[He'd been after coffee, in fact, but Perry's played Harry's on-again off-again keeper long enough to know his hopeful look for what it is--it's in the set of Harry's shoulders if it weren't already blatant on his face--and he sets about fixing a late lunch without missing a beat, as though that'd been his intention all along. He still turns on the coffee machine first, setting an extra mug out on the counter without so much as thinking about it. Harry isn't the only one who keeps making the same stupid mistakes. It's his own damn fault for falling back into routine so easily every time Harry shows his face again.]

I don't care what people do. [Perry grouses, sounding more irritated than he is. 'Lunch' itself amounts to sandwiches, but he'd already eaten and it's too early to start dinner; and for all it's an overtly generous gesture were anyone to realize, he still sits the plate of them on the counter for Harry to retrieve one for himself. Like all things it's a balance between doing too much and too little, letting Harry get too comfortable or driving him away for good.] You don't pay any rent, so you can either quit bitching about the things I do ask of you or find someone else who'll tolerate you for more than a week.