August 1977
Steven waited at the gate, alternating between watching the flight board and checking his watch. John's flight in from Seattle would be coming in at any time, assuming there were no more delays. It had already been delayed twice, and he could only imagine how John was dealing with that.
He took a deep breath and exhaled. Dealing with a tired and grouchy John was hardly how he wanted this vacation to start, but well, there wasn't much he could do about that. Best he could do was offer him a good meal and a soft bed, maybe a little of himself if John was up for it.
God, it had been a long damned time since they'd seen each other.
"Alaska Airlines Flight Two Seventeen, now landing at gate Three B." The announcement over the loudspeaker nearly made Steven jump out of his skin. Too much coffee, again. Either that or the sheer anticipation of finally seeing John again after all this time. Probably both.
Passengers finally started entering the airport, and Steven kept watching and waiting until he spotted John ambling toward him, his hair wilder than ever. He looked as if he'd just woken up. Steven hoped he'd managed to get a little sleep on the way here. He had sounded very much on edge the last time they'd talked, to the point that Steven had offered to come to him instead.
But no, John had insisted that he wanted to come, and so they had made their arrangements.
John looked around, his brows knitting together briefly, and Steven waved to get his attention. His face broke out into that characteristic half-smile when he spotted Steven, and he moved a little more quickly to meet him.
"Hey." John looked more than a little haggard, despite the smile, and Steven wanted nothing more than to throw his arms around him and bring him in close.
Instead, he reached for John's hand, squeezing it briefly before letting it go. "Hey, yourself. How was your flight?"
John huffed and rolled his eyes as they started toward the baggage claim. "I don't wanna talk about it. L.A. to Seattle was fine. Seattle to here was a goddamn nightmare."
Steven lightly scratched along the back of John's shoulders. "I'm sorry. Did you at least get to sleep a little?"
John's expression sobered. After a beat, he nodded. "A little. Couldn't seem to stay asleep for long."
"Well, it's not too long a drive to the cabin." Steven told him as John found his bags and handed one to him. "Bed's all made up, so you can crash for a while if you want."
John smiled a little at that. "You gonna join me?"
Steven couldn't help the short laugh that escaped him, and the heat that rushed through him. "Possibly."
John seemed to think that over for a moment before nodding, that mischievous expression never leaving his face.
Soon they made their way out of the terminal and to the parking lot, and Steven opened up the back of his truck, shoving one of John's bags in as John followed with the other. Almost as soon as they climbed in, John leaned across the seat, kissing him hard, his tongue slipping easily into Steven's mouth.
Steven was caught completely off-guard by the move, letting out a muffled sound of surprise before threading his fingers into John's hair and pulling him in even closer, his hand coming to rest on the back of John's neck.
After what seemed like forever, John finally broke it off, letting out a rough sigh as he rested his forehead against Steven's. "Been too long."
"I know." Steven answered quietly, stroking John's hair. "It's my own fault."
"Nah." John responded. "It's your job. And I like getting all the pictures."
"It's not the same as this." Steven replied, kissing him again. "I've missed this. I've missed you."
John looked a little pained at that, nodding briefly. "Missed you, too. Missed you a hell of a lot."
Something more was going on. Steven was sure of that. Even a couple of months prior, when he'd called the station, John had sounded rough and ragged, not much like the ebullient man he'd come to know over the past year or so.
But there would be time enough for that, should John choose to talk. And perhaps after a good night's rest, he would be more willing.
In the meantime, just having him here was enough.
Steven pulled him in close one more time, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his neck. "I'm glad you're here."
"Yeah." John answered softly. "Me too."
Steven released him, and John retreated to the passenger side of the truck, rolling down the window a little as Steven started it up and pulled out of the parking lot. Once they left the airport and got on the highway, Steven relaxed and let the miles roll on, occasionally glancing over at John, who would have leaned out the window like one of his dogs if he could have, taking in the sights all along the way.
"Like what you see?" Steven couldn't resist teasing him a little.
John nodded, utterly fascinated. "Don't get to see this too much where I'm from."
"Just wait." Steven told him. "The cabin's not too far from a major river. Good fishing, and there's even a natural hot springs not too far off."
