Work Text:
b̵͚̳̲̈́̔̿̀͌̆̂̐͒͠ě̵̙̼͎̓͛̈̌l̷͚̻̫̬̥̩͗l̸̨̨̛͚̭̼̗̦̫̮̫͓̠͔̂͋̄͛̈́̏͝s̸̨͍̲͈͔͚̦͑͒̑̿͗̂̈́̔́͝
December 23rd, 10:46pm
London
Louis swears he can see God. No, a Goddess.
Heaven.
An angel.
Every color. Maybe even a new one.
When he finally catches his breath, his eyes flutter back to the figure kneeling in front of him, the ghost of dancing light and blissful release fades from his vision.
“My darling,” he says breathlessly, slumping back against the wall of the living room before pulling up his trousers. “You spoil me.”
In one graceful motion, Harry stands up, wiping his thumb over his bottom lip and sucking on the pad of it gently. On his wrist, in the dim warm light, a Tiffany Victoria tennis bracelet sparkles. “And you spoil me.”
“I saw it on that employee’s wrist and just knew you’d adore it, darling.” Louis tenderly takes his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, right above where a beautiful Italian pearl engagement ring sits. “I knew you’d love it more than she would. You’re always so appreciative of even the little things, my love.”
Harry’s hair is artfully tied back with a silk ribbon, though a few strands were pulled loose to frame his face. He is still in his evening wear. Despite the partly unzipped back, the bottom of his little black dress riding up his thighs, and his heeled boots lying next to their feet on the floor; he looks ethereal.
The way they entered their high-rise flat was in a rush of hands and lips, tugging at clothes with tipsy giggles. So, it was no surprise they both looked disheveled after an evening at one of the finest galas in the city.
“You look so fit,” Harry murmurs, fingers moving to lace through Louis’ as he begins to tug him to the kitchen. “I think it’s time to discuss our Christmas Eve plans tomorrow. Wine?”
Louis is too busy staring at the way Harry’s legs move, the sway in his hips, the way the dress hugs everything, to register what Harry just said.
“Baby,” Harry’s sweet tone finally pulls his attention back. “I asked if you’d like a glass of wine to drink.”
A smirk finds its way onto Louis’ lips as he narrows in on his fiancé, close enough to press Harry’s back to the counter. “I’d like to drink you in a bit more instead.”
Harry gives him a playful roll of his eyes as he starts to run his painted nails down the front of Louis’ half-unbuttoned shirt, grazing the skin of his chest. “We have to discuss tomorrow, my love.”
With an exaggerated groan, Louis hooks his hands behind each of Harry’s thighs and lifts him up with ease onto the counter. He hums happily at the little gasp that escapes Harry, relishing in how his legs find their way around him. “We will, we will. Still want the red?”
“Always.”
Louis leans close and presses a line of kisses from Harry’s throat to his collarbone before reaching past him to grab the two wine glasses and the bottle of Cabernet they left out for themselves.
As Louis pours the wine, his gaze never strays far from Harry, the warm kitchen light casting a golden sheen across Harry’s skin. He sets the glasses down and takes a moment to admire his fiancé. His heart swells with something akin to reverence.
“To us,” Louis murmurs, handing Harry a glass. “And to tomorrow’s little escapade.”
Harry lifts his glass to toast against Louis’. “To us, my love. And to taking what we deserve.”
Their glasses clink together, the sound delicate, before the two of them sip long and slow; never breaking eye contact.
“Do you remember the first time we heard those bells?” Harry asks, moving to swirl his wine thoughtfully. “We were walking through St. James’s Park. It was so cold, but the sound… I’ll never forget it. It was like the bells were singing just for us.”
Louis smiles, tracing the edge of his glass with one finger. “I remember. I said they sounded like the chimes of heaven, and you—ever the romantic—said we should hear them on our wedding day.”
“And now,” Harry’s lips curve into a grin. “we will.”
Louis can’t help but laugh, low and rich. “I do love how we make each other’s dreams come true.”
Harry sets his wine down and turns to face Louis, his eyes bright. “It’s all in the details now.”
Louis takes another sip of his wine, studying Harry over the rim of his glass. “Let’s go over it once more, darling. I want everything to be flawless.”
Harry nods, reaching across the counter where they had spread out a small stack of papers—floor plans, guard schedules, and a guest list for the Christmas ball. “We’ll arrive just before midnight, blending in with the late crowd. I’ll be wearing the red dress you got me for Valentines day—
“Love that one,” Louis chimes in.
“It makes me stand out, love the way it fits. You’ll be in that midnight blue suit. They won’t question us once we get past the gate.”
Louis smiles, picturing the scene in his head. “They never do, do they?”
“Exactly,” Harry agrees, pointing to the floor plan. “We’ll slip in through the main entrance. All eyes will be on the festivities. That’s when we split up.”
Louis sets his glass down, leaning forward as he eyes Harry intently. “I’m a young CEO of my very own crypto company. Niall whipped up the business cards and created a series of articles and a website to sell the image. I’ll head to the main reception, chat up the politicians, maybe throw in a few wild stories around the palace. Priority; distract everyone.”
“Meanwhile,” Harry continues, his smile deepening the dimples in his cheeks, “I’ll cozy up to Officer Davies. He’s stationed near the east wing, where the bells are locked up. A bit of flirtation, a few well-timed compliments, and I’ll have him eating out of the palm of my hand.”
Louis chuckles, shaking his head fondly. “You’ve always been good at that.”
Harry grins, his eyes gleaming. “Once I’ve got him distracted, I’ll swipe the keycard he uses for the restricted areas. I’ll slip away while he’s too…dazed to notice.”
“And that’s when I’ll make my exit,” Louis adds. “I’ll excuse myself from the party, claiming I need some fresh air and meet you by the east wing.”
Harry nods, his fingers tracing the blueprint of the palace’s interior. “Once we’re inside, we’ll deactivate the alarms thanks to Niall’s work. I’ve already mapped out the quickest path to the bell vault. We’ll have maybe nine, maybe ten minutes tops before anyone notices something’s off.”
Louis furrows his brows as he leans in closer to examine the blueprints, his finger tracing a side corridor near the bell vault. “What about our exit? We’ll have the bells, but getting out unseen will be tricky. If anyone catches on too soon, we’ll be trapped in the east wing.”
