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"I want jam," Sophie says, staring up at the ceiling with her arms folded over her chest defiantly. She'd gotten nearly all the way dressed before she flopped back down into bed and started demanding fruit spreads. "I want jam and toast."
"You already had breakfast, darling," Nick says, kneeling over her on the bed. "Remember? You had porridge. We've got to get ready, Soph. We have to be at the radio by ten."
Unsurprisingly, three-year-old logic doesn't extend to scheduling.
"But I want jam!" Sophie whines. "Daddy lets me have a spoonful of jam whenever I like!"
"That's not true," Nick says, though it may very well be true. God, she'll be toothless by age five. "Daddy's waiting for us, darling. At the radio. Don't you want to see Daddy?"
"I just want jam," Sophie sighs mournfully. "It's all I want."
Right, then. Enough bloody jam talk. Nick puts his hand under her back to pull her upright, and she struggles against his arm, whining.
"I know, I know, I'm so mean," he says, clucking in his throat. "God, remember when you couldn't talk?"
That shuts her up for a second.
"... no," she says finally, muffled against his shoulder.
"There was this whole time, Soph, when you were just a little baby, and all you could say was goo-goo ga-ga," Nick explains, distracting her long enough to set her on the daybed and wrestle socks onto her feet. She kicks at him, half-heartedly.
"Really?"
"Yep. And you didn't eat jam at all. Just milk. And mashed sweet potatoes."
"Ewww," Sophie says, face screwing up in comic disgust.
"It was a simpler time," Nick sighs, holding both her ankles in one hand while he fumbles for her wellies. They're bright yellow and still small enough to make Nick's heart go wobbly when he looks at them.
A bloody pain to get on, though. Three full minutes later he's panting, Sophie's wriggling, and they're finally nearly ready to go.
"Alright!" he says, exhaling hard, standing up and lifting her onto his hip. She grabs his neck, and he untangles her hands gently. "We're off to see daddy!"
He's expecting at least mild excitement, maybe another jam request, but all he gets is a soft snore. She's gone and passed out on his shoulder.
Nick huffs a laugh, grabbing his keys and wallet with one hand and stuffing them into the pocket of his jacket. She's as narcoleptic as her dad, always passing out if she's forced to stay still for a minute.
"Here we go, love," he says, throwing a biscuit to Pig, who doesn't wake up even when it hits her square in the nose. "Say bye-bye to Pig dog."
"Bye-bye, Piggy," Sophie mumbles.
"Good girl," Nick says, kissing the top of her head and locking the door behind them. Ah, there's the car, idling outside. Just in time.
There're actually a few paps on the street, which is rare nowadays. Nick supposes, with Harry's touted return to music, they might come crawling out of the woodwork for the occasion.
"Morning, Grimmy!" one of them calls. "Good morning, Sophie! Excited for Harry's debut?"
"Morning," Nick says mildly, not looking at him, opening the car door. Sophie doesn't wake up as he settles her into the carseat. Thank god. He pulls the straps over her chest, as her head lolls onto her shoulder.
The paps don't follow him, but one gives a wave as they drive away.
They get dropped off in the underground lot to avoid the crowd out front. Sophie wakes back up when Nick gets past security, rubbing her eyes sleepily and pouting at everyone who stops to coo at her and kiss Nick on the cheek.
"In on a Saturday, Grims, I can't believe this," Annie says when he shoulders his way into her office. She's going on in a half hour to introduce Harry, so naturally, she's chugging caffeine and ignoring her producers. True radio legend, that one.
"Heard some popstar's doing a Live Lounge, or summat," Nick says, laughing when Annie holds out her arms for Sophie. He plops her in Annie's lap, relievedly, and Sophie immediately reaches up for a handful of brown corkscrew curls.
"Good morning, princess," Annie says, brushing Sophie's own dark curls off her face. "You alright?"
Sophie nods, blinking heavily.
"Bit knackered," Nick says, pulling Annie's coffee mug towards him and taking a gulp. "No clue why, she slept for about a decade last night."
"Y'tired, love?" Annie murmurs. "I bet your dads tire you right out, huh. They're mental, aren't they?"
"Yeah," Sophie sighs long-sufferingly.
"Can you not turn my child against me?" Nick snorts. "At least not while I'm in the same room? Where is her dad, anyway?"
"Soundcheck," Annie says. "He's got quite the setlist, Grim. I'll bring the tissues, you'll need 'em."
"Oh noo, is it going to be cheesy?" Nick groans.
Annie gives him a look. "It's Harry bleedin' Styles, babe, yeah, it's going to be an absolute sobfest."
Nick rubs his hand over his face to hide his stupid grin.
Sophie lifts her head, peering at Annie and chewing her lip thoughtfully.
"May I have some jam, please?" she says, very politely.
"Of course you can, doll," Annie says, before Nick can protest. Nick rolls his eyes. "Goodness gracious, your dads won't give you jam? That won't do, will it. What flavor do you like? Strawberry, blackberry..."
