February in New York was bitter cold as Harold made his way to the Library with Bear trotting happily beside him in the early morning. Every store window they passed was done up with pink and red hearts and sales on chocolate seemed to be everywhere. Valentine’s Day was two days out and as much effort as he was putting into ignoring the holiday it still made his heart ache just a little. Just as it had every year.
Grace had loved Valentine’s Day and a part of him still ached for her but the larger part of his heart seemed to long for someone else. Someone he would under no circumstances proposition. That was a line he couldn’t cross; or that’s what he had been telling himself on a loop for what seemed like weeks.
Inside the Library he let himself have a clear breath and pretend like it was any other week in any other month. He had a few hours before John would be in. A perfectly reasonable amount of time to detach from the fantasy of being able to have a February 14th that meant something more to them.
What he saw when he walked to his workstation forced him to rethink that. Pink and red paper hearts were strewn about along with red roses piled high on his desk. In the center of it all was ex-CIA operative John Reese stretched up trying to hang a banner of pastel paper hearts with big block letters that each had something different to say. Be Mine. Call Me. Kiss Me. I Love You.
“Did you decorate for Valentine’s Day?” Finch asked in a voice that he hoped came off more disapproving and incredulous than the panic he was feeling. So much for pretending his heart wasn’t breaking.
John turned around with a crooked grin that Finch was sure had been designed to make him crazy. “Some kids in my building were selling them. Thought the Library could use a festive touch. Do you like them?”
No Finch wanted to say. And I don’t like that you’re lying to me either. Finch knew very well that no one in John’s building had kids. It was a precaution he had gone to great lengths to ensure. Just in case. “They’re very nice,” he said instead. Maybe John was just really into Valentine’s Day. He picked up the armful of roses and moved them to the couch. More likely John had found a reason to enjoy it this year. “However, we have a number.”
John said something about going to change out of his running clothes that Finch barely heard, lost in the flood of emotions. Bear was nosing at the flowers and Finch forced himself to shoo him away. If John wanted to celebrate Valentine’s Day Finch was not going to let Bear eat the decortications. The fact that Finch wanted to tear them apart himself was inconsequential.
The next morning when Bear and Finch walked into the Library John was nowhere to be found but his paper decorations had been added to by a large stack of heart shaped chocolate boxes sitting at his desk. He recognized some of the boxes as specialized chocolate shops from all around the city. Something clenched deep in his heart at the sight of just how hard John was trying for whomever he loved.
Next to them was a paper cup of green tea and a flaky raspberry pastry. He would just have to console himself with knowing that even if he came in second to this mystery person at least he had some part of John for now.
He moved the chocolates to one of the higher shelves of the stacks and out of reach of curious dogs. If he took one of the boxes from his favorite local chocolatier, well John’s mystery love would just have to deal with it. They had a dozen more. And they had John. They’d be selfish to ask for anything more.
Still, he hid the box in the bottom drawer of his desk as John came into the room.
“Morning, Harold,” John said and sipped his coffee.
“Good morning, Mr. Reese. I moved your boxes over there,” Finch said, pointing to the shelf.
“Okay. Kids were selling chocolates this morning. They keep this up and you’ll have to give me a raise.”
Why are you lying? “Well lucky for me they will be out of business after tomorrow. I don’t think there’s much of a market for paper hearts after February 14th,” Harold said and managed to keep his voice steady with just the right amount of humor to make John’s smile turn a little triumphant the way it did whenever he goaded “Mr. Finch” into joking with him.
“You’re the sly business man. Anything in Syska’s financials?”
“Six nine thousand dollar withdrawals over the last month from her dead brother’s savings account. As it turns out she’s the trustee.”
“I think I need to go have a talk with her, don’t you?”
“I think that would be wise. Hopefully she can still call it all off,” Finch said.
“I’m sure we can work something out,” John said before disappearing out of the Library.
“Be careful,” Harold said as soon as John could no longer hear him.
It was Valentine’s Day and Finch was hoping that for once the Machine would stay quiet when he really needed it to. When John needed it to. He had romancing to do. He didn’t need an innocent life to interrupt that. He deserved a night to himself with the lucky person he had chosen.