Harry’s grin widens, his verdant eyes sparkling with excitement. “Ah, but I’ve thought of that, love. You see this window here?” He points to a small, barely noticeable mark on the blueprint, indicating a window on the far side of the east wing that’s just above the palace gardens.
Louis raises an eyebrow. “A window? Harry, we’re not exactly packing parachutes.”
Harry chuckles, shaking his head before hopping down next to Louis and taking a big sip of his wine. “No parachutes, but I do have a rope. Silk, naturally, to keep things sexy. The window leads out to a ledge above the gardens. We can rappel down, drop into the bushes, and disappear before anyone even thinks to look.”
Louis stares at him for a long moment, half incredulous, half amused. “Rappelling down the side of Buckingham Palace? That’s your brilliant escape plan?”
Harry’s grin doesn’t falter. “It’s daring, it’s dramatic, and most importantly, it’s unexpected. No one will be watching the side of the building. All eyes will be on the gates and the ballroom entrances.”
Louis considers it for a moment, then a slow smile spreads across his face. “You’re insane.”
“And you love it,” Harry teases, stepping closer and resting his hands on Louis’ hips. “Imagine it, darling: the thrill, the danger, the rush of freedom as we glide down the palace walls, the bells safe in our possession.”
Louis lets out a soft laugh, his forehead leaning against Harry’s. “You know, there are times I wonder if we’re pushing our luck.”
Harry smirks, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “But isn’t that half the fun?”
Louis hums in agreement, his lips brushing Harry’s as he speaks. “We’ll need to be quick. The rope could hold us, but we’ll each be exposed for at least thirty seconds as we climb down.”
“I’ll go first,” Harry offers, his voice serious now. “Once I’m on the ground, I’ll keep watch and make sure no one’s patrolling the gardens. You’ll follow with the bells.”
Louis’ gaze softens as he studies Harry’s face. “You always take care of me.”
“And I always will,” Harry replies, his eyes now filled with sincerity.
Louis chuckles, kissing him lightly before pulling back. “Alright, fine. We’ll rappel out of Buckingham Palace. But if we get caught—”
“We won’t,” Harry interrupts, his confidence unwavering. “By the time they realize the bells are gone, we’ll be halfway across the city.”
Louis shakes his head, laughing softly. “I do love how you always manage to turn the impossible into the inevitable.”
Harry nods. “With you by my side, nothing’s impossible.”
Louis lifts his glass one last time, clinking it against Harry’s. “To making the impossible possible.”
“And to making history,” Harry finishes, raising his glass.
Louis watches as Harry sips his wine and his eyes blink slowly. He waits for him to set his glass down on the countertop before he sets his own down next to it.
Suddenly, he scoops Harry up, lifting him off his feet and into his arms bridal style. Harry squeals in surprise, laughter bubbling up as he wraps his arms around Louis’ neck.
“Louis! What are you doing?”
“Just indulging in more of my fiancé again before our big heist,” Louis replies, grinning as he carries Harry toward the bedroom. “You can’t go robbing Buckingham Palace on an empty heart now, can you?”
Harry begins to press little kisses to Louis’ face, covering every inch he can reach. “You are crazy.”
“Only for you,” Louis says earnestly, kicking the bedroom door open with his foot. He gently sets Harry down on the bed, hands moving to rest on his cheeks, thumbing where his dimples show. “Before we risk it all, I just want you to know how much I adore you.”
Harry reaches up to pull Louis in closer by the collar of his dress shirt. “And I want to remind you how lucky I am to have you.”
In an instant, their lips are on one another and Louis climbs his way over Harry, legs straddling either side of him.
“I have got to get you out of this dress,” Louis hums, keeping his voice low as he continues to kiss against Harry’s lips and neck, sliding one hand underneath to unzip his gown entirely.
Harry is full of sweet laughter as Louis feels his hands unbutton his shirt. “And I have got to get you inside me.”
“So vulgar, baby,” Louis growls, nipping at the skin of Harry’s collarbone as he helps Harry out of his dress until he’s down to just his stockings. He looks sinful.
The way he speaks is, too.
“I thought thats how you liked me, hm?” Harry’s hands pull loose his dress shirt and his fingers run over his chest.
Louis' eyes roam over Harry's body, drinking in every curve and contour. The soft glow from the bedside lamp makes him look almost ethereal. Louis can't help but marvel at how the light catches on the diamond bracelet still adorning Harry's wrist, sending little prisms dancing across the walls.
"You're right," Louis murmurs. "I do like you this way. Wicked and wonderful."
—
December 24th, 11:14pm
London
The grand ballroom of Buckingham Palace glitters with festive opulence. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the crowd of London's elite, their laughter and chatter mingling with the soft notes of a string quartet playing a Christmas tune.
Louis adjusts his tie, scanning the room with practiced nonchalance. His tailored suit hugs his frame perfectly, giving him an air of effortless sophistication per usual. He catches his reflection in a nearby mirror and smirks. The CEO of a cutting-edge crypto company indeed.
Across the room, Harry makes his way through the crowd, and Louis' breath catches in his throat. The red dress is a masterpiece, clinging to every curve before cascading to the floor in a waterfall of silk. A daring slit reveals a tantalizing glimpse of leg with each step. Harry's curls are perfectly arranged, framing his face in soft waves.
They make eye contact briefly, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. Then, with a blow of a kiss and a wink from Harry, they begin.
Louis weaves through the crow, snatching a champagne flute from a server as he passes. He catches snippets of conversation about stock portfolios and holiday homes in the Alps. His charm is effortless as he introduces himself to a group of politicians without a second thought.
"Louis Tomlinson," he says, shaking hands with a portly man in an ill-fitting tuxedo. "Founder of CryptoNova. You might have heard of us – we're making waves in the digital currency world."
The man's eyes light up with recognition, no doubt recalling the carefully crafted online presence their cyber-specialist, Niall, had created. "Oh yes, of course! Brilliant work you're doing, my boy. Simply brilliant."
b̵͚̳̲̈́̔̿̀͌̆̂̐͒͠ě̵̙̼͎̓͛̈̌l̷͚̻̫̬̥̩͗l̸̨̨̛͚̭̼̗̦̫̮̫͓̠͔̂͋̄͛̈́̏͝s̸̨͍̲͈͔͚̦͑͒̑̿͗̂̈́̔́͝
Across the room, Harry glides through the throng of partygoers like a vision in red. His dress glides against the polished floor and he notices several heads turn as he passes, both men and women captivated.