She whisks Sophie out of the room, and Nick leans back in the office chair, exhales slowly and shuts his eyes.
The door creaks open, and Nick sits up, blinking, ready to apologize to whatever producer's annoyed at Nick encroaching on their turf.
But it's not Annie's producer. It's Harry. His hair's pulled back and he's in too-tight skinny jeans and glittery grey boots and one of Nick's t-shirts, the Lauryn Hill one with the hole at the bottom hem.
"Morning, dad," he says, and Nick pouts at him, even as Harry climbs unselfconsciously onto his lap, right there in the chair, spreading his thighs to straddle Nick's. Something cracks in his hip, but something always cracks when Harry moves. He's got old-man bones.
"Good morning, Frankie," Nick says back, and Harry laughs, kisses him. His mouth tastes of coffee and bacon and he puts his hand in Nick's hair, tugs his face up to get at his mouth, sucking Nick's bottom lip.
Nick hums against Harry's mouth, running his palms down Harry's warm, solid back, grips his soft hips. Harry shivers against him.
When he pulls back he's breathless, just a little.
"You nervous?" Nick asks, skimming his fingers over the part of Harry's hip that's bulging out of his jeans. Harry wriggles ticklishly, reaches down to yank up his jeans over the flesh.
"They're too tight," Nick murmurs, laughing. "Need new ones."
Harry shrugs.
"Yeah," he says. "Nervous. Feel sick."
"It's only a Live Lounge." Nick runs his hand into Harry's hair, undoes the bun. Harry shakes out his hair, combs through it with his fingers and Nick inhales the scent of Harry's coconut shampoo. "You'll kill it, popstar. I've heard you practicing."
"Haven't heard all of it," Harry mumbles, tucking his face against Nick's neck like he's shy. "Where's Soph?"
"Annie took her to get some jam."
Harry nods.
"So we've got some time to ourselves," he says, an eyebrow raising.
"Oh yeah, baby," Nick laughs. "We've got like a minute and a half, let's make the most of it."
Harry grins down at him, and presses their mouths together again.
They're still snogging when the door opens again.
"Daddy!" Sophie cheers, just as Annie says, laughing, "Honestly, lads?"
Harry pulls off, licking his mouth, eyes gone drowsy. He slips off Nick's lap and pulls Sophie up into his arms, his shirt riding up as he lifts her.
"Good morning, Soph-a-doph," he says, smacking a kiss on her cheek. Nick sticks his tongue out at Annie when she wags a finger at him.
"Morning daddy," Sophie says, giving him a sticky jam-smeared kiss on the mouth. Harry huffs a laugh.
"What's that, raspberry?"
"Strawberry, on toast," Annie says, blowing Harry a kiss as she ducks out of the room again. "See you in a bit, babe."
"Mm, yummy," Harry murmurs, kissing Sophie's forehead. "Strawberry jam on toast, aren't you a lucky girl."
The door opens again, and a producer Nick vaguely recognizes sticks his head in.
"Mr. Styles, you're on in fifteen, there's a couple more things to finish up," he says. "Hi, Grimmy."
Nick waves.
Harry kisses Sophie again and carefully deposits her in Nick's lap.
"Love you," he says, running his knuckles down Nick's cheek and kissing his mouth.
"Love you too." Nick licks his lips, tasting strawberry. "Be good out there."
Harry's mouth twists up halfway, nervous.
"Say good luck to your dad, sweetheart," Nick says to Sophie, jogging her in his arms as she unzips his hoodie. "He's about to go sing. He's about to kill it."
"G'luck with singing," Sophie says dutifully, grabbing Nick's phone out of his pocket and offering it to him to unlock. "Daddy, put your finger on it."
Harry laughs down at the two of them, and turns to go.
Nick watches Sophie play Fruit Ninja for ten minutes, until Annie pops back in, says, "C'mon in, then, Grim. Saved you a seat. Let's do dis."
---
Maida Vale's packed full, the whole crowd humming with excitement at the long-awaited debut of Harry Styles, solo artist. That's simplifying it a bit, though. Harry's not - an artist, quite yet, he just - he's just written a few songs, and done a few covers, and they want him to put out an album. They'd like him to tour, once the album's out, and then they'd want another album, and Nick knows how that goes. The cycle of popstar life.
For now, though, just a Live Lounge, recorded and released for purchase if Harry approves. Nick knows Harry's nervous as all hell, because he's used to show after show after show, a million chances to get it right. He's used to his lads around him. He's used to playing to his fans, not to a room of people with no first impression of him yet.
He'll be good, though. He did a mini preview for a few people, in the living room last week, and it was so, so good. Like real actual good music.
A buzz goes through the crowd when Nick comes in behind Annie, and he hears his name a few times. Sophie's peering out at everyone over Nick's shoulder, barely shy at all. Someone must wave to her, because she waves back, and everyone awws. Nick laughs, sits down next to Gemma, who gives him a kiss on the cheek and pulls Sophie out of his lap and onto her own. Niall's sat next to her, and he blows Nick a kiss, laughing when Nick tucks it in his pocket.
