"you take the good along with the bad, sometimes you're happy and sometimes you're sad"
Title: You'll Never Die in This Town Again. Chapter 5.
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
Chapter 3
Chaper 4
You'll Never Die in This Town Again-Chapter 5.
It took Harry about an hour to find Richard. There was barely room to stand, let alone dance, and Harry found himself wishing that he’d stayed and helped Perry layout the case after all. He smiled to himself, Perry had actually being willing to listen to his ideas for once! This whole undercover thing had worked. It had actually gone in some way to earning a little of the guy’s respect.
He nodded at the few acquaintances he had gotten to know through Richard and winced at how old he must look to them. Still, as long as he was starting to be trusted within this group, which was all that mattered, the more it could lead to information about the Silverman’s thief. He drifted here and there, attempting to move his body in what he hoped looked like passable dance moves. The beat, however, had no interest in keeping him company and he soon gave up the chase, choosing to mooch through the crowd and collect snatches of overheard conversation instead. Soon he gave up on even that and decided to find solace against a wall and watch the party unfold.
“Look, I said no, okay! I don’t want to! We tried it once and it didn’t work then, okay?” Beneath the drone of the music Harry recognised Richard’s raised voice, strained in stress. He scanned the room quickly, spotting him in far corner of the room. A larger man stood over him in a predatory stance, his hand gripping Richard’s arm tight, fingers sinking deep into his bicep. As a pained look shot across Richard’s face a protective instinct shot through Harry and he was across the room before he knew it, standing between the two with his chin jutted in the air.
“Problem?” Harry asked, ignoring the slight tremble in his knees, anticipating becoming a human pretzel at any moment. He placed a hand upon the arm of the hulk. “How about you take that back over there, fella?” To his surprise the lug laughed, allowing his limb to be pushed away with little resistance.
“What? Nah, man. No problem.” He smiled wide and friendly, his teeth dotted with gaps. “You must be the dick? Henry something?” He had a large blocky head that was suitable for breaking blocks in a martial arts exhibition, a pug nose and small beady eyes. And Harry had thought he had stood out at this party.
“I haven’t heard that one before. And it’s Harry,” he replied dryly, his muscles still tense to fight. Or, more likely, ward off blows.
“Hey, Harry,” Richard said softly, his usual confidence dimmer than usual. “Glad you could make it.” He pulled Harry into a half hug, his eyes looking warily over his shoulder. “This is Bo Ronald.”
“As in...” Harry began, trying to tear his eyes away from the goon’s mouth. Least he had a good dental plan with Perry.
“Bo fucking Peep. Yeah, I heard that one too, shamus. So, must be exciting being a private detective? You see some crazy shit? Like in the movies?”
“Oh, yeah. I see crazy shits.” Bo’s eyes widened and he frowned, sensing an insult had been made but not trusting the instinct. He must have mentally weighed Harry against himself and decided nobody was that stupid.
“Well, shamus. Let me get you a drink. Any friend of Richard’s and all.” He shot the kid a look Harry couldn’t read and then turned away. “Be right back.”
“Who the hell is that dreamboat?” Harry asked as soon as Bo was out of earshot. “He looked like he was going to fucking eat you!”
“What?” Richard looked at him, dazed for a moment. “Oh, let’s just say he’s an ex that isn’t happy about the ex part.”
“You and him? You’re kidding me? You can do way better than that! He’s probably covered in bruises from all the fifty foot bargepoles shoving him away.”
“Yeah, well, I tried if you remember? You weren’t interested.”
“Richard.” Harry ran his fingers through his hair, flustered. “Do we have to go over this again? I explained... Can’t we just be friends?”
“Friends?” Bo said, appearing at their side, his hands full of drinks. “I love that show!” He passed Richard a pint of bright green liquid with a wink. “Here’s yours, Harry.”
“I’m driving. I can’t.” Harry tried to pass it back but Bo held up his palm. “Seriously...”
“It’s barely got any alcohol in, man. I’ll be offended if you don’t.” He grinned slyly. “Richard! Tell him how great my cocktail is.” Richard just shook his head sipping at his own, his eyes cast downward. Jesus, this guy had sure done a number on the kid.
Sensing an unspoken challenge in the air Harry brought the glass to his lips, the scent making his nose wrinkle in distaste. “Fuck, what’s in this?”
“Sugar and spice and all things nice. Bottoms up, if I can quote you, Richard?”
“Fine, fine.” Harry gulped the drink as the other two watched in a strange sort of fascination. Clearly wondering if the old guy could cut it. It wasn’t so bad once you got past the smell. Sort of sweet amd tangy. Finishing it before Bo, he noted childishly, he made a big show of licking his lips. “Shyeah, it’s alright.”