He spots his target – Officer Davies, who Niall gathered plenty of information on – standing near a potted palm, looking bored and slightly out of place among the glittering elite. Harry's lips curve into a coy smile as he approaches, deliberately stumbling slightly as he nears the officer.
"Oh!" he exclaims softly, allowing Davies to catch his elbow. "I’m so sorry! How clumsy of me. These heels will be the death of me, I swear."
As Harry's fingers brush against Officer Davies' arm and Davies' eyes widen, taking in the vision before him.
"No harm done," he says, his voice slightly husky. "Are you alright?"
Harry looks up through his lashes, a practiced move that never fails. "Thanks to you, I am.”
Davies puffs up slightly at the compliment, his chest swelling with pride. "Just doing my job. Though I must say, it's not often we get such... stunning guests at these events."
Harry laughs, a melodious sound that draws the attention of nearby partygoers. "Oh, you flatter me, Officer. I'm Harry. And you are...?"
"Davies. Officer James Davies," he replies, straightening his posture.
Harry's fingers trail along Officer Davies' arm. "Well, Officer Davies, I must say, you certainly stand out in this crowd. All these politicians and socialites, but you... you have a presence about you."
Davies' cheeks flush slightly, his eyes never leaving Harry's face. "That's very kind of you to say. Though I confess, I feel a bit out of place among all this finery."
Harry leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Would you like to know a secret, Officer Davies? I feel the same way. Perhaps we outcasts should stick together."
b̵͚̳̲̈́̔̿̀͌̆̂̐͒͠ě̵̙̼͎̓͛̈̌l̷͚̻̫̬̥̩͗l̸̨̨̛͚̭̼̗̦̫̮̫͓̠͔̂͋̄͛̈́̏͝s̸̨͍̲͈͔͚̦͑͒̑̿͗̂̈́̔́͝
"The future of finance is digital, gentlemen," Louis says, his voice carrying just the right amount of conviction. "And CryptoNova is at the forefront of that revolution."
The men around him mumble appreciatively, nodding along like every word he speaks is biblical. Louis catches a glimpse of Harry across the room, sees the way he's leaning in close to Officer Davies, and feels a flutter of pride in his chest. They're both playing their parts to perfection.
As the clock inches closer to midnight, the energy in the room begins to shift.
"Gentlemen," Louis says, his voice taking on a tone of excitement, "have any of you had the pleasure of hearing the Melodic Clock chime? I've read about it, of course, but to experience it in person... well, that would be something truly special."
The men around him perk up, curiosity piqued.
"The Melodic Clock?" one asks. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar."
Louis smiles, seeing his opportunity. "Oh, it's a marvel of artistry. Theres a grandfather clock in the front room – it was a gift from the King himself. They say each hour brings a new tune, crafted by the finest composers of the French court. And at midnight..." He pauses for effect, noting how the men lean in closer. "At midnight, it's said to play a melody so hauntingly beautiful, it brings tears to the eyes of all who hear it. A true masterpiece of craftsmanship.”
The crowd around him exchange excited glances, clearly intrigued by Louis' tale.
"Is that so?" one of them asks eagerly. "I had no idea we had such a treasure right here in the palace."
Louis nods solemnly. "Oh yes, it's one of the palace's best-kept secrets. I'm surprised more people don't know about it, given its historical significance."
As the group begins to chatter excitedly about the prospect of hearing this mythical clock, Louis catches Harry's eye across the room. His fiancé gives him a subtle nod – mission accomplished.
b̵͚̳̲̈́̔̿̀͌̆̂̐͒͠ě̵̙̼͎̓͛̈̌l̷͚̻̫̬̥̩͗l̸̨̨̛͚̭̼̗̦̫̮̫͓̠͔̂͋̄͛̈́̏͝s̸̨͍̲͈͔͚̦͑͒̑̿͗̂̈́̔́͝
"You know," Harry says, his voice low and intimate, "I've always been fascinated by the inner workings of places like this. All the secret passages and hidden rooms... I bet you know all sorts of interesting things about this palace, don't you?"
Davies nods with pride. "Well, I don't like to brag, but I do know my way around. It's part of the job, after all."
Harry's eyes light up with feigned excitement. "Really? Oh, I'd love to hear more. Perhaps... somewhere a bit more private? All this noise is giving me a headache."
Officer Davies glances around furtively, then leans in close to Harry. "Well, I'm not really supposed to leave my post, but..." He trails off, clearly tempted.
Harry bites his lip. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble. It's just... I've always dreamed of seeing the palace up close. And who better to show me than a…dignified officer like yourself?"
Davies straightens his posture at the compliment. "Well, I suppose a quick tour wouldn't hurt."
As they slip away from the party, Harry catches Louis' eye across the room. A subtle nod passes between them - everything is going according to plan.
Davies leads Harry down a dimly lit corridor, away from the noise and glitter of the ballroom. "This wing houses some of the palace's most valuable treasures," he explains, clearly enjoying the chance to show off.
"How fascinating," Harry murmurs, his hand brushing against Davies' arm. "And how do you keep it all secure?"
Davies taps his pants pocket proudly. "State-of-the-art security system. Only accessible with this keycard.”
Harry's eyes widen with genuine interest as he leans in closer. "Oh my. You must be very important to carry such an item."
Davies' ego rises even more, clearly enjoying Harry's full attention. "Well, it is a big responsibility. But they know I'm the man for the job."
Harry trails his fingers lightly down Davies' arm, feeling the officer shiver slightly at his touch. "I'm sure they do. A strong, capable man like yourself... I bet you could handle just about anything."
Davies swallows hard, his eyes locked on Harry's face. "You think so?"
Harry steps closer, closing the distance between them. His voice drops to a sultry whisper. "Oh, I know so. I can tell these things, you see. There's something... special about you, Officer Davies."
Davies' breath hitches as Harry's hand comes to rest on his chest, right over his heart. "James," he says hoarsely. "You can call me James."
Harry's lips curve into a smile. "James," he repeats, savoring the name. "What a strong name. It suits you."
