Archive of Our Own ^beta

Perry knew a fair few languages.

He had English under his belt, of course. Sign language had been a personal choice. Either he communicated through his expressive personality, or he got his point across as expediently as possible to those who could understand him. For the sake of his sanity he chose the latter and dealt with the former when necessary. French and Mandarin covered some areas of international interest—just because he didn't favor speaking didn't mean he couldn't read or write in them, and that came in handy when OWCA sent him chasing after some high profile criminal.

Perry had never found it particularly hard to pick these things up. As some would say—he had a rather gifted tongue. His aunt and uncle felt It was just the Fletcher thing to do, and with so many relatives spanned across the wide, wide world, he was inclined to believe them. After all, if he was going to become a spy, he might as well rely on his cleverness a little more than luck of the draw.

So when it came to learning and interpretation, few things were new to him in the process. But then there was Heinz.

Doofenshmirtz liked to think of him as an enigma; an indomitable, tempestuous force of nature. And he supposed that was true. In the heat of battle, when the two of them were locked in their bids to defend the good and evil of the world, Perry had never once pulled his punches. It was something he had always appreciated about Heinz—he could take it all, keep on coming, and throw it back tenfold if he so chose. And he did, because he liked it, and he knew Perry loved it too.

Personally, however, Perry had always felt that between the two of them Heinz was more the conundrum. He always kept him guessing. It didn't matter how; there were backstories he had not yet heard before, facets of his emotions as yet unexplored, places he wanted to touch, things he wanted to learn. Every time he thought he'd translated Heinz Doofenshmirtz, he was always proved wrong.

Not that he was complainingF.

If anything, it only made their thirst for each other more apparent. A part of him had worried that given Heinz's choice to abandon his evil pursuits, they would lose too big a core in their relationship to repair. But he should have realized they had stepped far beyond that a long time ago. Nothing changed. They still bickered, they still grappled, and oh but their animosity translated so beautifully into bed. There was no couple in the world who could make the phrase fuck like animals any more literal.

A lopsided grin curled his lips for a moment, then vanished. He could afford to get distracted in the middle of one of Monogram's little rants, but a mission briefing would come into play eventually. He turned his attention back to the screen.

"—So we're going to need you to team up with Agent A on this one, considering it's such a big event that needs to be covered. Don't worry, we've provided all the expenses and made sure you'll be suitably attired. Can't exactly attend a high profile wedding in those rags, since it's going to be televised."

Perry's brow furrowed as he glanced down at his clothing. A chirr parted his lips.

"Oh, and you might want to tell Doofenshmirtz that you'll be posing as a couple tonight."

A growl formed at the back of his throat. He suppressed it and cast the Major a diffident stare.

"Come on, Agent P. Can you really see Doofenshmirtz attending Stephen Stately's wedding to Peyton Picturesque? I mean, they're so stately, and… picturesque. Let's face it: Doof… isn't."

His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed. Oh, he understood the message fine. He just didn't like it. What was more, hadn't he made it perfectly clear that he preferred working alone?

"In fact, he's—I mean, he's probably the complete opposite of stately and picturesque. Honestly, even though he doesn't slouch anymore, his cheeks sink in like this and—"

"Um, sir?"

Carl was right to interrupt, because if looks could kill, Monogram would probably have died five times over.

"Oh, uh, yes. Right." He rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed. Perry thought he could feel a vein twitching in his temple. "Look, I… know you'd prefer to take him along with you, but we need people we can count on out there, and Agent A is one of our best. You only have to stay as long as the reception, and then you can go home. We just need you two to make sure that nobody steals the gigantic diamond he's going to be giving her as a wedding ring."

Still frowning, Perry gave Monogram a tight salute and forced himself not to cut the connection before he could finish his customary 'Good luck, Agent P.'

When Perry landed on DEI's balcony, the telltale quaking under his oxfords clued him in to Doofenshmirtz's whereabouts. He had an endearing tendency to listen to industrial metal while he worked on his inventions—some leftover indulgence for the 'evil' side of him, perhaps, or maybe Heinz simply enjoyed marrying his love of music to his love of machinery. Perry hadn't been partial to it at first. The clang of the drums and jarring bass had rattled his teeth; not to mention the deep, growling voices that used to set him on edge. But the more time he spent watching Heinz work, the more he'd appreciated the rhythm of it all, and enjoy the way that his nemesis seemed to lose himself to the beat. When Perry watched, it was as if the entirely of Heinz's abode worked to bring his creations to life.

(Alright, and maybe his toe tapped to the occasional song or five.)

The lyrics flew over his head. All Perry could focus on when he swept in from the balcony was the outline of Heinz in his lab coat, his head bobbing along with the music as one knee jiggled up and down. One corner of his lip quirked up, an affectionate smile saved for these fleeting moments.

Granted, it disappeared as soon as two claw-like traps came at him from either side of the room. Perry vaulted over them to land beside his nemesis so that he could smack the back of his head.

"Ow! Oh come on, Perry the Platypus, they're harmless. I'm just developing some tools to keep in the classroom in case something… eh, you know. I even put padding in them." Heinz rubbed the back of his head in annoyance, but Perry didn't miss the wicked gleam in his eye. He huffed, gently tugging a fistful of brown hair backward.

"Don't look at me like that. It's only illegal if they're still human students," Doofenshmirtz pointed out, having read the expression on his face. Perry shook his head, settling the dress bag on the edge of the worktable where it wouldn't disturb him. "What's that?"

As Heinz stepped to his side, nimble fingers pulled at the zipper, and he surveyed the revealed suit. Even Perry had to admit that it was eye-catching. The lightest touch denoted a well made breathable fabric, and the deep set ultramarine tone would complement his hair. He'd have to break out his best shoes for this one, he thought, but that would hardly be an issue. Next to him, his partner whistled low.

