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Chapter Text

“In today’s top story, all of the UK watched live as retired MI6 agent, Harry Styles, saved countless lives in a thwarted bombing of a crowded London bound train out of Manchester. Passengers onboard the train used their mobile phones to stream the situation live—”

Harry turned off the telly as Darren walked into the room, leaning on the frame of the doorway of their shared flat. “The man of the hour.” His words did not match his tone. 

“I need to speak with you about something.” Harry knew how this conversation would likely end, but there was no use in postponing the inevitable.

Darren sat down in a chair opposite him, not even bothering to get close enough to touch. “You look quite serious.”

“Well, someone nearly blew up the train I was on yesterday, so there’s that. But yes, I have something serious to discuss with you.”

Darren just raised an eyebrow, the only sign he was ready to listen.

“I received a summons from Director General Payne this morning.” And then, for Darren’s sake as he had always tried his best to ignore the inner workings of Harry’s former career, he added, “He’s head of MI5.”

His partner crossed his arms over his chest. “What did he want? To give you a medal?”

“Possibly, but there was more to it than that.” Harry cleared his throat and leaned forward. “He’s offered me a position.”

Darren’s face turned to stone. “You’re retired.”

“I know that, but—”

“But what, Harry?” His partner of three years stood up and strode across the room to the hearth, picking up a framed photograph of the two of them in Rome. “This is what you promised me, Harry. Travel, leisure, actual time spent together. Not you being gone at all hours of the day and night with some important thing that absolutely no one else can take care of.”

Harry bristled a bit at how he’d implied Harry’s work somehow hadn’t been important, but if the relationship could be salvaged, perhaps he should try not to create more animosity about it. “Darren, I know what I said, but this is the prime minister’s protection we’re talking about. The Director General didn’t just—”offered” might not have been the proper word.”

“What is the proper word then?”

“Persuaded,” Harry admitted.

“So you’ve already accepted?” Darren threw the framed photograph to the floor at Harry’s feet. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, skittering across the wood floors. 

Harry sighed and just leaned back into the sofa as Darren stormed out of the room. He hadn’t intended to throw this relationship away. He knew he wasn’t getting any younger and had every intention of trying to make this work. 

Maybe it was better this way. Darren might be handsome and successful, but clearly their priorities were still too different. 

By the time Darren had packed a bag and left the flat, Harry had already accessed the folder Director Payne had sent him. He stared at the screen and wondered who was trying to kill Prime Minister Tomlinson.

Chapter Text

On his first day, Harry entered Thames House well before his appointed time to meet the prime minister. The building, whilst not the fortress of the Secret Intelligence Service he was used to, held a certain air of authority about it. He passed through the stone and granite archway, showing his badge to the guards.

In his usual meticulous manner, he’d left his uniform in the building, knowing he’d be here on his first day to ready himself. Opening the locker, he pulled his shirt up and over his head, exchanging it for an undershirt and a bulletproof vest that covered the multitude of scars and tattoos scattered across his torso. 

Putting on the white dress shirt and suit and tie switched his mind into its proper mode. He squared his shoulders and took a breath before leaving the changing room to procure a gun.

“Glock and two magazines, please.” He flashed his firearms identification card at the man behind the counter, signing out the weapon before loading it and placing it in its holster. 

His earpiece remained around his neck until he arrived at Westminster to wait outside for Prime Minister Tomlinson to appear out of the building. Once there, he placed it in his ear and checked to be sure all communications were in working order. He and another personal protection officer stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the doors and surveilling the area.

“There’s the principal now.” The PPO nodded his head briefly at the contingent leaving the building. “Put him in the first car today, but we switch them up day to day. His driver is Jeff and his current PPO walking beside him is Calvin.”

He and the officer approached the men walking out of the building, and Harry finally got a good look at the man he’d be protecting. The prime minister immediately struck him as a man with a powerful air about him. He’d often seen him on the telly of course, but to be in his presence was something else entirely. 

Prime Minister Tomlinson had retained much of his youthful good looks for a man in his fifties, although his hair had grown noticeably greyer over the years. The wrinkles by his eyes might have fooled anyone but his adversaries into believing this was a man prone to smiling and laughter, but the man walking towards him in a strong stride looked anything but friendly. Harry set his jaw.

“Sir,” the PPO greeted the prime minister.

“Jack.” 

“This is Agent Harry Styles, your new protection officer.”

The prime minister stopped at this information, turning to face them in a wide legged stance.

Piercing blue eyes met his as Harry extended a hand to the prime minister. “Pleasure to meet you, sir. I was hoping to discuss using a different exit and entrance from now on, perhaps one less prominent.”

The PM’s eyes flashed for just a moment. “I’m late for a meeting back at my office.”

Harry stared after him as he walked towards the cars parked at the kerb. 

“He needs to be seen.” Harry turned towards the voice, recognising the face of Niall Horan, the prime minister’s current Director of Communications. “I admit I’ve put him up to it. Makes for good PR moments at times.”

“It also makes him an easy target.”

Director Horan shrugged, but kept an easy smile on his face. “I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow.”

With one more glance around the area, Harry escorted the PM into the first car, climbing into the passenger seat alongside the driver. As Jeff drove the streets toward 10 Downing Street, he kept his eyes focused on any possible dangers, constantly surveilling the surrounding cars and glancing into the mirrors to give him a look at everything around them.

As they passed through the gates blocking off Downing Street, he knew most any danger would have passed, but he also knew better than to let down his guard. He walked alongside the PM and stood inside the busy office space as Prime Minister Tomlinson closed himself in with a few other politicians Harry recognised from the file . Harry found himself taking a careful look at each person in the vicinity. It would be best if he could be able to identify each one of them if need be. 

The next meeting took them out of Downing Street and to the Home Office, keeping them all out until after nightfall. Whilst more difficult at night, Harry kept a close watch on the cars surrounding them as they headed back to the PM’s residence for the night.

As the PM took a call, Harry turned to the driver. “Take Great Peter Street to Abingdon.”

“Just a moment, Zayn.” The prime minister held the mobile away from his mouth. “Jeff has been driving me for years. I trust he knows the best way back to Downing Street from the Home Office.”

“Sir, due to the current threat level I’ve assessed that a diversion is needed for the time being.”

“And how much longer will that take?”

“I can’t say for certain, sir.”

“I need to be back at my residence. Jeff, just take our regular route.”

Harry turned to look back at the PM, keeping his voice calm. “Sir, if you don’t mind, it’s my job to keep you safe. I won’t ever tell you how to do your job.”

The small twist of the prime minister’s lips surprised him. “No, but you’re set on making my job harder, aren’t you?”

“Just trying to make it safer, sir.” He nodded at Jeff who turned onto Great Peter Street. 

By the time they made it back to the residence, the irritation the PM felt for taking a few extra minutes to return was palpable. Harry opened the door, and the prime minister strode towards the residence without giving Harry even a glance. He walked him to the doors, nodding at the armed guards stationed just outside. 

One firm knock had the guards from inside the door opening it and ushering them into the foyer. 

“If you wouldn’t mind waiting here, sir, as I sweep the house.”

By the look on Prime Minister Tomlinson’s face, he did indeed mind as he stood stiffly beside the guards, his hand grasping his briefcase more tightly than necessary. He knew he was pissing off his principal, but his job wasn’t to keep the PM happy, it was to protect him.

As he passed from room to room, swiftly but thoroughly, he heard the prime minister call back his Chief of Staff. “Yes, Zayn, I've finally arrived back. Mind calling for a take away?”

As he walked into a bedroom, he heard footsteps that somehow managed to sound annoyed, which could only mean the prime minister had not followed his instructions.

“May I ask what it is you think you’re doing?” 

A small prickle of sensation ran up Harry’s spine, which he instantly banished. He didn’t answer the question as he’d already said exactly what he had been doing. “Where does this door lead?”

“My study.” 

Harry opened the door and walked inside, checking behind the desk before walking back to the prime minister, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I’m meeting with my Chief of Staff if you wouldn’t mind fucking off. No offense.”

“None taken,” he replied and simply walked into the adjoining room, checking it quickly before taking a look at the window and at what angle it looked down onto Downing Street. His eye caught on a small table where a small framed photograph sat. It was of the Prime Minister alongside his wife and an older man who looked vaguely familiar.

“How much longer is this going to take?”

“As long as it takes me to check each room of the residence , sir.”

The prime minister sighed and pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. “Carry on then. As quickly as possible, please.”

When he had completed his sweep of the residence, he found the Prime Minister at a table in the den with Zayn Malik beside him, a file open on the surface between them. Clearly Zayn had still been next door working when the prime minister called. 

“All done, sir. Have a good evening.”

“Wait,” the prime minister called out just as Harry had turned to go. “Zayn here says you’re Agent Styles?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The former MI6 agent who prevented the train bombing in Manchester. That was you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Prime Minister Tomlinson sighed and glanced at Zayn, before looking him in the eye. Harry had stared down some of the most ruthless criminals in the world, but he’d be lying if he said that the prime minister’s stare didn’t unnerve him, though he had the proper training to hide it. 

“It’s been a very long day. I apologise if we got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

The prime minister stood from his chair and extended a hand, a bit of a self-deprecating smile on his face, just enough to cause the corners of his eyes to wrinkle. This man was far more dangerous to Harry’s peace of mind than any man he had ever met. “Can you forgive me?”

As Harry shook the prime minister’s hand, smaller in his grasp than he’d anticipated, his gaze caught on the way the PM’s long eyelashes left a shadow on his face with the backlit light. He was fairly certain he’d never in his life noticed someone’s eyelashes before. “Of course, sir.”

“Truly, I’ve been a proper wanker.”

“All is forgiven, sir.”

As he exited 11 Downing Street and into the cool London night, Harry finally knew why Director General Payne had been so desperate for him to take on this job. Keeping Prime Minister Tomlinson safe looked to be a real pain in the arse.

Chapter Text

Politics had never been of particular interest to Harry. Over the years though, he’d kept a close watch on politicians’ views on security, both home and abroad. The warmongers never had any real idea of what it was like to be in a combat zone, fighting an enemy whose background probably had more in common with his own than most any wealthy member of parliament currently sitting in Westminster. 

With the bombing he’d stopped in Manchester, not to mention the lesser known threats against the prime minister, security seemed on most everyone’s minds. The press certainly had been reporting quite a bit on the bombing and the obvious increase in security all over the UK, which meant that members of parliament were speaking up about it as well. 