John immediately looked interested. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Steven couldn't help smiling. John's enthusiasm, as always, was contagious. "It's mostly public, but there are some…more private areas."
John eyed Steven up and down. "I like the sound of that."
Steven pointed out some of the sights as they drove, eventually exiting the highway and winding their way through more mountainous areas and forests as the asphalt gave way to gravel roads, then to dirt roads.
Finally, he pulled up to the small cabin, shutting off the truck and glancing over at John. "Well, this is it. This is home."
"Man." The one word came out as a breath as John looked out through the windshield. "It's even better in person."
"I like it." Steven answered, opening the door and hopping down. "Let's get you settled. Then you can catch some sleep. Or not. Your choice."
John's mouth curved once again into that familiar half-smile before he nodded and hopped down from the vehicle and moved to the back to grab his bags. Soon they were at the cabin door, and they were greeted immediately by the dogs.
"Well, hey there." John spoke softly as he reached down to scratch each one on the head.
"The dark one is Pepper, the light one is Cinnamon." Steven told him. "They were bred as sled dogs, but didn't really have the temperament for it, so I took them. Had them since they were young."
"Nice dogs." John answered. "Wouldn't mind having one myself. It's just tough to have them in an apartment."
"Oh, definitely." Steven replied as he opened the cabin door and let them in. "If I lived in the city, I wouldn't have them. They're good companions, and they'll make a hell of a ruckus if someone they don't know comes up here. They keep the riff-raff away."
"Can't imagine you get a lot of that up here." John commented as he set down one of the bags.
"You'd be surprised." Steven countered. "This area's popular with tourists, and I think some of them forget that people actually live here."
John took a look around. "Pretty cozy."
"Almost as cozy as the back of your Land Rover. Or so I'd imagine."
John smiled at that. "Suppose you'll have to find out one of these days."
"I suppose so."
John drew closer to Steven, sliding a hand to his waist and letting it come to rest on Steven's back before leaning in for a kiss. It was slow and tender at first, almost tentative. It soon deepened, and it wasn't long before they were utterly lost in each other, tugging at clothing, hands moving underneath as Steven guided them toward the bed.
God, it had been forever since they'd been so close, so intimate. Phone calls and letters were nothing compared to this, the pure physical sensation that coursed through him as John worked at his shirt buttons and spread his hands out over his chest and stomach.
Steven did the same, leaving kisses all along John's neck and throat and collarbone, both of them working furiously to undo belt buckles and buttons and zippers, anything to get rid of whatever remained between them until they were nothing but a tangle of limbs and skin touching skin.
"God, John." Steven murmured, sliding his hands as far down as he could reach, his lips finding every sensitive spot on John's body.
John's only response was a series of noises that told Steven he was on the right track, arching into his touch, the pads of his fingers running up Steven's back and sending a shudder through him.
It wasn't long before Steven was searching through a drawer on the bedside table, finding what he was looking for, slicking them both up before he slowly pushed deep inside John, evoking a sharp inhale of breath followed by a low moan.
This rough intimacy, this connection, this is what he had been missing since he'd last seen John. It was something he hadn't found with anyone else, and now it was all he wanted. He drove harder into him, laying his head on John's chest while curving his hands under his shoulders and holding on for dear life as John's body tensed up and jerked upward.
Then, finally, the release, followed not long after by his own, and they collapsed in a sticky, sweaty pile, their breathing the only sound in the cabin. John's hand slid down Steven's back and came to rest at the base as he let out a long sigh. "Been thinking about that for a long time." He finally spoke quietly.
Steven simply lay on John's chest, listening to the sound of his breathing and the sound of his heartbeat. "You too, huh?"
John let out a low, quiet laugh. "I'm gonna sleep like the dead."
"Good." Steven replied. "I suspect you need it."
John went quiet for a long moment. "Yeah. Things have been, well, kinda rough lately."
Steven lifted his head and shifted so that he lay beside John. "So you've been saying. What's going on?"
John's expression went dark, and he shook his head. "Not sure I wanna talk about it. Not yet, anyway."
