bakerstreet | Come back.

[ooc: open to either role.]

[ canonically, the one coming back, but open to either role ]

[ Either way is cool. ]

[Joe for romance/smut, canonmates loved.]

Six months, in the scheme of the hundreds of thousands they've spent so far, is not very long. Six months with Nicky on a mission would have gone by in the blink of an eye, as the good things often do, despite their best efforts. But when they get a long-term job that involves slow infiltration with the monsters they're trying to destroy, Andy decides that divide and conquer is the best approach. Joe is the sociable one, who can ease out information from anyone one easy smile as a time, so it makes sense that he's assigned the mole. He's done it a thousand times before and he really doesn't mind. What's much less appealing, however, is having absolutely no contact with anyone on the team, except Andy over a secure network on a monthly basis.

But Joe is a professional. The last time he did this was in the sixties, when communication wasn't as accessible but a hell of a lot more secure, so it makes sense for Joe to only be in contact infrequently. And if this is successful, hundreds of innocent lives will be saved.

Still, that didn't mean he couldn't miss Nicky. And he did. It didn't interfere with the job because Joe doesn't let it - as said, he's a damn professional - but the weight he carries around those months is still heavy without Nicky at his side. He bears it with grace because that's all he can do. But he misses his family. Wearing a disgusting persona is somewhat exhausting without them around to tease him as he takes it off.

So he draws, most times, and he writes. Letters, mostly, and all to Nicky. He doesn't send them, because of course he can't, so he writes his thoughts each day down in a nondescript brown notebook bound in leather. Whether Nicky read them when this is all over was up to him - Joe knows he has a tendency towards prose of the purple and long-winded kind - but writing helps him feel closer to the one that owns his heart.

Alhamdulillah, the mission goes according to plan - for the most part, anyway. Joe has to shoot his way out earlier than he anticipated, but it wasn't any skin off his back (ha) as long as he got to the extraction point on time. His bag is ready when he grabs it, as it always is, and seeing Andy as he clamors into their getaway put a smile on his face, as it always does. He may have kissed her cheeks a few times on the drive, much to her annoyance, reminding him that she could very much die in an automobile accident these days and it would stick.

Nile gets the same treatment at the door of the safehouse, spinning and calling her a sight for sore eyes, because she really is. He's missed their talks and Andy's snarks, missed being home. He's still hugging the poor girl when he opens his eyes and immediately scans the area for familiar eyes to finish bring him home.

Nicky doesn't handle separation quite as well as Joe.

Joe is the social one. That helps him. He's extroverted, friendly, to say nothing of how handsome and charming he is, making it easy for him to draw people to him, make friends and allies. Nicky is quieter, preferring the company of his family first, and his lover over everyone else. His reaction to Andy's directive about this particular mission had been professional, but later, in private, he'd had to smother real fear. It felt cruel. Didn't Andy care how close they almost came to losing each other?

Of course she cared, and Nicky remembered that, despite his worry for Joe's safety without being at his side to protect him. They have a job to do, which is bigger than all of them. And Andy is right that Joe is better equipped than any of them to handle this particular aspect of the plan. So Nicky swallows his misgivings, holds his lover extra tight until it's time for Joe to leave, and then hovers at Andy's side for six months, waiting for any word at all. He just needs to know that Joe is still safe.

Six months (a small eternity) later, on the day of the extraction, Nicky can't keep himself still. If he sits by the door staring at it, he really will drive himself insane, so instead he moves around the safe house like he's compelled, checking their armory and straightening up the mess and compulsively making coffee in what passes for the kitchen. Until he hears the door open, and the sound of laughter, a voice he knows deeper than his own dreams.

Nicky leaves the coffee immediately. The distance that they keep from each other for the sake of their companions doesn't stand a chance against six months of true separation, so he doesn't even think twice about grabbing Joe the second he's let go of Nile, pulling him into a fierce, clutching hug.

And there he is. Just a glimpse is enough to get him smiling hard enough to hurt and his heart racing like it's been centuries instead of months.

He gives Nile one last kiss on the forehead before releasing her and practically running into Nicky's arms. His breath hitches as they come together, and oh, this is how it feels to be made whole again. Every time he learns it again, and every time it's a blessing. Fingers desperately clutch fabric and hearts practically beat against one another's in their chests. He knows no time or place but here and now and there's nowhere else he wants to be.

Joe takes a deep breath, inhaling that scent of the other man that he'd so desperately missed, and it settles something further in his chest. He could stay right here for hours because this is where he belongs: in Nicky's arms.