“Alright? Fuck that. It’s amazing. Another?”
“No!” Richard cried out causing both men to jump. “I mean, not now. I...want to show Harry something. Here, you finish this.” He shoved the drink back into Bo’s hand and linked arms with Harry, almost dragging him off his feet in his need to get away. “I’ll see you later, Bo.”
“Yeah, sure. See you around, Harry.” Bo raised the glass in salute to him, his ruined smile wide. The teal liquid twinkled under the lights and Harry couldn’t explain the shudder that travelled down his spine, merely nodded in response and let Richard lead him away.
---
Richard closed the door to his room, his back pressed up against the wood as he stared at Harry. “Take a pew.”
“Richard? You okay, man? You seem...edgy? Is it that Bo guy? The fifty foot villain?” Harry sat on the edge of the bed, his brows knitted in concern. As his hands curled into the duvet he felt a curious dizziness drift over him, the sensation of touch in his hand feeling curiously alert. He squeezed his eyes shut and gave his head a shake, the feeling passing as suddenly as it a came.
Richard didn’t notice. “No, no. I’m just...party in my house you know? Always worrying something will get broke.” Crossing the room he joined Harry on the bed, wiping his palms on his knees as he sat. “So...?”
Harry coughed nervously. “Er, you wanted to show me something?”
“Oh, yes! Hang on.” Jumping up, Richard quickly retrieved the laptop from his desk, depositing the hot notebook upon Harry’s knees. “Sorry, it’s been on awhile. Look! That’s you! And that? Next to you on that bed? That’s me.”
Harry couldn’t stop the harsh laugh that escaped his mouth on seeing himself in pixelated form. “That’s pretty cool, actually!” He turned to face Richard, his delight dropping on realising he was sitting playing video games in the kid’s room. There was something Roman Polanski like about the whole thing. “I mean...yeah, it’s alright.” The dizziness descended again and Harry felt a strange buzzing from within, pleasant and distracting.
“That’s not the best part, watch this.” Richard had positioned himself slightly behind Harry and had to lean over to reach the laptop, his fingers flying with a speed that seemed to blur. Harry found himself fascinated by them and the curious glow that seemed to be emanating from the boy’s skin as he typed. Finally coming to a stop, he grinned and sat back as the figures on the screen began to share a tight embrace. Richard laughed and placed a hand high on Harry’s thigh. “See that?” he whispered, his breath ghosting the skin of Harry’s neck, a caress of steam. “You think I’m being “flirty”!”
“No! No, I don’t! Honest! I...”
“Your Sim, idiot!” Laughing at Harry’s dumbfounded expression; Richard leaned in again, pressing his right hand to the keyboard once more, his left steadying himself on Harry’s leg. Higher than before.
“What...what are they doing now?” Although Harry could plainly see. The hand glided up.
“Making out. Since the real Harry said no. This is best I can do.” Richard’s lips brushed against Harry’s neck, feeling oddly dry, just as Harry's throat did. Harry sensed, rather than saw, Richard licking his own lips, tongue just barely kissing his flesh. His eyes riveted to the screen his body felt locked down and the glow that had surrounded Richard’s hand now seemed to touch everything in the room, making it too bright, too strange for Harry to keep his eyes open. “Now Harry’s finding Richard alluring.”
The laptop was moved gently from Harry’s lap but Harry didn’t move, not even when the bed dipped and Richard returned to his side. Even closer than before. “I feel...weird.” A thick fog descended onto his head and shoulders, his own voice sounding like it was from another room. “Really fucking weird.”
Tingling began to spread through his body, possessing every limb and every joint as it went. He started slightly as Richard’s hand came to rest against his groin, fingers massaging softly and brushing against a growing heat. “Richard, don’t...I feel...” He gasped as Richard squeezed, drawing in a heady mix of alcohol and Richard's cologne. Perry wears that, he thought.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re with me. It’s okay.” Richard repeated this mantra over and over, placing chaste kisses against the column of Harry’s throat between every word. Gently, he worked his way in front of Harry and pressed against his shoulder, urging him to lie down. “It’s okay.” Harry’s head began to spin at the smells, the sensations and increasing distant hum of Richard's voice. He was dimly aware that he was almost painfully hard now and jutting upward against the narrow bone of Richard’s hip.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand...fuck...” he murmured against Richard’s lips, his hands gripped his rear tightly and pressed their groins together with a deep groan. “What am I doing?”
“What you want for once. Listen to your body, Harry.” Richard bucked and Harry practically whimpered at the feeling.
