Song: 5 Seconds of Summer - Teeth

pre-note: introducing a new character ! He's a cute blond, a fake blond.
Any votes for side pairings (ziam, ziall or niam)?

To those it may concern: I did not ask if you don't like what Louis wears—please keep your negativity to yourself 😌

"Hello? Mr. Styles?"

Harry's blood runs cold. "Mr. Spade, I-I don't think that's a good idea."

Shivers rush over his skin when fingers touch his bareback, trailing down as the owner slips between him and the front door. Louis' hands cradle his face, "Don't crush his dreams." His hair is messy and his features carry a warm morning glow.

"Why would I invite him up when I have you here?" One of Harry's hands slip under the fabric that hung over Louis' shoulders, he touches the lace and snaps the band against Louis' skin.

"I'll give you a little treat." Louis' eyes twinkle.

"Always bribery with you."

"It's the only thing that seems to work," The Donna's lip quirks up. "You're going invite him up and give him his interview. I want to see how well you play into your Agent Styles role."

"I've got to take care of you, doll." Harry tries once again. He'd rather spend the early hours with Louis, than Dakota Spade. "Especially after last night—"

"I said no, Harry." Louis' face goes cold. His smile is replaced with a thin line and his arms were crossed over his chest protectively. "Do your interview." Then he's walking away into Harry's bedroom, hips swaying and slamming the door.

Harry runs a hand through his hair. Louis gave him that glimpse of vulnerability and Harry was motivated to discover more of it. He wanted to know everything about him, including all of his horrible deeds because vulnerability opened room for growth and intimacy.

He stares longingly at the closed door at the end of the hallway then presses the button on the wall. "All right, Mr. Spade, c'mon up."

Now, the two men sat across from each other. Mr. Spade on the couch, Harry in the leather armchair. Two cups of steaming coffee on the table. "Over the years, I've interviewed plenty of people who all have their own personal concepts about organized crime." Mr. Spade grips his pen, pressing it to the open page of his notebook. "Have you heard of the myth of a mafioso?"

"I haven't." Harry sits back, crossing his ankle over his knee.

"Well, it's about the role of a mafioso, a Don, being a brave man of honour who spreads his wealth whenever he can."

"People believe that?"

Mr. Spade shrugs, writing in his notebook. "Some do, others think the mafia is full of greedy and arrogant people who galavant above us, thirsting for personal gain. After all, they preach about justice in their oppressed world, but where's the justice for the people who suffer under their power?"

Harry eyes the recorder on the table, the red light blinking. "What do you believe?"

"I believe there is always going to be evil because, without it, how could we know what good is?" The grey-haired man says thoughtfully. "The mafia can be an example of that evil. The unlawful, the unhinged, but everything they do is with class. I'd say that's what separates them from the rest of the crime. It's fascinating, they hold this golden entitlement." Mr. Spade's lips stretch into a grin. "Nothing can stop them."

"Why does that make you smile?" Harry inquires cautiously. "Shouldn't that scare you? A union without any limits, and all the firearms and money in the world along with an army of malicious assassins. You're a mere average man."

Mr. Spade chuckles, "I've always been interested in the mafia. I remember watching the news as a child and anticipating any story about organized crime. Which is also why I moved to Los Angeles in the first place, to observe firsthand one of the most famous families in the world, La Puissance."

Harry watches Mr. Spade write in his notebook. The man was an expert in crime and criminals, he must love what he did.

"They have all these connections that span across the globe into any big company. Hell, some people would be surprised to know that most of the money circling in the economy is from the mafia. Did you know that?"

"I did."

"Oh, of course. I seem to forget that working in the La Puissance case opens you to the secrets." Mr. Spade's eyes meet Harry's. "Makes me wonder, what else do you know?"

"Anything within my work is classified." Harry crosses his arms. "I'm sure you are aware that I am an agent of the law, and it would not only go against my contract but my morals to tell you anything about the case."

"So you'd say you're a man of morals?" The author straightens his posture, his crisp black button up is tucked into his slacks.