But he pulls away just enough to get a look of those beautiful eyes he's been sketching from memory for months now, that slant of his nose and the edges of his cheeks, all the pieces and the wondrous whole. He cups Nicky's face in his hands, feeling wetness well up in his eyes he smiles. For a moment he searches for the right words to say. But instead, he leans forward for their foreheads to touch, and Joe feels a peace he'd forgotten he was capable of feeling these past few months.

"My heart," he whispers in old Italian.

It's a long moment before Nicky can find his voice. At another time, he would be conscious of the fact that they're not alone, and of the fact that very few people enjoy being forced to observe public displays of affection, especially people who don't have someone else to offer their affection to in the same way. But right now he's not paying attention to anyone but Joe. When their foreheads touch, he closes his eyes for a moment as emotion surges through him, almost unbearable, but he can't look away from his lover that long.

"Welcome home," he says softly, in the same language. "I'm so glad you're safe."

Distantly, Nicky becomes aware of being observed, as Nile fidgets a little, and Andy -- who surely missed Joe nearly as much as he did -- quickly takes the hint. He hears her prompt Nile to come with her, so they can make a supply run now that everyone is accounted for, which gives Nicky and Joe not only the privacy of the room but the whole house for a bit. He makes a very distracted mental note to thank her later, but the second the door closes behind them, he curls a hand around the back of Joe's neck and kisses him, holding him close enough to feel both of them trembling.

He's not being fair to the rest of the family, he knows, and he's about to make an attempt to pull himself together when he hears Andy lead Nile away, and Andy is definitely getting some more kisses from him the next time they meet.

That thought is filed away as he's preoccupied with a whole different kind of kiss. If he thought he had come home before this moment, he was wrong, because home can't be anything other than this. Nicky's hand feels so wonderfully warm on the back of his neck, his lips are sweet and more familiar than any part of Joe's own body. He practically melts against Nicky, vaguely aware that he must be shaking a bit as he runs a hand through the back of Nicky's soft hair, relishing the feeling of having it right at his fingertips once again.

When they break apart, Joe is still smiling, even as he feels warm tears roll down his cheeks. "Of course I am safe," he reassures, his voice steady despite it all, "I have no intention of leaving you for good. I have simply missed you, my love."

Nicky brushes those tears away with his thumbs and soft kisses, ignoring how near his own eyes are to spilling over. He can't look away from Joe's face again; it's like seeing light after six months in darkness. And Nicky is not prone to poetic exaggeration the way his beloved artist so often is. There's simply no other way to describe it.

"It's become harder not to worry." His voice is soft, as though he doesn't want to admit it out loud, that his faith has been shaken in the certainty that they will leave this world as they have entered it: together. Besides... there are worse things than death. Far worse. "I love you. And I missed you so. Don't ask me to let go of you tonight, I won't do it."

Joe laughs, light and joyful, as Nicky kisses away his tears. He is a miracle and a blessing, his Nicolò; he's missed his kind heart and gentle touches that could soothe any ache. Just standing here under his attention again is enough for Joe to breathe easier than he has in months.

He leads Nicky by the arm to sit, refusing to relinquish his hold, and the moment they are both down on soft cushions together, he holds onto the other man tight, with his whole body this time. Legs twist together as he wraps his arms around his sides, his head tucked into the crook of Nicky's neck.

"I would never," he mutters before kissing the hollow of Nicky's neck. "On the contrary, I... am afraid I might not be myself again until you do."

It's a quiet admission, like seeking like at Nicky's shaken tone. Merrick still haunts them both and it almost drove him to madness, only being able to know once a month if Nicky was safe, and only second-hand at that. Then this mission... Joe knows how to play a part well, but deep in the trenches with the horrid enemy all alone for months, it's difficult not to feel some disgust towards himself, or at least the part of him that could blend in with monsters so easily. Rationally, he knows this isn't true, but when you have no one but yourself say so, it's easy for falsehoods to look true.

But if Nicky can still touch him like this, if Nicky can still recognize him under all of that filth, then he must not have lost himself as deeply as he'd feared. Still, he clutches to his lover like a lifeline. He already feels more like himself like this. It's always been Nicky who could bring him home again.

He goes easily, tangles easily, embraces easily, like he's been asleep this whole time and now he's finally waking up. The way their bodies weave together is so natural, and there is nothing Nicky loves more than this: the effort of getting as close as possible to the one he loves more than himself.

