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“Pretty sure you did. You said I was the best shot on the market.”
“Now I know you’re lying, because I’m the best shot on the market.”
“Oh, maybe it was me who said you were the best. I can’t remember now.”
Asher laughed and leaned over as far as his sore ribs would allow. He pointed to his lips, and Harry happily obliged by kissing him softly.
“You must be hungry,” Harry said. “Want me to go find something? Or do you want to get up?”
“I want to get up. I can’t believe I fell asleep like that.”
“You had a big day. After four days of barely being able to move, all the travelling today was a lot for you.”
“I’m sick of being like this.”
“I know, but you’re getting better,” Harry said, tracing a gentle hand through Asher’s hair. “Every day you’re better than the day before. You’ll be back to yourself in no time. Annoying the shit outta me before you know it.”
Asher smiled. “I hope so. Help me up?”
“Sure.” Harry jumped off the bed and slowly helped Asher to his feet, only for Asher to wrap his arms around Harry. He pressed his face into Harry’s chest, his neck, and held him tightly.
“Just a hug,” he mumbled.
Harry slid his arms around him, gentle, careful, and held Asher in a warm embrace. It wasn’t the kind that led to anything more. It was the kind of hug that fed his soul. He could feel parts of himself long thought broken starting to come back to life, to knit back together. Healing. Soothing.
“Feels so good,” Asher mumbled. “Thank you.”
“It does,” Harry whispered. And the wordsI love youwere right there, surprising him, scaring him. He didn’t say them out loud. He almost did. He could have.
Probably should have.
He’d never said them to anyone. Yet he wanted to say them to Asher.
“You okay?” Asher asked, pulling back. “You froze up. I didn’t mean to make—”
“No,” Harry said quickly. He cupped Asher’s tender, still-bruised face. “I just... Oh, Asher. I’m just really glad you’re okay, and holding you now, like this, it just... I’m not very good with words. I have no experience in talking about shit like this.” He sighed, embarrassed. “I’m just really glad you’re okay. That we’re okay, that we made it this far.”
The corner of Asher’s lips curled upward in a half smile. “I’m glad too. I’m glad I didn’t shoot you in Madrid. I’m glad I decided to let you tag along.”
“Tag along?”
He grinned. “Yep.”
“Well, would you look at that. You’re back to annoying me already.”
He slowly raised his hand to cup Harry’s cheek. “I have no experience in talking about shit like this either, just so you know. But I’m glad we made it this far too. And I’m glad you said you’d stick with me. Because if it weren’t for you, Harry, I don’t know what I would have done.”
Harry pressed his lips to Asher’s in a soft, warm kiss. “You’d have been fine, baby.”
Harry knew he’d said the wrong word as soon as he said it. As soon as Asher’s eyes lit up and his smile became a grin. He held the side of his face, his swollen jaw. “Baby?”
“It just came out. Sorry.” The truth was, he’d called Asher that a few times but mostly when he was out of it. When Harry was tending to his injuries or carrying him to safety. When Harry was in protective-mode and Asher needed him... Now it just rolled right off his tongue.
“Did you call me baby?” Asher was so freaking happy. “I’m sorry, I think I misheard you. Could you repeat that?”
“I said,” Harry enunciated slowly, “shut the fuck up.”
* * *
