Song: Terrible Ideas by Cyn (& You Can Be The Boss by Lana Del Rey)

pre-note: happy belated Valentine's Day ! here is some long-awaited smut-ish, no penetration so keep your pants on. it isn't graphic but it's hot. just a taste of what's to come :^) enjoy

The next few days feel like an eternity, Harry debates showing up at the mansion again, even though he would be shot on the spot. His plans for sneaking into the highly secure mansion are forgotten with the buzz of his phone.

The Ace Hotel at 8 pm this Friday. Check-in as Edward Palms into the Ace Suite. Don't be late.

He falls to sleep with a fluttering in his chest, it must be his heart. It knew who it wanted and was impatient. It was up to Harry's brain and mouth to get it who it wants but Harry always did get a little stupid around Louis. Though now, with his newfound sense of cocky confidence, he thinks he can stand toe-to-toe with the strikingly vain and poised Donna.

Two days later, almost twenty minutes before eight, Harry sits in a suite at the Ace hotel. He's dressed in a pair of fitting white slacks and a chiffon black button-up. He's wearing the same pair of loafers he received in Paris for Louis' party and attempts to do his hair in the style from that night.

The Ace Hotel was on South Broadway and was known as one of the most high-end hotels in the city. Located in downtown Los Angeles, an icon of old Hollywood with the famous theatre of restored grand architecture and thirteen floors of luxurious rooms. Harry's only been to the theatre for a show, but never in an actual room. He hasn't treated himself to a vacation in years, not even a spa day. He could use a massage if today ends up with him broken limbs and bandages.

He knows how much it costs for a stay at the hotel, and considering it also happens to be in the suite, it was a delightful surprise. If this was how Louis did all his appointments, it was an expensive temporary office. This suite wasn't as extravagant as the one in Paris, much more modernized and sophisticated. The walls are a wash of off-white, contrasting with neutral brown wood furniture and dark green accents.

After exploring the suite and checking the drawers and closets for anything suspicious—and coming up clean, Harry makes himself comfortable on the couch, switching on the television to fill the silence. He becomes well acquainted with the fully stocked mini-bar, fixing himself a Vodka Gimlet. He sips the sweet citrusy drink while looking out onto the lit-up streets of Los Angeles from the private terrace.

He tries to calm his nerves, downing a second glass once he's done the first. He sits on the couch and anxiously fiddles with the thin material of his shirt, tugging and twirling it between his fingers.

It took this long for Harry to decide, maybe it was Louis' outbreak from the shadows. A man who, on paper didn't exist, now frolicking on military aircraft for everyone to see. Louis gave hints, he wanted to be chased—first, he wanted Harry to chase him, then Harry caught him and now Louis wants a bigger predator, a harder challenge. He's flourishing for the attention and taking credit for his chaos.

On Harry's plate was Louis, his job and now Dakota Spade, the author who wanted to meet Harry, interview him on his capture of Louis. Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes whenever he thought of the man, he made life sound like a movie with exciting plot twists and dynamic characters. To Harry, life was bland and dull rather than flavourful and vibrant. It was also dangerous, creatures lurking around every corner for the opportunity to pounce. Now, Harry grew into the habit of constantly checking over his shoulder.

With his thoughts clouding his brain, he's unable to concentrate on the news channel updates about La Puissance. He's sweating profusely when he checks his watch, then the door swings open. Harry's breath comes out in deep puffs as he listens to heels on the hardwood floor.

"Didn't fix me something as well?"

Harry's glass clatters to the carpet, spilling the contents. He stumbles to the mini bar, hands fumbling with the array of glasses and bottles. "What..." He breathes in, "What would you like?"

"Something sour with a hint of honey."

Harry hears the faint movement behind himself but busies himself with preparing Louis' drink. After thinking back to his days as the appointed bartender at his old friend's summer parties, he knows exactly what to give the Donna. Harry adds gin, lemon juice and a honey packet. He stirs the concoction roughly until the honey dissolves.

He wills himself to not drop Louis' drink when he turns around but seeing the man again, in the flesh and a few feet away definitely did something to the blood on Harry's veins. The Donna's hair is neatly combed over his forehead and a soft pink lipgloss on his mouth rather than his iconic red. Louis was dressed in a white turtleneck, overtop was a fitting leather dress. His legs were crossed, the shiny leather boots glimmering in the dim light. On his hands are a matching pair of gloves.

LOUIS' OUTFIT: GUCCI

With trembling hands, Harry sets down the glass onto the coffee table before awkwardly sitting next to the Donna. He presses himself against the arm of the couch, fiddling with his sleeve.

