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In Joe’s opinion, two months apart were two months too many.
He understood why they’d needed to separate—they’d had a messy mission, and needed to get away clean. Usually, such things would allow for at least he and Nicky to stay together, but with the recent prevalence of CCTV and facial recognition, Andy had wanted to be as careful as possible.
So they’d split up, going in four different directions and disappearing into the shadowed corners of the world.
No contact until the rendezvous.
So, yes. Joe understood why it needed to be done. But that did not take from the fact that so long away from Nicolò had been difficult to bear.
Two. Months.
Compared to the nine hundred years they’d been together, it was nothing but the blink of an eye. Logically, it should have been easy.
But for Joe, who was used to always having the other half of his soul right by his side, there was nothing logical about it. He loved Nicolò more than reason could dictate, and being away from him felt like he was fighting against the laws of the universe.
Joe had begun making his way to Budapest as soon as he feasibly could, not wanting to run the risk of wasting a moment with Nicky. And on the day of the rendezvous, he walked into the hotel lobby with a spring in his step and an ache in his heart.
Booker was already at the counter, speaking with the concierge in a quick, low tone. Joe called to him, and Booker frowned as he turned, but it smoothed and was replaced with a curve of his lips as he realised who had spoken.
They exchanged words of greeting, and a warm hug. But of course, Booker knew that he was not who Joe most wanted to see.
“The others are already here,” Booker said. He nodded to the concierge, conversation apparently finished, then added—“They’re in room 612—”
Joe didn’t wait for the end of the sentence. He was already moving across the lobby, long strides purposeful, eyes upon the elevator. His fingers stabbed the up button, pressing it over and again.
“You know,” Booker said, stepping up next to Joe at a far more sedate pace. “That doesn’t actually make the lift appear any faster.”
Joe threw him a dirty look, but quickly forgot his reply as he heard the tell-tale ding. He slid inside, then returned to stabbing buttons—this time, the one which would close the doors.
Booker rolled his eyes, and pressed the 6.
Joe knew that he was being ridiculous. It had been two months, and after that long any sane person might have wondered… what were two more minutes?
But to Joe, those two minutes felt like an eternity, the soft sound of the lift as irritating against his skin as the ticking of a clock.
He again dashed through the doors as they opened, almost taking Booker out with his backpack as he did so. His fist hammered against the wood of the door to room 612 almost as violently as he’d pressed the elevator button.
Andy opened the door, her smile wide in greeting—
But sitting on the couch behind her, looking up from the book he’d had resting against his knees, was Nicky.
There was no thought process involved, no choice to be made or decision to consider. No logic. Joe didn’t even see Andy nor hear her wry ‘Hi Joe, missed you too’ as he dropped his bag and pushed past her, his pace picking up the further he went.
Nicky stood, book discarded, his expression soft and his eyes shining a bright, bright blue. And those last few steps? Joe ran, unable to bear the distance for even just one second longer. He threw himself at Nicky with such force that his feet left the ground, arms flying around Nicky’s shoulders as his love firmly caught him around the waist. There was a moment before Joe’s feet touched the floor, but when they did, Nicky’s hands slid up his back to wrap tightly around his shoulders in a perfect hug. And finally, for the first time in two months, Joe found himself able to relax.
He could hear himself talking, but he wasn’t really keeping track of his own words. Details didn’t matter—he only knew he was telling Nicolò how he loved him, missed him, needed him.
Nicky’s words, however—those, Joe heard. Every single one.
“I love you too, cuore mio, every moment has been a torture. It has been too long since you were last in my arms, and I do not want you to move from them again.”
“But I’ll have to,” Joe replied. “For while I adore your hugs, you're holding me too tightly to kiss you, and to never do so again would be a tragedy my heart cannot bear.”
Nicky loosened his grip immediately—
And when their lips finally touched, it felt like coming home.
“I missed you,” Joe whispered against Nicky’s skin, finding himself physically unable to pull away.
“And I you,” Nicky replied.
Joe kissed Nicky again, deeper than before, wanting to feel all of him after so long without—
“Guys—guys, we’re still here! Pour l'amour de Dieu—”
“You are welcome to get a second room,” Nicky interrupted. Joe grinned, still unable to pull his gaze from those blue eyes.
“If not, you’re welcome to stay and watch,” Joe added.
“Qu'ai-je fait pour mériter ça?” Booker groaned, though even distracted as he was Joe could recognise the fondness in his tone. “Right. New rule. From now on, every time we rendezvous after a split, you guys are meeting up first. No exceptions.”
Andy snorted. Joe didn’t reply. He was too busy smiling as he leaned his forehead against Nicky’s, his eyes falling closed in complete and utter contentment.
Besides, it was rather a moot point—
Because Joe certainly did not plan on letting Nicky go any time soon.