"Well that was a good use of our time," Kim remarked as they left the apartment after Harry's impromptu interview to become a part of the communist book club. The students seemed charmed by Harry's offbeat manner and bizarre answers and had accepted him as a member. Whether they also accepted Kim was unclear, and he didn't much care if they didn't.
"It's given me a lot to think about," Harry said.
As they walked by, Cindy watched and gave them a little sarcastic wave, but said nothing.
"Those two, Steban and Ulixes, did you get the impression that they're like us?"
Kim considered his response. The sensible thing to do would be to assume no ulterior motive on Harry's part and respond with something bland. But he couldn't help thinking back to their conversation a few evenings previous after meeting with the smoker on the balcony, who Harry had been openly enamoured with, and his Sunday friend.
"That was weird. I think I'm attracted to men as well as women," Harry had said on their way back to the Whirling-in-Rags, evidently falsely under the impression that he had hidden his desperation to keep the man from leaving.
"I see, detective," Kim said, doing his best to keep his voice level and impassive. "I would not recommend you go around telling everyone. I will not judge, but there are many who would."
"I was only telling you because I trust you," Harry said. He turned to Kim with a look of genuine concern on his face. "Do you think it's normal?"
"I don't think I am qualified to answer that question."
They had reached the doors of the hostel, but Harry stopped dead instead of heading inside.
"So who do you like Kim? Women, men, both, neither?"
Kim was rather proud of the quick response he had come up with to that question. "I like concentrating on the investigation."
Harry started laughing. "Of course you do."
There was an unspoken tension between the two student communists. Kim had noticed because he had grown bored of listening to their pretentious posturing. Whether it was unspoken between them or simply in front of the police, Kim didn't wish to speculate. But was that what Harry was getting at? Harry didn't know about him. But he couldn't be sure that he hadn't gotten too comfortable with Harry and accidentally said something that led him to guess. Maybe Harry just meant that they were two guys working together towards the same goals. But that would be an even more odd thing to remark upon.
"Kim?" Harry said, dragging him back to the present moment.
"Huh?" Kim said. "No."
"No? With the amount of time you took to answer, I thought you'd have more than that to say."
"I was thinking about something else."
"What?"
Kim cast around for something innocuous but suitably complex. "Wirrâl."
Suddenly Harry was grinning. "Do you want to play?"
"Now?"
"Why not? The night's still young," Harry said. It wasn't. He opened his jacket and there was a clank of bottles. "We can have a drink and figure it out. We'd better practice before our game with our new comrades."
"Don't you have some reading to do?" Kim said, tired of pointing out that they were wandering progressively further off-track from the case.
"I can read any time. I'd rather spend time with you."
Usually, Kim would be annoyed at coworkers intruding into his precious little alone time, but although he wasn't going to admit it out loud, he found himself mentally echoing Harry's sentiment. "Fine," he said with a note of perfunctory reluctance, and Harry followed him up to his room at the Whirling.
They sat down on the floor and Harry excitedly emptied out the contents of the box and started looking at them. Kim picked up the instruction booklet, and accepted the bottle of beer that Harry passed to him.
"Ah, what a shame. This is an expansion pack. We need the base game to play."
Harry started getting to his feet. "Maybe we can get one."
"No. It's too late."
Harry sat back down, looking glum. "I guess you're right."
They both sat and drank their beer in silence for a minute or two.
"We can at least decide what kind of characters we want to play."
Kim perused the booklet. "Then I'll choose a human."
"A human? You can't, that's so boring."
"It's one of the options," Kim said, tapping the booklet.
"Yeah, but don't you wanna play something more exciting, like my half welkin, half pygmy?"
"No. I am perfectly happy with being boring."
"I don't think you're boring, Kim. Do people tell you you're boring?"
"All the time."
"Then they just don't know you like I do," Harry said, tipping his bottle up to drain the last of it.
