Chapter Text
Louis’ room is just as still and quiet when he blinks himself awake later on as it was when he cried himself to sleep in it hours before. Harry rubs at his eyes, noting the new golden tint to the yellow sunshine that had been pouring in through the window. He must have been resting up here half the day and yet nobody came in to check on him in all that time. It’s only after he sits up in a different bed than the one he curled up in earlier that he realizes why that is.
Everything around him has changed from the faded blue paint on the walls that are now a soft grey to the hoodie he fell asleep clutching to his chest but has now mysteriously vanished. This place doesn’t resemble any of the other futures he’s been to or even anywhere Harry has been in the past, but it feels like something familiar. Maybe it’s in the old guitar leaning against the wall or the various piles of clothing on the floor, but this room feels like home.
His head is no longer pounding like a drum, and thankfully, his stomach isn’t churning on itself anymore. His hands haven’t trembled once since he woke up, but a quick glance down at them momentarily stops his heart. In every other future, his ring finger has remained bare, unlike right now with the beautiful silver band resting against his knuckle with the tiny emeralds glittering along its edges. He’s just reading the small inscription on the inside of the ring that reads ‘always’ when a door opening and closing somewhere and a call of his name makes his breath catch in his throat.
Harry is up and across the bedroom as fast as his bare feet will carry him to follow the sounds of someone arriving home. All around Harry are signs of this flat being half his as he navigates through it while there are other things that make no sense at all like the stuffed elephant and other random toys he has to step over once he gets to the living room.
“Haz! Babe, we’re back!” someone calls again from what appears to be the kitchen, sending Harry’s heartbeat racing because he knows that voice.
“Lou?”
As soon as his feet hit the tiled floor, a tiny, excited voice that he doesn’t recognize fills the room to greet him by a name he’s never been called before.
“Daddy!”
A mess of ginger curls comes bounding over from across the room, wrapping Harry’s legs in a tight embrace. He barely even has time to acknowledge the hug before the little girl goes skipping off towards the living room and Louis notices him standing in the doorway, aiming an amused grin in Harry’s direction as he animatedly recounts the events of their shopping trip.
“I tried talking her into keeping the princess costume but she jumped ship as soon as we got to Niall’s and she saw that Elliot’s going to be a zombie for Halloween instead of Spiderman, so naturally, Emma now wants to be a zombie too. So, after leaving Ni’s and dropping off all the party stuff at Liam’s, we then went back to the costume shop to find face paint so our daughter can be an undead royal. I figured you could do the honors? We both know I’m shit at painting.”
Louis holds up several tubes of face paint as evidence, his grin turning into a small frown when he notices Harry staring at the sliver ring on his left hand encrusted with blue sapphires.
“Haz? What is it?”
Harry has been through hell and back so many times tonight that he has lost count. He has no recollection of how the hell he ended up here, but he’s so grateful that he did. Here, in a future where they finally got it right somehow. Where they have a daughter together, and a home, and a whole amazing life that they’ve built.
He walks the few feet separating him from his husband and connects their mouths the way he’s been longing to ever since Louis first asked him to in his dingy flat with Anna or when Louis wasn’t even his to have this way. In the last future, Louis wasn’t even alive so Harry doesn’t take one single moment of their kiss for granted, his heart so relieved and full that it’s overflowing with each brush of their lips.
Louis pulls back wearing a dazed smirk that grows concerned again when he hears Harry sniff to hold back the tears quickly forming in his eyes. “Love, what’s the matter? What happened?” he asks as he thumbs at the few that manage to escape.
“Nothing,” Harry answers, leaning into every touch. “I’m sorry. I just missed you.”
His husband snorts at that like Harry has lost his mind. “Okay, I was gone for like, an hour tops,” he points out, but seems flattered nonetheless, not arguing one bit when Harry interrupts him and captures his lips again just for the hell of it, with no intention of ever letting him go.
*
It’s nearly midnight when they arrive back home with Louis carrying their exhausted three-year-old inside who fell asleep on his shoulder half an hour ago, and Harry carrying her massive bag of candy that he and Louis have been sneaking treats from all evening, still reeling from the fact that this is his life.
