It’s Not Over 5

It was awkward for Finch to strip down in Reese’s bathroom, even though Reese had provided him with plenty of hangers for his suit and shirt. It was even more awkward for him to put on Reese’s bathrobe which, having been purchased at the big-and-tall department, nearly dragged on the floor when Finch wore it and had also only recently been worn by an almost naked Reese. But it was the most awkward thing Finch could remember ever doing to walk out of Reese’s bathroom, wearing nothing but his underwear and Reese’s long robe, to approach Reese’s bed in which Reese was waiting expectantly, clad only in his boxers. Finch was assaulted by an overwhelming desire to flee, but the resultant picture of himself hobbling down a busy New York street in only the bathrobe made him realize that such an alternative was really no alternative at all. So he slowly limped across the wide floor to where his partner — and so much more — awaited.

“Finch, relax; I’m not going to eat you,” Reese told him with an encouraging smile. “Just make yourself comfortable. Do you want to be on this side or the other side?”

“This is fine, Mr. Reese.” Finch sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his socks. Then he gingerly, hesitantly slipped under the covers to lie down. When he became still, he could feel Reese moving behind him, but he was startled when Reese’s arms snaked their way around his waist in a snug embrace. Reese’s chest was warm against his back, his legs solid where they wrapped around his own.

“John…”

“Goodnight, Harold.” The smoky voice in his ear did nothing to calm his heart rate. “Or good day. Sleep tight. And if the bedbugs bite, I’ll shoot ’em.”

Before Finch could come up with an adequately witty response, he felt a warm, wet kiss being pressed to the nape of his neck, sending shivers up and down his spine and straight into his cock. He gasped and swallowed, but Reese’s hold on him did not waver; it was secure without being constricting, tender without being escapable. Finch had no choice but to resign himself to rest in the younger man’s arms. Once he had done so, making his body relax under his mind’s direction, he discovered that he was actually quite comfortable. Reese’s slow, even breathing was like a soothing lullaby, and his warmth was a welcome relief to Finch’s stiff hip. Before he even knew it, he was fast asleep.


Harold was trying hard not to panic and failing miserably. There was a harsh alarm sounding — Greep! Greep! Greep! — and an accompanying red strobe light pulsing while he tried to punch numbers on a keypad with his trembling fingers. Beyond the locked door he could catch glimpses of Nathan, but his friend had his back turned to him and seemed oblivious to the impending danger. Harold shouted at him repeatedly but Nathan continued to work around an antique desk stacked with books, unable to hear his cries or the alarm. Harold thought he knew the lock code but every combination he tried was rejected. In his desperation he was punching in numbers at random now, hoping against hope that one of them would work, that the door would open and let him get Nathan out to safety.

“Nathan! Nathan! Get out — you have to get out of there!” Harold shouted, pounding on the door to get his friend’s attention.

“Harold! Harold! It’s all right, Harold. Harold, wake up!”

At first he was confused to hear Reese’s voice, but with a sudden gasp his vision cleared and he saw Reese’s concerned face looking down at him.

“John! I have to… get him out…” Finch rambled, still befuddled and thrashing about.

“It’s all right, Harold. It was only a dream,” Reese told him in a calm, soothing tone. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you. It’s all right.”

“Oh! Oh…” Finch gasped, finally getting his bearings. He saw that he was in Reese’s apartment — in his bed, in fact. Reese was leaning over him, stroking his bare chest with a large, warm hand. “Oh, I… I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s all right. You were just having a bad dream,” Reese repeated. He slid his other hand under Finch’s back as he lay down again and patted Finch’s stomach. “Take a deep breath. You’re safe; you can relax.”

Finch did as he was told and began to feel more embarrassed than afraid. “I’m sorry… I must have woken you up.”

“No, you didn’t.” Reese smiled before pulling him closer and pressing his lips to Finch’s cheek. “I was watching you sleep when your eyelids started to flutter. I tried to wake you up as soon as I realized you were having a nightmare, but it took a while to snap you out of it.”

Finch drew another deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to purge the memory and bring his heart rate down. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” There was a pause filled with reflection on both men’s parts. “You were dreaming about Nathan?”

Finch grimaced before making a short nod.

“I’m sorry about what happened. I read the newspaper article.” Reese combed the curly hair on Finch’s chest with his fingers for a moment. “Were you there?”

Finch closed his eyes, feeling a whirl of emotions threatening to engulf him, but answered truthfully: “Yes.”

Reese sighed as though he had expected as much. “I’m sorry… The vest… must have dredged up some… painful memories.”

Finch opened his mouth, then realized he didn’t know what he wanted to say. After licking his lips he finally managed, “I’m just glad I was able to help… this time.”

Reese wrapped his arms around his partner and kissed his temple. “That makes two of us.”


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10 Comments

  1. Marnita

     /  2013/07/08

    Wonderful job!! I love this story. Please, more soon!!??!!

    Reply
  2. Kate

     /  2013/07/08

    Sigh! Finch was so lucky Reese was there! Beautiful!

    Reply
    • Can you imagine the nightmares Finch must have when he’s all alone? :::sob!::: But yes, Reese will make it all better now. 😉

      Reply
  3. Plink42

     /  2013/07/08

    Is Harold having PTSD? I’d hate to think so. But on the bright side it means John will need to help him get though it, and I’m sure he knows how to take Harold’s mind off things. 😀

    BTW, I’ve had “Its Not Over” running in my head for nearly a week. Thanks a lot. 😉

    Reply
    • Something like it. I think he didn’t allow himself enough time to grieve after Nathan died — blaming himself and all — so after having to deal with the bomb vest, he would have to feel some emotional aftershocks. But yes, John will know how to help him through it (no doubt having been trained to work through trauma himself).

      Sorry! I didn’t even know the song before I started writing this story. I googled the title I wanted to use, just to make sure nobody else had already used it, and found the song. The lyrics were too perfect for Rinch!! 😉

      Reply
  4. I am not crying it is just really humid in florida

    Reply
  5. Mamahub

     /  2013/07/09

    My poor BBs! Thank goodness they are there for each other. Always. Sigh.

    Reply

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