Kinda ate with this one ngl

100 comments for an update :)

Louis entered the dimly lit factory, his boots echoing off the cracked concrete floor. The warehouse was grey, almost misty

A low, melodic whistle broke the silence. It was deliberate, almost playful.

Louis froze, his eyes darting around the room, searching for the source.

"Looking for me?" the voice was smooth, teasing.

Louis' heart skipped, a familiar tension creeping into his chest as he caught sight of Harry perched above him against the stair railings, that mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Louis gritted his teeth, dashing forward; Harry was gone before he reached the stairs. Louis blinked, turning around. His eyes flickered around for any sign of movement. He caught a flash of white and lunged toward it, but his hand caught only air.

Robin let out a frustrated huff, turning again.

"Feisty today, aren't we?" Harry teased, stepping out from the shadows with a sly grin.

Louis didn't reply. Without warning, he charged forward, swinging a punch with all his force. Harry ducked under the first strike, and Louis followed through with a second, aiming for Harry's side. Harry stepped back, but Louis closed the distance, his body tense and focused. He swung at Harry again, almost catching him.

"Look at you," Harry remarked, dodging another blow. "You've been practising."

Harry launched himself forward with a speed that took Louis by surprise. The fight was on.

They collided. Each movement was swift and calculated, both trying to outmanoeuvre the other. Louis wasn't holding back. They grappled, slipping and sliding on the cold floor, punches and kicks thrown with precision. But no matter how hard Louis tried, Harry always seemed to anticipate his moves, always one step ahead.

Louis pushed back, gritting his teeth as Harry's taunting grin remained. Louis dove at him again and Harry leant into it this time, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Louis found himself straddling Harry's waist, his legs on either side of Harry's hips. Louis placed a hand on Harry's chest to steady himself, breathing hard.

"What can I say?" Harry asked, a taunting grin curling on his lips, his hands went to rest lazily on Louis' hips. "You caught me."

Louis opened his mouth to speak, but frustration twisted in his throat. He shifted his weight, trying to stand, but Harry's hand went to tug at the hem of his T-shirt. "You can't—" Louis stuttered, the words betraying him. "You're not meant to let me catch you."

Harry's grin only deepened as he met Louis' gaze, his voice dropping low, a playful challenge in his tone. "Why not, sweetheart?" he asked, his fingers went to Louis' collar, pulling him closer. "You've got me right where you want me, don't you?"

Louis felt the heat creeping up his neck as Harry's grip pulled him closer still. "Th—that's just not how it works," he managed, voice unsteady.

Harry raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Then why don't you show me how it works?" he offered, his voice low, smooth. He tugged at the collar of Louis' collar, pulling him down so that their faces were inches apart. "How you work."

Louis' breath hitched at the proximity, his lips almost grazing Harry's.  "What do you mean?" he whispered.

Harry's grin deepened, and his grip on Louis' collar tightened. "You know what I mean," he purred. "How do you work, sweetheart? How do you get the job done?"

Louis' chest tightened. Harry's fingers brushed against the skin of his neck; it prickled under his touch.

"You want to, don't you?" Harry asked. "You want to kiss me."

Louis pulled back instinctively, but Harry's other hand shot out, gripping the fabric of his shirt and pulling him right back down. "Don't deny it," Harry murmured, his lips brushing against Louis' skin. "I can feel it. I can feel it in every inch of you."

"Stop," Louis whispered. His hands pushed against Harry's chest, but he didn't have the strength to pull away. "Stop it," he pleaded.

Harry's lips brushed against Louis' ear as he leaned in, his voice dripping with mockery. "Are you embarrassed, Louis? Are you embarrassed about being here with the bad guy?" he taunted, his breath hot against Louis' skin.

Louis flushed a deep red, his heart hammering in his chest at Harry's words. He opened his mouth to protest, but Harry didn't let him speak.

"Whatever would Batman think of this?" Harry's voice was thick with amusement. "Getting so close to the enemy."

Louis' lips parted, a retort ready on his tongue, but the only thing that came out was a low exhale. His mind struggled to process it all. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," he said finally. "It's all part of my plan."

Harry raised an eyebrow, his smirk never fading. "Did you plan on getting hard?" he asked, his hips grinding up into Louis, pressing against him in a way that made Louis' breath catch. Louis lost his balance, palm slipping from Harry's chest momentarily.

