Chapter Text
“Harry, you're so drunk!”
With a drink in each hand, Harry giggles and raises both glasses into the air. Absolutely buzzing, happy to be flowing away on every colourful cocktail.
“I’m tipsyyyy.” Harry slurs, dragging his words with a sweet pout. He leans on Niall as he speaks right in his ear, “These do nothing for me. Do you want me to walk a line? You know I can. Can I? Can I? Please, I'll walk so good.”
Niall laughs with his head thrown back, “God, you're fucking wasted, mate. Look at you.”
“I’m not,” Harry screams over the loud music, stomping his feet sillily. He is not drunk, okay? “Let me show you.”
Harry starts walking in a line that is definitely not straight, just like him. The alcohol in his hand starts sloshing, his balance uneven and suddenly he is surrounded by people as they watch and cheer for him.
Niall shakes his head, a hand on his mouth to contain his laugh. What can he say, he's got a cute and goofy best friend to deal with.
“Are you looking, Niall?” Harry asks cutely, his brows knitted in concentration, his droopy eyes sharp on his shoes. The two glasses in his hand are half empty by now.
“Yes,” Niall chuckles, and so do all the partygoers.
Completing a zig-zag line, Harry gets cheered but he frowns when his eyes fall on Niall. He whines, “You laughing at me?”
Niall immediately goes tight-lipped, “Never! You're doing amazing!”
“I’m fabulous!” Harry shouts with a smile, everyone chanting it back to him. As they should.
“So silly,” Niall mutters to himself, smiling softly. He makes a mental note to catch hold of Harry by the end of the night and drop him home.
The night went on, the party getting intense and louder after each shot Harry took. Completely relaxed ignoring Niall's worrisome looks.
Even in his tipsy state, Harry was effortlessly charming everyone around him. His laughter was contagious, and his dance moves, though wobbly, were endearing.
With each drink, Harry's cheerfulness grew.
He was moving from group to group, making everyone feel included and spreading joy. He surely lost touch with Niall in the process, but who cares? He is having fun and so is Niall.
Somewhere, he thinks.
At one point, he found himself at the snack bar, retelling his friends an exaggerated version of his latest adventure.
“So there I was,” Harry said, taking a huge bite of pizza, speaking with his mouthful, “Standing on top of a mountain— well, a really big hill, but still— and I’m shouting to the wind, ‘I am the king of the world!’ And then, of course, I slipped and almost fell into a pond.”
His friends burst into laughter, clapping him on the back.
As they continued chatting, Harry's other friends joined in, sharing their own stories and adding to the lively atmosphere.
The moment was interrupted when the front door swung open with a loud bang, causing the music to stop.
The room fell silent as a powerful figure made his way in, his glare sharp, an armed squad following him.
Harry who was busy having a drunk nonsense conversation, suddenly found himself captivated when he turned around to face the man.
The officer was standing in the middle of the giant living area, with his broad shoulders and striking physique. His aura beyond powerful.
A deep-set frown etched into his rugged face, he looks like a man who means business.
His dark yet prettiest shade of blue eyes scanned the room with an air of authority, the kind that made everyone in the room straighten up. The contrast between the vibrant, chaotic party and his stern, no-nonsense presence was striking.
His gaze locked with the strict officer, and his mouth fell slightly open. The room seemed to blur around the edges as he became utterly mesmerised by the officer’s commanding presence.
It was as if a spotlight had been cast on the handsome officer, and everything else faded into insignificance.
The officer’s demeanour was a mix of exhaustion and irritation. His brows were furrowed, and his jaw was clenched, but there was an undeniable strength in his posture that Harry found irresistible.
As the blue-eyed officer strode further into the room, his sharp, authoritative voice cut through the silence. “Everyone, clear out. We are shutting this party down.”
The crowd, already on edge, frantically made their way out, scrambling toward the exits, knocking over drinks and chairs in their haste to escape.
Harry was transfixed by the officer's powerful presence, while his friends hurried past him, their faces a blur of panic.
But Harry stays rooted to the spot, his eyes following the blue-eyed officer unabashedly.
The officer’s gruff voice and commanding presence had an almost magnetic effect on Harry. He felt a flutter in his chest, the thought of being cuffed by this gorgeous officer left him breathless.
Harry has never seen a man with so much dimension. The way he walks, the way he talks... the way he is making Harry feel inside.
