Over the next couple of weeks, Johnny slowly improved, enough that Doctor Andrews was finally ready to sign his release paperwork.
"You're still going to need some extra support once you get home." The doctor pointed out to him. "Do you have that in place?"
"He does." Steven spoke up immediately, shooting a look at Johnny before he dared open his mouth to protest.
Doctor Andrews seemed mildly surprised, but recovered quickly with a nod as he made notes on the paperwork. "Then I suppose you're ready to go home. I'll get your follow-up notes together, and you should be able to sign your paperwork today and get out of here."
Johnny smiled a little at that. Home had never sounded so good. "Great, thanks."
Doctor Andrews nodded and left the room, leaving Steven alone with Johnny. "You're not still fighting me on this, are you?" Steven asked him.
"Not much point, is there?" Johnny answered. The ongoing discussion between Joanne and Steven had left Johnny feeling very much left out, as if his opinion didn't matter. He had finally accepted that he wasn't going to get much of a say, and if he'd had an opinion at all, he would rather neither one of them felt the need to take care of him.
But the truth was that he would have a hard time managing things by himself for the next few weeks, at least while he was still dragging this beast of a cast around. He was just now getting to the point of being mobile, so he supposed that having someone around to help would be, well, helpful.
That didn't mean he had to like it.
And so, an agreement had been reached. Steven had wrapped up his assignment at Sloan Canyon and had briefly gone home to make the necessary arrangements in order to return to Los Angeles. Joanne would check in every so often while Roy recovered, arranging visits with their family. Johnny was still uncomfortable with the idea of Steven rearranging his entire life just to be here with him, but he supposed that maybe, just maybe, there would be a bright spot in all of this, that he and Steven would get to know each other a whole lot better.
Whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen.
The feeling of Steven's hand taking his, his fingers curling around Johnny's hand, pulled him out of his thoughts, and Johnny turned his head toward him.
"I don't mean to sound, you know, ungrateful." Johnny told him.
"I'm sure you don't." Steven replied lightly, but there was something underneath it.
Johnny was somewhat chastened by Steven's tone. Now he really felt like dirt. After all, it was Steven that was uprooting his entire life to be here, and he sure as hell didn't have to. "I'm just not used to having other people around all the time, that's all."
"Sure, I understand." Steven replied, squeezing his hand briefly before letting go. "I'm not usually all that keen on having other people invading my space, either. Not for long, anyway."
"Do you really live all by yourself up there?" Johnny asked. "In Alaska, I mean."
"Well, me and a couple of dogs." Steven answered. "My closest neighbor is keeping an eye on them for me while I'm here. Nice lady."
"Lady, huh?" Johnny couldn't resist poking at Steven a little.
"Yes, a very nice older lady." Steven smiled widely at that. "You have nothing to worry about."
Johnny immediately felt the heat rush through him. "I wasn't…you know what, forget it."
"Done." Steven responded. "Being a bit presumptuous, I suppose."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, you know." Steven replied airily. "Making assumptions about whatever might happen between you and me."
Johnny had to admit that something was happening between them, though Johnny wasn't sure how to describe it. Every time he got a letter with Steven's familiar tidy handwriting on the front, with a postmark from some far-off location, it did something to him. And of course, there were all the phone calls that seemed to further cement whatever feelings he was starting to develop for Steven.
Steven seemed to feel the same if those phone calls and letters were any indication. Johnny just didn't see how it could possibly work, not unless Johnny was to leave Los Angeles entirely and hightail it to Alaska, and that was never going to happen.
At least, Johnny didn't foresee that happening. Despite all the difficulties, he genuinely loved his job and couldn't see himself doing anything else.
"You know, you could end of getting sick of me." Johnny finally told him casually. "Maybe you'll never want to see me again after this."
Steven looked a little pained at that. "I can't imagine that ever happening."
The tone in Steven's voice completely threw Johnny. Maybe, once again, he had misread the man. "Yeah, well, we'll see how you feel here in a few weeks."
