Work Text:
This story is based on a Twitter thread by discodegen.
I'm truly grateful I was able to adapt this with their permission and I hope I've done it justice.
CATALYST (noun),
A person or thing that precipitates an event.
HARRY
Kim Kitsuragi has a boyfriend.
This would not be a problem, it would be a simple objective fact if you were not in love with him yourself. You’ve tried to forget about your feelings, to stuff them deep down inside, but all you feel is this sharp pang of regret that you never told him sooner. Maybe if you had, things would be a lot different.
It’s very likely he would’ve rejected you if you had confessed your feelings, but at least you would have had a concrete answer. You would have been able to process your feelings and have some closure. You know how to process feelings, right?
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Yeah, by buying filthy magazines, jacking off, and drinking three bottles of wine until you pass out. We know how to cope, baby, you’re all good.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: We’re going to jack off and drink? Oh, baby! So many sensations!
VOLITION: There are healthier ways to process negative emotions. You don’t have to keep embarrassing us like this. Might I recommend journaling? Like a sane person?
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Fuck that! Get fucked up, drink so much you physically forget everything, works every time. Ignorance is sweet, sweet bliss. Mmmm. Delicious.
VOLITION: You did drink so much you forgot once, have you conveniently forgotten that too? I have not. I remind you of it frequently, much like your other poor decisions.
DRAMA: Oh it’s horrible though isn’t it?! Your tale of woe Harrier, you’ll never be able to have Kim the way you want him, you’ll never be his! They write tragedies about people like you.
It is pretty horrible. You’re harbouring a lot of regrets at the moment, maybe if you’d stopped holding onto so much internalised homophobia--
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Yeah you’re super homosexual now right Harry? You want to suck dick, you want your dick sucked, you want to put your dick near other dicks… so much dick. You want to get dicked down baby. Dicks.
COMPOSURE: Stop saying dick. Are you 12 years old? Grow up, man. You’re very likely bisexual anyway, be an adult about it. Be cool, stop tittering whenever you think about penises.
ENCYCLOPEDIA: Bisexuality is a romantic or sexual attraction or behaviour toward both males and females or to more than one gender. It may also be defined to include romantic or sexual attraction to people regardless of their sex or gender identity.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Shut up egghead! We know what we like. I’m not tittering though I… haha… tits. Big titties. Yeah, we really like those.
COMPOSURE: God you’re a pathetic pervert aren’t you? I’m out. If you want to lose your shit whenever you think of genitalia, be my guest. You’re 46 years old this is embarrassing.
You clear your throat in a rather undignified manner. This loop in your head is going nowhere and it’s not doing anything to help the fact that Kim has invited you over for dinner tonight to meet the boyfriend in question, even though you’re hopelessly in love with your work partner and you don’t know if you’ll ever stop loving him.
How are you supposed to go into the apartment, that they share together, shake this guy’s hand, and pretend you don’t want to take Kim away from him? You’re not happy about their arrangement, because you want Kim to be with you. You want to be the one living in that apartment with Kim.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Just think of the things they do in that apartment together. I bet they’ve fucked on every single surface. Hard and heavy, the perfect way to de-stress after a particularly difficult day of work.
DRAMA: Like one of those porno movies! Oh, the debauchery ! Imagine Kim as an adult actor, he’d have quite the fanbase. Hot, middle-aged Seolite, incredible ass, he’s got that nerdy look too. Very desirable indeed, sire.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: Yeah, uh, maybe don’t imagine that when you’ve got these fucking disco pants on. It’s tight down here. Because you’re a fucking sadist, apparently.
VOLITION: Harrier. I’m serious. Be happy for Kim, he deserves this. You know he deserves this. You want him to be happy, surely? You’ve never seen him smile so much, I know you’ve noticed. Be the bigger person for once in your fucking life.
EMPATHY: Kim Kitsuragi deserves to be loved. He deserves someone to come home to, to talk about his day, to kiss, hold, and fuck as much as he wants. He deserves dinner on the table, massages on his sore muscles, he deserves laughter and comfort, he deserves everything good in this world. But you wish it was you who could give him that.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: Maybe not dinner though, coach, you’re shit at that. A big, strong burly man who knocks things over and doesn’t know how to be delicate with ingredients. Like an elephant trying to make spaghetti bolognese.
