Title: You'll Never Die in This Town Again. Chapter 3.
Author:
mothergoddamn Pairing/characters: Harry/OMC Harry/Perry
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Do not own, so do not sue.
Summary: Harry is tired of Perry not trusting him on cases, so he sets out to prove his own worth. Naturally it goes very, very wrong.
Author Note: Massive thanks to
rat_chan for all her help.
Previous:
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2 You'll Never Die in This Town Again-Chapter 3.
"The usual?" Richard asked as Harry slid into the booth opposite. "I hope so because I ordered it anyway."
"Oh, sure. Thanks, man." There was a moment of awkward silence that always seemed to prelude these meetings, a strange feeling in the air that seemed to throb with the tension. Harry shot the kid a tight smile, his fingers curling round the pint glass. Shooting a glance around the dilapidated bar Harry wondered again what drew Richard to this kind of place, amongst these people Richard was the proverbial sore thumb. “So..., er. I have a question.” Harry opened his jacket and pulled a small notepad from the inside pocket.
“You have got to be kidding me?” Richard exclaimed, banging his hand down on the table, causing the glasses to clatter. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, that’s why I called? I don’t...what’s wrong? I need to know this inside and out if I’m going to crack it.”
“Harry! We’ve been out every night this week! I told you everything I knew that day in your office!”
“Yes, but this is to jog your memory! It...”
“Oh, bullshit! If it’s not the case than it’s your assistant Perry! What do you really want to talk about, Harry?” Richard’s expression softened in alliance with his voice and he leant across the table. Hand edging toward’s Harry’s. “Do you love him?”
“Love who?” Harry asked, playing with the bar coaster nervously.
“This Perry? Oh, baby. It’s okay. I’ve been there, Harry. Don’t ever fall for the straight ones.”
“What? No! Of course I don’t love him! He’s my colleague! He’s my friend! Just because we live together doesn’t mean anything! I like him, sure, but fucking love? Plus, gay by the way. Him I mean. Not me. I’m not even...do I act gay? Fuck! Not that I’m saying there’s a...a, certain...you honestly think Perry comes off as straight? You saw that haircut, right? Anyway, the case! The case!”
“Whoa! Protest much?” Richard held his hands up in mock surrender. “I don’t even know what point to address first! Okay, right. First of all, the case can wait. Secondly, people don’t give people jobs and rent free homes in the nice part of LA if they just like someone. You did. That makes me suspicious to your motives. And yes, I saw that haircut. It didn’t particularly scream cock lover to me but I’ll take your word on it and lastly...I didn’t realise. I’m sorry.” Richard nudged at Harry’s fingers with his own, the nails imbedding into the skin gently, before he retreated his hand.
“Realise what?” Harry asked, eyes narrowed.
“That you’re still chatting with Mr Tumnus and Aslan.” Richard grinned at Harry’s confused expression
“I’m sorry, man. I’m, like, fucking lost here.”
“I know. But it’s okay. I know the way out.” Richard downed the rest of his drink and then rose, standing next to the booth and staring down at a perplexed Harry. “Listen, come on. I want to show you something.” He jangled his car keys with a smile and then, without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and left.
What the fuck just happened?” Harry thought, tucking the notepad back into his jacket. With a deep steadying sigh, he followed the client out.
---
"How I detest the dawn. The grass always looks like it's been left out all night." Richard said, observing the ground.
"What?" Harry gasped out, catching himself before slipping once more down the steep hill.
"The Dark Corner? Clifton Webb? And I thought you knew your noir, Harry!" Richard laughed back.
“Kinda distracted here. Concentrating on not tumbling to my death and all that. Hey, hey! Be careful. Stop leaping and shit!”
“I can’t believe you’ve never been up here!” Richard laughed, reaching the flat road before Harry.
“I can see it fine from down fucking there.” Reaching Richard and grabbing the fence like a lifeline, Harry tried to compose himself for a moment. He’d hated heights since that Christmas and this was no exception. Plus these shoes were the last things you should be midnight hiking in. “What are you doing?” Don’t climb the fucking thing! The sign here says that...”
“Who cares what that sign says?” Richard asked, jumping down on to the other side. “When we got this one right here?” He held up his hands towards the stark white letters spelling out Hollywood.
Gingerly, Harry scaled the fence, cursing Richard’s youth and his own goddamn stupidity. He was going to break his fucking neck. Swinging one leg over and he gripped the framework and tried not to look out towards the LA Basin. Slowly he brought his other leg over and proceeded to climb down. Richard helped. Well, he guided Harry by holding his buttocks during the exertion.
“Jesus,” Harry breathed as he reached the bottom. He turned to face Richard but was halted by the view. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed on seeing the thousands of lights that shone below.
“Come on, hold onto my arm. Let’s get closer.” Numbly Harry allowed Richard to lead them until they stood in the shadow of the H.
“That’s unreal. It’s just unfuckingbelievable.”
“Isn’t it? It’s so beautiful. Kind of like a God lording over his people.” Harry didn’t like that, it sounded cheap somehow and he frowned slightly at the bitterness in its tone. “Romantic, too. Bet you wish you were here with Perry?”
“Don’t...don’t start that, again. Okay?” But it was true. Perry wouldn’t have made that petty crack for one.
“I forgot. You’re just friends.”
“Yeah. Just friends.” He could feel Richard’s blue eyes almost boring into him but ignored it. Instead looking out towards LA. At all those lives living out their own little movies.
"Hmm? Hey, did you ever hear of Peg Entwistle?"
Startled at the subject change, Harry shook his head. The name was somehow familar and yet he couldn't place it. "It...it rings a bell."
"She was an actress. In the 1930's? They said she was an amazing stage actress, you know. Anyway, she had dreams. Big ones. So she packed her bags and came to Hollywood. Packed up everything she had and moved in with her Uncle. She lived directly under this thing.” He gestured vaguely towards the nearest houses below. “And then? Nothing. She was one of the many that didn't make it. She waited every single day for that call to come while languishing under this. She was flat broke, she couldn't even afford the train fare back to New York. Then she killed herself."
"Oh, I don't...How?" Harry asked.
Richard answered by pointing up towards the H above. "She placed her bag and shoes at the bottom with a note. Then she climbed a workman's ladder and jumped."
"Jesus! From the sign? That's pretty fucking tragic,” Harry paused as a wave of pity for the girl surged through him. “But I don't understand why you're..."
"Telling you? Because chasing an impossible dream can be lonely, Harry, and when you don't get it there is no pain like it. You seem a nice guy, I don't want to see you get hurt." Richard stepped towards him and instinctively Harry took a step back, his back pressing up against the structure. "You're too sweet to be hurt, Harry,"
“So this was all a point? Bringing me here and telling me about suicidal gals? What exactly are you saying, Richard?”
“I’m saying life is too fucking short to chase dreams, Harry. I’m saying that you should just take what you can. What’s right in front of you, hold it like you’re life depends on it because it probably does. I’m saying...” his voice dropped to a whisper and suddenly his face was the only thing that filled Harry's vision and he had to strain his neck to meet the other man’s eyes. “I’m saying this...” Richard pressed his lips to Harry’s, his hands moving up and down slowly as if to placate a skittish animal. Harry didn’t react, his lips unresponsive and his eyes open. He simply allowed it to happen as his head burst with static. Richard wasn’t Perry, could never be Perry. But Harry couldn’t have Perry. And here was Richard, warm and needing. Did Harry want to end up like the failed actress? Falling for an impossible dream?
Harry realised that too much time was slipping by and soon he would have to decide. Push Richard away or kiss back? Jump or stay?
Harry decided.
He jumped.
Chapter 4