Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Harry took the cloth towel from the Automaton with a quiet “Thank you” and wiped the remaining shaving cream off his chin. The humanoid machine chirped in response and picked up the razor and water, storing them in its hollow chest, and then wheeled off.

“Honestly, Harry, I don’t understand why you perpetually thank them," Gemma said. “They’re machines, they really don’t care.”

Harry met his sister’s eyes in the mirror. She was sprawled on his bed, carefully cleaning the small daggers hidden in her embroidered fan. Her brightly colored pink gown clashing with the purple in her hair, and that with the dark green velvet of his comforter.

“They might care, eventually," Harry replied, his hand hovering over a small book tucked in his right pocket. Besides, Albert (even if Harry was the only one who called him that) was his favorite automaton.

Gemma laughed. “Do you still believe that you can give them minds? And hearts? It’s not going to happen, Hazza, no matter what the little mad scientist in you thinks.”

Harry shrugged, calmly, and said slowly. “You never know. Besides, I don’t mind being nice.”

Gemma smiled fondly. “ I know you don’t, little brother.”

She watched as he finished tying his necktie and put on his afternoon jacket, a mix of expensive black leather and cotton, with a layer of extremely thin chainmail decorating the collar. He tapped his watch with his finger, and the gears spiraled open like a delicate metal flower.

“It’ll be warm in New York, Gem.” He said, reading the forecast on his watch. “Did you pack right?”

“Brother darling, I packed enough for any weather. I like to be prepared. I assume Niall made sure you have a full two months of proper clothing? Enough for the travel to New York as well as the time we are spending?”

Harry smiled distractedly, already fiddling with some small piece of mechanics on his desk. “I think so, yeah. He was proper dancing bout the trip earlier.”

“He’s such a laugh. Mum thinks he’s just about the cheekiest valet she’s ever met, on top of being Irish, so he’s lucky to still be hired, but I like him.”

“It’s been three years. Mum wouldn’t fire him, not when he’s such a good mate.” Harry said. “Besides, Liam likes him too, and Liam hates anything that isn’t proper.”

“I know, Li is so serious. Suppose that’s what happens when you inherit a duchy and a massive armaments business at the age of ten.” She hopped off the bed and crossed over to Harry, tugging on one of his chocolate curls. “Aren’t you lucky you haven’t had to grow up? Lost in the clouds, aren’t you?”

Harry smiled, his dimples pronounced. “Wouldn’t that be nice? To float through the clouds forever?”

Gemma smiled fondly. “Well, not forever, but we are going to spend four weeks on an airship, what with there and back, so hopefully that’ll be enough. Is Liam meeting us at the Royal Air Shipyard?”

“Yeah.” Harry said. “He’ll probably be early.”

“And we’ll probably be late.” Gemma said, flouncing to the door. She turned back. “Won’t this be fun? Honestly, a trip to New York without mum or any adult at all? No chaperones on our tails. I mean, it’s awful, but I am so glad Auntie came down with that light fever. She’ll be fine in a day, but we’ll be gone within two hours! You, me, Liam, plus Perrie and Niall. This is going to be amazing!”

 “Louis, get me that wrench!” Albert shouted, his grease-stained hands gesticulating wildly.

“Here!” Louis shouted, tossing it across the metal walkway and nearly braining his best mate Zayn in the process.

Zayn gave Louis a dirty gesture, and then bent back to the elaborate knots he was tying, his dark hair falling in his face as his tattooed fingers flew.  The teletalk line beeped, and Louis grabbed it.

“Aye?” He asked.

“Is that Tomlinson?” A disembodied voice asked gruffly.

“Yeah.”

“This is Stan. I’m on the bridge, and it looks like one of the top propellers is jammed with some rope or something. Can you climb up and get it out? If we don’t lift off in two hours like we’re supposed too, those toffs will make such a fucking fuss.”

“I got it.” Louis shouted, and slammed down the phone. He ran to the nearby out hatch, and swung on to the ropes, not bothering to hook on to the safety line. He paused for a second, swinging on the side of a massive behemoth of an airship, and looked down. The ship was tethered tightly to the ground, but the body of the ship was a good 200 feet up in the air, with a temporary elevator being quickly set up for the high class travelers who would soon fill the passenger ship to the brim. Louis could see over most of the low buildings that made up the dirty, beautiful city of London.