Louis takes his drink off the table and sips it. "Just so you're aware, I'm only here because of what you did for Zayn. I could've crossed your name out of the log, and then I'd have a lovely evening." Louis brushes his hair from his face, blue eyes rimmed with eyeliner. "On other circumstances, my heel would be in your throat."

Harry interests himself by examining the spill of his drink on the white carpet. Kicking the glass so it rolls slightly. It crosses Harry's mind that Louis may actually hurt him today, regardless if Harry was armed, and he was, he couldn't shoot Louis if it was life or death. That means everyone would hear about his dead body in the Ace hotel unless Louis has it cleaned up and disposed of.

Just looking at the divine Donna, Harry concluded he couldn't function without him. Weeks ago, Harry would have vomited over the thought of meeting Louis again, the secrecy made him sick. But today, Harry felt ultimately different. Not as scared or skittish, he was ready and willing to do whatever it takes.

"I wanted to talk," Harry narrows his eyes, "And I wanted you to listen to me. Not just hear me, I want you to understand what I'm saying and—"

"I know how to listen." Louis grumbles. "Connard pense que je suis stupide."

"Asshole thinks I'm stupid."

"Yeah, okay," Harry says with more attitude than intended. His eyes drop to a sliver of Louis' golden skin visible between his dress and the top of his boots. He knows he shouldn't stare but it's been so long, and Louis was right there. Harry would do anything to hold him again, to touch him.

The Donna checks his watch. "I have eighteen minutes before my next appointment." He says with a sigh. "Please, proceed."

It takes a few long moments for Harry to gather his thoughts. "Okay, well... I don't know how to say this." Harry murmurs. He's given this a lot of thought, a month of just thinking and weighing the pros and cons of joining Louis and here he was. "Okay, okay." He repeats while frantically running hands through his hair. "Right, well."

Louis looks at his watch when Harry doesn't speak. "Sixteen minutes."

"You slashed my tires," Harry recalls waking up one day in early December to see his car tries deflated. "You made me late for work, it wasn't very kind of you."

"Was that my doing?" Louis wonders innocently. "I don't think it was because I would've done something more extravagant. Slip some acid in your pipes, burn your skin or maybe you would drink it, oh, how I wish you would."

Harry's skin washes over with goosebumps, he takes a slow breath to calm down. "I would be dead then, baby." He tags on the nickname, observing the twitch of Louis' right eye.

"Maybe that's how I want you." Louis blinks slowly, lashes brushing his prominent cheekbones. "Rotting six feet underground."

"No, you don't." Harry inches closer, heart hammering against his chest. "How would see me again, Foxglove?" The air in the room changes, shifting gears as Harry steers the conversation where he wants. "How could I touch you," There is a glazed look in Louis' blues and Harry takes his chance, lifting a hand and gently stroking the Donna's cheek. They're closer now, breaths fanning over each other's cheeks, Harry resists kissing him. "How could I worship you, if I were dead?"

Louis' snaps back. Blue eyes storming over, a scowl taking over his soft features, his gloved hand grips Harry's wrist tightly. "Touch me again—"

"What are you going to do?" Harry draws closer again, pinning Louis against the arm of the couch. He hovers over the Donna with his towering height and broad frame. "Tell me, darling. Will you plant a bomb in my car? Hire one of your death dealers to hunt me down? Or would you rather do it yourself, maybe shoot me?" Harry tsks, "Oh no, that's too easy, or as you say, pathetic." He frees his wrist from Louis' grip and runs his fingers through the Donna's hair, bumping their noses.

Harry wanted Louis to take him seriously and even fear him a little. Just for a shot of power to dominate the Donna, Harry needed to scare him a bit. Intimidate him into submission where Harry could tell him the truth. It was manipulation masked by sultry words and hot hands, but Louis was smart. If Louis didn't want Harry, he would have shoved Harry and send him tumbling to the ground. But he didn't, he was taking what Harry was giving, feeding into his affection and that was the best part.

"Speak to me, am I pathetic right now, doll?"

Louis' lips part as he gasps quietly. The flesh of his cheeks is a light shade of red and the diamond at home right below his eye. Louis' gaze wavers between Harry's lips and chain hanging around his neck, the charm still there.

"C'mon, Foxglove. You're always so mouthy, where are those snarky remarks? You going to call me kitten?" This surge of confidence is thrilling, Harry soaks it up like the sun on a summer day. He thoroughly enjoys making Louis speechless, taking an ounce of his control in a world where he's always in power. It's refreshing. "Hm, cat got your tongue?"