No phone rang as he passed them on the street and he let himself be hopeful even if it made his hand hold Bear’s leash a little tighter and his heart ache.
Inside the Library was quiet and still but when Bear was off the leash he tore down the hall and Finch knew John was there. Harold took a deep breath and steeled himself. “Mr. Reese, I’m afraid we don’t have a number today. Feel free to take the rest of the day off,” Harold said before he even made it to his desk. He also hadn’t looked at John head on yet. Any amount of eye contact could give him away at this point. His tea was next to his keyboard and he took a too long, too hot drink and burned his tongue just to hide his shaking smile at the sight. At least he had this.
“Trying to get rid of me, Harold, I’m hurt,” John said with a grin that Harold never understood. It was always just a little too warm and a little too shaky. “Hot date?”
“Yes, with the new iOS update. Bluejacking doesn’t just happen like magic.” Harold took a much more reasonable sip this time. He also managed to look at John. He was wearing the suit that Harold had tailored. He couldn’t wash out the bitter taste from the idea that Harold had built the suit around John and someone else was going to get to take it off of him.
Harold sat down at his desk and tried not to show his surprise when John sat down on the couch and opened a book instead of leaving. After half an hour of trying to focus on anything that wasn’t John’s breathing and why he was still in the Library Harold managed to slip into the soft focus that coding allowed him where everything else faded. He drank tea that reappeared by his mouse hot and full whenever he was just starting to get thirsty along with water.
He made it until noon when his back started to protest loud enough for him to listen and decided he could take a break. Testing could wait until after lunch.
John was already watching him when Harold turned to ask him if he wanted to get lunch. It was a soft smile that Harold pretended was actually for him. That was a fantasy he could hold onto for a few more hours it seemed.
“Bear could use the walk. Ready?” John asked as he stood. “We can go to that new bistro that just opened that you wanted to try.”
Harold pulled his coat on while John clipped the leash onto the very excited Bear’s collar. “I don’t like our chances during a Valentine’s lunch rush. We might as well just get take out. There’ll be other days,” Harold said.
John’s face didn’t so much drop as lost a touch of the warmth that was left over from whatever day dream had been occupying him while Finch coded. “Sounds good.”
Why do you keep lying to me? Harold thought to himself.
The thing was it didn’t keep happening. It was only the oddest of times. Talk of the day or the couples on their lunch break was carefully maneuvered away from and it only left one very distressing conclusion for Finch to come to. John knew. John had to know about Harold’s feelings and was trying to save them. Let him down easy so to speak. Sometime in the last two days Harold had given himself away and now John was hiding it from him.
Did John actually think that Harold would begrudge him over finally finding some drop of the oceans of happiness he deserved? Did John think that he would be able to pretend that he didn’t hate whatever person John loved? Did he think Finch couldn’t even try to love them?
After eating his lunch in a pathetically sulky silence Harold went back to his code, running it with every operating system so that at least the part of Harold that John did cherish, the useful bit with access to the numbers, could do its job and still have that bit of love.
He didn’t keep track of the time and only vaguely noticed the disappearance then reappearance of Bear being taken for a walk. He only looked away from his computer when he was sure that John must have left and his hurt feelings were under control.
He was wrong on both fronts.
John looked up from his crossword when he heard the pause in Harold’s typing. It was nearly 9 pm. John should have been long gone. Instead he was looking at Harold like he was waiting for something, maybe bracing for a hit.
“Mr. Reese, it may be none of my business, but shouldn’t you be at dinner? We don’t exactly have a number keeping you away from…” Harold trailed off and was suddenly very aware that he didn’t have the tools for this conversation.
There had been so few he had cared this much about, enough that there was a risk. Nathan had been kind; in the only way he could, to always have a woman with a name waiting. He made them all wait but Nathan had always been itching to leave. Quiet spaces had never been his solace and all it had taken was a mention of their name when he was late and he was out the door and giving Harold enough space that he could remember how to breathe.
With Grace there hadn’t been a break up with words. Just a faked death and some daydreams about finally going home that never came to fruition.
“From what?” Reese asked. He was smiling and there was clear amusement in his voice. But both the smile and the laughing tone reminded him of their first months together, cold and haunted.
“Your Valentine,” Harold said with a sweeping motion to the decorations.