"He nervous?" Niall whispers, leaning across Gemma and putting a hand on her knee to reach Nick's ear.
"Bricking it."
Niall winces sympathetically, and then laughs as Sophie shoves his head out of her way. He straightens up in his seat, yanking out his phone.
Annie slides into her seat in the DJ booth, glances at her producer, arching one eyebrow.
"Shall we?" she murmurs.
Her producer nods, counts down with his fingers, and Annie says into mic, "Gooood morning, everyone, and welcome to the Maida Vale studios! I am Annie Mac, here with you on a very special day today. Very special live lounge. We're lucky enough to be welcoming Harry Styles into the Live Lounge today-"
---
Harry ducks into the green room, smiling sheepishly, scrubbing his hair out of his face, and there's a round of applause.
"That was wonderful," his manager says, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Such a good performance, Harry."
"Killed it, Styles!" Annie yells, and Nick lets out a choked sort of laugh, his heart feeling all a sudden too big for his chest. Harry makes his way over to him slow, looking shy.
"Well?" he says, once he's close. Nick fists a hand in Harry's shirt and tugs him into his arms.
"You were so good," he says into Harry's ear. "You were fucking brilliant, Haz. You killed it."
Harry pulls back. He's red down his neck, his eyes dark and wide.
"You mean it?" he asks, quietly.
"God yes." Nick grins. "Made me cry, you bastard."
"Sorry," Harry says reflexively, swiping his thumb over Nick's cheek like he's wiping tears away. "I- you really liked it."
"I loved it." Nick slings his arms around Harry's neck, pulls him closer. There are people taking photos, real photos with a fancy camera, but they can just - go to hell. Nick doesn't give a shit, at the moment. "Fucking hell, Harry, it was so good. The new stuff sounded sick, the covers were - that HAIM cover was so good. So so good. And the - the Beyoncé, holy fuck, Harry. Holy fucking hell. You pulled off Beyoncé. You know how I feel about Beyoncé covers, and I still loved it."
"Thank you," Harry says, bright-eyed and laughing. He kisses Nick on the mouth. "How'd Sophie like it?"
"Ask her yourself." Nick runs his hand through Harry's hair, then steps back, nods at where Sophie is completely distracted, sitting on Ian's lap and giving him high-five after high-five, both of them giggling. Niall's next to them, laughing as Gemma says something into his ear.
"Chaloner," Nick says. Ian looks up. "Give us our baby back. Baby-stealer."
"Baby sitter," Ian says, offended, but he holds Sophie up as Harry reaches out his arms.
"Hi, love," Harry says, voice choked, pressing his forehead to her plump cheek. Oh, Nick knows that voice. Harry's about thirty seconds from crying, cameras be damned.
"Can we, like - can we have a few minutes alone?" Nick says hastily to Annie, keeping his voice low.
Annie stops chatting, squeezes his arm reassuringly. "Right, everyone out!" she yells, and in ten seconds flat the room's empty except for the three of them.
Harry has his eyes closed, one big hand cupped around the back of Sophie's head. She's clinging to him like a limpet, arms around his neck, uncharacteristically quiet like she can sense he needs it.
"Alright, popstar?" Nick asks gently.
"Yeah," Harry says, not opening his eyes. "Yeah, I'm good."
Nick huffs a laugh.
"Love you," Harry murmurs against Sophie's face. "Love you, love you, love you."
Nick turns away, scrubs discreetly at his eyes.
"Didn't your dad do so good?" he says, sniffing in hard. "Wasn't he so good at singing, Soph?"
Sophie nods, face still smushed to Harry's neck. "You sang good, daddy."
"Thank you, baby," Harry mumbles.
"She was rocking out, she's just being shy now," Nick says, letting out a choked laugh. "She was fully into it."
Harry blinks at him over Sophie's head, smiling all watery.
"Daddy?" Sophie says quietly, touching Harry's cheeks with both of her small hands.
"Yeah, sweetheart."
"Can I get down?"
Harry laughs hoarsely, sets her down on the floor, and she crawls up onto the sofa next to Nick, starts reaching for where his phone's always tucked in his right pocket.
"No, Soph, not right this second," Nick says, taking her hand so she can't get at it.
"Daaaaad-"
"It's your dad's special day and we're paying attention to him," Nick says, reaching out and tugging Harry's shirt down, biting his lip in a smile at the faded logo. Harry's flushed again, looking loved-up and happy. "He's very special and important, despite his terrible outfit."
Harry punches him, grinning. Sophie looks unimpressed.
"Can we have ice cream?" she asks, sitting back with a whump, kicking her little legs out in front of her, boots bouncing on the sofa.
"She always wants sweets," Nick breathes out to Harry.
"That's your fault," Harry laughs.
"That's you! I'm not the one giving her a spoonful of jam every five seconds."
