New fic - Harry/Perry Hurt Comfort
Jul. 2nd, 2008 04:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
small_henTitle: Shower
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ennui_blue_lite
Fandom: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,299
Note: I never intended for this story to see the light of day. It was originally an outlet for my hurt/comfort obsession, ensuring that the other fic I’m finishing up wouldn’t be taken over. But then…I kinda liked it. So I asked my lovely beta,skyblue_reverie what she thought. She said it was good and in character, and that I should post it. I trust her, so I will. And then she beta-ed it for me over chat. Late at night. This is one of about 1,000,000,000,000 reasons why I love her.
Warnings: hurt/comfort, discussion of sexual assault.
Water cascaded down Harry’s back, rolling over bare skin and into the shower drain. His hands were splayed against the eggshell colored walls; he whimpered desperately, and it echoed off the tile.
Perry slid a hand along Harry’s hip and thought, ‘nothing has ever been this sexy.’
His fingers drifted across the left cheek, stroking skin and hair – more hair than Perry was used to, honestly. LA men, straight and gay, were notoriously man-scaped all over. Harry, though, was comparatively, well, hairy, and Perry was surprised to find he didn’t mind. Rough and unkempt, he thought, just like Harry himself. It fit. Still - he slid a finger into the cleft of Harry’s ass, coaxing another moan - one of these days, he’d introduce Harry to a razor and find out what he looked like in a pair of sheer panty hose and three inch heels.
“Please,” Harry whimpered, tilting his face to the shower spray. “Perry, please? Are you gonna?”
“Hush,” Perry said, not harshly, but firmly enough for Harry to hear that he meant it. Boy never shut up. He mentally chided himself. Not a boy. Harry was thirty-five-years-old. Rather like a twelve-year-old in the brain department, sometimes, but –
Not a good thought, not while his fingers were slipping into Harry’s ass. Not while Harry was crying out like a wanton virgin – “Oh yes, please Perry! Please, that feels so good –
“Shhh,” Perry said, wrapping his free hand over Harry’s ever busy mouth. “Be patient.” By some miracle, Harry took the hint and kept quiet, letting Perry continue.
Harry was no virgin, not even to this. Perry wasn’t keeping track, but…maybe twenty times? It had been a very enlightening week for the both of them.
Perry reached above their heads and directed the showerhead off to the side, then re-wrapped his hand around Harry’s mouth. No doubt Harry would get vocal, as he always, always did. Twice now, Perry had gagged him with a tie to silence the ever present stream of sex narration. No ties in the shower, though. His hand would do.
Fingers slid out gently – Perry was sure Harry was feeling a bit sore right now – and he lubed his cock quickly and pressed himself inside before the water could wash the slickness away.
“Mmmhh…” Perry’s breath whooshed out of him in a rush. So tight. Harry was so tight, still so new at this, and there were so many things to show him…
It took Perry thirty seconds to realize that something was wrong. There were no moans. No whimpers. No muffled, “Yes, Perry, like that,” against his hand. Harry was quiet. “Harry?” He moved his hand to Harry’s shoulder.
Harry didn’t answer. He was still, his deltoid muscles tight as he stood with his legs open, his forehead resting against the tile wall, all nine fingers still spread above his head. “Harry, what’s wrong?” Perry tried again. “Harry! Are you hurt, did I hurt you?”
“I’m fine. Keep going.” Harry was not fine. He sounded small and far away, and suddenly, Perry was scared. Slowly, he withdrew and pulled the other man against his chest.
“Harry, you’re shaking.” Looking back on the experience, Perry still thanked the possible higher power that stopped him from acting on instinct in that moment. Because he was sure this was it – Harry’s hetero freak out. The “Sorry, Perry, I don’t think I can do this anymore, but it’s been a fun week, and I’ll call you if I ever decided to get gay-laid again,” moment. It had happened before, and Perry was about to start yelling.