EMPATHY: Very true, you are a lousy cook but you know him better than this guy does. You know what it’s like being in the RCM, how exhausting it is, the horrible things you see. What does a mechanic know about any of that?
LOGIC: I can’t believe I have to chime in over something so obvious, but Kim loves his Kineema like it's his own child. Are you really so surprised he’s found a spark with a man who fixes cars for a living? You do the math.
VOLITION: Enough, all of you. You’ve been invited for dinner, you will go, you will be pleasant. You will meet James, you will be nice to him, and you will make Kim happy. Then, you will come back here and we will process these ridiculous emotions because you’re acting like a rabid schoolboy. Kim is off the market, it does not mean you cannot love again. Pull yourself together.
You sigh, continuing to do up the buttons on your shirt. It’s going to be a very difficult evening and it’s hard not to feel like a third wheel. Kim will expect you to crack jokes, call things “disco”, and do all the other Harrier Du Bois quirks he’s inevitably told James all about, but do you even have it in you? Truthfully, you’re not feeling particularly disco right now.
There’s no point in putting this off any longer, so you slip on your shoes and drape your green blazer over your shoulders. They’re probably so excited to spend the evening with you, neither of them have any idea you feel this way, but you couldn’t say no to Kim. How on earth would he feel if you’d basically said you didn’t want to meet his boyfriend.
EMPATHY: Despite the emotional torment, you don’t want to upset Kim. You care about what he thinks of you, even if you need to spend an evening watching him in the arms of another man. This will be torture for you, unfortunately.
AUTHORITY: Maybe you could go in there, pull rank, and tell James to get away from Kim . You’re a big guy, you’re intimidating.
LOGIC: Pull rank on who ? A mechanic? I’m sorry, that’s now how this works. You can’t use your fancy double-yefreitor title to bully him, I’m afraid. You’ll look idiotic.
HALF LIGHT: Or you could punch him . Right in his pretty face. You’ve got a good right hook, haven’t you? Show him .
VOLITION: You know what, I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.
EMPATHY: You need to get through this as best you can. It’s one evening, then you’re done. There’s no need for repeated visits, it’s not like you need to become best friends with the guy. You’ll be okay.
VOLITION: Just follow my script. Pleasantries, crack a few jokes, eat dinner, and go home. It’s not difficult, people do this all the time and that’s what we’re going to do.
Your thoughts were spinning all the way to Kim’s apartment. You were so close to just canceling, pretending you were sick, but then you’d have to deal with the guilt and the urge to drink yourself to death. What’s new ?
Kim lives on the third floor. You managed to take the stairs and not end up out of breath, which got you a round of applause from Coach Instrument up there. Sometimes you’ve still got it.
After taking a deep, necessary breath, you knocked on the door. Kim answered, and you could hear the little clicking noises of paws as he was followed. You look down at the small creature; a pug, with its bug eyes and wrinkled little face. A dog . They have a dog .
DRAMA: Oh sire. They live together, they have a dog. He’s really not for you, look at this picture-perfect portrayal of domestic bliss.
KIM KITSURAGI: “Harry! You made it. Come in, don’t mind Max. He’s very slow, and he’s deaf too, so he can’t hear you. James picked him up from a shelter before we met, but I’ve taken quite a shine to him. I never thought I’d be a dog person.”
You crouch down and affectionately pat Max’s head. He gives your hand a little lick in return. You’re not going to take your emotional pain out on a dog , you’re not that twisted. At least Max will be a good distraction if things get too awkward.
YOU: “Hey, thanks for having me. I’m sure me and Max will get on just fine, probably best he doesn’t hear me anyway right? In case I accidentally start singing again?”
Kim laughs softly at that, allowing you to step inside properly. He closes the door and leads you further into their apartment, towards a kitchen-living area. Max waddles after you both, seemingly very content.
Then you see him. The man who won Kim Kitsuragi’s heart, the man you wish you could’ve been. You can see why Kim likes him; he has these deep blue eyes, mid-length dark brown hair, neat facial hair, far neater than yours. You could probably look similar to him if you tried, had you not ruined your body and face due to substance abuse.
JAMES DUMAS: “Hey, Harrier right? I’m James, it’s really nice to meet you.”
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Fuck you.
YOU: “Harry’s fine, not many people call me Harrier. Unless I’m in trouble. Likewise, James, thanks for having me.”