Louis couldn’t wait for them to finally set off. He had been land bound for the past month, and hated every minute of it, even though a bunch of his mates from Doncaster were in London and they’d spent almost every night at the pubs. Soon, though, Louis would be up miles in the sky- his only real home.

With that in mind, Louis hooked his boots into the netting that ran up the curved side of the hydrogen filled airship, and began to climb. His strong body ascended rapidly, his tattooed arms barely burning as he lifted himself up, and although the blisters that had healed from time off would soon bother him, Louis had never felt more alive.

“Mate!” A shout came from below. Zayn was half out of the hatch, his black hair falling into his face as the London wind shoved the airship and all of them around. “Hook on to the safety wire, would you? What’s the fucking rush?”

“Sooner I get this fixed, sooner we can be off.” Louis shouted. He took a deep breath of the coal and smog infused Airship City air. He was ready for the biting, oxygen-low air of the sky. “I want to fly!”

Chapter Text

"Harry!" Gemma shouted. "Harry the ship leaves in less than twenty minutes! We are going to miss it!"

"I'm coming!" Harry hollered back. "You go ahead with Niall and the trunks, I'll meet you there." He dug through his bookshelves, pushing aside books furiously, muttering, "Where is it? Where is it?" to himself.

"'I'm leaving now, Hazza, and if you miss this I am stabbing you with my parasol!" Harry heard Gemma shout up the stairs, and then the slam of the door. Harry continued throwing things about, searching for a small packet of parchment that he had hidden and then forgotten where he hid it.

His watch dinged angrily, and Niall's voice shouted "You're late!," the tinny speakers emphasizing his Irish accent. He had wanted to add some swear words when Harry was first creating the recordings, but Harry thought that swear words on his prototype might make it difficult to reproduce.

Harry tossed a book over his shoulder, and a small packet of papers fell out.

"Thank god!" Harry said, scooping it up and beginning to run out the door. He made it about five feet before he stepped on his shoelace and face planted in the middle of his room.

"Bloody hell," Harry muttered into the carpet. "I'm so late."

"You musn't disable the elevator!" A posh, feminine voice was shouting as Louis entered the loading dock.

Captain Cowell frowned, his back straight. Louis could see the frustration in his expression. "My lady, this ship leaves at 5:00 on the dock. You were warned ahead of time, repeatedly. Airship City runs on a strict schedule, and we can not be late."

The woman- no, Louis realized, she was about twenty, so girl- flicked open a fan aggressively, her tightly pinned blond hair coming apart as she shook her head in frustration. Louis was amused to see purple tips on the hair that was rapidly becoming untucked- this was a girl who was clearly not as proper as she wanted the world to believe.

"We cannot leave without my brother! We paid for his ticket, and I am a good friend of Sir Jacobsen, who as you well know, owns this company. He wrote this letter demanding you give us all due courtesy." She said.

"I am giving you all due courtesy, my lady, but I simply cannot delay the ship." He turned to Liam and Zayn, who were standing just inside the cavernous space. "Lads, draw up the elevator."

"Ah, feck." An Irish voice near Louis' right muttered.

Louis ignored the blond boy, and began turning a massive winch while Zayn typed furiously into the metal machine. Quickly the coils drew up the metal elevator box, and once it was inside and settled, the coils themselves detached from the ground.

"No, you must wait!" The girl shouted again. She ran to the edge of the opening, peering down 200 feet without fear. "Look, he's right there! You see him? That green speck, running?"

"Ma'am, get away from the edge!" Captain Cowell shouted, pulling her away. "The elevator is up. It's too late."

"Find a way to get my brother on this ship! I swear to God, Captain, it will be your job on the line if you don't!" The girl shouted.

Louis snorted softly, and muttered to Zayn, "I hate these spoiled types. If her brother wanted to be on this ship, he should've been here on time. Fucking toffs. They think the world revolves around them."

Captain Cowell frowned deeply. "You are sure that is him down there?"

"Yes!"

"Tomlinson!" Captain shouted fiercely. Louis jumped. "Yes, sir?"

"Get into a double diving harness. If young Lord Styles isn't on this ship in five minutes, I'm cutting the line and leaving you both."

Louis swore violently, ignoring the side eye he got from the Lady and the stiff looking brown haired bloke standing next to her. He grabbed a harness from the wall, buckling it on as Zayn attached a cable.