It's truly unbelievable, he is sure he shouldn't feel so strongly for someone at just a mere sight of them.
But here he is, isn't he?
When the officer finally notices Harry standing there while all the others disappeared within minutes, he approaches him, his frown filled with annoyance yet there was curiosity in his eyes.
Harry looks at him, his eyes wide and sparkling. Up close, the officer was beyond godly. He had never seen a man with this beautiful of a face and those blue eyes... oh.
Oh, the eyes
He recognises the colour immediately.
Louis Blue.
His favourite colour.
Wouldn't it be crazy if his name was something like Louis? Harry thought funnily.
“Hello.” The mean officer started gruffly, “I am Chief Superintendent Louis Tomlinson from MPS. Are you alright?”
Chief Superintendent Louis Tomlinson.
Louis.
Harry giggles to himself. He's always right.
“Oh! Hi, Mr Tomlinson, I am Harry.” he slurs his words just a bit, offering a wobbly, flirtatious smile. “I didn’t realise the party had such... heroic guests.”
The officer’s mean facade softens slightly as he took in Harry's charm and sincerity. “Yes, not quite the party you were expecting. Let us get you out of here, yeah?”
The voice— Oh, God.
Harry felt weak in his knees. He swallows a moan down his throat at how sexy and raspy the officer's voice was, but he reminds himself to behave.
He nods and attempts to walk ahead but this time he actually feels his knees wobble. Before he could fall and break his face in two, he felt the officer’s firm grip catching him on time.
The touch was electric, Harry felt goosebumps on his entire body.
“Careful there,” He heard the older man gently reprimand, “You okay?”
Harry looks up, his eyes soft and droopy, “Mhm hmm, I’m buzzin'.”
Harry could see the sudden softness on the mean officer’s face. Harry's gaze stuck on the pretty lips, his mind imagining closing the gap and kissing the older man until dawn.
Instead, Harry mumbles, “You saved my life, Officer Tomlinson.”
Tomlinson clearly resists a snort, “You stumbled, it was not life-threatening.”
Shaking his head, Harry grips the toned biceps tightly, standing straight and leaning entirely on the patient man. “No. You're a hero.”
“I am just doing my job.” The officer rolls his eyes and continues, “Come on, let us get you out of here.”
“As you say, officer.” Harry nods, letting the man take him outside.
They walk slowly, the officer letting Harry lean all his weight on him. Harry could feel the badges press against his chest and torso.
It was so hot.
Fuck.
What would it take for Mr Tomlinson to cuff him down and make him take it all night long?
“Ouch,” Harry shouts out of nowhere, utterly occupied in his daydreaming to realise he stepped on some broken glass. He squeezes Tomlinson's arms painfully hard.
“What happened?” The officer is instantly alert, the slight commotion making the squad gather around them.
“A broken piece of glass poked my foot,” Harry whimpers as he cutely yet clumsily pulls his leg up to show his shoes. He is swinging on his feet, drunk out of his mind.
Kneeling right away, Tomlinson grabs the leg and pulls the offending piece of glass out of Harry's foot.
Looking up, the blue-eyed officer sat on his knees, “Is it hurting? Can you walk?”
Harry pouts harder, it definitely didn't hurt that bad and he could definitely run a marathon if he wants. He can even walk in a straight line, if needed.
But the handsome and rugged officer doesn't need to know that, does he now?
“Hurts so bad,” Harry murmurs, trying to give his best doe eyes, “Hurts to walk, sir.”
The officer gets up with a sigh, and puts an arm around Harry's back and the other one behind his knees, picking him up bridal style.
“Officer!” Harry gasps scandalously whilst being carried outside by the handsome officer. His head is dizzy, but the view in front of him is worth it. “You're so strong!”
“That I am,” Tomlinson tells him, his tone fond.
As they make their way to the patrol car, Harry keeps chatting, his gaze lingering. “So, Officer Tomlinson, tell me— do you always rescue charming drunks, or am I just lucky?”
“You are a talker, are you not?” Tomlinson asks, “Am I not scaring you enough?”
“No,” Harry shakes his head adamantly while he is placed on his feet, a head rush incoming, “You're so lovely to look at.”
Tomlinson's cheeks flushes slightly, he instantly schools his face whilst clearing his throat. “Do you remember your address?”