The angry tirade died on the end of his tongue the second he looked down into Harry’s face. Perry had seen Harry cry a few times in the nine months they’d known each other – once after Harmony left, and couple of times after particularly gruesome cases – and he could see that Harry was fighting tears. Perry’s heart wrenched. He looked so frightened.
“Come on,” Perry said, switching off the water and pulling Harry out of the shower onto the bathmat. He grabbed a big towel and wrapped Harry in it, then grabbed another for himself while Harry dried off.
“Talk to me, Harry.” Perry led Harry to his bedroom, and laid his shivering boyfriend on the plush bed. “What’s going on?”
“No, I’m okay, really, it’s nothing.” Harry’s eyes were focused on the ceiling, his gaze far away and full of despair. “Sorry,” he added in a tight voice.
This was too much. Perry didn’t want to see Harry like this. Climbing under the sheet, he pulled Harry to him, fitting Harry’s back against his chest. “Are you freaking out?”
“No,” Harry said, and Perry could hear from his voice that Harry had lost the battle with his tears. So Perry kissed him – kissed his shoulders, kissed his hair, and the back of his neck. Soft, unassuming kisses, comfort, not sex. “I’m sorry,” Harry said again.
“It’s okay,” Perry said. “What happened?”
“It’s – I feel stupid, this is really,” sniffle, “embarrassing.” Perry felt Harry draw his legs up, tucking his knees to his stomach. “I just remembered…something from a couple years back. It’s stupid. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. It’s like I don’t even know you when you apologize.” Water dripped from Harry’s hair onto the pillow, and Perry reached up and ran his fingers through the wet strands. Two years ago. Two years ago, Harry had been caught robbing that liquor store and had gotten 10 months – oh.
Perry swallowed. He had to be sure. “Is this about your time in prison?” he asked, hoping the answer was ‘no.’ “Did someone…”
“Can we not make a big deal out of it?” Harry interrupted. “I mean, I know I kinda just did, but I was hoping that maybe we could skip the dramedy, you know?”
“Harry, I - ”
“Never mind, let’s just get this over with. Go ahead, make fun of me.”
“Make…” Perry raised an eyebrow. “Harry, what in fucking earth and sky would have you thinking that I would make fun of you for getting raped in prison?” Harry flinched. “Seriously, what does that say about how you think of me?”
“It’s not about – it’s – it’s funny, Perry. You know, little guy in prison, don’t drop the soap, ha-ha?”
“I don’t think it’s funny at all,” Perry said, and tightened his lips.
“Richie thought it was hilarious,” Harry said softly.
“Richie was an asshole.”
Harry didn’t have anything to say to that. Instead, he turned around so that his face was buried in Perry’s chest. Perry nuzzled his wet hair. “Why this time?” he asked, meaning ‘why not the other nearly two dozen times I’ve fucked you until you were glassy eyed and panting?’ “Was it the location, or…”
“The hand around my mouth, mostly,” Harry said, “I guess. One guy used to wait until I’d turned around and grab my head, like… I don’t know. Maybe it was the shower too. I’m sorry, Perry, I don’t want you to think…” Harry’s tears began again.
“Hey,” Perry said, drawing Harry even closer, though it was a challenge. He swallowed. Somehow, there had to be something to say to make this better. That was his job – he took care of Harry, because Harry obviously couldn’t take care of himself.
Not that Perry felt so confident about it at that moment. “Hey,” he said again. He sucked at comfort. “What do you need?” he whispered in Harry’s ear.
“Don’t let me go,” Harry murmured back through sobs.
“I won’t,” Perry said. “I wouldn’t.”
“Don’t leave me,” Harry added.
“I’m right here,” Perry said. “Right here, Harry.” Perry dragged his lips down Harry’s cheek, planting a soft kiss against his lips. “Not leaving.”
“Sorry,” Harry whispered.
“Shhh. Sleep,” Perry said.
Harry did.
Edit - I changed Harry's age from 37 to 35, 'cause it occured to me that he was in high school with Harmony, so he should be a little closer to her age. Something my beta actually pointed out to me, but it somehow didn't click. Plus, RDJ? Looks older than he is. I can't buy him as 35 there.