Harry heard bits in passing in the PM’s office, and from his research of Prime Minister Tomlinson, he already knew his public thoughts on military intervention abroad. That was to say that the PM was quite firmly against sending more troops abroad, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in an increase in security here in the UK. 

As Harry stood outside the door of the PM’s office, he took in the frantic faces of a staff in the midst of what had clearly become a tense time. Niall Horan seemed particularly harried as he strode by Harry speaking to the press secretary.

“Veronica, it’s simply not up to snuff. Rework this entire bit here and then run it by Tomlinson himself. We need to appear as firm on security as Ben Winston did this morning—”

The door of the PM’s office swung open. Outwardly, Prime Minister Tomlinson appeared calm, but from where Harry stood, he could see the fire burning in his eyes. 

“Oliver, it’s time!” The PM’s secretary appeared at his side. 

“Rover’s car is ready,” Harry heard over his earpiece. He kept a smile to himself at the PM’s security nickname, a play on the prime minister’s beloved hometown football club.

“Car’s ready, sir.” He escorted the prime minister and his secretary towards the exit. As they neared the doors, he spoke into the mic clipped to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Principal leaving building now.”

He opened the door of the armoured Jaguar XJ Sentinel, allowing Prime Minister Tomlinson into the vehicle as his secretary climbed in the other side. Harry took his seat next to the driver, nodding at him.

As Jeff took a turn a bit out of the way as Harry had previously discussed with him, Harry heard a sigh from the back seat. He turned towards the sound and met the PM’s eye.

“Safer, I know,” the prime minister said to the unasked question and response. “Still makes me late to my meeting.”

Harry turned back around to survey the cars driving near them and any people he saw on the sidewalks. 

“What is it that Winston thinks he’s up to?” Prime Minister Tomlinson mumbled.

“Zayn says the Home Secretary seems to be eying your job, sir,” Oliver answered. 

Harry glanced back at the PM and noted his fingers tapping against the door. “Mm. He always was a wanker, but I’ll take care of this today if all goes well. The man wants more for his security budget as though we haven’t planned for just this situation.”

“I think the Home Secretary wouldn’t be happy unless you fell off the face of the earth, sir.”

Tomlinson snorted. “And this is my own bloody party, Oliver. Imagine what my enemies think of me.”

Harry stood outside the meeting room, his back against a wall, silently watching everyone who walked by or entered or exited the room with the principal. The longer he stood there, the less likely it seemed to him that the PM had made an ally out of the Home Secretary today.

The door swung open with the PM striding out of the room, a cold look on his face, with Oliver scurrying along behind them as Harry matched the prime minister’s pace. He quickly spoke into the radioed mic before they climbed into the lift. “Rover on the way.”

His message was immediately received and answered. “Car’s ready. Jeff is in the second car.”

The three of them rode the lift in silence, the PM clearly in no mood to speak pleasantries or even work related topics with his secretary. Harry steered them towards the second car in the line before hopping into the passenger seat and giving Jeff an alternate route back to Downing Street. 

Prime Minister Tomlinson simply stared out the window, his jaw set in clear frustration, but when they arrived back at his office, the PM nearly leaped from the car and into the office, calling out orders and barking at the staff to call a meeting. “Horan, Veronica, conference room in five minutes. Zayn, in my office now.”

Everyone jumped to obey his commands, and Harry spent the rest of the afternoon watching as the PM’s staff worked even more frantically than the day before, voices alternating between hushed whispers and loud swearing. 

When the prime minister finally exited his office, the lines between his eyes seemed to have deepened and even the blue of his eyes seemed to have faded. He took one look at Harry and sighed. “I suppose you have to clear the house again?”

“Yes, sir. If you’re headed back to your residence, sir.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Tomlinson mumbled, motioning at Harry. They walked next door to the prime minister’s residence in silence, and Harry noticed the slower pace he seemed to be walking at. He left the PM with one of the door guards in a sitting room near the door and began his sweep of the house. 

He found himself again noticing the photograph of the prime minister with his wife and the older man next to her, perhaps her father, thinking to himself that it seemed odd not to have even seen the woman yet. He glanced out the window, seeing a car pull up outside, an unusual sight for this time of night and on a road blocked off by gates. 

He saw a woman begin walking up to the entrance of the house just as a PPO in his ear began to speak. “Veronica Morrison’s visiting the principal.”

Ah, so not his wife then. “Be at the door in a moment.”

He quickly made his way back downstairs to the door, opening it to the sight of the press secretary just as the prime minister appeared behind him. 

“Oh, hello.” Veronica looked at him, wide eyed. Harry noted her hair, which had been pulled into a tight bun today, now flowed in dark waves over her shoulders. 

“Evening, ma’am.” Harry opened the door and stepped back, allowing her entrance.

 “Did you bring the notes for the press conference?” PM Tomlinson asked before glancing at Harry. “Agent Styles was just finishing up I believe.”

“Yes, um—” She walked past Harry with a nod and a short smile before giving the PM a much brighter one. “I have that all here for you. Brought some take away as well. Thought you might not have eaten.”

“Ah, good. Haven’t eaten much today.”

“I’m done here, sir,” Harry said as the PM gave him a nod and ushered the press secretary towards his study. “Have a good evening, sir.

“You, too,” the PM said over his shoulder. 

Harry watched them walk into the study, noting the press secretary casually touching the PM’s arm as she spoke. Tomlinson shrugged her off as he reached for the file in her hand. Harry’s career had always required the utmost attention to detail, and that could only help him in a job like this one. Of course, he also noticed the tension in the prime minister’s body language as he swept back his still rather full head of hair. 

He nodded to the guard at the door and exited out of 11 Downing Street, climbing into the waiting car with other PPOs. Harry signed out for the night, handing over duties to the next shift of officers as he was driven back to his flat. 

It had been a long day, but as Harry opened the door to his empty flat, he didn’t feel the comfort that coming home after a long day should bring. His weary body had him collapsing onto the couch with a groan. Behind his closed eyes, an image of the prime minister sweeping back his hair away from his still sharply handsome face lingered in his mind.

Chapter Text

Harry turned the telly on, listening to the talking heads as they reported on the increased security in railway stations and airports and other potential targets. Journalists dissected the prime minister’s every word on the matter of potential accomplices involved with the bombing Harry had stopped. He generally did his series of early morning stretches and weighted exercises in silence, but today, he let the telly drone on. 

“The debate on national security threatens to split the government as the more moderate Prime Minister Tomlinson continues to assure the nation that appropriate measures are being taken to prevent terror attacks before they occur. However, Home Secretary Ben Winston has spearheaded a new bill aimed at increasing investigatory powers in the Home Office. He seems to be taking a strong stance at odds with the prime minister.”

He winced at the soreness that came from simply being a man in his fifties doing a job like his. Perhaps he ought to invest in a new mattress, maybe one of those he always saw advertised that came in a box. It might be nice to have something new to sleep on that didn’t remind him at all of Darren. A small bit of shame struck him that he hadn’t given much thought to his breakup with Darren at all, though his new job could mostly be blamed for the lack of thought he’d given to it.

The prime minister’s appointments today took him no further than his own office, allowing Harry to simply stand guard as Louis and his staff scurried around him. The scurrying abruptly halted as all eyes turned to the screens mounted on the center of the wall.

Ben Winston’s smug face flashed across the screen as he spoke of the continuing threat and all he would do to protect the country. “Security services need greater powers to deal with greater threats. No one need worry but those whom are intent on acts of violence.”

At that, the PM stood up and marched into his private office, slamming the door behind him. The room stood still for a moment before everyone erupted back into a flurry of movement. 

Early evening descended, and the prime minister said little as Harry escorted him back to his residence. “I’m having dinner with my wife and father-in-law tonight.”

“Very good, sir.”

Prime Minister Tomlinson sighed and sat down as Harry began to sweep the house. He moved quickly but still thoroughly checked through each room. When he returned to the PM, he found him with his head bowed, seemingly oblivious to Harry’s presence. 

Harry cleared his throat. “All clear, sir.”

Tomlinson sighed and nodded as he stood up, stretching his neck from side to side before ascending the stairs. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

True to his word, the prime minister appeared ten minutes later dressed more casually than Harry had ever seen him dressed. The soft blue jumper pulled over his head had clearly mussed his hair, which he tried to put into order haphazardly as he descended the stairs back to Harry. He held his arms out to Harry as though for inspection.

“Well, am I presentable?” 

Harry felt the corners of his lips twitch as he tried to refrain from a grin. “Yes, sir.”

“Ah, but you haven’t yet had the pleasure of meeting my father-in-law yet. Nothing is ever presentable enough for Simon Caldwell.”

As Harry escorted the prime minister to the car, his thoughts stuck on Simon Caldwell, the very influential head of CAE Systems. He tried to clear his head as Jeff drove through the darkening streets towards the designated restaurant, trying to keep his mind on imminent dangers rather than the CEO of a multinational arms, security, and aerospace company. 

He was successful in his attempt until they arrived at the restaurant and the man himself stood up as his daughter offered her cheek to the prime minister for a kiss. Harry noticed the prime minister’s wife’s security officer at a nearby table and joined her with a nod. 

“Hello, you must be the prime minister’s new PPO then?”

“Yes, Harry Styles.” He held out a hand that she shook firmly. 

“Shar Elliott. Settle in for the ride. These three are like oil and water.”

Harry’s gaze sharpened on the table, and he realised that if they stayed quiet they could just make out the conversation. As the trio ordered and exchanged fairly tense pleasantries, Harry found himself scrutinising Caldwell. The man looked perhaps ten years older than the prime minister, still giving off the aura of a man firmly ensconced in wealth and power, and there was a hardness to his smile that immediately struck Harry as reptilian. 

His gaze shifted next to the prime minister’s wife. Honor Tomlinson appeared significantly younger than Harry had first assumed she would be, and she looked to be as comfortable in the presence of her father as the prime minister, which was to say not at all. She sat ramrod straight in her chair, her hair cut into a chic blonde bob that hung just above her shoulders that twitched ever so slightly when she moved. 

Harry and Shar refrained from anything more than water as they kept guard, which gave them both ample time to simply watch and listen. As the meals were served, it became clear why the prime minister and his wife had been summoned to this little gathering.

“Dad, you know that children are not in our immediate future. I don’t know why you insist on even saying—”

“You’re not getting any younger, Honor.” Caldwell’s voice cut through her protest. “And don’t you think it may help your husband’s poll numbers, which quite frankly could use the help?”

