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Chapter Text

                                                                         DAILY NEWS
                                                                                                                                                            

                                                            POLICE CHIEF'S DAUGHTER MISSING

Gemma Styles, 25, daughter of London Police Chief Desmond Styles, has been reported missing.

Sources confirm that Gemma vanished from the Styles family estate last weekend. With no signs of forced entry and her phone found in her bedroom, authorities currently have no means of tracking her whereabouts.

The investigation, led by her brother, lead detective Harry Styles, has mobilized a special task force in an effort to locate her.

The Styles family has declined to comment, and an exclusive interview with her mother, Anne Styles, was denied. The public is urged to respect the family's privacy and refrain from interfering with the ongoing investigation.

Anyone with relevant information is urged to contact law enforcement immediately.

•••

                                                                          DAILY NEWS
                                                                                                                                                                  

                                                      UPDATES ON CASE "Gemma Styles"

Today we are reporting on explosive news about the case of the missing police daughter Gemma Styles.

As we were told, there was an anonymous letter and a demand. Police Chief Styles was asked to resign from his position immediately, the reasons for which are still completely unknown.

A demand for money would have had to be declared, but what does the requested resignation mean?

Does the esteemed and well-known Agent had something to do with the disappearance of his daughter, as some of you might think?

•••

                                                                               DAILY NEWS
                                                                                                                                              

                                                                         ALL HOPE LOST?

Four weeks have passed and there is still no progress in the Gemma Styles case.

The daughter of high-ranking police officer Desmond Styles and sister of the thriving, young detective Harry Styles has still disappeared without a trace.

Styles Sr. did not comply with the previous demand and hasn't resigned his position. Although voices were getting louder that he should let his son take over.

We asked people in town and everyone told us about the poor condition of the worried mother Anne.
"She looks bad, we hope she's okay."
"I don't want to trade places with her, no one should have to lose their child."
"I will keep the family in my prayers."
These are just a few quotes that reflect the great sympathy in the case.

Now let's face the truth. Is there any hope for young Gemma?
The chances of finding her alive are decreasing hour by hour.

•••

                                                                                    DAILY NEWS
                                                                                                                                                       

                                                       BREAKING NEWS ON CASE "Gemma Styles"

Confidential sources have told us that the missing daughter of Police Chief Desmond Styles has been sighted.

A news that we have all been waiting for over the last few weeks. But who would have thought that she would be recognized by a bartender in a brothel.

Did the 25 year old just fake her disappearance?

Did she want to break out of her sheltered life to start over?

As the Styles family's lawyer told us, unfortunately neither the parents nor the brother want to make a statement about the latest developments.

We at DAILY NEWS will of course keep you up to date.

•••

                                                                                     DAILY NEWS
                                                                                                                                                       

                                                                       BARTENDER FOUND DEAD

Two days ago we reported news in the Gemma Styles case.

Attentive readers will remember that she was supposedly recognized by a bartender in a brothel.

This bartender has now been found dead. Is there a connection or is it just an unfortunate coincidence?

Unfortunately, the circumstances surrounding his death are still completely unknown. The police are not releasing any details about the possible crime in order to not influence or disturb the ongoing investigation.

•••

                                                                                       DAILY NEWS
                                                                                                                                                          

                                                                               MISSING TEENAGER

Events seem to be moving rapidly in connection with the Gemma Styles case.

We just reported on the death of a local bartender who was linked to Gemma Styles. Now we have knowledge of another missing person.

Tracy Miller, 19 years old, student. The popular cheerleader has been missing for a week. She didn't come home after training.

The police are already investigating but the public has only now found out about it.

It cannot be ruled out that the cases are connected. After all, there have been no reported missing persons cases in the last 10 years.

Chapter Text

HARRY                                      

"Motherfucker!" Harry growled, his voice echoing through the office as he launched the folder across the room. Papers scattered midair before landing in a chaotic mess on the floor. "Who the fuck does he think he is?"

He shot up from his chair, pacing like a caged animal, fingers raking through his unruly curls before pressing against the bridge of his nose. His pulse hammered against his skull, frustration burning hot beneath his skin.

By the door, Niall stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the frame, observing his partner's outburst with a careful gaze. He had known Harry for years, since they were kids, since before the badge, before the pressure, but even he could admit that his temper had been spiraling. Harry had always been intense, but this? This was different. There was a storm in him, barely contained, ready to tear through anything in its path if it meant protecting the people he loved.

"Harry, you-" Niall started, voice cautious.

"Don't." Harry snapped, jabbing a finger in the air before Niall could even get a full sentence out. "Don't fucking 'Harry' me, Niall. You know exactly how I feel about that parasite of a reporter, and now he's back, stirring up fear, feeding the public half-truths and bullshit speculation."

He dropped back into his chair, elbows braced on the desk, hands dragging down his tired face.

Niall exhaled, stepping forward. He placed his hands on the desk, leaning slightly, forcing Harry to meet his gaze.

"Detective Styles." His voice was firm, steady, the kind of voice he used when he needed Harry to listen. "We've handled worse. He's not our priority right now."

Harry's jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. He knew that. He fucking knew that. But it was always different when things hit this close to home.

Because this wasn't just any case.

This was Gemma.

The only person in the world who had ever understood him without him needing to say a word. His sister. His blood.

And she was gone.

Harry inhaled sharply through his nose, dragging himself back to the present.

"I want him out," He said, his voice low, controlled, the finality in it leaving no room for argument. "Call the fucking newspaper. No more leaks, no more speculation. This case is top secret. The less the public knows, the better. The last thing we need is a city-wide panic."

Niall nodded, because there was no arguing with that. Because, truthfully, this should have been done weeks ago.

**

It was late, later than he realized, when Harry finally glanced at the clock above his office door. The red digital numbers glowed in the dim room, taunting him. He exhaled sharply, dragging a tired hand down his face, his eyes burning from hours of scanning over the same pages, over and over again.

The files lay open before him, spread out in a haphazard mess across his desk. He had read them so many times in the past few weeks that he could recite most of them by memory. Six files. Six missing girls. One body. One pattern that didn't quite fit, and yet, somehow, it was all connected.

A puzzle with too many missing pieces. A case that refused to make sense.

And the public? They already knew too much. The media had latched onto one missing girl like vultures, but if they ever found out about the other four, it would be chaos. Harry knew it was only a matter of time before the families spoke out, before everything they were trying to keep quiet exploded in their faces.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, rubbing his temples. His stomach twisted, whether from hunger or exhaustion, he wasn't sure. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd eaten, let alone slept.

With a groan, he pushed himself up from his desk and strode toward the cabinet in the corner of the room. His fingers instinctively found the smooth glass of an expensive whiskey bottle, pulling it free. He poured himself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in the dim light.

The first sip burned, but the tension in his shoulders eased almost instantly.

The second sip was deeper.

The third emptied the glass entirely.

He poured another, watching as the liquid reached the rim before setting the bottle back in its place.

Enough.

He told himself that, but the weight in his chest remained. The files still sat open on his desk, and the questions still haunted him.

He left the empty glass where it was, knowing someone, one of the cleaning staff, or maybe Niall when he inevitably checked in, would take care of it in the morning.

Harry ran a hand through his curls, inhaled sharply, and glanced back at the files one last time before flipping them shut.

Tomorrow. He'd start again tomorrow.

He threw on his coat and checked his pockets for his phone, keys and wallet. When he was sure he had everything he needed, he left his office. He nodded to the security before stepping out into the humid late summer air. Less than two minutes passed and he had hailed a taxi and was on his way to his favorite bar.

The bouncer made no attempt to check at all, instead he stepped aside and let the tense man through. Loud bass and stuffy air greeted him as he entered, bodies were already moving against each other on the packed dance floor, couples and strangers grinding on one another.

Without detour he made his way to the bar where he saw Liam. Liam was definitely his favorite bartender. And he was glad that he was working again. Liam spotted him immediately and reached for a bottle of clear alcohol. And when the curly-haired man sat down on a stool at the bar, he already had the drink in front of him.

"Tequila. As always. Cheers." Liam was watching intently as the detective downed the shot. A few moments passed.

"Thanks." Harry nodded at him and left it at that.

Because even though he wasn't interested in conversation, he wasn't an asshole. He was just stressed beyond belief.

"Tough day?" The man behind the counter asked as he removed the glass and wiped away the condensation on the wooden surface.

"You could say so." He raised an eyebrow and let his gaze wander around the room. "Anyone interesting here tonight?" He asked, looking back at Liam, who was still standing there behind the counter, waiting for the next order, even though he knew it would be whiskey.

"Not seen anyone yet." He shrugged and threw the towel over his right shoulder. Shortly after, his eyes wandered to the entrance and a slight grin appeared on his lips.

The agent noticed and his eyes followed the bartender's direction. His eyes scanned over the people entering the club and then they found him. There he was, a cheeky grin on his lips as he joked with what was supposed to be his friends.

The man stood out in the dim haze of the club, effortlessly composed in a way that made Harry's teeth clench. His dark brown hair was styled just enough to look like he hadn't tried, the kind of casual perfection that pissed Harry off. A neatly trimmed beard framed his sharp jaw, making him look older, more experienced, too.

His eyes were hidden behind aviators, because of course they were. Who the fuck wore sunglasses inside a club? The low neon lights reflected off the lenses, making it impossible to tell where he was looking at. It irritated Harry more than it should have.

And then there was the rest of him. A sweater, hanging loose off his frame like he hadn't bothered to pick something better, paired with trackpants slung so low on his hips that the waistband of his boxers peeked out. It shouldn't have been a look that worked, but somehow, on this man, it did.

With an easy motion, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and brought it to his lips, letting it rest there, waiting to be lit. Completely unbothered. Completely infuriating. And Harry hated that he noticed all of it.

"Who is that?" He asked, looking back at Liam. Not that he's really interested, actually just looking for a man or woman he can take home with him and forget everything.

At least for a night.

"Dunno mate, he's been here before but never said anything. Usually grabbing a bunch of shots and sitting with his friends, the tattooed one with the dark hair." He motioned to one of the guys that's with this stranger boy. "This one's always with him but never saw them as more than friends. Never saw him with anyone either now that I think about so maybe there's someone waiting at home for him." Liam ended his speech, kinda annoying Harry because let's be fair, he didn't ask for his life story. Only wanted to know his name.

Unfortunately, Liam knew a lot of shit - just not his name.

The detective sighed and turned his head away from the boy, focusing on his drink instead. He let his middle finger ran along the edge of the glass a few times before he put it to his lips to down the contents and slam the glass back in the counter to have it replaced by Liam.

Not even a second later he felt a presence next to him and there was a slight grin on his lips because he knew exactly who it was without even looking.

Call him a creep but honestly it's just intuition caused by his job. Because what kind of agent would he be if he couldn't trust his gut feeling?

"Can we get a round of Tequila?" The man beside him spoke and huh, that wasn't exactly the voice he expected when he saw him first entering the bar. He had a strong accent, Yorkshire most likely and his voice wasn't as deep as Harry would've thought.

Liam got straight to work by placing a tray on the surface of the counter as well as a bunch of shot glasses. In a skilled motion he filled the glasses, chopped up some lemons and put the small salt shaker on it.

From the corner of his eye, Harry caught the subtle movement, the man nodding along to the beat, effortlessly in sync with the rhythm of the club. A long drag from his cigarette followed, the orange ember glowing against the dim lighting.

Harry hated cigarettes. They reeked, they stained, and they'd kill you eventually. Nothing remotely attractive about them. And yet, he found himself watching the way the man's sharp jaw flexed with each inhale, the way his cheeks hollowed slightly, the way his lips curled around the filter, slow and deliberate. It was annoying how good he made something so disgusting look.

Before his thoughts could spiral any further, two arms slid around his waist from behind, pulling him back into a familiar hold. His gaze dropped, catching perfectly manicured fingers, nails painted a glossy red, wandering down his stomach - lingering, teasing, inching closer to his belt.

Harry smirked, tilting his head back without resistance.

"Hi babe." The woman behind him whispered and playfully bit his earlobe. Harry took the opportunity and turned his head slightly to the side and, as he had hoped, he met the gaze of the stranger next to him.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and winked at him before turning his head completely and meeting the blonde's lips, whose tongue immediately demanded entry into his mouth.

With her tongue still down his throat and her hands working on getting down his pants, he opened his eyes and much to his satisfaction stranger boy still looked at him. He throw a bill on the counter and slightly shook his head and Harry swore he would see him rolling his eyes if he didn't have his sunglasses on.

"Let's get out of here." He pushed the wandering hands off of him and emptied his glass. Then he stood up and grabbed the woman by her hand to guide her to the back door of the club.

Once outside she didn't waste a second before she dropped to her knees and undid his belt. And if the detective thought about a different pair of lips around his dick then nobody had to know.

**

Harry had no idea what time it was or even where he was when a never-ending vibration woke him from his sleep.

He pressed the pillow over his ears, to no avail, and tried to orient himself with his eyes closed. It wasn't hard for him to notice the headache already forming behind his eyes and he used his hand to search for his phone.

Judging by the volume of the vibration, it was coming from a solid surface, ergo, his bedside table.

When he finally found the device, he grumbled a "what" into the speaker and waited for an answer from the other side.

"Rough night, mate?" An irish accent greeted him with a laugh in his voice and Harry felt the urge to punch someone.

"Fuck off." The hungover detective replied and opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was the interior of his room and the bright sunlight that shone through the open windows and he wanted to slap himself for not closing the blinds.

The second thing he saw was red lingerie, red lingerie framing the otherwise naked body that was sprawled out next to him. Blanket long gone in the heat of the moment and abandoned on the floor.

Barely audible, he groaned and turned away, sitting up at the edge of the bed. A shiver running through his body as his feet touched the cold wooden floor and he quickly pulled them up on the bed again, now sitting cross legged.

"Harry?" Niall's voice came through the speaker and the curly haired boy remembered why he was awake in the first place.

"I hope you have a very good reason for calling me after a night out." He grumbled and ran a hand through is long curls, feeling the knots that had formed as a result of his nightly activities. Already knowing it's going to take him a shit long time to remove them.

There's a snort from the other side of the phone.

"When do you not have a night out? Honestly, it's easier to list the nights you don't fall into bed completely shitfaced." The other detective stated matter of factly, knowing that there's no reason to argue about that.

The thing was, he was worried about his boss and best friend, who was like a brother to him. Of course, he knew that Harry's sisters disappearance would take a toll on him.

But he had no idea how bad it would get. Little did he know that Harry had to be piss drunk every night to even get an hour or two of sleep. And if he would be extra lucky, he'd took someone home.

Lately it was always the same girl, as far as he knew. And he had hope that she might have a good influence on him, that she might could be more, like the glimmer of hope that Harry needed to gain new strength.

"Getting to the point now or can I go back to bed?" He rolled his eyes, even though he knew Niall couldn't see him.

He slowly became angry, he no longer had patience and no desire for small talk or empty conversations that took up his valuable time.

Valuable time he needed to find his sister. And try and get a little more sleep to get rid of that fucking headache.

"Remember who you're talking to, Harry. I'm not one of your puppets you can boss around, nor one of the interns you can talk to like that." And with that, Harry knew he had crossed a line.

"Fuck. Sorry, Nialler." He had known his best friend long enough to know that it took a long time to piss him off. But lately it seemed that that's all Harry's doing.

It wasn't his intention to talk to the blonde man like that. He was just so terribly tense, stressed and frustrated. And he believed that if there wasn't progress in Gemma's case soon, he would finally lose his mind.

Without a doubt he was the best at his job, he's his father's son and knew what he wanted to do when he was still in kindergarten. So he did everything he could to achieve only the best results.

And he succeeded.

This is how he became the youngest detective leading a case like this in the history of his department. Probably even in whole England.

But now it just felt like he's a failure. Not only in his job but for his family too. They warned him about it. Don't get involved when it's about family.

There's a reason why doctors shouldn't treat family members: you're not objective and you don't have the necessary distance when your heart is in the middle of it all.

So yeah. Maybe he didn't think that through.

Not that he'd ever admit anything to anyone. His pride is way too big for that. But he can't help but notice the voice in his head, that was telling him to just quit and hand the case over to someone else.

Well, thank god then he's still louder than that voice.

"It's alright, Harry. I know why you react like that and I can't even begin to imagine how it must feel for you. So believe me mate, when I say I get it. But remember, I am not the villain here. Don't fight me when all I want to do is help you, yeah? I'm with you on that, we're in this together." By the end of his best friend's speech his throat was burning and he felt tears prickling in the corner of his eyes.

In no way he had meant to snap at Niall. He is grateful for him. But as he said. He's not feeling like himself anymore.

"And I'm so grateful for that. Again, I'm sorry, Niall, and I mean it! I know I'm an arsehole lately." He chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood, or more so his own mood and felt better when he heard an agreeing mmhm from the other man.

He was about to ask again about the reason Niall called, when he felt the bed shift behind him. Shortly after he felt a hand trace down his spine and the goosebumps that followed.

From the little giggling sound he heard, he figured she noticed it too. What she didn't know though was they weren't the nice kind of goosebumps.

One hand over the speaker he turned around and faced her. He put a finger in front of his lips and gestured to the phone in his hand to stop her from doing any more. With a little nod she plopped back on the bed, making sure her ass was on display for him to see.

He rolled his eyes at he attempt and focused back on his call.

"So, why did you call?" Finally the words got out, Harry thought it'd never happen.

"You have to come in today. There's something you'd want to know. See you at 9 mate." And with that the call ended.

"What?" He stared at the phone in hands, wondering if the service suddenly failed but the three bars in the left corner of his iPhone told him otherwise.

Did Niall really just hung up on him? Without an explanation and without leaving any clue as to what will await him at the office.

"Fuck." He groaned and let himself fall back on the bed, hammering headache still present and completely forgotten about the fact that he wasn't alone in said bed.

Chapter Text

HARRY

The second Harry stepped into the office, he felt it. The weight of their stares, the quiet murmurs exchanged as though he wasn't right there. Every inch of his body tightened with irritation, but he forced himself to keep walking, his head held high. His colleagues didn't need to know they were getting under his skin. He had a reputation to maintain. Unshakable, unrelenting. Today, however, he wasn't in the mood for games. Especially not after the morning he'd had.

Harry Styles prided himself on control, both on the job and in his personal life. But waking up with a pounding headache, an empty bottle of whiskey on his nightstand, and vague memories of Cara had thrown his control off balance. Cara. That was a mess of his own making. She'd been exactly what he needed the first night they met, long blonde hair, a knowing smile, and enough confidence to keep up with his charm. He wasn't proud of it, but it had been easy to take her home, easier still to let her keep coming back. It was a distraction he'd welcomed in a life that otherwise didn't leave room for mistakes.

But now? Now, Cara wanted more of his time it seemed. She wanted something he couldn't, no, wouldn't, give her. He didn't have time for strings, not when Gemma was still missing. Not when other women were missing.

"Boss," Niall greeted him from inside his office, pulling Harry from his thoughts. The Irishman was already seated, a folder spread out in front of him, and a strange tension hanging in the air.

Harry frowned. "Care to tell me why half the department was looking at me like I've grown a second head?" He shrugged off his coat, tossing it over the back of his chair, and sat down, leaning back as he watched his friend. "What's going on, Niall?"

The other agent hesitated, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. It wasn't like Niall to be nervous, not around Harry. And that alone put Harry on edge. He sat forward, elbows on the desk, his green eyes narrowing. "Niall," he said again, his tone sharp.

Niall sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "Look, Haz, this isn't something I wanted to spring on you like this, but... Well, it's about the case. Your dad-"

"What about him?" Harry interrupted, already feeling the annoyance flare in his chest. He loved his father for some reason, but the man had a habit of interfering where he wasn't needed.

"He's been in contact with a few other departments," Niall explained carefully. "Not just here, but abroad too. Germany, the US... He's been asking for support."

"What?" Harry's voice was low, incredulous. His jaw clenched as he processed the information. "Why the hell didn't he talk to me first?"

Niall held up a hand, trying to calm him. "I don't think it was meant as an insult, mate. He's worried. About Gemma, about all the missing girls. He just wants results, and, well... someone came forward."

Harry's brows furrowed. "Someone?" He leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. "Who?"

Niall didn't answer immediately. Instead, he leaned over, unzipping a bag and pulling out a folder. He placed it on the desk and slid it toward Harry. "You're not going to like this." He said, his tone apologetic.

Harry glanced down at the folder but didn't touch it. "What is it?"

"It's a transfer," Niall explained. "A detective from Germany. He's been brought in to help."

The words felt like a slap to the face. Harry stiffened, his hands balling into fists against the desk. "A transfer?" His voice was ice. "To help me? On my case?"

"You're still leading," Niall assured him quickly. "But they think he might have insights we don't. He's got experience with cases like this."

Harry didn't move for a moment, his jaw working as he processed the betrayal. Finally, with a huff, he grabbed the folder and flipped it open. His eyes scanned the top of the page, taking in the name printed in bold letters: 

-Louis William Tomlinson-

The photo pinned to the corner caught his attention next, and for a moment, Harry frowned, his mind working to place the face. Something about the man seemed... familiar.

"He's British," Harry muttered, reading further. "Born in Doncaster." He glanced up at Niall, confused. "But you said he's German?"

"He's been living in Germany for over a decade," Niall explained. "Worked with their police force. Apparently, he's got a solid reputation, top of his class, loads of commendations, and experience with cases involving human trafficking."

As it turned out, Louis was a top man. Flawless grades, best in his class, countless awards and experience in various special forces. And all of this at the young age of 27. Almost unbelievable when you think about it.

Harry didn't care. He flipped through the pages, barely skimming the details, until a knock at the door pulled his attention. He looked up, his stomach twisting with dread.

"Who is it?" He barked.

The door opened, and there he was. Louis Tomlinson. And Harry immediately recognized him. The bar.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Harry muttered under his breath, slamming the folder shut.

"Detective Styles," Niall began, standing to greet the new arrival. "This is Detective Louis Tomlinson."

Louis stepped into the room with confidence, a smug grin on his face as he extended a hand. "Good to meet you, Harry."

Harry ignored the hand, standing slowly and locking eyes with the man. "It's Detective Styles." He corrected coldly.

Louis raised an eyebrow but didn't falter. "Of course, Detective Styles," he said smoothly, taking a seat without being invited. "I think we've met before."

"Excuse me?" He raised an eyebrow and noticed Niall's nervous glance between the two of them.

"Last night at the bar I think. But if I remember correctly you were pretty occupied with that cute little blonde trying to get in your pants right at the counter." He said nonchalantly and Harry felt his blood boiling.

What kind of detecitve - no what kind of person acts like that when new at job? Clearly that boy had lost his mind and was absolutely wrong for this position. Harry took two deep breaths to contain himself. This was about his sister, but not only about his sister but about other girls missing. Girls that he knew since he was a young boy, girls he grew up with.

How on earth did they think that this man could help with that? Who even made the decision to get him onto this case and why did no one ask Harry about it?

He was lost - lost and absolutely furious.

Niall shot Harry a pleading look, trying to diffuse the tension. "Why don't we get started? Harry, you can fill Louis in on the details of the case."

Harry sat down, his movements stiff as he opened the file again, but Louis waved him off. "No need," The man said, pulling out a thick folder of his own. "I've already read everything. Brought my own notes."

Harry's eyes widened as Louis dropped the folder onto the desk. He quickly schooled his expression, refusing to let his surprise show.

Niall clapped Tomlinson on the shoulder. "That's great work, mate."

Harry's patience was wearing thin. He grabbed the folder and flipped it open, determined to find something, anything, that might discredit the newcomer. But as he skimmed the pages, his annoyance turned to confusion. On one page, there was an unfamiliar symbol: a fiery red lily, its stem covered in sharp thorns.

"What the hell is this?" Harry demanded, pointing at the symbol.

Louis leaned back, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief. "Ah," He said casually. "That's the Red Lily."

Harry exchanged a glance with Niall, both of them clearly clueless. "Care to explain?" Harry snapped.

Louis smirked, leaning forward. "Let's just say, wherever the Red Lily appears, women tend to disappear. But don't worry, boss. I'm here to help."

"Though I must say I thought you'd already heard of it, famous Detective Styles," Louis said, the words dripping with mockery. He straightened his posture, blue eyes gleaming with mischief as his mouth tugged into an infuriating smirk.

Harry clenched his jaw. He felt Niall's hand on his shoulder, a grounding gesture, one meant to calm him down, but it only made his irritation worse. He wasn't a child in need of soothing. The urge to shove Niall's hand away was second only to the temptation to vault over his desk and wipe the smug grin off Louis's face with his fist.

How on earth was this happening? There was no way his father, or any of the higher-ups, had really thought this was a good idea. Harry glanced at Louis again, at those sharp cheekbones and the infuriating smirk that hadn't faltered for even a second. Surely this was a joke. It had to be.

Except it wasn't.

Because as much as he wanted to dismiss Tomlinson as much as he wanted to send him packing, this wasn't just about Harry. This was about Gemma, his sister, and the other girls who'd disappeared. Girls he'd grown up with. Girls whose families he'd promised answers to. Girls who were somewhere out there, terrified and waiting to be found. This wasn't the kind of case where mistakes could be tolerated, let alone arrogance.

And yet here Tomlinson was, the picture of arrogance personified.

"Do you want to help," Louis asked, his voice smooth, "or do you want to keep being a pain in the ass?"

Niall made a noise, somewhere between a cough and a poorly stifled laugh. Harry shot him a glare. He didn't find any of this remotely amusing.

"I don't see much of either from you right now too." Harry bit out, narrowing his eyes.

Louis, seemingly unaffected, just shook his head with a faint, almost bored chuckle. "There's not much I can tell you," he began, leaning back in his chair, as if he didn't have a care in the world. He crossed one leg over the other, his posture loose, almost deliberately relaxed. "Nobody knows them. Nobody knows who they are, or what exactly they do. All I know is this: when they show up, women disappear."

Harry blinked, his irritation briefly replaced with confusion. "What?"

Louis's words were straightforward, but they didn't make sense. Nothing about this case, about his case, had even hinted at a group of people being involved. There'd been no messages, no demands, no witnesses who'd seen anything to suggest organized activity.

Still, there was something about the confidence in Louis's voice that made Harry pause. Not that he trusted him - far from it - but Louis wasn't guessing. He wasn't just throwing out some wild theory to waste time.

"Where exactly are you getting this information?" Harry asked, leaning back in his chair. His tone was sharp, his green eyes narrowing as he studied the man in front of him. He crossed his arms, a deliberate display of skepticism.

Louis didn't flinch. If anything, his smirk deepened. He met Harry's glare head-on, his piercing blue eyes as steady and unyielding as ever.

It felt like the temperature in the office dropped a few degrees when green met blue. The air between them practically crackled, heavy with unspoken tension as their gazes locked. Harry could feel the weight of it pressing down on him, the challenge in Louis's stare daring him to push harder, to ask the questions he didn't want to ask but needed to.

**

Nothing useful had come out of the day, except for a cocky new partner and a lead about a shadowy organization that didn't make any sense. Harry sighed as he stepped into his apartment, locking the door behind him with a satisfying click.

Finally, he could exhale.

The bottle of red wine sat waiting for him on the kitchen counter, next to a glass he'd set out earlier in a rare moment of optimism before disappearing for a much needed shower. He poured himself a generous amount, the deep crimson liquid swirling as it filled the glass, then padded over to the living room. His laptop was already perched on the coffee table, Netflix pulled up and paused at the start of Pretty Woman. Exactly what he needed, a distraction, something to make him forget the weight pressing on his chest and the nagging feeling that things were spiraling out of control.

Harry sank into the couch with a sigh, the tension in his shoulders making itself known as he settled back against the cushions. He rolled his shoulders in slow circles, wincing at the stiffness there. Weeks of stress had built up like a storm inside him, and now, in the quiet solitude of his home, it was catching up.

He reached for his phone, which buzzed faintly on the sofa beside him. A new message lit up the screen, a text from Cara. She wanted to come over.

For a moment, he considered it. Cara was... well, Cara. She was familiar, a source of comfort in some ways. But even the thought of company tonight made his exhaustion deepen. He typed out a quick reply, politely turning her down, then set the phone face down on the couch.

It was easier than he'd expected. He liked Cara, even loved her in his own way, though not in the way she sometimes seemed to hope for. She was more like a sister, he supposed, though calling it that felt strange given their... arrangement. Friends with benefits was a more accurate description, and it worked. For now. But the idea of anything more? Of romantic feelings complicating things? He couldn't handle that. Not now. Maybe someday, he thought. Months, years down the line. But not tonight.

Harry exhaled, relieved, and reached for his wine. He pulled a fluffy pink blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it snugly around himself before pressing play on the movie.

As the opening credits rolled, he felt a flicker of peace for the first time in days. Julia Roberts filled the screen, radiant and magnetic as ever, and he found himself smiling faintly. And Richard Gere? Well, he wasn't bad on the eyes either. Harry chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of his own thoughts, and took another sip of wine.

But just as he was starting to sink into the film, just as the world outside began to fade into the background, the doorbell rang.

His smile vanished.

Harry sat up slowly, the blanket pooling around his waist as he glanced at his phone. No missed calls, no texts, nothing to suggest an expected visitor. His brow furrowed as his instincts kicked in, sharp and wary.

He stood, setting the wine glass down carefully on the coffee table. Slipping his feet into a pair of worn pink slippers, he moved toward the door, his movements deliberate. Paranoia? Maybe. But in his line of work, caution wasn't optional.

His hand brushed against the small table by the front door, fingers closing around the cold metal of his handgun. Just in case. 

He unlocked it with one hand, the other hovering near his gun, and opened it cautiously.

Harry had prepared himself for anything. A neighbor, a delivery he didn't remember ordering, or worst-case scenario, a threat.

What he wasn't prepared for was the person standing on his doorstep.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Harry Styles was caught completely off guard.

Chapter Text

He looked dumbfounded and only as he felt eyes travelling up and down his body he snapped out of his shock and realised that he's still only in his lilac bathrobe and well ...

"Nice slippers," None other than Louis Tomlinson said with a grin on his lips and winked. Before Harry could even say a word the older man stepped beside him and welcomed himself in Harry's house.

"Oh I'm sorry, am I interrupting a movie night with your girlfriend?" He asked and turned around to his glaring partner.

"What? No, I'm alone but - how - I mean why?" This was not normal. What's happening?

"Well I figured with your whole attire, all cuddly and .. is that Pretty Woman?" Louis squinted his eyes at the television as if he was trying to figure out what's on even if it's pretty obvious seeing as Harry paused the movie so now the title is visible on screen.

"Uh -" Harry started but was once again interrupted by Louis.

"Aaah, you're that kind of guy, huh? A big feminine softie behind this cold shell. I bet you cry during Titanic." He couldn't believe his ears, he knew that Louis was an arrogant asshole but he never thought he was that bad of an asshole.

"Really, Tomlinson? Next time you should try a basement if you wanna go that low. Now I kindly ask you to fuck off because I can't remember to have invited you in the first place." Harry crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at the other man. Harry was tired of this shit. All he wanted to do was cuddle on his sofa with a brilliant movie and wine and just forget about everything for a few hours.

And look at him now, standing in his living room, with nothing but slippers and a bathrobe on. Oh god, he suddenly was very aware of the fact that he - in fact - was completely naked under his robe.

Fuck shit fuck, stupid habit of being naked in my home. He cursed himself and discretely checked if all private parts are covered.

"Hey, no need to get all angry on me. Nothing wrong with being gay - even if the first impression I got was pretty straight." He shrugged nonchalantly and that's when Harry saw red.

"Excuse you? You're a homophobic piece of shit that's what you are. You don't even know me or anything about my sexuality not that it's any of your concern must I add. And just so you know, I hate to repeat myself so I ask you for the last time to leave my house!" He raised his voice, something that didn't happen often because he's no fan of yelling but Louis scratched a certain part in his brain that got him furious.

"Whoa, retract your claws, kitten." He raised his hands beside his head, smirk still prominent on his lips.

But even Louis was no idiot - well, most of the time - and he knew when to stop, and now it's definitely the time for that. So he walked past Harry and went straight for the door. Long forgotten the reason why he visited him in the first place.

With a last glance at the other man he disappeared through the front door.

What the fuck was that?

**

"You need to fire him, Dad. Immediately," Harry snapped, pacing his living room as he gripped his phone so tightly it felt like it might crack. His voice was low, sharp, but his words burned with the fury simmering beneath his usually controlled exterior. "It's absolutely unacceptable to work with someone like him. He's unprofessional, doesn't know his limits, and frankly, I can't believe you didn't come to me about this first."

The anger from the night before hadn't dissipated, if anything, it had intensified overnight. Niall's words about that Tomlinson guy still played on a loop in his head, and the memory of their ridiculous encounter at his apartment only fueled his frustration. The audacity of it all was maddening.

A heavy sigh crackled through the phone. His father's voice followed, weary and measured. "Harry, listen. I didn't have much of a choice. You know how long we've been searching for help on this case. He was the only one who seemed qualified." There was a pause, the silence heavy with unspoken words. "I'm sorry for how he treated you, though." He ended with a sigh.

That sigh, Harry recognized it instantly, the sound of disappointment, muted and distant but unmistakable. It wasn't just about Louis Tomlinson or this case. It was about him.

Harry stopped pacing and stood still, the weight of it settling on his shoulders. He knew exactly what his father was thinking, even if he wouldn't say it outright. The disapproval of Harry's lifestyle wasn't new.

But what exactly was there to disapprove of? Harry let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his messy curls. His lifestyle? What even was his "lifestyle"? He was a bisexual man with a fondness for romantic comedies and an unshakable belief in treating people decently. That was it.

Why did it matter? Why did it always matter?

The thoughts spilled over, unbidden, a torrent of frustration and exhaustion. He didn't understand why people were so determined to judge anyone who didn't fit into their neat little boxes. As if there was something wrong with stepping outside the rigid confines of their so-called "normal."

What was so threatening about it? Weren't they supposed to be living in a time of progress? A time when people could be accepted for who they were, without having to justify or explain themselves?

Harry sank onto the couch, the phone still pressed to his ear, though he barely heard his father's voice now. His mind was elsewhere, caught in the swirling chaos of questions he'd asked himself too many times before.

Why couldn't people see that none of it mattered, gender, sexuality, religion, race? The only thing that should matter was how people treated one another. A good heart, a little kindness. That was all anyone should care about.

Because in times like these, with everything they were facing, wasn't that what truly mattered? Looking out for one another, seeing each other as equals, as human beings, regardless of the labels society tried to stick on them?

Harry leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment. He wished, not for the first time, that the world could just be better. That people like his father, or Louis Tomlinson, for that matter, could let go of their assumptions and see people for who they really were.

"Harry? Are you still there?" His father's voice broke through, uncertain.

"Yeah," Harry said finally, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. "I'm here."

But he didn't feel here. Not really. Because as much as he wanted to fight for himself and what he believed in, he felt so tired of having to.

"Dad... I don't think I can work with him."

Harry's voice was so small it almost disappeared, barely audible over the thundering in his own ears. For a moment, he wasn't even sure his father had heard him.

There was a pause, sharp and heavy, and then his father's voice came through, cold and clipped. "What do you want me to say, Harry? Get your shit together and man up. There's nothing I can do anymore. You're going to have to handle it."

And just like that, the line went dead, replaced by the steady, mocking tone of a disconnect.

Harry stared at the phone in his hand, uncomprehending. Then the frustration boiled over. "Fuck!" The word tore from him, filling the room as he hurled his phone onto the couch. He gripped his hair, his hands shaking as he pulled at the curls, trying.. and failing to ease the storm raging inside him.

The air felt heavy, suffocating, and for a moment, he thought he might choke on it. His knees buckled, and he sat down hard on the floor, his head falling into his hands. He wanted to scream again, louder this time, but instead, there was only silence.

And in that silence, it hit him like it always did. The ache, the desperate longing.

Gemma.

His sister. His rock. The one who always had an answer, always knew what to say when things got bad. The person he could call at any hour, knowing she'd pick up and tell him exactly what he needed to hear, even if it was something he didn't want to.

But not now.

Not since she disappeared.

Now, no matter how many times he dialed her number, she wouldn't pick up. No matter how many times he prayed, begged, or whispered her name into the darkness, there was only her voicemail. That damned voicemail.

The lump in his throat grew unbearable as he unlocked his phone and tapped her name again, the motion so familiar it felt automatic. He brought it to his ear, listening to her voice, the cheery, warm tone she'd recorded long ago.

"Hi, this is Gemma! I can't come to the phone right now, but leave a message, and I'll get back to you soon!"

The beep came, sharp and final.

"Gemma," Harry whispered, his voice already breaking. "I need you. I need you so much. Please come back."

His breath hitched as the tears came, hot and unstoppable, streaking down his cheeks. His chest felt tight, every word a struggle. "I - I love you. I'll do anything, okay? I swear. I'll find you, I promise I will. Just... hold on, wherever you are. Please. Just hold on."

The line cut off with another beep, and Harry let the phone slip from his fingers. He stayed like that, crumpled on the floor, his head pressed against his knees, the weight of it all crushing him.

His tears stained the carpet, his breath ragged and shallow, but the exhaustion was stronger than the ache. Eventually, his body gave in, and he fell asleep where he sat, curled up on the cold floor of his bedroom.

Around him, the wreckage of the night lay untouched, empty bottles of wine scattered haphazardly, discarded clothes strewn across the room. His gun, still tucked into its holster, sat abandoned on the dresser.

The man he used to be, the composed, commanding agent everyone admired, felt like a ghost now, a distant memory.

All that was left was this: the aching shell of a brother who had lost the only person who ever truly knew him.

It was only when Niall woke him up, that he snapped back to reality. To this weird reality that was now his life, in which he has to function if he wanted to or not.

"Harry, get up mate." The voice rang in his ears and he groaned. At least a little sign that he was there. Still there, still alive.

Why was he still alive? Is there a reason to stay alive when you've lost the one thing worth living for?

Yes. He had to remember himself, yes, there was a reason. He had to find his sister. Alive, preferably.

The thought of her being dead made him sick and before he could react he leaned over and dry heaved on his floor. Well, at least there's a benefit from not eating regularly - there's nothing to throw up.

Still, the feeling of your body trying to get rid of something that isn't there isn't exactly comfortable.

" 'm sorry." He mumbled.

"It's okay, you're okay. I've got you. Do you think you can get up?" Niall was an angel, he really was the best friend Harry could ask for at times like these.

"Yeah." Harry sat up and let his gaze scan around the room, trying to figure out where exactly he was and how he got there.

As always, there's something missing. He doesn't even question it anymore.

"Great, that's good mate. Come on." He helped his boss get up properly and lead him to his bathroom where he prepared the toothbrush.

Thankfully Harry was still able to brush his own teeth, he spat the toothpaste in the sink and splashed some cold water in his face.

He definitely felt better when he was done and he looked embarrassed to where Niall was standing, waiting for him leaning against the door frame.

"Say it already." He looked at Niall waiting for lecture him or doing something.

"Harry, this has to stop." The Irish boy sighed and Harry huffed. "You're slowly killing yourself here mate. And what help would a dead detective be?"

Niall was right, Harry knew that. But he just can't stop.

"What even triggered it this time?" He asked and followed his friend out of the bathroom and into the kitchen where Harry grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with tap water. He downed it in one large gulp and refilled it immediately.

He searched for some Advil, after he finally found the pills he took two and emptied the glass. At least his head would stop pounding soon.

"Tomlinson was here." The man shook his head as he relived what had happened last night.

"What? Like in your house? Why?" That's a good question, Horan, if only I knew Harry thought.

"Yes, in my house. I was having a quiet night when suddenly there was someone at the door. I expected it to be Cara even if I told her I wasn't up for it but oh look how wrong I was." He pinched his nose with his pointer finger and thumb before he continued. "It was none other than fucking stranger boy. And before you ask, I have no idea what he wanted. He just came in without my permission and threw a load of bullshit at me - I wasn't having any of it so I threw him out." Harry told the story as vaguely as possible, not exactly wanting to think about it any longer or even worse - think about what happened afterwards.

"That's just strange, mate. How does he even know where you live?" Not exactly the question Harry had expected but okay.

He stood up again to find something to eat, not feeling like cooking he just grabbed a banana.

"He's a cop, Niall, and he now has access to all our databases. So it's not necessarily difficult to find me isn't it?" His tone was sharper than he intended it to be and be and he immediately felt bad for snapping at Niall - again.

"Sure.." the other man huffed. "I probably should go now, you good now mate?" He stood up and was about to leave but Harry panicked.

"Stay! Okay? Please Niall, I know you're probably tired of hearing that but I'm sorry. I - I didn't -"

"Mean it - yeah Harry, I know." The blonde ran a hand through his hair, once so sure of leaving he now sat back down at the table.

The truth was, as much as Niall tried to support his best friend, he only had so much patience and understanding, and he was slowly reaching that limit. And yes, maybe he was the one who voted to bring Louis onto the team, maybe he even was the one who almost begged for someone to finally be hired, someone who could help and someone who would be there so that Niall wouldn't be alone anymore. Because he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't watch his best friend, his brother, destroy himself like that any longer. But that's something he'll hopefully keep to himself for a long time. That's something nobody has to know - hopefully - for a long time.

"You need help, Harry. And I mean professional help. I'm always willing to listen and I'm only one call away but - the alcohol and .." He wasn't sure how to say it, he knew he had to be careful but the situation is getting out of hand and Harry had to understand that.

"I don't need professional help, Niall. I'm no alcoholic if that's what you wanted to say. That's bullshit and you know that! I'm not always drunk nor am I drunk at work!" He got so angry with his best friend he felt his pulse starting to rise, his ears began to ring and he needed to get out of this situation.

He wasn't standing here and listen to shit like that.

"Not yet!" Niall yelled. "But it's only a matter of time isn't it? You drink until you pass out, Harry. That's not healthy! You use alcohol to numb yourself, to not feel anything anymore - I don't know what else has to happen for you to finally see that!"

"Leave!" Harry's voice echoed off the walls, followed by a loud crash as the barstool hit the floor.

Niall just stood there with an open mouth, speechless he slowly shook his head. With sad eyes and one last disappointed look at Harry he left.

As the front door slammed shut, Harry collapsed to the floor, sobbing on his knees he crawled over to the nearest cabinet - thankful for his secret stash of alcohol.

Chapter Text

"We have to check all of the places again." Louis leaned back in his chair and looked at Harry expectantly. The late fall sun shining on his face and accentuating his sharp features.

Not that Harry paid attention to it, of course.

The latter just laughed. "Yeah, sure because we have nothing better to do. We have searched all of the locations thoroughly thank you very much." The day had only just begun and Harry was already done with it. A headache forming behind his eyes as he had to watch the new addition to their team all day long.

"No need to be all bitchy, you got your period or what?" Louis chuckled and if looks could kill he'd be six feet under by now.

Fucking misogynist.

"Just -" Multiple replies popped up in Harry's brain but was it really worth it? "Just shut up, okay?" He sighed and slipped his glasses back on to focus on the open map between them.

He didn't know how much time already passed but he was exhausted. Five minutes with Louis felt like five years and that's precious time when you're trying to find your missing sister.

Deep down he knew he was exaggerating, but could you blame him? He was perfectly fine before stranger boy appeared in his life and now everything went to shit, well even more shit than before. Seemed as nobody really trusted in him with anything. 

"I'm serious, okay?" Louis sat up and cleared his throat, his usual playful look now serious, something Harry hadn't seen before. "We need to search all locations again, including the victims' homes, to -" And there the younger detective interrupted.

"Don't call them victims - not - just - please." He searched for the right words but couldn't find them. Because professionally speaking, he knew that victims was the right term.

Emotionally speaking, the word had too much meaning. To his surprise, Louis responded with a subtle nod and continued.

"As I was saying, we need to search everything again, because unlike before, we now know what to look for." he finished the sentence and Harry had an idea in which direction he wanted to go.

Because even though he was generally annoyed, he had already listened to Louis on the first day.

"To find possible clues to The Red Lily." Harry concluded the conversation and was rewarded with a satisfied grin from Louis.

"I'll put teams together. Um, I hope you don't mind if I want to treat our house separately? I mean - if so, I'll take care of it myself. But believe me, I've turned everything upside down." He took his lower lip between his teeth and chewed on it.

He saw Louis' eyes fall to his lips and immediately pressed them into a thin line.

"How many times and with how many teams has your house been searched?" The other man asked.

"Um..." Harry began and Louis raised an eyebrow. 

"Don't tell me it's what I think...," When after a while there was no answer he shook his head and buried his face in his hands and groaned "Harry...".

The other agent raised his hands in fake surrender.

"I just didn't feel comfortable doing it and my father immediately supported it. He was the one who helped me and he assured me he had searched everything thoroughly. Of course I trust him. This is about my sister - his daughter. So yes, my decision stands. Our house is off limits to others."

"Don't take it the wrong way, but that's bullshit. Gemma is your family. You can't think rationally at all when it comes to her. You are not professional and unprofessionalism leads to mistakes. Mistakes that you already made when you didn't hand over this job. Because let's face the truth here: you are not the right person for this job." The Tomlinson man finished his speech and Harry was on the edge of his chair.

He stood up in one leap, the chair flying away behind him hitting the floor-to-ceiling window in his office.

He leaned over the desk and looked deep into the eyes of the person opposite him. Fucking blue eyes met his and his pulse increased even further.. he was so angry.

How many times was he going to let himself be insulted by an man who had no idea what he was talking about? It was enough. Harry had had enough. And Louis seemed to notice that. He raised his hands in a placating manner and stood up, without saying anything and without turning around again he left his boss's office.

Harry turned around to collect his chair and sat back down. He reached for his phone on the desk and opened his text messages.

He quickly texted Cara to ask if she'd ike to come over for dinner and he felt a little better after she agreed.

He pocketed his phone and messily arranged the files and stuff on his desk before grabbing his stuff and leaving his office.

The agent greeted Maggie, their assistant, on his way out and wished her a good night. Maggie, the sweet soul she was quickly replied with a nod and kind words in return.

Harry liked Maggie from the first moment. She's about his Mum's age and definitely shared the same kindness. He knew her since he was a little boy, when his Dad used to take him to the station to show him all and let him play with the old radios they had. He always pretended to be an officer as well, so sure of his dream to be one one day.

Oh, how that thought has changed. What would he give to have a normal office job? If someone had told him before that he would ever regret his job, he would have laughed. He would have laughed heartily. It would never have occurred to him. He would never have imagined that his own sister would one day become part of his work. And that everything would change on that day.

He reached his home with his thoughts in a poor order, once again unable to remember how he got there. He unlocked the door and took off his shoes, placing them neatly on the small shelf next to the door and hanging his jacket and holster on the coat rack. He threw the key into the small bowl provided and headed straight for the kitchen. He didn't feel like a big meal so he quickly prepared a lasagna.

When the Italian dish was in the oven, he made his way to the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He took off his clothes and folded his pants, throwing his shirt and underwear into the hamper in the corner of his bedroom. He turned on the water in the shower and turned to the mirror. Once again he was struck by a reflection he had never seen before. His eyes were sunken in and dark and his cheekbones were more prominent than ever. Harry wasn't blind, he could see the negative changes that stress was doing to his body. He closed his eyes and turned his head from right to left, a cracking sound echoed through the bathroom and a brief relief ran through his body. Maybe it was time for a professional massage after all. The mirror fogged up, reminding Harry why he was in the bathroom.

He stepped under the hot stream, goosebumps erupting all over his body from the high temperature of the water. Harry doesn't mind, the burning sensation on his skin was a nice distraction from the constant burning in his heart.

He laid his head back and let the water run over his face for a moment. When his hair was wet, he reached for his raspberry scented shampoo and massaged the fruity foam in. The gentle pressure of his fingers on his head was almost relaxing and he used his fingernails for an extra sensation. He could do this for hours, but then he remembered that Cara was about to come and quickly rinsed the soap out. Today there was no time for his usual routine, but his matching conditioner was a must.

The detective made quick work of it and got out of the shower, wrapped his hair in a towel and dried his body with the fluffy towel, which he threw into the hamper shortly afterwards.

For a brief moment he considered using perfume, but decided against it and just slipped into his wool socks and jogging pants - without boxers, because what's the use for them - and leaving his upper body bare.

The house smelled delicious of the food that was baking in the oven and a glance at the clock told him that he still had a good 30 minutes before Cara would be there. Knowing her, probably more like 15 minutes.

As predicted, about 17 minutes later the doorbell rang just as Harry was about to get the food out. His pink and yellow polka dotted oven mitts still on he opened the door and was met with a smiling Cara. She threw her arms around his neck and he greeted her with a kiss on her cheek to which she giggled like a school girl.

"Oh it smells amazing, baby." She practically stormed past him without taking off her shoes and Harry scowled at her. He hated shoes in his home, he always made sure to keep the floors clean because there's nothing worse than dirty white socks. He's no control or cleaning freak, well most of the time, but he sure loved a tidy home.

"Thanks but ..." He came up after her when she turned around and after one look she seemed to remember.

"Ah shit, sorry." She halfheartedly laughed and took off her shoes and putting them on the shelf beside the door.

Harry smiled when she came back. "You need socks?" He asked and mentioned to the brown woven wicker basket that held different pairs of socks for visitors. Oh the amount of shit he became for it from his mates but honestly, it was a game changer more nights than not.

"I'm good." She playfully rolled her eyes but Harry can't say if she's really annoyed or just trying to mess with him. That's one thing that always bothered him, that he can't read her. Yes, they were intimate with each other for quite a time now and yes they trusted each other and of course they talked about private things but still.

Harry put coasters in the middle of the neatly set table and placed their dinner on them. He used a match to light the almost burnt out candles on his dining table. Yes, he loved candlelight and no, contrary to popular belief, it no longer has any special meaning for him. He did it just for himself because he liked it when the room shimmered in the light of the burning candle. Illuminating it and letting shadows dance on the wall.

Dinner went smoothly. The gentleman he was, he asked several times if everything was good and refilled her glass of wine. The usual compliments about the food fell from Cara's mouth and Harry smiled at each one. He knew that she enjoyed it, but he also knew that she was trying to please him. Once more he saw her gaze dart over his naked torso and knew how this night would end. Of course he knew and of course he wanted it, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that he was just using her. Where she hoped for more, he only had the need for sexual satisfaction.

And that was exactly what happened after they had cleared the table together. And now Harry laid on his back, staring at the ceiling while his thoughts ran a marathon. Long blond hair tickled his face and cold feet crept between his legs, making him uncomfortable. Yet he would never wake her or ask her to leave.

After minutes .. or hours, his brain finally found peace and fell into a dreamless sleep. The longing for something else, someone else, more present than ever.

If only he knew where this feeling suddenly came from.

Chapter Text

The week flew by in a blur and before he knew it, it was Friday 4pm, he hadn't heard from Louis and had time to think about the new detective's suggestion. Deep down, Harry knew that Louis was right. Given the new information, it only made sense to start over. Now they had something to look for, a clue, a small ray of hope. But Harry would never admit that.

And then there was the matter of his parents mansion. Harry wouldn't have had a problem if a team had come, but Des had assured him that he had already searched everything and Harry had also taken a closer look at Gemma's room in particular.

Back then there was nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that caught Harry's attention.

Still, he put teams together.

He used the whole week to draw up a bulletproof plan. He divided the area into sectors and assigned a team to each sector. He made lists of what needed to be checked and double-checked whether there were any locations that had been forgotten but could be important. And his parents' house, where Gemma disappeared from, was also on his list. Specially marked, high priority.

With the note: Investigators: Detective Harry E. Styles, Detective Niall J. Horan and Detective Louis W. Tomlinson.

Once he was satisfied, it was time, so he pushed the small speaker button on his telephone and said "Maggie, please bring in Niall and Tomlison."

Immediately her voice came through, saying that both men were on their way to his office.

Not even a whole minute later there was a knock on his door and after he called out a yes Niall stepped in with a big grin on his face followed by a bored looking Louis.

"Mornin' mate." Niall came up to Harry's desk and plopped down in on one of the chairs. Louis followed and muttered something that hardly sounded like a good morning but Harry couldn't blame him.

Stranger boy sat down beside Niall, legs spread with his right ankle crossed over his left knee and Harry feared his annoyingly tight jeans would rip. Surely he doesn't need to see that.

He noticed that he still had his eyes between Louis legs and what the fuck? And if there was a smug grin on Louis face he'd pretend he hasn't seen that.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly and leaned forward in his chair.

"Thank you for coming." He began and folded out the papers he had on his desk, both other boys leaning forward to get a look on it.

"What's that?" Niall asked and by the look of it Louis already knew when he said. "Your boss did listen to me and made a plan." Harry glared at him.

"Don't push your luck. But yes, Louis is right. We will search everything again. I have drawn up a map and assigned the teams. After you have given your consent, we will inform the teams and things will start on Monday." He looked up and both men nodded with their gaze still on the map.

"As you can see, we will also do my parents house again. But it will only be the three of us doing this, as discreetly as possible. I have booked my parents a long weekend in Paris from Saturday to Tuesday, which means we are leaving on Sunday. It is important that my parents do not find out about this." He said in a serious tone and while Niall knew why, Louis furrowed his brows and asked.

"Anne is having a hard time accepting and living with everything. We are trying to keep everything that has to do with the case or the police away from her. And Desmond.."

"Styles Sr.?" Louis interrupted and Harry nodded when Niall continued to speak.

"He's.. let's say he has a hard time giving up control." Harry stood up after Niall explained the situation as vague as possible. Last thing he needed was pity or another bad joke or comment.

"I understand. And I'm in." Louis answered without missing a beat and Harry nearly got whiplash from how fast he turned around.

And when he looked at Louis there was no trace of uncertainty. If anything there's a hint of genuine understanding.

"Plan looks good, let's instruct them, should we?" Louis looked between Niall and his boss, both wearing the same expression, something between astonishment and unbelievability.

Harry really wanted to trust him, and he was very sure that he could read people well and he saw no doubts in Louis at that moment. Still, he was reluctant to trust stranger boy right away. But he had everything he needed for the plan and decided to give Louis the benefit of the doubt. He'll just keep a close eye on him.

Niall was up too, hands on his hips with an amused smile on his lips as if he knew exactly what his friend of many years was thinking in this moment.

"Alright. Niall please let Maggie inform the unit, we'll meet them at," He took a look at his watch. "Let's say ten sharp. I need to speak to Tomlinson alone. Thank you." The blonde boy nodded and playfully saluted to what the long haired man just rolled his eyes.

He was met with a curios looking Louis who meanwhile had sat down again.

"Am I in trouble, boss?" There's sarcasm dripping from his words and not for the first time Harry had the urge to just push him against the wall and beat the shit out of him. And he isn't even a violent person was the thing.

"Careful." He retorted and strolled around his desk so that he now stood directly in front of Louis. With crossed arms he slightly leaned forward. Clearly aware of the superior position he took. His mother had taught him early on how important it was to treat other people as equals. Something like "if you want other people to respect you, you have to respect them first." She was certainly right about that, respect and recognition are important, especially in his job. His father, however, had taught him that it didn't hurt if you took advantage of your position of power every now and then.

And he rarely did, except for the constant aura that surrounded him whenever he was at work. But this time it seemed necessary - just to be safe and only as long as he did not know the true motives and background of his new colleague.

"I say it now once and for all. If you try to pull any shit behind my back or if you lie to me or betray me, I swear to god I'll kill you and I don't give a fuck about going to prison. There's no reason for me to stay alive without my sister, I have nothing to lose so don't try me." He leaned forward, both hands on each armrest of Louis' chair, looking directly into his eyes.

His heart was beating rapidly in his chest as piercing blue eyes stared right back into his green ones. With each second passing, the air became thinner, barely any blue left in the older man's eyes, his pupils dark and dilated.

A strange feeling ran through his body, a cold shiver down his spine and he almost lost composure with this unfamiliar sensation.

Louis cleared his throat and looked down. "I'll be a good boy, I promise." He blinked a few times before looking up at Harry through his lashes and then watching the younger agents adam's apple bobbing.

He pushed Louis chair hard, the latter gripping the armrest out of reflex as he went down, landing with a loud thud on the ground.

He groaned in pain from the impact of the fall on his back and stayed in this position when Harry stepped above him.

"Don't. Play. With. Me." He emphasised each word and spat them at Louis, laced in venom, dripping down on the other boy. The he stepped over him to his liquor cabinet. "You can go now."

And that was exactly what the other man did.

About an hour later they all met again at the big conference room in the basement. The professional detective he was, Harry went through the plan without difficulties. He made sure every single cop knew exactly what to do and when. And when he dismissed them after a good three hours of briefing he was satisfied.

Satisfied, and ready for a drink.

"Up for a drink at Satellite tonight?" His best mate seemed to read his thoughts and Harry smiled at him.

"Sure." He replied as he packed up the papers.

"Great. What about you, Louis?" Was the next thing he heard Niall say and turned around to look at him questioningly, the Irish boy only shrugged to that.

"Um, sure.. why not?" It was more a question than anything else but he got his composure back pretty quickly. "Sure. Count me in."

***

Harry took his time in the bathroom. It was time for his big skin care routine and body hair removal anyway, so he might as well do it today before a night at the bar. Not that he was planning anything. But he just felt better when he was groomed - and who knows, at the end of the night he'd still have Cara if he felt like it.

Raspberry and coconut scented steam filled the room and fogged up the large mirrors. He ran a hand over the surface and caught a glimpse of his damp, freshly washed body. Yes, Harry was confident and yes, he knew that he looked good. He applied his moisturizer and some Tobacco Vanille by Tom Ford.

Tonight he was feeling colorful, so he opted for a pink polka dotted shirt with the top buttons undone and his usual black skinny jeans and black shiny ankle boots.

One last look in his full body mirror, fixing some strands of his hair and he was done. The detective grabbed his things and left for the Satellite.

It was about 9pm when he got to the place, he went straight to the bar where Liam was throwing a shaker in the air a few times before pouring some orange liquid into a glass.

He talked to a guest when he saw Harry and immediately waved at his friend.

"Harry. Mate, good to see you." They greeted and the good friend and even better bartender he was, he knew exactly what to bring Harry so it took him no time to get to his first Tequila shot.

Since he came to the Satellite he always started with a shot, after that he usually was up to anything, whatever mood he was in or whatever drink he got from someone else.

They used the time to catch up, Harry sipped on his scotch that he got by now, when someone called Harry's name. Niall came up behind them and patted Harry on the shoulder in greeting. Not a minute later he had a Guinness in front of him and the two men thanked Liam and looked for a table in the corner. The conversations were flowing smoothly when loud laughter echoed through the bar. Harry turned around first, and there he was. Louis fucking Tomlison had actually accepted Niall's invitation and come. Like the first day he saw him, he was wearing a ridiculous outfit for a place like that.

He wore a Reebok tracksuit jacket with a retro pattern in purple, black and white, combined with plain black track pants and white sneakers.

That man was a detective, how can he dress like that?

"Oi, oi." Louis said in greeting and Harry had the urge to roll his eyes, something that seemed to happen often when in presence of Louis.

Louis grinned. "Miss me already, Princess?"

Harry now rolled his eyes, taking another sip of his drink. "Hardly."

Louis slid onto the stool beside him, far too comfortable for Harry's liking. "Well, too bad," Louis said, stealing a sip of Harry's drink like they were old friends. "You're stuck with me, love."

Harry exhaled through his nose. "Don't call me that."

Louis smirked. "Why not? It gets under your skin, doesn't it?"

It did. Everything about Louis got under Harry's skin.

But before Harry could argue, he felt eyes on him. Turning his head slightly, he caught the dark-haired man at the bar watching them.

"Who's that?" Harry asked, nodding toward him.

Louis followed his gaze, then chuckled. "That's Zayn."

"Do I know him?" Harry muttered.

"Maybe." Louis glanced at him sideways. "Or maybe you just wish you did."

Harry ignored that, choosing instead to observe Zayn. The guy looked vaguely familiar, but Harry couldn't place where he'd seen him before. What he could admit though, was that he looked insanely good, otherwordly, god like. He really wouldn't mind letting him -

When Zayn caught Harry staring, he raised an eyebrow. "What the fuck are you looking at?" Harry didn't even realise the man had made his way over to them.

Harry blinked. "Excuse me?"

Zayn tilted his head, looking Harry up and down. "You're staring. Something you like?"

Harry bristled. "You look familiar, that's all."

Zayn scoffed. "Right." Then he turned away, as if Harry wasn't worth the conversation.

Harry clenched his jaw. "Charming."

Louis laughed beside him. "You get used to it."

Harry wasn't sure he wanted to.

Niall, the kind guy he was gave Louis a side hug with an awkward clap on the back.

"Louis, glad you made it." The blonde boy said and smiled. Harry just watched the scene in silence, he brought his drink to his lips to try and hide the amused smile.

"So, that's Zayn. Don't be put off by his cold demeanor, he's just trying to be cool or so, deep down he's just a puppy." Louis chuckled as he introduced Niall too, receiving a burning stare from his friend no.

"Nice to meet ya. Niall." Niall was the first one to speak after that more than weird encounter, he stretched his hand out and Zayn took it with a small smile on his lips and another short nod.

A man of many words, it seemed.

Louis and Niall kept the mood and conversation going. The two clicked immediately and if Harry hadn't been friends with Niall for so long, he might have been jealous.

Zayn, as expected, stayed quiet the whole night, a quick yes or no when spoken to and otherwise alternating between staring at Harry and his phone.

It was about two hours later when he felt another pair of eyes on his body and his gaze wandered to his new partner, whose eyes were currently lingering on the curly haired boy's chest. Feeling caught, Louis winked and ran his tongue over his lower lip.

What was going on?

And if Harry hadn't been so intoxicated, he probably would have gotten up and left. Instead, he let his posture go loose, leaning forward in a way that made his shirt fall open just slightly, exposing the toned skin of his chest and the butterfly tattoo. He let his fingers trail absentmindedly over the rim of his glass, his eyes lidded and slow when he turned to Louis.

Louis noticed.

Harry saw the flicker of something in his gaze, just for a second, before Louis smirked.

Aha, exactly the reaction he was hoping for. No, wait. That was obviously not the reaction he was hoping for.

"Is that supposed to work on me?" Louis asked, amused.

Harry feigned innocence. "What?"

Louis hummed, taking another sip of his beer. "You're trying to seduce me with your body."

Harry only scoffed. "You wish."

Then Louis smirked. "You're going to have to try harder than that, Styles."

Harry's lips twitched. "You're so full of yourself, Tomlinson."

"Hm. I bet you wish it was you that was full of me." He raised a brow and Harry nearly choked to death over his drink.

"Fuck you."

"Oh, that I will do tonight." Andwith that he got up and excused himself to the restroom .

And one thing was certain – because.. oh -

Chapter Text

Oh ..?

Just as Harry was about to reach for his phone and text Cara for a booty call, he felt a presence next to him. The couch he sat on slightly sank with the new added weight and he immediately knew who it was. That was a quick visit at the restroom. 

"Can I help you?" The detective turned his head with a raised eyebrow and was met with a smug grin, a grin that he wanted to smack off of his face but that wasn't appropriate.

"Nope." He said, popping the p. "This couch just looked so comfortable and my ass fucking hurts from sitting on those horrible hard chairs for hours." The older man leaned on his side so he could show his bum to Harry and pouted.

"You're ridiculous. How old are you? Three?" Harry scoffed and took another sip of his drink while he scooted a bit more the other side, further away from Louis.

He was pretty comfortable on this couch when he still had it for himself. He was pretty comfortable with Louis sitting across from him with a safe distance between them. There's really no need for them to sit so near.

"Five actually, thank you very much." Louis retorted and crossed his arms in front of his chest, he pushed his bottom lip forward into an exaggerated pout and Harry snorted annoyed.

Child.

"Nah, I'm adorable and you'll fall for me charm sooner rather than later." Harry was sure Louis spoke with a slight german accent, but now, after a few drinks, he could clearly hear the thick Yorkshire accent. 

"Not happening." Harry muttered and watched as Louis took his beer in his hand, thin lips wrapping around the opening, Harry watches his adams apple bobbing as he took long gulps out off the bottle.

His tongue slowly ran over his upper lip to collect the alcohol that remained there. His lips now red from the pressure of the bottle and glistening in beer and saliva.

If he was any other person, Harry would've made a move. But this was Louis. His now partner and the biggest asshole to wander this planet. 

Get your shit together, Styles.

"M irresistible." He wiggled his brows and Harry scrunched his nose in disgust.

"I'm pretty sure the word you're looking for is impossible." And touché, he was quite proud of his reply, nothing wrong with that.

"You're ridiculous." Louis scoffed playfully and Harry raised his hands in mock defence.

"Heeeey. I'm hilarious." He chuckled and watched as the older man pursed his lips, trying to hide a smile.

Harry took advantage of the brief moment when Louis was quiet and watched Zayn. He searched his memory for anything useful. Something that would explain the strange situation at the beginning. But there was nothing. Nothing that was helpful.

"Hey Louis?" He elbowed the older boy to get his attention. Louis looked at him.

"What's Zayn's last name?" Please don't ask why, please don't ask why.

"Rogers." Harry waited a second but nothing. Thank god, but what kind of detective was he, just giving information without wanting to know why.

Harry only nodded. Storing the name in the back of his head with the promise to search for it in the databases later.

**

Harry had resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't escaping this night early. Niall, ever the social butterfly, was already getting along with Zayn, the two deep in a conversation about music, of all things. Meanwhile, Louis was being his usual infuriating self, sitting too comfortably beside Harry, his leg stretched out under the table, brushing against Harry's knee just enough to make it noticeable but not enough to be outright intentional.

Harry tried to ignore it.

"So let me get this straight," Zayn said, setting his beer down and pointing at Niall. "You're telling me that Coldplay is better than Oasis?"

Niall scoffed. "I'm telling you that Coldplay's discography is more consistent. Oasis got, what? Two good albums, and the rest is just-"

"You did not just disrespect Oasis in front of me," Zayn deadpanned.

"Did I fucking stutter?" Niall grinned, taking a sip of his drink.

Louis snorted. "Careful, mate. Zayn looks like he's about to leap across the table and fight you."

Zayn shrugged, completely serious. "Might."

Harry, watching this exchange, raised an eyebrow. "You're really getting this worked up over Oasis?"

Zayn turned his sharp gaze onto him. "And what do you listen to, detective?" He said 'detective' like it was an insult.

Harry leaned back, smirking. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Louis rolled his eyes. "Bet it's something basic like Fleetwood Mac."

Harry gasped dramatically. "That is a classic band, Tomlinson, and I will not stand for this slander."

"Called it." Zayn grinned, taking another sip of his beer.

Louis, looking far too entertained, suddenly reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a small bag of weed, dropping it onto the table.

"Well, since we're arguing about music like we're in college again," Louis said, smirking, "we might as well complete the experience."

Niall's eyes lit up. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

Harry frowned. "Are we really doing this?"

Louis raised an eyebrow. "What, never smoked before, detective?"

Harry groaned. "I have, but-"

"Then shut up and take the joint."

"Okay, okay," Niall wheezed, barely able to contain his laughter. "Would you rather - listen to me," he held up a finger. "Would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses?"

Zayn, slumped against the booth, blinked lazily. "Mate... I am the duck."

Louis howled with laughter, nearly tipping his beer over. "What the fuck does that mean?"

Harry, who was significantly less drunk but very much high, stared at his drink as if it held the answers to life itself. "One horse-sized duck," he muttered. "Because the little ones would be too fast. Can't fight that many at once."

Louis turned to him, genuinely impressed. "See, I hate to admit it, but that's solid logic."

"Course it is," Harry said smugly, leaning back on the booth. "I'm smart."

Louis snorted. "Debatable."

They bickered for a while after that, playful and snarky, but the tension between them was still there, underlying everything. Every now and then, Harry would catch Louis looking at him, blue eyes flickering with something unreadable. He tried not to acknowledge it.

By the time they stumbled out of the bar, the air was cool, and the city was winding down. Niall was in the middle of a tipsy rant about how fast food chains should serve breakfast 24/7 when Zayn suddenly made a noise.

A very concerning noise.

And then, without a word, he staggered toward the nearest bush and promptly threw up.

"Oh," Niall said, blinking. "That's... that's unfortunate."

Harry grimaced. "Jesus Christ."

Louis cackled, hands on his knees as he doubled over laughing. "He went down like a fucking soldier."

"Shut up," Zayn groaned weakly from the bush.

"Okay, okay, we need to get him home," Niall said, rubbing his temples before sighing. "I'll take him."

"You sure?" Harry asked, still watching Zayn, who was currently muttering something about needing "to fight the fucking duck."

Niall rolled his eyes. "I got him. You-" he nodded toward Louis and Harry, "-try not to kill each other."

And then, just like that, it was just Harry and Louis.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The streetlights cast a golden glow on Louis' face, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the way his lips were curled up just slightly, like he was always on the verge of saying something cocky.

Harry swallowed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You know I still don't like you, right?"

Louis smirked. "Yeah, yeah. And yet, here we are."

Harry scoffed, turning away. "Whatever."

Louis chuckled, stepping closer. "You're not as fun when you're not drunk."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And you're not as annoying when you're not talking."

Louis grinned. "Admit it, you'd be bored without me."

Harry bit his lip to keep from smiling. Damn it. He hated when Louis was right.

They stood outside the bar. Still watching - for whatever reason - the bush Zayn threw up in. 

Until Louis pulled out what was left of the joint. He lit it again and took a drag.

Harry watched as Louis' jaw sharpened, as his cheeks hollowed and the veins on his hands became visible from where he held the joint between his thumb and pointer finger.

Harry didn't know what came over him when he reached out with his hands and with a feather light touch, barely palpable, he touched Louis' jaw.

The other boy stilled. Slowly bringing the joint back down and turning his head to Harry who still had his hand on his jawline.

That was what brought Harry out of his trance. He quickly snatched his hand back, cheeks turning crimson red - thankfully not visible from the lack of light - the ground in front of him suddenly became very interesting.

There was silence, loud, screeching, silence. And Harry wished for the ground to open up and swallow him. This was wrong, this was bad. He had no right to feel this way. He despised him. And yet he felt the electricity still in his finger as he touched Louis' skin.

It had been a long time since he had felt anything like this. A long time since he had felt anything at all when he touched someone else.

And the fact that Louis was that person probably confused him more than anything else.

Louis cleared his throat. "Do you want another drag?" He asked an Harry looked at him through the dark.

He nodded, ashamed. And was surprised again when Louis brought the joint to his lips.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes wandering from Louis' hands to his eyes, while Louis' gaze was focused solely on Harry's lips.

Harry moistened his lips with his tongue and nodded. Louis brought the spliff to his lips and he opened his mouth.

His lips wrapped around the end and he felt the warmth of Louis' fingertips on his lips. He watched the older man as he took a drag. Louis swallowed and Harry swore he saw his eyes darken.

What was happening?

Harry followed Louis' example and held the smoke for a moment before exhaling. A grey cloud formed in the air in front of him before slowly dissipating into nothing.

They held eye contact for a moment longer. Neither had the courage to look away first.

And it was only when Louis' eyes repeatedly fell on Harry's lips and he slowly leaned closer that Harry awoke from his trance.

He cleared his throat and looked away. And as soon as he did that, the moment was destroyed. Whatever moment was happening between them. There was no going back now.

"I should go home," Harry said. Louis stayed where he was and watched him.

Louis looked back at the road and shook his head slowly. "Be safe." Was all he said, and Harry thought for a second. "You too." He replied.

And with that he turned around and left the other man standing there, on an empty sidewalk in front of a bar.

Harry made it home safely. He sent a quick text to Niall to let him know that he was home and saw that his best friend already texted him letting him know that he as well as Zayn were already back home.

Now it was only Louis, his finger hovered over the contact, unsure of what to do.

