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“Yes, but that’s not what you said.”
Asher’s smile became a grin. “I knew it.”
Harry sighed. He wanted to rage and maybe throw Asher overboard, but he couldn’t with his sore ribs and all... “You are unbelievable.”
He laughed. “You can’t declare your undying love for me and then be mad at me in the same breath. That’s not how this works.”
Harry patted down his pockets and looked around the boat. “Ugh. I don’t even have a gun.”
Asher grinned. “Lucky for me. Lucky for you too that I’m a better shot from a mile away.”
Harry pulled him in close and wrapped his arms around him. “Means I have to keep you close.”
Asher hugged him back, sighing into Harry’s neck. “You better.”
* * *
Harry kept thinkingabout something Asher had said some weeks ago, about knowing your identity in your bones, where you come from, the place you call home. And Harry had been away for so long, so estranged from anything homelike, he didn’t really know if Australia was his home anymore.
Until he flew into Australian airspace, and not much later put his feet on Australian soil, that he understood.
He was home.
That sense of place, that familiarity. It warmed his chest and settled in his bones.
Home.
Sydney didn’t feel right, though. Sure, it was good to be back. There were so many familiar sights but so much had changed as well.
Maybe it was Harry that had changed.
They hadn’t accomplished much in the two days since they’d arrived. They were staying at a very fancy five-star hotel in the city. No more shady motels with indeterminate stains and inexplicable smells. Not anymore. Asher had chosen a car too. A Jaguar, just like the one he’d driven from Madrid to Gibraltar: black, sleek, and one Harry barely fit in. But killing time waiting for Yunho to call, Harry wanted to show Asher the sights of Sydney. They were at Bondi Beach, of all places, sitting on the grassy bank eating overpriced ice creams, watching people throw frisbees or kick a ball, surf, jog.
“Do you think people know?” Asher asked. “People like these. Do you think they know the world that we come from exists? Murder, espionage, blackmail. Being shot at, running for your life. Shooting people for money.”
“In books and movies,” Harry replied. “Not in real life. At least I hope not.”
“I hope not too.” They were quiet again until they finished their ice creams. “How does it feel?” Asher asked him. “To be back.”
“Strange,” he admitted. “Good, but different. Australia feels right. Sydney, not so much.” He looked at Asher then. “I know what you mean now, about feeling where I come from. I mean, I think I knew before. But it sits right here in the solar plexus.”
Asher smiled. “I’m glad you have that.”
“I want you to have it too.”
He smiled out at the Pacific Ocean. “I don’t have it anywhere, Harry. No country, no home, remember?”
“Do you think you could have it here, one day, with me?”
Asher’s cheeks tinted pink and he nudged his shoulder to Harry’s. “I don’t think my home was ever a place, Harry. I think that’s what this whole mess has taught me. I spent so many years longing for a normal life, for a home. But home for me was never a place or a country or a flag. It’s a person. And wherever he decides feels right for him, that’ll be okay with me.”
Harry stared at him, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. “Asher...” His words. His heart. “I love you too.”
Asher’s whole face lit up and he laughed. “Was that what I said?”
“It absolutely was.”
Before Asher could reply, their phones beeped in unison.
It was Yunho.
It was time.
