Archive of Our Own

December 20th

Harry

Harry stilled outside the door of his youngest daughter’s bedroom, smiling to himself as he listened to her babble away where she was laying in her cot, just having woken from her afternoon nap. It was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world to Harry, and after a few moments, he pushed the door further open, flooding the room in the soft light from the hallway.

“Hello, my littlest princess,” Harry said, his voice soft and calm as he walked over the cot, grinning down at his baby girl who was waving her arms and legs around in the excitement of seeing her daddy again. The dark hair atop her head was a little messy, already slightly curly like Harry’s own, and her cheeks were slightly pink from her deep sleep. He reached in and picked her up, bringing her to his chest, kissing the top of her head. “Did you have a lovely sleep, hmmm?”

“Bababababa-” she babbled, bashing a wet fist against Harry’s chest as he wandered over to her changing table, popping a clean nappy and baby gro on her before he left the room and went down the hall, looking for his other children. He could hear excited giggles coming from Imogen’s room, and rapped his knuckles on the door as he walked in, his heart almost exploding at the sight of his other babies curled up on Samuel’s bed together. “Mimimimimi-”

“Molly wake!” Leo, Harry’s nearly three year old son shrieked, jumping out of the covers and onto the floor, running over to his baby sister. He’d been mesmerised by her arrival just over six months ago now, and the fascination was seemingly endless. Although he was only two (Harry was in denial that his baby boy was nearly three in just a few short weeks), Leo could never do enough to help his daddy with his baby sister, and Harry encouraged the closeness of the pair, always having wanted a close knit family since he was young. It was all he and Louis had ever wanted, if he was honest. “Hi Molly.”

Harry walked over and sat on the end of the bed so Leo could hug his sister, perching the Molly’s bum on his thigh, an arm holding her tightly around her waist. As Leo pulled silly faces at his sister, Harry turned his attention to his eldest children, Imogen and Samuel who were looking at a colourful picture book which was spread across their laps. He reached out, pushing a lock of Samuel’s sandy colour hair out of his eyes, making his son look up at him with his piercing blue eyes that were so similar to his father’s.

“What are you two reading?”

Imogen gave Harry a gappy-toothed smile as she tilted the book, showing off the cover of ‘Aliens love Panta Claus’, a book that constantly had both Leo and Samuel in fits of giggles whenever Harry read it at bedtime. Her dimple deepened in her cheek, and Harry couldn’t help grinning back at her as she spoke with passion to her father.

“Sammy and Leo asked me to read it to them,” she explained, looking far older than her eight years in that moment. “I love reading to my brothers.”

“You’re a great big sister,” Harry replied as Samuel scooted closer to him, snuggling into his side. One thing Harry loved was how much his children craved his affection, and it was something that he gave easily, always offering hugs and kisses at whatever opportunity he could. Whether or not that was due to the guilt of having to be both Daddy and Papa for most of the time, he didn’t really know but he didn’t mind, not even when he ended up with two or three children in his bed at night, small but sweaty limbs against his own. “Do you all want to come downstairs while I get some dinner on?”

“May we have twirly pasta?” Samuel asked softly, the quietest of Harry’s four children without a doubt. Samuel, or Sam as Harry and Louis called him, was the one Harry saw himself in most of all, whereas Leo was all Louis. Imogen was a nice blend of the pair of them, and Harry couldn’t wait to see who Molly would become like as her little personality came out more and more. “With the red sauce you make?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Harry said, standing up and popping Molly on his hip, Leo holding his free hand. “Shall we put some telly on?”

“Let’s watch Arthur Christmas again!” Imogen cheered, and Leo and Samuel nodded their agreement. When they arrived in the living room, which was all lit up by the colourful fairy lights on the huge Christmas tree in the corner of the room, Harry popped Molly down on her playmat as Imogen ran to the shelves, grabbing the DVD and passing it to Harry while the boys settled themselves on the comfy grey sofa, pulling their fleecy Christmas blankets onto their laps that Grandma Jay had brought them at the start of December. “Can I do the buttons, Daddy?”

“Sure,” Harry replied, handing over the remote to his daughter, leaning down to tickle Molly’s tummy as she kicked her little feet, trying to grab one and shove it into her mouth as usual. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

As he walked through to the kitchen, he stopped along the way, picking up various toys, socks and other items his children had left scattered around the house, dumping them on the dining table to sort out later. He knew his home could stand to be tidier, but being on his own with four children under the age of eight meant housework really wasn’t at the top of his list of priorities.

Dinner was a rowdy affair as usual, with Imogen and Samuel sat at the table, Leo in his booster seat, and Molly next to Harry in her highchair, playing with the finger food Harry had laid out on her tray for her. Leo slurped up his pasta as noisily as he could, smearing it around his face while Samuel just watched everything going on, Imogen chatting away about the Christmas party she’d had at school earlier that afternoon. Harry cleaned up with Imogen’s help while Samuel and Leo went to play with trains, Molly already sleepy in her high chair, sitting quietly and watching her daddy and big sister work.

It wasn’t until Harry was in bed that he felt himself relax. He glanced to his bedside table, looking at the picture of himself and Louis on their wedding day, a tiny baby Imogen in a pretty lavender dress in Louis’ arms, the pair of them grinning at the camera, happier than they’d ever been. It felt like two minutes ago in some respects, the way Harry’s tummy felt full of butterflies as he waited outside the door of the registry office, ready to walk to Louis and his future, but right now, sat alone in their marital bed with their four children asleep down the hallway, it felt like a lifetime ago. He reached across and grabbed the book that had arrived at the start of the month, smiling down at the cover. Louis had insisted Harry set up a wishlist on Amazon, and on the first of every month, a new book arrived on the doorstep, along with a printed love note from Louis, often sending Harry into tears.

He read the note he’d tucked inside the cover again, in printed type but deep down, he knew Louis had spent ages researching all of these quotes he sent each month, and his heart felt full with the thought.

‘You’re never alone when you’re reading a book’. And you’re always in my heart, my beautiful Harry. I love you and miss you, can’t wait to come home. Your Louis xx

He smiled and popped it on the bedside table and was just about to crack open the first page when there was a light tap at his bedroom door, and he sat up as the door was pushed open, his eldest daughter appearing in the sliver of light from the hallway, looking sad.

“Hey sweetheart, something up?”

“Can I, um, can I come in bed with you for a bit?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, watching as Imogen turned and closed the door behind her before diving under the covers on Louis’ side of the bed, immediately shuffling into Harry’s side, her little arm wrapping around his festive pyjama clad body. She sniffed for a moment, and Harry felt her little body start to shake with her sobs, and his heart broke a little more. “Oh baby girl, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I j-just-” she stuttered, struggling to get her words out through her tears as Harry continued to comfort her as best he could. “I miss Papa so much. Why can’t- I want him to come home.”

“I know, love,” Harry soothed, stroking her hair back as she continued to cry against his chest. Imogen had always taken Louis being away the hardest, having spent the most time at home with her Papa between deployments but she’d been more emotional lately than she had been before, and Harry had been struggling with juggling her emotions as well as his own. “He’s going to call in a few days, baby girl, let’s think about that, yeah? You’ll be able to have a good chat with him-”

“It’s not the same!” she wailed, her body getting hot and sweaty under the duvet, and Harry pushed it down slightly with his free arm, wishing there was something more he could do to help her. “I want him home, I want to cuddle him and I want him to be here for his birthday.”

Harry sighed, knowing how much both he and Louis wanted that to be the case as well, but it just wasn’t meant for them this year. It didn’t make it any easier, and Harry was grateful in a way that Leo and Molly were too young to understand what was happening in their home.

“You know Papa wishes he could be here too. But we just have to try and enjoy Papa’s birthday for him, and then Christmas as well. Papa wouldn’t want you to be here crying over him, darling, you know that. He’d be so sad to know you were feeling like this.”

Imogen just sniffed quietly, her loud wails subsiding to little sniffles and hiccups, her fist still clutching onto Harry’s top. He stayed quiet, sensing she’d almost worn herself out and he just held her close until she was sound asleep in his arms. He gently wriggled his arm out and left her on his pillow, deciding to let her stay in his bed for the night in case she woke up again. Harry was overcome with a need to check on his other children, so he quickly slipped out of bed, grateful his bedroom door wasn’t a creaky one as he crept out and into Samuel and Leo’s room. 

Both boys were squished into Samuel’s bed despite the fact Harry had most definitely left them in their own beds a few hours ago when he’d kissed them goodnight, but he didn’t mind. Samuel loved cuddling up to his baby brother more than he’d ever admit, and Harry just pecked their heads again before he left, walking over to the nursery. Molly was on her back, her little hands clenched into fists either side of her head, her dark hair plastered to her forehead. Harry ran the back of his index finger over her soft cheek, Molly instinctively turning into it.

“Sweetest dreams, princess,” Harry whispered before he left her, pulling her door ajar, leaving her room bathed in the soft glow of her nightlight. Imogen was still asleep when he got back to his room, her hair splayed out on Louis’ pillow, and he kissed her too, slipping into bed next to her. As always, Harry picked up their wedding photo and kissed Louis’ face before kissing his own wedding ring.

“Goodnight, Louis. I love you so much, and so do the kids. We can’t wait until Easter when you’ll be home. Stay safe, my darling. Our world won’t work without you.”

*************

Louis

Louis looked around at the place he’d called home for the past six months and sighed. As much as he craved returning home to his family, it was always hard to say goodbye to the familiar surroundings, the men and women who so quickly became his army family, particularly the young recruits who always looked like rabbits in the headlights when they disembarked their flights and made their way to their barracks.

“You all packed up, Corp?” Matt, one of the Privates, asked Louis, standing and hovering over his shoulder where Louis had his large rucksack laid out on the bed. “Got all your important bits and pieces?”

“Bits and pieces? You sound like my husband,” Louis joked, slapping the young lad on the back. He looked down at the things scattered across his small bed, unable to believe this would be the last full day with his troop, a group of twenty or so soldiers, all proud to work for the British Army, wearing their uniforms with pride. Louis glanced down his arm at his insignia sewn to his sleeve, heart swelling with the realisation that he’d done so much in the ten years since he’d enlisted. 

“Bet the kids can’t wait to see you,” another of the Privates piped up, holding Louis’ prized family photo in his hands, smiling down at the family image that had been taken almost a year ago when Louis had been granted two weeks leave to go home and see his family, before his baby daughter Molly had been born. Harry was heavily pregnant in the photo, and Louis’ hand was proudly cupping his bump, both of their eyes shining as they grinned at the camera. He’d sadly missed Molly’s birth, but the thought of seeing her for the first time in a few days was what was keeping him going. Thankfully though, Louis had the most understanding husband in the world who’d had both of their mums by his side while he’d given birth to Molly, but it still weighed heavily on Louis’ heart he’d missed the birth of their fourth child together. 

Louis grinned, nodding eagerly at the thought of how surprised Harry and their children were going to be when he arrived home in a few days. They weren’t expecting him until Easter, a good four months away, but this was something Louis had been planning for the past twelve months when he’d finally put in for discharge from the Army, pursuing a job within the military that would allow him to be home for his family. He’d missed enough of their lives, and his marriage to Harry, and he’d decided when he’d found out Harry was pregnant last year that enough was enough. As much as he loved his job and the Army, he loved Harry, Imogen, Samuel, Leo and Molly infinitely more.

“I mean, Molly and Leo won’t understand much of this anyway, but Harry’s going to- well, I don’t know what he’s going to do, quite honestly,” Louis said, having pictured the scenario almost every night for the past month or so, and coming up with something different each time. “I’m buzzing though, thinking about seeing them all again. And I just can’t wait to hold my baby girl. You’ll get it one day when you’ve got your own family, mate.”

“Tomlinson, a word?”

Louis’ head snapped to look over his shoulder, looking at the General who was summoning him and he nodded, quickly abandoning what he was doing. He stalked across the barracks and knocked quickly on the door before he went inside, shutting it behind him and coming to a stop in front of the desk the General was sat behind.

“At ease, Corporal,” the General said, and Louis nodded, still unable to feel entirely at ease around the man who commanded his entire unit. “You ready for discharge, Tomlinson?”

“Yes, sir,” Louis nodded, hoping the General wasn’t going to try and talk him out of this. “I’m very proud of my career to date, but I’m ready to allow someone else to have the opportunities I’ve had within the best Military in the world.”

“You’ve got that right, son,” the older man said, looking weary now as he relaxed back into his chair. “As much as I don’t want to lose a Corporal of your calibre, and believe me, if I could find a way to make you stay I would… I understand. You’re doing this for your family, and I am sure you have made the right decision.”

“I have. And I appreciate all the support you’ve given me over the years.”

The two men regarded each other with a quiet respect for a moment, and the General slightly tipped his head at Louis, a slight smile on his lips Louis had only ever seen on a few occasions in the almost decade he’d been working underneath the man’s command. 

“Your flight out is at 0400. I expect you’ll be packed and ready for discharge?”

“Yes, sir. The four privates and I are ready to leave, and I’ll look out for them on the journey home.”

“I’m assured that you will. And Tomlinson?”

“Yes, sir?”

“It’s been an honour serving alongside you. There aren’t many men I would trust with my life but… you are one of them, Corporal. You’re a born leader, and so many of the younger recruits look up to you in a way I haven’t seen for the longest time. You’ll be missed, Louis.”

Louis swallowed down the lump in his throat, knowing the Army didn’t appreciate emotion on that level. He’d save his tears for Harry and his children, for when he saw them in a few days time at home for Christmas. He just gave the General a curt nod and the pair saluted each other before Louis walked out, stopping just outside the closed door for a moment, gathering himself. He’d always known leaving this place for the last time was going to be hard, but he hadn’t anticipated it would feel like this, like he was leaving a part of himself behind.

“Corporal?”

“Patterson, can I help you?”

“Yes, Mathieson wanted to run through the patrols for tomorrow, Sir.”

Louis nodded and the other man disappeared, leaving him alone. Louis wished more than anything he could grab his phone and text Harry, to offload his worries, his fears and his excitement about coming home, but that was an impossibility. He also knew that Harry was expecting a scheduled video call with him in the next few days, but he’d instructed the Communications team to contact Harry the day prior, explaining that for reasons undisclosed, Louis would be unable to take the call and it would be rescheduled. He hated knowing that Harry would be upset by that, but deep down, he knew it was for the greater good.

“-to fall out. Ah, Corporal, did you want to do the honours for the final time?”

“I would. Listen up, men…”

December 22nd

Harry

Harry hummed to himself as he stood in Molly’s room, a pile of jumpers, leggings, vests and baby gro’s in front of him that he was folding meticulously, ready to put away. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe how much washing four children generated, and he knew it would only get worse now the eldest two had officially broken up from school for the Christmas break, and were now on holiday for the next two weeks. 

He pulled open one of Molly’s drawers, a pink wooden unit that he’d bought during his pregnancy. He’d built it with the help of his sister, Gemma, with Sam and Imogen trying their best to help. Luckily, Harry had the patience of a saint, and eventually, it had been built and was now stood proudly against the soft purple walls. He laid in the pile of neatly folded clothes, stopping for a second when he heard raised voices coming from downstairs. He sighed and abandoned his task, hurrying downstairs, knowing things could quickly get out of hand if he wasn’t there.

“-it’s my turn, tell him, Immy!”

“Leo, you need to wait for Daddy, ask him…”

“NO! Me! My turn!”

Harry heard the scrape of one of the kitchen chairs being pushed back from the table and then a shriek and he sped up, running into the room to see his sons glaring at each other, tears welling in Samuel’s eyes, and a fierce look of anger on Leo’s that was spookily like Louis’ when he got cross.

“Right, what’s going on here? Ah ah- don’t all shout at me. Imogen, can you tell me what’s happened?”