“I do,” Harry says after a hard pause, “I'll….” he fishes inside his pockets, looking for his phone, “I need to Uber.”
“No need for that, we will drop you. You are heavily drunk, I cannot risk sending you alone.” Tomlinson tells him. “Address?”
"I am barely tipsyyy, officer." Harry whines, "I will walk in a straight line for you, please look at me."
Harry puts his arms out to balance himself as if he is walking on a tightrope. Each step is wobbly than the previous one.
Tomlinson gathers the courage to not lose his professional demeanour and laugh out loud at the absolute antics of this boy who is very clearly wasted.
"I am walking brilliantly, aren't I?" Harry asks, his footsteps curving to the left as he speaks, "Aren't I, officer?"
Tomlinson's squad were subtly enjoying the show. He turns to look at them with a smirk on his face, then turns back to let his eyes follow the curly-haired boy.
"Beyond brilliant," Tomlinson says, his tone moderately sweet. "Kindly walk back to me."
"As you wish, sir." Harry turns around, his glassy hooded eyes firm on the blue ones. "See, I am not drunk. I walked in the straightest line eve—"
Stumbling on his foot, Harry was once again falling on Tomlinson's arms. How does he catch him every time? Is he a superhero?
"Hmm, sure." Tomlinson mutters, holding Harry under his armpits, "You are nearly sober."
"Exactly, officer." Harry mumbles, wrapping his arms around Tomlinson's torso, "You get me."
Tomlinson walks them back to the mobile, with a slight flush on his cheeks. He gently detaches Harry away from his chest, leaning down to ask, "Do you know your address?"
“Oh, here.” Harry grins dopily and hands him his phone with his details. He hiccups and whispers a real soft, “Thank you for letting me ride you, officer."
Tomlinson definitely turns red at that.
Harry giggles and covers his mouth with the back of his hand, "Sorry, I mean ride with you."
“Sure,” Tomlinson exhales and looks at the details, learning the boy's full name as well. He gets closer, a bit of hesitancy on his face, “I would need to pat you down before you enter the mobile. It is protocol.”
The wettest dream of Harry might just come true.
“May I, Harry?” Officer Tomlinson asks when Harry doesn't reciprocate.
His name. The gorgeous officer took his name, it sounded heavenly from his mouth. Harry feels his cheeks burning, his lips tingling for a kiss.
“All yours, sir,” Harry bashfully stretches his arms wide. “You can do whatever you want with me, I'll take it.”
Tomlinson shakes his head, his lips almost forming a smile. He hides it well because he's got a silly boy to tame.
He starts patting him down, and once done he asks Harry to turn around.
“Which way, officer?” Harry fakes innocence, and it hurts how obvious he is being with it.
“That way, please,” Tomlinson tells him regardless, patting him down once he turns around. “Hands behind your back.”
Harry easily obliges and puts his hands behind his back, peeking over his shoulder.
“I am required to handcuff you before seating you in the mobile.” The handsome officer explains. "Do not worry, it is protocol."
Harry nods, “That's okay.”
Unhooking the handcuffs from the belt on his waist, Tomlinson latches it on one hand at a time.
“I'm into this, officer.” Harry murmurs, but his voice isn't as low as he thinks it is, “I won't mind being tied to your bed later.”
A low chuckle comes from afar, an officer with black hair and hazel eyes is having a hard time containing his amusement at the interaction unfolding in front of him.
“Malik,” Tomlinson warns.
“My apologies, sir.” Malik schools his face but Tomlinson knows his best friend is still laughing underneath that firm face and who wouldn't? When a boy who barely knows him is so clearly infatuated by his mere presence. It's hilarious.
“All done,” Tomlinson announces loudly. “Your corporation helps, please step inside.”
“Everybody knows that I’m a good boy, officer,” Harry tells him proudly, stepping in the backseat.
Taking a deep breath in, Tomlinson sighs. A chuckle escaping his lips seconds later as he rounds behind the car to get to the front.
“You are clearly enjoying this.” Malik teases, walking beside him.
Tomlinson rolls his eyes, “No, I am not.”
“Liar.” Malik mouths and walks back to the squad.
Getting in the driver's seat, Tomlinson fixes the seat belt across his chest and takes a peek at the mischievous boy from the rear-view mirror. To his surprise, the boy was fast asleep, loud snores filling the space.
Laughing to himself, Tomlinson starts the engine and drives off.