"I would," Harry answers, glancing down the hall at his bedroom door. "But I would also say that morals can change. How you value something and what your principles are. I think if you go through a certain challenge or," he looks down at his hands, "or if you meet someone new who has different standards. Your own code can alter to theirs."

"That's a strange perspective considering your profession makes you stick by strict guidelines." The man fixes his glasses.

"I have a life outside of my work, Mr. Spade."

"And it sounds different from this persona you carry with your badge and gun."

"Are you insinuating something?" Harry remains calm. The last thing he wants is to sweat profusely and show how uneasy he was.

"Not at all, Mr. Styles." The author holds up both hands, he glances at his notebook in his lap. "When you moved here from New York, were you expecting to make one of the biggest arrests in Los Angeles history?"

"No. Now that I have, I didn't know my life would change this much." Harry gulps. "I feel like soon, I'll be a completely different person."

"How has your life changed?"

How hasn't Harry's life changed? Here he was, giving an interview to a famous author about putting a most wanted criminal behind bars. His loyalty and acting skills were being put to the test. For help, Harry tries to think like the old him. "I've completely indulged myself in my work, more than I already did. I feel desperate for any clue which leads to sleepless nights. Obviously, my days consist of ignoring the press who have seemed to camp outside my office every day." Harry replies, his mind drifting.

"What about deeper than just the surface? How do you feel about this milestone?"

Harry scoffs lightly, surely it was a milestone. It was a fork in the road and Harry was taking the darkest route. "It's like I'm forcing myself to accept that this is how things are going to be now. I feel like I have no choice but to go with it..." he tugs on a loose thread on his pants, "and break barriers that I've built myself."

"Barriers?"

"You know, the line between work and pleasure." Harry quickly answers. "It's blurred now, I didn't know my work would become my life but now it is. I'm drowning in it all and everything that I do is going against everything I've ever known."

Mr. Spade frowns. "Peculiar. Sounds like you're going through a dramatic change."

"I am." Harry grabs his mug off the table, taking a long sip. "Next question?"

"Hm," the man flips a few pages, "How did you feel when La Reine escaped?"

"Well, I was knocked unconscious," Harry points to his slit brow, "that was when I got this. Though, after seeing my failure plastered on every screen in the city, it only made me more determined."

The interview continues and Harry thinks he plays his role perfectly. He answers Mr. Spade's questions, keeping it vague yet descriptive in order to drag on the time. The author seems satisfied when he finishes off his coffee and stands from the couch. He gathers his belongings and meets Harry at the door, tripping over a pair of red pumps. "Company?"

Harry laughs, hoping it doesn't sound as forced as it was. "Uh, yeah. They're sleeping."

"Oh, my apologies for taking up that quality time." The man steps out the door, holding out a hand. "Thank you very much for inviting me in, Mr. Styles. Your feature is exactly what I needed for my novel."

"No problem." Harry shakes his hand. "Have a good flight, safe travels."

Mr. Spade thanks him again, walking down the hall towards the elevator with a final wave. Harry shuts the door with a heavy sigh. Pressing his forehead to the wood, he could almost celebrate. He's proud of himself.

"Forcing yourself?" Louis says as soon as Harry enters. The Donna is facing the window, a cigarette dangling from between his fingers. "Never once did I think I was making you go against your will. I was clearly wrong."

"I thought you were quitting." Harry eyes the open packet on the windowsill.

"I thought you wanted this." Louis turns around, one eyebrow raised. "If you don't want to continue, I know plenty of men who will jump at the opportunity to be with me."

Harry clenches his jaw, the thought of Louis being with someone else made his blood boil. "It was all an act, Foxglove." He steps further into the room and towards the blue-eyed man.

"Sounded genuine to me." Louis moves before Harry could touch him. "Am I not giving you a choice? Have I not given you multiple exits for you to flee and continue with your perfect life?" Louis stabs the cigarette in the button-up on the dresser, keeping eye contact as it burns through the fabric. "Tell me, amuse me, why don't you. What you said out there, that was the truth, your honest feelings."

Louis was right. In every sense, Harry was terrified about everything going on. It was new, and he was inexperienced. He needed to change who he was because there was no other option. It was a recipe for defeat or success, no in-between.