He glanced over his shoulder at the girl, who was watching him anxiously. Louis smirked, and shouted, "Your brother is definitely not worth this hassle, m'lady," giving her a light bow, and then muttered to Zayn, "here goes nothing."

He looked at the gap ten feet away, and started to run. Like an angel or a hawk, he was suspended for a second in the air, arms held high above his head, and then he plummeted through the hatch.

Harry stared hopelessly up at the hydrogen filled behemoth above him, entirely out of reach. Around him, men were running, untying the knots that held the ship to the ground.

"Are you sure there is nothing you can do?" He asked the portly man from the shipyard standing beside him.

"Afraid not, my lord. Another ship bound to New York leaves in four days, you could probably get a bunk on that one."

Harry sighed, and lifted his hand up towards the ship to wave goodbye. Suddenly his hand paused. A speck, growing rapidly larger, had launched out of the ship.

"Bloody hell!" Harry muttered, watching the figure falling uncontrollably. He didn't notice the rope trailing behind him, to fixated on the shape that appeared to be free-falling. He seemed to be falling right at Harry.  Harry was too stunned to move. At the last second, Harry fell backwards on his butt to avoid the figure, who landed on gracefully on his feet like a cat, as if he hadn't just fallen 200+ feet.

"Ooops." Harry muttered as he sprawled on the ground, staring wide eyed at the figure who was crouching inches away. Harry swallowed. The man was dressed in the heavy leather and metal of a ship worker, but he was so fucking beautiful, with cheekbones as sharp as knives and glowing blue eyes. He had quite literally fallen from the heavens and landed on his feet. An angel, Harry thought. Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts.

The man smirked, his blue eyes staring Harry down. "Hi." He said, his voice musical. "You're late."

"I..umm..yeah....I forgot something." Harry murmured slowly, still staring at the man, who blinked slowly.

He snorted. "Of course you did." He muttered sharply. "And so you stopped an entire fucking airship."

"I...uh...sorry?" Harry tried. He anxiously tugged on a curl. The boy stared at Harry, his lips twitching almost as if he was holding back laughter.

"Well, come on then. Let's get you onto the ship." He said. "I'm Louis, by the way, my'lord."

"Just call me Harry." Harry murmured. Suddenly the boy reached out and yanked onto Harry's shirt, pulling Harry up against his body.

"Sorry, what?" Harry asked, his voice breaking as he felt the boy's body against him, staring down at his lips.

Louis winked. "Don't get too excited, sir. Though I understand that it's hard not to." Suddenly, Harry felt a piece of rope being wound around his waist. Louis expertly pulled the rope between Harry's legs, his hand brushing slowly against Harry's dick as he did so.

Harry choked slightly, color rising in his cheeks, and Louis grinned. "Hope I'm not being too forward Sir, but if I don't get you tied up nice and tight I might lose you."

"Sorry..uh...what?" Harry asked, trying to think of anything but the boy in front of him who was quite literally tying Harry to him.

"The harness. The only way up now is to be pulled up." Louis said matter-of-factly as he finished fidgeting with Harry's belt. Harry blushed again, and then paled when he looked up at the distance they had to go. "There might be some wind. But don't worry, sir." Louis pulled him tighter, whispering in his ear, "I won't let go."

Suddenly, Louis tugged sharply on the rope connecting them to the Leviathan. Harry gasped as the harness bit into his body, pulling them up so fast in felt like he was flying. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, staring at Louis, who was holding Harry close as promised. The boy had his head bent back in the sun and his eyes closed, the wind shoving at his golden hair. The sun gilded his face like a renaissance painting, and the breath caught in Harry's throat for more than one reason. Louis smiled brightly, still staring at the sun, and began to laugh with pure, unmistakable happiness.  The hatch of the ship began to grow above them, the shadow of the ship blocking the sun. Louis stared at Harry, and smiled brightly. Just before they reached the hatch, he leaned forward and whispered in Harry's ear.

"May I be the first one, Lord Styles, to welcome you to the sky."

Chapter Text

"Gem! Gem stop!" Harry howled, raising his arms to protect his head. "Put the parasol down, Gem!"

Gemma took one more swing, whacking him on the shoulder painfully, and then tapped the parasol on the floor decisively. "Idiot," she muttered.  "We nearly left without you!"

Harry straightened up hesitantly, wary of another whack.  When the parasol stayed resting on the floor, he carefully tugged down his vest and straightened his hair. He ignored Niall's chuckles and the wide-eyed stares of the cabin boy, and glided into his cabin with all the dignity he could muster. Which, in all honesty, was not much.

