He was asleep.
Isaac couldn’t quite believe it.
His Mate was actually asleep, without recourse to drink, or being otherwise fucked into the mattress.
It was nothing short of a miracle.
Harry had even made it to the bed as well, clad only in a towel from having soaked long in the bath.
His hair was still damp on the pillow. Ike liked it when it got a little longer than the normal military style cut Harry usually kept it at. It gave him something to run his fingers through when they were intimate. Not that he could persuade the fiercely stubborn Police Inspector he’d found for a Mate, to let it grow out too much thicker.
He had to take one step at a time with Hole, and it had been hard enough just getting him to accept that it was okay to come live in the hotel.
But if there was one thing he’d learned when dealing with the Norwegian love of his life, it was how to be patient as each new challenge came their way.
Eddie had said it was like house training a dog rescued from a shelter.
Which was not entirely inaccurate, truth be told.
Isaac smiled at the very gentle expression on his Mate’s otherwise severe face.
For the first time in weeks, things had come to a conclusion that allowed for some peace.
And it was good.
There were always going to be ghosts though, and there were always going to be nightmares. But they’d deal with them together whenever they raised their ugly heads, because that was how it worked.
Sleepy eyes flickered open and focused on him.
Ike felt his smile broaden warmly.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered, thinking he’d been a particularly bad Mate for disturbing such a beautiful sight. “Go back to sleep.”
Harry didn’t say a word.
He didn’t have to.
All he did was reach out with both hands for the man he loved, and that alone was encouragement enough for Isaac to kick off his shoes, drop his jacket and tie, and slip onto the bed, wrapping himself protectively around Harry’s lithe body.
He still smelled of sandalwood soap and hot water.
It lingered on his skin.
Ike caressed his back between his shoulder blades, where the sudden tension of waking had settled over him.
“You can go back to sleep…”
He found himself murmuring the words in Harry’s left ear as he was snuggled against, and one more time he had to wonder at the walls that had been lowered in his Mate’s psyche that allowed such a moment without struggle.
Perhaps he’d gotten too accustomed to the aforementioned nightmares, and the screaming, and the sleepless nights, that one spent without them seemed somehow destined to shatter.
But it didn’t.
And though Ike fought to stay awake in the hopes of keeping Harry’s demons at bay, he too finally fell asleep, content enough with whatever miracle had come his way, that arguing with it seemed pointless.
