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Harold released a surprised grunt as he outstretched his arms instinctively, John's full weight falling upon his shoulders as the much taller man stumbled forward. —John?— he had initially asked, but as John's body stayed limp against his chest he couldn't contain the worry that seemed to overtake him. —John!— Harold's back protested over the excess weight as he tried to keep John from fully collapsing, instead lowering him to his knees as he imitated the position, grunting in the process. —Oh my god, John— he mumbled as he removed one of the arms John had placed around his shoulder to push him onto his side, leaning him against the corridors wall he had been walking by a second ago to greet said man.
Harold's first instinct was to look for any blood patches against John's abdomen, his gaze moving up to his chest before finally finding John's gaze. Their eyes meeting in the middle, John seeming just as surprised as he was by the widened of his own eyes. —John, talk to me— asked Harold in what could of counted as a whisper, his body towering over John as he placed both of his hands on each of John's shoulders, slightly squeezing them as if trying to bring the man back from what he hopped was shook.
John blinked a few times, the warmth from Harold's hands becoming a distraction as he tried to analyzed what was going on. —I... I'm ok— he managed to mumbled between shaking breaths, one of his hands raising to take a hold of one of Harold's wrist in an attempt to rid of the man's touch, but instead stopped mid air to look at how it was shaking. A phenomenon he wasn't too familiar with, seeing as he was always so precise with his body movement.
Harold seemed just as bewildered as him as they both look at his hand tremble, before their eyes met once more. —John, What happened? You can tell me— he asked in a serious tone, but he could hear the off notes of worry and concern present.
John felt his shoulders drop with a sigh, a sudden surge of tiredness washing over his body as the legs that had been bent up to his chest slowly slid down, outstretching themself between Harold's kneeling down body. —I...I don't know— he mumbled as he blinked, his mind working very hard to even remember what he had been doing before he came to the library. Flashing memories of fights, punches being sent and received, guns being disarmed, gunpowder residue somewhere in the air, and a startled victim he had taken home after it all... oh yeah, he had just concluded a mission.
—There has to be something— mumbled Harold as his eyes started darting around as if searching for an explanation over John's sudden collapse. —Did you get shot and not notice? stabbed?— he asked as his hands started to move around John's body, first down his arms, slightly squeezing his biceps and forearms, before his hands flew to John's chest, opening his coat up, his hands now moving through John's chest, slightly squeezing his ribcage as if searching for any fractured ribs, when no response came from John he them moved down to the other man's abdomen, his open palms pressing in the areas he knew a major organ would sit, waiting for a reaction.
—No... No— mumbled John as he shook his head, a sudden rush of heat raising to his face as his body twitched over any other squeeze, normally he would of pushed whoever was trying to heal him away. Anger and annoyance would serge through his body as he would have tried to get up and walk away from the situation, probably mumble something about not needing help, but as Harold moved his hands down through his thighs and legs he couldn't contain the bubbling laugh that instead filled his chest.
Harold stopped his frantic search for an injury and instead looked up in confusion, his hand staying on John's thighs as he analyzed John's facial expression, there was no pain or anguish, instead there was an expression of endearment and happiness he hasn't seen before. —John? You're starting to scare me— he assured as he scooted forward, one of his hands leaving John's thigh and instead moving to the man's head. —Maybe it's a concussion— he mumbled, but this was more to himself than the half delirious John that looked up at him. As he slightly caressed John's graying hair, first the right side and then the left side, both of his hands now holding onto John's cheeks as he moved the man's head from one side to the next.
John frowned at this, this time taking ahold of Harold's wrists to stop him. —I'm ok Harold— he assured, his voice more natural this time as he looked up at Harold, the proximity becoming an apparent thing as Harold widened his eyes. Slight scooting back to his initial position between John's legs.
—I'm sorry— he mumbled as John released his hands, allowing for him to adjust his glasses, his face moving away as if to hide the bright hues that appeared at his cheeks, but his ears were a dead giveaway of the blush, embarrassment eminent as he fake coughed and directed his gaze back toward John, the man that now smiled up at him in admiration. —I was just worried— he assured as if John would of thought otherwise.
John's mind had finally caught on to what was happening. He has relaxed. Usually after a mission he would spend the next few hours trying to lessen the tension of his shoulders, the aching muscles on his back, the stiffness in his arms, even sitting down was a task after a mission, seeing as his whole body would become rigid like a plank. A natural body response to all the stress he would accumulate over the days, even weeks of constant work.
In the past he would have drank some alcohol, maybe taken a hot shower, do some stretches. Whatever it was he did, it never seemed to work, he would just sit around in discomfort as he pondered new methods to deal with his stress. Yet as of lately he had found a new method. Visiting the library, but his method only worked if Harold was there.