The little girl nodded, popping an arm around Samuel’s shoulders while Harry picked up Leo, trying to calm his son down before a full blown tantrum took hold. Leo already had an explosive temper like his Papa, but luckily it seemed a cuddle from Harry was enough to calm him down for the moment. 

“Leo thinks it’s his turn to do the cross on Papa’s coming home calendar, but Sam thinks it’s his. I can’t remember, Dad, so I said to ask you but they both got cross-”

“BABABABABA!” Molly yelled, bashing her fists on the tray table of her high chair where Harry had left her while he’d sorted the washing out, since Imogen and Samuel were sat at the table doing their Christmas colouring books.

“Alright, my lovely, I’ll sort you in a sec,” Harry said, not wanting to ignore his youngest daughter. “Now, who did the cross yesterday?”

“I did,” Imogen said, raising her little hand, her sparkly pink fingernails glittering in the kitchen lights. 

“So that means it’s Sam’s turn, Leo. We go in age order, remember? And I do the cross for Moll. So Sam, go and get the special pen from the drawer and you can do it now.” Harry picked Leo up and tried to soothe his son, but mini-Louis wasn’t having any of it.

“I WANNA TURN!” Leo wailed, and threw himself backwards hard and fast, making Harry grab his back, holding him tightly against his body. Leo was definitely a dramatic little thing, so much like Louis it scared Harry sometimes. He turned to his son, knowing sometimes, tough love was the only way with him.

“Leo, that’s enough. Tomorrow it’s your turn, and if you don’t calm yourself down, you’ll have to have three minutes on the naughty step.”

“No, no, no, I don’t wanna!”

“Then stop. Go and say sorry to your brother now, please!”

Leo nodded and wiped his eyes as Harry lowered him down to the floor, trying not to smile at the sight of the mismatched Christmas socks his son had chosen that morning. He ran over to his big brother and hugged him tightly, and Harry felt proud as he watched Samuel kiss his brother’s head, accepting his mumbled apology with ease.

“Well done, boys. And Imogen, thank you for trying to help. Now, Nanny’s coming over soon so I’d like you all to go and tidy up your rooms please. And if you do a super good job, then we can ask her to decorate our Christmas biscuits when she’s here, alright?”

“Okay!”

“Yes!”

“Will do, Daddy,” Imogen said, taking Leo’s hand and marching him out of the room, no doubt ready to help her littlest brother as she always did. Harry smiled and glanced at the calendar, at the wobbly blue X Samuel had drawn. It was a tradition in the Tomlinson household that they have a countdown on the wall that led up to the day Louis would return home again, and now they were down to 104 days. It seemed like a lifetime away to Harry.

“A-wuh-wuh-wuh,” Molly said, chewing on her fist again. Harry was convinced she was teething at the moment, thanks to her constantly ruddy cheeks, and the way she chewed everything in sight. Harry lifted her out of her high chair, cringing slightly at the milk-stained and dribble coated baby gro, deciding to go and change her. All was quiet as he made his way upstairs, balancing Molly on one hip and a bag of toys that had been left at the bottom of the stairs in the other hand. “Dadadadaaaaaa-”

“That’s right, I’m your Dada,” Harry smiled, rubbing noses with his baby girl for a moment. He knew that really, it was too early for Molly to be associating that name with him, but still, he loved it. He’d spent a good hour recording her babbling it over and over the other evening, wanting to show Louis on Facetime when he called for his birthday in two days time, sure his husband would be just as excited as he was over it. Harry knew these precious moments meant just as much to Louis as they did to him, particularly because Louis often missed all of the milestones unless Harry made sure to record them, which he did as often as he could. “Shall we find your brothers and sister, hmm?”

Molly just shoved her fist back in her mouth as Harry laughed to himself, heading for Leo and Samuel’s room. Harry’s other three children were in there, all working together to tidy up toys that were all around the room. Samuel was cross-legged on the floor, boxing up a puzzle he’d made earlier that day, and Imogen was helping Leo put his train set back in the box that sat under his bed. Harry sat Molly on the floor next to Sam and quickly made the boys’ beds, smoothing out their Christmas duvet covers and plumping the pillows.

“Daddy, I’m gonna take Molly to my room and tidy up,” Imogen called, and Harry nodded, trusting his eldest child implicitly. Molly’s babbling faded into the distance as Harry stood and watched his sons for a moment. Leo came over and cuddled his leg, looking up at his Daddy with his blue eyes. 

“Alright, little love?”

“Yeah. Miss Papa,” Leo shrugged, and Harry ruffled his hair. “Nanny soon?”

Harry smiled at the thought of his mum coming over that afternoon. She’d been a godsend since he’d welcomed his and Louis’ first baby at the tender age of eighteen, helping them out for the first few weeks of parenthood. Neither man was sure how they’d have coped without their mums, and even all these years later, Harry still heavily relied on her to help out, especially at these busy times of year. If he was honest, his Mum, and Louis’ mum Jay, had held him together, and he wasn’t ashamed of that.

“Yes, love, after lunch. We’ll see if she’ll stay for tea as well, shall we?”

“Peas?”

“You want peas? Again?”

For some reason, Leo had been obsessed with peas as of late, requesting them with every meal, and his son chasing them around the plate with his spoon, his tongue stuck out in concentration, never failed to make Harry laugh. 

“I love peas,” Leo said with a very serious expression on his face, gazing up at Harry with almost adoration in his eyes. “Peas please.”

“Of course, darling,” Harry said, leaning down to kiss his son quickly. “You looking forward to seeing Nanny, Sammy?”

Samuel just nodded, straightening up his small collection of books on the shelf on his side of the room. He was an avid reader, much like Harry was, and when the other kids were playing loudly, he could often be found curled up in the corner of the sofa, a book on his lap, reading quietly to himself. Whenever Louis was home, Samuel spent as much time sharing books with his Papa as he could, and nothing warmed his heart more than seeing the pair share stories together, making memories that got them through until Louis got home again. 

“Can we put our tree lights on?” the young boy asked, nodding to the small Christmas tree Harry had put in the corner of the room, as he had done every year since Imogen was born. He was a complete sucker for Christmas, always had been, and now having children just made the festive season even better for him. As much as he wished Louis could be there every year to share it with them, making it memorable for his children was his priority, and he already had eight years worth of memories made with them to treasure.

“Sure. Let me pop the plug in.”

Harry leaned over and plugged them into the wall, the clear sparkly lights twinkling. Harry always gave the children free reign to decorate their own trees, and he took charge of the main one in the living room, making sure it was picture perfect. Leo clapped his hands gleefully, running over and watching the lights a little too closely for Harry’s liking, but he left him to it, his son just as mad about Christmas as he was.

“Right, I’ll leave you two to it…” he said, and both boys almost ignored him so Harry walked off, hovering outside Imogen’s room, watching as the little girl danced around the room, Molly following her big sister’s every room, eyes wide. Single parenthood was hard, Harry was always tired, he hadn’t slept a full night for eight years now but at times like these, when his kids were getting on and all was calm in the house, he wouldn’t change a thing. No, that was a lie. He would, only to bring Louis home, where he belonged.

*

“Nanny, look! I putted peas on the Santa!”

Both Anne and Harry looked over to see green blobs of icing all over the santa shaped biscuit in front of their son, and they both burst out laughing, Leo’s face creasing into a frown at the fact his Daddy and Nanny were laughing at his perfect design.

“Not funny, I love peas, and love Santa, so did it!”

“You did a great job, love,” Harry reassured his son, pulling Leo onto his lap as he reached for another biscuit. “Shall we try another one? Maybe a tree this time?”

“With peas?”

“If you like, but how about some pretty baubles instead?”

“Green ones like peas?”

“You’re not gonna win, H,” Anne called, helping Samuel out across the table with the white icing to create some snowflake blobs on his snowman biscuit. “That boy of yours loves peas. How are you going to break that one to Louis?”

“Not sure yet,” Harry chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as Leo stuck out his tongue, focusing hard on applying the green blobs on the tips of the tree branches, most of it leaking off the biscuit and onto the wipe-clean tablecloth underneath. Harry just left him to it. “He’ll get over it, though. Oh, good job, Im! That’s so pretty!”

“Can you take a photo to show Papa?”

“I will,” Anne called, wiping her hands down on the apron she’d borrowed from Harry. “Oh Molly, what a mess…”

Harry had given Molly a bit of biscuit in her high chair and all she’d done was gum it to death, and now there was soggy biscuit everywhere… in her hair, on her clothes, even in her ear. He grimaced for a second before his heart melted as Imogen held up her beautifully decorated reindeer biscuit, grinning widely at Anne’s iPhone as she snapped a picture of her granddaughter.

“You know, I used to do this with Daddy when he was a little boy,” Anne said, starting to wipe down Molly, scooping up lumps of biscuit in some kitchen roll. “He used to love using all the icing and making pretty patterns with it. Do you remember that, love?”

“I do,” Harry nodded, hoping his children would have memories like his own when they were his age. He worked hard at making life as fun and exciting as he could, embracing every season, forever taking photos to immortalise each moment for Louis to enjoy whenever he came home. They had a bookshelf in the Tomlinson home simply for the photo albums Harry had carefully cultivated since they’d first gotten together when Harry was just fifteen years old, up until a few months ago. It reminded Harry he still needed to make the second one of 2019 sooner rather than later. “My turn, can you please pass the red, Sam?”

Samuel nodded and handed Harry the tube of red icing, coming to stand at Harry’s side while he started to decorate his own festive biscuit in the shape of Santa. Harry felt his tongue poke out between his lips as he squeezed the tube carefully, and he almost sensed Samuel’s body tense next to him as he watched Harry’s every move.

“BLUE PLEASE-” Leo yelled then, startling Harry and making his red bleed over the edge of his biscuit for a moment. Harry just sighed, keeping his temper in check as his eyes looked up over the table, chuckling lowly at the sight of Leo absolutely covered in icing, struggling to get any out of the tube. 

“Don’t shout, Leo,” Anne reminded her grandson, heading over with her wet cloth again, clearly intent on cleaning him up. Harry just felt glad he’d made the decision to put them all in old clothes before Anne had arrived, not too worried then if things got ruined. Leo was always the muckiest anyway, so Harry wasn’t surprised. 

“Oh. Sorry Nanny!” the little boy said, giving Anne a grin Harry knew his mum couldn’t resist. He was right, and he watched as Leo’s sticky hands grabbed Anne’s cheek, planting a big kiss on her cheek before he pulled away, leaving sticky marks on either side of her face, much to the delight of Imogen, Samuel and Harry who were by now laughing.  “Oopsy! Messy Nanny!”

“Messy Nanny because of you, you little rascal,” she laughed, wiping her face clean now. “You really are your Papa’s son, aren’t you?”

“He really is,” Harry confirmed, noting that both Samuel and Imogen had gotten quiet again at the mention of their Papa. “You alright, kiddos?”

“Yeah. Just wish Papa could be here to do this with us,” Imogen shrugged, heading off to the kitchen sink to wash her hands, abandoning the biscuit she’d been decorating. “Can we have dinner soon? I’m getting hungry.”

Imogen always changed the subject when it wasn’t something she wanted to talk about in that moment, and Harry hoped he’d remember to talk to her later on at bedtime when it was just the two of them.

“Tell you what, Im. How about you and me make a start on the dinner, and Daddy can finish up with your brothers, yeah? I reckon Molly’ll need a nap soon anyway, H.”

“You’re right.”

Harry watched on as Anne picked up a relatively clean Molly, bringing her over to him for a quick kiss before she took her off for a sleep, Imogen still hovering by the sink, looking out over their garden.

“Casserole tonight, Dad?”

“Yes please, Princess. Hey, Immy?”

Imogen looked up, her green eyes flashing back at her father for a moment, reminding him so much of himself when he got emotional.

“Yeah, Daddy?”

“I love you, darling. Papa would be so proud of you, seeing what a gorgeous young lady you’ve become.”

She just nodded back at him, her eyes shining as Anne walked back in, bustling around and grabbing veggies from the cupboards, meat from the fridge and whatever else she decided they needed for their meal. Harry just stood back and tugged Leo onto his lap while his son finished demolishing yet another biscuit with an entire tube of icing, Harry unable to ruin his son’s enjoyment of the activity with his worries of cleanliness. Making memories was far more important.

*************

Louis

Louis gripped the arm rests of the plane seat as it connecting with the tarmac of the runway, the engines firing quickly to slow it down, finally back on dry land. It had been a long flight back from Somalia, and Louis was grateful to finally be on his way home. There were still a few more stops he had to make before he was back home in Manchester, heading to their family home, but for now, stage one of the journey was underway, and Louis couldn’t be more excited.

The other soldiers who were returning from war with Louis remained seated as the plane came to a stop, all chatting quietly amongst themselves. Louis was the only one who wouldn’t be heading out again in a few weeks time after his leave, and he knew their returns home would be bittersweet, with the dread of departure hanging heavily over them all as it always did whenever he had come home before.

“Sir? It’s safe to disembark the aircraft now,” a stewardess said softly, startling Louis from his reverie for a moment. He blinked and smiled at her, nodding and standing up, stretching his limbs from where they’d been cramped in his seat for the past few hours. He was the last one on the plane, and as he made his way down the aisle, several military personnel waiting near the exit of the plane saluted him upon seeing his rank, Louis quickly returning it.

He made his way across the tarmac and into the terminal of the airport, ushered through the security checkpoints with ease, his passport soon stuffed back into his pocket as he rejoined his comrades in the next waiting area, waiting for the next stage of their journey back home to the U.K.

“Corporal, we’re going to find some drinks. Can we get you anything?”

“Uh, a tea would be good, thank you,” Louis said, grabbing his wallet from his back pocket.

“No Sir, it’s on me,” the young recruit said, and Louis nodded in thanks, settling back in his chair. He touched the phone still in his pocket, resisting the temptation to turn it on. He knew if he did, it would consistently ping with a stream of messages from Harry, and then Harry would get delivery notifications and no doubt panic over it. Louis shut his eyes and tilted his head back for a moment, trying to relax. There was a buzz in his bones he knew was excitement, thoughts of how his family were going to react running endlessly through his mind.

“Here you go, Sir.”

Louis’ eyes flew open and he sat up, accepting the drink with a warm smile. The cup was a little too warm in his hands, but it kept Louis grounded so he left it where he was, watching members of the public milling around, heading off for the holidays to see loved ones, some for work, others to escape whatever was happening in their lives. This was something Louis always did at airports, trying to place people in scenarios, wondering where they were going and why. He smiled as a young couple snuggled closer on their chairs just across from where he and his fellow soldiers were sat, the taller man kissing the top of his girlfriend’s head, the pair obviously very comfortable with each other. His heart ached with how much he missed Harry, at the easy affection they shared, how Harry’s arm always snaked around his shoulders like that. It was a touch Louis never took for granted.

“Excuse me, Sir.”

Louis looked up to see two older gentlemen standing in front of him, military medals pinned to their jackets and he hurried to get to his feet, standing tall in his uniform as he took note of their badges, medals of honours and other accolades from the previous tours they’d taken. He quickly saluted them and they returned it, and Louis’ clasped hands rested behind his back, listening intently.

“We wanted to thank you and your men for your service. Each time we see young men like yourselves returning from deployment to your families… Jim and I always feel we want to thank you for your sacrifice, for protecting our country, and upholding the name of the best Military in the world.”

“It’s an honour, Sir,” Louis said, nodding his head quickly. “You were both deployed?”

“Falklands,” the man Louis assumed to be Jim replied, his finger coming up to touch one of his medals. “Thankfully, we made it home to our families. Do you have a family, Corporal?”

“I do,” Louis nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a photo he kept in his pocket at all times. It was folded over into a small square, creased and tatty but it was everything to Louis, and he went nowhere with it. He opened it up, eagerly showing it off to the men in front of him who leaned over, smiling at the sight of the family. It was a photo Louis’ sister Lottie had taken and posted out to him with her last letter. It was one of the only photos he had of Harry and their four children, and Louis treasured it.

