Don't Let It Break Your Heart - A Larry/1D story

Larry Epilogue 1/3

Larry Epilogue #1

Author's Note: Apologies for the slow updates—motivation's been hard to come by. But thanks to @Mcapriel and her incredible story, The Larent Trap, I'm back! (And, yes, I love the title.) This is the first of threeLarry epilogues, and fair warning: this one's steamy because I know I've been holding back...

Here goes nothing.

Harry's POV

2024

"Hey, Lou, can you come here for a sec?" I call from the library. Louis and I have been living together for ten years now, and we bought this house four years ago, moving in with our dog, Cliff. Life here is quiet and good.

"Coming!" he calls back, wandering into the library. He spots me and circles the desk to settle on my lap.

I laugh, delighted. "What was that for, love?"

He just grins, nestling into my side. "Just wanted to be near you, pup," he says softly.

I rest my head against his and ask, "Could you look at the tour schedule?" Our joint tour is starting in November, and I can hardly wait.

He nods, but instead of replying, he leans in to plant soft kisses along my neck. "Mmm...Loubear, what's this about?" I murmur, caught between curiosity and delight.

"Nothing, just want to hold you," he whispers.

"Then let's go somewhere cozier," I suggest. He nods, and I lift him, carrying him to our room. I lay him down gently, then crawl onto the bed beside him. He wraps his arms around me, and we melt into the moment, exchanging kisses, murmuring sweet nothings, laughing over the little things that make up our lives.

"Liam would say we're love-sick," I chuckle.

Louis just laughs, then presses his lips to my neck, warm and a bit rough. His teeth graze my skin, leaving a series of gentle nips that make my breath catch.

"L-Lou, love, what are you—ngh—doing?" I ask, my voice hushed and breathless.

He pauses, meeting my gaze with a smirk. "You," he replies, shifting so he's straddling me. He presses his lips against mine, soft and slow.

I slip a hand to the back of his neck, drawing him closer. He grips my waist, drawing a sound from me as he starts a slow rhythm, the heat between us building.

"Let's make love, baby," he whispers, his lips brushing mine. We make quick work of our clothes, letting them fall aside until we're bare before each other. There's a rare, quiet magic in vulnerability like this—in the trust, the openness, the absolute comfort of being completely ourselves with one another.

As he settles beside me, he takes my hand and looks into my eyes, our breaths softening in unison. His touch is unhurried, his hands roaming, his lips trailing a line of kisses down my neck, my shoulder, and lower. Each kiss is like a promise. I shiver as his hands caress my skin, his fingers brushing along my thighs, teasing but gentle.

"Please, Lou," I murmur, the words falling from my lips.

His eyes meet mine, filled with adoration. "Are you ready?" he asks, his voice low, a smile teasing his lips.

"Please, Louis," I breathe, clutching the sheets beneath me. He leans down, drawing close, and slides a finger in, his touch sending a ripple of pleasure through me.

Bit by bit, he draws me into his rhythm, and together, we lose ourselves in a timeless, wordless dance. Every touch, every movement, is a reminder of our love—of a bond that goes beyond mere words, that transcends even our shared history. Each moment is one we give to each other fully, without reservation or fear.

Later, we lie in the quiet, his body draped over mine as our breaths slow, limbs entangled. He stands, stretching, then retrieves a towel to clean us both. Slipping on a pair of boxers and a hoodie, he gives me a lazy grin. "C'mon, H, let's change the bed," he says, fondness lighting his face as he hovers over me.

With a soft blush, I nod and slip off the bed, putting on boxers and sweatpants. He returns with fresh sheets, white with little red kiss marks scattered across them. We laugh, teasing each other as we strip the bed and make it up again, playing as we always do. Finally, with the new sheets smoothed, I fall onto the bed with a grin as he collapses beside me, his eyes bright and warm.

"Hi," he whispers, his elbows braced on either side of me, his face close to mine.

I smile back, feeling shy under his gaze. "Hi," I whisper, leaning up to brush our noses together.

"I love you," he says softly, his fingers tracing the drawstring of my sweatpants.

"I love you too," I murmur, holding his face in my hands as I pull him down for a tender kiss.

He settles into my arms, resting his head on my shoulder as we lie there in the comfort of the moment.

"Goodnight, love," I whisper.

"Goodnight, Hazza," he replies, holding me tight.

As I drift off, a sense of peace settles over me, filling me with a quiet joy. I'll never get used to this feeling—this sense of completeness, of contentment. But maybe that's part of what makes it so beautiful.

Author's Note: Hey! Hope you enjoyed that one. Smut writing is always a bit nerve-wracking, but I think this one turned out okay. Thanks for reading and, as always, all the love! – Niall xx