John waited until Harold stopped pretending to look at the offending papers and looked him dead in the eye while he said, “You’re right. There’s nothing keeping me from being with my Valentine all night.”
The words were heavy and for a split second seemed to mean the world to John. It didn’t matter that they were the same words that sent Harold’s own world crashing down around him. There was a Valentine. Sometimes Harold really hated being right.
Harold took a deep breath and tried to smile. “Then why are you still here? Bear and I can manage just fine.”
John’s face closed off and he stood like he was getting ready for battle. Then Harold’s words caught up with him and he corrected himself. Or tried to. Maybe this was the battle John had been bracing for.
“John, you do know that I would never begrudge you having a personal or romantic life outside of me. I know I make poor company more often than not.” Harold tried for a laugh and was proud of himself for it coming out even. Pretending not to have a breaking heart was something he did have the tools for. “I’m sure you vetted them thoroughly but if you do choose to tell them what we actually do, I hope that you will allow me to also check. Maybe even meet them someday. I’m sure they’re lovely.”
John was quiet for a long time. “Harold, do you not know who my Valentine is?”
Harold hated being caught unknowing. Instead of immediately answering he stood and went over to the shelf where he had stacked the chocolate boxes and took them to John who was standing statue still where Harold’s words had frozen him. “I don’t see how I could. You haven’t told me. Those kids in your building wouldn’t want you to forget these.”
John took them. “I thought I was being obvious.”
“Miss Morgan?” Harold guessed.
John laughed at that, loud and easy. “No, not Zoe. Are you being this oblivious on purpose?”
Harold knew that the affronted look on his face was probably comical but he couldn’t help it. His emotions had been raging against his carefully crafted walls and he was using what little self-control he had left not to beg John to break off his love and just pretend with Harold.
John laughed again and Harold couldn’t help his own treacherous grin. “You,” John said but Harold’s mind had already gone off line because John’s lips had touched his.
It happened so fast that Harold was almost sure he had made it up until he saw John looking down at him with open fear.
“John,” he said like a breath. “This was for me?”
“I tried to take you on a lunch date but you wanted take out and then I was going to take you on a dinner date but you worked straight through all three of our reservations.”
“I didn’t know we had reservations,” Harold said and dared to take a step closer to John so they were almost chest to chest.
“And you claim to know everything about me,” John said and he was smiling again.
“My surveillance of you might have gotten a little lax after you saved my life the third time,” Harold said with a grin. “I started to enjoy watching you more than was wise.”
“I like knowing you’re watching,” John whispered. He seemed to hesitate at touching Harold, like there was still some question that Harold might want him.
With all the bravery Harold could muster he put his hands flat on John’s chest and asked, “Can I kiss you?”
He felt rather than heard John’s breath stutter. “Whenever you want.”
Harold wanted right that second. One hand slipped up to cup the back of John’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. John’s hands finally grasped Harold’s hips while his mouth opened and the kiss deepened. Having already thrown every proverbial card on the table he slipped the hand that had been resting on the back of John’s neck down to feel the skin under his collar.
John gave up a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whine from the back of his throat. Warmth left his hips and John’s hand came between them and started to work at his own tie.
Harold pulled himself back far enough to break the kiss and see John abusing the blue silk with increasing frustration when it stayed tied. Harold laughed and batted John’s hands away to start working it loose himself. John busied himself with Harold’s vest.
The tie slid loose as John’s fingers opened the last button of the tweed vest. “John, I think there are better venues for this,” Harold said before John could cover his mouth with his own.
“Not if you change your mind before we get there.”
Harold wanted to laugh but John wouldn’t look him in the eye and he was more than a little worried about John taking it the wrong way. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?”
“About five minutes?”
“Oh, John…” Harold started and they were really going to have to work on John’s habit of cutting him off.
“It didn’t even occur to you that I was a possibility.”
“I didn’t think it was possible to get this lucky.”
John sighed and seemed to want to argue until Harold shushed him. “I have a safe house a few blocks from here that should serve our purposes. Will you come with me?”
John’s grin spread slow and sly across his face. “Of course, Harold.”
“Let me log off. Will you get Bear?” Harold clicked away at his computer for a few seconds and tried to remember how breathing and thinking worked. His throat closed up with excitement every time he thought about John and him alone in the safe house.