Steven let out a brief laugh, rising from the chair and moving to kiss Johnny on the forehead. "Indeed, we will. Now, you have that list for me? I'll get everything set up at your place, and I'll be back later."
Johnny handed Steven a piece of paper. "You've got the extra key?"
"Already got it from Joanne." Steven assured him.
"And you know where you're going?" Johnny questioned him.
"I'll figure it out." Steven assured him. "I can read a map, you know."
Johnny huffed irritably, and Steven smiled again. "It's going to be fine. We'll get things figured out. Don't worry."
That wasn't what Johnny was worried about, not really. It was the rest of it, the more personal nature of it. If people started to figure out that there was a whole lot more than simple friendship tying him and Steven together, well, that might create a whole new set of problems that Johnny wasn't ready to deal with.
He felt Steven's hand smooth over the top of his head, and he glanced up just in time for Steven to plant a brief kiss on his lips. And damned if that didn't spark something in Johnny.
He couldn't help himself. It had been far too long since they'd had any real contact. Johnny reached out and wrapped a hand around the back of Steven's neck, holding him there for a long moment as the kiss deepened and lingered before Steven finally broke it off.
"Hmm, maybe I'm not being so presumptuous." Steven told him in that teasing tone of his. "I'd best get going. I'll see you later."
With that, Steven was gone, and Johnny let his head hit the pillows before closing his eyes briefly. Maybe he was making too much of this and was worrying for no reason.
No, it wasn't for no reason. Getting involved with Steven was a dangerous, if enjoyable proposition. Not that he didn't want things to go further with Steven, but there were so many complications involved. Johnny wasn't sure it would be worth it.
He supposed they had the next few weeks or so to figure that out.
# # #
Steven shifted the bag of groceries and unlocked the door to John's apartment. It was dark and a little stuffy, a feature of John just not being here for the last couple of weeks.
He closed the door behind him and set down the grocery bag before setting off to get some light into the place and some windows open. Even if the air here wasn't exactly fresh, it would do something to dissipate the stuffiness of the place.
A knock on the door pulled him away from the task, and he crossed the room to answer. An older woman greeted him with a puzzled look. "Who are you?" She demanded.
"Steven." He explained, extending a hand in greeting. "John's been in the hospital the last couple of weeks. I'm just checking in on his place before he comes home."
The woman now looked a bit more sympathetic. "The poor dear. He's always getting into some kind of scrape, it seems. You let me know when he comes home, and I'll have a little something prepared for him."
"That's very kind of you." Steven told her. "Are you a neighbor?"
"Well, yes, in a manner of speaking." She replied. "I'm also the landlady. Johnny's a good boy, does a whole lot around here."
Steven could well imagine that. "I'll let him know you're thinking of him."
"You do that." She nodded. "And if you need anything, I'm just downstairs, apartment 1A. You tell that boy to rest up and take it easy."
Steven managed to hold back his amusement. "Yes, ma'am. I'll be sure to let him know."
She seemed satisfied with Steven's response, replying with a nod before leaving John's door. Steven closed it and returned to what he had been doing, playing over the whole scene in his head.
The more people he met that surrounded John, the clearer a picture he was starting to get of the man. Steadfast, loyal almost to a fault, always there with a helping hand when needed. But he was stubborn, emotional. He would get whipped up about the strangest things, things that hardly warranted such a reaction. And yet, when it came to more personal matters, he held those close to the chest.
Steven was finding it nearly impossible to get a read on how John really felt about him. Sure, he would react as he did today to the physical, and Steven thought he was getting some idea from their phone conversations, but John wouldn't come out and say anything.
Well, Steven wasn't going to push the point. He would be here primarily as John's friend and a source of support as he healed up. If anything else came out of it, that would be one hell of a bonus.
Those two days they had spent together all those months ago kept coming back to him, and Steven was having a hard time getting John out of his head, even before this. Now they were in a rather unique position, and Steven would be here for a good long while. Maybe they would get to know each other better, but maybe John was right, and it would all fall to pieces, what little there might have been holding them together coming apart.