Harry was sat at one end of the sofa, his baby girl Molly asleep in his arms, Leo on Imogen’s lap next to him, Samuel sat their feet. They were all smiling happily at the camera, and Louis felt a little emotional as he looked at it, realising that in just a couple of days, he’d finally be home with these four people who made up his world.

“What a lovely family you have. Your husband and children must miss you.”

“Not as much as I miss them. It gets harder and harder to leave each time. Our littlest, Molly, is just six months old, I.... I’ve not even met her, and I can’t bring myself to miss anymore of her life. This is my last tour. I’m finally heading home, for good.”

“Where have you served?”

“This is my third tour. I was deployed to Iraq first, did two tours then, then my third was in Somalia. That’s where I’m heading back from now. Then I’m going into office work, still within the army, but something that allows me to be at home with my family.”

The two men opposite nodded, ears perking up as another flight was called, obviously theirs from how their demeanour changed. They extended their hands towards Louis, and he shook both of them, thanking them quietly for their service as well.

“It’s lovely to meet you both. Have a lovely Christmas,” Louis says as the two men left, leaving Louis alone once more. He straightened out the jacket of his uniform, always feeling proud whenever he wore it in public. People weren’t shy of coming up to him and thanking him for his service, children asking questions and to have their picture taken with him, which Louis understood entirely. He’d been fascinated by the Military as a young boy as well, begging his Mum and Dad to take him to countless war museums, seeing as many military aircraft as he could, jumping at the chance to be part of it in any way that he could.

Louis wasn’t sure his own children had the fascination with the army that he had had at their age, but he didn’t mind. Samuel’s nose was always stuck in a book, Imogen enjoyed socialising with her friends and her gymnastics and Leo… well, Leo was still a bit of a mystery to all of them, seemingly taken by anything he got to do, too young to have his interests narrowed just yet. And Molly… Louis couldn’t wait to get home and watch Molly grow up and into a little girl that held his heart in the palm of her hand. 

With a glance up to the clock, Louis sighed, realising it was a good hour until their flight back to France would be ready. The army hadn’t been able to arrange one straight through to the U.K., but Louis didn’t mind. As long as he was home for Christmas, that was all that mattered. He nudged the elbow of the Private sat next to him, bored and needing conversation to keep himself awake.

“Who’s collecting you from the airport?” Louis asked the young man, Paul, smiling at him as the man’s face lit up.

“My girlfriend Leah. She’s probably been counting down the days, bless her. I can’t- shit, I can’t wait to see her again. Nine months feels like so long, you know?”

“I do,” Louis nodded, sympathising entirely with the man in front of him. “How long have you been together?”

“Uh, four years in April. Yeah, we met just before I enlisted, and she stuck by my side the whole time. She was the one who kept me going, actually. Every time I wanted to chuck it in and give up, sore and in pain, I’d think of her face, how proud she was going to be when I passed out. And she is. I do all this for her.”

“Aww, mate,” Louis grinned over, clapping Paul on the shoulder, feeling emotional at the young man’s declaration of love. “You got a photo?”

Paul nodded and grabbed his phone, bringing it to life as he tapped at the screen, finally handing it over to Louis. He smiled as he saw the beautiful photo, Paul stood next to a petite blonde woman, arms around each other, the happiest of smiles on their faces as they grinned at the camera. It reminded Louis a little of how he and Harry were with each other, even now that they were older and had children.

“Wow, she’s gorgeous. I mean, obviously not my type, but she’s beautiful. How’d you get a girl like that, lad?”

Paul just chuckled, shaking his head at Louis’ joke. Louis down to his own wedding ring, fiddling with it absentmindedly for a few seconds before he handed the phone back.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll both have an amazing Christmas together. You home for a few weeks before you’re off again?”

“Yeah. Three weeks, then we fly back to Somalia. Gutted it’s so short, but I’m just happy I get Christmas with her. I don’t know how you’ve kept it secret from your husband, I really don’t.”

“It’s not been easy. I feel like I’m lying to him in a way, and that’s not great. But it’s for the greater good. H’ll go nuts when I make it home for Christmas Day.”

The two men sat and chatted for a while longer, time flying by as they made easy conversation, and Louis was surprised when their flight was finally called. He helped a young family on board, carrying a couple of bags while the parents wrestled their baby and toddler aboard, smiling at the memory of trying that with Harry and their three children a few years ago between deployments. It was one of his fondest memories, even if the three hour flight had been hell on earth, Leo screaming almost the entire time while Imogen had moaned in boredom. Thank god for Samuel, who’d just sat with a pile of picture books, happy as anything.

Louis glanced around the cabin at his men, grateful they were all sat next to each other. He could sense that they were drawing attention in their uniforms, people pointing and whispering but Louis tried his best to ignore it, being as professional as he could. He knew that when he and his platoon were out in their uniform, whether on patrol or travelling between countries, that they were representing Britain and the army, and that weighed heavily on his shoulders. He sat up straight, clipping his seatbelt over his tummy in his lap, trying to relax again. 

“Welcome aboard this British Airways flight to Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris, France. We are scheduled to take off from Runway B in around fifteen minutes time, so please take your seat and prepare yourself for take off. Cabin crew will shortly be demonstrating the safety announcements…”

December 23rd

Harry

“Samuel, hold your sister’s hand please, good lad,” Harry called as he strapped Leo into the double pushchair, Molly already in the seat next to him, bundled up in her fleece onesie, a blanket tucked around her little body. Harry was soon satisfied Leo wasn’t going to be running anywhere anytime soon and turned to his older children, grateful they were behaving as he headed into town with his kids, ready for some last minute Christmas shopping.

“What are we buying, Daddy?” Samuel asked, his gloved hand in Imogen’s as they walked along the pavement, the bobbles on their woolly hats swaying as they walked. 

“Well, we need some more wrapping paper for Auntie Lottie and Auntie Fizzy’s presents, and some gift bags-”

“BOWS! MORE BOWS!” Leo yelled, making a few people turn and smile at the boy’s enthusiasm. He was right though, they did need more bows. Harry had woken that morning to find Leo had found his bag of bows and had stuck them all around the house, several on his own forehead and had cried his eyes out when Harry had gone around, taking them all down. He couldn’t bring himself to throw them away, and had instead let Leo go mad in his bedroom with them, figuring it was easier for now.

“Yes love, more bows,” Harry said, smiling down at his son and tugging his hat a little further down his head. They walked on, chatting as they headed further into town, into the busy high street. There was a small Salvation Army brass band playing some carols, and Harry stopped for a moment, listening as his children danced around him. 

“Daddy,” Imogen said, tugging on Harry’s coat to get his attention. “Can we put some money in the pot please?”

Harry nodded and fished a couple of pound coins out of his pocket, giving one each to Samuel and Imogen, watching as they held hands and walked over, smiling at the musicians and putting the coins in the charity pot.

“Good moosic!” Leo called, joyfully clapping his mitten clad hands together to a beat that didn’t match that of the song.

Half an hour later, Harry had a couple of shopping bags hooked around the handles of the pushchair, Molly and Leo were sound asleep as he pushed them along in front of him while he made conversation with his other children. They were in the final shop, gathering a few bits Harry didn’t really need, but he always preferred to be prepared. Imogen was clutching the packet of chocolate tree decorations, and Samuel was carrying the two rolls of wrapping paper Harry had chosen, unable to decide between the two.

“Go and join the queue, you two stand in front of me,” Harry instructed, squeezing the buggy into the narrow lane that led to the till. “Well done, kiddos.”

As they waited, he tugged his phone out of his pocket and replied to Jay’s message about coming round tomorrow for Louis’ birthday to share a cake with the kids like they always did. He groaned quietly, remembering he hadn’t even started the cake yet, and that meant it’d be another late night, slaving away while the children slept.

“Are they all yours, dear?” came a voice, startling Harry for a moment until he gathered himself, smiling and nodding.

“Oh, yes. Definitely all mine,” he replied, peering over the hood of the pushchair, double-checking Leo and Molly were still asleep. “Hectic with four of them, but I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Your husband or wife at home waiting for you?”

“Not exactly,” Harry admitted, always hating when people made assumptions about Louis and his whereabouts. “My husband, he’s, uh, he’s serving in the Army. He’s deployed, won’t be home until Easter.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear, that must be difficult,” the older woman wittered on, clearly oblivious as to how it was upsetting Harry to discuss it like this. “You have a lovely family, though. Your children are beautiful.”

Harry gave her a tight smile, and followed as Imogen and Samuel shuffled forward, next in line. Thankfully, the woman was pulled away by her husband, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. He was fiddling with his wedding ring, as he often did when Louis came to mind, and stayed in his bubble as he paid for the items, his children chiming out thanks with big smiles, picking up the bag as they headed out.

“Daddy? Are you okay?”

“Hmm?” Harry’s head snapped down to look at his daughter, nodding quickly. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine. Just thinking to make sure we’ve got everything. I reckon it’s time to go home and have some hot chocolates, do you?”

“Yay! Can we have marshmallows on top like Papa likes?”

“Sure, love,” Harry said, stopping and crouching down in front of Molly as she started to whimper, waking up from her nap. “Hey cherub, we’re going home now, I’ll get your bottle there, okay?”

He leaned in and kissed his daughter quickly before standing up, grabbing the handles of the pushchair again. They all walked quickly, chilly and shivering from the bitter winter wind that was picking up now. Harry was glad his Christmas food shop was going to be delivered the following day rather than having to drag himself out to Sainsbury’s at some godforsaken hour. They arrived back at the car, and Harry lifted a still sleeping Leo up and into his car seat while Imogen sat and entertained Molly for a moment, showing maturity beyond her eight years of age.

When everyone was situated, he folded up the buggy and lifted it into the boot of the big four by four Louis had been insistent they buy on his last trip home, wanting Harry and their children to be safe whenever they were out and about without him. He slid in behind the wheel and flicked on the Christmas radio station he’d found entirely by accident a week ago, Samuel and Imogen cheering when Mariah Carey’s famous Christmas song came on, and they started singing along. They’d definitely inherited the Tomlinson love of music.

He was surprised to see Gemma’s car parked outside his house when he arrived home. Samuel and Imogen jumped out as they spotted Gemma now standing at the front door, having let herself in. They hugged her, taking care of her bump before they let her come outside and over to the car, lifting Molly out while Harry stirred a slightly awake Leo, holding him close as they headed inside. 

“Didn’t expect to see you today. How’s my little niece doing?” Harry asked, resting a hand on Gemma’s swollen stomach on top of her Christmas jumper, chuckling as the baby inside his sister kicked. Gemma was due in February, and Harry was harbouring a small hope he’d get to share his birthday with his niece, although Gemma was convinced she’d be there much sooner than that. 

“She’s good. Keeping me up at night when she uses my bladder like a football, but other than that, we’re good,” she laughed, waddling behind Harry as he sat Leo down on the sofa where he curled up against the armrest, pulling a blanket over his little legs. Gemma was still holding Molly, pulling faces at her niece. 

Harry nodded in sympathy, remembering the sleepless nights he’d had through his own four pregnancies. 

“Ah, I remember it well,” Harry said through a smile. Finding out he was pregnant at just seventeen had come as a shock to both Harry and Louis, but they’d soon fallen in love with the idea of having their own family. Their families had been shocked, but had quickly supported the young fathers-to-be, Louis moving in with Harry, Anne and Gemma until they’d saved enough money to move into their own flat. His pregnancy with Imogen had been easy, which meant when Samuel’s pregnancy a few years later wasn’t as smooth sailing, Harry had struggled. It was hard, being heavily pregnant with a toddler at home, but by the time Leo and Molly’s pregnancies happened, Harry was well-practiced at it, and entirely used to not sleeping anyway. Seeing Gemma glowing and excited for her first child made Harry a little nostalgic, and he could admit to himself he did miss being pregnant. He’d never write off having a fifth child, although he might have to work at talking Louis into it at some point.

“How have the kids been without Lou? Behaving themselves?”

“Apart from Leo, the son of the devil,” Harry joked, accepting Molly back from his sister’s arms as they settled down on another of their sofas. “Nah, they’re good. Immy’s missing him a lot, came in bed with me and had a little cry the other night but I think she’ll be alright when she sees him tomorrow for the call.”

Gemma smiled fondly, knowing how much her brother and her nieces and nephews lived for the small moments they got to chat to each other, how it bolstered them through the week until the next time. She admired how her little brother juggled family life alone, desperately missing his husband, but keeping everything together for the four little people who relied on him day in, day out. 

“Daddy, can me and Samuel go and play Monopoly?”

“Sure, love. If you need a hand, give me or Auntie Gems a shout. Can you throw down a clean top and leggings for Molly, please? She’s all sweaty.”

“Okay! I’ll get her nice sparkly ones!” Imogen called as she and her brother thundered up the stairs. Leo was by now slightly awake and sleepily entranced by the episode of Thomas the Tank Engine that Gemma was busy putting on the telly, and Harry’s sister got up, waddling to get the clothes that landed at the bottom of the stairs, snatching her niece to change her.

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking in easy, Gem?”

“I’m pregnant, not dying, Harold, you should know that,” she quipped, making funny faces at Molly to distract her from being changed. She left her on her playmat when she was done, Molly batting at the things hanging over her head from the arch above her, which gave the two adults in the room time to talk for a moment, which Harry appreciated. “So, how are you really doing?”

Harry just shrugged, willing himself not to cry. It was easy to keep a brave face on for the children, to tell them Papa was doing just fine out in Somalia, that he’d be home soon enough, watching them excitedly counting down the days. But when he was asked by his mum or Gemma, it was another story. His heart ached with how much he missed his husband, the things that Louis was missing out on with their children. He just wanted him home, as selfish as that may be.

“I mean… it’s alright, I guess. I miss him so much, Gem, of course I do. I hate him missing Christmas, but it is what it is, right?”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t hurt, Harry. You know you can ask me and Mum for help if it all gets a bit much? And if you want Mum to host Christmas dinner-”

“No! I love doing that, you know I do. I, um, I prefer to be busy, that way I don’t dwell on Lou not being here-” Harry felt his own bottom lip wobble as his words hit home, his heart aching with thoughts of Louis. He glanced over to the plethora of photos of their family which were on every single surface Harry could possibly put one on, and he frantically swallowed down the lump in his throat, willing himself not to cry. “It’s a lot, Gem. Without him, I mean. I love my kids more than life, but it’s a lot at this time of year. The presents, the shopping, the build up… it's all on me and-”

He stopped talking as his voice cracked, and went easily as Gemma tugged him into a hug. He let his tears fall as quietly as he could, not wanting to worry Leo who didn’t like it when anyone around him got upset. Gemma just stroked his back soothingly, letting Harry’s emotions get the better of him until he sat up, sniffing and wiping at his eyes, trying to gather himself together again. 

“It’s okay to not be okay, Harry,” she said softly, her heart breaking for her brother. “Listen. Go upstairs, take a minute for yourself. I’ll make dinner for the kids, and I’ll watch Leo and Moll for a bit. And no buts, let someone take care of you for a change.”

Harry just nodded, giving her a small smile as he got up, leaning to kiss his son on the head before he walked upstairs, trying to keep quiet so he wouldn’t disturb Imogen and Samuel, who were laughing away as they played their game together. Harry pushed his bedroom door closed silently, taking a deep breath in and out as he rested his forehead against the cool wood of the door, grateful for these few minutes of solitude. They were few and far between these days, not that Harry truly minded.

He turned around and walked over to Louis’ drawers, pulling them open. He let his fingers run over the familiar fabrics of his husband’s clothes, wishing more than anything Louis was here to make a mess, to leave his dirty clothes all over the floor, for his smell to permeate everything around him. Harry picked up Louis’ bottle of cologne that had sat there since he’d last left, and he brought it up to his nose, sniffing the bottle, his brain firing off all sorts of memories the scent evoked from him. 