The prime minister sat silently, but his face flushed with colour. It was clear he was holding on to his temper by a thread. Shar nudged him, and he realised how far forward he had begun to lean as though he was trying to listen in. He sat back and nodded at her in understanding, trying not to be as obvious in his eavesdropping. Silently, he scolded himself. He was clearly out of practice.

Simon Caldwell leaned back in his chair, taking a bite of food. “Of course, perhaps your poll numbers would be better if your stance on defense were stronger.”

“I have advisors I trust on this matter, Simon.” The prime minister’s voice remained calm though he sat stiffly, clearly unpleased by the entire topic.

“You also have a father-in-law who has been keeping this country safe longer than your advisors have been alive.”

“I find I’ve lost my appetite.” The prime minister pushed his chair back from the table. “Honor, will I see you at home?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “Later.”

Harry immediately spoke into his mic. “Rover on the move.”

The PPO in his earpiece replied back. “Jeff’s in the first car.”

He strode over towards the table to escort the prime minister, and although it was none of his concern, he couldn’t help but note the stiffness between Tomlinson and his wife. 

The prime minister rode back to his residence in silence. Harry tried to keep his mind strictly on his surroundings, but something in the back of his mind told him to think more about the dinner at a later time.

“I suppose you have to sweep the house again .”

“Yes, sir.” Harry left the minister at the door and immediately began his rounds of the residence. He returned to find the prime minister staring at his phone, his face white as a sheet. 

“All done, sir. Good night.”

He grasped the door handle, just as he felt a hand at his sleeve. “Wait.”

Harry immediately froze at the touch. “Yes, sir?”

“I have a—” The prime minister released him before running a hand across his hair. “Fuck. I have a problem. And I—can you stay for a—”

“Sir, if this is about your security, I have been instructed to do absolutely anything I can to protect you.”

The PM’s shoulders sagged. “I’m not sure. Maybe.”

Tomlinson began walking, gesturing at Harry to follow. They proceeded to his study where the PM poured himself a glass of brandy before sitting at his desk. “I know you were appointed particularly by Director General Payne.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Payne assured me that I could trust you to the utmost degree due to your extensive history with MI6.”

“I appreciate his faith in me.”

“I don’t believe faith has anything to do with it. You’ve proven yourself time after time to be loyal to this country and willing and able to keep its secrets.”

“Yes, sir.”

The PM sighed. “Please call me Louis.”

“Sir?”

“At least in private. I intend to trust Payne’s judgement of you. It’s become clear to me, as it already has to Director General Payne, that I need someone I can trust. And I’d rather you call me Louis when I’m speaking with you about sensitive matters.”

“Sir—ehm, Louis—” The name felt unfamiliar on his tongue. “I’m here for whatever you need of me. I can, of course, guarantee discretion.”

“Whatever I need,” the prime minister muttered, taking a drink. He gestured towards the chair opposite him. “Please, sit.”

Harry sat down, feeling a bit off kilter at the change in the prime minister’s demeanor. He wondered if it had something to do with the strange dinner he’d had with his wife and father-in-law.

“I’ve received a disturbing text.”

The mobile slid across the desk. Harry picked it up, not sure what to expect.

The text was quite simple: I know you’re gay, Prime Minister. The question is how long I’m going to keep quiet about it and what I want in exchange for my silence.

It didn’t take long for Harry to figure out why this was a problem. The only reason the prime minister would be concerned about this is if it was true. It would be best to cut right to the chase then. “Is it true?”

“Yes.” The prime minister finished the brandy in the glass.

“But—” Harry stopped himself. Nothing else about this was his business and stopped his questions in their tracks.

“But I’m married?” The prime minister chuckled. “Our marriage was born of politics and power initially. Honor stays for me now, mostly. For my career. She’s built quite a name for herself at this point in the finance sector. I’m sure she stays partly for her own reputation as well.”

Harry stayed silent for a moment. “Do you have any ideas about who would know this information and send you a text like that?”

“What? No other questions at learning your prime minister is a closeted gay man?”

“No, sir—Louis.” 

“Feel free to ask, Harry. Can I call you Harry?”

“Yes.”

“Formalities seem a bit silly when someone knows your biggest secret.”

“I don’t have any particular questions, at least none that are personal. I assume you’re asking for my help in uncovering the source of the text.”

A muscle in the prime minister’s jaw twitched. “Yes. That is indeed why I’ve told you. Though perhaps I should have made sure you had nothing against the LGBTQIA community before I told you.”

“No issues there,” Harry assured him. “I’ll need complete access to all your devices to track this down if possible. Also, does Director General Payne know of this secret? I need to know if I can use his resources as well for this.”

The prime minister stared at him for a moment. “No, Payne doesn’t know. But as he’s one of the only men I trust in this town, I would be willing to tell him.”

“I think that’s for the best. Any and all information could help the director with all ongoing investigations. It could even be tied to the intelligence that your life is in danger.”

The prime minister snorted. “When hasn’t my life been in danger?”

“Sir—Louis. These threats MI5 has uncovered are not anything to take lightly.”

“I’ve had a bit more than that on my mind, Harry. You of all people should know that. What if you hadn’t happened to have been on that train that day? Do you know the absolute luck it was that you were there?”

“With all due respect, I’m not your average PPO. I’m here because I’m one of the few people the Director General trusts, and he’s called in every favour I’ve ever owed him to get me here.”

Louis’ eyebrows shot up. “What, you weren’t excited for the job, Harry?”

Harry smiled, not stifling his reaction this time, and he watched Louis’ eyes widen at the break in his usual professional demeanor. “Not really. I sacrificed an unfulfilling relationship with my partner for this job. Although, maybe I should thank you for that.”

Louis’ eyes fixed on his own in a direct stare as if measuring Harry’s exact meaning.

Harry stood up. “If that’s all, I’ll take your mobile directly to MI5 in the morning. Perhaps you should call the Director General tonight.”

“I’ll do that.”

Chapter Text

Well before his work day began, Harry found himself outside of Director General Payne’s office, waiting for his arrival. The director appeared a few minutes later, seemingly unsurprised to see Harry waiting for him. With a nod at Harry to follow him, they entered his office.

“Here.” Payne slid a mobile across his desk. “It’s the prime minister’s. I would have been here earlier, but I’ve been at Downing Street already this morning.”

Harry pocketed the mobile but waited for any further instructions. “I assume that beyond this new blackmail attempt, you’d like me to see if I can find any connection between this and the death threats.”

The director leaned back in his chair, and Harry noticed the purple shadows beneath Payne’s eyes. “Yes. Your first focus needs to be the prime minister’s protection, but anything you can tell me about the blackmail attempt could be important. And I know this likely doesn’t need to be said, but discretion is of the utmost importance here.”

“Of course.”

Director General Payne sighed and motioned at Harry to sit in the chair opposite him. “He’s one of my oldest friends.”

For a moment, Harry almost thought he’d heard him wrong. “What?”

“Prime Minister Tomlinson. Louis. We went to uni together actually, many years ago obviously.” Payne huffed out a soft laugh. “Can’t believe I didn’t know until now. I’ve known the man most of my life.”

“I didn’t realise you were so close, sir.”

“Well, we try not to be too loud about our connection. Never wanted it to interfere with our careers in any way.” The director rubbed a hand down his face. “And obviously, he wanted to keep this information close to the chest.”

“Did he give you the names of everyone who knows his secret? That would be a place for me to start.”

The director’s eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re not going to like what I’m about to say. I’m glad you’re here though because we have a lot to talk about before you go on duty, and you’re going to need this information to keep the prime minister safe.”

Harry had never thought of himself as having much of a temper. In his line of work, that kind of emotion could get him or someone else killed. Even in his personal life, what little of one he’d had over the years, he couldn’t recall a time he’d ever raised his voice at a partner much less anything worse.

In this moment though, he finally understood why people put their fists through walls. He trailed after the prime minister from meeting to meeting, waiting for a time to speak to him in private and giving his anger time to simmer closer and closer to a boiling point he didn’t know he had. If he didn’t know better, he might have thought the prime minister’s meetings had more to do with avoiding him and this potential blackmail situation than with the importance of meeting with party members and advisors in a constant stream of people in and out of the offices on Downing Street and Westminster. 

The constant movement grated on Harry’s nerves as the car took them to the Home Office for yet another attempt to keep Ben Winston on his leash. As Harry waited outside the Home Secretary’s private office, he eyed the empty conference room next to it. 

When the prime minister stormed out of Winston’s office, Harry maneuvered him immediately into the conference room. He tried his best to make the motions look as innocuous as possible, but the glass walls didn’t provide shelter from any curious eyes. 

“Pretend to speak on your mobile—sir.”

Louis’ confusion at both the manhandling and the request perhaps worked to Harry’s advantage. The prime minister clearly had other things on his mind at the moment like how to stay in power, but Harry had a few fucking things to say to him.

The prime minister held up his mobile as though he were speaking into it, and Harry moved to shield the look on both their faces from anyone else in the office. 

“I spoke with Director General Payne this morning before I came on duty.” 

“And? Did he have news for you already about the text message?”

Harry snorted. “No. But he had some interesting ideas about where to start looking for information about them.”

Louis raised an eyebrow. “Did he?”

Harry stepped forward, trying to hold onto the last threads of his temper. “When exactly were you going to tell me that you were frequenting sex clubs?”

Colour rose high in the prime minister’s face, the only sign that he wasn’t perfectly composed. “Wasn’t entirely sure it was relevant, and in any case, I did tell Director General Payne.”

“Wasn’t sure it was relevant?” Harry bit out the words, feeling his jaw twitch. “I’m in charge of your personal protection, sir. I can’t keep you safe unless you’re honest with me about your whereabouts.”

“Is this really the proper place to be having this conversation?” 

“Considering I couldn’t get you alone before now, yes.”

“All you had to do was ask, Harry, if you wanted to get me alone.”

Harry took another step forward until he had Louis nearly boxed in against the table, though of course a man like Louis Tomlinson would never back down. “Do you know how incredibly careless you’ve been with your safety? It’s a wonder you’re still alive.”

“I’ve been discreet—”

“Sex clubs are discreet enough for heads of government now, are they?”

“It’s one particular club, and yes, this one is very discreet.”

“Have you been taking a PPO with you?”

Louis’ face flushed again. “No.”

“Not even since the threats against you became more urgent?”

The prime minister’s face remained stony, his silence an answer in itself. If the walls hadn’t been glass, Harry might really have been tempted to put his fist through it. 