"What, are you getting an award or something? This thing looks like it cost a million bucks." Doofenshmirtz reached out, then thought better of it when he took note of his oil-stained hands. He turned instead, reaching to shut down the music that was still blaring through his speakers. Perry, on the other hand, lifted one of the sleeves and frowned. "No, no, wait, let me guess: you're going on a late night talk show and you need to look your best because you're representing OWCA. God knows where they got the money for this little baby, but—"

"It's for a mission," Perry corrected, before his nemesis' theories could grow out of hand.

"What? This can't be for a mission—can you imagine the dry cleaning bill on this thing?"

He could, actually. So he swiped Doofenshmirtz's hand away moments before he succeeded in reaching for it again.

"Aren't you home a little early? Professor?" Perry prompted, hoping to distract him from the irreconcilably expensive suit.

"I… maaay have been sent home…" Heinz hedged.

Perry raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, every science teacher makes mistakes, okay? How was I supposed to know that melting some pocket change at superheated temperatures to show off the properties of liquid metal counted as money laundering?" I mean honestly, there's nothing to investigate, but they sent me home early so I couldn't 'interfere with the process', whatever that means—"

Perry's expression flattened. True to form, however, Heinz was still talking, so he tuned in with one ear while he sorted out the features of the suit.

"—So I decided I would use my spare time to work on this modified Copy-and-Paste-non-Inator. You'll—notice the non in there for emphasis, because it's clearly not an inator, but I thought it would be a good idea to show the kids the pros and cons of cloning, just in case they ever get the bad idea to try it without any supervision."

"Yeah, 'cause it worked out so well for you di'nnit?"

"Okay, anything that has to do with thwarting? Yeah. Doesn't count." Perry sucked in a breath. Doofenshmirtz, who knew to interpret the sound as a laugh, faced him with hands on his hips. "I'll have you know I worked out all the bugs in this model, so I shouldn't get any… any toner problems, or whatever happened last time. Y'know, hopefully. I even bought the ink cartridges this time."

"Right humanitarian of ya," Perry rejoined, bearing a caustic tone. He prised the suit off the hanger to inspect the included accessories. There were instructions in the breast pocket for various gadgets retained within the outfit, and he suspected Carl would have gone over them in person if Monogram hadn't been inspired to cut the line so early.

"'Tie pin dagger?'" Heinz read over his shoulder. "Sounds dangerous. How exactly are you going to be using this suit?"

His options lay before him. He could be truthful with Heinz and deal with the repercussions before he had to leave. He could also lie, and let the unspoken fester between them. A frown creased his features. Quite frankly, he'd had enough of the latter, and… at this point, did it really matter? Did it truly matter, given who Heinz was, and what secrets he kept on his behalf? He turned, brushing the tips of his fingers against a narrow cheek.

He remembered the disaster that was the Dr. Feelbetter show, and decided Heinz was worth toeing the line.

"You're kidding me, right? I mean how is this any better than what happened with Peter the Panda? No, you know what? It's worse!"

"Heinz—"

"—You're just… blindly assuming that I'm going to be okaaay with you going on a date to a wedding with some other agent who I don't even know—"

Into the palms of his hands, Perry let out a hard breath. Not for the first time, he wondered whether it was best that he now willingly spoke to Doofenshmirtz, or whether it would have been better to keep his silence. Words only seemed to be complicating the matter, and what was the point of them when he couldn't even get a thought in edgewise?

He lifted his head, watching his nemesis pace back and forth across his living room floor. Heinz displayed his ocelot upbringing to a chilling degree. He could almost see his hairs standing on end, every muscle coiled to pounce as he wrung his hands behind his back. The thunderous expression on his face was well-warranted, however. He'd feel the same way if the tables were turned.

"It wasn't my choice," Perry placated, pushing a hand through his hair. There was only so much that he could say, and with Doofenshmirtz riled up like this, he doubted that any of it would get through. "The partnership was assigned. And as far as I'm concerned, it isn't a date. It's a mission, Heinz. You've seen me go on missions with other agents before. This one's no different."

"You don't have to call it a date," Doofenshmirtz argued, his voice strained. "You don't have to call it one for it to be one. Suits and ties? Moonlit dinners? Dancing? How much more textbook can you get? Honestly! I mean my own brother is going to be there to witness it; it's going to be televised, for Gott's sake."

"Yeah," he murmured, giving him a pointed look. "All the more reason not to worry about it. Nothin' more than an assignment, love. That's all there is to it."

"And since when have you started working with other people, anyway? What happened to your Lone Wolf act?" With arms in the air, Heinz rounded on his heel again. Perry's mouth opened, then closed.

"I don't like what you're implyin'," he muttered, tugging his hat down over his eyes. "And this isn't the way I wanted t'spend the next few hours."

"Really? Okay then, Perry the Platypus, tell me: how exactly did you want to spend the next few hours, huh? Did you think I was gonna take this sitting down? Hmm? We'd have lunch and then you'd… go off with some other agent and just leave me here?"

Perry bit down on his tongue, his features turning blank.

"Just go," Heinz bit out, turning away from him. In his voice, Perry could hear the guttural merger between an angry animal and the sharp, unforgiving inflection of German language. "You… you arschgesicht. Just get out and go on your mission."

Silence. A step backward. Then, Agent P spun on his heel to grab his outfit and leave.

Agent A gathered stares no matter where she walked.

He should have expected that, given Monogram's odd fixation on Heinz's appearance. Swathed in a glimmering midnight ensemble, The Albatross seemed as if she flew across the floor, all grace and poise wrapped in an aura of fervid temerity. As he strode alongside her—close, his hand hidden between two fabrics but never quite touching hers—Perry wondered if OWCA had foreseen this little snag.

It didn't matter, surely. Any agent worth their salt knew how to use stealth to their advantage.

"You don't talk much, do you?" The husk of her voice caught his ear. He cocked his head at her and stood aside so that she could find her place before the ceremony started. Perry thought of sea breeze as she laughed; a little bit of grit mixed with a sigh on the wind. "I appreciate that, Agent P. There aren't many in the world who are comfortable with silence."