"Okay." Steven knew he'd get nowhere trying to push the point. "If you ever want to, well, you know."
"I know." John replied quietly, turning to his side to face Steven and slinging an arm over him. "I just wanna be here, you know? Make the most of this."
"We can definitely do that." Steven told him, moving closer and doing the same. "These next two weeks, I'm all yours."
John kissed him briefly before pulling back a little, looking thoughtful. "You suppose it's possible for a guy to love another guy? You know, the way you're supposed to love a girl."
Something in Steven cracked open at that. "Sure, of course. Why wouldn't it be?"
"Don't know." Johnny drew back a little, tracing down Steven's chest with one finger. "Never thought about it much, I guess."
"Until now?"
John nodded. "Until now."
Steven's heart thudded deep in his chest, the emotion starting to build up in him. It was overwhelming, this idea that this man could love him in that way. He didn't know what to do with that feeling, not yet.
He curled his fingers around John's hand and held it against his chest for a long moment, not wanting to do anything to break whatever spell was cast over them.
Suddenly something wet and cold nudged him at the small of his back, making him jump. A mournful whine forced him to let go of John's hand and roll to his back. He turned to see Pepper with his front paws up on the bed, wagging his tail and looking at Steven with what could only be described as a hopeful expression.
Steven let out a long sigh. "Come on."
Pepper immediately leapt on the bed, his paws landing hard on Steven's chest as he let out that familiar low howl. John reached over and scratched Pepper's head. "He's a talker, huh?"
"Typical sled dog." Steven laughed. "Beware, we're going to have more company in a minute."
As if on cue, Cinnamon hopped up on the end of the bed, shoving her way in between John and Steven, settling in with a contented sigh. John let out a short laugh as he moved to scratch her behind the ears. "Is this normal?"
"Afraid so." Steven answered. "Hope you don't mind sharing."
"I don't mind." John replied absently, his attention now focused on the dogs. "Long as you're still here."
Steven laid his hand on top of John's. "I'm not going anywhere."
Pepper seemed to have an issue with that, letting out a sound that sounded distinctly like a complaint.
"Give me a break, will you?" Steven scolded him. "You'll get fed. Relax."
Pepper huffed, laying his head on his front paws and giving Steven a baleful look. He really did remind Steven a lot of John, though Steven wasn't sure he wanted to let John know that.
Cinnamon, for her part, shifted around until she lay on her back, sprawling out as much as she possibly could given the lack of space, and John scratched her belly, talking softly to her.
John really was a soft touch. Steven supposed there were times when he needed to be, dealing with people in their most difficult moments. He didn't find it all that incongruent with what he imagined the more physical parts of his job were like.
Soft and strong. It was a hell of a combination.
Eventually Pepper seemed to get tired of waiting and launched himself off the bed, knocking the wind out of Steven. Cinnamon wasn't far behind, rolling over and running over Steven and leaping to the floor.
Steven let out a brief groan, rolling toward John for a moment to give him a quick kiss. "Supposed I'd better get these monsters fed. You need anything?"
"Hmm, nah." John murmured. "Gonna crash for a while."
Steven shifted and rolled out of the bed, finding his clothes and dressing as he made his way to the small kitchen area to fix up the dogs' bowls and set them on the floor. With that done, he turned his attention to considering what he was going to feed the humans.
"What do you think, huh?" He asked the dogs. "Let's see what Marcy left us."
He was grateful that Marcy had come to stay for a few weeks, taking care of the dog and making sure everything was kept in order. Maybe she had left something behind for him.
He opened up the small icebox and smiled when he spotted the wrapped package. It looked like Marcy had a good day of fishing at some point.
It got him thinking about what to put together. After rooting around in the pantry, he came up with a few things, setting them on the small table near the stove and finding a couple of pans.
Firing up the propane stove took a bit of effort. Normally he would use the wood stove, but even now it would have heated up the cabin more than was necessary. And well, the propane stove was handy, Steven had to admit that.
"Maybe we'll fry up some fish." He told the dogs. "I'll bet John would like that."
Pepper merely looked up at him hopefully, wagging his tail, and Steven let out a short laugh. "I know, you don't care. Let's get you outside, okay?"