Author:
ennui_blue_liteFandom: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,299
Note: I never intended for this story to see the light of day. It was originally an outlet for my hurt/comfort obsession, ensuring that the other fic I’m finishing up wouldn’t be taken over. But then…I kinda liked it. So I asked my lovely beta,
skyblue_reverie what she thought. She said it was good and in character, and that I should post it. I trust her, so I will. And then she beta-ed it for me over chat. Late at night. This is one of about 1,000,000,000,000 reasons why I love her. Warnings: hurt/comfort, discussion of sexual assault.
Water cascaded down Harry’s back, rolling over bare skin and into the shower drain. His hands were splayed against the eggshell colored walls; he whimpered desperately, and it echoed off the tile.
Perry slid a hand along Harry’s hip and thought, ‘nothing has ever been this sexy.’
His fingers drifted across the left cheek, stroking skin and hair – more hair than Perry was used to, honestly. LA men, straight and gay, were notoriously man-scaped all over. Harry, though, was comparatively, well, hairy, and Perry was surprised to find he didn’t mind. Rough and unkempt, he thought, just like Harry himself. It fit. Still - he slid a finger into the cleft of Harry’s ass, coaxing another moan - one of these days, he’d introduce Harry to a razor and find out what he looked like in a pair of sheer panty hose and three inch heels.
“Please,” Harry whimpered, tilting his face to the shower spray. “Perry, please? Are you gonna?”
“Hush,” Perry said, not harshly, but firmly enough for Harry to hear that he meant it. Boy never shut up. He mentally chided himself. Not a boy. Harry was thirty-five-years-old. Rather like a twelve-year-old in the brain department, sometimes, but –
Not a good thought, not while his fingers were slipping into Harry’s ass. Not while Harry was crying out like a wanton virgin – “Oh yes, please Perry! Please, that feels so good –
“Shhh,” Perry said, wrapping his free hand over Harry’s ever busy mouth. “Be patient.” By some miracle, Harry took the hint and kept quiet, letting Perry continue.
Harry was no virgin, not even to this. Perry wasn’t keeping track, but…maybe twenty times? It had been a very enlightening week for the both of them.
Perry reached above their heads and directed the showerhead off to the side, then re-wrapped his hand around Harry’s mouth. No doubt Harry would get vocal, as he always, always did. Twice now, Perry had gagged him with a tie to silence the ever present stream of sex narration. No ties in the shower, though. His hand would do.
Fingers slid out gently – Perry was sure Harry was feeling a bit sore right now – and he lubed his cock quickly and pressed himself inside before the water could wash the slickness away.
“Mmmhh…” Perry’s breath whooshed out of him in a rush. So tight. Harry was so tight, still so new at this, and there were so many things to show him…
It took Perry thirty seconds to realize that something was wrong. There were no moans. No whimpers. No muffled, “Yes, Perry, like that,” against his hand. Harry was quiet. “Harry?” He moved his hand to Harry’s shoulder.
Harry didn’t answer. He was still, his deltoid muscles tight as he stood with his legs open, his forehead resting against the tile wall, all nine fingers still spread above his head. “Harry, what’s wrong?” Perry tried again. “Harry! Are you hurt, did I hurt you?”
“I’m fine. Keep going.” Harry was not fine. He sounded small and far away, and suddenly, Perry was scared. Slowly, he withdrew and pulled the other man against his chest.
“Harry, you’re shaking.” Looking back on the experience, Perry still thanked the possible higher power that stopped him from acting on instinct in that moment. Because he was sure this was it – Harry’s hetero freak out. The “Sorry, Perry, I don’t think I can do this anymore, but it’s been a fun week, and I’ll call you if I ever decided to get gay-laid again,” moment. It had happened before, and Perry was about to start yelling.
The angry tirade died on the end of his tongue the second he looked down into Harry’s face. Perry had seen Harry cry a few times in the nine months they’d known each other – once after Harmony left, and couple of times after particularly gruesome cases – and he could see that Harry was fighting tears. Perry’s heart wrenched. He looked so frightened.