His lip twitched as he tipped his hat over his eyes. Silence was less important to him than most would think.

He suspected they'd put on a show for the sake of the cameras hovering near the back of the crowd, but an hour later the ring bearer finally trotted down the aisle. Both he and Agent A were patient enough to wait, though the crowd grew restless. All the more reason for them to keep an eye on the enormous diamond ring on the child's little embroidered pillow.

"Well," Agent A hummed. "I can certainly see what all the fuss is about."

Perry sucked on the inside of his cheek and nudged her with a discreet elbow to the side. Off in the corner, shrouded in shadows, he could just make out three hazy outlines.

"Should we bait them out?" A minute shift. He respected the fact that she had a ready battle stance, but shook his head. Doing so in the middle of the wedding would gather more attention than they could readily afford. Unless they made a move first, it would be best to wait until the reception. If they were any sort of decent criminals, then most likely they'd feel the same.

"You don't mind if I cut in with her, do you?"

With Agent A scanning the perimeter, Perry was left to mingle midst the crowd. He didn't mind; a mob better served to conceal him while he looked after the newlyweds, but it also meant that Roger Doofenshmirtz could sidle straight up to him before he had the chance to walk away. Glancing over his shoulder, he raised a brow in query.

"Miss Miss over there," Roger gestured toward Agent A, who was skirting the edge of the dance floor. "She was on your arm tonight, wasn't she? But I haven't seen you two dance all evening. I figured why not ask, before the night ends?"

From his lips escaped a sigh. He didn't exactly have time to wine and dine his partner; nor did he want to. But what the hell. It would be fun, Perry decided, if he got to see Roger get knocked down a peg. A wave of his arm indicated his assent. To his annoyance, however, he stayed glued to his side.

"You know, you look very familiar to me."

In silence, Perry waited.

"Ah," Roger grinned, and clapped him on the back. "Now I've got it. You're my brother's caddy, aren't you?"

It was easy to put on an encouraging smile and nod while the mayor laughed. Sure, why not?

"I hope you won't take offense to this, old boy, but how on Earth did you manage to find someone like that? She's quite something. Have you been together long?"

For a moment, he just stared at Roger. Didn't he know? Hadn't they told him? His lashes fluttered. His gaze skimmed from him to the cameras surrounding the venue, out and around the people who surrounded them, and even askance to the newlyweds in the middle of the floor.

But of course, Perry realized. Of course he didn't know—Roger didn't even know him by face, let alone name. Of course they hadn't bothered to tell him, or really any part of Heinz's family. As a matter of fact, had they bothered to tell anyone besides the Flynn-Fletchers at all?

No. No they hadn't.

Through his teeth, a rush of air escaped. Monogram and Carl had made an assumption, but he hadn't directly told them anything. Roger, the Doofenshmirtz family, this entire assemblage of absolute strangers, would all assume that he would come here with his date, a beautiful woman; not his obnoxious bumbling fool of a nemesis. They would assume, as OWCA had intended, that he would come with her, go home with her, kiss her, touch her, that the two of them meant something to each other, all the more oblivious to them because she was Heinz's near-direct antithesis. Their partnership was the disguise. The outfits were just icing on the cake.

His heart clenched.

Perry looked to the cameras again, wondering if Heinz was watching. If he could see his brother and his nemesis standing together. If he could, what expression would be on his face? Would he be crying? Swearing? Both? Or worse—would he simply sit there, resigned, and chip his problems away with a hammer and screwdriver?

Swallowing, Perry shook his head. Stupid. He'd been stupid, focused too much on the mission to see what Heinz had been saying all along. Did Agent A have someone waiting at home? Someone not as suave, perhaps, not as keen or as elegant as the pair of them appeared to be? Roger watched him as he shook his head again, and gave him a companionable pat on the back.

"Ah, well. Just don't let her in on that. You're going to have to remember eventually though." Russet eyes slid over to meet the mayor's gaze. He'd bent some, to whisper the last like they were in some sort of conspiracy together. It bothered him. "Now, if you'll excuse me—"

A scream cut through the music. Perry pushed past Roger, and forced the image of a heartbroken Heinz Doofenshmirtz out of his mind.

"So…"

Perry, kneeling before Agent A to tend her bleeding arm, shut his eyes. Here it came.

"Is it true? You and, y'know."

He glanced up at her. If he had his way, no one would hesitate to use Heinz's name. She seemed quick enough on the uptake.

"You and Doofenshmirtz," she amended, while he bandaged from her wrist upward. "Is that… is that a thing?"

Normally, he hated this question. A prod into his personal life meant that whoever was asking took too much of an interest in that life. And too much interest in the enigma behind Agent P meant that they weren't focusing on the assignment at hand. But the mission had been handled in predictable fashion, with three men in handcuffs and a winded but be-ringed bride safe at her husband's side. He and Agent A had disappeared to mend their wounds, but he was feeling more introspective than usual and would have preferred to simply head home. That was why he'd volunteered to wrap hers first.

Which was all to say: though he hated the question, he still offered a curt nod. It was time to stop hiding this part of his life, to stop treating his relationship with Heinz as a secret. It wasn't, and Heinz deserved to be treated with the same pride and conviction he gave everything else.

Damn the consequences. If anyone decided they wanted to exploit them, they'd have to take him down first.

"Wow," she mused. "I guess they're gonna have to break open that bank account, huh?"

He shrugged and stood to tie off the rest of the bandage. Personally, Perry rather thought those proceeds should go to OWCA's ever-dwindling budget.

"Thanks." Flexing her fingers, Agent A inspected the gash on Perry's shoulder, but he waved her away. "You sure?"

A tip of his head. He had a man to get home to.

"I get it," she grinned. "There's someone waiting for me too. Just make sure it doesn't get infected. Wouldn't want you to lose that arm."

His breath caught. She quirked a brow at him as he turned to swipe a piece of cake from the table, unable to interpret his laugh.