Pepper half-howled in reply, leading Steven to the door of the cabin, and Steven opened it up and let him out, Cinnamon not far behind. He leaned against the doorframe, watching as the dogs explored the immediate area, the sun slowly dipping behind the trees.
It was still that time of year, when the sun would never set completely. These days were what made living out here worth it, a fair trade-off for the brutal winters when the sun barely showed itself at all.
And with any luck, during one of these long days, they might catch a glimpse of the Northern Lights. Even during these long days, the muted tones were spectacular. He had sent John pictures over the winter, and the next time they spoke on the phone after that, John could talk of little else.
Steven glanced over his shoulder at the man who was now buried under the bed covers. This thing between them had become something Steven couldn't have imagined, despite the distance between them. Somehow, they had managed to keep it going all this time.
He'd been a little afraid that something would have changed, that perhaps that spark would no longer be there, that there would be some kind of letdown. And perhaps there still would be. John had only just gotten here, after all.
Steven sighed, then whistled for the dogs. They both lifted their heads, trotting obediently into the cabin, and Steven turned his attention back to fixing their meal.
Marcy had thoughtfully already cleaned the fish, so there was little left to do but to filet it. While he heated up some grease on the stove, he fileted the trout and mixed up the breading, a simple mix of cornmeal and flour, using a bit of it to test his grease before dipping the fish and placing it gently in the pan.
"Maybe some hush puppies?" Steven asked Cinnamon, who had settled in near his feet. "Do you think John would like that?"
Cinnamon licked her lips and looked up at him, and he returned to make the batter, checking every so often on the frying trout. After pulling it from the pan to drain, he dropped the batter by spoonfuls into the still-hot grease as both dogs now waited at his feet.
"Don't worry, you'll get some too." He assured them. "I haven't forgotten."
Almost as soon as he pulled them out of the grease, he broke one apart and tossed a piece to each dog, who happily snatched them up and took them to another part of the cabin.
Finally, he finished off the last of the hush puppies, pulling them from the grease and setting them next to the fish to drain. He turned around and started toward the bed to see if John was ready to eat, only to see both dogs curled up on the bed on either side of him.
He wasn't sure if he wanted to leave him be or join him.
John shifted a little as he approached but didn't wake up, so Steven slowly climbed up on the bed. Pepper immediately started wagging his tail, with a steady thump thump thump against John's leg.
"Stop that." John murmured, reaching out to rub Pepper, but he didn't open his eyes. Steven took the opportunity to lean over him and gently kiss his forehead.
"Hungry?" He asked.
John's eyes fluttered open, and he seemed a little baffled at his surroundings before shifting around and sitting up. Finally he nodded. "Smells good."
"My sister stocked me up." Steven told him. "She got in some good fishing when she was up here last."
John frowned, looking off into the distance the way he did when he thought about something. "Marcy."
"Right." Steven answered. "You remembered."
"Yeah." John nodded, throwing off the covers and glancing down. "Probably should clean up a little first."
"Right." Steven agreed. "I'll go get some water pumped. Won't be long."
John looked puzzled for a moment before he nodded. "No running water. I forgot."
"Well, if we had pipes, they'd freeze up in the winter." Steven explained. "Not having running water makes life a little easier up here sometimes."
John seemed to acknowledge that, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and finding his clothes while Steven made his way out to the pump. It didn't take him too long to get it going and fill the tank before taking it back inside.
"I can heat some up if you want." Steven offered. "It's awfully damn cold straight out of the well."
John smiled at that. "Might wake me up a little."
"I'll leave you to it then." Steven replied.
He couldn't help watching John out of the corner of his eye as he wet a cloth and ran it over his torso. It was almost enough to make him want to make a mess out of him again.
But there would be plenty of time for that. Instead, he found a pair of plates and loaded them up, and suddenly John was right behind him, placing a quick kiss on his neck. "Looks good."
"Sure, but what about the food?" Steven answered casually.
John laughed softly, nuzzling him. "Yeah, that too."
"Come on outside." Steven handed him a plate, and they headed outside, the dogs following close behind as they sat down around the fire pit.
