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Title: Pillow Talk is Overrated
Author: Harry Lockhart, as told by [livejournal.com profile] ennui_blue_lite
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 1,503

Summary: Getting laid apparently turns Perry Von Shrike into a total sweetheart. Giving blowjobs in the shower, however, just pisses him off again. Harry is okay with this.

Author’s note (Harry): You sick fucks. You really want to read about Perry blowing me in the shower?

Author’s note (Ennui): Written for the prompt, “How 'bout the morning after Harry's first time with Perry. (Can include the act itself or not, author's choice). Perry, in his uniquely Perry way, makes sure Harry's all right. I'm thinking this might lead into a long, hot shower to soothe away some of that unavoidable soreness. If this includes Perry washing Harry's hair for him and going down on him in the hot water and steam, I would be a happy girl.”

Yeah, this isn’t quite that story. It’s not my fault! There has never been a character in the history of fiction less direct-able than Harry Lockhart. He drinks massive quantities of coffee and tells me what happened. I have no choice but to go with it.
As always, much love to my beta, [livejournal.com profile] skyblue_reverie, who is brilliant and wonderful and my favorite person. *hugs her*





When I woke up, he was already looking at me.

Yeah, try that some time. Go find someone to sleep next to, and then tell them to make sure they’re watching you as you start to wake up. You’ll get this weird, paranoid tingle in your stomach, like you’re actually on TV, and have no idea. Like that movie – yeah, you know the one I mean, I forget the title.

Sorry, got a little off track there. I’m Harry Lockhart, your narrator. Author? Should I take a step up and go with the author title, since this is written, and not spoken? Is that a step up? I mean, people are way more likely to watch a movie than read a fucking short story, right? Nobody wants to read their movie.

Okay, sorry, did it again. This time, I’m staying on track. I’m Harry Lockhart, and the guy currently staring at me is my partner and … um … guy-I-just-slept-with-for-the-first-time-but-it’s-so-much-more-than-that, Perry Von Shrike. He’s gay.

Come to think of it, maybe I am too.

“Hey,” I said. I guess that’s what gay guys say when they wake up next to each other. I’m a little new at this.

“Morning,” he said, and I could already tell that this was going to get awkward fast if I didn’t do something. So I went with my old standby.

I decided to annoy him.

“You’re staring at me,” I said, poking him in the belly, “like, I don’t know, like I’m a puppy or something.”

He quirked an eyebrow at me. Now, Perry, it just so happens, has very expressive eyebrows, and he can say a lot with them. These eyebrows, for example, were saying, “I’m confused,” and, “Oh, wait, Harry’s about to say something stupid, let’s all listen.” “A puppy?”

“Yeah, like I might do something cute at any minute, so you have to keep watching.”

This did not annoy him. If anything, he started looking at me like I was even cuter, and what the hell is that? Did one night of sex really cure him of that much cranky? In all the time I’ve known him, he always talked as if he was up to his balls in men, but I guess it was just talk. And, if that were the case, couldn’t he have at least jerked off a little more regularly for the good of mankind or something?

Whatever, I’ll take happy Perry where I can get him. He’s not…uncute when he’s affectionate.

So, then Mr. Sunshine kissed me on the forehead and asked, “Do you want to go shower?”


Perry’s shower is nice. It’s all big and spacious, and it’s got these non-slip floors, which I appreciate, since I once fell over while having sex in a shower. Luckily (I guess), the girl stayed upright, but she was not impressed. Actually, she laughed at me until she couldn’t breathe. While I was writhing in pain. I almost threw her out, except that it was her apartment, and I really needed a place to crash for the night. So I swallowed my pride. And then I went around with a bruise the shape of Nevada on my ass for three weeks.

So, anyway, Perry’s shower. Nice. Spacious. You could host an orgy in there. Except, I hoped he wasn’t planning one, because I tend to be a one person kinda guy, and besides that, you can only cram so many men into one shower before it starts to smell.

I’m thinking he wasn’t planning one, though, because the second we got in there, and he had the water going, he wrapped himself around me. I mean, he enveloped me, like I was all his, and he wasn’t going to let me go. And, okay, I’m about to get a little sappy here, so avert your eyes:

It made me feel safer than I’d ever felt in my entire life.