“I’m just going to go clean her up really quick and tuck her in. Will you lock up?”
“Yeah, Lou. Sure. You go ahead,” Harry agrees, watching his husband expertly walk through Emma’s toy minefield with his white Prince Charming jacket covered in smeared zombie makeup.
Harry locks up the flat as he was asked and then places Emma’s candy bag out of reach on the kitchen counter so she doesn’t eat herself into a sweets coma. He grins at all the small things that make up their lives like all the bright scribble drawings stuck to the fridge and the family calendar lying on the table with all the important dates for the month jotted down in Harry’s neat writing. Used and discarded coffee mugs appear in pairs all over the flat, photos of them from childhood to now grace the walls, and their bedroom looks and smells like the perfect blend of the two of them.
He’s sitting at the foot of their bed reveling in their shared space when Louis comes stumbling in a few minutes later, kicking off his shoes and removing the golden crown perched on top of his head with a sigh when he remembers it’s still there. He places it next to the matching one that Harry wore all night even though Emma wasn’t too impressed with their coordinating costumes when she was so immensely pleased with her own and the fact that it matched her best friend’s. Sort of.
“Remind me to be something easy and more comfortable next year like Niall’s half-arsed attempt at a costume,” his husband mutters as he shrugs out of his regal jacket and lets it fall to the floor.
“He was a superhero,” Harry grins, making Louis roll his eyes. “Clark Kent.”
“No, he was lazy as fuck and threw on a pair of glasses. At least Clark Kent wore a tie,” Louis deadpans as he yanks his t-shirt over his head and steps out of his jeans, creating yet another small mountain of clothing surrounding them.
He takes a step to the left towards his side of the bed, his lips curling up enough to crinkle his eyes when Harry’s fingers find themselves intertwined with his to keep him there. Louis moves to stand in the triangle of Harry’s legs, eyes alight with curiosity as Harry marvels at the sight before him. After all this time, here and even in the past, Harry still can’t believe he’s real.
“What?” he chuckles just like he did the last time Harry was this mesmerized by him and his golden skin. “You’ve been looking at me like that all night.”
“H-Have I? ‘M sorry,” Harry breathes, butterflies flooding his stomach when Louis crawls into his lap. Louis’ thighs tighten around his hips until they are chest to chest and every breath Harry takes is filled with him.
“I wasn’t looking for an apology, love,” he whispers, overwhelming every one of Harry’s senses when their lips finally meet.
*
For two glorious days, Harry has had the pleasure of falling asleep and waking up in a world where his husband is his best friend and their family is the single best thing to ever happen to him; to ever happen to them. Every second here is a gift from the long walks they all take through the park on Sunday mornings to playing follow the leader in the mirror at night to get Emma to brush her teeth. There are things in this future that Harry never imagined could mean so much like a thank you kiss on the lips from his husband for cooking dinner or a thank you kiss to the cheek from his daughter for playing princess tea party for a whole hour. This life is perfect. It’s more than Harry could’ve hoped for in a million years, and until he is pulled back to his rightful place in time, he intends to soak up as much of it as possible.
“What would you be doing right now if this were just a normal day?”
Louis’ eyes crinkle up as he relinquishes his hold around Harry’s waist, uncurling himself to lie back on the pillows and properly consider his question.
“On a normal day? Well, love, for starters, I’d be at work so I probably wouldn’t be this naked. Probably,” he jokes, earning himself a swift pinch to the bare thigh still slung over Harry’s hips. “I don’t know, H,” Louis grins to himself. “It’s late, so around this time in the afternoon I’d probably be getting ready to leave the office to go get Emma from Niall’s. I’m usually wondering what to pick up for dinner for us because Mondays were not made for cooking…” he explains. “And mostly, I’d just be anxious to get back home to you. Best part of my day.”
All of that sounds wonderful; a life better than anything Harry could possibly dream.
“We’re definitely never doing this,” Louis smirks after a beat, moving to pillow his head on Harry’s chest once again. “Taking the whole day off like this to just be with each other. It’s been so nice. And, god, I can’t remember the last time we had this much sex. I’m sore and exhausted in the best possible way,” he hums, happily adding another tiny love bite to Harry’s chest to accentuate all the ones from Halloween and the night before that have started to fade.
