Wait and Hope: Chapter Nineteen
Moving In
Harry felt the weight lift off the mattress and didn’t have to open his eyes to know that Rafe had gotten out of the bed. Harry also didn’t have to guess to the cause for his lover to have exited the room trying to be silent and not wake him.
Jack, before Rafe had come into their lives, would stay in Harry’s office, the dog’s bedroom, waiting patiently for hours at times until he was called to be taken outside. Only when Harry had been distracted by something serious enough to forget-or yeah the mornings after Harry had self-medicated and slept in-and when the dog could wait no longer had Jack ever reminded Harry that he needed to be walked. Now, Rafe was there taking the dog for his morning runs and Jack could not wait at times for the man to even wake to get Rafe up and out of the house.
Harry didn’t mind. The bond between the man and dog was rare. Jack loved Harry and would die to protect him, would never leave him, but the connection between Rafe and Jack was unique. Jack couldn’t wait to have his special time with the man. Well Harry could hardly wait anymore for his special times with the man either...so.
Harry got up to use the facilities but crawled back in bed to try and get another hour’s sleep. Rafe and Jack would jog to the park, stay awhile, before they would come back into the apartment. More than likely both would literally dog pile into the bed like they hadn’t seen Harry in months.
Yeah, Harry had at least an hour, but all Harry could do was look around the room to see Rafe’s shirt here, a stray sock there, a Guns and Ammo magazine on the nightstand. Harold would have disapproved, greatly, but Harry Furnham just turned the lamp back off, put hands behind his head, closed his eyes and sighed happily. This was almost paradise.
Harry dozed for what seemed like only minutes when he heard hushed voices coming from the kitchen. He smiled to himself. How he loved those three. They had let him sleep in. He pictured in his mind, Rafe preparing their Saturday morning meal while Martha chatted with him, and Jack lying under the table listening to them both.
He didn’t need to do more than shave but Harry opted to take a morning shower also. It was just Rafe and Martha, both having seen him at his worst, but today he felt like he wanted to primp just a bit. He left the shower smelling of the scented soap Rafe loved. After shaving and splashing on his favorite aftershave and cologne, Harry dressed in his nicest casual clothes.
He hobbled into the kitchen and stopped. Martha and Rafe were huddled together by the stove, their voices hushed so they couldn’t be heard. As soon as they noticed Harry standing near the doorway they stopped talking and bolted apart. Harry only raised a curious eyebrow not the least bit concerned that he had interrupted something he wasn’t intended to hear. He would always have his paranoia but it didn’t include Rafe or Martha. They were beyond reproach and incapable of being distrusted by Harry.
Harry moved to the table and pulled back a chair for Martha. She took the proffered seat with a thank you and a friendly smile, but other than that her expression was unreadable. Harry smiled back, still not troubled by their secrecy. Whatever they were talking about he knew that it was with his best interests at heart. This was something new for Harry to be reacting so calmly right now. All of his life, Harold had been so suspicious of others, afraid he would lose a part of himself or worse by sharing any of it. Yet, as he sat at the table laden with thick slices of brioche dipped in batter and lightly browned in butter, Harry welcomed any and all sharing with these two.
Harold Finch had always asked for his privacy, guarded it ferociously even, but Harry Furnham was overjoyed by the companionship of his two best friends. Rafe’s company as his friend and lover was not only wanted, but desperately needed. Now, if there was ever a day to come that Rafe wasn’t around invading his space-that was a day Harry would not be looking forward to.
Rafe sat down with a warm pitcher of maple syrup. He smiled tightly and passed the mixed fruit and crème fraiche. Harry’s plate already held a few slices of Canadian bacon. He took two portions of French toast but added the macerated fruit and crème fraiche to the top instead of syrup as he needed to watch his sugar. Martha took the fruit and topped it with the cream as a side dish. She and Rafe preferred allowing the maple syrup to completely drench their toast.
Harry took a bite and made a show of moaning and closing his eyes in pleasure. Rafe and Martha worked so hard to feed Harry that they deserved extra praise.
Like their first Saturday morning breakfast together, each of the three had something to add to the conversation about things that had happened during the week. Martha who hadn’t met them yet, despite telling the two men over and over she would like to, was almost as excited as Harry when they heard Rafe tell them that Detective Fusco and Sherry’s relationship was getting to be quite serious.
Both Martha and Rafe wished Harry the best of luck when he explained that his substitute teaching position at the school in Queens may become permanent; protocol dictated that the position be posted. If no one with seniority wanted it, which seemed highly likely to be the case, the position was Furnham’s.
Martha was happy to share little tidbits about her family, about those her friends had met and relations they only knew by name that now lived far away. One of her grandsons, Mike, who now lived in Oregon, and his wife were expecting. Both Harry and Rafe congratulated her and good naturedly teased her about being a great-grandmother. Harry could never picture Martha as the kindly yet frail grandmotherly type which is why what happened next was so strange.
As if on some predetermined cue Martha swallowed a sip of her coffee, set the cup down, and with a trembling, shaky voice worthy of any terrified elderly woman looked at Harry, “Did you hear about the Fergusons? Their window was broken in an attempted night-time burglary. Thank goodness the would-be thief was scared away by their upstairs neighbor, a big burly bouncer that works at a nightclub who had just come home from work and heard the noise.”
Martha reached across the table and patted Rafe’s arm. “I would feel so much safer at night knowing that you would always be right upstairs.” All Harry could do was trying not to stare at this strange woman inhabiting Martha’s body. The Martha he knew would send any two-bit cat burglar screaming from her apartment, Martha hot on their heels with an aluminum baseball bat in her hand.
