The Redgrave Case (3/3)
The last in a brief series. The first two are here: ( 1) and ( 2)
[Title] The Redgrave Case (3 of 3)
[Verse] Television
[Pairing] Harry/Bob
[Rating] PG-13
[Summary] Every other fandom gets some sex pollen. Shouldn't Dresden Files have its equivalent?
Waking up this time was sticky and cold - I'd managed to lose consciousness completely naked with nothing whatsoever to cover me from the usual drafts of the room - but I felt steeped in enough afterglow that I didn't really mind. I got up, stumbled a little, stretched, went to the bathroom, and was halfway through showering off before I remembered why I was covered in come in the first place.
Oh, fuck.
"Fuck, fuck..." I rubbed the heel of my hand against my forehead and tried to figure out if I was still under the influence of whatever the hell that stuff was. I felt monumentally like shit, but I had a sinking suspicion that that was all me. No magic. Just the genuine feeling of being an ass. Of jerking off about Bob, in front of Bob...
...beneath Bob...
I turned the water to cold for a few minutes before shutting it off entirely and stepping out to towel off. I was shaking again. The water had nothing to do with it - I'd possibly gone and lost my only damn friend in the world because of some ridiculous feelings I couldn't even explain. I'd kept all that tamped down until now, and suddenly some noxious powder has to come along and ruin everything?
I went back to my room and started pulling my old clothes back on, but they reeked of sex. They had no reason to smell that much, but all I could do was groan in frustration and throw them in the laundry bin and hunt for some new jeans.
Hopefully before I ran into Bob.
What was I gonna say?
"Hey Bob, nice morning, huh? Listen, about last night and the whole crush thing. That was just a... well, let's forget about it." Even in rehearsing to myself as I looked for a clean Henley, I couldn't get the words right. "Morning, Bob. I'm not gay. ... shit."
I left off with shoes and socks and just paced in front of the mirror for a few minutes. I didn't look any different... my hair was crazier than usual. I killed time trying to get it to settle down. Some sort of panic attack wouldn't help me right now, and I knew that. What I needed to do with get calm and then get everything back to normal. Maybe Bob was already writing it off as some freak thing. In our line of work, lots of crazy stuff happens all the time. One time when I was fourteen, I accidentally turned all the furniture in the room into ice. Not just ice, though, the kind that's already beginning to melt and go slushy, and if Bob hadn't gone and distracted Uncle Justin while I hunted around for a counterspell I could've been grounded for at least a....
...oh man, I really could not lose Bob.
"Harry," all of a sudden, "someone's at the door."
I jumped about a foot and then raced down the stairs, stumbling like an idiot on the last step. Of course I'd slept in, of course I was late opening shop. Some poor guy was tapping at the window pane, one eye on me and the other on the hours on the door as he double-checked. No, guy, you're not wrong, I just overslept because I ODed on magic ecstasy and jerked off in front of my ghost. My bad.
"Are you Harry Dresden?" He's shouldering his way in, as quick as he can as if somebody's on his tail. I probably look just as nervous, peering around to see if Bob's anywhere in sight. Is he not gonna talk to me, other than telling me when someone's at the door? Not like it's weird for him to stay hidden when there's company, just that paranoia tends to blow these things out of proportion...
"...and so then she just turned around and her eyes were all white like she was possessed or something, and screamed some gibberish and then fell down! And when she got up she said she'd been haunted by this demon thing for like a week now and needed this medallion thing, and..."
I didn't have time for this. "And the medallion's expensive, she says?" I interrupted. He was already nodding.
"Thousands. I was hoping you..."
"Had one for cheaper, since she's asking you to pay for half of it. Listen, she's short and brown-haired, right?"
His eyes lit up. "How'd you know?"
"Because she's been conning boyfriends since last June and a lot of 'em have come to me looking for a cheaper cure. Listen, break up with the girl and don't listen to any of her magic stuff. She told the last guy she was a werewolf."
"But she isn't a werewolf," he said cautiously.
"No. She isn't. Just a con girl."