Niall followed him, carrying his trunk and dropping it next to the door with a loud thunk. "So did you get his name?" He asked cheerfully, bustling to the portholes and peering out.

"Who's name?" Harry said, emptying his pockets on the bedside table.

"Your new obsession. The guy who jumped a few hundred feet and then carried you up to the ship in his arms? That one?"

"He is rather fit, but nowhere near obsession worthy.  And his name is Louis, not that it matters."

"Methinks it matters rather a lot."  Niall said, chuckling.  "You think I didn't see those heart eyes, Harry?  He's completely your type.  Small, blue eyes, cheekbones, and quite a bit of cheek.  You always do like a bit of back talk, don't you, my Lord Styles?" Niall said with an exaggerated bow.  

Harry snatched a pillow off the bed and tossed it at him.  "Shut up."

"Only speaking the truth, Harry."

"Fine.  Objectively, to the uninvested observer, he is rather amazingly attractive.  Hypothetically, of course.  And perhaps his bum is rather perfectly sized, and quite flatteringly gripped by those work trousers.  Anybody with eyes would notice that." Harry murmured, falling back on the bed.  "And I suppose one could get utterly lost in his eyes, if one was the type to be swayed by sky blue eyes so deep one could drown.  But of course," Harry said pointedly, frowning at Niall, "I'm speaking of his general attractiveness, not any particular desire on my part."

"But of course."  Niall said ironically.  He puttered around unpacking the trunk, his fingers checking for listening devices unconsciously.

"Besides," Harry said, "I can't be distracted by beautiful blue-eyed boys right now.  I need to stay focused."

Niall frowned, all traces of amusement banished from his cornflower eyes.  "Aye, that ye do.  More than ever, Harry, don't lose your head.  This time, it could get us all killed."

"I know, I know.  I won't fall victim to his siren's call."  Harry said dramatically, his fingers fidgeting with the tiny gears that rattled in his pocket.  It was a nervous tick, but Harry had given up trying to stop it these past few months.  He had reason enough to be nervous.

"Besides," Niall said, "You don't even know if he's interested.  Somehow, I have a feeling our heroic midshipman is a bit to busy doing important manly engineering things to worry about wooing you."

Harry stared longingly at the ceiling, his mouth shaping the words manly engineering things longingly.  When they were tied together, Louis had smelled of grease, and it had done such wild things to Harry's libido.  Who knew engine grease was so magnificently aromatic?

"Oh Niall," Harry murmured, "I do adore an engineer.  They have such skillful hands."  

"You think he's fit."

"Who?"

"The green-eyed lordling," Zayn said, handing Louis a wrench.

Louis scoffed as he struggled to fit the screw in the hole.  "I think he's an arrogant tosser who stopped a ship on a schedule just because he didn't want to wake up.  Think's he's a king, that one does."

"You still think he's fit."

"He's fine, I suppose.  Nothing to write home about."

Zayn glanced at Louis blankly, but years of experience meant Louis could read the disbelief in the flick of his eyes easily.

"Really!"  Louis protested, "I don't think he's that fit.  Only a little bit.  Besides, nothing'll happen.  He's a lord, and I'm a midshipman."

"You said that about the French Count, too."

Louis smirked.

"Look, just don't expect me to cover for you, this time."

"I have no interest in the lordling!"

"Just try not to get fired, will you?  I'd rather not have to train somebody else."

Louis put his full weight on the wrench, and the gear finally twisted, sending a flurry of sparks into the air.

"Trust me, Zayn.  I've no need for a quick tumble with an aristocrat.  I've enough real work to do."

Zayn shrugged.  "Speaking of work, do you want to check the forecastle valve, or should I?"

"I've got it.  You can take your break.  See if you can convince Pezza to save me a slice of the passenger's cherry pie?"

Zayn saluted Louis as he sauntered off.

"Psssh," Louis muttered to the air duct, "Little lordling's not fit at all."

It puffed a blast of hot air at him as if to say who're you kidding?

Dinner with the First Class passengers was like a society ball with zero escape avenues.  Beautiful clothing, upturned noses, and so much ambition.  Except here, the only way out was out the window, and that wasn't much of an option at all.  As the highest ranking person in the room, Harry was the target of everybody's fake smiles and flattery.  Even truly delicious chilled watermelon soup wasn't worth this.  And Harry did so love pink foods.

