Work Text:
(two months)
If Niall had been asked which of them would be the first to have a kid -- and they have been asked that, more or less, by the more shameless interviewers -- then he would have been willing to put his house on Zayn. In hindsight, it's a good thing they never made that bet because there's Zayn and Perrie nothing more than engaged and here's Niall going along to an ultrasound with Louis. He’s got a baby on the way, he’s going to need his house.
He’s twenty one, is the thing. He’s twenty one and Louis is twenty three and they’ve spent the last four years living on top of the world. And then Louis dropped the news one rainy afternoon halfway across America and things have been rocky since.
That sounds bad. It isn’t.
Niall is -- he’s concerned about the outcomes of this. He knows he loves Louis, loves her so much more than he ever expected to, which was already a lot, and he knows he would do anything for her and this baby, but he can’t control what goes on outside the five of them -- the six of them now, he guesses. He doesn’t know how people will react to this new development, that for 99% of the world will be completely out of the blue, that tiny minority of fans rooting for the two of them since The X Factor days when it was HarryandLouis everywhere.
This all sounds like he doesn't want this baby when really it's the opposite of that; he wants this baby so much he's trying to work out a way for no one to get hurt in the process, including Louis -- especially Louis. Of course, he could be being over dramatic, but you just never know and that scares him half to death.
They sit in the doctor’s office where a lady in a blue shirt and a white coat slung over the back of her chair tells them about the next seven or so months, the changes Louis will be going through and what Niall can do to help, and that’s when reality kicks in, when it’s no longer Louis telling him on the tour bus where time passes differently and that this is really going to happen. His head gets a bit wobbly then because he’s twenty one and he knows people have kids younger than that but he still feels so unsteady, so reckless. He can barely look after himself, you know?
In the middle of asking about what vitamins to take Louis’s hand falls between them and grips his tightly, her thumb rubbing over the callous on his middle finger. She's scared, too. She had tried to hide it by going on like everything was the same but a couple of days ago Zayn had walked in on her crying on the phone which had led to a discussion and now, well, she's not hiding how she feels so much any more. So they're both scared, this is a huge thing, fear is understandable. But it's exciting too and Niall should be stepping up here. He takes in a breath, then takes another, and then he leans forward and listens to everything that’s being said.
“You’re freaking out,” Louis says when they’re heading back to the flats. She looks him in the eye when she says this and then she turns to stare out the window to deliver the next part. “I am, too.”
“You’ve always been better at hiding it than me.”
“You don’t have to do this with me, Niall.”
Niall laughs, then, a sound too loud for the car. “You’re joking, right?” Louis faces him again. They were running late for the appointment earlier after a radio interview ran on too long so she threw her hair up into a bun on the way to the doctor’s but now strands are escaping, curling round her face. It makes her look younger.
“Are you okay, Niall? Do you want me to stop the car?” She reaches out, her hand cool on his arm, his cheek. "You look sort of green."
“No, sorry, I was... away. Uh. I want this, Lou. I do.” He really really does he's just so terrified it's hard to see past that at the moment but he'll get there. He's going to get there so soon because Louis needs him not falling apart. "It turns out there's never been much a choice involved when it comes to you."
That sounds too serious. It isn't. What he means is that when Louis loves someone, in whatever shape or form that love is, she loves them with everything and it's damn near impossible not to completely fall back in return. The other boys haven't done this but then again they've never had Louis drunk and giggling into their mouths or moaning softly into their neck. Maybe then they would be feeling the way Niall is now, or maybe Niall has always been in love with Louis, right from the very beginning. Yeah. That sounds more like it.
Louis is looking at him with one eyebrow raised, disbelief and too much uncertainty clear on her face. “You’re sure? It’s so much to give up.”
This time it's a real laugh, one that makes Louis smile at him like she’s still not sure if he’s going to float away but she’s hoping for the best anyway. “I’m in this for the long haul, Louis.” He leans in close to say this, his mouth at Louis’s ear, like this is some sort of secret and isn’t painted on his face every minute of every day. “If you want me, that is. And, anyway, who says we have to give anything up? Touring the world with a baby will be a piece of cake. Trust me. I know these things.”
Louis’s arms are around his neck and she’s hugging him close, those flyaway strands of hair getting in Niall’s mouth and her knees pressed against his. He doesn’t know what the boundaries are anymore, if kissing is still on the table or not, so he wraps his arms around her waist and just holds on.
The world steadies beneath them.
.
(three months)
"Your mum phoned earlier, Niall," Liam says as they're sitting in Zayn's watching a film. It might be In Bruges or it might be Seven Psychopaths. It's got Colin Farrell in it, that's all Niall knows. He's tired -- apparently morning sickness isn't limited to morning hours, who knew. "You know what was weird? She didn't mention the baby at all --"
Shit. "Oh, um, you didn't say anything either, did you?" Did that sound casual enough? Sometimes his voice goes squeaky when he's nervous; he tried to deny this the first time it was brought up but the boys and Louis showed him video evidence to prove that it is in fact true. He coughs. "What -- um, what was she saying?"