Harry scrubs his palm over his face, grinning. "Sod it, let's go get ice cream. Then straight to the dentist."
---
They drop Sophie off at Gemma's house post-ice cream. She can deal with a sugared-up toddler, cos Harry deserves the afternoon off.
"Mark?" Harry says, leaning forward in the backseat of the car. "Mind putting up the partition?"
Nick laughs. "What's this then, Mrs. Carter?"
Harry watches the screen roll up, and Nick tips his head against the seat, staring at him.
"Feeling saucy, Styles?"
Harry goes to his knees on the floor of the car, pushing Nick's legs open, and Nick chokes on his own breath. He was kidding.
"Haz-"
"Shh," Harry says, unzipping Nick's jeans, and Nick slides a hand into his hair, up for it.
"Go on then," he says, quietly, laughing, wriggling forward and splaying his thighs as far as they can go in his jeans. "We've got about five minutes. Let's see how far you can get."
---
He lifts Harry's soft wet mouth off his dick as they pull up to the house. There are paps outside, and Nick hurriedly tucks himself back in, skin hot, breath shuddering in and out.
"You absolute fucking menace," he hisses. "You knew there'd be cameras."
Harry's grinning, mouth swollen. "Got pretty far, didn't I?"
Nick pinches Harry's nipple and Harry shivers, wiping his slick mouth.
"Let's get inside," he says, as Nick tugs his shirt down over his half-hard dick, scrubbing the flush off his cheeks with one hand. "Got something to show you."
Nick hums dubiously and follows Harry inside.
Something turns out to be a blindfold, made of black silk with a very dark blue around the edges.
"Why the hell do you even have this?" Nick asks, laughing as he pulls the blindfold out of a small bag that's apparently been under the bed. Nick should check under there more often. Harry's standing in front of him, fidgeting. "Like when did you buy it?"
"Dunno, a few months ago," Harry says, as he yanks off his shirt. Nick takes a quick moment to appreciate the torso underneath. Tattoos, nipples, abs, hips. Very good. All accounted for.
"You didn't tell me?"
Harry ducks his head and shrugs.
"Didn't know if you'd be into it. Like, I know it's not a big thing exactly, but-"
Nick huffs a laugh. "Love, I'm into whatever you're into."
"That's not true. What about last Christmas-"
"You tried to blow me in your parents' kitchen!" Nick yelps. "That's not a kink!"
"They were asleep!"
"Your mum was not asleep, Harry. I heard her coming downstairs."
Harry rolls his eyes.
"Aaanyway," Nick says. "Time is short, love. Gem's going to have Sophie back here by five. Is it just the sleep mask, or is it-"
"It's not a sleep mask," Harry says, pouting. "It's a sexy blindfold. And I thought, like. Like maybe you could tie my wrists."
"Oh, did you buy cuffs as well? Little sex shopping spree? What else is lurking under our bed?"
Harry shakes his head. "I thought, uhh. Maybe with-"
He swallows. Nick watches him.
"Maybe with your tie?" Harry says, very casually. "That Prada one?"
Nick grins, raising an eyebrow. "A specific tie, huh, Styles?"
"The one you wear," Harry says, stepping closer to him. He slides his arms around Nick's neck, and just like that Nick's gone, entranced, like a switch flicking on in his brain. "With that navy blue suit. Like to the Brits last year. You looked so fucking hot."
He kisses Nick's neck, and Nick shivers gently, buries his hand in Harry's hair.
"You know, a blindfold's very desperate-housewife," he says into Harry's ear. "Very 50 Shades of Grey."
He's mostly taking the piss, so it's a surprise when Harry gives a long shudder, exhales hotly against Nick's neck.
"Is that what this is about?" Nick says, before he sinks his teeth into Harry's earlobe. He tugs gently. Harry groans. "Bit bored, are you, Styles? Looking for a good time?"
"Not bored." Harry's voice is rough.
"I think you are. Always sat in the house with Sophie writing songs. Lonely. You miss me when I'm doing the radio, don't you?"
Harry smiles into Nick's skin.
"You want to spice things up," Nick murmurs, huffing out a laugh.
"I think we're plenty spicy," Harry says, slowly. Nick's stroking the back of his neck.
"Do you?" Nick kisses him, just a teasing nip at his bottom lip. "You ever get yourself off listening to my show? The way you used to?"
Harry ducks his head.
"Oh my god, you do," Nick says delightedly.
"I don't - I - only when Soph's asleep."
"Sophie's always asleep during my show," Nick says. "2 to 5, that's like prime toddler naptime. Oh my god, I can't believe this. You're so shameless."
Harry rolls his eyes, pulling Nick in by the back of his head to kiss him.
Nick breaks off after a minute, gasping, and Harry leans in to suck a bite into Nick's neck. Bloody trashbag. Nick'll have to wear a scarf tomorrow, and Sara'll give him shit.
"Stop bloody wanging on about my wank habits," Harry says, breathlessly. "I just want you to tie me up and fuck me. Not that much to ask."
