. “Or we’ll both start crying. I’m a mum. I’m a grandma. This is what I do.” She presses a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be back around eight. Joey, do you like butter on your popcorn?”
And then they’re gone, Joey’s coat draped over Anne’s arm as the door closes behind them. Harry turns to Louis, just looking at him for a long moment, a soft smile on his face.
When he leans in, Louis responds eagerly, his hands brushing along Harry’s back as he nips at Harry’s bottom lip.
“I love you,” Harry murmurs between kisses.
“I love you,” Louis says back. “Happy birthday, Hazza.”
“Thank you.” Harry pulls back, cupping Louis’ face in his hand. “Seriously. This was great. The cake, and Mum, and Joey, and -- I love you so much. You make me so happy.”
“Of course.” Louis presses another soft kiss to Harry’s lips. “Now, we have the house to ourselves-”
“Other than Ava.”
“Other than Ava,” Louis amends. “But she’s getting better at napping. So the way I see it, we have three options.”
“Oh?”
“One.” Louis holds up a finger. “We could catch up on sleep. I know you’ve been tired lately, even with Ava sleeping better. I’d look after her while you just rest for a few hours.”
“Tempting.” Harry brushes his fingers through Louis’ hair. “What else?”
“Two.” Louis taps Harry’s nose. “We could eat more -- or rather, better, birthday cake.”
“You-” Harry pauses. “What?”
Louis grins. “It is just possible I had a suspicion that Joey’s and my cake would be, ah, a bit amateur. I knew you wanted something homemade. But I also kind of wanted to make sure you’d have something, well, edible.” He tugs Harry’s hand, leading him back into the kitchen. He ducks into the pantry for a moment and emerges with a white cardboard box. “Open it.”
Harry does. Inside is a beautifully decorated cake, covered in iced roses and delicate chocolate piping. It’s breathtaking.
“Louis, it’s beautiful,” he says. “I don’t -- thank you. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. You think of everything.”
“I try,” Louis says, laughing. “Fancy a bite?”
“I almost don’t want to cut into it,” Harry says, his eyes tracing the careful shapes.
“Fair,” Louis says. “I suppose that leaves option three.”
“Which is?” Harry looks up.
Louis grins, looking up at him with a mischievous look. “We go upstairs and see if we can make Ava a little sibling.”
Harry swallows hard, feeling his throat bob. “Ah,” he says faintly. “That’s -- not exactly how it works, but I -- well.”
Louis chuckles. “It’s been a while since we had the house to ourself,” he murmurs. “No kiddos waiting to burst in at inopportune times.”
“It has,” Harry says, swaying slightly. He can feel his heartbeat in his stomach, can feel Louis’ grip tightening on his shoulder. “We could… take our time.”
“Mmmm.” Louis moves closer. “So much time.”
Harry joins their lips in a searing kiss, feeling Louis’ nails dig into his skin through his shirt. It sends shivers down his spine.
“I think I might know which one you’re leaning towards,” Louis murmurs, pulling away to press his mouth to Harry’s neck.
Harry tilts his head back, his legs trembling slightly. “I -- yeah, you’re -- third one, please.”
Louis grins. “My pleasure,” he says. “Well -- and yours. Lots and lots of yours.” He traces a finger along Harry’s jaw. “It’s your birthday, after all.”