Fic: All's Well That Ends Well, and Perhaps Only Then [KKBB]
"So what is it, like a gay convention or something? You all get together and talk about what kind of lube feels best in your ass?"
Harry stood at the doorway of his room as Perry packed, munching on a Poptart. Perry tried to ignore the way the crumbs fell all over his shirt, sprinkled over the already-dry juice stain there. "No, idiot. For the last time, it's a business convention. I'm going there to check out all the new technology, see if there's anything worth buying."
Harry pouted as he watched Perry zip up the suitcase, most of the poptart now decorating the front of his shirt. "So why can't I come along then?"
"Because. It'd be waste of money. You'll probably start poking around in stuff you shouldn't, and then I gotta be the one to drag your sorry ass to the emergency-room because you shot yourself in the foot or something."
Packing done, Perry stood and walked over to Harry. Without a word he turned him around and marched him out of the room, standing Harry over the sink as he dusted off his shirt.
Harry just continued to munch on what little was left of the snack, used to Perry's anal-retentive habits at this point. "You sure you wanna leave me in your house alone for five days? I could like, burn the place down or something." It's what Perry always told him would happen, every time he walked into the kitchen to find Harry trying to microwave food without taking the foil wrapper off.
Perry just sighed, running the water to wash away the remaining crumbs. "Not like I've got a choice. Anyway, my plane leaves in two hours, so I should be heading out."
He continued to talk as he grabbed his luggage, heading down the stairs and calling out behind him. "The emergency numbers are on the fridge! Police, fire department, hospital, everything. I also jutted down my cell number in case you need anything, but if you're gonna be calling me at five AM because you forgot the time difference in the East Coast, it better be something goddamned important!"
Harry sighed as he leaned over the banister, rolling his eyes. "Whatever, mom. Got me the babysitter's number, too?"
"Harmony's cell's also on there, in case you lost your phone again."
"Come on! Last time I lost it was like...a month ago, at least!"
"Three weeks. Now shut up and go change, you look like you belong in a day care. Oh, and that's another thing. I left out a list of stuff you have to do around the house, including on what days. Don't forget to take out the garbage on Wednesday, put in a load of laundry ever three days, and don't let the plates sit in the sink for more than a couple of hours-"
"I got it, I got it! Sheesh. Don't you have a frisking up at the airport you're late for?"
Perry opened the front door, looking back up at Harry. "Just take care of yourself, idiot. I'll be back in a couple of days."
Whether it was his imagination or not, Harry chose to believe there was a certain fondness in Perry's tone, giving him a slight wave with his right hand. "Sure thing, Per. Just leave the house up to me, I'll take care of things. Go have fun being felt up by airport security."
______________________________
"Harry, is that crunching I hear in the background? You're not eating in my living room, are you?"
He would have replied, except he had to take a moment to swallow the handful of chips he'd stuffed if his mouth before he could answer. "No, no! That's just the T.V. in the background. I'm watching a special on chips." In truth, what flashed across the screen now were some rather gratuitous shots of cleavage, followed by the sort of explosive mess that would have made Michael Bay proud.
Harry laid stretched out on the couch, holding the cell phone to his ear with his free hand. The other was elbow deep in a giant bag full of chips, the biggest one he could find at the super market. The couch was surrounded by what was practically a blockade of DVD cases, candy bags and soda bottles, along with the occasional beer.
"A special on- Jesus Christ, Harry. You better not get any food on that rug, or I'll make you lick it clean when I get home." There was a snort on the other end of the line, followed by more crunching, which Perry knew wasn't coming from the television unless chips now exploded when eaten.
"Keep your sexual fetishes to yourself, would you? Anyway, everything's fine, I haven't had to call the Fire Department yet. How are things down in Atlanta? Shack up with some salesman yet so we can get a twenty percent discount or something?"
"Harry..." He could practically picture Perry rubbing his temples in that 'I really want to punch you but I'm trying' kind of way. "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I have sex with every man I meet."
In truth, Harry never thought Perry got so much sex because he was gay. He could picture gay guys not getting any, if he ever bothered to picture them at all. He just thought Perry got laid because he was Perry Van Shrike, and that's just what happened when he went into a new city filled with otherwise straight, previously unhomoerotic men. But he wasn't about to tell him that.