Harry frowns at that as his husband continues showering him with affection.
“Wait. We don’t have sex?”
Louis meets his gaze with a perplexed frown of his own before giving him a fond roll of his eyes.
“Of course we have sex, Haz. You know we do, just not usually five times in one day,” he laughs. “Not since our uni days anyway.”
The worried crinkle between Harry’s eyebrows doesn’t go away and his husband notices it, rolling his eyes at him again the way he used to when they were kids and Harry was being stubborn or difficult. Except, this isn’t like that because Harry isn’t getting cold feet about sneaking out of his mum’s house or stealing extra sweets when no one was looking. This is their life and their marriage. One in which Harry can’t even fathom the two of them not taking time for one another.
“Well, we’re a little busy, love,” Louis chuckles at his offended expression, attempting to erase it with a kiss to his jaw. “We can’t just hang out in our dorm rooms all day having sex every chance we get. You just quit the firm like you always talked about to open the bookshop and it’s doing so well. Work for me is going well too and the agency finally let us bring Emma home, so now we’re dads,” his husband gushes, smiling so big his eyes crinkle up to almost nothing. “So, we’re both tired sometimes, but that’s only because a lot of our energy now goes to more important things like our family, but I’ll take it. I don’t mind,” he smiles.
Harry can feel the love between them just from the way Louis talks about all their amazing accomplishments together. What they had in the other future with Thomas was love too; enough to make him and Louis risk everything just to have one another for a few moments, but this doesn’t feel like that. This is something so calm and content and strong between their hearts that even Harry doesn’t quite understand it; something he’ll have to live in real time to fully comprehend.
“But- But you’re happy though, right?” Harry checks. “We‘re happy?”
“What?” Louis gives him another ludicrous look like he’s insane. “Us? Baby, of course we are,” he laughs, the blue of his eyes disappearing again with his smile. “I honestly don’t think I could be any happier. You were it for me from the start.”
Harry just wishes he knew when exactly the start was.
“You still can’t remember what happened that night?” he asks, lacing their hands together so their wedding bands touch. “That night at Jamie’s house?” That had been one of the first things Harry asked when he randomly showed up in this future only to find out that Louis isn’t too sure of how they got here either.
A loud snort fills the room as Louis tries once again to recall the events of that night to no avail. “Is it horrible that I still have no fucking idea?” he laughs, looking half as amused as he looks sorry for not being able to remember such a monumental moment in their history. “God, we just drank so much that night, you know? All I remember is that we were arguing about something? Some boy I think.”
“Thomas. Jamie’s cousin,” Harry helpfully fills in for him. “He kissed you that night.” And then went on to build a life for himself with someone else. A handsome, dark-haired man who looks at Thomas and their two kids with as much love as Louis looks at Harry and Emma. At least that’s what Harry gathered after looking him up on social media.
“Oh, shit,” his husband snorts again. “That’s right! You were so pissed!”
“Was not,” he mutters, knowing that ‘more jealous than he has ever been in his entire life’ is a much better description of how he felt that night.
“You were,” Louis maintains, “And I got mad at you too for being mad at me, but- but then something changed.” So far in the past, Louis has followed Anna out of that party and ruined his life, stayed behind with Thomas and married him, and then he left on his own accord with Niall, permanently erasing any chance at a future either of them could’ve had. “It’s all fuzzy now, but we got over it; whatever was keeping us apart. We fell together somehow that night, and… I don’t know,” he shrugs. “It’s been that way ever since. Just you and me.”
******
Harry is aware of every second that passes. He counts them, fearful that the next may be his last to spend here unlike the other futures where Harry couldn’t wait to leave. Going back now wouldn’t seem so bad if he knew what to do once he gets there, but he still doesn’t. Apparently, no one does, because Liam and Niall give him the same hazy frown as if the details from that night are being remembered through muddy water. Being kept in the dark is frustrating, but Harry tries not to let the lack of specifics of that night get to him. Just being here with his husband and their daughter and seeing how amazing all their lives have turned out is proof enough that whatever he did at Jamie’s was the right thing whether he remembers it or not.