“We should leave. Winston probably has his ear to the wall. I don’t need questions about sex clubs during my session with Parliament tomorrow.” The PM moved towards the door, and Harry let him go, following him from the room and into the lift. 

Harry used the silence in the lift to regain control of his anger and had it fairly under control by the time he escorted the prime minister towards the waiting car. He nodded to Jeff as he opened the door for Louis who climbed into the vehicle as Harry closed the door behind him perhaps a bit firmer than he normally would. 

He took his seat beside Jeff who began a different route towards Downing Street just as a further precaution. Harry glanced back through the mirror towards the prime minister, waiting for a complaint about the route taking longer than it should. When none came, he opened his mouth to say something about the route to perhaps ease some of the tension between them when the first shots rang out.

In some ways the next minutes of Harry’s life were a blur, and in other ways they were thrown into sharp focus. The armoured Jaguar provided safety, though the driver’s window had been shot through multiple times.

The tires squealed as Jeff swerved, and Harry wasn’t entirely sure if Jeff had been hit at all or not.

“Down! Down!” Harry yelled to Louis as he ducked down into his seat before trying to instruct Jeff to keep driving. “Go! Go!”

His ears rang with noises he’d grown familiar with over the years he’d spent in MI6, ones of breaking glass and screaming. And then the next shots came through the driver’s side window and directly through Jeff’s head, providing Harry with yet another sound he hated. 

Harry had only a second of horror at the sight of Jeff’s head thrown back against the headrest with blood spattering across every surface of the interior of the car including himself and Louis before he grabbed the wheel as the Jaguar continued to move as though Jeff’s foot must still have pressure against the pedal. 

The car skidded forwards, turning sideways as Harry threw the car into neutral and pulled the handbrake, trying to regain control on a London side street with a likely dead body lying across the driver’s seat. The rubber of the tires screeched against the road as he only just managed to keep them from careening onto a busier street though the Jaguar scraped its front end against a parked car.

The cars behind them screeched to a halt as more bullets hit the Jaguar. It finally occurred to Harry that the screams he heard were from Louis.  

“Stay down! Below the windows! The bullets can’t go through armoured metal!”

He peeked between the seats and reassured himself that Louis was complying with his instructions as instinct kicked in. He quickly relayed information via radio. “Control. Seven five. Status zero. Carteret Street. Rover is T.A. Repeat Rover is T.A.”

Harry heard Control in his ear, sending help that he hoped would be in time for them to get out of this situation safely. He stayed down as best he could as he carefully turned the rearview mirror, hoping not to get his arm blown off in the process. Using the mirror, he tried his best to assess the situation, looking back at the officer in the car behind him with Louis’ advisors. 

Again, he spoke into the radio. “Three nine. Seven five. Back to back on three.”

A small bit of relief came over him at the sound of the PPO in the vehicle behind him. “Received seven five.”

Harry spoke on channel three this time. “Jeff is down. We’ve lost him. Just waiting on backup now. I suggest you do the same.”

Another bullet hit the car, causing Louis to startle and cry out. “Just keep down, sir. I promise you, the bullets won’t penetrate through the armoured plating.”

Before he could even finish his sentence, another barrage of bullets hit the car, causing him to flinch and Louis to let out a stifled yelp. He pulled up his radio again. “Control. Seven Five. We need armed assistance immediately. What’s the ETA?”

As Control answered him, another round of bullets struck the Jaguar, this time blowing apart the passenger side window. “Fuck!” Louis yelled, cowering under the few small bits of broken glass that showered down around him. 

“Are you okay, sir?”

“Yes.” Louis’ voice wavered. “And stop calling me sir. If I’m about to die, I’d at least like you to call me Louis as I’ve already asked of you.”

“You’re not going to die, s—Louis. Help will be here any second.” What the fuck was taking them so long anyway? “And since we weren’t discussing private matters, I was trying to stay professional.”

He heard a snort from the back seat. “You reprimanded me about sex clubs just before we got shot at. I think professionalism is out the window at this point.”

Louis might be trying to put on a bit of a brave front at the moment, but he’d heard those cries and could still hear the fear in the prime minister’s voice. He reached his hand between the seats, though he cringed at the blood splattered across his arm and hand. Louis’ fingers grasped his hand tightly. 

“It’s going to be okay.”

Another bullet made contact with the car, the metallic thud jolting them both, though they kept hold of each other’s hand. 

“Jeff’s been driving me every day since I took office.” He’d never heard Louis’ voice sound like this before, small and unsure, nothing like the force of nature Harry had seen and heard whirl through a space. 

“I’m sorry. He seemed like a good sort.”

“He was.”

The quietness of Louis’ usually loud voice decided his next move. He reached up to grab hold of the rearview mirror, wrenching it off before climbing swiftly between and over the seat until he’d thrown himself to the floor of the backseat next to the prime minister. Louis looked pleased to see him close, but Harry hadn’t done this to comfort him. 

“Just stay down, okay? Everything will be okay as long as you stay down.” Harry grasped the door handle.

“Wait—what are you—”

Harry slipped open the door and crawled out the rear door opposite to where the shots had hit the vehicle. It seemed to him that everything seemed to be coming from the same place or at least fairly close together even if there were multiple shooters. 

He had a better look at the surrounding scene now. There were more people stranded in their cars than he’d originally thought, which wasn’t ideal. Hopefully, no one would get hit by a stray bullet or try to make a run for it. It looked like the perimeter of the scene was being held fairly well by the unarmed officers with no one in or out. 

Continuing to use the Jaguar as cover, he edged towards the back of the car before holding up the mirror to look at the rooftops opposite him. Slowly he moved the mirror until his eye caught movement on the top of one of the buildings. Once he was sure he was assessing the situation correctly, he called Control over his radio.

“Control. Seven five. Single shooter. Top of Conrad Hotel.”

“Received, seven five.”

“What’s the ETA?”

“Two minutes.”

He’s fairly sure that’s what Control said the last time he asked for an ETA. Fuck.

Another bullet struck the car, and Harry cringed at the sound. He desperately tried to take stock of the situation and determined that they couldn’t continue to stay here like sitting ducks. Taking into consideration where the shooter was, he knew where a better location would be to wait for help.

He opened the door to find Louis tucked against the floor, clearly trying his best to keep hold of his terror. A flare of emotion threatened to pulse through Harry at the thought that people like the prime minister had no business being in situations like this. They were in central London for fuck’s sake, not a war zone. 

But before he could let his emotions get the better of him, he tried to keep his voice calm as he spoke. “Sir, I need to get you to safety.”

“I thought you said we just had to wait here for help and that the car would protect us.”

“Sir—Louis, you can trust me to keep you safe. It’s what I’ve been trained to do.”

“Okay. I—do. I trust you.”

“Stay down.” Harry crawled back to the ground and around to the driver’s side door, opening it to the sight of Jeff’s lifeless body. This was no time for niceties, so he hauled Jeff out of the seat and onto the ground before crawling into the driver’s seat and shutting the door. 

He knew he didn’t have much time before bullets started flying, so he immediately radioed the PPO in the car behind them. “Three nine. Seven five. Back to back on three.”

“Received seven five.”

“Rover on the move. I’m not going to just sit here and let him get injured. Some of the windows are compromised. It’s too dangerous to just stay.”

“Wait, what?”

“Follow us.” Harry started the car and slammed the vehicle into reverse. Adrenaline coursed through Harry’s veins, his heart pounding so hard in his ears he nearly didn’t hear or notice the bullets striking the vehicle as he plowed backwards down the street.

He kept the car weaving to avoid hitting any other cars or obstacles, heading towards the building where a sniper stood atop it trying to pick them off. As they neared the building, shots hit the roof of the car and then the back windscreen. “You’re doing great, Louis. Just keep down, and everything is going to be fine.

Harry veered into a car park just beneath the building and slumped forward in relief. He’d done it. He’d managed to get the prime minister out of the line of fire and into an area where the sniper wouldn’t have a line of sight.

If he were a younger man, he would have leapt from the vehicle to pursue the attacker, but part of him was glad of the chance to watch over Louis instead.

Harry climbed the steps of the prime minister’s residence with a large bag in his right hand. It was an odd feeling to carry a bag in his right, dominant hand like this. In his line of work, his instinct was always to keep it free to grab a weapon, but the bandages on his left hand kept him from doing so. He didn’t even remember cutting himself and the wounds weren’t anything serious, just a reminder that there had been an attempt on the prime minister’s life today.

The guards at the door had told him where to find the prime minister, so he made his way towards Louis’ study. He took a breath before knocking. Harry nearly missed the quiet entreaty to come in.

He found the prime minister tucked into one side of a window looking out onto Downing Street, his arms closed over his chest in a protective manner that only made him look more vulnerable. Louis didn’t turn to look at him, clearly expecting Harry’s arrival. 

“Do you think I’m still in danger?”

“They’re in the process of identifying the sniper as far as I know. I’m sure they’ve told you he’s dead, but obviously, he needs to be ID’d.”

Louis turned to look at him, a ghost of the horror of this afternoon still there in the glittering depths of his eyes. “But do you think I’m still in danger if this man is dead?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Thank you for being honest with me.”

“Of course. I’ll always be honest with you, sir.”

A small quirk of a smile came and went so quickly across Louis’ face that Harry wasn’t sure it had really appeared at all. “Honesty is hard to come by around here, Harry. But I appreciate the idea that perhaps I can trust in yours.” 

“Well, all security measures have been ramped up after what happened. Director General Payne wouldn’t have thought it necessary for me to move into your residence if he didn’t think you might still be in danger, sir.”

“What have I told you about calling me sir? Surely after what we’ve gone through today, we can be Louis and Harry to each other. At least in private.”

Harry nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. Is there a particular guest room I should stay in? Perhaps the one closest to yours.”

Louis nodded and let out a sigh before bracing his shoulders and letting his arms drop back to his sides. Harry followed him out of the study towards the bedrooms until Louis reached the door to the bedroom next to his own and ushered him inside. Instead of leaving him to unpack, Louis followed him into the room, closing the door behind him.

Whatever bit of bravado Louis had conjured up slipped away as quickly as it had come, and he seemed to close back into himself. It made complete sense that Louis would feel so affected by the situation; it was his life being threatened after all. But it curdled something in Harry’s gut to see this powerful man without his commanding presence. 

The grey light of day had begun to fade, leaving behind only the barest amount of light in the room, but Harry made no move to turn a lamp on. Something held them both in place, frozen, but aware of the other in the small space.

