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Nicky cuts himself shaving. It’s a tiny nick at the edge of his jaw. A wound that small will heal in seconds, so he ignores it. Only when a bead of blood breaks and slides down his neck does Nicky give pause. Look closer.
Slowly, he lowers the razor down to the lip of the sink. Then he reaches up, as if in a trance, and swipes at the blood with the pad of his middle finger. It streaks across his skin. Another bead emerges, following the path of the first.
It’s not healing.
He’s not…
“Nicky?” Joe calls from the bedroom. “Have you seen my cell phone?”
Nicky hesitates. How will he ever tell Joe? “Uh, no. No, I haven’t seen it.”
“You sound suspicious, my heart. Are you hiding it?” Joe appears in the doorway, mischievous smile on his face. Through the mirror, Joe looks at Nicky and Nicky watches. Joe’s brow pulls together in confusion when he sees Nicky’s face. His smile slips clean off when he sees the blood. “Nicolo.”
Joe moves at once. He takes Nicky’s shoulders and turns him to face him. Then his hands are there, at the cut, gently probing. Nicky winces, and Joe’s face pales.
He pulls away and snatches the razor off the sink.
“Joe, wait!”
Joe slashes a thin slice across his forearm. Nicky holds his breath, waiting.
The wound closes.
“No,” Joe’s voice breaks. “No.” He throws the razor into the sink, then shoves both hands into his hair, tugging. Tears well in his eyes, then spill, leaving wet tracks down his cheeks. “Nicolo.”
“Shhh.” Nicky takes Joe’s face in his hands and wipes at the tears with his thumbs. “Yusuf. I am here.”
“We must… Together, we…”
“My love.” Nicky’s heart splinters at the sight of Joe so utterly broken, at the way he trembles beneath Nicky’s hands. How often has his love strung beautiful words together? Now, he can’t find them. “I am still here.”
Joe grabs at Nicky’s wrists and holds on tightly.
He does not let go for a long, long time.
*
Except for basic needs, they do not leave the bed for a week. Joe requires comfort, and Nicky is happy to give it, even as his own chest tightens. He thought they would die together. Now, he will have no choice but to leave Joe behind.
“I will find a way to fix this,” Joe said, at first.
“Joe,” Nicky started, but Joe stopped him.
“Don’t say it. Please, Nicolo.”
Everything dies. “I won’t.”
Later, Joe promised, “We will delay this for as long as we can. But that means you must not put yourself in danger anymore.”
“I won’t run, Joe.”
And now, as they are getting ready to meet Andy and Nile, Joe says, “I will protect you.”
“You always have before,” Nicky says.
“This is different.” He grips his hands into fists and will not look Nicky in the eye.
*
For the first time in a very long time, Andy looks surprised. “Both of us, then?”
“It appears so, yes,” Nicky replies.
She glances at Joe. He’s staring at the table. When she looks back to Nicky, he shakes his head.
“I see,” Andy says.
Nile looks between them all. She holds her head up, strong as the rest of them crumble. Though, the fear in her eyes betrays her. She’s much too young to already lose them.
Andy pushes her chair back. “How about some whiskey?”
“Yes,” Nicky and Joe say at once. He still won’t meet Nicky’s eyes.
Nicky wonders if getting drunk will feel different as a mortal.
*
They are on a mission. Nicky has his sniper rifle. He’ll cover from a distance. He doesn’t need to get close.
He still gets shot in the shoulder, even after Joe takes two to the chest to protect him.
“Joe!” He reaches out. Andy holds him back. Nile eliminates the threat.
“He’ll be fine in a minute,” Andy tells him, “but you won’t be.” She covers his wound. “Stop moving or you’ll bleed out.”
Still, he doesn’t lie back until he sees Joe rising. He can’t breath until Joe is beside him, taking his hand.
Before, the wounds were painful, but eventually the pain stopped. With this, he aches and aches and aches.
*
The ache never really goes away. Not after a week. Not after two.
“No more missions,” Joe says, when he finally decides to speak again. They are in their bedroom, but lately it’s felt more like a funeral parlor. Nicky’s still here, but Joe is already mourning him. They haven’t made love since before the mission. Joe only touches him when he reaches for him in sleep.
“I will not sit by and do nothing,” Nicky says, frustration and anger spiking. He loves this man with his whole heart and soul, but his patience is thinning. “I will not wait.”
“What is so wrong with waiting, Nicky?” Joe crosses the room toward him. They are two feet apart, near shouting. It is he closest they’ve been outside of sleeping for two weeks. The longest Joe has looked at him in three. The furthest their hearts have been in 900 years. “Must you chase after death, when you only have one left to give?”
“I want to help people,” Nicky says. “How can I do that from this room?”
“We’ll find other ways.”
Nicky shakes his head. How to make him understand? “I feel like a prisoner.”
Joe’s shoulders drop, a sign the fight is leaving him. But this too, frustrates Nicky. His love never gives up.
Nicky starts forward. “Joe.”
Joe waves him off. “I’m sorry. It was not my intention to trap you.” He sidesteps Nicky and heads for the door. “I’ll speak with Andy.” He grips the handle.
Nicky takes three long strides and shoves the door closed before it could really open.
“I’m trying to do what you want,” Joe says.
Nicky takes a breath, hoping to draw strength into his voice. It still breaks when he says, “Then look at me.”
Joe doesn’t at first, until Nicky says, “Please.”
When Joe does look, his eyes widen at whatever he sees there.
“Touch me,” Nicky says. He’s begging and he doesn’t care. “You have not touched me since…” He takes another breath, finding more fragile strength. “This is not living, Yusuf. I feel as though I’m already dead.”
Joe drops the handle. He turns toward Nicky. Fire ignites in his eyes. “No,” he whispers, then says again, louder, “No.” He grips the front of Nicky’s shirt and pulls him in. One hand wraps around Nicky’s waist. The other combs through Nicky’s hair, drawing him closer, bringing their lips together. He kisses softly at first, but with a growing need. Nicky grabs at Joe’s shoulders and will not let go.
When they break for breath, Joe says, “Forgive me, my love. Forgive me.”
“There’s no need,” Nicky tells him and leads him to the bed.
Joe pulls off Nicky’s shirt. “You are alive,” he whispers into the newly exposed skin. He’s gentle with Nicky’s wound, but insistent in other ways. He presses Nicky into the mattress.
“I’m here,” Nicky tells him.
“You’re here,” Joe replies, and proves it to them both.
*
It’s morning and they are dressing to meet Andy and Nile. Joe’s at the mirror, trimming his beard with a pair of scissors. Nicky’s standing beside him, stretching, waiting for his turn at the sink to brush his teeth.
His wound aches, but he’s sated and content and can’t stop smiling at the smile Joe gives him.
Joe isn’t paying enough attention to what he’s doing. He nicks the edge of his cheek.
And it bleeds.