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The door to the safe house shut and locked automatically as Harold bent to release Bear from his leash and hung it up. He bustled past the sofa in the living room and paused when he realized John hadn't moved further into the apartment, doing his usual security rounds.
John had assured him he was fine in the car, but one glance at him now under bright lights, told Harold a very different story. John was leaning against the wall, his facial expression in a loose grimace, and Harold hurried back to him. In the light he could see that the suit was ruined, torn in places and stained with garbage and blood. It didn't matter. He'd toss it and get John another one. What actually mattered was John's well being.
“I hurt." John's whine was soft, as if he didn't want to admit to the truth.
“Of course you do." Harold reached up to cup his cheek, rubbing a thumb over his stubble. "But thank you for telling me," he course corrected. "You’re lucky that dumpster was there to catch you when you were thrown from that second story window."
In his mind, Harold replayed the image of John sailing through the air. He'd been listening to the fight on the comm in his ear while watching the building from inside his car on the other side of the street. He shuddered as he heard the impact of John landing amongst the garbage again.
"Do you need to see a doctor? Do you think anything is broken?"
John took a minute to catalog his hurts, avoiding eye contact with Harold. "No, I don't think it's that bad," he said, finally.
I am lucky, Harold thought to himself. John could so easily have been dead, laying on the pavement with a broken spine, a cracked skull, and a bloody halo. He crumpled in that moment and John was there, catching him, and holding him up. After all they'd been through together, he knew he'd be lost without John by his side.
"Harold?"
Harold straightened, gathered his wits about him, and took a step back, reaching to take John's hand in his, interlacing their fingers. "I'm okay. Just... grateful you're still here."
Relief passed through John's eyes and Harold tugged him forward.
"Come. Let's get you into the bath. You stink and I'm sure your muscles could use some loosening up."
John followed him and he set up a warm bubble bath in the large tub while John got undressed, piling his clothes in a heap on the floor. Scanning John's body, Harold tried not to stare at the florid bruises and shallow knife wounds littering his pale skin.
"Those cuts are going to sting, but they don't look bad enough to require anything more than regular band-aids. We'll get you cleaned up, get the blood washed off, and then I can dress those wounds."
John nodded.
In the warm water, Harold sat behind him, at first letting John lean against his chest to relax and warm up for awhile.
Bear nosed the bathroom door open and came in to check on them.
"Hey Bear," John greeted as Bear sniffed him with his gentle nose. "I'm okay. Promise."
The dog gave a low whine and curled up on the bath mat for a nap.
"Can I wash your hair?" Harold asked.
"Mmm, please."
Harold picked up a blue plastic cup from the side of the tub and filled it with soapy bath water. "Close your eyes while I wet your hair." He waited a second and then carefully dribbled the water over John's head, holding one hand over his eyes for added protection.
He pooled shampoo into his palm, spread it between his hands, and began to massage it into John's scalp, careful not to miss a single spot. John moaned in pleasure while Harold worked.
After rinsing the shampoo out, Harold next picked up the white bar of coconut soap and rubbed it between his palms. He washed John's chest, armpits, and stomach, slowly rubbing him down with the soap, careful not to rub too hard around the cuts and bruises and thankful there weren't too many of them. He could have used a washcloth for this, but he'd rather give John a gentler wash over his cuts and scrapes with his bare hands.
John preferred skin-to-skin contact whenever he could get it too. After a tough day at work, John would strip them both naked just to cuddle for a few hours. Sometimes it would end in sexual intercourse, but not always, and Harold eventually figured out his partner was comforted by skin-to-skin contact, no matter where it lead. He had a feeling John would crawl inside him while he slept, if only he could.
The water turned a pale shade of pink from the dried blood and Harold did his best to keep his breathing even and his heart beat steady. The last thing he needed was John trying to comfort him when he was trying to take care of John.
He shifted his right hand lower before the last of the soap slithered away in the bath water, and washed John between his legs, reaching for all the hidden nooks and crannies to ensure he did a thorough job. The fact that John's cock didn't even twitch as the back of his hand brushed against the soft skin, was very telling of John's current condition.
"I'm going to need you to lean forward so I can wash your back."
When John was positioned how Harold wanted him, he began a slow massage of John's neck and shoulders, using the soap and trying not to touch his bruises. John's groans grew louder as Harold worked the tight knots out of his muscles.
