Chapter Text
“Thank you so much, Doctor Smith,” the older woman smiled and patted his arm. “You’re a good man.” Her wrinkly face lit up when Nicky smiled back at her.
“And you promise me to behave now, Mrs. Goldman!” he said and tried to look sternly at her. “No cake without your insulin anymore!”
“But it was so good,” the old woman complained. “And I forgot it at home.”
“Mrs. Goldman, this can kill you,” he said. “I don’t want to read in the papers that you passed away because you didn’t listen to me.”
“I promise to behave,” she sighed and rose from the examination bed. Nicky held his arm out to help her till she got her cane and could walk alone. “My granddaughter will see to it, too,” she said and then she winked at him. “Did I tell you about my granddaughter?”
“Yes, Mrs. Goldman, you told me,” Nicky said. He took her file, scribbled in it and then went to the door to open it.
“She is still single, Dr. Smith,” Mrs. Goldman said, a smile on her lips. “And she’s about your age and…”
Nicky raised his hand where a golden ring glistened.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Goldman. I’m convinced your granddaughter is a wonderful woman… but I’m taken,” he said. ‘And play for the other team,’ he added in his mind.
“Pity,” Mrs. Goldman sighed audibly while walking to the door slowly. “She’s such a nice girl and can’t find a decent guy.”
“I’m pretty sure she will find someone, too,” he smiled. When Mrs. Goldman was on her way to the desk, he went to the nurse and gave her the file.
“I want to see her again in two weeks,” he said. “Could you make an appointment?”
“Sure,” Nurse Jenny smiled and took the file. “And Nile is here now, you can leave.”
“Ah, okay,” Nicky nodded. As much as he liked the ambulance service in this hospital, sometimes it was really stressful and today was one of these days. “Then I can go home.”
“Good night,” Nurse Jenny said and Nicky went to the locker room to get his stuff.
“Hey, Nicky,” he heard a voice and saw a younger, black woman just closing her locker.
“Hey,” he smiled. “How are you doing?"
“Fine,” Nile said and leaned against the locker. “How was the ambulance today?”
“Mrs. Goldman was here again,” he sighed. “She still tries to hook me up with her granddaughter.” He just removed his scrubs, threw them into the bin and put on his own clothes, comfy jeans and a black shirt.
“Joe would be disappointed,” Nile said straight-faced and Nicky chuckled.
“Maybe we should introduce her to Merrick,” he grinned.
“Oh god, no! Poor girl!” Nile said. “No one deserves that.” Steven Merrick was a good doctor, one of the best the hospital had and he was brilliant. The problem was he knew that and he had the personality of a vulture. No, nobody deserves someone like him, Nicky thought.
“True,” he smiled. “But I will have to go now. Joe wanted to cook dinner and he hates it when it gets cold.”
“Then hurry,” she shooed him out of the locker room. Nicky reached up to remove the scrunchie that held his hair out of his face and his longish hair from the top fell over the close shaven sides. He took his black porkpie hat and put it on and Nile raised a brow. But he just winked, shouldered his bag and walked out the door. He liked the hat. Joe had bought it for him and said he would look good with it and since Joe was probably the most fashion-conscious guy he knew, he listened to him and wore it.
On his way to the tube he thought about Joe and the way he often talked him into things he would have never done before, just like wearing this hat or the undercut he had nowadays. Nicky knew that he was a complete and utter fashion disaster and had absolutely no sense for style in any way. Before he met Joe he usually wore too big shirts and baggy jeans and Nile had said her eyes would start to bleed if she had to look at him in clothes like that ever again.
On the other hand, he never had to care about clothes when he grew up. There was always someone there who provided him with what he needed and so he never thought twice about it. But since he moved to London, since he lived on his own… it was difficult, he had to admit.
But then, then he met Joe. And Joe had looked at him as if he was the only human on Earth and he had painted him and had written poetry for him. How could he not fall for him? Because Joe was just perfect and Nicky loved him with all his heart and his soul.
He entered the station, waited for his train, got on and even found a seat. He took his phone and sent a quick text to Joe to tell him that he was on his way back home right now. He smiled when Joe sent him back a smiley with heart eyes.
Twenty minutes later he entered the small apartment he shared with his husband, put his hat on the coat rack and went to the kitchen where Joe just stirred in a frying pan.
“Buonasera, tesoro,” he said and wrapped his arms around his waist. He kissed his temple.
“Buonasera,” Joe smiled and turned around in his arms. He leaned in to kiss him.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” he said when they parted.
“It smells incredible,” he said and Joe’s face lit up. He loved to cook for him since he had quit his job to work on the paintings for his first exhibition full time. At the moment Nicky’s salary was the only income they had and so Joe ran the house. He had told him it’s the least he could do after Nicky convinced him to quit.