"But I think I love her."
"Follow your heart if you want, buddy, just keep a lock on the wallet. Seeya. Good luck. No charge."
"Th-thanks!"
I shut the door after him and breathed out. Poor guy. That chick was probably looting his house right then.
"All clear," I called, not really thinking that this might prompt Bob to actually, you know, come out.
But there he was, stepping out from the hallway. He looked the same as always, but I could've sworn I'd gotten over the whole intimidated-by-the-ghost thing way back when I was a kid. "Bridget's at it again, I heard?" He sounded so calm.
"Yeah. Yeah. I'm starting to think I should give Murphy a profile or something."
He nodded. "All short brunettes in the greater Chicago area..."
I grinned. "Never know. One of the johns might've actually caught her real name."
"Are you back on speaking terms with Murphy, by the way?"
"I think so. Better to ask her, really." This was probably the best opening I was going to get. "Hey, speaking of, uh, speaking terms."
He looked at me inquisitively, the absolute picture of serenity. It was unnerving as all hell.
"I'm just, uh, glad we're still... on them," I finished.
Bob shrugged gently and paused. "I don't see why we wouldn't be," he finally said.
Really? "Really?"
This seemed to exasperate him a little. Or maybe that whole picture of serenity thing had been a bit of a sham. "If you're referring to the events that took place last night, I don't see why I should be upset, especially against you, as you seem to expect me to be. I think we both..." He seemed to lose track of the thought, and finished with another shrug.
"You aren't... I mean, it wasn't me exactly, doing all that, but it also sort of completely was, Bob."
He inclined his head. "I realize that."
"And I mean..." I leaned against the door. This wasn't getting where I need it to go. "I don't really get what happened, part of it, but I know that I sort of had to run with it if I didn't want-"
"-the migraine of the millennia-"
"-yeah, and I sort of got stuck on..."
"...one particular emotion, as is the purpose of the concoction you spilled..."
...yeah, and I. I didn't." I scrubbed my hands over my face. It woke me up a little more and was a great excuse to break eye contact. "I didn't want you to, um, find out this way. Not. Not that I ever thought to myself, 'Geez, I hope Bob doesn't find out through some freak emotion extract accident,' that wasn't exactly on my list of things to avoid, maybe it should've been considering what a weird and stupidly unpredictable life I've set up for my-"
"-you're babbling."
"...yeah, I am." I swallowed. "Anyway. Uh. Thanks for, you know, putting up with the whole... ordeal, and playing along, and saving me from my brain imploding or something, that must've been kinda-"
"Harry."
"...Bob?" He didn't look happy.
"You thought I had put on some kind of show for you?"
I swallowed. "The... the thought had crossed my mind."
There was a pause, and then he nodded and looked at the floor. "Harry," he said quietly, "you utter idiot."
He glared at me, and I just sort of stared back, and finally he just stepped forward until he was right in my face and I swore I could almost feel his breath on my face.
"I did not," he enunciated, "in any way mislead you last night. I said what I did in the interests of helping you get through your predicament, but that doesn't mean what I said was not true."
This wasn't hitting me. "So what you're saying is you're.... that you like me back. Like me."
Bob sighed. "If you want to be very primary school about it, then yes, Harry, precisely."
My heart was already speeding up. Even if my head was being a little slow processing this, the rest of me was already celebrating the news in a fit of adrenaline and nerves.
"You don't need to look so terrified, you know." He tilted his head a little, trying to catch my eye. He was smiling a little, just a little. It was that secret one again, that tiny little only-for-you one. I was falling all over again, and hard.
"I'm fine, Bob, I just." Gathering my courage, I grinned back. "I'm wondering if we could do that all again sometime."
His eyes were on the verge of twinkling, and that smile was only getting bigger. "Sans airborne magicks?" He asked innocently.
I couldn't help from laughing. "Yeah, I was thinking I could do without that, you know, next time."
He was chuckling with me. "I agree."
"And the time after that..." I continued, stepped a little closer. His eyes got bigger. "...and after that..."