Even if they did somehow end up growing closer through this, what would come of it? It would be impossible to maintain any kind of relationship, Steven knew that. John had made it clear he had no intention of leaving the fire department anytime soon, and Steven was always traveling, with rare forays home between assignments.
And home was a long, long way from here.
"Ridiculous." Steven told himself out loud. "What the hell is wrong with me?"
He busied himself with putting away the groceries, pushing those thoughts aside. There were other things he should probably do around here as well to prepare for John to come home, but Steven was reluctant to do too much. If he read John correctly, the man probably wouldn't appreciate having his stuff moved around.
But he could at least tidy things up a bit and air out the place, maybe find some clean sheets for the bed and some clean towels for the bathroom. There were few things worse than coming home after extended time away than walking into a disaster area.
Not that John's place was a disaster, not at all. As it was the last time Steven was here, it was clean but a little cluttered. He did notice as he was putting groceries away that the refrigerator could stand to be cleaned out, something Steven was reasonably certain John would have done himself after his shift.
The shift he had never returned from. Steven let out a heavy sigh at the thought. If John had died, would Steven had ever known, or would he have simply assumed that John had decided to fall out of touch with him?
Maybe Steven would have found out the way he found out about John's accident, via a phone call to the station. God, what a terrible thought.
He could have lost John before he really got a chance to know him fully. What a tragedy that would have been.
Fortunately, John seemed to be healing up well enough, so Steven could put those morbid thoughts aside and try to look ahead. Though that was certainly hard to think about as well.
And there he was, right back where he started, ruminating about an impossible future. Why he was considering such a notion baffled him. Sure, he had made friends all over as a result of his travels, even kept in touch with a lot of them.
But he had never allowed himself to make a connection beyond the physical with anyone, not in a very long time. Somehow, John had gotten to him, and Steven was only too happy to let him in.
The ringing phone pulled him out of his thoughts, and he hesitated for a moment before deciding to answer. "Hello?"
"Get me out of here." John's response was immediate.
Steven couldn't help laughing. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
He locked the door behind him and trotted down the stairs to his rental vehicle, making his way through the traffic until he found the parking lot for Rampart, finding a spot and heading inside and entering the open elevator.
The dark-haired doctor he had met on his first visit here was also on the elevator, giving Steven a quick nod. "Here to see Johnny again?"
"He's getting released." Steven told him. "I offered to stick around for a while and help him out."
"That's good." The doctor smiled ever so slightly. "I can't imagine it was easy to convince him."
"It took some doing." Steven acknowledged. "He's a very stubborn man."
"Yes, he is." The doctor smiled a little wider, shaking his head. "It's a good quality to have in small doses. Usually it serves him well, but you might have your hands full with him. He doesn't handle being injured very well."
Steven recalled having a similar conversation with Joanne. "Oh, I've been forewarned. But thanks for the warning."
The elevator doors opened, and both men exited, talking as they walked down the hallway. "Dixie and I took a cruise to Alaska a few years ago. Beautiful country up there."
Steven nodded. "The coast is stunning. I live in the interior, near Fairbanks. I'm trying to convince John to come visit, but it hasn't worked out so far."
"It would be quite a change from here." The doctor replied. "A lot colder, I'd imagine."
"Sometimes." Steven answered. "But the summers make it worth it."
The doctor tapped on the door to John's room. "Johnny?"
"Come on in, Doc." John called back.
The doctor opened the door, with Steven not far behind. "Looks like I found a friend of yours on my way up here."
John looked up from where he was tugging on a pair of jeans, his face lighting up in that crooked smile when he spotted Steven. "Hey."
"Hey yourself." Steven responded, crossing the room to sit across from John. "Need a hand?"
"Suppose so." John nodded before turning to the doctor. "They're kicking me out, Brackett."