"Do-don't do that," Louis stammered, his voice betraying him, uneven and raw.

Harry's hand went back to his hip., his grin growing. "I'll take that as a no," he teased, his hands sliding up Louis' body. "I did that to you all by myself."

"Harry, do—"

"Mmm," The Joker moaned, cutting him off, his lips brushing just below Louis' ear. "Say my name again," he purred. "Sounds so lovely when you say it."

Louis pulled back, his lips pressed tightly together in defiance.

"Stubborn one, aren't you?" Harry observed, his voice full of amusement.

Louis tried to push himself off Harry, tried to stand, but Harry's grip on his shirt held him in place. "Not so fast," he murmured, a devilish glint in his eyes.

"Get off of me" Louis snapped, voice firm as he tried to break free.

"Now why would I do that?" Harry asked, still lying beneath him, enjoying every moment of control.

"Because I need to go," Louis replied, trying to free himself.

Harry chuckled. "But, darling, you came to me."

Louis hesitated for a moment, then answered truthfully. "And now I need to go home."

Finally, Harry let go of Louis' collar, allowing him the freedom to stand. Louis wasted no time, jumping to his feet, his chest still heaving from the struggle.

"I win," Louis declared, his voice steady, but the adrenaline still coursing through him.

"How so?" Harry asked, watching Louis with that same gleam in his eyes.

"I'm free, aren't I?" Louis stated, voice soft but confident. "You couldn't catch me."

Harry chuckled, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You let me go," he said smoothly. "You had me right beneath you, and you let me go," he leaned back against the cold floor, his smirk widening. "I won you over," he insisted, his hands stretching up and going to rest behind his head. "I'd call that a win to me."

Louis' nose twitched.

Without another word, Louis turned on his heel, his heart still racing as he sprinted toward the exit. Harry's laughter echoed behind him, a reminder that this wasn't over, not by a long shot.

***

The rain drizzled steadily, washing the grime from Gotham's industrial rooftops. Louis crouched next to Liam, his hood pulled low over his face. He could feel the cold seep through his boots, the dampness making every movement heavier.

"You're late," Liam said without turning, his eyes trained on the alley below.

"Had a rough morning," Louis muttered, pulling his hood tighter against the rain.

Liam glanced at him briefly, his sharp eyes narrowing. "You good?"

"I'm fine," Louis replied quickly.

Liam looked him over for a moment but said nothing. "Down there," he murmured, nodding toward the alley below.

Louis followed his brother's gaze. The black van idling near the side door was unmistakable. A group of men worked quickly, hauling crates into the building under the cover of darkness.

"Sullivan's crew," Liam said quietly, his voice cutting through the rain.

"Think he's inside?" Louis asked.

"Doubt it. He doesn't get his hands dirty," Liam replied, his tone clipped. "But if we take these guys out, we might get the lead we need."

Louis shifted, rolling his shoulders to shake off the stiffness creeping in. His body ached from the morning's encounter with Harry, but he forced himself to focus.

"What's in the crates?" he asked.

"Could be weapons. Could be cash," Liam said, scanning the scene. "Either way, we're stopping them."

"Plan?" Louis prompted, already inching toward the edge of the roof.

"You take the driver. Quietly," Liam instructed, his tone steady and calm. "I'll handle the rest."

Louis hesitated for a moment, his fists clenching at his sides.

"You good?" Liam asked, his voice softer now.

"Yeah," Louis replied, nodding. "I'm fine."

Liam glanced at him, his expression unreadable behind the mask. Then he turned back to the scene below. "Go."

Louis dropped silently into the alley, landing in a crouch. The driver stood near the van, smoking a cigarette and oblivious to the figure approaching from the shadows.

Louis moved quickly, his footsteps light despite the wet pavement. He grabbed the driver in a chokehold, dragging him into the shadows. The man struggled briefly before going limp.

"Driver's down," Louis whispered into his comm.

"Stay sharp," Liam replied.

The remaining crew had no time to react as Liam dropped into their midst like a shadow. He took the first man down with a swift strike to the back of the knee, following it up with a precise elbow to the temple. The second man swung a crowbar at him, but Liam sidestepped effortlessly, disarming him with a sharp twist before knocking him unconscious with a single punch.

The third man reached for a gun, but before he could raise it, a batarang flew through the air, striking his hand and sending the weapon clattering to the ground. Liam closed the distance in an instant, his cape swirling around him as he delivered a powerful kick to the man's chest.

