Page 134 of Too Close To Home

That was…a lot.

Jake’s chest pulled painfully tight, but he kept his mouth shut. Because Harrison hadn’t told him that so Jake could make it better. He certainly hadn’t told him so Jake could start asking questions. He’d simply handed Jake something fragile and trusted him not to fuck around with it.

So Jake didn’t.

He didn’t rush in with sympathy. Didn’t reach for him, despite every instinct suddenly telling him to. Didn’t make Harrison give him anything else.

The man was hanging on by his fucking fingernails.

The least Jake could do was give him somewhere safe to hang.

Then Harrison gave a small nod, as if even admitting that had cost him something. “And I thought maybe I could.” His laugh was barely there. Bitter around the edges. “Apparently, I wildly overestimated myself.”

Jake stumbled back, catching himself on the edge of the kitchen counter opposite, giving Harrison room without leaving him alone in it. “You don’t have to make a joke of it. Not summat this serious.”

“Trust me, I’m not.” Harrison rubbed a hand over his face again. “I’m trying very hard not to have some sort of humiliating emotional event in your flat.”

Jake huffed a soft breath. “Think we’re already in the event, detective.”

The silence that followed felt different. Thinner. Stripped back.

Jake studied him, then, “You want me further away?”

Harrison looked at him. “No.”

“Alright.” Jake pushed away from the counter and stepped closer. Slowly. No assumptions. “What d’you need from me?”

Harrison stared at him for a moment. “I… don’t know.”

“Okay.”

Jake waited.

He could do that. Apparently.

Except standing there watching Harrison try to pull himself back together was doing horrible things to his chest, and every instinct Jake had was telling him to reach for him.

Just not in the way he had before.

“Can I touch you?”

Harrison’s eyes flicked to his.

“Not like that.” Jake raked a hand through his hair, dragging it back from his face. Christ, why was this suddenly harder to ask for than sex? “I mean just… hold you or summat. Would that be alright?”

Harrison’s throat moved. “Yeah.”

Jake closed the last bit of distance between them. No kiss. No hands heading south. Nothing expected in return. He lifted one hand slowly and settled it against the side of Harrison’s neck, palm warm against his skin, fingers curving gently around the back.

Harrison closed his eyes.

And somehow that tiny bit of trust hit heavier than having Harrison hard beneath his hand five minutes ago.

Jake stroked his thumb beneath Harrison’s jaw. “There y’are.”

Harrison seemed to give then. A quiet yielding. Loosening his shoulders. As if holding himself together had suddenly become more tiring than letting Jake see a little of the damage. So Jake drew him in, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, careful and unshowy, giving him an out if he wanted it. But Harrison didn’t want it. He stood there, stiff with the habit of resistance, before his forehead came to rest on Jake’s shoulder.

That felt bigger than the kiss had.