"What do you expect, Louis?" Harry ignores his ruined workshirt. "What we're doing, how I'm changing, there isn't a manual. The only problem is that you know what you're doing, and I know nothing. Everything you say, everything you teach me, it's—" He huffs, sitting on the unmade bed with his head in his hands, "it's frustrating because I can't mess up, there is no room for mistakes because if I miscalculate or slip up, I'm going to lose you." He admits.

"And you won't let me care for you," Harry adds. "I just want to know you."

Louis is quiet, features unreadable and hands braced on the dresser. He's looking down, hair covering most of his face. "I've told you about me."

"But I want to explore you myself. You have to let me close, baby. Don't shut me out." Harry stands, walking to the Donna's rigid frame. "It's okay to be scared of things," Harry reaches for Louis but hesitates. "Of all people, I'd be the last person to judge you."

"I am not scared of things." Louis sneers, glaring up at him. "I'm scared of myself because I'm not scared anymore."

Harry wants to wrap Louis in his arms, but the blazing look in his eyes has Harry keeping his hands to himself.

"Fear keeps us alive, the looming presence of danger is how the human species has survived. I've somehow lost that fear." Louis snarls, "When you lose fear, you're running wild in a battlefield without protection and instincts to keep you alive. I could risk it all and not blink an eye." He crumbles, lips turning into a deep frown and eyes dropping to the floor. "And that puts you in danger."

"I can protect myself." Harry frowns. "I can protect you too. Start realizing that I'm equal to you. I'm not someone you have to pet and nurture. One day, it's going to be us, La Puissance against the world and you can't conquer when you have a dog to train."

Harry needed that credibility and Louis needed to know that he was going to do everything to gain that accountability and take his rightful spot at the top of the food chain. Harry was going to win this game and any challenge that arises.

Entering the La Puissance residence without spitting threats or begging was a refreshing change. Harry drives through the gates, parking his Tesla by the other cars and slowly gets out. The dry dirt crunches under his shoes. It had been a few days since his interview with Dakota, now Harry was right on time for his first day of training. Yesterday at work, Harry found out Louis had climbed his way to number two on Interpol's most wanted and he's currently the FBI's most wanted criminal—meaning that every day, Harry and Liam have meetings online with other agents around the world about information and leads they've collected.

The family mansion was quiet. It made him wonder if there was anyone even inside. He assumed there'd be gunshots or chatter polluting the air.

"Aye, newbie! Let's go!"

There's a blond man poking his head out from a large SUV. Harry blinks and points to himself.

"Who else would I be talking to?" The man retorts.

"Horan, I will always question why you insist on making the worst first impressions."

Harry almost snaps his neck to look at Louis who was descending the front steps. He was wearing a lace slip dress, his skin showing through the holes and high slit. It hugged his curves, as most of his clothes did, and Harry licked his lips at the sight. Louis stopped before him, standing in his high black pumps.

Louis' Outfit: Marques'Almeida, Gucci and Christian Louboutin

"Looking beautiful as always, Foxglove." Harry compliments, hands immediately finding home on Louis' hips.

"Merci, daddy." Louis' red laced fingertips drag along Harry's slight stubble, "I'm a fan of you wearing anything, or if the occasion calls for it, nothing."

"Provocative." Harry dips down, capturing Louis' lips. Something as simple as kissing fills Harry with joy, he hums happily and licks Louis' lip. The Donna allows him entrance, hands resting on Harry's shoulders as he deepens the kiss. It's exhilarating as always, Harry drinks Louis in like he's an addict. Kissing him with hard, slow and sensual movements, digging his fingers into Louis' waist.

The honking of a horn as them both pulling away. Harry is pleased with his work, Louis' cheeks were pink and his lips are a little swollen. He takes Louis' hand, leading them to the car and opens the passenger door. Louis gets in and Harry bends down, pressing a lingering kiss to his knuckles before shutting the door.

"Have fun snacking on his lips, Louis?" The blond asks.

Harry opens the back door and gets in. "Louis, hm? I thought that name was reserved for partners and blood-relatives only."

