Chapter Text
“Shhh, we have to keep quiet, darling,” Regulus whispers, shooting Harry an amused look.
Harry cups both hands around his mouth, whispers between them, “Sorry, Papa.”
With a quiet snort, Regulus ruffles the mess of his dark hair —made even worse by the fact that they’ve only been awake and out of bed for all of thirty minutes. Getting ready for the day had been put on hold in favor of tiptoeing around the kitchen, being as quiet as humanly possible for a five year old who’s over-excited to make his dad waffles for his birthday.
Regulus is under no illusion that James is actually still sleeping in their bed, but they’ll both pretend for the sake of their son.
“Should we put whipped cream on top?” Regulus suggests as he drops the fresh waffle onto a plate.
Harry nods hurriedly. “And rainbow sprinkles, and a cherry! Like a sundae!”
“Of course,” Regulus chuckles.
He follows the little boy’s giggled instruction, allowing Harry to be the one that tells him when to finally stop piling the whipped cream on (there’s more whipped cream than there is waffle, by that point).
Regulus hands off the shaker of sprinkles, lets Harry take that over as well. In the middle of watching him, he notices his phone light up on the counter. Reaching for it and finding a message notification on the screen, his lips curl upward.
James:
How bad is it?
Regulus eyes the mountain of whipped cream on top of the thick waffle on the plate. Harry has taken it upon himself to try to cover every inch of the sugar pile with rainbow sprinkles, tongue poked out between his teeth in concentration. It’s the same thing James unconsciously does while deeply focused and it warms something in Regulus’ chest to see it.
He snaps a quick, secret photo, unnoticed by the boy, and sends it off with no comment. The moving dots of a reply show up near-immediately.
James:
Say goodbye to my abs, I guess
Regulus laughs a touch too loudly at the message, startling Harry out of his focus. With a furrowed brow, Harry lifts a hand, holding a finger to his mouth and shushing him.
“Too loud, Papa,” He admonishes.
“Sorry, darling,” Regulus mutters, a grin unchanging from his face. “Maybe we’re finished with the sprinkles, yeah?”
Harry nods his head but continues shaking the container over one last section of the plate until he’s satisfied. He plops a bright red cherry on top of the colorful, sugary mess, then wide green eyes are looking up at Regulus.
“Do we have birthday candles?”
Regulus nods. “In the drawer by the sink.”
Before he can move to retrieve them, Harry scrambles off his stool and goes to do it for him. He comes scurrying back over, holding up the package for Regulus to take.
“How old is Daddy now, Papa?”
“He’s just turned thirty today,” Regulus answers, voice purposefully louder than moments before.
Exactly as expected, his phone buzzes with another message shortly after his voice carries from the kitchen.
James:
Quit smiling about it
Regulus laughs quietly to himself, sends back a quick ‘never’ and tucks his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants.
Despite Harry’s suggestion to try to fit all thirty candles on the melting pile of whipped cream, Regulus talks him down to just three. They’re very carefully situated and lit, Regulus balancing the plate on his palm to carry it down to the bedroom. Harry rushes ahead, feet thumping hurriedly on the hardwood before he pushes the door open.
James, bless him, is in fact pretending to be asleep still. His phone sits set aside on the nightstand, his arm tossed over his face where he’s sprawled dramatically in the center of the large bed. Harry creeps around the side, tiptoeing once again and glancing back at Regulus behind him.
“Should we wake him?” Harry whispers.
James chooses that precise moment to make a loud snoring sound that sends Harry clapping both hands over his mouth to stifle his laugh. Regulus smiles widely, fond gaze flickering back and forth between his husband and his son. Harry looks at him expectantly once again and waits for a nod of approval before clambering up onto the bed.
He’s poised to pounce right on his father, wake him up enthusiastically, but before he’s given the chance, James jolts upright toward him with a playful roar. Harry squeals loudly, losing himself in a fit of giggles when he’s scooped into James’ arms, relentless fingers tickling at his sides.
“Papa, help!” Harry shrieks between peals of laughter.
“Papa’s on my side today, it’s my birthday,” James taunts jokingly.
Regulus snorts, shaking his head. “Okay, lit candles here, let’s settle for a minute, shall we?”
James finally gives Harry a reprieve, both of them breathless and pink in the face. Harry flops onto his back between James’ outstretched legs, the bedsheet tangled around one thick thigh and the opposite calf.
James makes a ‘bring it here’ motion with his hand and Regulus steps forward, carefully perching on the side of the bed nearest to the two of them. Harry hauls himself into a sitting position, watching eagerly as Regulus holds the plate out in front of where James sits.
“You have to make a birthday wish, Daddy!” Harry tells him.
“What, you’re not going to sing to me?” James replies.
“No,” Regulus says immediately, earning a loud laugh from his husband. “Blow out your candles, the whipped cream is melting.”
James sneers at him but adjusts his lopsided glasses to stare at the flickering candle flames. His hazel eyes dart to Harry in front of him, then to Regulus at his left. A wide smile stretches across his handsome face, crinkling the corners of his eyes, helpless adoration bright in his gaze.
He locks eyes with Regulus for a long moment, the two sharing a knowing look. James doesn’t have to say anything for Regulus to know what he’s thinking; what else is there to wish for, when this is what life looks like?
It’s a sentiment that Regulus is very familiar with.