He goes to work on Tuesday, unable to sweet-talk Louis into another lazy day off. Running the book shop is simple and quiet work which seems like such a strange choice for himself given that in every other future, his job is anything but. Louis told him he stopped practicing law a few years ago which is even more confusing because going into law has always been his dream, but he guesses he found a new one.
It’s Wednesday night when Harry grins to himself watching the little pair of eyes before him twitching behind closed lids. His daughter has been asleep for hours. An evening playing dress-up and more princess tea party can be exhausting for a three-year-old as well as for him, and yet he still finds himself in her room each night, not quite ready to say goodnight.
“She’s not going to vanish into thin air if you look away from her, you know,” a familiar voice chuckles from the doorway. That may be true, but Louis still walks over to join him, hooking his chin over Harry’s shoulder to watch their daughter sleep. “I thought I might find you in here,” he says after her chest rises and falls a few times and her little fingers curl and tighten around her stuffed elephant.
“I’m sorry,” Harry whispers, only just now realizing how long he’s been in here.
“No, love, it’s fine,” Louis grins against his shoulder. “You’ve been watching her like this a lot lately. Almost like you’re scared she’s going to disappear,” he teases.
Emma isn’t going anywhere and neither is Louis, but Harry is. He doesn’t know when, but it should be any day now. Time won’t leave him here for much longer.
“Are you heading to bed soon?” Harry asks, finally managing to tear his gaze away from their little girl.
When he faces his husband, he’s met with an adoration and a reverence that warms him from the inside out. It’s a phenomenon that happens every time Louis so much as smiles at him; a feeling Harry has associated with Louis their whole lives. Ever since the cool kid a year above him changed everything with just one word.
“Well, yeah, I was thinking about it,” Louis answers him with a grin. “I wanted to shower first. I was kind of hoping to drag you along with me?”
There is no future in which Harry wouldn’t want to be with Louis or follow him anywhere that he goes.
When Louis kisses him, Harry’s whole body sinks into it like a long-awaited sigh. He tries deepening it when the press of their lips sends sparks dancing down his spine, but doesn’t get very far with it when Louis breathes a laugh into his mouth.
“We’ve got to make it to our room first. Meet you there? I think I forgot to lock up,” he chuckles, forcing himself to pull back despite the firm grasp he has on Harry’s shirt to keep him close. Harry receives a fresh kiss, much softer than the one before but no less eager for them to keep going. “Be right back,” he promises.
Louis quietly slips out of the room to go check the front door of the flat while Harry better tucks Emma in for the night, unable to stop grinning about their impromptu shower date. Her bedroom door closes with a soft click behind him, right around the same time Harry’s stomach makes a familiar lurch with his first step towards their room. He tries his hardest to discount it as nothing more than anxious butterflies, however the dreamy, distorted quality to the scene before him makes the sick feeling impossible to ignore.
The door handle he’s squeezing for dear life doesn’t stay no matter how much Harry wills it to. Everything around him fades into something else; their tiny corridor expands to become a house full of people, the warm smell of home he has come to associate with their flat these past few days is now drenched in the stench of alcohol, and the firm grip his fingers once had around his daughter’s door handle are now grasped around nothing but air as a single bottle of beer predictably goes crashing to the floor at his feet.
The sound of its pieces ricocheting and splattering across the hardwood shocks him into the present, filling him with an instant longing for the home and the family he just left. But the feeling is mixed with a newfound sense of faith and excitement because he knows he’ll be back there someday. They all will.
Everybody turns towards the commotion, but all Harry cares about is the ever-beautiful and ever-feisty man currently clinging to his arm. He glares at Harry through faded blue eyes as if he just ended the world, and all Harry can do is grin because he can still taste the kiss that the other Louis left on his lips. They’re still warm and tingling and he’s still unable to stop them from stretching across his face even with his future husband growing more annoyed with him by the second as they do.