Doofenshmirtz Evil, Inc. was dark when he arrived. In all, he was glad he knew his way around—picking his way past pieces of machinery was easy in the dark, and as he made his way toward the sounds echoing through the adjacent apartment (applause from the television speakers; so he had been listening) he was even able to snag a fork from the kitchen.

"She was pretty." Perry bit his lip; he didn't need to hear much to know that Heinz had been crying.

"Dunno what you're on about," he murmured, and sat down beside Doofenshmirtz to offer him the plate he'd carried all the way home. "But I did bring you cake."

"Suuure you don't." The bitterness in Heinz's voice hadn't yet dissipated, but Perry was pleased to note the interest in his expression as he glanced over. He wiggled the plate in offering, breathing a light sigh as it was taken. "Ugh. Wedding cake; it always tastes the same. I guess it doesn't matter that the people getting married were, you know, famous or anything, I mean couldn't they afford a better bakery?"

Perry's lip quirked, although he remained quiet. Heinz made the best cake—no one would be able to convince him otherwise. This paltry excuse for a pastry never stood a chance.

Though Doofenshmirtz ate in silence, Perry took solace in the fact that he hadn't yet been dismissed. He waited and watched the party on-screen dwindle, accompanied by overlaid commentary. How much had Heinz seen? How long had he been sitting here, miserable, while Perry had been too preoccupied to give him a second thought?

"Look, I… uh…" The plate was cleared of icing et al before Heinz set it down. Perry watched the fork slide further onto the plate, unwilling to meet his nemesis' gaze. "Earlier, that… I mean I shouldn't have… reacted, like—eh…"

He shook his head, feeling a little like the carpet had been tugged out from under his feet.

"No, I mean it, Perry the Platypus," Doofenshmirtz insisted, turning to him. "I do. I… I shouldn't have said that about you. It was bad. It was… really… heilige scheiße, what is that? Why didn't you tell me you were bleeding?"

"I…" Perry blinked, and looked down. "—had other things on my mind."

"'Other things'? Are you serious? You look like someone tried to cut you open! Ugh. Stay here. I'll get the med kit. And take your shirt off."

"It's just a scratch, Heinz."

"I said take it off."

Holding his arms up in surrender, he peeled the layers away and ignored the dull ache accompanying his flesh wound. Perry had had worse and they both knew it; for it had been Doofenshmirtz who would have administered the blows in the first place. They simply had a habit of taking care of each other. Perry could appreciate that, even if it meant that he had to sit bare-chested in the drafty living room. Somewhere past the bathroom door, he could hear Heinz muttering about 'stubborn secret agents' and a number of colorful German expletives that he decided he didn't want to explore.

"—Honestly can't believe you sat here, watching me eat cake, while you were bleeding all over this million dollar suit. I mean that's… that's Norm level, Perry the Platypus, and that's saying something." Before him his nemesis sat, taking a wide piece of gauze and pushing him back so that he could dab at the wound with antiseptic. Perry didn't even flinch. Heinz bore a gentle touch, almost timid; like he was hoping he wouldn't break something if he pressed too hard. He found it all the more endearing, since Doofenshmirtz was evidently still angry.

"I am still angry," Doofenshmirtz grumbled, as if reading his mind. From the beginning, Perry thought. It had been like this from the beginning—an intrinsic understanding of each other that had never required words, which he'd treasured after having to accommodate every other person in his life. He remembered that… and also remembered the frustration on Heinz's face, the innumerable times he'd complained that the burden of conversation fell on him, the way his face had contorted when he'd confessed that Peter had been 'more open'. He remembered all of it, and breathed a deep sigh in the pregnant silence that followed. Sometimes it wasn't about the silence, or about how much they knew each other. Sometimes, it was about him giving more than he got.

"I know," he replied, gaze softening. "You've got a right t'be."

Heinz's lip curled. He looked like he wanted to push a little harder on the wound just to make it hurt more. Perry couldn't blame him.

"I should've listened to you," Perry continued, in no more than a whisper. They had a secret language, the doctor and he. It wasn't necessary for him to do this; yet, at the same time, he needed to. He wanted to; because despite their connection sometimes his nemesis did need to hear him voice his thoughts. His hand lifted. He brushed his knuckles against his lover's face; an echo of some few hours ago, when he'd wondered whether he ought to lie to the man he trusted above all else. Stupid. So stupid. "It was just a mission to me. But it was more than that to you. Wasn't fair of me to brush you off like that."

"No. No it wasn't," Heinz agreed, retrieving a needle and thread. "This'll sting."

Perry's lip quirked again. "You want it to."

"Yeah," he admitted. "A little."

He sat back, and allowed Heinz to sew his grievances straight into his torn flesh.

"…She really was pretty," Doofenshmirtz sighed, breaking their prolonged pause. With Perry's shoulder bandaged, he bent to snap the med kit shut and tried avoiding his gaze again. "I can see why you… they… uh, wanted—"

"I can't," he interrupted, leaning forward. That much was true. In every conventional sense, yes; Agent A would be considered a hell of a lot more than 'pretty'. She had the kind of hair, eyes, body, and attitude that made girls like Candace insecure. But Perry had looked straight past all of that, as he was often wont to do, and seen nothing but a competent agent ready to do her job. She could never compare. Nothing compared to the way Heinz smiled, or the way his lab coat spun dramatically in the middle of a backstory. Nothing compared to the way his eyes shone when he looked at Vanessa, or to that habitual lip bite whenever he worked on something. Words weren't adequate enough to explain all of that to Doofenshmirtz, no matter how much he wanted them to be, because Heinz meant so much more than any of that. But damn if he wouldn't try his hardest to make use of them.

Heinz chuckled at him, sounding absolutely broken. "You know I don't get you sometimes. You could have anyone in the world, and you're… here."

"This is where I want to be." A reach forward. He took both of Heinz's hands in his own, watched his face fall, and made an educated guess. "…And you don't believe me, right? Because they all saw me with her. You think that's what I wanted."

