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

Epilogue.

This is the epilogue. I hope you all enjoy it. There's smut. Thank you for getting this far, I've been told that this story has made people cry and that is the biggest compliment ever. Thank you for everything. -jas.
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"Morrie, stop that right now."

"No!"

"Don't talk to me that way."

"Harry," Louis pops his head into his son's bedroom. He giggles at his husband attempting to fit their toddler into a pair of mustard slacks. "Harry, give him Jimothy."

"What?" Harry turns around, his recently cut hair is a short mess on the top of his head. It used to be at his shoulders but Morrie kept tugging on it, thinking it was so funny how his father's face would scrunch up. "Who's that?"

Louis sighs dramatically, waddling into the room and struggling to bend over to pick up his son's prized panda stuffed animal. He supports his back and carefully hands the stuffie to Morrie who was still wiggling in Harry's grip.

"Ma!" Morrie cries. "Mama," He pouts deeply. He's released from Harry's hold and runs into Louis' legs, jumping to be picked up.

"Bug, you know mama can't pick you up anymore," Harry says gently. "He has a belly, remember?" He stands from being crouched over, working out the knot in his back.

"It just food." Morrie's eyes are set on Louis' six-month pregnant belly. He glares at it.

"Not food," Louis corrects, running his fingers through his son's curly hair. "It's your new sibling, baby."

Morrie frowns, his lips twisted in a scowl. Louis adores it when he gets grumpy, he's so darn cute. Harry, on the other hand, disapproved of his son showing such a harsh emotion at such a young age.

"Food, mama."

Harry smiles softly and checks his watch. "Sunday, we've got to go now. We wouldn't want to be late." What he means to say is how much Louis wouldn't want to be late. Harry is aware of how over-emotional Louis has been these past few weeks due to his pregnancy, and crying over the little things was a big part of that. Harry would burn the cookies, he'd cry. Morrie would forget to pick up his legos, he'd cry. Liam would forget to bring his favourite cinnamon twists from a cafe on campus whenever he and Zayn would stop by for dinner, he'd cry, but being late to his graduation would surely cause a breakdown that Harry isn't ready for.

"Okay, baby, listen to daddy," Louis tells his son clutching his stuffie in his tiny hands. "Mama taught you how to count to ten yesterday, why don't you show daddy, hm?"

Morrie's blue eyes light up, he quickly runs across the room to his father who was standing by the dresser, holding a matching suit jacket and tiny clip-on tie.

"Daddy!"

"Yes, bean?" Harry drops to his knees. He listens with rapt attention as his son counts, and he calmly dresses Morrie in his tiny matching suit and is careful clipping on his tie because they hadn't had time to cut his hair, it was almost past his shoulders now.

Between working at the mechanic's down the street and being an assistant coach at Boston University, he still has time to play football for charity games since he was quite the star in Boston. In the past year, he's been interviewed countless times about his football career. He and Louis have talked about the future, Louis pushing him to take up his scouting opportunities—but Harry always says his family is more important and football can wait. Louis would sometimes cry because he would feel like he ruined Harry's career, Harry would cuddle him tightly which usually lead to slow lovemaking.