"I heard." Brackett replied with an amused expression. "Try to stay out of trouble, will you? We've seen enough of you around here for a while."
"I'll do my best." John responded casually. "I don't like hanging around here much, either. Been here too long for my liking."
Brackett nodded and left the room, and John's expression immediately sobered. "Don't know what kind of trouble he thinks I'm gonna get into. I can't do anything."
"You're not supposed to do anything but recover, remember?" Steven reminded him.
John rolled his eyes at that, shifting so that he was standing, balancing mostly on his good leg as he fastened his jeans. "Ready when you are."
"Don't you need something on that foot?" Steven asked.
"Dammit." John grumbled, sitting back down on the bed heavily. "Under the chair, I think."
Steven reached under the chair and found one of John's shoes and handed it to him. He quickly put it on and tied it before reaching for his nearby crutches. "Okay, now I'm ready. Let's get the hell out of here."
"Sounds good." Steven picked up John's bag and slung it over his shoulder, keeping a close eye on John as he carefully made his way toward the door and moved to open it.
"I'll get that." Steven told him as his hand touched John's. He pulled back for a brief moment until John shifted enough to give him room to open it.
It was a slow, quiet walk to the elevator, and it was obvious to Steven that John was struggling a little bit. The expression on John's face told Steven that he would need to tread carefully, and so he didn't say anything until they were on the elevator and headed downstairs.
John leaned against the back of the elevator with a heavy sigh. That short distance seemed to have taken a lot out of him. Steven reached out and lightly caressed the back of his hand, causing John to turn his head toward him.
He let go of the crutch, threading his fingers through Steven's. "Thanks. I mean it. For all of this."
Steven leaned over and kissed John's cheek. "I'm here for as long as you need me. Longer if you want."
John smiled a little at that, dropping his head, and Steven could see the color rise in his cheeks. "Nah, don't wanna keep you from you own life for too long."
"This is part of my life, too." Steven told him.
He started to say something more, but just then the elevator doors opened, and John quickly let go of Steven's hand to take hold of his crutches, moving off the elevator and toward the exit.
"I'll go bring the Jeep around." Steven told him.
John's eyebrows shot straight up. "You've got a Jeep?"
"I'm renting it while I'm here." Steven explained. "I'll be right back."
Steven trotted across the parking lot, climbing up into the Jeep and starting it up, pulling out of the parking space and swinging around to the entrance where John waited for him.
He climbed down and rounded the front end, ready to assist if needed. "Need a hand up?" Steven offered.
John shook his head, resting his crutches against the Jeep while he seemed to calculate how he was going to get himself in there. Suddenly he grabbed the door frame, hauling himself up and depositing himself none too gracefully into the passenger seat.
Steven handed him his crutches and rounded the front of the Jeep to climb into the driver's seat, and they were soon on their way back to John's apartment.
"Your landlady stopped by." Steven told him. "Told me to let her know when you were back, and she'd have something for you. Apparently this isn't the first time something's happened to you?"
John smiled a little at that. "Mrs. Williams. Yeah, she fusses over me. Always brings me something when I'm hurt. Happens from time to time."
"Explains how you're so good on those crutches." Steven teased him gently.
"Yeah, I've had to use them a time or two." John's expression sobered again. "Last time was for a broken foot. Busted it when a gas line blew up a couple years ago."
"I don't know how you do it." Steven shook his head as he parked in front of John's apartment house.
"Comes with the territory." John shrugged as he shifted to slide down from the passenger seat. "Can't think too much about it, you know?"
"No, I suppose not." Steven agreed.
He followed closely behind John as he carefully navigated the stairs, pausing every so often before pressing on. It was obviously hard work, and Steven was going to make sure John took it easy for the remainder of the day.
John was breathing hard by the time they reached the apartment door, and Steven unlocked the door to let them in. No sooner had they gone inside than John made a beeline toward the recliner, easing himself into the chair and setting his crutches aside before lifting the footrest, extending his casted leg with a sigh.