He locked his screen and plugged his phone into the charger.

Then he went into the bathroom and undressed, brushed his teeth, washed his face and combed his hair.

He went back into the bedroom and threw back the covers, fluffed up his pillow and climbed into bed.

His warm bare skin was a stark contrast to the cool bedding. He reached for the lamp on the nightstand and turned off the light, looking at the ceiling he let his eyes get used to the darkness.

After an eternity he felt tiredness winning. Blue eyes and red lips were the last thing he saw before sleep took over him.

Chapter Text

The first thing Harry registered was pain. A deep, throbbing, skull-cracking pain that made him groan before he even managed to open his eyes. His entire body felt like it had been thrown into a cement mixer and spat back out. His mouth was dry, his tongue felt like sandpaper, and the taste in his mouth - God, what the fuck had he consumed?

Squinting against the cruel daylight streaming through the window, Harry groaned and rolled onto his side, immediately regretting it when the shift sent nausea rolling through his stomach.

"Fuck." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, and even that felt too loud.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, making him flinch. With a deep sigh, he forced himself up just enough to grab it. The screen was way too bright, and he blinked blearily as he saw 18 new messages from Niall.

He groaned. "What the hell does he want?"

Ignoring the first dozen texts, he scrolled to the most recent ones.

Niall: Mate. You alive?
Niall: You looked like you were about to ascend into another plane of existence last night
Niall: Like, I actually considered calling a priest at one point
Niall: Call me. I need details. I wanna hear how much you regret your life choices.

Harry sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before reluctantly clicking on Niall's contact and pressing call.

The phone barely rang twice before Niall picked up. "Jesus Christ, it lives!"

Harry winced at the volume. "Shut the fuck up."

Niall cackled. "Oh mate, you sound like absolute shit."

"I feel like absolute shit." Harry dragged himself into a sitting position, regretting it immediately as his head pounded like a goddamn jackhammer. "What the hell happened last night?"

"Well," Niall drawled. "You mixed alcohol with weed, which was already a fantastic life choice, and then you spent half the night arguing with Louis like a married couple in denial."

Harry groaned, flopping back onto the bed. "Kill me."

"Oh, it gets better," Niall said, far too cheerful for Harry's state. "You also spent a solid ten minutes staring at him like he was a fucking Renaissance painting before you proceeded to insult his entire existence. It was artistic, really."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. "Why am I like this?"

"Mate, I ask myself that every day."

Harry let out a long breath, mind slowly piecing together fragments of last night. The bar, the drinks, Zayn puking into a bush -oh god, that poor bush- Niall dragging Zayn home, leaving him and Louis alone.

And then-

He remembered Louis' stupid smirk, the way he leaned in just close enough to get under Harry's skin. The way their banter had felt different last night, laced with something heavier, something charged.

His stomach flipped.

"You still there, mate?" Niall's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry muttered. "Just... processing."

"Processing what?"

"I-" He paused, swallowing. "Nothing. Just recovering from my bad decisions."

"You mean Louis?" Niall teased.

"Goodbye, Niall."

Harry hung up before he could hear the inevitable laughter on the other end.

Lying back down, he stared at the ceiling, his headache momentarily forgotten as memories of last night lingered in his mind.

He opened the other messages. One from his mum, thanking him for the trip with a lot of pictures. He smiled, glad that his mum was happy for once - but then remembered why he sent them away in the first place and there was a sour feeling deep in his stomach.

He replied with a short "looks beautiful, enjoy it. :)" And closed her chat.

And then there was another message. One that made Harry's pulse sped up.

Tomlinson:  home safr. hope you too. Great night. See ya tmr. Or today? Nevermikd.

Was he so drunk that he couldn't write properly or did he always text like that? Harry had no comparison but a small hope that it was the former. Because then there was a chance that he no longer knew what had happened between them. Whatever even that was that had happened between them.

Harry considered whether he should answer and his thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a moment too long, possible answers flying through his head.

He decided against it.

Harry put his phone back down, rubbing his eyes annoyed.

Oh what a great day it'd be.

He finally went to his bathroom, a hot shower and a thorough brushing of his teeth did wonders for his well-being.

He made a late breakfast with eggs, toast and bacon - more like lunch to be precise - no judgement. He prepared a kale smoothie to go and actually felt much better already.

It was almost 3pm when he made his way to the police station. The plan was to drive to his parents' house in the evening and search everything. But he figured that since he had to work on a Saturday anyway, he might as well be there as early as possible.

It was quiet in the office, the officers on duty were out on patrol. He sat down at his desk and the first thing he did was open the database.

He still had more to find out about a certain Zayn Rogers and that was exactly what he would do while he waited for Niall and Louis.

So he typed in the name and watched the little gear spinning, searching for results.

And there it was.

Harry looked at the screen and frowned.

Nothing.

There were no results for a Zayn Rogers.

He expanded the search beyond the UK and waited - again, nothing.

There were countless Zayn's, but not a single one with the name Rogers. There were Jones, Anderson and so on.

Still, nothing caught his eye. None of the results sounded helpful. A few with a picture to it but none of them was the Zayn he was looking for.

He closed his laptop and chewed on the inside of his cheek, searching his brain for any memories.

But he just couldn't remember.

Maybe it was something else entirely. 

Maybe Louis even knew about it and was covering for him. Maybe he should ask Louis after all. Or should he investigate on his own first, so far Louis could not be trustworthy.

"Hey mate." A voice tore him out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw a grinning Niall standing in the doorway. Two mugs in his hand. "I brought tea."

"Oh my god you're heaven sent. That's exactly what I need right now." The younger agent nearly moaned at the sight of the steaming drink and took the mug from the other man's hands.

Niall, as usual when they're alone, sat down on the sofa und sipped from his own cup.

"So, do you want to tell me about last night?" He wiggled his brows and Harry knew exactly what he meant.

But he wasn't keen on saying anything about what had happened. Had he really let himself go so much that he touched his new colleague inappropriately?

Was it inappropriate? Surely it would be different if Louis had been someone else. As it was, it was just unprofessional and crossing boundaries, right?

Maybe he should pretend he didn't remember anything, then he could just carry on as he always did - hating Louis. Don't get him wrong, he still hated Louis - well, hate is a strong word but he really, really didn't like him.

But something happened last night, something changed, if only he knew what.

"There's nothing to talk about, Nialler. You know that because you were there." He retorted and looked pointedly at his colleague and best friend.

The latter just grinned over his mug.

"What?"

"Oh come on, Harry. You know exactly what I'm talking about." He wiggled his brows and Harry was about to get really annoyed or to pour some whiskey in his tea to make this morning more bearable.

"Actually, I don't." The younger boy snapped back and seemed to do the trick.

"Sorry. I just thought there was some strange sexual tension between Louis and you." Niall finally answered and Harry didn't know what he expected - because deep down he felt a little pull himself - not that he'd ever admit that.

Still, he choked on his tea and the hot liquid splattered from his mouth and dripped down his chin.

And of course, in that exact moment there was a knock, followed by his door opening and a kinda disheveled looking Tomlinson came in.

"What is so funny?" Was the first thing he said when he was met with a furious giggling Niall who then pointed at the desk where Harry still was trying to breath properly.

With bright red cheeks he searched his drawer for a paper towel or something. Fucking hell, this day only got worse. He decided to just use his sleeve and wiped his chin and the surface of his desk in front of him that also got a little wet.

"Jesus, mate. You need a sippy cup?" The detective laughed. "Last night you had no trouble swallowing." He continued and Harry swore there was a shift in the room when the words came out of his mouth.

Because there was it, a mention of last night. Something Harry just wanted to forget.

"Oh that's funny, actually we were just speaking about last night, isn't that right, H?" Niall chimed in and Harry had the urge to throw his mug full force at the blonde man. Instead he just glared at him.

Louis looked from one to another. And opened his mouth just about to say something when Niall's ringtone blared through the room.

He picked up and excused himself out of said room and Harry wanted to yell at him to please stay so he didn't have to be alone with Louis.

The door shut with a click and then there was silence. The only sound being heard was the ticking of the clock above the door and some noise from the traffic outside and people doing their business on a regular Saturday.

Louis cleared his throat then and Harry winced.

Here goes nothing.

"So.." He took a few steps forward and Harry involuntary rolled back in his chair. Get your shit together, Styles. He thought to himself and watched stranger boy coming closer.

"What were you talking about?" He asked and sat down in front of Harry. The younger man let out a relived breath. What had he thought? Louis jumping over his desk and right into his lap? That'd would be ridiculous, and never going to happen..

He shook his head trying to get rid of his subconscious that seemed to talk to him more often lately. And also filling him with interesting images.

"Nothing particularly. Just agreed that it was a good night and we should do it more often." And what the fuck did he just say? He internally face palmed or more like smashed his face in the nearest wall and...

"I agree. We should do that. I had fun." And oh?

Louis now stood up again and Harry couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling. He slowly made his way around the desk, coming to halt directly in front of his boss.

He sat down on the desk, leaning his elbows on his thighs and lacing his fingers in front of him. Harry watched the scene like a hawk, his hands slightly sweaty and his heart rate increasing.

Louis chewed on the inside of his cheek and after a few unbearable seconds he looked up. Straight into Harry's eyes. The curly-haired man visibly swallowed and sat up straighter in his chair.

Never once losing eye contact.

"Tell me...," Louis began and Harry saw his eyes dropping to his mouth for a second just like last night. "Do you want to pretend nothing ever happened?"

Harry furrowed his brows and scrunched his nose, a habit he can't get rid off. Louis came closer, his hand now dangerously near Harry's on the armrest.. "Or do you want us to continue where we left off?"

Who does he think he is?

"Are you insane? Get the fuck off of me!" He raised his voice and abruptly stood up, now towering over the Tomlinson guy who raised his hands in mock offense before a slight grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Louis stood up too, taking another step towards Harry who took a step back and was met with the big floor to ceiling window behind him.

There was barely an inch between them now. Harry felt Louis' breath on his face and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

Now it was his time and he couldn't help but let his eyes fall down to Louis lips. He slightly opened his mouth.

"You shouldn't have dragged me into it." He breathed out and closed his eyes. Resisting the unwelcome urge to just close the distance and get a taste of those thin and rosy lips directly before him.

"But you touched me first." Louis voice was barely above a whisper, and Harry felt a featherlight touch on his left wrist.

Electricity.

"I shouldn't have done that. It was wrong." He mumbled through gritted theeth and pressed his eyes shut. He prayed for someone or something to get him out of this situation.

"Did it feel wrong?"

"Please, don't ...."

Suddenly the door opened and both men jumped back.

Just like that, the moment was destroyed, something broken still lingering in the air, unspoken words hung heavily from the ceiling and only one question was hovering over both of them...

What the hell did just happen?

Chapter Text

"Did I interrupt something?" Niall stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway, his gaze wandering from Harry to Louis who were now further apart but still too close to deny anything or just shrug the scene off.

"We thought - uh we heard - maybe an accident outside." -

"Harry thought he had an eyelash in his eye, I wanted to check." The two men spoke at the same time and looked at each other in shock and then at Niall who had a smug grin on his face, slowly nodding his head.

"Mhh, sure." Thankfully, that was all he said but Harry knew he would get an earful of that later.

"We should..." Harry cleared his throat. "We should get going, it's getting dark soon and we should get there in time." He stepped past Louis to his desk, opened the drawer and took out his dark brown holster, strapped it tightly around his waist and secured his gun, making sure the safety was on and everything's in place.

He felt two pairs of eyes on him and looked up. One still sporting a knowing smile and the other with his eyes lingering on Harry's hands on the holster.

"What are you waiting for?" He snapped and both other detectives hurried out the room and prepared themselves.

The drive to the Styles mansion was anything but peaceful.

Harry sat in the driver's seat, white-knuckling the steering wheel as he tried to ignore the absolute dickhead in the passenger seat. Niall, wisely sitting in the back, had been attempting to keep the peace, but Louis and Harry were made for conflict.

"I still don't see why you had to come," Harry muttered, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

"Because I was assigned to this case, by you," Louis shot back, crossing his arms. "And unlike you, I know how to actually solve one."

"Oh, fuck off," Harry snapped, jaw tightening. "You've been here for two seconds, and suddenly you're an expert?"

"I don't need to be here long to see how badly you've been handling this."

"Oh my god, can you both shut up for five minutes?" Niall groaned from the backseat. "We're literally going to investigate the disappearance of Harry's sister and you're arguing like schoolboys fighting over the last chicken nugget."

A heavy silence settled between them. Harry clenched his jaw, gripping the wheel harder. Louis huffed but didn't say anything else.

For now.

The mansion was eerily quiet when they arrived. The massive estate empty except for the faint echo of their footsteps as they walked inside.

"Alright," Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We split up. Check everything -bedrooms, the library, offices, even the fucking wine cellar if you have to."

"Ooh, wine cellar," Louis mused. "Now that's a place I'd like to get lost in."

"Louis," Harry warned.

"Fine, fine, searching now, drinking later," Louis smirked before disappearing down the hall.

Harry rolled his eyes before turning to Niall. "You take the east wing, I'll take the west wing."

"Got it," Niall nodded before heading off.

Harry took a deep breath and started his own search.

To say that Harry was nervous was an understatement. But maybe nervous was the wrong word. There was just this strange feeling deep in his stomach that he couldn't describe.

After all, he was about to search his parents' house, his childhood home. Without them knowing anything about it. A serious invasion of their privacy, a breach of trust. And Harry couldn't shake off that strange feeling.

But they were safe. His parents were far away in Paris, enjoying their time unaware of what happened at their home.

Harry took care of the large living and dining area, with the open kitchen and a small storage room. Every cupboard, every drawer, every space was turned upside down until he was sure that there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Niall was in the library, cursing himself for choosing exactly that room. Because, of course he had to search every damn book on the ridiculously massive shelf.

**

Louis

Louis moved swiftly through the halls, scanning each room with the practiced ease of someone who already knew exactly what he was looking for. The trick, of course, was making it look like he didn't.

He had to play dumb. Keep his mask on.

He knew everything about the Red Lily. But if he let even a fraction of that knowledge slip right now, Harry would tear him apart.

So he opened drawers, checked under beds, and made a show of investigating places he already knew wouldn't hold any answers.

But then-

In the corner of Desmond Styles' office, half-hidden behind a locked cabinet, Louis spotted something that made his stomach turn.

A lily.

Blood-red.

This was proof. A sign that the Red Lily had been here, operating right under Harry's nose. A sign that he was right.

And Harry had no fucking idea.

Louis exhaled sharply, forcing his features into indifference before stepping back into the hallway.

Harry was just exiting the office across from him, frustration evident in his face. "Find anything?"

Louis shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning against the doorframe lazily. "Nope. You?"

Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Nothing useful."

Louis just nodded. "Figures."

They still had so much searching to do.

And Louis had so much pretending left.

**

Two and a half hours later - after Harry and Louis had helped Niall in the library, the three were finished with the ground floor.

Nothing had caught their eyes. Officially.

Next they went upstairs, this is where Harry felt uncomfortable. Because this was also where Gemma's room was, the room of his sister who he hadn't seen in so long.

He knew, that as soon as he'll enter the room he would be overwhelmed with a flood of memories.

But here was also his father's office, his parents' bedroom, two guest rooms and of course his old room. All of them equipped with a small en-suite bathroom and walk in wardrobe.

Personal.

Everything was far too personal.

They started in the guest rooms, but there was nothing to be found there either. His parents' bedroom was also unsuccessful - or successful, depending on how you look at it.

Harry's room was simple, there was nothing there except a bed and an empty desk. That was it.

Now there were only two rooms left.

His father's office and his sister's room. The first one already being searched by Louis, but Harry didn't know.

Niall sensed Harry's mood shift and squeezed his forearm reassuringly.

He looked at him and the blond agent nodded positively. Louis stood slightly behind the two, arms crossed but aware of the situation and what it meant for Harry.

Niall stepped forward and opened the door.

Harry was immediately greeted by the familiar scent of his sister.

Even after all this time, it hadn't gone away.

Harry swallowed and followed Niall, and shortly afterwards Louis entered. Harry let his gaze wander and took it all in, it was as if she had never been away.

Nothing had changed.

His parents hadn't touched the room or entered it, it seemed. It was just like the day they noticed her disappearance. Without saying anything, Niall and Louis got to work, while Harry stood rooted to the spot in the middle of the room.

He looked as if in a trance as his colleagues turned the room upside down, but still made sure to leave everything as they had found it in the end.

After what felt like an eternity for the lead agent, Niall and Louis finally announced that they found nothing - again.

While Louis and Niall went into the office of Styles Sr., he stayed a moment longer in Gemma's room, took the picture of a very young version of his sister and an even younger version of himself from the desk and sank down onto her bed.

The hand that wasn't holding the picture gently ran over the duvet. He had to bite his tongue to keep the tears in.

A knock on the doorframe snapped him back to reality.

Niall only shook his head and Harry stood up. He placed the picture frame back on the desk and made his way out of the room.

Silently, he closed the door.

It was all for nothing. They could have saved themselves all that trouble, it was all to no avail anyway. Harry knew it beforehand. With his head down and his shoulders slumped, he followed the other two men down the hall towards the stairs.

"Wait a second. Stop." Louis' voice was heard and both, Niall and Harry stopped and looked to their colleague.

Louis bent down to the large plant that stood in the hallway. He reached into the pot and pulled something out. He slowly turned around and then the other two saw what he was holding between his fingers.

"What is that?" Harry took a step forward and let Louis place the small blossom in his open palm. Niall looked over Harry's shoulder.

"That's .. that's - isn't that from a lily?!" Niall asked and Louis nodded.

What're the chances that they found the blossom right now and here of all places? A hint that just came at the right time. Was that possible? And why - of all things - was the one who found said proof or clue or whatever exactly the one who first told them about the group called Red Lily?

While Niall and Louis still had their eyes on the flower, Harry let his own wander over the new detective. The one that seemed to came out of nowhere, with a suspiciously remarkable CV for his age and exactly the informations they needed.

Harry tried to read his face, his expression, the way his eyes changed, but it was blank. There was nothing. And even if that wasn't bad, it wasn't exactly good either, right?

"It is." The man of the hour spoke and stood up taller. "See, I knew I was on the right path. That has to say something." He announced and took the blossom out of his lead detectives palm again.

And that's when Harry scoffed. "Yeah, isn't it strange? What are the odds? My teams searched every little corner in all of the places and never found something and suddenly you come around and ta-dah, there it was." He pointed to the evidence in Louis' hand and waited for any of them to say anything.

"Harry? Don't get me wrong mate but you're acting unfair here." The blonde man said and his best friend looked at him unbelievingly.

"What? Niall, just open your eyes. You can't tell me that this whole situation isn't completely strange."

Now it was Louis time to scoff. "Are you for real right now? You should thank me actually but all you're doing is standing here and throw allegations around. Excuse me but I was told you were a brillant detective, the best of your age, smart and all but all I'm seeing is a stubborn prick." He spat at his boss and the latter heard Niall took in a sharp breath.

"That's it. You're out." Was all Harry said and walked past him, bumping into his shoulder and causing the other boy to slightly stumble backwards, seeing as he wasn't prepared for that. Harry stormed down the stairs and only a few seconds later they heard the front door slamming shut.

"I'm sorry." Niall said and patted Louis on the shoulder. "He's just so stressed you know, and I think being in Gemma's room triggered something. I'll talk some sense into him because he has to see that there's no way you're the bad guy here. Without you, we wouldn't have found this. And yes, even if we searched the whole house before - none of us knew what to look for." He finished his speech and followed Harry down the stairs and out the door.

Louis just stood there, the lily blossom still in his hand he exhaled a long breath.

He's fucked.

Chapter Text

The drive back from the Styles mansion was hell.

Harry had his hands clenched so tightly around the steering wheel that his knuckles were white. His jaw was set, his lips pressed into a thin, irritated line. Every fiber of his being hated Louis Tomlinson. Hated his attitude, his arrogance, his stupid smirks. Hated how he pretended to care about this case when in reality, Harry was certain he didn't give a shit.

And worst of all - hated how good Louis looked in the dim evening light filtering through the windshield.

"Would it kill you two to act like adults for five fucking minutes?" Niall groaned from the back seat, clearly exhausted. "I swear, you both have the emotional maturity of an actual brick wall."

"I am being mature," Louis said, completely unfazed. "It's not my fault curly over here can't handle working with someone who actually knows what he's doing."

Harry's grip on the wheel tightened. "Oh, fuck off."

"Make me," Louis shot back smoothly.

Niall rubbed his hands down his face. "I hate my life."

The tension was palpable, lingering like a storm cloud in the car.

Harry didn't want to ever work with Louis again. Not if he could help it.

Finally they made it to the station and Louis were out of the car in no time. Niall watched Harry intently while he gathered all his belongings and took off his seat belt.

Just as Harry had his hand at the handle, Niall spoke. "So nothing you want to say?"

"Don't think there's anything more to say. Think I've made myself very clear." And with that he actually was out the door, slamming it shut and leaving Niall dumbfounded behind.

**

Later that night, Harry sat alone on his couch, the soft glow of the TV flickering across his face. He wasn't even watching. Just thinking.

His life was a disaster. His sister was missing. His parents were miles away, out of touch. And now he was stuck working with the single most infuriating person on the planet.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table. He barely glanced at it before recognizing the name flashing across the screen.

Louis Tomlinson.

Harry frowned but answered anyway. "What do you want?" he said, voice flat.

"I called to talk," Louis replied, his voice sounding surprisingly... not smug for once. "Look, I know we started off on the wrong foot-"

"Oh, you think?"

"Christ, can you let me finish?" Louis huffed. "I was just gonna say I know you don't want to work with me, but I'm trying here. I don't want us to-"

"I don't care what you want," Harry cut in sharply. "We're not friends, we never will be, and after this case is closed, I never want to see your face again."

Silence.

Then, Louis sighed. "You're impossible, Styles."

"And you're annoying" Harry snapped. "Don't call me again."

And with that, he hung up.

**

The next morning, Harry woke up groggy, unsatisfied, and with a very inconvenient problem.

His head was pounding, but his body was... reacting in a way he absolutely did not want to acknowledge.

And the worst part?

The first thing that popped into his mind was Louis' stupid, piercing blue eyes.

"Oh, fuck no," Harry groaned, burying his face in his pillow. "I hate him. I hate him."

He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, frustrated beyond belief.

His covers were still warm and he pulled his duvet up to his chin as he tried to think of anything else than a certain detective. But there it was again. The pull between his legs, his dick still begging for attention. He tried everything, thinking about his parents, his neighbour's funeral, grandma, counting sheeps...

After a while he figured there was no much he could do, still being hard he turned on his back  and grabbed his hard dick to give his body what it wanted.

He closed his eyes when he tugged harshly a few times, letting his thumb stroke over the slit, collecting pre come and using it as lube.

Suddenly he was met with blue eyes. No. He stopped immediately and forced his thoughts elsewhere. Staring up at his ceiling he breathed a few more times, there's no way he'd get off to the thought of him.

But his brain seemed to betray him when it tortured him with more imagines.

"Oh fuck this." He threw the duvet off of him and sat up, his feet met the cold floor, a nice contrast to the hot feeling that still burned his insides.

Figuring that he wouldn't get back to sleep nor having a good wank he made his way to the kitchen and put the kettle on for some tea.

The lack of clothes actually helped with his situation, slight goosebumps already forming on his skin as the cold air surrounded his body.

While he waited for the water to boil he sat down and thought about what happened last night and he couldn't help but wonder if he actually had overreacted. Niall's words got to him and yes, he should be glad that they now have something to work with. Something to go on from and something to look for.

But he also couldn't help and shake off the strange feeling that Tomlinson gave him since he first stepped into his office. And him being the one to find an actual trace after what felt like forever didn't make it any easier for Harry.

The kettle made a small sound and Harry poured the hot water in his favorite light pink fruit mug. With his fresh tea he decided to spent some more time in bed as it was still fucking early for being a sunday morning. 

Back under the covers with his mug securely placed on the bedside table, he grabbed his phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media to distract himself. His thumb hovered over a notification before he realized.. 

He had somehow ended up on Louis' Instagram profile.

And worse?

He had accidentally followed him. "Shit, fuck. No." His phone seemed to work against him from then on, as he tried to take it back the screen went black and when he unlocked again he was at his home screen again.

In a rush he opened the search bar and typed the name in. And when he finally made it to Louis profile, his picture smiling at him as if to mock him, to his horror he saw a little red dot announcing a notification.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Harry muttered under his breath.

Then a message popped up.

@ louist91: Well, well, well. Didn't peg you for a secret fan, Styles.

Harry scowled but typed back.

@ harrystyles: It was an accident. Don't flatter yourself.

@ louist91: Sure it was. Just admit you like looking at me.

Harry clenched his jaw.

@ harrystyles: I'd rather scratch my own eyes out.

@ louist91: Kinky.

Harry let out an exasperated groan and threw his phone onto the bed.

What the fuck was his life?

He then made the decision to call Niall. He desperately needed to apologize to his best friend for his behaviour. Harry wanted to slap himself at the realisation that once again, Niall was also at the receiving end of his bad mood.

But just as he was about to call the button on Niall's contact in his phone, his doorbell rang. 

He furrowed his brows and stayed still, not exactly having a clue who that might be on a sunday morning without invitation. Cara normally would call, she never came without permission before. His parents still were in Paris, he didn't expect them back before midnight so he could rule that out as well. There's only one option left and that was Niall. Maybe he beat Harry to it and came to talk about. Or to yell at Harry, he deserved it.

He slowly got out off bed, putting on lose grey sweatpants and a plain white shirt. Sure, Niall had seen him butt naked more times than he could count but he figured clothes were appropriate for the conversation they're about to have.

Another ring  snapped him out of it and he hurried down the stairs. He stopped abruptly in front of the door, running a hand through his curls before swinging the door open - only to freeze.

Because standing there, looking infuriatingly smug, was Louis Tomlinson.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Harry gritted out. "What are you doing here?"

Louis shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. "Figured I'd come in person since you hung up on me last night."

"Take the hint, Louis. I don't want to talk to you."

"Too bad," Louis said breezily, stepping inside like he owned the place. "Because I'm not leaving until we sort this out."

Harry groaned, rubbing his temples. "Why do you care so much?"

Louis' smirk faltered for half a second, something unreadable flickering in his eyes before it was gone. "Because, Styles, whether you like it or not, we're stuck together. And if you keep fighting me at every turn, we'll never find your sister."

Harry clenched his jaw. He hated that Louis was right.

"Okay, at this point it's just embarrassing. Can I please come in? I only want to talk." There was something in his voice, a serious undertone to his earlier sassy one, that snapped Harry out of it and let him step to the side, making room for Louis to went past him into his house.

"Please take off your shoes. I'll make some tea, or coffee?" Harry asked emotionless and turned around without another look, making his way into his kitchen to prepare the kettle and the coffee machine. 

"Coffee would be great. Thanks." Louis followed him and awkwardly stood in the doorway, waiting for any instructions not wanting to cross any more boundaries. 

"You can sit down." Harry waved his hand at one of the bar stools at his counter and Louis slid in one of them. 

When the smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen, Harry took two cups out of one of his cupboards and filled them with the steaming black liquid.

"How do you ..."

"Black, please." The older man replied before he was even able to ask. Wordlessly he prepared the two cups and finally sat down opposite Louis.

He shoved the hot drink over to him and that was the first time their eyes met.

"I'm all ears." He said and watched Louis take a deep breath in.

Here goes nothing.

Chapter Text

The atmosphere in Harry's kitchen was suffocating. The air was thick, heavy with unspoken words, unacknowledged tension, and the overwhelming scent of fresh coffee. The two steaming mugs sat on the countertop between them, untouched.

Harry leaned back against the counter, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his green eyes locked on Louis with barely concealed irritation. Louis, on the other hand, sat casually on one of the barstools, fingers curled around the ceramic of his mug, pretending to be at ease. But his eyes-sharp and calculating-were trained on Harry, taking in every flicker of emotion on his face.

They were both waiting for the other to break first.

Louis sighed, finally breaking the silence. "Are you ever gonna stop looking at me like you wanna throw me out the fucking window?"

Harry let out a humorless chuckle. "Not likely."

"Right. Because you hate me" Louis said, rolling his eyes. "I still don't get why, though. What the fuck is your problem with me?"

Harry scoffed, shaking his head. "Are you actually asking me that?" He pushed off the counter and stepped closer, his expression twisting in disbelief. "You waltzed in here, got handed a case I've been breaking my back over, and now I'm supposed to trust you? Like hell, Louis."

"That's the job, mate," Louis shot back, mirroring Harry's stance. "It's called teamwork. Look it up sometime."

"That's rich, coming from you. You act like you know everything-"

"Because I do," Louis cut him off smugly. "I actually get shit done instead of throwing tantrums like a spoiled little princess."

Harry's hands clenched into fists. "Oh, fuck you. You don't know a damn thing about me."

"I know enough," Louis drawled, tilting his head slightly. "You're arrogant. Reckless. Emotional as hell. You think you're the only one who actually gives a shit about this case, but news flash, Styles- you're not special."

Harry's jaw tightened. "And you're an insufferable, cocky bastard who thinks he's better than everyone." There was something in Louis eyes, something that looked very much like a flash of hurt and Harry didn't want to dwell on it.

"Maybe because I am," Louis smirked, recovering from whatever that was, leaning in slightly. "I've been doing this longer than you. I've solved more cases than you. I could run circles around you, and deep down, that kills you, doesn't it?"

Harry exhaled sharply through his nose, nostrils flaring. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"Oh, I think I do," Louis murmured, his voice almost teasing now. "You hate that I'm here because you're used to being the smartest person in the room. You hate that I see through all your bullshit. But most of all-" He stepped even closer, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "-you hate that you're attracted to me."

Harry stilled.

His breath caught in his throat.

And suddenly, the kitchen felt a whole lot smaller.

Louis was too close. Close enough that Harry could see the way his pupils had darkened slightly,  the way his brows furrowed, how his tongue came out for a second to wet his lips before pulling in his bottom lip to chew on it, close enough that he could smell the faint traces of whatever aftershave he wore. Close enough that Harry's own body betrayed him before he could think to stop it.

And Harry couldn't help but focuse on these details, on all of the little things that were Louis Tomlinson. And he was kind of beautiful he had to admit although reluctantly. He was just a young boy, just like Harry himself. Forced to be someone completely different due to his job. And suddenly he felt bad.

"I'm sorry?" The words came out of Harry's mouth without his permission and the moment they reached Louis ears he narrowed his eyes and wished he didn't say anything.

Louis looked at him dumbfounded. "Oh, you are? And was that a statement or a question?" He still stood his ground so near to Harry. 

Harry's heart was racing but he didn't dare raise his head, too afraid of what he would see.

"Is it because you're just an arrogant son of a bitch .... or do you feel threatened by my presence, mhh?"

Harry stopped breathing altogether when he felt Louis finger slowly sliding up his abdomen.

"See, I can hear your heart beating like a jackhammer in your chest." Two little taps on his chest right were his heart was located before he let his finger wander further up.

"Your breathing is fast." He flattened his hand right between his collarbones and the younger man felt the urge to grab his hand and slam him against the wall but his body betrayed him so he just stood there, doing nothing.

"Your pupils are dilated." His hand remained where it was when their eyes met. A shiver ran down Harry's spine.

"Ah, and not to forget..." torturously slow Louis dragged his finger up to Harry's neck. "Those small hairs on your neck, staying up, covered in just a thin layer of sweat." And Harry felt Louis' finger burning on his skin, unable to do something, to react.

Completely paralysed just by one single touch and blue, oh so fucking blue eyes.

His senses were heightened, his whole body is alarmed but unable to move.

"And I'm pretty sure you know exactly why your body is reacting like that, there's only two options. So different but with the same energy. So tell me, Harry..." He smirked. "Are you scared of me or are you attracted to me?" And finally he was able to react and snapped out of it. With one quick move he grabbed Louis hand, turned him around and took two long steps forward.

He had Tomlinson now pressed against the fridge door. He secured his arm behind his back and his cheek squished against the cool surface. 

"You're so sure of yourself huh?" He whispered in Louis ear with his gaze on his skin, a small grin appeared on his face when he saw the tiniest goosebumps erupt over the older man's arms and neck.

Louis chuckled.

"I'm very sorry to disappoint you though. Let me tell you, neither am I scared nor turned on."

"Well, then please explain this to me." Louis retorted and Harry furrowed his brows. He got his answer when the other man pressed his ass back and - much to Harry's dismay, right on his erection.

Where did that even come from? Fucking traitorous body part.

Harry couldn't help but groan at the contact and involuntary loosened his grip. Of course Louis used that to his advantage and turned them around.

"I've waited a long time for a situation like this and now I'm able to say it. So, either you've got your gun in your pants or you're really excited to see me." Louis said in a fake seductive voice and Harry snorted annoyed of both, Louis behaviour and the betrayal of his own body.

But when Louis moved his legs, was when he felt it. And well, that's not what he'd expected. And suddenly everything felt hot and too much, too tight and too overwhelming. Because with Louis' own hard dick now pressing against his thigh he couldn't stand it anymore.

They held eye contact, tension simmering over them, both just about to break but neither wanted to be the first.

"Fuck you." Harry spat through gritted teeth and grabbed Louis upper arms, and oh, he was impressed how firm they were.

"Please do." Louis retorted smugly and pressed himself further against his partner, the friction against his hard dick caused a moan to escape his lips and Harry's mouth slightly opened.

They just stood there, in Harry's kitchen, pressed against each other, incredibly turned on and Harry was about to break, he was about to just say fuck off and give in.

But Louis beat him to it and suddenly warm lips were on his own, for a second he was too stunned to react. The feeling of the other man's lips against his own were too much to handle. So he just stood there, not kissing back.

And before he was able to even think of kissing back, the moment was over way to soon, as Louis pulled back and looked - 

"Well - that was embarrassing." He mumbled and was about to turn away when Harry finally snapped out of his trance and grabbed the brunette by the back of his head only to slam his lips against Louis' once more - only to kiss him for real this time.

They started out slowly, dry lips just moving against each other, cautiously getting to know each other.

Louis brought his right hand up to Harry's head and buried his fingers in his curls. A small tug at the roots elicited a low groan from Harry and he involuntarily opened his mouth.

Louis took that as an invitation and let his tongue ran over Harry's bottom lip. Their tongues met, sending a shock wave straight to Harry's cock when he felt Louis shiver under his touch.

And when it was all exploring and reserved at first, it was now a messy fight of tongues and gentle lip biting. Harry let his hands wander down Louis body, tracing his spine with his index finger until he reached the small of his back, right were his lower back met his ass.

"This okay?" He breathed between kisses and Louis only nodded.

Both his hands grabbed Louis ass and he pulled him further against himself. It was the perfect size and shape and Harry couldn't even remember when he had something this perfect in his hands. Just the right amount of firm and soft.

"Like that." Louis said breathlessly before going in for another kiss.

Never once had Harry experienced a first kiss like that. Were all kisses supposed to feel like this? Was he supposed to feel like this?

No, he wasn't, was he? That's absolutely unacceptable. What was he thinking.

He pushed Louis away from him and stared at his shocked expression. With a hand over his mouth he turned away.

"You should go." Was all he said, without turning around again.

"Are you serious?" The other man scoffed. There was silence, that kind of silence where you're afraid of breathing in case you'd cause some serious damage. But when there's nothing for a few more minutes he finally heard a shuffling sound followed by footsteps.

With his courage back he turned around only to find the kitchen empty as he'd expected. Still he couldn't help himself and let his feet follow the noise.

Louis was at the front door, lacing his shoes with an unreadable expression on his face, something between anger and frustration. There was a funny feeling in Harry's stomach but he forced it down for the sake of his own sanity.

This was wrong. He crossed a line he wasn't supposed to overstep.

Being caught in his own head he watched as Louis opened the door, with a last look at him, a silent plead, he waited for Harry to do something.

Harry did nothing but let Louis go.

When the door fell into the lock Harry took two, three, four big steps forward and grabbed the handle. He closed his eyes and let his forehead hit the wooden surface.

He didn't open the door.

He didn't ran after Louis.

Instead he just stood there, bringing his fingers up to his lips that still tingled from the kiss.

Chapter Text

A knock at his office door startled him. Annoyed, he looked up from the work on his desk. He groaned at the disruption, there was a reason why he told Maggie to let nobody in. And still there was someone at the door bothering him. And this someone didn't even wait for him to say something instead just opened the door.

And Harry was surprised.

"Dad?"

"Hello son." His father said and closed the door behind him. Harry put his pen down and sat up straighter in his chair. He didn't expected a visit from him. He was sure his dad was taking a break, away from all the trouble but here he was. Right in his office at the station.

Harry furrowed his brows as he watched his father taking the chair opposite him, adjusting after he took an envelope out of his breast pocket of his jacket.

He laid the brown envelope down on the desk and pushed it towards Harry who took it with hesitation, unsure of what to expect.

"Well, have a look at it. I bet you're dying to know what it is. I for sure was very surprised." His father said nonchalantly with this intimidating cop voice that Harry hated since he was a small child.

He opened the envelope and froze. There were pictures. His hand stilled and he didn't move.

"Is there something wrong?" Desmond asked and looked intently at Harry, a small smile playing at his lips.

"What is that?" Harry took them out of the envelope and sorted them in front of him. With every single photograph his stomach was dropping more and more. He knew exactly what this was.

"Well I hope you could tell me, Harry. Tell me - what exactly were you doing at my house when your mother and I were in Paris?" The temperature in the room dropped from how cold his father's face and body language were.

The young man looked at the pictures again, there was no point in denying anything. You could clearly see what was going on. There was a shot of Niall, Louis and Harry in every room of his parent's house, searching through drawers, looking under mattresses and every space available.

"I can -" Harry tried to say something and save the situation or more importantly to save him - them. But his father interrupted him.

"Not only did you betray your parent's trust but also mine as your boss. And there will be consequences. You're no longer in charge here. I can't trust you anymore. You're status as head in this case will be revoked. Detective Tomlinson will take over instead." Harry's ears were ringing as he just stared at his father with an open mouth. Clearly he must've heard that incorrect.

"I will no longer tolerate these solo actions."

"But it was the first -"

"Stop it! I wasn't ready and I didn't give you permission to speak." Harry felt his fingernails pressing little moon shaped prints into his palm and he clenched his teeth so hard he swore he heard his jaw crack.

"Every move and every single activity must be approved by me. Tomlinson agreed. Are we clear?" Desmond asked sternly and even if Harry knew there was no point in disagreeing, he couldn't help himself.

"It was Tomlinson's plan!" He tried to defend himself, not really thinking straight anymore.

"Oh I know that, and the plan was good. And we even get a hint didn't we? That's one step closer to solving this case." He said in a unnerving calm voice and Harry scoffed.

"This case? You mean the one where your own daughter is missing? Well seems like this really affects you." He rolled his eyes and stood up. Turning around to face the window. Outside there were dark clouds hanging over the streets, resembling Harry's mood and he nearly laughed at that. Even the weather was against him.

"Don't you dare and speak to me like that! You did enough to disappoint me! Everything is said now. If you have further question, go look for Tomlinson. You will only speak to him regarding this case and you will not come to me directly. He will consult me." With that he stood up and clapped his hands together. Then he looked pointedly at Harry's desk, he took another step forward and in one swift motion he threw the things on Harry's deck on the ground. "And go clean up this mess, I taught you better. Papers everywhere." He turned around and left the office without another word a look back.

He left Harry standing there completely speechless, stunned and hurt. His father always was a role model for him, when he was little he wanted to be like him. And he worked so hard to become as good as him. To follow his steps and make him proud. But over the years Harry learned that there's only so much he can do. And it always seemed that he just wasn't enough. Even if he didn't want to admit it. But he was never good enough, never strong enough, never smart enough.

And it took him years to accept that. Only for it to be destroyed in a single conversation.

"FUCK." He yelled and punched the mahogany surface. He sat back down in his chair and buried his head in his hands, his elbowed leaned on the desk. He tried so hard to fight the tears burning in his eyes, he swallowed it all.

With shaking hands he made his way over to his cabinet and pulled out a glass and his favourite bottle of scotch. He poured the liquid to the brim and immediately downed it. With the first drop in his system he kind of relaxed so he was quick to refill the glass. And after the second glass he just took the bottle and brought it up to his lips.

He felt it in his head, this warm fuzzy feeling, light and somewhat easier. Worries far away and not in his reach. Content. But not happy.

Another knock on his door startled him and he quickly collected himself. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and filled the glass up again. He cleared his throat and sat back down at his desk.

Just before he was about to let the person in he remembered all of his papers on the floor and gathered them all in his hands as good as he could.

"Yeah." He said with a steady and loud voice and shortly after the door opened.

"Oh of course. Exactly the person I wanted to see now." He mumbled under his breath when he saw none other than Louis at the door.

Harry could see that he looked beaten down, something Harry didn't expect if he was honest. He watched him enter his office, cautiously making his way over to the desk where he hesitated a moment, his hand on the backrest of the chair.

"Can I?" His voice came out small. Not at all what Harry thought it would be like.

He expected the new detective to stroll into his office with his head held high and satisfaction all over his face now that he had the job he probably wanted all along - Harry's job.

Instead he looked like a lost puppy.

"Take a seat." Harry said and Louis did as he was told. He folded his hands in his lap and still haven't looked at Harry.

Gone was his extrovert attitude, him sitting straight with his legs spread wide and a self confident expression. Instead he looked like a little boy, lost and scared at his first day at school without friends and someone to talk to.

He looked so much younger and Harry couldn't help but stare. His eyes wandering all over Louis' features, his beautiful face, his slim but admirable lips, cheekbones to kneel down for and eyes so blue.

He could use some comparisons now. Blue like the ocean blah, blue like the sky on a summerday blah blah or blue like a sapphire sparkling in the sun, ugh. But they're just blue like Louis.

Or maybe it's just the alcohol in his veins. He shook his head.

"Congratulations, detective." Harry was the first one to speak, hypocrisy evident in his voice but he couldn't stop it.

Louis' head shot up and he looked him straight in the eyes. There was a deep crease between his eyebrows. One that wasn't there before or on a regular basis. Not that Harry had noticed though.

"I didn't want that!" He snapped. "I didn't ask for this and I for sure didn't come here with the intention of getting your position!" There he was, Harry thought. That was the Louis he got to know. The Louis that stood up for himself. But at the same time it wasn't the Louis he knew at all.

"Sure." Harry snickered unbelievably, taking another sip from his drink. "You want one?" He motioned to the glass and looked at questioningly at the man in front of him.

"No. And you shouldn't have one either." He replied and oh. Harry laughed, loud. The sound echoed from the walls.

"Just because your my boss now doesn't mean you have to right to make comments about my personal life or decisions." The man with the curly hair huffed and emptied his glass.

"Sure. Got that. But H, please -"

"Don't call me that! You have no right to call me that!" He was fuming now, so angry. Of his dad, of Louis, of himself. He just wanted to destroy something, to numb the pain, to forget everything.

But he didn't want to talk to Louis. Not today, not now. Not when he needed time to process everything for himself. He had to talk to Niall first. Where was he? Did he already know? Had he betrayed him? Would he now lose his best friend too?

But what he needed more than anything else right now was.. revenge?

"Harry, please. Let me explain." Louis tried again but Harry only raised his hand to stop him from going further.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and searched through his contact list. When he finally found the contact he looked for he clicked the call button and waited for the line to connect.

All while looking Louis straight in the eyes. There was a click and the monotone noise stopped, instead there was a light "hello?" From the other side and Harry grinned. Here we go.

"Cara! Hi, sorry to bother you but are you free tonight?" He asked and watched as Louis face changed to confusion.

That's right, listen closely, Tomlinson. Harry thought.

"Great. Do you wanna come to mine? I really miss you." Harry said in the sweetest voice he could muster but it felt sour on his tongue.

Louis face dropped. Ha!

"Sure baby. I just wanna feel you. Press you up against the wall and kiss you." He began and saw the other man took a sharp breath in. Harry knew exactly what he was doing and he lived for it.

"Hmm, push you into my mattress, with my head between your legs." He waited for Cara's answer. And Louis' reaction. The man now gripping the armrest of his chair violently, knuckles turning white.

"And then fuck you until you scream my name. As I did so many times before. You'd love that right? You love my cock, don't you?" He smirked and that's when Louis lost it. Harry watched as he stood up with such force that the chair doubled over an landed on the ground with a loud thud.

He stormed out of the office and slammed the door shut behind him without looking back.

Harry grinned.

Until he didn't anymore.

He heard Cara's excited babbling on the phone but his mind was somewhere else.

Why didn't he feel good?

Chapter Text

"Babe? Hey babe? Harry?"

The air smelled faintly of perfume, warm skin, and regret. Harry laid in his bed, his head tilted back against the pillows, his body still, unmoving. Cara was between his legs. 

But he wasn't there.

Not really.

His mind was a prison, and tonight, the walls were closing in fast.

His father's words burned like acid in his brain. The disappointment. The rejection. The way he had looked at Harry like he was nothing.

And Louis had been there for all of it. Had witnessed it. Had taken what should have been Harry's and made it his own.

And now Harry was here, lying in bed with a woman who deserved better than being someone's failed distraction.

Cara sighed, her movements slowing before she finally stilled against him. "You're not here," She muttered, her voice laced with frustration.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Cara asked again. 

"Hm?" His voice came out hoarse and he had a hard time getting his head straight.

"You - I can't get it up." She whispered the last words and Harry had thought he hadn't fully understood it until he took a closer look.

Harry shut his eyes. "I know."

"Then what the fuck am I doing here?"

She sat up, pulling the sheets around her. He felt the bed shift as she moved, but he didn't open his eyes. He didn't have an answer for her.

Because what could he say?

That he needed something to make him feel in control again? That he thought maybe she could help him forget the way his father humiliated him? That he needed to silence the thoughts screaming in his head?

And most of all, that he needed to erase Louis from his mind?

No.

He couldn't say any of that.

"Fuck. I'm sorry. It's probably the alcohol and the stress." Was what he said instead and pulled the blanket over his bottom half while Cara looked at him with a shocked expression and a hint of hurt.

"I should go," Cara said after a moment, her voice softer now, less irritated.

He nodded. "Yeah."

She moved around the room, collecting her clothes in silence, and for the first time in a long time, Harry felt ashamed. Cara wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what this was, what she was to him. And now, she was done playing along.

He finally forced his eyes open, watching as she zipped up her jeans, grabbed her bag, and made her way to the door.

And then she was gone.

The door clicked shut, leaving Harry alone in the dark.

And he knew he should've run after her, call after her and apologise and talk through what just happened.

She was his friend and kind of lover after all. But he did nothing. Instead he just sat on his bed and stared at his fingernails where he picked at his cuticles until he draw blood.

He let his gaze wander through his room, his eyes landing on a few pictures on the wall. One in particular. And he narrowed his eyes at the boy in the picture. His smile so bright it could outshine the sun. His eyes sparkling with pride and excitement, ready for a whole new life. A badge in his hand, held directly in the camera, glistening in the sunlight.

Now the boys eyes were just dull, circled by dark shadows. Long gone was the excitement, no trace of pride anymore. Instead there was this empty feeling, this feeling of failure. The feeling of chasing a dream you could never catch.

The same badge, still there but without the sparkle. Worn and dull just like his eyes.

He took his phone and with all his strength, he threw it at the wall and against the picture. There was a loud shattering sound, the phone landing on the floor, the screen of his phone cracked just like the glass of the picture frame.

But the boy.. the boy was still smiling. 

The weight in his chest grew heavier.

He was so tired of feeling like this - like he was constantly failing, constantly disappointing, constantly chasing after something that was just out of reach.

And worst of all...

He couldn't stop thinking about him.

**

Niall

"What do you mean he kicked you out?" He was surprised to get a call from Cara. She was sobbing and he barely understood a word she said.

"He - he couldn't get it up. And then he - I don't know what I did wrong - he was drunk but he was drunk before and still able to fuck me - but he - he and then I said I should go and he said nothing - and it was just so embarrassing like - Niall please you have to go look for him."

That was not the call he'd expected after he learned about the news today. To say he was shocked was an understatement. He would've never thought that Desmond would go as far as demote him. His own son. A great detective.

And now Tomlinson was their new boss in this case. Not that he had anything against the new man. The opposite actually, something in his gut feeling told him that he's a good guy from the beginning. So yes, he's not going to go against it. But - Harry always was his priority and he has to be there for his best friend and help him see something worth living for again.

But, to be honest, Niall was even a little bit relieved that Harry no longer has to carry all the weight of the case alone anymore. If you'd asked him, it was a burden he should not have taken, but Harry was stubborn, as always. And of course he only wanted the best for his sister.

"Niall?"

"Yes. I'm still here, sorry. Thank you for calling me I'll go and check on him." He assured the upset woman on the line, feeling bad for her.

"And Cara?" A little sniffle was heard on the other side until there was a small "yes" that was more like a choked sob than anything else.

"He'll come around. He loves you, you know that, right? You're his best friend." Niall said and apparently that wasn't the right thing to say.

Because there was a louder sob now followed by sad chuckle.

"Yeah. Unfortunately not in the same way as I love him... goodbye Niall, thank you." And with that she hung up.

Niall's eyes widened with the phone still pressed to his ear. After a short moment he closed them and sighed. Of course, he should've known.

After a short drive to Harry's he found himself at his door, knocking and ringing repeatedly without any reaction. Not that he'd expected any different but he really is tired of using his spare key to find his best mate in terrible conditions instead of using it to surprise him with a six pack on a Saturday night.

He grabbed the key and opened the door.

"Harry. It's Niall. I'm coming in now." He knew that Harry probably was too drunk to hear him anyway but it's only polite isn't it.

But when he stepped into the house he gasped at the scene in front of him. The sun barely peeked through the curtains, casting a soft, muted glow over the disaster that was Harry's living room. The coffee table was overturned, empty whiskey bottles were scattered across the floor, and shattered glass sparkled like tiny diamonds in the dim light. The air smelled of stale alcohol, sweat, and frustration.

He made his way down the hall to Harry's room, hyper aware of his surroundings.

"Harry?" He called again but nothing came in response. His brain already made up the worst scenarios and he wasn't prepared to find the man he considered a brother lying lifeless in his own body fluids.

That was something he'd never want to witness.

When he finally reached the door after what felt like the fucking journey to Mordor he hesitated for a moment, handle cold in his hand.

"If you're dead I'm going to kill you, H. I swear to god." He murmured to himself and with a deep breath, he opened the door.

His gaze wandered through the room, not exactly surprised to find it in a similar state than the rest of the house he'd seen so far.

But a weight as big as a fucking mountain was lifted from his shoulders when he saw Harry sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands with his elbows leaned on his knees. Obviously breathing and very much alive.

"You fucking asshole. What happened in here?" It wasn't the thing he had planned to say to him when he finally got to him but he was just so angry and relieved at the same time that his mouth acted without his permission.

Slowly Harry lifted his head, eyes bloodshot and puffy, framed by even darker circles than before, his face pale, the only color were the red stains from the tears that probably were falling down for hours now. Lips red and bitten raw, his upper lip shining with the snot that had collected there. Hair messy from repeatedly running a hand through it and pulling at the strands as it seemed.

And Niall's heart broke for him. And he swore he'd never seen him like that. And that had to say something because he'd seen him in wide range of fucked up states.

"Oh love." In two big steps he was right in front of him and dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around Harry's shoulders.

The younger man immediately broke down and laid all his weight on him. Niall didn't mind though.

"I - I d-don't know - w -what t-to do anymore." He sobbed between words barely able to form a coherent sentence, too devastated, too exhausted and of course, too drunk to do so.

Niall just held his best friend closer and brought one hand up to his head where he cradled the back of it in his hand and massaged his scalp in a soothing manner.

When the sobbing and shaking didn't get better Niall manoeuvred both of them onto Harry's bed, he wrapped the blanket around them and tried to swaddle him like a baby to help him calm down.

He also tried to put as much weight on him as possible without hurting him to try and keep him grounded, he was sure that he once read something like that might help.

The curly haired man still shook in his arms, his breathing now came out ragged and uneven, and Niall knew he was at the edge of hyperventilating.

"Harry, I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me, love?" He laid his hands on each side of Harry's face and made him look at him. He was met with pure horror and fear and he had a hard time swallowing his own emotions to be there for his best friend as best as he could.

The blonde man took Harry's hand and laid it on his chest, then he brought it back up to where it was before on Harry's face.

"Can you feel that? Breathe with me Harry." He tried to focus on his own breathing, in .. and out 

That didn't seem to do it and he was on the edge of a panic attack himself. His body reacted without his mind being involved and he lifted a hand and before he could stop himself he slapped Harry in the face.

And yes, finally. Harrys eyes went wide and he took a sharp breath in.

"There you are. You with me now?" He tried again, hoping to get an answer now. He wasn't lucky enough to get actual words as response but at least he made out a small nod and noticed a change in Harry's breathing. "Good. I'm sorry but I had no choice." He apologised and again, Harry nodded carefully.

"It's okay, you're safe with me. Just breathe. You'll be alright." Niall repeated the words like a prayer in a soothing voice and felt Harry relax in his arms. Slowly, the shaking began to subside, his breathing slowly getting calmer and all in all he appeared more normal- or maybe it was all exhaustion.

"You can talk to me -you know? You don't have to do it alone and you don't have to drown your feelings in alcohol when I'm only one call away." The blonde man began and rubbed circles on his friend's back. He felt Harry cuddle more into him.

"I'm always there for you, Harry. Always was and always will be. So please stop shutting me out. I was there in the past and I want to be there in the future - but Harry -" His voice broke and he needed a second to be able to speak again.

"If you keep on doing that to yourself I fear that there's no future for us." The last words came out as whisper and he felt tears pricking in the corner of his eyes. He was just so scared, so scared for his friend, and so worried and above all .. so helpless.

"Please just give me something. Give me something to work with, Harry. Something to go on from. Don't bottle up your feelings. Let them out. You know you can lay them on me. Don't you know that I am right here? I'm here and I'm willing to help and I beg you to talk to me." He saw something flash in Harry's eyes and continued.

"Shout at me, tell me how much you hate everything, anyone - how much you hate the situation - Christ just tell me how much you hate Tomlinson for all I care. Just give me something."

And he felt Harry froze in his arms. He waited. A heartbeat. Two.

"Idonthatehim." The first words from Harry sounded like a different language to Niall.

"Come again?" Niall wiped a tear from Harry's cheek, aware of the fact that the younger boy's heart rate was picking up.

"I like him. And I hate myself for it."

Chapter Text

Harry had no idea how long he stood under the hot water, just letting the stream pour down on him, with his head tilted up, prickling the skin of his face. Dropping his head, he let the water fall on the back of his head and neck, water droplets running down his face, getting caught in his lashes and dripping down the tip of his nose.

At one point the whole bathroom was filled with a strong but nice scent of his strawberry scented shampoo and a hint of his cherry body wash. He breathed in the sweet aroma and looked down, watching as the water washed the soap down the drain taking some of his pain with it.

"You feeling better?" Niall asked him when he emerged from the bathroom, his hair wrapped in a towel while he tied the rope of his fluffy bathrobe.

Harry  plummeted down next to Niall on the couch. "Much."

"Here," Niall shoved a cold water bottle into his hands. "You still look like death warmed up."

Harry unscrewed the cap and took a few gulps, letting the cool liquid soothe his dry throat. He was grateful for his best friend. He didn't pressure him into anything, he just were there with him, in his bed, held him for hours while Harry cried what possibly was all of the tears he had in his body.

"So," Niall started. "Wanna tell me what the fuck happened?"

"It's my Dad, it's Louis, it's the case, it's fucking everything," Harry finally admitted, his voice rough. "I feel like I'm losing my grip. I hate this. I hate feeling like I have no control over anything."

"You're not losing your grip, Haz. You're overwhelmed. And honestly? It's understandable. But wrecking your house isn't gonna fix anything, is it?"

Harry shook his head, taking another sip of water. "No."

There was a moment of silence between them.

"You shouldn't have cleaned up my mess." Harry gestured to his livingroom. It looked much like before his outburst. Only a few missing picture frames hinted at the chaos that it was before. 

"Figured I had to pass some time while you were in the shower and I thought "hey why not being helpful for once?"" He snickered and Harry looked at him with furrowed brows.

"You - that was a joke right? Niall you're being helpful all the time. You're always there to pick up the pieces after my outbursts and I hope you know that I really appreciate that and I love you for it and you - you don't have to do that and above anything else you don't have to clean up my mess." Harry turned to him and looked him in the eyes. Because he meant every single word.

He knew that he was being a shit friend with his behaviour and he knew that he should've never let it get that far. Niall was his friend and not his babysitter and he had to endure too much in the last few months.

Harry didn't take if for granted, never did. But now he's not sure if he ever thanked him enough or if he ever showed him how grateful he was for being there every step of his way down.

But more than ever, Harry knew that things couldn't go on like this. And that he could no longer expect Niall and the people around him to put up with his shit.

Something had to change - immediately. And he knew that.

He was the only one responsible for things being the way they are now. Not his father, not his sister's disappearance and certainly not a brunette stranger that appeared in his life out of nowhere.

"I know that but I figured we'd have more time to talk when you don't have worry about cleaning up." The blonde man shrugged with a smile and Harry wanted to hug him even more.

"I'm sorry for the asshole I was for the past couple months." He took a deep breath in and decided to just let it all out. There was no point in doing otherwise so there was that.

He was about to continue when Niall lifted a finger to stop him.

"Before you start. Tell me, why now? I've tried to talk to you countless times - what changed?" His voice was so calm that Harry knew he made the right decision. He knew he's safe with Niall, and he wanted to let him see that.

"Uh, today - I think I finally saw how much I've hurt you- all of you. I heard you outside my door, I heard the angst in your voice and when you came into my room and I looked at you - I saw it so clearly that I wanted to punch myself for putting you through that." He picked at his cuticles, a habit he cant get rid off and waited for Niall to say something but when the other man stayed silent he continued.

"And Cara - oh god, Niall. I've treated her so badly. That's not who I am - you and I, we both know that. But it wasn't - I - I just couldn't think clearly and I was so furious I wanted to hurt him and I used her to do so. And now she hates me because I - Niall I promised to never hurt her and to always protect her. I threatened dozens of men and cursed her exes to the moon and back and now look at me. I used her." A choked sob came out of his mouth, disgusted by his own actions. 

He felt Niall's hand on his, taking it and lacing their fingers together. Stopping Harry from nervously pulling at his nails. A small smile and a nod, reassuring Harry to go on.

"I nearly had sex with her to take revenge on someone for something I can't even explain." He huffed at his own stupidity. How could he get to this point in life.

As detective he kind of always had to put up this cold demeanour. 

But in his private life, he was the opposite. He was this kind and loving guy, always protective of his family and friends, funny and positively silly.

And happy.

He was happy once.

"And then there's Tomlinson... Louis. There's Louis. I - we kissed Niall. We kissed and I panicked and I kicked him out and I - he wanted to talk I think. He came to me after my Dad told me about him being the new leader. And I was so angry - so so angry. And he came, and he was the reason for my anger - at least I thought so in that moment. So I lashed out at him. I didn't let him talk, I assumed that getting my job was what he'd planned from the beginning. And the only thing that came to my mind was hurting him on a different level. But I hurt two more people in the process. And I -" he stopped and tried to blink the tears away, he was sick of crying.

"I'm just so sorry Niall. I'm so sorry."

Niall took him in his arms and let him cry - again.

"Ssssh." He shushed and rubbed his back soothingly. "I'm proud of you." The words only made Harry sob more.

"But I can't believe it took all of this for you to tell me about the kiss." And that made both of them break out in laughter. Harry chuckled through his tears a weird sound escaping his lips and he pulled back to wipe the tears and snot away.

"That's all you've got from this?" Harry chuckled and dabbed at his eyes with a tissue from the box on the coffee table. He knew that this wasn't the truth but he loved his best friend even more for trying to bring a smile on his face even in the saddest moments.

"No of course not. Thank you for trusting and telling me. I forgive you, obviously. Well, I wasn't exactly mad to begin with," He chuckled. "But you have to talk to Cara and Louis too. Tell them everything you've told me too. They'll understand, I'm sure of it." Harry nodded even if it's making him nervous. Talking to Niall is one thing, talking to Cara might turn out okay too, but Louis - he knew the man only for a few weeks.

How was he supposed to talk to him and what was he supposed to say.

"I don't know, Niall. I mean, I know I have to talk to them but I don't know how and what to say." 

"As is said. Just tell them what you've told me. But Harry. Let me tell you something. I know it isn't my place to tell and I won't tell you everything but - please be gentle with Cara. There is something you don't know." With the way Niall was looking, Harry knew exactly what it was, that he wanted to say. So had to prepare for that also.

"And for Louis. Mate, it's Louis. I know him as long as you do but from what I've seen he's pretty chill so just go for it. I bet your charm will be helpful." He winked and nudged his former lead detective with his shoulder.

For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of the conversation hanging between them.

"Just take it slow, mate," Niall said after a moment. "You don't have to figure it all out right now. Just... don't push it away completely."

They spent their time like that for a few more hours, lounging on the couch and talking about everything and nothing at all. Until Harry fell asleep in Niall's arms and the older man carried him to his bed. 

He took off his bathrobe and was glad to found briefs on him. He knew Harry preferred to sleep naked but that's just a boundary Niall won't overstep. He wrapped him in his blanket, plugged his phone in, checked for a full water bottle and placed a few painkillers on the nightstand just in case.

When Niall was sure that Harry was taken care of, he went to the guest bathroom where he knew were some spare utensils and clothes. He got himself ready for bed and sneaking back into Harry's room once he was ready.

He laid down next to his best friend.

Not daring to leave him alone this night. What he didn't know was that Harry was awake since the moment Niall carried him to his bed.

A small, grateful smile grew on Harry's lips, feeling safe in his presence.

And then he fell into a deep slumber.

It'll be alright.

Right?

Chapter Text

Harry was holed up in his home for the next two days. The conversation he had with Niall opened his eyes, helped him immensely and he was determined to make it right again.

He'd still beat himself up for getting on the wrong path this easily and for hurting his favourite people in the process.

He'd let Niall sort out things at work for as long as he needed time and was again very grateful to have him.

But he also knew that he couldn't stay in his home forever. He had to get things right. And he'll start with Cara.

So that's what he was about to do, when he stood on her doorstep with his finger hovering above the little button of the doorbell. He gave himself a quick pep talk when he felt the urge to just turn around and ran away. But she deserved an explanation, he owed her that.

And before he actually could change his mind, the door opened suddenly and he was met with the sight of the girl in question. She was wearing a white tank top with a lavender colored cardigan and black leggins. Her hair was in a messy bun on top of her head, Harry noticed it was styled the way he acutally taught her to, the thought made a little smile appear on his lips. She looked every bit herself, and if it weren't for her red puffy eyes, Harry would've thought this was a normal visit. 

"I saw you, you know? Was kind of funny to watch you staring at my door as if it's going to attack you any second." There was little smile on her lips and she stepped to the side to let Harry in.

The detective hesitated for a moment, contemplating if that really was the right thing to do right now. But he soon heard Niall's voice inside his head, daring him to turn around, threatening with beating his ass if he wouldn't set things right with Cara. 

He felt her eyes on him as he entered and took off his shoes only to grab a pair of the slippers she had next to the door for guests. As always, he needed a moment to decide what color he liked and this time he went for blue. He slipped them on and shuffled behind her unsure of what to do. 

"Do you want a drink?" Her voice echoed through the hallway and his legs began to move again.

He sat down at the kitchen table once he reached it. He felt so out of place and unsure of what to do and what his limits were. He felt a stranger in this house as if he hadn't raided the fridge more than once, occupied the couch like his own and spent days and nights in this flat. "Just water, please."

Cara placed a glass filled with water in front of him sat down on the other side. She pulled her legs up on the stool and wrapped her arms around her knees, resting her chin on them while she looked at Harry expectantly.

A few moments went by without anything happening and it was Cara that saved them both from any more awkwardness. "What do you want, Harry?"

"Thank you for having me." Were the words that came out of Harry's mouth, in a posh accent and dripping with professionalism- this was the detective speaking.

And when he cringed at his own tone, Cara snorted.

"Sorry." She giggled and waved her hand between them. "Why is this so strange? Why are you making it so strange Harry? I tried to be angry with you, but you sitting here, acting like a lost puppy trying to get a family to adopt you, it's just ridiculous." Her giggling now expanded to a laugh and Harry just sat there and looked at her with an dumbfounded smile.

"Heeey. That's not really nice of you." He ran a hand through his long curls and chuckled to himself. He needed to get a grip on himself.

"I think have the right to be not so nice after the last time we saw each other, am I right, Harry?"

And there it was. Shit. It's actually time to talk about that.

"Cara I - I don't even know what to tell you. Sorry just wouldn't do it justice." He made himself more comfortable and tried to losen up his shoulders. "I'm so ashamed for what happened. And not because I failed in my masculinity. Because let's be honest, things like that happen to the best of us," only God knew why he felt the need to point that out in this moment. "But because I gave you the feeling that it was your fault when I didn't say anything and because of the reason I invited you in the first place and how it all went on from there on." 

Cara just looked at him with an unreadable expression but much like Niall, she didn't interrupt him, so he went on.

"And I know this is cliche but it had nothing to do with you. It was all me and my guilty conscience. I don't know how much Niall told you or if he told you anything at all. But I got degraded. And Louis Tomlinson took over my place. I was so angry when my father told me and I felt like the whole world was failing me. And to make it even worse none other than Tomlinson himself came into my office shortly after. At that point I had almost drunk a whole bottle of scotch and I called you infront of him to make him jealous." 

He could see the moment his words hit her, as realisation sank in and he watched how she visibly paled. She didn't say a think, just blankly staring ahead while the light in her eyes vanished even further.

"Please, can you just say something? Yell at me, punch me, I don't care. But just, please, say something. Anything." If needed he would go down on his knees infront of her and beg her to do something.

She swallowed, trying to find the rights words, trying to made sense of what he just said to her. "Why do you felt the need to make him jealous and how on earth did you know that it actually would make him jealous?" 

And that was a good question. Because objectively spoken, your colleague of a few weeks won't get jealous over that. 

"Uh, I - actually I don't know. We - uh we kind of kissed? The other day - and maybe I - I don't know." 

Cara nodded, her finger running over the rim of her glass. She abruptly stood up and went over to the fridge from where she pulled out a bottle of wine. She took a glass out of her cabinet and filled it.

Harry watched as she did so, not daring to say another word.

With the glass filled to the brim, she sat back down at the table and took a big sip.

She pinched the bridge of her nose between her pointer finger and thumb. "I really want to ask you to leave right now but I can't." 

Harry watched her with confusion, tension hanging thick over them, filling the space that once held their carefree laughter and fooling.

"You could've pretended, you know? Just pretended to call me instead of actually calling me when you knew exactly how much I want you! Fuck." Silent tears began to run down her pink cheeks and Harry could see how she fought to keep them in, desperate to keep composure but failing miserably. He was about to move when -

"No!" She held her hand up infront of her, clearly telling him to not step any further. "Don't, just - just stay there." She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand not caring about the snot she smeared all over it, wiping it clean on her thigh.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know what I was doing." Liar.

"Let's just pretend you didn't say that." Cara looked at him, so broken and he felt even more helpless. Not knowing what to do. Where to start to fix their friendship.

"You're aware that this," She pointed between them. "That this is over, right? I can't do it anymore." And Harry's heart fell, what did she mean? He needed her as a friend.

"What do you mean? I - I need you as my friend and I love you and I'm so sorry, please tell me what to do or what to say." 

She laughed at that. "Don't you get it? I love you! I. am. in. love. with. you." She emphasised every word to increase the meaning behind it. "I've loved you for a long time now. And I - I've also known for a long time now that you don't love me like that. But every time that we were together I hoped for you to feel it too. To realise that you're deeply and unconditionally in love with me too. But you never did and I was okay with that, " she sniffled and took another sip of her red wine. "At least that's what I told myself. I convinced myself that having a little of you is better than not having you at all." A sob cut her off and she turned away, a hand pressed over her mouth to keep the noise at bay. "And the worst thing is, it isn't even your fault and that makes it hard to hate you."

And now Harry didn't care anymore. Maybe he'd made it worse but he took two long steps and engulfed her in a hug. And that's when she broke down.

Gripping his shirt and sobbing uncontrollably. He just held her. Whispered everything and nothing in her ear. He had no idea how long they stood there like that. And he didn't care. He just wanted her to feel better. And he didn't want to hurt her - that was never his intention.

He wanted to punch himself for being so blind and not seeing what was right in front of him. Or maybe he did see but wanted to protect himself by telling himself that it wasn't true.

Harry felt her relax in his arms after a while, the sobbing now only a few sniffles and hiccups. "I would've been there for you. When you just talked to me instead of using me like that. You made me feel like shit. Because that was my last straw. That was when I realised that you'd never want me in the same way that I want you. And that fucking hurt."

"I know babe." Did he?

"Don't call me that! Please don't call me that. I want you to leave now. I forgive you, Harry, because I know what made you do it. But I just can't be near you anymore. For now at least." His heart shattered but he understood why she said it. How couldn't he not? He closed his eyes for a moment and held her closer.

"I deserve more than being your escape, Harry."

That nearly broke him.

"You do," he whispered. "You really do."

For a long moment, they just stood there. And then, with a quiet sigh, Cara stepped forward and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek.

"Goodbye, Harry."

And just like that, she turned around.

Chapter Text

After what happened with Cara, Harry disappeared.

He called Niall afterwards and let him know what had happened and asked him to look after her.

 He told him not to worry and then he turned off his phone and that was it.

He didn't owe anyone an explanation. He just left.

His head was a mess, his thoughts running in endless loops, suffocating him, trapping him inside his own mind. He needed air, needed distance - from London, from his job, from Louis, from everything. He tossed a few things into a bag, grabbed his keys, and drove. No destination in mind. Just miles of empty road stretching ahead of him, the hum of the engine drowning out the noise in his head.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he was alone. No expectations, no pressures, no one waiting for him to be someone. Just himself, whoever the fuck that even was.

He stopped in a small town by the coast, one of those quiet, sleepy places that felt untouched by time. He found a cheap little inn, checked in without giving his real name, and let the world outside fade away. He kept his phone turned off, ignoring the anxiety clawing at his chest at the thought of being unreachable. It was necessary. If he kept going the way he had been, constantly running, constantly trying to hold himself together while everything inside him unraveled, he would break - even more than he was already.

So, for the first time in years, he let himself just be.

He spent his days walking along the shore, letting the cold sea air clear his head. He sat in small cafés, sipping coffee that tasted too bitter but was grounding nonetheless. He wrote in a notebook he hadn't touched in years, not caring if the words made sense, just getting them out, untangling the knots in his mind one by one.

He thought about his life. About everything that had led him to this point.

About the way his father had broken him down piece by piece, making him believe he would never be good enough, never be strong enough. About how, despite it all, he had built himself into something, something real. And yet, he still felt like he was chasing a version of himself that didn't exist.

He thought about Cara, the way she had looked at him, her voice trembling when she told him she loved him. He had hurt her. Used her. Even if he hadn't meant to, even if he had convinced himself that it was just casual, he had taken and taken without giving anything back. She had deserved better than that.

And then there was Louis.

Louis, who infuriated him, challenged him, pushed every single one of his buttons. Louis, whose voice lingered in his head, whose blue eyes haunted his thoughts even when he desperately tried to push them away.

The kiss. The way it had shaken him. The way his body had reacted, instinctive and hungry, like it had been waiting for that without him even realizing it.

It scared him.