"No we just talked about the perfume, really. She isn't sure if she'll get a bottle right away or wait for Christmas..."
Niall tunes Liam out and tries to ignore the look Zayn is sending him from the other end of the couch.
"So what did your family think then?" Zayn asks after a moment. Someone gets shot on screen. "Ni?"
"Oh. Um. They don't actually --"
"You haven't told them yet?"
Niall keeps looking at the screen, his eyes following Colin Farrell instead of catching the exchanged glance between Liam and Zayn. "Not yet, no."
Another silent conversation before Zayn speaks. "Are you going to?"
"Yeah." He turns to look at them both now. "I just haven't decided how I want to say it."
"...Right."
"Anyway, you're not supposed to tell people before the three month mark," Niall pulls out of the back of his head. "Bad luck or something."
"This is big, Niall," Zayn says, his face kind and not like Niall is the worst person in the world at the moment. This band is so nice.
"Yeah, I know. And I'm really happy about, I am. But it still feels not-real at the moment? Like a dream. Telling my family will make it real."
"That's a good thing, though, isn't it?" Liam says gently.
Niall nods quickly. "Uh-huh. I'm just -- overwhelmed I think." Is that allowed? He's allowed to say that, isn't he? Louis says it all the time and they're very similar usually but this makes everything different. "I'm excited, guys."
"Hey, we get it, Ni," Zayn says, and then he tugs at Niall's arm and pulls him over sideways into a hug. "Tell them when you're ready, okay?"
Ready comes later when he thinks Louis has fallen asleep. He carefully pulls his arm out from under her and reaches for his phone on the table behind his head, accidentally nudging her chest with his elbow.
"Niall?"
"Yeah, Lou?" Not sleeping then.
She shifts into an upright position, yawning through her next words. "What're you doing?"
"Was going to tell my mum, actually."
"About the baby? About me?"
"Yeah."
He watches the smile spread across Louis's face until she's grinning. She leans in to kiss him, mouth soft and dry from her nap. "Good luck."
"Aw don't say that. How'd your mum take it?"
"My mum was mostly surprised it was you," Louis says, laughing when Niall huffs. "You'll be fine. They all want grandkids in the grand scheme of things. We're giving them what they want."
"Yeah they should be thanking us for continuing the One Direction line," Niall laughs, feeling calmer than before. "I'm just going to..." he gestures out to the balcony. It's only gone six, London is still light.
"Niall." Louis touches Niall's wrist as he lifts himself off the couch. "The faster you say it the easier it is."
"Thanks for the tip." He kisses her again, for confidence and luck as though he's walking into a sword fight instead of calling the people he loves most.
Quick and easy works. At least, he's guessing it does.
"Are you crying, ma?"
"I'm just so surprised, Niall," she says and she doesn't sound angry, he doesn't think, which is good, right? "But I'm thrilled! Another baby in the family! Oh God, another grandchild."
"Don't say I'm not good to you," Niall jokes, huffing a laugh down the phone.
"Oh, Niall," his mum sighs. "I really can't believe it. You're all grown up now."
"Hey I'm only twenty one. Louis's only twenty three."
"You're right -- you're young yet." A pause. "And how are you feeling about all of this, Niall?"
"Good, why?"
"It's a huge thing for you and Louis. A big commitment."
"Yeah. That's what everyone's been saying."
"I didn't know you and Louis were even involved."
"Mm. It's been a while actually."
"Oh, I had no idea." Again, she doesn't sound displeased but you just don't know, do you.
"Yeah it was sort of a secret," he admits, though secret seems to trivialise, making it sound like something needing hidden. It was fun and easy and something he never expected. "We weren't expecting this bit," he says honestly.
"But you're happy?" He's been saying he is for weeks and never quite being sure how truthful he is but now that he's told his mum he feels better about everything, and he realises that yeah, he really is, completely honest. "That's good," his mum says decisively, and then she says, "Is Louis there? I want to say congratulations."
Niall glances back inside to see Louis stretched out on the couch; he leans in closer, watches the steady rise and fall of her chest. "She's sleeping at the moment, I'll pass it on?"
His mum starts talking about when she was pregnant with him and Greg, who was worse than who, how long her morning sickness lasted, and Niall should be listening to all of this, he knows, but instead he watches Louis curl her knees up under her arms, twisting out again to stretch, and closes his eyes to the calm that washes over him.
.