"It is," Louis confirms, running his fingers through his hair.

"Oh, so this blondie is your cousin or something?" Harry leans over the center console as the car begins moving, driving away from the mansion.

Louis giggles and Horan answers, "nope. Guess again, training wheels."

"Bullshit." Harry snorts, looking out the window. He waits for Louis' reassurance but it never comes. His jaw falls slack. "You two—together?"

"Why is that hard to believe?"

Harry's face is screwed in distaste. "Why is that hard to believe?" He mocks.

"Child much?" Horan provokes.

Louis steps in, somewhat fuelling the fire. "Harry gets jealous easily."

Horan tsks. "Lacking self-control. You should break that habit."

"Why do I need to listen to you?" Harry says grumpily.

"You should learn to control yourself and your emotions. Your anger or jealousy can blind you from your goals. You definitely don't want to throw a tantrum during a meeting or when you're dealing with someone." Louis whistled. "I've been there, the man called my shoes hideous and I chopped his finger off instead of just snapping the bone."

"Not only is it embarrassing but also makes you a liability." Horan finishes. "Nothing in this business is worse than a fault. You can essentially put the whole family on the line and with that, comes the fall of the empire."

They arrive at a secluded warehouse. After driving through the heavy gates and parking the car, they all get out. There are a few cars in the lot, and men and women scattered around the property. Harry meets Horan and Louis at the front door. He goes to hold Louis' hand but is interrupted when his phone rings.

The Donna excuses himself. Stepping away and answering the call, "Bonjour."

"Well then, we'll leave him to his privacy." Horan leads them past the large doors and inside. Immediately they're stopped by a brunette until she realizes who they are and lets them pass. Horan walks down the hall, Harry stealing glances at the array of hung photographs and the small windows into other rooms, but they were all heavily tinted.

"This is our gym which is where you'll be trained until we deem you physically fit and well educated enough to handle other things."

"Other things?"

"Yep, the shooting range is outside and weaponry training is downstairs," Horan answers and stops at a door, looking at Harry's attire. "You have no clue what you're in for." The blond shakes his head, laughing.

"What?"

"You're wearing slacks and loafers." Horan points at Harry's feet. "You expect to train in that?"

Harry's Outfit: Gucci and imogene + willie (photo credits to owner)

Harry looks down at his t-shirt tucked into loose grey pants. He tugs at his bandana and taps his foot on the ground. "Louis didn't specify what we were doing today."

"You'll find out soon." The blond replies. "You're lucky Louis thought in advance. He probably knows you tend to be more dressed up than necessary." He opens the door, allowing Harry to peek inside. "This is one of the changing rooms, a locker is already assigned to you so just search for your name." It was a room with lines of lockers, a hallway and a wall of glass doors. "Toilets are down there and over there are the showers, you can use it after our session, or maybe you would prefer the spa if you want to treat yourself."

Harry finds his locker and changes into the sneakers, basketball shorts and plain t-shirt. He puts his bandana in his hair to keep it away from his face and leaves the changing room, bumping into a short curvy man.

"You look delicious." Louis' eyes cascade down Harry's lean and muscular body, stopping at the small tent in his shorts.

Harry pushes Louis against the wall. "Want a taste?"

"If I get a taste now," The Donna's hand trails down, lightly tracing over Harry's member, "you'll be too spent to even train."

"I doubt that. My stamina is incredible." Harry's tone deepens, he thrusts into Louis' open palm. "The sexual frustration you give me could be used to power a city."

"I'd want nothing more than to drop to my knees, but we have plans." Louis lets Harry use his hand. The agent has fists braced on the wall, head thrown back as quiet moans fall from his mouth.

Every time he's near Louis, Harry feels heat in his stomach but this moment, it was intensified. "When the mood strikes, I'm ruining you. Going to map out your body and make you feel like you're on clouds, baby." Reluctantly, he steps away. He adjusts himself in his shorts, wincing slightly.

"Can't wait, daddy." Louis walks off as Harry follows. "Today, we'll do basic combat in the ring without weapons." Louis leads Harry past the large double doors into a warehouse-sized room.