Not because it was Louis, not because he was a man -Harry had never been one to put himself in a box -but because of what it meant. Because Louis had burrowed his way under Harry's skin in a way no one else ever had, and Harry didn't know what to do with that. Because still, he was determined to hate him.

He stayed in that town for days, maybe a week, until he felt like he could breathe again. Until the storm in his head settled into something quieter, something he could face without feeling like it would swallow him whole.

Then, finally, he turned his phone back on.

The screen immediately flooded with notifications - missed calls, unread messages.

Niall. Checking in, making sure he was okay. Probably pissed that Harry had just disappeared, but there was no anger in his words, just concern. Let me know you're alive, you dickhead.

His Mum. Worried, of course, but trusting him to come back when he was ready.

Louis. Message after message. Some short, some longer. The first ones were laced with frustration. If you're gonna fuck off, at least tell someone where you are. Then, softer ones. Are you okay? I know you probably don't want to talk to me, but just... let someone know you're alright. And finally, just: Please come back.

And then there was Cara.

She had sent only one message.

I meant what I said before, but I don't want to lose you as a friend. If you ever want that too, you know where to find me.

Harry exhaled slowly, staring at the screen. It felt like stepping back into reality after floating in some strange limbo for too long. But he felt different now. Not fixed, he wasn't sure if he would ever be fixed, but steadier.

He took a deep breath, ran a hand through his curls, and started typing.

It was time to go home.

**

So after about a week and him trying to figure out where he went wrong, he was finally able to face the next person that deserved an explanation and an apology.

Harry stood in front of Louis' door, his heart pounding in his chest. He had thought about this moment the entire drive over, rehearsing words in his head, trying to string them together into something that made sense. But now, standing here, none of it felt right.

He knocked.

A few seconds passed before he heard footsteps approaching. Then, the door swung open, revealing Louis in sweatpants and no shirt, his hair a tousled mess like he had just woken up from a nap. His blue eyes flickered with surprise, then something unreadable.

"Harry," Louis said, voice guarded.

"Hey. Uh? Shit I should've called. I didn't know you had someone over," He was about to turn. "Uh, just text me when you're free and then -" he spoke with his back to the door but stopped when he felt a hand around his wrist, warm and with a strong grip, not too strong to hurt him but just enough to let him know that it's okay.

"I only was working out." And oh. Yeah, that made sense Harry thought. Louis hesitated for a second, then stepped aside. "You gonna come in, or are we doing this in the hallway?"

Harry stepped inside, the familiar scent of Louis' place hitting him instantly. Coffee, something faintly musky, and the lingering scent of whatever laundry detergent he used. The door clicked shut behind him, and suddenly, it was just the two of them, alone in the quiet of Louis' apartment.

"Why was your first thought that I had someone over and why would that have bothered you?" He heard the smirk in Louis voice. He decidede to ignore it.

Louis walked past him into the kitchen, grabbing two mugs from the counter. "I was just making tea. Want one?"

"Sure," Harry muttered, more for something to do than anything else. He felt restless, like his skin was too tight.

Louis didn't say anything as he prepared the drinks, his movements slow and deliberate. Harry could tell he was stalling. He did the same thing when he was avoiding something, filling silences with unnecessary actions.

Harry looked around. Instead of a hallway he was already in the large open living and dining area, to his right was an also open kitchen in what Louis just prepared the tea. It was modern but not screaming rich, sparsely furnished and decorated, only a few family pictures on the walls. A little untidy but not messy.

There was a small hallway leading out of the living room with three doors and on the other side was a large sliding glass door leading out on a terrace.

"It's nice." Harry said and noticed Louis standing beside him just watching him as the younger boy took in his home.

"I know. Make yourself at home, you can leave your shoes on." He gestured around.

"Is it okay if I still take them off?" He sheepishly asked.

"Harry." Louis sighed with his hands on his hips. "As I said, make yourself at home. If you want to take off your shoes - do that. If you want to take a shit with the door open - be my guest - uh just please open the window afterwards." He joked or at least Harry thought so.

After he placed his shoes next to the door he follwed Louis to the kitchen.

When Louis finally slid a mug toward him, he leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. "So," he said, lifting a brow. "You disappeared."

Harry exhaled sharply. "Yeah."

"You didn't tell anyone where you were. Not even Niall. You know how worried he was?"

"I know," Harry admitted, gripping the warm mug. "I just... needed space. Needed to think."

Louis studied him for a long moment before nodding slowly. "And? Did you think?"

Harry let out a humorless chuckle. "Too much." He glanced down at his drink, then back up at Louis. "I had to get my head on straight. Figure some things out. I-" He sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "I've been carrying a lot of shit for a long time. And I don't always deal with it the right way."

Louis didn't say anything, but his eyes softened slightly.

"I wanted to hate you," Harry admitted. "When we first met. I wanted to blame you for everything. For taking what I thought should've been mine, for getting under my skin in ways I didn't understand. And then-" He swallowed. "Then that fucking kiss happened, and I didn't know what to do with it. I still don't, not completely. I just know that I'm sorry and I owe you an apology."

"You owe me nothing, Harry. And you certainly don't have to apologise because you think it's etiquette or whatever. If you don't mean it, don't say it. I don't need it to work with you." And that left Harry speechless. Because even thoug he meant it, Louis had a point there because the way he said it was true and utter shit.

"You're right. But I want to apologise. I really am sorry, Louis. You did nothing wrong but I treated you like an asshole since the beginning. I wasn't able to see anything except from my anger and hurt and frustration." He relaxed slightly now that the first step was done.

"And that was unfair when in reality I should've given you a chance. But look how that went for me anyway. By the way, congratulations again. And I mean it this time." The young man scratched behind his ear in a nervous way but Louis only nodded appreciatively.

"And uh - for the other thing - uh I mean - with what happened between us - I -" Out the window his confidence went...

"Harry. We don't have to talk about that. We can just forget it ever happened. No bad blood, yeah?" It was so easy for him to say that, Harry thought. Everything he did and said was so easy and Harry was so intrigued by everything that was Louis Tomlinson. 

So apparently the only remark his brain came up with. "But I want to and I don't want to forget about it." He clapped a hand over his mouth as soon as the words left it and Louis stared at him with the same wide eyed expression as Harry himself.

And then there was small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, first the left, then the right followed and soon his face was decorated by a big smile, all toothy and happy and Harry couldn't help but smile too.

They just sat there and smiled at each other while their respective teas grew colder by the minute. Not that any of them was bothered by it. And Louis was the first one to speak.

"So - I don't know what exactly you mean by it but I'm glad, because uh. Yeah, so forgive me if I'm a bit straight forward here but I liked it and to be honest it felt like shit when you just pretended it never happened." Harry realxed a bit and leaned back into the couch, giving Louis all the time he want to point out his side of it too.

"I know we don't really know each other and things like that can happen as a," He made quotation marks with his fingers. "heat of the moment kinda thing - but. What I'm trying so say is ... - nevermind. Friends?" There was so much more Louis wanted to say but didn't and Harry saw that so clearly on his face, the inner conflict visible in his eyes.

And he was not better, because that wasn't what he had planned when he first came here. It wasn't that deep either, no big love confession or whatever but it was now more clear than ever that there was something between them. Some pull, some invisible string that they both felt.

But maybe Louis was right. Maybe it was better when they started from the beginning. With being friends.

So Harry nodded and stretched his hand out to Louis. The latter eyed it for a moment before he shrugged and took Harry's hand.

"Friends." Harry said.

"Friends." Louis confirmed.

But why did Harry still felt ... weird?

Well, maybe that's a conversation for another time. Now that they're friends.

Chapter Text

With a content sigh Harry sat down behind the wheel of his convertible. He plugged his phone in the small holder he had attached to his dashboard. When he started the engine, his phone automatically connected with the car and he saw his Spotify popping up on the screen.

He turned the volume slightly up, buckled his seatbelt and drove away from his parent's house.
He used the wheel as drums and sang along to "Stockholm Syndrome" by one of his favourites bands. 

The weather was nice for this time of the year and instead of rain a few sunbeams came out through the clouds. While humming to the song he absentmindedly watched the people in the streets, minding their own business. A few ladies packed with different sizes of shopping bags, a family dragging their toddlers quickly past the shop windows not wanting them to see the excessive amount of toys and all those things being on display and the occasional businessmen and women heading back to their monotonous 9 to 5 jobs.

He watched all of those people, men and women, boys and girls or whatever they identify themselves as. All those people just living their daily life, having their daily problems and their own package to carry.

Since his sister's disappearance, he felt like he had carried all the bad in the world. As if life just came and throw shit right at his feet, leaving with a laugh and him to figure out himself how to handle it.

He felt alone and helpless, misunderstood and confused. He saw his parents handle the situation in different ways, his father kind of cold as always and his mother completely destroyed. And he was sure, if it wasn't for him, she wouldn't have been able to get through it to where she was now.

And he was grateful for Niall of course, even if he didn't show it in the first place. He had a brilliant and understanding friend and partner right next to him but all he did was drag him down with him in the process.

Drowning his emotions and feelings in alcohol and not caring what happened around him. How he had let it come to this still a mystery to him.

But the thing that scared him to death was the fact that it took only one reason, one person, to realise the downward spiral he was in.

A certain man that appeared in his life without any warning.

Not his best friend for years, not his family, not his colleagues.. a stranger.

A new detective. Called Louis Tomlinson.

And that was something he couldn't wrap his head around.

And that was when he found himself in front of called stranger's door.

He sat there for a second, the music playing in the background, staring at the front door of the cute little one story house.

Dimmed lights shone through the windows, confirming he was home. A shadow here and there, the outline of a person comfortable in the security of his own home. Unaware of the person sitting outside in a car, not knowing what to do.

Why did he even came here in the first place? He didn't even realise driving in this direction. He was just driving with his thoughts running free, while the neighbourhoods passed by. Seemed like his mind had a destination after all.

"Fuck it." He spoke to nothing but an empty car, than pulled the key out, grabbed his phone and got out off his vehicle.

This was a bad idea, he already knew it. Nothing good comes from being this reckless. Louis could have someone over, or he could have other plans and Harry would disturb him from getting ready. Or - and that's the worst option - he just doesn't want to see him.

The agent was about to turn around and go back to his car, hoping no one had seen him when he saw a shadow behind the window forming to a person. And when Louis looked out his window, just about to close his blinds, his eyes fell on the man outside standing on his driveway.

Harry was frozen, maybe, just maybe if he didn't move, Louis wouldn't see him. The latter tilted his head to one side and a questioning look paired with a soft grin on his face.

Shit. So not moving didn't work out.

Deciding he had no other chance, he lifted his right hand and gave a little wave. Maybe the little wave was a little too hard because next thing he heard was a clinking sound and a brief pain in his right temple followed by a clattering sound next to him.

Before he understood what had happened, the front door opened and a laughing Louis came jogging towards him.

"Oh my god, that was the funniest thing I've seen in a long time." He laughed and bent down to grab the keychain Harry had dropped.

"Are you okay though?" He immediately stopped laughing when he saw that there was no reaction from Harry so far, his face becoming serious with a hint of concern.

"That didn't really happen, did it?" The younger man looked from his keychain in Louis hands to the floor, back to his own hand and then brought his fingers up to his temple where the keys had hit him.

"It did." Now that he was sure that Harry wasn't injured he couldn't help the grin that was again trying to escape him. And when Harry smiled too, he was done for. His pink full lips turning into a bright smile, dimples and all and this cute little nose scrunch while he looked slightly at the ground.

"That was embarrassing. I - oh god, first I sat in my car outside your house for god knows how long like a fucking creep, then standing in your driveway like a maniac hoping you wouldn't see me and to top it all I threw my keys against my own temple while waving to you like a three year old. That's great. Hope nobody else has seen it." He rambled and looked around as if to actually make sure there was nobody around that might've witnessed the situation.

"No need to be embarrassed, it was cute actually -wait. What do you mean you sat in your car for so long?" That wasn't exactly the information Harry wanted to explain further but apparently that was the only thing that Louis got out of everything Harry just said.

"Uh, I - you know what? Not that important. I probably interrupted your plans anyway so I just, - he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder towards to where his car was parked, "I should go. Yeah."

"No." The word practically shot out of Louis' mouth almost immediately and Harry looked at him wide eyed. "I mean, no, please come in." He said in a more collected tone and Harry swore he saw a touch of pink on his cheeks.

"Okay." He nodded and followed Louis who already had turned around to his front door.

Inside he took his shoes off and placed them neatly next to the door, out of the corner of his eyes he noticed Louis looking at him with a small smile on his lips. "Don't laugh. I like it better that way."

"I didn't even say something." The older man chuckled with a shrug and turned on his heel. "Do you want a beer?" He heard him yell from the kitchen while he already was on his way to the living room.

"Yes, please." There was a crumpled blanket on one side of the sofa and he couldn't help but imagine Louis all cuddled up on it watching a tv show or a football game and falling asleep in the process. He smiled and sat down on the other side, pulled up his feet and folded them underneath him while he waited for Louis to return with their drinks.

It didn't take him long and soon he plopped down on the couch next to him, he placed the bottles on the small table and pushed the blanket away with his feet as he tried to find a comfortable position.

Scary, Harry thought. It was kinda scary how relaxed he felt, how at home he felt even if it was his second time in this house. But there was just something about Louis' presence that had a calming effect on him. Not that he ever would admit that. Because a few weeks ago he found his presence nothing but annoying.

"Cheers." Louis put his bottle at his mouth and took a few large gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing in the process and Harry had to avoid his eyes. Instead he took his own beer and let the first sips invade his system.

"So, why are you here?" The brunette asked and Harry didn't have an answer for that. What should he say? Oh, I just came from my Mum's and drove without thinking and found myself in front of your house. Certainly not.

"I was nearby and I thought..." he stopped and thought for a moment. Everything that came to his mind just sounded like shit. "To be honest, I have no idea. Can we just pretend this was planned and have a nice lads night?" Harry looked away as he felt the heat in his cheeks.

"Sure." And oh, that was easy.

Time flew by and their conversations did the same, it was so easy talking to Louis and he felt bad for not giving him a chance in the first place. There was just something that felt right, but Harry couldn't place the feeling. Instead he just bathed in it and was so grateful for a night like this. A night where he finally felt like himself again, like the young man that he was. And he could let it go.

Louis popped the cap off his beer bottle with the edge of the table, smirking when it landed with a small clink. He handed Harry a fresh one and leaned back against the couch, stretching his legs out comfortably.

"You ever wonder why beer tastes better when someone else pays for it?" Louis asked, taking a sip.

Harry snorted, tipping his bottle toward him. "Because free shit always tastes better. Basic human psychology."

Louis hummed. "Right. So if I bought every round from now on, you'd be my biggest fan?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "That's a bit ambitious, mate. But I wouldn't complain."

Louis laughed and nudged Harry's foot with his own. "You're easy to please, huh?"

"Not at all," Harry shot back, grinning. "I just know a good deal when I see one."

They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the low hum of the TV playing in the background.

Louis glanced at the screen. "Why the hell are we watching this?"

Harry looked over, squinting at the rom-com playing. "Dunno. It was on when we sat down, and you couldn't be arsed to change it."

Louis smirked. "True. Ugh, who acutally likes shit like that?"

Harry looked offended. "You kidding? Love is tragic. Look at them," He gestured at the screen "they're about to break up over some dumb misunderstanding, only to get back together dramatically in the rain."

Louis tilted his head. "Bit like us, yeah?"

Harry choked on his beer. "Jesus. Don't compare us to a bloody rom-com. Were not even a couple."

Louis grinned. "What? We had the enemies-to-something storyline. A few arguments, some tension, a dramatic confrontation."

Harry shook his head, laughing. "You're an idiot."

"And you're in denial," Louis shot back.

Harry took another sip of his beer, shaking his head. "Whatever, mate."

Louis smirked, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. "Admit it, though. If our story was a movie, I'd be the fan-favorite character."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You wish."

"Bet on it?" Louis challenged.

Harry met his gaze, a slow smile creeping onto his face. "You do realize I'd win, right?"

Louis scoffed. "Oh, you're so full of yourself."

Harry clinked his beer bottle against Louis' with a smug grin. "Cheers to that."

"Hey Harry?" They were at their fifth or sixth beer, far from drunk but both of them relaxed and maybe a tiny bit tipsy.

The younger man answered with a hum, not opening his eyes yet from where he had his head laid back in the headrest of the sofa.

"What's going on between you and the blonde girl?"

"Her name's Cara and we're friends. And uh - we had sex every now and then." He was surprised at his own honesty but there was nothing to be ashamed of or what's worth lying for.

"Do you have sex with all your friends?" Suddenly Harry felt a presence right next to him which led him to open his eyes. When his head lolled to the side he was met with blue eyes staring into his.

Oh?

„Louis, what are you doing?" He said, closing his eyes, trying to shake the images out of his head.

„Nothing." He responded with a chuckle and Harry opened his eyes again only to see his hand on his thigh, slowly wandering further up to his crotch. He can't do this. But with the sudden touch from him, he felt himself slowly growing - but embarrassingly fast.

„I don't think we should do this." Harry pushed his hand off of his thigh and brought a slight distance between them.

„Hazza..." he breathed and Harry felt goosebumps rising on his skin from the nickname.

He gave in and looked over to him. The curly haired man took in all of the other man's features, his bright blue eyes, his sharp cheekbones and those damn fucking lips. Those lips that suddenly became so addictive and before he knew it, those exact lips were on his own.

He froze for a second, unable to think, to react, before he gave in.

Harry let his lips move with his, let him took the lead. When Louis' tongue brushed over his bottom lip he opened his mouth slightly and invited him in. His tongue was already exploring the younger man's mouth, fighting for dominance, eliciting a low moan from Harry's chest.

This was enough for him to straddle Harry's lap, the older man took his face between his large hands and deepened the kiss.

It took Harry only a moment to grab his hips, pulling him down on his lap. He felt his hardened cock over his own and in this moment he knew he was done for.

A deep growl left his lips when Harry pushed his hips up to met his clothed crotch.

Fuck it.

Harry's hands found its way to Louis sweats easily, and he wasted no time before letting his hand slip past Louis' briefs, grabbing his hard cock. The latter hissed at the contact and stopped kissing the other boy.

„Is this okay?" Harry asked him and the blue eyed man nodded.

„More than okay. Keep going." That was the words he needed to hear. Harry let his thumb swipe over his tip, collecting the pre come and spreading it all over his head.

He twitched in his hands, and suddenly his own pants became much too tight. As if he read Harry's mind he pulled away and dropped on his knees infront of him. Louis looked him in the eyes as if to ask for permission and that was immediately granted with a nod.

Harry's pants got undone in no time and he lifted his hips so Louis could pull them down just enough to free his hard dick.

Louis licked his lips and held eye contact before attaching his mouth where Harry needed him the most.

A breath he didn't know he was holding left his lips when Louis tongue swirled over Harry's head, cautiously dipping in the slit.

He involuntary bucked his hips up, determined to feel him completely wrapped around him. Louis obliged and took him all the way down. Not to brag but Harry knew he was a lot to take in, so Louis used his hand to stroke what he can't fit in his mouth. He felt his tip poking the back of his troath and heard him gagging.

Fuck, he needed more.

His hands found its way in his hair, where he gave a slight tug. He pulled away and looked at him.

„Let me fuck you." Harry's voice came out hoarse but he saw the sparkle in his eyes from the words. He stood up and stepped out of his pants. His cock stood glorious upright, a sight that let the younger man's mouth water.

Louis reached over to the table and pulled open the drawer to magically retrieve some condomes and lube.

„Don't worry, darling. We'll manage." He winked with his cocky attitude and Harry rolled his eyes.

„Give me your hand." He said and Harry did what he was told. Before he could react he spat on his fingers. „There you go, spread me open, H." And it took all in him not to come right on the spot. Louis straddled his hips again and he brought Harry's fingers to his tight hole.

And when he felt the soft flesh he still couldn't believe this was happening.

He teased a bit, watching his cock react to the soft touch and smiled to himself. He made eye contact with Louis as he slowly pushed his middle finger in. His pupils dilated even more before he closed his eyes.

He clenched around his finger too hard and the man with the curls stopped what what he was doing.

„Hey, just relax. I got you." Harry whispered.

His words were enough, he nodded and Harry felt him relaxing, automatically his finger slipped in deeper. He released a deep breath and Harry took it as a sign to add a second finger. He whimpered when he pushed his ring finger in beside his middle finger. He spread them a bit to open him up for his cock that was begging for attention at this point.

„Harry, I can't take it anymore." So he pulled out his fingers and grabbed his own cock but not before squeezing a generous amount of lube in his hand to slick up his length with it. He aligned his tip with Louis' hole and looked up to him.

There was a storm in his eyes, barely blue from how his pupils were dilated. Harry grabbed his neck and brought him down, lips finding each other while Louis slowly let himself sink down on Harry. It stung a bit seeing how tight he was and Louis must've felt the same because his eyes pinching shut.

„You okay?" Harry asked and moaned when he felt him slid further down. There was no pressure from his side. The older man was in charge here. He felt him relax with every inch that his cock disappeared until he was fully sat.

They breathed in unison, foreheads pressed against each other just enjoying the closeness. There was a feeling in Harry's chest, one that he had pushed back a long time ago. Feeling another man this close did things to him and he can't hold back any longer. Thankfully, Louis nodded and began moving.

Harry used his large hands to guide the movements, feeling everything, already being so close. Louis dick poked his abdomen with every move and he looked down, the tip was an angry red practically begging for attention and that's what he gave him. With a hand wrapped around him he used the pre cum that already leaked out of him as lube. Another moan escaped the brunettes lips.

„Fuck. H, so fucking good." He panted and Harry closed his eyes, overwhelmed with feelings he shouldn't feel. He locked them out off his head, only focusing on the man on top of him and the pleasure he felt in this exact moment.

„Keep going. I'm close." Harry breathed out.

„Me too." He heard him whimper and pushed his hips up to met his thrusts. „Fuck, I'm going to come." He said, his voice hoarse and only a few seconds after he stilled his movements, Harry felt come shooting all over his hands and tummy. That seemed to do it for him too, because shortly after he also came with a deep groan and spilled into the condom.

There was a moment of silence between them. Only deep breathing filled the room, the darkness surrounding them was the only witness to this sinful act that just took place.

„Alright." Suddenly there was a shift in the mood, Louis lifted himself off of Harry and pulled his pants up. Harry watched him grabbing his pants from the floor and pulling it on.

Feeling kinda embarrassed and not knowing what to do he peeled the condom off of him and secured it with a knot. He placed it on the floor in front of him and put his own pants back on.

Before he could say something Louis already had grabbed the remaining beer bottles and the proof of their actions from the floor and fled in the kitchen.

This was a mistake. Even if it didn't feel like one, at least for Harry. But Louis' behaviour spoke volumes.

Harry was already halfway at the door, ready to put his shoes on when he heard someone clear his throat behind him.

"Ouch. Didn't peg you for the "fuck and then leave without a goodbye" type." The expression on him let Harry shudder because hurt and disappointment was written all over his face.

And he felt like an asshole because, no. He'd rather cuddled Louis on the couch instead of leaving. But he thought it was what Louis wanted when he rushed to get out off the situation and away from him.

"No, sorry. I just thought - uh the way you got dressed so quickly and uh .." he couldn't even form a coherent sentence. What a disaster this evening ended in. Not even ten minutes ago they had fantastic sex and it felt like something even if Harry wouldn't admit that to himself. And now here they were, standing in the middle of Louis' hallway not knowing what to expect.

"That was shit of me, I know that. Look, Harry. I hadn't had sex with a man in ages and I - I didn't expect the night to end like that and I enjoyed it but I was overwhelmed. I'm sorry." And yeah, that's a healthy conversation, isn't it? They can talk like adults.

Time to get things straight then.

"It's okay. I really enjoyed that, too. But I think we should -" he wasn't able to finish his sentence because Louis spoke next.

"You're right! We shouldn't do that again, let's concentrate on our friendship first." The older man nodded and Harry had a hard time keeping it together. He forced a smile on his lips and bit his tongue to stop the tears from spilling out of his eyes. Because what he wanted to say was "I think we should talk about what we want from here on."

But that was only him apparently. Maybe Louis was right either way. They should stay friends, after all they have to work together and nothing good came from working with someone you have some kind of physical connection with.

He swallowed hard and cleared his throat to make sure his voice won't let him down. "Yes. Definitely, we should do that. I'm glad we spoke about that. Uh - I think I should go now. See you at work yeah? And uh - I'm gonna text you or something. It was pleasure, mate." Louis face twisted uncomfortably and then he did something that'll haunt him forever, because he stretched his hand out for Louis to shake.

The other man just looked at him as if he grew three heads and Harry noticed what he'd done and quickly pulled his hand away. He chuckled awkwardly and ran a hand through his long curls.

"Well, bye then Lou." He almost whispered his name and when he looked up there was something on Louis face that he couldn't quite comprehend.

"Bye ... Haz.."

And Harry was out the door in seconds.

What the fuck had he just done?

Chapter Text

Louis

Louis stood in his hallway and just stared at the door. At the same door that Harry just ran out off.

He ran a hand over his face, trying to steady himself, but his thoughts were all over the place. This was never supposed to be personal. Not like this. He was here for a reason, one that had nothing to do with tangled limbs and breathless moans in the dark.

And now he had let himself sink into something dangerous, something reckless, something that could destroy him when the truth inevitably came out.

How could he be so stupid? He didn't meant a single word he just said to Harry but the words just came out without permission.

Deep down he knew it was self protection. If he was the first to say it, he was safe. Because never again would he be the first one to break. He did that one time and that led to him having his heart broken in the most cruel way. So no, he needed to have the upper hand in this.

But when he saw Harry's face and the way the younger boy tried to hide his expression he thought that maybe Harry felt the same. But there was no way he could be sure.

After all, Harry immediately agreed, right?

Still, he couldn't help the unsettling feeling that spread through his body. Because the sex, oh god the sex, was just .. magical.

It felt like something.

And never had he thought that he'd ever have him. Harry Styles. How on earth did that happen to someone like him, he thought. Because this man was just everything.

To be honest, he was done for the first time he stepped into his office. Of course he had seen pictures and he tried to search him on social media. So yes, he knew that this man was really attractive. But seeing him in person, he would never forget.

Those green eyes and the unruly curls being pushed back probably from running his hand through them multiple times. The jawline, so sharp it could cut diamonds, never had he seen a more perfect face. And not to forget, those dimples. Dimples. When Louis thought he couldn't be more perfect he saw him laughing, this big, bright and dimpled smile that could lighten a whole room.

But he ruined it. He ruined it by saying that he wanted them to just stay friends. Great job, Tommo.

He threw his head back and groaned annoyed and after a few moments he made his way back over to the couch. The couch. Oh god how is he ever supposed to sit on his sofa again without thinking about what had happened not even an hour ago.

But there still was this lingering feeling. The guilt. 

And Louis felt sick to his stomach.

Because Harry didn't know.

Didn't know that Louis had come into his life with an agenda. Didn't know that every step of this case, Louis had been pretending. Playing a role. Lying with every breath.

Except it wasn't pretend anymore, was it? Not when his chest ached like this. Not when he wanted, more than anything, to reach out everytime and brush his fingers along Harry's jaw, just to feel that warmth a little longer.

This was bad. So fucking bad.

Figuring that there's not much he could do right now, he cleaned up as best as he could and looked for his phone. When he found the device he scrolled through his contacts and finally found the number he was searching for.

He dialled and waited a few seconds until the beeping sound ended and after a little bit of rustling the call connected.

"Louis, mate. What's up?"

"I need to talk to you." Was all he said and the line was silent. He waited again and heard someone moving on the other side, dull footsteps and a clinking sound.

"Just grabbed my keys. I'll be there in 5." The other voice answered and Louis smiled to himself.

"Thanks mate."

**

Harry

The buzzing sound brought him out of his daydreaming. For a moment he was confused as for where he was. When he looked down and saw the papers spread out all over his desk he came back to reality.

To say he wasn't himself was an understatement, ever since the night with Louis his brain was malfunctioning. If he thought that thinking of the other man during the day was the worst that could've happened, he was wrong. Because the stranger boy even infiltrated his dreams. Safe to say, the other detective made himself comfortable in Harry's mind.

And it was only three days ago. Well, fuck.

Again, the buzzing sound filled his office and he pushed his pointer finger on one of the buttons.

"Yes?" His voice was raspy from the lack of use and he cleared his throat as he waited for a reply. As expected shortly after Maggie's voice came through the speaker.

"I need to remind you of the meeting with Niall and Detective Tomlinson." Harry cringed at her words, still finding it difficult to hear someone say his name. His gaze wandered to the clock over the door and oh, had he actually missed lunch break?

Apparently he was so deep in whatever it was that he was thinking - because he couldn't even remember - that he missed the whole late morning.

"Uh yeah, thank you Maggie. They can come in whenever they want." He let her know and leaned back in his chair. Even with Louis being the new leader in this case they still met in Harry's office because he still had the biggest and most comfortable one out of the three of them.

Not long after there was a knock on his door and he sat up straight. Suddenly fully aware that this would be the first time he'd see Louis again after their sex.

The door opened and in came the two others. And when his eyes landed on Louis, his heart rate sped up. He forced his mind and body to calm down but boy, the voice in his head was constantly reminding him how his dick felt buried deep in Louis' ass.

And shit, was he fucked.

Louis seemed to be no better, because Harry swore there was a little blush creeping up his cheeks as they held eye contact. Or maybe he's imagining things.

"Excuse me? I'm still here!" A voice interrupted whatever was happening and Harry blinked a few times before his eyes now landed on his best friend.

"Did I miss something or why did it look like you were eye fucking one another? First I was afraid you're going to kill each other and now I have to be careful to not walk in on anything, huh?" He broke out in laughter over his own joke while Harry and Louis both tried to look at anything but each other or Niall.

A few awkward seconds passed before Louis cleared his throat and never before was Harry so grateful to hear something from him.

"Yeah, well. I have things to do after this so just let's get over with so we all can head home." He sat down on the sofa not even bothering with taking place at the desk like Niall did.

"Oh someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." Niall chuckled but stopped when he saw Harry looking at him with a death stare. The curly haired one slowly shook his head and leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Well, DetectiveTomlinson. As you're so eager to got home I'd say you should go first and tell us about the progress and what the next step will look like." He raised a challenging eyebrow at the older man but was only met with a smug grin.

"Sure, Detective Styles." He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees while he folded his hands together between his legs, which were spread far too wide for Harry's liking but that was a thought for another time.

"So, of course we weren't idle. The teams searched all the locations and the surrounding area up to a radius of 150 meters. And just like us, they've found a lily at each location, turning them into crime scenes." Louis now pulled out his iPad and tapped on the screen. He stood up and walked over to the desk where he laid his iPad down and let the other men have a look at it.

They were different pictures in different places but on every picture there was the same red blossom that they'd found at Harry's parent's house. He swiped to the next picture and Niall and Harry both sucked in a sharp breath.

The other two agents looked at each other and then at Louis, clearly waiting for an explanation.

"When I told you that I thought I knew what this was about I wasn't lying. Because this exact case happened in Germany. An anonymous source told us it was a prostitution ring or some kind of. They left no trace except the blossoms. And then they disappeared. We thought it was a one-off, albeit perfidious serial crime. But then we heard about the cases of missing young women here and of course it immediately reminded us of the case of the Red Lily. He explained and the hairs on Harry's arms slowly began lifting. And uneasy feeling settling in his gut. Afraid of the answer to his next question.

"You said a prostitution ring. What - uh what did the questioning of the victims reveal?" He picked at his fingernails and saw Louis pressing his lips in a thin line before he breathed out.

"Harry. All of the women were murdered after being brutally raped and tortured." And with that Harry's stomach turned and he leaned over to his paper bin where he tried to throw up the contents of his breakfast. Niall was on his feet in a second and behind Harry, where he gathered his best friend's hair to hold it out of his face.

Louis quickly got up and over to the cabinet where Harry kept his drinks. He poured a glass of water and brought it over to Harry as well as a couple of paper towels.

When the young man stopped retching, he thankfully took the glass and rinsed his mouth. He used the towels to clean himself and took another few gulps to get rid of the taste.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, kinda embarrassed about his reaction to something so common in his job. His eyes flickered back to the picture on Louis' iPad, and a shudder went through his body as he looked at the bodies of different women.

"Harry. We still don't know if that's what happened here. There's still a chance. With Louis here now, we have a chance." The Irish boy tried to comfort his friend and partner as best as he could even if he knew that it was probably a lost cause.

"He's right Harry. We know now what we're dealing with. And we know what we're looking for. We'll get some of our men undercover as well as some of our best women. We have to be careful and quick and we need to get as much information as soon and as fast as possible. At this moment there are already a few of our people out there, mingling with the clientele in certain clubs." He took a glass of water himself and waited for a moment to make sure Harry and Niall were on board to this point. When neither of the men said something he continued.

"But Harry, there's one more thing I have to say." The older detective now leaned slightly forward and looked him in the eyes. Harry swallowed thickly, not trying to dwell on the fact that his heart skipped a beat as his eyes met those extraordinary blue ones.

"Go on." His voice came out raspy, his throat sore from throwing up only a few minutes ago so he cleared it again and grabbed his glass.

"The victims were not randomly chosen. I said there's no pattern and no connection between the locations or so and that's true - but there's a connection between the missing girls and - "

"No!" Harry stood up, not even waiting for Louis to finish but already expecting the worst. "Don't you dare and even think about saying that Gemma is a prostitute." He leaned over and pointed an accusing finger towards Louis.

The latter raised his hands in surrender and Niall was ready to get between them.

"Calm down, would you? I was not about to say that." Louis said and Harry breathed out a quiet thank god.

"Still, you won't be happy to hear what I've got to say. Because the families of the victims all are connected. Precisely the fathers of the girls." And Harry's blood ran cold, out of the corner of his eye he saw Niall shaking his head while he rubbed his hand over his face.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that all of the fathers, including your own, are or were part of a group of established and well-known gentlemen who regularly met for scotch and cigars to talk about whatever makes them feel superior." He finished and at this point Harry had his hands in his hair, angry pulling at the roots and tangling his unruly curls between his fingers.

"Okay, but that doesn't have to mean anything. What exactly are you getting at? Harry's father, Police Chief Desmond Styles, is a highly respected person and member of the society." Niall spoke for the first time after a long while. A soothing hand on Harry's shoulder as he did so often.

"I'm just telling the facts here. As I said, we have men undercover in various parts. But Harry, I think it would be from use if you'd accompany your father to the next meeting. Who knows what information we can get out of it." And then Harry stood again, two long strides and he was directly in front of Louis.

When the smaller man also stood, he pressed his pointer finger on his chest in a warning.

"Just as I thought we could be friends, just as I began to trust and respect you, you came here and open your mouth about my father. Fuck you, Louis. You know nothing about me and my family and I won't tolerate you talking shit and accusing them!" He used his flat hand to shove the lead agent backwards and stormed past him out of his office.

Suddenly everything felt too much again, too tight. And all he could think of was drowning this feeling in alcohol.

Fuck that stranger boy and his fucking big mouth.

Harry hated him.

But what he hated more was the fact that deep down, he couldn't hate him.

What if he was right?

Chapter Text

Louis

Louis sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, fingers tangled in his hair as his thoughts twisted and turned in his head like a storm he couldn't quiet. The room around him felt too still, too quiet, like it was suffocating him under the weight of everything that had just happened.

"He's an asshole, that's what he is. A spoiled brat." Louis rolled his eyes at that and was glad that they were just talking over the phone.

"You don't even know him. He's under so much pressure with everything that's going on. I mean, how would you react if you were in his position?" And just as he finished his question he realised the mistake he made.

"Oh that's just great, Louis." He scoffed.

"I didn't mean it like that. Fuck, sorry." The detective sat down and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Well let me tell you then. I wouldn't know how he feels seeing as my sister is dead. But let me assure you, that's worse! And whose fault -"

"Zayn...." Louis tried to get through to his best friend, now regretting that he even called him in the first place knowing very well his opinion about Harry.

"Save it. I don't know why I even talk to you. And I don't know why you still work with him. Clearly you two hate each other just as much as I hate him. Just do it on your own. " Zayn's voice was dripping with venom, the distaste for the other detective was clear.

"Zayn, come on. I'm sorry, I didn't think and it was shit. But - you know I loved her like my own -" he couldn't even finish the sentence before  he was interrupted again.

"If I were you I wouldn't say what you're about to say," he heard Zayn taking a deep breath in, imagined him running his hand through his hair until he spoke again. "I can't believe you right now and I won't talk to you about that any longer. You're my best friend and I love you but I can't stand you at the moment so don't bother talking to me as long as your head is so far up that boys' ass that your brain is full of shit. Bye Lou." And with that the line went silent.

Louis sat down on his sofa and stared at the device for a moment longer, maybe wishing for Zayn to call back - he knew he wouldn't do that and of course he understood. He knew he crossed a line, and he did it without even thinking. But also, he couldn't help but be disappointed. Zayn was his best friend. And he just wanted to talk about something that was importan to him. And deep down he had hoped that Zayn could push his own feelings about Harry back for a moment and be there for him. But clearly, they weren't there yet. 

Laying back on his sofa he let out a long sigh. He tried to rub the frustration out off his face but unfortunately, things didn't go like that. 

**

Louis had seen the storm brewing in Harrys eyes the moment the words left his mouth. Had watched his whole body go rigid, his jaw clench so tightly Louis thought he might crack a tooth. He knew it was a risk, bringing up a theory like that, especially to Harry of all people. But what else was he supposed to do?

He understood Harry's reaction, he really did. 

And yet, even knowing that, even standing by what he said, the look on Harry's face still lingered in his mind like a brand he couldn't shake. The betrayal, the anger, the way he had shut down completely, not even giving Louis a chance to explain himself further.

But what really had hurt him the most, was the way he looked at him, with so much hate and disgust. 

Louis had thought they were making progress. He exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face again.

After everything that had happened between them, after the tension and the fighting and the push and pull, after they had slept together - he thought, for one fucking second, that maybe things were shifting. Maybe, just maybe, Harry didn't hate him as much anymore. Maybe Louis didn't have to keep pretending he didn't care about what Harry thought of him.

But clearly, he was wrong.

Harry still saw him as an outsider. As the enemy. As someone he could never fully trust.

And maybe that was Louis' fault, in the end. Maybe he should've kept his mouth shut. Maybe he should've -

His phone rang, jolting him from his spiraling thoughts.

He blinked, glancing at the screen. Harry.

His stomach twisted, but he answered immediately.

"Harry-"

"They found her."

Louis sat up straighter. "What?"

"The first girl that disappeared. Stacey Carter. They found her."

For a moment, all Louis could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. The first victim. The girl who had disappeared before any of the others. The girl whose case had started this whole damn nightmare.

It was only then that he wondered why it was Harry who had called him. It should've been him that should've got the call. 

"Where?" he asked, already standing, already moving to grab his jacket.

"Just come the station," Harry said, voice clipped, devoid of any emotion. "We'll go from there."

The line went dead.

Louis swallowed hard, staring at his phone for a beat longer, trying to shake the unease creeping up his spine.

Whatever fragile ground he and Harry had been standing on had just cracked wide open.

He was at the station in no time and parked right next to Harry's black Range Rover, the latter already waiting for him outside and pointing to his own car. 

A click indicated that Harry had unlocked his vehicle and Louis was quick to get in on the passenger side. Harry followed shortly after, a wave of his cologne coming in with him, washing a wave of emotions and memories over Louis. He tried to get himself out off it before it was too late.

"So, what exactly happened? Is Niall not coming?" He asked when Harry buckled himself in.

"He's already there, was nearby so it made sense. Actually, we have no idea so far this is all very shady." He spoke in his usual slow and steady voice.

"Okay, so in which hospital did they bring her? Is she good to be questioned yet?" Louis asked getting more and more impatient with the lack of information he got, kind of annoyed that he had to coax every word out of him.

"Not sure, I only got the address and was being told to get you and get there as quickly as possible." He replied and continued to stare at the dark road ahead of them, the streetlights illuminating the inside of the car every few seconds. 

"And you didn't ask for more? Are you serious?" He turned to Harry but the other man was still looking forward not even making any attempts to answer.

Well, they're up for a surprise as it seemed then and Louis decided it was best to just leave it at that until they arrived at their destination and he could see for himself.

And they did not long after, both of them frowning when they pulled up to a two story house in an upper class neighbourhood.

"That - that's not what I expected." Harry mumbled and double checked the area and the address they'd sent him as if the other police cars weren't proof enough that they were at the right place.

"Me neither. This isn't good, Harry." He said and already had an idea where this was going. Because there could only be two options right now, either the girl was completely unharmed or -

"I know." The other man replied and quickly got out of the car and Louis swore he heard the nervousness in his voice. He knew that it wasn't Gemma in this house. But he knew that whoever was in there and whatever happened, the same could've happened to his sister.

Louis decided to say nothing more and joined Harry, both of them hurrying over to the front door where two officers stood. Without even checking they were led through and soon they saw Niall.

The blonde agent was in what seemed to be a heated conversation with the paramedics that were also present at the scene.

When he noticed them, he excused himself and came over to greet his partners.

"Niall, what's going on." Harry spoke before Louis even had the chance to say or do something.

"Stacey Carter, 24 year old student. Her parents found her dead in her bed this evening." And in his peripheral vision he saw Harry placing his hand over his mouth. "And uh - that is probably the hardest part about it - she shows signs of severe abuse and neglect."

And he knew immediately, that even if they both were prepared as soon as they realised she wasn't in a hospital, it was hard for Harry. Because now it's not just a missing case, now it's murder. And his sister was still involved.

"She was the first victim." Harry whispered and Niall nodded.

"Yeah. She was the first one missing," Niall looked over to Louis before he went on. "Look, H. We still know nothing, that doesn't have to mean anything."

Louis watched as Harry took a deep breath in before he spoke and his whole demeanour changed. "I know. Let's do our job then. What do we know already?"  He was on duty now.

And Niall told them what he knew so far. They already knew her family story, they knew she grew up in a wealthy environment, her dad being a big shot in the real estate industry and so on - just like it was with all the other missing women. 

Turns out the parents came home tonight after they received a message from their daughter, saying that she was home and that she was scared and missing them and just wanting to see them. Needless to say they immediately drove home, excited and relieved to have their daughter back. 

Instead, in her bed, they found their daughter's body, bruised and bloody everywhere, deep purple marks all over her pale and cold skin. 

Louis kept glancing at Harry the whole time. Noticing how he nervously picked on his cuticles, tapping his foot repeatedly, biting his bottom lip raw. And when the coroner came and told them that he found signs of recent sexual intercourse, which probably happened after her dead, he watched him excusing himself and storming outside.

Thankfully Niall was quick to follow him. Louis didn't know if he was in a position to do so after what happened between them. That doesn't mean that he didn't want to be the one chasing after him - comforting him.

They came back after a while, Harry looking pale as ever, his curly hair now in a messy bun on top of his head, a bottle of water clutched in his hand.

"We're done here." He said as they approached them and both detectives nodded. "I think we all need to rest now so that we can start with all the interrogations tomorrow."

They had only briefly spoken to the parents. Neither of them in a state to be succesfully interrogated yet. Also, they had an alibi so there was no need to bother them more than neccessary in this exact moment. 

All three of them made their way outside after saying a quick goodbye to their officers and the other people on the scene. Niall heading to his own car, side hugging both of them before he did so, while Louis followed Harry to his Rover.

"You okay to drive?" He cautiously asked as Harry fiddled with his keys, then nodded.

"Sure. Get in, I'm knackered."

They drove in silence to the department and when Harry stopped next to Louis' car, he didn't say anything. Louis waited for a moment, unsure of what to do, what to say.

Harry has both his hands still on the steering wheel, head tilted down.

And Louis took a deep breath in. "Let me drive you home, Harry. I know you won't admit it but this was hard for you. I get that. So let me help, yeah? As your partner." He said and for some reason his heart beat faster. Afraid of what Harry's answer would be.

There was nothing for a long time and Louis figured he went too far, but then Harry nodded. He unbuckled his belt and got out of the car, Louis doing the same. Without words they switched places and soon Louis drove off.

Neither of them said anything and Louis didn't dare to look over but when he reached Harry's house, he saw that the other man had fallen asleep against the window.

Quietly, he got out of the car, making his way over to the passenger side where he tried his best to get Harry out of the car without waking him up.

He succeeded surprisingly - not wanting to think about what that could mean - and carried him inside, surprised about how light he was for his height and anatomy.

He was at his house before, but he only saw the hallway and a glimpse of his living area.

Remembering that Harry didn't like wearing shoes inside, he respected that and them off. He left them next to the door before deciding to go up the stairs where he figured Harry's bedroom was located.

"Second on the right." He nearly dropped the man in his arms as his tired voice surprised him, not knowing he was awake.

He soon found himself in Harry's bedroom. He wasn't exactly comfortable, not wanting to cross any boundaries so he tried to wake Harry fully up - without success.

"Okay, I'm going to take your shoes and your clothes off. I won't let you sleep in them. No worry though, I'll keep your underwear on. Tell me stop at any time."

There was nothing so Louis did as he said. He tucked him in and was about to leave when he felt a hand grab his wrist and he stopped.

He turned around, looking down at Harry's hand on his wrist and then at the man himself. His eyes were open now and they looked at each other.

"Stay?" It was barely above a whisper and Louis heart broke at how small his voice sounded. He contemplated for a second but then figured that it was something that he would do for Niall too, and he was his partner as well.

So he quickly undressed himself, just leaving on his boxers and his shirt, not wanting to make any of them uncomfortable with being too bare.

He slipped under the covers with Harry and stayed on his back, staring at the dark ceiling unsure of what to do.

That was until he heard a clear of throat.

"Uh, can you cuddle me?"

"Yes, of course." He sounded a bit too excited but the word left his mouth before he could think of it as he turned and slid closer to Harry.

Louis had never seen Harry like this before.

Not when they fought. Not when Harry threw him against a wall during their first real argument. Not even when Harry was drunk off his ass, trying to drown whatever demons haunted him.

This was different.

Harry was curled up on his side, facing away from Louis, his breathing shallow, his body tense even as sleep weighed him down.

Slowly, carefully, he reached out and wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, resting his forehead against the back of his neck. Harry stiffened in his sleep for half a second before melting into the touch.

Louis let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

It wasn't much. It wasn't forgiveness. It wasn't understanding. But it was something.

He tightened his hold, wishing he could take away even an ounce of what Harry was feeling. Wishing he could say the right thing, do the right thing.

But this wasn't something that could be fixed with words.

So he just held him.

Chapter Text

HARRY

Harry woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside his window. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of a restless night's sleep.

The memories of his missing sister lingered in the corner of his mind, casting a shadow over his morning. He shifted a bit, feeling something behind him and immediately remembered that he'd asked Louis to stay the night with him. Looking back, it wasn't his best decision.

Turning to his side, he saw Louis still asleep beside him. His heart skipped a beat as he watched the rise and fall of Louis's chest. Stupid heart, stop that.

There was a sense of comfort in having him there, a warmth that Harry couldn't quite explain. And most importantly, he didn't want to admit it.

"Morning," Harry whispered, his voice rough from lack of sleep.

Louis stirred, blinking his eyes open. "Hey," he mumbled, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips?

Harry hesitated before speaking. "Thank you for staying," he said quietly.

"Of course, Harry." His face softened for a second but realisation hit him fast and he stumbled out of bed, collecting his clothes in a rush, Harry watched the scene in silence, not knowing what to say or how to react.

Louis was out of his room in the blink of an eye, without a word, without looking back. Harry groaned and threw his head back into his pillow. After a while he got up and made his way over to his bathroom where he used the toilet and brushed his teeth.

His long and curly hair was a mess on top of his head as he had slept with the bun that Niall helplessly tied while he threw up. He decided to just leave it be and put it up in another, albeit more clean bun. He dressed himself in some black tight jeans and a light blue dress shirt that he left partly unbuttoned.

He grabbed a banana from the small bowl on his kitchen counter and decided to drive to the department as soon as possible. After all, there's now a murder case waiting for them.

When he arrived he was met with some pitiful glances and he was about to fuck off and turn around to go home. 

He rushed past them right to his office where he prepared some tea and sat down at his desk. He put his head in his hands and thought for a moment.

What did the death of the girl really mean for the case and for his sister? Was it just an accident, some kind of exempel?  Or was it the begging of a whole line of murder, like Louis said happened before? Were they running out of time and soon find more dead girls? Who's behind this whole thing and why didn't they make progress in this whole case if Louis apparently knows so much?

There were so many questions constantly running through his head that he feared it might explode at some point. And the worst part was, he craved a good scotch or whiskey more than ever. Just to relax, just to shut his thoughts and feelings down for a moment.

But he also knew that he had to cut back with it. The time Niall found him completely out off it was something that changed him. And he realised that drowning his emotions in alcohol wasn't the solution. But still, there was this feeling deep inside of him, as if the bottle of expensive liquor in his cabinet was screaming his name.

Thankfully there was a knock on the door that snapped him out of his head.

"Come in." He yelled. The door opened and in stepped - of course - Louis.

"Good morning." He said for  a second time today.

"Morning." Harry replied, taking a sip of his steaming tea before putting the cup down in front of him.

The air in Harry's office was thick.

Not with tension, not with anger - just... something heavy. Something neither of them could name.

Harry sat at his desk, eyes glued to his tea.

He cleared his throat. "Uh - the water's still hot, feel free to make you some tea." He gestured to the kettle and Louis nodded without saying something. Still, he got up and prepared himself a cup of tea.

It was awkward. Painfully, suffocatingly awkward.

Harry could still feel the warmth of Louis's arms around him from the night before. The steady rise and fall of his breathing against his back. The way he hadn't said a word - had just held him like he needed it, like Harry wasn't alone in his own goddamn misery.

And Harry hated it.

Because he did need it.

Why was he always that stupid. He didn't know. Fuck his life.

"Shit that's hot." Louis' voice brought him out of his thoughts and he looked up to where the other man was back on the sofa. He had the cup in his right hand while he waved his left hand in front of his mouth.

"What did you expect?" He looked unimpressed at the man on his sofa, slightly shaking his head.

Louis said nothing though, only furrowing his brows at Harry from where he watched the younger man over the rim of his cup.

Harry cleared his throat. Louis tapped his pen. A phone rang in the distance. Someone laughed outside. It all felt too loud, too sharp against the weird bubble they were stuck in.

They weren't supposed to be like this.

Harry hated how his body remembered the way Louis fit against him. Hated how his mind kept replaying it, over and over. Hated how, when Louis sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, looking just as lost in his own thoughts, all Harry wanted to do was crawl right back into that space where it wasn't awkward. Where it was just quiet and warm and safe.

Instead, he turned a page in his file without reading a single word.

Louis shifted in his seat.

The silence remained.

Harry internally begged that Niall would arrive soon so that he didn't have to be in this weird situation alone with Louis any longer.

The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the wall. So loud that Harry jumped every time. Why was this clock so loud? It had never been this loud before. Has it always been this loud? Harry should definitely pay attention to it because if it's always this loud then he definitely needs a new clock.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

"Oh for fuck sake, why is that clock so loud?" Harry didn't realize that he was standing up and complaining loudly, only when his gaze slowly wandered to Louis and the latter was staring at him with wide eyes did he realize that he had said it out loud.

Well, could he embarrass himself any more? He just hoped that Niall would finally arrive and that he wouldn't have to be alone in a room with Louis anymore.

Because it was torture.

He didn't know what to say or what to do. Louis seemed to feel the same way, because he too just sat there and looked around. 

What had happened?

They wanted to be friends. Had Harry really ruined it and made it uncomfortable with a thoughtless and insignificant request?

They slept in the same bed and that was much more intimate for Harry than actually sleeping together.

Oh fuck, he has to stop his thoughts before he completely loses his mind. Why was he even worrying so much about what had happened or what would happen in the future.

He shouldn't care, Louis was his colleague and in a way his boss, whether he liked it or not.

Harry had to get his shit together. That much was certain. Did Louis think like that too? Did he also think about the night they spent together and about everything that had happened between them? Or is it just Harry? Surely it's just Harry, pathetic little Harry.

Why did this always have to happen to him? Why couldn't he just be normal. A normal young man with normal problems and a normal life. No, instead he was Detective Harry Styles, son of the famous and well-known Desmond Styles. The poor guy who had to investigate his own sister's disappearance.

Pitiful.

"Harry!" A loud voice brought him back and he saw a hand waving right in front of his eyes. He blinked a few times and looked around. His eyes landing on Niall with a brown take out bag in his hand. 

"Welcome back, what world where you in?" The Irish man asked with a smile on his lips. So it had happened again, he was lost in his thoughts without noticing the world around him. This happened to him more often, especially recently.

"Sorry, did you say something?" Harry rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He dared a quick glance at Louis, who had his bottom lip between his teeth and looked almost worried.

He shook his head and concentrated on Niall. "I brought breakfast - or," he glanced at his watch, "more lunch than breakfast but I thought we could all use something to eat after that night." Niall said casually and Harry's heart beat faster.

What did he mean by that night? He couldn't know anything, could he?

It seemed as if he recognized Harry's confused look so he continued. "I was speaking about the new developments, what did you think?" For a moment Harry had no idea how to respond.

Luckily for him Louis intervened. "Sure mate, thank you. I'm starving. This was a shock and something we didn't expect." He took the bag from Niall's hand and looked inside.

"I certainly didn't expect the night to end like this." He continued and his eyes met Harry's. There it was again, blue met green and something in the room changed.

"Right." Niall confirmed and took the bag that Louis now held out to him again. Both detectives had their sandwiches and started to eat and Harry noticed that his stomach could use some food too.

He looked into the bag and was grateful for the veggie sandwich that Niall had brought him and a little surprised that Louis also seemed to know that it was for him.

They ate their lunch in silence, each of them seemed to be locked in their own head, but all three of them stuck over the same thoughts.

Harry's thoughts were undoubtedly focused on one topic.

Gemma.

The discovery of the body yesterday scared him deeply and he couldn't help but wonder if they were already too late and if it was just the beginning. If all the girls would suffer the same fate.

His head was about to explode, how could it be so difficult to solve this case. Of course they had made progress, thanks to Louis' help, Harry had to admit that in some way. But that wasn't enough.

They had so many cops outside, and still, no one brought any useful information. Another meeting with all the forces deployed was needed, they had to work harder to deliver results faster.

Still, this whole case was a mystery. Sure, they knew it was an organized crime, but what was behind it? What was the motive? And above all, who was the mastermind behind it all?

Harry looked at Louis, who had already finished his sandwich and was scrolling through his phone. He really tried to trust Louis and see the good in him. After all, he had helped.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Louis Tomlinson than he seemed to admit.

And yes, Harry was reckless, he had given himself to him far too quickly in a moment of weakness, overcome by lust.

But that wouldn't change the fact that he would be careful and attentive. He had already gone a step too far and even if the night they spent together just lying next to each other had done something to him, he had to switch off his feelings and concentrate on the essentials.

Friendship was fine, but first and foremost they were partners working on a case. And that doesn't work when feelings are involved. Harry knew that now, it was hard enough working on the case that involved his own sister.

What he needed even less was even more of an emotional connection to this case.

And so he sat there, behind his desk, watching the other man. And he swore to himself that he would solve this case, no matter what it cost, and that he would not let himself be distracted by any sentimentality.

And he was so sure, so sure that he had everything in his own hands.

And if he had known what the future would bring him - then he would never have got involved in what was to come... 

Chapter Text

Today was Christmas Eve... the months just passed in a blur, without any progress, with Louis being as secretive as ever and Harry slowly falling apart.

Harry was currently sitting at the dining table with his parents at their mansion. It was beautifully decorated, spotless as always. The good tableware, matching cutlery. Candles, napkins. And too much food for it being only three of them on Christmas Eve.

Everything was as usual, everyone was sitting in their place. But this year someone was missing and no amount of decoration in the world could make up for that fact.

Harry was miserable. He felt sick the moment he woke up today. How is he supposed to spent  Christmas without her? There's no way.

Gemma and he had a ritual. Every Christmas Eve, ever since Harry could walk, they would sneak out and watch the stars on the roof. With hot cocoa, wrapped up in their coats and blankets.

That was their thing, nobody could hurt them, only two siblings with no responsibilities. They stayed up until well after midnight and wished each other a Merry Christmas.

Then, when their lips were blue and their fingers numb, they would sneak down quietly and look at what was already under the tree.

But this year everything would be different. One seat at the table was empty, and nothing could fill that void. No matter how hard his parents tried to keep the mood up, to fill the evening with jokes. Harry wanted none of it - just for it to be over. After a never-ending dessert, his parents finally said their goodbyes. His father left first, announcing that he would go for another cigar in his office. His Mum nodded and stood up, as did Harry. She wrapped him in a tight hug and he closed his eyes, tears burning behind his eyelids that he desperately tried to swallow.

"Everything will be okay, my baby boy. We have each other and we will get through this together," she whispered in his ear and he couldn't help but let out a loud sob.

Anne hugged him tighter as he hugged her back. He breathed in deeply, the familiar scent of his mum. The woman that had spent so many nights and days comforting him. Whenever he had a nightmare or was sick. His mum was always his safe haven, next to Gemma. And he knew that he had to be strong too, but today he couldn't. Today he just wanted to be the little boy, wrapped in his blanket while Anne stroked his hair and hummed the melody to You are my Sunshine.

But he couldn't do that, so he broke away from the embrace and wished his mother a goodnight with a kiss on the forehead. As soon as she had left the room, he leaned on the back of his chair and hung his head. What was he supposed to do.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and brought him out of his misery. A glance at the screen told him that it was Niall. God no, please not another dead victim.

He answered the call and was relieved when he heard Niall's cheerful voice. That way he wouldn't be the bearer of bad news. "Hazza my mate. What are you doing on this early Christmas Eve?" He practically shouted into the phone and Harry's mouth twitched in amusement. 

"Just finished dinner at my parent's. Was about to go to bed and cry myself to sleep like the pathetic man I am." He answered dryly and ran his finger over the carved shapes on the chair.

"No, come on. I won't let you. Come to the Satellite. Louis is here too. We're celebrating his birthday." and yes, there was commotion heard in the background. 

"You're celebrating his birthday? Who exactly? And why would I come when I wasn't important enough to be invited in the first place?" He huffed. 

"Harry, come on. Nothing was planned. We met by chance and a few of our colleagues were here too." Harry didn't know what to make of it and was about to refuse when a voice echoed through the line. 

"Is that Styles? Give me the phone." There was a rustling sound, murmuring and loud music in the background and Harry took the phone from his ear to look at the screen, wondering if the call was still connected.

A short time passed and he had his answer when he clearly heard Louis' voice. "Come here man, don't be a loner." He laughed in his distinctive accent and Harry shook his head. 

"Harry?" Now it was Niall again. 

"Yeah?" Harry let him know that he was still on the phone. 

"Well, listen mate, I know what today has meant to you and I know you feel like crap. But I think you shouldn't be alone and I also think that a little distraction will do you good. Come on, it's us. You know us. And if it gets too much for you, I'll walk you home. Promise?" His Irish accent was prominent as ever, as it always was when he had been drinking alcohol, and Harry couldn't help but admit to himself that he couldn't stay in this house any longer.

"You promise?" He asked his best friend again.

"Virtual pinky promise." And Harry grinned.

"I'm on my way." He said spontaneously and was already on his way to the door. Niall said that he couldn't wait and ended the conversation shortly afterwards.

Harry put on his shoes, closed his coat and put on his hat before going to his car. In fact, quite a bit of snow had fallen and he stopped briefly in the driveway and took it all in.

He tilted his head back and felt small snowflakes gently land on his face, where they melted on his warm skin. He inhaled deeply and breathed in the cool winter air and fresh snow.

He stood there with his eyes closed and suddenly he heard her voice. Her laughter so clear, as if she were standing next to him. And it hurt as much as it felt good. The curly haired man sent a short prayer to whoever was up there and wished for nothing more than his sister back.

When he was back in the present and sure that he was alone and Gemma wasn't with him, he wiped the tears from his cheeks that had escaped unnoticed and made his way to the car.

He only had one glass of wine during dinner, so he could drive without feeling guilty. The drive wasn't long, but long enough to sort out his thoughts.

The streets were empty and lights were on in almost every house. Everywhere there were families sitting together with their loved ones, excitedly looking forward to Christmas and the New Year.

People with hopes and dreams, just like him. He shook his head. He could have fun in other ways. And he was sure that Gemma wouldn't have wanted him to spend the evening alone.

He reached the bar and parked his car in the first spot available. Locked it and made his way inside. When he stepped through the doors he was met with loud music and stuffy air. He was thankful he didn't brought his coat inside and instead left it in his car because he was already sweating even though he was only in there for a few minutes.

He searched the crowd for familiar faces and soon he spotted blonde hair. When he was sure that it was in fact Niall, he made his way over to the platform that held the sitting booths.

Nick, one of his closest friends and colleague as well noticed him first and waved him over. He smiled at the man and gave him a side hug before he let his eyes wander over the other men that were present. Niall of course, Ben, Peter, Xander and Louis and to his surprise even Zayn was there. He greeted them all until Louis and Zayn were the only ones left. He fist bumped Louis, already cringing on the inside about the gesture and then nodded to Zayn who only glared at him and looked away.

Well, okay then. He made another mentally note to find out what's going on with him.

Soon he had a drink in his hand and a babbling detective in front of him. It was then, that he remembered what day it was.

"Happy birthday." He said and clinked his glass with Louis' while the older man grinned at him.

He threw back the whole drink at once, feeling as if he had to catch up to the others.

He soon settled down in the booth between Nick and Louis. His glass was filled with some vodka that was in a cooler on the table and he just listened to the conversations going on around him.

A part of him was glad he came here, glad for the distraction. Another part wished he was in bed right now. Alone so he could pity himself.

He felt something on his thigh and looked down, seeing a hand there. When he looked up again he was already met with Nicks' gaze.

"Are you okay?" The man asked and Harry nodded, not feeling like saying much more. Just hoping he'd let it go. He wasn't here to talk, he was here to forget.

He quietly nodded and took another sip of his drink. Nick released his grip on his thigh and Harry couldn't help but breathed out relieved.

Hours passed and he was more than tipsy at this point. And it was then, that he felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned to his left, meeting Louis grinning expression.

"Wanna dance?" The older man slurred and before Harry could think Louis dragged him out off the booth and onto the dance floor.

The bass was pulsing through the floor, the heavy thrum of music vibrating in Harry's chest as the club lights flashed overhead, painting everything in dizzying reds and blues.

"Come on, Styles. I know those hips can move," A slow smirk, a cocky lift of his chin, an invitation in his eyes.

And then Louis' back was flush against Harry's chest, his body moving in time with the beat, with Harry, with the heat between them. Harry's hands were on his hips, gripping tight, feeling the flex of muscle beneath his fingertips as Louis rolled against him.

It was dangerous. It was reckless.

It was everything Harry shouldn't be doing.

But he was a little drunk. And Louis was right there, pressed against him, head tilted back just enough that Harry could see the sliver of his throat, the way it bobbed when he swallowed, the way his lips parted with a breathy exhale when Harry's fingers dug in a little harder.

"Fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his forehead pressing against the back of Louis' shoulder. He didn't know if Louis heard him over the music, but Louis pushed back harder, grinding against Harry's hips in a way that sent a shudder down his spine.

Louis turned his head slightly, close enough that his lips nearly brushed Harry's jaw. "I know you could dance, Styles."

Harry huffed out a laugh, but it was tight, strained. "I don't."

Louis smirked, his hands reaching back, fingers skimming over Harry's thighs, curling around the backs of his knees, pulling him even closer. "Seems like you're doing just fine to me."

Harry's grip tightened. He was losing himself in it, in the heat of it all, in the alcohol buzzing through his veins, in the feel of Louis against him, solid and warm and so fucking tempting.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

They weren't supposed to be like this.

But God, he wanted him.

Louis' head tilted back again, exposing the curve of his throat, an unspoken dare in his posture. Harry's breath was ragged, his lips brushing against the shell of Louis' ear, and for a moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like to give in—to press his mouth against that pulse point, to feel Louis shudder against him for an entirely different reason.

But then reality crept in.

The fact that this was Louis.

Louis, who had taken his job. Louis, who had lied to him. Louis, who made his blood boil and his pulse race in equal measure.

His eyes wandered around the club when he felt like he was being watched and quickly his gaze met Zayn's, who was staring intensely at the couple on the dance floor. Unreadable expression on his face. 

Harry quickly looked away, visibly confused by the whole situation. 

Harry exhaled sharply and pulled back, hands slipping from Louis' hips. He needed to stop. Needed air.

But Louis wasn't letting him go so easily.

Louis turned in his arms, eyes dark and unreadable under the neon lights. "Running away, Styles?"

Harry swallowed hard. His heart was pounding, his body betraying him. "I don't-" He shook his head. "We shouldn't."

Louis smirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. You keep saying that."

Harry didn't have an answer for that.

Because Louis was right.

But soon all he felt again was Louis' body pressed against his as he moved to the slow rhythm of the music. And then he just let it happen.

He put his hands on the smaller man's hips and pressed him closer. Louis reacted immediately and laid his head back against Harry's chest, his hot breath hitting his neck and goosebumps erupting on Harry's arms.

Everything felt so right, even though he had no idea what he was doing, his body seemed to know exactly what it wanted and how to move.

It wasn't long before he felt himself getting a little too invested in their closeness. Images of Louis being on top of him, moaning and gripping on to his shoulders as he fucked himself on Harry's cock.

He tried to stop it, after all they had agreed to just being friends. But he couldn't help himself, not when he knew how it was like to having Louis all to himself.

And Louis seemed to noticed it too. Because he suddenly was grinding back into Harry, his bum meeting his crotch and Harry's mouth escaped a low groan before he could bite his tongue to suppress it.

Louis quickly turned around, throwing his arms around Harry's neck and bringing his head down. His mouth was now close to Louis mouth when he heard the man whisper. "Let's get out of here." And then he pressed his crotch against Harry's.

Harry could feel Louis' arousal against him, and holy shit did he want him.

A small nod from Harry was all Louis needed as he grabbed Harry's hand and led him through the crowd of people on the dance floor.

Harry had no idea where they were going but he didn't care. He just knew he needed to have Louis to himself sooner than later. 

He didn't complain when Louis shoved him in the men's restroom, pulling him in the first stall, locking the door and pushing him up against the door.

Louis' mouth was on him before he could say something. 

Teeth were clashing, tongues fighting for dominance. It was as messy as it was erotic. And the fear of being caught, of people hearing them was only fueling Harry's desire. 

Louis dropped to his knees on the floor of the toilet stall and unbuckled Harry's belt. A quick glance up and a nod from Harry was all he needed and Harry's jeans and underwear hit the ground.

Harry sharply exhaled as the cold air hit his hot and throbbing cock and he had to bit on his tongue as he felt Louis' hand wrap around him. 

He threw his head back, hitting the door with it.

"Wanna taste you." Louis rasped and Harry wanted to cry.

Soon, all he felt was wet heat around his dick, taking nearly all of him down in one go, his knees buckled and he slapped his hand over his mouth as he knew he couldn't keep quiet.

His other hand gently tugged on Louis' hair, guiding him but never pushing. 

Time was irrelevant as their shared this intimate moment in the most inconvenient place but Harry knew it was embarassingly fast that he felt his release coming.

He warned Louis, giving him time to pull off but he did nothing like that. Instead he picked up his pace, fondling Harry's balls in his hand while his mouth worked relentlessy around his cock.

A squeeze and his cock hitting the back of Louis' throat, and he was done for. He wanted to scream and shout as he filled up Louis' mouth with his come, the other man eagerly lapping up everything, swallowing and moaning like it was the best meal he's ever tasted.

When there was nothing left, Louis quickly tucked him back in and was about to get up when Harry beat him to it and yanked him up by his shoulders. He wasted no time, clashing their mouths together and groaning at the taste of himself on Louis' tongue.

He could feel Louis on his thigh, still incredibly hard and Harry thought it must hurt by now. He shoved his hand down Louis' pants unceremoniously and began stroking him. They never once broke the kiss, it was all messy, tongue and spit as he pulled and squeezed on Louis' cock.

Louis moaned deeply into Harry's mouth, he felt him tensing and knew he was about to come. He used it to his advantage and grabbed some paper and soon Louis was spilling in his hand and the paper.

They stayed like this for what could've been hours, with Louis' head resting against Harry's chest and Harry's chin on top of Louis' head. Breathing together, calming down together.

It was only when they heard the door of the restroom being opened that they snapped out off their bubble.

Harry looked at Louis, not sure what to say or what to think. 

So he made another bad decision.

"That shouldn't have happened. We agreed to be friends. I'm sorry." He unlocked the door of the little stall the were in, stuck his head out to check his surroundings. When he was sure there was no one around he left the room just as quick as he got there.

He made his way over to their booth, finding the other lads still drinking and having fun. He was met with a questioning (or was it knowing?) look from Zayn but soon averted his eyes.

He grabbed Niall and told him that he'd leave. His best friend, unaware of what happened just nodded and said to be safe, promising to call him in the morning and Harry nodded. Waving to the group and trying to get out off this club as fast as possible.

What he didn't know was that there was someone watching him. Wondering what he did wrong to cause such a reaction.....

Chapter Text

Neither of them has spoken about the incident on Louis' birthday. Neither has acknowledged that something had happened and that it might be better to talk about it.

Instead, a dark cloud of unspoken words hovered over the two of them. A tension that everyone around them could feel.

Especially Niall.

He had tried again and again to talk to Harry, as he had long had an idea of ​​what was really going on between the two of them. Even if he didn't know exactly what. Thankfully, for everyone involved, it was very quiet over the holidays and everyone was able to enjoy a few days away from the station. Nevertheless, in the position the three were in, there was never any time off for them.

The autopsy of the dead woman was finished, but nothing could be found except for the obvious and already known facts. Whoever was responsible knew exactly how to leave no evidence. Or so they thought.

Louis called all the teams together again and once again pointed out how important it was to get results quickly. All investigators deployed should get as deep into the scene as possible and also as quickly as possible.

Harry was always there, he heard everything, he understood everything and he nodded in agreement, no matter what Tomlinson suggested. This often earned him a questioning look from his best friend, to which he just shrugged his shoulders.

Harry didn't know what to do... as if it wasn't hard enough, the universe had now thrown an detective who was as attractive as he was unbearable and a murder case at him.

Exactly what he needed.

And he rarely felt as useless in his job as he did at that time. He could no longer think, could no longer make decisions. So the easiest thing was just to nod and let Niall and Louis take the lead.

It was late afternoon when Harry got a call from Niall asking him to come to the office. Harry set off immediately, a bad feeling still deep inside him. Even when Niall assured him that there were no more deaths and that it wasn't directly related to Gemma.

So he found himself in his car parked in front of the police station, he noticed Niall's and Louis' cars and hurried in. His office was the meeting point as always and he hurried up the stairs and entered without knocking.

Why would he?

Both men turned their heads towards the door as Harry entered. Niall as always on the chair at the desk and Louis sprawled on the sofa.

Their eyes met and there it was again, that feeling of tension that washed through the whole room as soon as the two laid eyes on each other. Harry was the first to break eye contact and cleared his throat.

"Okay, what happened?" He sat down on his chair behind the desk. His eyes went to his cabinet and his first impulse was to pour himself a scotch.

No, that wasn't the solution.

He was stronger than that, although it was getting harder and harder not to give in. Of course he still drank when he was out with the boys, but he refused to drink in the middle of the day and while at work. That wasn't the solution to his problems and he needed to keep a clear head.

And thank God for Niall, because without saying anything he handed Harry a cup of steaming hot tea.

Harry took the the drink and thanked his best friend and partner.

