You Put the Sun in Sunday; larry stylinson (bottom!louis) [completed]

17

SIX MONTHS LATER

It was October.

"Louis! We're going to be late!"

The end of October. Halloween to be exact.

"Sunday!" Harry observes his reflection, fixing the band of his yellow shorts. "If you aren't down here in ten seconds, I'm going to—"

"Calm down, geez." Louis' voice comes from upstairs. He emerges from Harry's room, more like his room from the number of his own belongings scattered across the floor. He holds the underside of his belly and reaches the top of the stairs and holds the railing.

Harry smiles, that same genuine smile he gives Louis when he wakes up in the middle of the night for a snack. "Need help?"

Louis glares, gesturing wildly to his slightly-bigger-than-a-basketball sized bump. "What do you think?"

Harry simply laughs and leads Louis down the stairs with a hand on his back. "You look so cute." He gushes.

Louis huffs, finally making it down the stairs in one piece. He swears it gets longer every day, "I think it's too tight, your sister is smaller than me."

The green-eyed man presses a soft kiss to Louis' sweaty forehead. He was always sweating for some odd reason. "Eh, maybe it's all that delicious squish you put on, Sunday."

Their baby was due soon, a few days to be exact, and not making any moves to leave the warm comfort of Louis' tummy yet. Harry continuously told Louis how their baby had every right to never leave Louis (Louis would disagree, he just wanted to hold his baby already) and if it were up to Harry, Louis would remain pregnant and delicious—though he was always delicious—for the rest of their lives. Louis would always cry about not seeing his toes.

"Squish," Louis mocks, "I can't fit into any of my old clothes."

Harry presses a kiss to his nose, "That's why you have mine."

Louis sticks his tongue out. "Let's just go before I get too tired."

Harry immediately ushers him out. He's struggled endlessly with an exhausted Louis, a Louis who was too tired to get out of bed and woke Harry up at all hours of the night for his cravings. Harry wouldn't give up Louis' wacky cravings of the weirdest things—"Cottage cheese and what?" "Strawberries and tangerines, not clementines, they make me sick."—Especially after how long it took Louis to let them sleep in the same bed, even longer for them to sleep in Harry's bed at his frat house.

"Where are the guys?"

Harry grabs his hand and they walk down the sidewalk. His headband is crooked but Louis can't fix it with the extra weight strapped onto his stomach, he's still not used to feeling like a whale. "They already left, said they wanted to scope out the chicks."

Louis hums, yawning into his hand. He feels tried already and they haven't even reached the gym yet. He walks—waddles, in his jeans and with that ugly grey plaid skirt. "God, why did your sister even have this costume?"

"Well, her name is Juno. I believe she wore that three years in a row."

Louis glances up at Harry, standing tall in his red shirt, yellow shorts and white socks. "Why do you have shorts that short?"

"I ordered them online, got the wrong size." Harry answers. "You got a little," he licks his thumb before swiping it along the corner of Louis' lips, he brings his finger up to his mouth. "Mhm, chocolate again?"

Louis blushes. "I couldn't resist." He looks down, wrinkling his nose at the big hump under his orange and white striped shirt.