He gently put it back down in its place, gently touching the photo Louis had framed, the one that had been sitting there for the past eight or so years. It was a silly photo Louis had taken of the two of them on one of their first dates on some ancient phone, grainy and slightly blurred but it just added to its charm. Harry was leaning in, kissing Louis’ cheek while he was mid-laugh, and they looked so happy and carefree. Harry walked over to the bed then, laying on top of the covers that Harry had made that morning as he’d gotten out of bed, letting out a big sigh.

His eyes shut slowly as he felt the stress leave his body, laughing trickling down the corridor from his two oldest children. Harry’s hands were clasped over his belly, and he suddenly felt very tired, like he was finally letting himself relax for the first time in months. He felt a pang of guilt at realising his heavily pregnant sister was left looking after his family, but Harry’s legs and arms felt heavy, and he couldn’t move. He looked over to Louis’ side of the bed, cold and empty, unslept in since his last visit home, and it was that made Harry break.

The tears came quietly at first, slipping down Harry’s cheeks, soaking into his hair and the pillowcase underneath him. His chest heaved with his breaths, but as they overwhelmed him, Harry grabbed Louis’ pillow, muffling his sobs into that. It didn’t really smell of his husband anymore, like Louis had disappeared bit by bit, and it broke Harry’s heart as he cried into it, his heart breaking, just wanting Louis back. Back home where he belonged, with Harry, with their children. But Harry knew that was just too much to ask. Louis wasn’t coming home, at least, not this Christmas. Harry knew he was going to be surrounded by people on Christmas Day, but he had a feeling he was going to feel so alone anyway. He always felt more alone in a roomful of people somehow.

Hours later, Harry and Gemma were stood in the kitchen making Louis’ birthday cake for the following day, the children all fed, bathed and in bed upstairs. Excitement for Christmas was almost at fever pitch now, and add to that it being Louis’ birthday the next day, and it was almost too much for the four young Tomlinson’s. Thankfully, Gemma reminded the kids that Santa was watching, and if they wanted anything for Christmas, they had to behave and they’d taken heed, all quickly going to bed and dropping off in sheer exhaustion.

“What time’s Lou calling tomorrow?” Gemma asked, greasing a couple of cake tins while Harry mixed the batter thoroughly, the smell of chocolate wafting through the room. The oven was quietly preheating, and Harry was cleaning up as he went, keen to go to bed as soon as the cakes were cooked and out of the oven. He and the children would decorate it the following morning before Louis’ call.

“Uh, it’s usually around 11 or so our time. But we don’t know exactly, so I just wait for the phone to ring and then freak out,” he said with a laugh, Gemma smiling over at him. “I can’t wait, Gem. It’s not the same as seeing him, but god, just hearing his voice is so good. If it’s a video call then even better, but god, I am so fucking excited. Is that pathetic?”

“No, definitely not,” Gemma said, touching Harry’s shoulder gently. “He’s your husband, Harry, and he’s away at war. Of course you’d be excited to talk to him. I bet the kids can’t wait either.”

“Nope. I mean, Leo and Molly don’t have a clue really, but the older two love it. I can barely get a word in edgeways sometimes. But it’s lovely, hearing them chat to Lou, fill him in on their lives.”

Harry walked the bowl of cake mix over to the tins Gemma had prepared and divided it equally between them before sticking them in the oven, wincing as he was hit in the face with a blast of hot air. He and Gemma washed up the last few bits, and Harry groaned as he looked at the clock, seeing it was already gone ten.

“You’d better get home, Gem. Michal will be wondering why I’ve kidnapped my sister.”

“Nah, he knows I was helping you guys out tonight. He doesn’t mind. But I am knackered, so if you’re sure…”

“Of course,”  Harry replied, following her out into the hall, watching her squeeze her swollen feet into her shoes before he helped her into her coat. They hugged, and Gemma kissed his cheek, wishing him a good chat with Louis tomorrow before she hurried out into the cold and to her car, driving away, waving out of the window. Harry closed the door and locked it, going to sit at the kitchen table while he waited for the cake to finish cooking. He knew if he sat on the comfy sofa, he’d fall asleep. When the oven beeped, Harry slipped on his oven gloves and set them onto a cooling rack, more than ready for bed.

He changed, brushed his teeth, went to kiss each of his sleeping children and wish them sweet dreams, feeling grateful for his perfect family. He stripped and got into bed in his boxers, too hot and bothered to wear anything else. He kissed his wedding ring and whispered a goodnight to their photo as always before finally letting sleep claim him. Tomorrow, he’d hear his Louis’ voice again. Tomorrow would be a good day. 

*************

Louis

Evening of December 22nd

Louis yawned as he watched the streets of Paris whizz by through the window of his taxi, Christmas lights twinkling from where they were hung from lampposts, and as part of shop displays. There were people walking briskly down the streets, shopping bags in their hands stuffed to the brim, no doubt full of presents for their loved ones. Louis always used to be a last minute shopper himself, so he sympathised entirely with these harried looking people.

“Excuse-moi? We have arrived, sorry to wake you,” the young taxi driver said, and Louis smiled in embarrassment at having almost nodded off for a moment. He glanced up at the hotel he’d had booked for him thanks to his flight home being the following day, smiling at the sight of it. It wasn’t a big chain or anything fancy, just a small boutique hotel but it was warm and it was safe, and that was all Louis wanted at that moment.

“Merci, thank you so much. Merry Christmas,” Louis muttered as he handed over a few Euro’s to cover the fare, nodding his head at the young man before he stepped back, closing the door, his suitcase by his feet. He shuffled inside, a wall of warmth hitting him as he walked over to the reception desk. It was relatively quiet, gentle Christmas music playing in the background, fairy lights twinkling from a beautiful real Christmas tree stood against the wall. 

“Hello, welcome to Hotel Jules, do you have a reservation?” a young woman asked in heavily accented French, and Louis bit back another yawn, nodding.

“I do. Louis Tomlinson, a room for tonight?”

He stood quietly as the receptionist pulled up his reservation, taking payment and handing Louis an old fashioned silver key before directing him to the lift, and the third floor where his room was. The lift was quite small, and Louis smiled to himself at the thought Harry would hate it, not being a fan of small spaces at the best of times. Once he arrived at his floor, he walked down the carpeted corridor and slid his key into the lock, opening the door to his small but comfortable room, leaving his case by the door.

He’d just collapsed onto the bed when his phone rang, startling from his sleepy mindset for a moment when he saw it was a call from the Army Comms team who arranged all communications with the troops and their loved ones at home.

“Corporal Tomlinson speaking,” Louis answered, hearing a few clicks as the call went through, a rustle in the background before a gruff voice came down the line.

“Corporal, this is Officer Thomson. I am here to confirm that you wish to cancel the call between yourself and your listed contact Harry Tomlinson on December 24th 2019 at 1000 hours.”

Louis’ heart panged as he realised how devastated Harry would be to hear the news, but it was for the greater good. He nodded before realising the officer at the other end of the phone couldn’t see him, and he sat himself up to reply.

“Yes, that is correct. But, um, can you please reassure my husband when you call to cancel it that I’m not injured or anything? He’ll only worry, and my children don’t need that.”

“We can pass that request on to the Officer making the call,” the voice said again, and felt a rush of relief at that. “Thank you, Corporal.”

“Thank you, Merry Christ-”

Louis laughed to himself as the call was ended abruptly, and he was alone once more. Louis ached in every part of him, having been travelling for the past few days and he craved sleep. It was strange in a sense to be so close to home in a way, knowing Harry and his four beautiful children were just a short plane ride away, but for now, he had to bide his time and look forward to getting home.

He forced himself up from the bed for a moment, standing at the small window, looking over at the Parisian streets. His eye was caught by a couple strolling hand in hand, bobble hats atop their heads. They stopped in the middle of the street and kissed for a moment, and Louis’ heart ached at how he’d missed those moments with Harry for the past few years. He had a lot to make up for, and he couldn’t wait.

As the couple walked away again, Louis turned back and pulled the curtains shut behind him, plunging the room into near darkness. He stripped off the clothes he’d been in for days now, leaving himself in just his boxers as he climbed back into bed, underneath the thick blankets that had been piled there. Louis hated sleeping alone, but he was used to it after years of sleeping in barracks, in uncomfortable conditions, wishing you were half a world away from where you really were. The only thought running through his mind as he drifted off to sleep was of Harry’s face when he walked into their home in just a few days time, finally back where he belonged. 

December 23rd

“Here, let me help you,” Louis hurried to say, jogging up the steps to the shop and grabbing the front of the pushchair a harassed looking mother was struggling with, her toddler whining at her side. Louis walked backwards down the steps with it before he set it down on the floor, smiling at the baby inside, giving him a gummy grin. 

“ Merci, merci beaucoup ,” the woman said in a soft French lilt, resting her hand on top of her son’s head. “ Joyeux Noel. ”

Louis just stood and watched her walk away, the chilly December air whipping around his legs. As they disappeared from sight, Louis tugged his coat tighter to his body and headed off down the street, strolling slowly until his attention was stolen by a book shop. There was a beautiful display of Christmas books in the window and Louis hurried to get inside, knowing his eldest son Samuel would love them.

The shop was warm and inviting, and Louis moved through to the back where the children’s department was. Of course, the majority of the books were in French but there was a small bookcase containing English language books, and Louis looked at the spines, trying to decide what he liked. He felt a bit awkward as he realised with a start he didn’t actually know how good Samuel’s reading was at the moment, so he sighed and left empty handed,walking away from the shop with a heavy heart.

He managed to buy Molly a beautiful stuffed unicorn he knew his youngest daughter would love from a more traditional toy shop, and a beautiful soft knitted scarf for Imogen from a boutique, but he hated that he felt he didn’t know his children well enough to buy them gifts that would perfectly suit their tastes. Harry, though… that was easy. Louis knew his husband more than he knew himself at times, and he already had an idea about what he wanted to buy Harry, knowing Harry wasn’t necessarily a man for material things but Louis was desperate to have something to give his husband on Christmas morning.

As he continued walking around Paris, Louis ended up buying more boxes of chocolate for his Mum and Anne, and a selection of French sweets for his little sister. He got Gemma a beautiful snow globe, and Michal a silk tie he felt would suit his brother-in-law. Leo and Samuel were still a bit of a mystery, but Louis kept an open mind as he hummed along with the music he could hear from the end of the street. He paused in front of a young violinist, mesmerised by how quickly her fingers moved on the strings on the fingerboard, the beautiful music emanating from her instrument. He threw a few Euros into her case before he headed off, spotting another small toy shop in the distance.

The noise from the children inside was almost too loud to bear, excited little voices babbling in French to their parents, perhaps begging them for toys, or hoping that Father Christmas would deliver a treasured item in just a few days time. Louis smiled a man with a sleeping baby strapped to his chest in a baby carrier, an excitable little girl tugging on his hand to get his attention, pointing happily up to a dolly on the shelf.

Louis stopped in front of a display of trains, knowing Leo had a collection in his bedroom that he loved and dragged out at any opportunity. There was a wooden steam train sat towards the back of the display and Louis reached out, lifting it up and inspecting it carefully. It was perhaps something for an older child, but somehow, Louis knew his little boy would love it, and the brightly coloured paintwork. He held onto it and moved to the till, paying for it, taking the paper bag from the assistant with a smile.

The day was getting on, and Louis was almost ready to get a taxi back to the hotel when he spotted a jewellery shop nestled in a side street, hidden away. There were twinkling lights all around the window, and Louis’ eyes lit up as he looked over the display of jewellery set inside the window, spotting something he knew his husband would adore. Louis carefully pushed his way into the shop, the little bell above the door ringing, causing an older woman to come to the counter, smiling softly at him.

“ Bienvenue, comment puis-je vous aider aujourd'hui? ”

“Uh, Anglais?”

“Ah, yes of course. May I help you?”

“Please, there’s a ring in the window that I’d like to see? It’s on the bottom stand, a filigree ring?”

She nodded and slid open the glass, reaching inside and plucking out the stand, setting it down in front of Louis. He pointed to the ring he saw for Harry and the woman took it off its stand, handing it to Louis.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed out, turning the ring this way and that, admiring the carving into the gold, the small stone set on the top. It was unique, exactly the sort of thing Harry would wear and treasure, and Louis knew he had to buy it. He could imagine Harry’s face when he opened it, seeing the ring and then how it would look on his finger. He slid it onto his own index finger, the ring fitting perfectly which meant it would also fit his husband’s third finger, Harry’s hands larger than his own.

" Pour quelqu'un de spécial? Uh, how you say... for someone special?”

Louis nodded, handing the woman back the ring, watching as she pushed it into the pillow inside a rich purple velvet box.

“My husband. He’s been amazing for the past eight years, he’s been home raising our children on his own while I’ve been deployed…”

Louis fumbled in his pocket for his phone, seeing the woman’s eyes light up at the mention of his children. He opened one of his photo albums and turned it around, showing off a photo of Harry and their kids at the park last summer, all laid out on the grass, squinting up at Zayn’s camera. Molly was a tiny newborn asleep under a parasol, but other than that, things looked pretty much how Louis imagined them to be when he walked into their home in a few days time.

“Oh, what a beautiful family! How old…” she pointed to the screen, and Louis’ heart swelled with pride.

“Uh, Harry’s my husband, our eldest is Immy, she’s eight. Samuel, there, he’s six, and our other son is Leo, he’s three and a terror. Then my littlest is Molly, she’s six months. I, uh, I’m seeing her for the first time on Christmas day.”

The woman visibly teared up and rested a hand on Louis’ forearm. “Wonderful. So much love in one photo.”

Louis nodded, blinking back a few tears as he closed down the photo, already feeling too emotional by the mere mention of his husband and children again. It didn’t bode well for holding himself together when he arrived home, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be the only one who would be falling apart.

“May I take you to pay?”

The bags that were leaning against his leg were left there as he shuffled over to the till, getting his wallet out of his back pocket. As he stood there, waiting for the older woman to bag up his purchase, he spotted something else in a tall cabinet just behind the till. It was an ornate looking music box, something you might store jewellery in, and Louis couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Can I see that? The golden music box?”

“That?” she asked, pointing in the direction of the cabinet. Louis just nodded, watching with eager eyes as she carefully lifted it out, bringing it over and setting it down carefully. Louis could see it was heavy enough, solid and well made, but it was utterly perfect. Harry loved things that were a bit different from the norm, and this would be perfect to house all of his precious jewellery from Louis. It would be a pain to get home, Louis knew that, but come hell or high water, he was taking that music box home to Harry. “The key… it goes here.”

“I, um, I don’t want to play it. I’d like my husband to do that, if that’s okay? But I’ll take it please, the ring and the music box.”

Louis paid on his card, spending a small fortune but he reasoned that his husband was entirely worth every single penny. The box was too heavy to carry, so Louis called for a taxi, waiting outside the shop until the car pulled up, and he slid into the back seat, pleased that he’d got gifts for everyone except Samuel. He was sure he could find something for his son before left Paris the following morning. He arrived back at the hotel, lumbering towards the lifts with his bags hanging from his red fingers, sore from bearing the weight of the bags now, and Louis yawned, leaning against the wall of the lift as he stepped inside.

Just as he arrived back in his room, Louis had a message from his best friend back home, Zayn, checking that things were on schedule for Louis to come back home as they’d planned. Louis quickly hurried downstairs to the payphone in the lobby and called him, confirming that yes, things were on track and told him excitedly about all the gifts he’d bought for the kids. Afterwards, Louis went back upstairs and took a shower, indulging in the lovely bath products the hotel had provided, his skin buzzing with the anticipation of being home soon. The days were flying by, and Louis couldn’t believe that in a matter of days, he’d be back where he belonged.