He leans in, his lips brushing against James' ear as he speaks. "You know, James, I've always had a weakness for men in uniform. There's something so... commanding about it."
James' breath catches in his throat as Harry's other hand slides up to cup his face. Harry leans in, his lips hovering mere millimeters from James'.
"May I?" Harry whispers, his breath warm against James' mouth.
James nods, unable to form words. Harry closes the distance, pressing his lips softly against the officer's.
Harry's fingers dance along James' belt, ghosting over the keycard in his pocket. With practiced precision, he slips his hand inside, his movements masked by their kiss. His fingers close around the card, sliding it out smoothly.
As Harry's tongue sweeps across James' bottom lip, his other hand reaches into a hidden pocket of his dress. His fingers close around a perfect replica of the keycard.
Then, with a sudden gasp, Harry pretends to lose his balance. His ankle wobbles dramatically, and he stumbles to the side, breaking the kiss as he falls against James' chest.
"Oh!" Harry exclaims, his voice breathless and tinged with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! These heels... I knew I should have worn the lower ones tonight."
James steadies Harry, his hands gentle on Harry's arms. "It's alright," he says, his eyes still glazed with desire. "Are you okay?"
Harry places a hand on his forehead, his eyelashes fluttering as he leans against James. "I... I think I'm alright. Just a bit dizzy. Oh, how embarrassing." He glances up at James, his eyes wide and apologetic. "I'm so sorry, James. I've ruined the moment, haven't I?"
James shakes his head, his hands still steadying Harry. "No, not at all. Are you sure you're okay?"
Harry takes a deep breath and then gives James a weak smile. "I think so. It's just... it's all a bit overwhelming, isn't it? The party, the excitement, the..." he trails off, looking up at James through his lashes again, "the company."
James flushes, clearly still affected by their kiss. "I understand. The palace can be a lot to take in."
Harry nods, then glances around the dimly lit corridor. "I think... I think I might need some fresh air. Would you mind terribly if I stepped outside for a moment? Just to clear my head."
James hesitates for a moment, clearly torn between his duty and his desire to help Harry. "Well, I really shouldn't leave my post..."
Harry places a hand on James' chest, his touch light. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of keeping you from your duties. You've been so kind already. I can find my way back to the party, I'm sure."
James' resolve visibly weakens. "Are you certain? I'd hate for you to get lost."
Harry gives him a dazzling smile. "I'll be fine, I promise. Just a quick breath of fresh air and I'll be right as rain. Thank you for everything, James. You truly are my hero tonight."
He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to James' cheek. As he pulls away, he slips the fake keycard into James' pocket, his movements masked by the closeness of their bodies.
"I do hope we'll see each other again before the night is over," Harry murmurs, his voice full of promise.
James nods, looking slightly dazed. "Yes, I... I'd like that very much."
Harry gives him one last smile before turning and walking away, his hips swaying enticingly as he disappears around a corner. As soon as he's out of sight, he quickens his pace, heading towards their meeting spot.
b̵͚̳̲̈́̔̿̀͌̆̂̐͒͠ě̵̙̼͎̓͛̈̌l̷͚̻̫̬̥̩͗l̸̨̨̛͚̭̼̗̦̫̮̫͓̠͔̂͋̄͛̈́̏͝s̸̨͍̲͈͔͚̦͑͒̑̿͗̂̈́̔́͝
"Gentlemen," Louis says, his voice low and conspiratorial, "I have an idea. Why don't we see if we can get a closer look at this marvelous clock?"
The men exchange glances, clearly intrigued by the prospect.
"That's not a bad idea, Tomlinson," one of them, a silver-haired man with a handlebar mustache, says.
Louis grins, clapping the man on the shoulder. "Excellent! Why don't I fetch us some more champagne? We'll want to toast when we hear that magnificent chime at midnight."
As the man moves away to speak with the rest of the men, Louis weaves through the crowd towards the bar. He catches snippets of conversation as he passes - talk of mergers and acquisitions, holiday plans, the latest scandal involving a minor royal. The air is thick with perfume and cigar smoke.
At the bar, Louis orders a round of champagne, then turns to survey the room.
The bartender begins to line up the flutes on a silver tray. As he does, Louis notices a group of partygoers nearby, their faces flushed with alcohol and excitement.
An idea forms in his mind, a mischievous glint appearing in his eye. He leans in towards the group, his voice low and conspiratorial.
"I hate to be the bearer of exciting news," he says with a wink, "but I've just heard from one of the event coordinators that they're starting the fireworks display early. Apparently, there's some concern about the weather turning later."
The group's eyes widen with interest, and Louis can see the excitement building.
"Really?" a woman in a shimmering gold dress asks. "Where can we see them?"
Louis grins, pointing towards the far side of the ballroom. "The west balconies, I believe. They should be starting any minute now. But keep it quiet – I don't think they want everyone to know just yet."
As the group hurries off, whispering excitedly to other partygoers, Louis turns back to the bar.
Louis eyes the tray of champagne flutes, a plan forming in his mind. He reaches for the tray, but as he does, he deliberately shifts his weight, causing his elbow to bump into a passing waiter. The collision is subtle, almost imperceptible to the casual observer, but the effect is dramatic.
The waiter, a young man carrying a heavily laden tray of glasses and hors d'oeuvres, stumbles. For a moment, it seems he might regain his balance, but then Louis, in a move so smooth it appears accidental, steps back slightly. His heel catches the edge of the waiter's polished shoe, and suddenly, the waiter is falling.
Time seems to slow as the waiter falls forward, his tray tilting precariously. Then, with a resounding crash that echoes through the ballroom, the tray hits the floor. Glass shatters, sending shards skittering across the polished marble and canapés fly in all directions. The waiter lands hard, his crisp white shirt now a canvas of spilled red wine and crushed hors d'oeuvres.
The sound draws nearly every eye in the room. Conversations halt mid-sentence as heads swivel to take in the scene. Several staff members rush forward, armed with towels and dustpans. The crowd begins to gather around the scene, their attention fully captured by the drama unfolding before them.
Louis takes advantage of the distraction. As he moves, he takes in the room with new eyes. The once orderly gathering has dissolved into pockets of excited chatter. Some guests are craning their necks to see the cleanup efforts, while others have begun to drift towards the west balconies, no doubt in search of the nonexistent fireworks display.