Steven smoothed a hand over his head. "Need anything?"
"Not right now." John answered sleepily, his eyes already fluttering closed.
"Okay." Steven gently kissed the top of his head, evoking a slight smile from John.
Steven couldn't help smiling a little in response before heading to the kitchen to start a pot heating on the stove. He found a cutting board and a knife, inspecting it carefully. It wasn't great, but it would do.
Soon he was cutting up onions and celery, tossing them in the pot and stirring them around for a moment before starting in on the chuck roast. He cut the roast up into cubes and added them to the pot with some salt and pepper.
The smell that was starting to emanate from the pot reminded Steven a good deal of being up at the cabin on a winter's night, when the air was so cold it would hurt to inhale if you didn't cover yourself up properly. Normally he would have a loaf of bread going in the wood-fired oven as well, but he hadn't had time to do that here today. Perhaps another time, if he were going to spend a good chunk of time here.
He had found a good loaf of bread at the grocery store, and he'd put that in the oven to heat up while the soup simmered. Now that he had some good color on the beef and vegetables, he opened a can of tomatoes and a couple large cans of beef broth, emptying both items into the pot and giving it a good stir. A good measure of dried thyme and it was ready to go for a while.
Almost as soon as he had the soup going, there was a knock on the door. John's landlady, Mrs. Williams, was on the other side, holding a large pot of her own. "Hello, dear. I noticed that Johnny was home."
Steven turned to look behind him, where John was fast asleep in the recliner, snoring softly. "Oh, he's resting right now."
"Of course, of course." Mrs. Williams nodded sympathetically. "I brought him a pot of chicken noodle soup. Although it smells like you've got something going yourself."
"Beef and barley soup." Steven told her with a laugh as he took the pot. "But I'll make sure he has some of this, too. Maybe I'll offer him the choice."
Mrs. Williams beamed. "I'm so glad he has a friend like you to keep him company."
"Indeed." Steven nodded. "Thank you."
"And you tell him not to worry about getting his rent in right away." Mrs. Williams continued. "I know things will be a little tight with him not being able to work."
"I'll let him know." Steven assured her.
With that Mrs. Williams left, and Steven pushed the door closed with his foot. John stirred a little and opened his eyes. "Who was that?"
"Your dear landlady." Steven told him. "She brought chicken noodle soup."
John looked a little confused. "Doesn't smell like it."
"Oh, I started working on some beef and barley soup before she showed up." Steven explained. "But it won't be ready for a while. I can start heating up some of the chicken noodle if you want some."
"Mmm, nah." John shifted, settling back in and closing his eyes. "Sure that yours is worth the wait."
Steven smiled at that, taking the pot to the kitchen and finding room in the refrigerator. Between this and the beef and barley soup, they'd be set for at least the next few days.
It was odd, making one of his favorite winter soups while a warm southern California breeze wafted through the apartment. But it was comforting, somehow, and it gave him something he rarely got when he was on the road.
He'd spent the last few months, that brief week or two aside when he had returned home, traveling the country, living out of his suitcase and living off fast food. It was nice to just settle in somewhere for a time, even if the circumstances weren't exactly ideal.
And to be honest, it wouldn't kill him to take a break from working as well. He enjoyed his work, but at times it could feel like just another job, rather than the hobby it had been when he was a kid. He'd started to feel that sense of exhaustion shortly before he came here for that exhibition a few months ago, the same one where he'd first met John.
John had changed his life in more ways than one, Steven realized. That time spent with him had renewed his spirit, had helped him find his spark again. Even the editor he had worked with on that project had noticed.
Perhaps this unintended break was just what he needed.
He stirred the pot on the stove every so often, added the barley and stirred that in before finding a book to read and settling in on the couch, looking up every so often to watch John sleep.
Finally, Steven got up to give the soup one more stir and to wrap the bread in foil to put it in the oven to heat up. He heard John shuffling around in the living room, and he soon heard John slowly making his way into the kitchen.
