Chapter Text
“Are you actually going into work today?”
John bites back a groan. “Yes, I am,” he says evenly before taking a sip of his coffee. “Is that a problem?
His husband glares at him. “You do know what today is, don’t you?”
“Yes, Eric. It’s our anniversary,” John answers flatly. He finishes his coffee and stands, carrying the mug over to the sink to rinse it out.
This does nothing to placate Eric. “It feels like all you do is work,” he gripes, leaning back against the counter. His arms cross over his chest. “We never take vacations, we barely spend holidays together, and trying to get you home to at least have dinner together is like pulling teeth!”
Breathing heavily through his nose, John sets the mug in the sink and turns around. “My job demands a lot, Eric. You knew that when we got together. I made it perfectly clear.”
“Yeah and I could understand when you were actually being sent on missions,” Eric shoots back, “But you’re a general now. And yet, every day you go sit in your office doing God knows what just in case.”
John silently counts back from ten as he picks his beret off the table and places it on his head. “I don’t want to fight,” he finally replies, his voice quiet. “I’ll try to get home early for dinner tonight, alright?”
Huffing, Eric shakes his head. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he mutters.
Ignoring the stinging in his chest at those words, John grabs his keys off the counter. “I love you.”
“...love you too,” Eric mumbles. He sighs, arms dropping, before giving John a kiss. “Please try to make it home in time for dinner.”
A small smile settles on John’s lips. “I will,” he promises.
When John arrives at PEIP HQ, he’s immediately accosted by Xander. “Isn’t today yours and Eric’s anniversary?” Xander demands as they walk down the hall. “What are you doing at work?”
“I still have a job to do, anniversary or not,” John replies as he pulls out a cigarette.
Eric hates his smoking.
John pulls ahead of Xander to head to his office. The ring on his finger glints in the light as he opens the door to his office. Once the door closes, he locks it before heading to his desk.
Breathing out smoke, he drops into his desk chair. He really didn’t need to come in today. His paperwork is caught up, there’s no new developments in the labs, and he’s already read all of the reports he’s received from the agents out in the field.
He knows why he came in. It makes a pit form in his stomach, a gnawing guilt that he can’t shake.
He taps the ash off the end of his cigarette as he contemplates going home. He could stop by the florist, get flowers for Eric. Lilies, definitely. Those are his favorites.
Taking another drag off his cigarette, he moves to stand.
Suddenly, there’s hands on his shoulders, shoving him back into his chair. “Where do you think you’re going, Johnny?
Swallowing heavily, John stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray. “I was just-”
The hands don’t move from his shoulders, squeezing him tightly. “We haven’t even gotten a chance to play yet,” the familiar deep, gravelly voice murmurs in his ear.
“Not today.” John doesn’t beg, but his voice teeters on pleading. “I’m not-”
A sharp bark of a laugh cuts him off. “What makes today any different, Johnny? It’s just another day. If it was that important, you wouldn’t be here waiting for me.”
John hates that he’s right. His head drops in defeat.
“There we go.” The hands leave his shoulder right before his chair spins around. A hand lifts his chin, making him look directly at Wiley. A smirk stretches across his lips before he leans down to catch John’s lips in a heated kiss.
John doesn’t push him away.
He never does.
After Wiley disappears, John quickly composes himself before leaving his office. Everything feels like a blur. Next thing he knows, he’s standing on the doorstep at home, holding a bouquet of lilies for his husband.
He walks inside to find Eric in the living room, reading a book.
Eric glances up before quickly doing a double take. He closes his book hurriedly, tossing it aside before rushing over to John. “You actually came home early!”
The broad smile on his face makes John’s chest ache with guilt. He forces a grin. “Yeah. Figured the office could deal without me for a day.” He offers the flowers to Eric, who takes them with a small gasp. “Here, let me go change and we’ll go out for lunch.”
As he climbs the stairs, John tries to shove down the guilt, swearing to himself this is the last time.
He knows it’s not.