#i sort of feel like i can feel the twisted bitterness tommy would taste when thinking about michael

[divinekangaroo]

the drama that would have been averted with a few proper conversations between michael and tommy

[anabsolutetrainwreck]

tongue-tied like we’ve never known || h. styles

warnings: dad!harry, swearing, not really proofread

word count: 2.3k

summary: two single parents try to start their lives again...

Mornings were always the worst for you. Trying to pry Tommy out of bed, and even yourself for that matter, was always an incredibly stressful task. But you’d learned to live with it and quickly come to accept it. After all, he was only young now. He’d be old soon enough and you knew you’d miss these youthful years. 

You stood by the school gates, waiting for little Tommy to come bounding out of school to tell you all about his latest adventure. You always looked forward to hearing how his day went. As small children scrambled out of the doors after their teachers and straight into the arms of their parents, your eyes fell onto Tommy. He was with a boy you didn’t recognise. “Look, look! Meet my new friend,” Tommy grinned as he stood before you excitedly. “This is my mum.”

“Hello,” the little boy, dark-haired with perhaps the most striking green eyes, smiled. “I’m Oscar.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Oscar,” you smiled. “Are you new?”

The boy nodded, his cheeks flushed slightly. You couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Tommy had made a new friend. He’d been kind to the new kid and offered him a form of friendship. 

You were tugged away from your thoughts as you heard a voice behind you. You quickly turned to see a man, a little taller than yourself. You figured this was Oscar’s father from the dark hair to the green eyes. “There you are,” he smiled warmly and it seemed to make your heart flutter, as if he was smiling at you.

“Daddy, this is my new friend, Tommy,” Oscar grinned excitedly. 

For the first time, the man shifted his gaze from the two young boys to you. Your stomach lurched as you made eye contact with him. “You must be Tommy’s mum,” he said, extending his hand for you to shake. “I’m Harry.”

“Y/N,” you smiled, shaking it gently. You hadn’t felt like this since you first met Tommy’s dad. It was all of eight years ago now on a night out with your university friends, most of whom you didn’t even speak to nowadays. He had been kind then and polite and the sort of man you’d always envisioned yourself marrying. So, you ended up getting together and everything seemed great for the first year and a half. But then things began to decline and you both seemed to lose trust in one another and you felt as if you were putting all of your energy into this relationship. It was killing you. But then you fell pregnant with his baby and he broke up with you anyway. You went back home to live with your own parents for a while before you eventually found a proper job and moved into your own house. 

Anyway, you found yourself walking down the street, Tommy and Oscar running ahead slightly, with Harry. You had Tommy’s light bag clasped between your hands, listening to Harry tell you about Oscar. “And yeah,” he concluded, “we moved down here a couple of weeks ago, just the two of us.”

“What about Oscar’s mother?” you couldn’t help but find yourself prying. 

Harry seemed to tense slightly, before shrugging, “She was never really around much. Her parents thought she should have gotten an abortion but she didn’t want one and had the baby anyway. So, they kicked her out and she left Oscar with me and moved to Dublin with her friends.”

“That’s shitty,” you sighed. “At least you have Oscar, though, right?”

He nodded, smiling, “Exactly. What about Tommy’s dad then?”

“He was a dick. He broke up with me a couple of months after I told him I was pregnant,” you replied. 

“Yeah,” Harry chuckled, “sounds like a dick. Does he see Tommy then?”

You shook your head, your eyes caught between Harry’s and your son's lively figure running up and down the path ahead of you with Oscar. “No. He’s tried to reach out a couple of times but I haven’t let him see him. I just feel like introducing him to his dad six years later could just, you know, fuck it up. Besides, if he didn’t want to be with me through all the shitty, difficult stuff, then I don’t think he’s allowed to enjoy all the joys of being a parent.”

“Well,” he smiled, “good on you.”

And that was how you met Harry Styles. Over the weeks that followed, you would walk Oscar and Tommy to and from school with him. Tommy would spend time round at Harry’s and Oscar would spend time round at yours. And it felt like every time you saw Harry, you felt simultaneously more comfortable around him but more and more nervous. 

But you hadn’t dated anybody since Tommy was born. Having a young child seemed to be a deterrent for a lot of people. Or maybe had more to do with the fact that you didn’t have time for a relationship between work and raising Tommy. Sure, you’d been on plenty of dates and it wasn’t as if you weren’t ready to get back into the world of dating and relationships. If not for yourself, for Tommy. You wanted him to have some kind of parental figure that wasn’t you. 

You found it difficult to focus on the book you were reading when all you could hear was the two boys laughing loudly upstairs. Oscar was round for dinner and Harry was due to pick him up any minute. And as a knock at the front door finally snapped you into a new state of consciousness, you got up to answer it. Harry stood happily on the other side, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “Evening, Y/N,” he smiled. 

“Evening, Harry,” you mocked. “Do come in.”

You opened the door wider, allowing the man to step into your home. You called down Oscar and Tommy, only to be met with groans. They appeared at the top of the stairs, their faces twisted into bitter scowls. “Why?” Tommy sighed. “Can he stay for a bit longer?”

You exchanged a glance with Harry, who shrugged. “Fifteen minutes,” you sighed. Really, all you wanted was to go to bed. They grinned and dashed back into Tommy’s small bedroom. You guided Harry into the kitchen, letting him sit himself down at the table. “Do you want a drink?” you asked.

“I’m okay, thanks,” he smiled.

You grinned, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice, “Suit yourself. So, how was your day?”