"Did you hear about the fireworks?"
"I can't believe they're starting early!"
"What a mess! That poor waiter..."
Louis allows himself a small, satisfied smirk.
He reproaches the group of politicians and businessmen, their attention divided between the cleanup efforts and the groups headed to the supposed fireworks display. Louis clears his throat, drawing their focus back to him.
"Gentlemen," he announces with a charming smile, "I come bearing libations. Shall we toast to an unforgettable evening?"
The silver-haired man with the handlebar mustache turns to Louis. "Ah, Tomlinson! Perfect timing. We must hurry. There's quite a bit of commotion tonight, it seems."
Louis nods, feigning surprise as his tray full of champagne is cleared quickly. "Indeed, it's turning out to be quite an eventful evening. Shall we, then, toward the West wing?"
Louis smiles, watching as the group disappears around a corner. Then, without a sound, he slips away from the ballroom and into a dimly lit corridor.
The sounds of the party fade away as Louis moves deeper into the palace. His footsteps are nearly silent on the plush carpet, his movements precise and purposeful. He passes priceless artworks and antique furniture, barely sparing them a glance.
As he rounds a corner, he catches a flash of red – Harry, waiting in the shadows of an alcove. Louis' heart skips a beat at the sight of him, still as breathtaking as ever.
"Darling," Louis murmurs, closing the distance between them in a few quick strides. "Everything go according to plan?"
Harry's eyes sparkle as he holds up the keycard. "Officer Davies was like putty in my hands."
Louis grins, pride and desire in his gaze. "My girl. You are magnificent."
He pulls Harry close, pressing a quick, fierce kiss to his lips. When they part, both are slightly breathless.
"And you?" Harry asks, his fingers tracing the lapel of Louis' suit. "Did you work your magic?"
Louis smirks. "The entire ballroom is in chaos - a tragic champagne accident, rumors of early fireworks, and a group of very important men are currently on a wild goose chase for a nonexistent musical clock on the opposite side of the palace."
Harry's eyes light up with delight. "Oh, you clever thing.“
Louis winks, then glances down the hallway. "We should move quickly. We've got about 10 minutes before anyone realizes something's amiss."
Harry nods, his expression turning serious. "Right. The vault should be just around the corner."
They move swiftly and silently through the palace corridors. As they approach a heavy wooden door, Harry pulls out the stolen keycard.
"Moment of truth," he whispers, swiping the card through the reader.
For a heart-stopping second, nothing happens. Then, with a soft click, the lock disengages. Louis lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
"After you, my love," he murmurs, gesturing for Harry to enter first.
The vault is dimly lit, with rows of glass cases lining the walls. But their eyes are drawn to the center of the room, where a single pedestal stands. Atop it, gleaming in the low light, sit a set of bells.
"Oh," Harry breathes, his eyes wide with wonder. "They're even more beautiful than I imagined."
Louis moves to stand beside him, his hand finding Harry's. "They're exquisite. Just like you."
Harry turns to him, a soft smile on his lips. "Charmer.”
Louis squeezes Harry's hand gently before releasing it and moving towards the pedestal. His eyes scan the base, looking for the alarm system. He spots a small keypad partially hidden by an ornate carving on the side of the pedestal.
"Clever," he murmurs, crouching down to get a better look. "But not clever enough."
From his pocket, he produces a small device – one of Niall's ingenious creations. It's no larger than a credit card but packed with enough computing power to rival a small server farm. Louis attaches it to the keypad with a soft click.
The device springs to life, its screen flickering with rapid streams of code. Louis watches, his breath held, as it works its magic. After what feels like an eternity the device emits a soft beep.
"We're in," Louis says, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. "The alarm's disarmed. It's all yours, love."
Harry nods, a look of determination settling on his face. With careful movements, he lifts the glass case covering the bells. It lifts away smoothly, without a sound.
The bells themselves are even more breathtaking up close. Seven in total, ranging from the size of a thimble to that of a small teacup, each one intricately engraved with delicate patterns and royal insignias. The gold and silver gleam softly.
"They're perfect," Harry breathes, his fingers hovering just above the smallest bell.
Louis reaches into his jacket, pulling out a velvet pouch. "Let's get them packed up, darling. Time is of the essence."
They carefully place each bell into the pouch, making sure they're securely nestled against each other to prevent any clinking. As Harry places the last bell – the largest – into the bag, a distant sound makes them both freeze.
Footsteps.
"Shit," Louis hisses, quickly tying the pouch closed. "We need to move. Now."
Harry nods, his eyes wide. They move swiftly to the door, pausing only long enough for Louis to retrieve Niall's device from the pedestal.
The corridor outside the vault stretches before them, shadows dancing on the ornate wallpaper. Louis and Harry exchange a quick glance, communicating silently in the way only such longtime partners can. With a nod, they set off down the hallway.
The voices grow louder, echoing off the high ceilings. Louis tugs Harry into an alcove, hidden behind a heavy velvet curtain. They press close together, hearts pounding in unison as two guards pass by, their conversation drifting to them in fragments.
"...swear I heard something..."
"...probably just the wind..."
They sneak back out and navigate the maze-like corridors of the palace, Louis leading the way with unerring precision. Left, right, straight ahead – each turn bringing them closer to their escape route.
Finally, they reach the window they had identified in their planning. It's grand, reaching from floor to ceiling, with intricate glass panes depicting scenes from British history. In any other circumstance, they might have paused to admire the craftsmanship. Now, it's merely an obstacle to overcome.
"This is it," Louis whispers, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of movement. "Are you ready, my love?"
Harry nods, a bundle of excitement and nervous energy. "Always ready for an adventure with you, my darling."
With grace, Harry reaches down and begins to hike up the skirt of his dress. The silk fabric rustles softly as it rises, revealing inch after tantalizing inch of his stockinged legs. Louis can't help but admire the view, even in their precarious situation.
"Keep your eyes on the prize, love," Harry teases, noticing Louis' wandering gaze.
Louis grins, unabashed. "Oh, they are."
As the hem of the dress rises higher, it reveals something: wrapped tightly around Harry's upper thigh is a coil of shimmering silk. It's a deep, rich red, mixed in with the fabric of Harry's dress – a detail that makes Louis' heart swell with affection.
"You never cease to amaze me," Louis murmurs as Harry begins to untie the rope.