Like before, Louis bounces from his submissive state. He shoves Harry back, crawling over his body until he's pinned down. "You want me to be mouthy? How about I just be ruthless?" Louis' lips brush Harry's ear, his breath fanning over his cheek. "I want to make you bleed. I want to restrain you and make you feel how I did." There is a heat laced in his tone, wrapping around his accent and terrifying every bit of Harry's soul. "Do you know how miserable I've been for a month?

"Why did it take you so long to find me?" Louis swings his leg over Harry's lap, planting himself on the man's lap. His blue eyes are rimmed with mascara, lips painted with a soft pink lipgloss. "If you really wanted me, you would've found me earlier. But no, petite pétasse." Louis' hand wraps around Harry's hair, yanking it.

The man's head is pulled back, neck stretched painfully as Louis stares at his Adam's apple bobbing. Louis draws closer, nose ghosting the skin as he smells Harry, adoring his musky vanilla cologne. Poking out his tongue, he traces up from Harry's collarbones to the underside of his jaw, moving slow. Harry's breath deepens as his hands grip Louis' waist.

A deep groan falls from Harry's lips as Louis' teeth pierce his neck, hard, the numbing sensation shooting through his body. Harry almost shoves Louis off of him from the sheer force of it all. Louis didn't hold back, he holds Harry's head back and ravishes the unmarred skin of his neck. Sucking more for pain than for pleasure. He wasn't nibbling, he was biting at Harry's collarbones, venturing down into his unbuttoned shirt and back up to his stubbly jaw.

"I fucking hate you," Louis mutters, "I wish I could kill you."

Harry audibly gulps, eyes staring up at the white ceiling. "Please don't." His voice sounds wrecked, he grows red from Louis' laugh. This was a step back from his progress, he wanted to crawl over Louis and tell him how he felt, give him a taste of his medicine. But Harry couldn't gather up the guts or strength. Not with angry steam blowing from Louis' ears. Though, as taboo as it may sound, Harry liked the raging energy radiating off Louis' body.

"Don't tempt me then." The Donna finally pulls away, his lipgloss is gone and probably all over Harry's neck now. His eyes are sharp, colour like the bottom of the ocean, full of the unknown, full of danger. "It took a lot of me to trust you, and now that you've ruined it all, it'll be even harder the second time around."

Harry shifts, cock straining in his pants. He never knew he had a thing for pain until Louis came around, but Harry thinks he would be discovering plenty of things about himself from now on. Just the thought of having Louis squirming under his body, naked and ready, Harry began sweating.

Louis pulls at Harry's hair again, "Get your head out of your pants, Harry. Look who can't listen now."

"I-I am," Harry chokes out, eyes shut in bliss as Louis grinds against his erection. "Don't stop."

"Oh, is that what you want?" Louis moves his hips slowing, his dress riding up as Harry's hands slip beneath the lace of his panties to grab handfuls of his bare ass. "We can't always get what we want," Louis' voice drags, fingers tracing through Harry's hair. Harry's cock grows harder, fitting between Louis' cheeks. He grinds back and forth, the temperature of the room increasing by the second. "For instance, I wanted you. And you fucked me over."

Harry almost feels like crying, the weight and heat of Louis' body was all he's ever dreamed of. It makes up for every pair of boxers he's ruined from coming in his sleep and every time he jerked off in the shower to nothing but mere thoughts.

Louis tsks. "No apology?" He trails his fingernails down, tugging at Harry's buttons. "Guess I have to draw it out of you." His hips speed up, his movements are dirty as he works over the tent in Harry's boxers. "C'mon, talk to me, daddy." Louis mouthes at the lovebites on Harry's neck. "I deserve an apology for the shit you've put me through. Saying you'd put a bullet through my head and then making me wait for you to come to me."

"You want me to use you, daddy? Not give you a break, ride your cock whenever I want." Louis' mouth was filthy, his breath hitches when Harry's finger traces his hole. "I don't remember giving you permission to touch me there." He nibbles on Harry's ear.

Harry reluctantly removes his rogue fingers, he occupies himself with spreading Louis' cheeks and thrusting his hips until the Donna starts moaning softly. "I'll use you, Foxglove." Harry grunts, "Not the other way around."

"Is that right?" Louis murmurs, hair falling over his eyes. "You'll give me orders, tell me when I'm being good or being bad."