He didn't know when it started or when his mind had caught up, but he took notice on how his body would release some sort of invisible stress when he sat near Harold, a weird sense of safety and tranquility overtaking his chest as he would sit near by. Content with listening to Harold's clicking. Sometimes they would converse about mundane things, such as the weather, a new flavor of tea Harold had found, a new donut John wanted to buy. Whatever the topic was he knew he would feel refreshed afterward.
It was weird to him, to know that just being near the other man he would get this new surge of energy. Sure he would still be physically exhausted, but mentally he would be so energized that dealing with the pains and aches of the day didn't seem as bad. —Thank you— he mumbled in response. Receiving both a confused and astounded expression from Harold. An expression that he knew would now live rent free in his mind. He had known for a bit about this new feeling he had developed for the genius that sat in front of him. It had been a problem for sometime, but it wasn't until a few months ago that he had accepted them. Wondering if maybe, just maybe there was a chance. —Thank you for everything—
Harold mouth took an 'o' shape as he seemed taken aback by this. A smile soon spread across his face as if understanding what was going on. —Come on Mr.Reese. We have to get you into bed. I think you've become too exhausted to function properly— he said as started to get up, very slowly seeing as his back didn't agree with the prolonged kneeling down position. John laughed, as he shook his head, his eyes closing in the process. He just couldn't get over the little things about Harold that he just loved. Such as the way the man always found a way to avert the conversation to something else.
Harold also laughed, as he himself looked down upon John's half sprawled position against the wall. John looking up at him with a set of bright eyes, and that toothy smile that makes his stomach flip, only a few of his pearly white teeth seeping through. —Come on— he urged as he outstretched a hand, one that John took without second thought. He didn't allow for Harold to lift his full body weight, this time using his free hand to support him against the wall. Once in his feet he smiled down at Harold once more.
—I guess I was more tired than I thought— he assured as he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, his other one still being held by Harold who was ensuring he wasn't about to fall once again.
—You work too hard— said Harold in what both knew was supposed to be a compliment. If Harold would have told him this when they had first meet, he would have probably taken it the wrong way and had started defending his actions, but as the years had passed he had known to read Harold's subconscious thoughts, the way his eyes softened as he said such comment, the way the corner of his lip curled up just right, how his head would tilt just slightly. Harold was also looking at him with the same admiration he was looking down at him.
—Only hard enough to keep our numbers at bay— he answered as Harold shook his head. Their hands slowly separating as Harold was about to guide him into their little makeshift sleeping quarters, over the passing of time they had both agreed that sleeping slouched down in the desk or leaning back on one of the wooden chairs wasn't going to cut it, so Harold had installed a small queen sized bed in one of the spare corners, a little nook in the far end of the library, you might have to get a map seeing as it was well hidden, but they both knew exactly where it was, a safe haven for them to share when things got rough and sleep was almost impossible to obtain at their respective safe houses. Never knowing when a quick nap was in order.
—Harold— he called out, quickly taking a hold of Harold hand once more. Causing the other man to turn back around and stare at him, nothing more than concern present in his face. —I... I really need you to understand just how grateful I am for you— he started as he averted his gaze, a slight ping of embarrassment present in his cheeks as heat started to spread through out. —I don't think I say it enough, but thank you for everything. For giving me a new life, a new purpose— he added as he slightly squeezed Harold hand with both of his, his gaze moving to this as if scared to see Harold's facial expressions.
There was silence for a few seconds, before a small chuckle escaped the other man's lips. —You're very welcome John, but I only set the ball in motion— said Harold as he leaned forward, trying to catch John's eyes as he cupped both of John's hands, a reassuring gesture that matched his smile. —You're the one that kept coming back. So it's me who has to thank you for helping me with all of... this!— he said as he shrugged to his back, their little operating room visible with its desk and monitors, the view board filled with the notes of their last case and the huge note board that spread around the room. It hasn't changed much since they've started working together, but there were signs of living things here.
Two empty cups resting by the keyboard, one with Harold's sencha green tea and the other with John's half empty coffee. An empty box of donuts still open on the other side. One of John's missing scarf perfectly folded on the back of one of the chairs and Harold's coat hanged from the other. A stray grenade pushed under one of the bookshelf's as John created a secret stash for an emergency. His duffle bag with his cleaning equipment set somewhere to the far right by the table he had claimed as his for such activity.
It wasn't a perfect place, but it resembled both of their personalities. Allowing for the both of them to be comfortable and have somewhere to call a home.
