Chapter Text
“You’re telling me… that you got him?”
“Uh – yes, yes Sir!”
“How on earth did you manage that?” he just wasn’t convinced, this was seemingly impossible, they’d been after him for four years!
“He flipped his car during a chase, Sir,”
All this time and he crashes his sodding car? Captain Lestrade laughed at that, “Get him to the station, Payne – and make sure he’s bloody well restrained!”
“Yes, Sir!”
The Captain hung up, and smirked. They finally fucking got Harry Styles.
----
Half the station stood outside, waiting for his arrival. There were flood lights, due to it being the middle of the bloody night and SWAT teams had barricaded the streets from reporters and civilians.
When Detective Louis Tomlinson first laid eyes on the captive, he was conflicted to say the least. Could this kid really be a psychopath?
The truck pulled up, and the men surrounded the back. The doors were pulled open, and the curly-haired lad, not much younger than Louis himself, was escorted out.
He was in a straight jacket form of a contraption, and two men grasping hold of him at each side. He had rips in his tight – really fucking tight – black skinny jeans, revealing large cuts and grazes – which he got from his crash, no doubt, and his black leather jacket was scratched up too. He even had some deep scrapes on his face. They looked painful.
Oh wow, his face – Louis was not going to keep looking, or describe the boy, no, because this was not the fucking Notebook, nor was he was not going to eye-rape a criminal.
The kid held his head high as he was taken into the building, almost relishing in the looks of terror he got.
Louis definitely did not miss the way this boy looked him over and licked at his split bottom lip.
----
The boy – the infamous, Harry Styles – was taken into an interrogation room. The halls were patrolled by SWAT and policemen at all times, and Harry wasn’t allowed more than a few feet away from a guard.
Louis strolled to watch his interrogation, along with his partner Zayn.
“He’s pretty fit, for a psycho,”
Louis swatted at Zayn.
Captain Lestrade seated himself at the seat opposite Harry.
“How lovely to see you again, Captain,” Harry said, smirking. Louis thought he looked far too pleased to be in there.
“Yes, Hello, Mr. Styles,”
“Always so formal; are you here to tell me I’m going to jail?”
“Once you confess to your crimes, but whether you go to jail or not isn’t really up to me.”
His face fell, “What crimes?” he raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence.
Lestrade’s expression was hard, “You know what crimes, Mr. Styles,”
He chuckle and looked smug all of a sudden, “Oh I know, I just like hearing you say them,”
The Captain picked up a sheet of paper, and began reading.
“You have been charged with five murders,”
“Ah yes,” the boy nodded.
“Theft, robbery – armed robbery,”
“Mm, go on,”
“Vandalism, arson,”
“I do like fire,”
“Homicide; and mass murder,”
Harry nodded, considering this, but then shook his head, “Nope, doesn’t sound like me,”
“Mr. Styles, it would be in your best interest to cooperate. You do realize you have evaded the police on more than six other occasions –”
“It’s hardly my fault you couldn’t catch me,”
Lestrade leaned a little closer, eyes narrowing, “You’ll be going away for a long time – and I think that’s pretty bad for a boy barely out of his teens.”
Harry actually beamed at that, like he knew something the Captain didn’t – which, he probably did.
Lestrade stood up, looking livid, “Get him in a holding cell, chain him up or something – and keep a patrolled watch on him.”
“Have a good night, darling!” Harry called and Louis thought that if his hands weren’t strapped to himself, he’d have blown the Captain a kiss.
----
“You want a coffee?”
Zayn shook his head, eyes still on his paper work. Louis rolled his eyes and wandered down the halls to the staff room. It was the early hours of the morning, so the place was usually pretty empty. Plus, most people would be dawdling outside Style’s cage.
There was one person in the staff room though, and it made Louis’ heart threaten to stop. Or jump out his throat.
“Hello, Detective,”
A criminal was sitting at one of the tables, feet propped onto another chair, flipping through a stupid celebrity gossip magazine.
But it wasn’t just any old criminal, no, it was Harry fucking Styles.
“Kettles just boiled,” he told him before going back to his magazine.
Louis was confused – and mildly terrified.
“Is… is this a joke? H-how did you get out?”
Harry looked up, “Not a joke, I just wanted tea,” he said casually, tossing the magazine aside and let his eyes graze over Louis, “Detective Tomlinson, yes?”
Louis swallowed thickly as Harry stalked over to him slowly.
“You’re pretty new here aren’t you? Good though, from what I’ve seen and heard,” he shrugged, coming closer.
This boy was two years younger, and he was fucking taller than Louis. Why was everyone taller? Not important right now.
“You n-need to go back to your cell,” he said. He tried his hardest to sound stern – he really did.
Harry pouted, stopping a few feet away from him, looking challenging and very intimidating for a lanky lad with curly hair, “Really? And how do you plan to get me in there?”
He whipped out his gun, and pointed it at the boy’s face. But Harry didn’t even flinch, just smirked and kept his gaze trained on Louis’ face.
“Wow, didn’t see that one coming,”
Louis felt the air rush out of him, and then he was on the ground, lacking a gun and Harry Styles was straddling him.
“You’re a smart lad, Louis, that probably wasn’t your best plan,”
“Worth a shot,” he tried to shrug.
He smirked at that, “Cheeky, my favourite,”
Harry tossed the gun between his hands, and then gave Louis a menacing look. He could help the hitch in his breath when he slowly ground his hips onto Louis’.
“Stop,” he attempted a growl, but it just came out breathy.
Harry did it again, and again, and it didn’t take much for him to get him worked up. Louis didn’t realize fit, psychotic criminals were his type.
“I wonder what the Captain would think if he saw you right now, getting hard underneath an insane criminal,” his breathing was a bit off, clearly just as affected as Louis.
He was so turned on; so, so, so turned on – so… fuck it.
“I don’t think you’re as insane as you’d like everyone to think,” he bucked his hips up once, and grabbed a hold of Harry’s hips.
“You are smart,” Harry teased, “so unfortunate that the team has to lose you,”
Louis froze.
“What?”
Harry swiftly flipped him, pinning Louis onto his stomach, mashing the side of his face onto the floor and cuffing his hands behind his back. He was using Louis’ fucking hand cuffs too.
The boy wriggled on Louis’ thighs, and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “You’re officially off the force, love,”
“You’re going to kill me?” Louis asked; voice shaky and small.
Harry chuckled, “No way, you’re far too pretty for that. You’re coming with me, Detective,”