Sleep, however, proved hard to come by when he got into bed later on. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling in the darkness of the room, unable to settle his mind. For some reason, Louis kept thinking of all the ways his journey home could go wrong, and he also couldn’t stop thinking about Harry getting a call tomorrow saying he wouldn’t talk to Louis. He felt bad about it, so much so that his stomach was churning but there was nothing he could do about it now. 

The alarm clock on the bedside table beeped softly, and Louis looked over, smiling slightly at the red display that read 00:00. That meant only one thing. He was a year older, now twenty nine years old, and he wasn’t sure he liked being so close to the big three-oh.

“Happy birthday to me,” he whispered, letting his eyes and sleep finally overcome him. 

December 24th

Harry

Harry smiled fondly at the sight of his son sat at the kitchen table, his tongue poking out more and more between his teeth as he clenched his hand around his pencil, carefully writing his name. Leo had always wanted to be like his big brother and sister, and he’d been writing his name for a few months now. He added a wobbly kiss under the picture he’d drawn for Louis to show him on the call, and turned around, proudly holding it up to Harry with a big grin.

“Will Papa like it?”

“He will love it,” Harry grinned back, leaning over to ruffle his son’s sandy hair. “Why don’t you go and put it on the table in the living room, love? Then we know where it is for when Papa calls later on.”

Leo nodded and ran off, his bare feet slapping on the kitchen tiles, and Harry could then hear distant chatter, Leo no doubt bending his big brother’s ear about something or other. Harry yawned and stretched out his back for a moment before he started to gather things together for their usual morning pancakes. Whenever the children weren’t at school, Harry liked to spoil them with their favourite breakfast, and there wasn’t a year they hadn’t had pancakes on Louis’ birthday.

Soon enough, Harry had chopped up three lots of pancakes onto festive melamine plates and set them around the table, leaving Imogen’s whole as she liked to tell whoever would listen that she was a big girl now, and was more than capable of doing things like cutting up her food herself. 

“Kids! Pancakes are ready!”

There was a shriek and then a stampede of footsteps as his three older children thundered towards the kitchen, Imogen a little slower with her baby sister in her arms. Harry took her and popped her into her high chair while Leo wriggled into his booster seat next to Samuel. Harry sat down next to Molly and laid a few pieces of pancake on her tray table, watching her grab it eagerly in her fist, squishing it for all it was worth as the other three kids tucked in eagerly with a little more decorum.

“Daddy, do we have blueberries?”

“Ah, I knew I forgot something!” Harry said, jumping to his feet and grabbing the packet they’d bought at the shop the day before. He sprinkled a few on Samuel’s plate before offering them around, both Leo and Imogen taking a few too. He started eating his own lukewarm food then, sipping his tea as everyone ate, filling up their hungry tummies. Harry was wiping Molly’s mouth when the home phone rang out loudly, making everyone gasp. He stood up, heading to where the handset was in the living room and cleared his throat, too aware his voice was raspy and deeper than normal in the mornings.

“Hello?”

“Is this Harry Tomlinson?”

Harry swallowed nervously, feeling shivers run down his spine at the voice on the other end of the line.

“Yes, speaking. Can I ask who is calling?”

“This is Officer Kendrick from the Royal Third Battalion regarding the communications call scheduled for today with Corporal Louis Tomlinson?”

Harry felt himself start to shake as he lowered himself to the sofa, already dreading the news he was going to hear. He nodded and licked his lips, willing his voice to keep steady as he lowered it slightly, not wanting his children to hear any part of this call. This wasn’t usually how it went down, and Harry was starting to worry.

“Yes, it’s scheduled at some point today… is there a problem?”

“Unfortunately, the call has been put on indefinite hold. Corporal Tomlinson is unable to make the communication as scheduled.”

“Oh my god-”  Harry’s hands were trembling now, and his eyes were glassy with unshed tears, already imagining the worst. “Is he- please tell me he’s okay- it’s his birthday, and our kids are-”

“Corporal Tomlinson is alive and well, please do not worry. He is just unable to make the call today, and cannot say when the call can be rescheduled for. Apologies for this news today.”

“Uh, ‘s’okay, I, um, thanks. Goodbye.”

Harry didn’t bother to wait to hear anymore, and he bit down hard on his bottom lip as he ended the call, desperately trying to hold back his tears. He blinked, brushing away an errant tear with the back of his hand, hoping his eyes weren’t too red rimmed as he heard raised voices, Leo getting a little feisty, just like his Papa did over the silliest things. Harry got to his feet and took a few deep breaths, plastering a smile on his face as he walked back into the kitchen, all the children finished eating by now. Harry couldn’t bring himself to eat another morsel.

“Daddy, Leo said he wants to stay in our room alone and play trains, but it’s my room too, and I want to read…”

“No! Boring books, I want TRAINS!”

“Leo, no yelling indoors,” Harry said, suddenly feeling very weary. “Um, kids. I have to tell you something.”

Imogen’s eyes widened, and Harry realised she had a maturity beyond her years, probably brought on by spending her whole life used to her Papa leaving her for deployment, and Harry wished he could shield from the worst of it, that things could be much more simple than they were right now. As he sat down in his chair, Samuel got up and walked around, hopping into Harry’s lap as he started to speak, as if he sensed Harry needed some comfort to help him get the words out.

“I know we were going to talk to Papa today, but… on the phone… that was his friends in the Army. They said, uh, sadly Papa’s really busy and he’s not going to be able to call us today. He's really sorry and feels bad about it, but that’s his job, and sometimes plans have to change-”

Harry was cut off as Imogen’s chair scraped loudly against the floor as she pushed back from the table, running away, her small feet making a loud noise on the steps. Samuel just buried his head into Harry’s neck, and Leo just looked confused, his little eyebrows furrowed. Luckily, the whole thing passed Molly by, and she just kept mushing her pancake between her hideously sticky fingers.

“Sammy, will you take your brother and watch him for a sec, I need to go and find Immy.”

He kissed Samuel’s head before the boy slid off his lap, taking Leo’s hand and walking with him to the sitting room, chatting quietly. Harry picked up Molly and took her to the sink, rinsing her fingers under the warm water before he headed off, setting her in her crib for a few minutes, needing to be alone with Imogen. He paused outside her bedroom door for a moment, taking a breath before he knocked, stepping just inside onto the pale pink carpet.

“Love?”

“Go away!”

Harry sighed and walked further in, knowing that despite his daughter’s words, she didn’t really want him to leave. It was her way of coping with upset, and he sat gingerly on the edge of her mattress, stroking her back for a moment, giving her a few seconds to compose herself. As predicted, she soon rolled over, tears tumbling down her red cheeks as she stared up at her dad, clearly needing answers.

“Why can’t he call? Is he hurt? I’m a big girl, you can tell me-”

“No! No, he really isn’t, sweetheart. I asked the man on the phone, and he promised Papa was just busy with work. I know it’s really sad, and I don’t like it either, but there’s nothing we can do to change it, I’m afraid.”

“But… what about Papa’s cake we maked him? 

 “Well, we can still do the candles and things like we were going to,” Harry said softly as Imogen got up, clambering onto Harry’s lap, resting her head against his chest. “I can video it, and we can send it to Papa at some point. You know he’ll love to watch it when he’s home. Nothing has to change too much, love. I know it’s sad, and you miss Papa so much, but he wouldn’t want to see your beautiful face sad, would he?”

Imogen shook her head, grabbing a handful of Harry’s shirt and wiping her face on it. Harry tried not to grimace at the trail of tears and snot she left behind, stroking her hair back from her face. 

“We still going to see Santa?”

Harry grinned and nodded, despite himself. It was a tradition that every year, he took the children to see Santa at the local garden centre, where they created a winter wonderland of sorts for the visiting children. Last year, Harry had been heavily pregnant, and Leo had been a menace, into touching everything so Harry had recruited his mother in law for this years trip. One day, he held out hope Louis would be able to do this trip with him.

“Of course we are! Nanny Jay is going to be here soon, and your aunties. It’s going to be a fun afternoon, darling. You alright now?”

She nodded again, leaning up to kiss Harry’s cheek quickly. She ran across the room to her wardrobe, rummaging around before she pulled out the Christmas dress Harry hadn’t been able to resist buying her a few weeks ago.

“Can I wear this? I want to look pretty.”

“You always do, Ims. But of course you can. I’d better go and get your sister before she starts wailing, but are you alright now?”

“Yeah. Thanks Daddy. Will you plait my hair for me downstairs?”

“Definitely,” Harry called, walking out of the room and towards his littlest baby girl, already picturing the perfect outfit to put her in for her first meeting with the man in red.

*

“Leo, will you stand still for just five minutes?”

“Harry, let us worry about him, okay?”

Harry felt grateful for his mother in law as she rested her hand on his forearm, trying to calm him down a little. He nodded, watching as Lottie swooped in, crouching down next to Leo and distracting him with something on her phone for a moment. Imogen was happily chatting to Félicité and Molly was in the pushchair, a little overwhelmed by the noise and the bright twinkling lights all around her.

“Yeah, okay, sorry, it’s just… today’s a lot, you know?”

“I do know. I miss Lou too. But he wouldn’t want this to ruin your day. You won’t get these moments back, love, try to enjoy them, okay?”

“Thanks Jay. Sorry, Sam, what’s that?”

“I asked if I could please hold Leo’s hand when we go to talk to Santa? I don’t want him to be scared.”

Harry’s heart melted at the kind gesture from his son and he nodded, the little boy soon falling quiet again, just watching everything going on around him as he often did. Harry knew Samuel reminded his mum so much of himself when he was a little boy, and he always felt that in some way, he and Samuel shared a special connection. Harry rocked the pushchair back and forth slightly, trying to keep his baby girl quiet for a few moments. There was only one other family in front of the Tomlinsons now, and Harry was already excited to see the photo they’d get this year.

“My turn!” Leo screeched as the family in front slowly made their way over to Santa, chatting eagerly.

“Not yet, love. When those people are done. But you can’t scream at Santa, okay? We don’t want to worry him today, he’s got a very busy night ahead of him.”

Leo’s face fell serious for a moment and he looked around for his brother, running over to Samuel in his little brown boots, holding his brother’s hand as he ripped his hat from his head, handing it over to Harry who popped it under the buggy.

“Okay, next family, please!”

Harry gathered his brood and walked forward, smiling as Imogen led the way, her little brother’s in her wake. Jay took the handles of the pushchair as Harry lifted Molly out, following hot on the heels of his children who were all gabbling excitedly now. He just chuckled as the man playing Santa shushed them with practiced ease, turning to Leo first who was practically chomping at the bit to talk to Santa himself.

“And what’s your name?” the man asked, reaching out to shake Leo’s hand, the little boy’s cheeks flaring red as he did so.

“Leo,” he said in a voice quieter than Harry had ever heard it. He then concentrated on holding up a few fingers before he spoke again. “I’m three.”

“Well, hello Leo. And this must be your brother and sister.”

“That’s Sam, and Immy. Daddy’s got Molly.”

“Well, lucky you for having such a lovely family. What are you all wanting for Christmas?”

They all spoke over each other, and Harry felt relieved as he listened to their answers, proud that he’d gotten most of the things they were asking for. He didn’t spoil his children by any means, but Louis left them more than comfortable financially at home, and during their last conversation the previous month, he’d told Harry to buy what he wanted for their kids, and Harry certainly had done that.

“Right, picture time! Can the big children stand either side of Santa, and then the little one in front, and the baby too?”

Harry nodded and passed Molly to Santa, his daughter staring wide eyed up at the bearded man now, but he tickled her under the chin, drawing a gorgeous grin from her. Harry stepped out of shot, taking a few snaps on his phone before Jay ushered him into the photo. He stood behind Imogen, a hand on her shoulder as he grinned at the camera, ignoring the ache in his heart that someone was missing from this photo, no matter how happy they all looked on the outside.

“Come on then, loves, say thank you to Santa!”

“Thanks, Santa!” Leo yelled, making the other parents in the queue smile fondly at him while Samuel and Imogen gave their own more quiet thanks and goodbyes.

“Uh, Santa…”

Harry turned as he set Molly into her pushchair, pulling her straps across her chest, seeing Imogen talking quietly to Santa, who had a serious expression on his face as he listened intently, taking in every word the little girl was saying to him. Jay nodded as Harry wandered over, keen to hear what she was saying.

“...don’t care if I don’t get presents, but my brothers and sister probably need some. I don’t, though. I just want my Papa to be safe and okay. That’s all I want.”

“That’s a lovely Christmas wish,” Santa said, and Harry swore he saw his eyes shining in a way they hadn’t before. “I’ll make sure to keep it here.” He tapped his gloved hand on his heart, and Harry swallowed down the lump in his throat as Imogen threw her arms around Santa’s neck, quickly hugging him. “Merry Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, Santa. I hope you don’t get too cold tonight on your sleigh!”

She skipped over to Harry, and he chose not to bring up his daughter’s wish with her. It was obviously only meant for Santa’s ears, and she seemed a little happier now, chattering away about what they were going to do when they got home.

In the end, it was a few hours before they managed to do what they’d planned. Molly had dozed off in the car on the short journey home, and Harry had been adamant they couldn’t film the video without her present. Lottie had painted Imogen’s nails, while Fizzy had patiently played trains with Leo and Samuel as Molly napped, and Harry tidied up a bit, Jay helping with running the hoover around quickly. When Molly had finally woken, Imogen and Samuel had insisted on helping Jay get the cake ready while Harry had changed Molly into her new festive jumper and bright red leggings, looking perfectly Christmassy and ready for her video debut for Louis. He wandered downstairs, his baby girl on his hip and into the kitchen, finding his other three children already sat at the table.

“Oh,we’re all ready, are we?”

“Yes, hurry up, Daddy!” Leo banged his palms on the table in sheer excitement and Harry walked over, sitting down with Molly on one leg, pulling Leo onto the other. “Wanna sing now!”

Lottie stood opposite the family as Félicité lit the birthday candles dotted all over the chocolate icing surface of Louis’ cake, and she quickly stepped aside, leaving just Harry and his children in the frame of the camera which was pointed at them all now.

“Okay guys, ready? And three, two, one…”

Harry and his children sang a rousing, if a little out of tune, version of Happy Birthday to the camera, and Harry sat back enough to let Samuel, Imogen and Leo blow out the candles, clapping gleefully when they went out, tendrils of smoke rising up to the ceiling. It was quiet for a moment until Samuel spoke up, looking shy with each word that came from his lips.

“Happy birthday, Papa. You’re the best Papa in the whole world, and I wish you were home for your birthday cake and cuddles.”

“Happy birthday, Papa! I love you!” Leo said, giggling as he poked his finger into the icing, quickly sucking it between his lips hungrily.

“We love you, Lou. Happy birthday sweetheart, another year older and another year more perfect. I love you, see you soon, my love!”

Harry blew a kiss to the camera and turned to Imogen, but the little girl shook her head, refraining from speaking. She just waved instead, and they all shouted bye again before Lottie moved the camera down, telling everyone she was done. Jay took charge, slicing up the cake and dishing out a piece to everyone, and they sat wherever they could, complimenting Harry on his baking skills as they ate.

It was hours later that Harry was finally alone. Imogen, Samuel and Leo were now in their Christmas pyjamas, sound asleep in their own beds, excited for what the next day would bring. They’d left mince pies and a cup of milk for Santa in the kitchen, along with a selection of carrots that Leo had handpicked, only picking the “nice ones” from the bag Harry had got from Tesco. Molly was awake for her last bottle of the day, and Harry sat curled on the sofa as he fed her, the baby nestled in his lap as the telly played Die Hard in the background. Harry loved the movie really, and he was grateful his daughter didn’t understand the “yippee kay-ay, Mother fucker!” coming from the telly.