“I’ll—ehm—leave you to get settled in then.” Louis took a step back towards the door. “I’ll be up early to prepare for Parliament tomorrow.”

Harry wanted to protest, to tell Louis he deserved a day to recover, but he knew an assassination attempt along with a fatality wasn’t something the prime minister would put off speaking about publicly for even a day. 

“I’ll be ready.”

“That will make one of us then.” Louis tried to laugh, but the sound died in his throat. There was a tremble in his fingers as he brushed back a few stray strands of hair from his forehead. 

Harry might not know Louis well, but they’d been through something quite profound today. He wanted to offer comfort of some kind if he could, but couldn’t think what to do or what to say. Louis took one more step back towards the door at the same moment that Harry took one towards him, a dance that left Harry feeling adrift. 

Rather than opening the door, Louis leaned back against it. This infuriating, incredible man had never looked so vulnerable, and the urge to reach for him nearly overpowered his judgement. 

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“You’re allowed to touch me, you know? I’m not the queen.”

Harry moved slowly, careful to give Louis time to stop him. He reached out a hand, entangling their fingers together before stepping closer to slide his arms around Louis in an embrace that filled the room with anticipation.

He held onto Louis’ lithe frame, trying to offer comfort, but Louis’ hands slipped up and around his neck. Harry took hold of them and brought them up and over Louis’ head, pinning them to the door behind him. Louis gasped, but his eyes held only interest and desire. 

Louis sagged further against Harry. “Please.”

He’d known from the moment he met Louis that he’d be a danger to his peace of mind, but there seemed to be something greater at play here than comfort and a shared trauma. The way Louis melted into his arms gave Harry back the control he’d been looking for since the first bullet hit the Jaguar. 

It would be a lie to say that he hadn’t thought about this before now. 

With one hand, he gripped Louis’ chin and felt his breath against his lips. He studied the pleading look in Louis’ eyes and the exquisite features even more intoxicating when they were this close and in reach. When he’d fantasized about this moment, he hadn’t realised how pliant a man like Louis could become. Even the stubble beneath Harry’s fingertips surprised him, soft instead of prickly. 

Louis’ lips parted in invitation, and Harry accepted, keeping hold of Louis’ chin as he tasted what had been offered. The moan he captured from Louis’ lips fueled him further as he deepened the kiss, letting go of his chin only to begin tugging at his clothes. 

He was still dressed as the prime minister, in white dress shirt and suit and tie, though now the blazer hung on the back of the chair in his study and his sleeves had been rolled up his arms. He was more dishevelled like this than in the few times Harry had seen him dressed more casually, but the rumpled clothing reminded him too much of what was almost lost this afternoon. 

Harry removed the clothing piece by piece until Louis stood before him in nothing at all. He didn’t bother to pretend not to stare. Harry drank in the sight before him, a man in his fifties who spent too much time in an office and had no business looking this attractive, his body still lean with a hint of softness through his belly. Though the light smattering of hair on his chest had gone mostly grey, the trail of hair leading down his stomach was still dark. 

Under Harry’s gaze, Louis stood trembling, but hard. It was intoxicating to know the effect he had on Louis. Harry reached for him then, the light touch of his fingers wrapping around Louis’ cock had him gasping. He felt rather than saw Louis’ hands on his shoulders, the sight of his hand around him too much to look away from.

“Harry—your—your clothes.”

Harry ignored the request. “Just tell me if I’ve got this wrong. At any point you can tell me to stop and I will.”

Louis’ eyes drooped closed, and he let out a moan as Harry’s other hand gripped at his narrow waist just before letting go of him to turn him around. Harry pressed himself against Louis’ lovely arse, one hand again wrapping around his cock and the other across his chest as he began to lead them towards the bed without losing an inch of contact.

As they reached the side of the tall bed, Louis rubbed back against his own hard, clothed cock. “Minx.” He bent Louis over the side of the bed, letting one hand run down his back until reaching the firm plumpness of Louis’ rather legendary arse. 

He left him like that, exposed, as he backed away to reach for his bag. Louis whimpered into the duvet at his absence. He grabbed a few things and tossed them on the bed next to them before finally unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers just enough to pull his pants down to release his own cock from the confines of his clothes.

Grabbing the tube from the bed, he flipped open the cap on the lube and spread it generously to his fingers. He let his cock rest up against Louis’ skin as he slowly entered him with his fingers, just enough to get him as slick as possible. 

Louis trembled, his fingers clutching the duvet, and Harry knew instinctively what he needed. Pulling his fingers from the heat of Louis’ body, he took both of his hands up and over his head, keeping one large hand across both wrists. Louis’ body instantly calmed.

With his free hand, Harry slid a condom on, slicking himself up before positioning the head of his cock at the entrance to Louis’ body. There was something delicious about the sight of Louis spread out before him whilst he remained mostly clothed as though he could simply zip up and walk right out the door with no one the wiser.

“Please,” Louis begged.

With one slow thrust, Harry pushed into him, and with that act, something inside him settled. Outside this room, Harry had only so much control over keeping this man beneath him safe, but inside this bedroom he could give them what they both needed. 

Chapter Text

The cold light of day brought with it the harsh reality that Harry had made a rather massive mistake. Sleeping with the person you’re protecting was pretty much number one on the list of things not to do as a PPO. Surely, Louis knew this, and once they had a chance to speak in private, they wouldl agree this was a mistake that wasn’t to be repeated.

They simply got caught up in the moment. Harry tried to tamp down on any further thoughts about it. Now was not the time or place to think about anything other than safely transporting Louis to and from Parliament today.

To say there was an increased press presence outside was a huge understatement. Harry had never been so glad that Downing Street was so cordoned off from the public. Multiple vehicles were used as decoys, and as the new driver drove towards Westminster, the increased security presence was quite obvious even out on the streets.

Harry couldn’t help but keep glancing back at Louis, trying to assess his mental state at being in a vehicle not even twenty four hours after having been shot at in one, but Louis’ face was set in near perfect composure as he flipped through a binder. Bypassing the more obvious entrance into the Palace of Westminster was Harry’s idea, but even the prime minister looked relieved at not having to face the horde of press out in the open. 

Louis remained unflappable amidst the MPs and their questions, though Harry wondered if many of them held back anything too pointed after yesterday’s assassination attempt. Probably not good public relations to be seen haranguing the prime minister when the entire country seemed to be rallying around him.

As they walked out of the session, the Home Secretary stood just outside as though waiting for the prime minister.

“Ah, Prime Minister. Good to see you looking so well after yesterday’s debacle.”

Louis’ jaw twitched. “Do you need something, Winston?”

“No. Just wanted to reassure you that the Home Office is of course leading the charge on finding out who wants you dead. Obviously, our first thoughts went to domestic terrorists. Or possibly a well funded foreign cell. We’ll likely need to keep this increase in security measures for some time to come. I’m sure you’re coming to the same conclusions as I am regarding the security bill.”

“I wouldn’t be entirely sure that our minds are in concert, Winston.”

“We all know you to be a notoriously private man, but perhaps we should look more closely at those nearest to you. Could be an inside job and we may need to investigate any terrorist ties amongst your staff.”

An incredulous look came over the prime minister’s face. “You think my staff haven’t been properly vetted?”

“Well, for instance Malik could have ties that—”

“I advise you to stop now before I hear whatever bigoted shite nearly came out of your mouth.”

Winston simply shrugged. “Just a thought.”

Louis turned and strode off in the opposite direction without another word. 

Much of the rest of the day Harry spent standing outside the prime minister’s office watching the daily goings on, although nerves were clearly shot after yesterday’s attempt on Louis’ life. Harry pulled out his mobile and sent a message to Director General Payne that he’d like to see him at his earliest convenience. 

When Payne showed up shortly after the message, Harry radioed for cover before he led him to an empty office. “There was an encounter at Parliament this morning between L—the prime minister and the Home Secretary.”

Payne raised an eyebrow. “Tension between them any more than usual?”

“Yes, sir. I believe so, sir. I wondered if we might be able to put some preliminary tracking on the Home Secretary until we know more.”

“You think the Home Secretary is the one attempting to kill the prime minister or the one trying to out him?” Payne sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Or both?”

“I’m not certain, sir. But my instincts are telling me there’s more than a political rivalry going on here. And to be blunt, my instincts as a veteran of MI6 are pretty damn good.”

The Director General nodded. “I’ll obviously keep this close to the vest.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Harry had hoped for a chance to speak with Louis about last night, but honestly, he had no idea what he should say anyway. Perhaps it was best that whatever discussion they had was held after Louis finished for the day. Or perhaps, last night was something to be forgotten and never spoken of between them. Not that Harry could forget the feeling of Louis’ body beneath him or the sound of his voice begging him for release. 

As he escorted Louis back to the residence and was about to clear the rooms, he heard voices. 

“He’s fine. Just a little scratched up and—oh, I heard him coming in now.” Louis tensed at either the sound of his wife’s voice or the thought of who she was speaking to. 

“Sir, you can wait in the sitting room with her if you like whilst I clear the residence. I’ll call someone in to sit with you.”

Louis nodded, his mouth set in a hard line as he followed Harry into the sitting room to find his father-in-law sitting in a wingback chair with one leg slung over the other. Honor looked decidedly glad to see Louis, or perhaps just to see another person to interfere with this conversation. 

Harry stood in the doorway as he motioned over the PPO at the door to stand in his place as he cleared the rooms of the residence. He focused in on each room, trying not to let himself be distracted by whatever was going on in the sitting room. 

He released the other PPO at the door and began to listen intently at the door.

“—requires vigilance, Louis.”

“The security bill is out of line, Simon . It’s quite far reaching and an encroachment of our citizen’s rights.”

“What good are their rights if the prime minister and countless other civilians are dead?”

“Dad, I think Louis knows what he’s—”

“Do you even know what group is behind all this? Foreign? Domestic? Lone shooter? Is it all tied to the bombing?”

“You know I can’t speak to you about that. And the bomb wasn’t set off, so I’d hardly call it a bombing.”

“I see you’re taking this lightly. Even an attempt on your own life hasn’t changed your mind.”

“Dad, he’s not—”

Harry heard footsteps and slid over a step so as not to be so obviously listening at the door. Louis strode out of the room and towards the stairs, tearing at his tie and top buttons of his white dress shirt, as Harry followed closely behind him. 

It did not seem to be the best time to bring up last night, but Louis flung open the door to his bedroom without shutting the door behind him. Harry followed behind, unsure of what to say as Louis tossed the tie on the bed before turning to Harry, eyes blazing. 