“I can’t! Perry, he’s...I can’t!” Harry choked out, eyes wide as they stared up into Richard’s, comprehension shattered as he recognised the familiar packet in his hand. “What...what do you want?”
"All I want right now is you to fuck me," Richard replied before deftly using his teeth to open the condom wrapper.
Harry’s mind left him and his body took over.
---
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Harry yelled, banging his hand against the steering wheel in frustration.
He had woken just twenty minutes earlier to the dim light of morning, to Richard’s gentle snores and to nudity on both their parts. And he had no fucking memory of how that had occurred. Well, there were recollections but that was all. Memories of sweating, writhing and Christ, the heat... the nearly unbearable friction. It was so unlike any woman Harry had ever fucked and it was...no! He couldn’t think like that. Damnit! He slammed the wheel again, turning almost violently round the corner.
He hadn’t even bothered to wake Richard up. Just got the hell out before he made things even worse, tripping over the sprawled bodies of left over party goers as he went. What the fuck had he been thinking? He couldn’t even remember arriving at the party, let alone drinking. He’d slept with a client, fuck, he’d slept with a man. What the hell was Perry going to think? Perry. Harry groaned aloud. Well, he’d truly fucked things up now. Way to go, Lockhart. There was only one thing for it. Perry could never know.
Pulling into their driveway, Harry chanced a look in the mirror. The news wasn’t good. He looked terrible. What if Perry took one look at him and knew. Could they do that? Was “they” now actually “we”? “Jesus,” he muttered, resting his forehead against the cool surface of the steering wheel. What a fucking mess.
He started as a tapping came at the driver’s window. “Excuse me, sugar?”
“Er, hi?” he said, blinking in surprise and rolling down the window. “Hello?”
“Morning! I’m sorry to bother you, hon, but is this the Van Shrike residence?” An attractive, elegant looking woman leaned in at him with a smile. “Van Shrike, sugar?” she repeated, eyebrow raised in amusement at his blank expression.
“Oh, right! Yeah. Yeah. Perry lives here. Me too. Can I help?”
“You live with Per? Oh, hi, babe! I’m Veronica!” At Harry’s lack of recognition she frowned. “He hasn’t told you? Goddamn you, Perry!” With a disgruntled shake of her head she stuck a red tipped hand through the open car window, Harry shaking it limply. “Veronica Van Shrike. Perry’s wife.”
Chapter 6
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
Chapter 3
Chaper 4
You'll Never Die in This Town Again-Chapter 5.
It took Harry about an hour to find Richard. There was barely room to stand, let alone dance, and Harry found himself wishing that he’d stayed and helped Perry layout the case after all. He smiled to himself, Perry had actually being willing to listen to his ideas for once! This whole undercover thing had worked. It had actually gone in some way to earning a little of the guy’s respect.
He nodded at the few acquaintances he had gotten to know through Richard and winced at how old he must look to them. Still, as long as he was starting to be trusted within this group, which was all that mattered, the more it could lead to information about the Silverman’s thief. He drifted here and there, attempting to move his body in what he hoped looked like passable dance moves. The beat, however, had no interest in keeping him company and he soon gave up the chase, choosing to mooch through the crowd and collect snatches of overheard conversation instead. Soon he gave up on even that and decided to find solace against a wall and watch the party unfold.
“Look, I said no, okay! I don’t want to! We tried it once and it didn’t work then, okay?” Beneath the drone of the music Harry recognised Richard’s raised voice, strained in stress. He scanned the room quickly, spotting him in far corner of the room. A larger man stood over him in a predatory stance, his hand gripping Richard’s arm tight, fingers sinking deep into his bicep. As a pained look shot across Richard’s face a protective instinct shot through Harry and he was across the room before he knew it, standing between the two with his chin jutted in the air.
“Problem?” Harry asked, ignoring the slight tremble in his knees, anticipating becoming a human pretzel at any moment. He placed a hand upon the arm of the hulk. “How about you take that back over there, fella?” To his surprise the lug laughed, allowing his limb to be pushed away with little resistance.
“What? Nah, man. No problem.” He smiled wide and friendly, his teeth dotted with gaps. “You must be the dick? Henry something?” He had a large blocky head that was suitable for breaking blocks in a martial arts exhibition, a pug nose and small beady eyes. And Harry had thought he had stood out at this party.
“I haven’t heard that one before. And it’s Harry,” he replied dryly, his muscles still tense to fight. Or, more likely, ward off blows.
“Hey, Harry,” Richard said softly, his usual confidence dimmer than usual. “Glad you could make it.” He pulled Harry into a half hug, his eyes looking warily over his shoulder. “This is Bo Ronald.”