John helped Harold into his coat and then handed him Bear’s leash the way he sometimes did if he thought Harold’s back was bothering him. The only difference was when Harold finished locking up the Library door John grabbed his hand and didn’t let go.
The walk was only a block and a half but between the thrumming of nerves and the slow tightening of Harold’s back muscles it seemed to last for hours. He should have taken more breaks and was ready to curse at himself for having his back pain creeping worse on the one night that John was showing him anything more than passing attention.
Finally they walked though the front doors and past a doorman that knew him as Mr. Conure and into a small apartment with one bedroom and a loveseat but not much else.
Bear shot forward and to his dog bed next to the couch the second Harold unclipped his leash. John took off his jacket and craned his neck in an attempt to look around without having to move out of the small entryway.
“Go ahead. You know you want to,” Harold said with a smirk that John returned before stealing a kiss and taking off to search the apartment for God only knew what.
Harold busied himself with his own coat and subtly trying to stretch his back. He set out a fresh bowl of water and some food for Bear. Neither dog parenthood nor backaches were about to ruin his night.
John reappeared still smiling like a madman and ran his hands down Harold chest and under his vest to wrap gently around him. “Satisfied?” Harold asked as he ran one hand through John’s hair and pulled him into another kiss. It was sweet and chaste for only a second before turning desperate and dirty. John’s hands were working off Harold’s shirt while Harold ran his hand over John’s bare chest and back, snuck under John’s shirt without bothering with the buttons.
The feeling was overwhelming and intoxicating. Everything he touched was John. All he could hear were the small noises John kept making. Everything he smelt was John with a touch of book musk from spending all day with Harold in the Library. And that didn’t even start to cover the fact that now he knew what kissing John tasted like and he might never taste anything else again.
Then John finally got his shirt open and moved his attention to Harold’s neck. Harold tried to move his head to make room, something he knew he should have been able to manage, but something tweaked and for a split second Harold’s body tensed and his face twisted in pain. The next second it settled and Harold was back in control of his reactions. The only problem was that now John was half a step away and looking at Harold with his laser focus scowl.
“I’m fine, John,” he said and took that half a step forward.
“You sat for too long,” John said in a cold sort of way. Harold had a bad feeling about this.
“Yes, I should have gotten up at some point in the evening and at least worked my hip. Nothing to do about it now if you still want me to be an active partner.”
John frowned. “You’re in pain.”
“Bit par for the course, John,” Harold argued.
“Will you let me help?”
“I assure you what you are doing will absolutely make me feel better.”
“Harold, please,” John said and it did sound too much like begging and John should never have to beg, not for something from Harold.
“Whatever you want, John. Anything at all, it’s yours,” Harold said with more open and obvious love in his voice than was probably wise.
John’s face lit up though so it was probably worth it. He took a step forward for a quick and chaste kiss, the kind of kiss that people who could kiss whenever they wanted did.
John led Harold into the bedroom and pulled each layer off of him one by one. Jacket, vest, shirt, undershirt, shoes, shocks, pants, then underwear all removed from him with careful and almost reverent hands.
“You’re over dressed,” Harold said, his voice embarrassingly rough.
John’s voice was no better. “Lay down on your stomach. Do you have any lotion?”
“Second drawer in the bathroom.” Harold said and turned to do as John asked. Harold was trying to find a way to lay his neck when John reentered and surged forward.
“Sorry,” he said and then started stacking the pillows and rearranging Harold so he could lay down and keep his neck straight. “Better?”
“Yes,” Harold said. There was rustling from behind him then a dip of the bed and he felt John climb up on top of him, straddling his thighs but hovering and never touching. Harold wanted to touch.
Then John’s hands ran down Harold’s back again, this time careful and on each side of his spine.
John massaged his muscles in the back then arms and neck for what felt like hours of floating happiness, careful caring hands all over his body. John’s hands moved to his legs and feet with the same methodical care. Harold was sure he was making noises but he didn’t feel like forming works so he tried not to worry about it too much.