Louis was the next to speak. "Well, we have news. In fact, very good news, or at least news that can help us a lot in this case." He sat up straight and folded his hands between his legs.

"We have already talked about you attending the next meeting and I know you don't want to - but Harry. With your father's New Year's gathering thing coming up. Maybe there's the key. And you are the only one who has access to one of these. None of our men could show up under any pretext. You, as your father's son, heir to his name, it would be easy for you and no one would bat an eyelid at your presence." He finished his suggestion and leaned back on the sofa.

Harry saw Niall's expectant look and the thoughts in his head went crazy. Deep down he knew that there was no way around it and that he would be accepted into the group at some point. His father had also asked him several times to accompany him so that he could earn his place.

But was that something he wanted? Definitely not.

Was it something that was expected of him? You can bet your arse on that.

"I'll do it." He said calmly.

"Harry come on, think of - WHAT?" 

"I'll do it." Harry shrugged and leaned back in his chair. Arms crossed over his chest looking between Niall and Louis with a smug grin on his face while both men stared at him kinda astonished.

"Just like that?" Niall asked.

"Yup." He popped the "p" and was met with a frowning Niall. And now it wasn't funny anymore.

What did they think of him? That he was some grumpy kid that cannot behave professionally and do something for the team?

"This is great," said Louis, sensing the mood, for some reason very sensitive to what Harry was feeling.

"We don't need to brief you, it works in our favor that you know exactly what to do and are the best at your job." Louis winked.

Harry blushed.

Niall gawked.

**

New Year's Eve.

The day of the gathering. And Harry was not looking forward to it.

When he told his father about his decision to take part in the next meeting the older man was beyond excited. He went on for hours about how proud he was that Harry finally wanted to contribute to the community.

When his eyes met his mother's, she was quick to smile and looked away.

**

The grand estate was suffocating.

Harry adjusted his cufflinks as he stepped into the opulent ballroom, where crystal chandeliers cast golden light over the sea of tuxedos. The air was thick with the scent of cigars, aged whiskey, and power - real power, the kind that made his skin crawl. The kind that came with secrets, money, and blood.

He forced a polite smile as he moved through the crowd, his stomach twisting with unease. This wasn't his world. It never had been, no matter how much his father wanted him to fall in line. But tonight, he had a role to play.

Desmond Styles' annual New Year's Eve gathering: an exclusive, invitation-only affair where some of the most influential men in the country gathered under the guise of business and celebration. In reality, it was a den of wolves, a place where deals were made behind closed doors, alliances were strengthened over expensive liquor, and sins were buried beneath tailored suits and well-practiced smiles.

Harry scanned the room, recognizing the familiar faces of the fathers of the missing girls. Richard Caldwell, Anthony Hughes, Philip Turner... Frank Carter. Men with power, wealth, and pristine reputations. On the surface, they were untouchable. But Harry knew better now. He knew there was filth beneath their polished exteriors.

He reached the bar, ordering a whiskey neat. He needed something to steady himself.

"Harry," a voice drawled behind him. He turned to find Richard Caldwell standing there, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Didn't think we'd see you here tonight."

Harry forced a tight-lipped smile, raising his glass in mock cheer. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Caldwell chuckled, his eyes sharp. "Your father must be proud. Carrying on the family name, finally seeing things our way."

Harry bit back the urge to snap at him, to tell him he'd rather rot than become one of them. Instead, he kept his expression neutral, taking a slow sip of his drink. "Yeah. Something like that."

A hand clapped his shoulder, and Harry turned to face his father. Desmond looked as polished as ever, his tailored suit crisp, his graying hair perfectly styled. But Harry could see it, the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his smile never quite reached his eyes.

"There's someone I'd like you to meet." Desmond said, guiding him toward a corner of the room where a small group of men stood in conversation.

Harry's pulse quickened as he recognized them. These were the real players, the men who had enough influence to make people disappear without a trace.

He schooled his features into something unreadable as his father introduced him, shaking hands with men whose names alone carried weight in every financial, political, and legal sector imaginable. They spoke in riddles, in hushed tones, their conversations laced with hidden meanings that Harry struggled to decipher.

He listened, nodded at the right moments, pretending to belong while his skin crawled with every word exchanged. They spoke about investments, political leverage. And then, between sips of hundred-year-old whiskey and indulgent chuckles, they mentioned the girls.

"Tragic, really," Philip Turner mused, swirling his glass. "The way the world works these days. So much danger out there for young women."

Richard Caldwell exhaled a cloud of cigar smoke. "Indeed. My wife is still beside herself. Poor Emily... I keep telling her we're doing everything we can."

"Such a shame," Desmond added, voice laced with feigned concern. "It's hard to trust anyone these days. Even the people closest to us."

Harry's grip on his glass tightened. It was all bullshit. All of it.

They weren't grieving. They were covering their tracks?

He wanted to push, to demand answers, to throw his drink in his father's face and tell them he knew. But he had to be smart. He had to be patient.

So he played along, offering murmurs of agreement, pretending he was just another privileged son following in his father's footsteps.

But then..

A hushed conversation caught his attention.

Harry turned slightly, his ears tuning in to the whispered exchange between his father and another man.

"- was a perfect excuse," The man was saying. "She suspects nothing?"

Desmond chuckled, low and smug. "Of course not. She's blind to it. Too busy with her charities to notice where my attention really is."

Harry's stomach twisted.

His mother?

They were talking about his mother.

Was he cheating on his mum? Clearly, that couldn't be it. 

Harry felt his entire body go cold.

He didn't know why it shocked him. His father had never been a good man, but his parents had been together for decades. Through everything. And now, Desmond was laughing about his apparent infidelity like it was some kind of fucking joke.

It made Harry sick.

He turned away, downing the rest of his drink in one gulp. He needed to get out of there before he did something reckless, before he shattered the glass in his hand or put his fist through the nearest wall.

It was to the point where everything was getting fuzzy and buzzing. And he heard the conversations, he heard the words, helpful. But somehow he felt awfully drunk now. 

Remember.

Concentrate Harry.

Prostitutes. Who was that? Don't tell my wife. Whose wife? The poor girls. What girls?

He stumbled out of the estate, phone in hand. "Get me out of here."

Chapter Text

Louis

Well, this is not how Louis expected his New Year's Eve to be, as he drove through the dark and empty streets.

But right now he thanked whatever gut feeling it was that he had, that he decided not to drink until Harry would've made it to the party.

As it turned out, that was the best idea he had since he received the text from the younger detective. Louis didn't even think for a second, he went straight to his car and drove off.

"Got you." He texted back and pocketed his phone in his trousers.

When he got to the location, Harry was already standing outside, leaning against the wall, head hanging down. Louis drove up to him and at the sound of an enginge, Harry looked up. When his eyes met Louis and recognized him, he smiled widely. And fuck, that smile.

Harry pushed himself off the wall and came to the car. Staggering slightly, his enormously long legs made him look like a baby deer taking its first steps.

Louis leaned over and opened the passenger door from the inside. And shortly afterwards Harry dropped into the seat.

"Thanks for rescuing me." The words came out awfully slurred and Louis was met with an enormous scent of alcohol. He furrowed bis brows, Harry wasn't supposed to get drunk - especially not this drunk.

"Don't worry. What happened in there and why are you that drunk?" Louis couldn't help but check the seatbelt and once he was sure that Harry was securely buckled in he pulled into first gear and drove off.

"Just take me home please." Harry mumbled and Louis furrowed his brows. They were supposed to go on a party. Supposed to celebrate the New Year with their friends and colleagues. So what the fuck happened that Harry was in this state wanting to go home.

"Of course." Was all he said before pulled the indicator to go left. That seemed to catch Harry's attention, even in the state he was in.

"Oh uh - I thought .. I mean ... nevermind." He picked at his cuticles, turning his head and looking out the window as the street lights passing by them.

"What? Tell me, Haz." Haz. He didn't meant to call him that, it just slipped out and it felt so right. He saw Harry tensing up in the seat next to him. His breath hitched and he dropped his hands in his lap.

"I don't - I don't want to go home home. I don't want to be alone and I don't - forget it okay? It was dumb and childish. I know you want to go back to the party and I'm sorry for even asking you to pick me up. It was dumb." This was a whole fucking speech and Louis was slightly impressed by Harry's ability to form such sentences even in the state he was in.

"You want me to take you to my house?" Please say yes.

"You don't have to." 

"I want to."

"You do?" YES.

Silence.

What Harry didn't notice was that Louis has turned off the indicator light before Harry was able to finish his sentence.

"Harry, love. Wake up." Louis whispered when they reached his house. Harry fell asleep a few minutes into the ride and it wasn't even a long trip back to Louis' house.

Louis couldn't blame him. Harry seemed to have had a rough night so far.

Louis watched the man. His eyes closed, lashes dark and long, touching his cheeks. A soft layer of sweat on his skin let his face shine in the faint light of the street lamps. He really was beyond beautiful, astonishingly precious - something Louis couldn't deny no matter how badly he wanted to.

There was single lock of dark hair hanging over his forehead and Louis gently brushed it out off his face.

The younger man scrunched his nose and moved in his seat. Louis smiled.

"Hello there." He whispered when Harry opened his eyes. He looked at him for a moment before he awkwardly stretched his long limbs.

"Where are we?"

"At my house."

"I didn't expect you to take me with you." It was soft, almost shy. And he looked so young, so insecure and so vulnerable. 

What was he looking for?Love? Security? Recognition? Friendship? 

Whatever it was, it was at this moment that Louis vowed to himself that he would give this man whatever he wanted without the blink of an eye.

Because it was in this moment that he realised that Harry deserved the world - and that he was royally fucked. 

Because they're just friends.

Right?

**

HARRY

He was lost for a moment, desoriented. Until he realised where he was. In Louis' car. And the other man was looking at him with a soft smile.

"Well, I told you I would. Come on then? I can carry you if you're too tired?" And oh, could this man get any more perfect? He shook his head, both in response and in disbelief.

"No. I can walk." Louis nodded and let him get out. In silence they made their up to the front door. Harry had a hard time walking straight, he couldn't even remember drinking that much. 

"Just - do at you please at this point." Louis chuckled when he unlocked the door and waited for Harry to step inside.

Harry leaned forward to take off his shoes when he lost balance and stumbled. He already saw himself faceplanting the floor but -

"Easy there." He felt two strong arms around his hips, saving him from the embarassment of a broken nose or concussion.

"Sorry. I don't know what's wrong." Harry mumbled, now getting out off his shoes with the help of Louis. 

"It's okay. Is there anything you need?" Harry could still see his lips moving and watched him without saying anything. What could he say? Once again he found himself with Louis, once again he had asked Louis for help. Once again it was only Louis who came to his mind when he found himself in a hopeless situation. Of course he could have called Niall, even his mother or Liam or almost any of his colleagues. But his first thought, even in his intoxicated state, was the man with the cheekbones and blue eyes.

"Harry?" With that he snapped out off it. Louis was standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest and a grin on his lips. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked if you were feeling better and if you wanted to talk about what happened at the meeting? You don't have to, I'm not pressuring you. You can just go to sleep and we'll talk about it with Niall tomorrow." He took a deep breath and Harry wanted to answer, but didn't get the chance because Louis continued straight away.

"Uh - we can watch TV or..." 

"I just want to sleep if that's okay." He didn't look up, afraid to what he saw, afraid of rejection.

"Sure, you can sleep on the couch or in the guest room. I'll get it ready for you." Louis was about to run off when Harry grabbed his hand. He turned around and looked at their hands before back up to Harry.

"Can we sleep in your bed?" He saw how Louis swallowed, he looked at the floor, to the side, anywhere but into Harry's eyes. And Harry got the message, he let go of his hand and scratched the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate. Friends and all, I know. I'll take the sofa and we'll talk tomorrow."

"No, Harry, wait. Of course you can sleep with me and - we can talk about it or not. But please, sleep with me." Harry grinned smugly at the way Louis worded things and when Louis seemed to realise that too, an adorable blush appeared on his cheeks.

"That's not what I meant - of course. I just want you to sleep with me - or in my bed. Like, only sleeping. Oh god this is embarrassing." This was so not Louis like and Harry found it even more endearing.

"Not that it was not nice sleeping with you - it was great, amazing even but -"

"Lou, just stop. I get it okay? Can we just go to bed now?" Harry asked with a fond smile on his lips, already feeling the exhaustion taking over him and Louis only nodded. Probably glad to not have to say anything more.

They both stood in front of the sink in Louis bathroom, toothbrushes in their mouths with their eyes locked in the mirror.

And this felt too good, too domestic even. So he hurriedly spit out the toothpaste and rinsed his mouth. He used the spare towel Louis gave him and dried his face before he made his way quickly to the bed.

He slipped under the covers in his boxer briefs and a fluffy sweater Louis gave him because he was feeling extraordinarily cold tonight and he didn't expect any cuddling.

It was then, when he laid his head on the cool but fluffy pillow that he felt the tiredness washing over him and he closed his eyes. Even if the wanted to say something, maybe even talk about what had happened at the meeting, he had no chance. And his body betrayed him when he fell asleep just as he felt a weight on the bed next to him.

Chapter Text

HARRY

The morning light crept softly through the curtains, painting golden streaks over tangled sheets and bare skin. Harry stirred, his body heavy with exhaustion, his mind fogged with the remnants of whiskey, smoke, and the weight of last night's revelations. For a moment, he stayed still, letting reality settle around him, thick and inescapable.

Then, he felt it. The warmth beside him.

Louis.

Harry's breath caught in his throat as he turned his head, his heart stuttering at the sight before him.

Louis lay on his side, tousled and still, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. The soft morning light made him look almost unreal - his features bathed in gold, lips parted slightly, hair an unruly mess against the pillow. He was watching Harry, quiet and intense, blue eyes tracing over his face like he was trying to decipher something unspoken.

Neither of them said anything. There was no need to.

Something had shifted between them.

The air between them felt heavier, charged with something neither of them had the courage to name just yet. But it was there. Lingering between glances, in the space between their bodies, in the way neither of them looked away.

Harry swallowed thickly, feeling the weight of everything settle in his chest. He had ruined last night. He had ruined Louis' night. His New Year's Eve.

And suddenly he felt worse. He had ruined Louis' evening. A night where people want to party wildly, have fun, drink. Welcome the New Year and kiss. And he had taken all of that away from Louis. What was particularly hard for him to stomach, however, was the thought that Louis had kissed someone at midnight. Someone who wasn't Harry. 

He had to stop thinking about that immediately. After all, they were friends. Just friends and partners, yes, he never got tired of saying that. But maybe at that point it was more of an attempt to convince himself of that. Because deep down there was the feeling that it was more than just a friendship. And that feeling was reinforced when he woke up next to Louis.

His fingers twitched against the sheets, guilt pressing against his ribs. "I- " he started, but Louis shook his head before he could even form the apology.

"I wanted it to be you," Louis said, voice hoarse from sleep.

Harry blinked, frowning slightly. "What?"

Louis exhaled softly, shifting just a little closer. "My New Year's kiss," he murmured. "I wanted it to be you."

Harry's throat went dry.

For a long moment, they just stared at each other, the silence stretching between them, thick with something unspoken. Harry felt it like a pulse beneath his skin, a slow, creeping realization that settled deep in his bones. There was no one else. Not anymore.

Then, before he could talk himself out of it, before doubt could creep in and ruin the moment, he reached for Louis.

Louis met him halfway.

Their lips brushed, tentative at first, a quiet understanding passing between them before Louis tilted his head and deepened the kiss. It was slow, warm, unhurried. A whisper of something fragile but certain. Harry exhaled against Louis' mouth, feeling something loosen inside him, something he had held back for far too long.

Louis' fingers found his jaw, thumb tracing along the stubble there, grounding him. Harry sighed into the kiss, letting himself melt into it, into him.

When they finally pulled back, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling.

Louis was the first to speak, voice barely above a whisper. "We can't keep pretending, can we?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

A beat of silence. Then..

"I want more," Louis admitted, his voice quiet but sure.

Harry felt his heart stutter, his chest tightening with something he wasn't sure he had ever felt before. He searched Louis' eyes, finding nothing but sincerity there, nothing but truth.

He swallowed. "Me too."

Louis' lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "Then let's stop running from it."

Harry closed his eyes briefly, nodding, exhaling shakily before pressing one last lingering kiss to Louis' lips.

And just like that, something fragile, something beautiful, finally settled into place. 

"Happy new year." Louis murmured against his lips when they reluctantly pulled away.

And Harry smiled.

"Happy new year."

***

They stayed like this for quite some time, tangled under the sheets, their foreheads almost touching. Just bathing in a comfortable sillence.

Harry couldn't stop his thougts. How did they get into this situation so quickly? It felt like yesterday when Louis came into Harry's office for the first time. Of course, Harry was immediately attracted to Louis, purely from his looks. Maybe that was also the reason why he tried to hate the new addition to the team and pushed him away. In the end, he had to give in to the attraction. Things like that happen, of course. People have sex with people they don't exactly like just out of attraction right? Right! Angry sex is a thing too.

And now, there's more to it. He's more than attracted to Louis. He could see himself wakin up next to him every morning, cuddling on the couch, late breakfast on the weekends. He wanted it all, the secrets, the good and the bad. He wanted to know everything about him. 

But still, there was this feeling that it all could be just a dream, a set up. And he will end up with a broken heart. And that would be unfortunate because he could definitely fall for him. Louis is exactly the type of man Harry would fall for.

With this piercing blue eyes. Sharp cheekbones and small frame that fits perfectly into Harry. His soft chestnut brown hair. And that ass. Respectfully spoken. But God knew what he was doing when he made a man with an ass like that gay.

Well shit.

Harry shifted a bit, bringing some distance between their bodies as he felt himself slowly growing hard in his boxers. Too late as it seemed, because he saw a smug grin appearing on Louis' face when he did so.

And finally, after what felt like an eternity, Louis was the first one to break the silence.

His voice was a bit strained, only adding to the growing situation in Harry's pants.

"I'm sorry if this is inappropriate. And I really think we need to speak about it but - right now.. I really wanna fuck you."

Harry's dick twitched, can you blame him?

"Go on then. Fuck me."

And apparently he didn't have to say that twice, because he was soon trapped under Louis' body.

Hot lips attacking his own, he had a hard time keeping up with what was happening. He felt the other man's tongue brushing against his bottom lip and opened his mouth. Harry let out a small moan as Louis explored his mouth, their tongues soon fighting for dominance. Each brush of them sending a jolt right down to Harry's crotch.

He opened his legs and Louis fitted perfectly between them. The new position now allowed them to feel each other's erections, leaving them both groaning and throbbing for more.

Harry wrapped his legs around Louis' waist and pulled him closer, their dicks rubbing against each other, releasing some of the quickly built tension but not enough.

When Louis began to move his hips against him in steady rhythm, their kisses got hot and messy. Panting in each others mouths, silently begging for more.

Harry ran his hand through Louis' hair and grabbed the roots at the back of his neck.

"Please." He tugged and caused the other man to moan deeply. Louis obliged wordlessly and let his mouth wander down Harry's neck, where he nibbled and sucked for a while, leaving Harry a panting mess already.

He worked his way down the younger man's body, leaving a trail of wet kisses. Paying extra attention to his nipples and Harry wanted to cry out loud at the sensation. His dick now leaking pre come, as he felt a wet spot in his boxers.

Finally, finally Louis reached where Harry wanted- no needed him the most. And he placed a few kisses along his happy trail before he carefully lifted the waistband of his boxers to roll them over his hips off of his body. Harry happily let him and sighed contentedly when his cock was finally freed from the confinement.

He watched as Louis licked his lips, eyes locked on Harry's swollen red dick.

And before he could say or think anything Louis swallowed him down whole. Fucking hell, he was barely holding on.

When he felt his tip hit the back of his throat and Louis swallowing around him, it took all of it not to come right on the spot.

"Fuck. God, Louis. Jesus. I - please." He tried to wriggle away.

With a slurp Louis disconnected from Harry's cock. A string of saliva still between Louis' lip and Harry's cock. 

He looked up at Harry from under his lashes, his lips swollen. "What? What do you want me to do?"

"Fuck me. God, Lou, please fuck me." His tone was whiny but he didn't care, he needed Louis, and now.

"As you wish." He crawled up Harry's body, never breaking eye contact until he was able to lean down and kiss the younger man.

Harry moaned as he could taste a bit of his precome on Louis' tongue.

This felt like so much more than just sex. So much more than what they had before. 

Their hard lengths rubbing together as they kissed, rutting against each other like horny teenagers. Not getting enough of feeling every bit of skin on skin. 

"Lou, please.." He whined and Louis got the hint as he leaned over Harry and reached for the drawer where he grabbed a condom and the lube.

He took the bottle and squirted a generous amount of the clear liquid on his fingers. Harry watched mesmerised, opening his legs in anticipation when Louis made himself comfortable between them. They held eye contact as Louis used his thumb to gently rub around Harry's hole.

Instinctively he clenched when Louis pushed his finger past his ring of muscles but soon relaxed as the comfortable feeling of it all set in. He groaned deeply and let his head fall back, no longer able to hold it up as much as he'd loved to watch Louis.

He slowly worked on opening him up, exchanging his thumb against his pointer and middle finger. Harry was barely holding it together, fearing that once Louis actually entered him, it'd be over within seconds.

Harry lifted his head as he felt Louis adjusting his fingers to reach a slightly different angle and they made eye contact just as Louis hit his prostrate and Harry couldn't help but scream out in pleasure.

"Oh - my fuck. Lou, god. Right there - oh fuck don't stop. Don't you stop." He moaned and pressed himself back on Louis fingers.

Louis used his other hand to hold him in place while he continuously hit Harry's spot.

"Shit. Okay. I'm ready." Harry panted and tried to wriggle away from Louis.

"Lou. Stop it. Please. I'm gonna come. Want you in me. Wanna come with you inside me." He tried to get away before it was too late and Louis obliged and pulled his fingers out.

"Shhh. I've got you." Louis rasped and the curly haired man watched as Louis took one of the condoms and ripped open the foil. He rolled it over his own hard dick expertly and gave himself a few quick strokes, spreading the lube that was still on his hands.

Harry knew they didn't need more lube, Louis already used enough on him and he was perfectly prepared by his lover.

"Are you sure you want this?" Louis asked as he positioned himself at Harry's entrance, lining his dick up between his cheeks. And in this moment, of course he was sure. He feared he never wanted anything more than this right now. But that was not something he could say, wasn't it?

"Yes. Please, god, fuck me." He parted his legs even more.

And finally he felt Louis tip against him, breaching his tight hole just right as he slowly and carefully pushed in.

Both men moaned in unison as the feeling of being connected in the most intimate way washed over them. Neither of them breaking eye contact, open mouthed, they tried to control their breathing.

It was nearly excruciating, the way Louis entered him so painfully slowly, inch by inch Harry had no other choice but to wait for his impressive girth to fill him completely.

"Fucking hell, you're fucking tight."

"Holy shit." Voices mingled as Louis finally bottomed out and stayed like this for a while, giving both much needed time to adjust to this overwhelming feeling.

Why it felt like this was beyond Harry. They had sex before and it wasn't nearly as mind blowing as this time. He felt just so full of everything.

"Move." He whispered and buried one hand in Louis hair and the other on his hip as the latter leaned over to attach their lips and started moving in and out.

Soon the room was filled with sinful noises, breathy moans and skin slapping, deep groans and swearing.

Louis set a steady pace and Harry knew he wouldn't last, his dick was throbbing where it rested against his stomach, angry red and continuously leaking on his tummy. As if Louis read his mind he grabbed his neglected cock and started pumping in the same rhythm as his thrusts.

"Just like that." He whined and scratched his nails down Louis back. The older man threw his head back and landed a particularly hard thrust, right against Harry's prostate.

Harry screamed, clenching his eyes shut and clamping his legs around Louis' hip in an attempt to get him closer.

Louis shifted slightly, now on his knees he grabbed Harry's hips and started a new pace.

"Oh god. So fucking tight. So good for me." Louis panted as he pounded restlessly into Harry. Sweat building on his forehead, dripping down onto Harry. 

"I'm gonna come." Harry whimpered, throwing his head back as he felt the tingling sensation in his lower abdomen. He new he was close. How he didn't finish yet was a miracle, he just didn't want it to end yet.

"M-me too. God. Fuck." And that was all Harry needed to hear as he felt his orgasm hitting him without warning.

He spilled between them, long spurts of come painting his lower body and Louis hand that still had a firm grip on his dick.

"Shit. Oh fuck me." He heard Louis scream and the other man stilled his movement and filled the condom with his load.

They held onto each other as they experienced finishing together, both too stunned and too out of it.

Louis was incredible though, holding Harry through all of it until both of them had spilled their last drop.

They stayed like this for a couple of minutes until Louis pulled out, he took off the condom tied it and hopped off the bed to throw it into a bin.

Harry watched as he made his way over to his en-suite and since he left the door open he watched him grabbing and wetting a towel, he then came back over and Harry wanted to melt as he helped him clean up the mess on his stomach.

"You - I can do it myself." He said and tried to grab the towel out off Louis' grip, he shook his head. He finished his job of cleaning him and chucked the towel away.

"Well, I better go then." Harry cleared his throat and tried to get off the bed. 

"Stay. Okay? This is probably one of the maturest things I'll ever say but stay. Let's cuddle for a bit and talk. I think we need that."

Harry watched as Louis' cheeks blushed adorably when he got back under the covers.

Both still naked, but oh so comfortable. Fitting perfectly together. 

It was fucking amazing. It felt right.

Was it supposed to feel right?

Or was this, whatever it was, supposed to burn into ashes before it even started?

Well, only time could  tell.

Chapter Text

Harry didn't know how much time had passed. They still laid in each other's arms, enjoying the warmth and the blissful state both of them still were in.

It was still the same day though, still New Year's and never had Harry thought that it would end like this after all that happened the night before.

When he laid there, in Louis' bed and in his arms, listening to their breathing, he wondered how he ended up there. And how they'd get to this in the span of a few months.

But above all he wondered why it felt so good. And if it's supposed to feel like that, if he's allowed to. He's tired of thinking like that but they're colleagues and he softly chuckled to himself, if someone gave him a penny for every time he thought like that he - well he wouldn't be rich but maybe he could go for a really fancy ice cream.

"Want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours?" He heard Louis say from behind him, his voice vibrating against his back.

"What do you mean?" He's post sex headed and in the arms of Louis fucking Tomlinson. He needed some time to process all this.

"I can practically hear your brain working in there." Harry chuckled when he felt little taps at the back of his head. Shortly after he felt a hand running through his hair, softly combing through the knots that formed there. He hummed and pushed himself further back into Louis. And yes, that felt oddly domestic. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. But he wasn't able to think about it because Louis spoke again.

"It's really loud, you know?" Harry just hummed, knowing he had to say something but feeling way too comfortable to do anything except existing.

"What are we doing?" And oh my, straight forward it is. Seemed like his mouth decided to act without asking his brain.

Louis stilled his hand and Harry shut his eyes, afraid of what's to come.

"Uh, right now? I think it's called cuddling." There he was, typically Louis. And Harry relaxed into him. That was exactly what he needed. Even though they're supposed to have a serious conversation, Louis' ease made it all so much more comfortable.

Still, Harry groaned.

"Come on. You know what I mean." He said and waited for an answer. It was quiet for some time and he would be concerned by now if it wasn't for Louis still softly drawing circles over his back.

"I don't really know, Harry. This is all so new to me." He said finally and Harry furrowed his brows. What was new to him?

"What do you mean?" There were a few possible answers going through Harry's brain, some of them better than the others.

"I don't do this." He said and Harry groaned, why couldn't he just say what he wanted to say instead of speaking like this. Not to mention that it freaked the shit out of Harry.

"Louis, please. Can you just say it?" He didn't care that it came out like begging, he just wanted him to answer. Louis hand stopped moving on Harry's back and surely that couldn't be a good thing. Harry felt his heartbeat picking up, already nervous about what was to come.

He tried to see where he left his clothes so he wouldn't have to search for them after Louis finally kicked him out. The last thing he needed was to search for his clothes naked after being told to leave. That he was a mistake, that this was a mistake and Louis was just decent enough not to kick him out immediately.

He should've known. It was too good to be true.

They just don't fit and, above all, they're partners on job and Louis was his boss in some way. Funny, when they first had sex it was the other way around. Well, that probably wasn't the right time to think about it. How did he even come up with that? Sometimes Harry wondered if his brain worked differently than normal people's. See, that's what he meant. Wasn't he just wondering what Louis would say to him?

Back to the topic. He could see his dress pants from where he was lying and hoped his underwear was somewhere there too. His shirt was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn't so bad. The most important thing was the pants. There was nothing worse than having your most private part hanging out in the open after being turned down and kicked out.

"I only have one night stands, I don't spend the nights, I don't cuddle and I don't do it a second time with the same person," He said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. And Harry's blood froze in his veins.

What was that supposed to mean? Louis had just told him that he didn't usually do anything they were doing up to that moment. So was Harry right? Louis was only too polite to tell him that he was not interested. He had probably only slept with Harry out of pity. No wonder, his behavior yesterday was really pitiful.

But what now? He couldn't answer that himself. What was he hoping for anyway? All this time he had been thinking about what Louis would say. But not once had he seriously thought about what he expected. Did he even want more than casual? Well, yes, he already knew that. But would it be better if these two incidents remained exceptions?

Deep down he knew that it felt too good to just stop. And yes, it was only the second time. But also, it was only the second time. That has to mean something right? Maybe not. Who knows, Harry certainly not.

And yes, he's kinda on the same page with Louis. Except from Cara, he never slept with the same person twice. That only brought him heartbreak in the past. Apparently he's just not cut out for relationships. Because if he loved, he did it unconditionally.

"Are you still with me?" A voice brought him out off his thoughts. And he tried to focus on the conversation they just had or more like just started. He shifted his position, not exactly wanting to look him in the eyes but figuring it was the right thing to do when talking such important topics.

"Sure, sorry. Got lost in my head for a second." Harry said with a low chuckle, trying to diffuse some of the built up tension in the room and watched as Louis just pulled up one eyebrow.

 Brilliant.

"Okay." And what?

"Okay?" Harry asked after there was nothing in response coming from Louis.

"I'm sorry, this is just new to me, as I said. Because, here we are, for a second time. And I know we move fucking fast but I kind of don't want it to be the last time. And I think we can make it work between our job and all. Just, something casual? And then we'll see where we go from here? Only time can tell I guess." Louis said with a nervous smile, and Harry tried to replay the words in his head.

He couldn't deny the way his stomach dropped when Louis said he wanted something casual. He had a different idea of "more" as it seemed.

Why is this all so fucking confusing? Hadn't they just talked about both wanting more? 

And -

"Haz?" Oh he did it again. Thankfully he hadn't said anything yet. He slowly turned his head further so that their eyes met. Harry saw something indescribable behind Louis blue ones, and he worried if he ruined it before it even started.

Oh get your shit together, Styles. Nothing started yet.

There was a clicking sound and he saw Louis snapping his fingers right in front of his face. Oh god, he did it again. Why does is brain always do this in situations like this?

"You're a weird one, Styles." He slowly shook his head and watched Harry intently before he continued.

"Louis." His voice came out soft, a whisper more than anything and he felt all warm and fuzzy in his tummy as Louis' eyes met his own.

There was something so calming yet so exciting in those blue eyes and he knew that if he'd let himself he'd get lost in them forever.

Louis shifted a bit on the bed, patting the blanket next to him, smoothing out wrinkles that weren't there.

"So, what exactly are we now?" He asked timidly and Harry thought for a moment.

"I don't know, Lou. As you said, we should keep it casual for a start. Everything else could be just a nice addition?" He tried to sound not to hopeful or desperate but at the same time he wanted to make sure that he don't want to stop at all - whatever it was that they were doing. And even if it hurt him, because he really wanted more.

The look on Louis face was unreadable. There were a bunch of emotions flashing behind his eyes and Harry would do anything to be able to know what it meant. But they weren't there .. yet.

"Sure. Let's do that." He smiled but something was off. Harry tried not to dwell on it, probably just reading too much into it as always.

Louis cleared his throat then. "What about you tell me about yesterday then? The meeting and all. Let's get into it so we can make progress with the case?" He clapped his hands together and pulled the blanket off of him, revealing his naked body and reminding Harry of the fact that he, too, was still butt naked.

"Y-yeah." He stuttered, heat rushing to his cheeks as Louis threw his briefs at him.

Normally, he had no problem with being naked as he always felt confident in his body. But this whole thing with Louis was just so different and he couldn't put a finger on it. So he quickly pulled his underwear on, watching Louis doing the same.

"I'll make us some tea. We can stay here if you're comfortable with it?" He asked and Harry swore there was a slight tone of hope in his question.

The younger man smiled and nodded and watched as Louis turned around with a smile on his lips.

What did he get himself into?

Chapter Text

"That's fucked up." Louis said and took a sip of his tea that would be cold by now.

They both sat in said man's bed since the older man decided to make them tea and talk about what happened at the meeting.

It was awkward at first, Harry not knowing how to behave at all. But it soon turned out Louis was easy company. Not easy in a derogatory way, but just nice to be around.

So Louis listened intently as Harry gave him a review of the night. Unfortunately, it wasn't as helpful as they had hoped when they first decided that Harry would attend.

They already knew that most of the men were related to the missing women. That's why the attention was focused on the group. Of course, people immediately look for a connection. A connection that has not yet been made. 

And of course, all the men were wealthy and held leading positions and influence in society. But nothing could be proven against anyone. Which is why the focus was lost. Until the first murder. And until the first piece of evidence, a tangible warning.

So yes, they'd hoped to get anything at all. But all that they've got is the realisation that almost all of the men were cheating on their wives. Including Harry's own dad, what the latter hadn't noticed that his son found out, and what led to Harry's disastrous alcohol consumption.

But other than that? Nothing. Just a bunch of disgusting men in their fifties and sixties who make a name for themselves with their money and use their social status as a free pass.

Pretty harmless, although morally more than reprehensible.

"It really is. And it was all in vain. How am I supposed to face my parents now? Knowing full well that my father is cheating on my mother. My mother, the most loving soul on earth, who has always cared for her family selflessly. What more can she endure?"

Harry let his head fall, a few brown curls falling in front of his forehead. And he flinched when he felt a hand. And he looked up when Louis tucked the strand behind his ear. A sympathetic smile on his lips, but not pitying in the least.

"It's not your place to tell her, Harry. That's not your job. They're your parents, and your father should never have put you in that position -" but Harry interrupted him before he could continue.

"But he couldn't have known that I would find out." Despite everything, he tried to defend his father, for he didn't even know why.

"Harry. Look at me." Louis continued, and Harry did just that. "Your father knew exactly what could happen if he brought you into his inner circle. And he took the risk. He should've never brought you in this situation. I know that you want to tell your mum, but you have to talk to him first. Maybe - maybe it was a misunterstanding?" He explained slowly and Harry knew he was right.

The whole situation just seemed so hopeless. Harry always knew that he had grown up privileged. A - so to speak - perfect family, parents who cared, a good education, supportive in every way, carefree and not having to worry over money.

An excellent education even, one that led him to an exceptionally successful job.

But what good was all this when it ultimately came down to the well-being of those he loved?

His sister kidnapped, possibly already dead. His mother, who is grieving for a child, cheated on by her own husband. And Harry himself, the biggest disappointment. He practically lost his job because he wasn't good enough and preferred to drown his sorrows in alcohol rather than face them.

"Harry?" A gentle voice broke through his thoughts. And he remembered that he was not alone. Otherwise he would never have let the tears flow.

"I'm sorry." Harry sniffled and wiped a hand over his eyes and nose, smearing some snot in the process. He couldn't care less.

"I don't know of anything you would've to apologise for." He said with a gentle voice. Not a trace of insincerity. Harry watched the man in front of him for a couple of seconds. His blue eyes, those cheekbones and the messy fringe that always seemed to be as much out of place as it was just perfectly in place.

"I know. Sorry, that was very unprofessional." He cleared his throat and placed the empty mug on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

It was time to go, he knew that. His time here was long over. They talked over what happened last night and that just was it. There was no reason for him to stay longer that he already had.

"Well, thank you for the tea and uh for last night-" He cringed internally. "Thank you for listening. We should talk to Niall and the team soon. Make some effort." He avoided Louis eyes, even though he felt them burning on his skin as he peeled the blanket off of him. He hurriedly collected all his remaining clothes and stumbled across the room.

"See you at work." He didn't even look back as he made his way out of Louis' room and his house.

It was only when he found himself standing in the driveway that realisation set in. And he waited for that black hole to appear in front him, for the world to just swallow him right here and then.

Unfortunately, and as expected he wasn't as lucky.

**

Harry took a long shower, hot water droplets cascading down his back doing wonders to his tense muscles. He finally felt the remnants of the last hours wash away. The last hours ....

His thoughts immediately went back to a certain man with a lovely thick Yorkshire accent. Rough hands gripping him tightly, guiding him, fucking him so good that he feared he was ruined now for everyone else.

"Fuck." He groaned as he felt his dick getting excited. That's not supposed to happen, they just - again - agreed on being friends, even though they both wanted more, and taking it easy from there. 

And clearly, you don't get a hard on after remembering the mind blowing sex you had with said friend and oh -

They're really stupid, aren't they?

Deciding not to act on his needs he quickly washed himself and dried himself off before going to his kitchen in search for something to eat.

Only when he got home did he realise that it was already afternoon. He and Louis had spent not only the night but also the whole morning together. Eating was not on their agenda, however, and his body was slowly begging for nourishment. Harry loved cooking, so he had no worries about finding something in his kitchen. He decided on a sandwich and warmed up some of the tomato soup he had prepared for emergencies. He plopped down on his sofa, his feet on the coffee table, turned on the television and took the first bite of his late lunch. His stomach thanked him immediately. He flicked through the channels and stopped at Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

The other Harry was just about to kill the basilisk when the real Harry heard his phone vibrate. He looked at the screen and his heart skipped a beat when Louis' name appeared. Stupid heart, why are you reacting like that?

He unlocked his phone and opened the message.

Louis T.
Harry, i hope i didn't do anything wrong.. you could have stayed.. we're friends now right?

Friends. Of course. He didn't know why the word left a bitter taste on his tongue. But that was what they'd agreed on. So there's not much he can do now. Except from hitting himself for making such a stupid decision.

With his phone still in his hand he contemplated what to reply or whether he should reply at all. Seeing that not replying wasn't an option here, he quickly typed the words.

Harry
You were perfect but I needed some time alone...

No. Delete.

You did nothing wrong, Lou...

Lou? No!

Yes, friends :) you did nothing wrong. Sorry for worrying you. Thank you again for last night and ...

No, that's too much.

Don't worry. See you at work, bro.

And without thinking even twice he hit send. And immediately regretted it. And just as he was about to take it back, the little delivered changed to seen and oh fuck.

When he saw Louis typing he threw his phone on the couch next to him, refusing to even pick it up again. Not wanting to see, what Louis could've said. Different scenarios ran through his head, all of them ending with Louis ditching and hating him right before they could even start .. whatever it was.

His phone made a little sound, announcing an incoming message. Maybe he could just pretend he hasn't heard it? Maybe he could just buy a new phone and change his number? Burn this one or pretend it got stolen and he wasn't the one who wrote the message?

Groaning, he threw his head back on the head rest of his couch. Blinking at the ceiling he tried to calm his nerves. Why is he even that nervous? He shouldn't even care about any of that.

Anyways, figuring the feeling won't go away anytime soon as well as the message, he cautiously picked up his phone. Not daring to look at the screen just yet. Yes, he's a tad bit dramatic over here, he's well aware.

When he finally unlocked his phone there was indeed a new message from Louis. With another deep breath, he opened the window.

Louis T.
Well i'm glad then .. see you.. mate ..

Okay so, it could be worse, right? Harry still wanted to punch someone, preferably himself for sending such a stupid message. He checked the time and decided it was appropriate to call Niall. He had a lot of explaining to do.

It only rang twice until he heard the line connecting and immediately there was a familiar irish voice, yelling his name.

"Harry, god, how are you? What happened? I tried to call and I texted you. Louis only let me know he picked you up from the meeting and that you were drunk out of your mind. What happened, Harry? Are you okay now? Where are you even, are you -"

"Niall!" Harry interrupted, loud. Silence. "Sorry mate, but you spiralled."

"Okay. Tell me then." His best friend now said much more calmly than before. He smiled at him even though the other man couldn't see it. He loved him dearly. He's dramatic today.

"First of all. I'm fine and I'm home. Louis picked me up yesterday, I slept at his and got home about an hour ago." He heard Niall taking a deep breath in, ready to say something but Harry beat him to it.

"Don't ask, yet." And he swore he heard Niall mutter something along the lines "more like slept with him". He furrowed his brows but continued.

"I'm sorry for not calling you or saying something. I don't know what was going on with me. Still don't know to be honest. And I - Niall we need to talk..." Harry's throat was burning and he felt tears well up in his eyes and there he was. The old Harry, the real Harry. Not this drunken asshole that tried to be badass when he's clearly not. And he needed his best friend.

"Oh, H. Of course. I'm always here for you. I can come over, yeah? We can talk and order in. Whatever you want. Sounds good?" Niall asked in a soft voice and Harry was so grateful for him.

"Sounds good. Thank you, Nialler."

"Oh come on, no need to thank me. I'll be there soon, yeah? Bye."

"Bye." He said nodding and soon after the line went dead.

**

Harry was woken up from his sleep when the doorbell repeatedly rang. Confusion and sleep clouded his mind before he found himself back in the moment, remembering that Niall was about to come over.

With reality came back to him, so did the events of the last, what - 20 hours or so? He couldn't be sure as he made his way over to the door, his bare feet patted over the cool hardwooden floor.

He opened the door and was met with a large grinning Niall and before he could say something the smaller man flung himself at him und embraced him in such a tight hug that they stumbled backwards into the room.

"Easy tiger." Harry chuckled and clapped his best friends on his back in greeting. Niall let go.

"Sorry, but after all that happened I was worried when I haven't heard from you and you didn't make it to the party. Even though I knew you were somewhat safe with Louis. Whatever it was that the two of you were doing." He wiggled his eyebrows as he said the last words, trying to get something out off Harry, clearly knowing - or assuming - something going on between them.

And yes, Harry knew he had to tell Niall. He had to get it off of his chest, everything. That was the plan.

"I know, I'm sorry. But we talked about that already." The man turned around, expecting Niall to just follow him and feel at home as always.

"Want something to drink?" Harry yelled after entering his kitchen. He opened the fridge and frowned. Why was it so empty in there? Normally his fridge was filled with all kind of fresh food, fruit and vegetables, eggs and all sorts of stuff to prepare a nutritious meal. And now he was looking at a not so fresh tomato and a six pack as well as a few open bottles of his favorite Cabernet Sauvignon.

And he actually pitied himself.

"What's taking you so long?" It was Niall's voice that interrupted his staring at his miserable looking fridge.

"Hm?" Harry turned his head to where Niall was standing in the doorway.

"I said I'll take whatever you have. You never answered and when I came here I found you in this weird staring situation with your kitchen device." He made a waving motion to where Harry still stood in front of said kitchen device, door half open.

"Yeah. Sorry. I got lost in my thoughts I guess. Uh, I think I'll just have water." Harry quickly shut the door a bit too forceful causing Niall to flinch slightly and making a frown appear between his eyes. He felt the eyes of his friend burning on his back as he grabbed two glasses out of his cupboard and filled them with tap water.

Niall said nothing but Harry knew he wanted to. But the other man also knew that they'd get there, that was what he was there for at least.

They made their way over to the living room, both taking a seat at the large couch, making themselves comfortable. Harry grabbing his favorite knitted quilt blanket and wrapping it around himself. Niall just grabbed a pillow as usual and put it on his lap, snuggling against it.

"So, where should I start?" Harry sighed, not knowing what to say and where to begin. He just felt so insecure, so out of place. The last few weeks and months hadn't been kind to him. It was as if he hadn't been himself. But was he now? He wasn't sure, but something had changed.

 Something he couldn't yet grasp. The only thing he knew was that he had slipped into a bad headspace. And he wanted to get out of there now, not just for himself, but also for his sister and friends. If he wanted to find Gemma and the other girls, he had to get his shit together now.

And if anyone would help him without hesitation, it was Niall. And he was grateful for that, but in return he had to tell everything.

He made it sound like he had god knows what to hide, when in fact it was just a bit of a problem to cope with it all.

And well, maybe it also had something to do with a certain detective from Doncaster.

"How about you tell me how you really feel?" Was all Niall said and suddenly the gates opened and Harry allowed himself to break down completely.

Chapter Text

Harry didn't know for how long he'd laid there, pathetically sobbing in Niall's arms. The older man said nothing though, just held him, running a soothing hand up and down his back in a steady rhythm and cooing softly in his ear every now and then.

And Harry again was so grateful for Niall just being there with him. Without asking questions and without pressuring him into anything. He knew he was safe with him and he knew now more than ever that he made the right choice with him. Niall was just everything and Harry didn't know where he would be right now without the cheerful Irish man.

At one point there were no tears left to cry, and he just silently hiccuped every once in a while until his breathing found a healthy rhythm again.

"You feel a little better now, H?" Niall's soft voice cut through the silence in the room and Harry nearly flinched as he suddenly was fully aware of the situation again. But there was no going back now. And yes, he actually did feel better. Sometimes all you need is a good cry and an even better friend.

"Good enough to talk." His voice came out rough and raspy and he cringed before he cleared his throat. Sitting up, he wiped his messy nose in the sleeve of his jumper, not exactly caring about the gross move. Niall as if he could read his mind quickly grabbed the glass from the table and handed it over.

Harry took a few sips, the cold liquid a welcoming contrast to his thick and burning throat. When he looked up, his gaze fell on Niall's shirt that was absolutely drenched in snot and tears and Harry felt the embarrassment tinting his cheeks probably even more red than they'd been from all his crying.

"I'm all ears then."

And then Harry told him everything. About the obvious struggle he felt himself being stuck in. And about the meeting and that he found out his father was cheating on his mum. That he was hopeless and didn't know what to do. About how he desperately needed to find Gemma of course.

And about Louis.

"Wow. I - Harry. Why didn't you talk to me before?" Niall started and Harry's face fell. The other man seeming to sense that immediately so he quickly continued.

"I don't blame you of course. I mean, I kinda get it. Because I was there, Harry. I was there from the beginning. And I won't blame you. You have all the right to feel the way you feel." Niall slightly adjusted his position so that he can look Harry in the eyes.

"And you know you can always come to me. And from here on we'll get through this together, eh?" He flicked his finger against Harry's knee and the younger boy managed to chuckle through his ragged breathing.

"I know, Ni. And I know I said it multiple times but this time I really mean it and I'll prove it. I'm sorry." Harry said and leaned forward to wrap his arms around his best friend, brother really.

"You know you have to get this shit straight with Louis, didn't you?" He heard him mumble against his shoulder where the older detective is still squished against it. And Harry expected something like this. Because he knew Niall. And he knew that Niall was right. And even if he wasn't looking for something serious, he still had to talk to Louis - again. And figure things out, it's the least he can do after leaving the man like that. And there he was, still lying to himself about his real intentions.

"That's a good boy." Niall said then and Harry chuckled because he didn't even agreed, Niall just knew him well enough to know what was going through his head at this moment.

As planned they ordered dinner at a chinese restaurant and both ate more than humanly possible. They lingered on the couch some more with empty and half empty take out boxes around them. Talking about god knows what and finally Harry felt like himself again. Like the real Harry, like the young man he was supposed to be. Joking with his friend and not worrying about all the shit life threw at him. And only for this evening and night maybe, only for now he would let himself enjoy this feeling. It was calming, it was like getting a taste of what his life could be again. And he was determined to reach for it. He wouldn't go back this time. He would get it sorted.

He could only hope fate was on his side with that...

**

Harry woke up to the repeated vibration of a phone on the table. He was momentarily confused, realizing he had fallen asleep on the couch. He looked around and saw Niall on the other side of the couch, still asleep despite the aggressive ringing of the phone.

Harry reached for the device and realized it wasn't his. He frowned at the familiar name that appeared on Niall's screen.

Acting like an adult, he accepted the call.

"Hey this is Harry." He waited a moment for a response but was only greeted with silence.

He took the phone from his ear and looked at the screen. The call was still connected.

He brought the phone back to his ear and frowned. "Louis?" he asked as confidently as he could.

And finally he heard something on the other end. A clearing of the throat followed by rustling.

"Yeah, hi. Sorry, I was expecting Niall." the other agent mumbled. 

"Well, I thought so, seeing that you called his number. Niall is still sleeping." And as if on command, the blond agent let out a loud snore.

"Oh, I didn't know you slept together." Louis said and Harry swore he sounded... hurt? No...

"Yes. Wait, no, obviously we didn't sleep together but we fell asleep together. Is that a problem?" He asked and looked around helplessly at his surroundings. Obviously Louis hadn't called without a reason and he was waiting for the lead detective to get to the point. 

"No, of course not. Sorry. Um, can you wake Niall?" And Harry frowned again. 

"Yes, but Louis, if it has something to do with work then you can tell me too. I even insist that you tell me." The younger man answered and changed his position so that he was closer to Niall.

He held the phone between his shoulder and ear and gently shook Niall by the shoulders. The latter stirred in his sleep and grumbled to himself. "Nialler, come on get up. Louis's on the phone." Niall only grumbled and rubbed his eyes with his fists like a toddler. 

"He's on your phone." Harry continued and that seemed to wake Niall up a bit faster, as he suddenly sat up and frowned at Harry.

"Give me the phone." He stretched out his hand and waited for his friend to hand over the phone, the latter raised an eyebrow at this but handed the device over without saying anything more.

"Hey, Louis. What's it?" Harry leaned back and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Whatever is going on, it couldn't be good he thought.

He watched as Niall's face fell momentarily before he sat up straighter and collected his features. He briefly glanced at Harry, the younger man now alerted and ready to leave in an instant.

"Okay. Yeah, we'll be there. Bye." He ended the call and sighed.

"What's up Niall? It's something to do with work yeah? Is it Gemma?" Harry couldn't help the nervous tone laced in his voice. The agent already had a few rough days, he badly needed a break or some good news. Now this, this didn't seem like good news at all.

"We need to get ready. Harry, they found another body." And with that Harry's blood went cold but Niall continued. "We don't know yet, okay? We don't know who it is. Louis asked me to not bring you. Maybe he was right. I think you -"

"No! There's no way I'm staying here. Let's go, come on."

Harry was already at the door when he watched Niall still sitting on the couch, looking at him with an indescribable face.

Niall sighed but made his way over to his friend, checking his pockets for anything he needed, not caring about brushing his teeth right now. And when he nodded they were out of door and off to Niall's car.

Harry tried to convince him to drive himself but he realised quite quickly that there's no way Niall would let him drive under any circumstances. Not that he doesn't trust him, he knew Niall knew he was a great driver. But he has to give it to him this time, maybe he really wasn't in the right head space right now.

And he realised that as soon as the car stopped and Harry looked around and noticed that they already reached their destination.

There was this funny feeling as he saw the many police cars surrounding them. A yellow tape already around them, claiming this place as a crime scene. He took a deep breath in and got out off the car.

Before he could even say anything there was a voice interrupting his thoughts.

"What is he doing here?" The familiar voice shouted and he turned around to see an angry looking Louis stomping up to where Niall and him still stood at Niall's car.

Before Niall could say anything Harry reacted. He took a step forward, now directly in front of Louis.

"He has a name. And he happens to be a detective on this case either. So I suggest you drop this attitude and let us do our work here." Harry said in a stern voice and surprised himself with the confidence he laid out.

Louis was taken aback by it as well as it seemed because he just nodded.

"Harry?" He heard Niall's voice from behind and turned around. He watched Louis doing the same.

"Do me a favour then and let Louis and me enter first. I don't say you can't come, but just let us go first yeah?" The Irish man said in a voice that really left no room to argue so he nodded.

And that was it. Another death. Another murder. The knew it was one of the missing girls. What they didn't know so far was who it was, that was awaiting them inside this abandoned building.

It was all horrible enough and only now the fact that it could be Gemma was hitting Harry all at once and he froze. He heard voices all around him but he wasn't able to make anything out of it.

That was until he felt a warm sensation on his hand, that when he looked down he saw a hand wrapped around his own. A thumb cautiously drawing patterns over his knuckles and when he looked up he was met with concerned blue eyes.

His heart skipped a beat.

"It's going to be okay. It's not her okay? We'll get her back. I pro-"

"Don't. Don't you dare and promise something you have no control over. You don't know if it's her. I appreciate it," He squeezed Louis' hand. "But don't." He finished and let go of the other mans hand.

"You're right. But either way, I'm here for you, yeah? Mates, remember?" Louis said and Harry cringed again, suddenly remembering his message. But that was a thought for another day. Now it's all about the case. And all about not seeing Gemma in the room next door.

He watched as Louis followed Niall into the room and it felt like time stood still. He felt his heart beating so loudly in his chest that he was sure all of the other cops in the room can hear. He felt his hands getting clammy, a restricted feeling in his chest as if he couldn't get enough oxygen in. His skin started to prickle, his ears started ringing and his vision blurred.

"Harry?" The sound of his name was snapping him out of the oncoming panic attack and he focused on Niall who was now standing in front of him.

He prepared himself for the worst. He felt it coming. And then Niall opened his mouth to speak.

"It is .."

...

Chapter Text

The ringing in his ears stopped when he heard the name and his stomach dropped.

He should feel bad, but all he could feel in the moment the name left Niall's lips was relief.

"It is Maggie Williams." He heard Niall's words echoe in his head. And all he could think of was "it's not Gemma. It's not Gemma."

He exhaled and pressed his palms against his eyes. Willing the tears that threatened to fall to go away before he embarrassed himself in front of the whole team. They already started to whisper around him and threw him weird looks, he didn't need any more of that.

"Okay, our work here is done, they only needed us for the protocol. We should go back to the station to discuss the case from here on. Let the forensics do their work." It was Louis that spoke next. He came out of the room where the body of Maggie Williams was found.

When his eyes met Harry's he briefly stopped in his tracks. They watched each other and Harry swore there was a small encouraging smile playing on Louis lips.

"I need to see her." Harry whispered and immediately felt a few pair of eyes on him. He wanted to roll his eyes. What did they think? That he was a baby?

Niall and Louis were quick to react though, they stepped aside and let Harry through. He stepped forward with the other agents right behind him on both of his sides.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before he opened them again and let his gaze land on the scene before him.

There she was, poor girl. Innocent. And so young. A waste of life. You could almost think she's just asleep. If it wasn't for the blood. And her sickening pale skin. There's not an ounce of life left in her and death was palpable in the whole environment.

That could be Gemma. THAT COULD'VE BEEN YOUR SISTER YOU INCOMPETENT COWARD. The voice in his head screamed and he needed to get out of here.

So he ran. Past Louis and Niall who called out his name. He ran outside the building and into the woods nearby where he found the nearest tree to empty the contents of his stomach next to.

"It's okay." He felt a hand on his back and pinched his eyes shut when another wave of nausea hit him. He heaved but nothing came out and he shuddered because that was the worst feeling ever and he felt like crying all over again.

"Come on. I'll bring you home." It was Louis. He was the one standing beside him, caressing his back.

"I need to go to the office with you. We need to get this sorted. We need more. We need to find the other girls." He felt himself near to rambling.

"Harry. Look at me," Louis said and Harry raised his head. The younger agent wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I'm taking you home now. No discussion. This is an order. You've been through enough in the last few days. I want you to rest. And when you're better, you're more than welcome anytime. We need you. Because you're a brilliant detective. But we need you with a clear head. And you don't have one. And I don't need you until then." Harry nodded, knowing there was no point in arguing any more.

So he followed Louis to a car. Louis opened the passenger door and Harry got in. Whose car was that? Harry had no idea. How did he even get here?

"We're here." Harry blinked as he lifted his head from the car window. He scanned his surroundings and realised he was at his house. He blinked. Louis was next to him, he was sitting behind the steering wheel, watching him concerned. So he was the one that drove him home.

Where was he again? Why was he in this situation?

He remembered. It wasn't Gemma. Thank god it wasn't her. But fuck it, another family lost a loved one. Parents lost their child. Siblings lost a part of their childhood. Friends lost someone to find comfort in. And it was all so cruel.

Because despite all of that he couldn't help but being glad it wasn't his sister. It wasn't his childhood. Their parents still had both their kids. There was still hope. They had still time.

And they will find her. They needed to find her. Because there was no way he was ever going to live without her.

"Harry can you hear me?" There was a voice pulling him out off it. Louis' voice. He knew that by now. And he remembered where he was.

"Yes. Sorry, what was it?" The younger man asked and ran a hand through his hair. It felt greasy, a sign that he did that way too often today. A sign that he worried too much.

"I said that we're here and I asked if I can do something. Do you want me to come in?" He watched him for a moment, he actually looked like he cared and well, Harry's not good alone.

"Yes please." His voice came out so small it was close to embarrassing but Louis didn't seem to care. The older man just smiled and unbuckled his seat belt.

Harry followed soon and they made their way to the front door in silence. He felt his hand shaking slightly as he pushed the key into the lock and immediately there was a hand on his shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. They both still said nothing but neither of them felt the need to. Not in this moment at least.

When he finally opened the door they stepped in and took of their shoes at the door. Harry took Louis' coat and put it next to his on the rack.

His shoulders relaxed immediately in the familiar walls of his home. And for some reason he had to admit that I was also comforting to have Louis here with him.

Something he wouldn't have expected after how they left things the last time.. not too long ago. He shuddered thinking about his message and calling the man he just had amazing sex with "bro".

But that's what they are now. Mates. That's why Louis was there. Because friends support each other. Right? That's why.

"Harry.." He felt something at his underarm and looked up only to be met with blue eyes. He furrowed his brows and slightly tilted his head before he looked down to where Louis' hand was softly pressed against his forearm.

"You did it again. Let's make some tea, okay? We can talk about it or we just put on a film to watch." Louis said and Harry only nodded.

There was this strange feeling again. A feeling he had too often while being around Louis. He knew what it was, he knew what it meant. He wasn't that daft even though he tried to tell himself different.

They had amazing sex, mindblowing and passionate but not only that. No, because Louis also turned out to be this unbelievable kind and generous person - inside and out of course. Because look at him, he's hands down the most handsome man Harry has ever laid eyes on.

"I think I could fall in love with you." He thought to himself as he watched the man with the blue eyes.

"Hm?" His voice pulled him out off his thoughts and Harry blinked confused.

"What?" He asked.

"What was that?" Louis was now the one asking and Harry furrowed his brows.

"What was what?"

"You said something .. something about me I guess. Couldn't catch it though." He stepped further as he waited for an answer that he'll never get.

"Nothing. I said nothing." Harry heart was beating nearly out off his chest. Fuck, he didn't only think that, did he?

He said that out loud.

Or thankfully it wasn't exactly loud apparently.

He would be fucked if Louis actually heard him.

Thank whoever was out there that Louis didn't hear him.

That would've ruined everything.

Chapter Text

LOUIS

Harry was asleep by the time the credits rolled over the screen. 

Louis had felt his head on his shoulder not nearly halfway in. He had adjusted their position carefully not to wake the sleeping man next to him. It was more than uncomfortable for Louis and he was sure his ass was fully dead by now as well as his back and oh, he also can't feel his left arm and leg. But all of that was worth it if only Harry was finally getting some rest.

They talked. Or more like, Louis did the talking because after Harry let his little confession slip (yes, of course he had heard him) Harry was even more out of it.

It took Louis a lot of strength to keep a straight face and act as if he hadn't heard Harry. But he knew immediately that those words weren't meant for him to hear and he respected it.

Because let's be honest. That was a huge confession and Louis didn't know what to do with that right now. All that he knew was the fuzzy feeling that erupted in his stomach when he heard those words.

But then there's also the other thing. The one where they agreed on being friends or whatever. The one where Harry called him bro after spending the most amazing night together. To Louis, it always felt like one step forward and two steps back.

He finally managed to get off the couch without waking Harry in the process, he winced over the feeling of blood flowing back to his limbs and soon he was able to feel his ass again.

He turned around to Harry, noticing the position the man was in. His head was now hanging weirdly over the backrest of the couch and Louis figured that if he slept through the night like this he won't be able to move in the morning.

So he stepped forward, as quietly as possible and carefully lifted Harry's head. When the other man grumbled in his sleep he froze for a second until he was sure that he still was out and fast asleep. He put one hand under his head and the other under his upper body as he laid him properly down on the couch.

The curly haired man responded by snuggling closer into his couch and Louis couldn't help but smile at him. In a different world they would by now be in bed together. But they weren't there yet. And he wasn't sure if they ever would be.

He snatched one of Harry's overly fluffy blankets and laid it out over his sleeping form. He then quickly went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and placed it next to Harry in case he got thirsty. He turned off the TV and did a quick check up on his surroundings. When he was sure that everything was kind of sorted he felt comfortable enough to  leave Harry.

Even though he'd preferred to stay the night but unfortunately Harry isn't awake and not able to permit to that so there's no way Louis would take advantage of the situation.

And with a last look at Harry, he made his way over to the door where he put on his jacket and shoes and then he left.

What would happen now? He has no idea. But he was sure that they needed to talk - again. And that they needed to stop with the whole back and forth and just being friends bullshit.

But that was a problem for another day. Now he just wished that Harry will get a good rest and that they finally will make progress with the case.

Louis returned home about 30 minutes later, he decided to get some take away on the way back to his house so he was now content with a full tummy and ready to go to bed himself.

**

It was his phone that ripped him out of his sleep, the angry noise of repeated calls. He groaned as he turned in search for the device and didn't even look at the screen as he accepted the call blindly.

"Hm?" Was all he managed to get out in his still sleep drunken state. And when he checked he saw that it was only 2am.

"Are you with Harry?" Niall's voice came through the speaker and suddenly he was wide awake. He sat up in his bed and already was alerted.

"No, I'm home. He was asleep when I left him though. What's up, Niall?" Without thinking he began getting dressed, something wasn't right. There was no way Niall would call in the middle of the night to ask about Harry if there wasn't a serious reason for it.

"Okay. Don't get mad alright? He tried calling me but I was too late. He left a message." There was short pause and Louis got was about to lose it.

"Come to the fucking point, Niall." He shouted, already at the door.

"He said something along the lines "why does everyone always leave me?" And when I tried to call back he wasn't answering. And now we're here." He said finally and Louis stomach dropped.

He hadn't meant to leave him alone. He actually debated to stay. But he left for the sake of Harry. He didn't want to overstep any boundaries.

Because, if he's being honest this whole - whatever it is with Harry - is so fucking confusing and he didn't even know how they got themselves in this situation.

"Louis?" He heard Niall through his phone and hummed a reply.

"I'm on my way. You coming too or what?" He asked the Irish man and unlocked his car, he threw his phone in the middle console and waited for the car to connect the device.

"Yeah, yeah I'm on my way. But Louis?" His voice now echoed through the car confirming that his car connected the phone.

"What!" He asked already racing down the street. Luckily there was almost no traffic at this time of night, which would certainly make up a few minutes.

"Why are you getting there?" Niall asked and it was quiet on the line, only the sound of the engine as it flew down the streets and the sound of raindrops hitting the windshield.

"You wouldn't have called if you didn't think something was wrong. See you there." And with that he hit the red button on his screen and the call immediately disconnected.

It wasn't the right place to think about that now. He had to worry to get to Harry as soon as possible and hope that the other man was okay and just a bit out of it but peacefully at sleep.

The problem was, he couldn't help but think about it. Why was he so quick to react? He knew that Niall was more than capable to manage on his own. Man, the number of times Niall must have been in this situation, at this point he could probably do it in his sleep.

But the thing was. Louis cared. And maybe there was a little bit of guilt in leaving Harry in that state. Whatever state it was exactly. The truth is, he had no idea what Harry was like. All he knew was through assumptions and observations. And what screamed the loudest was that Harry wasn't stable, no matter how hard he tried to play the tough cop every day. And Louis knew there were more demons Harry was battling.

He ran his hand over his face and turned on the radio. A little music should take his mind off things, at least until he reached his destination. The windshield wipers in Louis' car were working at full speed to keep his view clear.

The rain was now pouring mercilessly on the car, the music barely audible. Normally he would stay seated in this weather, but unfortunately he arrived at Harry's house at exactly that moment. Despite the rain, he was out of the car faster than he ever was, his heart was hammering against his ribs as he practically ran up the steps to Harry's house, his breath short and uneven. He barely remembered how he got there, his mind a blur of Niall's panicked voice over the phone.

He reached the door and pounded like a mad man. He repeatedly rang the bell but it kept quiet from the other side. Only a few minutes passed when he saw reflections of light against the door and he turned to see Niall's familiar car pulling up next to his.

The other man stumbled out off his vehicle and sprinted over to where Louis was still banging at the door.

"Move. I have the keys." And without further thought Louis did so and watched impatiently as Niall unlocked the door.

Finally it opened and Louis pushed past him, not caring about anything other than making sure that Harry was okay. He called out to the younger agent, feeling lost in the dark house, clearly not familiar with it.

The light turned on and he looked over his shoulder to where Niall had his hand still on the light switch. He blinked a few times, trying to get used to the sudden brightness that irritated his eyes.

"I'll go upstairs, you'll check this floor." He shouted the instruction to Niall in all his faked lead detective manner and the other man definitely knew better than to say anything else.

He took two steps at the time, his wet shoes leaving imprints on the stairs, his pulse ringing in his ears. Harry would so kill him for that but in this moment he couldn't care less. Hell he'd even pay for the cleaning, he'd even scrub those fucking steps himself if it meant Harry was okay.

He had no idea why he cared that much. He was telling himself that it was normal. Caring about friends, people you work with. That's all that this was about. Nothing more nothing less. But still, he couldn't shake off this feeling, this indescribable fear that was running through his blood every minute that he didn't know that Harry was safe.

He tried to tell himself that he's just asleep. That he got up after Louis left, got himself some water, left a confused voicemail on Niall's answer phone and got back to sleep. He tried not to think about every other possibility that's trying to sneak into his brain.

As if on autopilot he opened the doors on the upper floor and cursed everytime Harry was not to be found. It was then that he reached the last door, the door that led to Harry's bedroom.

He took a deep breath and in pushed down the handle. And his heart sank when nothing happened. He pushed and rattled but it was locked.

"Fuck." He yelled and kicked at the door in frustration. He heard commotion from downstairs, soon there where footsteps on the stairs, telling him that Niall now was on his way.

"He's locked the door. He has to be in there." Louis said as the blonde man reached him and banged at the door without hesitation.

"Harry! Open the fucking door!" Niall yelled and Louis took a step back and gripped his hair in frustration. He knew he would kick this door down if there was no reply in the next few seconds and he knew Niall knew too.

The waited what felt like much too long until Louis lost it.

"Fuck it. Move." He said and Niall did just that as Louis used all his strength to slam his body against the door. There was a loud crack and a pain shot up his shoulder and the door opened.

Louis was the first to shove it open and enter. The room was dark except from the moonlight that shone through one of the large windows. But there he was, only a shadow but unmistakably the form of a human, the form of Harry.

He was sitting against his bed but due to the lighting conditions Louis couldn't make out if he was conscious or not. Louis dropped down in front of him just as the light turned on. His head was tilted slightly, eyes barely open but Louis heart rate slowed immediately as he saw the slow motion of the younger man's chest. He was breathing. He was alive.

"Harry, hey babe. Look at me. Why are you sitting on the floor?" He let his gaze wander over the room, soon noticing the small empty bottles, he cussed.

Up close, he could see how pale Harry was, his curls damp with sweat, his breathing shallow. His lips were slightly parted, his face slack, but when Louis touched his arm, he stirred, blinking sluggishly.

"What kind of pills are you on?"

The younger man tried to lift his head, it lolled to the side and Louis was met with his half open droopy eyes. He saw a sad smile tugging at his lips when he realised who was in front of him and Louis was only glad that he was conscious enough to recognise him.

"Lou?" Harry's voice was barely there, scratchy and thick with sleep, or intoxication.

Louis swallowed hard, brushing a hand through his own hair. "Jesus Christ, Haz. What the fuck did you do?"

Harry groaned, shifting slightly. "S'not a big deal..."

That was until he saw Harry's cheeks changing colour, the red taint was suddenly replaced with an unhealthy greyish shade. And before he could react, Harry leaned forward and emptied the contents of his stomach over Louis lap.

The older man froze, his hands up in the air as he stared down on the mess over his pants. Normally, he'd lose it. But as he heard the first sobs escaping Harry through painful dry retching sounds, he couldn't care less about any of it.

He took him in his arms and helped him getting up. There was no words between them but neither of them felt like it in that moment.

Louis helped him to his en-suite bathroom, he turned on the lights and it seemed as Harry's eyes saw the toilet his stomach turned again and with what might be his last strength, the man stumbled to the toilet and barely got the lid up before another wave of sick overcame him.

This time Louis was more helpful as he knelt down beside him, gathering the messy curls in one of his hands while the other stroked the agents back as his body shook with every gag. Louis grimaced but didn't let go.

"I hate that." He cried and Louis pouted, feeling so helpless.

A sound behind him let him know that they weren't alone. Somehow he forgot Niall was there with them. But now he was grateful, because the blonde guy set up some fresh towels and clothes on the sink.

"He okay?"

"He will be. Once it's all out. Did that happen before?" Louis didn't even have to specify and Niall nodded. He figured it wasn't the time to talk about that. But he for sure made a mental note to do so in the future.

"I can take it from here. You can go home." Niall said and Louis looked at him as if he'd grown two heads.

"No. I mean, I appreciate it but uh, I'll stay. I -."

"You don't have to say it. Just -." He hesitated a moment, his eyes flicking to his life long best friend and partner. "You two need to sort it out. Tell him to call me."

And with that he walked out of the bathroom.

Leaving the two men behind, one still with his head in the toilet and the other covered in sick.

Speaking of. His sweats began to feel uncomfortable on his thighs and that was his sign to bring this situation forward.

"You going to be sick again?" He asked Harry, still with his hands on the man. Harry shook his head.

"Thanks." He said and his eyes wandered over Louis until they landed on his crotch and widened.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Oh god." His face was now back to a bright red and Louis preferred that a million times.

Harry tried to get up and away from him. He failed, though he looked much better after cleaning his system. 

"I'm a mess. Fuck. I'm such a fucking mess. Oh god." He rambled and covered his face with his hands. Louis shook his head, trying to touch him when Harry flinched.

"No, no, I'm sorry. I'm disgusting. You don't. Don't have to touch me. I'm sorry. Just -" he hiccuped and looked panicked.

"Harry, hey." Louis tried again to approach him, sensing the panic that slowly took over Harry.

"No. Just - please, you should clean yourself and then leave. Just leave. You don't have to deal with that. With me." His breathing getting more ragged every second and he was now pulling on his strands ins frustration.

"Stop!" Louis yelled and Harry stopped. Oh.

"Listen to me, Harry. It's all good. I'm not mad. This is nothing." He mentioned to his clothes and tried to suppress the cringe for the sake of Harry. "Let's get us cleaned up and get you to bed, okay? How does that sound, babe?"

Harry watched him carefully, his eyes scanning over Louis face, obviously searching it for any sign of dishonesty. And then, hesitantly he nodded.

"Okay. Can you - do you want me to wait outside?" The older man asked pointing his thumb behind him.

Harry shook his head no.

"Shower with me?" Harry asked instead.

Louis figured it was best to make the first move so he stepped out of his clothes and left them in a pile on the floor, he needed to wash them out before they can go in the washing machine either way.

Harry followed and began to undress himself und Louis tried not look at the scene. Feeling like that would be the most inappropriate time.

