"John?" called Finch getting up and uneasily hobbling to the en suite; he ached all over and was worried about John. He got near the door and heard the water start up; he wondered if John was already in it. He pushed open the door to find John stood checking the water temperature. He half smiled then climbed in; Finch followed suit and climbed in but kept his distance from John to which John clearly wanted; he didn't though. He washed himself as quickly as possible then got out finding a towel for himself and one for John, who turned off the water and stepped out. He passed him the towel, "Thanks…" was all he said.
"What's wrong, John?"
"Nothing."
"You swore you would never lie to me."
"Ok, something is wrong," he started and walked out the door as Finch followed, "but I need to get it straight in my head first."
Finch feared this was going to be rejection or the end. "Ok, shall I dress and leave you to think?"
"Could you?"
He wanted to scream 'no' but said, "Yes."
He found a vest, jumper, trousers and new boxers and dressed as quickly as possible not looking at John. He found his slippers and put them on, "I'll be in my study; it's the door to the left." and he started to walk out.
"Finch?"
He turned back, "Yes?"
"I'm sorry."
Finch just nodded, why was he sorry already? What was about to happen?
Finch walked through to the study, he found the chair and sat down, then wheeled himself up to the desk. He leant his elbows on the table, hands on his face, and then it hit him he didn't have his glasses on. Great, now he couldn't even read, so he opened the desk draw and got out his iPod. He put in the headphones and skimmed through the songs trying to find one to cheer him up, even a little. But it was all classical songs, love songs or depressing songs, he noted to himself to add new songs that were a bit happier. He resumed his position with hands on his head; it wasn't comfortable but he was in a large amount of pain anyway.
Time slipped by, it soon had been two hours since he left John in the bedroom, the songs were ever increasingly depressing, and he felt worse. He hadn't felt this bad in a long time. He ran his hands through his hair -it had grown longer - he needed it cut. When he did his hair it looked stupid, now with such a spike but John never complained; he liked playing with his hair, it seemed. He felt a presence behind him and turned his chair around, and standing by the door was John.
He pulled out his headphones, "Hi."
"Hey, you ok?" asked John.
"Not really."
"I'll make it better once we've talked."
Finch felt a little hopeful, John wouldn't say that if he was going to end it. He patted the desk for John to sit by him and he did.
"Finch..." he started then paused, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be funny with you but... I'm not used to a partner like you."
Finch just looked at him waiting for him to carry on
"Unresponsive."
It hit Finch, "Unresponsive? How?" he asked putting up his defenses. He'd run it all through his mind over and over, what didn't he do?
"I know you're a private person but I thought I'd have got more from you. Noises... Moans... Calling my name, but I got nothing."
Finch moved back to his previous position, elbows on table, hands covering his face and he started to cry. He hadn't done those things but he was trying to concentrate and control the awful pain, but he'd upset John doing it. He felt John's hand on his neck, "Finch," he said, "come on, talk to me, please."
Finch looked up at John.
"Finch... My god... Come here," and he pulled him into him, but Finch resisted. "No." was all he could say.
"Why?"
Finch bit his lip; he felt he would snap if he spoke.
"Finch, please. I know I've upset you but I know its been a long time for you since you were with someone, but we can change this."
This burnt Finch, "Change it? How the hell can you change it?"
"I said we can."
"No we can't." he lost it and was shouting, "Do you have any idea how much pain I'm in from doing that? And how much it hurt during?" he paused for breath, "No you don't. I had to concentrate on what I was doing or I'd have lost it and you'd have got nothing. Would you have preferred that? Then you would have felt pity for me, for the old, crippled geek. I'd rather die." He has now crying again and John grabbed him tightly in his arms, and smoothed his hair. Finch felt calm in John's arms, his shouting moment gone out of him. All he wanted to do was love him again.
"Finch, I don't know of your pain or what brings it on and I am sorry, but I didn't mean to make you feel I was attacking you with it, because I'm not. I love you but you need to crack your shell and let me in."
"But if I told you I was in pain you'd have made me stop, and I don't let my pain run my life. Not anymore. Even less so since you came into my life."
"Ok. But you're not old or crippled. You're... You're special." John said nodding.
"Special?"
"Yes, and not at all old."
"If you say so, I feel it at times."
John just smiled.
"Are we ok? I don't want to ruin what we have." Finch said feeling slightly insecure
John pulled back in and leant into Finch. "We're fine." and he kissed him, "I love you but you do need to let me in sometimes."
"I'll work on it."
"No, we'll work on it. It's not just you anymore, it's us."
"Ok, we'll work it out. I love you."
"Good." said John as he stood up stretching.
"Are you going?"
"Do you want me to?"
Finch stood quickly and grabbed him, "no, no I don't."
"Ok then, I'll stay." and he hugged him. "Did it hurt a lot?"
"A fair bit but I... I needed you... I needed to show you how much I need you…here...with me."
"I need you too."
They stood hugging in silence for a little while.
"I'm thinking I'll cook us some dinner, you hungry?" asked Finch.
"You'll cook?"
"Yes I cook, and?"
"I meant you'll cook... for me?"
"Yes, why?"
"That's... Different for me. Normally I cook for people."
"Well this time you can play the guest."
"Sounds wonderful." smiled John.
"Ok I'll find my glasses." he pulled John down and kissed him again, "Come on then." he smiled and took his hand, leading him to the bedroom.