Harry raises his eyebrows suggestively. “I aim to please."
As Harry works to secure one end of the rope to a sturdy nearby column, Louis turns his attention to the window. His fingers dance along the edge, searching for the latch. Finding it, he applies gentle pressure, wincing at the soft click it makes as it disengages.
With a soft creak, the window swings open, letting in a gust of frigid air. Louis peers out into the night, his breath forming little clouds in the cold air. The palace gardens stretch out below them, a winter wonderland blanketed in white.
"It's beautiful," Harry whispers, coming to stand beside Louis.
"Not as beautiful as you," Louis replies, pressing a quick kiss to Harry's cheek.
Harry rolls his eyes fondly, but there's a pleased flush on his cheeks. "Now, shall we?"
Louis nods, taking the rope from Harry's hands. With quick movements, he secures it around Harry's waist, double-checking every knot. His fingers linger perhaps a moment longer than necessary, drawing a soft gasp from Harry.
"Focus, love," Harry murmurs, rolling his eyes. “ Don't worry, I’ve got more rope at home.”
Louis grins. "Good."
With one last check of their surroundings, Louis helps Harry onto the window ledge. The wind whips around them, tugging at Harry's dress and sending his curls into a wild dance. For a moment, he looks like some otherworldly creature, a vision in red against the snowy backdrop.
"Ready?" Louis asks, his hand steady on Harry's back.
Harry nods. "Ready as I'll ever be."
With a deep breath, Harry turns and begins to lower himself out the window. Louis keeps a firm grip on the rope, controlling Harry's descent. Inch by inch, Harry disappears from view, until only his fingers are visible gripping the ledge.
"I love you," Harry whispers, his eyes locked with Louis' for one last moment before he lets go completely.
Louis' heart races as he watches Harry rappel down the side of the palace. The red of his dress stands out starkly against the white snowy night. Louis counts the seconds, his breath held until he sees Harry's feet touch the ground safely.
Once Harry is clear, Louis secures the velvet pouch containing their prize to his belt. He takes one last look around the room, ensuring they've left no trace of their presence, before climbing onto the window ledge himself.
The cold air bites at his face as he begins his descent. The rope slides smoothly through his hands, the silk warm from Harry's body heat.
As he nears the ground, he hears Harry's whisper, "Almost there, love. You're doing brilliantly."
Louis' feet touch the snow-covered grass, and he immediately crouches low, scanning the area for any signs of movement. In the distance, the ornate iron gates loom.
Louis reaches for Harry's hand, their fingers intertwining as they share a brief, exhilarated glance. Then, without a word, they're off, racing through the silent garden.
Their feet barely seem to touch the ground as they weave between frost-covered topiaries and rose bushes. Harry's dress billows behind him, a streak of crimson.
As they run, the sounds of the palace fade away, replaced by the soft crunch of snow beneath their feet and the distant hoot of an owl.
They're halfway across the garden when a shout rings out behind them. Louis' heart leaps into his throat as he risks a glance back. Two figures have emerged from a side entrance, their flashlights cutting through the darkness.
"Faster," Louis hisses, tugging Harry along as they increase their pace.
The iron gates loom ahead and behind them, shouts and the beam of flashlights grow closer.
"Almost there," Harry pants, his hand squeezing Louis' tightly.
“You’re so quick in those heels,” Louis marvels, neither feeling too much urgency despite their circumstance.
As they near the gate, Louis' eyes scan for their planned exit point. There – a section where the ornate ironwork forms a natural ladder. He guides Harry towards it, their steps in perfect sync.
"Ladies first," Louis quips, giving Harry a boost.
Harry laughs prettily as he grabs the iron bars, his muscles straining as he begins to climb. Louis follows close behind, his eyes darting between Harry ascending and the searching guards. The metal is ice-cold against their hands, numbing their fingers. Harry reaches the top first, swinging his leg over with grace. He pauses, reaching down to help Louis up the last few feet.
As Louis reaches the top of the gate, a shout rings out behind them.
"Hello? Who’s there?"
Louis and Harry exchange a quick glance. Without hesitation, they leap from the top of the gate, landing with grace on the other side.
The snow cushions their fall, but they don't pause to catch their breath. Hand in hand, they sprint down the deserted street, their footsteps muffled by the fresh powder.
"Left here," Harry pants, tugging Louis down a narrow alleyway.
The alley is dark and cramped, barely wide enough for them to run side by side. Old brick walls loom on either side, dusted with a fine layer of snow.
As they emerge onto another street, a black car suddenly pulls up alongside them, its engine purring quietly. The passenger window rolls down, revealing a familiar face.
"Need a lift, lovebirds?" Niall grins from behind the wheel.
"Niall, you beautiful Irish bastard," Louis laughs, yanking open the back door and all but shoving Harry inside before diving in after him.
Niall navigates the snowy streets, taking a winding route through back alleys and side streets.
In the backseat, Louis and Harry cling to each other, their chests heaving as they catch their breath. Despite the chill of the night air still clinging to their skin, they're both flushed with exertion and excitement.
"Did you get them?" Niall asks, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror.
In response, Louis pats the velvet pouch secured to his belt. "Mission accomplished.”
Harry lets out a breathless laugh, burying his face in Louis' neck. "I can't believe we actually did it."
"Believe it, love," Louis murmurs, pressing a kiss to Harry's temple. "We just robbed Buckingham Palace."
Niall takes them on a circuitous route through the city, doubling back and taking random turns to shake any potential tail. The streets of London fly by outside the windows, a blur of twinkling Christmas lights and falling snow.
Finally, after what feels like forever, Niall pulls into an underground parking garage. He guides the car into a reserved spot and cuts the engine.
As the engine falls silent, Louis reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a thick wad of cash. The bills are crisp and new, still carrying the faint scent of expensive cologne from their previous owner – some oblivious party guest who'd never even noticed its absence.
"For you, my friend," Louis says, handing the stack to Niall. "A little bonus for your impeccable timing and driving skills."
Niall's eyes widen as he takes in the amount. "Jesus, lads, this is quite the Christmas bonus. You didn't have to..."
Harry leans forward, placing a hand on Niall's shoulder. "We insist. We couldn't have done this without you."
Niall grins, pocketing the cash. "Well, in that case, I won't say no to a bit of extra Christmas cheer. Now go on, get out of here before I start feeling like a glorified cabbie."
