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Perry didn’t dwell on things. That’s how he liked to frame it, anyway.
Keep it moving, don’t get caught up. That was the rule. It had kept him alive this long, not just on the job, but in life. And hell, it was just a kiss. A calculated move. Necessary. It wasn’t personal.
Except Harry’s face afterward. That was personal.
Perry had expected it, of course. The little flinch. The way Harry’s hand drifted up toward his mouth like he could somehow wipe the whole thing away. A straight guy’s natural reaction, hardwired into them from birth. Perry had dealt with it his whole life. The double takes, the backpedals, the sudden distance. He’d learned how to roll with it, how to shrug it off with a cutting remark or a bored look.
But Harry… Harry’s face had gone soft for a second. His mouth parted, pupils blown wide. Not disgust, not exactly, just shock. And maybe a little bit of hesitation, like he didn’t know how he was supposed to feel.
Perry knew better than to expect anything else. He had the whole thing planned from the second the cops got close. A kiss was the easiest distraction in the world, especially in Hollywood. It worked. Game over. Job well done.
But then, after Harmony left, after Harry had convinced him he was not gay, Harry just sat there, quiet. His mouth still a little pink from the kiss. And Perry could feel it. That small, cold twist in his chest. Because no matter how much practice he had, no matter how many times he told himself it didn’t matter…
It always did.
"Don’t make it a thing," Perry muttered, brushing off his jacket. "I saved our asses. You’re welcome."
Harry didn’t say anything at first. Then, softly, "Yeah. Thanks."