Harry swallowed down the near desperate desire to give Louis what he needed. His frozen posture must have given away some of his reluctance because Louis turned away from him towards a wardrobe that he pressed his hands to, his head hanging down between them as he took long, gulping breaths.

When he turned back to Harry, the look in his eyes had changed. “So is this when you tell me what a mistake last night was?”

“Ehm—”

“Were you not going to even talk about it? Did you think we’d just go on as if nothing had happened?”

“No. I was going to speak with you when I had you alone.”

Louis gave a mirthless laugh. “Well, we’re alone now.”

Harry’s head was spinning. “Do you not think it was—I mean, don’t you think it’s—”

With a shake of his head, Louis turned away from him again, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. “I’m going out. If you think you need to accompany me, that’s fine.”

“Oh. I mean, of course. I’m here to protect you, so—”

“I’m going to my club, Harry.”

His face hardened. “Louis—that’s not a good idea.”

“I think if you come along, I’ll prove you wrong. There’s little chance at all that anyone from the club has outed me. Not even the proprietor knows it’s me.” Louis threw the shirt on the bed before opening the wardrobe and shrugging on a black button down that he didn’t bother to button.

Harry frowned, trying not to stare at the visible bits of Louis’ chest and torso. “How is that possible?”

“Honor set up the entire thing for me.”

“Did she?” Harry found he was genuinely surprised, though by now he should realise the prime minister was full of surprises.

“And she has no reason to out me. Our arrangement works well for her. And she’d never do anything to ruin my career.” Louis began buttoning up his shirt. “If you want to keep your professionalism, maybe you should leave whilst I change my trousers.”

Harry cleared his throat and headed to the door, waiting just on the other side of it. He felt like hitting his head against it a few times, but he supposed that wasn’t professional either. When Louis emerged in very fitted black trousers, Harry put all his effort into not admiring the fit of them.

Louis smirked as though he knew what Harry was trying to do. “Come along now. We’ll go get a pint at my favourite pub.”

Relief washed over Harry, and he obediently followed Louis to a waiting car. 

The Rose & Dagger appeared to be as nondescript as any local pub, but Harry truly should have known better. Instead of stopping at the bar for a drink, Louis headed straight through the place and out the back entrance, stopping in the passage behind the pub.

It amazed Harry that Louis could walk right through a pub and not have anyone notice the prime minister walking by, but he supposed there was something to be said for expectations. No one currently having a pint at the bar and shouting at the telly over football even turned around to see who had entered.

Louis looked at him expectantly as though waiting for him to catch on. Harry glanced about the narrow dark alley until he noticed a door on the other side of it. Louis raised an eyebrow as though congratulating him on his understanding. 

“Here.” Louis tossed something into his hand, and it took Harry a moment to realise what it was he was holding. 

Holding it out, it became obvious that it was a black domino mask. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Aren’t I always?” Louis took out his own half-mask and placed it over his distinctive features. 

Harry had to admit that covering up the top half of Louis’ face did make him less recognisable, but surely not to anyone who knew him well. Before Harry could make a protest, Louis knocked at the door three times. 

The door swung open just as Harry slapped the mask on his face. 

The burly man stood in the doorway immediately addressed them. “Hello, Tom. See you brought a friend. That’s different, innit it? Well, your usual room is fine today.” 

Louis didn’t speak, just nodded and headed left down a dimly lit hall. Muffled, though loud, music pumped through the club as they walked by rooms with black, leather couches and others with cages and swings, chains and walls full of whips and blindfolds and mirrors. Then came more private rooms with large black beds, some with windows on the doors. 

Harry peeked in, seeing people in various positions and some with multiple partners. They also walked by the occasional staff member carrying towels or bed linens who barely noticed their presence.

As they reached a door numbered twenty-eight, Louis opened it to reveal a simple room like most of the other private rooms, but with no window on the door and no mirrors. Harry opened his mouth to ask what the hell happened next when Louis began talking.

“Johnny, the man at the door, he’ll send someone back for me. I’ll keep my mask on the entire time. And I won’t utter a word.”

“So that’s how this works then?”

“That’s how this works. For me, anyway.” Louis sat on the bed, kicking off his shoes. “You can wait outside unless you’d like to watch. I’ve never tried that, but I suppose it’s not anything you haven’t already seen.”

Harry began pacing the room. “So I’m just supposed to wait outside the door while you let some stranger fuck you?”

“That’s the idea, yes.” Louis smirked. “Or I suppose I could fuck them if they’re into it. They always state upfront what they’ll do or not do.”

“But—but you—you can’t.” Harry’s voice held something akin to panic in it. “It’s not—safe.”

“Condoms are in the drawer there. I never go out into the bar or dance area of the club. Everyone here has signed an NDA, and no one knows who I am. Even if I look familiar to anyone, do you really think anyone suspects the prime minister is here?”

“But whoever it is will just be a stranger. How will they know what you want if you can’t even speak to them?”

“I take what I can get to be honest.” Louis shrugged and scooted back on the bed. A flash of emotion crossed his face. “This is the only release I have, and I clearly won’t ever have anything more than this.”

This had gone far enough. “Get up.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Get up. We’re leaving.”

“Harry—”

“I can give you what you need.” His words hung in the air, too late to take them back. “I can give you more than this.”

“If you’re going to tell me it was all a mistake tomorrow, what’s the point? How is that any different than what I do with a nameless man here? At least then I know the score.”

“You’re not a mistake, Louis.” Harry cleared his throat. “I might be making a mistake because I’ve made things personal between us, but you’re not a mistake. And you deserve more than this.”

It was hard to distinguish Louis’ expression with a mask over his face, but he slid off the bed and began putting his shoes back on. As Louis followed him back out of the club, his sense of duty tore at him. Never before had he allowed something like this to happen. He wasn’t a rookie for fuck’s sake, and he wasn’t a teenager with raging hormones dictating his actions. There was just something about Louis that did his head in.

He left Louis at the door and marched through the rooms, quickly clearing them before returning to escort Louis back to his room. His hand naturally guided Louis with his fingers at the small of his back, and he hoped the guards at the door saw nothing out of place in it.

This entire night had gone to hell and against every one of Harry’s intentions, and whilst part of his brain urged him to just keep going, another part urged him to take a moment. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Having second thoughts, are you?”

“I’m—no, not—”

Louis strode into the guest room in that commanding way of his as though he wasn’t invading Harry’s personal space. And honestly, Harry didn’t even think about not letting him do as he wished. No wonder the country followed this man’s every word and action, he’d clearly fallen under his spell, too.

Louis began unbuttoning his shirt just as he had earlier in the night, but this time he held Harry’s gaze as he unbuttoned each button, leaving the shirt open without taking it off. Next, his fingers flipped open the button and slid down the zipper of his black trousers before he shucked them off to the floor. 

The outline of Louis’ hardness pressed against the tight black boxer briefs, making Harry’s mouth water. As Louis reached into his pants to wrap his fist around himself, Harry knew when he was being taunted. He watched Louis’ lips fall open in a gasp apparently at the thought of Harry watching him pleasure himself, but frustration still crossed his face as he slid his hand. 

Harry took deliberate steps closer to him until he reached for Louis’ wrist to still his hand. “You don’t have to do that. Let me give you what you want, Lou.”

“Thought you wanted to take a shower.” But then the lines on Louis’ face softened . All the control Louis wielded in the daylight could be set aside, and Harry would take care of him as he deserved. But Harry saw now that Louis giving up control had nothing to do with giving up his power. He simply trusted Harry to provide what he needed. 

Harry kept hold of one wrist before threading his fingers through the soft hair at the back of Louis’ neck, pulling him closer. As soon as his lips met Louis’ in a warm, wet kiss, Louis opened his mouth for him, letting him deepen it.

He pulled back from the kiss to the sounds of Louis’ whimpers. “What do you want, Louis?”

“Anything. Whatever you’ll give me.”

Harry frowned. “I’m here to protect you, to take care of you. I need to know exactly what you want. I don’t want to guess even if I have some ideas of what you might need.”

“I want to let go.” A look of frustration crossed Louis’ face, one that Harry had already become attuned to. “I want to be able to let go. I want you to hold me down until I come undone.”

Harry’s heart pounded a little harder in his chest. “Is that all of what you want?”

“For now.”

“That’s enough then—for now.” Harry drank in Louis’ bright smile, unable to stop himself from pressing a kiss to the corner of his eyes where they crinkled up a bit. “Now go lay down on the bed, take off your pants and no touching.”

Louis slid his pants off and climbed onto the bed, propping himself against the pillows and watching Harry with heavy lidded eyes. “Are you going to take your clothes off this time?”

Harry tutted. “Eager, are we?”

“To see what’s under the suit this time? Yes.”

Harry grinned before shrugging off his suit jacket and dropping it over the back of a chair. He didn’t bother undoing every button of his shirt, instead pulling it up and over his head once it was loosened. The catch of Louis’ breath caught his notice.

Harry knew what his body looked like. His career had kept him in good condition over the years, but he wasn’t in his twenties anymore. There were scars written across his body from the years of work he’d done. The dark lines of his tattoos had faded, his skin no longer taut across his muscles, but the lust clearly written across Louis’ face fed his ego in a way it hadn’t been fed in years. 

As he pulled his trousers down to reveal himself fully, the small noise Louis made at the sight of him forced his eyes back to the gorgeous man on his bed. Desire looked good on Louis. But then again, what didn’t look good on Louis?

He stalked to the bed, slowly climbing over Louis, his hands drawn to all the skin on display before him. Harry allowed himself the pleasure of caressing up the sides of Louis’ body and beneath his arms until he reached his wrists. He pushed Louis’ arms up and over his head until his fingers reached the bronzed metal scrolls of the headboard. 

“Don’t let go.” Harry's voice rasped with want. Louis nodded, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

With Louis’ hands taken care of, he pinned his legs down to the bed as he leaned in towards Louis’ cock, hard and standing at attention. His breath feathered over it, and Louis moaned, gripping the headboard more tightly. 

Harry huffed out a laugh. “So eager.”

“Tease.”

He grinned up at Louis from his position. “Maybe I like to flirt a bit first.”

“This is what you call flirting? Your mouth an inch away from my cock is flirting, is it?” Louis asked between gritted teeth. “Christ, that fucking smug look on your face. Your dimples have been teasing me since the first moment I saw them.”

“Dimples are what gets you going, huh?”