Louis and Harry exit the car, their laughter echoing in the empty parking garage. They make their way to the elevator, hands intertwined, the velvet pouch containing their prize tucked safely against Louis' side.
As the elevator doors close, Harry immediately presses Louis against the mirrored wall. "God, you were amazing tonight," he breathes, nuzzling into Louis' neck and nipping against his throat.
Louis' hands find Harry's waist, pulling him closer. “So were you, baby. Always so cunning and quick.”
As the elevator ascends, Louis and Harry can barely keep their hands off each other, the adrenaline from their heist still coursing through their veins. When they reach their floor, they stumble out into the hallway, giggling and shushing each other.
Louis fumbles with the key to their penthouse apartment, distracted by Harry pressing kisses along his neck. Finally, the lock clicks open and they tumble inside, kicking the door shut behind them.
The moment they're alone, Harry presses Louis against the door, capturing his lips in a kiss. Louis responds with equal fervor, his hands roaming over the smooth fabric of Harry's dress wishing it was his skin.
"God, you were incredible tonight," Louis murmurs against Harry's lips. "The way you handled that guard... I could barely keep my eyes off you."
Harry grins, his eyes sparkling. “You weren't so bad yourself, Mr. CEO. Had the whole room eating out of the palm of your hand."
Louis chuckles, his fingers tracing the curve of Harry's waist. "What can I say? I learned from the best."
Their lips meet again, the kiss deepening as Louis guides them towards the bedroom. Harry's hands make quick work of Louis' tie and blazer, pushing the fabric off his shoulders.
As they cross the threshold into their room, Louis pauses, remembering their prize. He carefully removes the velvet pouch from his belt, placing it reverently on the dresser. The soft clink of the bells within sends a thrill through both of them.
"We really did it," Harry breathes, his eyes wide with wonder as he gazes at the pouch.
Louis cups Harry's face in his hands, drawing his attention back. "We did, love. And now..." He leans in, his lips brushing against Harry's ear as he whispers, "I think it's time for a proper celebration."
With a playful growl, Louis scoops Harry up, eliciting a delighted squeal as he carries him to their luxurious king-sized bed. He lays Harry down gently, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. Harry's curls are splayed out on the pillow, his chest rising and falling rapidly with anticipation. The red dress is bunched up around his thighs, revealing a tantalizing expanse of skin.
"You are a vision," Louis murmurs, his eyes roaming over Harry's form.
Harry reaches up, pulling Louis down for a passionate kiss. Their lips move together, tongues dancing as hands roam over familiar curves and planes. Louis trails kisses down Harry's neck, nipping gently at the skin and drawing out soft gasps.
As Louis' hands slide up Harry's thighs, pushing the dress higher, Harry arches into his touch. "Please, Lou," he whimpers. "Need you."
Louis smirks against Harry's collarbone. "Patience, love. We have all night to celebrate."
With torturous slowness, Louis unzips Harry's dress, peeling it away to reveal more and more skin. Harry writhes beneath him, desperate for more contact. When the dress is finally discarded, leaving Harry in nothing but his lace stockings and garter belt and a pair of lace panties adorned with a tiny bow, leaving nothing to the imagination, Louis sits back to admire the view.
"Christ, baby," Louis breathes, his fingers trailing along the edge of one stocking. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"
Harry's eyes flutter shut as he stretches languidly on the bed. "Consider it a Christmas gift, love."
Louis groans, his hands roaming over Harry's legs. "Best gift ever."
He leans down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along Harry's inner thigh, just above where the stocking ends. Harry gasps, his fingers tangling in Louis' hair.
"Lou, please," Harry whimpers. "Don't tease."
Louis chuckles against Harry's skin. "But teasing is half the fun, darling."
Nevertheless, he relents, trailing his kisses higher until he reaches the line where his thigh meets his hip. His tongue darts out, tracing along the edge of the garter belt. Harry's hips buck involuntarily, seeking more contact.
Louis continues his teasing exploration of Harry's body, savoring every gasp and shiver he elicits. His fingers trace delicate patterns along Harry's sides as he kisses a path up his torso. When he reaches Harry's chest, he pauses to lavish attention on each nipple, drawing out breathy moans.
"Lou, please," Harry whimpers, his back arching off the bed. "Need you inside me."
Louis pulls back slightly, his eyes roaming over Harry's flushed skin. "Patience, love."
He leans down to capture Harry's lips in a kiss, swallowing his pretty whines. Louis' hand slides down Harry's body, ghosting over his straining erection before dipping lower. His fingers slip beneath the lace of Harry's panties, teasing at his entrance.
Harry gasps into the kiss, his hips canting upwards. "Please, Lou. I'm prepped already, I swear."
Louis pulls back, raising an eyebrow. "Already? You naughty thing, when did you have time to prepare, hm?"
A grin spreads across Harry's face. "Let's just say I had some free time waiting for you while you were distracting those politicians. Heists with you turn me on."
Louis groans, burying his face in Harry's neck. "You're going to be the death of me, I swear."
With a newfound urgency, Louis sits back on his heels, his eyes roaming over Harry's form. The sight before him is breathtaking - Harry sprawled out on the bed, his curls a wild halo around his head.
Louis brings his hand to his mouth, maintaining eye contact with Harry as he slowly, deliberately, runs his tongue over his fingers. Harry's breath hitches, his pupils dilating further as he watches. When Louis' fingers are sufficiently wet, he lowers his hand, tracing a teasing path down Harry's chest and stomach.
Harry nods frantically, spreading his legs wider in invitation. "Please, Lou. Need you so badly."
Louis smirks, tugging down Harry’s panties before circling his entrance with one slick finger. "So eager for me, aren't you, baby?"
He pushes in slowly, savoring the way Harry's body welcomes him. Despite Harry's earlier preparation, he's still deliciously tight. Louis works his finger in and out, watching Harry's face intently for any signs of discomfort.
Louis slowly works a second finger in alongside the first, stretching and scissoring gently. Harry moans, his head thrown back in pleasure as Louis curls his fingers just right.
Harry gasps, rocking his hips to meet Louis' thrusts. "Please, Lou. More."