John settled in with a sigh, balancing his plate on his lap as Pepper sat at his feet. When John didn't seem to notice him, he let out a half-howl to get his attention.
John glanced down at him briefly before glancing over at Steven. "Okay to give him a little?"
"Oh, sure." Steven answered. "Little bit won't hurt them."
John broke off a piece of the hush puppy and set it in his palm, and Pepper gently took it, settling at John's feet to enjoy his treat.
He tucked into his own plate, occasionally pausing to look around him. "I think I get why you like it up here."
"You might have a different opinion come winter." Steven pointed out. "You get cold when it goes below seventy degrees."
John shot him a glare, but then nodded. "Suppose you've got a point. Hazards of being in California for so long. Not my whole life, but long enough."
It occurred to Steven that as much as they had talked in the time they'd known each other, John had never talked much about his family. His friends, his crew mates, others, but hardly ever his family. Steven had never been quite sure how to ask about it. "Seems like no one is native to California."
John broke into a half-smile at that. "Not sure I'm really native to anywhere. Moved around a lot as a kid for my dad's work. Wherever he went, I went. That was after my mom died."
He said it so casually that Steven was slightly taken aback. "I didn't know that."
John paused for a moment, then shrugged. "I was pretty young. Don't remember her that well. Still have pictures of her, though."
He shifted slightly to take his wallet out of his pocket, still keeping his plate balanced on his lap as he opened it and fished a picture out of it. "There's all of us together."
Steven took the picture from John's outstretched hand. He could see parts of John in each of his parents, the resolute expression on his father's face, the gentle smile on his mother's. "They're lovely."
"Yeah." John took back the picture and tucked it back into his wallet. "They're both gone now. Kinda how I ended up in California. Dad had a job there, my aunt lived nearby. He died on the job and well, she kinda took me in for a few years. I was a teenager by then, you know. Couldn't tell me shit."
Steven couldn't help laughing at that. "Comes with the territory."
"Yeah." John smiled a little. "So once I graduated from high school I went to L.A. And well, you know the rest of the story from there."
Something occurred to Steven. "Do you still keep in touch with her? Your aunt, I mean."
"Oh, sure." John nodded. "Not as often as I should, but I call her from time to time. She gives me hell if I go too long between calls."
"My sister does the same thing." Steven told him. "Ever since our mom died…well, she doesn't like to lose touch."
"What about your dad?" John asked. "I mean, assuming you still have one."
"In theory, I do." Steven answered carefully. "We haven't spoken in years. No reason to. He took off on my mom when I was young, went to work in the mines. Tried to get back in touch with me once I grew up, but I didn't want anything to do with him by then. Had my stepdad and that was good enough for me."
Something seemed to occur to John as well, and he looked as if he was about to say something before he thought better of it. Steven merely let out a short laugh. "Marcy and I have different dads. He's a good guy. Professor at the University of Alaska. Anthropology. That's what got Marcy interested in it. That's what her grad school work is in, actually."
John frowned slightly. "Is that right?"
"Yeah." Steven continued. "She's spending the season studying local tribes as part of her masters' thesis."
John looked downcast, picking at what was left on his plate. Something had shifted his mood, but Steven wasn't sure what.
Finally, he let out a short huff. "Used to have anthropologists show up at the reservation every summer. Followed us around like we were a bunch of freaks or something. I hated it."
Steven's mind immediately flashed back to the picture, and something clicked. "Your mother."
"Yeah." Johnny nodded. "Choctaw. Once she died, well, my dad didn't wanna leave me there. So, he took me with him. Probably a good thing he did. No telling how I would have turned out."
Steven wanted to tell him that he probably would have turned out the same, but of course, he had no way of knowing that. But this little bit of his past that John was willing to share did give him pause. What would have John been like had he not had to leave the reservation?
He figured it was likely that they never would have met, and they wouldn't be here now.
John huffed slightly, tearing off another piece of hush puppy to hold out to Pepper. The dog accepted the bite, and John scratched the top of the dog's head. "So hey, no offense to your sister. I'm sure she's doing great work."
