You snuffled softly against the pillow, a yawn leaving your lips as you roused from a sleep that was well needed and something had overtaken you as soon as you found comfort against Harry’s thighs. With the feeling of his fingers brushing through your hair and his soft breathing, it wasn’t so bad to fall asleep in a rowdy and loud plane filled with boys who were high on a lack of sleep and energy that was never a good mix. With Louis’ loud voice and his laughter sounding around the plane, and Niall’s bellowing voice followed by Liam’s loud yet calming voice, Harry had a worry streak rushing through his veins; he wanted you to sleep and he wanted you to be comfortable, especially in your pregnant condition, and he wasn’t afraid to hiss and let out his anger towards the rest of the boys if they were being too loud and depriving you of getting the sleep you needed.
“How’re you feeling, love? You’ve got some colour back into yer’ cheeks, haven’t you? You look so much better now you’ve had a good couple hours sleep,” Harry cooed, his green eyes staring down at you with worry as you lifted your head up from his lap, the pillow you had been using askew and crinkled up on his thighs from where your head had been laying. The plane still making its way through the clouded night sky, the lights of the cities in Europe shining bright and passing by slowly below. “Do you want a more comfortable place to lay down? I can kick Louis out of the bedroom.”
With Louis entering the jet before the rest of you, he had taken comfort in the bedroom of the jet. And after complaints coming from him on a constant basis about his sore back and his aching muscles, the rest of you had come to a decision to let him have the comfortable bed to ensure he wasn’t whining and groaning and making his back worse by curling up in one of the chairs. Or even against the sofa that he had found to be quite uncomfortable on numerous occasions.
But you didn’t mind about him having it. Because it meant that you got to have a snuggle with Harry rather than being separated from him for however many hours you felt deemed the amount of sleep you needed. You knew, deep down, that sleeping for a regular couple of hours wouldn’t suffice because he wasn’t there as a comfort to keep you settled. So, you felt better being sprawled out across the sofa, with your head in his lap as he kept you calm and settled by running his fingers through your hair and ensuring you weren’t being woken by those who were noisy.
“No, no. He needs the comfort more than I do. We’ve been sleeping on a nice comfy bed for the past few days, I’m alright. I’m just going to pop to the toilet, okay? Baby Styles is making me need a wee,” you mumbled, groaning as you kicked your legs from where they were perched on the excess area of the sofa, your socked feet touching the floor of the jet. “In fact, can you come with me? M’feeling a bit dizzy,” you whispered, turning towards Harry who had a concerned look on his face, his eyebrows furrowing and his lips pursed and he helped you stand to your feet.
“We’ve only got a couple more hours left, love. You slept for the majority of the journey,” he chuckled, standing up behind you and holding his palms to your hips. “M’glad you came with me on this LA trip. It’s been good to show you off and finally get the news out properly,” he admitted, his voice deep and raspy as you made your way to the toilet nearer the front of the jet.
“It’s been good to get some sun. We won’t be coming out as much when we have the baby, so it’s been good to get out and everything,” you smiled, cupping one of his hands that laid comfortably on your hip whilst your other grabbed the handle of the toilet. “Alright, I’m okay from here. I don’t really think it’s an attractive sight to see me sitting on the toilet,” you giggled, looking up at Harry as his chest bumped against your back.
“You see me wee all the time,” he mumbled against your ear, his lips brushing against the outer shell as you felt your cheeks blush pink.
It was a natural occurrence for you to catch Harry in the bathroom back home, his back to the door as he carried out his business with the door to the en-suite wide open without a care in the world of you walking in. His modesty flying out the window as he relieved his bladder or gave himself comfort to be able to walk around without the feeling of bursting for the toilet. It was also a common thing to hear him go for a wee whilst you were in the shower, his silhouette being seen behind the shower curtain before he flushed the toilet and proceeded to join you for the last few minutes of your shower.
“M’kidding, love. I’ll go get a film set up and we can watch a couple of films before we land,” Harry smiled, stretching his neck to press his lips to your cheek.
“Can you get me some water? Oh, and did you get me some Haribo sweets? Baby Styles is making me want something sweet,” you grinned, pulling the door towards you and switching on the light to the toilet. “I think I have one of your hoodies over with my bag, so, can you get that for me? I’m getting a bit cold.”
As you rushed around his LA home to gather everything to take back to the UK – either to take home to be washed before he brought it back out on his next trip to LA or to collect the clothing you had brought out with you that you were more prone to wearing around the UK – you grabbed one of his spare hoodies to keep yourself warm on the flight back. The jets, and almost every flight you had been on to visit Harry or to fly out to meet someone, had a cold atmosphere to them due to the sudden change in altitude, and you had learnt from previous experiences to take something to keep your showing skin warm and goosebump-free.