The only upside had been the truly impressive expression of disgust and disapproval on old Mrs. Haverford-DuMond's face when she caught sight of Harry's sheer blouse.  It didn't quite match his chainmail edged dinner suit, but the shock value was worth it.  Her face turned pink, and all of the matrons in the room quite forcibly turned their demure young daughters and nieces in the other direction.  Unfortunately for Harry, they weren't quite successful.  

Ms. Smith and Ms. Swift, a brunette and blonde pair of cousins from Kent and America respectively, were quite determined to make Harry's acquaintance.  Terribly determined, really.  Harry enjoyed being friendly and making conversation, but their eyes seemed rather singlehandedly focused on his empty ring finger.  A finger he, at only seventeen, was quite determined to keep empty for a long while.  The entire thing was rather disconcerting.  It was with great relief that he unloaded Ms. Smith on Liam the moment Liam appeared.

"Have you met Lord Payne of Wolverhampton, Ms. Smith?"  Harry asked frantically.  Her eyes widened as she took in the neatly attired and heavily muscled duke.  As usual, Liam's assistant Paul was hovering behind him with papers that needed signatures at the ready.  Liam does work terribly hard, Harry thought.  Some time with Ms. Smith will do him wonders.

"I don't believe I've had that pleasure," Sophia purred, placing her hand in his.

Liam's eyes widened as he took her in, all bosom and brunette curls, and he took a rather long time to let go of her fingers after he kissed her hand.  Ms. Swift's smirk showed that she had registered her cousin's early success.  

With only Ms. Swift to talk to, he found that she was a truly sweet girl. She secretly loved baking, despite how terribly common her mother considered it.  The longer he talked, the more her rather acerbic wit surfaced, and they poked fun at dear Mrs. Haverford-DuMond together.  Nicely, of course.  Harry didn't believe in being mean.

"So besides baking and sarcasm, do you have any other hidden talents, Ms. Swift?"  Harry asked, leaning in closely.  He enjoyed a good game of flirtation, although absolutely nothing would come of it.  

"Why yes, I suppose I do," Ms. Swift replied in a whisper, and Harry leaned closer still to catch it.  It was then that he saw Louis over his shoulder, whispering frantically with the Captain.  The Captain dismissed him with a flick of his hand, and Louis turned to leave.  Their eyes met for a second, and all Harry could see was him, the warm light of the lektrik lanterns bathing his golden skin.  He looked angelic, but not cherubic-- no, he reminded Harry of a warlike archangel, Gabriel or the like.  Louis finally looked away and ducked out the door, and it took Harry a second to remember where he was.

Ms. Swift was staring at him, glancing towards the spot the Louis had already vacated.

He realized she had finished speaking, and added frantically, "Yes, I find that rather fascinating as well.  Do say more?"

"Oh, you are also interested in making things go boom?"

"Yes, of cou- what?"

She rolled her eyes.  "Before you spaced out, I told you I secretly enjoying making explosive devices.  I must admit, I usually get a bit more of a reaction when I say that.  But you musn't tell my mother."

Harry's eyes widened at the admission.  "I must admit, my estimation of you has completely changed now, Ms. Swift."

"For the better?"

"For the best."  Harry said with a smirk.  "May I get you something to drink?"

Just as he stood up, the dinner came to a close, and the ladies began heading to the parlor and the men to the salon for drinks.  Gemma pulled Harry aside and tugged him down the corridor, her pink hair bouncing in the pins.  "Harry, I just heard something important from Mrs. Astor.  Apparently, her maid was talking to the kitchen boy, and found out that there was a robbery at the records room of Airship City three nights ago.  The only thing stolen was their file on this ship.  Apparently, everything related to the Victoriana was stolen."

Harry paled.  "Do you think it has something to do with us?"

Gemma bit her lip, and said, "I think it must.  I can't see any other reason to take the records.  It is terribly possible that we are headed into a trap.  I will begin trying to convince the Captain to modify our route a bit, just in case, but since I can't give him a particularly good reason, I'm not sure I will be successful."

"Are you sure we can't just tell him a little-"

"Are you mad, Harry?  Of course not!  But I need you and Niall to find out exactly what was in that file, and everything you can about the other passengers on this ship."

"How?"