Home. A word John never thought he could label to anything other than Jessica. Yet he had come to accept the events that had taken him where he was now, accepting to move on and still relinquish the memories he had of her, but now he shared those same feeling for the man in front of him. The man that had saved him. The man he owed his life to.
—So... thank you John, for always coming back— said Harold as he squeezed John's hands, as if trying to translate so many unspoken words between them in that gentle gesture.
John lessened the space between them by leaning forward, not allowing for much air to seep through them as he tilted his head to the side. —I will always come back to you Harold— he promised in a whisper, their eyes staying focused on the other as if trying to communicate many things with just glances.
John could feel a lump forming in his throat, a surge of anxiety rising through his spine and inside his ribcage. Wondering if maybe, just maybe he could truly express the amount of feeling he has been harboring for this man. The amount of gratitude and admiration he held for him. He wanted it all out, he wanted to truly show this man the extent of his love for him.
—John?— mumbled Harold, as if scared his voice was going to shatter the scene between them. John's eyebrows lowered, a slight frown forming between them as regret started to settle in his stomach. What if the other man didn't respond to his feelings? He was probably being polite by not pushing him away right now, presuming that maybe he was being delirious over his exhaustion.
—Harold... I— he couldn't bring the words past the lump in his throat, no matter how hard he swallowed. His mind and heart fighting each other over dominance. He was so scared, not sure of what to do next. The anxiety and the fear overtaking him as his heart pounded hard against his ribcage. Harold's laughter causing said heart to flip, a hand raising and caressing his already close face.
—You know, you should leave the overthinking to me— commented Harold as he used the belly of his thumb to slowly caress some of the stress lines around John's cheeks away. —But if you want to switch roles for a little bit... I guess I wouldn't be opposed— he mumbled as his eyes moved from John's eyes down to his lips.
John didn't get to fathom about what that ment, as Harold closed the space between them. His head tilting as their lips connected in a slow and gentle kiss. Electric sparks running down John's spine as his shoulders tensed momentarily, his mind running miles to comprehend the explosion in his chest and the fireflies in his stomach. Said feelings so overwhelming that he couldn't keep his eyes open as he too leaned into the kiss.
One of his hands releasing Harold's to slowly be placed at the nape of the other man's neck. The tip of his fingers caressing Harold's hairline. Their kiss deepening as if they were both too scared to step back, but they both knew it had to come to an end, Harold being the first to pull back. A breathless laugh escaping him as he struggled to catch his breath. His eyes contained a warmth John hasn't seen in them before.
—Bravery looks good on you Harold— he commented as he slid his hand from Harold's nape all the way over to his chin. The shorter man simply chuckled, his gaze dropping as if shame had taken over him. John couldn't contain the toothy smile that spread across his face, joy overtaking him as he raised Harold's chin with the tip of his fingers, approaching his lips with determination, yet slow enough to allow for the other to stop him if he so wishes to do so.
Their second kiss was more hungry, their lips moving in unison as they closed the space between their bodies, their opposite hands still intertwined between them. Harold hummed as John sighed into the kiss. All the heavy thoughts form the past few cases slowly melting away, his body releasing all tension as his body leaned on Harold's once more. His knees threatening to let go once more.
Harold chuckled as they separated, his sparkly greenish eyes staring up at John who breathlessly smiled down at him, the hand that once held John's cheek now tightly grasped his shoulder, as if holding him up. What John didn't realized was just how exhausted his body was, how much tranquility Harold had brought with him and just how much he craved such tranquility.
—I would love to explore more of this... but I think we should actually take you to bed— he whispered as he took a step back, letting John know just how much of his weight was being put on Harold.
John felt a shy smile expand itself upon his face, embarrassed that he hasn't noticed just how badly he has been needing to rest. Yet, he wondered lightly if this exhaustion came from just how dizzying that last kiss was. His mind muddled up into mush as he still struggled to keep his thoughts straight.
—Will you be joining me?— he asked without much of a thought. His legs dragging him as Harold guided him towards their hidden sleeping quarters, their hands never releasing.
—Usually I would expect a dinner beforehand— commented Harold as he looked back at him, a set of mischievous eyes glancing back at him. —But for you, I might just let it slide— He added with a laugh as they approached the small and cozy room. This one containing a mix match of their possession. Seeing as they both used the sleeping area just as much.
John felt a laugh bubble through his throat, thoughts of the two of them sharing said bed dominating his last few brain cells. He knew exactly what Harold was insinuating, but he also caught the signs that said such thoughts were a temporary joke. Not that he could preform much in his current state, but the thought of the both of them, lying on the soft and plush bed. Legs intertwined and eyes lost amount the others, their forehead pressed against each others, hands still holding on another as the other pair would caress the others hips or abdomen. Oh the thoughts.
He just couldn't wait.