They stared at each other. Perry saw the truth written all across Heinz's face.

He sighed, and pulled him up. Of all places, he wasn't going to have this conversation on the couch.

Perry could make his way to the bedroom blind. How many times had he carried his nemesis there after a hard battle? When he was sick. When he was immobilized. After a panic attack. Perry was intimately familiar with this particular space—and now more so, after they'd stepped across the line together. The room was a mess, but for once he made no comment. He pressed Doofenshmirtz by his shoulders to lay him down and switched on the lights. His nemesis flinched away from the brightness as he moved to lie beside him, insecure. Afraid. He'd heard the stories. He knew his pain. But if Perry could erase even the slightest doubt from his mind, he would consider it one of his greatest achievements.

His forehead against his partner's, he cupped his cheeks to look him in the eyes. "You think I wouldn't rather have had you with me at that godforsaken wedding, Heinz? Tell me straight. You really believe that?"

"Ah c'mon. Who would? I'd stick out like a sore thumb." Doofenshmirtz chuckled. Like it was funny. Like it was obvious. Perry sucked in a hissing breath, right between his teeth. "Everybody at that wedding practically oozed sex appeal. Even my brother, which is, you know, totally embarrassing, but…"

"But you think you don't?" It was Perry's turn to laugh, low and dark, his thumbs skimming small circles on soft skin as he watched thin eyebrows rise. "You think I don't think about us together when I'm alone in my bed? I know you can be daft, love, but you're smarter than that."

"Hey, if you're trying to charm my pants off, you really shouldn't insult me like that. You're supposed to be the suave one, right?"

They grinned, one uncertain, one exasperated.

"I'm tryin'a figure out when you started goin' blind, dipstick. Too many chemicals, yeah? Let's keep you away from the lab for a while."

"See? There you go again. You know, Perry the Platypus, if you weren't so desperate I might actually object." Perry listened to the way that his nemesis' voice faltered, trying—failing—to avail himself of that crippling self-doubt, and kissed him for it. Soft, steady, a mere question; if Heinz decided he wanted to push him off and wallow in his misery for a while, it wouldn't be his place to deny him. But in moments there was a soft rustle as his lab coat fell away, arms were wrapping around Perry's shoulders, and long fingers pulled through his hair. A request with no words—sometimes, Heinz needed help adjusting his perspective.

Breaths mingling, legs twining, Perry pulled them hip-to-hip. Give in, he thought, parting thin lips with his tongue to taste him. Give in, so that he might show him the beauty he saw every single day. Give in, so that he might wipe away all the anxiety he could see in his eyes. Heinz clutched at him, loose; he trembled as Perry traced the raised scar tissue through his shirt, grazing against the flesh with his thumb as if he was routing a map. How many times? How many times had he touched these, kissed them, mouthed at them, licked at them—and still he could spend hours more exploring every hollow, every burn mark, every echo of the adversity his nemesis had faced. Because they were a part of him, an intrinsic piece of the allure that had captivated him years ago.

Will you let me? he asked-and-didn't, skimming the tips of his fingers along the edge of Heinz's shirt. There were more scars there, twisting around soft muscle like a garden grown too wild. Between them, a hum of assent. He lifted the material, palm flat against the warmth of Heinz's body to feel the shudder that racked his frame. "I want you to take this off, a'right?"

"Are you sure—"

Another kiss, short and sweet. "Come on."

Put upon, Heinz huffed and hooked his fingers beneath the shirt. Perry leaned back to watch as pale skin revealed itself. And there—his heartbeat quickening, his breath shortening; he licked his lips while Doofenshmirtz tossed the garment away, and whispered, "You're beautiful."

He watched Heinz's sad smile, reading: how can you possibly say that? and pulled him back into his arms.

"First," he said, brows rising. "If y'tell anyone I said any of this, I'll kill ya."

Heinz actually laughed. Perry smiled to hear it.

"Now." Simple movement. He rolled his partner onto his back, heedless of the lab coat, and pressed his lips to Heinz's forehead. "Y'wanna know what attracted me to you first?"

Silence. But Doofenshmirtz waited below him with bated breath, so he knew he was listening.

"It was this," Perry told him, lips brushing against skin as he pressed a kiss to his temple. "Your mind. Most incredible thing I've ever seen. Worst part of it is, even if I tell you you're a genius, you probably won't believe me. But you are."

"They do say the brain is the sexiest organ," Heinz offered feebly. He reached, twining his fingers with Perry's in an effervescent touch.

"Too right." Bolstered by the admission, Perry ducked to kiss his cheek. "Any man can dick me down, Heinz. Takes a special one to make love to you with his words. And you do. Every day."

"I thought you hated listening to me talk."

"Nah. I just hate the headaches y'give me." The bed shook with their laughter, while he tightened his hold on his nemesis' fingers and feathered a kiss across his lips. "Don't mistake that though. Your voice is my favorite thing t'listen to."

"Let's make a deal then. I'll give you a slightly smaller headache tomorrow if you keep this going. It's really doing something for my ego."

"Deal." Satisfied, he leaned forward and rested his weight upon the other, letting the kiss linger long and slow. Fingers were tangling in his hair again, and Heinz retrieved his other hand to skim carefully past his bandaged shoulder all the way down to his hip. Perry hummed, leaned into his touch; hitched a leg up so that his knee pressed into Heinz's thigh until his partner's breath stopped. But he wanted more than that—more than a single spark of carnal desire. Could he communicate, through his own words, his own touch, how achingly ravishing he found this man?

His teeth latched upon Heinz's bottom lip, biting down so he could listen to the soft keening noise it earned him. It would be his mission to find out, he decided.

Soft as satin, he trailed his mouth down the pale column of Heinz's neck, feeling each breath as if they were his own. At his pulse he paused, suckled gently at the flesh, letting his partner writhe beneath him. Yes, he thought, as fingers convulsed, clutched at him. Let it leave a mark. Let him wear even this trifling sigil of adoration like a badge. The mere impression of it stole his breath; he dragged his teeth down to his collarbone and traced the scars at Heinz's sides, making sure to leave another lurid red imprint at his clavicle.