“You gonna stay down here with Dada, hmm?” Harry asked as he burped her, yawning a little. He was exhausted after a busy and emotional day, and while he was tired, he was grateful he hadn’t had time to dwell on Louis’ missed phone call, knowing he would only have got more maudlin as the day went on if he had done. She babbled up at him as Harry set her in her chair, and he walked to the understairs cupboard which housed the hoover and other bits and bobs, tugging out the black sack of things he’d yet to wrap.

The rolls of wrapping paper littered the floor as Harry worked tirelessly, his back aching from being hunched over on the carpet, but it had to be done. Thankfully, he’d done most of it but as usual, there were a few last minute bits that he hadn’t got around to. Molly was quiet as she watched, not understanding the whole concept yet but she just stared at her Daddy, Harry pulling the occasional silly face at her to make her laugh. 

When they’d first got together, Louis and Harry had loved spending Christmas Eve together, staying up late to watch movies while they wrapped up the gifts for their families before making love in the early hours, wrapped up in each other. Now, though, everything was different, and Harry was left doing these jobs alone, just longing for Louis to be sat beside him, moaning about how he couldn’t wrap a particular toy, getting tape twisted and stuck everywhere it shouldn’t be, eventually abandoning his task and leaving Harry to it, not that he ever minded. 

When he was done, Harry arranged the presents into four piles. He’d purposely picked the wrapping paper so it suited each of his children, and the piles looked good once they were ready, sat in front of the tree and glistening in the glow of the fairy lights sparkling amongst the branches of the tree. He snapped a few photos, and by the time he was ready to head for bed, Molly was sound asleep, her lips parted as she sucked on an imaginary bottle, fists clenched either side of her head.

Harry gently lifted her into his arms, kissing her forehead as he flicked off all the lights, excitement buzzing in his tummy now at the anticipation of what was going to happen the following day when his children woke him at some godforsaken hour. He laid her into her cot and covered her with her blankets, flicking on her nightlight before he left the room, checking on his other children before he finally got into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

He couldn’t resist opening one of Louis’ drawers, rummaging through his husband’s folded clothes. He picked a t-shirt he knew Louis didn’t wear anymore and he took off his own clothes before pulling it over his head, smiling down at how baggy and stretched out it was. It was a t-shirt he’d stolen when he was around six months pregnant with Leo and very uncomfortable. Despite his belly aching, Harry had tugged Louis’ tight t-shirt around his sizeable bump, and Louis had just kissed him softly, rubbing his bump over the fabric of his stretched top.

Harry was well aware he’d never get his pre-baby body again, his belly too soft and hips too curvy for that, but he didn’t mind. His body had been the home for his four children, and Louis had loved every second of his pregnancies, admiring every inch of Harry’s pregnant body, worshipping him and taking care of him as best he could when he was around. Harry did miss being pregnant, but right now, he made do with his memories as he slipped into bed, alone again.

It was at moments like this when Harry felt how acutely lonely he was. He had his children who were his world, but he missed his husband so much it hurt. He missed the late night chats he had with Louis into the night about absolutely nothing, talking nonsense until the sun began to rise again, learning each others bodies with excited, nervous hands, and eager lips.

Harry’s eyes burned with tears as he burrowed down under the covers, the only light seeping in under the curtains from the street lights outside. The house was entirely quiet, and Harry even missed the low hum of Louis’ snores as he lay beside him, their bodies usually touching in some way, even just the sole of a foot against a calf. They’d always been tactile, and Harry would be the first to admit he missed the intimacy and easy affection he and Louis had together. Sex, he could go without, but he found it hard to be without Louis’ cuddles and kisses.

He sniffed, letting his tears silently fall now, absorbed by the soft cotton of the pillow. He played gently with his wedding ring, trying to keep his sobs as silent as possible so he wouldn’t wake his children. His chest ached, his throat felt like it was painful from holding back his tears, but most of all, his heart was broken. Although he’d been told Louis was okay, some part of him deep inside was scared. He had frequent nightmares about getting the dreaded call or visit telling him Louis had been in a fatal accident, or had been shot or had stepped on a shell, being given the news Louis would never be coming home again.

It was in dark moments like this that Harry let the darkness take over him. It might be almost Christmas in a matter of moments, but Harry had never felt more alone or sad, knowing the one thing he wanted the most in the world would never come true. He only had to hope Louis would return home in a few months to where he belonged. That was the only hope he had left to cling to.

************* 

Louis

“ Mesdames et messieurs, nous avons le regret de vous annoncer que le vol BA223 en direction de Londres sera de nouveau retardé pour raisons météorologiques. Nous vous prions de nous excuser pour la gêne occasionnée, et vous invitons à vous rapprocher de votre compagnie aérienne pour plus d'informations. Ladies and gentlemen, we apologise and regret to announce that flight BA223 to London has been delayed by a further five hours due to poor weather conditions in London. Please seek assistance from your flight operator. Many thanks, and Merry Christmas.”

Louis groaned and sighed as he realised he was now going to miss the car he’d booked at Heathrow to drive him the further three hours home to Manchester, and to his family. He’d also lost the cost of the car, but really, this wasn’t his main worry. He was fearful that if the flight was delayed again, he’d miss Christmas, and that just wasn’t something he wanted to entertain.

He got to his feet and walked over to the British Airways desk, joining the back of the queue of irate passengers, all eager to get home for the festive season. Louis’ back ached, and his head was pounding with an imminent headache but he stood, waiting his turn, patient as always. Years of being in less than hospitable places had taught him patience beyond that which most people held, and Louis just subtly watched everyone around him, a keen people watcher.

He fiddled with his wedding ring as he waited, thoughts of what Harry and their children might be up to right now. A glance at the clock revealed it was two o’clock in the afternoon, which meant around lunchtime back home, and he could imagine Harry preparing their children some sandwiches, Christmas music playing in the background in the kitchen as they ate together, chatting about the excitement of the impending Christmas day. He missed home more than ever, especially since he was so close he could practically smell home, and it was almost a tease to be so close and yet so far.

“No! It’s just ridiculous, you can’t fucking do this! It’s Christmas, and I want to get home!”

The crowds around fell silent as the irate man at the front continued to yell at the woman in uniform who was desperately trying to pacify him. Louis stood up slightly straighter, wondering what to do as the argument raged on, garnering more attention.

“Please Sir, I assure you we are-”

“Don’t give me your useless platitudes, just fucking get me home to my wife!”

He slammed his fists down on the counter, and the woman stood there visibly flinched and took a step back, cowering as the man continued to yell, red cheeked and incredibly angry looking by now. Louis had had enough and couldn’t just stand by and watch anymore.

“Hey, mate, can I have a word over here?”

“Fuck off,” the man spat out, shrugging off Louis’ hand that he’d laid on his shoulder, but Louis was prepared for that. He gripped on tighter, giving the man a look he knew was hard to ignore after years of honing it to perfection in the Army.

“I wasn’t asking. Over here, now.”

Somehow, the man complied, and there was an audible hum of relief in the air as Louis escorted the man to a small bank of chairs off to the side, trying to maintain an air of authority as a security guard hovered nearby, watching it unfold.

“Listen. I understand you want to get home, mate. We all do. But there’s no need to take it out on the staff, okay? They’re just doing their jobs, and you were unnecessarily rude and aggressive-”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? What would you know about needing to get home, huh?”

“More than you know. I’ve got a husband and four kids waiting for me, so I get it. But you don’t see me being a cocky shit, do you? I’m just waiting to talk to them politely.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve had enough, this place is hell on earth-”

“You’ve got no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” Louis spat out, getting angry by now. “I’ve been to places that actually are hell on earth, during fucking war, mate. So don’t pretend in this warm and safe airport that you’re in any sort of danger. Suck it up and be patient like the rest of us.”

The man opposite Louis looked a little shocked at Louis’ revelation and he nodded, the pair of them soon approaching the desk again. Louis folded his arms over his torso and nodded, indicating it was the man’s turn to apologise.

“I, uh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, this gentleman has made it clear to me how I behaved wasn’t okay.”

“Well, thank you. I can assure you the next flight is still scheduled, we are trying our best to get you all home for Christmas, Sir.”

The man and the woman finished up their conversation, and as they did so, Louis drifted away, not needing to hear anymore. He sank back into a chair, his suitcase by his feet, another bulging bag full of gifts beside it. He’d had to pay an excess baggage charge for it but he didn’t care. Right now, getting home to Harry and his children were his priority, and he wanted to stay as calm as he could, knowing getting worked up wouldn’t get him anywhere. He just had to bide his time and be patient, and hope that he’d be home for Christmas.

*

“On behalf of all of the crew on board, we’d like to thank you for your patience today, and for flying with British Airways. We wish you a safe onward journey, and a very Merry Christmas.”

There was a light smattering of applause around the cabin then, and people started getting to their feet, eager to disembark and hurry home to the people waiting for them. Louis had called Zayn just before they’d taken off, begging him to come and collect him despite the late hour, and the fact it was still Christmas Eve. Zayn, being the amazing person he was, had agreed, and had set off, no doubt still on his way from Manchester to London.

Louis waited until the majority of people had left before he stood up, reaching for his baggage down from the overhead locker, helping out an older woman next to him too before he trundled down the aisle, wishing the crew Merry Christmas as he headed into the terminal. He went through Immigration with his passport, and stood in arrivals, eyes raking around for any sign of Zayn. There was none, so Louis sighed and walked across the tiled floor, trying to ignore the excited screams and squeals from reunited families all around.

There was a spare seat next to a young woman, but Louis ignored it, wandering over to the bank of payphones to make a call to Zayn to check he was on track. He couldn’t risk switching on his phone and Harry finding out he was in the UK just yet.

“Hey, mate.”

“ Oh, so you’ve landed then? I’m about half an hour out, traffic’s pretty quiet so hopefully won’t be long. Flight okay?”

“Yeah, it was alright. I’m just knackered. I can’t believe it’s going to be gone midnight by the time I get home.”

“I’m coming, Lou. Just sit down and wait, yeah? We’ll stop and grab a milkshake or a coffee or something on the way, keep you awake.”

“Sounds good,” Louis chuckled, rolling his shoulders, aching everywhere by now. “I’ll see you soon mate.”

Zayn muttered his goodbyes down the line, and Louis was alone again. He picked up his bags and walked over to the seats, smiling down at the woman sat there, flicking through a magazine, her long legs crossed.

“Hi, do you mind if I sit here?”

“Not at all,” she said, smiling back at him, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. She shuffled over, refolding her legs, rolling her ankle in a circle. Louis could already tell she was flirting with him, so he smiled politely, sitting down and taking his book out of his bag, trying to keep his attention on the pages in front of him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be that easy. “So, where are you heading back to then?”

“Home. I’ve, uh, I’ve been deployed in Somalia for nearly a year, and it’s finally time to come home.”

“Oh, you’re a soldier? I do love a man in uniform,” the woman purred, turning her body to face Louis’, the magazine now forgotten on her lap. “How long have you served?”

“I joined the army when I was nineteen, so roughly ten years.”

Louis tried to shut down the conversation but it appeared the woman wasn’t to be stopped, leaning her on the back of the seat behind her.

“You must be pretty strong and brave, then. Where are you from?”

“Doncaster, originally, but we live in Manchester now.”

Louis could see the woman’s face fall at the mention of a “we” and he knew she was going to ask more.

“We? You have a special someone waiting for you at home?”

“I have five special people,” Louis admitted, abandoning his book and just hoping Zayn would turn up sooner rather than later. It felt great to finally be back on British soil, but it wasn’t close enough, not yet. “My husband and our children are back up in Manchester. They don’t know I’m coming, though, I’m here to surprise them for Christmas.”

The woman gasped, bringing her hand to cover her mouth, her red fingernails shining in the bright lights of the terminal. 

“Oh my goodness, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard! I can’t believe you didn’t tell your husband you’re coming home, wow! What’s his name?”

“Harry. Love of my life, quite honestly. Not sure how we’ve survived so long apart, but I can’t do it anymore. Our littlest is just six months old, and I don’t want to miss anymore of them all growing up.”

“Gosh, I wish I could see his face when you walk in the door. It’s a shame it’s such a long drive back home for you. Tell me more about your children? My brother has three kids, and I’m going to spend Christmas with them all…”

Louis didn’t need any excuse, and he rabbitted away for the next half an hour, showing off the few photos he had in his wallet, regaling tales of his children, his marriage, and everything in between. Now she’d realised Louis was taken and very much not interested in her in any romantic way, the woman, Melissa she’d told Louis, was actually lovely, and cooed over his photos, jumping in with her own about her three nieces and nephews. 

“Tommo!”

A few people turned to stare as the yelled voice drew people’s attention, and Louis grinned, standing up as Zayn barrelled his way over, his hair a mess and looking exhausted but Louis’ heart sang with the sight of his best friend for the first time in nearly a year.

“Z, so good to see you,” Louis mumbled as he pulled Zayn into a tight hug, the men embracing for a minute or so, neither of them keen to part. “Thank you so much for this, I’m sorry to do this on Christmas Eve-”

“Don’t. Don’t apologise, Lou. There’s no way I wouldn’t do this for you, I don’t care what day it is. Let’s go, yeah?”

Louis nodded and turned to gather his things, smiling at Melissa who was watching the pair of men by now.

“Merry Christmas, love. I hope you get home soon.”

“You too. Enjoy your Christmas time with your family. Bye, Louis.”

Zayn and Louis headed out, Zayn’s car parked in the pick up area. It was freezing and Louis shivered as they practically ran to the car, shoving Louis’ things in to the backseat. They climbed into the front seats and Zayn started the engine of his BMW, firing up the heating as he did so. Louis was trembling and he held his hands up to the air vents, warming them as Zayn joined the line of traffic pulling away from the airport, heading to their homes.

Louis stayed quiet as Zayn followed the instructions on his phone getting them onto the motorway. He watched the familiar surroundings pass him by, having flown out from London enough that the airport and its location were familiar to him. The radio played softly in the background, Christmas music no doubt on an automatic run, the DJs all at home with their families given the late hour of the day. Louis bit back a yawn, settling into his seat as Zayn drove effortlessly.

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, Zayn was shaking him awake, the car now still and pulled up in a layby. Louis cringed, his neck twinging from having slept an awkward angle for a few hours, and he felt horribly guilty at having left Zayn alone for the past few hours as he drove him home.

“Listen, Lou. We’re near Altrincham, so it’s about another half hour until we’re at yours. But look, it’s gone midnight already, and the kids and Harry will probably be long asleep. You’re dead on your feet as well, and I’m pretty sure this isn’t how you want it to go down when you see them again.”

Thanks to his tiredness, Zayn’s suggestion sent Louis’ emotions all over the place, and he could feel his eyes stinging with tears, shaking his head as if to ward them away. “I… shit, Z.”

“I know it sucks, Lou. But I’ve text Niall and he’s happy for you to crash there. Then he can take you home in the morning to see the kids. I know you must hate me for this-”

“No, not at all. I mean, I want to see Harry and the kids, but you’re right, it’s too late. I want it to be special, Z, a moment none of us will forget. Let’s go to Niall’s.”

Zayn nodded and started the engine again, indicating and pulling out onto the empty roads. All they could see were the glows from the street lamps and the twinkle of Christmas lights both inside and outside people’s homes. Louis wondered how Harry had decorated their home, where he’d put the tree, if the children had helped. He wondered if the outside decorations were up, if the children had left out cookies or mince pies for Santa. He smiled to himself, knowing that next year, he’d be part of everything.

He played nervously with his fingers and wedding ring as Zayn drove the few miles to Niall’s house, fighting to stay awake. He knew he’d want to be heading home in the morning as early as he could, and he didn’t care he was going to be exhausted thanks to all the travelling he’d done over the past few years. It was worth it to see his family. Louis would travel heaven and earth to get home.

As they got out of the car and walked up to the front door, it swung open and Niall stood there in his pyjamas, grinning broadly at both men. Louis went silently into his arms, chest shaking with his tears from being reunited with another of his best friends. Niall had been in Ireland the last time Louis had come home so they hadn’t seen one another for almost two years now, and the reunion was a lot for an already emotional Louis to take.