"Christ, Harry. Lock the door again."
[Title] The Redgrave Case (3 of 3)
[Verse] Television
[Pairing] Harry/Bob
[Rating] PG-13
[Summary] Every other fandom gets some sex pollen. Shouldn't Dresden Files have its equivalent?
Waking up this time was sticky and cold - I'd managed to lose consciousness completely naked with nothing whatsoever to cover me from the usual drafts of the room - but I felt steeped in enough afterglow that I didn't really mind. I got up, stumbled a little, stretched, went to the bathroom, and was halfway through showering off before I remembered why I was covered in come in the first place.
Oh, fuck.
"Fuck, fuck..." I rubbed the heel of my hand against my forehead and tried to figure out if I was still under the influence of whatever the hell that stuff was. I felt monumentally like shit, but I had a sinking suspicion that that was all me. No magic. Just the genuine feeling of being an ass. Of jerking off about Bob, in front of Bob...
...beneath Bob...
I turned the water to cold for a few minutes before shutting it off entirely and stepping out to towel off. I was shaking again. The water had nothing to do with it - I'd possibly gone and lost my only damn friend in the world because of some ridiculous feelings I couldn't even explain. I'd kept all that tamped down until now, and suddenly some noxious powder has to come along and ruin everything?
I went back to my room and started pulling my old clothes back on, but they reeked of sex. They had no reason to smell that much, but all I could do was groan in frustration and throw them in the laundry bin and hunt for some new jeans.
Hopefully before I ran into Bob.
What was I gonna say?
"Hey Bob, nice morning, huh? Listen, about last night and the whole crush thing. That was just a... well, let's forget about it." Even in rehearsing to myself as I looked for a clean Henley, I couldn't get the words right. "Morning, Bob. I'm not gay. ... shit."
I left off with shoes and socks and just paced in front of the mirror for a few minutes. I didn't look any different... my hair was crazier than usual. I killed time trying to get it to settle down. Some sort of panic attack wouldn't help me right now, and I knew that. What I needed to do with get calm and then get everything back to normal. Maybe Bob was already writing it off as some freak thing. In our line of work, lots of crazy stuff happens all the time. One time when I was fourteen, I accidentally turned all the furniture in the room into ice. Not just ice, though, the kind that's already beginning to melt and go slushy, and if Bob hadn't gone and distracted Uncle Justin while I hunted around for a counterspell I could've been grounded for at least a....
...oh man, I really could not lose Bob.
"Harry," all of a sudden, "someone's at the door."
I jumped about a foot and then raced down the stairs, stumbling like an idiot on the last step. Of course I'd slept in, of course I was late opening shop. Some poor guy was tapping at the window pane, one eye on me and the other on the hours on the door as he double-checked. No, guy, you're not wrong, I just overslept because I ODed on magic ecstasy and jerked off in front of my ghost. My bad.
"Are you Harry Dresden?" He's shouldering his way in, as quick as he can as if somebody's on his tail. I probably look just as nervous, peering around to see if Bob's anywhere in sight. Is he not gonna talk to me, other than telling me when someone's at the door? Not like it's weird for him to stay hidden when there's company, just that paranoia tends to blow these things out of proportion...
"...and so then she just turned around and her eyes were all white like she was possessed or something, and screamed some gibberish and then fell down! And when she got up she said she'd been haunted by this demon thing for like a week now and needed this medallion thing, and..."
I didn't have time for this. "And the medallion's expensive, she says?" I interrupted. He was already nodding.
"Thousands. I was hoping you..."
"Had one for cheaper, since she's asking you to pay for half of it. Listen, she's short and brown-haired, right?"
His eyes lit up. "How'd you know?"
"Because she's been conning boyfriends since last June and a lot of 'em have come to me looking for a cheaper cure. Listen, break up with the girl and don't listen to any of her magic stuff. She told the last guy she was a werewolf."
"But she isn't a werewolf," he said cautiously.
"No. She isn't. Just a con girl."
"But I think I love her."