He then stepped forward and reached in the shower to turn the water on. Harry went to his sink and grabbed his toothbrush, Louis still tried to avoid his eyes and awkwardly looked around the room while he waited for the water to heat up.

The room slowly began to fog up as Harry rinsed his mouth and turned around. They looked at each other for second and Harry cleared his throat.

"We should get in. I can wash your clothes after." He said and Louis was about to protest when Harry shook his head and stepped around him.

He hooked his hands in the waistband of his briefs and again, Louis had to look away as the last piece of clothing hit the floor.

Harry then stepped into the shower and Louis hurried to get his own underwear off. He followed the younger man and they soon shared the tight space.

"Close your eyes." Louis said gently and watched as Harry's lids fluttered close, eyeballs still moving, searching without seeing, the muscle between his eyes twitching ever so often letting a frown appear over his face.

Harry swallowed and Louis eyes dropped down to where he saw his Adam's apple bopping in his throat. And slowly he let his eyes wander up again. Time around him seemed to stop, the original task seeming forgotten as he allowed himself to get lost in the visual in front of him.

Harry radiated a remarkable softness yet a sharp intensity. With his defined jawline and accentuated cheeks that Louis know held those dimples to die for. His rosy lips, cupids bow so perfectly formed he want to reach out and feel it, or even better, let his tongue trace the lines.

He can only imagine the green eyes that lay behind his closed lids. The emerald color somewhere between a fresh green interspersed with amber speckles that danced like rays of sunlight through a forest. Like a silent secret of nature, a touch of mystery that resonated in the soul of whoever looked into those eyes.

It's really a harmonious interplay of striking structure and soft charisma. An unobtrusive masculinity that combined strength with sensitivity. Truly made by gods. Truly mesmerising and beautiful.

"You're staring." A small voice interrupted his thoughts and he felt himself blushing at being caught.

Their eyes met and it was then, that Louis knew he was fucked. And there was no turning back.

What he didn't know what that the man before him felt the same.

Chapter Text

Harry

He felt Louis eyes on him as he stood in the shower. 

The sound of water cascading against tiles filled the small, steamy space, muffling the outside world and creating a cocoon of warmth.

It prickled on his skin, bordering to uncomfortable but still leaving little tingles in his stomach, bathing in the feeling of being admired.

But still there was this lingering fear, having exposed so much of himself without really wanting to. That wasn't supposed to happen. Louis wasn't supposed to be here, not supposed to see him in this mess.

That's why he called Niall. God if only he had known that the Irish guy would call Louis, he wouldn't have done it. He would've sat in his misery alone for a few more hours until his pills finally would've started working and sleep would've found him.

But of course he wasn't that lucky. He'd known that the second he made the call and was able to talk. That's when he knew that he fucked up. Somehow he messed up when he drowned his pills with a bottle of vodka which led to .. well .. this.

"You're staring." He watched Louis' eyes snap to his own and all he could see was blue.

Piercing blue eyes like shards of crystal, sharp and mesmerizing, drawing him in with their striking intensity.

They seem to hold the power of a stormy ocean, deep and unyielding, yet glimmer with the clarity of a sunlit glacier.

Their gaze cut through the surface, as if seeking to uncover hidden truths, leaving an unforgettable impression. These eyes possessed a rare brilliance, a captivating hue that feels almost otherworldly, blending mystery and allure in every glance.

Fuck. He was fucked. Not that he didn't know that already. But his brain reminded him every moment it appeared.

Louis gave him a soft smile, before he cautiously grabbed his hand and led him under the water. "Come on." He whispered.

Beads of water slid down their skin, tracing paths over curves and angles, mingling with the soft glow of dim bathroom light.

Their breaths, shallow at first, became slower, synchronised like the rhythm of falling droplets.

Fingers grazed wet skin, hesitant but electric, leaving trails of heat. Eye contact lingered, intimate and unguarded, as though the stream washing over them had stripped away not just the nights incidents, but every barrier between them.

Neither of them knew how much time passed as they got lost in whatever moment it was that they shared. Somehow it was as if a guard was let down. Boundaries crumbled and left was only trust and an unspoken but shared wish for more.

Louis' hand cupped Harry's face and he leaned into the touch, his thumb brushing away a drop that Harry wasn't sure was water. The steam curled around them like a whisper, and the space between their bodies closed, inch by inch, until it was gone entirely.

Soft lips met Harry's and the little sigh he let out was swallowed by Louis. This kiss felt different. Because this kiss was different. This kiss was only the beginning for whatever journey was before them. A promise that they'd go on this journey together. But also the same understanding that they have to talk. So it seemed like this kiss was their escape before they had to face the world.

Harry let his hands glide down Louis' wet body, over the curve of his bum and he squeezed the older man's cheeks in his big hands. Louis pressed further into him, a small moan escaping his throat, travelling right into Harry's cock.

He let his hands roam further, right over the cleft of Louis ass, where he slightly pulled his cheeks apart. He broke the kiss and searched for Louis' eyes asking for permission. Louis nodded, his pupils dilated and dark.

Harry grabbed behind him, blindly finding the bottle of lube he stocked in his shower for normally very lonely experiences. He squeezed some on his fingers and returned to his position between Louis cheeks. He carefully circled his rim and when Louis let out a breath he pushed his finger past the ring of muscles.

They moaned together, both from the feeling of being connected and the way their hard dicks rubbed together between their bodies.

Harry soon let a second finger slip in, Louis' legs momentarily giving up under him and Harry had to use is other arm to hold him up. He was panting in Harry's neck, all the while the water poured down on them.

In one swift motion Harry turned them around, he pressed Louis against the cold tiles and dropped to his knees. He spread the agents cheeks again and admired the sight, he licked his lips once and then a long stripe up from Louis balls to the end of his spine.

A high pitched scream went through the shower and he felt one of Louis hands gripping his head, tangling his fingers in the unruly curls, tugging slightly causing Harry to moan with his tongue against his hole.

He had Louis' hips in a strong grip but released one hand and let it slip between his cheeks, he used two fingers and let them slip in next to his tongue and the other man let out another deep groan as Harry found his spot and crooked his fingers against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"'m close." He whimpered. And oh god, he whimpered. Harry's poor, neglected cock couldn't handle it, hanging heavy between his legs leaking pre cum all over the shower.

He used his other hand to take Louis' cock in his hand and began slowly pumping in rythm with the thrusts on his fingers. He felt Louis' legs shaking, a string of curse words left Louis' lips as his grip tightened in Harry's hair.

He pulled away but let his finger continue the assault on Louis' prostate. "Let go. Wanna hear you." His voice came out hoarse and with another flick of his wrist he had Louis shouting and painting the shower wall in his come. He gently stroked him through it until he felt his spent cock slowly softening.

He got up just as Louis turned around. Their lips met in a soft kiss, only brushing against each other and he felt Louis' hand wandering down his torso.

"Let me take care of you." He whispered and Harry smiled timidly.

"Kind of already did." He said, tone bordering on embarrassed as he waited for Louis reaction. The man in front of him raised his brows, not really unterstanding what he meant. That was  until Harry felt his hand on his own dick. To be specific. His own soft dick.

He watched as Louis eyes went wide and got even darker than before. A low growl came out of him and he pressed his lips against Harrys in a messy and bruising kiss. It was all tongue and teeth, not caring about saliva getting everywhere. It was raw and full of unfiltered desire. And it also was hot.

"That's the hottest thing I've ever seen." He broke the kiss and gave Harry's cock a tug, the younger man hissed in pleasure. His cock twitching in interest already again. "You getting off just from pleasuring me, hm?" Harry felt his lips kissing down his neck, sucking every now and then, leaving marks for sure. "You really like my ass that much, don't you?" His voice was so low and raspy Harry felt it deep in his core and shivered.

"I asked you a question." Another tug, he felt his blood rushing down, filling up his cock again. All he managed was a nod and Louis narrowed his eyes.

Oh shit. "Yes. I love your ass. Love eating you out, tastes so good." He was amazed that he got out those words, feeling like his speech long left him.

"Well, I loved that too. There's just one little thing that I'm not okay with right now." Louis said and Harry's heart dropped in his stomach. What had he done wrong? He thought, no, he was sure Louis enjoyed it. And Louis seemed to sense Harry's shift in mood and smiled smugly.

"I can basically hear you thinking. None of that. You did more than amazing." Louis took his chin in his hand and pressed a small kiss on Harry's lips. "But.. I wanted to be the one to make you come." He continued and Harry's breath hitched.

"You think you have another one in you, love?" And who would Harry be to say no to that? To say no to Louis and another orgasm.

"I might." He ran his tongue over his bottom lip before he pulled it into his mouth as he looked at Louis from under his lashes. That was all it took for the blue eyed man as he gripped Harry's now fully hard cock and began pumping in steady rythm. He collected some of the pre cum that mixed with the remnants of his first orgasm and used it as lube.

Harry was still so sensitive that he soon felt the familiar warmth in his lower belly. He had his head in the crook of his neck and Louis had his hand buried in his wild wet hair and held him close to him. "I can't hold it any longer." He stammered and before either of them could react his second orgasm hit him hard.

They both looked down at where Harry spilled all over Louis' hand between their bodies. A few drops landing in Louis trimmed pubic hair, slowly dripping down his half hard cock. An imagine that was burned immediately into Harrys mind forever.

Their eyes met again at the same time and they smiled at each other, both with flushed cheeks and shining eyes, heavy panting still filling the shower as they recovered from everything that happened in that short span of time.

They made quick business of finishing in the shower and soon found themselves wrapped in Harry's fluffy blankets on his bed with steaming mugs in their hands. Gone was the carefree time in the shower, suddenly a heaviness hung over them, a heaviness that reminded them of what had happened before and that they needed to talk about it.

Harry cleared his throat, wanting to be the first one to start this conversation. He was desperate to apologize, Louis deserved that.

"Um, I'm going to explain some things and I want you to just listen. Please let me get this out because I fear that if I don't do it now, I'll never have the guts to do so ever. And if this -" he waved his hands between them. "is really happening, you need to know." Louis nodded.

He took a deep breath in. "First of all, I'm sorry. I never wanted you to find me like this. Looking back I have to admit that it was stupid to think Niall wouldn't call you after the day we had," He chuckled lightly but continued. "But still, I'm sorry I dragged you into it and I woud understand if that would be a reason for you to end this right here, right now." He watched as Louis shook his head no, enough for him to let out a little relieved breath.

"It took me some time to admit to myself that I have a problem. But now I know, and I'm really working on getting it under control. Since Gemma disappeared, I haven't been the same, the pressure has become too much. I turned to alcohol as an outlet. I've got it under control now. I can do without it. But when it gets too hard, those thoughts come back. Um, when you found me. The pills. They're my prescribed sleeping pills. Before you ask, I didn't want to kill myself. I would never do that. But I just wanted to sleep and I wanted those thoughts to stop. I thought a little alcohol would make it easier. I only took three pills, but then I felt a panic attack coming in and dropped the pills so they spilled all over the floor.  What I'm trying to say is, and I don't want to justify it. But the situation you found me in probably looked worse than it was. Yes, I drank. Yes I took sleeping pills but I was also deeply exhausted from the panic attack." He looked back up at Louis, signaling him that he was done and was met with a frown.

"What?" He asked cautiosly, already expecting the worst.

"That's all?" Louis asked and put his mug on the nightstand on his side of the bed. Now it was Harrys turn to frown.

"What - what do you mean "that's all?" What did you expect?" He worked himself up pretty quickly and was about to get up from his bed and get Louis out of his home once for all for belittling his problems or whatever that was, that he was trying to do.

"No. God, Harry. No." Louis was fast to get up on his knees and shuffled over to Harry. He took his hands in his and the younger man let him do so.

"I'm sorry if you misunderstood my reaction. Of course, that's bad enough. But Harry, that's something we can work on. Hey, I was afraid you'd confess a murder or something, because let's be honest, then I'd have a problem with my morals. But this - and believe me, I don't want to downplay it - we can get through this together," He smiled softly and Harry felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders. "We can talk about it more when you're more comfortable okay?" And he nodded.

Part one was done. Now, to the other topic they finally had to approach.

It was in both of their eyes, they didn't even had to say it. And now it was Louis time to speak first.

"We should probaly talk about us now, eh?" He chuckled and met Harry's gaze. "We've been dancing around this for weeks, aren't we?"

"Yeah." He agreed easily.

"What are we, Harry? What is this? I mean, I know what I want this to be, but - you gave me so many mixed signals, H." And he was right, Harry really did that. God, he still wanted to facepalm when he thought about the things he'd said.

"I - I want to give this a chance." He smiled at Louis. "I want it to be an "us". And I don't want to be friends only."

He was met with a smile so bright it could illuminate the whole room. Little crinkles formed next to his eyes, as the grin reached them. And he was so beautiful in this moment, so young and happy that Harry never wanted to see anything else ever again.

"So we're really doing this? We're dating?" Harry only managed to nod once when he flew back on his bed by the force of a body that collided with his own.

Their teeth clashed together before their lips could, but neither of them was able to get rid of the smile yet.

"Okay, okay. Get off of me you menace." Harry gently pushed Louis down next to him with a laugh.

Then his face was back to serious.

"I thought it was just me," Harry admitted, his voice low, almost as if he were afraid to say the words out loud.

Louis' heart skipped a beat. He leaned forward, his eyes searching Harry's face for any trace of doubt. "It's not just you," He said, his voice steady and assuring. "I've tried to ignore it. I've tried to tell myself it's just... attraction, or lust, or something else, but it's not. It's more than that. And it scares the hell out of me."

Harry let out a breathless laugh, his hand running through his curly hair. "You think you're scared? I've been walking around pretending this isn't happening. Pretending that every time you laugh, or smile, or even look at me, my heart doesn't feel like it's going to burst out of my chest."

"Pretty intense, isn't it? Never felt like this before." He said honestly, wanting to be as open as he could to make this work out.

"There's just one more thing." Harry said, his tone back to serious again, a small wrinkle between his eyes. And Louis made a humming sound to let him know that he can continue.

"We can't let that interfere with our work. I think we've seen what happens when personal lives mix with this line of work. It's messy. Dangerous. And yet..." He got lost in his thoughts.

"And yet, here we are." Louis finished the sentence for him and Harry nodded.

"We need to set boundaries." Harry said, grabbing his own mug from the beside table, bringing it to his lips and cringing when he found that the tea was cold already.

"Come here." Louis said and patted the space next to him, Harry shuffled over and leaned himself against the agents chest. He was met with Louis' strong and steady heartbeat, bringing him a peace that he had long sought for.

"We should keep it to ourselves, okay? And I don't mean with Niall or Zayn, but I think we should keep the circle as small as possible. At least for now. As long as we're working on this case." Louis suggested and Harry got over his words in his head, he might have a point.

"Okay. I agree. Also, on the scene we should always keep it professional. It's work and we can't let our feelings affect anything." Harry said and felt Louis shifting. He looked up at him, finding him already looking.

"I can already see that becoming a problem in the future. Priorities will change." His tone was sad but Harry nodded still.

"Let's not jeopardise it before it even started, okay? We'll face it when it comes to that." Louis hummed in agreement and Harry let his hand wander over Louis torso, feeling the muscles in his abs tensing under his fingertips. He traced the imaginary lines there down to his v line over his pubic bone and back up.

"You make that sound so simple." He chuckled lightly.

"It's not." Harry admitted after some time. "But we'll figure it out. One step at a time. Do you trust me?" Harry asked and Louis nodded.

"Well that's the most important thing. That, and to be honest with each other. No lies, no secrets. Then we'll be fine."

Louis froze under him before he mumbled a small yes and Harry tilted his head up to press their lips together.

They'll be fine. Right?

Chapter Text

Two weeks went by in the blink of an eye, they shared the news with Niall as he's one of the few people being directly affected.

And even if they didn't make great progress with the case, Harry was happy. He was actually happy with Louis and what they became in this short amount of time.

After they talked, they spent most of their days and nights together. Late night talking until the sun rose, tangled up under the sheets, gentle touches, stolen kisses - it all became so natural.

How they went from despising each other to savouring each other's company is beyond Harry but he's happy and he'll cherish it.

They were sitting in the bar with Niall, sipping on their beers occasionally and talking about the case. It was Liam's night off and Harry asked him to join them. Actually, Harry became quiet close to Liam over the last few weeks, the bartender turned out to be a great listener (might be because of his job to be fair) but Harry also learned a lot about the man.

Also, Zayn was supposed to come. Harry wasn't sure what to think about him still. There was this weird dynamic between Louis and his dark haired god like friend. Always kind of mysterious, like a lingering secret that was always surrounding them. Harry had not said anything yet, but he couldn't say that it didn't bother him that everytime Zayn called, Louis would apologise and left the room. Maybe that was just the detective in him but he couldn't help but wonder what it was.

Now was not the time to think about it, not when he watched Louis being so happy, talking about his friend and they experiences in Germany back in the day. He was excited, especially because they were about to share the news to Liam and Zayn.

Louis had his arm casually swung over the chair that belonged to Harry. They shared a private smile, their eyes lingering just a moment too long. It wasn't overt but everyone paying attention could see the tenderness between them.

It was only a couple of minutes later that Liam and Zayn made an appearance, sliding into the chairs at the table and greeting the group of three already waiting.

Harry was met with an icy stare of the man that was Louis best friend and he tried to diffuse the tension with a kind smile. To no use though, the other man barely paying him anymore attention.

Soon, Liam and Zayn also had fresh beers in front of them. And the couple amongst the group glanced at each other, a silent exchange between them.

Louis then cleared his throat. Leaning forward slightly to grab their attention.

"Actually, there's something we wanted to tell you guys," He said, his voice steady but carrying a hint of nervousness. His partner gave him a reassuring nod before chiming in.

"We're together. Like... " He raised their linked hands for the other two men to see, his voice firmer, but still searching for their friends' reactions.

For a moment, there was a stunned silence. The sounds of the bar seemed to rush in louder, the thudding bass filling the space between them.

Liam was the first to speak as he broke into. "That's awesome! I mean, it is right? I saw it the first time you two met - it was in your eyes immediately!" He laughed, clapping them both on the shoulder.

Louis and Harry were happy, but to be honest, Harry wouldn't have expected anything else from Liam.

Zayn though ...sitting stiffly in his chair, he didn't share the enthusiasm. His expression darkened as the realization sank in. "What?" He said, his voice cutting sharply against the background noise. His eyes darted between the two men, disbelief and something uglier flashing across his face.

"You're serious? You two? Like... together?" His voice rose, loud enough to draw the attention of a few nearby tables. The couple tensed, their easy smiles fading.

"Yeah, we are," Harry replied cautiously, keeping his tone calm. "Is that a problem?"

"A problem?" The man let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. "I just didn't think you'd-" He looked at Louis but cut himself off, the rest of his words swallowed by anger. "You should've said something sooner, man. This... I don't know."

The tension at the table was palpable now, the laughter and good vibes evaporating in an instant. Louis tried to interject, his voice low and placating, but it was no use. Zayn pushed back his chair abruptly, the screech of metal on tile piercing through the music.

"I need some air," He muttered before storming off, leaving the rest of the group sitting in stunned silence. Harry and Louis exchanged a glance, their hands brushing together under the table, a silent promise of solidarity as Louis stood up to follow behind his best friend.

**

Louis

"Zayn! Hey, wait up!"

Louis jogged after him, his leather jacket flapping as he hurried down the steps. Zayn stopped, his back to Louis, fists clenched at his sides. For a moment, he didn't turn around, the tension in his body visible for Louis.

"Zayn," Louis said again, softer this time, as he came up beside him. "What the hell was that? You just left."

Zayn turned sharply, his eyes blazing. "What do you expect me to do, Louis? Sit there and smile while you and Harry play happy couple? You think I'm just gonna pretend everything's fine?"

Louis frowned, glancing back toward the bar where the muffled bass still thudded. "Zayn, calm down. It's not like that."

"Not like that?" Zayn snapped, his voice low but filled with frustration. He stepped closer, his eyes locking on Louis. "You know what's at stake here. And now, you're out here making it harder than it already is."

Louis sighed and took a step back, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know, alright? I know. But I've got it under control."

Zayn let out a bitter laugh, pacing a few steps before turning back to Louis. "Control? You call that control? You're out here with Harry, looking at him like he hung the damn moon, and I'm supposed to believe you've got this handled?"

Louis's jaw tightened. "I told you, I have a plan," he said, his voice steady but firm. "Nothing's gonna slip. I'm not gonna mess this up, Zayn. You've gotta trust me."

"Trust you?" Zayn echoed, shaking his head. "How am I supposed to trust you when it's obvious how you feel about him? What happens when he finds out? About us?"

"He won't," Louis insisted, stepping closer, his voice dropping. "You think I don't know what's at risk? You think I don't care? I've been working on this for months, Zayn. Everything is gonna be fine."

Zayn stared at him, searching his face for something - reassurance, a crack in his composure, anything. But Louis's expression was calm, his blue eyes steady.

"Why do I feel like you're lying to yourself, too?" Zayn said finally, his voice quieter now. "Like you're telling me what I wanna hear so I won't fall apart."

Louis hesitated for the briefest of moments, then placed a hand on Zayn's shoulder. "I wouldn't lie to you, mate. Not about this. I know it's messy, but trust me- we're gonna come out of this okay. Harry's not gonna know. No one's gonna know."

Zayn's eyes flicked down to where Louis's hand rested, then back up to meet his gaze. "And what about you?" he asked softly. "What if you do fall for him? For real?"

Louis exhaled sharply, his hand dropping back to his side. "That's not gonna happen."

"You sure about that?" Zayn pressed, though his voice was barely above a whisper now.

Louis didn't answer right away, his eyes drifting back toward the bar. The muffled hum of music carried on, a reminder of the world waiting inside. Finally, he turned back to Zayn, his expression resolute.

"I've got this, Zayn," he said firmly. "Just trust me."

Zayn nodded slowly, though the doubt in his eyes remained. "Alright," he muttered. "For now."

And that was enough. That was enough for Louis at least for now. For now. He just needed time. Time to figure it all out. To create a new plan. Because - what he just said was all a big lie.

He had already fallen for Harry. And there was no going back now.

Zayn and Louis reentered the bar, a heavy feeling washing over them again as they made their way back to the table. The tension that had gripped the pair outside was carefully masked now, both of them slipping on neutral expressions as they rejoined the group.

At the table, the other three men were deep in conversation, their laughter cutting through the noise of the bar. The unease that had been left behind after Zayn's exit seemed to have dissipated. Louis slid into his seat next to Harry, while Zayn took the spot furthest from him, his posture rigid but his face composed.

"Everything alright?" Harry asked, his gaze flicking between Louis and Zayn. His tone was casual, but there was a hint of concern buried underneath.

"Yeah, all good," Louis replied quickly, brushing it off with an easy smile. "Just needed some air, didn't we, Zayn?"

Zayn gave a short nod, avoiding Harry's eyes. "Yeah. Long day, you know how it is."

The others didn't push. The conversation shifted back to lighter topics. Louis leaned back in his chair, laughing when Harry made some dry quip, his hand brushing against Harry's on the table. Zayn's jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his beer clutched tightly in one hand.

One by one, the group began to dwindle. Liam was the first to leave, mumbling something about an early morning. Niall followed soon after, yawning theatrically as he announced he couldn't keep up with their "wild" nights anymore - funny hearing that from the Irish lad. Zayn lingered just long enough to avoid suspicion before excusing himself with a curt nod, muttering something about needing sleep.

And then, it was just Louis and Harry.

The bar felt quieter now, though the music still on in the background. Harry leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed as he studied Louis with a thoughtful expression. Louis took a sip of his drink, feeling the weight of Harry's gaze.

"So," Harry began, breaking the silence. "What did Zayn say out there?"

Louis blinked, feigning confusion. "What do you mean?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Louis. He storms out of here, you follow him, and now he barely looks at us when he's back. Something's clearly going on."

Louis leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table giving Harry a reassuring smile. "It's nothing, Harry. Just a bit of drama he's dealing with."

Harry didn't look convinced. "It didn't seem like nothing," he said, his voice quieter now. "And honestly, I can't shake the feeling that there's something off with him."

Louis's heart skipped a beat, but he kept his expression neutral. "Off how?"

Harry hesitated, drumming his fingers against the edge of the table. "I don't know. It's like... I feel like I know him from somewhere. Like I've seen him before, but I can't figure out where."

Louis stiffened, his mind racing. He forced a laugh, shaking his head. "You're probably just overthinking it. I mean, Zayn's not exactly one for small talk, so maybe that's why he seems a bit... closed off."

Harry didn't laugh. His green eyes narrowed slightly as he searched Louis's face. "Are you sure there's nothing else going on? With him? With you?"

Louis reached across the table, his hand covering Harry's. "I promise you, H, everything's fine," He said softly. "I've got everything under control. You don't need to worry about Zayn or... anything else."

Harry's expression softened at Louis's touch, though the uncertainty lingered in his eyes. "Alright," He said finally, his voice reluctant. "I trust you."

Louis smiled, leaning in slightly. "Good. Because I'm really fond of you, and I wouldn't let anything mess this up."

Harry's lips curved into a small smile, but as they sat there together, Louis couldn't shake the weight in his chest. He knew Harry's instincts were sharper than he let on, and the cracks in his carefully constructed plan were starting to show.

For now, though, all he could do was hold onto the moment and hope that everything really would be okay.

Chapter Text

The crime scene was grim. Police tape fluttered in the cold night breeze, and the metallic scent of blood mixed with damp earth hung in the air. Harry stood frozen, staring at the body lying in the grass, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

"Harry," Louis's voice was calm but firm as he stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on Harry's arm. "Don't jump to conclusions."

"What if it's her?" Harry's voice cracked as he spoke, his wide green eyes fixed on the pale figure under the tarp. His hands were clenched into fists, and his whole body trembled with restrained panic. "What if it's Gemma?"

"It's not," Louis said softly, though his heart ached for Harry. "Let's confirm it first, okay? Breathe."

Niall appeared from the other side of the taped-off area, his face grim but composed. He gave Louis a quick glance before focusing on Harry. "They're ready for us," he said. "Come on."

Harry hesitated, his feet rooted to the ground, but Louis didn't let go of his arm. With a gentle tug, he guided Harry toward the body. When they reached the tarp, the coroner gave them a sympathetic nod before pulling it back.

The young woman lying beneath it was pale, her lifeless eyes staring blankly at the sky. Her hair was blonde, tangled and matted with dirt. Louis felt Harry's sharp intake of breath beside him, his entire body tense, but then - relief.

"It's not her," Harry whispered, his voice barely audible. He stumbled back a step, his hand running through his hair as he exhaled shakily. "It's not Gemma."

Louis moved closer, his hand resting on Harry's back. "I told you. But we're not done here. Whoever she is, she deserves justice. We need to focus."

Harry nodded, his jaw tightening as he pushed his panic aside. "You're right."

Niall cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "There's more. The same symbol was carved into her wrist as the last two victims." He handed Louis a photo taken from the scene, a crude carving of a lily, its petals jagged and uneven. They've discovered it after the first victim. But she had it tattooed so the forensics didn't think much of it at first. The second victim though, she had it on the inside of her thigh so they only discovered that after the autopsy.

Louis's stomach twisted as he stared at the symbol. 

"It's ecaxtly like before." He muttered, more to himself than the others.

Harry stepped closer, his voice low and urgent. "You've really dealt with them before."

"Yes," Louis admitted, meeting Harry's gaze, trying to stay in character. "But I didn't know they'd expanded their operations. Back then, it was contained to Germany and parts of Eastern Europe. If they're here now... I had hope it wasn't them, maybe a copycat."

"It's bigger than we thought," Niall said, running a hand over his face. "This isn't just some local operation. This is organized."

Harry's expression hardened, his earlier panic replaced by determination. "If they're the ones who took Gemma, we're going to take them down. Every last one of them."

Louis nodded, though his mind was racing. The Red Lily wasn't just another criminal group, they were ruthless, precise, and always one step ahead. And if Harry's father and other powerful men were involved, this was going to be even more dangerous than he'd initially thought.

"We need to regroup," Louis said. "Pull every file we have on the Red Lily and cross-reference it with what we know about these cases. There might be a connection we haven't seen yet."

Niall nodded. "I'll get started on that."

As Niall walked off, Harry turned to Louis, his eyes searching his face. "There's something you're not telling me," he said quietly.

Louis hesitated but shook his head. "Not here," He said, glancing around at the officers and forensics teams nearby. "I'll explain everything, I promise. But right now, we need to stay focused. This is about finding Gemma - and stopping them before anyone else gets hurt."

Harry's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Alright. Let's get to work."

As they left the crime scene, Louis couldn't help but feel the weight of the past pressing down on him. He'd faced the Red Lily once before, that was true. This time, with Harry by his side and so much more at stake, the stakes felt impossibly high. But he couldn't let fear stop him. He'd promised Harry everything would be okay, and he was determined to keep that promise, no matter what it cost him.

And not only for Harry's sake but for his own too.

**

The study was quiet, the only sound the faint ticking of an antique clock on the wall. Harry stood near the door, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his green eyes sharp and blazing with emotion. His father sat behind a large mahogany desk, composed and stern.

"I know you're hiding something," Harry began, his voice steady but edged with anger. "And I'm done letting you dodge my questions."

Desmond raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his tone calm but dismissive. "If this is about the case-"

"This isn't just about the case, Dad," Harry interrupted, stepping closer. "This is about everything. About Gem. About mum. About the things you've kept from me my whole life." He slammed his hand down on the desk, making Des' pen rattle. "No more excuses. I want the truth."

Desmond's expression didn't waver, but his eyes darkened. "Careful, Harry," he warned. "You're letting your emotions cloud your judgment."

Harry let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "Cloud my judgment? Are you serious? I'm trying to find my sister, and you-" His voice broke for a moment before he forced himself to continue. "You're sitting here like this is some boardroom meeting, playing the same games you always play."

Desmond sighed and stood, towering over the desk as he met Harry's gaze. "You don't understand how these things work," He said evenly. "There are things to this-things you don't need to concern yourself with."

"Things?" Harry spat. "Like you cheating on Mum? Is that one of the things I don't need to concern myself with?"

Desmond flinched, his calm facade cracking for the first time. "That has nothing to do with this."

"So it's true then? It has everything to do with this!" Harry shouted. "Do you think I didn't notice the lies? The late nights, the 'business trips'? You've been lying to me and Gemma for as long as I can remember. And now you're doing it again." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "What do you know about the Red Lily?"

His father froze for a fraction of a second, just long enough for Harry to catch it. It was subtle, but it was there, and it was all the confirmation Harry needed.

"You know something," Harry said, his voice trembling. "Don't you?"

Desmond straightened, his expression hardening into a mask of authority. "I've told you before, Harry: I don't know anything that isn't already in the files. If you're looking for answers, you're looking in the wrong place."

"Bullshit," Harry snapped. "You flinched. You hesitated. You know about them, and you're hiding it. How many more girls have to die before you decide to tell the truth?"

Desmond's jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Watch your tone," He said quietly, his voice laced with warning. "You don't know what you're dealing with."

"No," Harry shot back, "you don't know what you're dealing with. I'm not a kid anymore, Dad. I'm not scared of you, and I'm not going to let you brush me off. If you know something about the Red Lily, about Gemma, you need to tell me."

Desmond stared at him for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then he turned away, walking over to the window and gazing out into the dark night. "You think this is simple," He said, his voice low. "That the truth will fix everything. But some truths are more dangerous than lies, Harry."

Harry's fists clenched at his sides. "Don't give me that cryptic bullshit," He said. "I've lost count of how many times you've told me to 'trust the system' or 'follow the rules.' But this? This is different. This is Gemma. My sister. Your daughter. How can you just stand there and act like none of this matters?"

Desmond turned back to him, his expression unreadable but his eyes full of something Harry couldn't quite place. Regret, fear, guilt. "It does matter," He said quietly. "More than you know. But you have no idea what you're stepping into."

"Then tell me!" Harry shouted, his voice breaking. "Stop treating me like some idiot who can't handle the truth. If you know something, anything, about the Red Lily, I need to know. For Gemma. For mum. For all the girls who've already died."

For a moment, it looked like Desmond might say something, like the weight of his secrets was finally too much to bear. But then he shook his head, his face closing off again. "I can't," He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Harry stared at him, a mix of disbelief and fury etched into his face. "You can't? Or you won't?"

Desmond didn't answer.

The silence between them was deafening, heavy with the weight of all the unspoken truths that hung in the air. Finally, Harry stepped back, shaking his head. "You're a coward," He said, his voice cold. "You've always been a coward."

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the study, slamming the door behind him.

**

Harry leaned against his car in the parking lot outside his parent's estate, the cool night air brushing against his skin. His phone was pressed tightly to his ear, his voice tense as he spoke.

"He didn't give me anything," Harry said, his frustration evident. "Not a bloody thing. Just more cryptic nonsense about how I don't know what I'm dealing with. I swear he's hiding something, Louis. I could see it in his eyes."

On the other end of the line, Louis sat at his desk in his apartment, gripping the phone tightly. His expression was calm, but inside, his stomach churned. He knew Harry wasn't wrong, Desmond  was hiding something. But what Harry didn't realize was that Louis was hiding even more.

"Maybe he's just trying to protect you," Louis said, his voice measured, careful. "Your dad's been a cop his whole life. He's bound to know things he can't share."

Harry let out a bitter laugh. "Protect me? By stonewalling me about my missing sister? That's not protection, Lou, that's cowardice."

Louis closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "I know it's frustrating," He said, his tone softening. "But maybe he genuinely doesn't know anything. Or maybe he's just scared."

"Scared of what?" Harry shot back, pacing beside his car. "What could he possibly be so scared of that he'd rather let Gemma stay missing than tell me the truth?"

Louis hesitated, his mind racing. He could almost hear the pieces clicking together in Harry's mind, the way he always thought three steps ahead. It was only a matter of time before he started asking questions Louis couldn't answer.

"Lou," Harry said after a moment, his voice quieter now. "You said you worked on a case in Germany that involved the Red Lily, that's why you came here in the first place. Is there anything - anything, from back then that might help us now? Patterns, names, connections? Anything you didn't put in the official reports?"

Louis's grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white. His father's face flashed in his mind - cold, calculating, and utterly ruthless. The man who had raised him, trained him, and then betrayed every moral Louis thought he'd instilled in him.

"There's nothing that wasn't already in the reports," Louis lied, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his chest.

"Are you sure?" Harry pressed. "Because this symbol, the lily, it's exactly the same as the one carved into the victims back then, isn't it?"

"Yes," Louis admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's the same."

"Then it has to mean something," Harry said, his voice rising with determination. "You said you thought the Red Lily was finished in Germany, thought this right now was a copyat or so. That means you must have gotten close to someone, someone high up. If we can find them, maybe we can figure out where they are now."

Louis's jaw tightened. He'd gotten closer to the leader of the Red Lily than anyone realized, closer than he wanted to admit. But the leader wasn't some faceless figure hidden in the shadows.

"I don't know where they are now," Louis said, deflecting. "Whoever's running things, they're good at covering their tracks. And if they've moved operations here, it means they've evolved. This isn't the same Red Lily we were chasing back then."

Harry sighed, the weight of the situation evident in his voice. "I just, I can't stop thinking about Gemma. If they've got her..." His voice broke slightly, and he cleared his throat. "If they've got her, we need to stop them before it's too late."

Louis closed his eyes, the guilt threatening to suffocate him. He wanted to tell Harry everything. But not without proof. Not without risking everything they'd built so far.

"We will," Louis said firmly, his voice steady even as his heart ached. "We'll find her, Haz. I promise."

On the other end of the line, Harry nodded, though Louis couldn't see it. "Thanks, Lou. I don't know what I'd do without you."

As the call ended, Louis sat back in his chair, staring at the phone in his hand. The weight of his secret felt heavier than ever.

He knew he couldn't keep the truth from Harry forever. But until he had the proof he needed, proof that would bring this down once and for all, he had no choice but to keep lying.

Because if Harry ever found out the truth, Louis wasn't sure their relationship would survive it. 

And worse, he wasn't sure he could survive losing Harry.

Chapter Text

The warm glow of the kitchen lights bathed the space in a cozy, golden hue. Fresh herbs hung from a small wooden rack above the counter, filling the air with scents of basil and rosemary. The faint sound of water boiling on the stove mixed with the soft hum of Harry.

He stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, chopping vegetables with practiced ease. His hair was slightly messy, his shirt unbuttoned so his butterfly was visible. Every now and then, he'd glance over at Louis, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

Louis, meanwhile, was hunched over the kitchen table, his laptop open and papers spread out in a chaotic mess. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his pen tapping absently against the table as he scanned a report. He wore one of Harry's hoodies that was slightly oversized and cuffed at the sleeves. Ever so often he'd push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"You know," Harry said, breaking the comfortable silence, "you could at least pretend to enjoy watching me cook like in those movies or books instead of drowning in the same files over and over."

Louis didn't look up. "I am enjoying it," He muttered, scribbling something in the document. "I'm just doing it multitasking."

Harry smirked, setting down the knife and turning to face him. "Is that so? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you've barely looked up in the last twenty minutes."

Louis finally glanced up, his expression softening when he saw Harry. "I'm sorry," He said, closing his laptop slightly. "It's just. I can't stop thinking about it. I keep feeling like we're missing something."

Harry crossed the room, wiping his hands on a dish towel before resting them on the back of Louis's chair. "We'll figure it out, you know there's no one that wants it more than me," He said gently. "But not tonight. Tonight, I'm making dinner, and we're going to take a break. Deal?"

Louis smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing a little. "What if I told you I'm terrible at taking breaks?"

Harry leaned down, his lips brushing against Louis's temple. "Then I'd say it's a good thing you've got me to remind you how."

Louis chuckled, shaking his head as Harry straightened and went back to the counter. "Fine," He said, leaning back in his chair. "But only because you're cooking. What's on the menu, anyway?"

"Something simple," Harry said, tossing chopped vegetables into a pan. "Pasta with fresh tomato sauce, garlic bread, and a little salad."

Louis raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like a feast. Trying to impress me?"

Harry shot him a playful look over his shoulder. "I don't need to try. You're already impressed."

Louis laughed, the sound light and genuine, as he reached for the glass of wine Harry had poured for him earlier. "Touché."

For a moment, the weight of the case and its secrets felt distant. The warmth of the kitchen, the sound of Harry humming along to the music, and the soft clatter of pans created a little bubble of peace. Something Louis hadn't realized he needed until now.

As Harry stirred the sauce, he glanced back at Louis and grinned. "Hey, can you maybe slice the bread?"

Louis rolled his eyes but stood up, wandering over to the counter. "You're lucky I like you," He teased, grabbing the loaf and a knife.

Harry turned to face him, his smile soft and sincere. "Yeah," He said, voice quieter. "I am."

For a second, they just stood there, the world beyond the kitchen fading into the background. Louis leaned in, brushing a kiss against Harry's lips.

"I like you too," Harry said, his grin returning. "Now get chopping."

Louis laughed, shaking his head as he got to work.

They chatted over dinner, trying to get to know each other better. Learning about their pasts and their childhood. But somewhere along the way Harry felt like Louis mood had shifted. Something about the childhood topic didn't go well he supposed but couldn't quite understand why.

"You said once you grew up with sisters. Were you the troublemaker?"

Louis chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, absolutely. I drove them mad, especially Lottie. She was always the bossy one, trying to keep me in line. The twins, Daisy and Phoebe, were the sweet ones, always looking up to me, even when I didn't deserve it." His gaze softened as he spoke, a fondness laced with bittersweetness. "They kept me grounded, especially after our mum passed."

Harry nodded, watching Louis closely. "You said you were twenty when she died, right?"

Louis looked away briefly, nodding. "Yeah." He paused, swallowing hard. "She was everything, you know? Strong, warm, always made sure we felt loved even when things were... complicated."

Harry tilted his head. "Complicated how?"

Louis's jaw tightened slightly, and for a moment, Harry thought he might shut down. But instead, Louis exhaled, his shoulders relaxing as if he'd decided it was okay to share just a little more.

"Dad wasn't exactly... reliable," Louis said carefully, his voice quiet. "He was around sometimes, but mostly he wasn't. And when he was, he didn't make things better."

Harry frowned, leaning closer. "Did he hurt you?"

"No," Louis said quickly, shaking his head. "Not physically, at least. But he wasn't the type to stick around or show he cared. Always had other priorities, business, other women, whatever else caught his attention. I think that's why mum gave everything she had to make up for it."

Harry reached out, placing a comforting hand on Louis's arm. "I'm sorry. That must've been hard."

Louis gave him a small smile, covering Harry's hand with his own. "It is what it is. When mum died, it was like he didn't know what to do with me, thankfully I was an adult already and the girls had a different father. I was already figuring out how to take care of myself. That's part of why I left for Germany."

Harry tilted his head, curious. "Why Germany, though? Of all places?"

Louis leaned back, his gaze distant as if he were remembering something long buried. "It felt like a fresh start. I wanted to get as far away from home as I could without completely vanishing. I joined the police there, thinking maybe I could... do some good, I guess." He smirked faintly, shaking his head. God he should be ashamed of how easily those lies fell from his lips. "That's where I met Zayn. We ended up sharing a flat. Got along surprisingly well for two idiots trying to figure out life in a foreign country."

Harry chuckled, imagining a younger version of Louis navigating life in Germany. "Do you - uh I mean you and Zayn did you - like, you know.."

Louis smirked. "If we slept together?" He made sure that that was what Harry was asking. "Uh. Well we tried once. Drunkenly. Safe to say neither of us could get it up so no, we never had sex."

Harry wasn't sure if that was the answer he wanted to hear. Of course he's glad it didn't work out but he can't help but feel a little jealousy over the fact that the attraction was there between them to try in the first place.

"And any boyfriends or lovers?" Harry teased, raising an eyebrow.

Louis rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. "Not much to say there. Just one night stands. Nothing serious. I wasn't exactly in a place to settle down - I think I told you that already."

Harry nodded, falling silent for a moment before saying, "Do you want that someday? Settle down I mean."

Louis's eyes softened, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "With the right partner, yeah." He said simply.

The moment hung between them, warm and unspoken, before Harry broke it with a playful grin. "But for the record, I don't buy that there's 'not much to tell.' You're full of stories, Tomlinson. One day, I'm going to get them all out of you."

Louis laughed, shaking his head. "Good luck with that, Styles."

But as Harry returned to his cooking, Louis's smile faded slightly, his thoughts lingering on the parts of his past he hadn't shared. The ones he couldn't share. The ones tied to the Red Lily, and the shadowy truth he couldn't let Harry see...not yet.

**  

The air in the station was tense, the weight of the case pressing down on the room like a heavy fog. The board in front of them was littered with photos, maps, and lines of red string connecting clues that didn't quite form a clear picture.

The images of the three dead women were pinned side by side at the center. Around them were photos of the remaining missing girls, including Gemma, their faces a constant reminder of what was at stake.

Harry stood with his arms crossed, his jaw clenched as he stared at the board. Louis was beside him, leaning against the edge of the desk with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. Niall paced back and forth behind them, his sneakers squeaking faintly against the tiled floor.

"So, what do we know?" Niall asked, breaking the heavy silence.

Harry exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "The three victims all had the same symbol carved into their wrists - the same one we found on that piece of paper in my dad's study."

"And the same one connected to the Red Lily," Louis added, his voice low.

Harry glanced at him, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Which you still haven't told us much about." He said pointedly.

Louis avoided his gaze, pretending to focus on the board. "What matters is that we know the symbol connects these murders to something bigger. We just need to figure out why exactly these girls were targeted and where to find them."

Niall stopped pacing, gesturing to the photos of the missing girls. "The connection is obvious, they all have powerful, wealthy fathers. Politicians, CEOs, judges. Someone's targeting their daughters. The question is why."

"Revenge?" Harry suggested, his tone bitter. "Maybe someone who feels like these men wronged them. Someone who couldn't get to the fathers directly, so they're going after their families instead."

"Could be," Louis said, nodding. "But it feels too... calculated for that. This isn't random. Whoever's doing this planned it out carefully. They're sending a message."

"But what kind of message?" Niall asked, crossing his arms. "And why now? These men have been wealthy and powerful for years. What's changed?"

Harry's eyes lingered on Gemma's picture, his chest tightening. "Whatever the reason, we need to stop this before it happens again. We're already three victims too late."

Louis stepped closer to the board, tapping the photo of one of the murdered women. "All three victims were killed in different ways - poisoning, drowning, and strangulation. But the symbol on their wrists ties them together. It's like a calling card."

"And a warning," Niall added grimly. "Whoever's behind this wants us to know they're not done."

Harry clenched his fists, his frustration boiling just beneath the surface. "We need to figure out what these fathers have in common. If we can find a connection between them, maybe we can figure out who's doing this and why."

Louis nodded, pulling a file off the desk and flipping it open. "Let's start with the obvious. Business deals, political alliances, shared memberships in exclusive clubs. Anything that ties them together."

"Or secrets," Harry said darkly. "What I found out at the meeting, my dad cheating on my mum. What if that has something to do with it?"

Niall frowned. "Do you think your dad could be the reason Gemma was taken? Maybe someone's trying to punish him specifically."

Harry shook his head, though he didn't look convinced. "I don't know. He's a detective, same as us. But he's hiding something more, and until I figure out what it is, I can't rule him out."

The room fell silent again as they all stared at the board, the unanswered questions hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

"Okay," Louis said after a moment, his voice cutting through the tension. "First step, we dig into the fathers' connections. Niall, you take a look at their financial records - see if there's any overlap in investments or payments to shady organizations. Harry, you focus on your dad. Press him for more information, whether he wants to give it or not."

"And what about you?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"I'll look into the Red Lily," Louis said, his tone steady. "If this is connected to what happened in Germany, what I'm sure of because otherwise I wouldn't be here, we need to get a move."

Harry studied him for a moment, as if trying to read something in his expression. "Fine," he said finally. "But if you know something you're not telling me -"

"I don't," Louis interrupted, meeting his gaze. "I promise, Harry. I'm doing everything I can to help."

Harry nodded reluctantly, though the tension between them lingered.

"Alright," Niall said, clapping his hands together. "Let's get to it, then. The sooner we figure this out, the sooner we can stop this bastard."

As they each turned to their tasks, the weight of the case pressed down on them once more. But beneath it all, Louis felt an even heavier burden. If the truth about his father ever came to light, he knew it could destroy everything.

For now, all he could do was hope he found the answers they needed before it was too late.

Chapter Text

HARRY

The weight of the case was beginning to feel unbearable. Harry sat in the dim glow of his desk lamp, the office silent except for the faint hum of the heating. Niall's revelation about the fathers of the missing girls had shaken him to his core.

Affairs. Prostitutes. Blackmail. It was an ugly trail that led to more questions than answers, but one thing was certain: the men involved weren't innocent. They were liars, cowards, and some had even refused to pay for their illicit encounters, hoping to keep their reputations clean. And what's hurting him the most is that his own father was amongst them.

Harry exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his temples. The pieces weren't adding up, and the feeling that there was something bigger lurking beneath the surface wouldn't leave him alone. He looked at the folder on his desk, filled with details Niall had uncovered, but it felt like there was still something missing. Something is not adding up. 

A soft knock at the door startled him. Before he could respond, Louis stepped inside, his face shadowed with an exhaustion Harry recognized but couldn't quite place.

"Hey," Louis said, his voice quiet but steady as he closed the door behind him. He held two steaming mugs in his hands and placed one on Harry's desk.

Harry gave him a small smile, grateful for the gesture, though the tension in the room remained thick. "Thanks," He said, taking the mug and wrapping his hands around its warmth.

Louis settled into the chair opposite him, his eyes scanning the files spread across the desk. He didn't say anything for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line. Harry studied him, noticing the subtle shift in his expression, an unspoken weight behind his usually confident demeanor.

"What's on your mind?" Harry finally asked, breaking the silence.

Louis glanced up, his blue eyes meeting Harry's. For a second, he looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he shook his head and reached for one of the files. "Just trying to make sense of all this," He replied, his tone carefully neutral.

Harry narrowed his eyes. He knew Louis well enough by now to recognize when he was holding back. "You're not telling me everything," He said bluntly, his voice low but firm.

Louis froze, the file halfway open in his hands. His jaw tightened, and Harry saw the flicker of guilt flash across his face before he masked it.

"Harry-"

"Don't," Harry interrupted, leaning forward and pinning him with a piercing gaze. "Don't do that. Don't act like I'm imagining things. I know there's something you're not saying, and it's killing me that you won't trust me enough to tell me."

Louis set the file down carefully, his hands trembling just slightly. He looked away, his gaze fixed on the mug in front of him. For a moment, Harry thought he wasn't going to answer, but then Louis spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

"There are things about this case, about the Red Lily, that I can't tell you. Not yet."

Harry's heart sank. "Why not? We're partners, Louis. We're supposed to have each other's backs."

"I know," Louis said quickly, his voice breaking slightly. He looked up, his blue eyes filled with a mix of guilt and something else Harry couldn't quite name. "But this isn't just about us. It's bigger than that. Harry you knew from the beginning that I'm familiar with the group. That's why I was ordered here."

Harry stared at him, stunned. "You know who's behind this," He said, the realization hitting him like a punch to the gut. "Why do I have the feeling that we could have made much more progress, that you're holding back?"

Louis didn't deny it. He looked down again, his hands gripping the edges of the desk. "I have my suspicions," He admitted. "And if I'm right, the people behind the Red Lily, they're not just criminals. They're powerful. Connected. They'll do whatever it takes to protect their operation, and that includes taking out anyone who gets too close."

Harry's mind raced. He felt a surge of anger and frustration, but beneath that was something softer, a flicker of understanding. Louis wasn't keeping secrets to hurt him. He was doing it because he was scared. Right?

"Louis," Harry said softly, reaching across the desk to place a hand on his. "You don't have to do this alone. Whatever you're hiding, whatever you're scared of, we'll figure it out together."

Louis cleared his throat, the weight of Harry's gaze still heavy on him. The guilt clawed at his insides, and for a moment, he thought he might crack. How could he ever tell Harry the truth? That he always knew who was behind the Red Lily. The thought was unbearable. If Harry ever found out...

No. He couldn't let that happen. Not now. Not ever.

"Well," Louis said abruptly, sitting up straighter and forcing a neutral tone into his voice, "we can't afford to waste any more time. We need to go back and re-interview all the families, especially the fathers." He flipped open one of the files on the desk, using it as a shield to avoid meeting Harry's eyes.

Harry frowned, clearly still focused on their earlier conversation, but Louis pressed on before he could say anything. "If Niall's right and the fathers were all involved with these women, then they might have seen or heard something that could lead us to whoever's running this."

"And you think they'll just admit to it?" Harry asked skeptically, crossing his arms. "Most of them were blackmailed into silence. They'll lie through their teeth to keep their secrets buried."

"Maybe," Louis conceded, tapping the edge of the file with his fingers. "But there's always something - something they slip up on. A name. A place. Even a detail they think doesn't matter. We just need to push the right buttons."

Harry's eyes narrowed, and Louis could feel him studying him, trying to read between the lines. "You seem awfully sure about this," Harry said slowly.

Louis forced a shrug, his heart pounding in his chest. "It's basic profiling, love," He said casually, though the term of endearment slipped out unintentionally. He saw Harry's lips twitch slightly, softening his expression. "They're all scared of being exposed, which means they're holding back. If we can break through that fear, we might get something useful."

Harry sighed, running a hand through his curls. "And the prostitutes? We need to find them too. They're the ones who've probably seen these men up close. They might have information about anyone connected to the Red Lily."

"Exactly," Louis said quickly, grateful for the shift in focus. "They're the key. If we can track down even one or two of them, it could blow the case wide open."

Harry nodded, his frustration easing slightly. "Alright. Then we start there. We'll question the families again, but we also need to put out feelers for anyone who might know how to contact these women. Oh and, I would like to be the one talking to my dad again, I - I just need to know that he's not involved like the other men. That it's all a misunderstanding."

"Agreed," Louis said, standing up and grabbing his coat. "Let's get Niall in on this."

As Harry stood to follow him, Louis stole a glance at him, guilt stabbing through his chest once more. He hated keeping secrets from him, hated lying to someone who had started to mean so much to him. But what choice did he have? He shouldn't have caught feelings in the first place. Should've kept it professional.

So Louis pushed the thought down, burying it deep as he opened the door and stepped into the hallway. For now, he would focus on the case. On keeping Harry safe. On stopping the Red Lily before it could destroy any more lives.

But the secret weighed heavily on him, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that the truth would eventually come to light. 

Chapter Text

Harry sat in the living room of his parents' house, the tension thick enough to suffocate him. He'd been here countless times - of course, well he lived there - but today the warm, familiar space felt strange, tainted by the weight of the conversation about to unfold. Anne sat across from him on the edge of the floral-patterned sofa, her face pale and drawn. She looked confused, hurt even, though she didn't yet know the full extent of why. His father lingered near the window, hands clasped tightly behind his back as if bracing for a storm.

It was time. No more excuses. No more avoidance. Harry had kept quiet long enough.

"Mum" Harry began, his voice softer than usual, as though trying to shield her from the bomb he was about to drop. "We need to talk about Dad. About everything."

Anne frowned, glancing between her son and her husband. "Harry, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

Desmond shifted uncomfortably but didn't say a word. His gaze remained fixed on the street outside, avoiding both Harry and Anne.

Harry's jaw tightened. If his father wasn't going to speak, then he would. "I know about the affair," He said bluntly, his voice cutting through the room like a knife. "I've known for a while now."

Anne froze, her hands gripping the armrests of the sofa as her wide eyes locked onto her son. "What?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Dad cheated on you, Mum," Harry said, forcing the words out even as guilt twisted in his chest. He hated seeing the way her face crumbled, the way her shoulders sagged under the weight of the revelation. 

Anne gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she turned to Desmond. "Is this true?" she demanded, her voice trembling with both hurt and anger.

Desmond finally turned away from the window, his expression a mixture of shame and resignation. "Anne, I-"

"Is it true?" She repeated, louder this time, her voice cracking under the strain.

"Yes," Desmond admitted, his voice hollow. "It's true."

The room fell into a deafening silence. Harry could feel the tension vibrating in the air, the unspoken pain ricocheting between the three of them.

"How could you?" Anne whispered, tears streaming down her face.

Harry stood, unable to sit still any longer. The sight of his mother's heartbreak, his father's ignorance, it was too much. He paced the room, running a hand through his curls as he tried to think.

And then he left. What was he thinking? What the fuck was he thinking by coming here and throwing this on his mother's head. Without knowing anything more for sure yet. And then just storming out. What a fucking idiot he was.

Harry gripped the steering wheel with one hand while his phone connected the call. The rain outside blurred the windshield, matching the storm brewing inside his chest. His call to Niall and Louis wasn't planned, but after leaving his parents' house, he couldn't keep everything bottled up.

"I talked to my parents," Harry started, his voice tight, trying to keep his emotions in check. "Dad admitted to the affair."

There was a beat of silence on the other end before Niall's voice came through, steady but tinged with urgency. "Right, well, I'm not sure why you did that, but maybe he feels pressured enough to break now."

Harry exhaled, his grip on the wheel loosening slightly. "We need answers, Niall. This whole thing feels bigger than we thought."

"It is," Niall agreed, his tone firm but cautious. "But don't push yourself too hard, mate. You've already had a rough night."

Harry didn't respond to that, instead letting his gaze drift to the passing streetlights. The weight of his mother's tears and his father's shame still hung heavy on his shoulders. He glanced at the phone screen, noting that Louis hadn't said a word since joining the call.

"Lou? You there?" Harry asked, frowning slightly.

There was a pause before Louis finally spoke, his voice softer than usual. "Yeah, I'm here."

But that was all. No follow-up. No reassurance. Just those three words that felt more like a wall than a connection.

Harry's brow furrowed. He knew Louis well enough by now to recognize when he was holding back, and it sent a ripple of unease through him. "You've been quiet," Harry said, his tone laced with concern.

"Just... thinking," Louis replied vaguely. "It's a lot to process. We'll regroup tomorrow, yeah? Go over everything properly."

Harry's fingers tapped anxiously against the steering wheel, but he didn't press. He knew better than to push Louis when he wasn't ready to talk. "Alright," he said after a moment. "Tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow," Louis echoed.

The call ended shortly after, leaving Harry alone with the hum of the car engine and the soft patter of rain against the windshield. Something about Louis's tone nagged at him, a quiet voice in the back of his mind whispering that there was more to his silence than just being overwhelmed.

But Harry shook the thought away. They'd sort it out tomorrow. They had to.

**

Louis

Louis stared at his phone, the screen glowing in the dark room as his father's message stared back at him, taunting him. The words were unmistakable, the tone as venomous as ever:

"You'll never find me, son. You'll never stop me. You've always been smart, but even you can't win this game. Why fight it? You could still join me. Step into your rightful place. Think about it."

His stomach churned, a wave of nausea rolling through him. His fingers clenched the phone tightly as if he could crush the words away. It was his father - his own father -mocking him, threatening him, and dangling this twisted offer in front of him like it was some kind of olive branch.

Louis felt bile rise in his throat. He hated him. Hated the man for what he'd done, for what he represented, for the lives destroyed under his command. And yet... the bastard was right about one thing: Louis couldn't find him. He'd spent years chasing shadows, combing through leads that evaporated into nothing. Every step forward felt like his father was ten steps ahead. 

He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment, the weight of it all pressing down on him. His father was untouchable, a ghost in the system he himself had built. And now he had the gall to offer Louis a way out. Or, rather, a way in.

His first instinct was to throw the phone across the room, to let the rage inside him explode, but he didn't. Instead, his mind raced, calculating. Maybe... maybe the only way to destroy him was to get closer. Close enough to see the cracks, to understand his moves. Maybe if Louis pretended to consider his offer, to step into the role his father always wanted him to take, he could dismantle the operation from within.

The thought made his skin crawl, but what other choice did he have? They were getting nowhere. Harry, Niall, the entire investigation - they were stuck in a cycle of dead ends, even with his knowledge, he was as clueless as them. And every day that passed, more lives were ruined, more people disappeared.

He stared at the message again, the words blurring as his emotions threatened to overtake him. "Step into your rightful place."

Louis's jaw tightened.

Could he really do that?

Chapter Text

The bedroom was quiet, illuminated by the soft, muted glow of a single bedside lamp. The world outside seemed to melt away as Harry and Louis stood close, mere inches between them, their breaths mingling in the stillness.

Louis reached up, his fingers brushing softly against Harry's jawline, tracing the curve of his cheek with a tenderness that sent a shiver down Harry's spine. "You're so beautiful," Louis murmured, his voice low and husky, his words laced with sincerity.

Harry's lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, he cupped Louis's face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over the faint stubble on his jaw. For a moment, they simply looked at each other, green meeting blue, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

And then Harry leaned in, his lips finding Louis' in a kiss that was soft at first, almost tentative, but quickly deepened as their emotions spilled over. Louis responded with equal passion, his hands sliding up to Harry's shoulders, gripping him as if anchoring himself. Their bodies pressed together, and the warmth of their connection was electric, igniting something that neither could hold back any longer.

Harry guided Louis backward toward the bed, their lips never parting as they stumbled together. When the backs of Louis's knees hit the mattress, he let himself fall, pulling Harry down with him. Harry's weight settled over him, solid and grounding, and Louis let out a soft, contented sigh as Harry's lips began to trail down his jawline, then to the sensitive skin of his neck.

"Harry.." Louis breathed, his voice hitching as Harry's teeth grazed the delicate spot just below his ear. His hands tangled in Harry's curls, tugging gently, earning a low hum from the man above him.

Harry pulled back for a moment, his gaze roaming over Louis with an intensity that made Louis's heart race. "Are you okay?" Harry asked, his voice soft but steady, his hands framing Louis's face.

Louis nodded, his eyes shining with trust and desire. "I've never been more okay" he whispered.

That was all Harry needed. He kissed Louis again, slower this time, savoring the moment as his hands moved to the hem of Louis's shirt, pushing it up and over his head. He took a moment to admire the expanse of Louis's skin, the way his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath. Harry ran his hands over Louis's torso, his touch reverent, as if memorizing every inch of him.

They took their time undressing each other, their movements unhurried, every touch, every kiss charged with emotion. When they were finally bare before each other, the vulnerability of the moment hit them both. Like it was the first time all over again - and to some extent it was. 

Harry pressed his forehead to Louis's, their breaths mingling once more as he whispered, "I really really like you." The words came out easily though it felt as if it was a different word wanting to make an appearance in this moment.

Louis's eyes glistened as a soft smile curved his lips. "I really really like you too," he replied, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

What followed was a slow, intimate joining of their bodies and souls. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word was a declaration, a promise that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. Their movements were in perfect harmony, as if they'd been made for each other, and when they finally reached the peak of their connection, it was with a shared sense of completeness they'd never experienced before.

Afterward, they lay tangled together under the covers, their limbs entwined, their breaths slowly evening out. Harry pressed a gentle kiss to Louis's temple, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back.

Louis sighed contentedly, burying his face in Harry's chest. It was paradise as much as it was a war zone. But for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt at peace.

**

The early morning light bathed the room in a golden hue, the warmth from last night still lingering in the quiet air. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, his bare back to Louis, who was still wrapped in the sheets, his soft breathing filling the silence. For a moment, Harry allowed himself the intimacy of the moment, the taste still on his tongue, the heat, where he laid, he knew he could stay right there and burn in it all day. But his peace was short-lived.

A soft vibration broke the stillness, pulling Harry's attention to Louis's phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up briefly, and Harry couldn't stop his eyes from glancing at it. He wasn't trying to pry but ...

Zayn.

Z: Styles doesn't know yet, does he? We need to be careful.

Harry's heart dropped into his stomach. He could feel the blood drain from his face as his mind raced, the words flashing in his head over and over. He doesn't know. Know what?

He inhaled sharply, trying to calm the sudden rush of anxiety. The message could mean anything. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but the knot forming in his chest told him otherwise.

He turned to glance at Louis, who was still fast asleep, his hair a mess of soft brown strands against the pillow. He looked so peaceful, so content, and Harry hated the way his stomach churned with doubt. The Louis he knew, the Louis he trusted, wouldn't keep secrets. They promised each other. But that message...

Harry rubbed his hands over his face, trying to think clearly. He couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't a coincidence. Zayn's message wasn't just cryptic; it was personal. It felt like a piece of a much larger puzzle that Harry hadn't even realized he was a part of.

Harry stood and began to get dressed, each movement slow and deliberate. His mind was spinning, but he knew one thing for certain: he needed answers. He couldn't leave it like that, not when things between him and Louis were just beginning.

Louis stirred as Harry slipped his shirt on, his blue eyes blinking open sleepily.
"You're up early," He murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

Harry forced a small smile. "Yeah, couldn't sleep much," He said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him.

Louis sat up, running a hand through his messy hair. "You okay? You seem... off."

"I'm fine," Harry replied quickly, avoiding Louis's gaze. "Just a lot on my mind. The case, you know."

Louis frowned, but he didn't press. "Alright. You heading out?"

Harry nodded, grabbing his keys. "Yeah. Niall wanted to go over a few things today. I'll see you later?"

Louis smiled softly, his eyes warm as he reached for Harry's hand. "Of course. Be careful, yeah?"

Harry squeezed his hand briefly, his heart aching with the weight of his doubts. "Always."

As he left the apartment, Harry's mind was already racing. He needed to figure out what was going on. And if Louis wasn't going to tell him the truth, he'd find it out himself.

**

Niall sat in his chair, his brow furrowed as he listened intently to Harry's hushed explanation.

"There's something off about this, Niall," Harry said, his voice low but firm. "I saw a message on Louis's phone this morning. It was from Zayn. And it wasn't just some casual conversation. It was cryptic. Suspicious." He hesitated, his jaw tightening. "It said, 'Styles doesn't know yet, does he? We need to be careful.' Or something along those lines."

Niall leaned back, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the arm of his chair. "And you think this might be... connected to the case?"

Harry shook his head, his frustration evident. "I don't know. That's the problem." He rubbed the back of his neck.

Niall raised an eyebrow. "You're sure it wasn't just... something personal? Between Louis and Zayn?"

Harry's jaw clenched, and he looked away briefly. "Maybe. But I can't shake the feeling there's more to it especially because I'm so sure I've seen Zayn before, like years before, Niall. And it doesn't help that Louis is... holding back. I know he's keeping something from me."

"Mate, spying on your boyfriend's messages it's not like you," Niall pointed out, his tone light but edged with concern. "You think Louis is hiding something about the case?"

Harry hesitated. "I don't want to think that. But it's not just the message. It's the way Louis reacts whenever I ask certain questions." He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And now with Zayn... I need to know who he is."

Niall sat forward, his tone serious now. "Alright. Let's take a step back. Do you have any more details about him? What was his last name again?"

"Rogers," Harry said. "I've checked him before, but nothing. But I feel like I came across him before. Maybe in a case. Could you help me dig into it? Find out who he is, how he's tied to Louis, or the case, if he even is."

Niall nodded, already pulling up the department database. "Alright. Let's start with what we've got. I'll run the name, see if anything pops up."

As Niall typed, Harry's mind raced. He couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just a coincidence. The past few years had been filled with cases that blurred the lines between personal and professional, but something about this one felt different.

"What if he's tied to the Red Lily?" Harry murmured, more to himself than Niall.

Niall glanced up, his expression grim. "Let's not jump to conclusions just yet. For all we know,  Zayn is Louis best friend, someone unrelated to all this."

Harry gave him a sharp look. "And if he's not? What if this is bigger than we thought?"

The screen in front of Niall dinged softly, and he leaned in closer, scanning the information that popped up. "Huh. That's... interesting."

"What?" Harry stepped closer, his heartbeat quickening.

"No Zayn Rogers in the recent datas. But, there's a Zayn Malik in the restricted system. And the file's sealed. Most of it's sealed actually. Though this person is fitting our Zayn." Niall frowned, clicking through a few more tabs. "It's tied to an old case. A hostage situation from a few years back."

Harry's blood ran cold. The memory slammed into him like a freight train. The hostage situation. The chaos. The gunfire. The moment Harry pulled the trigger to take down the shooter.. and the devastating aftermath.

"Zayn Malik," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. It was him. The man who had lost his sister that day. The man who had disappeared after changing his identity, blaming Harry for everything.

"Harry," Niall said cautiously, his tone filled with concern. "You alright?"

Harry stared at the screen, his jaw tight. "He's connected to Louis," he said, his voice low and filled with a dangerous mix of anger and confusion. "And he's tied to me, to my past. Niall, I need everything you can find on him. Now. I need to know what his plan is."

Niall hesitated for a moment, clearly aware of the weight of the situation, before nodding. "Alright, I'll dig deeper. But Harry... be careful. This could get messy."

Harry's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "It already is."

Chapter Text

The sun had long disappeared as Harry and Niall sat slumped in their chairs, the weight of hours of relentless digging hanging heavy over them.

Papers were scattered across the desk between them, along with printouts of files and a grainy black-and-white photo of a younger Zayn.

"That's him, alright," Niall said, breaking the heavy silence. He tapped a finger on the old case file. "Zayn Malik. Now Zayn Rogers. Orphan, one deceased sister. Changed his identity, grew out a beard, covered himself in tattoos, and vanished to escape his old life and the people that were after him after his sister's death. Not exactly a clean break, but it worked for him."

Harry leaned back in his chair, his face shadowed with exhaustion. "It makes sense now," He murmured, staring at the photograph. "The way Louis said Zayn was protective, closed off... it's because he's been living like a ghost. Running from the fallout, from his past."

Niall nodded, his gaze serious. "But it doesn't look like he's tied to the Red Lily. At least, nothing in his records suggests anything criminal beyond his disappearance. Just bad luck that Louis ended up being friends with him."

Harry's jaw tightened. "Or not bad luck. Maybe Louis knows more than he's letting on."

"Harry," Niall said carefully, his tone bordering on warning. "You've got no proof Louis is involved in any of this. You're letting your frustration with him cloud your judgment."

Harry shot Niall a sharp look. "He's hiding something, Niall. I know it. I can feel it."

"Or maybe he's just trying to protect someone he cares about," Niall countered. "This Zayn stuff is a hundred percent unrelated to the case. It seems just something personal after what happened that day with you -"

"Don't." Harry interrupted and Niall sighed but nodded. 

"We both know Louis doesn't seem like the kind of guy who'd knowingly protect a criminal organization, right?"

Harry said nothing, his eyes flicking to the pile of evidence in front of him. He wanted to believe Niall was right, but the knot of doubt in his chest refused to loosen.

"Have you talked to Louis about any of this?" Niall asked, breaking the silence.

Harry scoffed, running a hand through his curls. "He's been calling me all day. I ignored him."

"Harry," Niall said, exasperated. "That's not exactly the healthiest way to handle this. You're letting your suspicion win, and it's gonna explode sooner or later. If you've got questions, ask him directly."

Harry clenched his fists on the desk, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "And what do I even say? 'Hey, Louis, by the way, I've been investigating your best friend behind your back because I don't trust you?' That'll go over well."

Niall sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe not. But keeping him in the dark isn't gonna help either. You know that."

Harry didn't respond, his mind whirring with a mix of anger, guilt, and confusion. He couldn't shake the image of Zayn's face, the memory of that chaotic day flashing in his mind. The gunfire. The blood. The gut-wrenching realization that he had accidentally taken an innocent life because of a split-second mistake.

"Look," Niall said, standing up and gathering the scattered papers, "we've got the answers about Zayn. No ties to Red Lily. No evidence of criminal activity. If this is really just about the past, then maybe it's time to focus on the case at hand."

Harry nodded faintly but didn't move as Niall left the office, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He stared at the message from Zayn on Louis's phone that he'd written down earlier. The words burned in his brain, twisting his doubt into a knot he couldn't untangle.

Finally, he reached for his phone. Missed calls from Louis filled the screen. For a moment, his thumb hovered over Louis's name, but he couldn't bring himself to call back. Instead, he shoved the phone into his pocket, grabbed his coat, and left the station, the weight of unanswered questions pressing heavily on his chest.

**

Louis

Louis paced back and forth in his living room, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. He had called Harry at least a dozen times throughout the day, each attempt going straight to voicemail. The silence on the other end was deafening, fueling his growing worry. At first, he convinced himself that Harry must have been busy, perhaps caught up in work or buried in the endless chaos of their case. But as the hours passed, worry gave way to irritation.

Finally, his phone buzzed, and he all but lunged for it, hoping to see Harry's name. Instead, it was a text from Niall.

"He's with me, don't worry. We've got things to sort out. Better don't come to the office today."

Louis stared at the screen, his jaw tightening. What did Niall mean by 'things to sort out?' And why was he being told to stay away? His fingers hovered over the screen, itching to call Niall and demand answers, but he stopped himself.

The uneasy feeling in his chest deepened, and as he set his phone down on the table, his gaze caught on the message from Zayn.

"Styles doesn't know yet, does he? We need to be careful."

Louis's stomach twisted. He had seen it that morning and thought little of it, Zayn had always been cryptic, and Louis knew his paranoia ran deep after everything he'd been through. But now, with Harry's sudden distance and Niall's vague text, he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

His mind raced. Did Harry see the message? He hadn't been particularly careful with his phone last night, too caught up in the fleeting moments of intimacy they'd shared. If Harry had seen it, would he jump to conclusions? Would he think Louis was hiding something?

The thought sent a pang of guilt through him. Louis was hiding something, many things, in fact.  If Harry knew who Zayn was, it would only complicate things further.

He picked up his phone again, his fingers trembling as he typed out a message to Harry:

"Harry, I don't know what's going on, but I need to talk to you. Please call me."

He stared at the words for a moment before erasing them and trying again.

"I know you're upset. Please let me explain. Just... don't shut me out."