You shake hands, and you offer him a small smile. You hope it was convincing enough. His hands are rough, like yours, and it’s actually starting to freak you out how similar you both are. Maybe you would’ve been Kim’s type . Rough and hairy.
JAMES DUMAS: “Well make yourself at home, Harry. I’m looking forward to learning all about Kim’s crime-solving partner, he’s told me a lot about you. You’ve got an impressive track record from what I’ve seen?”
AUTHORITY: You’re damn right. I’m a decorated Lieutenant double-yefreitor. So much better than you. Don’t you forget it.
DRAMA: Is he flattering you, sire? Or being genuine? Hard to tell.
EMPATHY: It’s just small talk, he’s trying to get to know you. You’ll just need to indulge, right?
VOLITION: Exactly. Just be normal, is it so hard?
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: YES.
YOU: “Well that’s very kind of you to say, thank you. I’ve been with the RCM for, what, two decades now? I guess I’ve done a fair amount during all those years.”
AUTHORITY: What are you doing? Stop downplaying your achievements! Make him understand how great you are!
KIM KITSURAGI: “He’s being modest, James, he’s a very good detective. I couldn’t ask for a better partner.”
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Oh yeah? Then why aren’t you madly in love with me? Coward.
You take a seat at their kitchen table while they cook for you. Watching them is agonising, they’re not even doing anything that would be considered PDA, but it’s enough to make you sad. The way they touch each other on the back if they need to move around the kitchen, the way their hands brush together when they pass each other objects, and the way they look at each other and smile.
This routine is familiar to them, you get the sense they cook together often. Presumably, unless they’re working late, they share this space most nights and make meals together. They look comfortable together, even knowing you’re here. Kim seems to really let his guard down with James.
Why couldn’t that be you? Why couldn’t you be the one who gets to wrap his arms around Kim Kitsuragi while he’s stirring sauce on the hob? Why couldn’t you bury your face in his neck and plant tender kisses there? Why couldn’t you press his body up against the kitchen counter and fuck him after a long day of work?
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: Easy tiger. We can’t be thinking about that kind of stuff, it’s already awkward.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Besides, we know why. It’s because you were so ashamed you wanted to fuck men, you let the most perfect person you’ve ever met slip from your grasp. You’re an idiot. Imagine what we could have had.
HALF LIGHT: You want to fucking punch him. You hate him.
A conversation naturally comes up between James and Kim as they chop and prepare things together, but you’re feeling more and more like a third wheel. They probably didn’t mean to make you feel excluded, you’re just being a miserable bastard.
JAMES DUMAS: “So at work today we had this really frustrating situation where a client got a V8 mixed up with a V12. Caused me a massive headache, I just wish people would research things before making assumptions you know?”
KIM KITSURAGI: “That’s quite a considerable error, V8s and V12s are nothing alike! That’s why I was so impressed by the Kineema and what she’s got under there, nothing but the best for my baby, right?”
ENCYCLOPEDIA: What the hell are they talking about?!
DRAMA: It’s worse than you thought, sire. Look at these two lovers, like something out of Romeo and Juliet, and they’re so comfortable talking about vehicles together. You could never satisfy Kim like this.
PERCEPTION (SIGHT): You only knew what a Coupris 40 was because it had it written on the front. It basically spoonfed you the model.
JAMES DUMAS: “Hey Harry, are you a petrolhead too?”
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Hey James Dumbass, why don’t you fuck off?
SHIVERS: YOU ONCE DROVE YOUR CAR INTO THE SEA. IT’S STILL THERE.
YOU: “Oh. No, not really my thing I’m afraid. Kim’s definitely the petrolhead in the office, aren’t you?”
Kim gives you a gentle smile, and you have to force one back. You’ve always admired his passion for motor carriages, aircraft, and pretty much anything that has an engine.
KIM KITSURAGI: “Yes, I’m definitely the speed freak of Precinct 41. Harry’s getting better though, he helped me change the lights on the Kineema once. It was a job well done.”
EMPATHY: Kim will never need you to help him change lights again. Not now that he has a professional mechanic in his bed.
Their bed.
---
Somehow, against all odds, you survived the evening but your body is numb. Watching the two of them was as horrible as you thought it would be, perhaps worse. The inner optimist in you wondered if you might be able to feel happy for them, it’s certainly nice to see Kim relaxed and smiling more, but the overwhelming emotion you’re experiencing is pain.