“I finished ‘La Luna’ today,” Joe told him when he turned back to stir in the pan again. Nicky went to the cupboard, took out two plates, took some silverware, too, and went to the small dining table they had squeezed in the nook behind the sleeping couch. He just set the table when his eyes fell on a stack of letters. And all the color drained out of his face.
“What’s that?” he asked and took the first letter. It looked very official and he swallowed hard. He recognized the golden seal in the corner immediately. In the middle was the white crest with the red cross and his mouth went dry.
“Oh, that was in the mail today,” he said. “It looks very important. Didn’t know you knew people from Genova.”
“My family is from there,” he said absentmindedly and stared at the envelope.
“Really?” Joe frowned. “You said you’re from Italy.”
“Huh?” Nicky looked up from the envelope he still held in his hand. “Oh, it’s because people know Italy but not many know the Principality of Genova, let alone know where it is. And technically it is in Italy… or at least surrounded by Italy on all sides but one. Perdonami.”
“Nothing to forgive,” Joe said and came over worriedly. “But are you okay?”
Nicky straightened his back and nodded. He took the envelope and went to the kitchen, opened the wastebasket and threw it in.
“Yeah,” he smiled. “Yeah, now I am.”
“Are you sure?” Joe asked and cupped Nicky’s cheek. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“My father kicked me onto the street. He didn’t care about me back then and now I don’t care what he wants from me,” he smiled and nodded at the kitchen. “Something’s smelling funny.”
“Fuck!” Joe cursed and hurried back to the kitchen. He muttered under his breath while Nicky watched him with a smile.
“I’m pretty sure it’s good,” he said and went to Joe to kiss his temple before he opened the fridge, took out a bottle of water, a bottle of wine and fetched two glasses. He went back to the table, poured some water for Joe - he was muslim and didn’t drink alcohol - and some wine for himself.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Joe asked when Nicky downed the glass in one gulp.
“Yes,” he said and cursed himself for lying to Joe quietly. “It was just a stressy day at work. Mrs. Goldman was there and she still tries to set me up with her granddaughter.”
Joe laughed and his eyes sparkled when he brought the food to the table. He sat down and put some Couscous on Nicky’s plate, then on his own before he added something that looked - and smelled - like lamb stew.
“I’m starving,” Nicky moaned and took a bite. It was delicious, as always.
“The eggplants are burnt,” Joe admitted and took a sip from his water.
“They are okay,” he said with a smile. “You finished La Luna you said? Can I see it?”
La Luna was supposed to be one of the two main paintings of Joe’s exhibition. It took up almost a whole wall in their former bedroom. They had cleared it out, threw out their bed and bought themselves a comfortable sleeping couch to turn the bedroom into an atelier where Joe could work undisturbed.
“Of course you can,” Joe grinned. “When you finished your food.”
“Yes, Mamma,” Nicky quipped and Joe laughed again.
But he finished his plate and ate a second helping.
“Ready?” Joe asked and Nicky nodded. He rose, took Joe’s hand and together they went into the atelier. Joe had refused to let him see it after posing for it and now he was more than curious. The first thing Nicky saw when he entered the room were his own eyes. It was as if he looked in a mirror. His face bathed in moonlight, stars sparkling in his eyes and his hand, reaching for the moon. It was painted in Joe’s typical style and it was beautiful.
“Wow!” he breathed and looked at the man beside him. “That’s me?”
“That’s what I see when I look at you, my moon and stars,” he said. Nicky squeezed his hand, his mouth so painfully dry at the moment.
“What do you think?” Joe asked after a long moment and Nicky turned to him - he’s never been good with words - and kissed him.
“I love it,” he said. “And Quynh will love it, too.”
“Of course she will,” Joe grinned. “The subject is absolutely gorgeous.”
Nicky felt the heat creep into his cheeks and he knew he just blushed again. Joe was the only person who still managed to make him blush.
“What about Il Sole?” he asked and turned to him. And now it was time for Joe to blush.
“It’s… not ready,” he said. “It’s difficult, you know.”
Il Sole was supposed to be the counterpart and Joe was trying to paint a self portrait. But he was too self-critical if you’d ask Nicky.
“You call me your moon and your stars, my love,” he said and reached out to cup Joe’s cheek. “I call you my sun and my warmth. It will be beautiful because it’s you, Yusuf,” he said.
“How do I deserve you?” Joe asked and placed his hand over Nicky’s on his cheek. He turned his head and placed a kiss on the inside of his wrist.
“I could ask you the same,” Nicky smiled and pulled him closer to properly kiss him.
“I love you, my moon and stars,” Joe said.
“I love you, too, my sun and warmth.”