"Something else," Perry murmured, his fingers scratching lightly downward. He knew that the scars bothered him--knew that it would be years, maybe decades, maybe never, before he could convince him that they were as beautiful as he saw him. But still… "I've always loved tracing these. I know you think they're… but, your backstory's only one part of it. Any way y'slice it, you're still the most handsome guy I know."

"A-Am I?" Perry grinned. Heinz was losing his breath as he trailed his way down his body. Kissing. Nipping. Licking. He dug his fingers into the still-clothed skin of his thighs, holding him down as he ran the flat of his tongue against a hard nipple. That long, drawn out groan was music to his ears. "Perry th—hhhn."

Oh, but he was enjoying this. With Heinz's spirits (and his trousers) lifting, he could focus fully on making him feel better, making him feel adored. His thumb pressed down at the nub adjacent to his tongue, swiping soft circles around the tender flesh while he dragged kisses all the way down his nemesis' torso. God. How could Heinz possibly believe that he would want to look at, be with anyone else? No; not with this art in front of him; not with the tempting rise and fall of scars scraped into his skin. There was no one like Heinz, and he would spend the rest of his life convincing him if he needed to. For the moment, he simply settled for mouthing along old wounds, nibbling at the white flashes against peach-toned skin, teasing his tongue against ones he knew he might have made in the past. Russet eyes glanced up as he did so, seeking approval; wanting to know—was he doing the right thing?

"Keep going." Heinz's eyes were dark, his lips parted to release soft, halting breaths. Perry's stomach twisted at the sight. He kept their gaze together as he ventured further, further down, trailing his tongue until the fabric of his Heinz's trousers blocked his way. His nemesis bit his lip, a flush rising in his cheeks, and he just couldn't keep himself from teasing.

"Want me to stop?"

In response, Doofenshmirtz yanked on the hair at the back of his head to draw a laughing protest from him. "Alright, alright! Damn. Hang on…"

"If you insist." Heinz twisted his fingers, a telling gleam in his eye. Perry yelped as his head was drawn back so that he could glimpse his partner's smirking face.

"Hey, you said it, not me," he murmured, watching as his pants were undone and tugged downward within record time. "That was fa—ast! Ah…"

Perry dug his nails into Heinz's exposed hips as he took his cock down the slick warmth of his throat. He reveled in the slight pain of his hair being tugged and twisted, wrapping his fingers around the considerable girth at his base as Heinz cried out. The way his nemesis' back arched allowed him to take him deeper still, hollowing his cheeks and humming at the heat of his cock on his tongue. Perfect. Just perfect.

"Oh, fu—…mmm." He couldn't lie: he took pride in being able to render the master of monologue wordless, his breathing short and choppy save for a high keen if he lapped his tongue—there—just right. It brought a flush high on his own cheeks, heaved a groan from his occupied throat. His fingers tightened around the throbbing shaft, scratching lightly up the column of flesh he simply couldn't fit. It only took moments before he found his rhythm; a familiar flick of his wrist, a practiced bob of his head, guided by the slight push-and-pull of his nemesis' shaking palm. He closed his eyes. If he focused, he could feel the beat of Heinz's pulse on his tongue; could feel each shuddering breath every time he swallowed his cock. A little deeper. A little tighter; until he paused, letting the tip rest upon his tongue so that he could take a moment to taste the precum leaking from him. To his delight, his nemesis still had no words—just a soft, pleading whine.

"Fuck you taste good," he whispered, reverent. His wrist rolled slowly, deliberately, thumb teasing at the underside of his crown while he dragged moist lips all the way down in some mockery of a kiss. Sweat, salt, and musk filled his senses as he ducked his head, swiping his tongue between his balls to take one, then the other past his lips. He could spend the rest of the night down here if he wanted; take this nice and slow, eke out every ounce of Heinz's pleasure and patience until his nemesis could take no more and hauled him back to bed. Perry contemplated the option as he dragged his lips back up the stiff cock, capitulating to Doofenshmirtz's silent request as his hair was tugged up, up, and up. Maybe later. Some other time, when he wasn't occupied making Heinz squirm on the bed by sucking on the swollen head of his dick, or busy palming himself through his pants.

"Gott, bitte…" Heinz whispered, arching off the bed as Perry took his dick in once more. He pursed his lips and took his time, letting him feel every inch of slick wet heat that Perry gave to him, only him. He dragged the shaft leisurely at the top of his mouth, let him feel the softness of his tongue as he swallowed him down. Above him Heinz twisted. He could just barely see him biting his lips through half-lidded eyes, flushed and radiant and verging on the edge of desperate. He could see him fumbling for something, and he couldn't help the little growl of approval that had Doofenshmirtz falling back onto the bed with a choked cry as the bottle of slick tumbled to the floor. Perry held himself still so that Heinz could thrust shallowly down his throat as he kicked away his pants and squeezed his aching cock with a groan of relief. It only served, as he predicted, to set Heinz off a little more.

"Perr—y, Perry—"

Russet eyes closed, and he stilled himself before he had the chance to climb on top of his nemesis and ravage him. This was about Heinz; making sure he knew that the two of them was what he wanted. He took a breath as best he could, sucked greedily at the dick that Heinz was forcing ever deeper, and used the lube to slick his fingers. He warmed it for a few moments in his grasp before he shifted upward, pushing his nemesis' hips and letting his dick fall past his lips with a wet plop as he climbed onto the bed's available space. Doofenshmirtz shivered at his touch, but locked gazes with him as Perry dragged his fingers up and down the crack, circling the opening lazily with one finger just to drive him up the wall. He was patient. He could wait.