In case you hadn’t noticed, Perry is a big guy. I don’t mean – I mean he’s a tough guy. Tall and strong. And I’d never really known that that was my thing until now, until he was kissing me up my jaw, and I was melting, like in danger of slipping down the drain melting. And then he reached my ear and whispered, “Harry, are you okay?”

And everything screeched to a halt.

I knew it, I knew this was coming. Okay, so it’s not every day that a guy decides at thirty five that he’s suddenly fine with bending over and taking it, but as Perry loves to remind me, I am not every guy. “Perry,” I said, pulling back from his arms, which was really hard, but I needed to be clear on this point. “I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t want to, okay? I wanted to. I want you. So you don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine. I’m better than fine. I’m –”

“What? No, idiot, that’s not what I meant.” His hand slid down my back, down my ass until his finger was resting against my hole. “Are you okay?”

Oh. Oh!

“Flattering yourself?” I joked. It fell flat – Perry doesn’t really require flattery. Basically, he just needs to drop trou, and let everything speak for itself.

“I’m serious. It hurts the first time, I know. Are you okay?”

I shifted on my feet and decided to go with honesty. “I’m a little sore.”

“You want something for it?”

“What, like an aspirin?”

“No, like…something to put on it.”

I’m not sure what expression I made then, but it must have been pretty funny, because Perry fought to hold onto his default annoyed face, and failed. “What?”

“I cannot believe you just brought up Preparation H while your finger is on my asshole.”

“Well, welcome to being gay, Harry.”

“Bi,” I replied, because it was technically true. “And what do you mean ‘you know’ it can hurt the first time? You’re a top, right? I was starting to think you’d topped Zeus, the way you talk about yourself.”

“Shut up,” Perry said, and I did, because he took my cock in his hand, and oh god yes. “Just trying to take care of you a little,” he grumbled, and then he fell to his knees.

I gave Perry a blow job last night. He didn’t come, exactly, even though I went at it until my jaw was aching. Actually, midway through, he pulled me off and told me that I get a ‘B’ for enthusiasm, but that we needed to work on my technique. I told him to shove it up his ass, and then he told me he’d rather shove it up mine. And … then he did.

Anyway, my point is, I was pretty sure that this surprise shower blowjob was more of a demonstration than anything, and I figured I should probably pay attention.

“Mmmn! Hand around the base,” I muttered. “vary pressure. Wrap – oh god – wrap lips around teeth to–”

There was a “pop” sound, and then all the warm goodness was gone. I looked down, and Perry was glaring up at me like I’d started singing whale songs or something. Actually, he looked kinda cute, all baffled with his hair wet and stuck to his forehead, but that’s pretty crap consolation when someone pauses mid blowjob. “What the good fuck are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m…studying.”

“Studying.”

“I want to figure out how to get this right,” I said, like it wasn’t fucking clear in the first place. “I’m trying to learn through observation.

“Oh.” Perry considered this. I waited, patiently I might add, for him to get back to the lesson. “Okay then,” he replied, and – aah! Fuck, how does he do that? He could have a career in this.

Actually, scratch that.

“Nn! God, okay. Flutter the tongue…oh – OH, what the fuck was that? How did you do that!?”

Alright, note to self: Do not ask Perry questions during sex. It just interrupts him, and then he stops, and there is nothing good about that.

“What NOW?” he growled, and how a man can look threatening when he’s on his knees, I have no idea, but Perry definitely could.

“That thing! You rolled your tongue with my cock in your mouth, like a…Spanish ‘R’ or something! How the fuck did you do that?”

“I used to know a hairstylist named Tito,” he deadpanned.

“I can’t even do that when my mouth is empty!” I said, and yeah, I know, at this point, I was actively delaying the blowjob, but it really was the most impressive thing anyone had ever done to my cock.

“You know what – forget the cock sucking lessons. I’m sure you’ll pick it up. Just shut up and let me take care of you.”

Perry slid his lips around me again, and I closed my eyes. He was right – sometimes, it’s best to just shut up and let him take care of things. Of me.

Perry knew what he was doing.
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