"Fuck, Harold, right... right there," he hissed and Harold could tell he was gritting his teeth by the tightness in his jaw muscles.
He dug harder into the muscle working the knot out until John sighed with eventual relief and sagged against him. Harold wrapped his arms around John, resting his cheek against John's shoulder and neither of them moved until the water began to cool and Harold insisted they get out so he could see to John's wounds.
Later, John rested his head against Harold's chest as they lay in bed under the covers in the dark and Harold absently ran his left hand through John's clean hair. He enjoyed the feeling of John's warm skin against his even when they did nothing more than hold each other. If he was truthful with himself, Harold enjoyed the comfort of skin-to-skin contact with John just as much.
Bear was already sound asleep on his bed, his tail thumping softly from a dream he must have been having. Harold was wide awake, his mind spinning with the fact that yet again, he could have so easily lost John earlier that night.
"Harold? Are you okay?"
"I’m afraid…" Harold cleared his throat. "Pardon me for being selfish, but..."
"Afraid?" John prompted when Harold didn't finish his thought. "Of what?"
"Of losing you," Harold blurted.
John shifted to face him, leaning up on his elbows with a little hiss as he twisted his torso around.
"You won’t lose me. Not now. Not after all we’ve been through."
"Maybe not by choice, no. But we’re in the middle of a violent war, John, and you’re the one heading out into danger everyday. I just want… I want to hold on tight to you… and never let go."
John rested his forehead against Harold's arm and let out a breath of air. "I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize." He placed an awkward kiss to the top of John's head. "These are our jobs."
John looked back up at him, a curious glint in his eyes. "This doesn’t have anything to do with that little black box in your night stand I found when I was grabbing your pills the other day, does it?"
"Still the nosey spy, I see." Harold gave him a wry smile, then sobered. "What if it did? Would you? Marry me, that is? I know I’m not-"
"Yes." John was meeting his gaze, his expression intense and serious. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, and when he spoke again, his words were whisper soft, "Please tell me it's mine. I love you and I'm terrified of losing you too."
"Oh John, of course it's yours. Of course it is." Harold was surprised to find his voice wobbly and his heart fluttering out of control. Had John just agreed to marry him?
John reached to turn the bedside light back on, then got the box from the night stand. "Tell me about it. How did you pick it out? Knowing you, a lot of thought went into it."
He handed the box over to Harold.
"Silver is a good color for you," Harold began. "And it's a warm shade of silver which I especially liked for you." Harold took in a shuddering breath as he opened the box and took the ring out. He held it up. "Titanium is lightweight and durable. It's also plain on the outside, and therefore, not identifiable in any meaningful way. I figured those traits would be important, knowing what you do everyday."
Harold's vision blurred. "I had it engraved on the inside so you'd know it was yours and so you'd know it came from me." He showed John the script that read "Always."
"Harold..." John's voice caught in his throat as he stared at the ring.
"The company is small and veteran owned, which I know is also important to you, and the design was inspired by the silver airplanes of the 1930s and I liked that purely for selfish reasons."
When he glanced back up at John, his partner gave him a watery smile. "I love it, Harold. I love everything about it."
John was holding out his left hand.
"This should go on your right hand until the ceremony if you're planning on wearing it now," Harold admonished.
"Are we having a ceremony?"
"If you want one."
"Who would we get to officiate?"
"I haven't thought that far ahead yet."
"You mean you weren't sure I'd say yes?"
Harold sighed. "No. I honestly wasn't." He reached out to cup John's cheek again. "I'd hoped for it but you left once before and I wouldn't blame you for not wanting to tie yourself down to someone like me in the middle of an AI war I dragged you into."
John took Harold's hand in his and kissed the palm. "No place I'd rather be. I meant it when I said it all those months ago. I still do. I'm not leaving your side for anything."
He leaned up and his soft lips covered Harold's in a light, sweet kiss that left his senses gently spinning out of control.
"Who would we invite?" John asked on a breath of air as their lips parted.
"I thought... a small ceremony... Detective Fusco is free next weekend to act as witness."
"We don't have an officiate yet, remember?"
"There's always the Justice of the Peace at City Hall."
"I still have to buy you a ring first."
"Mmm... okay, we'll wait, but only for that."
John chuckled and thrust out his right hand. "Ring me."
As Harold slipped the warm silver titanium ring onto John's finger, he couldn't help but notice how John's cheeks glowed with happiness and wonder. If only he could keep that expression there forever.