"Is this what you want, Heinz? Huh?" There he was, biting his lip again, his pale form squirming on the bed as Perry worked the tip of one finger into his ass. No movement; just a tease. "You want me to fuck you with my fingers? Tell me. Say you want me to fuck you with my fingers."

"Ja, yes, I need…" his eyes fluttered. From afar, Perry admired the way his indigo gaze had darkened to a telling midnight hue. "I want… you to do it, fuck me, with your fingers, I—please—"

Humming with approval, he twisted his wrist and carefully worked his finger further up Heinz's ass. He didn't know what it was—what prompted Heinz to be so quiet in bed, or why he found it so difficult to ask for what he wanted. An old lover, perhaps? Charlene, scolding him for being too loud? At first the near silence had thrown him; but he'd come to accept it, work around it—even used it to his advantage, every once in a while. So long as the two of them were happy, that was all that mattered in the moment. He had all the time in the world to unravel his nemesis' other secrets.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, not even knowing he was saying it out loud. His mind was a haze; he let the rhythm overtake him, just watching as the man he adored writhed and shivered at his touch. He added another finger cautiously, scissoring the gap wider still and licking his lips as Heinz whimpered. "So fucking sexy. Come on. Move. I know you want to. That's it."

His mouth watered at the sight. Heinz, his hips moving slowly, hesitantly, eyes closed and mouth open as he fisted his hands into the sheets. He had no idea how he could possibly think that he would want to imagine anyone else in his bed—in their bed, regardless of where they slept. Because that was where he belonged; here, with his nemesis, giving him all the pleasure he deserved. Idly Perry palmed himself, rocking his fingers to his lover's rhythm 'til the wet sound of their sex filled his ears. "Think you can do three for me, Heinz? Can you do that for me, love?"

A shiver. A tight nod. He'd come to realize that Heinz liked a little pain, and while he would readily accommodate, Perry's fingers were somewhat thick. So he made careful work of it, bending to kiss the breath right out of Heinz's lungs as he twisted a third finger into him. Oh, that sound; the strangled noise at the back of his lover's throat. He knew it well—pleasure and pain all at once, and he did his best to distract him with soft, feathery kisses all across his jawline. Even so, Heinz kept moving, kept fucking them, his breathing turning harsh as he groaned and turned his head to steal Perry's lips again.

"I want you," he whispered, pleading, tugging on Perry's arm in the way that meant he wanted him on top. Sometimes he did. Sometimes he bottomed. Neither of them had a real preference—but tonight, he had something specific in mind. So Perry shook his head, retrieving his hand while he rolled to heave Doofenshmirtz on top of him. Hazed blue eyes regarded him with some confusion and uncertainty, while Perry used his clean hand to curl around the back of Heinz's neck, his forehead pressing against the other's.

"Nah, sweets." He gentled the words, stilling the thundering beat of his heart against the idea of fucking his lover into the mattress. "I want you up there. I wanna see you. All of you."

"Why?" Heinz let his forehead drop, so that it was huffed into Perry's neck. Perry pressed his cheek into his hair, and shifted to pull his nemesis back up to look him in the eyes.

"Because you're the most gorgeous fucking thing I've ever seen," he told him, in that tone that meant he wasn't taking any bullshit. "An' I want to watch you ride my dick."

One breath, intended as a laugh. Heinz squeezed his shoulders and lifted himself, pressing a kiss to Perry's lips that spoke of all they couldn't say. Gratitude and heartache and forgiveness and all the adoration words simply couldn't express. He took it all, sliding his hands back down Heinz's sides until he could squeeze at his hips. While Heinz retrieved the lube he straddled him, and Perry rested an arm behind his head as he raked his gaze all along the wiry frame. Scars and missing limbs and all, he was and ever would be the single most beautiful man he would ever have the fortune to meet; this misunderstood and mistreated genius was his, and he had been stupid to allow OWCA to convince him to leave him behind.

He twitched. Cool, viscous liquid dripped onto his cock before a warm hand enclosed it and pumped up and down. Perry hissed through his teeth; opened russet eyes to see that Heinz watched him intently, bent on both knees and his mouth hanging partially open. I'm going to fuck that expression right off his face, he decided. He wanted Heinz with his eyes squeezed shut, breathless, wordless, shaking when he came. He licked his lips and bit the corner of his mouth at the thought, growling as Heinz climbed forward.

They studied each other, breaths ragged, eyes blown wide. Perry held himself steady as his nemesis leaned back to take his dick inch by agonizing inch. Under his breath, Perry swore, watched his lover's eyes shut as he finally sat upright to take his cock as far as it would go.

"Sheiße—"

"Fucking hell, Heinz—"

Doofenshmirtz whimpered, steadied himself upon Perry's chest as Perry drew up his knees. He quivered at the tight heat, holding himself still until his partner began to move in earnest. God only knew where Heinz had learned it from—if he was a fast learner and had picked it up while they made love, if he was just naturally gifted, just knew how to ride his cock—but it was enough to leave him grabbing for the sheets with his free hand, shaking as he watched Heinz fuck himself on his dick.

"Yeah love, just like that—" he held still, just watching, letting Heinz move at his own pace to adjust himself to his liking. He was exquisite like this; flushed and bitten and already shining with sweat. His nemesis was panting, head bent forward as he worked himself up and down, up and down, 'til his hips started gyrating in a way that had Perry crying out and arching his back. "Oh my god—"

"Like that, huh?" He didn't need to look. Heinz was smiling, that little self-satisfied smirk he wore when he knew he'd done something right for once. Perry wouldn't begrudge him for it when he had every reason to be proud, and especially not when he glanced up at him with his eyes dark with promise.

"You're so good, you know that?" Perry told him, voice strained. He couldn't help it—his hips lifted, finding the rhythm, their rhythm, and following until he was fucking his nemesis enough to shake the bed, matching every gyration to push harder, deeper. "So fucking good. Say it. Say you love riding my dick."

