He knocked before he entered, because there wasn't a buzzer. It was such a Dorian thing to do that John couldn't help but be amused, despite the nervous jitters still prickling across his skin.
"You know you don't have to do that, right?"
The door slid open, and Dorian stepped in sheepishly. "Thought it'd be polite." He was dressed in his normal clothing, skin patched up and looking so completely okay that John thought he'd explode with relief. Rudy was hovering behind him, bobbing an anxious nod over Dorian's shoulder.
"'Lo there, John. I, ah. I'll give you two some time." Rudy glanced around nervously. "Don't like hospitals much."
"Yeah, well, I'm right there with you." John shifted, trying to adjust the pillow bunched up behind him. "Nice seeing you, Rudy."
The doctor gave another twitchy nod and stepped back, closing the door behind him and leaving the two of them alone. Dorian was avoiding John's gaze, hands moving at his sides uncertainly. "I'm sorry if I….upset you yesterday."
John snorted, more out of reflex than true impatience. "I'm not upset."
"Okay." Dorian was still watching him warily, as if afraid that if he moved too quickly, he'd scare John off. Fat chance of that happening, John thought gloomily. Not with him trussed up to the bed like this.
Like a damn Thanksgiving turkey.
Dorian edged closer to the bed, playing with the edges of his jacket nervously, and John found himself being infected with his anxiety. He shifted in his bed, wriggling the pillow around in the small of his back, then sagged back in resignation.
"All right, out with it."
Dorian blinked at him, genuinely perplexed. "What?"
"You know." Hewasn't going to say it, John was determined. He jutted out his chin, glaring at Dorian with a mixture of defiance and flat out nerves, and waited for the blow to fall. Dorian was starting to look panicked, and it was such a….weird expression on him that John faltered a little, his mouth twitching as if unsure to scowl or smile.
"I don't think you'll like what I have to say," Dorian confessed, his fingers twisting at his pockets. "It's very inappropriate."
"I don't mind inappropriate," John said unthinkingly, and he did scowl this time, feeling the back of his neck burning in mortification. Did he just say that? Idiot.
Dorian looked at him oddly, peeking upwards like he'd done something wrong. Something was weird, John realized, and it wasn't just the obnoxiously large elephant in the room. Dorian looked almost twitchy, shifting his feet around as he put his hands in his pockets and glanced around the room. In fact, it was almost like….
"You idiot," John said in exasperation. "You're running low again."
"Didn't want to charge," Dorian muttered, almost petulantly.
"Why not?"
Dorian almost looked embarrassed, and John filed away the image to consider later. For now, he concentrated on pushing back his own self-consciousness, squinting at Dorian inquiringly when the android took a moment too long to answer.
"When I charge….I sort through my memory files during the last period of activity. Make back-ups in the police archives," Dorian said reluctantly. "But I didn't want to."
John stared at him, feeling like he was missing out on something crucial and extremely obvious. "Why not?" he repeated, slower this time.
Dorian considered the floor between his feet very seriously, mumbling something under his breath that John couldn't make out.
"What was that?" he asked, arching a questioning eyebrow.
"John-"
John pounded his fist in frustration, but the effect was somewhat lost amidst the padded mattress and sheets. "Damn it, Dorian, if you've got something to say, you better damn well say it to my face. Or I swear, I'll get over there somehow and tear you a-"
"Didn't want other people to know," Dorian muttered, his voice just barely loud enough to carry over John's. John blinked, and Dorian looked up at him, his eyes saying a hundred things that his words couldn't seem to.
"I'm capable of being selfish, you know," Dorian told him dryly. "Especially when it pertains to you." He finally moved from the doorway, coming to sit in the bedside chair. John felt a thrill of nerves when Dorian met his eyes again, his expression carefully arranged into a deliberate guardedness that made John want to punch it away.
"I meant what I said," Dorian said quietly. "I don't know how not to. And it's mine." His hand brushed against John's above the sheets, and John couldn't bring himself to move away as Dorian tentatively took his fingers in a loose clasp. Giving him room to break away.
"I don't know how to do this," Dorian said, a hint of anxiety entering his voice. "You're so...so good, John, I don't think you see that. I was made to feel, to love, and how the hell I was supposed to resist you, I don't know. And I do love you." He faltered slightly towards the end, words dropping off in uncertain silence, and John swallowed wordlessly.
"I'm sorry," Dorian said eventually, when the moment had become a heavy lull above them. "I understand that you probably don't feel the same-"
Whoa now, John's mind automatically stuttered, though his body remained uselessly paralyzed.
"-can apply for a transfer. Hopefully I won't be decommissioned again-"
"Dorian-" he managed to get out.
Dorian made to move his hand away, and John tightened his hold desperately, clinging on with all the strength he could muster. "Damn it, wait," he said hoarsely, relieved that his voice hadn't broken, at least.
"John, let go," Dorian said, but he didn't move and John could've sworn he felt the android squeeze back.
"You talk too much," John blurted, almost completely certain that he hadn't meant to say that. To hell with it. "You talk, and you say...and you saythings, and then you can't be bothered to wait for an answer?" He was slowly losing the feeling in his hand, but Dorian's fingers were warm against his, and he decided that he could hold on a little longer.
"I don't want you to," Dorian started, then closed his mouth when John shot him a warning glare.
"I've never done this before either," John went on, hesitation dragging at his words but sheer determination to see this through urging him on. "Not with…"
"A synthetic," Dorian said bluntly. Something in his expression dimmed and began to close, and John growled frustratedly.
"Shut up!" he barked, releasing Dorian's hand and trying to heave himself bodily off the bed in his irritation. "You're an idiot-"
"John, calm down." Dorian stood, flustered, trying to press John back to the bed without touching him, and waving his hands around helplessly in general.
"So stupid-"
"I know," Dorian said exasperatedly, catching John's arms and holding him down. John's clumsy swing caught him in the jaw, but the android barely flinched and John was left with a throbbing hand.
"You don't know," John raged, wishing he had his leg on if only to give his partner a good kick. "You don't know how it felt, seeing you down there, seeing you shot up and dead, for all I knew, and knowing that the last thing you said was some sort of half-assed confession- you havesome nerve, coming in here and dumping your feelings and trying to leave- I- you-" John spluttered to a red-faced halt, panting and scowling and hating the prickling behind his eyes.
"I hate you," he said with relish, but that wasn't what he meant, and it didn't seem to be what Dorian heard.
The android was staring down at him, mouth slightly slack and his circuitry flickering warily on his cheek. "Really?" he asked quietly, his eyes blown wide and disbelieving.
John swallowed stickily, forcing past the lump in his throat. His eyes were aching, his knuckles already reddening where he'd clipped Dorian's face. "Yeah," he said shakily. He couldn't remember what he was agreeing to anymore, but somehow it didn't seem important, because Dorian's hand was on his arm, and he was alive, standing right there in front of John as if the sewers had never happened.
"Hey," Dorian said, his voice soft, and John glanced up at him cautiously. Dorian's hand moved hesitantly to his shoulder, pausing there for a considering moment before sliding up to press lightly against the side of John's face. "I….I never did finish my turn, did I?"
John wanted to laugh, and maybe something else as well, and he felt Dorian's palm against his skin as his mouth twitched in an aborted motion. "No, you didn't," he said, the words coming easily to him now. "But you don't have to ask, you know."
"Well." Dorian's thumb brushed against the corner of his lips, lingering a second longer than necessary. "It never hurts to be sure."