And as silly as it sounded to others, Harry hated it. Especially when he was there to cuddle you to his side and keep you warm with the body warmth he was radiating from his own body. He hated how you would confide in a blanket brought from home or one of his hoodies rather than him. And with a pouted face and furrowed eyebrows, you gave in and settled yourself into his side, his arms wrapping around you in an almost death-grip hold; almost as if he was afraid to lose you for another source of warmth.
“Why do you need a jumper when you have me to cuddle with?” Your heard him whine, his head hiding in the crook of your neck. His breathe warm and fanning across your collar bone. “What films do you want to watch?”
“Did you get Fifty Shades?” You grinned, stepping into the toilet and turning on your heels. “I think we should watch it all this time. We got, I don’t know, we got a bit distracted last time, din’t we?”
“I can’t help it. My dick longs for you, especially when I’m watching stuff like that,” he teased, walking across the floor and back over to the sofa where you had been situated for the majority of the flight. “I mean; we may not make it to the end of this flight without partaking in the mile-high club. Again,” he smirked, his attention turning to his shoulder bag set by his feet which contained his laptop and his journal in case he was sprung with ideas for a new song that he would most likely forget by the end of the flight.
The phrase ‘mile-high club’ was enough to make a blush form on your cheeks and a giggle to leave your mouth. It was something that had happened back in your early days of dating when he took you on a little getaway trip to France – a perfect little hotel booked for three days as you explored the city of Paris and visited the attractions that you were longing to visit. On the flight out, it was tough to keep your hands off of one another, and being in the economy section of the place, it was hard to keep it on the down low. Hidden from the other passengers in hopes that other people weren’t to oogle over your actions – a hand job given to Harry beneath the blanket, some pleasurable touching and rubbing given to you as a response to his release, as well as some slurs being given to one another in soft whispers to the ears.
It was risky.
But the both of you thrived off of that in your youngster days.
As a few minutes passed, he heard the toilet flush loudly before the door creaked open to let you appear in the doorframe. A smile on your lips as you proceeded to your way across the floor, adjusting the hem of the t-shirt sitting on your upper body.
“Okay, so, I figured we could save watching Fifty Shades for when we got home. I know you’ll be jetlagged and everything, so we could just cuddle and watch it together,” he smiled, looking at you as you fell to the seat beside him. His arm snaking around your shoulders as he kept his laptop secure on his thighs, an episode of Friday Night Dinner waiting to be watched paused on the screen. “We’ve been meaning to watch this, so, I figured we could watch a few episodes to pass the time,” he suggested, looking at you as you nodded softly.
“Sounds good to me. It’s supposedly quite funny. Sophia’s been telling me about it and everything,” you stated, “and Lou said it was something that was worth watching. She said it was right up our street and that we’d enjoy it,” you added, resting your head against his shoulder as he plugged his earphones into the laptop and handed you one.
“It looks alright. Gemma watches it, so, she has it on sometimes when I go over to see her,” Harry smiled, placing his earphone into his ear before pressing play and letting the credits roll out. “I mean, it’s got the guy from The Inbetweeners in it so it must be funny,” he chuckled softly, sighing softly as you snuggled into his side and set a hand across his belly. Your finger drawing soft patterns against the chub at his hip showing from the rising hem of the t-shirt covering his upper body.
“Hmm. That’s another series we never finished watching,” you mumbled, your eyes intently settled upon the screen of his laptop. “We need to rewatch the majority of the boxsets we have at home and see which ones we need to finish,” you suggested, your attention turning to the sudden movement of Niall making his way down the aisle of the jet.
“Alright, Mr and Mrs Styles?” He mumbled, his deep Irish accent much more accentuated from the sleep still lingering in his throat. A deep cough sounded around the jet as Liam roused from his sleep, his knuckles rubbing at his eyes as he removed the headphones from his head and set them on the chair beside him. “’aaye. Payno’s awake. M’not going to be third-wheelin’,” Niall teased, falling to the two seats in front of Liam.
“It seems like they’re invested in other things, Niall. So technically, you’d be on your own,” Liam teased, checking the messages and Twitter mentions on his phone using the in-jet wifi they’d been whining about having for months. “D’you know we’ve got our interview with Alan Carr nearer the time of the birth of their baby,” Liam stated, looking up at Niall as he laughs and looks over to at you and Harry. Your lips pressing against Harry’s in a soft kiss as he stared at you with love and admiration – something that was always evident between the both of you, no matter where and no matter how far the both of you were from one another.