"You're always bad," Harry pants, the heat flares up in his stomach and spreads to his chest. Louis curls his fingers in his hair and looks down at him with a loose jaw. "Disobedient with an attitude. Need to shut you up sometimes." If he could tear his hands away from Louis' ass, he would be ripping open his own pants.

Louis smiles, biting his lip. "Which one of us is the boss?"

Harry shivers, groaning weakly when Louis moves faster, his hips are fluid over his throbbing cock. It was a fresh stream of pleasure that Harry has never experienced, and it was with clothes on. He could only fantasize about what it would be like with nothing but satin sheets and fluffy pillows. "Me."

"Oh, you want to be the boss?" Louis inquires, voice light and airy. "You have what it takes? I'm not easy."

Harry clenches his teeth, Louis was being difficult, not that he minded. It was going to be harder than he thought if he wanted to completely dominate Louis. He was up for the challenge.

"For today, you can be the boss, daddy."

Harry's eyes shoot open, and he flips them over. He pushes Louis onto the couch, crawling over him and slotting between his spread thighs. He looks down, Louis' cock poking out from his lace panties, the lilac material straining against the red tip. That's when he sees it, the pocketknife nestled in the leather holster strapped to Louis' thigh. Even with a sharp object so close to his cock, Harry doesn't falter.

"It's about fucking time," Harry groans, moving roughly between Louis' spread thighs. "You say it's only for today but I know you just want to be used, all pliant. Doll just wants to be cared for, bossed around."

"Wrong," Louis glares, chest heaving.

His cock is throbbing, one hand squeezing Louis' thigh and the other braced over the man's head. Harry moves faster, breath going deeper and eyes switching between Louis' thin pink lips and wide eyes. Harry merely wishes there weren't layers between them, he'd rather drag his tongue all over Louis' body, his ass especially. Harry groans out when Louis pulls his hair, the pain never felt so good.

"Am I?" Harry drops down, marking up Louis' jaw. The Donna's mewls and whimpers are more graceful than any symphony. Harry wants to tape it and put it on a record. "I can see it in your eyes. Foxglove just wants a break, no responsibilities."

"Don't get cocky." Louis' voice is ruined and they've barely done anything. Harry can only imagine how he sounds after getting thoroughly fucked.

"I'll care for you, Doll," Harry bites especially hard on Louis' ear, "Give you everything you need. I'll be your boss." His boxers are uncomfortable on his cock, but he's too far lost in his movements to seek a different option to reach his end.

"Daddy," Louis' head falls to the side, eyes watering. His legs quiver.

"I'll be your daddy, too." Harry can feel the burn of Louis' death grip on his hair, he thrusts his clothed cock over Louis' bulge. There are beads of sweat forming at Louis' hairline. "Your boss and daddy, Foxglove," Harry growls. "I'll be your all."

Harry's mind is so far gone that he doesn't register how quickly he's reaching his high. His hips stutter, boxers going wet and eyes falling shut in pleasure. He collapses on the Donna, panting heavily, drunk on Louis as feel the aftershocks of his orgasm. He curses to himself, having been so focused on coming, he failed to watch Louis reach his end.

He leans back, looking down at the spent Donna. Louis' hair is messy, cheeks flushed and most importantly, his panties are wet. His cock hiding behind the lilac lace, covered in his own cum as some spurted through the thin material. Harry locks on the man's red member, his mouth waters.

"You," Louis gulps, tugging his dress down to conceal himself. "You are not as tame as I thought you were."

"A pleasant surprise?" Harry asks hopefully, watching Louis slowly sit up, the Donna closing his legs. "I meant everything I said."

That was true. Harry was shutting the door on his life as an agent and indulging in Louis' magic. He even confessed his endgame of being the only one to care for Louis. He stated his expectations for their relationship, and he knew Louis wanted to meet them, he wanted to please Harry. His submissive side was hiding behind his threatening personality and Harry was determined to break down those walls.

"We'll need to test everything as we go on." Louis bites his lip, eyeing the wet spot on Harry's pants. "If you want me all quiet, you're going to have to shut me up."

Harry hums, almost reaching down to palm his returning boner. "I can do that."

Louis bites on the tip of his gloved finger. "Before we do anything else, I think you owe me something for my troubles," Louis points to the skin visible through Harry's shirt. "Maybe something right there but I need to clean up first," He stands and goes to the bathroom.

A small dash of fear appears in Harry's chest, while openly checking-out Louis' ass that was just visible under the hem of his dress, Harry bites his knuckles. Then he follows after him.