"I don't know!" Gemma exclaimed, snapping her purple fan closed dramatically.  Harry flinched back slightly, remembering all of the poisoned darts he had painstakingly built into the delicate accessory.  She took a deep breathe and said quietly: "Explore, make friends with the crew, break a few minor laws.  Nothing above petty larceny, though, dear brother.  Our aristocratic immunity doesn't apply to everything.  I'll work on the society aspect of things, and the Captain.  I'll see what I can find out through gossip and the like.  You must look where I, an unaccompanied and respectable young lady, cannot."

"Of course.  I'll do my best."

"I should hope so," Gemma said.  "It's not just our lives, but the future of dear England herself on the line here, brother."

"I know.  Rule, britannia, and so on."

Harry shrugged out of his jacket as he climbed deeper into the warm bowels of the airship.  The passenger cabins were all near the prow of the ship, while the engines and crew areas were located in the darker, more windowless aft.  There wasn't much of a draft down here, and although Harry wasn't quite sure where it was, he could tell from the persistent hum that the engine was close.  It was almost certainly  responsible for the overpowering heat.  Harry's sheer shirt was going quite invisible as sweat glued it to his chest.

He slowed as he approached a better lit area.  Voices drifted towards him, and he made an effort to be as quiet as possible.  Although any crew members he might stumble upon wouldn't dare reprimand him, he knew that if he was seen down here he would be rapidly bustled back up to the passenger areas.  Which wouldn't be awful, but the questions that were bound to follow would be quite annoying.  There would immediately be whispers both on the passenger and crew decks that he was already ravaging a scullery maid, which would be both annoying and utterly incorrect.  Harry didn't mind a bit of ravaging, as long as it came with verbalized consent and cheekbones so sharp he could cut himself.  Somehow, he doubted the scullery maid of this ship would provide either.  

"Can we go any faster?"  The captain said, his voice piercing as he shouted over the hum of the engine.  It was louder here, and Harry edged forward to confirm that yes, that red and black monstrosity of chains and gears and coals was the engine.  The steam, though well concentrated out of the jets at the back, escaped the engine slightly and filled the room with hazy smoke that made it difficult for Harry to see.  

"No, Sir." Harry heard Louis reply.  Even the midshipman's sharp voice was unbelievably sexy, and Harry casually reached down to readjust his trousers.

Louis added, "We are already going at the max speed the ship will take.  If we try and push it further, not only will we need to refuel in Mexico, but we might take damage to the hull.  The wind up here is savage, Sir."

"Indeed."  The captain said.  "And it is vitally important that we stay on schedule.  Hopefully, we can swing out North a bit and modify our course without losing any major time.  Or at least, nothing we can't explain as minor engine issues."

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, why are we adjusting our route?"

Harry edged forward, straining to hear the captain's answer over the clatter and hum of the engine. 

The captain sighed, saying, "Just a precaution.  I know you heard about the robbery in records back at Airship City.  All of our planned routes were in that file.  I'm sure it doesn't matter, but something about this entire trip gives me a bad feeling.  The sooner we can unload all of the toffs and get back to ferrying cargo, the better.  They bring something bad with them.  Politics." He spat out.  "Avoid politics at all costs, Tomlinson."

"Oh, that's a shame, Captain.  All those stump speeches happening down here in the engine pits really had me inspired to campaign for parliament."

"Cut the sass and get back to work, Tomlinson,"  the captain said, with a slap to Louis's back that echoed through the room.  Harry pulled deeper into the shadows, relaxing when the captain crossed to the door on the opposite side of the massive engine room and shut it behind him. 

He began to back out of his hiding place to report to Gemma when his foot hooked on something.  With a massive clatter, Harry tumbled to the ground, wincing.  "Oh, bugger."

"Who's there?"  Louis called out, his foot steps light as he jogged over to Harry.  His eyes widened when he spotted Harry on the floor, tangled in a pile of wires.  "You aren't supposed to be down here," he said sharply.  He added a mocking "my lord" after a pronounced pause.

"I was just..umm...well I was doing a bit of...exploring?"

"Were you?" Louis asked.  "You don't seem too sure." 

Harry hastily began untangling the twisted wires from his ankle.  He tugged a few times, but it was only getting more tangled.  "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to get in your way, he said hastily, careful not to look at Louis as he did his best to free himself.