He sucks at Nick's tongue for a hot hard minute, whining when Nick pulls away.
"Niiick. C'mon."
He's so lovely, standing in front of Nick and asking to be fucked. It's not common, if Nick's honest. Nick hates to call it a routine, but - well, their routine is mostly handjobs during the week, maybe mutual before-bed blowjobs if Sophie hasn't crashed the party and demanded to sleep with them, and then actual sex on the weekends. Most weekends. Harry fucking Nick on Saturday or Sunday when Sophie's taking her nap or she's out with one of her aunts.
Harry's watching him, chewing his bottom lip.
"We don't have to," he says.
"Oh god, love. I want to. I'm just-" he shakes himself. If Harry wants something a bit different, Nick'll give it to him.
Harry blinks at him plaintively.
"I'm just thinking of how I want to fuck you," Nick says, making it low and quiet, sliding his hands onto Harry's face and cupping his cheeks. "Which way you'll take it best. Been a while, hasn't it? You'll be - you'll be tight for me."
Harry's eyes flutter. Bit easy for dirty talk, is Harry Styles.
"All I want to do, love," Nick murmurs. "Is to take care of you, yeah? You've worked really hard today."
He kisses Harry's nose and then his soft mouth.
"Nick," Harry breathes.
"Shh, sh. Get in bed, Haz, we'll sort you out. Sleep mask and Prada tie and all."
Harry's mouth quirks up.
"Love you," he says.
"Yeah, you're alright. Now get on the bed."
---
Harry's phone rings when Nick's got two fingers inside him, slick with lube, sliding in and out of his arse.
"Mmph," Harry chokes out against the bedspread - he's on all fours with his arse in the air and his head down, blindfold on, hands tied behind his back. All trussed up, shiny with sweat, almost hilariously obscene in the quiet of their usually-tame bedroom. He struggles to turn his head so he can speak. "Fuck, s'that my phone?"
"Yeah," Nick sighs, wiping his fingers on Harry's arsecheek, watching his hole quiver, empty. Christ, he can't wait to feel Harry around him.
"Whozit?"
Nick peers at the screen. "Shit, it's Gemma. I should get it. Sit tight, love."
"I can get it," Harry says, voice strained.
"No you can't," Nick says cheerily, giving him a nice firm slap on the arse. "Sit tight."
Harry gasps against the mattress at the smack, and Nick picks up the phone.
"Hiya, Auntie Gem!"
"Hii, Nick," she says, amused. "How's things? Where's my brother?"
"Can't come to the phone at the minute. How's Soph?"
"She's fine. She actually wanted to talk to you. Or Harry, whatever. Daddy. Dunno which one."
Nick sighs. "Really? Now?"
"I know, I'm sorry. You're having alone time or whatever. But she insists. I can't resist that face. And also she said she hated me, and I immediately caved to her emotional abuse."
Nick huffs a laugh. He rubs his palm over the soft curve of Harry's arse, and then stands up, covering the mouthpiece.
"I'll be in the toilet for one minute, Haz," he whispers.
"Hurry," Harry says through gritted teeth.
"I will, promise."
"Is she alright?"
"She's fine. I'll be right back."
He ducks into the en-suite, and says to Gemma, "Put her on, then, please."
Five seconds later Sophie's whining down the line.
"Daddy," she says, sniffling.
"What is it, darling?"
"I- I left Rexy at home and Auntie Gemma hasn't got him."
Nick covers his face with one hand. Rexy, aka Rex, aka That Fucking Thing, is Sophie's favorite toy. He's a teddy bear in a weird little polyester tuxedo wearing a purple top hat, utterly tacky and given to her by Nick's brother. Andy probably won it at a bloody carnival. Nick hates it.
"Sophie, love, you'll be home in just an hour or two. You'll see Rexy then."
"I want him now," Sophie says thunderously.
"Well, you can't have him now, Sophie."
"But- but I can't sleep without Rexy," Sophie whimpers.
"Baby," Nick says softly. "You'll sleep with him tonight, I promise. But right now you've just got to try and nap, alright? Just try. And be nice to Auntie Gemma."
"Daddy-"
"Put your aunt on the line, please, Soph," Nick says, glancing out of the half-open door to where Harry's still on the bed.
"Daaaa-"
"Sophie!" Nick says, more firmly. "Give the phone to Auntie Gemma."
"Ahh, hey," Gemma says after what sounds like a scuffle, her voice exhausted.
"She's being a pill today, I'm sorry. You don't have to put her down if you don't want to, she can just sleep when she gets back. Or put a film on, maybe, that helps."
Gemma yawns audibly. "Alright."
"Thanks, Gem."
"Harry's alright?"
Nick huffs a laugh. "He's fine. Bit impatient, though. I better go. Thanks, love, see you soon-"
He hangs up before Gemma can respond, flicks the phone on silent.