The walls were tall with a second floor visible through large glass windows. It looked like an office or private room. Harry's footsteps follow after Louis' on the concrete floor as they pass a bar of sorts by the entrance and designated spots for specific workout equipment. There were treadmills and weights, and red mats on the walls and ground of one of the back corners.

A square boxing ring was stationed in the middle. It stood almost four feet off the ground with red and blue opposite corners, a thick rope lining the perimeter, and three stairs led to the entrance. Horan was already there.

"Niall, here, will be your trainer." Louis gestures to the blond who was already in the ring. He was dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. "I know you've done boxing before but have you ever put those skills to a test? After warming up, you'll verse Niall."

"Verse?"

"Sparring, if you will." Louis traces over the tattoos on Harry's arm. He licks his lips. "And I get a front-row seat to it all."

First, they start off with simple boxing. Harry has his hands wrapped before putting on the gloves, he lands precise punches to Niall's padded hands. It isn't long until he begins sweating from dodging and adding a few kicks into the mix, he does everything Niall says. After sparring, they move onto heavier moves with more power. Not enough to injure each other, but enough to make each other sore.

Halfway through the session, Harry slips off his shirt. Now he was defending himself without gloves since Louis had called at him to take them off. His knuckles were red and probably bruised from the intensity of the fight. Harry loves it all though, the pain in his chest from constantly pushing his muscles to the edge.

Working out was one of his favourite things to do and with Louis' gaze on his body, Harry felt the need to show off. So he did. He hit Niall a little harder, experimenting with moves. He even tries to study Niall's technique and use it to his advantage, it isn't easy and lands him on the ground more than a few times. After a few rounds, Harry feels like he was getting the hang of it, he observes the man from behind his fists and anticipates his moves. With that method, he lands himself a few more victories.

"What about you, Foxglove?" Harry pants, chest heaving as sweat drips down the expanse of his nude torso. "Care to step in?"

"Training wheels," Niall interrupts from the left corner of the ring, he was holding a water bottle and towel. Amusement was written over his features. "I think it's in your best interest to not tempt Louis to step into the ring—"

"C'mon, baby," Harry taunts, ignoring Niall's call of I warned you in favour of throwing a wink in Louis' direction. "Show me what you got."

"I love your confidence, darling, but don't provoke me." Louis crosses his legs, "You'd wish you hadn't."

Harry leans on the rope surrounding the ring. His eyes trail over Louis' bare skin and to the top of the slit of his dress. "Is that so? Or, you think I'll beat you, doll?"

Louis clasps his lace-clad hands over his lap, he rolls his eyes. "I don't need to prove myself to you."

"Hm, you're such poised little thing," Harry jeers, propping his chin on his hand, "all high and mighty, observing from your velvet throne, but you're really just shy and submissive. No need to pretend you're a tiger when you're just a kitten." It was relishing to turn Louis' words against himself, even calling him something as small and delicate as a kitten. Harry smirks when Louis stands.

"Bringing back that nickname now, are you? Niall, step out the ring." Louis takes off his heels and lace gloves before swiftly entering the ring. His tanned skin and golden hair glow in the bright lights.

Harry grins, the excitement making him giddy. Louis was smaller than him, but he packed quite the strength and expertise. Although Harry has been hitting the gym harder ever since they split up, it was a way to channel and release his anger.

After he and Louis got back together, he just never stopped. His life was embedded in his new schedule. He was pleased with his thicker biceps, broader shoulders, more defined abs and increased stamina. With all his nerve and muscle gain, he expects to win against the short Donna with little to no effort. In fact, he was counting on it.

Harry could see it now, pinning Louis down on the floor with both his hands. His hips flush between Louis' thighs, the Donna will give in at the first thrust. Louis may hold power over Harry, but Harry knew how to get his way. Louis was bound to grow weak against him and if the fight leads to something more, then so be it. Even with their audience, Harry was going to claim whatever Louis offered.

Louis stands opposite of him. Feet spread shoulders width apart, knees bent and electric eyes locked on Harry. "Don't go easy on me, daddy."

