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Harry cringed. “God, do you have to say it like that?”
Asher opened his eyes to stare at Harry. “Need I remind you of what you said to me when you were fucking me?”
Harry pulled his boot off. “No, thanks. I’m fine. And that’s different. That’s in the heat of the moment, not in conversation.”
Asher laughed. “I cannot believe you are a prude. Harry Harrigan is a blushing prude.”
“No I’m not. I just don’t—”
“You have a filthy mouth when you say it to me but then get all embarrassed when I say it back to you.” He sighed with a smile. “It’s actually kinda cute.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Harry started on his other boot, a bit gentler with his still sore ankle. “We need food, and we need a plan. We need to figure out how long we’re here for, and where we go next?”
“Our plan,” he said, “is to wait for Four to let us know how and when we’re leaving. He said it could be a few days. So we sit tight. Maybe find a store for some new clothes and a laundromat.”
Harry slowly pulled his boot off, then his socks. He stood up and walked to the bathroom. “Food first. I’m starving.”
“No, first you need to tell me if the shower is big enough for two. Or am I staying right here?” Then he shivered. “Actually, too bad if it’s small. I’m cold now you’re not here.”
Asher followed Harry into the bathroom. The shower wasn’t exactly big enough for both of them, but that didn’t stop them.
* * *
As they walked downto the esplanade where they’d found a grocery store, Harry didn’t know what to expect from Muscat. He’d never thought about the place before now, certainly never been there, but what he didn’t expect was an azure-coloured bay, palm trees, wide streets, and a whole tourist destination.
Again, he found himself looking at the architecture, at the white buildings that reflected the heat, the tiles, the marble, the pointed arches. Arabian and Portuguese influence, and a few thousand years of history.
Then he realised what he was doing, and he grumbled. “For fuck’s sake.”
“What’s the matter?” Asher looked around, taking in their surroundings with laser focus.
“No, nothing like that.” Harry shook his head. He actually felt safe here. The sun, the warm ocean breeze. Then he realised that he just noticedthat, then got even more annoyed at himself. “You know what? I blame you. I just noticed the architecture. Appreciated it, even. And the breeze. And the azure water. I’m not even fucking kidding.Azure. In my head, I called it azure. I have never said that word in my life.”
Asher laughed. “And this is my fault?”
“One hundred percent.” Harry bit into his apple and spoke around his mouthful. “You made me look at the architecture in Algiers. Now it’s something I notice.”
Asher was clearly delighted by this. “Then you’re welcome. Which do you prefer?”
“They’re both different. You can’t compare them. Each has its own history.”
“Oh, and now you’re an expert on history.”
“Shut the fuck up. You started this.”
Asher laughed again, and they continued their walk back to the motel, bickering and laughing the whole way.
Harry had forgotten what it was like to have actual conversations with people. He’d forgotten what it was like to enjoy someone’s company. He’d spent the last ten years of his life alone, either keeping his head down or looking over his shoulder for so long, he’d forgotten what it was like to look up.
He’d scoffed at Asher’s admission that he wanted a ‘normal life’ and now Harry was thinking maybe, just maybe, he might like that too.
However unlikely it was. Hell, it was unlikely they’d even survive the mess they were in, let alone have any chance at normalcy afterwards.
And then it occurred to Harry that he’d just included Asher in his plans forafterwards.
Would Asher even be in his life after all this shit? Or would he just walk away? Would they go their separate ways? Should they?