“Stressful,” he sighed. “Thanks for looking after Oscar.”

“Anytime,” you shrugged. “He’s delightful. Besides, you’ve looked after Tommy so many times, I kind of owed you.”

“Nonsense,” he laughed. “We’re not exchanging favours. We’re just… helping out a friend.”

You couldn’t help but let yourself deflate at ‘friend’. You had known all along that you were just two, young single parents that only knew each other through their six-year-old sons. But a tiny fragment of you hoped what was happening meant something more to Harry, like it did to you. There were instances of harmless flirting and subtle glances. “Right,” you nodded, forcing a soft smile. “Well, thanks for helping out a friend.”

His fingers drummed mindlessly on the table and your eyes wandered from their tips to the tattoos that peeked out of the cuff of his jacket. “Got any plans for tomorrow?” Harry asked and you almost cringed at the small talk. 

But alas, you shrugged, “Not really. I have some work to catch up on, so an action packed day for me tomorrow. What about you?”

He shook his head, “I wish I had plans. Could go out for drinks or something, but I can’t because I have a needy six-year-old.”

“Treasure it while it’s still here,” you said. 

“Believe me,” he grinned, “I am. God, I’m so scared for the day he just… stops needing me. You know, the day he just sort of realises that he no longer needs me to wash his clothes or walk him into town or buy him things. And it took me ages to get used to putting somebody before myself, I don’t think I could imagine living without him now. Like, one day he’ll go off to uni and get a job and only come home every other birthday or Christmas.”

You smiled gently. You were sure he’d never been so vulnerable with you before. “It’s weird to think that’s what we’re doing with our parents now. We fear the day our kids stop needing us, but our parents are living that day.”

He hummed in thought for a moment, “I should probably go see my mum soon. I haven’t seen her in months. And my sister.”

“You have a sister?”

He nodded, “Yeah. Gemma is her name. She’d love you.”

“I’m sure I’d love her if she’s anything like you,” you said. 

You took a final gulp of your orange juice, your eyes beginning to feel heavy. You looked at the clock on the wall, noticing twenty minutes had passed since Harry arrived. “Right,” you smiled. “I’ll go get Oscar.”

And as you walked towards the kitchen door, Harry quickly said, “Wait!”

You turned back to look at him, your heart pounding heavily. All kinds of questions and hypotheticals raced through your mind as he paused for a moment. “Do you think you’ll ever meet somebody else, Y/N?” he asked. 

“Meet somebody else?” you repeated, though you were sure you knew exactly what he meant. 

“Yeah, you know… like somebody to replace Tommy’s dad. Somebody for you to settle down with and raise Tommy together. Do you think you’ll ever meet them?” he asked. 

You were utterly confused as to what had prompted him to ask such a question. But you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t hear your heart in your temples or taste your blood in your mouth. “Maybe,” you shrugged. “Do you?”

“I hope so,” he said. “I’d like Oscar to have a mum.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I think that would be great for him. I’ll go get him.”

That night as you lay alone in your bed, you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to share your bed with Harry. To feel his body beside yours on cold nights. To be woken up by his lips peppering your face in light kisses in the morning. To discuss all the trivial things when neither of you can sleep at night. Maybe he was trying to tell you something that evening…

Oscar had become ill over that following weekend. Nothing too serious, but something that warranted a day or two off school. So, after you picked Tommy up from school, you drove to Harry’s to check if they were both okay. Tommy sat at the end of Oscar’s bed, recounting everything the young boy had missed at school, while you busied yourself in Harry’s kitchen. You were heating up some of the soup you had made for the poor boy. “You’re really too kind. You didn’t have to do this,” Harry told you as he made you a cup of coffee. 

You shrugged, “Well, Oscar’s like my second son at this point.”

He smiled, albeit his cheeks a little red, “I’m glad you think that. I’m pretty sure he thinks of you as a mum at this point too.”

Now it was your turn to turn red. Your face heated up at Harry’s passing comment. Did he really think of you as a mum? “That’s sweet,” you said. “About what you said the other night… about meeting somebody, my friend says she knows a guy she thinks I’d get along with. So, I think I’m really going to try dating.”

He stiffened slightly, “Oh yeah? That’s great, Y/N.”

He hugged you and you couldn’t help but feel so safe in his arms. The hug was perhaps a second or three too long, but neither of you pulled away. And, as your bodies were pressed together, it was almost as if you shared a brief but looming epiphany together. “But,” you began again, “why try dating a stranger when I already know somebody?”

“That’s a good point,” he whispered softly, finally pulling away to make eye contact. He explored your face and you felt his warm breath on your cheeks. 

“I mean, this guy that I know, he’s sweet. Really sweet. He’s super funny and caring and so, so generous. And he has a kid himself, so he won’t be put off by the single parent thing.”

He understood what you were trying to tell him, “Sounds like an angel. Who is this fine man of whom you speak?”

You grinned, “I don’t know if I should say. He has tattoos and green eyes.”

“So he’s incredibly handsome as well as being an angel?”

“I suppose you could say that,” you chuckled. And, as if the sky were falling down, Harry wasted no time in pressing his lips to your own. He kissed you and you kissed him back. All of your prior dating worries just seemed to slip away as you buried your fingers in Harry’s soft hair. It was only when you heard a quiet ‘mum?’ from the doorway did you jolt apart. Tommy stood in the threshold of the kitchen and suddenly the microwave went off, notifying you that Oscar’s soup was ready. You and Harry turned back to each other, finally registering Tommy’s presence, “Shit.”