Run Like the Devil • L.S. • Larry Supernatural AU

Chapter 5

God knows where he got it from or how or why, but Niall has a tattoo machine in a box in his attic, which he hands to Louis with a significant look. Louis is dubious, but he acknowledges the necessity of binding Harry as soon as possible and not involving an innocent tattoo artist in the process, and he trusts Niall as much as he trusts anyone.

Unfortunately, agreeing to this plan seems to mean agreeing to tattooing Harry himself, given that he's the only one among him, Liam, and Niall who's got enough experience with spellwork and isn't deathly terrified of needles. And that it had been his reckless, impulsive decision to make the deal in the first place.

Neither Liam nor Niall had really freaked out, which Louis doesn't know how to react to. It's a relief that they're not angry with him—Liam's big, strong, lethal, and Louis was poised to flee while he explained what he had done—but it scares him that they don't seem to realize just how dangerous a situation he's put them all in. What's worse, they both like Harry, which makes it harder for Louis to repress the part of him that really likes him too. He'd come downstairs this morning after a fitful, sleepless night to find Harry flipping pancakes at the stove and Niall doubled over in honking laughter. On closer inspection, he had tears in his eyes.

I'm the only one who can make Niall laugh like that, a nasty, jealous part of him thought. It had taken him aback with its pure irrationality and pettiness. He's not supposed to feel like this anymore, but he figures it must be the demon proximity. It makes him even more anxious to get Harry mostly powerless, which Niall assures him is completely possible, and, in fact, "a piece of cake, Tommo, don't you worry."

Niall spends the whole morning in his office/living room/library, poring over huge, dusty books with thick, heavy pages that might be made of some kind of skin, and scribbling notes and symbols on a legal pad at terrifying speed. Louis is sort of awed, as he always is.

Harry only complains a little bit about being told to sit and stay where he is: under a Devil's trap, within Louis' view, with his legs bound to the chair's legs. The last part might be overkill. Louis can admit that much. It gives him a little bit of peace of mind, though, knowing Harry at least has to make a lot of noise if he wants to try something. He doesn't; he just sits, slouching a little, and seems perfectly content reading a book he'd plucked from one of Niall's teetering bookcases. Let no one say Louis is not a benevolent jailer.

He even lasts half an hour before he's overwhelmed by the urge to needle Harry about his book choice.

"Harry Potter? Seriously? Narcissistic much?"

Harry doesn't look up at him, but his cheeks flush slightly, and his nose scrunches for a moment. "I've heard good things," he says.

Louis feels his eyebrows shoot towards his hairline. "You haven't read them? What, too low-brow for you?"

"No," Harry says mildly, and turns a page. "Just never got around to it."

"Not when you were a kid?" Louis blurts.

That makes Harry still for a moment, his eyes fixed on one spot on the page. "Weren't around when I was a kid," he says, and goes on reading.

Oh. Right. Not that he wants to know, but—"When were you born, anyway?"

"As a human?"

"Yes, as a human. What else would I have meant?"

Harry tilts his head, considering."Well, there's a...sect, you could call it, of, um, demons who think of turning as, like, being born again."

Louis stares at him. "Evangelical demons?"

"Demongelicals," Harry says, corner of his mouth ticking up slightly. Louis scoffs. "Come on, that was funny. But sort of. They're a bit much."