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Nikolai was not an anxious man. After all he’d lived through, he would argue he was one of the most composed people he knew. Rarely did his calm smile break into anything else (either laughter or tears), and when it did, he kept it to himself.
But, when he woke up in a hospital bed, memories blurry, his carefully constructed display collapsed in only a moment.
Nikolai clawed at the tubes stuck into his arm, until blood began to bead at the entry point. He was gasping for air, pulling and pulling until the IV tore free. He wasn’t staying here, not by any fucking stretch of the imagination. He’d rather off himself right here than rot in some Ultranationalist’s camp.
Next, he reached for the ECG machine set up at his other side. Scanning it, he eventually found the button which would disable it. He shut it off without a second thought, hands already dropping to his chest to remove the leads.
After counting twelve, Nik turned his attention to the more urgent issue of escape.
Nikolai checked his pockets, ignoring the pain that rippled through his now-free arm as he searched.
No phone, no knife. Just keys.
He snatched a tissue from a box discarded at his side, using it to blot at the blood still coming from his arm, as he stood.
Nik had barely taken two steps before he had hands on him again.
“Nik! Fucking hell, Nik, don’t—” John reached over his shoulder to punch the ‘call nurse’ button, once, twice, thrice, as he pushed Nikolai back down onto the bed.
“…yer fine, Nik, Jesus Christ, what’re you thinking?” John held him in place until he stopped thrashing against him. “Yer safe, just…” John took a deep breath, watching as the man under his hands slowly did the same, “…just rest, yeah? More ye rest, quicker you can get out of here.”
Nikolai settled as John’s hand shifted from around his biceps to gently on his shoulders. John kept his hand in place, gently rubbing, as two nurses came into the room.
He was less focused on what they were doing to him, and more on John’s voice in his ear, just repeating, “yer fine, yer safe”. It was a softness that felt a little foreign coming from the other man, but Nikolai ignored it in favour of the exhaustion that was a suddenly overwhelming force on his body.
Before Price could let himself properly focus on the other man slowly drifting off, the clipped, somewhat impatient tone of one of the two nurses in the room cut through the sudden peace.
“Now, sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Family only, at the moment.”
Price looked over at the man and scowled. Blue-scrubbed fucker trying to tell him he couldn’t stay to keep his.. friend company.
“Military protection, shut your arse,” he scowled, not moving from his position at Nikolai’s side. It wasn’t true, per se, but he’d rather
If the nurse replied, Price didn’t hear it, having busied himself with tucking Nikolai back beneath the duvet. He waited until the room was empty to finally sit down beside Nikolai.
Truth was, it was Price’s fault they were here. His mission, his orders, led one of his closest friends into a crash landing. Trying to keep him safe, no less, is what had put Nikolai in danger in the first place. And instead of protecting him, Price had nearly killed the man. Two bruised ribs, second degree burns down his back, nine breaks in four fingers, lacerated liver.
Price set down the card he had bought on the small table next to his chair. He’d argued with the staff until they agreed to move Nikolai to a private room, rather than a bed with flimsy curtains that were left open more than they were shut.
In the privacy of the room, John finally let out the breath he had been holding ever since he had carried Nikolai into the hospital. When he had first found Nikolai, and gathered him into his arms from the smouldering remains of the UH-60, Price had had the brief thought that it was a corpse that he clutched.
He watched Nikolai’s chest rise and fall. With each breath, Price calmed a little more.
Nikolai woke up to John’s eyes still on him. Blearier, now, sure, and fluttering closer to shut, but still there, watching, waiting.
“…John?” He reached out, patting around with his undamaged hand until he made contact with what he assumed was the Captain.
“..huh—? Yeah, yeah, Nik, ‘m… I’m here, okay?”
John took his hand into his own, gently running a calloused thumb over the knuckles.
His eyes threatened to snap shut as he watched Nikolai smile up at him. John’d been up for hours, waiting, watching, in the hopes Nikolai would wake up once more.
And that just made it all the worse that he couldn’t keep his eyes open now. He barely followed the words as they came out his own mouth.
“…d’you mind if.. if I sleep, Nik? …Wanted te be up te talk, but—”
If Nikolai was honest, the answer was yes, he did mind, because he doesn’t want to be alone right now he wants to be with someone he can trust he wants someone to watch over him he wants John it was easier to have someone who can translate at his side.
But, looking at the redness of John’s eyes, he hung that thought up and shook his head.
“It is fine. Sleep, John.”
He didn’t pull his hand from John’s, clutching the other man’s hand tightly as he drifted to sleep in his seat.
Moving slowly, so as not to aggravate his breathing further, he reached to pick up the card that John had left by his side.
The handwriting was smudged, and hurried, but he could parse parts of it, at the very least.
“Nik,
I’m sorry you [smudged] because of me. Feel like I’ve been putting [smudged]. ahead of [smudged], and I’m sorry. Truth is, I really [smudged] you, but the thought of [smudged]. But I’ll [smudged], for you.
Get well soon, m[smudged].
Always [smudged],
John.”
Maybe more than half of it would have been legible if not for the man’s left-handedness, but he read over the card again and again nonetheless.
If Nikolai was in any better a state of mind, he wouldn’t have let himself begin to imagine what the rest of the card said. He wouldn’t have convinced himself that John had claimed he cared for him, that John loved him.