Deep down, you hoped their relationship would fail. You hoped James would be nothing more than a fling for the Lieutenant, a quick fuck, and then he’d be single again and you could finally woo him. But everything is going wrong.
Their relationship is irritatingly strong. They have a lot of the same hobbies and interests and they seem to have a great connection. They live together and they have a dog. This is the exact opposite of what you wanted.
On your way home, you went to a convenience store and got yourself a bottle of Commodore Red. You barely even thought about it, it was like autopilot. You brought it home, sat on your couch, and drank the entire thing straight from the bottle.
Then you passed out on the sofa and the voices in the depths of your consciousness tormented you until morning.
KIM
It’s midnight on a Thursday, a few weeks after Harry came over for dinner. Since then it’s been pretty non-stop at work and it’s felt like you and James have been like ships in the night, passing through, not really seeing each other.
The two of you initiated a spontaneous, passionate session after being unable to sleep, tossing and turning, and feeling horny. James on top of you, your legs spread open wide, gazing up at him while he fucks you, your hands resting on his back. He’s so gorgeous to look at; he has deep blue eyes, dark brown hair, and neat facial hair. Very much your type.
His hard cock thrusts in and out of your hole while his hand runs up and down your throbbing erection. He works your cock, his own pounding you, and you lose yourself in the beautiful mechanic you’ve fallen in love with. You enjoy being close to him like this, you like all the intimate moments you share together. Above all else, you trust him.
Your moans seem to echo around your shared apartment. Usually, you’re not that vocal in bed but James makes you feel so safe, so loved, that you’re able to let go fully. Outside of James, it’s been a while since anyone fucked you like this. You’re used to quick one-night stands and hookups in homosexual clubs, where you’d both race towards your own gratification, but when you’re in bed with your boyfriend you could last forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing down on you both.
YOU: “God, James, you’re so good to me…”
It’s been a stressful few weeks for you both, the two of you haven’t had proper sex in a little while, mostly due to work commitments and simply not being in the mood. Most of that was one-sided, you know what you’re like. You are so used to dedicating all your time to the RCM and not having much of a personal life and it’s something that’s always been a challenge, especially when it comes to having an intimate relationship with someone. So tonight, you were really making up for lost time.
JAMES DUMAS: “Mmm, well you make me so horny Lieutenant … you’re irresistible.”
He knows you enjoy it when he uses your rank in the bedroom. His lubed-up cock rhythmically moves, coaxing more and more little noises from your lips as you spill precum from the head of your cock. The hand that jerks you off smears the release all over your erection and you moan, shuddering at his touch. God, he really knows what he’s doing. You’re not the first man he’s fucked, like you, he has experience with the underground.
James kisses you and you can still taste notes of the white wine you both drank with dinner, he is intoxicating, so utterly moreish, you kiss with such tenderness and it’s a welcome change from those rough, borderline angry kisses when you’re just trying to get laid. His free hand gently grazes your face, as he pulls away and admires you. The way he looks at you makes your heart soar, he really cares about you. He thinks you’re gorgeous, too. He thinks the world of you.
You feel your boyfriend rolling his hips against you, leaning in for another kiss which you gladly accept. You can’t help the moan that vibrates against his lips, he’s delicious and if it were possible to kiss non-stop, you certainly would. As your second kiss breaks off, he brings his lips to your ear and breathes seductively.
JAMES DUMAS: “… I want to make you cum. ”
God, you really want to cum. You want your hot, affectionate boyfriend to bring you to orgasm, to make you come undone, to cry out, to shoot ribbons of white all over his hand while he fills you to the brim with his hot release. It’s been too long since you shared a moment like that. You’ve missed nights like this, hot, passionate and sweaty nights in bed together. You don’t remember the last time it was quite this heated.
James is starting to reach his peak, soft moans leaving his lips as he slides himself in and out of your ass. You love how his cock feels inside you, you love the way he’s stroking your own, the soft wet slaps growing more and more intense. He wants you to spill all over him, his skin feels slightly rough due to him working on machines all day and you find his ruggedness so fucking hot.