Louis approached as the last of Sullivan's men hit the ground with a heavy thud; Liam straightened, his cape sweeping dramatically behind him. Louis kicked a crowbar out of reach from one of the unconscious men, surveying the scene.

"Clean work," Liam complimented.

"Thanks."

Liam turned to him, his gaze cutting through the dim light. "You sure you're okay?"

"I said I'm fine," Louis snapped.

Liam studied him for a moment,  his jaw tightening. "Alright. Let's just get this done."

Louis nodded, glancing at the scattered bodies. "That's all of them?"

"That's all of them," Batman confirmed. "Let's see what they were carrying."

The brothers moved quickly toward the stacked crates, their muddy boots squelching against the cold, damp floor of the warehouse building. Liam reached the first crate, prying it open with ease. Louis kept watch, his fists clenching as Liam worked.

Louis leaned forward when the lid creaked off—but a hollow space greeted them. Nothing. 

"This doesn't make sense," Liam muttered as he moved to another crate, ripping it open with more force this time. Empty.

Louis frowned, stepping forward. "What were we expecting to find here?"

"Anything," Batman replied. "Money, weapons," he listed. "Based on the intel from Niall, Sullivan was stockpiling arms. They were supposed to be here. Something is supposed to be in her"

Liam opened another crate, his frustration mounting with each empty box.

"Looks like he moved them," Louis murmured, his eyes darting around. 

"They couldn't have cleared out this fast." Liam tore another box open, throwing it to the floor with force once he saw it was empty.

Louis flinched at the sound, stepping back and looking around the warehouse. Liam hurled crates across the room, kicking them in frustration as one after another turned out to be empty.

"We keep losing!" another crack as a crate hit the floor. "The robberies, now this?"

Louis' eyes landed on one of the open crates and he wandered across the room to peer into it. Something small, a flash of colour, caught his attention.

He moved toward it, crouching low, and picked up a folded piece of paper tucked into the corner of the empty crate.

"Found anything?" Batman asked, glancing over.

Louis nearly flinched, too distracted to notice Liam had finished smashing the empty crates.

Robin hesitated, his fingers brushing over the paper. His stomach twisted as he unfolded it, his blood running cold at the messy, scrawled handwriting.

Miss me, sweetheart? Better luck next time. 

The smiley face at the bottom was unmistakable.

"Louis?"

He crumpled the note quickly, tucking it into his pocket before Liam could see. "Nothing," he said.

Batman frowned, his eyes narrowing. "You're sure?"

Louis straightened, his expression unreadable as he turned to face Liam. "Yeah."

Liam studied him momentarily but finally turned back to the crates. "This doesn't add up. Why move empty crates? They should be here. Why aren't they here?"

Louis swallowed hard, his fingers tightening in his pocket. "Right. We'll keep looking."

Batman's nose twitched. "Trail's cold," he said finally. "Let's figure it out tomorrow."

Louis sighed but nodded, following Liam out of the warehouse. He'd have to make his own plans for tonight then.

***

The factory was as cold and desolate as always, but tonight it felt different. The lingering scent of rainwater mixed with rust hung heavy in the air as Louis stepped inside. The faint glow of the moon seeped through the shattered windows of the abandoned factory, casting pale streaks of light across the cracked concrete floor. The air was thick and damp, every breath Louis took formed a faint mist.

Louis entered the room with quiet steps. When his eyes finally landed on his target, he realised that The Joker was in the middle of something—spread out before him was a mass of maps and blueprints. He didn't notice Louis approaching, too absorbed in whatever plan consumed his attention.

Louis stepped closer, watching him. He looked different like this, a soft frown on his face as if he were lost in thought.

A slight flicker of Louis' movement caught The Joker's eye and he looked up, a surprised smile appeared on his face.

Louis swallowed.

"Robin."

There was a moment of silence before Louis answered; his voice came out softer than he'd wanted. "Were you expecting someone else?"

"No one else," Harry told him, voice gentle. "Just you."

Louis blinked at him, eyes travelling to the mess of papers on the floor as he inched closer to the villain.

"Twice in one day, sweetheart?" Harry drawled, lounging comfortably on the floor. "Oh, now you're just spoiling me."

Louis' lips almost twisted in amusement. 

"I thought we were done playing for the day," Harry continued, his tone casual but with an edge of curiosity, as though he didn't expect Louis to return so soon.