“So fucking glad you’re home,” Niall said, his words muffled as his face was buried in Louis’ hair, not letting him go. “Bloody glad you’re here to stay as well.”

“Me too,” Louis said, patting Niall’s back and trying to break away slightly, feeling a little squashed. “Nialler, I can’t breathe-”

“Oh shit, sorry. Gimme your bags, come in, it’s fucking freezin’ out here...”

Louis handed over the bag full of Christmas gifts to Niall and followed him indoors, Zayn just  behind them lugging Louis’ suitcase inside. Niall’s place was beautifully decorated as always, and as they ducked under a sprig of mistletoe, Niall pulled Louis in and left a kiss on his cheek, making them all laugh.

“You want a cuppa or you want to go to bed?”

“I mean, I don’t want to be rude Ni, but I’m knackered-”

“Hey, I get it, that’s why I offered, yeah? I’ll be up in the morning to drive ya over to Harry’s.”

“Have you, um, seen Harry and the kids lately?”

“Last week,” Niall admitted, flicking off the TV and turning back to Louis and Zayn. “Your kids are so fuckin’ great, Lou, seriously. Like, Leo reminds me so much of you, and Molly is just bloody beautiful, that kid loves me, I swear to God.”

“Oi, not as much as she’s gonna love her Papa,” Louis chided, jokingly smacking Niall on the arm. “And Haz? He’s coping okay?”

“You know him, course he is. He’s wonder Dad, dunno how he does it. Misses you, though. He thinks we don’t catch the little touches of his wedding ring, or the way he glances at your photos whenever he walks by. But we do. He’s like… he’s strong for everyone else, but he needs you, Louis. He needs someone to be strong for him, too.”

“That’s why I’m home. I want to be here for him, for my kids. I’m done being halfway around the world, I’m done not being a present father and husband. I’m ready to come home, and be the man my family needs.”

Louis was suddenly encompassed in hugs from both sides, both Niall and Zayn grabbing him and holding him tightly, his words clearly moving them. Zayn broke away first, and Louis turned, ready to thank Zayn for all he’d done.

“You coming round on Boxing Day, yeah? We’ll have loads of leftovers ‘cause Harry always buys way too much food, we’d love to have you…”

“Sure. I bet the kids will want to show Uncle Z what Santa brought them anyway.”

“Definitely, mate. And Z, thank you for this. For bringing me home.”

They hugged again and Zayn wished Niall and Louis a merry Christmas before slipping away, leaving them alone. They chatted for a few minutes until Louis yawned loudly, and Niall practically forced him up the stairs and into the small spare bedroom in his house. Niall tried to apologise for the decor, but Louis waved it off, entirely unbothered, too keen to get into a warm and comfortable bed, to sleep and then to wake up on Christmas morning, finally going to see his family. 

“Night, Ni,” Louis called as he heard Niall walk past his room, and his friend called back to him before the sound of a door closing filtered down the hall. Louis snuggled under the covers, in some spare clothes Niall had leant him as he’d left his bags down by the front door, ready to leave in the morning. He sighed and clasped his hands over his stomach, eyes shut. It was past midnight, already Christmas, and Louis couldn’t wait to make everyone’s Christmas wishes come true.

December 25th: 6am

Harry

“Can we go downstairs now Immy’s awake, please?!”

Leo was jumping around on the bed, rocking Samuel and Molly who were sitting both next to Harry and in his lap, while Imogen hovered near the door in her festive pyjamas that matched her siblings. Harry couldn’t believe how cute his four children looked, and he nodded sleepily, not quite fully awake yet but he couldn’t put it off any longer.

“Come on then. Slowly, okay? Don’t want anyone falling down the stairs!”

He scooped Molly into his arms, and his sons scrambled to get off the bed, excitement palpable in the air as they all hurried downstairs, Harry taking his time with his sleepy baby girl in his arms. He could hear them screaming as he walked down the stairs, and he couldn’t stop the biggest grin crossing his face at their excitement.

“HE’S BEEN! DADDY SANTA HAS BEEN!”

“HE ATE THE MINCE PIE, THERE’S CRUMBS EVERYWHERE!”

“PRESENTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” came the loudest shriek of all from Leo, who was already on his knees on the floor by the time Harry walked into the room, his little eager hands already rummaging through the pile of presents in front of him.

“Leo, Daddy told you not to touch yet!” Imogen said, sounding a lot like Harry himself, and he smiled at the realisation as he set Molly into her bouncy chair, wanting to be there to help his older children out with their new gifts if they needed it. “Daddy, who goes first?”

“You can all pick one thing, and open them,” Harry said, loving the smiles on his children’s faces. Imogen and Samuel carefully selected a present each they thought looked the most interesting, but Leo being Leo (and just like his Papa) chose the biggest one, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked gleefully down at his present. “Go on then, open them!”

The sound of ripping paper and excited shrieks filled the room then, and all the children gasped and shouted at each other, showing off what they’d got. Leo had opened a shiny red fire engine complete with realistic noises Harry was sure he’d regret in just an hour or so, Imogen had a beautiful diary, Harry hoping it would encourage her to write down her feelings, and Samuel was clutching a new box set of Horrid Henry books, his eyes alight with joy.

“Can I help Molly?” Samuel asked, and when Harry nodded, Imogen handed her brother a present from Molly’s small pile. The three older children surrounded their little sister and Samuel held the present on her lap as he pulled away the paper, revealing a soft cloth book with different textures patches. He waved it in Molly’s face for a moment until the baby girl made grabby hands for it, snatching it from her brother and ramming the cover straight into her mouth, making them all laugh. “You don’t eat books, Moll!”

Harry laughed and told the other children to start opening their other gifts. Before long, the living room floor was completely covered in torn up wrapping paper, empty boxes and plastic pieces from where they’d eagerly removed toys from their boxes, carelessly throwing away the unneeded packages. Harry just let them at it, knowing he’d worry about clearing up later. He used to sit with a bin bag, scooping up all the mess but watching the delight on his children’s faces outweighed all of that. 

“Daddy, your turn!” Leo screeched, and Harry’s heart fell, knowing he didn’t have anything under the tree. Presents for him would have to wait until his mum and Jay came round later on.

“Ah, I’ll get my pressies later, bub-”

“No, Daddy, you got pressies,” Samuel said, crawling behind the tree and emerging with a messily wrapped gold present with a blue bow stuck on top. There was sellotape everywhere and Harry was sure his children had wrapped it themselves.

“Nanny Anne got it with us!”

“You’re not meant to tell him that, Leo,” Imogen hissed, the three children crawling close to their dad as he accepted the present, biting on his lower lip at how they’d all pulled this off to surprise him. He gently unwrapped the present leaving a shiny red gift box sat in his lap. Leo’s little fingers were clamouring to touch the gift so Harry let him help, watching as he lifted off the lid, revealing a layer of tissue paper. 

“Wow, you guys did an amazing job wrapping this up,” Harry said, rummaging in the tissue paper, finally finding something inside a small velvet pouch. He let Leo have the box, the boy more entertained with that than seeing his dad open the gift, and he tipped the pouch up carefully, something cold and metal falling into his hand.

Harry tilted it and saw it was a silver keychain, a long piece of metal with engravings on it. A closer look showed Harry it was the names and birthdates of his family, starting with Louis at the top, then Imogen, Samuel, Leo and Molly right at the bottom. Underneath Molly’s name was the phrase “Daddy’s Special People”, and it was that that pushed him over the edge, sending tears tumbling down his cheeks.

“It’s perfect,” he sniffed, using the edge of Louis’ t-shirt to wipe his eyes, unashamed of his crying. He looked again at the gift, treasuring how personal and perfect it was, leaving him able to carry a bit of his family around with him wherever he went. “I love it, thank you all so much. Come here, give your old Dad a hug!”

“You’re not old yet!” Samuel laughed, barrelling into Harry’s arms, kisses being pressed all over Harry’s face. Before long, they all vanished to the floor again, opening a few more presents with Molly until they turned back to their own things, listening to each other as they looked at the things they’d gotten; a pack of smelly gel pens, a Paw Patrol annual, a set of Matchbox cars and much, much more.

A glance at the clock told Harry it was already gone seven in the morning, and he reached into the bouncy chair to pick up his baby girl, pulling a silly face at her as he scooped her into his arms, kissing all over her cheeks, making her giggle. Harry always loved the stage before his children became fully verbal, and he lifted her a little more, nuzzling her belly which made her laugh more.

“You happy it’s Christmas, huh? I know you’ve got no clue, baby girl, but it’s so much fun! Shall we watch your sister and brothers for a bit?”

He adjusted his position, curling into the corner of the sofa with Molly sat on his lap, watching in wide eyed fascination as Imogen, Samuel and Leo chatted amongst themselves, taking it turns to show off something new they’d received. He loved that they were so happy for each other, and he could feel the love all of them shared. He was proud of the family he and Louis had created, and he couldn’t help but let his eyes drift over to the tree, where Louis’ ‘Best Papa’ ornament was hanging on a low branch Leo had chosen when they’d put up the tree weeks ago. Harry had a similar one, ‘Best Daddy’ written on his, but Imogen had positioned it slightly higher up.

The living room was soon full of noise when Leo discovered the noise buttons on his fire truck, and he practically screamed in joy, pressing each one in turn over and over, until even Imogen was begging him to stop. Molly was whimpering, a bit uncertain about the noise, and Harry gently reminded Leo it was maybe a bit earlier for things like that, but that didn’t stop the little boy making loud engine noises as he pushed it back and forth over the carpet and over piles of wrapping paper, demolishing everything in its path. Harry chuckled as Imogen hurried to scoop up all her presents, dumping them on the armchair out of harm’s way.

He was just about to help Samuel open up his box set of books when the doorbell rang, and Harry rolled his eyes, unsurprised his Mum and Gemma had arrived so early. Anne had text before Harry had fallen asleep the night before, promising to be there bright and early to help prepare the turkey and vegetables, but even for her this was a bit over the top.

“Ims, go and open the door for Nanny, love.”

“Okay, Daddy!”

She hopped to her feet and ran off, pulling open the door to the hallway. Harry felt a rush of cool breeze around his legs from the hallway, and focused on peeling back the cellophane from Samuel’s books when a piercing scream stopped him in his tracks.

“OH MY GOD PAPA!”

Harry could hear sobs and he had barely moved when Samuel was already on his feet and dashing out of the room, screaming as well in the hallway. Harry could hear a voice in the midst of his screaming children, and he was sure his heart had stopped. All he could make out were the occasional words; “you’re here!”, and “-missed you so much” and “love you Papa!”. His hands were shaking and he held onto Molly for dear life, his mind swirling, his heart thumping erratically as the screams quietened to cries as the noises got closer.

Harry’s eyes were fixated on the door that had creaked half closed, and he just stayed where he was, unable to move, frozen. Then, slowly, like time had slowed down, he was there. There were children hanging off him, Samuel and Leo on his hips, Imogen with her arms around his waist, but there was no doubt who it was. Louis was there. He looked exhausted, his clothes were creased and his hair was pointing every which way, but it didn't matter. He looked utterly perfect, and Harry's eyes filled with tears, his body starting to shake. His husband was home.

Harry let out a choked sob, clutching his baby girl tightly as Louis’ eyes crinkled, tears falling down his cheeks as he let a smile cross his face, exhaustion obvious but utter joy was the only thing Harry could see. He longed to reach out and touch Louis, prove he was real, that this wasn’t a dream but his limbs didn’t seem to be working. Nothing made any sense except Louis, his Louis.

“Hello, my darling,” came Louis’ soft voice and Harry broke. Imogen hurried over and snatched her sister from Harry’s arms just in time as his legs gave out, the curly haired man dropping to his knees and sobbing, his hands over his face, completely and utterly overwhelmed. His body was wracked with sobs, and he just let the tears flow, unable to hold back his emotion. 

It was just a short few seconds later that strong arms were wrapped around him, pulling him against the body that was as familiar to him as his own, and he went easily, still shaking and disbelieving this was really happening. He could smell Louis; his senses were being invaded by his husband but it all felt so surreal, like this was happening to someone else because he couldn’t possibly ever be this lucky, not now.

“Don’t cry sweetheart, you’re meant to be happy,” Louis whispered, stroking Harry’s back, one hand tickling the back of his neck so gently and softly. Harry sniffed and sat up enough to stare into Louis’ blue eyes, openly crying as he reached up, cupping Louis’ stubbly cheek, running his thumb against his jaw.

“You’re really here,” Harry stuttered out, his voice low and husky with emotion. “You’re really home.”

“I am,” Louis replied, the most beautiful smile spreading across his face. “I’m home for good, baby. I’m never leaving again.”

Harry sobbed again as Louis grabbed him into another tight hug, their tears mingling on their cheeks. Harry only managed to get himself together a few moments later, wiping his eyes as he looked over at their children who were still crying themselves.

“Oh god, come here darlings,” he said, and the three eldest children came rushing over, heaping on top of Harry and Louis. Imogen handed her baby sister back to Harry, and it was then that Harry heard a muffled sob. He looked over to see Louis’ eyes full of tears, his bottom lip trembling as he took in the sight of his baby girl for the first time, the little girl staring at the unfamiliar man as if trying to puzzle out who he was.

“Harry, she’s… oh god, she’s so beautiful.”

“You wanna hold her, Lou?” Harry asked softly, and Louis nodded, his hands shaking as Harry manoeuvered Molly into his arms, Louis holding her as if she was his whole world. Harry’s heart felt full, complete at the sight of Louis finally uniting with his daughter, their family together and complete for the first time. Louis was gently stroking her cheek and looking at her in complete awe, his gaze transfixed on her face.

“Hello, baby girl. I’m your Papa. Remember me?”

The room was deathly silent as Molly reached up, pressing a tiny palm against Louis’ cheek, their blue eyes locking with each others. Instead of making a sound, the little girl just leaned in and rested her cheek on Louis’ chest, and Harry watched as his husband fell apart, squeezing his eyes shut as his face creased up and the tears fell, overcome with emotion. Molly stayed still where she was, somehow knowing against the odds that she could trust this man, that he loved her already.

“How are you here, Papa?” Imogen asked, voicing the thought that had been whirring through Harry’s mind for the past few minutes. “We haven’t done all the ticks on your coming home chart yet, but you’re here for Christmas!”

“I’ve been travelling for days, sweetheart,” Louis said, making room as Imogen and Samuel climbed into his lap, leaving Leo on Harry’s, watching everything with curious toddler eyes. “I always planned to be here at Christmas. And I’m staying home now. Papa’s not going away again, I promise.”

“Then Santa heard my wish,” she whispered, smiling to herself like she had a secret no one else knew about. “I wished that you’d be okay and be safe, and you are. And now you’re here.”

“Where I belong,” Louis said, dipping his chin enough to kiss Molly on the head. “And I see Santa has been…”

“Yeah! Wanna see my truck?” Leo said loudly, and Louis laughed, nodding as Leo stumbled to his feet, running over to where he’d abandoned his fire engine in the excitement of Louis coming back home. “Makes noise, see?”

He pushed all the buttons again, filling the room with the hideous din but nobody could bring themselves to shush him. Louis was then attacked with a barrage of toys and things, all of his children eager to show him what Santa had brought them, praising and being excited for each one. Imogen was chattering away, showing Louis her diary that Harry had chosen, and Samuel plonked his boxset in Louis’ lap, pointing out the titles he was most excited to read. Harry just sat back, watching it unfold, unable to believe this was happening. Louis was home, and sharing in Christmas with them. 

After a while, Imogen took the boys into the kitchen to pick something from their selection boxes, leaving Harry, Louis and Molly alone for the first time, the distant chatter reminding them three sets of ears weren’t too far away.