He’s fine-tuning you just like he does to the vehicles in his garage, he’s so good with his hands, he knows where to touch you. His thumb teases the head of your cock while he works and he smiles as you start to lose your composure beneath him, his thumb glistening with your precum. He wants to watch you squirm. You gasp sharply as his cock teases your prostate just right.
You’re almost there.
YOU: “Ohhh right there… yes … I’m going to c—!“
Suddenly, the loud ringing of the bedroom’s telephone makes you jump out of your skin, and your body is so startled it forgets it was supposed to be having an orgasm. The moment is gone, that euphoric, rising heat has dissipated and your heart is pounding in your chest. The ringing was so loud, a horrifying screech amid your mutual noises of pleasure. Talk about killing the mood.
You groan, disappointed that your orgasm was swiftly pulled away from you like that. Looking up at your boyfriend, you give him an apologetic look and hold his face. James doesn’t even try to hide his own disappointment. It was the first time you’d been intimate in weeks and it was interrupted again.
YOU: “God … I… should get that. It could be Pryce or an emergency, forgive me.”
James doesn’t say anything, but he pulls out and rolls off you so you can shuffle over and answer the phone. Your breath is still slightly shaky from the sex but you hope it’s not too obvious.
YOU: “L-Lieutenant Kitsuragi speaking.”
A familiar voice responds. It’s a deep, gravelly voice filled with emotion, filled with sorrow, and you feel nauseous all of a sudden. He’s relapsed again hasn’t he?
An uncomfortable silence fills the room as the voice continues, slurring his speech, confirming your fears. It’s Harry.
YOU: “Detective… it’s okay. You’re drunk, you’ve had another relapse. I need you to breathe. Just, try to calm down.”
JAMES DUMAS: “For fuck’s sake. Not again. ”
Your partner fails to contain his frustration, his anger. He does not move from the bed but you can tell he doesn’t really want to be around you. His cock is hard, angry looking, slick with lube, still waiting for a release you were unable to provide.
On the other end of the phone, Harrier Du Bois sobs and tells you how much of a fuck up he is, how he should take his RCM licensed firearm and put it in his mouth, just fucking end it all . You can’t leave him like this, you’re worried he’ll actually do something stupid and you’re not sure you can live without him. Your partner is unstable and reckless and yet, there’s no one else you’d rather work with.
When you put the phone down, you rise from the bed and put your glasses on, collecting clothes that you can throw on. As you dress in a hurry, James speaks. He’s hurt, you can see it in his eyes.
JAMES DUMAS: “How many times are you going to leave in the middle of the night for him? Kim… I can’t even remember the last time we had sex, hell, the last time I even got to cuddle you properly without some sort of interference. Do you have any idea how upsetting that is? Damn it, I miss you!”
YOU: “He’s my partner and it’s my duty as an officer to support him. I’m sorry. I know it’s hard. We can talk about this later, he needs me.”
JAMES DUMAS: “Yeah, well, I need you too. I’m also your partner, Kim.“
James’ words cut deep but you say nothing. You know it’s true, that you haven’t been there for him as much as you should have. Even though you didn’t hesitate in telling Harry you’d be right over, you’d much rather still be in bed with James. You’re tired and you didn’t orgasm so that pent-up frustration has gone nowhere. You’re not a fucking on-call nurse and yet, here you are.
As you’re leaving the apartment, you hear James’ desperate, frustrated moans as he aggressively jerks himself off, trying to finish what he started. By the time you’ve grabbed the keys to the Kineema, thrown on your jacket, and reached the front door, your partner cums. You hear the unmistakable grunt as he ejaculates all over his own hand. It should have been in your ass.
Once again, James was forced to masturbate on his own while you were on your way to Harrier Du Bois’ place to clean up a mess you weren’t paid to deal with. You’re not proud of the way you just left James, you probably should have reassured him a bit, but he’s angry and doesn’t want to deal with you right now. It’s best to give him some space.
You’re not sure how much longer you can keep doing this.
HARRY
It was too much for you to bear, something in you snapped and you couldn’t stop obsessing about Kim and James. It needed to end, you couldn’t handle this anymore. Their love made you sick , it was wrong, and you didn’t like it. You need to stop it.
VOLITION: You don’t need to do anything. Why are you interfering in other people’s lives? It’s been weeks since the dinner and you’re still moping about.