“Sod off.” Louis tried to buck up a bit, but his legs were still firmly held down. Just as Louis opened his mouth to say something else, Harry pressed a kiss to the softness of his belly. Louis squirmed, whatever he’d been about to say lost on his lips. 

Harry held fast. His fingers pressed into the flesh of Louis’ thighs as he sucked Louis into his mouth. His moans were glorious music to Harry’s ears, but he didn’t want Louis coming like this. He pulled his mouth off of him, licking his lips as he did so to the sound of Louis’ protests. 

“Wouldn’t you rather come with me inside you?” As he positioned himself between Louis’ legs, he had a sudden urge to plunge right into him, wanting to stake a claim that wasn’t his to stake.

Rummaging through the bedside table, he found a condom that he tore open and rolled on as quickly as he could. He slicked his fingers up generously, circling over the tight rim of muscles with his thumb until Louis panted for Harry to fuck him already.

Slipping his finger into the heat of Louis’ body did his head in. Last time, he hadn’t seen Louis face as he entered him, but now he greedily watched the expressions on Louis’ face, the way his mouth fell open as he watched Harry prepare him.

Once slick enough, Harry slipped his fingers from Louis. Using one hand to hold Louis' leg aloft, he used the other to position himself properly. This time entering Louis was a revelation. What a fool he’d been to take Louis bent over the bed where he couldn’t see the way he revealed himself. 

Now, he knew what he’d missed. The tension where there’d been softness, the sheen of sweat at his brow, the way his hair fell across his forehead in dampened strands of brown and grey. Harry’s movements became erratic as he fought to control the rhythm he’d begun. 

Releasing Louis’ leg allowed Harry to lean in to drink in his moans with his mouth and brought their bodies closer together. Never had Harry felt this intense, primal need to be closer. When he finally felt his own body unable to hold off any longer, he held himself up on one arm to wrap a hand around Louis, pumping his fist around him. 

Harry could no longer hold out. He heard his own groan echo in the room as he came, one hand still around Louis. And then, Louis unraveled before him in a desperate clench of muscles and blue eyes shimmering at his own release. 

Harry had never seen anything more glorious in his life.

“You’re different like this,” Louis said into the quiet of the room, his fingers entangled in Harry’s hair.

“How so?” Harry murmured, his head on Louis’ chest, listening to the thump of his heart.

“You intimidate people. Which obviously is a good thing in your line of work. You’re not just playing the hero, Harry, you are the hero out there. But here, when we’re alone together—you’re so open and relaxed. I mean, you obviously know how to take charge—”

Harry laughed into the wiry hair beneath his cheek. “Taking charge of a situation is kind of my thing. Kind of your thing as well really. Just uh—in a different way in the bedroom.”

Louis snorted.

“You said I intimidate people, but—” Harry ran his fingers down Louis’ bicep. “I don’t intimidate you.”

He felt the huff of breath from Louis. “No one intimidates me, Harry. I’m the prime minister.”

“Fair enough.” He smiled as he pressed a kiss to the skin so close to his lips.

“Mmm,” Louis’ chest rumbled.

Harry listened as Louis’ breathing became even and his fingers stilled in his hair. Maybe it was absolutely mad to be so content as he lay in bed with the closeted prime minister whose life was in danger, but he fell asleep with a smile on his face as he drifted off next to the man he’d vowed to protect.

Chapter Text

Each day that passed without any new information from Director Payne set Harry’s nerves on edge, but he couldn’t let that affect his vigilance in protecting Louis. Clearly, the lack of news affected Louis as well, but he did well to mask it during the day. Though at night, he let the pressure show, and then Harry would take him apart and settle his mind.

This morning was like most of the others before it since Harry had begun his time as a PPO. Louis’ staff spoke with varying degrees of anxiety about the Home Secretary going on a news program this afternoon and what he might say. 

Louis had spent the morning holed up with his press secretary and communications director, likely strategising for possible outcomes of Winston’s upcoming interview, which gave Louis a good view of the entire office area as he stood guard. Just as his earpiece began to relay information, the screens in the office area began blaring the news of a bombing.

Harry immediately identified the financial district area in the news footage just as Louis burst out of his office, staring at the screens, before immediately turning to Harry. So much information came in at once as Harry tried to take in what he was seeing on the screen and what was being relayed in his ears. 

“That’s Honor’s building.”

The horror in Louis’ voice cut through everything else to gain Harry’s full attention. “What?”

“That’s where Honor works.” Louis’ eyes pleaded with him as though Harry could somehow do anything to make this better. 

Mobiles began buzzing in every corner of the office. Louis’ chief of staff appeared at Louis’ side. “Winston’s called as well as Director General Payne. Do you know where Honor is right now?”

Louis snapped back into himself and dashed back into his office with Harry and Zayn Malik on his heels. Louis’ hands shook as he called. 

“Honor?” A wave of relief came over Louis’ face as he apparently heard her voice and collapsed into his chair. Harry felt the tension in his shoulders lessen. “You’re at lunch. Fuck. Thank god. No. I don’t know casualties yet. Don’t know how the media got there so quickly but it’s directly in The City, so I suppose it was quite easy to arrive there nearly as fast as the authorities. I will. Just come home. Don’t stay at the restaurant. I don’t know anything yet, but be safe. Will talk to you when you get here.”

“You think she was a target?” Zayn asked.

“You don’t?” Louis said, wiping a hand across his face.

“I’ll be just outside the door.” Harry turned to walk out and tuned back into whatever was being said in his earpiece.

“Styles, if you hear anything—”

Harry turned back to face Louis. “I doubt they’d tell me more than you, sir.”

“Sir?” Zayn held a mobile out to Louis. “It’s Director General Payne.”

Louis grabbed the mobile as Harry closed the door behind him.

Pieces of news came over his radio in bits as chaotic as what he was seeing on the screen. It had to have been an attack with Honor in mind, but what good did it really do to set a bomb outside her workplace? A security guard and doorman had been seriously injured as well as a few unlucky people who had been walking by when something detonated outside the building.

Not long after Harry had stepped out, Payne showed up. “I don’t want to take you off duty, but I need to speak with you for a moment.”

Harry nodded walking down away from the main office space that still had a view of the door to Louis’ office. “Was Honor the intended target?”

“We’d have to assume so,” Payne said. “But to me it looks more like a warning rather than an attempt on her life. Is she here yet?”

“No. But from what I could hear, it sounded like she was on her way.”

“Good. We obviously can’t be too careful.” Payne glanced back at the office area. “She was having lunch with her father. If anyone was watching the building or CCTV, they would have seen her leave well before the bomb detonated. We’re surveilling CCTV footage now. I’ve got some intelligence on Mr. Caldwell. Just—keep a close watch over Louis in his presence.”

“You think Honor’s father is behind this?” 

“If he is, I don’t think he’s acting alone.” Payne nodded to him before walking back with him towards Louis’ office. “But if it helps, I think I know who it is. Always follow the money.”

After a closed door meeting with Payne, the press secretary and communications director nearly bowled Louis over when he opened the door, speaking over one another about holding a press conference. It looked to Harry like they were about to begin showing Louis what they’d already begun writing for him, when everyone’s attention zeroed in on Ben Winston’s face across the screens.

He apparently couldn’t wait for his scheduled interview and was holding a press conference of his own outside the Home Office. His smug face hardly matched the words he spoke.

“—We can no longer afford to wait to act! When even the Prime Minister’s wife can not be kept safe, we must do more! I am calling on all those in parliament to help us in our efforts to pass the Revised Investigatory Powers Act 2021. We must be able to increase our security services’ ability to surveil and monitor in the face of these ever-increasing terror threats!”

As Winston left his makeshift stage, everyone could hear the questions being thrown at him, mostly regarding whether this was an attempt to usurp the prime minister. And Harry couldn’t help but think that Winston’s little speech seemed to have been written awfully fast.

Chapter Text

As Louis took meetings with MPs and appeared in press conferences and met with MI5, he appeared utterly unflappable. But Harry knew better. 

Each night Harry unraveled the fear and the tension from Louis’ body and in the process his own. He couldn’t afford to let emotions overrule his ability to do this job, one that had become more and more personal to him. 

In the darkness as he listened to Louis’ even breathing, he knew he was fooling himself. He should have immediately told the Director General as soon as he involved himself with Louis, but could anyone truly protect Louis the way he could? 

He unwrapped himself from Louis’ arms in the morning, though no light had even begun to show through the windows. Silently, he returned to his own room and quickly showered and dressed before calling for a PPO to stand outside Louis’ bedroom as he took a car to Thames House to meet with Payne.

Harry had seen the Director General look better. 

“Sorry to call you off duty, but it’s important.”

“Of course, sir.” Harry nodded. “Have you found any evidence that supports your theory?”

“Yes. I’m going to be blunt because I need you back on duty as soon as possible, but I couldn’t risk information being overheard.”

Harry didn’t like the sound of that.

“To start with, we know Caldwell was behind the text message about Louis’ sexuality. He’s one of the few people who knew Louis was gay. But to be honest, that’s not the worst of it. We’ve found communications between Caldwell and clearly someone from inside. Perhaps an MP or someone with enormous access to the prime minister. And there is a clear monetary connection between Caldwell and the group behind the sniper and bomber.”

“Why would he—” Heart beating harder in his chest, Harry leaned forward in the chair. “Have you arrested him yet?”

Payne grimaced. “We can’t find him.”

“You can’t find him?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Simon Caldwell has a lot of influence and a lot of resources at his disposal. And as we have arrested the men who planted the bomb outside Honor Tomlinson’s office, he’s likely been tipped off.”

“Of course.” 

“We also need to know who his contact is within the government. I don’t know that arresting him is going to help us with that, but I think it’s what we’re going to have to do.”

Harry frowned. “But as you said, perhaps it would be better to just follow him more closely and—”

“Harry, we have intelligence that you’re also a target.”

“What?” Harry sat back in the chair, a bit stunned.

“I’m not going to ask what’s going on between you and Louis because frankly I don’t want to pull you off this assignment, but it’s clear Caldwell thinks something is going on and thinks you’d make a good target as well to get to the prime minister. I suppose it’s also possible that he simply thinks eliminating you helps him in his effort to get to Louis.” Liam sighed. “Either way, you and everyone around Louis is in imminent danger and arresting him is the only option right now.”

“If you could find him.”

“If we could find him and arrest him as quietly as possible. As for the why, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Caldwell’s business interests align with Louis supporting the security bill that he clearly does not support.” Payne leaned back in his chair, the creaking sound of it seeming to punctuate his feelings. “Any chance we can keep the prime minister from going to Parliament today?”

