Tumblr about my stories: JaimiStoryTeller
Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!
Lots of thanks to NoOrdinarySouthernGirl for all of her help
John's POV
A warm feeling fills him as he wakes. For the first times in months he feels content. Maybe he should have come to his brother's flat sooner. Stretching lazily on the bed, he debates about getting up for a shower before dinner, but decides to just stay in bed relaxing. One thing he loves about here is the fact the room is both sound and scent proof so there is nothing to bother his senses.
He is startled when there is two sharp knocks at the door. His brother or flatmate would have just walked in, 'Bastian would have put a pattern to his knocks, working on his morse code. So who could be at his door? Maybe it is one of the omegas or betas who works here giving him a message from the other two.
Standing, he stretches again as he walks across the room to the door. Reaching out, he pulls it open to see what the person on the other side needs. He is not expecting to see his mate and can do nothing more than stare at the tall blonde standing there.
"James?" He whisper disbelievingly, one hand gripping the door to keep him upright, the other hesitantly reaching towards his mate until he remembers that his mate had not wanted him to touch him in the last two years.
c~o~O~o~ↄ
James' POV
The first sight of mate in actual light since the injury that brought him home from the war has him studying his face intently. His John has lost weight, his eyes are tired, there are stress lines around the younger man's lips and eyes, and his sandy blonde hair is already streaked with shimmering silver. As his eyes travel down the younger man, he can see even more clearly the weight loss and the illness his love must has been going through.
How could he have been such an idiot and forgot the trauma his mate had already survived prior to their meeting? He had promised to always take care of him and yet he has not.
When the smaller man first reaches for him, he thinks everything will be alright. Then his mate stops himself inches away before withdrawing into himself, a tremble shaking his slight body.
"James?" the soft voice is lower than normal, disbelief and hope warring in his scent.
"Hello John," he murmurs, eyes searching to see if he is welcome.
It is only due to quick reflexes that he is able to catch the smaller man as he faints, his body falling forward. Carefully he lifts him, stepping the rest of the way into the room and using his heel to shut the door as he strides over to the bed. Gently, he lays the younger man down, debating about whether to curl up next to him or not. The choice is made for him when John whimpers as he moves away, a sound that tears through him like a knife.
"Shhhh, love, I'm here, just let me get my boots and coat off and we can cuddle," he reassures the smaller man, voice nearly breaking.
With speed born of years in the service, he takes his boots off, coat, and heavy long sleeves, setting them aside, before stretching out on the bed and pulling his mate against his chest. His mind is full of self-hate and anger at the harm he has so obviously caused his precious omega. Gently, he strokes one hand down the smaller man's back, his nose pressed against the crown of his head, just breathing in that scent he had missed far more than he realized.
It takes him several minutes to realize that there has been a change to his scent. A very small change, at this point more of a hint than something definite, but there none the less. Dragging in several deep breathes, his mind works to process the change, breaking his scent apart. There is the John scent he is achingly familiar with that is like coffee, home, and gun oil. There is the touch of his scent, as it has been since the day they bonded, like desert sand. Now there is something just beneath that seems like a blending of the two but not the type of blending brought on by bonding since it has its own unique aftertone.
His mate's pregnant, he realizes, with a child conceived during his last heat.
Unbelievable joy and stark terror race through him as he kisses the short silvering blonde hair. What if his mate doesn't forgive him? There is a whole group of alphas ready to take care of him. That havebeen taking care of him. What if he has harmed the chances of this being a successful pregnancy with his behavior? What if he accepts him back but forces him to live in a different room or flat? That would hurt worse than any damage he suffered in the war. They were having a pup of their own! It had been years since they discussed it, but he does remember that his mate loves pups. It was another thing they were going to discuss when he got home only never did because of his foolishness. There is a lot he needs to make up for apparently.
Small movements are the first sign his loves coming back to.
Mumbling, his eyes still firmly shut, his mate says, "For a minute I thought James was here, but that's not possible, he doesn't want me anymore."
"You're wrong, John, I do want you," he whispers against the smaller man's head, pressing his lips to the crown of it once more.
Pulling back slightly, the younger man's grey eyes are wide as he stares at him, "James?" he repeats, "But it's not that time yet," he mutters, "You haven't come to see me except for my heats since you got back." His eyes drift shut, "Did I lose a month somewhere? Jim and Sherlock say I have been losing time due to blackouts."
The hand that had been stroking his mates back traces up it one last time before gently cupping his love's cheek. "You haven't lost time, it's not your heat, and I really am here." His voice is soft. Inside, his heart feels like it is shattering into a million pieces over the pain his omega is definitely feeling, and he can now feel because he is not blocking. Guilt is shredding him worse than anything the five could have said.
Sadly his omega mutters, "I don't understand," with a shake of his head.
Pressing his lips against his forehead once more, he explains, "I came back to London because I realized how much I missed you. I could feel a pull that wanted, needed, me to come back." Pressing their foreheads gently together he continues, "I had not realized I was hurting you. I was trying to protect you, but I failed miserably. I'm sorry." Closing his eyes he whispers, "I'm so, so sorry."
Several long minutes pass in silence before his mate snuggles up close to him, head resting on his shoulder. Closing his eyes, he rests his head on top of his mate's and simply breathes him in.
He is slightly startled when there is a morse code knocking of 'dinner' on the door.
"Dinner time," his mate states calmly as he wiggles to a sitting position.
"Morse code?" he queries as he sits up, ignoring how self-conscious he was currently feeling over his scars being easily seen by his mate. He did not care about everyone else except his mate's opinion.
"'Bastian does it so I can get practice, he says it's useful to know. Jim and Sherlock like the codes I come up with," the younger man answers. Getting to his feet, the smaller man sways for a moment before straightening out, "Let's go eat."
Slowly he nods, getting to his feet and standing next to his mate.
Just before they step out the bedroom door the younger man turns to look at him questioningly, "Did you mean it?" There is hesitation and fear in his scent.
"Yes," he replies nearly instantly, staring down at his beautiful eyes, "I meant every word. I will understand if you cannot forgive me. At this point I am not sure if you even should."
A smile curves his mate's lips moments before his arms wrap firmly around him and hug him tight, voice softly stating, "Of course I'll forgive you, you're mine."
As his arms close around the smaller man, he finds that he feels far better now than he has at any point in the last two years. He really should have done this sooner.