DRAMA: I have a suggestion, sire! A devious plan, but I think it will work.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Can’t we just get drunk? High? All of the above? Sick of this shit.
DRAMA: My plan involves one of those things.
VOLITION: No. Don’t be so fucking stupid. Enough.
DRAMA: Kim’s awfully supportive whenever you relapse Harry. Tender, even. How are your acting skills?
VOLITION: You want to FAKE a relapse? Absolutely not. Out of the question.
EMPATHY: It could work. Kim’s always been there for you during dark periods, if you relapse, you could reel him in. Then you could strengthen that emotional connection you’ve been building. It could help you get closer to each other.
VOLITION: Seriously? I expected better from you, I thought you were supposed to be emotional, and considered. That doesn’t feel very empathetic.
DRAMA: You need to make it convincing though. Cry a little, tell Kim how much it hurts, how sorry you are, tell him you’re worthless.
HALF LIGHT: TELL HIM YOU WANT TO KILL YOURSELF.
VOLITION: Lying about addiction and suicide? That’s a sure-fire way to win him over. I can’t believe this. Are you serious?
EMPATHY: It’s not always a lie. Sometimes you do want that.
AUTHORITY: Kim does everything by the book, officer. You’re his partner and superior, he always comes running when you need him. He would die for you if the RCM asked him for it. This plan is solid.
DRAMA: Pick up the phone! Make it convincing, it’s your time to shine. We’ve got plenty of traumatic memories if you need to get the tears flowing, quite the back catalogue.
Swallowing nervously, you pick up the phone and dial Kim’s number from memory. Volition has gone weirdly quiet. After a few rings, he answers, and his voice is shaky.
PERCEPTION (HEARING): You can hear his heavy breath and the rustling of the sheets. James is there, you can hear another set of lungs.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: They were fucking before you called. I imagine Kim’s quite the sight right now. Flushed red, ears burning, the sweat dripping from his body. And the noises he’d make, oh Harry… what you’d give for him to make them for you.
You don’t need any of your back catalogue to cry. The tears start falling when you realise the man you love has been having sex with someone who isn’t you . They’re consenting adult men, of course they would, but you never wanted to be exposed to it.
DRAMA: Kim’s never faked pleasure in his life, he finds it pointless. All the noises James coaxes out of his body are genuine. We know an act when we see one, don’t we?
VOLITION: Harrier, please , it’s not too late. Put the phone down. Don’t do this to him. He’s happy.
KIM KITSURAGI: “L-Lieutenant Kitsuragi speaking.”
YOU: “Kim… Kim… I fucked up I’m so, so sorry.”
VOLITION: You fucking snake Harrier Du Bois. HAVE YOU NO FUCKING SHAME?!
DRAMA: You’re still sober Harry, make it more convincing, you need to slur a bit. Be a bit more dramatic. You’re good at drama.
YOU: “I, I drank again and God I’m such a screw up I… I always do this, I always drink and, fuck, maybe I should just get my gun and…”
VOLITION: I have nothing more to say to you, you cunt. Why don’t you go out and just buy alcohol for real, you clearly want it so badly. Just drink yourself to death like you should’ve done in Martinaise. You will never get better. You’re a fucking animal. Ruin your life, drink yourself into an early grave, and put yourself down like the dog you are. SEE IF I CARE.
HALF LIGHT: YOU DO WANT TO BE THIS KIND OF ANIMAL.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Come into my arms, funky baby, we could use a little fun now couldn’t we? Let’s go get some booze when we’re done here.
KIM KITSURAGI: “Detective… it’s okay. You’re drunk, you’ve had another relapse. I need you to breathe. Just, try to calm down.”
You hear an annoyed voice in the background. It’s him.
KIM KITSURAGI: “Stay where you are, Harry. I’m on my way. Please don’t drink anymore. It’s going to be okay.”
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: No can do baby, we haven’t even started yet.
Kim hangs up the phone and you immediately rush to grab your wallet, your keys, and your shoes. Kim needs to see you drunk, you need to be drunk and you have about half an hour to get it done.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Piece of cake!
You pretty much run to the convenience store, you shove four bottles of Commodore Red into your basket and you throw the money at the cashier before rushing back to your apartment again.
Your heart is racing, you burst through your front door and unscrew the first bottle effortlessly. Immediately, you bring the bottle to your lips and you moan as the warm, inviting red liquid slides down your throat.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: Try not to give me a heart attack, okay?