Harry snorted. “Not likely.”

“Just stay close to him.”

“Of course, sir. As always I’ll protect him with my life.”

When he returned to 11 Downing Street, Louis had just emerged from his bedroom dressed impeccably to answer MPs questions. Louis asked no questions of him, though he wasn’t sure he’d know how to answer him if he had. 

After Parliament, a meeting had been set up with Payne, so perhaps there would be some strategising regarding his father in law. It finally occurred to Harry that if Caldwell was behind all of this, was Honor involved as well? Yet another thing to consider, but not now, not when he needed to put all his concentration on Louis’ immediate safety.

Harry, so attuned to Louis’ movements, noticed when he tensed as they entered the armoured Jaguar. Clearly, it was difficult to get past the memories of snipers trying to kill you and watching your driver die in front of your eyes. He peeled his gaze away from Harry and surveyed the streets as they made their way to Westminster. 

At least Louis had allowed for them to be taken to a less accessible entrance. As he escorted Louis inside, movement caught his eye as they walked through the members’ lobby. Someone was speaking to the Home Secretary who clearly looked flustered and not at all like the smug git he usually looked. 

As Louis entered the Chamber, Harry kept a lookout for Winston. The crowded room made it difficult to spot him, but he eventually found him just north of an exit as Louis began to take questions. The hair on the back of Harry’s neck stood up at the sight of the Home Secretary fidgeting and wiping his brow. 

Harry had been trained to notice when something felt off, and it became obvious that something with the Home Secretary was very wrong indeed. Instincts kicked in as soon as he saw Winston slip out the exit. All subtlety flew out the window as Harry bolted towards the exit after him.

Louis abruptly stopped talking mid-sentence, presumably noticing his PPO racing out of the room, but Harry had to figure out what was happening and needed to figure it out now. 

Winston did not see it coming.

By the time the Home Secretary turned at the sound of Harry’s heavy footfall, he was close enough to tackle Winston to the ground. They landed with a thud onto the marble floor. Winston groaned, and Harry knew his entire left side would be bruised. 

“Let go of me!”

“What are you doing? Why did you leave?”

“Let me up! Just going to find the loo!”

“So if I let you up, you’ll head to the loo?”

A wild look crossed Winston’s face. “Let me up you, fool! You’ll kill us both!”

“What?”

People had begun to stream out into the lobby. Clearly, the prime minister’s PPO running out of the room had been enough to alarm people. 

“Bomb!” Winston yelled. “Bomb! There’s a bomb!”

Adrenaline and instinct pumped through him as he jumped to his feet, one knee nearly buckling beneath him as he still held tightly to Winston’s arm. There was no time to deal with that though. Through the chaos of MPs now attempting to evacuate the Chambers, he searched for Louis. A small sense of relief raced through him at the sight of Louis running towards him. 

“What’s happeni—”

“Go! Run, Louis! Get out of here!” Harry shouted as he strong-armed Winston to his feet and began dragging him towards an exit. But Louis didn’t leave his side as he pulled an injured Winston through the doors of the lobby. “Find a PPO outside! Get in the car!”

Officers dashed past them towards the Chamber, but two stopped at the sight of Harry gripping the Home Secretary. Harry nearly threw Winston into their arms. “He’s the one who said there’s a bomb, so he’s who you want to question.”

Without another word, he grabbed Louis’ arm and began hustling him through the stream of people towards the exit and into a waiting car. Just as the car pulled away from the kerb, the distinctive sonic boom of a bomb exploded through the air. 

“Fuck!” 

They all cringed at the sound.

“Keep driving!” Harry turned to look through the back window as the driver sped away, plumes of smoke rising from Westminster as people ran from the building. 

As adrenaline receded from his veins, he realised he needed to contact MI5, so they knew Louis was safe. “Control seven five. Rover on the move. En route to residence.”

“Received seven five.”

The driver made record time to Downing Street considering what they’d just left behind them. Relief flooded through him as he escorted Louis into the residence, finally knowing Louis was safe. Louis began walking towards the staircase when they both heard voices coming from the den.

“Sir, stay by the door until I’ve cleared—”

But Louis had flung open the door, and his wife had thrown herself into his arms. “Thank god. I was so worried! They told me to wait here and wouldn’t tell me if you were alive or—”

Louis patted her on the back with a smile. “No worries. I had Styles here to keep me safe. Still don’t have a clue what’s going on, though Styles must know something seeing as how he chased Winston out of the chambers and tackled him.”

It’s then that Harry glanced further into the room and saw Simon Caldwell sitting on the sofa pointing a gun at him. Louis stiffened, and Honor turned. “Dad? What are you doing? Oh my god—”

“It’s all over, Caldwell.” Harry held his hands up in the air, willing Simon not to shoot. Fairly sure now Ben Winston had indeed been the inside man, he thought maybe that was the best way to deescalate the situation. “As Louis said, Winston’s in custody. Just put the gun down and come quietly. You don’t want anyone else to get hurt. You don’t want Honor to get hurt. I know you don’t. You wouldn’t have deliberately made sure she was safe before the bomb went off if you didn’t.”

Simon shook his head, his eyes narrowed in fury as he turned the gun on Louis. “You could have just done what I told you and none of this would have happened. So many dead because you didn’t listen to sense.”

“I hardly think funding your weapons manufacturing with government contracts could be considered listening to sense. Did you really think killing me was how to get your way?”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

Louis snorted. “Could have fooled me.”

Harry desperately wished for Louis to stop talking, to not provoke Simon into pulling the trigger. He considered whether lunging for Simon would work or if the gun would go off and hit Louis or Honor in the process. 

“Well, you’re not dead, are you? Just stubborn as a bloody mule.”

“Dad, please don’t do this—” 

“Honor, this has nothing to do with you.”

“Then, let her leave,” Harry said, fairly certain he could count on Honor to tell someone what was happening. “Let Honor out of the room.”

Simon turned a furious look on Harry. “Do you take me for a fool? I know my own daughter. She’ll try to do the right thing.”

“What’s your plan, then, Simon?” Louis sneered. “From where I stand it looks like you're cornered.”

Harry nearly groaned aloud. Louis apparently did not have training in de-escalation. “We can help you leave. Let’s just all take a little walk down the hall and out the back to whatever car you’ve got waiting. I assume you have access to a private jet that can take you somewhere without an extradition treaty to the UK.”

Simon didn’t say anything but he began inching his way towards the door, his gun trained on Louis. “Just keep your hands to your sides, so I can see them.”

There was zero chance Harry was going to let Simon have a gun to their backs, so he knew he’d have to make a move at just the right time. At this point, he didn’t want to rely on Louis’ ability to follow directions that were shouted at him in the heat of the moment.

At the same time that he kicked Louis in the shin with his left foot, he yelled, “Get down!” And with his right elbow hit Simon’s wrist upward, causing the gun to go off into the ceiling. Honor screamed, and Harry grasped Simon’s wrist, trying to break his hold on the gun. 

Just as he snapped Simon’s wrist backwards, the gun discharged again. Harry’s ears rang at the noise so close to him, and a pain so severe he’d never felt anything quite like it before. Officers streamed into the room, tackling Simon to the floor and disarming him just as Harry dropped to his knees. Something wet dripped down his shoulder and onto his sleeves.

Louis’ handsome face swam before him. He tried to reach for him just as darkness shuttered his vision.

Harry woke to the sounds of beeps and low voices. Searing pain shot through his right shoulder that made him gasp when he tried to move. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for him to realise he was in hospital.

He struggled to open his eyes, not even the pain enough to break through the grogginess at first, but he forced his mind to focus. Louis. The bomb. Simon. The gun. It didn’t take a genius to realise he’d been shot. 

With a groan, he tried to sit up. 

“Harry?” 

He opened his eyes to the sight of Louis, hovering over him. “Lou?”

“Yeah, love. I’m right here. How are you feeling?”

Louis’ fingers brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across Harry’s face. He tried to smile though he wasn’t entirely sure he managed one. “Never been better.”

Louis smiled, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, looking a bit relieved that Harry was well enough to joke about it. “Well, the doctors told your sister that you were going to be fine after a lot of healing. The bullet went through your shoulder, shattered a bone there which is why you lost consciousness from the pain. But they expect you’ll make a full recovery. I think I might need a new PPO though.”

Harry’s laugh turned to a bit of a cough. “I think it’s probably time I retire to be honest. Do they have Winston and Simon in custody?”

“Yes. Well, Winston’s actually here in hospital. He was injured in the blast. Luckily, most were able to evacuate Westminster safely, but there were some serious injuries to the officers who were holding Winston and Winston himself. Payne has been in to see you and meet with me regarding all the evidence they have against both of them now.”

The tense feeling in his chest lightened a little. “Good,” he sighed.

“Liam says that you were the one who put him on the track of Winston colluding with whoever was orchestrating the attacks.”

“Yeah, well, I could see the animosity from him towards you might be something more than just a political rivalry. Didn’t really think your father in law would try to kill you though.”

Louis pulled a chair up to the bed, entwining his fingers with Harry. “I think in his twisted mind, he really wasn’t trying to kill me, just scare me enough to do what he wanted. And he didn’t care about anyone caught in the crossfire. He won’t be my father in law much longer though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Honor wants to end the marriage. After everything that’s happened, she’s decided there’s more to life than her professional image and advantageous marriage to a prime minister. Although I think her father’s to blame for any dent to her image.”

“Can’t say I blame her for wanting more out of life.”

“Speaking of wanting more out of life—” Louis cleared his throat, releasing Harry’s hand, which earned Louis a frown. “I ehm—wondered if you might be interested in—well, staying.”

Harry scrunched his face in confusion at Louis’ strange tone. “Stay? I don’t think I can protect you anytime soon with my shoulder like this.”

Louis groaned. “I’m saying this all wrong. I’m not asking you to stay as my PPO, Harry. I’m asking you to choose to stay—with me.”

“Oh.”

“I won’t say it’ll be easy. And I don’t know what the future holds for me politically or how long I’ll be in this position. I don’t know if having a public relationship is in the cards for us, but what I do know is that I want to be with you in any way that you’ll have me.”

If Harry had the energy to laugh, he would. Happiness bubbled up in his chest. “If I could, I’d tackle you onto this bed and kiss you senseless.”

Louis leaned over him, a glowing smile that matched the sparkle in his eyes. “No tackling for a while, but I’ll take that kiss.”