Harry finally glanced up, and then looked down again at the floor immediately, his cheeks flushing.  Why was that arched eyebrow and pursed lip so bloody attractive?  Harry was entirely aware of how pathetic it was that Louis was looking at him like a he was a bug to be smushed, and all he could think was please take me on this grimy engine floor.  Or something to that affect.  He tugged aggressively at the wire currently trapping him, and oops that only made it worse.

With a loud sigh, Louis got onto the floor and slapped Harry's hands away from the wire.  "You're making an embarrassing mess of this."

Harry leaned back, happy to stare at Louis as he made the most adorable concentrating face.

"Hey Louis," Harry said.  Louis glanced up at him, arching an eyebrow questioningly. "Wire electrical jobs so fun?"

"What?"

"Get it?  Because of all the wire?"  Harry said cheerfully, waving his hands to encompass the tangle. 

Louis stopped what he was doing to stare at Harry, his blue eyes wide.  "Did you just--?"

Harry nodded.

"That was awful."  Louis said, staring him down.  His face was straight and unimpressed for a good thirty seconds before the corner of his mouth twitched and he burst out laughing.  "That was so bad."

Harry chuckled along with him.

When Louis stopped laughing, he fixed a firm eye on Harry and noted, "I want to make it clear that I was laughing at you, not with you."

Harry shrugged.  "All laughter is good.  The world needs more laughter."

"Well, if we're being honest, electrical jobs aren't my favorite kind of jobs in the world."  Louis said, smirking.

Harry's eyes dropped to Louis's crotch so fast he got a crick in his neck.  "Yeah," Harry said, staring at the bulge in Louis' rather tight working pants.  "Me neither."

Louis looked back to the wire, his cheeks slightly pink.  It was the first time Harry had seen Louis vaguely flustered, and he liked it.  "Eyes up, lordling," Louis said.

"Is 'lordling' a term of endearment, or an insult?" Harry asked.

Louis twisted the wire one more time and Harry's foot bounced free.   Louis hopped to his feet and held out a hand to pull Harry up, saying, "I haven't quite decided yet, lordling.  Perhaps a little bit of both."

Harry stumbled into Louis when Louis tugged him up.  Louis was a mass of warmth and muscles and sweat and Harry's eyes focused on Louis' mouth.

"Bugger it," Louis muttered, and then physically shoved Harry against the wall.  

"Ooof!" Harry exclaimed, surprised, before Louis's mouth crashed onto his and shut down the thinking part of his brain.  And then all Harry could think was Louis louis louislouis as Louis's body pressed him against the wall, setting every part of Harry on fire.

All at once Louis was gone, standing three feet away from Harry and frowning.  

Harry sagged against the wall, completely flustered and distracted by the hottest snog he had ever had in his snog-filled youth.  When he had finally managed to gather his thoughts enough speak, he muttered plaintively, "Why'd you stop?"

"Because you're a paying passenger.  And could get me fired."

"Or promoted?"

Louis glared at him.  "I'd rather my next promotion not because I spent two weeks banging a member of the royal family-"

"Very far from the throne!"

"-but because I actually deserved it."

Harry winced.  Louis did not look pleased.  "I'm sorry," Harry said.  "I really didn't mean to insult you.  I would never let personal things infringe upon the professional, your professional life or mine.  I'm not thinking straight right now...I can't think straight around you and all your..." He waved his hands awkwardly. "You-ness."

Louis smirked for a minute before he remembered he was trying to be annoyed at Harry.  He glared at Harry again, but his blush was so pronounced that Harry was entirely unbothered by the faux animosity.  If anything, he was even more turned on.  Louis had a wonderful glare.  Harry made a note to provoke Louis again at a moment with better lighting, that he might absorb the glower in all its angry glory. 

"—and you were specifically informed to stay in thepassenger areas and—are you even listening to me?"

"I was watching your mouth move.  It's terribly distracting.  Maybe if you turned around I could pay attention better.  Except for your bum.  That would be distracting too, I suppose-"

"I feel objectified.  I'm trying to be a fucking professional, you know!"

"I know," Harry said solemnly, "that's part of the problem.  I find competence terribly attractive in a bloke."

"Because you're so incompetent?"

"You're trying to be insulting but I don't deny my incompetence.  I'm terribly clumsy.  But I have other uses!"

"I'm sure that mouth of yours has many uses," Louis muttered under his breath.  

Unfortunately for him, Harry had very good hearing.  Harry smiled brightly.  "Why, that was terribly dirty and unprofessional!  I love it!  Would you like a demonstration of my mouth's capabilities?  I'm perfectly willing to oblige."