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: God yes, more, yes Harry, you need this!
You’re all but chugging the Commodore Red, your tongue slides against the top of the bottle as you invite it deeper into your throat, you devour it like you need it to live. It’s so deep, and heavy, the distinct tasting notes of berries and regret.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Oh but you do need it.
It’s a new record for you, you’ve finished the whole bottle and it’s only been ten minutes. Discarding the first bottle on the counter, you grab the second and proceed with the same level of insistence, of desperation.
The wine will kick in soon, you usually start with a slight buzz, and after, say, 20 minutes you’ll start to lose your coordination properly. You’ll start to slur more, you’ll change.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: The sad, bloated, reanimated corpse of a drunk.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Hmm… more, more, more, baby… you can do it. I’m so proud of you.
The second bottle is half drank before you hear Kim knocking on your front door. You’re one and a half bottles down, you should’ve done more, but this will do. It’s enough to physically change you.
You stumble to the door and open it up. There he is; Kim Kitsuragi. The most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, even at midnight. He still looks flushed, there’s slight sweat on his brow after your phone call startled him while James’ dick was still inside him.
KIM KITSURAGI: “Harry. Are you okay?”
You sob. He steps forward and walks into your apartment, closing the door behind him. Does that mean he’s staying?
YOU: “Kim… I’m sorry… I…”
KIM KITSURAGI: “Apologies won’t do anything, Harry. The damage is done now. Please, sit down. I’ll get you some water.”
You head over to your couch and sit down. The Lieutenant brings over a glass of water, and you take it from his gloved hand. Your fingertips softly caress the leather as you do it. Kim does not sit beside you, he stands opposite you and puts his hands behind his back like he often does.
KIM KITSURAGI: “What happened here? Was there a trigger? It’s good to note down these things so we can be mindful for next time.”
Before you answer, you take a sip of water although you hope it won’t do anything and the Commodore Red will keep flowing through you, taking control of your body like a man possessed.
YOU: “I just felt really sad Kim, I don’t know… I…”
You don’t know because you don’t have a trigger. You’re a filthy fucking liar who faked a relapse just so you could be close to the man you’re in love with. Out of all the things you’ve done, this is certainly one of the lowest. But are you really sad? Yes, that part isn’t a lie.
The Commodore Red is starting to take hold now, you feel a little more lightheaded, buzzed even. You consumed a lot for the average person but your body has developed a tolerance to alcohol now, it takes a lot to get you as fucked up as you want.
This is what compels you to blurt out your truth, as you’re staring up at Kim Kitsuragi from your seated position on the couch. He is so beautiful and he probably doesn’t even know it. You’ve been captivated by him since day one and you wish you’d had the courage to tell him the truth.
YOU: “Kim. I love you.”
The Lieutenant’s eyebrow raises and his expression remains unchanged. He purses his lips for a moment before he responds.
KIM KITSURAGI: “You are drunk, Harrier.”
YOU: “Sober heart.”
ENCYCLOPEDIA: “A drunk mind speaks a sober heart” is a saying often attributed to French Enlightenment philosopher Jean-Jaques Rousseau. The idea is that when we are drunk we lose our inhibitions and allow ourselves to verbalize our true thoughts and feelings, bringing our true personality traits to light.
KIM KITSURAGI: “Stop this, this isn’t helping anything. You’re not thinking straight.”
Something inside you snaps. Does he want you to beg? You can beg, you’ve gotten really good at that. Very good at playing the pathetic, sorry cop.
YOU: “Kim… please … I, I just want one night with you. Just one. I promise I won’t tell James, I won’t tell anyone I just… I need you. You’re always on my mind, I don’t know how to stop it. I’m in love with you.”
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: One night would be enough. I could sear those memories into our brain forever, keep them close, ready for when you’re all alone in bed and need release.
The Lieutenant freezes. He does not know what to say and he looks incredibly uncomfortable. He had no idea you felt this way and finds it difficult to process this information.
AUTHORITY: You have overstepped so many boundaries here, officer. What the fuck are you thinking?
YOU: “I… I interrupted you, didn’t I? You and James? I could hear the way you were breathing, I could hear James.”
Something compels you to fall to your knees as if Kim’s a God and you’re at his altar. You look up at him with pleading eyes. Your hands move to his waist and he flinches slightly when you touch him.
