Summary:
Harry whispers to him that this feels like every dream he's had for the last three years and Louis kisses his temple, behind his ear, across his cheeks and by the edge of his jaw. He runs the back of his finger across Winnie's sleep-warm cheeks and sighs, the weight of the world finally off his shoulder.
Louis' a pediatrician, Harry's a preschooler teacher, and they're having a baby.
***
They decide to call her Winnie around the time that Harry starts waddling like a penguin.
It's like one day Harry's got just his tiny pouch - a soft, round little bump that he shows off so proudly to anyone that'll listen - and then the next day he wakes up and he's big. No more of his little kangaroo pouch, as he liked to refer to it, but bulging out properly so that even a blind man could tell that yeah, Harry is pregnant as hell. Giant, almost, because apparently little Winnie had decided that she'd wanted her presence known already, jeez.
Like a true Tomlinson, always eager for a bit of attention.
Harry embraces it wholeheartedly. He becomes Big Penguin, waddling here and there with his hands on his hips and a wide grin on his face, and his little pouch becomes Baby Penguin - Winnie, for short. What had started out as a silly pet name, Harry earnestly latches onto and genuinely swears that the little Tomlinson inside him loves it just as much as he does. Like father, like daughter, as the saying goes.
He says they have this sort of telepathy thing going, so he knows that she approves of the nickname. They're, like, connected at the soul and shit, quite literally. Louis thinks it's quite cute.
Anyways, that's how little Winnie Tomlinson comes to be.
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Louis finds out on a Friday in April.
He's home early, because it's Friday and it's spring and his mum likes closing early these days to give everyone at the office a head start on the weekend. Sometimes he forgets how amazing it is to work for his mother until Fridays come around and he's home by two in the afternoon, free from sick children and chatty receptionists.
"Haz!" he calls out when he steps through the front door, dropping his keys into the ceramic bowl and toeing off his shoes. "I got lunch on my way home. How do you feel about Greek? Zayn says this place makes the best-" He stops when he realizes that he still hasn't gotten a reply back from his husband. "Harry?" he says a bit louder, walking into the living room and setting the bag of takeout on the coffee table. "Baby, you home?"
Harry's usually home around the time, even on the odd chance that he has to stay behind a little because one of his preschooler's parents is running late. When another minute passes and he still does hear anything, Louis starts to get worried. He'd seen Harry's car in the driveway, so he knows that Harry's home.
Unless he ran out real quick - Louis doesn't know what Harry would run out real quick for, and that's what confuses him. They went grocery shopping just yesterday and they're not expecting any guests, so that's out of the question. On a normal day, Louis' barely got a foot in the door before Harry's jumping at him. He was kinda looking forward to the dramatic leaping into each other's arms and snogging senseless by the front door, too.
At least when he pouts to himself no one's there to call him out on it.
"Harry?" he calls out, searching through the kitchen and the dining room to no avail. "Babe?"
Just as he's about to take out his phone and give his husband a ring, he hears a loud, "Upstairs!" Louis turns to the staircase, a quiet sigh of relief escaping his lips upon finally hearing Harry's voice.