"Follow your heart if you want, buddy, just keep a lock on the wallet. Seeya. Good luck. No charge."
"Th-thanks!"
I shut the door after him and breathed out. Poor guy. That chick was probably looting his house right then.
"All clear," I called, not really thinking that this might prompt Bob to actually, you know, come out.
But there he was, stepping out from the hallway. He looked the same as always, but I could've sworn I'd gotten over the whole intimidated-by-the-ghost thing way back when I was a kid. "Bridget's at it again, I heard?" He sounded so calm.
"Yeah. Yeah. I'm starting to think I should give Murphy a profile or something."
He nodded. "All short brunettes in the greater Chicago area..."
I grinned. "Never know. One of the johns might've actually caught her real name."
"Are you back on speaking terms with Murphy, by the way?"
"I think so. Better to ask her, really." This was probably the best opening I was going to get. "Hey, speaking of, uh, speaking terms."
He looked at me inquisitively, the absolute picture of serenity. It was unnerving as all hell.
"I'm just, uh, glad we're still... on them," I finished.
Bob shrugged gently and paused. "I don't see why we wouldn't be," he finally said.
Really? "Really?"
This seemed to exasperate him a little. Or maybe that whole picture of serenity thing had been a bit of a sham. "If you're referring to the events that took place last night, I don't see why I should be upset, especially against you, as you seem to expect me to be. I think we both..." He seemed to lose track of the thought, and finished with another shrug.
"You aren't... I mean, it wasn't me exactly, doing all that, but it also sort of completely was, Bob."
He inclined his head. "I realize that."
"And I mean..." I leaned against the door. This wasn't getting where I need it to go. "I don't really get what happened, part of it, but I know that I sort of had to run with it if I didn't want-"
"-the migraine of the millennia-"
"-yeah, and I sort of got stuck on..."
"...one particular emotion, as is the purpose of the concoction you spilled..."
...yeah, and I. I didn't." I scrubbed my hands over my face. It woke me up a little more and was a great excuse to break eye contact. "I didn't want you to, um, find out this way. Not. Not that I ever thought to myself, 'Geez, I hope Bob doesn't find out through some freak emotion extract accident,' that wasn't exactly on my list of things to avoid, maybe it should've been considering what a weird and stupidly unpredictable life I've set up for my-"
"-you're babbling."
"...yeah, I am." I swallowed. "Anyway. Uh. Thanks for, you know, putting up with the whole... ordeal, and playing along, and saving me from my brain imploding or something, that must've been kinda-"
"Harry."
"...Bob?" He didn't look happy.
"You thought I had put on some kind of show for you?"
I swallowed. "The... the thought had crossed my mind."
There was a pause, and then he nodded and looked at the floor. "Harry," he said quietly, "you utter idiot."
He glared at me, and I just sort of stared back, and finally he just stepped forward until he was right in my face and I swore I could almost feel his breath on my face.
"I did not," he enunciated, "in any way mislead you last night. I said what I did in the interests of helping you get through your predicament, but that doesn't mean what I said was not true."
This wasn't hitting me. "So what you're saying is you're.... that you like me back. Like me."
Bob sighed. "If you want to be very primary school about it, then yes, Harry, precisely."
My heart was already speeding up. Even if my head was being a little slow processing this, the rest of me was already celebrating the news in a fit of adrenaline and nerves.
"You don't need to look so terrified, you know." He tilted his head a little, trying to catch my eye. He was smiling a little, just a little. It was that secret one again, that tiny little only-for-you one. I was falling all over again, and hard.
"I'm fine, Bob, I just." Gathering my courage, I grinned back. "I'm wondering if we could do that all again sometime."
His eyes were on the verge of twinkling, and that smile was only getting bigger. "Sans airborne magicks?" He asked innocently.
I couldn't help from laughing. "Yeah, I was thinking I could do without that, you know, next time."
He was chuckling with me. "I agree."
"And the time after that..." I continued, stepped a little closer. His eyes got bigger. "...and after that..."
"Christ, Harry. Lock the door again."