But even that felt wrong. With a frustrated groan, he deleted the message altogether and tossed his phone onto the couch.

Louis dropped his head into his hands, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on him. He couldn't shake the feeling that things were spiraling out of his control. Between the Red Lily case, his father's threats, and now whatever was happening with Harry, Louis felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath his feet.

And he didn't know who would be there to catch him anymore.

**

Louis sat on the couch in Zayn's apartment, nursing the cup of tea his friend had shoved into his hands. He had been tossing and turning all night, waiting for Harry to say something. A text, a missed call, anything to let him know they were still okay. But Harry had been silent, and it was killing him.

Zayn, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, was watching Louis with quiet concern. "You look like shit," He finally said, his voice soft but laced with an edge of bluntness.

Louis huffed a laugh, though it held no humor. "Didn't come here for compliments, mate."

"Didn't think so," Zayn replied, taking a sip from his own mug. "You're here because of him, aren't you?"

Louis nodded, his fingers tightening around the ceramic mug. "I don't know what to do, Zayn. I think... I think Harry knows something. He won't talk to me. Won't even give me a chance to explain." He sighed, leaning back against the couch. "And it's driving me mad because I don't even know what he knows."

Zayn tilted his head, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. "You think he saw the message I sent?"

"Maybe," Louis admitted. "Or maybe it's something else, but we were fine before. I just -" He paused, staring down into his tea. "I don't want to lose him. And I feel like I'm running out of time to fix this."

Zayn leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "You know what's going to happen if he finds out about your father. You knew what you were getting into from the beginning. You think you're scared now? Wait until that bomb drops."

Louis flinched, the words hitting him harder than he expected. "I know," He muttered. "But what am I supposed to do, Zayn? Just keep lying to him? Pretend I don't know that my own father is the one pulling the strings behind all of this? That's not a relationship. That's... manipulation."

Zayn's lips pressed into a thin line. He knew Louis was right, but the situation wasn't simple. Nothing about their lives was simple anymore.

"And you think Harry's going to look at you the same way once he knows?" Zayn asked, his tone sharper now. "You think he's going to forgive you for hiding this from him because you were trying to help - protect even, for wanting to fight your own battle, taking him down - using him in the process? For letting him trust you when you knew it was going to blow up in his face?"

"I don't know!" Louis snapped, the frustration finally bubbling over. "I don't know, Zayn. But I have to try. Because... because he's worth it."

Zayn blinked, his expression softening just slightly. "You love him."

Louis didn't hesitate. "Yeah. I do."

A heavy silence fell between them, the weight of the confession hanging in the air. Zayn sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Look, Lou, I get it. I really do. But you're walking a thin line here. Harry seems the kind of guy who don't takes betrayal lightly. And if he finds out you've been keeping this from him? That you've been working this case while knowing the truth the whole time, basically havin access to the leader? It's going to destroy him."

Louis swallowed hard, his throat tightening. "I know," He whispered. "But I'm already in this too deep. I just... I need to tell him. About everything. I need him to hear it from me."

Zayn looked away, his jaw clenching. "You think he's going to take it better coming from you?"

"I don't know," Louis admitted. "But I can't keep lying to him."

Zayn stayed quiet for a moment, his fingers tapping against the edge of the table. Finally, he muttered, "You've always been too soft for your own good."

Louis gave a half-hearted smile. "Coming from the guy who still can't forgive Harry for something that wasn't even his fault."

Zayn stiffened, his eyes narrowing. "That's different."

"Is it?" Louis challenged gently. "You know it was an accident, Zayn. Harry didn't mean to shoot her. He didn't mean for any of it to happen. But you're still holding onto it like it's some personal vendetta."

Zayn's gaze dropped to the table, his shoulders tense. "You don't get it," He muttered. "You don't know what it's like to lose someone like that. To have everything ripped away from you in the blink of an eye."

"No, I don't, not like that," Louis admitted. "But I do know that holding onto this anger isn't helping you. It's just keeping you stuck."

Zayn looked up then, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. "I met someone," He said abruptly, the confession catching Louis off guard.

"What?" Louis blinked, leaning forward.

"I met someone," Zayn repeated, his voice quieter now. "He's... different. Makes me feel like maybe I don't have to be angry all the time. Like I can move on."

Louis smiled softly, relief washing over him. "That's good, Zayn. You deserve that."

Zayn shrugged, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, well. Doesn't change what happened."

"No," Louis agreed. "But it's a start."

Zayn's smile faded, his gaze turning serious again. "You better be sure about this, Lou. About telling Harry. Because once it's out there, there's no taking it back."

"I know," Louis said, his voice firm. "But I can't keep pretending. I need to do this. For him. For us."

Zayn sighed, leaning back against the table. "You're braver than I am."

Louis shook his head. "No, just more desperate."

They shared a quiet laugh, the tension easing just slightly. But as Louis left Zayn's apartment that night, his heart felt heavier than ever. He knew the road ahead wasn't going to be easy.

But if he wanted a future with Harry, he had to face the truth.

Chapter Text

Louis' heart was hammering with both nerves and determination. This was it. He had made up his mind: he was going to tell Harry everything. He knew he had to start somewhere, and Zayn was probably the easier choice.

Gripping his phone, Louis hit the call button. As it rang, he rehearsed his words in his head. Harry, there's something I need to tell you. About Zayn. About why I didn't tell you sooner. But the second Harry picked up, all the careful planning flew out the window.

"Harry," Louis blurted out before Harry could say anything, his voice trembling slightly, "I need to say something. Please don't hang up, just... just let me explain."

There was a pause on the other end, and then a cautious, "Louis.."

"No, listen," Louis interrupted, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I know you're probably angry - hell, I would be too, but I didn't mean to keep it from you. I didn't know how to tell you. Zayn... Zayn Rogers isn't who you think he is. His name is Zayn Malik. He, he's the Zayn from that case. The one with the hostage situation. You know. You were there. I think you figured out by now."

There was a sharp inhale on the line, but Louis didn't give Harry a chance to speak.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I really am. It wasn't my place to tell you, and I know I should have, but... Zayn is my friend. And he's been through so much. I wanted to protect him. I thought maybe it wouldn't matter anymore, but now I see I was wrong. It does matter. And I -"

"Louis -" Harry tried again, his tone urgent, but Louis kept going, his chest tightening with guilt and fear.

"There's more," Louis confessed, his voice cracking. "There's so much more I need to tell you, Harry. Things you're not going to like. Things you might hate me for. But I can't keep hiding it anymore. I -"

"Louis!" Harry's voice finally broke through, cutting off Louis's rambling. There was a strange edge to it, something that made Louis's stomach drop.

"What?" Louis asked, his heart now racing for an entirely different reason.

"They think they found her."

"Found who?" Louis asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Gemma," Harry said, his voice tight. "They think they found her. I need you to come to the station. Now."

The line went dead before Louis could say another word.

Louis stood frozen, the phone still pressed to his ear, his pulse roaring in his ears. Gemma. Harry's sister. For a moment, everything else, the guilt, the truth he was ready to spill, the little hope that Harry might forgive him, faded into the background.

He grabbed his jacket and keys, his thoughts a chaotic swirl as he headed for the door.

Please let her be alive, he thought desperately, his chest constricting. Please, let her still be alive.

**

The tension in the car was suffocating. Louis sat in the back seat, his hands gripping his thighs tightly as he tried to keep his nerves in check. Harry was in the passenger seat, staring out of the window, his face pale and drawn. He hadn't said a single word to Louis since he arrived at the station. Not a glance, not even an acknowledgment. Niall, sitting in the driver's seat, looked at Louis through the rearview mirror, offering an apologetic smile that did little to ease the heavy weight in the air.

The silence was broken only by the sound of the tires on the road as they approached the site. No one dared to speak.

Louis's gaze was fixed on Harry. He was trembling, his hands twitching slightly on his lap, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. He was a mess, and Louis's heart ached watching him like this. He wanted to reach out, to say something, but he couldn't find the words. He had already failed him too many times.

When they arrived, the scene was chaos. Police cars were scattered around the area, their lights flashing red and blue against the gray morning sky. Officers moved in and out of the old building ahead, their expressions grim and tense. The air was thick with unease.

As soon as the car stopped, Harry shoved the door open and stumbled out. He didn't make it more than a few steps before he doubled over and vomited onto the gravel.

"Harry!" Niall was out of the car in an instant, rushing to his side and placing a steady hand on his back. "It's okay, mate. Breathe. Just breathe."

Louis hesitated for a moment before climbing out as well. He wanted to give Harry space, but when he saw how much he was shaking, he couldn't hold back. Slowly, he approached, standing just behind Niall.

"Harry," He said softly, his voice full of concern.

Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and straightened up, though his knees wobbled slightly. He didn't look at Louis, but when Louis reached out to touch his arm, he didn't pull away.

"You okay to go in there?" Niall asked carefully, his voice low.

Harry nodded, though his face betrayed his fear. "I have to," He said, his voice rough.

Louis stepped closer, his hand still resting lightly on Harry's arm. "We'll go in together," He said quietly. "You're not alone in this."

For a moment, Harry glanced at Louis, his green eyes glassy with unshed tears. He didn't say anything, but he gave a small nod, allowing Louis's presence to steady him.

As they approached the building, the expressions of the officers milling around said it all. Grim faces, quick glances exchanged, it was clear they had already confirmed what everyone feared.

Louis tightened his grip on Harry's arm, and Niall flanked his other side. Harry took a shaky breath, and then they stepped inside.

The room was cold, damp, and eerily silent despite the bustle outside. In the corner, surrounded by paramedics, was the body of a young woman.

Louis felt Harry's body stiffen beside him, and his breath hitched audibly. Niall placed a firm hand on Harry's shoulder, steadying him, but it was Louis who felt Harry lean against him ever so slightly, seeking support.

One of the officers stepped forward. "We've identified her," He said softly, his voice careful, respectful. "It's Gemma Styles."

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Louis felt Harry's knees give out, and he quickly wrapped an arm around him, holding him up as a broken sob escaped his lips.

Louis's heart shattered as he held Harry close, whispering softly, "I'm so sorry, Harry. I'm so, so sorry."

**

Harry

Harry ripped himself free from Louis's hold, staggering backward as if burned. His vision blurred, but not from tears. It was pure, raw anguish that clouded his sight. Louis called out to him, his voice desperate, but Harry didn't look back. He bolted, shoving past officers, his chest heaving as he ran toward the car.

"Harry! Wait -" Louis's voice was swallowed by the noise of the scene behind him.

Harry didn't wait. He slid into the driver's seat, slammed the door shut, and started the engine with shaking hands. Niall and Louis were shouting after him, their voices faint over the blood roaring in his ears. He pressed the gas pedal hard, tires screeching against the pavement as he sped away from the chaos.

In the rearview mirror, he caught a glimpse of Louis running after him, his face a mix of panic and pain. But Harry didn't stop. He couldn't.

The streets blurred past him as his foot pressed harder on the accelerator, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. There was no destination, no plan. Just a need to escape the crushing weight inside him.

Guilt.
Grief.
Pain.
Pain.
Pain.

It swirled together in his mind like a storm, crashing over him in relentless waves. His breathing was ragged, tears streaming down his face as he screamed.

Raw, guttural, a sound that tore from the deepest part of him.

The image of Gemma haunted him, her smile, her laugh, the way she'd always been there for him. And now, she was gone. Gone in the cruelest way possible.

He didn't know how long he drove, but eventually, the city lights faded, and he found himself on an empty road bordered by dense forest. His chest felt tight, his head pounding, and the sound of his tires against the asphalt was deafening in the silence.

Finally, he couldn't go any further. He slammed on the brakes, the car skidding to a halt near the edge of the woods. His hands trembled as he reached for the bottle tucked under the passenger seat. A whiskey bottle he had stashed for nights when the memories became too much.

But tonight wasn't just a memory. It was a nightmare.

He also grabbed the small orange pill bottle from the glove compartment, his fingers fumbling to twist off the cap. His breath hitched as he stared at the pills inside, the weight of his grief pressing down on him like a physical force.

Without thinking, he shoved the bottle into his pocket, grabbed the whiskey, and stumbled out of the car. The cool night air hit him like a slap, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

Harry trudged into the forest, his steps uneven, the sound of crunching leaves beneath his feet combining with the pounding in his ears. He found a spot beneath a large tree and collapsed against it, his back scraping against the rough bark.

He took a long swig of the whiskey, the burn in his throat a welcome distraction from the pain in his chest. Then another. And another.

He opened the pill bottle with trembling hands, pouring a few into his palm. He stared at them, his mind racing, but there was no clarity. No peace.

"Gemma," He whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry. I should've done more. I should've -" His words dissolved into a sob, and he tilted his head back, letting the whiskey cloud his senses.

He swallowed the pills, chasing them with another gulp of alcohol. The edges of his vision began to blur, darkness creeping in as his body started to surrender.

He didn't care.

There was no life without Gemma.

As the world around him faded, Harry let the blackness take him. For the first time since the nightmare began, he didn't fight it.

Chapter Text

Louis

Louis stood frozen on the spot, staring at the empty street where Harry's car had disappeared. His breath came fast, chest heaving as panic grabbed him. He turned, storming toward the nearest police vehicle, his mind singularly focused on one thing.

Following Harry.

He reached for the driver's door, ready to throw protocol out the window, when a firm hand grabbed his arm. He whipped around, glaring at Niall, who looked equally distraught but much calmer.

"Louis, wait!" Niall barked, his voice firm but not unkind. "We can't just leave, we're needed here. We don't even know where Harry's gone."

"Are you kidding me?" Louis snapped, yanking his arm free. "He's out there, completely unhinged, and God knows what he's planning to do! You expect me to just stand here and wait for a call saying it's too late?" His voice cracked on the last word, frustration and fear bubbling to the surface.

"I get it, Lou, I do," Niall said, his voice softer now. "But we can't just abandon this scene. We still need to wrap this up."

Louis was about to argue when a commotion from inside the house caught both their attention. A uniformed officer rushed toward them, his expression wide-eyed and urgent.

"Detectives!" The officer called out. "You need to come back inside. Now."

Louis and Niall exchanged a quick look before bolting toward the house. Whatever this was, it had to be important, and Louis prayed it wasn't another blow to Harry's fragile world.

When they stepped back inside, the air was heavy with tension, but there was a strange energy rippling through the room. One of the medical examiners stood near the doorway, her face flushed with excitement.

"She has a pulse," She said, the words almost breathless.

Louis blinked, his heart stopping for a moment. "What?"

"Gemma," The examiner clarified, her voice steadier now. "She's alive. Barely, but she's alive. She's in a comatose state, but we're rushing her to the hospital now. There's a chance."

Niall let out a sharp exhale beside him, muttering, "Jesus Christ," As he ran a hand through his hair.

Louis felt his knees weaken, and he grabbed the edge of the nearest table for support. For a moment, everything around him felt distant, muffled, like he was underwater. But then the weight of her survival hit him like a freight train, and all he could think about was Harry.

Harry, who had just seen his worst nightmare become reality - or so he thought. Harry, who had been slipping further and further into darkness every day. Harry, who was driving God knows where with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"He needs to know," Louis whispered, urgency lacing his tone. "Harry needs to know before... before he does something he can't take back."

Niall nodded grimly, already pulling out his phone. "I'm on it. We'll find him."

The next few hours were a blur of frantic phone calls and fruitless searches. They checked Harry's apartment, his parents' house, and even the bar where a distraught Liam promised to keep his eyes and ears open. But there was no sign of him.

Louis was unraveling by the minute, pacing back and forth outside Niall's car as they followed every possible lead. He tried calling Harry countless times, leaving voicemail after voicemail, each one more desperate than the last.

"Come on, Haz," Louis muttered under his breath, gripping his phone so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Pick up, dammit."

Finally, when it felt like hope was slipping through their fingers, Niall's phone pinged with a notification. He pulled it out, frowning at the screen before his eyes widened in recognition.

"Got it," he said, holding up the phone for Louis to see. "His phone just connected. We've got coordinates."

Louis didn't wait for an explanation. "Let's go," He said, already climbing into the passenger seat.

The car sped down the darkened streets, Niall's hands tight on the wheel as he navigated toward the GPS location. Louis stared out the window, his mind racing with every worst-case scenario imaginable.

"Please," He whispered to himself, his hands clasped together as if in prayer. "Please don't let us be too late."

**

The moment Louis saw Harry's abandoned car at the edge of the forest, a jolt of terror shot through his entire body. He didn't wait for Niall to stop the car, he threw the door open and bolted toward it, ignoring Niall's frantic shouts behind him.

The car was empty, but the driver's door was slightly ajar, and there were faint footprints leading into the forest. Louis didn't think. He just ran, following the trail like his life depended on it. His breaths were shallow and fast, the trees closing in around him as the coordinates on Niall's phone got closer and closer.

"Harry!" Louis shouted into the silence of the woods, his voice breaking. "Harry, answer me!"

No response. Only the rustle of leaves and the sound of his own pounding footsteps.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, Louis saw it. A lifeless silhouette slumped against the base of a tree. His heart stopped.

"Harry!" He screamed, sprinting the last few steps and dropping to his knees beside him.

Harry was pale, his head tilted to one side, his lips tinged blue. Empty pill bottle and a half-empty bottle of liquor lay discarded beside him. His chest barely rose and fell, and when Louis pressed his fingers to Harry's neck, the faintest pulse was beneath his touch.

"Fuck, no, no, no," Louis choked, shaking Harry's shoulders as tears streamed down his face. "Don't you dare do this to me. Don't you dare."

Niall caught up moments later, his face going white as he took in the scene. He didn't waste a second, pulling out his phone to call for an ambulance while Louis cradled Harry's head in his lap.

"We can't wait," Louis snapped, his voice raw with panic. "He won't make it if we wait. We need to go. Now."

Niall hesitated for only a moment before nodding. Together, they carried Harry back to the car, Louis refusing to let go even as they struggled to fit him into the back seat.

Louis took the driver's seat, his hands trembling as he slammed the car into gear. Niall sat in the back with Harry, trying to keep him stable as they sped toward the nearest hospital.

But halfway there, Niall's panicked voice cut through the tense silence.

"Louis, stop the car! I think he's stopped breathing!"

Louis slammed the brakes, the tires screeching as the car came to an abrupt halt. He jumped out, running to the back where Niall was already pulling Harry out onto the side of the road.

"Come on, Harry, stay with us," Niall muttered, his hands fumbling as they prepared to perform CPR.

Louis's world tilted as he watched Niall start compressions, counting under his breath as he tried to bring Harry back. The seconds dragged on like hours, each one more unbearable than the last.

And then, in the distance, the sound of sirens.

The ambulance arrived just in time, the medics rushing out and taking over as Louis stood frozen, his heart shattering as they loaded Harry onto a stretcher. They worked on him the entire time, one medic performing chest compressions as another inserted a breathing tube.

Louis tried to follow, but a firm hand stopped him.

"Sir, you need to stay back," One of the medics said, her tone urgent but kind.

"I can't -" Louis's voice cracked as he tried to push past her. "Please, I need to -"

"Louis," Niall said softly, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. His own face was pale, his eyes rimmed red, but he held it together for both of them. "They've got him. Let them do their job."

Louis crumpled against Niall as the ambulance sped away, the red lights flashing through the tears in his eyes. His chest ached, his entire body trembling as every worst-case scenario flashed through his mind.

"Take me to the hospital," He begged, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Niall."

Niall nodded, his own hands shaking as he helped Louis back into the car. He pulled out his phone, dialing Liam and Zayn as he drove.

"We're on our way to the hospital," Niall said, his voice tight with emotion. "It's bad. Just - just meet us there."

Louis barely heard him. His mind was with Harry, replaying every moment they'd spent together, every smile, every laugh, every kiss. It was all too much, they had so little time it wasn't fair. They only just begun.

"Please, Haz," Louis whispered to himself, tears streaming down his face as they neared the hospital. "Please don't leave me. Not like this."

**

Niall

The waiting room was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of whatever machines and the occasional shuffle of people walking outside the glass doors. Niall sat hunched in the far corner, his head buried in his hands as he fought to steady his breathing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this helpless.

The room had been cleared for Harry's family, Anne and Des however, were with Gemma in the intensive care unit. Leaving the rest of them, Niall, Louis, Zayn, and Liam, alone with nothing but the suffocating weight of their own thoughts.

It broke them all seeing Anne so desperate for her babies and trying to comprehend what had happened to them.

Niall looked up briefly, his tear-streaked face catching sight of Louis sitting stiffly beside Zayn. Zayn was speaking softly to him, his voice low and steady, but Louis barely seemed to register it.

His hands were clenched into fists, trembling in his lap, and his eyes were fixed on the ground, glassy and unfocused.

Next to Zayn, Liam sat quiet, Zayn's hand resting firmly on Liam's shoulder, his thumb occasionally grazing his neck. It was a gesture of comfort, or maybe solidarity, but Niall didn't have the mental energy to question it right now.

He felt so alone.

His best friend, his brother, was somewhere beyond those doors, fighting for his life. The thought was unbearable, sending a fresh wave of tears spilling down Niall's cheeks. He tried to swallow the sobs threatening their way out of his throat, but it was no use. His shoulders shook as he leaned forward, gripping his hair in frustration.

He can't die. He just can't.

Niall couldn't stop replaying everything in his mind, their years of friendship, the countless laughs and arguments, the way Harry could bring sun even to the darkest days. How had it come to this? How had they ended up here, in this cold, sterile room, waiting for news that might shatter everything?

Every time a doctor or nurse appeared on the other side of the glass doors, Niall's heart jumped into his throat. He'd sit up straighter, his breath hitching in anticipation, only for them to walk past without a second glance.

He couldn't take much more of this. The not knowing. The waiting. The fear.

Zayn's voice broke through the haze of Niall's thoughts as he murmured something to Louis. Whatever he said, it seemed to break through Louis's daze for a moment.

Louis looked shattered. His usual sharp, confident demeanor was gone. His eyes darted toward the doors, and for a split second, Niall thought he might bolt.

But he didn't. He stayed frozen in place, his breathing shallow, his hands still trembling.

Niall wiped at his face with the sleeve of his jacket, sniffling quietly. He wanted to say something, to offer some kind of reassurance to Louis, to Liam, to himself, but the words wouldn't come.

Instead, he bowed his head, clasping his hands together tightly as if in prayer. He wasn't particularly religious, but right now, he'd take anything.

Please, let him be okay. Let Harry come back to us.

The sound of footsteps outside the doors made Niall's head snap up again, his heart pounding as he watched a doctor approach. She hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, her expression unreadable.

"Are you here for Harry Styles' family?" She asked, her tone professional but gentle.

Niall shot to his feet, his pulse roaring in his ears.

"Yes," He croaked, his voice hoarse.

Louis was already standing, his eyes wide and frantic as he moved closer to the doctor. Zayn and Liam followed suit, their movements tense and guarded.

"How is he?" Niall asked, his voice trembling.

The doctor hesitated for a moment, and in that second, Niall thought he might pass out from the weight of the silence.

Finally, she spoke.

"He's stable for now."

The words hit Niall like a tidal wave, relief crashing over him so hard he had to grab the back of a chair to steady himself.

"But," The doctor continued, her tone serious, "it's still critical. He overdosed due mixed intoxication.We had to get him back a few times and only managed to get a steady circulation after we fully pumped his stomach and gave him naloxone. He's still unconscious, and we won't know the extent of the damage until he wakes up."

Niall's knees buckled, and he sank back into his chair, burying his face in his hands as he sobbed. He wasn't sure if they were tears of relief or fear, probably both, but at least Harry was alive.

Louis, on the other hand, looked like he was about to collapse. His lips moved soundlessly, his eyes glassy as he struggled to process the doctor's words.

Zayn placed a steadying hand on Louis's arm, murmuring something Niall couldn't hear. Liam stepped forward to thank the doctor, his voice calm and steady despite the tension in his shoulders.

As the doctor left, Niall looked up at Louis, who was staring blankly at the doors.

"Louis," Niall said softly, his voice shaky but firm. "He's alive. That's what matters right now."

Louis nodded mechanically, but his eyes remained distant, his mind clearly elsewhere.

Niall could only hope that when Harry woke up, they'd all have a chance to set things right.

Chapter Text

Louis

The waiting room was quieter now, the hours dragging on like days. Louis sat beside Niall, his leg bouncing with nervous energy as his thoughts raced in a hundred different directions. He glanced at the clock on the wall, wishing time would move faster, wishing Harry would wake up.

When the doors opened and Anne and Desmond walked in, Louis immediately stood up, his heart aching at the sight of Harry's parents. Anne's eyes were red and swollen, her expression a mix of exhaustion and determination. Desmond looked pale, visibly shaken, but there was something else too. Something Louis couldn't ignore. Guilt.

Anne went straight to Louis and Niall, wrapping them both in a tight embrace. Louis stiffened at first, surprised by the gesture, but then he melted into it, clinging to her like a lifeline. She didn't say much, just murmured a quiet, "Thank you for being here," Before pulling back and wiping at her eyes.

"I'm sorry," She added, looking between them. "I know you both must be so scared."

"We are," Niall said honestly, his voice thick with emotion. "But he's alive. That's what matters."

Anne nodded, her lips pressing into a trembling smile. "He's a fighter. He'll pull through."

Desmond lingered a few steps behind, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His gaze flicked to Louis briefly, but he looked away just as quickly, focusing on the floor. Louis clenched his jaw, his feelings toward Desmond still blank. The man was an egoistic homophobe who had cheated on his wife with a woman who'd been most likely forced into prostitution, unwittingly becoming entangled in the horrors of the Red Lily. Louis couldn't summon an ounce of sympathy for him, even now.

But this wasn't the time or place for those thoughts. All that mattered was Harry.

Anne's voice broke through Louis' spiraling thoughts. "Gemma's still in a coma," She said, her voice soft but steady. "But the doctors are optimistic. They said it's a good prognosis. We just have to wait."

Louis nodded, his throat tightening. He didn't know what to say, so he just reached out and squeezed her hand.

Anne offered him a small, grateful smile before continuing. "I saw Harry," She said, her voice trembling slightly. "He's... he looks so pale, but he's breathing on his own now. That's a good sign."

Louis felt a lump rise in his throat, and he swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep his emotions in check.

"You two can see him," Anne added, looking at Louis and Niall. "I told the nurses you're like family."

The words hit Louis like a punch to the chest. He glanced at Niall, who gave him a small, reassuring nod.

"Thank you," Louis managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

Anne reached out and touched his arm, her gaze soft but knowing. Louis had the distinct feeling she knew.. about him and Harry. Maybe she didn't know all the details, but there was something in her eyes, a quiet understanding that made Louis feel both seen and exposed.

"Go," She said gently. "He needs you."

Louis hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding. Then he nodded, turning toward the doors with Niall by his side.

As they walked down the hallway, Louis couldn't shake the image of Desmond standing there, looking guilty and broken. It only reinforced everything Louis already knew about the man, about his role, however indirect, in the horrors they were trying to unravel.

But that could wait. Right now, all that mattered was Harry.

When they reached the room, Louis hesitated, his hand hovering over the door handle. Niall gave him a reassuring pat on the back.

"You ready?" Niall asked softly.

Louis nodded, though he didn't feel ready at all.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open.

**

Louis felt his stomach twist painfully as he stepped into Harry's hospital room. The sight before him hit him like a freight train.

Harry lay pale and unmoving on the hospital bed, a stark contrast to his usual vibrant presence. His body seemed small and fragile in the loose hospital gown and his curls were damp with sweat, clinging to his forehead. The steady beeping of the monitor was the only sign that he was still alive, a cruel reminder of how close they had come to losing him.

Louis swayed slightly. Beside him, Niall had gone pale, his face lined with grief as he clutched at Louis's arm for balance. The two men stood there in silence for a moment, grounding themselves in each other's presence before stepping closer to Harry's bedside.

Louis's eyes traced over Harry's face, memorizing every detail. The freckles dusting his nose, the dark lashes resting against his cheeks. He looked peaceful, almost as if he were sleeping, but the dark circles around his eyes and the IV hooked to his hand told a different story.

"I can't believe this," Niall murmured, his voice hoarse as he wiped at his eyes. "I thought - I thought we lost him, Louis. I don't think I could survive that."

Louis tightened his grip on Niall's shoulder. "He's alive," He said, more to himself than for Niall. "We still have him. That's what matters."

They stood there for what felt like an eternity, the quiet hum of the machines filling the room. Eventually, Louis turned to Niall, his voice soft but insistent.

"Go get some tea or something," Louis said. "I'll stay with him."

Niall hesitated, his gaze lingering on Harry. "You sure?"

Louis nodded, his throat too tight to speak. Niall squeezed his shoulder before stepping out, leaving Louis alone with Harry.

For a moment, Louis just stood there, staring down at the man he loved. His chest ached with the weight of everything he hadn't said, everything he had kept buried. Slowly, he sank into the chair beside the bed, reaching out to take Harry's hand in his own. It was warm, a small comfort in the cold Louis found himself in.

"I'm sorry," Louis whispered, his voice cracking as tears welled in his eyes again. "God, Harry, I'm so sorry."

He took a shaky breath, his thumb brushing over the back of Harry's hand. "I've been such a coward. I should've told you everything from the start, but I was scared. Scared of losing you. And now look where we are."

Louis leaned forward, resting his forehead against their joined hands. "It's my fault you're lying here. I know that. If I hadn't kept things from you, maybe you wouldn't have felt like you were on your own."

Tears slipped down his cheeks, and he let them fall, uncaring. "I love you, Harry," He confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've loved you for some time now, and I should've told you. I should've been honest about Zayn, about everything. You deserve the truth, and I promise, when you wake up, I'll tell you everything. No more lies. No more secrets."

He pulled back slightly, his free hand brushing a stray curl from Harry's forehead. "But you have to wake up, yeah? You have to give me that chance. Because I don't know how to do this without you."

The room was quiet except for the steady beeping of the monitor. Louis sat there, holding Harry's hand as he poured his heart out, hoping that Harry could hear him, that his words could somehow reach through the darkness and bring Harry back to him.

When the door opened, and Niall stepped back in, Louis reluctantly released Harry's hand. He stood up, brushing at his damp cheeks as he nodded to Niall.

"Your turn," Louis said quietly.

Niall gave him a small, understanding smile before moving to sit beside Harry. As Louis left the room, he glanced back one last time, silently willing Harry to wake up.

"I love you," He whispered again, the words hanging in the air as he stepped into the hallway.

**

Louis hadn't moved from the hospital since they'd brought Harry in. Anne had tried to convince him to leave, to get some rest, but he refused. She promised she'd keep him updated, but the thought of being anywhere else, of not being there the moment Harry opened his eyes, was unbearable.

Anne had left a while ago to be with Gemma, her face etched with exhaustion and sorrow. Desmond, on the other hand, had disappeared hours before, slinking off without so much as a word. Louis had watched him leave, fists clenched so tightly his nails bit into his palms.

Desmond's absence only solidified everything Louis despised about him. He'd betrayed Anne, betrayed Harry, and now, in the midst of their family's darkest hour, he had the audacity to walk away, leaving the weight of it all on Anne's shoulders. The sight of her broken expression, the way her hand trembled when she touched Harry's hair earlier, gutted Louis.

He hated Desmond. Not just for his actions, but for what he represented. The lies, the selfishness, the pain he'd caused to those around him. Louis had never been one to cling to hatred, but in that moment, it burned hot and relentless in his chest.

And maybe that's what brought his father to the forefront of his mind.

Louis leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic chair, staring blankly at the scuffed tile floor. He thought of his own father. Richard Tomlinson. The man who had cast a shadow over every corner of his life. The man behind the Red Lily.

He'd spent years trying to outrun his father's influence, trying to build a life separate from the empire of corruption and destruction Richard had cultivated. But now, sitting in that hospital waiting room, watching the fallout of another man's betrayal, Louis realized he couldn't keep running.

It wasn't just about Harry anymore. Or Anne. Or Gemma. It was about every single person who had suffered because of his father. Every life that had been destroyed. Every family torn apart.

Louis took a shaky breath, his mind hardening with every passing second. He couldn't sit idly by anymore, couldn't keep pretending that ignorance was the same as innocence. If he wanted to make things right, not just with Harry, but with himself, he had to face his father.

He pulled out his phone, staring at the screen for a long moment. His fingers hovered over the keypad before he started typing. It was a simple message, but it carried the weight of everything he was about to do.

" We need to meet. You won. Let's talk. "

Louis stared at the message, his heart pounding. He knew what this would mean. If his father suspected even for a second that he was planning to bring him down instead of working for him inside the police, there would be no turning back. It was a dangerous game, but it was one Louis was finally ready to play.

He hit send.

The weight in his chest didn't lift, but for the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe again. Whatever it took, he would end this. He would destroy the Red Lily, even if it meant sacrificing himself in the process.

And when Harry woke up, because he had to wake up, Louis swore he would tell him everything.

And he could only pray to whoever was out there that Harry somehow would have it in his heart to forgive him.

He would spent the rest of his life on his knees in front of Harry and begging for forgiveness.

Oh how he would beg for it.

Chapter Text

Harry

The world around Harry was fractured, a haze of sound and fleeting images. He felt like he was floating, disconnected from himself, tethered to reality only by faint, muffled voices that filtered through the dense fog of his unconscious mind.

"Harry..." That voice, it was Louis. Warm, breaking, laced with desperation. "Please wake up. Please. I'm so sorry..."

Harry wanted to answer, to tell Louis he was there, that he could hear him. But his lips wouldn't move, his body wouldn't respond. It was as if he were trapped beneath layers of thick glass, screaming silently while the world continued on without him.

Images flashed before him, sharp and vivid. Gemma. Her lifeless body sprawled on the ground, her pale skin illuminated by the harsh glare of police car lights.

"No!" Harry tried to shout, but the word died in his throat.

The scene shifted, disjointed, like a bad film. He was back in the forest, the bark of the tree rough against his back as he slumped there, pills in one hand, a bottle in the other. He could feel the weight of his own despair pressing down on him, suffocating and inescapable.

"Harry, it's me," His mother's voice broke through, soft and soothing. "I'm here, sweetheart. Gemma is going to be okay. You're going to be okay..."

Her words felt like a lie. His mind twisted them into something cruel, showing him images of Gemma again, her lifeless form replaced with Anne's tear-streaked face. He wanted to scream at the visions to stop, to leave him alone, but they came faster now, unrelenting.

Louis's voice pierced through again, louder this time, closer. "I love you, Harry. God, I love you so much. I'll make this right, I promise. Just come back to me."

The words should have brought comfort, but instead they were tangled with flashes of something else.

Louis's face, shadowed and unreadable, and then the message from Zayn. Zayn. Why was his mind showing him Zayn? Pieces of memory resurfaced, disconnected and nonsensical. Zayn's voice blaming him, accusing him, and the weight of his own guilt pressing down.

The dream twisted again, spiraling out of control. The forest returned, only this time it was Louis standing over him, his face stricken with anguish, shouting his name. Harry tried to reach for him, but his body wouldn't respond. Louis faded into the background, and the forest dissolved into darkness.

"Harry..." It was Niall now, his voice thick with emotion. "You're my best friend. You've always been there for me. Don't you dare give up on us, okay? Don't you dare."

Harry's chest ached, his heart pounding in time with the faint beeping that seemed to echo in the distance. He wanted to tell Niall he wasn't giving up, but the darkness was so heavy, so endless.

The voices around him grew louder, overlapping and disjointed. Louis' apologies. Anne's reassurances. Niall's pleas. They all swirled together, blending into a cacophony that made his head throb. He could feel the weight of their love, their desperation, but he couldn't reach them. He couldn't wake up.

And then, there was silence.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Harry was alone in the dark. No voices, no images, no pain. Just silence. It was almost peaceful.

But somewhere, faint and distant, the steady beep of the monitor called to him, a quiet reminder that the world outside was still there, waiting for him. That they were still waiting for him.

He wasn't ready to let go.

Not yet.

**

Louis

Louis gripped the steering wheel tighter as Desmond's grand mansion came into view. The weight of exhaustion clung to him after 48 sleepless hours by Harry's side. He couldn't sit idly any longer, not with Harry's life hanging by a thread and Gemma's abduction tied to this web of lies and filth.

He rang the doorbell, and after what felt like an eternity, Desmond opened the door. The older man looked disheveled, his face pale and lined with guilt, or perhaps fear. Louis didn't bother with pleasantries. He pushed his way inside, forcing Desmond to stumble back into his ridiculous posh living room.

"We need to talk. Now," Louis said, his tone sharp, leaving no room for argument.

Desmond looked like he wanted to protest but thought better of it. He gestured reluctantly toward the couch. "Fine. Sit."

"I'm not sitting," Louis snapped. He loomed over Desmond, watching the older man fidget with discomfort. "You're going to tell me everything, Desmond. I know you've been hiding things, about the girls, about Gemma."

Desmond froze, his eyes darting away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Cut the crap!" Louis shouted, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. "You were blackmailed, weren't you? Threatened. I know about the prostitutes, Desmond. I know you've been lying to everyone, including your own family. And now your own kids are lying in a hospital bed because of you. How does it feel, knowing you got your own daughter kidnapped?"

The words hit the right spot. Desmond's face crumbled, his hands trembling as he sank into a nearby chair. For a moment, Louis thought he might actually cry.

"I didn't know," Desmond said, his voice hoarse. "I didn't know they were being trafficked. None of us did - at least not at first. We thought... we thought it was consensual and professional, that they were there willingly being paid for sex. But then the letters started."

Louis clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "What letters?"

Desmond sighed shakily. "Blackmail letters. Someone had been recording me and some of the others. They said if we didn't pay what we owed, they'd release the footage, that they'll find a way to get their money. I didn't even know who they were at first, just... threats. And then, one day, a letter came with something else. It said, 'We'll take something you value until we get what you owe us.'"

Louis's stomach turned. "And that's when Gemma was taken."

Desmond nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I knew it was connected, but what could I do? If I went to Harry - the police, it would've ruined me - because I am the police. My career, my reputation, everything I built. Imagine a well known police chef being involved in something like that. So I stayed quiet. I thought... I thought maybe they'd let her go, that she was just leverage." He swallowed hard. "But she never came back."

"You stayed quiet?" Louis's voice broke with anger. "You let your own daughter suffer because you were scared of losing your reputation? You're pathetic."

Desmond's head snapped up, his face twisting in indignation. "You don't understand what it's like -"

"Don't you dare," Louis hissed, leaning closer. "You're a selfish, cowardly bastard, and because of you, Harry is barely clinging to life. Gemma was tortured and god knows what else they did to her. All because you cared more about your reputation than your family."

Desmond looked away, shame washing over him, his face turning a weird shade of green-ish.

Louis took a step back, running a hand through his hair as he fought to keep his composure. He couldn't afford to lose control now. "Who sent the letters?"

"I don't know," Desmond admitted weakly. "They never revealed their faces, just shadows behind threats. But... I think they're connected to the Red Lily. I've heard whispers among the others. A network, trafficking girls, blackmailing powerful men."

Louis's heart sank. He knew it already but there was this small piece of hope inside him that still held onto the possibility that this wasn't all connected.

"You're going to tell Anne," Louis said, his voice low and cold. "You're going to tell her everything, about the blackmail, the affairs, your part in all of this. And if you don't, I will."

Desmond's eyes widened in panic. "You can't -"

"I can, and I will," Louis interrupted. "You've done enough damage hiding the truth. It's time to face the consequences. We all have to be responsible for our actions sooner or later."

Without waiting for a response, Louis turned on his heel and stormed out of the mansion. He slammed the door behind him, leaning against it as he exhaled shakily.

The hatred he felt for Desmond was like a burning in his chest. He couldn't believe what piece of scum someone had to be to throw their own family, their own flesh

And for now, he had only two goals: bring the Red Lily down, no matter the cost and get the truth out.

Chapter Text

The drive back to the hospital felt endless, Louis's mind racing in overdrive. His father's message that he received shortly after leaving the Styles mansion, replayed in his head like a broken record: the meeting point, the instructions, the ominous demand for loyalty. Seven days. Seven days to figure out how to take him down without losing everything - or anyone -else in the process.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, biting the inside of his cheek as he brainstormed possible ways to navigate this. If his father wanted proof of loyalty, it meant he'd have to step closer to the enemy's den, closer to the man he despised most. How could he pull this off without compromising his integrity? Without losing Harry? Without putting everyone he cared about in more danger?

His phone buzzed, breaking him out of his thoughts. The name on the screen made his heart leap: Niall. He answered immediately.

"Louis," Niall's voice came through, breathless but full of relief. "He's awake."

Louis's chest tightened. "Harry? He's awake?"

"Yes, mate," Niall confirmed. "Still groggy as hell, but he opened his eyes and asked for water. He's weak, but he's talking. Thought you'd want to know."

Louis didn't even reply. He hung up, slammed his foot on the accelerator, and sped toward the hospital.

By the time Louis arrived, he was practically sprinting through the hospital corridors. Nurses gave him disapproving glances for his pace, but he didn't care. His heart was hammering in his chest, torn between anticipation and dread.

He burst into the room without knocking, his chest heaving as his eyes landed on the figure in the hospital bed. Harry was sitting up, pale but alert, his green eyes flickering toward the door. Anne sat by his side, her hand on his, while Niall hovered near the foot of the bed.

"Harry," Louis breathed, relief washing over him as he stepped closer. But the smile on his face faltered when Harry's expression remained blank.

"Do I... know you?" Harry asked, tilting his head slightly, his brow furrowing in apparent confusion.

Louis froze, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. "W-What?" he stammered, his voice cracking.

Anne turned to Harry, alarmed. "Harry, what are you saying? This is Louis - don't you remember?"

Harry shrugged weakly, glancing between his mother and Louis. "Sorry, I don't think we've met."

Niall looked between them, his mouth slightly open in shock. "Harry... mate, what are you on about?"

Louis felt his legs weaken, his heart sinking into his stomach. This couldn't be happening. Not after everything they'd been through. "Harry," He whispered, stepping closer, his voice trembling. "It's me. Louis."

Harry's expression remained neutral for a moment longer before his lips twitched. And then he laughed. A raspy, tired sound that grew into a full chuckle.

"You should've seen your face," Harry wheezed, leaning back against the pillows, a smirk spreading across his face. "I'm sorry, but you kind of deserved that."

Louis blinked, his mouth opening and closing as the realization hit him. "You're joking?"

Harry nodded, his smile widening. "Yeah, I'm joking. Relax, Lou."

Anne let out an exasperated sigh, smacking Harry lightly on the arm. "Harry Edward Styles, that wasn't funny!" She scolded, though there was relief in her voice.

Niall let out a breath, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ, Harry, you scared the life out of us. Especially Louis!"

Louis stood frozen for a moment longer, his emotions a chaotic mix of relief and irritation. "You're unbelievable," He muttered, running a hand through his hair as he fought the urge to strangle him.

Harry's smirk softened into something more genuine, his eyes locking with Louis's. "I'm sorry," He said softly. "But... I kind of had to, after everything."

"After everything?" Louis asked, his voice quieter now.

Harry nodded, his expression growing more serious. "I remember what you said about Zayn," He admitted. "Niall filled me in on the rest while you were out." He hesitated, his gaze steady. "You should've told me, Lou. But... I get it. And we'll be fine. We'll figure it out."

Louis felt the weight on his chest ease slightly, but guilt still gnawed at him. "Harry, I'm so sorry," He said, his voice breaking. "There's more I need to tell you -"

"Not now," Harry interrupted gently. "Not here. I just woke up, and my brain feels like it's been through a blender. Let's deal with this later, okay? For now, just... sit with me?"

Louis crossed the room in two strides, dropping into the chair by Harry's side and taking his hand gently. "I'm here," He said softly, his voice trembling. "I'm right here, love."

Harry blinked slowly, a weak smile tugging at his lips. "Didn't think I'd see you again."

"Don't say that," Louis said firmly, squeezing Harry's hand. "Don't you dare say that. You scared the life out of me, you know that? Don't ever do that again, Harry. Ever."

Harry's gaze softened, guilt flickering across his face. "Sorry," He murmured. "I... I wasn't thinking straight."

Louis shook his head, his voice breaking. "I don't care about that right now. All that matters is that you're here, alive."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes, spilling down his cheeks. Louis reached up to wipe them away, his own tears falling freely now.

"I love you, Harry. I'm sorry this isn't the most romantic situation but you need to know," Louis whispered, the words pouring out of him like a confession. "I love you so much, and I'm sorry for everything. For not telling you things sooner, for not being honest. I'm going to make it right. I swear to you, I'll make it right."

Harry didn't respond right away, just stared at Louis with a mixture of exhaustion and emotion. Then, with a shaky breath, he whispered, "I love you too."

Louis felt his heart break and heal all at once. He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Harry's forehead.

Harry smiled faintly, leaning back against the pillows. And for the first time in days, Louis felt like they might actually be okay. But the message from his father lingered in the back of his mind, a ticking clock he couldn't ignore. Seven days. Seven days to set things right.

Chapter Text

Louis sat on the edge of his couch, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, while Zayn paced back and forth across the living room. The weight of the situation was suffocating, but Louis had to lay it all out. There was no more time for half-truths and secrets.

"So you're really going to meet him," Zayn said, finally stopping his pacing to face Louis. His arms were crossed tightly, his jaw tense.

Louis nodded, his expression grim. "I don't have a choice, Zayn. This is the only way to end it, to bring him down for good. I have to gain his trust, make him think I'm willing to join him, and then get enough evidence to dismantle the whole thing. I tried everything by joining the police here but to no success."

Zayn frowned, his dark eyes filled with concern. "You know how dangerous this is, right? If he even suspects you're playing him-"

"I know," Louis interrupted, his voice steady but tired. "I know what's at stake. But if I don't do this, more people are going to suffer. And I can't let that happen. Not anymore."

Zayn sighed and sat down across from him. "And Harry? Are you really finally going to tell him everything?"

Louis hesitated, his hands clenching into fists. "I have to. I should've told him ages ago, but I was a coward. Now, with everything that's happened... he deserves the truth, all of it. I just hope he doesn't hate me."

Zayn gave him a pointed look. "He's going to be pissed, Louis. And he'll probably yell at you. But he loves you. I can see that. He'll come around."

Louis exhaled shakily, leaning back against the couch. "God, I hope you're right."

They sat in silence for a moment before Louis glanced at Zayn, noticing the way his friend's expression had softened. There was something different about him tonight, an underlying lightness that hadn't been there before.

"What?" Zayn asked when he caught Louis staring.

"You seem... lighter," Louis said, tilting his head. "Happier, even. What's going on?"

Zayn's cheeks tinted pink, and he looked away, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. "I, uh... I met someone, I told ya." He admitted quietly.

Louis's eyebrows shot up. "Yeah, but I never asked who it was?"

Zayn hesitated for a moment before sighing. "It's Liam."

Louis blinked in surprise, then broke into a small grin. "Liam? As in our Liam? Bartender Liam?"

"Yeah, that Liam," Zayn muttered, his blush deepening. "We've been... seeing each other for a while now. I didn't want to say anything until I was sure, but... he's good for me, Lou. He makes me feel like I can actually breathe again."

Louis's grin softened into something warmer. "That's great, Zayn. Really. You deserve to be happy."

"Thanks," Zayn said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I just... hope this doesn't blow up in my face."

"It won't," Louis said firmly. "Harry thinks highly of him so he has to be a good person."

Zayn chuckled softly, the sound breaking some of the tension in the room. For a moment, it felt like they were just two friends catching up, not two people entangled in a web of danger and secrets.

But reality quickly set back in, and Louis's expression turned serious again. "I'm going to need your help, Zayn. If this goes wrong... I need someone I can trust to have my back."

"You know I've got you," Zayn said without hesitation. "Always."

Louis nodded, feeling a flicker of relief amidst the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He didn't know what the next seven days would bring, but at least he wouldn't face it alone.

**

The air was thick as Louis helped Harry gather his things from the hospital room, their movements quiet. The visit to Gemma earlier had been emotionally draining, but it was also the first sliver of hope Harry had felt in days. Gemma was fighting. She was healing. That gave him something to hold onto. But of course they couldn't forget about the other girls and that the case was still full on going.

The weight of her ordeal still pressed heavily on him, but the absence of one dark possibility, the confirmation from the results that she hadn't been sexually assaulted, brought a wave of relief to all of them.

"She's strong, you know," Harry murmured, his voice rough from disuse. "Always has been. I just... I need her to wake up. I need to tell her I'm sorry for not protecting her, for not finding her sooner."

Louis glanced at him, his chest tightening at the pain in Harry's words. He wanted to tell him that none of this was his fault, but the weight of the secrets he carried made it hard to say anything at all.

"She knows you love her, Harry," Louis said quietly. "She's fighting because of that. For you. For Anne."

By the time they got to the car where Niall was waiting, Harry's silence had grown tense. Louis could feel the questions brewing, and he knew it was only a matter of time before everything unraveled.

Once they were on the road, Niall glanced at Louis through the rearview mirror, his expression grim but resigned. They had agreed to tell Harry everything about Desmond and there was no turning back now.

"Harry," Niall began, his voice steady but cautious. "There's something Louis and I need to talk to you about. It's about your dad."

Harry's head snapped up, his brows knitting together in confusion. "What about him?"

Louis shifted uncomfortably, his hands gripping his knees. "We've been looking into him, Harry. And... there's something you need to know. Something that connects him to the Red Lily and everything that's happened."

Harry's eyes darkened, his jaw clenching. "Go on," he said tightly.

Louis took a deep breath, forcing himself to meet Harry's gaze. "Your father has been involved with prostitutes for years. And the women he was with... they weren't there by choice. They were victims of trafficking, tied to the Red Lily as it seemed."

Harry blinked, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. "What are you saying? That my dad was part of this?"

"He didn't know about the trafficking at first," Niall interjected, his tone measured. "But when he found out, he tried to cover it up. He got blackmailed, there are recordings of him in bed with different girls. And when he ignored the threats, they went after Gemma to punish him."

The car fell into a heavy silence, the words hanging in the air like a storm cloud. Harry stared straight ahead, his breathing shallow.

"So you're telling me," Harry said slowly, his voice dangerously calm, "that my sister was taken and tortured because of him?"

Louis nodded, his heart sinking. "Yes. That's what we've pieced together."

Harry let out a bitter laugh, his hands curling into fists. "And you're just telling me this now? How long have you known?"

"Harry, I only confirmed it last night," Louis said quickly. "I wanted to be sure before I said anything. I didn't want to blindside you."

"You didn't want to blindside me?" Harry's voice rose, his anger spilling over. "You should've told me the second you had a shred of evidence! This is my family, Louis. My sister!"

"Harry, I'm sorry," Louis said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" Harry shook his head, his laugh cold. "You don't get to decide what I need protecting from, Louis. I need to be part of this. I need to bring them down, for Gemma."

Louis exchanged a worried look with Niall, his chest tightening. "Harry, you've just been through hell. You need to rest. Let us handle this for now."

"No," Harry said firmly, his green eyes blazing with determination. "I'm not sitting on the sidelines while my sister's life is in pieces. I'm going back into the case, whether you like it or not."

"Harry-" Louis began, but Harry cut him off with a glare.

"You don't get to decide this for me, Louis. Not after keeping this from me."

Louis fell silent, his throat tight. He knew Harry was right, but the thought of him being in danger made his stomach churn. Especially when Louis knew his own plans could blow everything apart.

For now, he had to focus on the mission ahead and hope that when the time came, Harry would forgive him for the truth he still hadn't told.

But... he couldn't stop the fear creeping in - if Harry reacted so badly to him keeping Desmond's involvement quiet for just a few hours, how much worse would it be when the whole truth came out? Louis could already feel his chances slipping away, forcing him to brace for the worst: Harry hating him and walking away for good.

Chapter Text

When Niall pulled up outside Harry's house, he gave them both a small, encouraging nod before driving off.

Inside the silence lingered, heavy and almost suffocating. Louis fidgeted in the kitchen, boiling water for tea as Harry lingered near the couch, staring out the window. His movements were slow, and his expression was distant, as though he was somewhere far away. Louis didn't push, he knew Harry needed space to process everything, but his own thoughts were racing.

By the time Louis brought the steaming mugs into the living room, Harry had sunk into the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Louis hesitated before sitting down beside him, placing the tea on the table in front of them.

"I know we've talked about it already," Louis began carefully, breaking the silence, "but I just... I need to say it again. About Desmond. About everything. I should've told you sooner, and I'm sorry I didn't."

Harry turned to him, his green eyes tired but steady. "I get why you didn't," He said, his voice soft but firm. "You didn't want to make things worse for me. I know you were trying to protect me, Louis. And as angry as I was, I don't want us to keep fighting about it."

Louis released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, relief flooding him. "I hate fighting with you," He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I do too," Harry said, leaning back against the couch. "We're supposed to be a team, yeah? I know I didn't exactly make that easy with the way I reacted."

"It's not just about Desmond, though," Louis said hesitantly, gripping the edge of his mug. "I've been holding onto things - things I should've told you a long time ago. I've made mistakes, Harry, and I know it."

Harry glanced at him, his expression softening. "We both have. But I want us to figure it out together. I meant what I said before, Lou. I love you, even if we've had to say it in the middle of all this... madness."

Louis's lips curved into a small smile, and he nodded. "That wasn't exactly how I pictured saying it for the first time."

Harry let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Same. But it doesn't make it any less true, does it?"

"No," Louis agreed, his voice firm. "I meant it then, and I mean it now. And I'll keep meaning it. I want us to keep moving forward, Haz. I want us to grow together."

Harry smiled faintly, but his exhaustion was evident. He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning his head back against the couch. Louis's stomach twisted as he realized he had an opening to tell Harry everything. The truth about the Red Lily, about his father, about what was coming. His hands trembled slightly as he set the tea down on the table, turning to face Harry fully.

"Harry, there's more," Louis started, his heart pounding in his chest. "I need to tell you something important, something I should've told you ages ago -"

But Harry opened his eyes slowly and held up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. "Lou," He said softly, "can it wait? Please? I'm so tired right now. I just... I need to rest."

Louis stared at him, his chest tightening, but he forced himself to nod. "Yeah," He said quietly. "It can wait."

He watched as Harry stood, mumbling something about heading to bed. Louis stayed on the couch, his thoughts spiraling as the weight of his unspoken truths pressed down on him. He'd promised himself he'd tell Harry everything, but once again, the moment had slipped through his fingers. For now, all he could do was hope he'd find the right moment before it was too late.

**

Louis still sat on the couch, staring at the faint reflection of himself in the dark TV screen, his thoughts a tangled mess of guilt, fear, and love. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, but his phone buzzed on the cushion next to him, pulling him from his spiral.

He picked it up, and his heart softened when he saw Harry's name light up the screen. The message was simple: "You joining me or what?"

A smile tugged at Louis's lips, the first real one in what felt like hours. Relief washed over him, easing some of the tension in his chest. He practically lept off the couch, making his way upstairs with hurried, quiet steps as if afraid Harry might change his mind.

In the bedroom, the sight of Harry already nestled under the blankets, his curls a messy halo on the pillow, filled Louis with warmth. Harry's half-lidded eyes followed him as he quickly changed into one of Harry's oversized shirts and slid into bed beside him.

Harry immediately shifted closer, his head resting on Louis's chest, and Louis wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight. The weight of everything, the Red Lily, Desmond, Louis's father, still lingered in the back of his mind, but for now, it didn't matter. For the first time in days, they were safe, together, and Louis wasn't about to take that for granted.

"Thanks for staying," Harry mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

"Always," Louis whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Harry's curls.

As they lay there in the quiet darkness, Louis held onto Harry like his life depended on it, silently vowing to do whatever it took to protect him from the storm that was still looming on the horizon.

For now, though, they had this moment. And that was enough.

**

Harry woke up slowly, the weight of the past few weeks pressing faintly against his chest. For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight wasn't unbearable. He was home, in his own bed, and Louis was there. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains. Harry turned his head to see Louis beside him, curled on his side, his face peaceful in sleep. His chest rose and fell steadily, and for a moment, Harry allowed himself to simply watch.

Relief settled in his bones as he took in the sight of Louis, safe and here with him. He felt the warmth of Louis's hand loosely resting on the blanket between them, fingers brushing Harry's wrist. It was small, but it grounded him in a way he didn't expect. This was real.

Harry shifted slightly, careful not to wake him too abruptly. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Louis's forehead. Louis stirred at the touch, a soft murmur escaping his lips. His lashes fluttered, and after a few seconds, his blue eyes met Harry's.

"Morning," Harry said, his voice soft and raw, still rough from sleep.

Louis blinked a few times, his gaze settling on Harry. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he stretched a little under the blankets. "Morning," He replied, his voice equally groggy. "What time is it?"

Harry shrugged, his lips quirking. "No idea. Doesn't matter."

Louis hummed in agreement, closing his eyes again briefly before turning on his back and looking up at the ceiling. "It feels good to wake up like this," He admitted quietly. "Feels like...a second chance."

Harry nodded, his throat tightening. "Yeah. It does." He hesitated before reaching out again, this time intertwining their fingers. "I don't want to mess this up, Lou."

Louis turned his head to look at him, their hands now joined. His eyes softened. "You're not going to. We're not going to. I meant what I said yesterday. I love you, Harry. No matter how hard this gets."

The words washed over Harry like a balm, soothing the cracks in his chest. He squeezed Louis's hand. "I love you, too. I really do. And I want this - us - to work. No matter what. I'll never leave you, Lou. I promise"

They lay there for a moment, hands clasped, the quiet between them filled with unspoken promises and a shared determination to move forward together.

Louis finally broke the silence, a playful grin spreading across his face. "So...are you going to make me tea this time, or is it my turn again?"

Harry let out a laugh, shaking his head. "I'm not moving. You've got better tea skills anyway."

Louis rolled his eyes but didn't let go of Harry's hand. "Fine. But only because I'm feeling generous."

Harry smiled as he watched Louis sit up, the sunlight catching in his hair.

"Louis wait." He gently grabbed Louis' hand and the latter turning back to Harry with a knowing look. "You're not making it easy to leave this bed, you know."

Harry smirked, propping himself up on one elbow. "Maybe that's the point."

Louis chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to Harry's forehead. "You're impossible." But just as he was about to pull away, Harry's hand slipped around his waist, tugging him back down. Their laughter faded, replaced by a softer, more intimate atmosphere as their eyes locked.

Neither of them spoke, but they didn't need to. The quiet between them was filled with the weight of unspoken emotions. The fear, the love, the hope for better days ahead.

Harry's fingers brushed along Louis's arm, pulling him closer until their foreheads rested together. Louis's breath hitched, his hand settling against Harry's chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath his palm.

It was slow, tender, and deliberate. The way they moved together, rediscovering a sense of closeness they both so desperately needed. There was no rush, no urgency, just a shared understanding of how much they meant to each other.

They slowly undressed, gentle touches on burning skin.

It was pure bliss as Louis slowly pushed into Harry, gently and without rush until they both reached their highs together.

Louis rested his head on Harry's chest after they cleaned themselves up, their legs tangled under the covers. Harry's fingers absentmindedly ran through Louis's hair, and Louis traced invisible patterns on Harry's skin.

"I'm glad I stayed," Louis murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Harry kissed the top of his head, holding him a little tighter. "Me too."

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten for a little while longer.

Chapter Text

Louis had barely slept in days, but the sight of Harry safe and relaxed gave him some semblance of peace. They napped together after their intimacy until noon. Louis stirred first, slipping out of bed carefully so as not to wake Harry.

In the kitchen, he brewed two mugs of tea, letting the familiar routine ground him. When he returned, Harry was just waking up, his hair a mess against the pillow.

"Morning. Again." Harry mumbled, sitting up slowly and taking the mug Louis handed him.

Louis sat on the edge of the bed, watching him intently. "I need you to promise me something, Harry. You need to stay in bed for at least one more day, okay? Rest."

Harry frowned. "Louis, I'm fine -"

"You're not," Louis interrupted, his voice firm but trembling slightly. "You... you were dead, Harry. For an amount of time, your heart stopped. Do you even realize how close we came to losing you? I can't - I can't go through that again."

Harry's face softened as he reached for Louis's hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

Louis swallowed hard, gripping his hand tightly. "We need to talk about it. About the drinking and the pills. About how you deal with things. I can't... I can't just stand by and watch you destroy yourself when things get hard."

Harry nodded slowly, his green eyes filled with guilt. "I know. You're right. I'll do it. I'll see a therapist."

Louis exhaled shakily, a small weight lifted off his chest. "Thank you."

After making sure Harry was settled with everything he needed, Louis reluctantly left the house and headed to the office. The thought of leaving Harry alone gnawed at him, but there were things he needed to do.

When he arrived at his desk, he found a plain envelope waiting for him. His heart sank as he recognized the handwriting on the outside.

His father's.

With shaking hands, he opened the letter. Inside were instructions, written with clinical precision. A location: a storage unit on the outskirts of town. A date and time for a meeting. And a chilling reminder of what was at stake if Louis didn't comply.

Louis clenched the letter tightly, his jaw locking. His father was pulling him deeper into the Red Lily's web, and this time, there was no turning back.

Louis sat at his desk, reading the letter, staring at the ominous instructions scrawled in his father's familiar handwriting. His heart was pounding, his palms sweaty. He clenched the paper tightly, then grabbed his phone and texted Niall:

"Got something to investigate. I'll check in later."

Niall responded quickly, curious but not pushing:
"You sure you don't want backup?"

Louis hesitated, then typed back:
"No. Just a lead I need to follow. I'll let you know if it's something worth pursuing."

He hoped that would satisfy Niall for now. Niall had enough on his plate, and Louis couldn't risk anyone else being pulled into his father's dark web.

The drive to the storage facility felt like it took hours instead of twenty minutes. The coordinates led him to a secluded, run-down storage lot on the outskirts of town. The kind of place people used to hide things they didn't want found.

Louis parked his car and stepped out into the biting wind. The lot was eerily quiet, the only sounds the distant hum of traffic and the crunch of gravel under his boots. He looked around cautiously, scanning for any signs of life. Nothing.

The number in the letter matched a unit near the back of the lot. The door was slightly rusted, its paint peeling. Louis glanced around once more before pulling out the key that had been taped inside the envelope. He slid it into the lock, his heart pounding harder with each turn.

The lock clicked open.

Louis hesitated, taking a steadying breath before sliding the heavy door up. The room inside was small and dimly lit, with a single flickering lightbulb overhead. His eyes immediately fell on a single cardboard box sitting in the middle of the room.

He swallowed hard, his instincts screaming at him to leave. But he couldn't. Slowly, he stepped inside, his footsteps echoing on the cold concrete floor. The air felt heavy, thick with dread.

He crouched down in front of the box, his hands trembling as he reached for the lid. When he opened it, the smell of stale paper and ink hit him first. But as he peered inside, his stomach turned violently.

There were photographs. Dozens of them, scattered in disarray. He pulled one out, his breath hitching as he took in the image. A woman, tied up and gagged, her face bruised and swollen.

His fingers shook as he grabbed another photo. This one was worse - a different woman, clearly terrified, being forced to have sex with a man whose face was obscured.

Louis's vision blurred, nausea clawing at his throat. He dropped the photo and grabbed another. The same horrifying scene, but with yet another woman.

There were more than just pictures. Beneath the photos were files - documents with names, dates, and notes. Victims cataloged like objects. Louis couldn't bring himself to read too closely, but he saw enough to recognize what he was holding. Evidence. Undeniable proof of the Red Lily's crimes.

His heart dropped as realization hit him like a freight train.

This was a message. His father was showing him what he was up against - what he was expected to protect if he wanted to prove his "loyalty."

Louis staggered back, dropping the lid onto the box and pressing his hands to his knees to steady himself. He felt like he couldn't breathe. The women in those photos, they were victims, just like the ones his father had used and discarded. Just like the women Gemma had likely been.

And now, Louis was standing in the middle of it. A pawn in his father's sick game.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking through the suffocating silence. He pulled it out with shaking hands and saw a message from an unknown number:

"Do you understand now? Choose your side wisely. See you in six days."

Louis stared at the screen, his chest heaving as rage, fear, and guilt churned inside him. He clenched the phone tightly, his knuckles white. He knew he couldn't turn back now. He was going to bring the Red Lily down, no matter the cost.

But as he stood there, surrounded by evidence of his father's monstrous empire, he couldn't help but think about Harry. About how Harry would react when he found out. About whether Harry would still look at him with love, or with the same hatred Louis felt for his father.

Louis drove home in silence, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. His mind was racing, images of the photos flashing in his mind, the weight of the box of evidence sitting heavily in his trunk.

When he finally arrived, he wasted no time. He grabbed the box and made his way inside, locking the door behind him. His house felt colder than usual, the silence oppressive. He quickly moved to his office, opening the hidden safe behind a bookshelf.

He placed the box inside, his hands shaking as he secured the lock. It wasn't much, but it was the safest place he could think of for now. He leaned against the wall, his forehead resting on the cool surface as he tried to gather his thoughts.

He needed to tell someone. He couldn't do this alone.

Without thinking too much, he grabbed his phone and called Zayn.

"Louis?" Zayn's voice was cautious when he picked up, tinged with curiosity and concern. "What's going on? You okay?"

"I—" Louis hesitated, running a hand through his hair. He felt like he was going to break apart if he didn't let this out. "I need to talk to you. Can you come over?"

There was a brief pause before Zayn answered. "Of course. Give me twenty minutes."

True to his word, Zayn arrived in less than twenty minutes. Louis let him in, his face pale and drawn.

Zayn immediately picked up on the tension. "What happened?" he asked, stepping inside.

Louis gestured for him to follow and led him to the office. Once they were seated, Louis took a deep breath. "I got a letter. From my father."

Zayn's expression darkened. "What did it say?"

"It had coordinates," Louis explained, his voice low and strained. "Led me to a storage unit. Inside, there was a box. Evidence. Photos. Documents. Of the women. The victims." His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard to regain control.

Zayn sat back, stunned. "He gave you evidence of his own operation?"

Louis nodded. "It's not just evidence. It's a threat. He wants me to prove my loyalty by staying quiet. By protecting him."

"Jesus, Lou," Zayn muttered, running a hand over his face. "What are you going to do?"

Louis shook his head, his hands gripping the edge of his desk. "I don't know yet. I want to bring him down, but... if I make one wrong move, he'll know. And if he knows..." He didn't need to finish the sentence. They both understood the stakes.

"You can't do this alone," Zayn said firmly. "You need help. Niall, Harry.."

"No." Louis cut him off sharply. "Harry can't know. Not yet. He's just out of the hospital. He's already been through hell because of me."

Zayn frowned. "And you think keeping him in the dark is going to protect him?"

"It's the only chance I've got to keep him safe," Louis said quietly. "Once I have a solid plan, I'll tell him. But right now... I need to figure out my next move."

Zayn sighed, leaning forward. "Okay. But you don't have to do this alone. I'll help you. Whatever you need, I'm here."

Louis looked at him, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you."

"And Louis," Zayn added, his voice soft but serious, "don't wait too long to tell Harry. You might think you're protecting him, but if he finds out you've been keeping this from him... it could destroy everything."

Louis nodded, though the weight of Zayn's words settled heavily on his chest. "I know. I just need to make sure he'll have something worth trusting me for when this is all over."

They sat in silence for a moment, the gravity of the situation hanging between them.

For now, Louis had taken the first step. But he knew the hardest part was yet to come.

Chapter Text

Harry

Harry sat in his office at the station, fingers drumming against the desk. It took all his willpower to get through the last two days, but now, there was no more time to delay. He needed answers, no matter how much it would hurt.

He stood abruptly, grabbed his jacket, and made his way out, ignoring Niall's questioning look as he headed to his car.

When Harry arrived at his parents' home, he found Desmond sitting in the study, a glass of whiskey already in hand.

"You came," Desmond said, his tone uneasy.

"Talk," Harry demanded, standing by the door, arms crossed. His voice was low and sharp.

Desmond sighed, setting the glass down. "Harry, I don't know what you think you -"

"Cut the crap," Harry snapped, his eyes blazing. "I know everything. About the blackmail. About the trafficking. About how Gemma's abduction was because of you."

Desmond froze, his face pale. "Who told you that?"

"It doesn't matter who told me!" Harry's voice rose, his anger bubbling to the surface. "You let Gemma suffer because you were too much of a coward to admit what you'd done. You should've come to me! You should've done something! You are the fucking police for fucks sake!"

"I didn't know it would go this far," Desmond said weakly, his hands shaking as he reached for the glass again.

Harry's laugh was bitter. "Didn't know? You were involved with traffickers, Dad. You knew who you were dealing with. How many lives did you ruin before this came back to bite you? And Gemma-" His voice broke, and he had to pause, taking a deep breath to regain control.

"I thought I could handle it," Desmond said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought if I stayed quiet, they'd leave us alone."

"Quiet?" Harry was shouting now. "They tortured her, Dad! Do you even understand what you've done?"

"I didn't mean for this to happen!" Desmond yelled back, but there was no conviction in his voice, just guilt and shame.

Harry's fists clenched at his sides. "I never want to see you again," he said coldly, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "You're not my father. You're a coward and a disgrace."

The door to the study opened suddenly, and Harry turned to see Anne standing there, her face pale and confused.

"Harry? Desmond? What's going on?" she asked, her eyes darting between them.

"Nothing," Desmond said quickly, standing and trying to move toward her.

"No," Harry said sharply, stopping him in his tracks. He turned to his mother, his heart breaking as he spoke. "You want to know the truth, Mum? Go ahead, father. Tell her. Tell her what you've done."

Anne's eyes filled with tears as she looked at Desmond. "What is he talking about?"

Desmond looked like he might collapse under the weight of her gaze. He turned away, his shoulders slumping.

"He's been lying to you," Harry said, his voice cracking. "He's been involved with prostitutes, Mum. He's fucking other women behind your back for years! It's not only a single, stupid affair. Oh and to top it all he managed to get into a trafficking ring. The same people who took Gemma. And when they threatened him, he stayed quiet. He let them take her." Harry knew that his words were sharp and would cut deep. He could see it on her face, as everything fell into ashes.

Anne's hand flew to her mouth, a gasp escaping as tears streamed down her face. "No... Desmond, please tell me this isn't true. Harry why would you say something like that?"

Desmond couldn't look at her. "Anne, I -"

"It's true," Harry interrupted, his voice hard. "Every word of it. I'm sorry."

Anne stumbled back, shaking her head. "How could you?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "How could you let this happen to our daughter?"

"I didn't know what to do!" Desmond said, his voice desperate now. "I was trying to protect us, protect you!"

"Protect us?" Anne's voice rose, filled with a mix of fury and heartbreak. "You call this protection? Our daughter is in a coma because of you! Our family is falling apart because of you!"

Harry couldn't take it anymore. He turned and stormed out of the study, ignoring Anne's sobs and Desmond's attempts to call after him.

As he got into his car, his hands trembled on the steering wheel. He drove aimlessly for a while before finally pulling over on the side of a quiet road.

He leaned his head against the steering wheel, tears streaming down his face. He had been so focused on saving Gemma, on finding answers, that he hadn't realized just how deeply his father's actions had fractured their family.

He didn't know how to fix this. He didn't even know if it could be fixed.

**

Louis

Louis was pacing in front of Niall's desk, his phone clutched tightly in his hand as he dialed Harry for the umpteenth time. His heart was racing, and every unanswered call only made it worse. His thoughts spiraled back to the last time Harry disappeared, the haunting image of him slumped against that tree flashing in his mind.

"Pick up, dammit," Louis muttered under his breath, his fingers trembling as he tried to call again.

"Still nothing?" Niall's voice pulled him from his panic, and Louis turned to see him standing nearby, arms crossed and an equally worried expression on his face.

Louis shook his head. "Nothing. Not a single sign."