"Well, you might get your chance to hear about it while you're here." Steven told him, relieved that the initial moment had passed. "She likes to come up here, and it's not far from where she's going to be working in the fall."
John smiled slightly at that, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You're sure it's, you know, okay?"
"John." Steven replied patiently. "It's perfectly fine. I promise."
John clearly still had his doubts, but nodded, and they returned to what was left of their meals, finishing in silence. He rose from the seat and held his hand out for Steven's now empty plate. "I can clean up." He offered.
"Sure." Steven answered, pleasantly surprised. "Just remember that there's no running water."
John smiled a little more at that. "Yeah, I think I can figure it out."
Steven was slightly chastened at that, and he followed John inside. At the very least, he could clean up the grease and the remnants of his cooking mess.
John was already filling a large pot from the water tank and lighting the burner underneath before moving on the cleaning up the table. He moved with precision and efficiency, no surprise, Steven supposed.
Steven scraped the cooled grease into an old coffee can and wiped out the skillet, setting it on the back burner. John regarded it curiously as he filled the dishpan with hot water and soap. "You don't want that washed?"
"Cast iron." Steven explained. "No need to wash it. It'll lose its seasoning."
"Huh." John tilted his head, frowning slightly. "Learn something new every day."
Steven couldn't help smiling at that. "I think I'll start a fire out in the pit."
"Okay." John nodded, steadily working away. "Be out there in a while."
Steven squeezed John's shoulder and headed back outside, Cinnamon close at his heels. Pepper, it seemed, had decided he liked John and was sitting near him as John cleaned up.
It was funny how the two of them had already found some sort of kinship.
Steven started a pile of kindling before adding smaller logs, and before long he had a decent fire going. There was a chill in the air, just enough to remind Steven that fall was coming sooner rather than later, and that the first snow wouldn't be far behind.
If only he could somehow get John to come up during that time. But it was likely that Steven would be off on another assignment by then anyway, so there was little point in wishing for much of anything. If wishes were horses, his mother would remind him, beggars would ride.
He was never entirely sure what his mother meant by that.
"Somewhere you want me to dump this?" John was suddenly outside, snapping Steven out of his thoughts.
"Oh, yeah." Steven rose from where he had been crouched next to the fire. "Follow me."
They made their way toward the outhouse, where there was a large tank set up. "Go ahead and dump it there. Keeps it from contaminating the ground."
John did so, and they returned to the cabin long enough to finish cleaning up, and Steven found a thicker flannel shirt while John dug through his bag for one of his own.
Steven found a pair of glasses, along with a bottle of his favorite bourbon. "You want some of this? Might warm you from the inside."
John shook his head. "Not much of a liquor guy. Might put on some coffee, though."
Steven couldn't help laughing a little. "Doesn't that keep you up?"
John's face broke into that familiar lopsided grin. "Nah. I'm used to it. It's just about all I drink at the station."
"Suit yourself." Steven responded. "Coffee's in the pantry and the percolator's on the stove."
Steven took his now full glass out to the fire pit, settling down on the ground with a sigh. It had been a good day, and if nothing else went right this trip, at least they had this one day to remember.
Perhaps he was being a little pessimistic. They'd known each other for nearly a couple of years now, and even if they spent more time apart than together, there was still something between them, some kind of connection that Steven hadn't found with anyone in a long time.
Sure, he still found companionship while he was on the road. Any port in a storm had long been his philosophy about these things. But his heart wasn't in it much anymore, and it felt more like a habit than a true desire.
It wasn't that he was waiting for John. After all, John most likely wasn't waiting for him, though he didn't talk much about his dating life. Just as well, Steven figured. They weren't beholden to each other.
Still, there was something about John that had taken hold of him and wouldn't let go, and he had no idea what to do with that.
"Hey." John appeared next to him, the scent of his coffee wafting over to Steven as he eased himself down next to him. "Looked like you were thinking kinda hard."
"I am." Steven surprised himself by admitting.
John sat so that they were touching, shoulder to shoulder. "Anything in particular?"
Steven took a long sip of his bourbon. "No."
John let out a low chuckle, pressing a kiss to Steven's temple. "If you say so."