Louis's mouth opened slightly in shock, his eyes dropping to stare at Harry's lips, before he groaned and turned away.  "Stop trying to distract me! You aren't supposed to be down here!"  He paused, suddenly, and turned back to look at Harry suspiciously.  "Why are you down here anyways?  I know you didn't come down here to find me, you would never have been able to find me on purpose."

"I was just bored, and I wanted a walk."

"There are plenty of corridors in the passenger section."

"But they are filled with people I know, or actively don't want to know."

"So you'd rather slum it with the working class, and then hop back up to your cabin to leave us to clean up the mess you made?"  Louis asked sharply, his hand waving at the wires Harry had accidentally tangled.  

"No, that's not what I-" Harry said, running a hand through his hair distractedly.  "And I would have cleaned that.  I was trying to when you took it upon yourself to jump in!  I just wanted to see how the ship worked.  I only really know about it theoretically, and I wanted to see it in practice.  I have some ideas-"

"-ideas about taking Daddy's money and buying one of your own?"

"No!"  Harry shouted, "Will you stop judging me without listening?  I'm an inventor for fucks sake!"

"An invent-" Louis jumped in skeptically, but Harry talked over him in one of the few assertive moments of his life, exclaiming, "And I have an idea to combine steam and battery to overcome wind power, but I needed to be able to take a look at a typical model reacting to winds over the Atlantic!  My test runs of my new model have only been over land, and I wanted to compare how they reacted!"  Harry took a deep breath, his mind racing as he stared at the cyclical turning of the steel beast in front of him.  Time slowed down, and he broke the entire engine down into thousands of interacting puzzle pieces until he saw where the weakness in the model lay.  Making up an invention on the spot wasn't particularly easy, but Louis knew a lot about engines, and Harry had to give him a real reason to let him spend time in the crew deck.  And then the lightbulb went off.  "Imagine if the engine was lighter, if it used high-aluminum low-density steel and-"

"Wouldn't work.  The heat's too much, it would melt the aluminum."

"Not if you lined the aluminum with heat-resistent microbeads, and sent the steam into a compressor instead of using it to immediately spin the fans.  You could hold the steam longer, use it to power the fans and move the ship with more strength even in the face of hurricane-worthy storms and-"

"But a compressor requires space.  Think about the ones they use on the cross-continental trains, they take up an entire car, and they're too heavy for-"

"No, they aren't too heavy!  We think about everything in terms of steel here, but I'm not talking about steel!  Microbead-lined aluminum!"

"Microbeads are untested.  I saw the display at the World Fair, I saw how they were claimed as a cure-all-save-the-world invention.  I also heard the controversy, every engineer has.  The mysterious inventor won't release any more information about them, and the business that was selling them went shuttered almost the minute it opened.  Everybody says they went out of business.  And no patent has been registered, so nobody knows anything about them.  They looked cool, but they were almost certainly fake.  It was just a scam.  And even if it wasn't a scam, they aren't being developed to be mass produced and they won't be for ages.  There aren't enough microbeads in the world to do what you're talking about."

"You're wrong!" Harry exclaimed, breathing furiously.  "They do exist, and they work as promised.  The factories are being built, but quietly.  The Queen doesn't want-" Harry bit off his words with a gasp, his eyes wide with panic.  He knew better than to tell a fit boy state secrets.  Or at least, he used to know better.

"How do you know that?"  Louis said, his brow furrowed.

"You can't tell anyone what I just said, Louis!"

"How do you know that?" Louis repeated, stepping forward and staring at Harry. 

Harry's hands clenched by his sides as he avoided Louis' piercing stare. "You can't tell anybody, Louis, you don't understand what will-"

"You're what, seventeen?"  Louis asked.  "How do you know so much about microbeads!"  When Harry stayed frozen, panicking inside, Louis shouted, "Tell me!"

Harry flinched at the sound, his eyes torn away from the engine to land on Louis's curious, almost angry face.  "How do I know?"  Harry asked, his voice lowering to a growl as he leaned towards Louis, who wouldn't stop asking fucking questions! Louis stepped back slightly, his breath hitching as Harry stared him down, Harry's words sharpening into the disdainful accent of a true aristocrat.  Harry stepped towards him this time, almost predatory. "I know because I invented them.  They're mine," Harry murmured. "They're mine, and they're either going to save the world, or end it."