Harry chuckles, cracking his knuckles. "Oh trust me, Foxglove, I won't."

Louis was fast, but not fast enough. He swings up his leg and aims high for Harry's head but his kick is caught. Harry's fingers wrap around Louis' thin ankle, glaring at him. He tries to stay focused despite Louis' flexibility swarming his mind. "A knock-out kick?" Harry muses. "Oh, how kind of you to start off slow—"

Louis jumps up and twists his body. Harry blocks the other foot that comes flying at him, the hard kick collides on his forearm. Louis lands on the floor with a thud and quickly swipes his leg under Harry. The green-eyed man crashes to the ground, breath yanked from his lungs. Harry's head and back throbs, but he has no time to heal because Louis' fist appears before his nose, giving him less than a second to roll out of the way. Louis' fist lands in the previous spot occupied by Harry's face, a cloud of dust materializing from the sheer force of the punch.

Harry clambers to his feet, jaw dropped. "Doll, what the fuck?"

Louis has his back facing Harry. He peeks over his shoulder and offers Harry a sly wink. "I'm not going easy either." He chimes. "Just because you find me attractive doesn't mean you shouldn't hit me a little harder."

Harry blinks in disbelief. He was embarrassed and absolutely shocked by Louis' speed and energy. "I haven't even hit you."

Louis turns to the exit, laughing quietly. "See? Now your ego is wounded. There's whiskey at the bar if you're looking to drink your shame away."

This was unfair. If Louis was going all out, so was Harry.

He lunges at the Donna, wrapping his arms around Louis' neck from behind and holding him tight. His grip doesn't last for long, soon a sharp elbow lands in Harry's gut, he groans and staggers back into the rope barricades. He takes a breather, wincing at the ache in his middle. He gasps when Louis charges at him, Harry twists out of the way before swinging back and caging the Donna against the rope.

Harry's chest is moving up and down, he inhales deeply and tightens his hold on Louis' wrists. "You caught me off guard."

"The element of surprise mixes perfectly with misjudgement," Louis leans back and hikes his leg high on Harry's hip, "especially in combat."

Harry gets lost in his eyes, the sapphire pulls him into a deep pool. "You're captivating, Foxglove."

"Captivating enough to make you go against your will, asshole," Louis mutters. "As if I haven't given you multiple outs, not like I'm pressing a pistol to your head and forcing you to stay with me."

"Hm," Harry is in a daze, watching Louis' mouth move, his words not processing yet. Louis had him under a spell and he wouldn't want it any other way.

"Maybe I should hold a gun to your stupid skull."

"Yeah..." Harry hums distracted by Louis' lips, he draws forward. The moment doesn't begin as Louis lands a swift punch to Harry's cheek, sending him stumbling to the middle of the ring. Harry groans, massaging his aching jaw, he could've bitten off his tongue from that hit. He slowly contemplates what Louis said. "Are you still mad?"

"I'm not mad!" Louis snarls, swinging his fist and it collides with Harry's shoulder.

"You sure as hell seem like you are." Harry rolls his eyes. He ducks to avoid another one of Louis' hands and tackles him. They both clatter to the floor in a tangle of sweaty limbs. Harry groans when Louis' knee lands in his crotch, he rolls over and heaves. "Fuck."

Louis goes to stand, but Harry isn't going to allow that. He surges forward, yanking whatever he touches. A loud rip sounds through the air, the black fabric tearing under the strain, Harry gapes. "F-Foxglove, I'm sorry."

Louis looks down at his torn dress, eyes following the long strip of lace that was clenched in Harry's hand.

"You want to play dirty?" Louis reaches down, ripping off the bottom of his dress. It was far shorter now, the black silk material fell above his knees. The slit was high enough to expose the hem of his soft white satin panties. "Because I can definitely play dirty."

"You know, maybe you aren't the little wuss I thought you were."

Harry grits his teeth, applying ice to his throbbing side. "I just got the crap beat out of me by a man who, in comparison, is significantly smaller and more compact." He holds a tissue to his bleeding nose, Louis' elbows were deadly.