“What exactly are you smirking about?” he demands under his breath, his heated gaze briefly leaving Harry to observe the dozens of people surrounding them. “What?” he repeats when Harry’s expression doesn’t change.
Out of the corner of Harry’s eye he can see it all falling into place once again as Anna dislodges herself from the crowd, Niall anxiously shifts his weight next to Liam, and Thomas quietly watches on; all the wrong people and the wrong choices that led them down dark roads, but there is one path they haven’t yet tried. There is one choice that grants them the world, and because the one person who can change it all now knows exactly the kind of world that awaits them, he’s finally ready to follow his gut and make it happen.
“Come with me. Let’s go back to the kitchen,” he whispers, making Louis’ brow furrow when he gently pulls his arm out of his grip and replaces it with his hand. “Just for a minute. Please?”
His imploring doesn’t make Louis admit that he loves him or make him quit looking at Harry like he’s insane, but it does make Anna stop just short of slinging her arm around Louis’ shoulders.
“Please, Lou. Just for a minute so we can talk,” Harry says again, praying that this is the right thing.
Louis glances down at their linked hands, his cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink with everyone watching so Harry lets go, to avoid scaring him off by coming on too strong too fast.
“Alright. For a minute,” he agrees after giving his request some thought, offering Anna a tight-lipped grin in apology when he turns to head back the way they came. Harry gladly trails behind him, more certain now than ever that they’re getting it right. Even if Louis is still mad at him.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” Louis asks, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the island. “Or maybe you just brought me in here so you can yell at me some more,” he quips.
The hard set of his jaw and slight lift to his right eyebrow are indication enough that Harry is on extremely thin ice. His brow rises higher the longer Harry stands there, knowing he owes Louis an apology, almost too distracted by his beauty to give it.
“I didn’t ask you here to yell some more,” Harry tells him, biting down on a fresh smirk when he receives a skeptical scoff in response. “Louis, I’m serious. I shouldn’t have yelled at you at all before or walked away like that. I’m so sorry I did.”
“As you should be,” his best friend mutters under his breath as Harry dares to step closer and Louis allows it. “Go on.”
“I shouldn’t have reacted like that about Thomas kissing you.” Louis seems to fully agree with that statement, however, his defenses weaken when Harry reaches up to briefly cup his cheek in a way that Harry was never brave enough to try until this moment. “I should’ve just been honest.”
His cheeks flush a dusty rose color under his touch, but it’s not from the dozens of people watching like before. Louis leans into his palm like a reflex, looking almost sad at the loss of him when Harry lets his hand fall away.
“H- Honest about what?” he asks after he recovers, attempting to square his jaw again to regain some of his edge, but it’s lost. Softened down to almost nothing when Harry takes hold of his hand instead and presses a warm kiss to it.
“About the way I feel,” Harry admits. “About the way I’ve felt our whole lives, because I love you, Louis. I always have.”
There is no instruction manual for this. Harry doesn’t know how to get them from here to their future life together, but he figured admitting the truth was a good place to start. However, from the way Louis’ breath catches and Louis’ eyes narrow at him in suspicion, Harry is fairly certain he’s fucking everything up again.
“You don’t want to talk,” Louis accuses him. “You’re wasted,” he decides, giving him a disappointed shake of his head before attempting to sidestep him and getting nowhere.
“But, I’m not. I’m not drunk,” Harry swears only for Louis to give him a knowing, flat face in return. “Er- Okay. So, maybe I am a little. I did have a few drinks tonight, but, Lou, that doesn’t change anything. Being in love with you is something I’ve done my entire life. This isn’t anything new,” he promises, letting his grin return as he bravely links their hands once more. “…And, I’m not one-hundred percent sure, but I think you just might love me too. We’re meant to be together.”
In every future Harry has seen, their love for one another was the one constant. That one indisputable fact. Even when they couldn’t be together, Harry felt it. Even when Louis wasn’t there at all. And, now that they’re standing here at the start of it all, it’s here; palpable, and so powerful that he can see it in Louis’ eyes that he feels it too. Always has. Always will.