Louis obliges, adding a third finger and picking up the pace. He leans down to capture Harry's lips in another kiss. His free hand roams over Harry's body, tracing the lines of his tattoos and teasing at his hardened nipples.
When Louis deems Harry sufficiently prepared, he withdraws his fingers, chuckling at Harry's whine of disappointment. He quickly sheds his remaining clothes.
"How do you want me, love?" Louis asks.
Harry's eyes roam over Louis' naked form appreciatively. "Want to ride you," he says, licking his lips. "Want to look into your eyes while I take you."
Louis groans, the image alone nearly enough to undo him. "Fuck, yes. Come here, baby."
He lies back on the bed, pulling Harry on top of him. Harry straddles Louis' hips, the lace of his stockings brushing tantalizingly against Louis' skin. With graceful movements, Harry reaches behind himself to line Louis up.
As Harry sinks down onto him, they both moan and gasp in unison. The tight heat of him envelops Louis, sending pleasure all through his body. Harry pauses when he's fully seated, his hands splayed across Louis' chest as he adjusts to the feeling of fullness.
"God, you feel amazing," Louis breathes, his hands gripping hungrily at Harry's hips.
Harry smiles down at him. "So do you, love."
Slowly, Harry begins to move, lifting himself up before sinking back down. Louis starts to meet him thrust for thrust, their bodies moving together in a familiar rhythm. The room fills with their gasps and moans, punctuated by the soft rustle of sheets.
Louis can't tear his eyes away from the sight above him. Harry is like heaven on earth; his curls wild and his skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat.
As their pace quickens, Louis slides one hand up Harry's torso, tweaking a nipple and drawing out a sharp gasp. His other hand wraps around Harry's length, stroking in time with their thrusts.
Harry's rhythm falters for a moment as pleasure courses through him, his back arching beautifully. "Oh god, Lou," he moans, his fingers digging into Louis' chest.
Louis smirks, continuing his ministrations. "That's it, baby. You look so gorgeous, taking me so well."
Their bodies move together in perfect synchronicity, the last few years of intimacy allowing them to easily anticipate each other's needs, to know what makes each of them come undone. Harry grinds down, changing the angle slightly, and lets out a sharp cry of pleasure as Louis hits his prostate.
"Right there," Harry gasps, his movements becoming more frantic. "God, Lou, you feel so good inside me."
Louis thrusts up harder, meeting Harry's downward motions. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mingling with their breathless moans and gasps. The Tiffany bracelet on Harry's wrist catches the low light, sending reflections dancing across the walls.
"You're incredible," Louis breathes, his eyes locked on Harry's face. "The way you handled everything tonight... God, H, you were magnificent."
Harry grins down at him, panting yet never breaking his rhythm. "We both were.”
Louis' eyes darken with desire. There’s just something about the way Harry’s speaking and the delicious way he sinks himself down on his cock that makes possessive energy bubble up inside him. In one fluid motion, he wraps his arms around Harry's waist and flips them over, eliciting a surprised gasp from Harry as his back hits the mattress.
"Need you," Louis growls, hitching Harry's legs up around his waist and leaning to press messy kisses to his lips.
Harry moans against his mouth as Louis slides back into him, the new angle allowing to sink that much further into him. Louis sets a heavy pace and the headboard thumps rhythmically against the wall, the sound mingling with their gasps and moans.
Louis can't tear his eyes away from the sight beneath him. Harry is spread out on the bed like a Renaissance painting, kiss-swollen lips parted in pleasure.
"So perfect for me," Louis murmurs, his lips trailing along Harry's jaw. "Taking me so well, baby."
Harry's fingers dig into Louis' back, surely leaving marks that Louis loved to wear proudly. "Only for you," he gasps. "Always for you."
Louis can feel the heat building low in his stomach, his movements becoming more erratic as he chases his release while simultaneously urging Harry toward his. He reaches between them, wrapping his hand around Harry's length again.
"Come for me, love," Louis urges, his voice rough as his hand works over the head of Harry’s cock. "Want to feel you come."
Harry's back arches off the bed, a loud whimper escaping his lips as he begins to come over Louis’ fist and onto his stomach. The sight of Harry coming undone beneath him, combined with the tight heat of Harry clenching around his cock, sends Louis over the edge just behind him. He buries himself deep inside Harry as he comes, Harry's name falling from his lips.
For a moment, they stay locked together, bodies trembling with aftershocks. Louis peppers Harry's face with soft kisses before slowly pulling out, both of them wincing slightly at the oversensitivity.
Louis then collapses onto the bed beside Harry, immediately pulling him close. Harry nestles into Louis' chest, their legs tangling together.
They lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, basking in the afterglow. Louis' fingers trace lazy patterns on Harry's back.
"We really did it," Harry murmurs, his voice filled with awe. "We actually robbed Buckingham Palace."
Louis chuckles, the sound low in his chest. "We did, love. And we got away with it."
Harry props himself up on one elbow. "Can we see them again? The bells?"
Louis nods, carefully sliding himself out from Harry's embrace. He pads over to the dresser where he'd left the velvet pouch, retrieving it before returning to the bed, the two sliding underneath the covers to settle in for the night.
With careful movement, Louis unties the pouch and tips the contents onto the comforter between them. The seven bells tumble out, their gold and silver surfaces gleaming in the soft light of their bedroom.
"They're even more beautiful up close," he whispers.
Louis watches fondly as Harry gently lifts the tiniest bell. The intricate engravings catch the light as Harry turns it in his hand, marveling at the craftsmanship.
"Can you imagine the history these have seen?" Harry murmurs. "The secrets they've heard, the celebrations they've rung for..."
Louis nods, picking up one of the larger bells. Its weight is substantial in his palm, the metal cool against his skin. "And now they're yours, darling."
Harry sets the small bell down carefully before picking up another. As he lifts it, a soft, melodious chime fills the air. Both of them freeze, eyes wide as the sound resonates through the room.
"Oh," Harry breathes, a smile spreading across his face. "It's just as beautiful as I remember."
Louis grins, lifting his own bell and giving it a gentle shake. Another note joins the first, harmonizing perfectly.
As the last notes fade away, Harry sets the bells down carefully. He turns to Louis, his eyes shining with emotion. "Thank you for making my Christmas wish come true, love."
Louis cups Harry's face in his hands, drawing him in for a sweet kiss. "Anything for you, my love. Always."