“As in...” Harry began, trying to tear his eyes away from the goon’s mouth. Least he had a good dental plan with Perry.
“Bo fucking Peep. Yeah, I heard that one too, shamus. So, must be exciting being a private detective? You see some crazy shit? Like in the movies?”
“Oh, yeah. I see crazy shits.” Bo’s eyes widened and he frowned, sensing an insult had been made but not trusting the instinct. He must have mentally weighed Harry against himself and decided nobody was that stupid.
“Well, shamus. Let me get you a drink. Any friend of Richard’s and all.” He shot the kid a look Harry couldn’t read and then turned away. “Be right back.”
“Who the hell is that dreamboat?” Harry asked as soon as Bo was out of earshot. “He looked like he was going to fucking eat you!”
“What?” Richard looked at him, dazed for a moment. “Oh, let’s just say he’s an ex that isn’t happy about the ex part.”
“You and him? You’re kidding me? You can do way better than that! He’s probably covered in bruises from all the fifty foot bargepoles shoving him away.”
“Yeah, well, I tried if you remember? You weren’t interested.”
“Richard.” Harry ran his fingers through his hair, flustered. “Do we have to go over this again? I explained... Can’t we just be friends?”
“Friends?” Bo said, appearing at their side, his hands full of drinks. “I love that show!” He passed Richard a pint of bright green liquid with a wink. “Here’s yours, Harry.”
“I’m driving. I can’t.” Harry tried to pass it back but Bo held up his palm. “Seriously...”
“It’s barely got any alcohol in, man. I’ll be offended if you don’t.” He grinned slyly. “Richard! Tell him how great my cocktail is.” Richard just shook his head sipping at his own, his eyes cast downward. Jesus, this guy had sure done a number on the kid.
Sensing an unspoken challenge in the air Harry brought the glass to his lips, the scent making his nose wrinkle in distaste. “Fuck, what’s in this?”
“Sugar and spice and all things nice. Bottoms up, if I can quote you, Richard?”
“Fine, fine.” Harry gulped the drink as the other two watched in a strange sort of fascination. Clearly wondering if the old guy could cut it. It wasn’t so bad once you got past the smell. Sort of sweet amd tangy. Finishing it before Bo, he noted childishly, he made a big show of licking his lips. “Shyeah, it’s alright.”
“Alright? Fuck that. It’s amazing. Another?”
“No!” Richard cried out causing both men to jump. “I mean, not now. I...want to show Harry something. Here, you finish this.” He shoved the drink back into Bo’s hand and linked arms with Harry, almost dragging him off his feet in his need to get away. “I’ll see you later, Bo.”
“Yeah, sure. See you around, Harry.” Bo raised the glass in salute to him, his ruined smile wide. The teal liquid twinkled under the lights and Harry couldn’t explain the shudder that travelled down his spine, merely nodded in response and let Richard lead him away.
---
Richard closed the door to his room, his back pressed up against the wood as he stared at Harry. “Take a pew.”
“Richard? You okay, man? You seem...edgy? Is it that Bo guy? The fifty foot villain?” Harry sat on the edge of the bed, his brows knitted in concern. As his hands curled into the duvet he felt a curious dizziness drift over him, the sensation of touch in his hand feeling curiously alert. He squeezed his eyes shut and gave his head a shake, the feeling passing as suddenly as it a came.
Richard didn’t notice. “No, no. I’m just...party in my house you know? Always worrying something will get broke.” Crossing the room he joined Harry on the bed, wiping his palms on his knees as he sat. “So...?”
Harry coughed nervously. “Er, you wanted to show me something?”
“Oh, yes! Hang on.” Jumping up, Richard quickly retrieved the laptop from his desk, depositing the hot notebook upon Harry’s knees. “Sorry, it’s been on awhile. Look! That’s you! And that? Next to you on that bed? That’s me.”
Harry couldn’t stop the harsh laugh that escaped his mouth on seeing himself in pixelated form. “That’s pretty cool, actually!” He turned to face Richard, his delight dropping on realising he was sitting playing video games in the kid’s room. There was something Roman Polanski like about the whole thing. “I mean...yeah, it’s alright.” The dizziness descended again and Harry felt a strange buzzing from within, pleasant and distracting.
“That’s not the best part, watch this.” Richard had positioned himself slightly behind Harry and had to lean over to reach the laptop, his fingers flying with a speed that seemed to blur. Harry found himself fascinated by them and the curious glow that seemed to be emanating from the boy’s skin as he typed. Finally coming to a stop, he grinned and sat back as the figures on the screen began to share a tight embrace. Richard laughed and placed a hand high on Harry’s thigh. “See that?” he whispered, his breath ghosting the skin of Harry’s neck, a caress of steam. “You think I’m being “flirty”!”