When he puts a hand on Harry's back he twitches with surprise, and then shivers when Nick strokes over his bound arms, muscles taut. That must be starting to hurt. Nick might have to undo those before they're through.
"Nick?" Harry asks hoarsely.
"Just me, love."
"Is she alright? Does she need to come home?"
"She's absolutely fine," Nick says gently, picking up the lube and drizzling some into the center of his palm. He thumbs over the slick clutch of Harry's hole, feels him tremble for it. "Just spoiled. Now shh, let me take care of you."
---
Harry falls asleep about a minute after they finish, collapses flat into the mattress and goes out like a light.
Nick cleans him off, gently unties his wrists, slips the blindfold off his face. Harry mumbles something low that sounds suspiciously like thank-you. Like he's the one who has to say thank you.
Nick strokes over the swell of Harry's arse, up his back to his neck. Harry's breathing slow and steady, utterly calm, all the tension from the morning fucked right out of him.
Harry'd quite liked it, the wrist-ties and blindfolds business. Didn't feel different for Nick, really, other than actually having to do work for once during sex, but it looked different. Harry with his face down and his arse round and open and up for the taking, begging for it, shivering each time Nick touched him, each time he tugged at the restraints and remembered he couldn't touch himself.
Maybe Nick also enjoyed himself. Just a bit.
Nick leans forward to tug the duvet up over Harry's naked body. Kisses his soft cheek.
He's in the kitchen checking emails when there's a knock at the door. Gemma stumbles inside, Sophie on her hip, passed-out entirely, her legs swaying. She's dressed in lavender fleecy pyjamas, feet still tucked into her yellow wellies.
"Hiiii," Gemma says in a stage-whisper. Nick laughs at the sight of them.
"Hi, loves. Guess someone got to sleep without Rexy, didn't she?"
"The film thing was genius. Put on some Disney and she passed right out."
Nick takes Sophie out of Gemma's arms, and she settles right back in, head against Nick's neck, a heavy warm weight.
"I'll put her down," he says softly. "Maybe let her kip with her dad. Think they're both pretty exhausted. Put the kettle on, won't you?"
Gemma nods, kicking off her ankle boots, and Nick turns around.
Harry's still fast asleep, and Nick lays Sophie out on her back on the clean side of the bed next to Harry. He pulls off her boots, carefully tugs the elastic out of her hair, curls springing wildly over the pillow.
He watches them both for a minute, Harry sprawled on his belly and Soph on her back. It's a bit too perfect to not take a photo of, so he pulls out his phone, snaps a few. The duvet's tugged high enough that Harry's not indecent.
He opens up Instagram, picks one of the photos and types: Knaaaaaackered. He adds three Zz emojis, a cloud, a smug moon, and seven blue hearts.
Nick hits Send and leans down to give them both a kiss, stroking his palm over dark curls and slack faces. They're so alike when they sleep. It's one of those things that makes Nick want to cry every time he thinks of it, so he tries not to.
He can't resist kissing them again, before he stands up and goes back to the kitchen for a cup of tea.
---
"You know," Harry says, late that night, once Gemma's left, dinner's been made, and multiple songs have been sung to get a sugared-up nap-fresh Sophie to fall asleep. Nick looks up from his Ipad, turns the new Banks album down to a low murmur, pushing his glasses up his nose.
"Yeah, Haz?"
"If I do this," Harry says, turning to him in bed, wriggling his cold feet under Nick's thigh. His hair's down, tucked behind his ears, and he looks knackered, bright-eyed with exhaustion. "Like - the music, again, if I properly do it, with - with an album, or whatever. It's going to mean, like."
He exhales roughly.
"It's going to mean, like, people starting to pay a bit more attention, again," he says, biting his lip, looking up at Nick. "To me. To us. Not that it's been - not that they haven't been, but like, it could get mental again."
"Think you're that good, do you?" Nick teases, and Harry rolls his eyes.
"You know what I mean."
"I do know."
"Cameras everywhere, people outside the house-" Harry stops, inhaling. He lets it out slow. "Like. I just - I want to be careful. You know? Because she's the most important thing, you know that."
Nick nods, slipping his hand down to tangle with Harry's on the bed. Harry squeezes, hard.
"You didn't say any of this before," Nick says softly.
Harry huffs a laugh, ducks his head. "Cos I thought no one'd give a shit after they heard me."
He's mad. He's absolutely mad.
"Well that's stupid," Nick says calmly. "Considering you were bloody brilliant today."
Harry keeps his head down. His ears are pink. He's shy about this, in a way he never was about One Direction. Nick's fascinated by it, because Harry's so, so good. He's so naturally good, and interesting to watch, and pretty, and a perfect showman. And that's not even to mention his voice.
"I just - I just. Do you think this is a good idea?" Harry asks, lifting his eyes to Nick's.
Nick considers the question, while Harry fidgets and watches him.
"Does it make you happy?" he says finally.
Harry's mouth twists. "I care less about me being happy than I do about you and Soph being alright."
"Answer the question, popstar. Does it make you happy."