"Whatever you say, dude. Just don't forget to buy me a souvenir for my 'Cities of the World' collection."
"You don't have a 'Cities of the World' collection, you dumbass."
"No, but I will if you bring me something." Harry's tone implied that this was the most obvious thing in the world, and Perry was sure that if he could have reached through the phone, he would have hit Harry. He almost tried.
"Look, I gotta go, there's a presentation starting in two minutes. Do me a favor and take the trash out like I asked, before the garbage truck passes and we're stuck with it another three days."
"Yeah, sure, no problem. I'll take the garbage out as soon as the movie- the documentary is done. Don't worry about it!"
______________________________
When Perry returned home, he wasn't sure what to expect. He knew there was reason to be worried; this was Harry he was talking about. Not worrying was like jacking a police vehicle and expecting no one to notice. Pure, hopeful and misguided stupidity.
The only good sign so far was that he could see down the road that his house was, in fact, still standing, and hadn't become a charred remain in the time he'd gone. The first bad sign, however, was when he pulled up to the driveway and found the garbage bin overflowing with trash bags, some of them torn and with their contents spilled out around the container. He half expected there to be a trail of garbage leading up to his front door.
What he found when he unlocked the front door, however, was worse than he imagined.
The mail, which looked like it had been hastily gathered at the last minute, was thrown in a pile on the table, none of it opened or even sorted. The rug was marked with muddy footprints from the door to the kitchen, despite the offending shoes sitting just besides the doorway, the floor around them encrusted with dried mud and bits of grass. Even from here, he could see the mess his living room had become, with half of the cushions missing from the couch, the rug covered in bags of food and old wrappers. He could even see where a bottle had been knocked over, spilling its contents beneath the coffee table.
Harry was laid out on the floor behind the couch, in clothes that looked very much like what Perry had left him in, snoring softly. He looked almost innocent in his sleep. At the moment, Perry couldn't have cared less.
"Harry! What the fuck did you do to my house, you fucking dumbass?!"
That was enough to rouse Harry. He jerked up with a start, paling when he saw Perry standing in the doorway. "-Shit, shit shit shit. You weren't supposed to be home 'till Friday!"
"It is Friday, you moron! What the fuck happened to taking care of the house?! Did you burn down the kitchen while you were at it?"
Without waiting for a response Perry marched into the house, heading right in the direction of the kitchen. Harry was quick to stand, scrambling over the couch to try and stop him. "Now Perry, you shouldn't go in there. I mean, you really really shouldn't. You know how getting stressed is bad for your health-" He stopped short when Perry turned back to look at him, expression completely blank in that way that told Harry he was really pissed off.
The kitchen was, if possible, a worse mess than the living room. The sink was filled to the brim with dirty plates and utensils, all of it topped by empty fast food wrappers. What space on the counter that wasn't covered by them was stained with something that resembled food, though only in the vaguest sense. There were charred spots on the stove, and the microwave looked like a marshmallow had exploded inside of it. It most likely had.
".....Harry." Perry's voice was completely calm, which only served to make Harry back away slowly, hands raised.
"Look dude, I know you're mad, but I swear I was gonna have all this cleaned up by the time you got back. I didn't even mean for it to get this bad-" The words were stopped short by a single look.
"Harry, I am going to go to the bathroom to take a piss. In the time it takes me to do that, you're going to pack an overnight bag and go to Harmony's. If you're still here by the time I'm done washing my hands, I will personally make sure that you'll be missing more than just your ring finger by the end of the night."
"But-"
"Go. Now. Unless you want me to deduct what it's going to take to clean all this up from your next five paychecks. Because, believe me, that is what it's going to take to cover all this."
Harry didn't need to be told twice. He was up the stairs before Perry had even reached the bathroom door, throwing open his closet and stuffing the first thing he could grab into a duffel bag, practically running out the door. He didn't really think Perry would charge him for all of it. He also wasn't scared of him, not really.
Visiting Harmony and her new boyfriend just suddenly sounded that much more appealing. He could even borrow a toothbrush when he was there.