(six months)
When he lies still like this he can hear Louis breathing beside him, steady, peaceful. She’s curled up on her side, one arm pillowing her head and one leg pushed between Niall’s. His body feels warmer where she’s pressed against him and that could be taken as sentimental or romantic but mostly it’s because Louis runs like a furnace. She mumbles something into the crook of her arm and Niall rolls closer, careful to keep them linked at all the same places.
They’re going home tomorrow. To Ireland.
They’ve all been there before, of course they have, but this time it’s just him and Louis because he hasn’t seen his mum since he told her the news over the phone and they still have all this time off. He hasn’t been home with just Louis before, not since they started the casual sex arrangement and not before either. He knows nothing will be different really, she’s still Louis, but his mind has taken to warping things into different meanings recently. It's probably a medical condition, he'll ask his dad.
He takes her hand when they get out of the car because one: it feels like the right thing to do, the evidence coming in the form of two: Louis has gone quiet, her eyes wide under her beanie and her hand trembling slightly in his, he’s supporting her, and three: he likes the way their hands fit together, so in the end it's all selfish really.
“Your mum’s not going to go mental at me, is she?” Louis asks just before the reach the front door.
The quietness of the question makes Niall stop, frowning at its absurdity. “Of course not, why would she?”
Louis kicks at a stone that’s rolled out of place from the space beside the flowerbed and does that self-deprecating laugh she’s so good at when she doesn’t want people to think she’s being serious. See, Niall knows her inside out, she has to deal with that. “I’ve knocked up her youngest son.”
“You do know that’s not how it works, right?” Last month Louis had spent a whole day researching seahorses, banging the laptop every few minutes, because the male carries the baby with seahorses and that’s the way it should be, it’s your fucking sperm, Horan. “Mum loves you, you know that.” It’s true. He thinks his mam might like Louis more than she likes him. Most mums are like that, he’s discovered.
Running a hand over her bump, Louis looks up at him. She's getting big now. You can tell there's something in there. A baby.
He reaches out and cups her chin, making sure she understands. "You're going to be fine." She nods once, her hand lifting to touch his, and she doesn't look so close to the edge now so he kisses her forehead then takes her hand and leads her to the door. It all feels shockingly domestic and that thought doesn't seem so bad. Feels kind of great, actually. "So, here's what we'll do: I'll make us some tea and then you can go for a lie down and by the time --"
"Niall."
"What?"
"No one's answering the door. Anyway, why are you even knocking? This is your house."
He shrugs, ducking his head against his shoulder. "Dunno. Just something I always do. Makes me mam laugh, she always acts like she didn't know I was coming." He jiggles the door handle. "Shit."
"You did tell her we were coming didn't you?"
"Yes. She nearly cried down the phone, couldn't wait to see us. I told you this. You spoke to her."
Louis rolls her eyes. "You're an idiot."
"I find it really hurtful and offensive when you call me that, actually," Niall says, just because he feels at this moment in time he really is an idiot. Where is his mum? He phoned this morning. "Least it's sunny."
"Now you've said that it'll start pissing it down," Louis says before she carefully lowers herself to the ground. It's odd, Niall thinks, to see Louis being so careful of her movements. Before she would throw herself into a pile of boys in the studio or climb eight feet walls but now every shift of her body is thought out, constantly aware of the changes her body is going through. He looks down at her crouched on his childhood doorstep, her bump protruding slightly over her waistband, and wonders what would've happened if they had been more careful or they'd considered the other option. If you believe in the theory that there's more than one universe, apparently all these scenarios could be happening at once. Niall sits down next to Louis. He likes sticking to the present.
"I'll ring her now, alright?" He catches the feeble punch aimed at his knee, twisting the threaded bracelet on Louis's wrist as he digs his phone out of his pocket.
Turns out he'd told his mum the wrong flight number and she'd popped out to get some bread and biscuits. "The spare key's under the plant pot." She doesn't react well to the admission that Niall might have left it in London after he stuck it in his jeans pocket last time he was home and forgot to take it of before he left. "And what if we'd needed it while you were away?" The observation that it's lucky they're not forgetful doesn't go down well, either. "Apologise to Louis, will you? The wrong flight number, I mean really."
"My mum says she's so sorry, she completely forgot we were coming," he says cheerfully as he hangs up, settling onto the step beside her.
Louis laughs, leans her head on his shoulder. "You're a dirty liar. I could hear her through the phone. God. I would kill for a Custard Cream right now."
"If it's any consolation I can pretty much guarantee there's a tin of them in the kitchen. You know, I've climbed in that window a dozen times. More --" he's standing up to do it, too, but Louis shakes her head, pulls him back down again. "I'll survive."
“Don’t say I didn’t offer.”
.
Later, when they’ve caught up with everything worth catching up on and watched three hours of bad telly, Niall’s mum gets to her feet with a sigh. “Well. I’m off to bed. I changed your bed earlier, Niall, so you and Louis will have clean sheets at least in that tip --"
Louis looks up from the TV. "Oh, are we --?"