Harry looks at him. Nods.
"Then we'll make it work." Nick tucks a piece of hair behind Harry's ear. "We'll figure it out just fine. We're both old hands at it, aren't we?"
"Not Sophie."
"I know not Sophie. But we'll just be careful. I don't - I don't want you to not do music. Like, you need to do music, Haz."
Harry goes a bit red.
"I could never forgive myself if I stopped you from singing, popstar," Nick says, only half-joking.
Harry reaches out for his hand again.
"Soph'll be proud of you, if you do what makes you happy," Nick murmurs. "I might even be a bit proud of you. A bit."
He lets Harry scoot closer to him, put his face against Nick's shoulder. He's warm, quiet. He gets this way sometimes, a bit think-y, sinks into himself to ponder something. Nick's the type to babble every thought on his mind, so it's weird to him, but. Suppose that's marriage, or commitment, or whatever. He gives Harry his time.
"I love it," Harry says, after a minute. "And I love you. And I want both, but I don't want it to be the way it was before Sophie. I don't want to be away, like, I don't want to miss things."
Nick nods, cupping the back of Harry's head.
"You don't have to be, though, Haz," he says. "That's the best bit about being Harry Styles. You've already won the bloody game, love. You've already done the whole mega-famous popstar thing. People want to hear you, and they'll listen to you if you're in London. They'd listen if you were on a bloody street corner."
Harry huffs a laugh, breath hot against Nick's skin.
"Do it on your terms," Nick says, into his hair, taking a long inhale of Harry's hair, sweet and coconutty. "You're not with the same management, you're not with the other lads. You get to figure it out on your own."
"Scared," Harry mumbles, and Nick's chest tightens.
"Yeah, it's a bit scary."
Harry makes a muffled sound, nuzzles into Nick's neck.
"But you can do it," Nick murmurs. "And if it doesn't go anywhere, we'll be right here. No skin off my back. I've got your popstar fortune on lock already."
Harry laughs sheepishly, pulling back a little bit. He's red around the eyes, and Nick presses his thumb to the hot skin of Harry's cheek.
"You're alright, love," he says quietly.
"I know," Harry says, sniffing in hard, smiling weakly.
"It'll be fine."
"I know." Harry scrubs his hand over his eyes. "I just. Like. Just tell me, if you need me to - to slow it down, or stop, or it's hurting you, the paps and stuff. Can you- can you just tell me? Because sometimes it's like, it's- I don't even know. I'm so, I dunno, hardened by it. Or something. I don't always know when it's getting to be too much. It just feels normal."
He sniffs in hard again.
"I know it's not," he says, low, almost to himself. "Normal, I mean. It's just, like. It's hard for me to tell."
"Hazza," Nick says, gently. "We're never going to be normal. Not properly. That's alright."
Harry looks at him puppy-eyed.
"If what I do makes - Sophie sad, I- I'm not gonna be able to, like-" he stops, voice cracking.
"It doesn't, it won't," Nick mumbles, pulling him in again. "I promise, love. It'll make her happy if you're happy. C'mon, think of Beyoncé. Did she stop singing after she had Blue?"
"I'm not bloody Beyoncé, Nick," Harry says, laughing. "Despite me blowing you in the car today."
Nick snorts. "Sophie's three, she can deal with you being away from her sometimes. And fucking hell, Haz, you should've seen how happy she was today, listening to you."
"Was she really?"
Nick nods, and says, "Oh shit, I completely forgot, I took a little video. Look, look."
He fumbles for his phone, swipes it open.
The video's blurry and dark, but Nick holds it out in front of Harry anyway. Sophie's dancing in front of Nick during "Honey and I", standing up and staring at Harry on stage, wiggling her whole body and hopping on one foot. Nick pans the camera up to Harry briefly before focusing on Sophie again.
"Oh my god," Harry says, breathlessly, pulling the phone closer to his face. He's grinning stupidly. "Ohh, god."
"I know. Told you. She was feelin' it."
Harry laughs, choked in his throat, and rewinds the video to watch again.
They're halfway through when Nick hears a faint yelp from down the hall.
Harry pauses the video, both of them listening.
"Daddy!" Sophie calls, her voice muffled by two doors between them. "Daaaaddy!"
"I'll give you a freebie," Nick says, kissing the side of Harry's mouth and ruffling his hair. "Go to bed. Gonna put your sleepmask on?"
"Fuck off," Harry says easily, laughing at him. He looks back down at the phone and hits play.
---
Sophie's sitting up in her big cozy bed, surrounded by stuffed animals, holding Rexy tightly to her chest.
"Daddy?" she asks in a quavery voice, when Nick slowly opens the door.
"Yeah, love, what's wrong?"
"Can't sleep," she says, wobbly, eyes glistening wet in the light from the window.
"Why not, Soph?" Nick says quietly, sitting at the edge of her bed. She reaches out and grabs his arm in both hands.
"Scared," she whispers. "It's dark."