Kim took a sip of his beer. He was just past the half way point and he was already starting to feel its effects.
"Well my character won't treat yours any different just because they're a plain human, my welkin-pygmy is totally non-judgemental. Apart from towards the full welkins, maybe. Steban was right, they are bourgeoise."
Kim took another drink, trying to catch up to Harry who had opened another bottle. "You're taking this far too seriously."
"Wirrâl is serious, Kim. It's a reflection of our own society and its problems, don't you see?"
"I thought it was supposed to be something for the less athletic teenagers to fill up their free time with."
"It's for everyone, not just teenagers. It could've been a massive hit with the world if Soona and Fortress Accident had finished their radio version."
"Detective, even if they had, do you really think a radio-based fantasy game would have had mass appeal? I suspect it would have merely appealed to the same market as the board game."
"No, everyone would be playing. I'm sure of it," Harry said, leaning over and grabbing the booklet. "Now what class to pick? There's so many. Entertainer looks fun. You can play a song and inspire the rest of your party to get better at fighting." He laughed. "Isn't it funny how they call a group of characters working together a party? Makes it sound fun and exciting. Hey Kim, are we a party in the real world?"
Kim was running his gloved fingers over the label on the beer bottle. "You know what, fuck it. Sure."
Harry broke into a wide grin, and Kim found it difficult to stop himself making the same expression. Harry was having fun with this, and it was nice to see. Kim would not have guessed Harry would be interested in things like this. Harry was a lot more complex than Kim's initial impression had suggested, and in many ways he was still a mystery to him. He knew he did not need to waste his time thinking too much about his partner beyond what was required to work together, but he wanted to get to know him better and would gladly stay up all night with him if he wanted, as inadvisable as it was to get no sleep at all.
Kim was starting to feel warm. Definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol. He slipped off his gloves and put them in his pocket. Then he unzipped his jacket and tried to take it off, but found it required a higher level of coordination than he currently possessed. Harry grabbed the back of his jacket and helped him. "Thanks," Kim said, a little embarrassed.
"This isn't fair, I've drank more than you, and you're beating me in drunkenness," Harry said.
Kim kept his mouth shut instead of saying something about Harry's persistent heavy drinking giving him a higher alcohol tolerance. Surely Harry already knew. He also started to wonder if he should be concerned that Harry was trying to get drunk, considering what they had pieced together about what he had got up to before Kim had arrived in Martinaise.
Harry started looking at the booklet again. "Hmm, I dunno, brawler sounds fun too. Now I can't decide. O-oh, you can be several classes at once! Maybe I'll be a mystic as well, I wanna cast spells."
Kim found himself laughing affectionately at Harry's enthusiasm.
"How about you, Kim? What class will your human be?"
Kim took the booklet from Harry and adjusted his spectacles to glance through the options. "I'll be a knight."
"You're basically playing yourself. Don't you wanna play something different?"
"Why would I?"
"I mean, you're great and all, but this is fiction. You can be anything you want. Go wild."
"Okay fine. My character has shining blond hair and perfect vision."
"I don't think you'd suit blond hair, Kim," Harry said, and Kim's heart stopped as Harry reached over to skim the ends of his hair with a hand.
"We're talking about my character, not me," Kim said, once again practicing his act that his partner had done nothing strange.
"It's not my fault it's so hard to tell you apart." Harry shuffled closer to Kim to look at the booklet over his shoulder. "So how do you actually play this game?" Kim flipped through the pages. "Oh, so the game master tells the story, then- Who's gonna be the game master?"
"Steban," Kim said immediately. "He likes to be in charge."
"Right. Wait, don't you like to be in charge, Kim?"
"Hm. Well. In this case I will leave the job to someone more experienced."
They sat for a while, continuing to drink as they read the rules. Kim already knew he wasn't interested enough in Wirrâl to commit all of them to memory, but he did enjoy sitting with Harry and talking about it.