Niall sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "He's got to come back soon. He knows we're worried."

"Yeah, well, he knew that last time too," Louis snapped, his voice betraying his rising anxiety.

Before Niall could respond, the doors to the station swung open, and Harry walked in, his shoulders slumped and his face pale.

"Harry!" Louis practically ran to him, stopping short just before crashing into him. His eyes scanned Harry's face, looking for any sign of distress. "Are you okay? Where the hell were you?"

"Jesus, Harry," Niall added as he stepped closer, his voice equal parts relief and frustration. "You can't just disappear like that!"

"I'm fine," Harry said quietly, though his voice was heavy with exhaustion.

"Fine?" Louis said, his tone sharp as he grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him aside. "Do you have any idea how worried we've been? You can't just walk out like that and go silent!"

Harry finally looked at Louis, his eyes glassy with unspoken emotions. "I confronted my father." he said softly.

Louis froze, his grip on Harry's arm loosening slightly. "What?"

"I talked to him. Made him confess everything," Harry continued, his voice hollow. "And... mum knows now. She walked in on us arguing, and I had to tell her. She knows everything."

Louis's heart sank at the pain in Harry's voice. "How is she?"

"Heartbroken," Harry admitted, his jaw tightening. "I've never seen her like that. And I'm to blame for that too, I was furious and I basically threw everything at her in the most insensitive way. And my father... he's just... he's Desmond. He's ashamed, but not enough to fix anything. I told him I never want to see him again."

Niall let out a low whistle, clearly unsure of what to say.

Harry glanced between them, his shoulders sagging further. "I need to see Gemma. I need to be with her right now."

"Of course" Louis said immediately. "I'll take you."

"You don't have to -"

"I'll take you" Louis interrupted firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Harry nodded, too drained to fight him on it.

**

The car ride to the hospital was quiet, the tension between them palpable. Louis kept glancing over at Harry, watching the way his hands fidgeted in his lap, his jaw clenched as he stared out the window.

When they finally arrived, Harry practically bolted from the car, leaving Louis to catch up as they made their way to Gemma's room.

Anne was already there, sitting by Gemma's bedside, her hands clasped tightly together as she watched her daughter's peaceful face. She looked up when they entered, her eyes red and swollen from crying.

"Harry," She said softly, standing as he approached.

He pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly as she let out a quiet sob against his shoulder. Louis hung back, giving them space as he watched them with a lump in his throat.

"I'm sorry, mum," Harry whispered, his voice cracking. "I'm so sorry for all of this. I'm sorry for being so insensitive but -"

"It's not your fault. We can talk more about it over a dinner?" Anne interrupted, pulling back to look at him and he nodded, sensing that she doesn't want to talk about it right now.

Her gaze shifted to Louis, offering him a small, sad smile. "Thank you for bringing him."

Louis nodded. "Of course."

Harry took a seat by Gemma's bed, his hand reaching out to gently hold hers. "I'm going to fix this," He said softly, his voice filled with determination. "I don't care what it takes. I'm going to make it right."

Louis stood by the door, his heart aching as he watched the scene unfold. He wanted nothing more than to help Harry carry the weight of all this, but he knew it wasn't that simple.

For now, all he could do was be there. And that would have to be enough. At least until he will become the reason for Harry's next heartbreak.

**

Harry

As Harry lay in bed that night, he felt the steady rise and fall of Louis's chest against him, grounding him in a way he hadn't realized he needed until now.

His mind raced despite the stillness of the room. The events of the past weeks played out like a reel in his head, Gemma's abduction, the dark discoveries about his father, the near experience with death, and the emotional whiplash of coming back to life. Harry knew the flashbacks from the night he nearly died wouldn't just go away, and he knew he needed to find a therapist to help him face it all.

Every moment felt like a nightmare he couldn't wake from, but then there was Louis. Louis, who somehow turned the nightmare into something bearable. Louis, who was his anchor in the chaos.

He tightened his hold on Louis, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Louis stirred slightly but didn't wake, his soft breaths fanning against Harry's skin.

Harry's thoughts shifted to the love they'd found amidst all this darkness. He couldn't believe it sometimes, how someone like Louis could love him, how he could feel so deeply for someone else even with everything falling apart around them. It was messy and complicated, but it was also the most amazing thing he'd ever experienced.

And then there was the case. The Red Lily loomed like a shadow over their lives, threatening to tear everything apart if they didn't put an end to it. The weight of what they still had to do was crushing, and Harry wondered how long it would take, how much more pain they'd have to endure before they could finally say it was over.

But what then? What would their lives look like once the case was solved? Would they be free to just... exist? To wake up every morning without the burden of danger hanging over their heads? He wanted to believe it, but it felt so far away, like a dream he couldn't quite reach. Also, what would Louis do after the case was over? Will he go back to Germany? They had never talked about that.

Still, he allowed himself to imagine it for a moment, a life where they weren't constantly looking over their shoulders. A life where Louis could smile without worry and where Harry could finally breathe. Maybe they'd move somewhere quieter, or maybe they'd stay right here, building a home together. Either way, Harry knew one thing for sure. He wanted Louis there, by his side, no matter what.

He pressed a gentle kiss to Louis's temple, his heart aching with a mix of love and fear. "Whatever the future holds," Harry whispered softly, more to himself than anyone else, "I'll fight for it. For us."

Louis shifted slightly in his sleep, murmuring something incoherent before settling back into Harry's arms. Harry smiled despite himself, his eyes growing heavy as the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with him.

Chapter Text

Louis

Louis sat in the dim light of his living room, staring down at the small notebook in his lap where he had outlined his plan. It wasn't a plan he wanted to make, nor one he ever thought he would have to execute, but there was no other way. His father was a monster, a man who had built an empire of fear, trafficking, and violence under the guise of the Red Lily. And Louis knew that simply removing him from power wouldn't be enough. Arresting Richard might bring temporary relief, but the structure he had built was too strong, too loyal to him, and it would continue to function like a well-oiled machine without its leader. The only way to truly destroy it was to kill Richard.

The thought made Louis feel sick to his stomach. He wasn't a killer, nor did he ever want to become one. But his father wasn't just any criminal. Richard Tomlinson was untouchable by normal means, and every time Louis tried to think of an alternative, the reality of the situation became clearer: Richard's death was the only way to stop this nightmare for good.

Louis had a unique advantage, he was Richard's son, his rightful heir. Whether Louis wanted the title or not, in Richard's eyes, Louis was the only one who could continue his legacy. That twisted sense of pride was Louis' way in. He would gain his father's trust, play the dutiful son, and bide his time until Richard finally let his guard down. And when that happened, Louis would strike. If Richard died, the title of leader would fall to Louis, giving him control of the entire operation. From there, Louis could dismantle the Red Lily piece by piece, ensuring no one else would step in to take his father's place.

But none of it would be easy. Richard wasn't stupid. He had built his empire by being ruthless, paranoid, and always one step ahead of everyone. Gaining his trust would take time, but he only had a few days left until. One misstep, and he could lose everything. His life, his freedom, and, most importantly, Harry.

Harry. That was the part of the plan that scared Louis the most. He knew Harry would hate this. He knew that once Harry found out what Louis was planning, it could be the end of everything they had built together. Harry would never forgive him for keeping this secret, for putting himself in such danger, and for crossing a line that Harry swore he'd never cross. But Louis couldn't let himself think about that now. There was too much at stake, and he couldn't afford to second-guess himself.

Louis leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. The weight of his plan settled heavily on his chest. The idea of killing his father wasn't just about the act itself, it was about what it would make him. He was terrified that, in trying to destroy Richard, he might become him. But then he thought of Harry, of Gemma, of the countless women and children whose lives had been destroyed by the Red Lily. If this was what it took to stop Richard once and for all, then Louis would do it.

He closed the notebook and set it aside, his jaw tightening with resolve. He had no choice. If he was going to save the people he loved and make up for the sins of his family, he had to be ready to face his father head-on. One way or another, Richard Tomlinson's reign would end.

**

The next day at the station was chaos. The kind of chaos that suffocated the room and left everyone on edge. Phones rang incessantly, voices overlapped, and the sound of fingers tapping on keyboards created an unrelenting buzz. Louis stood in the middle of it all, a cup of lukewarm coffee in hand, trying to focus on the stacks of files and maps on the table in front of him.

The team had spent the last two days questioning every man who had been blackmailed in connection to the Red Lily. It turned out all of them had been in the same situation as Desmond - clients of prostitutes who were later revealed to have been victims of trafficking. None of them claimed to know the full extent of the Red Lily's operations, but the evidence painted a clear picture. Every man involved had unknowingly funded and fueled Richard Tomlinson's empire, and worse, their daughters had been targeted in retaliation for unpaid debts or disobedience.

Out of the six girls who had been abducted, two bodies had already been recovered. Louis felt a cold chill run down his spine whenever he thought about those poor families. Gemma's miraculous survival provided a shred of hope, but there were still three missing girls. Three too many.

The station had turned into a war room, with maps pinned to every available surface and clusters of detectives arguing over possible leads. They poured over the blackmail letters, phone records, and witness statements, trying to piece together a pattern that might lead them to the remaining girls.

Louis's knowledge of the Red Lily gave him something that no one else had, but even with his insider understanding, he was just as lost as the others. He looked over the photos in the box but nothing on them gave him any clues as to where the girls might be. His father was meticulous, and the Red Lily's operations were so widespread and deeply rooted that they were impossible to predict. His own frustration was mounting with every dead end they hit.

And then there was the press.

Word of the case had again leaked to the media, and now they were dealing with a flood of reporters camped outside the station. Headlines screamed about the prostitution ring and the high-profile men involved, turning the city into a boiling pot of outrage and fear. Citizens were panicked, especially parents. The phones rang nonstop with worried residents asking for updates or demanding more action. Officers were trying to keep order while the detectives worked around the clock.

Louis rubbed a hand over his face, exhausted. He glanced over at Harry, who was hunched over a table with Niall, examining a set of crime scene photos. Harry's expression was grim, his jaw tight, but he was holding it together. Barely. Louis knew Harry was determined to stay strong, but he could see the toll this was taking on him. Gemma's abduction was personal, and Harry wanted justice more than anyone, but Louis worried that his boyfriend's stubbornness might push him too far.

Louis took a deep breath and returned his focus to the map in front of him. They had marked every known Red Lily operation, every potential hideout, and every location mentioned in the blackmail letters. But nothing stood out. His father's web was too intricate, and Louis knew Richard wouldn't leave anything to chance.

Even though he gave Louis something already, it wasn't enough.

As the hours dragged on, the station only grew busier. More evidence trickled in, more interviews were conducted, and more questions arose. Louis kept his head down and worked, but his mind wandered to his own secret mission. He couldn't help but think about the letter he'd received, the storage unit he'd visited, and the plan he was forming. Every minute he spent at the station felt like a countdown to his inevitable confrontation with his father.

For now, though, he had to focus on the task at hand. Three girls were still out there, and time was running out.

**

Later that day, Louis and Harry drove to Harry's house, the weight of the day's events slightly less pressing than usual. The plan was simple: dinner with Anne. A chance to clear up some of her lingering questions about the case, discuss Desmond with honesty, and - on a brighter note - officially introduce Louis as Harry's boyfriend.

The car ride was quiet but comfortable, Harry tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm to the music playing softly on the radio. He seemed... giddy, his usual stoic demeanor replaced with something lighter, almost excited. Louis noticed the way his lips kept twitching upward into a faint smile, as though he couldn't quite contain it.

"Alright, what's got you buzzing, Styles?" Louis teased, breaking the silence.

Harry shot him a quick glance, his grin widening. "What are you talking about?"

"You're grinning like a schoolboy," Louis said, leaning back in his seat. "It's cute, but also mildly suspicious."

Harry laughed, his cheeks tinting pink. "I don't know. It just... it feels good, you know? Having dinner with Mum, introducing you properly, it feels like something normal for once."

Louis's chest tightened at the sincerity in Harry's tone. He reached across the console, letting his hand rest on Harry's knee. "Well, I'm honored to be part of your normal, love."

They pulled into the driveway a few minutes later, and Harry immediately got to work in the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves with a determination Louis found both endearing and hilarious.

"Let me help," Louis offered, but Harry shook his head, pointing to the stool by the counter.

"Nope. You're on relaxation duty tonight. Sit down and look pretty," Harry said, already gathering ingredients from the fridge.

Louis raised an eyebrow but complied, perching on the stool and folding his arms across his chest. "I can't believe you're keeping me out of my own boyfriend's kitchen. What if I want to contribute to this masterpiece?"

Harry smirked as he started chopping vegetables with practiced ease. "I've seen you cook, Tomlinson. This is for your own good."

Louis laughed, the sound echoing warmly through the kitchen. He settled in, watching Harry move around with effortless grace. The way he worked, completely in his element, was mesmerizing. Harry hummed softly under his breath, occasionally tasting the sauce he was making and nodding to himself in satisfaction.

"You're staring," Harry said without looking up, his voice teasing.

"Can you blame me?" Louis replied, propping his chin on his hand. "You're unfairly good at this domestic thing. It's like I'm watching a cooking show, but better, because the chef's hot."

Harry rolled his eyes, though his smile betrayed him. "You're impossible."

"And yet, here I am, in your kitchen," Louis quipped, earning a soft laugh from Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes, but his blush gave him away. "Shut up."

Louis chuckled but didn't look away. Watching Harry in the kitchen, humming under his breath and sneaking bites of food, felt like a glimpse into a life they could have once everything settled. It was domestic and warm and everything Louis never thought he'd have.

"I mean it," Louis said softly, his tone more serious now. "Watching you like this... It's everything I didn't know I wanted."

Harry paused, his hand stilling on the pan he was stirring. He turned to look at Louis, his expression softening. "You're such a sap."

"Only for you."

Harry shook his head, grinning as he turned back to his cooking. Louis could see the tips of his ears turning red, and it made his chest ache with affection.

By the time the food was ready, the house smelled incredible, the table was set, and Harry looked more relaxed than Louis had seen him in days.

When Anne arrived, she greeted both of them warmly, pulling Harry into a tight hug before turning to Louis.

"It's so good to see you again, Louis," She said, her smile genuine.

"You too, Anne," Louis replied, shaking her hand before she surprised him with a quick hug.

They sat down to eat, the atmosphere comfortable and easy. Anne was full of praise for Harry's cooking, which made him beam with pride. Louis couldn't help but smile at how happy Harry seemed, soaking in the warmth of the moment.

But as the evening wore on, the conversation inevitably turned toward Desmond and the case. Anne's expression grew more serious as she looked at her son.

"There are still things I don't understand," She said softly, her eyes searching Harry's face. "About your father, about everything that's happened."

Harry hesitated, glancing at Louis for support. Louis gave him a subtle nod, his hand brushing against Harry's under the table.

"Mum," Harry began, his voice steady but careful. "I know it's a lot to take in. I still don't have all the answers myself, but... Dad's involvement with the Red Lily, with those girls, it's undeniable. He admitted it. I know he didn't know about the extent of any of it. But still, the things his actions caused .."

Anne's face crumpled, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. "I just can't believe it," she whispered. "The man I married... I don't even know who he is anymore."

Harry reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "You're not alone in this, mum. None of us are."

They talked for a while longer, Harry and Louis answering Anne's questions as best they could while also reassuring her that she wasn't to blame for any of it. By the time the evening ended, the air felt lighter, as though some of the weight had been lifted.

When Anne hugged them both goodbye, she whispered to Louis, "Thank you for being there for him."

Louis watched her go, his heart full as he turned back to Harry, who was tidying up in the kitchen.

"What?" Harry asked when he caught Louis staring again.

"Nothing," Louis said, crossing the room to kiss him softly. "Just... I'm proud of you, that's all."

Harry smiled against his lips. "I couldn't do it without you."

And for the first time in weeks, things felt... hopeful.

Chapter Text

Louis woke up to the soft glow of morning light filtering through Harry's curtains, the comforting sound of Harry's breathing steady beside him. For a brief moment, it felt like the world wasn't so heavy, like they could just exist together without all the chaos looming over them.

But then his phone vibrated on the nightstand.

He grabbed it quickly, careful not to disturb Harry. His stomach dropped when he saw the message.

8 AM. Coordinates will lead you there. Be presentable. Don't be late.

It was from his father.

Louis's pulse quickened, his eyes darting to Harry's sleeping form. He couldn't let him see this, not now. The thought of Harry finding out, of piecing everything together before Louis was ready to tell him the truth, made his chest tighten.

The clock on the phone read 4:15 am. The meeting was in less than four hours. He had no idea what Richard wanted or why the instructions were so cryptic, but he had a sinking feeling this was more than just a simple test.

The real problem, though, was the timing. They were supposed to be at the office later that morning, going through the newest leads on the Red Lily case. He couldn't just disappear without an explanation, it would draw too much suspicion.

Louis sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to think. What could he say that wouldn't raise alarms? What excuse could he give that Harry and Niall would believe?

Harry stirred beside him, mumbling something unintelligible before settling back into his pillow. Louis's chest ached at the sight of him, so peaceful and unaware of the storm brewing in his life.

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Harry's temple. "I'll make this right," He whispered, more to himself than to Harry.

After a few minutes of thinking, he decided to keep it vague. If anyone asked, he'd say he was following up on a lead connected to Desmond. It wasn't a complete lie, at least, it was adjacent to the truth. And he'd make sure to be back at the office before anyone noticed he was gone too long.

Louis grabbed his phone and typed out a quick message to Niall: Might be late to the office. Following up on something. Will update you soon.

Satisfied with the excuse, he slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Harry, and started getting ready. If Richard wanted him "presentable," he'd damn well make sure he looked the part.

As he buttoned up a crisp shirt and adjusted his jacket in the mirror, a thought crept into his mind: whatever was waiting for him at the meeting, it wouldn't be simple. His father didn't summon him without a reason, and Louis had the distinct feeling this was another test of loyalty.

But he couldn't let the fear show. Not to Richard, not to his men. And certainly not to Harry.

With one last glance at Harry's sleeping form, Louis slipped out of the room, determination and dread warring in his chest.

**

Harry

Harry woke up to the daylight streaming through the window and the unmistakable emptiness of the bed beside him. He blinked a few times, groggily registering that Louis wasn't there. His first thought was that Louis might've gone downstairs to make tea, but when he called out softly, the house was silent.

Frowning, he reached for his phone on the nightstand. No missed calls. He dialed Louis's number, only to be sent straight to voicemail.

"Hey, Lou," Harry said after the tone, trying to keep his voice casual. "I just woke up, and you're not here. Hope everything's okay. Call me when you get this."

He hung up and checked his messages. There it was, one from Louis, sent hours ago:

"Had to arrange some things. Didn't want to wake you. Be back later. Hope you slept well. I love you."

Harry stared at the message, his stomach twisting slightly. It sounded innocent enough, but something about it felt off. He tried to shake the thought away, reminding himself that Louis wouldn't just disappear for no reason.

Still, the bad feeling crept back, the same one that had been lingering since Louis revealed the situation with Desmond. Harry hated thinking like this, hated doubting Louis when he had no real reason to. But he couldn't help it. There were too many secrets in their lives lately, too many things left unsaid.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as if it would somehow dispel the nagging thoughts. Instead of dwelling on it, he messaged Louis back:

"Okay. Hope everything's alright. Let me know if you need anything. I love you."

Satisfied for now, Harry set his phone down and tried to focus on having a calm morning. He made himself breakfast, tidied up the kitchen, and even spent a few moments reading the newspaper, though he barely absorbed any of the words.

Eventually, he decided he couldn't sit around the house any longer. He grabbed his keys and headed to the office, figuring he could at least immerse himself in work. Maybe Niall would have updates or something to distract him.

When Harry arrived at the station, Niall was already there, a coffee in hand as he scrolled through reports. He glanced up when Harry walked in and raised an eyebrow.

"Morning," Niall greeted, handing Harry a folder. "Where's Louis? He said he might be late, but I thought he'd be here by now."

Harry tried to keep his voice light as he answered. "Not sure. Said he had to arrange some things. Didn't tell me what, though."

Niall gave him a curious look but didn't push. "Well, guess it's just you and me for now. Let's go through these leads before we get swamped with calls again."

Harry nodded, but as he sat down and opened the folder, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering. Where was Louis? And why couldn't he shake the feeling that something wasn't right?

**

Louis

Louis arrived at the coordinates, his car pulling up outside yet another desolate storage facility. The industrial park was quiet, the kind of silence that made every small sound seem amplified. He climbed out of the car, slipping his phone into his jacket pocket, and scanned his surroundings. There was no one in sight, but the tension in his chest told him he wasn't alone.

He approached the row of storage rooms cautiously, his footsteps echoing against the cracked asphalt. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a message:

"8754."

A four-digit code. Louis's eyes darted across the numbered locks on the storage doors. So that was the game. He had to figure out which one matched.

He moved quickly, running his fingers across the locks, trying the code on each. The repetitive beep of failure followed him down the line until - click.

The lock of unit 28 released, and Louis hesitated for a split second before he pulled the door open. The metallic groan echoed in the cavernous space, and the faint light filtering in from above did little to reveal what was inside.

The smell hit him first, stale, damp, and tinged with something metallic. As his eyes adjusted, he saw her. A girl, tied to a chair in the middle of the room. She was slumped forward, her hair hanging in front of her face, but he could see she was breathing, shallow and uneven.

"Jesus Christ," Louis whispered, stepping forward instinctively. She was young, no older than her early twenties, and she looked like she'd been through hell. Her wrists and ankles were bound tightly, her skin bruised and pale, and there was dried blood on the corner of her mouth.

Louis knelt beside her, his hands shaking as he tried to assess her condition. "Hey," he said softly, not sure if she could hear him. "It's okay. I'm here to help."

She didn't respond, her head lolling slightly to the side.

Louis reached for his phone, intending to call for help and backup, but his thumb hovered over the screen. He froze, his mind racing. He couldn't. He couldn't risk it. This wasn't just any situation, this was a test. A trap.

His phone buzzed again.

"Smile for the camera."

Louis's blood ran cold. He glanced around the room, his eyes darting to the corners, and then he saw it. A small camera mounted high on the wall, its lens pointed directly at him.

Panic set in as the realization hit him. He was being filmed. This wasn't just a test of his loyalty, it was a setup. Now there would be footage of him, alone in a room with one of the missing girls. If he called for help or tried to free her, it could be spun to make him look complicit.

"Bastard," Louis hissed under his breath. His father was two steps ahead, as always.

He looked back at the girl, guilt twisting in his gut. She needed help, but right now, Louis had no idea how to get her out of this without ruining his plan or implicating himself.

For a moment, he just stood there, helpless, staring at the camera. Then, forcing himself to move, he knelt again and whispered to the girl, "I'll come back for you. I promise."

He stood and turned to face the camera. His jaw tightened, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides, but he forced himself to put on a neutral expression. He stared straight into the lens, letting it capture him fully before turning and walking out of the storage room, leaving the girl behind.

The door clanged shut behind him, but the sound felt like a nail in the coffin.

**

Harry

Harry's day had been uneventful so far, filled with paperwork and the occasional interruption from Niall's commentary about nothing in particular. He didn't mind, it gave his mind something to focus on other than the gnawing feeling that had been with him since waking up alone that morning. Louis's text had been simple, reassuring even, but something about it didn't sit right with Harry.

When Louis finally walked into the station that afternoon, Harry was watching the clock, pretending not to be overly aware of his absence. Louis had three takeaway cups of tea in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other, his face lit up with a disarming smile.

"Look who decided to show up," Niall teased, leaning back in his chair.

Louis ignored him, his eyes going straight to Harry. He crossed the room in a few long strides, setting the tea and bag on Harry's desk before leaning down to kiss him lightly on the lips. "Morning, love. Sorry I left without waking you," He murmured, his voice low enough that Niall couldn't hear.

Harry tilted his head, studying him. Louis looked fine. Completely normal, like he hadn't done anything unusual all day. But there was something about his smile that felt... practiced. Harry brushed it off for the moment, not wanting to ruin the moment. "It's afternoon," He said with a soft laugh, tapping Louis's arm.

"Well, it's morning for me." Louis grabbed a scone from the bag and took a bite, one hand already reaching for a folder on Harry's desk. "I brought you tea, so you're not allowed to be mad at me."

"I'm not mad," Harry said quickly, but Louis had already moved on, scanning the top sheet of the file.

Across the room, Niall gave Harry a pointed look, eyebrows raised. Harry shrugged in response, unsure how to interpret his partner's silent question.

The three of them settled into a comfortable rhythm, going over the details of the case. It felt like any other day, but Harry couldn't shake the nagging feeling in his chest. Louis was acting normal, too normal. He was engaged, sharp as ever, but something about him seemed... off.

They were halfway through a discussion about possible locations for the remaining missing girls when Louis suddenly spoke up, his tone confident. "What about these?" He slid a paper across the table, a list of locations scrawled in his handwriting.

Harry frowned, leaning over to look. "Where'd you get these?"

Louis shrugged, taking another bite of his scone. "Just did some thinking. Cross-referenced a few things, thought they might be worth checking out."

Niall leaned forward, squinting at the list. "They weren't on the radar before. How'd you come up with them?"

"Call it intuition," Louis said, his tone light. "But I don't think we should send a team just yet. Let's sit on it for a bit, make sure it's not a dead end."

Harry exchanged a glance with Niall, his unease growing. Intuition? Louis was smart, brilliant even, but this wasn't like him.

"Why wait?" Harry asked, his voice calm but probing.

Louis gave him a small smile, his blue eyes steady. "Just want to make sure we're thorough. No point rushing into things and wasting resources."

Harry nodded slowly, but the pit in his stomach grew heavier. Something about the way Louis was handling this, about the way he had been all day, wasn't sitting right with him. But he didn't press, not yet.

"Alright," Niall said after a moment, leaning back in his chair. "We'll hold off for now. But let me know when you're ready to move."

Louis nodded, already scribbling something in the margin of one of the reports. Harry watched him carefully, noting the tension in his shoulders, the way his movements seemed just a little too deliberate.

Whatever Louis was hiding, Harry was determined to find out. But for now, he stayed quiet, sipping his tea and pretending not to notice the cracks in the facade.

Chapter Text

Louis

The night had been quiet. Too quiet, as far as Louis was concerned. It was the kind of stillness that only made the tension worse. But with Harry asleep beside him, his head resting gently on Louis's chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing had been the only thing keeping Louis grounded. They left the station on good terms this evening and Louis only hoped he had enough time.

He had no idea when he'd drifted off, but the sharp trill of his phone pulled him violently out of sleep. His heart leapt in his chest as he fumbled for the device, the sound loud and intrusive in the dark room.

Harry stirred beside him. "What's wrong?" He asked groggily, voice thick with sleep.

Louis didn't answer immediately, his eyes glued to the glowing screen. Niall's name flashed across it, the tension in his stomach knotting tighter. Without a word, Louis slid out of bed and took the call, pacing to the far corner of the room.

"What is it?" He asked quietly, trying not to wake Harry further.

"We found another body," Niall said, his voice grim. "You need to get down here. I've sent you the address."

Louis froze, his blood running cold. "Another body?"

Niall sighed heavily on the other end of the line. "Yeah. It's bad, Lou. Just... get here."

Louis ended the call and turned to Harry, who was now sitting up in bed, rubbing at his eyes. "We have to go," Louis said, his voice tight.

"What happened?" Harry asked, already swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

"They found another body," Louis said simply, avoiding Harry's gaze.

Within minutes, they were dressed and in the car, the silence between them thick and suffocating. Harry drove, his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel, and Louis stared out the window, trying to keep his composure.

When they arrived at the location Niall had sent, the scene was as always, officers milled around, red and blue lights illuminated the night sky and overall it was tense.

Niall was waiting for them near the tape. Louis had a bad feeling about it, somehow he already knew whose body they'll find there.

Louis's legs felt like lead as he followed Niall to the body. The girl lay sprawled on the ground, her lifeless eyes staring up at the night sky. Her injuries were brutal, her body a canvas of cruelty. But Louis didn't need to examine her face to know it was the same girl from the storage. The one he'd left behind.

He turned away abruptly, bile rising in his throat. He barely made it to the edge of the street before he vomited, his body wracked with tremors. Harry was beside him in an instant, his hand on Louis's back, steady and grounding.

"You alright?" Harry asked, his voice tight with concern.

"Yes and no," Louis admitted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He straightened, though his knees felt weak. "This is getting too close. We need to figure this out. Fast."

Harry nodded grimly, his green eyes dark with determination. "We will. I promise."

Back at the scene, Niall gave them the grim details, the girl had been dead for hours, likely killed soon after Louis had seen her. Slaughtered and bled out like an animal. The implications were clear. This is a message.

"We need to put protection on Gemma," Louis said suddenly, his voice sharp.

Harry's head snapped toward him. "You think she's in danger?"

"I'm not taking any chances," Louis said firmly. "Not with this."

Harry didn't argue, nodding in agreement. They made the call, arranging for additional security at the hospital for Gemma. As they drove back to Harry's house later that night, the weight of it all hung heavy between them.

Louis stared out the window, his jaw clenched tight. The guilt gnawed at him, sharper now than ever. He'd been so sure he could do this, that he could outmaneuver his father and the Red Lily.

But what if not?

**

The visit to the parents of the girl had been unbearable. Louis felt like he could barely breathe under the weight of their grief, especially the mother's cries, which echoed long after they left the house. He couldn't stop picturing the girl alive, tied to that chair, the terror in her eyes. And he couldn't tell anyone, not Harry, not Niall, not even Zayn, that he had seen her, that he might have been able to save her if only he'd... if only he could've done something.

He felt Harry's eyes on him as they walked back to the car, but Harry said nothing. Louis appreciated it in a way, even though the silence felt heavy, like a looming storm.

The drive back to Harry's house was quiet, neither of them speaking. The image of the grieving parents stayed with them, a haunting reminder of how high the stakes were. When they finally stepped inside the house, the air was thick with tension.

Harry locked the door and leaned against it for a moment, his shoulders slumping. Louis dropped his keys on the counter, glancing over at Harry, and in that moment, something unspoken passed between them. A desperate need for comfort, for connection, for something to hold onto in a world that felt like it was falling apart.

Louis crossed the room in a few quick steps and pulled Harry into a kiss. It was soft at first, gentle and grounding, but it quickly deepened, both of them clinging to each other as though they'd drown otherwise. Harry's hands slid to Louis's waist, pulling him closer, and they stumbled together toward the bathroom, shedding clothes as they went.

Inside the shower, the hot water cascaded over them, washing away the grime and tension of the day. They stayed there for a long time, holding each other, their touches tender and grounding. It wasn't just about passion, it was about finding a moment of peace in the chaos, about reminding themselves that they were still here, still together.

Afterward, Louis grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Harry, smiling softly as he grabbed the blow dryer from under the sink. Harry sat on the edge of the bathtub while Louis gently ran the dryer through his damp curls. It was an oddly domestic moment, one that might've felt ordinary in another life, and Louis clung to it, wishing they could freeze time and stay in this bubble of calm.

When Harry's hair was dry, they made tea and curled up on the couch together. Harry rested his head on Louis's shoulder, their fingers loosely intertwined. For a little while, it felt like the rest of the world didn't exist.

Then came the knock at the door.

They both froze, the peaceful moment shattered. Harry was on his feet first, reaching for his gun, and Louis quickly followed suit. They moved toward the door cautiously, Louis's heart hammering in his chest.

Harry opened the door, gun raised, only to find... nothing. No one was there. But an envelope lay on the doorstep, stark and menacing in the dim light.

Louis's stomach dropped the moment he saw the symbol pressed onto the front: a Red Lily. And he was sure he knew what was inside.

Harry leaned down to pick it up, but Louis quickly grabbed his arm. "Don't," he said sharply, his voice betraying his panic.

Harry frowned, confused. "It's just an envelope-"

"It's not just anything," Louis cut him off, his voice low. He snatched the envelope before Harry could argue and clutched it tightly in his hand, his mind racing.

Harry's gaze narrowed. "What's going on, Lou? Why are you acting like this?"

"I -" Louis hesitated, his throat dry. He couldn't let Harry see what was inside. He couldn't risk it. He needed an out, a way to explain this without giving too much away.

"I just...," Louis said carefully, choosing his words. "We don't know what's inside, and it could be dangerous."

Harry's eyes searched Louis's face, skeptical but concerned. "Then we need to open it. Together."

"No," Louis said firmly, holding the envelope away from Harry. "Not tonight. You've been through enough. Let me handle this, okay? I'll give it to our forensics first."

"Louis, that's not how this works -"

"Harry," Louis interrupted, his voice softening. He reached out, cupping Harry's face with one hand. "Trust me. Please."

Harry's jaw clenched, but after a long moment, he nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But you're not doing this alone. Whatever's in there, we deal with it together."

Louis forced a smile, nodding even as his heart sank. "Of course," he lied.

But he knew he couldn't let Harry be part of this. Whatever was in the envelope, it was meant for him, and he would deal with it alone.

**

Harry

Harry sat on the edge of the couch, the envelope in his trembling hands. He stared at it for a moment, his heart racing as he debated whether this was the right thing to do. But the nagging feeling in his chest, the suspicion that Louis was hiding something, overpowered his hesitation.

He glanced over at the stairs where Louis was in his bedroom sound asleep in their bed. He couldn't ignore the gut-wrenching feeling anymore.

Carefully, he tore open the envelope, trying to make as little noise as possible. His hands shook as he unfolded the note inside. His heart pounded harder, endless possibilities racing through his mind: blackmail, threats, something about his sister, or worse, something about Louis himself.

The paper felt too light in his hand, almost like it shouldn't weigh as much as it did. His eyes scanned the note, and for a moment, he didn't understand.

There was just one line written on the page, in sharp, angular handwriting:

"The seed cannot escape the shadow of the tree."

Harry frowned, his brow furrowing deeply. He read it again. And again. It made no sense. What did that even mean?

He flipped the paper over, searching for something more, a signature, a clue, anything. But the back was blank.

Confusion and unease settled over him. What seeds? Who wrote this? And why had Louis looked so shaken when he saw the envelope?

Harry's mind spun with questions. How was this connected to the case? It felt cryptic, like a riddle meant to taunt him.

He folded the note back up and slipped it into his pocket, staring at the torn envelope for a moment longer. He knew one thing for sure: Louis was hiding something, something bigger than he could have imagined.

But for now, he'd keep it to himself. At least until he could make sense of it.

Chapter Text

Harry eventually made his way back to bed, slipping under the covers as quietly as he could. Louis shifted in his sleep, instinctively reaching for Harry, pulling him closer with a murmured sigh. For a moment, Harry let himself forget about the note, the envelope, the dread that had settled deep in his chest.

When morning came, it was Louis who woke first, brushing a soft kiss over Harry's temple. Harry groaned in protest, burying his face into the pillow, but Louis wasn't having it.

"Come on, love," Louis murmured, his voice husky with sleep. "You can't hide from me forever."

Harry peeked one eye open, meeting Louis's teasing gaze. He didn't resist when Louis leaned down to kiss him again, this time slower, more deliberate. Harry responded instinctively, his hand reaching up to tangle in Louis's hair as the kiss deepened.

Louis pressed closer, the weight of him grounding Harry, reminding him that despite the chaos swirling around them, this was real. This was theirs.

"Missed waking up like this," Louis whispered against Harry's lips.

"Me too," Harry murmured back, his hands slipping beneath Louis's shirt to trace the warm skin of his back.

Their movements became languid, exploratory, the tension from the previous night melting away as they focused entirely on each other. Louis's lips trailed down Harry's neck, leaving a path of heat in their wake. Harry tilted his head to give Louis more access, his breath hitching as Louis's hands wandered lower.

The intimacy of their foreplay wasn't rushed, it was tender, deliberate, a reaffirmation of everything they'd promised each other. Harry let himself be lost in Louis's touch, in the way their bodies moved together as if they were made for this. For each other.

"Babe, please. I want your cock." Louis whimpered as Harry's fingers brushed his prostate for the thousand time. Slowly Harry pulled out his fingers, watching Louis' expression carefully, bathing in the power his touch had over the older man. He wiped them clean in the cheets and adjusted his position. 

Harry let his finger trace the contoures of Louis face down to his mouth where he pulled down his bottom lip with his thumb. "How do you want me?" 

"Shit. From behind, I want you to fuck me." Louis rasped out and Harry gave him space to turn around, he was on his front in no time and Harry grabbed his hips to pull his ass up. 

"God, Lou. I love your ass." Slap. Louis hissed and fell forward as Harry's hand landed harshly on his left cheek, he gently massaged the skin. "More?"

"Please." Louis nearly begged and pushed his ass back into Harry, his hands gripping the sheets next to his head in anticipation of what was to come. And another slap followed soon. Both men moaned, one from the feeling of pleasurable pain and the other from seeing his lover's ass cheeks redden so beautiffuly. A slight imprint of his large hands already forming and Louis' soft bum.

"Beg." Harry demanded and landed another slap. 

"Please, fuck me. I cannot wait any longer." Louis' voice was strained and Harry knew tears were already forming in his eyes, he loved it. 

"Oh, baby, I will. Just say the words." 

"Please, Daddy. Fuck me." Louis finally got out and that was it. With a deep groan Harry leaned forward and gathered some saliva, he spread Louis' cheeks and let a string drip directly onto his clenching hole. He watched mesmerised as it slowly dribbled down onto Louis balls. Another spit in his hand and he lubed up his cock. 

"You ready, babe?" Harry made sure while he still used his free hand to soothe Louis' red cheeks.

"Yes, god, fuck me already, Daddy." 

And that was all it took for Harry to slam into him. He gripped tightly onto Louis as the other man cried out in what was probably a mixture of pleasure and pain. Harry knew he could take it. It wasn't their first time like this. He knew exactly Louis could take it as well as Harry could. 

Louis whimpered in the pillow, words Harry couldn't made out. 

"Take it. Take my cock so good, Lou. So good for Daddy." his voice came out ragged like his breathing, he watched the way Louis' cheeks moved with every slam of his hips as the frame hit the wall repeatedly. 

The sound of it echoed from the walls through the room, filling the space with a sinful atmosphere. It was thick with lust, probably already smelling like sweat and sex and Harry loved every second of it. 

He watched as Louis tried to get his hand on his own cock and was quick to slap away his hands. Instead he leaned forward, his whole weight now on Louis, reaching an even deeper point that had them both moaning loudly. He grabbed both of Louis' hands with one of his and secured them above his head. 

"You'll come untouched. Just from my cock. Can you do that for me, love?" Harry watched as goosebumps formed all over Louis' neck as his hot breath hit his ear. 

All he got was a small whimper and barely a nod from the older detective. "Words, Lou."

"YES!" he screamed as Harry nearly pulled all the way out and slammed in again. "Yes, Daddy." 

"Good boy. Come for me." He still held onto his hands but used his other arm to take some of his weight off of the smaller man. Still enough so that they were pressed tightly together in all the right places. 

In this moment, Harry thought, he could die happily. With Louis under him, he'd die a happy man. Nothing will ever come close to this feeling and he silently sent a thank you to whoever it was that brought this man into his life. 

"Gonna come." Louis' staggered words pulled him out off his thoughts and he felt his own orgasm quickly nearing the peak. 

"Me too." And just as he said those words he felt Louis stiffen under him, muscles clenching aroung his cock which sent both of them over the edge. He spilled deep into Louis till the last drop and gently pulled out while he took Louis with him in his arms.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

They lay tangled in the sheets, Harry's head resting on Louis's chest, their breaths slowly evening out. Louis pressed a kiss to Harry's curls, his hand idly tracing patterns along Harry's spine.

"I don't ever want to let this go," Louis murmured, almost to himself.

Harry tilted his head up to look at him, his heart aching with how much he loved this man. "You won't have to." And god, he really hoped that would be true.

They eventually dragged themselves out of bed, laughter and light teasing filling the air as they made breakfast together. Louis brewed the tea while Harry whipped up some scrambled eggs.

But Harry couldn't shake the weight of the envelope on the table. The symbol on it had haunted him through the night, and though he'd managed to recreate it on a fresh envelope, the act of deception sat heavy on his chest.

After breakfast, Louis grabbed his coat and went to retrieve the envelope from the counter. Harry held his breath as Louis glanced at it, not noticing anything.

"Don't wait up," Louis said with a quick kiss to Harry's cheek. "I'll be back soon."

As the door shut behind him, Harry exhaled shakily. He just had to hope that when Louis eventually opened the envelope, he wouldn't notice it had been tampered with.

For now, Harry could only wait. And pray. For what? He didn't know.

**

Louis drove off with the envelope tucked securely in his jacket pocket, the weight of its presence nagging at the back of his mind. He hadn't opened it yet, there hadn't been time, and truthfully, he didn't want to risk doing it at Harry's house. Whatever it contained was meant for him and him alone, and he couldn't let anyone else get involved.

With a deep breath, he pulled the envelope from his pocket. His hands hesitated for a moment before he carefully broke the seal and slid the note out.

His eyes scanned the words, and he froze.

" Where lies your loyalty?"

His breath hitched. This wasn't what he was expecting. It wasn't a set of instructions, no next steps, no clear indication of what his father wanted him to do next. Just this cryptic, ominous message.

Louis's stomach churned as unease washed over him. Something about this felt wrong, off. He looked around the space he was in again, his hand instinctively brushing against the weapon concealed under his jacket. He hated feeling like he was being watched, but the sensation was undeniable.

He shoved the note back into the envelope and left the site, driving aimlessly for a while to clear his head. His father wasn't making this easy, and now this new message only added to the pressure.

But something else lingered at the back of his mind. Something he couldn't shake.

When Louis returned to Harry's house later that afternoon, he walked through the door to find Harry in the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove. Harry turned and smiled when he heard the door open, though Louis noticed something just a little off in the expression.

"You're back," Harry said, his voice casual but slightly tight. "Everything go okay?"

Louis set his bag down by the door and walked over, giving Harry a quick kiss on the cheek. "Yeah. Nothing out of the ordinary," he lied.

Harry nodded and turned back to the stove, but Louis didn't move away. He lingered, watching Harry carefully. Something felt... weird.

"You sure everything's okay?" Louis asked, keeping his voice light.

Harry glanced at him over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

But Louis caught the subtle stiffness in his movements, the way he avoided Louis's gaze for just a second too long. He felt his stomach tighten.

He couldn't know, Louis thought. There was no way Harry could've seen the note.

Still, Louis couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted.

What Louis didn't know was that Harry had spent nearly the entire night trying to recreate the original envelope after removing the real note. Changing it for a different one, one that will only have an effect if Louis was really hiding something. He'd agonized over every detail, making sure there wasn't a single sign of tampering.

Now, standing in the kitchen, Harry could feel Louis's eyes on him. He forced himself to keep moving, to act natural, but inside, his nerves were fraying. He didn't know what the original note meant or why Louis had kept it hidden, but the cryptic message was burned into his brain.

"The seed cannot escape the shadow of the tree."

It didn't make sense, but Harry knew it was important. Whatever this was, Louis wasn't being honest about it, and that thought made Harry's chest ache.

Still, he couldn't let Louis know what he'd done. Not yet. He had to wait, to figure out more.

For now, they both played their parts, each hiding their own secrets.

Chapter Text

Harry

Harry sat on Niall's couch, the envelope resting on the coffee table between them, its contents folded neatly inside. He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing in frustration.

"I don't know, Niall," Harry muttered. "It's like... I feel like Louis is hiding something, but I don't want to believe it's anything bad."

Niall, sitting cross-legged with a cup of tea in hand, studied Harry. "You're not saying you think he's involved in all of this, are you? Like with the Red Lily?"

Harry shook his head quickly. "No, of course not. I mean, Louis wouldn't - he couldn't be. That's ridiculous. It's just... his behavior. The disappearing, the secrecy. And then this." He gestured to the envelope.

Niall leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at the note Harry had shown him earlier. "A riddle about roots? It's cryptic, sure. But it doesn't exactly scream guilty."

"But why wouldn't Louis tell me?" Harry asked, his voice tinged with frustration. "Why would he even get something like this? And why wouldn't he open it?"

Niall tilted his head, considering. "Maybe he already knew what's in it," he suggested.

Harry blinked, the thought sending a chill down his spine. "You think he's been expecting something like this?"

Niall shrugged. "I don't know. But it's possible. And if he has been, then it means whatever this is, it's personal. Maybe it's got nothing to do with the case and everything to do with... I don't know, his past."

"His past?" Harry repeated, frowning.

"You said it yourself," Niall said. "He doesn't talk about his dad. You don't know much about his family. Maybe this note has something to do with that. Maybe..." He hesitated.

"Maybe what?" Harry pressed.

Niall sighed. "Maybe his Dad is tied to all of this. Somehow."

Harry's stomach churned at the suggestion. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to believe that someone Louis was connected to could be involved in something as monstrous as the Red Lily.

"I can't accuse him of anything, Niall and that's very far fetched," Harry said finally. "I need to trust him. But... if this is about his past-"

"You need answers," Niall finished for him.

Harry nodded, his jaw tightening. "Yeah. But I don't want to push him. He's already been through so much."

Niall leaned back, crossing his arms. "Oh but you've been through a lot too. Look, mate, I get it. But if he's keeping something from you, something big, you can't just sit around and wait for it to blow up in your face. You love him, right?"

"Of course I do," Harry said without hesitation.

"Then give him a chance to tell you. But don't let him dodge the conversation. You deserve to know what's going on."

Harry nodded, though his chest felt heavy with uncertainty. "I'll talk to him," He said quietly. "But... I don't know if I'm ready to hear the answer."

For a moment, the room fell into silence, both men lost in their thoughts.

Finally, Niall spoke again, his tone lighter but still serious. "Whatever's going on, Harry, you'll figure it out. You're one of the smartest detectives I know. And if Louis is half as mad about you as you are about him, he'll tell you the truth. Just... give him the space to come clean."

Harry nodded, though his mind was far from at ease. The envelope, the note, and Louis' behaviour - it all felt like pieces of a puzzle he didn't know how to solve.

He glanced at the envelope again, its ominous contents replaced by his forged substitute. His heart ached at the thought of Louis discovering what he'd done, but he pushed the guilt aside.

"I just hope," Harry said softly, "that whatever's going on... it doesn't destroy us."

An incoming messages on Harry's phone interrupted them. It was from an unknown number and attached to it was a picture. Harry furrowed his brows as he reluctantly clicked on the message.

He gasped when he saw the photo and Niall immediately took the phone from him to see for himself. Why would someone send this?

The young Louis in the image had a bright smile, wide-eyed and proud as he stood next to the older man. The resemblance between them was undeniable - the sharp jawlines, piercing blue eyes, and the same small quirk at the corner of their lips.

Niall leaned over Harry's shoulder, studying the image. "Thats - that's a picture of Louis as a kid, right? And that has to be his Dad," he said quietly, his voice laced with unease.

"Maybe," Harry murmured, his thoughts racing. He didn't want to believe it, didn't want to think Louis had been keeping something from him. But this picture? It raised questions he couldn't ignore.

"I mean, he's never mentioned his Dad, has he?" Niall asked.

"Well," Harry admitted. "Not really. He's talked about his Mum a bit, but said that his Dad was never really present."

Niall sighed, leaning back against the couch. "Could be a dead end. But... the timing of this? The envelope, the note, and now this picture? It's all too much to be a coincidence. We should dig some deeper."

Harry rubbed his hand over his face, frustration building in his chest. "It doesn't make sense, Niall. Louis has been acting so strange lately. And I don't want to think-" He stopped himself, not wanting to say it out loud.

"That he's involved somehow?" Niall finished, his tone careful but direct.

Harry winced, shaking his head. "No. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't... he wouldn't be part of something like this. I know him."

"But do you know everything about him?" Niall asked softly, and Harry hated how much the question lingered in his head.

Harry's phone pinged again, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was another message from the unknown number:

"Ask him the truth. You deserve to know who he is."

Niall's eyes widened as he read the message over Harry's shoulder. "Bloody hell. They're pushing you, mate. Someone's trying to get in your head."

Harry swallowed hard, his chest tightening. "I'll ask him," he said firmly, standing up and grabbing his jacket.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Niall asked, concern etched across his face.

"I have to know, Niall," Harry said, his voice steady but strained. "If there's something he's hiding, I need to hear it from him. I can't keep pretending everything's fine."

When Harry got back to his house, he found Louis sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in his hand and a stack of case files spread out in front of him. They did that a lot, Louis even had a key by now.

Louis looked up and smiled when Harry walked in, but his expression shifted when he saw the tension in Harry's face.

"Hey," Louis said cautiously, setting his cup down. "Everything alright?"

Harry didn't answer right away. He pulled out his phone, opened the picture, and slid it across the table toward Louis.

Louis glanced at the screen, and Harry saw the exact moment recognition flickered in his eyes. Louis's face went pale, and his hand tightened around his tea cup.

"Where did you get this?" Louis asked, his voice quiet but sharp.

"It was sent to me," Harry said evenly. "From an unknown number."

Louis stared at the picture for a long moment, his jaw tightening. Harry's heart clenched as he watched the walls go up, the way Louis's expression closed off.

"Is that your Dad?" Harry asked, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

Louis didn't respond right away. He picked up the phone, studying the image, as if stalling for time. Finally, he set it back down and looked at Harry.

"Yes," Louis said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Harry's chest tightened. "Why is someone sending me pictures of you two? Louis, what's going on?"

Louis looked away, his hand gripping the edge of the table. "It's complicated, Harry."

"Then explain it to me," Harry pressed. "I can't help you if I don't know what's happening."

"You don't understand," Louis said, his voice rising slightly. "It's not something I can just talk about. Not yet."

Harry's frustration boiled over. "Not yet? Louis, I've been patient, but I can't keep waiting for you to decide to trust me. I love you, but you're shutting me out, and I don't know what to do with that."

Louis flinched at Harry's words, guilt flashing across his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

"Just tell me the truth," Harry said, his voice breaking.

Louis looked at him, his expression torn, and for a moment, Harry thought he might finally open up. But then Louis shook his head, standing abruptly and grabbing his jacket.

"I need to go," Louis muttered, avoiding Harry's gaze.

"Louis -"

"I'll be back later," Louis said quickly, already halfway to the door.

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Harry standing alone in the kitchen, the weight of the unanswered questions suffocating him.

**

Louis

Louis left Harry's house in a blur, his mind racing and his heart pounding. The weight of the photo his father had sent to Harry pressed heavily on him. His father was playing games, testing his loyalty and Louis knew he couldn't afford to fail this test. Not when he was so close to pulling off his plan.

Still, his anger burned hot as he pulled into an empty side street. He couldn't let this go unchecked. He needed to let his father know that dragging Harry into this crossed a line, but he also had to play the part. He grabbed his phone, the number etched into his memory like a scar. With a deep breath, he dialed and brought the phone to his ear.

The voice that answered sent a shiver through him, calm yet suffocating in its familiarity. "Louis," his father said, his tone almost amused. "I wasn't sure you'd call."

"You crossed the line," Louis snapped, his anger barely masked. "That picture. You sent it to him. Why? What was the point of that?"

There was a pause, then the low chuckle that had haunted Louis for years. "Ah, so he showed you. Good. I wanted to see how much you cared, how far you'd go to protect him."

Louis gritted his teeth, forcing his voice to steady. "This isn't about him. Dragging him into this was unnecessary."

"Oh, but it is about him, Louis. You think I don't see what's happening? You're distracted. Soft. It's not a good look for someone who wants to prove their loyalty." His father's tone darkened, dripping with condescension. "I needed to remind you of where you came from. Of who you are."

Louis's hand tightened around the phone. He forced himself to take a calming breath, knowing he couldn't let his emotions show. Not here. Not now. "I'm proving myself every day," he said, his voice icy but controlled. "You gave me this mission, and I'm carrying it out. But sending that picture? That wasn't necessary."

His father hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe it wasn't. But it got your attention, didn't it? And you're still here, still playing my game. That's what matters. Don't forgot that you're no real cop,  Louis. I think you got a little bit too attached to your policeman."

Louis swallowed the bile rising in his throat. "I'll do what I have to. But don't test me like this again. You don't need to involve him. He has nothing to do with this."

His father's voice sharpened. "Everything and everyone around you has to do with this, Louis. That's the way it works. You want to lead? You want to inherit what I've built? You have to be prepared to sacrifice everything. Including him."

Louis's stomach twisted, but he forced himself to reply. "I know what it takes."

"Do you?" His father asked, his tone challenging. "Because right now, I'm not sure. You're trying, I'll give you that, but you've got a long way to go. Prove me wrong, son."

"I will," Louis said firmly, though the words felt like ash in his mouth. "I'll prove myself. You'll see."

His father's laugh was dark, unsettling. "We'll see indeed. I'll be in touch." And then the line went dead.

Louis stared at the phone in his hand, his breath shaky. He'd managed to keep his anger in check, to stay in character, but his father's words echoed in his mind, cutting deep. "You have to be prepared to sacrifice everything. Including him."

Not a chance. Louis wouldn't let it come to that. But his father was testing him, tightening the leash, and Louis knew he had to tread carefully. Every step he took now was dangerous. Every word, every action, had to be calculated.

He shoved the phone into his pocket and started the car, forcing himself to focus. His plan was still in motion, but time was running out. And as much as it pained him, Louis knew he'd have to keep Harry in the dark a little longer. If this worked, if he could pull it off, it would all be worth it.

 He just hoped he wouldn't lose Harry in the process.

Chapter Text

Harry

Louis didn't come back that night. The silence in the house was deafening, and Harry paced the living room, phone in hand, dialing Louis's number for what felt like the hundredth time. Every time, it went straight to voicemail. He tried Niall next, his voice shaky as he asked if he'd heard from Louis, but Niall's answer only deepened the pit in Harry's stomach.

"No, mate. Nothing. I tried calling him too, but it just rings out," Niall said. "Maybe he's just... caught up in something?"

Harry clenched his jaw, rubbing a hand over his face. "His phone's off, Niall. I can't - I can't locate him. I have no idea where he is."

"I'm sure there's an explanation," Niall tried, but his voice was uncertain. "He wouldn't just disappear like this. You know him."

Did he? Harry wanted to believe that. He needed to believe it. But something in his gut twisted painfully, a voice whispering darkly that there was more to Louis than he let on.

By midnight, Harry's hands were trembling. Sleep was impossible. His mind spiraled through every worst-case scenario. Louis hurt, taken, dead or worse.

Keeping secrets. Involved in something he can't tell me about.

The thought alone made Harry feel sick. He couldn't stay home anymore. He needed to move, to do something, anything, to quiet the storm raging inside him.

So he went to the hospital.

The quiet of the corridors did little to soothe him as he made his way to Gemma's room. The faint hum of machines greeted him, the steady rhythm of her heart monitor reminding him she was still alive. Still fighting.

"Hey, Gem," He murmured, pulling a chair closer to her bed. He reached out, taking her hand in his. It was warm, but limp, unresponsive. He swallowed hard. "I know you can't hear me, but I... I needed to be here. I needed to be with someone who won't look at me like I'm losing my mind."

His voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. "Louis didn't come home. I don't know where he is. I've been telling myself it's nothing, that I'm overreacting, but I don't believe that. Not really."

He paused, his eyes scanning her face as if searching for some kind of comfort in her stillness. "You'd tell me to trust him, wouldn't you? To have faith. But... I don't know if I can anymore. There's something he's not telling me, Gem. And it's killing me because I love him. I really love him. But what if I don't know him at all?"

The words hung in the air, heavy and painful. Harry leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling to keep the tears from falling.

"I'm so tired," He whispered. "Tired of losing people, of not knowing if the people I love are going to stay. I can't do it again, Gem. Not with him."

He stayed for a while longer, talking to her, even though she didn't respond. It was easier than going home to the empty house, to the silence that felt like it was suffocating him.

By the time he left, the sun was beginning to rise. Harry told himself that Louis would have a valid reason, that maybe he was planning a surprise or caught up in work. He told himself Louis would walk through the door, flashing him that crooked smile, and all of this worrying would have been for nothing.

But deep down, Harry knew he was lying to himself.

And he wasn't ready for the heartbreak that he felt sure was coming.

**

Louis

Another 24 hours passed, and the strain of it was nearly unbearable for Louis. Seven days had come and gone, seven days of carrying out his father's cruel tasks, of trying to keep his composure while the weight of what he was doing crushed him. He told himself it would end soon. It has to end soon.

Today, he had a chance, a dangerous, final chance. His father had summoned him to another location. A warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Louis didn't know what to expect, but he hoped this was it. The meeting where he could finally do what he'd been planning for years.

Kill Richard Tomlinson. End the Red Lily. Stop the nightmare once and for all.

But with that hope came a sinking feeling of dread. His mind kept flashing to Harry, alone, likely panicked, angry. Louis had abandoned him without a word, knowing full well how that would tear Harry apart. He didn't know how he could ever explain himself. And the fear that it might already be too late clawed at him.

Louis arrived at the warehouse. The air inside was stale and heavy, thick with the metallic scent of oil and faint traces of blood. He moved cautiously, his heart pounding as his boots echoed across the concrete floor.

The place seemed empty at first, but Louis knew better than to let his guard down. He kept walking, scanning every shadow, every corner, until he heard a faint sound. A muffled groan.

His stomach twisted as he followed the noise to a room tucked in the back. He stepped inside and froze.

There, tied to a chair in the middle of the room, was a woman. She was young, her face swollen and bruised, her clothes torn. Blood streaked down her arms and legs, pooling at her feet. She looked up weakly when she heard him, her eyes dull with exhaustion and pain. He was immediately brought back to the last time he has seen a scene like that. It was the same. It was unmistakably the work of his father. This was unmistakably one of the missing girls - but this time she wouldn't die.

Louis didn't hesitate. He rushed to her side, pulling out a knife to cut through the ropes binding her wrists. "It's okay," He said, his voice trembling. "I'm going to get you out of here."

The woman didn't respond, but a faint sob escaped her lips. Louis worked quickly, his hands slick with her blood as he freed her from the chair.

He pulled out his phone, ready to call for help, when a deep, familiar voice cut through the silence.

"Well, isn't this a touching scene."

Louis stiffened, his blood running cold. He turned slowly to see his father standing in the doorway, a cruel smirk on his face.

"Father," Louis said, forcing his voice to stay steady. He quickly stepped in front of the woman, shielding her with his body.

Richard raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. "What's this, Louis? Compassion? I didn't think you had it in you."

Louis clenched his fists, trying to keep his emotions in check. He had to play a role. "What's the point of this? Why bring me here? You have your men to do the dirty job, we don't cover our hands in blood."

Richard took a step forward, his gaze flicking to the woman before settling back on Louis. "This is your final test, son. You've been doing so well - following my orders, completing your tasks. But I need to know you're truly one of us."

Louis's heart sank as he realized what his father was about to say.

"Kill her."

The words hung in the air, suffocating Louis. He stared at his father, his mind racing. He couldn't do it. He wouldn't. But if he refused, he'd blow his cover, and everything he'd worked for would be for nothing.

"She's a liability," Richard continued, his tone casual, as if he were discussing the weather. "She's seen too much. Either you do it, or I'll do it myself. And then I'll start to wonder where your loyalties really lie."

Louis forced himself to meet his father's gaze, his stomach churning. This was it. The moment he'd been dreading. He had to play his part perfectly. Gain his father's trust. Get close enough to end this nightmare.

"I'll do it," Louis said, his voice cold and detached. He turned back to the woman, his hands shaking as he pulled his knife.

She looked up at him, terror filling her eyes. "Please," she whispered. "Don't."

Louis swallowed hard, his heart breaking. He leaned in close, pretending to inspect her bonds, and whispered so quietly she could barely hear him, "I'm not going to hurt you. Trust me."

Then, he stood up, turning to face his father. "I need a gun," He said. "This knife is too messy. As I said, I won't get my hands dirty. We're better than that."

Richard smiled, clearly pleased. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a sleek pistol, tossing it to Louis as if he didn't have his own with him.

Louis caught it, his mind racing. He could end this. Kill his father and save the woman.

But there were too many variables. Too many risks. He couldn't blow his cover yet.

Instead, he turned back to the woman, lifting the gun. His hands trembled as he aimed at her, his finger hovering over the trigger.

"Do it," Richard said, his voice sharp.

He stared into the terrified eyes of the woman tied to the chair. His chest tightened painfully, but he forced himself to stay calm, his father's eyes boring into him from behind.

"Do it, Louis," Richard barked, his voice cold and unyielding.

Louis inhaled sharply, trying to buy himself a few precious seconds to think. He glanced at the woman again, silently pleading with her to understand that this wasn't what it looked like, that he wasn't the monster his father thought he was.

But just as Louis steadied his hand, the sound of the warehouse door creaking open shattered the moment.

Louis froze. His stomach plummeted as he turned toward the source of the sound, and his worst nightmare unfolded before him. Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the dim light, was Harry.

Harry's green eyes locked onto Louis, and the expression on his face made Louis's heart stop. There was no mistaking it. Harry had seen everything.

The blood on Louis's hands. The woman tied to the chair. The gun in his grip.

Harry's face crumpled with disbelief and devastation. His mouth parted as if he wanted to speak but couldn't find the words. He took a shaky step forward, his eyes flickering between the woman, Louis, and the man standing behind Louis. Richard.

Louis's blood turned to ice. He realized with horrifying clarity what this was.

A setup.

His father had orchestrated this. Richard had known Harry would come. He had wanted him to see this. To see Louis like this. To ruin everything.

"Harry..." Louis's voice broke as he took a step toward him, dropping the gun at his side.

Harry's expression twisted in confusion and pain. Until he saw realisation dawning on him. "Louis...what -"

Before Harry could finish his question, one of Richard's men moved silently behind him. Louis saw the movement too late.

"Harry, watch out!" He shouted, but it was no use.

The man struck Harry hard from behind with the butt of his rifle. Harry stumbled forward, his eyes wide with shock as he crumpled to the ground.

"NO!" Louis roared, lunging forward, but Richard grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

"Careful, son," Richard said coolly, tightening his grip on Louis. "You wouldn't want to ruin all the progress you've made."

Louis turned on him, fury blazing in his eyes. "This was your plan all along, wasn't it? You wanted him here."

Richard smirked, his calm demeanor infuriating. "Of course I did. I needed to see where your loyalties truly lie. And now..." He gestured to the unconscious Harry on the floor. "I have my answer."

Louis's heart hammered in his chest as he looked down at Harry, motionless on the cold concrete.

"Take him," Richard ordered his men, nodding toward Harry. "He might come in handy later."

"No!" Louis shouted, trying to wrench himself free from his father's grip. "Don't touch him!"

But it was no use. Two of Richard's men grabbed Harry's limp body, dragging him toward the shadows.

Louis's entire body trembled with rage and fear. He turned to his father, his voice raw. "You've gone too far. If you hurt him -"

"Calm yourself, Louis," Richard interrupted, his tone mocking. "I won't kill him. Not yet, anyway. But if you want to keep him alive, I suggest you stop fighting me and do exactly as I say."

Louis stared at him, his chest heaving, the weight of his father's threat suffocating him. He looked back at the woman still tied to the chair, then at the spot where Harry had disappeared.

This was no longer just about the Red Lily. This was about saving Harry. .

Chapter Text

12h ago - Harry

Harry sat on the floor of Louis's home office, his heart racing so fast it felt like it might burst from his chest. He was surrounded by chaos. Papers, files, anything that might give him a clue about where Louis had gone. His hands trembled as he rifled through drawers and boxes, his mind spinning with questions he couldn't answer.

Where are you, Louis? Why won't you just come back?

Every second of silence felt like an eternity. He couldn't shake the growing fear in his gut that something was horribly wrong.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated on the desk, snapping him out of his spiral. Harry reached for it with a trembling hand, his chest tightening when he saw the message:

"0426"

Four digits.

It didn't make sense at first, but then his gaze darted to the corner of the room. Louis' safe.

His stomach dropped.

He stood on shaky legs, crossing the room to kneel in front of the safe. Louis had always kept it locked. He'd joked about it once, telling Harry it was "just boring paperwork." Harry had never questioned it, until now.

He punched in the code.

The lock clicked open, and Harry felt a chill creep up his spine.

The box inside looked innocuous at first glance, just an ordinary cardboard container. But when he lifted the lid, his world shattered.

Right on top were photographs. Dozens of them, scattered haphazardly as if someone had been in a rush.

The first one he picked up made his stomach lurch. A lifeless girl, her body battered and bruised. Harry flipped through them, his horror deepening with every image. They were all of the missing girls. Dead, posed, and violated.

But it didn't stop there.

Underneath those were photographs of men, well-known men, powerful men, caught in compromising positions with young women. One of them was his own father.

Harry felt like he couldn't breathe. He shoved the pictures aside, desperate to reach the bottom of the box.

Then he saw them.

Pictures of Gemma. His sister. Tied up, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear. She was alive in the photos, but barely.

Harry dropped the picture as if it had burned him.

"No..." he whispered, his voice breaking.

His hands shook violently as he dug deeper into the box, but what he found next was worse.

A picture of Louis.

Louis and his father.

They were standing side by side, and Harry instantly recognized the setting. It was one of the locations the Red Lily had been suspected of using for their operations in Germany.

Louis looked younger in the photo, maybe 18 or 19, but there was no mistaking the proud look on his face as he stared up at the man beside him.

Harry stumbled back, dropping the photo. He reached for the stack of papers beneath it, his mind reeling.

Printed chats. Conversations between Louis and his father.

His eyes scanned the words, bile rising in his throat as he read them.

Louis's messages sounded...complicit. As if he was actively working against the investigation. Against Harry.

Harry's head spun as he sifted through the papers. Then he found the last photograph.

It was grainy, but the figure in it was unmistakable.

Louis, leaving the storage room where they'd found the most recent victim. His face was clear, and his hands were bloody.

Harry dropped everything, his hands flying to his mouth as his stomach heaved. He bolted for the bathroom, barely making it before he threw up.

When he returned to the office, his legs felt like lead. He stood in the doorway, staring at the box as if it were a bomb about to go off.

This wasn't just evidence. This was a message.

He knew now that someone wanted him to find this.

His phone buzzed again, pulling him from his daze.

Another message.

Coordinates.

Harry's blood turned to ice. He stared at the numbers, his mind racing. Somehow, he already knew what he would find there.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think.

But his feet were moving before he even realized it. Grabbing his car keys, he left Louis's house without looking back.

As he drove through the empty streets, dread clawed at his chest. He didn't know what he would find at the end of this road, but he knew one thing for certain:

Louis was hiding something. And whatever it was, it was about to destroy them both.

**

Present time - Harry

Harry woke to the sharp sting of pain at the back of his skull and the taste of blood in his mouth. His head throbbed with a relentless ache, and it took him several disoriented seconds to realize he couldn't move.

He blinked through the haze clouding his vision, the dim light of the room slowly coming into focus. His arms were pinned behind him, his wrists bound tightly together with a rope. The chair beneath him creaked as he shifted, the sharp edges of it digging into his sides. He tried to move his legs, but they were tied down too, leaving him completely immobilized.

Panic surged through him, but he forced himself to take deep, shaky breaths. Think, Harry. Focus.

It was the taste of blood on his tongue that finally brought his memories rushing back. The envelope. The coordinates. The warehouse. And then - Louis.

Louis.

A fresh wave of confusion and devastation hit him like a punch to the gut. The image of Louis, standing there with blood on his hands, his face unreadable, haunted him. And then the blow to the back of his head.

Louis betrayed me.

The thought ripped through him, making his chest tighten painfully. He wanted to cry, to scream, but his throat felt like it was closing up. His mind raced with questions, each one more devastating than the last.

Was it all a lie? The love, the promises, the vulnerability. Was any of it real? Did he ever love me?

His heart shattered under the weight of his own thoughts, but he couldn't afford to break down. Not here. Not now.

He inhaled deeply, forcing the lump in his throat down. He couldn't let this be the end. He had to get out of here.

Harry's gaze darted around the room, taking in every detail he could. It was a bare, windowless space, dimly lit by a single flickering bulb overhead. The walls were lined with shelves stacked with crates and metal tools. The faint smell of gasoline hung in the air, making his stomach turn.

He tugged at the ropes binding his wrists, wincing as the coarse material bit into his skin. They were tight, painfully so, but he couldn't give up. He flexed his hands, testing the knots, trying to find even the smallest bit of slack.

His eyes darted to the door at the far end of the room. It was closed, but he could hear muffled voices on the other side. One of them was unmistakable.

Louis.

The sound of his voice sent a fresh pang of betrayal through Harry's chest. His breath hitched as the pieces started falling into place. The photograph in the safe. The chats with Louis's father. The note. The storage room.

Louis isn't on my side. He never was.

But then another thought crept in, one he couldn't ignore.

What if he is? What if he's playing a part, trying to take them down from the inside? But could he ever forgive him?

It was a desperate hope, but it was the only thing keeping him from completely unraveling.

His mind flashed to the message he'd sent Niall before leaving for the coordinates. It was vague, just a hint, a gut feeling, but he prayed it would be enough. Niall was smart, and if anyone could track him down, it was him.

Please, Niall. Don't let me down.

Harry tugged harder at the ropes, ignoring the pain as they tore into his skin. He needed to get out of here, to find answers, to figure out the truth.

Because if Louis really had betrayed him, if all of this was real...

Harry clenched his jaw, swallowing the lump in his throat. He didn't let himself finish the thought but he wouldn't have to because he slowly felt himself losing consciousness again.

**

Louis

Louis stumbled as two of his father's men dragged him roughly through the dark, damp corridor. The air was cold and heavy, smelling of rust and mildew. He could barely see where they were taking him, the flickering lights overhead doing little to illuminate the narrow underground passage. His wrists burned from the restraints, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were too focused on Harry.

He'd seen him, tied to a chair, unconscious but alive. That was the only thing keeping Louis from completely losing it.

The door ahead opened with a creak, and Louis was shoved inside. The room was small and dimly lit, with the same metallic scent in the air. And there he was. Harry.

Louis froze when his eyes landed on him, still tied to a chair just a few feet away. Blood streaked Harry's temple, and his head hung low, but his chest rose and fell steadily. Relief flooded Louis for a fleeting second before a familiar voice cut through the silence.

"Well, isn't this a touching reunion?"

Louis turned sharply to face Richard, who stood near the doorway, his face a mask of disdain. The older man's gaze was piercing, and his lips curled into a cruel smirk as he looked Louis over.

"You always were pathetic, Louis," Richard sneered, taking a step closer. "Do you really think I didn't see this coming? That I wouldn't notice you playing your little games?"

Louis forced himself to keep his composure. He couldn't afford to falter now.

"I'm loyal to you," Louis said, his voice steady despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "Everything I've done has been for you, for the Red Lily."

Richard laughed, the sound sharp and grating.

"Don't insult my intelligence, boy. I saw the way you reacted when I had him brought in," he said, gesturing toward Harry. "You're weak. Soft. Letting your emotions get in the way. Just like your mother."

The mention of his mother made Louis's blood boil, but he clenched his fists and forced himself to remain calm.

"You're wrong," Louis said, his voice tight. "I've done everything you've asked. I've proved myself time and time again."

"Proved yourself?" Richard spat, stepping closer. "You've done nothing but disappoint me. And now, because of your pathetic attempt at betrayal, you've put us all at risk."

Louis's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond. There was no point in arguing. Richard had already made up his mind.

Richard looked at him for a long moment, his gaze cold and calculating. Then, without warning, he turned and motioned to his men.

"Untie him," He said, nodding toward Louis. "Let him have a moment with his little lover. Let them say their goodbyes."

Louis's heart sank at the words. He knew exactly what they meant.

"No," He said, stepping forward. "You don't have to do this. I can fix this. I can -"

"Enough," Richard snapped, cutting him off. "I've already made my decision. Consider this mercy, Louis. I'm giving you time to say goodbye. Most people don't even get that."