Steven reached for John's hand, threading their fingers together and lightly stroking with his thumb. "I swear. Just happy to be here with you."
"You're getting sentimental on me."
"Suppose I am." Steven replied quietly.
"I won't hold it against you." John answered lightly. "So, what else do you have in mind while we're here?"
Steven was somewhat relieved for the change in topic. "Well, there's a ton of hiking trails along the river. Good fishing there, too. That's where Marcy caught the trout I made tonight."
John's eyebrows shot up. "Your sister's into fishing?"
"Oh sure." Steven answered casually. "She loves it up here. Always happy to jump in and help take care of things when she's able."
"Huh." John looked thoughtful. "You know, I don't think I ever met a girl that was into that sort of thing."
"Maybe you weren't looking in the right places."
"Suppose it doesn't matter now, anyway." John replied, taking a long drink of his coffee.
"No, I suppose not."
They sat quietly after that, the silence punctuated with occasional conversation as the sun set to its lowest point, still never reaching complete darkness. At some point Steven went for a refill on his bourbon, and John refilled his coffee, the dogs always following behind.
"This as dark as it gets?" John finally asked.
"Afraid so." Steven answered as he put one more log on the fire. "Don't be surprised if you have a hard time sleeping."
"Might anyway." John told him. "But I'm kinda used to that."
And there it was again, that hint that something more was going on. It wasn't that Steven needed to know, necessarily. But if John was carrying a heavy load, he wanted to somehow help him put it down.
He rubbed the back of John's shoulders, drawing his attention, but John merely shrugged. "It's nothing new. Just the usual, you know."
"I don't, actually." Steven reminded him. "I just take pictures. I don't know that much about what you do."
"Just as well." John answered quietly. "You don't need to know."
Steven sighed in frustration, even as he knew he'd get nowhere continuing to push the point. "Okay."
After a long silence, John let out a short huff. "It's not that I don't think you'd be able to handle it or whatever. It's just…well, let's just say we see things no one should see. That's all."
"Of course." Steven took another long drink of his bourbon. "And I'm certainly not trying to play shrink. I'm not qualified."
John managed a slight smile at that, draining his coffee cup and playing with it in his hands. "It's why I spend so much of my off-duty time about as far away from, well, that, as I can get."
"Clears your head." Steven replied. "I remember."
John's expression sobered as he stared into the fire. "It's not working like it used to. Don't know why. It's like…well, everything I've shoved aside is coming out now. Like, I don't know, there's this box in my head that I've always shoved that stuff into, and maybe it's getting full. Maybe it's out of room."
He scoffed and shook his head. "Forget it. It's a bad metaphor."
"No, I suppose it makes sense." Steven answered. "You keep telling me how you have to just put the bad stuff aside so you can keep doing your job."
"That's the thing." John replied quietly. "Not sure I can anymore."
He took a deep breath and exhaled. "Don't get me wrong. The good parts are still good. It's just that the bad stuff is getting to me more and more. And now my partner's talking about going for a captain's post and well…I'm just not cut out for that."
"Maybe you just need a longer break, that's all." Steven wanted to reassure him.
"Maybe." John nodded. "Sorry, I don't mean to bother you with this stuff. Just can't keep it all to myself, I guess."
"Don't feel like you have to." Steven told him, sliding a hand along the back of John's shoulders to wrap around him.
John's hand slid to Steven's knee, curving around the inside as he absently stroked the kneecap with his thumb. "Think maybe I'm winding down a little."
"You can go in whenever you're ready." Steven responded. "I won't be far behind."
"Okay." John nodded before pushing himself off the ground and starting inside, both dogs following closely behind.
Steven stayed out by the fire pit as the fire slowly burned down, and he finally put it out before heading inside the cabin. He could see John already in bed, all but buried in the covers, both dogs claiming their own space.
He undressed and slid under the covers himself, gently nudging Pepper. "Come on, boy, make some room."
Pepper sounded almost offended, but moved to the end of the bed, settling down with a huff. John was already asleep, snoring softly, and Steven shifted so that he could slide an arm across John's chest.
God, he could get used to this.