“Did you mean it? That you’re home for good?” Harry asked, needing to know.

“I am. I’ve officially resigned from active office, and I’ve got a new job here in Manchester. I want to be home with you, H. I miss you, and I miss our kids. I’m not going to waste another second.”

“Louis…”

“Yes, baby?” Louis asked, gently rocking his daughter.

“Will you kiss me? Please?”

Louis smiled and nodded, getting onto his knees and popping Molly into her rocker before he shuffled over to Harry, taking his face gently in his hands, eyes raking over every inch of him, tears filling them again but Harry had never been more mesmerised by his husband in all his life.

“I love you, Harry.”

Harry let his eyes flutter shut just as Louis started to lean in, their lips meeting softly and gently in what was quite possibly the most meaningful kiss they’d ever shared. It didn’t go any further than lips pressing against lips, but for Harry, it was everything. Harry started to cry silently as they kissed, and Louis pulled him closer, their chests pressed together as one of Louis’ hands found Harry’s waist, kneading the skin gently for a moment until they broke the kiss, certain their children would interrupt at any moment.

“I love you, too. You’ve made every Christmas wish I’ve ever had come true, you know that?”

Louis blushed at that, and was just leaning in to kiss Harry again when their stampede of children barged their way back into the room, high on chocolate and the excitement of everything happening around them. 

“What’s this?” Leo’s voice called, his head already in one of Louis’ bags by the door. Louis just got to his feet, jogging over and taking it away, picking Leo up and rejoining his family on the floor, his children sat as close to him as they could get without being in his lap. “More pressies?”

“Yup, I couldn’t resist getting you guys a few things in Paris while I waited for my plane home,” Louis began, doling out the presents to each of his children, handing Harry Molly’s gift. They all gasped and shrieked in excitement as they saw what Louis had brought them, hugging and kissing him and showing Harry their gifts. Imogen loved her scarf and wound it around her slender neck, looking more grown up than her eight years. Samuel loved the wooden money box Louis had found him at the airport, promising to save his pocket money, and Leo just looked at the wooden carved train like Louis had given him the world. Molly clutched the unicorn and brought it close to her chest, already sleepy from the excitement of the past few hours.

“Why don’t you guys go and get dressed while Papa and I clear up?” Harry suggested, and all of the children nodded, racing up the stairs. Harry heard Imogen bossing her brothers around and he smiled at Louis, loving that Louis was sharing in these moments now. “I still can't… you’re really here. Fuck, Lou.”

“I really am. I’m real, love.” Louis turned to the bag by his feet, and he bit his lip as he brought out two presents, setting them on the floor between them. “I, uh, I got you something for Christmas.”

“Oh Louis, I... -”

“I don’t need anything,” Louis quickly reassured him, knowing Harry usually waited until he arrived home to give him gifts for occasions he missed. “Being here with you is enough. Being home is all I wanted this year, and I’ve got it. But please… open them? I saw them and they were so… you.”

Harry blinked back yet more tears and slowly opened the velvet box, his hands trembling as he reached for the ring inside. It was stunning, gold and intricate, exactly the sort of thing Harry would’ve chosen himself. Louis took it from him and took Harry’s right hand, sliding it onto the fourth finger of that hand, not releasing Harry’s hand once it was in place.

“Louis, it’s… it’s perfect. I love it.”

“I knew it would look lovely on you,” Louis whispered, bringing Harry’s hand to his lips and kissing it softly. “And this one…”

He nudged the other present closer, and Harry picked it up, a little surprised by its weight. It was a black gift bag, and Harry reached inside, lifting out the gift.

“Oh my god…”

The golden music box was stunning. The intricacy of the design blew Harry away, and he creaked open the lid, seeing a golden key laying against the velvet cushions inside. He lifted it out and turned the box around, finding the slot and pushing the key inside, winding it up a few times. The soft music played from it, filling the silence, a haunting tune that made goosebumps appear all over Harry’s skin.

“This is just… wow, Louis. I love it so much, where did you…”

“A little jewellery shop in Paris. I saw the ring first, I was already getting that and then I saw this. I thought it would be perfect for your other rings and things.”

“You’re so thoughtful. I love you so much, you know that? And you didn’t need to get me anything. This… having you home is the best present you’ve ever given me.”

They kissed again, Molly by now dozing in her chair, her unicorn mushed against her cheek. When they stopped kissing, Louis pulled Harry into his lap, Harry making himself comfortable between Louis’ legs, getting as close as they could.

“She’s so big,” Louis mused, watching their daughter with fond eyes. “She looks so much like you, H. Her hair, her lips… she’s you all over.”

“She’s such a chilled out baby. Has to be, I guess, with those guys for brothers and sisters. But yeah, she’s growing up so quickly. I can’t believe it’s been six months since I had her already.”

Louis fell quiet at that, no doubt remembering how he’d missed her birth as he was away on deployment, but Harry tilted his head back, pulling him into a quick kiss to distract him.

“Hey, none of that. Don’t do that, Lou, don’t beat yourself up. You’re here now, and you’re staying. That’s what matters. That’s all that matters to us. You’re going to see her grow up, and that’s what really matters.”

They kissed again but were interrupted by Leo barging into the room, hands on his hips as he faced his dads, his garish Christmas jumper flashing brightly at them.

“You like it? I’m Christmas!” 

“You look amazing, bud,” Louis grinned, opening his arms just as Leo jumped into them, Imogen and Samuel appearing in the doorway now. “Oh wow, you all look amazing. Look at you, Immy, so grown up. And Samuel… so smart! You look like Daddy like that.”

“I like being like Daddy,” Samuel admitted shyly, tugging on the Christmas tie Harry had got him the other week. “You not wearing a Christmas jumper?”

“Oh, I definitely will,” Louis said, getting to his feet and then holding out his hands for Harry to grab, hauling his husband to his feet. Harry let himself stumble into a quick kiss, bending down to get Molly before Louis’ hand rested on his back, stopping him. “Mind if I carry her?”

“Of course not, Lou,” Harry said, his heart almost exploding at how gently Louis lifted up their daughter, cradling her sleeping body against his chest, whispering something he couldn’t hear down to her. “Kiddos, we’ll just get dressed then we’ll be down, okay? Immy, pop the telly on, sweetheart.”

They left the room and Harry grabbed for Louis’ hand as they made their way upstairs. Louis went over to Molly’s room, kissing his daughter before he laid her on her back in her crib, lifting her blanket over her sleeping body, backing up to let Harry kiss her quickly. They both walked to their bedroom, and Louis rummaged in his drawers, finding his Christmas jumper in the bottom one from last year. He’d just pulled his shirt off when Harry grabbed his wrist and turned him around, stepping closer and staring at Louis with complete love and devotion in his eyes.

“Kiss me like you mean it,” Harry whispered between them, his words heavy and loaded with meaning. “Kiss me like you’re real, and you’re here to stay.”

So Louis did.

*************

Louis

6pm

“Did you want me to take the children tonight?” Anne asked, hugging both Harry and Louis again. It had been an emotional day, and everyone was exhausted. Anne and Jay had both broken down when they’d walked in and saw Louis sat there as if he’d never left, filling in the missing piece of the Tomlinson home. They’d eaten a noisy but delicious dinner together, and to Louis, everything about the day had been utterly perfect. He wouldn’t change a thing, and he knew today would live forever on in their memories. “I’m sure you two want some alone time…”

“Not tonight, Anne, but thank you,” Louis jumped in, Harry nodding by his side, an arm coming around Louis’ waist. Harry had been tactile all day, as if he needed to keep touching Louis to make sure that he was real, that he was home, but Louis wasn’t objecting at all. He kissed Harry at every opportunity, and barely a moment had passed when one of his children hadn’t been hanging off him. Molly in particular had been clingy with her Papa, and Louis knew Harry was particularly relieved about that. “I want tonight with my whole family. I want to put the kids to bed, and kiss them goodnight and wake up to them in the morning.”

“I totally understand. The offer’s there when you’re ready, though,” Anne said, kissing both men on the cheek. “And Louis, we’re all so happy you’re home, love. We’ve missed you, and I know Harry’s been half of a whole without you.”

“Mummm,” Harry whined, but Louis just chuckled, pulling Harry even closer into his side.

“I’ve not been whole without him either,” Louis whispered, kissing his husband gently as Anne opened up the front door. “Thanks for today, Anne, we’ve had a wonderful day.”

“So did we. You have no idea how happy you’ve made us all, love.”

She hurried off to her car, Gemma having left earlier on with Jay and the other children, exhausted what with being weeks away from giving birth. Louis and Harry waved Anne off before closing the door and locking it behind them, ignoring the mess in the living room as they headed to the stairs.

“I’ll clean up tomorrow,” Harry mumbled as he wearily climbed the stairs, Louis shaking his head.

“No way. Tomorrow, you’re going to let me look after you. Let me be your husband, and the kids dad while you relax. It’s my turn to take care of you now.”

“Sounds perfect,” Harry whispered, stopping at the top of the stairs to kiss Louis gently. Louis fell easily into the kiss, his hands snaking up and under Harry’s jumper, resting on the soft skin of his hips. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

Harry nodded and Louis dragged him down the hall, intending to get changed before they both kissed their children goodnight. When they walked into their bedroom, though, what they saw stopped them both right in their tracks. Instead of a nicely made bed Louis expected to see, there were covers on the floor, and three sleeping kids all over the bed. Leo was laid along at the bottom, Imogen was on her back on Louis’ side of the bed, and Sam was on his tummy, entirely flat out and snoring softly.

They both smiled and hugged each other, Louis feeling ridiculously happy that their children had sought comfort in the parents’ bed. As much as Louis wanted to be alone with Harry, to kiss him and touch like he’d been desperate to for months, what was happening right now was perfect. They changed wordlessly, keeping the lights off as they pulled on their pyjamas, Louis’ heart leaping into his mouth when he saw Harry slipping one of his t-shirts, one he remembered a very pregnant Harry wearing a few years ago.

“You want to put them back in their own beds?” Harry asked in a low voice but Louis shook his head.

“No. Leave them here. One night won’t hurt.”

He reached down and picked Leo up by the armpits, laying him between his brother and sister before both he and Harry left the room, brushing their teeth and kissing Molly goodnight before they went back to their room. Louis leaned down and flicked on the bedside light, bathing the room in a soft glow. He laid down and watched as Harry did the same on the other side of the bed, their tired children barely stirring.

“So, good day?” Louis asked, and Harry smiled, his eyes crinkling beautifully as he did so. Louis reached out and pressed the pad of his thumb against his husband’s dimple, relishing the fact that he could do that now, that he could touch Harry whenever he wanted. 

“The best,” Harry confirmed, his voice a whisper, but it was music to Louis’ ears. “So… how long have you been planning this?”

“Since you got pregnant with Moll,” Louis confessed. They’d not really had a moment alone to talk about things since Louis had come home that morning thanks to the wave of people arriving, and then keeping their attention, but now, it was finally their time to talk. “I knew then that I’d had enough of being deployed. I hated the idea of you raising four kids alone, or of something happening to me and the kids not having a dad, and you not having a husband. I applied for a transfer, and when a job came up, I went for it, and got it. I don’t want to miss anymore of your lives. I missed my daughter being born, Haz, and that’s not okay with me.”

“Baby, I told you I understood-”

“Doesn’t make it easier for me. I missed the most special thing that happens in our children’s lives, Harry. I don’t get those moments I missed back again.”

“Then we can make more memories. I’ve always wanted lots of children, Lou. You know I’d love to grow our family, when you’re ready for that.”

Louis paused, a little startled by Harry’s revelation.

“You want another baby?”

Harry shrugged but smiled coyly, nodding slightly.

“Not right now, but… yeah. Definitely. You know I love being pregnant, and the thought of having a baby with you here by my side the whole time… yeah, I want that. So much, actually.”

Louis smiled to himself, shivering slightly at the thought of getting Harry pregnant again, of creating a new life, of growing their perfect little family with yet another tiny Tomlinson. He wasn’t quite sure how he got lucky enough to have Harry fall in love with him, but he’d never been more grateful that at fifteen, he’d met a young Harry Styles and fallen head over heels for the curly-haired, long legged clumsy boy he now called his own.

“So you really are staying home?” came Harry’s voice, breaking Louis’ train of thought.

“You really don’t believe me, do you?”

“I do, just… it all seems so surreal. That you’re here, that I’m not going to be waving you off again in a few weeks time.”

“Well, you won’t. Not ever again, I promise you that. I’m home, Harry. This is where I’m staying, right here, with you and our children.”

Harry reached out and they linked hands above their sleeping children’s heads, the house peaceful and quiet at last.

“I’m not back at work until the end of January. They gave me all of my accrued leave and let me have it now. I wanted some time at home with you and the kids before I went back. I want us to enjoy being a family again, H. I want to be the dad and husband you all deserve.”

“You already are,” Harry said, squeezing Louis’ hand. “Thank you. For doing this for us, for our family.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m not missing any more of their lives. I want to see them grow up, I want to see Molly’s first steps, and be here for Leo’s first day at school. I want to hear Sammy read every night before he goes to bed, and I want to talk to Imogen about her day, find out what’s going on in her little head. And…” he cleared his throat, feeling emotional as he talked about his family, the five people in the world who meant the most to him. “I want to fall asleep with you. Make love to you. Go shopping and hold your hand as we walk down the street. I want us, Harry. Our family. Our marriage. I love you for supporting me and my career for so long, but now it’s my turn to support you. I love you more than anything, Harry Tomlinson.”

“And I love you, Louis,” Harry said back, neither of them able to kiss thanks to the three small bodies between them, but their words were enough. “Merry Christmas, darling.”

“Merry Christmas, Haz.”

Silence fell again for a moment, and Louis was drifting into sleep when Harry’s voice woke him again, husky and unsure.

“You’re really going to be here when I wake up?”

Louis’ heart broke at his uncertainty, and he propped himself up on his elbow, reaching to touch Harry’s face again. 

“I am. Until we’re old and grey, and you’re bored of my wrinkly old face.”

That made Harry laugh, trying to quieten himself, neither of them wanting their children to wake up. Leo in particular was a demon if he was woken up mid-sleep. 

“Seriously, though. I’m here for good. I’m never leaving your side again, Harry. I’m right where I want to be.”

“Well, that’s good because I’m never letting you go again. Not now I’ve got you home with me. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Harry. Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, and you lay in. Let me take care of the kids and breakfast.”

Harry nodded and yawned, resting the back of his hand against his mouth to muffle the sound, smiling at Louis.

“Alright then. G’night Lou.”

“Night, sweetheart.”

Louis carefully over and pecked Harry’s lips before he fell back onto his slither of mattress, Imogen’s bum pressing against his tummy as she shifted position in her sleep. He stretched his arm behind him and flicked off the light, plunging the room into darkness.

He felt more settled in his bed there than he had for a long time. He could hear the breaths of his husband and children as they sank into deep sleeps, the excitement of the day finally worn off, letting their bodies rest. He was just dropping off when the baby monitor Harry had left on his bedside crackled, little whimpers coming through. Louis hurried to his feet and left the room, tiptoeing down the corridor and pushing his way into Molly’s room, hearing his daughter grumble in her sleep. Louis scooped her up and shushed her, soothing her as best he could. She must have been exhausted as she soon quietened down, sound asleep. He laid her back down, kissing her full lips before he tucked her in, marvelling slightly at the fact he could do that now.

He crept back to bed and when he was there, reached out, touching the top of Harry’s head with the tips of his fingers, needing the grounding touch of Harry’s body to remind that he was here, at home with family, not half the world away, wishing he could be where he was right now. Louis loved his job, he loved serving his country, he loved wearing his Uniform and working for the army. 

But above all of that, he loved Harry, Imogen, Samuel, Leo and Molly more. They were his family, his loves, his future. His happiness. Right here, by their side, was the only place he wanted to be again.