"Want me to turn a light on?"
"No," she says, pulling on some of his arm hair. Nick winces, gently wrestling his wrist out of her grip. "No. Want to come sleep in your bed."
Nick sighs. "Sophie, what'd we talk about?"
"Don' remember," Sophie says mutinously, holding onto Nick's arm. "Pleaase, Daddy. I'm scared."
It's a losing battle and it's been an eternal fucking day, so Nick relents.
He nudges open the door of his bedroom with Sophie propped on one arm. The lights are off, and Harry's asleep already, curled up on his side.
He opens his eyes when Nick shuts the door, though.
"Hey," he mumbles.
"The princess couldn't sleep," Nick informs him, depositing Sophie on the bed. She immediately crawls towards Harry, wriggling happily under the covers, clutching her bear. Harry huffs a tired laugh, tugging her closer with a hand around her stomach.
"Oh look, you've brought Rexy along, thank you Soph."
"Love sharing the bed with a badly-dressed teddy bear," Nick says, laughing.
"Heyyy," emerges from Sophie's mess of curls, sleepy and offended. Nick grins and strokes her hair off her face.
"You're such a pushover," Harry murmurs.
"Uh, I'm a good dad," Nick corrects him, slipping his glasses off and climbing into bed. He turns to face both of them.
"And I'm Sophie," Sophie says, voice thick with sleep.
Harry snorts.
"Thanks for informing us, Soph," Nick says, running his thumb over her bottom lip. She looks so much like Harry right that second that his heart trips, stumbles in his chest.
She bats his hand away, eyes fluttering shut.
"Love you," Nick says, to Sophie, to Harry. To both of them. To his life.
"Love you," Harry mumbles back.
Sophie snores.
Nick laughs, the kind of laugh he does when there's too much he's feeling, when it's like he'll burst out of his skin.
"Go to sleep, Grim," Harry mutters, without opening his eyes.
"I love you," Nick whispers, low and fierce. "You know that, right?"
"I know," Harry says slowly, reaching one hand out and pulling at the front of Nick's t-shirt, sleepy and familiar. Nick settles obediently into bed, closes his eyes, exhales. How nice, to have someone to put you to bed. How lucky Nick is. "I know. Go to sleep."
---
16.10.2021: HARRY STYLES MAKES SOLO DEBUT AT MAIDA VALE, AND OMG IT WAS GOOD!
Yes, folks, you read that correctly. Everyone's favorite ex-boybander and adorable celebrity dad is back on the scene. Harry Styles (feels good to write that name again!) rocked the music world with his very first solo concert on Saturday. Yes, SOLO. Wipe your tears, Directioners, because Hazza is back sans the band and the results are - dare we say it - incredible. The house was totally rocked.
Harreh's hour-long Maida Vale set included a selection of his own songs, plus a Banks cover (so hip), an old HAIM song (throwback!), a little of his best mate Ed Sheeran, and even… wait for it… a Beyoncé song (GASP!). Not just any Beyoncé song. "1+1", off her 2011 album "4". If you're familiar, that means that Harry Styles himself, patron saint of all things headscarf and biceps, sang the words "make love to me" about eight times. Yes please, Hazza!! Sing Drunk in Love next! (Sorry, Grimmy.)
Speaking of Grimmy, he was there, along with the pair's adorable three-year-old daughter Sophie Anne. Lavender-haired princess Gemma Styles was also in attendance, sitting front-row next to maybe-flame Unofficial Prince of Ireland Niall Horan. Oh, and wait for your heart to melt. Twitter user Styles_me_crazy said: "Soph was ROCKING OUT in the front row. Kept jumping up & down & dancing w/ her little Styles curls bouncing. Excuse me while i GO DIE." Us too, babe. Us too.
We've been watching the concert through way-too-short-and-blurry Instagram vids, but apparently it's going to be made available on DVD and on Itunes by track. After the show, Mr. Styles himself tweeted: "Scary to be on stage alone but what a fun time. Thanks all for coming and clapping. DVD/album will be out shortly. All the love. Xx"
He then tweeted - in a move that definitely made us ugly-sob: "Thanks especially to my incredible husband and my clever girl. Couldn't have done it without you. So lucky I am. Xx"
Swoon. Doesn't it just make your heart grow three sizes? Nick commented on his hubby's debut in an Instagram picture of Sophie giving her dad a standing ovation, with the caption "Your biggest fan @harrystyles #rockstar". Only a few hours later, he posted a heart-melting shot of Harry and his Mini-Me napping together. Apparently they were worn right out from all the excitement. In case you needed any more reason to cry, Haz ended the concert with a rendition of Night Changes. We missed Zayn's silky-smooth riffs, but apparently Harry pulled it off splendidly on his own. One Twitter user even said she caught ol' Grimmers dropping a few tears. Someone get the man a tissue!
We at Sugarscape are absolutely besotted with Hazza's latest endeavor. From boyband to fatherhood to solo debut? Talk about a fairy tale ending.