YOU: “I could make it better… I could make it up to you for, you know, interrupting like that.”
ELECTROCHEMISTRY: You want to suck his cock. You want him to moan for you and cum in your mouth.
KIM
You’re standing in Harrier Du Bois’ apartment and he’s on his knees in front of you. You’re not sure how this happened, one minute you were talking about his relapse, the next, he was confessing his love to you.
You have no romantic feelings for Harry and you’re unsure how to let him down gently. He’s clearly in a fragile state of mind right now, he’s even on his knees offering you a blowjob, and you haven’t said a word for a good 5 minutes or so.
Despite the fact you don’t see Harry in that way, you are still horny. It was difficult to be interrupted like that, right before an orgasm, and your body is desperate to finally get some sort of release. Your hand hovers over the belt of your cargo pants, stroking the buckle.
You could let him do it. You’d get your release, he’d get his one night with you, then you could move on from this. It is a possible course of action.
Are you fucking insane, Kitsuragi? Are you going to abuse your emotionally vulnerable colleague just so you can cum? Pull yourself together, officer!
No, you’re not that sort of person. You don’t abuse others for the sake of your own mindless self-indulgence. You have a duty of care to Harrier Du Bois, as difficult as he can be sometimes.
YOU: “Officer, that’s enough. Stand up. This is highly inappropriate and I don’t want to be a part of this. You are drunk and I am not comfortable with this.”
Harry, defeated, stands up and sits back down on the couch again. You sit beside him and take his hand in yours. You stroke soothingly, looking at him.
YOU: “Harry. Thank you for being honest about your feelings but I am afraid they’re not reciprocated. I’m not attracted to you romantically. You are owed honesty and that’s why I’m not going to sit here and pretend you didn’t open up to me, okay?”
Tears start rolling down Harry’s face. He’s heartbroken, humiliated, and he averts your gaze. He can’t look at you. It’s understandable, no one likes being told they’re just friends.
YOU: “I know this is difficult for you. It is not easy to be rejected by someone. I am in love with James. I know you don’t want to hear this, but it’s true. I am very happy, Harry, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my four decades on this planet.”
HARRIER DU BOIS: “I… want you to be happy. But I don’t know how to live without you.”
YOU: “You’ve still got me. I am your RCM partner and I do care about you a great deal. On a platonic level, yes, I love you very much, Harrier. I could not see myself partnered with anyone else and I would still like to work with you.”
You give his hand a small squeeze and offer a smile. Harry tries to return the gesture but it’s more of a grimace. This is not easy for him.
YOU: “I will assist you in your recovery if you need me, but please stop calling my house late at night, unless it’s an emergency. It’s so hard for me to leave in the middle of the night, it’s taken a toll on my relationship and I need to grovel to James when I go home. He’s been quite hurt by this.”
HARRIER DU BOIS: “I’m sorry. I will… try to be better.”
YOU: “It’s alright. Would you like me to stay until you’ve sobered up?”
Harry nods. He leans into you and rests his head on your chest and you wrap your arms around him. The two of you have never embraced like this but it feels good to support him this way. You hold Harry in silence, softly stroking his back.
It will take a while for these wounds to heal but you will endeavour to help in any way you can. Time is a great healer, even though it doesn’t feel that way at the moment.
---
A few hours later, when Harry has properly sobered up and hydrated, you leave his apartment. You are aware your own behaviours have not been acceptable either, and you will go home to James and try to make things right.
Later on that day, you and Harry will go to the office and attempt to move on from the intensity of last night’s conversation. It hurts but you don’t want to lose the best police partner you’ve ever had.
You don’t want to lose the best romantic partner either. The sky is coloured orange as night turns into day, and you reflect on how you might want to make things up to James. Perhaps you’ll cook tonight, or run him a bath, or give him a massage. Maybe all three, he deserves that much adoration. Maybe you'll leave the phone off the hook.
But this won’t be easy. When you fight it can get intense, it’s people warring with each other, each full of emotion and hurt, each one fighting for their own rights.
You take a cigarette out of your pocket, light it, and straighten your back as you head back to your own apartment, prepared to meet with your current adversary who you also love very much. This isn’t your first battle and it won’t be your last.
Sunrise, Parabellum.