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magicalrocketshipsOriginally posted here.
LOVERAVE ASKED: in the science can't explain it verse did Nick and Harry just end up with the two children? How badly did the clique and 1D dote on these children? I imagine there was much dotage.
The Robin and Amelia were both accidents, and they’re careful not to do that again. I mean, Nick and Harry adore their children so much that they barely know what do with themselves half the time, but when Harry was pregnant with Amelia, he was on tour for part of that, horny and alone the other side of the world from Nick. It was awful, and they missed each other so much it hurt, and even though Nick isn’t the most organised person in the world, neither of them are, they don’t want to do that again.
But maybe when The Robin is seven or eight, and pestering them to get married so he can wear a suit and be the most important person all day (it’s possible The Robin has a vaguely confused idea about what happens at a wedding), and Amelia has started school, there’s a morning where they’re alone for the first time in forever, the house quiet around them, and Nick says, “they’re growing up, aren’t they?”
“Yep,” Harry says. “Do you ever wish—” he shrugs. “We didn’t plan them.”
“We could, you know,” Nick starts, “well. We’re better planners now.”
“Yeah,” Harry says. “Plus we wouldn’t be going into it blind. Like, we both know how to change a nappy.”
“And how to get peas out of nostrils,” Nick says. That one had been a learning curve for all of them, but Amelia the most. “So.”
“I’m up for planning,” Harry says. “If you are.”
And then they hold hands a bit and talk about nothing and then eighteen months later, there’s a tiny baby boy cradled into the curve of Harry’s elbow, Nick pale and exhausted in the hospital bed beside him, Amelia asleep in the corner, and The Robin taking pictures on his daddy’s phone.
“What do you think about Nigel?” Nick asks. He makes a face like he’s pretending he’s serious.
“Perfect,” Harry says, deadpan. “Although I’ve always liked Clive.” He still can’t rid himself of that terrible fear, sitting low in his belly, that today would go like the last time Nick was in hospital, when Harry thought he’d lost both him and The Robin. He’d remember that feeling until the day he died.
“I don’t think he looks much like a William,” Nick says, at last. The Robin has clambered up onto the bed next to him, and is holding Nick’s hand. William was the name they really had picked out for the baby, but Nick’s right. Their baby doesn’t look like a William.
“Kit,” Harry says, softly. “He looks like a Kit.”
“Kit Styles-Grymshaw,” Nick says. “What do you think, Robin?”
“The Robin is better,” he says, steadfastly. “But Kit’s nice.”
“We’ll see what Bean thinks when she wakes up,” Harry says, but their baby looks like a Kit.
Nick catches his eye over the top of Robin’s head. Yeah.
LOVERAVE ASKED: in the science can't explain it verse did Nick and Harry just end up with the two children? How badly did the clique and 1D dote on these children? I imagine there was much dotage.
The Robin and Amelia were both accidents, and they’re careful not to do that again. I mean, Nick and Harry adore their children so much that they barely know what do with themselves half the time, but when Harry was pregnant with Amelia, he was on tour for part of that, horny and alone the other side of the world from Nick. It was awful, and they missed each other so much it hurt, and even though Nick isn’t the most organised person in the world, neither of them are, they don’t want to do that again.
But maybe when The Robin is seven or eight, and pestering them to get married so he can wear a suit and be the most important person all day (it’s possible The Robin has a vaguely confused idea about what happens at a wedding), and Amelia has started school, there’s a morning where they’re alone for the first time in forever, the house quiet around them, and Nick says, “they’re growing up, aren’t they?”
“Yep,” Harry says. “Do you ever wish—” he shrugs. “We didn’t plan them.”
“We could, you know,” Nick starts, “well. We’re better planners now.”
“Yeah,” Harry says. “Plus we wouldn’t be going into it blind. Like, we both know how to change a nappy.”
“And how to get peas out of nostrils,” Nick says. That one had been a learning curve for all of them, but Amelia the most. “So.”
“I’m up for planning,” Harry says. “If you are.”
And then they hold hands a bit and talk about nothing and then eighteen months later, there’s a tiny baby boy cradled into the curve of Harry’s elbow, Nick pale and exhausted in the hospital bed beside him, Amelia asleep in the corner, and The Robin taking pictures on his daddy’s phone.
“What do you think about Nigel?” Nick asks. He makes a face like he’s pretending he’s serious.
“Perfect,” Harry says, deadpan. “Although I’ve always liked Clive.” He still can’t rid himself of that terrible fear, sitting low in his belly, that today would go like the last time Nick was in hospital, when Harry thought he’d lost both him and The Robin. He’d remember that feeling until the day he died.
“I don’t think he looks much like a William,” Nick says, at last. The Robin has clambered up onto the bed next to him, and is holding Nick’s hand. William was the name they really had picked out for the baby, but Nick’s right. Their baby doesn’t look like a William.
“Kit,” Harry says, softly. “He looks like a Kit.”
“Kit Styles-Grymshaw,” Nick says. “What do you think, Robin?”
“The Robin is better,” he says, steadfastly. “But Kit’s nice.”
“We’ll see what Bean thinks when she wakes up,” Harry says, but their baby looks like a Kit.
Nick catches his eye over the top of Robin’s head. Yeah.