Heinz whined in response, panting as he rode faster to match his pace, throwing his head back just the way Perry wanted him to do. He reached forward, listening to the choked sob of a moan as he stroked the still-slick column of his cock, softened some by the lack of attention. Oh but it leapt at his touch; his lover whimpered as he ran his nails carefully down the underside before his wrist started flicking small, expert strokes. Damn the pain in his shoulder; he ignored it in favor of watching Doofenshmirtz start to lose himself riding on his cock, nails digging into his stomach to steady himself against the ever increasing pace.

"Per—" he choked out, leaning forward, dragging his nails until he could grab at his shoulders. Frantic, wild. Perry met him halfway, taking his lips in a fierce kiss as he leaned up on his elbows. He slowed, trading his speed for the type of precision that had his nemesis melting against him and begging. "Ich liebe— I love—verdammt, harder, bitte—"

"That's right you do," he murmured. He didn't need to hear the rest of it to know exactly what he was going for. "I bloody well know you do. Sit up, let me—"

Heinz scrambled upward, letting Perry shift to sit up so that they could adjust properly. Heinz was taller than him by default; but it had never been a problem. Not like this. He grabbed his hips, dug his fingers into the soft flesh of his backside and moved him, pulling him down hard and stretching him wide with his dick. Doofenshmirtz's arms wound around his neck, whimpering softly into his throat and shuddering at the low, clicking growl that Perry couldn't help letting out. He ceded to the temptation wearing at him and bit down on Heinz's neck hard, leaving teeth marks and more welts as he moved down. Those soft cries and whispers of his name drove him further, made his pace all the more frantic as he lost the rhythm and struck hard and fast. Shaking in his arms, Heinz pulled away, tugged his hair back and bit down on his lower lip before forcing his tongue down his throat. Perry groaned, sucked it further in, drew out a cry that shot desire straight down his spine. He loved him. He loved him so fucking much.

"You're unbelievable. " he murmured, grabbing a fistful of brown hair to keep Heinz's head level with his own. He stared into his eyes and nipped at his lower lip, never minding the way he mewled as he bucked upward further into his tight heat. "You're stunning. Incredible. I don't know how you could possibly think I could want anyone else when the sexiest man in the world is already mine."

Heinz kissed him full on, tugging at his hair and sobbing into his mouth. If he was crying, Perry couldn't tell between the mess of the kiss and the precum still resting on his tongue. He ignored it, pressing up against his nemesis until they could move together no further, his hips stilling for a moment while he moved to set Heinz on the sheets. He couldn't tell which view was better—Heinz astride him, riding him, fierce, untamed; or this, with his legs wrapping around his waist, pliant, so that he could see the want and the passion in his eyes. His gaze softened, and he sheathed himself in entirety while he cupped his cheeks in his hands.

"You're my life," he whispered, staring with ardent intent into those fathomless blues. He felt him shift to see if he could take him deeper still. His body demanded release—but he needed this. They needed this. He could take a moment and exercise his considerable self control if it meant erasing Heinz's doubt for one night. "My life. I don't see anyone else. I don't want anyone else. Just you. You know that. Please know that."

Heinz gulped and nodded, obliging; Perry knew it for what it was. He was trying to internalize it, doing his best to war against the myriad of voices that told him otherwise. He could only do so much against them, but when he watched his nemesis open his eyes, it was to see a bout of clarity enough to cause both of them to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Move," he invited, tender, his arms winding back around Perry's shoulders. "Please."

So he did.

They moved together; less frantic, more sensual. Perry made a point not to remove himself from his nemesis' grasp, resting his forearms on either side of Heinz's head so that he could kiss him, taste him, breathe with him even as the air was fucked straight from Heinz's lungs. He let Heinz pull his hair back, let him leave as many marks as he wanted; knowing he couldn't, wouldn't hide them, not anymore, because they deserved that, after all they'd been through together. Eventually, he licked the palm of his hand, used it to stroke his lover's neglected cock just to watch him writhe a little more, get lost in the pleasure and eke out all those noises Doofenshmirtz seemed so keen on holding back. His encouragement was gentle; soft kisses down his neck as he stroked him and teased the head of his dick, words whispered in his ear that left his nemesis panting.

"You're mine," Perry reminded him, the stuttering pace causing his voice to waver. "You're mine and you feel so fucking good around my cock; don't stop, please, fuck…"

Heinz whined, and lasted only a few more pointed thrusts before he arched against him, spilling over Perry's hand as he gave a violent shudder.

And Perry's breath hitched; he tried, he tried to hold out as his ass squeezed around his cock, but he spilled with a broken moan anyway, and filled him with his cum as his nemesis panted beneath him.

"…Well fuck," Heinz sighed after a few moments, eliciting a small chuckle from the man above him. Perry's eyes fluttered; he didn't move to pull out until he could feel Heinz reach lazily over to the nightstand to grab the wet wipes. Boneless and sated he rolled to lie beside him, mindlessly taking the kerchief offered and wiping himself down before he tossed it unerringly at the adjacent trash bin.

"That was good," he mumbled, and turned, because he wanted to go home. Heinz accepted him into his arms easily, and pressed his face into his hair.

"Thanks for that." Heinz sounded calm, entirely serene; it made him smile, knowing he'd achieved what he wanted.

"Didn't do it for you," he groused, throwing an arm over his nemesis' waist. "M'holding you to that deal. How long is the monologue this time?"

"I dunno. Like ten minutes, tops. Can't make it too long or the class gets bored for some reason."

"Y'said less of a headache," Perry pointed out. "Five minutes."

"You're not even going to be there."

"You, showin' high school kids cloning?" Tired as he was, he still managed a wry tone. "Gonna have to be there."

"It'll work this time."

"It worked last time. Badly."

Heinz sighed, put upon once again. "Fine. Five minutes. And you cook dinner."

Fuck. "Fine. Ass."

"Insolent," Heinz yawned, stretching the insult out while he turned to gather Perry further against him. Perry kept his eyes closed, heedless of the lights, and buried his face in his nemesis' neck so that he could sleep.