With that, he turned and walked out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

Louis stood frozen for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. Then he turned to Harry, who was beginning to stir.

"Harry," he said softly, his voice breaking. He dropped to his knees in front of him, his hands trembling as he reached for him.

Harry blinked slowly, his eyes focusing on Louis. For a moment, there was confusion. Then recognition. And finally, devastation.

"Louis," Harry whispered, his voice hoarse.

Louis swallowed hard, his chest aching at the sight of him.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this."

Harry stared at him, his expression a mixture of heartbreak and anger.

"Why?" he asked, his voice cracking. "Why, Louis? Were you - were you working with them this whole time?"

Louis shook his head frantically, his hands gripping Harry's tightly.

"No. No, Harry, I swear," he said, his voice desperate. "I've been trying to take them down. I've been trying to end this. But my father, he knew. He knew, and now -"

He couldn't finish the sentence. The weight of what was about to happen was too much.

Harry looked at him, his eyes searching Louis's face for answers.

"Did you ever love me?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

Louis felt like the air had been knocked out of him.

"More than anything," He said, his voice trembling. "Harry, I love you more than anything. That's why I did all of this. For you. To protect you."

Tears welled in Harry's eyes, but he didn't respond.

Louis reached up, gently cupping Harry's face.

"I'm going to get us out of this," He said, his voice firm despite the fear in his eyes. "I promise you, Harry. I won't let him hurt you."

But even as he said the words, he knew how impossible they were. Because Richard didn't make empty threats. And Louis didn't have a plan.

**

Harry

Harry's eyes stayed locked on Louis, searching for truth in every word, though his expression was unreadable. He wanted to scream, to cry, to demand answers, but instead, he remained quiet. He let Louis speak, desperate to piece together the puzzle that had shattered his heart.

Louis's voice was low and rough, burdened with years of secrets. "I never lied about the Red Lily, Harry. That was always real. My knowledge of it, my connection to him, was real. I just... I never told you the whole story."

Harry's hands flexed against the restraints as his jaw tightened, but he kept his silence.

Louis took a deep breath, glancing away for a moment before forcing himself to meet Harry's gaze. "I'm not a cop. I never was. I faked it. Every badge, every case, every report, it was all a cover."

Harry's stomach twisted, but he still didn't speak.

"My father... Richard," Louis said, his voice catching on the name, "he killed my mum when I was just a kid. She didn't die from cancer and I don't have any sisters. I didn't see it happen, but I heard it. I heard her screams." His voice broke, and he paused, his hands trembling at his sides.

Harry's throat tightened as he watched the raw pain flash across Louis's face.

"I ran away after that. Lived with foster families for a while. But even as a kid, I knew I had to stop him. I couldn't let him do to anyone else what he did to her. So when I was old enough, I started digging. Learning. Building a plan."

Louis's eyes grew distant as he continued. "I moved to Germany when I was twenty. I didn't work for the police there either. That was another lie I told. I met Zayn there, that's true. I spent years building a network, trying to figure out how to take him down. But he's smart. He's always a step ahead. The Red Lily isn't just a gang, it's an empire. And he's untouchable at the top of it."

Harry finally found his voice, though it was barely a whisper. "So why the police? Why come back here and fake being a cop?"

Louis met Harry's gaze again, his expression heavy with guilt. "Because the only way to get close to him was to make him think I was working against the police. I needed him to trust me. To think I was like him. And the best way to do that was to infiltrate the people who were after him. I was just playing pretend."

Harry's stomach twisted again, anger bubbling beneath the surface. "So I was part of the plan, wasn't I?" He asked, his voice sharp. "You just used me to get what you wanted."

Louis's face crumpled, and he shook his head. "No, Harry. Not like that. Not after... not after I got to know you. At first, yeah, I won't lie. You were part of the plan, you weren't supposed to mean anything. But then.." He broke off, his voice trembling. "Then you became everything."

Harry stared at him, his chest aching with a mixture of betrayal and longing.

"I fell in love with you," Louis said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to. It wasn't supposed to happen. But I did. And that's why this is all so fucked up. Because everything I've done, everything I've tried to do, it was supposed to protect you. To protect us. And I completely messed up in the progress. Everything I planned on doing was out the window the moment I first laid eyes on you. From there on I knew I couldn't go through with it. So I made mistakes. I couldn't think clearly, I sent false signals."

Harry shook his head, his voice breaking as he spoke. "You lied to me, Louis. About everything. How am I supposed to believe anything you're saying now?"

Louis's eyes filled with tears, but he didn't look away. "I don't know," He admitted. "I don't know how to make you believe me. But I swear to you, Harry, I've never loved anyone the way I love you. And if I could go back and change things, if I could tell you the truth from the start, I would."

Harry's chest tightened, his emotions a chaotic swirl of anger, heartbreak, and something else he couldn't quite name.

"And now?" Harry asked, his voice hard. "What happens now?"

Louis hesitated, his jaw clenching as he glanced toward the door. "Now, we survive," He said. "We get out of here. And then I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm not the monster he wants you to think I am."

Before Harry could respond, the door creaked open, and a shadow appeared in the doorway.

Louis quickly moved in front of Harry, shielding him instinctively as they   both prepared for whatever was coming next.

Chapter Text

Louis

Richard's laughter echoed coldly as Louis stood frozen, his eyes darting between his father and Harry. "What a touching confession, truly," Richard mocked, his voice dripping with cruelty. "But, Louis, you've just sealed your fate. And his."

Louis's chest heaved as he tried to think of something, anything, that could save them both. But before he could act, two of Richard's men grabbed him by the arms and began dragging him toward the door.

"Louis!" Harry cried, his voice breaking, tears streaming down his face. "No! I love you!"

Louis turned his head as much as he could, locking eyes with Harry. The raw desperation in Harry's voice ripped through him, but in that moment, it was enough. Those three words - I love you - were enough. He let them anchor him, strengthen him, even as he was hauled away.

"Goodbye, Harry," He whispered, more to himself than anyone else. If this was the end, he could die knowing that Harry still loved him.

The door slammed shut behind him, and Richard shoved his hands into his pockets, smirking. "You always were a disappointment, Louis. Too soft. Too sentimental. And now, look at where it's gotten you."

Louis didn't respond, his mind already racing for a plan, but before he could act, chaos erupted.

Gunshots shattered the air, reverberating through the underground structure. Shouting and screaming came from every direction, followed by the heavy thud of footsteps. Richard whipped his head toward the noise, barking orders to his men, who scattered in disarray.

In the confusion, Richard's grip on Louis slackened. Louis yanked himself free and bolted, ducking behind a stack of crates as bullets ricocheted off the walls around him. He spotted one of the guards' weapons lying on the floor and dove for it, his heart pounding in his chest.

The gun felt heavy in his hands, but he steadied himself, peering out from his cover to assess the chaos. Smoke and dust filled the air as figures moved frantically in the dim light. Louis didn't know who was attacking or why, but he didn't care. He had one goal: Harry.

He darted through the maze of the underground, weaving between crates and broken furniture, his eyes scanning desperately for the room where Harry had been tied up. His ears rang with the cacophony of shouts and gunfire, but he kept moving, adrenaline driving him forward.

Finally, he found the room. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, he saw Harry, still tied to the chair, his head hanging low, his body limp.

"Harry!" Louis called out, rushing toward him.

Harry's head snapped up at the sound of Louis's voice, his eyes wide with relief and disbelief. "Louis!"

Louis dropped the gun and fell to his knees in front of Harry, his hands trembling as he worked to untie the ropes binding him. "I've got you," Louis whispered, his voice shaking. "I've got you."

Harry winced as the ropes loosened, his wrists raw and bloody from struggling. "Louis, we have to-"

A gunshot cracked through the air, startling them both. Louis spun around to see one of Richard's men aiming a pistol directly at them. Without thinking, Louis grabbed the gun he'd dropped earlier and fired.

The man crumpled to the ground, and Louis stood there, breathing heavily, the gun still raised.

Harry reached out, his hand trembling as he touched Louis's arm. "Louis, we have to get out of here."

Louis nodded, pulling Harry to his feet. Together, they stumbled out of the room, sticking close to the walls as they navigated the chaos. The gunfire and shouting were beginning to fade, and Louis guessed that whoever had attacked was gaining the upper hand.

But they weren't safe yet. Not until they were far away from Richard and his men.

As they reached the exit, Louis glanced back one last time, his jaw tightening. This wasn't over. Not yet. Richard had to be stopped, for good.

But right now, all that mattered was Harry.

**

Louis' heart pounded as they stepped outside and saw the flashing lights of police cars lining the perimeter. For the first time in days, a sliver of hope flickered inside him. Help had arrived. They weren't alone anymore.

Harry exhaled shakily, his legs nearly buckling from exhaustion. "Niall... He must've found us," He muttered, his voice weak.

Louis glanced at him, guilt pooling in his chest. He could see the anger and confusion brewing behind Harry's exhausted eyes. He knew Harry would hate him for what he was about to do, but he didn't have a choice. Harry had been through enough. Louis couldn't drag him further into this nightmare.

"Come on," Louis said softly, helping Harry stumble toward one of the abandoned cars in the clearing.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, suspicion lacing his voice as they reached the vehicle.

Louis didn't respond right away. Instead, he opened the driver's side door and guided Harry into the seat.

"Louis," Harry said again, this time more forcefully, his tone edged with unease.

Louis stepped back, holding Harry's gaze. "I'm sorry, Harry," He said quietly. Before Harry could react, Louis pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, snapped one cuff around Harry's wrist, and locked the other to the steering wheel.

"Louis!" Harry shouted, yanking at the restraint. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I can't let you go back in there," Louis said firmly, his voice trembling but resolute. "It's too dangerous. You've been through enough already."

Harry's face contorted with anger and disbelief. "You think this is the way to protect me? By locking me in a car like a prisoner?"

Louis stepped closer, leaning down so their faces were level. "I'm sorry, love," He whispered, his voice breaking. "But I need to end this. I need to end him. And I can't do that if I'm worried about keeping you safe."

Harry's protests grew louder, but Louis turned and ran before he could let himself falter. He ignored the ache in his chest as Harry's voice faded behind him. He had to focus.

The chaos inside was beginning to die down, but the tension in the air was still suffocating. Louis navigated the labyrinth of the underground complex, his gun drawn, his senses heightened. Every corner he turned, every shadow he passed, brought him closer to his goal.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he finally spotted a familiar figure.

"Niall!" Louis called out in relief.

Niall turned, his face smeared with dirt and blood but alive and alert. "Louis, thank God. I've been looking for you."

"Are the officers clearing the area?" Louis asked, his voice urgent.

Niall nodded. "Most of Richard's men are either down or captured. But we haven't found Richard yet."

Louis's jaw tightened. "I have to find him. This ends tonight."

Niall hesitated, studying Louis's expression. Then he gave a curt nod. "I'm with you."

They moved together, their steps quick and purposeful. And then, finally, they found him.

Richard stood in the center of a dimly lit room, his back to them. He turned slowly when he heard their footsteps, a cold smile spreading across his face.

"Well, well," Richard drawled, his tone mocking. "The prodigal son returns."

Louis raised his gun, his hand steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "It's over, Richard."

"Over?" Richard chuckled darkly, spreading his arms. "It's far from over, son. You think killing me will fix everything? You think you'll walk away from this clean?"

Louis's grip on the gun tightened. "I'm not walking away. But I'm not letting you hurt anyone else."

The confrontation was brutal. Richard taunted Louis, circling him like a predator, trying to worm his way into Louis's mind. The two exchanged gunfire, the room erupting with the deafening sound of shots and the acrid smell of gunpowder. Niall provided backup, taking out a few stragglers who attempted to intervene, but this fight was between Louis and Richard.

The battle reached its peak when Richard lunged at Louis, knocking the gun from his hand. The two men grappled, their movements desperate and messy. Louis could feel the weight of all his years of pain, all his unresolved anger, driving his every punch and kick.

Finally, Louis managed to break free, grabbing the gun from the floor. He pointed it at Richard, his hands shaking but his aim unwavering.

Richard smirked, even in his defeat. "Go ahead, Louis. Do it. Prove to me that you're not the weak, spineless child I always thought you were."

Louis hesitated for a fraction of a second, his mind flashing with memories of his mother, of Harry, of everything he'd lost because of this man. And then he pulled the trigger.

The sound of the shot echoed through the room, and Richard staggered, his expression frozen in shock. He crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Louis stood there, his chest heaving, the gun still in his hand.

Niall stepped forward cautiously, placing a hand on Louis's shoulder. "It's over," Niall said quietly.

Louis nodded, his eyes never leaving his father's body. "It's over," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

But as he stood there, he knew that the real battle, the one to repair. Everything Richard had broken, was just beginning.

Chapter Text

Louis stood over his father's lifeless body, the world around him a blur of noise and chaos. Niall's voice cut through faintly in the background, barking orders to the officers still securing the area. But Louis couldn't focus on any of it. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, the weight of what he had done, what he had to do, settling heavily on his shoulders.

And then, through the haze of shock and exhaustion, he heard his name.

"Louis."

He turned sharply, his heart clenching at the sight of Harry standing in the doorway. Somehow, Harry had gotten free. His curls were disheveled, his shirt streaked with dirt and blood, but his eyes - those familiar green eyes - held a mix of relief and devastation.

They locked eyes, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The chaos of the scene seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of them.

"It's over," Harry said softly, his voice trembling with emotion.

Louis swallowed hard, nodding faintly. "It's over."

Harry stepped closer, his gaze flicking to Richard's body before settling back on Louis.

Louis wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe that this nightmare was truly over, that they could walk away from this and start over. But he knew there was still work to be done.

"I'll end it all," Louis said quietly, his voice resolute. "The Red Lily... everything. It's mine now, whether I want it or not. But I'll make sure it's gone for good."

Harry looked at him, his eyes glistening as he nodded.

Before Louis could respond, more officers flooded the scene, along with medical staff and additional backup. The air was thick with tension and activity as the cleanup began. Niall approached them, his expression grim but relieved.

"Let's get out of here," Niall said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

The next few hours were a blur. They were escorted to the hospital for a mandatory check-up, and despite his protests, Louis allowed the medics to patch him up.

When they arrived at the hospital, Anne was already there, having been informed by the police. Her face was pale, her hands trembling as she embraced Harry tightly.

"Oh, my baby," Anne whispered, holding him like she was afraid to let go. She turned to Louis, her expression a mix of gratitude and concern. "Thank you," She said softly, her voice breaking.

Louis nodded, unable to find the words to respond.

In the corner of the waiting room, Desmond sat quietly, his face grim. He didn't say a word to Louis or Harry, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. His presence was a reminder of how far this nightmare extended, how deeply the Red Lily's corruption had spread.

As the hours dragged on, Louis and Harry stayed side by side, their fingers brushing occasionally but never fully intertwining. They didn't need to speak to know what the other was thinking.

There was still so much to sort out, statements to give, evidence to process, and loose ends to tie up. But for the first time in what felt like forever, Louis had hope.

They had survived.

And now, together, they would figure out how to rebuild their lives.

Or so Louis thought.

**

Louis

Louis sat in the cold, sterile interrogation room, his wrists aching from the handcuffs they had only just removed. His mind was racing, struggling to piece together what had just happened. One moment, he thought he and Harry would finally go home, finally talk, finally breathe. And then - arrested.

By Harry.

Louis clenched his fists, trying to shake off the bitter sting of betrayal. He knew it wasn't really betrayal, not in the way it felt, but it still hurt. But then he remebered how Harry must feel. The way Harry had looked at him, emotionless, distant, as if he was just another suspect. As if everything they had been through didn't matter. And Louis couldn't even blame him.

But it did matter. It had to.

Louis exhaled sharply, his body aching now that the adrenaline had faded. He pressed his hands against his face, elbows resting on the cold metal table. He could still hear the echo of Harry's voice in his head. It's protocol.

Bullshit.

There was more to it. There had to be. Harry had turned away so quickly, hadn't looked him in the eye after saying those words. That wasn't just protocol. That was something else.

The door creaked open, and Louis sat up, half-expecting Harry to walk in. Instead, it was Niall.

"Hey," Niall said, voice calm, almost reassuring. He pulled out the chair across from Louis and sat down, hands folded on the table. "Before you say anything, yeah, this is a mess, but we're gonna sort it out."

Louis searched Niall's face, looking for any sign of judgment, of doubt. He found none.

"You're taking my side?" Louis asked, voice hoarse.

Niall huffed a quiet laugh. "I'm taking the side of the truth, mate. And right now, there's a lot of shit to untangle. Harry... he's just doing what he thinks he has to do. He's emotional. Confused. But so are you. But don't get me wrong, I would love nothing more than to beat your sorry ass right now, and that's the friend in me speaking, not the detective."

Louis looked away, jaw clenched but he got it an he was glad that Niall was still protective over Harry of course. "I didn't expect him to just- " He exhaled sharply. "I don't know what I expected."

"He found that safe, Louis," Niall said carefully.

Louis stiffened. His stomach dropped.

"He saw everything," Niall continued. "The pictures. The letters. The evidence that made it look like you were playing both sides. How do you think he found you?"

Louis's mind reeled. Of course. The safe. The message that led Harry there. It had been a setup from the start. Richard's final move.

"He thought I was working for my father," Louis murmured, realization sinking in like a stone in his chest.

Niall nodded. "He doesn't know what to think. And after everything, can you blame him?"

Louis felt something sharp in his throat, like he might choke on the words he wanted to say. He wanted to be angry, but more than that, he wanted to fix this.

"I explained everything. I thought he understood." Louis said.

"You need to give him time, don't you think that wasn't a lot to take in for him? But you'll get your chance to talk to him again," Niall assured him. "But first, we have to get through this. You're not actually being charged with anything, but we have to follow procedure. Harry, he's not out to ruin you, Louis. He's just... lost right now."

Louis let out a shaky breath, nodding.

And so he waited.

**

Harry

The room was colder than he remembered. Or maybe it was just him.

His eyes landed on Louis, sitting at the metal table, wrists free but shoulders tense, exhaustion weighing him down.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched, heavy, suffocating.

Then Harry pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down, reaching into his pocket for his notepad. His hands were steady, his face unreadable. He knew he had to do this by the book. If he let his emotions take over, he'd break completely.

"You have the right to remain silent- "

Louis scoffed, cutting him off. "Harry, you don't have to do this." His voice was raw, his blue eyes piercing through him.

Harry ignored the interruption. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of-"

"Seriously?" Louis exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You're really gonna sit there and pretend I'm just another suspect?"

Harry's jaw clenched. "You are a suspect, Louis."

Louis let out a humorless laugh. "No, I'm not, and you know that. You know the truth. So tell me- why did you do it? Why arrest me? After everything I told you, after everything we've been through, you still-"

"Because you lied, Louis!" Harry snapped, slamming the notepad on the table. His breath was unsteady, his pulse racing. "Again."

Louis flinched but held his ground. "I told you the truth when it mattered."

"When it mattered?" Harry let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. "You built our entire relationship on a lie. All of it. Every moment. Every touch. Every 'I love you.' I don't even know what was real anymore."

Louis swallowed hard. "I love you," he whispered, voice desperate. "That was real. That was always real. I told you that. I told you why I did it. I - I thought you understood. I know you're hurt, god Harry, I know how much I've hurt you and I know there's possibly nothing I can do to fix that. But I thought, I mean after the hospital. You - I thought we had a chance."

Harry looked away, pressing his tongue against his teeth to keep himself together. He couldn't let himself believe Louis right now. No matter how much he wanted and how much he did. It would only hurt more.

"You know we already found proof that you were - somehow and in the most stupid way - working against your father," Harry said, forcing his voice to stay even. "We know you were trying to take him down. We're not pressing charges and thanks to my father, you're also cleared of the falsification of documents and false pretenses. You're free to go. Oh, and if you haven't figured it out already, you're also not part of this team anymore, Detective. Leave the rest to us."

Louis blinked, clearly thrown off by the words. "Then why-"

"Because this isn't about the case anymore," Harry cut in, his voice cracking slightly. "It's about us. And what you did to us."

Louis stared at him, silent, waiting.

Harry took a shaky breath. "I can't be with you anymore."

The words tasted like poison on his tongue. Saying them out loud made them real. Made them irreversible.

Louis's face crumpled for the first time since Harry walked in. His voice was barely above a whisper when he said, "But you said you'd never leave me."

Harry's throat tightened. His vision blurred. He forced himself to meet Louis's eyes.

"And you said you'd never lie to me."

Louis inhaled sharply, as if the words had physically hit him. His lips parted slightly, but he hesitated, like he was searching for something, anything to say that would make Harry stay.

Then his expression changed, just slightly, something dark flickering behind his tired eyes. "But you did," Louis said.

Harry felt the breath knock out of his chest.

"And so did you."

The weight of those words pressed down on both of them. There was nothing left to say.

Harry stood up. His chair scraped against the floor, the sound sharp in the silence. He turned, walking toward the door.

He hesitated, his hand on the handle, but he didn't look back. He couldn't.

Then he walked out, as heartbroken as Louis was. Probably even more.

He doesn't know anything anymore.

The case, Harry would leave the rest to Niall. He needed a break. He knew Niall was more than capable of handling that. He also still had Louis to help them sort the rest out. To help bring the rest of the Red Lily down and to help finding the last missing girl - hopefully alive. Harry didn't care much anymore and that thought scared him.

**

The door shut behind him with a quiet click, but the sound echoed through the hollow emptiness of the house. Harry stood there, frozen, his fingers still curled around the handle as if letting go would send him spiraling. His breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, his heart pounding in his ears.

The house was silent. Too silent.

His gaze swept over the living room, and suddenly, the weight of everything collapsed onto him like a landslide.

Louis' coat was still draped over the chair, exactly where he had tossed it the last time he was here. A pair of his shoes, muddy from the rain, sat messily by the door, one upright, the other on its side, just like always. There was a half-empty mug on the coffee table, tea long gone cold, a book with a cracked spine left open on the couch where Louis had been reading just days ago. It was as if he had just stepped out for a moment and would be back any second now.

But he wouldn't.

Harry's knees buckled, and he barely made it to the couch before his legs gave out completely. His chest ached, a deep, crushing pain that he couldn't breathe through. He pressed a hand over his heart, but it did nothing to stop the feeling that it was splitting open, bleeding out into the quiet of the room.

A choked, broken sob tore from his throat.

He had arrested Louis. He had looked him in the eye, told him he couldn't be with him, and then walked away. And now, here he was - alone, drowning in the ghost of what they used to be.

He clutched the blanket still draped over the couch, pulling it close as if it could somehow hold him together. It smelled like Louis - faint traces of his cologne, his shampoo, the warmth of his skin. Harry buried his face in it, his shoulders shaking as another sob ripped through him.

How had it come to this?

Louis had lied. About everything. About who he was. About why he was here. About what they were. And yet - Harry still loved him so fucking much.

That was the cruelest part of it all.

Even after everything, after the betrayal, the heartbreak, the deception - Harry still loved him so much it physically hurt. He wanted to hate him, to erase the love from his bones, to forget the way Louis' voice sounded when he whispered his name in the dark. But he couldn't.

He gasped for air, gripping the blanket like it was the only thing anchoring him. His tears soaked into the fabric, his breath uneven, shaky.

The realization sank in, cold and sharp.

They're over now.

And Harry had never felt so fucking alone.

Chapter Text

Louis

Louis sat on the couch, staring blankly at the box of his things that Niall had just set down in front of him. It felt like a punch to the gut. His clothes, a toothbrush, a book he had been reading at Harry's, one of Harry's hoodies that Louis had stolen so many times. Now all dumped back into his hands like discarded memories. Like an ending.

He swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, refusing to let the sting in his eyes turn into actual tears. But fuck, it hurt.

Niall sighed, sitting down across from him. "Harry's a mess, you know," He said, his voice softer than Louis expected. "He's barely sleeping, barely eating. And yeah, he's furious at you, but mostly, he's just... lost."

Louis let out a bitter laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. "Yeah, well, at least we have that in common."

Niall shook his head. "Look, I'm pissed at you too. You lied to all of us, Louis. You put us all in a position where we didn't know if we could trust you. And you broke Harry's heart in the worst way possible."

Louis flinched, but Niall wasn't done.

"But," He continued, "I also know you love him. And despite everything, I'm sure he still loves you too."

Louis lifted his head, eyes filled with doubt. "Then why did he send you with my things?" His voice cracked on the last word, and he hated how weak he sounded.

"Because he doesn't know what to do," Niall said simply. "He's angry, and he's hurt, and he doesn't trust you right now. But if he truly wanted nothing to do with you, he would've done more than just shut you out. He's trying to push you away, but I don't think he actually wants you to stay away."

Louis exhaled shakily. "What do I do?"

"You take it slow," Niall said. "Give him time, but don't give up. Show him you're not the man he thinks you are right now. That he can trust you again. That everything you said about loving him wasn't a lie."

Louis ran a hand through his hair, nodding slowly. He would do anything to fix this. To fix them. Even if it took time. Even if Harry wasn't ready yet.

Because losing Harry for good wasn't an option.

**

Harry

Harry hadn't seen Louis for over a week. It hurt in a way he hadn't expected, a deep, hollow ache that sat in his chest like a weight he couldn't shake.

The bar was buzzing with life, laughter, and music, but none of it reached him. He stirred his untouched drink with the tiny umbrella Liam had so enthusiastically placed in it, his expression blank, eyes distant.

"Mate, at least pretend you're having a good time," Niall said, nudging him with his shoulder. "You look like you're at a funeral."

Harry scoffed. "Might as well be."

Liam rolled his eyes. "Alright, that's enough. Here, this one has three kinds of fruit in it. You love fruit." He pushed a brightly colored drink toward Harry with an exaggerated smile. "Come on, at least try it."

Harry barely glanced at it. "Not in the mood."

"You're not in the mood for fruit? Okay, you are actually depressed." Liam said, sitting back.

Niall sighed, shaking his head. "Look, no one's saying you have to forgive him overnight, but you can't just sit in your house forever, Harry."

Harry clenched his jaw. "I can, actually."

"Right. And you will," Niall shot back. "But for now, you're here, and you're going to suffer through some social interaction whether you like it or not."

Harry didn't answer. He just looked down at his drink, mind far away. He missed Louis so much it physically hurt. And yet, every time he thought about seeing him, about facing him, the betrayal came flooding back. He didn't know what to do with that.

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "I don't want to talk about him."

"Fine," Niall said. "We won't."

But the thing was, Louis was all Harry could think about. The space beside him felt empty without him. Every memory of them together played on a loop in his head. Louis' smile, the way he used to look at him, the warmth of his touch. But alongside those moments were the lies, the secrets, the reality that their entire relationship had been built on something false.

Harry swallowed, feeling the sting in his eyes. He refused to cry. Not here. Not over Louis.

But god, he missed him.

And suddenly, like some cruel joke of the universe the door to the bar opened.

And in the moment Louis stepped into the bar, Harry felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. It was ruthless, really, how just the sight of him could send his heart spiraling into chaos. Louis walked in beside Zayn, looking unfairly good in a fitted black shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the tattoos Harry knew like the back of his hand. His hair was slightly tousled, his sharp blue eyes scanning the room.

He had spent the last week trying to convince himself that he didn't need Louis, that he was fine without him, that the betrayal was too deep to forgive. But now, with Louis standing there, Harry realized that he had been lying to himself all along.

His grip tightened around the ridiculous pink cocktail Liam had forced into his hand. His stomach twisted painfully.

Louis looked... different. Tired, maybe. Haunted. His usual confidence was muted, his shoulders tense as his eyes found Harry's across the bar. And just like that, everything shifted.

For a moment, neither of them moved. They just stared.

It was like the first time all over again. That same pull, that same undeniable connection. But now, there was a wall between them. Built from lies, heartbreak, and unspoken words.

Zayn walked ahead, immediately leaning in to kiss Liam hello. Oh. Right. They're a real thing now. Harry should be happy for them. He was happy for them. But watching them made his chest feel even heavier, because he didn't have his love anymore.

Louis lingered for a second before stepping forward, taking - because somehow Zayn didn't took it - the empty seat next to him.

So near, yet so far.

Niall groaned beside him, rubbing a hand down his face. "Well, this is fucking awkward."

Liam, ever the optimist, perked up. "Or romantic?"

Harry barely heard them. His heart was pounding in his chest, torn between wanting to run to Louis and wanting to run away entirely.

Harry sucked in a breath. His body betrayed him, tensing as if it wanted to move toward him, to close the distance. But his mind screamed at him to stay put. To remember the lies, the pain.

He swallowed thickly, his emotions a tangled mess.

Louis exhaled sharply. He didn't say anything, but Harry could feel his gaze burning into the side of his face. He refused to look at him.

Liam, still desperately trying to keep things light, waved at them. "Alright, that's it. Another round, on me."

"Great," Niall muttered, clearly exhausted by the situation. "Maybe by drink three, this won't be so painful."

Harry gritted his teeth. His entire body was tense, his hands clenched around the edge of the bar.

Louis finally broke the silence between them. His voice was quiet but steady. "Harry."

Harry inhaled sharply through his nose. He didn't look at him. Didn't trust himself to. "Don't."

Louis swallowed. Harry could hear it. Could feel the weight of what Louis wanted to say.

Niall sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well. This is fun."

"Yeah, mate," Zayn deadpanned. "Loving the energy here."

But no one laughed.

Louis was still staring at Harry. Harry was still avoiding looking at him. And every single one of them knew that everything that had shattered between them wasn't going to be fixed over a few drinks at a bar.

Still, for the first time in a week, they were breathing the same air. Sitting in the same space.

And even though it hurt like hell, Harry didn't move away.

It was bound to boil over.

The night dragged on, the weight between them growing heavier with every unspoken word, every lingering glance that neither of them dared to hold for too long.

Liam and Zayn were wrapped up in their own world, laughing at some inside joke, their fingers casually intertwined on the bar top. Niall was talking to someone he knew across the room, only half paying attention to the awkward mess happening beside him.

And Louis. Louis was nursing his whatever beer, staring at the bottle like it held all the answers to the universe.

Harry, meanwhile, was pretending to be fascinated by the tiny umbrella in his mocktail, twirling it between his fingers to keep himself occupied. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

Then, just as he was contemplating making an excuse to leave, Louis finally spoke.

"This is ridiculous."

The words were quiet but cut through the low hum of conversation like a blade.

Harry's fingers stilled around the tiny umbrella. He swallowed before looking up, finally meeting Louis' gaze. "What is?"

Louis exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "This. Us. Sitting here like strangers."

"We are strangers," Harry shot back, voice a little sharper than he intended. "Turns out I didn't know you at all."

Louis flinched.

That should have satisfied Harry. But it didn't. It only made his chest ache more.

"Harry-"

"No," Harry interrupted, shaking his head. He put his glass down with a little too much force, the ice clinking against the sides. "Don't. I don't - I can't do this right now."

Louis pressed his lips together, grip tightening around his bottle. His knuckles were white.

Liam and Zayn had gone quiet. Even Niall, who had just returned, took one look at the tension crackling between them and decided to stay silent.

For a moment, Harry thought that was it. That Louis would let it go, and they'd go back to pretending everything was fine.

But then Louis leaned in, just slightly. Just enough for only Harry to hear.

"You still love me."

Harry's breath hitched.

His first instinct was to deny it. To laugh, to scoff, to tell Louis he was a fool for thinking that after everything.

But the words got stuck in his throat.

Because Louis was right.

And that... that made him furious.

So he did the only thing he could. He stood up abruptly, the stool scraping against the floor.

"I'm leaving."

Louis stared at him, something desperate flashing in his eyes. "Harry-"

"No," Harry cut in, voice strained. "Not tonight, Louis."

And before Louis could say anything else, before Harry could do something foolish like reach for him, he turned and walked out of the bar.

Leaving Louis behind.

Chapter Text

Louis

Louis hesitated. The shock of Harry's outburst still rang in his ears, and the way Harry stormed out left the entire table in stunned silence. Even Zayn, who usually had something smug to say, stayed quiet. Louis swallowed. His heart was hammering against his ribs.

"Go after him," Niall finally said, voice softer than expected.

Louis didn't need to be told twice. He pushed himself off the barstool and headed for the door.

Outside, the cool night air hit him instantly, sobering him up from the slight buzz of his three beers. He looked around, scanning the street. Nothing.

Then he saw him. A familiar silhouette, shoulders tense, walking fast, like he was trying to outrun something, maybe his own emotions - maybe Louis.

Louis started walking, then jogging to catch up.

"Harry!" he called out.

Harry didn't stop.

Louis sighed and picked up the pace. "For fuck's sake, can you just-" He reached out, grabbing Harry's wrist.

Harry flinched and immediately yanked his arm away. "Don't." His voice was hoarse, quiet, yet firm.

Louis exhaled sharply, stepping back, giving him space. "Okay," he said, raising his hands in surrender. "Just... can we talk?"

Harry let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Talk? Now you want to talk?" He turned, eyes full of something Louis couldn't quite place. Anger, hurt, exhaustion. All of it. "Where was all this talking when you were lying to me? When you were sneaking around, playing both sides?"

Louis clenched his jaw. "I told you everything-"

"Too late," Harry cut in. His voice cracked, and that hurt more than anything. "You told me when you had no other choice. You didn't trust me, Louis. How the fuck do you expect me to trust you now?"

Louis rubbed a hand over his face. "I wanted to protect you," he muttered.

"Bullshit," Harry spat. "You don't get to decide what protects me, Louis. You don't get to control what I know." His breath hitched as he took a shaky step back. "You think it didn't break me? Knowing you were working with us while lying straight to my face? I would've fought for you, I would've helped you-" His voice cracked again, and he turned his head away, blinking rapidly.

Louis felt his own throat tighten. He had expected this, Harry was right to be angry. But knowing that didn't make it any easier.

"I love you," Louis said, voice barely above a whisper.

Harry let out a shaky breath, looking away. "Don't."

"I do," Louis insisted, stepping closer. "I never meant to hurt you."

Harry finally looked at him, green eyes burning with emotion. "Yeah?" he challenged. "Then why does it still hurt like hell?"

Louis had no answer for that. Because no matter what he said, it wouldn't change the fact that he did hurt Harry.

A heavy silence stretched between them.

Harry sniffed, shaking his head. "I can't do this right now," He muttered, turning away.

Louis' stomach dropped. "Harry please."

"Just... don't follow me," Harry said, voice barely above a whisper, before walking away into the night.

And this time, Louis didn't chase him.

**

One week later - Harry

Harry leaned against the railing of Zayn's balcony, a beer in his hand, while Zayn stood beside him, cigarette tucked between his fingers. They had both been avoiding this talk for too long.

"I didn't see her," Harry finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "That night. I swear to God, I didn't see her."

Zayn exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening as he stared at the skyline. Knowing exactly what Harry meant. "I know," He admitted after a long pause. "Doesn't mean it didn't wreck me, though."

Harry turned to look at him, guilt weighing heavy on his chest. "I replay it over and over in my head. The way everything happened so fast. I pulled the trigger because I thought I had no choice. And then-" His voice broke slightly. "Then she was there."

Zayn flicked the ash off his cigarette, shaking his head. "You don't have to explain, mate. I just.." He sighed, dragging a hand over his face. "I was so angry. I needed someone to blame. And you were right there."

"I deserved it," Harry admitted.

Zayn scoffed. "No, you didn't." He turned to face Harry properly. "I know you, man. I know you would've given anything to change what happened. But at the time, I couldn't see past my grief. I lost her, and all I could think about was how you pulled the trigger."

Harry swallowed hard, nodding. "I get it."

Zayn studied him for a moment before shaking his head with a sad chuckle. "I was a proper dick to you."

Harry let out a dry laugh. "You really were. But I get it."

Another beat of silence stretched between them before Zayn sighed. "I'm sorry."

Harry turned to him, offering a small, genuine smile. "Me too."

Zayn smirked slightly, nudging Harry's shoulder. "So, does this mean I can come over and steal food from your fridge?"

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Only if you buy decent beer next time."

Zayn clinked his bottle against Harry's. "Deal."

And just like that, the weight between them lifted. 

**

Louis

Niall sighed as he opened the door, rubbing a hand over his face. "I swear to God, if you two keep using me as your damn messenger, I'm gonna start charging you both for therapy sessions. As Hermione would say "I'm not an owl"."

Louis, standing in the hallway, shifted uncomfortably. "I just.." He cleared his throat. "I just wanted to check in."

Niall rolled his eyes but stepped aside to let Louis in. "He's on the balcony. Zayn just got back in."

Louis' heart stuttered at that. He wasn't sure what he expected. Harry ignoring him completely? But no, he was here. That meant something... right?

Niall must've sensed his hesitation because he clapped a hand on Louis' back. "Just talk to him," He muttered before disappearing into the kitchen.

Louis swallowed hard and walked through the apartment until he reached the glass doors leading to the balcony.

Harry was there, leaning against the railing, his curls messy from the wind, a cigarette between his fingers. He hadn't smoked in years. Louis knew that he found it disgusting. The sight of it twisted something in his chest.

Harry didn't turn around, but his posture stiffened. "Didn't think you'd actually show up."

Louis stepped out onto the balcony, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, well. Couldn't let Niall keep talking shit about me."

A ghost of a chuckle escaped Harry, but it wasn't full of warmth, it was bitter, tired. He finally turned to face Louis, eyes unreadable. "Why are you here?"

Louis sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know."

Harry huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Great answer."

Louis hesitated before speaking again. "I just... I hate how we left things."

Harry exhaled slowly, tapping his cigarette against the railing. "How do you think I feel?" His voice was quieter now, almost resigned. "I don't know how to be around you, Louis."

Louis felt that like a punch to the gut. He nodded, staring at the ground. "I get that."

They stood there for a long moment, the distant sounds of the city filling the silence between them.

Finally, Louis spoke again. "Do you hate me?"

Harry turned to him fully then, his brows furrowing like he couldn't believe Louis would even ask that. "No," He admitted. "That's the worst part. I don't." He dropped his cigarette, crushing it under his shoe. "I just don't know if I can trust you again."

Louis swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I'll wait," He said quietly. "As long as it takes."

Harry's eyes flickered with something Louis couldn't quite place. Pain, hope, maybe both. He didn't say anything, just nodded once before looking away.

It wasn't much. But it wasn't nothing either.

For now, it was enough.

Louis left that night feeling raw. He wanted to say more, but Harry wasn't ready. And if he pushed too hard, he'd lose the last sliver of hope he had left.

**

Harry

Harry sat in the chair beside Gemma's bed, fingers laced together, staring at her unmoving form. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors filled the silence, a cruel reminder of how much time had passed.

He exhaled shakily. "Hey, Gem," He murmured. "Still waiting on you." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I, uh... I saw Louis."

Nothing. No reaction.

Harry clenched his jaw. "I don't know what to do," He admitted. "I don't even know what's real anymore. Was it all a lie? Were we just another part of his plan?" His voice cracked, and he looked down at his hands. "I loved him. I still do. But how do I love someone I don't trust?"

The machines beeped steadily in response.

Harry swallowed and reached for her hand. It was warm, but still. Too still.

"I need you to wake up," he whispered. "I need you to tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do."

But Gemma didn't wake up.

And Harry had no answers.

**

Louis

Louis kept his hood up as he moved through the quiet corridors, his heart hammering in his chest. He knew this was a bad idea. Stupid. Reckless. If Harry ever found out, he'd probably shut him out for good.

But Louis had to see her.

He reached Gemma's room and paused, glancing over his shoulder. The hallway was empty. He inhaled sharply before slipping inside.

The sight of her nearly knocked the air from his lungs. Pale. Still. Wires and tubes keeping her tethered to the world.

Louis swallowed hard and approached the bed.

"Hey, Gemma," He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's Louis."

No response. Not that he expected one.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "I never wanted this," He admitted. "You didn't deserve this. None of you did." His throat tightened. "I don't know if you can hear me, but... I need you to wake up. For Harry. He needs you more than he'll ever admit."

Louis hesitated before reaching for her hand, brushing his fingers lightly over her knuckles. "I'll fix this," He whispered. "I swear, Gemma. I'll fix it."

But as he stood there, watching over her, Louis knew that some things couldn't be fixed. Some things had to be rebuilt from the ground up.

And that? That was going to take time.

**

A few days passed before Harry saw Louis again.

It wasn't planned. It wasn't expected.
It was at the hospital.

Harry had just left Gemma's room, exhausted, running on too little sleep and too much caffeine. He rubbed his temples as he walked down the hall.

And then he saw him. Louis.

Standing by the vending machine, hands in his pockets, looking like he didn't belong but wasn't quite ready to leave.

Harry froze, a sick feeling twisting in his stomach. He didn't know what made him say it, but before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Louis' head snapped up, eyes widening slightly before he schooled his expression. "Just visiting someone."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Bullshit."

Louis exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. "Harry, not here."

Harry's hands curled into fists at his sides. "Then where, Louis? When?" His voice was low, sharp. "You expect me to just keep running into you and pretending like everything's fine?"

"No," Louis admitted. "I don't."

Silence stretched between them. Why was this all so messed up?

Louis hesitated before speaking again. "How is she?"

Harry's stomach dropped. "You-" His eyes darkened with realization. "You were in her room."

Louis didn't deny it.

Harry let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

"I just needed to see her," Louis said. "I needed.." He sighed. "I don't know. I needed to tell her I'm sorry."

Harry stared at him, torn between fury and something else. Something dangerously close to longing.

"I can't do this right now," He muttered, brushing past Louis, shoulders bumping.

Louis didn't follow him. He heard that phrase too often. Harry couldn't do that right now. Always the same.

And again as always, he let Harry go.

Because this wasn't something they could solve in a night.

This was going to take time.

And Louis was willing to wait. Even if it hurt.

**

The days passed, slow and heavy. The weight of everything, of the lies, the pain, the betrayals, was still there, sitting between them like an immovable wall. But cracks were starting to form.

Harry wasn't sure when it happened exactly, but one day, he realized the anger wasn't as sharp anymore. It was still there, still burned in his chest, but it wasn't blinding. And maybe, just maybe, that was progress.

**

Louis

Louis spent the next few weeks doing what needed to be done.

The Red Lily was no more.

It took every ounce of manipulation, strategy, and force he had left in him, but he pulled the strings one by one. He dismantled the operation from the inside, using the power his father had given him through his death,  only to burn it all to the ground.

No more shipments. No more trafficking. No more blood money lining the pockets of corrupt men.

It was over.

And when it was done, Louis was left standing in the wreckage of a world he never wanted to be a part of in the first place.

Zayn had been his rock through it all. The only one who truly understood what it meant to live in the gray, to make impossible choices.

"You did it, mate," Zayn told him one night, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. "You ended what your father started."

Louis scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, and now I've got nothing left."

Zayn nudged his shoulder. "That's not true."

Louis exhaled, watching the smoke swirl in the air. "Harry still won't talk to me properly."

Zayn shrugged. "Give him time."

Louis huffed a humorless laugh. "That's all I've been doing."

"Then keep doing it."

Louis stayed silent, knowing Zayn was right but hating how much it hurt.

**

Harry

Harry wasn't okay. But he was trying.

Niall and Liam made sure of that.

"Come on, mate," Niall said, dragging him out of the house again. "You can't just sit here and wallow forever."

Liam nodded in agreement. "You need to live your life. The case is closed. Red Lily is gone. You should be celebrating."

Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes. "It doesn't feel like a victory."

Niall softened. "Because you lost him."

Harry swallowed hard. "Because I don't know if I ever really had him."

Liam placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Maybe you should ask him."

Harry wanted to. God, he wanted to. But it wasn't that easy.

**

It was Niall who set it up.

Harry didn't even realize what was happening until he walked into the coffee shop and saw Louis sitting at the corner table, fidgeting with his cup.

Harry froze. He could walk away. He could leave and pretend he never saw him.

But he didn't.

Instead, he exhaled slowly and walked forward, sitting across from Louis without a word.

Louis looked up at him, cautious, like he was afraid one wrong move would shatter whatever fragile thread was holding them together.

"Hi," Louis said hesitantly.

Harry licked his lips, sat down and accidently knocked over the cup infront of him. "Oops."

The silence stretched.

Louis cleared his throat. "I, um... I wasn't sure you'd come."

Harry shrugged. "Me neither."

Louis swallowed. "Thanks for-"

"Don't thank me," Harry interrupted. He sighed. "I don't know what this is yet, Louis."

Louis nodded. "I get it."

And the thing was.. he did.

So they sat there, sipping their drinks, saying very little.

But maybe, just maybe, it was a start.

**

Their friends were determined to make things normal again.

Or as normal as they could be.

So one Friday night, they all ended up at Niall's place. It wasn't a date. It wasn't even an intentional reunion. But somehow, they were all there. Harry, Louis, Zayn, Liam, and Niall. Sitting in the same room, sharing drinks and stories like the past few months hadn't nearly torn them apart.

Louis and Harry kept their distance at first.

But the tension wasn't as suffocating as before.

They could exist in the same space without it hurting as much.

And when Harry laughed at something Liam said, Louis caught himself smiling.

He missed that laugh.

He missed everything.

And for the first time, Louis thought maybe, just maybe, he could have it back someday.

If he was patient.

If Harry let him.

If they could rebuild what had been broken.

That night, as everyone was leaving, Louis found himself lingering by the door.

Harry noticed.

They locked eyes, and for the first time in weeks, it didn't feel like an accident.

Harry took a breath. "I still don't trust you."

Louis nodded. "I know."

Harry hesitated. "But I think I want to."

Something in Louis' chest loosened.

It wasn't a grand declaration. It wasn't forgiveness.

But it was something.

And for now, that was enough.

Chapter Text

Harry

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and the faint traces of coffee from exhausted visitors .Harry had spent the entire day at Gemma's bedside, holding her hand, listening to her hoarse voice as she tried to make sense of what had happened to her.

She was back. She woke up. That was all that mattered.

When Anne told him to go, he hesitated. But then she squeezed his shoulder and whispered, "Someone else has been waiting for you, too."

That's how Harry found himself stepping out into the crisp night air, his heart hammering against his ribs as he spotted Louis leaning against the hospital's outer wall, hands shoved deep into his pockets, staring down at the pavement.

Louis looked up the moment Harry approached, and for a long second, neither of them spoke.

Then, Louis exhaled softly. "She's okay?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. She's tired, but... yeah."

A beat of silence.

Then Louis shifted, nodding toward the quiet street. "Walk with me?"

Harry hesitated, but then, "Okay."

They walked side by side, the world around them muted, the only sound the occasional passing car and their shoes scuffing against the pavement. It was strange, being alone together again after everything. But it wasn't as suffocating as before.

After a few minutes, Louis finally broke the silence.

"I wanted to come in," He admitted. "But I didn't want to push."

Harry glanced at him. "I know."

Louis swallowed. "I'm glad she's okay."

Harry nodded. "Me too."

Another pause. Then Harry sighed. "It's weird."

Louis frowned. "What is?"

Harry gestured between them. "This. Us. Being here, talking, after everything. It feels like we've been through a war."

Louis let out a humorless chuckle. "We kind of have."

They stopped at the edge of a small park, the streetlights casting long shadows over the empty benches.

Harry turned to Louis, crossing his arms. "I've been thinking."

Louis tensed. "That sounds dangerous."

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled just a little. "I've been angry at you for a long time. And I think... I needed to be."

Louis nodded. "I know."

"I needed time to be mad. To be hurt. To process all of it. And I still don't know if I completely understand it all, but..." Harry exhaled, looking up at the sky. "I know you did what you did for a reason. And I know you didn't mean to hurt me."

Louis swallowed hard. "I didn't."

Harry looked back at him, eyes softer than they had been in months. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forget it. But..." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I don't want to lose you."

Louis' breath hitched.

Harry continued. "If we do this again, I need honesty. I need time. And I need to know that you're not just saying what I want to hear."

Louis took a slow step forward, hesitant but sure. "I won't mess it up this time, Harry. I swear."

Harry searched his face, looking for any trace of deception, but there was none. Just raw, unfiltered honesty.

Finally, he nodded. "Okay."

Louis blinked. "Okay?"

A small smile tugged at Harry's lips. "Okay."

And for the first time in months, something inside both of them settled.

This wasn't a perfect fix.

But it was a beginning.

**

The weeks that followed were quiet, but not in a bad way. It was the kind of quiet that came with rebuilding, with cautious steps toward something better. Louis and Harry weren't rushing anything this time. There was too much history between them, too much weight in every glance, every conversation. But there was also hope. Small, but steady.

One evening, Harry invited Louis over. It wasn't the first time they'd been alone since the hospital, but it was the first time Louis was stepping into Harry's home again. It felt... strange. Familiar but different.

Louis stood in the doorway for a moment, unsure whether he was allowed to just walk in like he used to. But Harry simply stepped aside and said, "Come in," His voice soft, almost careful.

Louis took a breath and did.

The house looked the same, but there were little changes. A new candle on the coffee table, a different blanket draped over the couch. He wondered how much had changed in Harry's heart too.

Harry led them into the living room, where two cups of tea were already waiting. Louis arched a brow. "Are we eighty?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Shut up. I made tea because it's comforting."

Louis smirked but took the cup anyway, wrapping his hands around the warmth of it. They sat down, the air between them comfortable but still carrying the weight of everything they had been through.

After a few minutes, Harry sighed, setting his cup down. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Louis tilted his head. "Alright."

Harry rubbed a hand over his face. "I've been seeing a therapist."

Louis blinked, surprised. "You have?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I- " He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I know I have some... bad coping mechanisms. I don't always deal with things the right way. And after everything with Gemma, with you, with-" He exhaled sharply. "It was a lot. So, I got help."

Louis watched him carefully. "That's good, Haz."

Harry offered a small smile. "Yeah. It is. And before you ask, no, I'm not an alcoholic. But I was using alcohol and pills as an escape, and I needed to stop."

Louis nodded. "I never thought you were an alcoholic, Harry. We all know you didn't drank to get through your day, you just drank when you couldn't. I just... worried about you."

Harry looked down at his hands. "I know."

They sat in silence for a moment before Louis said, "I've been working on things too."

Harry looked up. "Yeah?"

Louis nodded. "The Red Lily is completely gone now. Every last bit of it. I made sure of that. But I know you know. I just - wanted it to say in person again."

Harry searched his face. "And how do you feel about that?"

Louis considered his answer. "Lighter." He let out a breath. "I never wanted to take over that life. I never wanted any of it. But now... now it's over. I can actually breathe."

Harry studied him, then nodded. "Good."

Louis took a sip of his tea, watching Harry over the rim. "Anne told me about Desmond."

Harry's expression darkened slightly. "Yeah. She finally divorced him. He ran off somewhere, no one knows where, and honestly? No one cares."

Louis tilted his head. "That must be a relief."

Harry nodded. "It is. It's just... strange, you know? Cutting someone - a parent - out like that. But he doesn't deserve a place in our lives anymore."

Louis reached out then, hesitating only for a second before resting his hand over Harry's. "I'm proud of you."

Harry swallowed hard, looking down at their hands. He didn't pull away. "Thanks."

They sat there for a while, hands touching, the silence between them no longer filled with pain, but with something softer. Something healing.

They were getting there.

**

Time passed in a way neither of them had experienced before. Without chaos, without the weight of looming destruction. It was slow, steady, healing. And most importantly, it was theirs.

Harry and Louis saw each other often, but they didn't rush anything. They went for walks, shared quiet dinners, spent time in each other's presence without expectation. And then there were the nights with the boys.

They played poker on one lad's night, and Harry sat directly across from Louis. Their eyes kept catching across the table, but neither of them said anything.

At one point, Louis raised an eyebrow. "You're bluffing."

Harry scoffed. "No, I'm not."

Louis smirked, leaning back. "You are. You always do this thing with your nose when you're lying."

Harry's jaw tensed, and Niall let out a dramatic gasp. "Oh my God, he does. He totally does."

Harry threw a crisp at Niall, scowling. "Shut up."

Louis grinned, feeling warmth spread in his chest. It was small, but it was something.

Another night, they ended up at Niall's flat, playing FIFA and drinking (except for Harry, who stuck to his sparkling water). Zayn and Liam were in their own world, laughing at something on their phones, while Louis and Harry sat on the couch, shoulders almost touching.

At one point, Harry yawned and stretched, his arm brushing against Louis'. It was barely anything, but Louis still felt it like a spark down his spine.

It was moments like these. Small, fleeting moments of normalcy, that reminded Louis just how much he had missed this. Missed them.

**

It happened on a quiet evening. They had just come back from a dinner, neither of them wanting the night to end just yet. Harry invited Louis in, and Louis accepted without hesitation.

They sat on the couch, talking about nothing and everything. The conversation drifted to music, to old memories, to things they hadn't spoken about in months.

And then there was silence.

Louis glanced over at Harry, who was already looking at him. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them shifted, thickened.

Harry swallowed hard. "I-"

Louis didn't let him finish.

He leaned in, slow enough to give Harry a chance to stop him, fast enough that his heart pounded in his chest.

When their lips finally met, it wasn't desperate or rushed. It was careful. Testing. A question and an answer all at once.

Harry exhaled against Louis's lips, his fingers twitching against the couch cushion. And then, finally, he kissed him back.

It deepened naturally, slowly, like they were rediscovering each other after being lost for too long. Louis cupped Harry's face, his thumb brushing over the sharp line of his jaw.

By the time they pulled away, both of them were breathless.

Louis searched Harry's face. "What are we now?"

Harry's eyes softened. "I don't know yet."

Louis nodded, understanding. "That's okay."

Harry laced their fingers together, squeezing gently. "But I know I want you in my life. I know I don't want to lose this again."

Louis let out a shaky breath. "Me too."

And that was more than Louis could ask for right now.

**

Harry and Niall sat in the dimly lit conference room of the station, stacks of paperwork scattered across the table as they sorted through the final details of the Red Lily case. The case had dragged on for what felt like a lifetime, but it was finally completely over.

The last missing girl, Emily Turner, had been found alive. Malnourished and traumatized but alive. It was a small victory in the sea of loss. They had lost four out of six victims. That kind of failure weighed heavily on all of them, but at least there was closure now. The press had been relentless, their department's reputation had taken a hit, and the public had demanded answers.

There had been press conferences. Exhausting, soul-draining press conferences, where Harry and Niall had to stand in front of cameras and explain the horrors of what happened. But at least they could say, with certainty, that it was over.

Gemma, who had woken up just weeks ago, had found solace in connecting with Emily. Trauma had a way of forging bonds between those who understood it best. Harry had seen them talking during one of his hospital visits, their voices low, their expressions pained but understanding.

The weight of it all had left a permanent mark on them, but at least they had survived.

**

One evening, Harry and Louis sat on the couch at Harry's place, a half-finished cup of tea on the table between them. They'd been dancing around the conversation for days now, circling each other, neither willing to take the next step.

Louis shifted, exhaling softly. "I don't want to do this halfway, Harry."

Harry looked up from where he'd been staring at his hands. "What do you mean?"

Louis met his eyes, a quiet determination there. "I mean us. I don't want to keep pretending we don't both want this. We're not school boys anymore, Hazz."

Harry sighed, rubbing at his temple but not able to ignore the amount of butterflies the nickname caused in his stomach. "You're right. We're a mess, huh?"

Louis let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah. But maybe we can be a mess together."

A small silence stretched between them before Harry reached out, threading their fingers together. "Are we really doing this?"

Louis nodded. "Yeah. We are."

Harry exhaled. "Okay. Then you're mine again, Louis Tomlinson."

Louis grinned, squeezing his hand. "And you're mine, Harry Styles."

And it was straight out off a corny romance novel when Louis leaned in and captured Harry's lips with his to seal the words.

**

A week later, Harry took Louis to meet his therapist. It wasn't planned, exactly. They had been talking, and Harry mentioned he had an appointment, and Louis just... agreed to come.

They sat side by side in the office, Louis fidgeting slightly, clearly out of his comfort zone.

Dr. Patel smiled at them both. "It's good to see you here, Louis."

Louis nodded awkwardly. "Yeah, well... I figured if we're really doing this, I need to understand. And fix what I can."

Harry glanced at Louis, warmth blooming in his chest.

Dr. Patel nodded approvingly. "That's a great mindset." She looked at Harry. "How have you been feeling about everything?"

Harry took a breath. "Better. I'm making progress. I still have bad days, but I'm managing. I- I wanted Louis to see this part of me. Because I'm not the same person I was when we met."

Louis swallowed thickly. "Neither am I."

Dr. Patel leaned forward slightly, her voice calm and steady. "You two have been through a lot, individually and together. If you want this to work, it's going to take time, effort, and patience. Here are a few things I want you both to keep in mind."

She looked at Louis first. "Secrets and lies are what broke you apart in the first place. If you want to rebuild trust, it has to start with full honesty. About everything. No more hiding things to protect the other person. If something is difficult to talk about, then that's probably the conversation that needs to happen the most."

Louis nodded, shifting uncomfortably. "I know. I don't want to keep anything from Harry anymore."

Harry, arms crossed, added, "I don't want to be left in the dark again."

Dr. Patel nodded approvingly. "Then make it a promise to each other. No more secrets."

She turned to Harry. "I know Louis is willing to make things right, but that doesn't mean you have to rush to forgive everything overnight. Trust isn't something you flip a switch on, it's built through consistent actions. If you're feeling doubtful or hurt, communicate that. Don't bottle it up. But also, don't take every little mistake and use it against Louis, at some point, you have to let it go. You can't use it against him forever."

Harry exhaled, glancing at Louis. "Yeah I understand. And I have to learn how to do that instead of just shutting down or walking away."

Dr. Patel smiled. "And Louis, you have to understand that even though Harry is giving you another chance, there might be moments of hesitation. Don't take that as rejection, take it as part of the process."

Louis swallowed hard and nodded.

She continued, "When you do have arguments, and you will, fight fair. No bringing up past mistakes as weapons. No storming out in the middle of things. If a conversation gets too heated, take a break and come back when you're both calmer. The goal isn't to 'win', it's to understand each other."

Harry and Louis both glanced at each other, clearly remembering past fights that had ended in slammed doors and radio silence.

Louis sighed. "Yeah, I need to work on that."

Harry smirked a little. "You think?"

Dr. Patel chuckled. "You both do. The goal is to be on the same team, not opponents."

"One mistake couples often make, especially when trying to rebuild, is losing themselves in each other. You both need to have your own lives, your own hobbies, your own friendships. Love doesn't mean being attached at the hip 24/7. A healthy relationship is two whole people choosing to be together, not two broken halves depending on each other to feel complete."

Harry bit his lip. "I - I think I struggle with that sometimes."

Louis nodded. "Yeah. Me too."

Dr. Patel reassured them, "That's okay. Just be mindful of it. Let each other breathe. Have time apart without fearing it means something is wrong."

Finally, she softened her tone. "Harry, I know you've been working hard in therapy, and I'm really proud of the progress you've made. You're learning healthier coping mechanisms, and you're proving to yourself that you don't need destructive habits to get through hard times."

Harry shifted. "Yeah. I..I just wanted Louis to know that I'm not- " He hesitated before continuing, "I'm not an alcoholic. I had bad coping mechanisms, yes, but I recognized them before they spiraled. I'm dealing with it. And I'm going to keep dealing with it."

Louis reached over, gently squeezing his hand. "I know. And I'm proud of you."

Dr. Patel smiled at the exchange. "That's the kind of support you need to give each other. You're both healing from your own traumas, and that means sometimes, your wounds will clash. But if you both approach it with patience, respect, and love, then you have a real chance at making this work."

They both nodded, absorbing her words.

Dr. Patel leaned back. "This won't be easy, but nothing worth having ever is. The good news? You both want this. That's the most important first step."

Louis turned to Harry, his grip on his hand tightening just slightly. "We've got this."

Harry looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Yeah. We do."

Chapter Text

Anne's new house was warm and inviting, nothing like the cold, extravagant mansion she had once shared with Desmond. She had fallen in love with this place instantly, a cozy two-story cottage-style home with a massive garden where she planned to grow flowers and herbs. Fairy lights adorned the patio, and the smell of home-cooked food drifted through the air as Harry and Louis stepped inside.

The dining table was set beautifully, candles flickering in the soft evening glow. Anne was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she pulled a roast from the oven, while Gemma sat at the table, twirling a glass of wine and watching them with a knowing smirk.

Harry rolled his eyes playfully as he kicked off his shoes. "Mum, you really didn't have to go all out."

"Oh, hush," Anne scolded, waving a wooden spoon at him. "Both my babies are here and I'm allowed to spoil you."

Louis chuckled, sliding an arm around Harry's waist. "I think she enjoys this more than you do."

Gemma grinned. "Oh, definitely. She's been running around all day making sure everything's perfect."

Anne scoffed, placing the roast on the counter with a dramatic sigh. "Well, excuse me for wanting a nice dinner with my children and my favorite son-in-law."

Louis choked on air. "I, uh..son-in-law?"

Anne smirked, pouring herself a glass of wine. "Well, you're practically family, aren't you?"

Harry bit his lip to hide a laugh. Louis, red-faced, fumbled for a response while Gemma snorted into her wine glass.

"Don't scare him off, Mum," Gemma teased. "You might make him rethink dating Harry."

Louis grinned, finally regaining his composure. "Oh, I don't think anything could make me rethink that." He turned to Harry, giving him a sweet, knowing look.

Harry felt his heart swell. They were happy. They had fought so hard for this, and now, standing here in his mother's kitchen, surrounded by love and laughter, he knew it had all been worth it.

Anne watched them with a soft smile before turning back to the food. "Alright, enough sap. Let's eat before it gets cold."

Just as they were finishing dinner, a knock came at the door.

Harry frowned, setting down his fork. "Were you expecting someone?"

Anne's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Oh, just a little surprise."

Before Harry could ask, Niall, Liam, and Zayn burst through the door, holding a few bottles of whiskey and beer.

"The party has arrived!" Niall shouted, tackling Harry into a hug.

"Did you really think we'd miss this?" Liam added, patting Harry's back.

Zayn smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "Took some convincing to get Louis to agree to a party, but here we are."

Louis groaned, rubbing his temples. "I told you I wanted something small."

Niall threw an arm around him. "Yeah, yeah, you say that, but deep down, you love us. And also, it's not about you mate, it's about your better - and prettier - half and his even prettier sister." he laughed and earned himself a smack on the forehead from Louis.

And just like that, the night turned into a full-blown party.

They moved to the living room, where Anne had set up a makeshift bar, and Niall, self-proclaimed bartender (as if they didn't have a real bartender in their group), started making cocktails. 

Gemma and Liam got into a competitive round of charades, which ended in fits of laughter when Liam attempted to act out "Titanic" by dramatically flopping onto the couch.

Zayn took over the music, playing a mix of old hits and ridiculous dance tunes that got everyone up and moving. At one point, Anne even got on the makeshift dance floor, much to everyone's delight and horror.

Harry sat on the couch, watching it all unfold. His chest felt warm, not just from the drinks but from the overwhelming feeling of contentment.

Louis sat beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "You happy, love?"

Harry turned to him, eyes full of love. "Happier than I've been in a long time."

Louis smiled, squeezing his hand. "Good. You deserve it."

**

The party wound down around midnight, the others slowly trickling out, leaving only Harry and Louis. They helped Anne clean up a bit, but she shooed them away. "Go. Enjoy the rest of your night. You're still young, after all."

As they stepped into the quiet night air, Louis pulled Harry close. "Come home with me?"

Harry nodded, letting Louis lead him away, their fingers intertwined.

The moment they stepped inside Louis' apartment, the atmosphere shifted. The playfulness of the night faded into something softer, something deeper.

Louis turned to Harry, cupping his face. "I love you."

Harry exhaled shakily. "I love you too."

Louis kissed him, slow and reverent, like he was memorizing every touch, every sigh. They moved to the bedroom, where clothes fell to the floor in a trail of forgotten fabric.

It wasn't rushed. It wasn't desperate. It was love in its purest form. 

Louis kissed down Harry's body, leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever his tongue touched Harry's delicate skin. Harry had his arms lazily draped over his head, writhing under Louis' touch, silently begging for more. 

And Louis granted him that because he didn't want to make him suffer this night. He made himself comfortable between Harry's long legs and kissed the inside of his thighs, moving closer to where Harry needed him most. Louis' own dick was hard and throbbing between his legs. But today it was about Harry and his pleasure. He looked up and their eyes met, an unspoken understanding. 

He looked at Harry's cock, glistening with precome, dark red and rock hard. As he put his head in his mouth, Harry whimpered, the sound shooting straight into Louis' cock. He took it all of Harry in his mouth, hollowed his cheeks around him. Took him as deep as he could and swallowed as the tip touched the back of his throat. 

Harry let out a loud moan and his hand buried itself in Louis' hair. Louis then moaned around him, the vibrations of that made Harry unintentionally buck his hips. "Lou, stop. I don't want to come from that." Harry breathed in a hoarse voice, a shiver running down his spine as he saw Louis between his legs, his mouth full of his cock, looking absolutely obscene.

Normally, Louis would continue to edge him, but not tonight. Tonight he just wanted to enjoy and lose himself completely in Harry and fulfill his every wish. With a smack oh his lips, he released himself and crawled up, he laid down between Harry's legs, their hard cocks rubbed together, the feeling eliciting loud moans from both of them. For a moment they looked into each other's eyes and moved slightly against each other. Searching for friction in the other's body.

Louis closed the distance and they met in a kiss that quickly deepened. Their tongues explored each other's mouths, fighting for dominance.

"How do you want it?" Louis broke the kiss and whispered against Harry's lips. 

"I want you to make love to me." Louis smiled softly and nodded before connecting their lips again. He blindly reached for the lube they had laid next to them and covered his finger in some of it, then found his way between Harry's legs and slowly circled his hole. Since the two found each other again and became more confident with each other, they could hardly keep their hands off each other. A regular sex life was beneficial for gay sex, so they didn't need nearly as much preparation as they did in the beginning. A few more thrusts of his finger, massaging Harrys's walls, slightly crooking it and grazing Harry's most sensitive spot and it was enough.

 "I'm ready." He stammered and Louis removed his finger, wiping it on the sheets. He positioned himself while Harry squeezed a bit of lube in his own hand to wet Louis' cock. They exchanged another look and Harry nodded. Louis took Harry's hands in his and hold them tightly above Harry's head as he slowly pushed into his boyfriend. Harry's mouth fell open and Louis watched him mesmerized. 

"I love you so much, Harry. God, fuck, I love you. I love you. Oh my god." Louis chanted hoarsely, the room filled with Harry's panting and the soft sound of the bed rocking against the wall with every thrust.

"I love you too. So much, Louis. You're it for me." Harry replied with a sob. The air between them shifted, thick with longing and unspoken promises, their touches slow and reverent as if tracing the map of a love they had fought so hard to keep. 

Every whispered breath, every lingering kiss carried the weight of devotion, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. Not just with passion, but with the overwhelming relief of finding home in each other again.

"I'm close." Harry whimpered, euphoria having long taken over. 

"Me too." Louis gritted out and buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck, breathing in the scent of his lover, unique and so Harry, only for him. 

Almost embarassingly fast they both reached their highs. 

"Oh my god, I'm coming." Louis shouted. 

Tripping over the edge in unison. Holding each other while words left their mouths like prayers. They stayed like this for a moment, still joined in the most intimate way, not caring about Louis softening cock inside Harry nor about Harrys warm come between their bodies. 

In this moment, they were just happy to be together, to exist together. To have each other. To love each other. 

When they finally lay tangled together, cleaned and sheets changed, hearts beating in sync, Harry traced gentle patterns on Louis' bare shoulder.

"This was the best night in so long." he murmured.

Louis smiled sleepily, pulling Harry closer. "You're my best everything."

And with that, they drifted off, wrapped in each other, knowing that this - this was forever.

Chapter Text

Louis

A few months had passed, and things had settled into something beautiful, something Louis never thought he would have.

Moving in with Harry had been an easy decision, though it still made Louis nervous at first. He wasn't used to stability, to waking up next to the same person every morning, knowing they'd still be there. But Harry made it easy. Their mornings were filled with sleepy kisses and tangled limbs; their nights, with laughter and whispered conversations about nothing and everything.

But Louis needed more than just love, he needed purpose.

Harry had nudged him toward it, actually. "You're good with people," He had said one night, lazily drawing patterns on Louis' bare back. "You want to make a difference, so do it."

And Louis did.

With some help, he bought a large house - a beautiful, warm space with high ceilings and cozy corners - and turned it into a home for kids and teenagers who needed a safe place to stay. Some were escaping difficult home lives, others just needed guidance, and Louis, for the first time in his life, felt like he was where he was supposed to be. He hired a small but dedicated team, including a therapist, social workers, and mentors. The progress was fast, almost overwhelming, but in the best way possible.

Harry had never been prouder.

They both had careers they loved. Harry back at the station, and Louis giving lost kids the hope he once wished he had. Their relationship was stable, full of love and support, and they made time for their friends and family. They had weekly dinners with Anne, Gemma, and the boys, game nights that ended in drunken karaoke, and lazy Sundays spent tangled together on the couch.

And then came Clifford.

Louis came home one day, grinning like a madman, holding a squirming labradoodle puppy in his arms.

Harry blinked. "What -what is that?"

"A dragon, Harry," Louis deadpanned, setting the dog down, who immediately tripped over his own paws and fell into Harry's legs. "What do you think it is?"

"You got a dog?"

"I did."

"Without asking me?"

Louis shrugged. "I mean, I thought about it, but then I saw his little face and, well..."

Harry sighed dramatically, but he was already on the floor, scratching the puppy's ears. "What's his name?"

Louis smirked. "Clifford."

Harry's head snapped up. "You named our dog Clifford?"

"Yes, as in the Big Red Dog," Louis confirmed. "I know he's not red, but it fits, doesn't it?"

Harry rolled his eyes but couldn't stop smiling. "You're ridiculous."

"But you love me."

Harry huffed. "Unfortunately."

Clifford quickly became the center of their lives. He was clumsy and affectionate, often found sprawled across their laps or getting stuck in random places around the house. He chewed through three pairs of Harry's shoes, stole Louis' socks on a daily basis, and somehow managed to take up more space in bed than either of them.

Life was perfect.

And then, one evening, Louis made it even more perfect.

It started as a normal date night. Louis had asked Harry to meet him at the little Italian restaurant where they had gone on one of their first proper dates. Harry thought nothing of it, just happy to spend the night with his boyfriend, eating pasta and drinking wine.

But when they finished dinner, Louis took his hand and led him outside instead of heading home.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, laughing.

"You'll see."

Louis took him on a walk through the city, past familiar streets and quiet parks, until they reached a rooftop garden Louis had rented out for the night. Fairy lights twinkled above them, candles flickered along the pathway, and soft music played in the background.

Harry stopped in his tracks. "Louis..."

Louis turned to him, taking both of his hands. His heart was pounding, but his voice was steady. "I used to think love wasn't meant for me," he started. "That I was too damaged, too messed up to deserve something like this. But then you happened."

Harry's eyes were already glistening.

"You make me better, Harry. You gave me a home, a future, a reason to believe in something good. And I don't ever want to live a life without you in it." Louis pulled out a small box, opening it to reveal a simple yet stunning silver band. "So.. will you marry me?"

Harry let out a shaky breath, then nodded, laughing through his tears. "Of course, you idiot."

Louis barely had time to slip the ring onto Harry's finger before Harry was kissing him, deep and desperate and full of love.

They pulled away only when Clifford, who Niall had been babysitting but apparently let loose, came bounding onto the rooftop, knocking them both onto the ground.

Louis groaned from under the weight of both Harry and their overexcited dog. "So, that's a yes?"

Harry laughed, pressing a kiss to Louis' temple. "That's a hell yes."

And just like that, their forever began.

The End