"Almost done." Steven told him. "Just heating up some bread now."
John smiled ever so slightly. "Surprised you didn't make your own."
"Usually I do." Steven answered. "Didn't have time today."
John looked thoughtful. "Implying that you might have time some other time."
Steven gently rested a hand on John's waist and kissed his neck. "For you, I'll make the time."
John muttered something Steven couldn't quite hear, the color rising to his face. Steven decided he should probably back off a little bit. He didn't want to give John the idea that he was after anything from him.
John shifted a little and reached up into a nearby cabinet for a can of coffee and a pack of filters. "You mind handing me that percolator?"
"Do you want me to fill it?" Steven offered.
John paused before nodding. "Yeah, you probably should. Don't think I have enough hands to manage it."
"Well, that's why I'm here." Steven answered smoothly. "To provide that extra hand."
John arched an eyebrow at that but didn't say anything, merely filled the percolator once Steven filled it and set it on the counter. He put the lid on it and shifted a little to set it on the back burner of the stove.
Just before he pulled back, Steven felt him press a kiss to his cheek. He turned his head, trying to decipher John's expression.
"This isn't, uh, how I pictured this going." John finally told him. "Not sure how I pictured it, you know?"
"I must admit, this is not what I had in mind at all." Steven answered, moving behind John to lightly rub his shoulders. "But I don't mind. Really."
John let out a soft sigh, and Steven could feel him relax under his hands. He let his hands slide away, finishing with a quick scratch between John's shoulder blades before returning to check on their meal.
"You didn't have to stop." John told him. "Was just starting to feel good."
"Figured you might want to eat before anything else."
John let out a hmph in response, and Steven couldn't help laughing at him a little. "I promise that after we get some food in you, I'm all yours."
John seemed to perk up a little at that. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Steven replied, leaning over to give John a quick kiss before pulling the bread out of the oven and giving the soup one more stir. "Okay, I think we're ready. Get yourself settled and I'll dish up."
Steven caught John rolling his eyes but didn't say anything. Likely he just didn't care for all the fussing and hovering, and Steven couldn't blame him. He preferred to withdraw from the world when he was sick or injured and would only reluctantly allow his neighbor or his sister to check in on him.
Fortunately, it didn't happen often, but such were the occasional hazards of his work. Accidents happened.
Steven found bowls and dished up before slicing off a couple of slices of bread and slathering them with butter, taking some out to John and handing it to him. "Coffee should be ready, too. You take it black, right?"
"Right." John seemed a little surprised that Steven had remembered.
Soon enough Steven had John's coffee on the end table beside him and had himself settled in on the couch with his own meal, and the two ate in companiable silence. It all seemed a little oddly domestic, more so than Steven normally would have liked. He wasn't built for that kind of life, always on the move, rarely coming home for more than a couple weeks at a time before taking off again on another assignment.
It wasn't a life that lent itself to any kind of relationship, and so Steven hadn't bothered. Even now, he had trouble imagining trying to maintain whatever was developing between himself and John.
But he wasn't going to concern himself with that right now. Maybe John was right, and they'd be sick of each other by the time John recovered fully. If so, Steven would simply move on, no harm, no foul.
On the other hand, if they could at least remain friends, well, that would be something.
Steven glanced over to see that John had finished his bowl and set it aside, settling back into the recliner. Once he finished his own, he picked up the bowl from the end table. "Do you want some more? There's a ton."
"Hmm, nah." John answered. "Thinking I might go try to clean myself up a little."
"Let me know if you need help." Steven offered casually.
John heaved himself out of the recliner, fixing Steven with a suspicious look, and Steven quickly moved to reassure him. "I promise I'm not being funny. So, if you need help, let me know."
John seemed to consider this before nodding. "Think I can manage. Most of it, anyway."
Steven nodded in response before turning his attention to cleaning up the kitchen. Maybe there was something to be said for this little bit of domesticity. Not that he was ready to settle into it full-time, but maybe, just maybe, it would be good for both of them.