“Haz, don’t,” he pleads, his gaze downcast as if nobody was supposed to know that about him. Especially not his best friend. Tears are pooled in his blue eyes when he blinks back up, like ice melting away from the sky. “Harry, why are you even saying things like this? Is it just to get back at me for earlier? To make me feel like shit?”
“Love, of course not. No,” Harry squeezes his hands. “I’m saying it because it’s true. I love you more than anything, Louis.”
“I know that. I believe that you love me, but not in the way I’ve always wanted you to,” he sniffs. “You’ve never loved me back the way I love you.”
That couldn’t be further from the truth but that’s only because Louis doesn’t know what he does. He hasn’t seen what they’re going to be, where they’re going to end up, and that they’ll do it all together. Harry stands there listening as he lists all the reasons why Harry loving him makes no sense and how he’s doing this just to be cruel, the whole time replaying the last dozen kisses they shared in his head, hoping their first one will leave him just as breathless.
He doesn’t make the conscious decision to kiss Louis when he does. It’s like he can’t bear to be away from Louis for another second before he’s lifting Louis’ chin to his height to silence the room. Louis’ lips slow against him, so clearly stunned by the new sensation that he’s hardly even breathing when he tentatively kisses back.
Louis is clinging to his shirt when Harry pulls away just far enough to properly see him. He searches Harry’s face, looking both excited and terrified of what this means.
“This isn’t a joke, right?” he checks. “You’re serious?”
Harry earns himself a light shove to the chest when he chuckles in response.
“I’m not joking,” he promises. “I really, actually love you, Louis. And I plan to for a very long time.”
He waits for that to sink into Louis’ brain, snorting a laugh when he’s suddenly pulled into another kiss after a whispered, ‘You better. And I love you too.’
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Are you alright, love?”
Harry’s grin widens in his husband’s direction, watching as his knees bounce the way they have since they left home.
“I’m still alright. Thanks for asking,” Harry laughs.
“Seriously?” he exclaims. “You’re trying to tell me you’re not even a little nervous?”
Harry pretends to mull it over, feeling his dimples dent his cheeks when he smiles with a confident, “Nope. Not really. I’m good.” All that does is make his husband roll his eyes, slowly releasing an anxious breath when Harry laces their fingers and gives his hand a tight squeeze. “You have nothing to be nervous about, babe. I promise. Emma’s going to love us.”
“I know, I know. I just- I don’t get how you’re always so bloody calm,” he laughs. “I’m fucking losing it over here.”
Living through life’s biggest moments has been as exhilarating for him as it is for everyone else, even with the knowledge of where his life is headed. If anything, knowing that things are destined to work out for them makes those moments even more special, allowing him to relax and simply enjoy every blessing he and Louis encounter, all the while his husband loses his shit. Ever since that night he saw their lives mapped out, Harry hasn’t worried. Not about uni when Louis got into their top choice school a year before him, the all-nighters they pulled to get him through law school, when they couldn’t find the perfect flat, or even the day Louis changed his world by asking him to spend the rest of their lives together. None of those things scared him. They were just puzzle pieces falling into place just like the two of them all those years ago, and just like now when they’re moments away from meeting their little girl.
“I really hope she likes us. And her gift,” Louis says pulling the stuffed elephant that Harry convinced him would be a winner out of the bag next to his feet.
“She will. I know it.”
“Oh, yeah? Another one of your famous feelings, then?” Louis smirks, now more inclined to trust Harry’s intuitions that have never led them wrong. “God, the wait’s killing me.”
Harry glances at the clock hanging across the waiting room, beginning to feel a bit anxious himself. They’ve waited a long time to finally become parents, but for Harry it’s been even harder missing her all this time and knowing she would show up eventually but unsure of when exactly that would be. He’s never been more excited to re-meet someone in his life.
He’s not sure who leans in first, but the press of their lips is comforting all the same.
“You’re going to be such an amazing dad, Haz.”
Louis’ words put an instant smile on his face, flooding his chest with a warmth he hasn’t felt since the last time he saw their daughter. “One of your famous feelings?” he teases just as three knocks sound outside the waiting room.
“Something like that,” Louis whispers, taking Harry’s hand in his left and the elephant in his right as the door opens and their world becomes even brighter.
******