If he was in another country, he would forever commense his love for you to anybody who was willing to listen. Whether it was a stranger, a member of the crew or one of the boys. Expressing his feeling without a care in the world that they didn’t want to listen, or without a care in the world that they weren’t interested in what he was expressing. He was never afraid to spread it to the world that he loved you – anyone that came into view or came into his path, he was always talking about, with the new addition to his family making its way into the conversations.
“What if they have the baby before the interview? Oh gosh, he’ll be gushing through the whole thing about their little one,” Niall chuckled, looking out the little window of the jet as he watched the city lights go by beneath the clouds in the night sky. “They’re so excited. I mean, look at ‘em. They’re so ready for parenthood,” Niall smiled, catching your eyes as you blushed.
“Are you talking about us, Horan?” You asked, shaking your head in amusement as Harry let out a soft chuckle. “Do you have nothing better to talk about?”
“We’re just talking about how excited you look to be parents. You’re really ready for this baby to pop out,” Niall smiled, as you looked up at Harry. “He’s been wanting a baby for so long and now he has one on the way, and we don’t think we’ve ever seen him so happy,” he added, his eyebrow raising as he gave you a soft smirk before turning to look out the window.
“Honestly, the first One Direction baby. Who’d have thought it would be Harry, huh?” Liam laughed, standing up from his seat beside the window, and walking towards the mini-fridge beside the seat on the sofa that Harry was settled upon. “Do you want a drink, Horan?” He wondered, pulling out a couple of beers. “Beer or water? There’s one bottle of coke left,” he pointed out, looking over his shoulder as Niall shook his head.
“Just a beer will do,” he pondered, kicking off his trainers and letting them fall with a bang to the floor of the jet.
As Liam popped the cap off of both of the bottles, a sudden movement caught everyone’s eye as Louis appeared from the bedroom. His shirt thrown off in the midst of his long sleep, with his tracksuit bottoms hanging low on his hips, the cuffs covering his feet as he made his way into the main area of the jet.
“What’id I miss?” He wondered, rubbing his face with his palms as he fell to the end of the sofa, a smile on his face as he looked at you. “How are you feeling, love?”
“M’feeling tonnes better, thank you, Lou,” you smiled, giving his knee a poke as he kicked his feet up and bent his knees to his chest. “Y’know something, I’m going to miss all of you lads. It’s always weird not having you around after spending so much time with you,” you giggled, smiling as Liam handed you a water.
“Oi, Payno. Gi’me a beer,” Louis retorted, a grin on his lips as Liam gave him the finger and handed him one of the cold beers in his hands. “Thanks, mate. I owe you,” he teased with a laugh, as Liam rolled his eyes and handed Niall the second beer from his hands.
“Anyway, we were just talking about how Harry and (Y/N) are so ready for this parenthood thing,” Niall grinned, taking a swig from the neck of the bottle. Water droplets trickling down the side of bottle, dropping onto his jeans. “Don’t they look ready? Look at ‘em. He is forever finding a way to touch her bump and he’s forever making sure she’s okay and he’s got this massive smile on his face,” Niall added, nodding his head in the direction of where Harry was absentmindedly rubbing soft patterns onto your small yet protruding swell between your hips, his eyes trained to the laptop screen that was still playing an episode of Friday Night Dinner. “He’s not even paying attention,” he laughed.
“I am, I am. Just, watching this,” Harry murmured, looking up at the boys as they laughed at his baffled expression. “C’mon. Gi’me a break. M’tired and sleepy and I just want to stay awake,” he stated, letting out a muffled yawn that he covered with the hand that was rubbing against your bump.
With him wanting you to be content through the long 11-hour flight, he found it upon himself to skip out on the sleep and the napping to ensure he was available for your every need. If you needed help to the toilet, he was up and ready to take you. If you needed some water, he was up and walking over to the mini-fridge. If you needed some nausea tablets, he was digging around and pulling out the box before you had even asked for them.
“You can go to sleep, babe. It’s alright. I’ll be okay,” you smiled, shuffling in your seat to comfortably face your husband. “You could do with a couple of hours, H.”
“No, no. M’fine,” he grumbled, a soft yet tired smile on his pink and flesh-coloured lips. “Just, want to have some cuddles with m’wife and my baby before I sleep for the next 3 days,” he admitted.
“3 days? My god, is that how long you sleep for?” Louis laughed, gulping down a swig of the beer before setting it on the floor beside the sofa. “I can’t sleep for that long. I spend the majority of my time playing footie in the back garden,” he said, wrapping his arms around his bent knees and lacing his fingers together.