Turns out, Louis was still mad. He was pissed if anything. It didn't seem like he held back, but Harry knows he wanted to do far much worse. In other circumstances, Louis could definitely hit harder and pull expert moves. Harry is just glad he could hobble to the changing room without crying. Surely it would take a few days for the bruises to heal, especially the ugly one on his ribs where Louis landed a powerful kick. Now, Harry was aware of how much Louis favoured using his legs in combat, with his flexibility and muscular thighs, he was a monster in the ring.

Niall shrugs, leaning on the doorway with his arms crossed. There was a towel over his shoulder and a headband holding back his blond hair. "True, but you challenged him. Of course, you lost but you held your own. You aren't the first to dare him, but you sure did last the longest out of all the people I've trained." He nods. "That alone says quite a lot."

Harry turns away from the mirror to face Niall. "Does it?"

The blond chuckles. "Don't sound so surprised. You know your capabilities and you probably thought you'd beat Louis."

Harry frowns. "I underestimated him."

"And overestimated yourself," Niall adds. He taps his fingers on the doorway. "With the proper training and skill enhancement, you'll be a parallel challenger to him. You have the potential, we just have to bring it out where everyone can see."

Harry holds back his smile. It boosted his ego to hear someone say he could beat Louis, especially after the embarrassment that destroyed all of his motivation, he needed this encouragement. He craved that satisfaction, Harry needed to grow into the man that Niall was referring to and be Louis' equal, in and out of the ring, he needed to be his lover's only opponent.

Niall tosses him a bottle of painkillers. "Until next time, newbie."

Somewhere between Harry leaving the shower and going to his locker, Louis walked in. His heels echoing off the tiled floor, "are you sulking?"

"No." Harry answers.

Louis sighs dramatically, making a clicking sound with his tongue. "I'm sorry, daddy. Maybe someday you'll win."

"Foxglove, if you're trying to get a rise out of me, good luck." Harry ignores the shiver that flows through his body as Louis' breath fans over his skin. "Your taunting won't do much damage." He turns around, leaning against the wall of lockers.

Louis' eyes trail down his wet body. Over the detail of his tattoos and the definition of his abs and pecs. Water drips down his v-line, disappearing into the white of his towel. Louis smirks seeing the cherry red and purple marks littering Harry's skin. "I think our encounter in the ring did enough damage itself."

Harry glares. "You ought to—"

"I didn't come here to mock you, daddy." Louis kisses the two swallows on Harry's chest. "I came here to give you a treat." Those simple words falling from his intoxicating lips create a tent under Harry's towel.

Louis drops to his knees and unties Harry's towel. His cock perks up in interest, bobbing against his lower stomach with a drop of precum bubbling at the tip. The size had Louis' mouth-watering. Harry was long and thick, and the head was a shade of pink. Louis licks his hand, bringing it to wrap around Harry's member. The girth kept his fingers from touching.

"Too big?" Harry asks smugly.

Louis blinks up at him, lashes fluttering as he suckles on the tip. Harry twitches at the feeling. Louis' tongue gently licking around the head, before he dips further and presses delicate kisses down the shaft, all while keeping eye contact.

Harry tangles his fingers in Louis' hair. "You look so small down there, baby doll."

"Don't make me angry." Louis licks from the base of Harry's rod to the tip, spitting on the head and spreading the wetness with his hand. "I'll use my teeth."

Harry snaps his jaw shut, hypnotized with Louis' bobbing head. His lips are stretched around Harry's erection, cheekbones highlighted in the white lights. Louis' eyes are closed peacefully, exactly the reason why Harry starts pushing his head further on his cock. The Donna's blue eyes shoot open, hand pausing where it was massaging Harry's balls. "I know you can do better than that, don't be shy."

Then Louis pulls off Harry's length. Planting kitten licks along the shaft, paying extra attention to being as messy as possible. It isn't long until Harry's member is an intense carmine, wet and seemingly bigger. "This is your treat that I promised," Louis states, jacking Harry off with one hand and the other squeezes his thigh. "You do whatever you want to me."

A cold breezes fans over Harry's heated skin. "What if I want to bend you over?"

Louis lightly kisses on the tip of his cock, moaning at the taste. "You're only getting my mouth today."