“Come on,” Perry said, switching off the water and pulling Harry out of the shower onto the bathmat. He grabbed a big towel and wrapped Harry in it, then grabbed another for himself while Harry dried off.
“Talk to me, Harry.” Perry led Harry to his bedroom, and laid his shivering boyfriend on the plush bed. “What’s going on?”
“No, I’m okay, really, it’s nothing.” Harry’s eyes were focused on the ceiling, his gaze far away and full of despair. “Sorry,” he added in a tight voice.
This was too much. Perry didn’t want to see Harry like this. Climbing under the sheet, he pulled Harry to him, fitting Harry’s back against his chest. “Are you freaking out?”
“No,” Harry said, and Perry could hear from his voice that Harry had lost the battle with his tears. So Perry kissed him – kissed his shoulders, kissed his hair, and the back of his neck. Soft, unassuming kisses, comfort, not sex. “I’m sorry,” Harry said again.
“It’s okay,” Perry said. “What happened?”
“It’s – I feel stupid, this is really,” sniffle, “embarrassing.” Perry felt Harry draw his legs up, tucking his knees to his stomach. “I just remembered…something from a couple years back. It’s stupid. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. It’s like I don’t even know you when you apologize.” Water dripped from Harry’s hair onto the pillow, and Perry reached up and ran his fingers through the wet strands. Two years ago. Two years ago, Harry had been caught robbing that liquor store and had gotten 10 months – oh.
Perry swallowed. He had to be sure. “Is this about your time in prison?” he asked, hoping the answer was ‘no.’ “Did someone…”
“Can we not make a big deal out of it?” Harry interrupted. “I mean, I know I kinda just did, but I was hoping that maybe we could skip the dramedy, you know?”
“Harry, I - ”
“Never mind, let’s just get this over with. Go ahead, make fun of me.”
“Make…” Perry raised an eyebrow. “Harry, what in fucking earth and sky would have you thinking that I would make fun of you for getting raped in prison?” Harry flinched. “Seriously, what does that say about how you think of me?”
“It’s not about – it’s – it’s funny, Perry. You know, little guy in prison, don’t drop the soap, ha-ha?”
“I don’t think it’s funny at all,” Perry said, and tightened his lips.
“Richie thought it was hilarious,” Harry said softly.
“Richie was an asshole.”
Harry didn’t have anything to say to that. Instead, he turned around so that his face was buried in Perry’s chest. Perry nuzzled his wet hair. “Why this time?” he asked, meaning ‘why not the other nearly two dozen times I’ve fucked you until you were glassy eyed and panting?’ “Was it the location, or…”
“The hand around my mouth, mostly,” Harry said, “I guess. One guy used to wait until I’d turned around and grab my head, like… I don’t know. Maybe it was the shower too. I’m sorry, Perry, I don’t want you to think…” Harry’s tears began again.
“Hey,” Perry said, drawing Harry even closer, though it was a challenge. He swallowed. Somehow, there had to be something to say to make this better. That was his job – he took care of Harry, because Harry obviously couldn’t take care of himself.
Not that Perry felt so confident about it at that moment. “Hey,” he said again. He sucked at comfort. “What do you need?” he whispered in Harry’s ear.
“Don’t let me go,” Harry murmured back through sobs.
“I won’t,” Perry said. “I wouldn’t.”
“Don’t leave me,” Harry added.
“I’m right here,” Perry said. “Right here, Harry.” Perry dragged his lips down Harry’s cheek, planting a soft kiss against his lips. “Not leaving.”
“Sorry,” Harry whispered.
“Shhh. Sleep,” Perry said.
Harry did.
Edit - I changed Harry's age from 37 to 35, 'cause it occured to me that he was in high school with Harmony, so he should be a little closer to her age. Something my beta actually pointed out to me, but it somehow didn't click. Plus, RDJ? Looks older than he is. I can't buy him as 35 there.