John rolled him over and somewhere through his honey slow mind he was aware that he was embarrassingly hard and had been ever since John had climbed on top of him. Harold grabbed John’s bare shoulder and pulled him into a long and slow kiss. John was pressed naked up against the whole of Harold’s body.
“Better?” John asked when Harold let him go.
“Couldn’t be better,” Harold said and John’s smile turned to a predatory grin.
“Wanna bet?” Without waiting for an answer he slid down Harold’s body, trailing kisses as he went.
“John, you don’t,” Harold started to say, only to trail off in a moan when John took him in his mouth for a brief second.
“I want to. Do you want me to?”
Harold nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn’t going to be able to look at John if he didn’t want to embarrass himself. Not if John was going to stay settled naked between Harold’s thighs. The weight shifted and he could feel John hovering over him.
John kissed his nose when Harold still didn’t look at him. Harold finally opened his eyes to see John right above him and smiling warm and bright enough to make Harold’s chest ache. “Use your words, Harold.”
Harold grinned back up at him with his own smile. “Yes, I want you to suck my cock, John.”
John groaned and his hips stuttered down to grind against Harold.
“That works too,” Harold said and moved his arms around John and down to grab the ass he had been ogling for months.
John laughed, kissed Harold hard then pushed himself back down between Harold’s legs. He didn’t tease this time and just took Harold down. All he could do was thread his fingers though John’s hair while he continued to suck and lick and swallow.
This time he knew he was babbling words but it was almost exclusively John’s name and the occasional deity and a please. He bit back every endearment that he wanted to spew. My dearest, my darling, my love. He also managed to pull John’s hair a little and warn him “John, I’m going to…” only for John to hollow his cheeks and Harold to come in his mouth.
When Harold was done John rested his forehead against Harold’s good hip and tried to catch his breath. He pressed kiss after kiss against what skin he could without moving while Harold was trying to work out how to talk without sounding like a complete idiot who couldn’t enjoy an orgasm without saying he loved the other person.
He quickly figured that one out when he realized John was jerking himself off.
“John, no, let me,” Harold said, his hands trying to find purchase enough on John’s shoulders to pull him up.
“Harold, you don’t have to… just…”
“I want to.” Harold let himself laugh. “Sound familiar?”
John surged up and kissed Harold hard.
“Just,” Harold stared to say but John was looking at him with such open trust that it made Harold’s confidence waiver. “Kneel over me and feed me your cock. It’ll be easier than rearranging at this point.”
John didn’t seem interested in the logic as he climbed up Harold’s body until he had his knees were on either side of Harold’s head and he was holding on to the headboard for dear life. “Are you sure?”
“Are you going to make me beg?” Harold’s hands came up to grip John’s hips and move him so that Harold could finally get John’s cock in his mouth.
John’s eyes screwed shut and Harold wished they would open again. He hadn’t known until John had started to jerk himself that he wanted to look John in the eye while Harold stared up past the naked expanse of his body and sucked his cock.
John didn’t last much longer after that anyway. And as he came he opened his eyes to stare at Harold as he sighed his name.
As careful as he always was with Harold he climbed off and laid down next to him. Harold was still riding high on his orgasm and the chance to finally share one with the man he loved and that was why he slowly enough not to spook John he grabbed his hand and brought it to his mouth and kissed each knuckle. It certainly helped that with every feather light kiss John seemed to relax further. “Harold?” John asked when Harold lowered his hand back to the mattress but didn’t let go.
“Yes?”
“Was this a one time thing?” John asked, his voice taking on the empty ring of his false relaxation.
“Only if you want it to be,” Harold said. He didn’t have time for the fear or heartache to set in before John was interrupting him again.
“I don’t. I mean…I want you. All the time. If you don’t that’s okay, I’ll take what I can get.” John laughed with all his fake bravado.
“I’m afraid I’m not very good at casual. I’d want a romantic relationship,” Harold explained.
“You want to be my boyfriend.” The grin was snaking back into his voice.
“I’m not overly fond of that term but yes.”
“I want that too.” John leaned over him and kissed him quickly as if to prove that now he could. “You know what else I want.”
“What?”
“Dinner.”
Harold let out a surprised laugh as John grinned.
Within an hour they were eating Chinese food naked in bed and then fell asleep in each other’s arms. Harold was learning to love Valentine’s Day again.