Because he loved John. More than anything. And if he let himself hope, and it wasn’t true, then… Nikolai wasn’t sure he would move past it.
He sat himself up, carefully, just enough to be able to watch John dozing. He’d come so close, too close, to never being able to hear those snores again. Never being able to watch John’s sternness melt away as exhaustion took over.
It was in that moment Nikolai decided he would not let himself die without telling John how he felt first.
-/-
“Nik?”
“Yeah?” Nikolai asked, looking over at John as he settled into the other man’s car. He’d just been discharged, and John had jumped at the opportunity to drive him home.
“…Know ye can’t drink, because of yer,” he gestured vaguely to Nikolai’s entire state, “everything, but I thought, uh, you might wanna go out fer a meal? Better than, uh, sittin’ in bed miserable. My treat.”
‘Da. That would be nice, John.” He smiled at the Captain as they pulled away. “Can we go straight there?”
“Yeah, yeah, ‘course. It’s, uh,” John rapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he thought, “ten minutes out.” John took a hand away to turn the CD player on. Normally, Nikolai would have objected to John playing his CDs (frankly he wasn’t even sure it deserved to be called music), but after the week he’d had, he didn’t have the energy to intervene.
As they pulled into the car park of the restaurant, Price walked around the car to Nikolai’s door. He took Nik’s hand, helping him to step out of the car.
“Ain’t the best place, but the burgers’re good,” he smiled. It was one of those full smiles, that Nik adored, where the edges of his cheeks met the corners of his eyes and little wrinkles formed as he grinned at Nikolai.
The section they were seated in was empty, save for the two of them, and they were handed their menus promptly.
“…John, what is good?” Nikolai asked.
“Well, I mean, it depends, there’s—” he looked to his side (they’d been put in a booth, and it was easier to just sit together than try and decide who sits where) and saw Nikolai already beginning to tune him out despite his best efforts to pay attention, and decided for a more straightforward answer. “Try the house burger. ‘s whot I’m having,” he said.
Price ordered for the both of them, as well as two waters. Didn’t seem fair to drink if Nik couldn’t, after all.
“Kate’s been asking after you. Told her yer recoverin’ fine, but still a little under.”
“I will visit her soon.”
“Good.”
“...”
“...”
Fucking hell, was Price craving anything that’d help this conversation from where it had ground to a standstill. He silently cursed Nikolai’s stupid liver.
He was midway through his second curse to the organ when he was interrupted by Nikolai himself.
Nik had turned to better face him, sipping on his water as he tried to figure out the latter half of his question. “John,” he started, waiting for Price to turn to him before continuing. Nikolai set his glass down and ran a slightly shaking hand through his hair. “I have been thinking a lot, lately.”
“Wouldn’t expect anyfing less from you, mate. Whot about?”
Nikolai swallowed. “You. I, uhm, I… You can say no, of course. I know we have made our jokes, but, uhm,” he paused. John’s eyes were on his, and it was taking some hard fucking work not to get lost in them.
“Take yer time,” John said. Gods, his smile was sickeningly sweet.
“…I thought, uhm, when I was there, that I would die. And I was scared that if I did not tell you this now, I would not get the chance.”
John just nodded, relegating himself to silence to give the other man space to gather himself.
“I think I love you.”
Fuckin’ hell, that was not what Price had expected. He opened his mouth to speak, but upon no words coming out, shut it again.
Love was a word. A strong one, that Price took great care not to use freely. He loved splitting whiskey late at night in his office, he loved cigars that cost triple his annual income, he loved walks through fields when nobody was around to question how close he was stood to his friend. He loved never having to watch his back, because he knew someone who would always be at it.
He loved the faint smell of cologne, actual cologne, of sandalwood and pine, faintly entwined with motor oil. He loved knowing he was safe when his name was spoken, because the way the ‘J’ rolled in Nikolai’s—
Price broke himself out from his train of thought, to see Nikolai still watching him nervously.
“…I do not mind if you do not return my feelings. Just do not leave me to wait any—“
Arms slung around his neck as John practically threw himself towards the other man.
“…always you, Nik, always fuckin’ you, nobody else. Couldn’t ever be, Christ, Nik, can— can I kiss you?”
John moved slightly back, giving him the space he needed to nod and lean forwards just enough for their lips to brush.
“Da.”
It was John who closed the gap, pulling Nik down just enough to connect them together. He brought his unbroken hand to gently stroke John’s jaw, hand pushing through his beard. He let himself savour the view of John’s eyes so close to his own. He closed his eyes in order to commit the sight to memory. John shuffled closer to him, and he soon felt a second hand also at the back of his head.
John’s lips were soft, and the feeling of them moving against his own finally, after so long, was enough to make him pull away just enough to gasp out “John, moya dorogoy, never leave.”
He pulled John back closer to him after another moment, this time just to hold him tight to his chest. His back was against the wall, and his arm squished between John and the booth’s plush back, but he couldn’t care less.
“I love you, Nik. Have done from the first day I met ya,” John mumbled into his shoulder. “I’ve always been yours. Always.”
Nikolai held him in silence, craning his neck to press another kiss to his crown.
“…and I will always be yours.”