The bathroom is a wash of browns and white, clean and classy with a large bathtub with jets and a wide shower. Harry's attention is drawn away from the interior design to Louis yanking up his dress, revealing his panties, his cock and cum showing slightly through the sheer material then, Louis slips off his cum stained panties and Harry watches the Donna wipe himself clean. He's quick to sit on the counter and study Louis' actions. He could clean himself as well, but Harry's mind goes blank when he spots the small holster around his thigh. Louis swiftly takes the small weapon and flicks it open.

"That's a pretty knife, Foxglove." Harry sits up, pressing his back against the mirror. His palms sweat as Louis twirls the pocketknife between his fingers.

"Hm, you look nervous. Where's that smug asshole, now?" Louis plays cool, tapping the shiny tip of the knife on his bottom lip.

Harry's eyes are locked on the silver. "He's right in front of you, darling."

Louis takes slow steps to Harry who watches his movements like a hawk. "Oh, he must be fighting that flight instinct. Do me a favour and tell him he can leave if he wishes, the door is down that hall."

Harry doesn't move an inch. Even spreading his legs as an invitation. Louis stands between them with a tiny smile blooming on his lips. The Donna's knife trails over the counter before going up Harry's arm. It drifts over the thin material of his shirt, just bearly tearing it. Harry's chest puffs up and down as the weapon dips into his collar and adds cruel pressure to the skin. The green-eyed man jumps, hands bracing Louis' hips. Louis unbuttons the rest of his shirt.

"I'm thinking of something small, but right here." He taps the blade to the left of Harry's chest by one of the swallows, right over his heart. "It's tempting to cut deeper than I intend." Louis licks his lips, eyes scanning over Harry's body, falling on the smallest bit of stubble on his chin. "Very tempting, but..."

"Fucking do it."

Louis' eyebrows shoot up. "Pardon?"

"If that's what it costs for you to take me back," Harry leans back, offering the delicate skin of his chest. "I'll do anything."

Louis laughs loud and humourlessly. "Who said my offer still stood?"

Harry glares, "Actions speak louder than words; and you had this room booked, and you let me touch you."

"I can let whoever I want to touch me, and in terms of the room, I have another appointment."

"Do you?" Harry licks his lips, digging his nails into Louis' waist. "I thought you hated liars. Tell me the truth, darling." Harry was being consistent, one of these times, Louis will cave and Harry could ravish him. Patience and persistence were key.

"I—" Louis' breath hitches when Harry pulls him closer, his bottom firmly cupped in his ring clad hands.

"Who were you going to meet?" Harry asks, nosing along the skin of Louis' jaw, hating the turtleneck he was wearing. Harry wanted to mark him with bites. Louis doesn't answer, far too invested in basking in Harry's warmth and tender touches. "No need to lie, doll, I know you still want me. You miss me." Harry says, "Just mark me, I know you want to."

"Still don't know what to put." Louis pulls away and taps the tip of the knife on Harry's skin.

"Your name," Harry says with as much confidence as he can muster. "I'll wear your name."

Louis chuckles softly, grazing the knife down Harry's chest. "You don't deserve my name on you, not now." He eyes the hairs between the man's pecs. Then, he starts without another word about what he'll carve into Harry's skin.

"Have you done this before?" Harry winces at the pressure of the tip piercing his skin.

"I've done worse than this, darling." Louis breathes. "I've carved names, addresses, even quotes into people's skin. They're like walking billboards and warnings for anyone who crosses me. And you've crossed me." Louis presses harder, Harry hisses. "One wrong move and this knife will be in your heart."

Harry chuckles, eyes shut as the numbing pain spreads over his chest. "Funny, Foxglove. Trying to scare me away?" He taps his fingers on Louis' hips. "Hate to break it to you, but I'm not going anywhere. I'm pretty content with staying with you."

Louis' free hand is on Harry's shoulder, the leather cold on his skin. The Donna moves his gaze for a moment, from the small cursive 'L' on Harry's chest to his eyes. "If you're searching for excitement, this is a terrible idea for an adrenaline rush. Do you realize you will rewrite your entire future, the one you've been working towards for years?"

"I have enough things to fill those new pages" Harry tilts his head, hair falling to the side. "I'll still be me, just different."

Different meant plenty of things. Harry was going to be a criminal, an accomplice to one of the most high-profile men in the country. He was going to dive headfirst into the unknown, dip his hands in the blood and sin of Louis' world because he was no longer a visitor, he was a resident.

NOTE: this chapter has been in my drafts since the last update, i just never got around to editing it. i hope you enjoyed this update. thoughts ?