Louis hesitated, shifting his weight as he finally looked down at Harry. "I can go if you like," he said. His words held a touch of embarrassment.

Harry's smirk only deepened. "I never said that," he tilted his head, his gaze steady on Louis. "Sit. Let's play."

Louis sat cautiously, kneeling opposite Harry, separated by the pile of papers.

Harry watched him, noting the way his wet hair stuck to his face and his drenched clothes clung to his body. "Look at you. All drenched and dramatic," his eyes lingered on the droplets trailing down Louis' jaw. "You make misery look good, sweetheart."

Louis fixed his eyes on the papers scattered around, but he felt his skin heat up at Harry's words. "What monstrosity are you planning this time?"

"Monstrosity?" The Joker repeated. "You're always so judgemental, Robin," he scolded. "I'm making art." he gestured to the scattered maps.

Louis narrowed his eyes at the papers. "Does this art involve innocent people getting hurt?"

"Not innocent," Harry corrected, tapping the charcoal pencil against his temple. "No one is innocent in Gotham. You should know that by now."

"You're planning something," Louis said, his voice firm. "But it won't work. Sullivan's already gone. We dealt with his crew today. You don't have anyone left to do your dirty work."

"Oh, Arnie," The Joker sighed wistfully. "Poor guy. You know, for someone with no imagination, he sure had a lot of potential."

Louis' nose twitched as he listened to Harry talk.

"How did that go, by the way?" Harry asked. "Your little dance with Arnie's crew?"

Louis scowled at him. "You know how it went," he replied. "I saw your note."

Harry grinned. "So you did find my little love letter?" he asked. "Why didn't you say so?" he muttered. "Here I was thinking I should've painted the whole town red for you to notice me," he added. "Did it make your heart race?"

"What was supposed to be in the crates?"

"Nothing was ever in the crates."

Louis blinked at him. "Then what?" he asked. "It was just a distraction? A waste of time?"

Harry leaned closer. "Because I knew you'd come," he murmured.

Louis glared at him, his voice firm. "If this is one of your games—"

"Oh, it is," Harry cut in smoothly. "And you're playing beautifully." Louis swallowed as The Joker closed the space between them. He was mere inches from Louis' face. "Dedication like yours? Showing up in the middle of the night, all rain-soaked and brooding?" His grin softened into something more intimate. "How could I resist?"

"You're going after weapons," Louis continued, ignoring Harry. "For what? To sell them? To give them to Sullivan's leftovers?"

Harry clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "You're thinking so small, sweetheart. You really think I'd do all this for a few guns? Please."

"Then what?" Louis demanded, his voice rising slightly as he pulled away from Harry.

Harry leaned forward, touching Louis' wet chin for a moment before withdrawing. "What do you think?" he gestured to the papers on the floor. 

Louis sifted through the papers, trying to piece it together. A pattern began to emerge—routes connecting the armoury to Gotham's industrial district, shipments marked with dates and times.

"This isn't about Sullivan," Louis muttered.

"Smart boy," Harry praised. "Keep going, sweetheart, you're so close."

"Then what is it really about?" Louis demanded, his voice sharp but tinged with frustration. "If it's not him, then who? Or what?"

Harry's eyes lit up with amusement as he flipped through a few maps carelessly. "Sullivan. Poor, simple Sullivan," he murmured. "He thought he could play king. But Gotham doesn't need a king, Robin. It needs a... spark," he explained. "Sullivan? He's just a pawn. You and Batman keep chasing crumbs while I'm working on the whole pie."

Louis frowned. "What does that mean?"

Harry picked up one of the maps and waved it lazily before tossing it aside. "What's the fun in a few guns when you can set the whole city ablaze?"

"Enough games!" Louis demanded, leaning closer.

 "Not games," The Joker corrected, his tone almost serious. "The game. And you're my favourite player," his fingers brushing lightly against Louis' sleeve.

"You're insane," Louis snapped, pulling away.

"And you're here," Harry countered smoothly. "What does that say about you?"

Louis shook his head. "I'm done playing," he stood, backing away from Harry.

Harry chuckled, his laughter low and velvety as he watched Louis retreat. "Oh, come on sweetheart," he called after him. "You haven't even figured out what it is yet."

Louis didn't turn as he replied. "I will!" he called.

Harry just grinned. "I'm counting on it, darling. And when you do, I'll be waiting."

Hehe :)

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