"Wait, you can actually die in this game?" Harry said as Kim turned over to a page headed death saving throws.
Kim started laughing. "I don't think you die in real life," he said through his laughter.
"You're drunk."
"No I'm not."
"Why am I not drunk?"
Kim raised a finger and opened his mouth to say something, then stopped himself. He picked up his partially drunk bottle of beer and gave it to Harry.
Harry took a drink. "You're such a lightweight, Kim," he said, poking Kim in the shoulder. "I'm jealous. It's kinda cute."
"Cute?" Kim wasn't sure how to feel about that. On one hand, being called cute by Harry. On the other, being called cute for being a lightweight.
"Yeah, cute."
"Stop saying that."
Kim found himself sliding backwards from the position he was sitting in. Maybe he was drunk.
Harry's arm encircled his shoulders before he could fall over completely. "I've got you," he said softly.
Kim felt a strange feeling in his chest. He found himself turning his head towards Harry and pressing his cheek into his shoulder.
"Kim, are you okay? Are you tired?"
"Mm? No. Just comfortable."
Harry tightened his arm around his shoulders and rubbed his arm. The feeling in Kim's chest intensified. He shifted slightly closer to Harry and snuggled up against him.
"Kim, you never answered my question."
"Which one?" Kim murmured.
"Do you like men or women? Neither? Both?"
Harry was just going to keep asking him personal questions until he relented. It was his style. Kim sighed. "Men."
Harry was speechless for a moment. "Am I… am I your type?"
"I find the notion of having a type insulting. All people are individuals," Kim said, hoping his face had not gone as red as it felt. "You have nothing to be concerned about, if that's why you're asking."
"Are you trying to tell me you don't like me?" Harry sounded disappointed. Upset.
Kim knew he should say something about them being partners… work partners. About professionalism or lack thereof. But the desire to obliterate that note of sadness was stronger. He found himself whispering Harry's name and lifting his head to meet his partner's lips ever so softly. Harry gasped in surprise, but quickly recovered and gently kissed him back.
Smiling, Kim pulled away to look Harry in the eye. "Oh, Kim," Harry said, putting down his beer bottle to embrace him with both arms. Kim put an arm around Harry's shoulders and placed his other hand on his chest. He felt nervous, but the alcohol made it easier to ignore that feeling.
Harry dropped his gaze. "This isn't going to change everything between us, is it?"
"It doesn't have to," said Kim, but in reality he didn't know.
Harry turned his eyes back on Kim, and Kim had the chance to really look at them up close for the first time. They were a muted green, with flecks of brown. Kim could get lost in those eyes. "Good," Harry said, "because I like how things are with us. Can we be partners, and friends, and… this as well?"
"This?" Kim said, letting his fingers creep up the back of Harry's neck and twine in his hair. "Yes."
Kim tilted his head and leaned toward Harry again, who met him half way. They kissed with more passion this time, pulling each other closer, tongues meeting. Kim wanted to make Harry forget about all of his sorrow, all of his pain. He wanted Harry to want him, he wanted him to need him.
They were so caught up in each other that they ended up falling over onto the floor. Looking at each other, they both started laughing.
Courage bolstered by the alcohol, Kim climbed on top of Harry. Harry smiled and wrapped his arms around Kim's waist. Kim's heart quickened as he felt that Harry was hard. He pressed his lips to Harry's neck, grazing his lips on his stubble, as he began to move his hips. A groan escaped Harry's lips and he moved his hands to tuck in Kim's back pockets and encourage his movement. It felt so good. The only thing that spoiled it was the growing pain in his knees as they repeatedly scraped against the thin carpet. He tried to ignore it and carry on, but it was becoming unbearable. And Harry wouldn't mind, he wouldn't get mad at him, he wouldn't want him to be in pain.
"Uh, I think we might be more comfortable if we moved to the bed," Kim said, feeling breathless.
"Okay," Harry breathed.