“Harry could sleep for months if he could,” you reasoned, “and I’m pretty sure he’ll end up sleeping through the birth of our baby if she decides to pop out in the middle of the night,” you giggled, looking across at Harry as he gave you a cheeky smile. His eyes crinkling at the corners as his teeth shone brightly underneath the light of the jet.
“She? You think it’s a girl,” Harry cooed, nudging his nose against the apple of your cheek.
“Mothers instinct,” you whispered, dipping your head down to your chest and pressing a palm to your soft swell.
“I think she’s having a boy,” Niall grinned as Louis nodded in agreement. “Someone that Harry can dress up the same and buy cute little Saint Laurent shirts to match his own to pair with his brown boots and a pair of jeans,” he laughed, as Liam nodded along with Louis.
“Style his hair the same. Take him to Fleetwood Mac concerts and teach him some of the crap puns and Knock-Knock jokes he is forever telling us,” Liam added with humour lacing his voice. “I swear; I can’t wait to see how Baby Styles ends up. And I wonder who they’ll look like the most.”
“I want them to look like Harry. With his beautiful green eyes and his nose as well as his pretty lips,” you smiled. “And maybe someone who’s tall. Being short like me doesn’t help matters,” you giggled, rolling your head back against the sofa.
“Well, I want them to look like you,” Harry cooed, his lips pressing to your jaw. “Someone beautiful and gorgeous and stunning and someone who is the exact replica of you because the world needs more you to exist,” he whispered.
“Alright. Well, I’m going back to sleep. You’re too sickeningly sweet,” Louis grumbled, gulping down the last of his beer before setting it on the ground and standing up.
* *
As the taxi pulled up to the front of the London house, you felt a rush of tiredness course through your veins. The feeling of missing your bed settling into your mind as you looked towards the house, your eyes falling to the bedroom window on the top floor of the house, the curtains pulled shut to make people down your street think you were home and in the atmosphere of your own home.
“And we are home, sweet home,” Harry sighed out happily, his finger flicking on the switch to the living room as he wheeled the suitcase further into the house. “I’ve never been so happy to be home, m’telling you. I’ve missed our bed, and our kitchen, and our comfy sofas, and our bath,” he groaned out, turning on his heel as you bumped the door closed with your hip.
“Can we just, unpack tomorrow? I really just want to go and lie down an-“ you were abruptly cut short as you dropped your handbag and pressed a hand to your belly. “Harry, oh my god, Harry. Quick. Oh my gosh, they kicked. I felt them move!” You grinned widely, your lips parted into a wide grin as you watched Harry’s green eyes widen in shock. “Quick. Quick, come see if you can feel. It’s not strong but, you can feel it slightly.”
In a haste of the moment, his hand was immediately pressed to your bump. The material of his green Packers hoodie soft under his palm as he waited patiently for a soft flutter of the small, bell-pepper sized baby settled between your hips. He knew, from the baby books he had been reading and websites he had been google-searching, that he wouldn’t be able to properly feeling a kick until you were at least in the early twenty weeks of the pregnancy. But, to be able to be informed that you could feel some sort of movement was something he had been longing to hear because he knew that your baby was growing, healthily and strongly and forming it’s limbs and it’s organs just the way you, and Harry and the midwife had wanted it too.
“Oh my goodness. Oh my god, that’s our baby,” he whispered, dropping to his knees as he cupped your hoodie-covered bump in his palms. “Hi, baby Styles. Hi, baby,” he cooed softly, his lips forming a smile as he felt the small flutters against your belly, his thumb rubbing across the slightly stretched skin below your belly button. “Are you going to keep kicking for daddy, hm? Yeah? You like the sound of daddy’s voice, don’t you? A lot like your mummy,” he chuckled, looking up at you.
“Harry, I wish you could properly feel this. They’re moving like crazy,” you giggled, cupping his face in your palms and watching as his eyes glazed over. “Oh my gosh, it’s happening. They’re really forming well and, we’re going to be parents, Harry,” you cried softly, an unexpected tear dribbling down your cheek.
“Hey, don’t you cry, love. Because I’m on the verge of crying,” he whispered, a voice crack happening nearer the end of his sentence as he looked back at your bump. “I’ll be able to feel you properly soon, and you can kick against daddy’s hands all you want. Just, don’t abuse mummy’s organs,” he whispered, his face mere inches away from the swell at the base of your hips.
“We love you so much, baby Styles. You’re going to be so properly loved in the world,” you tearfully grinned, your lips wet and your cheeks covered in tears as you looked down at Harry. “I love you too, Mr Styles.”
“Mm. I love you too, Mrs Styles. And you, baby Styles. We get to see you again soon, and we can’t wait to find out just what you are,” he whispered, his lips pressed to your skin.
The perfect end to the perfect week.

Notes