“No! No, I don’t! Honest! I...”
“Your Sim, idiot!” Laughing at Harry’s dumbfounded expression; Richard leaned in again, pressing his right hand to the keyboard once more, his left steadying himself on Harry’s leg. Higher than before.
“What...what are they doing now?” Although Harry could plainly see. The hand glided up.
“Making out. Since the real Harry said no. This is best I can do.” Richard’s lips brushed against Harry’s neck, feeling oddly dry, just as Harry's throat did. Harry sensed, rather than saw, Richard licking his own lips, tongue just barely kissing his flesh. His eyes riveted to the screen his body felt locked down and the glow that had surrounded Richard’s hand now seemed to touch everything in the room, making it too bright, too strange for Harry to keep his eyes open. “Now Harry’s finding Richard alluring.”
The laptop was moved gently from Harry’s lap but Harry didn’t move, not even when the bed dipped and Richard returned to his side. Even closer than before. “I feel...weird.” A thick fog descended onto his head and shoulders, his own voice sounding like it was from another room. “Really fucking weird.”
Tingling began to spread through his body, possessing every limb and every joint as it went. He started slightly as Richard’s hand came to rest against his groin, fingers massaging softly and brushing against a growing heat. “Richard, don’t...I feel...” He gasped as Richard squeezed, drawing in a heady mix of alcohol and Richard's cologne. Perry wears that, he thought.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re with me. It’s okay.” Richard repeated this mantra over and over, placing chaste kisses against the column of Harry’s throat between every word. Gently, he worked his way in front of Harry and pressed against his shoulder, urging him to lie down. “It’s okay.” Harry’s head began to spin at the smells, the sensations and increasing distant hum of Richard's voice. He was dimly aware that he was almost painfully hard now and jutting upward against the narrow bone of Richard’s hip.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand...fuck...” he murmured against Richard’s lips, his hands gripped his rear tightly and pressed their groins together with a deep groan. “What am I doing?”
“What you want for once. Listen to your body, Harry.” Richard bucked and Harry practically whimpered at the feeling.
“I can’t! Perry, he’s...I can’t!” Harry choked out, eyes wide as they stared up into Richard’s, comprehension shattered as he recognised the familiar packet in his hand. “What...what do you want?”
"All I want right now is you to fuck me," Richard replied before deftly using his teeth to open the condom wrapper.
Harry’s mind left him and his body took over.
---
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Harry yelled, banging his hand against the steering wheel in frustration.
He had woken just twenty minutes earlier to the dim light of morning, to Richard’s gentle snores and to nudity on both their parts. And he had no fucking memory of how that had occurred. Well, there were recollections but that was all. Memories of sweating, writhing and Christ, the heat... the nearly unbearable friction. It was so unlike any woman Harry had ever fucked and it was...no! He couldn’t think like that. Damnit! He slammed the wheel again, turning almost violently round the corner.
He hadn’t even bothered to wake Richard up. Just got the hell out before he made things even worse, tripping over the sprawled bodies of left over party goers as he went. What the fuck had he been thinking? He couldn’t even remember arriving at the party, let alone drinking. He’d slept with a client, fuck, he’d slept with a man. What the hell was Perry going to think? Perry. Harry groaned aloud. Well, he’d truly fucked things up now. Way to go, Lockhart. There was only one thing for it. Perry could never know.
Pulling into their driveway, Harry chanced a look in the mirror. The news wasn’t good. He looked terrible. What if Perry took one look at him and knew. Could they do that? Was “they” now actually “we”? “Jesus,” he muttered, resting his forehead against the cool surface of the steering wheel. What a fucking mess.
He started as a tapping came at the driver’s window. “Excuse me, sugar?”
“Er, hi?” he said, blinking in surprise and rolling down the window. “Hello?”
“Morning! I’m sorry to bother you, hon, but is this the Van Shrike residence?” An attractive, elegant looking woman leaned in at him with a smile. “Van Shrike, sugar?” she repeated, eyebrow raised in amusement at his blank expression.
“Oh, right! Yeah. Yeah. Perry lives here. Me too. Can I help?”
“You live with Per? Oh, hi, babe! I’m Veronica!” At Harry’s lack of recognition she frowned. “He hasn’t told you? Goddamn you, Perry!” With a disgruntled shake of her head she stuck a red tipped hand through the open car window, Harry shaking it limply. “Veronica Van Shrike. Perry’s wife.”
Chapter 6