Still, the way Joe is holding him betrays the fact that fear had certainly gone both ways during their separation. As close as they are, Nicky can guess what might be on his lover's mind, but he doesn't often presume to speak Joe's mind for him, especially at times like this. All he does for now is run his fingers through Joe's hair, down the back of his neck, cradling his head close against his shoulder. He closes his eyes, basking in the chance to touch the man he loves just like this, and it's a good while before he says anything at all.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Joe basks in the comfortable silence between them, so different than the nights he spent alone these last few months sitting in a bare hotel room. This silence was built with almost a millennia of understanding and love. There's nothing oppressive about it, and Joe wraps himself around it like his lover holds him close. Feeling those fingers run through his hair is like a dream and Joe lets out a small happy hum at the soothing and familiar touch.

When Nicky finally breeches the subject, he thinks it over seriously before answering.

"No, not right now. I think I've already written down everything I could hope to say about it. Just..." He swallows, feeling somewhat childish in his insecurity. He knows the truth but hearing it from Nicky always helps solidify it in his mind. "We got them all out, right?"

If Joe doesn't want to talk, Nicky certainly won't force him; of the two of them, he's certainly not the one with a talent for expressing his feelings in words. The fact that Joe wrote things down somewhere makes him feel better, since it means his lover didn't bottle everything up inside for the last six months, but pen to paper just isn't the same as having someone to listen, silently, without judgment. Nicky will still be here for that, if Joe changes his mind.

For now, he nods as soon as Joe asks, stroking his handsome face and rubbing both thumbs over the scruff of his beard. "All of them," he says, immediately, with quiet vehemence as he cups Joe's face in his hands. "Every single one. We could not have done that without you, my heart."

Joe practically nuzzles his face into Nicky's hands, soaking up every touch, before physically sagging in relief. He knew it in his head before, but now he knows it in his heart. More tears spill over his cheeks but they don't come from despair, just the whirwind of emotions he's finally letting himself feel here, safe in his beloved's arms. Not a small portion of them are from the absolute happiness he feels being reunited with the love of his life.

His hand comes up to gently lay over Nicky's own. Fingers intertwine and Joe turns his head an so he can kiss Nicky's palm; he knows without looking where every line is, and he presses his lips against each precious one.

"And you, my love?" he mutters into that sacred hand with Nicky's first and oldest dialect. Joe knows from those last nights spent together how difficult this time separated must have been for him. His eyes must be shining with wetness, but he refuses to let go of his other half to wipe them away, instead studying the man in front of him like this is the first time he's ever gotten the chance to.

He must have known Joe was going to ask, just for the circular nature of it, both of them wanting to check in thoroughly with each other, leave nothing unaddressed, but it still hits him like a wave swelling up all over again, bringing with it the anguish of the past six months that he simply lived with every day, like a constantly overcast sky.

"I just missed you," he whispers, glad that his voice doesn't splinter, but he still presses close to Joe again and tightens his arms around him, burying his hands in his lover's hair. "I missed you so much, my beloved."

He wishes he could say they'll never do this again. He wishes he could ask Joe not to leave, promise not to leave him in turn, swear to always be at each other's side no matter what, but that's just not the life they lead. The job may require it again, and Nicky refuses to be the one who forces Joe to choose between his conscience and his heart. Neither one of them would be able to look at themselves in the mirror after that.

Joe holds him as tight as he can, as if he could absorb all the pain from Nicky and take it into himself instead. This life can drive one crazy, with their tremulous past and an infinite future. Joe can't think about that now, not when after months of yearning and dreaming and worrying, Nicolò is right at his fingertips again. They are both here and they are both safe.

Joe pulls away from the embrace a bit, but just so he can kiss the other man, long and deep this time. It's a kiss Joe puts everything he's feeling into, the adoration and relief and exhaustion and elation, and he trusts Nicky to read the unwritten words. He lingers, both of his hands cradling the back of Nicky's head; his world in his hands.

When their lips break, he shifts. Their heads don't move an inch, Joe's hands still cradling Nicky's face between them, but Joe readjusts his legs so that they are straddling Nicky's. "What can I do for you, amore mio?" It's a quiet offer, but they both know how long Joe has waited to make it. There are promises they can't make to each other, not with the world the way it is, but Joe will still try to give Nicky anything and everything he's capable of, tonight and always.

[In canon, he's the one who returns. Several times. After death as a goblin and 9 years after wandering in Limbo after having the sword pulled free. Can play either role, though.]