Kim kissed him on the lips, then slowly got to his feet, his knees protesting all the way. Harry got up and Kim reached for his hand, but he seemed preoccupied with something else.
"Wait wait. First I need another drink," Harry said, his eyes wide, his hands reaching out in a distraught way.
"First?"
"First," Harry confirmed, and looked around for his drink. He found it and downed the whole bottle in a disconcertingly short amount of time.
Kim sat down on the bed. But Harry didn't join him once he had finished his drink, instead he was stumbling around the room, picking up all the beer bottles and checking them. Apart from one which had some dregs in, which he drank, his quest was unsuccessful.
"Harry?"
"Huh, yeah?" Harry said, not looking at Kim. "I think I have some more. I'll be right back."
Kim sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe Harry did mind. No, he wasn't going to do this again. He wasn't going to blame himself and wonder what he'd done wrong. He glanced at his watch. If he was going to get some sleep before morning, he should go to bed now. Instead, he waited for Harry.
Five minutes passed. Ten. Twenty. Harry wasn't coming back, was he?
Kim sighed again. He got up and picked up his jacket from the floor, putting it on and taking out his gloves, which he put on, and a cigarette, which he put in his mouth. Leaving his room, he closed the door quietly, mindful of the lateness of the hour.
He stepped out into the cold night air, leaning on the railing of the balcony and lighting his cigarette as he looked out over the dark silhouettes of the buildings. He mentally chastised himself for allowing things to go so fast. That was a mistake. Harry had seemed to be enjoying himself too, until they stopped and he seemed to change his mind.
Kim inhaled deeply on his cigarette, then blew out a plume of smoke.
Had everything changed between them? He hoped not. Things had been going rather well until now. Despite the severity of the implications of the murder, and the impending doom from the hole in reality, Kim's general feeling was that things would turn out all right. They were just two people, and if they had to part ways it wasn't the end of the world. Or was it? What if the two of them were the only thing standing between Martinaise and complete destruction? And it might not stop at Martinaise. It might take out Revachol, perhaps even all of Insulinde.
A click of the door behind him made Kim turn around.
It was Harry. His shoulders were slumped and he ducked his head when Kim looked at him.
Harry walked over to stand beside him.
Neither of them said anything. Kim wasn't sure what to say. He was glad Harry hadn't decided to avoid him, but it wasn't as if everything was completely fine now. Kim took one last drag on what remained of his cigarette, then stubbed it out on the railing and let it fall to the ground.
"I'm sorry," Harry said at last.
"It's… fine."
"I don't know if I can explain. I can't. I'm scared. I think my brain is broken, Kim. It won't let me have anything nice."
"We can just forget all of this happened," Kim said, with forced optimism. He could pretend, but he didn't think he could really forget. If he didn't care about Harry, if he didn't feel anything for him, maybe he'd have half a chance of carrying on as if nothing had happened. But it was too late for that. He already cared.
Harry's brow creased. "No, no I don't want that," he said, his voice sounding small and vulnerable. He looked at Kim. "Is it better if we forget it?"
"That's up to you."
"You really don't mind?"
"Of course I mind, Harry! I don't involve myself in casual relationships. I like you. I care about you. I don't want to forget this, but I will if it's better for you that way."
Harry bit his lip. He looked like he was about to cry.
Kim put his arm around Harry, pulling him to his side.
"I'm scared of so many things. But I feel better when I'm with you. You make me feel like I can be brave. You make me feel like there's some hope in this world."
Kim smiled. "My world is much brighter with you in it."
"Do you really mean that?"
"Yes."
Harry turned and put his arms around Kim. Kim wrapped his arms around Harry, holding him tight. "We don't have to figure everything out tonight. We have… oh, as long as this world gives us to do that."
Eventually their shared warmth would prove ineffective against the cold, but until then they remained on the balcony of the Whirling-in-Rags, holding each other close.