"We're sharing?"
His mum looks at them like they've got six heads between them. "Honestly." She rolls her eyes and passes a hand over Louis's head. "I'll see you in the morning."
They mumble their replies, the shift in the room making it hard to swallow. They've shared a bed before, obviously, so many times. It's just. Everything feels different now, that bit more intense, important, despite their efforts not to let anything change, and this is his childhood bed, everything's different when a childhood bed is brought into it, isn't it?
"It's so warm," Louis says into the material of her dress as she tugs it over her head. "Open the window, will you?"
Niall leans over to do just that, his finger catching on the latch. "I'm warning you now -- children play out there in the mornings and their screaming is enough to wake the dead."
"Maybe that'll be good practice," Louis says, picking up a magazine lying on the chest of drawers. She rests a hand on the small of her back, bending her body back slightly as she flicks through the pages. Standing in her underwear with her messy hair and swollen belly she simultaneously looks out of place and right at home here in Niall's little room with his Irish flag on the wall and stuffed animals peeking out from under the bed. "Aw look, here's us."
"Remember that day?" When Niall had pulled Louis into the tiny dressing room and kissed her until her elbow had got caught in his shirt and ripped it all down one side. He forgets the excuse they came up with, guesses it wasn't very believable, they were never very good at the excuses. "Did the interviewer not ask --?"
"If we ever kept secrets from each other?" Louis finishes, a cackle following it. "You're the worst liar, Niall. Christ, how did we manage for so long? Not even Zayn guessed."
Niall flops back onto his bed and hooks an arm around Louis's waist so she falls beside him. "Maybe he did and he just didn't want to say anything."
"Lovely Zayn," Louis sighs, her breath hitting Niall's cheek, and then she cups that cheek with her hand and leans in and kisses him. It's almost ridiculous the way kissing Louis still affects him this way even with the familiarity and easiness layering over the jolt of happiness he feels in his stomach every time they acknowledge the relationship building between them. Niall rolls back so Louis is above him, the bump resting between them. He runs his hands down her sides around to her back, smiling into the kiss when Louis giggles and bites at his lip. "Feels funny, doesn't it? Doing it in your bed."
"Mm." Niall feels for clasp of Louis's bra. "Not as funny as I was expecting."
"Well then," Louis grins, her fingers skating down to his ribs, resting lightly. "I'll have to make you laugh using other means."
It all dissolves from there into muffled laughs and sharp intakes of breath when a hand presses at an non-ticklish spot. They pull themselves together enough to curl under the covers, Louis's feet shoved between Niall's shins because she's freezing now with the window open. He smoothes a hand over her hair when she tucks her head under his chin and when that flash feeling of domestically punches him again he rolls with it.
.
(eight months)
They're in the home run now, hurtling towards the end faster than Niall can blink. In about month this stage is going to be over and then they're going to be in for a whole new game, new characters and everything. Comparing it to sports and games calm Louis down when she gets that panicky look in her eye because she's good at sports and games, lots of them, she can win at them. Obviously a baby is not a game but surely the metaphor carries over in some ways. Surely.
"How about we move this line up here into the bridge?"
"It won't flow as well there, will it?"
Louis hums, tapping her fingers on her belly. She swears under her breath then starts again, counting the syllables out loud. "Not as well," she admits. "But it makes it choppier, we could go down that road?"
Niall scribbles out a long beat that drags on for too long further down the page, chewing idly on the pen as he considers the overall rhythm. "Could do. If we're doing that it makes more sense to bring the drums in on their own here, see?"
"True." Louis takes the pen from his mouth and makes the adjustments, smiling this time when she tries it out. "Yeah. That works."
Because the due date is so close now Louis has been restricted to not very much at all, someone she understands but resents. Not that she's missing much seeing as they're on a break for the time being -- Niall went to the gym earlier for half an hour before he came back to the flat to sit on the couch with her and that's the most active he's been in a week. For the last fortnight Louis and Niall's days have been made up of sex, TV and song-writing. So, it's not as bad as it sounds.
"Hey," Louis breathes a moment later, stilling in a way Niall has come to know. "They're off again."
Niall places his hand low on her stomach, feeling for a second before Louis moves him along round to her side. He's felt it countless times over the past few months but it's still incredible when something taps at his palm from the inside of Louis. "Hi, baby."
"You want to try reading again?" Louis murmurs, her voice low as through anything louder will scare away the kicking. "We're so close now..."
It's as Niall's coming back through from the bedroom with the book in his hand and Louis smiles up at him, tired but happy, he realises how lucky he is, to be here with Louis in this life that hasn't felt real since they got put together in a group on a huge stage in an echoey arena. He grins back at her, sits back down again, and opens the book.