"When the time comes, I'll pin you down, doll." Harry huffs, shifting his hips. "You'll be screaming mercy."

"In the bedroom or in the ring?"

"Both," Harry breathes, forcing Louis' head back down. "Not only going to fuck you in the bedroom, I know you'd take me anywhere."

Louis goes slack, keeping his gaze locked on Harry as his nails dig into the man's thighs. Harry was sweating, cheeks flushed rose and lips bit raw. He groans lowly, his green eyes were a few shades darker and locked on Louis' pretty mouth. Harry thrusts deep, feeling his cock slide down Louis' throat. He was warm and tight, Harry could only dream of how Louis would feel spread out on a mattress.

"I'll worship you, baby. Treat you like the royalty you are." Harry combs his fingers through Louis' hair, watching the Donna's lips enclose around his girth. After one particular harsh thrust, Louis gags and the noise only edges Harry on further. He tightens his hold on Louis' head, snapping his hips forward.

Louis' eyes water, one of his hands reaching between his own thighs to palm at his erection. "So heavenly. Letting daddy use you like this. Can I go deeper?"

Louis nods, he tries to at least.

"Thank you, baby. So good for me." Harry growls, rolling his hips to successfully choke Louis on his meat. He holds him there, watching the red wash over his cheeks and down his neck. As darkness clouds his mind, Harry wants to make the Donna a desperate mess. He wants to decide whether Louis reached his release and how he did. Harry wanted to control Louis, the leader, the Queen. Louis was going to be Harry's only priority. "I told you that you were submissive. So beautiful, Foxglove. You're a daydream." It was a filthy exchange but Harry managed to keep it soft.

Louis would've replied with a snarky comeback, but his lips were occupied. "No need to hide. I know you just want to be my babydoll." He keeps Louis head in a tight grip, feeling his throat constrict around his cock.

One tear slips from Louis' eye, his face is coloured a bright scarlet and his nails pierce through Harry's skin, nearly drawing blood. Returning to reality, Harry releases him, watching him gasp for air. "Louis, fuck, I'm sorry." Harry drops to the floor, afraid to touch the man. "Are you okay? I don't know what came over me."

"Oh please," The Donna's voice sounds wreaked, "that's the real you. Always radiating dominance, but not suffocating. You just subconsciously doubt yourself."

Harry gulps, wiping the stray tear from Louis' face. "I'm sorry."

Louis makes Harry stand again and remains on his knees. "Daddy, use that leverage and make everyone bow down." Louis licks obscenely at the throbbing length before him. Even taking one of Harry's balls in his mouth, moving his hand up and down the thickness.

"Fucking beast." Louis murmurs just before Harry's shaft enters his mouth again. The sheer size was almost concerning, and Harry had a hidden wild side that could make anyone weak, Louis included.

Harry resumes to his thrusts, moaning loudly at the pleasure coursing through his body. He listens to Louis' chokes and muffled whimpers. Harry's eyes fall shut, sweat dripping down his chest as his stomach tightens. His thighs tense and his hands yank at Louis' hair. He comes with his heavy tip weighing on Louis' tongue.

"Fucking hell." Harry's legs quiver, feeling the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Louis doesn't stand, he keeps his lips sealed around Harry's cock. Blue eyes blinking up at the tall and broad man above him. Louis hums, pulling away with a string of saliva between his lips and the tip of Harry's shaft. He leans back and opens his mouth, revealing the thick cum. He takes Harry's cock as the man whines, tapping it on his cum covered tongue, giving the head a final kiss before swallowing.

"Holy shit," Harry whispers under his breath. "That was so worth the wait."

Louis drags his fingers around his lips, collecting the saliva and sucking on his fingers. "I enjoyed that side of you, daddy." He stands, lifting his dress to show the wetness in his satin panties. "I'd love to meet him again."

NOTE: feel free to follow my twitter @/oflarryent !! i hope you all enjoyed this update, thank you for being patient with me :^) i worked on this update for longer than i anticipated, but don't worry, i have the outline for the next chapter. it should be out soon !! thoughts ?