Harry paused in lifting his cup to take a sip of his tea to watch Rafe cover Martha’s hand, the one that was now holding onto Rafe’s right sleeve like her life depended on him, within his huge left palm while comforting the distraught woman in his best ‘awe shucks ma'am’ modest hero voice, “I am no big burly bouncer, but I would consider it my duty as a man to make sure you feel safe.”
Harry had a hard time not shaking his head in disbelief when Jack popped up at Martha's side doing his canine version of ‘I’ll protect you too.’ Martha pulled her hand from under Rafe’s, patted the dog between the ears, then clutched Jack’s head with both hands and cooed, “Oh, such a good boy you are.”
Martha appeared pensive before she looked Harry’s way. “Jacob has left for Stanford and will only be home now for holidays. Who’s going to take Jack for his runs in the park?”
Harry was about to remind Martha that Jacob had left almost a month ago just about the time Rafe had all but moved into the apartment. Those runs in the park were now a daily ritual between Jack and Rafe. Ah I think I see what is going on here. Instead, Harry excused himself and got up from the table, “Rafe may I speak with you, privately?” Before he turned to follow Rafe out of the kitchen, Harry bent to kiss Martha on the forehead, “Thank you.”
When the two were alone in the bedroom, Harry began by saying, “I think we have some kind of misunderstanding here. I thought you knew that I wanted you here, permanently.”
Harry gestured back towards the living room then around at every change Rafe had made around this room as well. “Why do you think I allowed you keep that, that thing here? Why do you believe I let you make all these other changes? I wanted this to be your home as well; I thought you understood my invitation. I believe I assumed incorrectly. So, let me clarify this by asking you directly. Rafe, would you like to live here, with me? I dare not imagine a day without seeing your face first as I wake, last before I sleep. Please say yes?”
Rafe grinned sheepishly. “Seems we both assumed incorrectly. Even with all that has happened between you and I, even with seeing for my own eyes how so very different you are, I still thought of you as Harold, a man who was private, paranoid, never inclined to give away even the least little bit of himself, let alone share his life and home.” Rafe reached out and pulled Harry into his embrace. “Yes.”
When the two men pulled out of the hug, Rafe grabbed Harry’s hand leading him out of the bedroom towards the kitchen. “No time like the present. Looks like it’s moving day. Let’s tell Martha the good news!”
Martha offered to watch Jack for the rest of the day and then the two left, Martha to her apartment and Rafe to gather the rest of his personal belongings.
Harry had insisted Rafe have the closet space in their bedroom, so while Rafe was away Harry kept busy moving his suits to the office's closet. Harry had to laugh at himself. No Rafe, I haven’t completely changed. The real Harry Furnham’s wardrobe wasn’t quite his style and throughout the past months the new Furnham had added clothing more to his tastes, a lot of clothing. Seems the quality of the suits and shoes had dropped, but not the quantity. Harry was just as much of a clotheshorse as Harold.
Rafe wasn’t gone long. It only took one trip to bring the rest of his belongings to the brownstone. His apartment was rented furnished so the furniture and most of the decorations stayed with the place. He rarely prepared food there at the apartment, eating out at various restaurants with Sherry or at the diner before and after his shift, but what cookware he had purchased had already migrated over to Harry’s place during the last three weeks.
So after not even an hour Rafe was on his way back. The few clothes he still had left at his old place, a couple of boxes, and a shaving kit-containing shampoo, a spare toothbrush, and other toiletries-that hadn’t joined the pots and pans migration to Harry’s barely filled the passenger side of the pickup’s cab.
The shaving kit and the two boxes he brought up first. The larger box containing his underclothes Rafe dropped on the floor next to the bureau, the smaller of the boxes he set down on the mattress, and the kit he stashed in the cupboard under the bathroom sink. He went to peek in on Harry who was busy fussing with his clothes arranging them just so in the office closet. Harry nodded briefly in return to Rafe’s hello then went back to his nitpicking. Deciding to just go unpack and put his own items away Rafe returned to the bedroom.
The box on the mattress contained Rafe’s own table side items: aspirin, nail clippers, tissue box, discrete rag for lonely nights, and of course a Derringer pistol. He pulled open the bottom drawer of the nightstand that was supposed to be his now and found books, piles and piles of books. Rafe smiled indulgently. He gathered them up and went in search of their proper places on the shelves in the living room. Over the years, John Reese had learned Harold Finch’s sorting preferences for books. Harry Furnham used the same system. So, Rafe just had to find their correct shelf.
Task complete, Rafe placed his gun in the bottom drawer underneath his ragged towel behind the box of tissues then pulled open the top drawer. What he found gave him pause. Beside a few wrapped condoms was an unopened tube of personal lubricant, its seal still intact, and the use by date for the contents had to mean this was a recent purchase.
Rafe started almost guiltily when Harry entered their bedroom, his task to get his closet arranged just so apparently completed. Rafe hastily began emptying the rest of the smaller box’s contents into the drawer. He pretended to not have noticed the items that Harry had seemed to have forgotten were in there, not unlike the books in the other drawer. Only Rafe could tell by the expectant look Harry gave him that Harry indeed had not forgotten about those items, was actually waiting for Rafe to mention them.
Rafe pointed at the box next to the bureau, “My underclothes and socks are in there. Where can I put them?”
Rafe wasn’t sure if it was disappointment that flitted momentarily in Harry’s eyes because he covered his reaction up quickly before hobbling over to the bureau. “I only require use of the mirror and some space on the dresser’s top. The rest of it along with all the drawers are yours to use however you wish.” Harry made to leave the room, “I’ll get out of your way. I’m going to prepare an early lunch and something cold to drink. When you are finished here you may join me in the kitchen before you bring the rest of your belongings up from your truck.”
With that Harry left the room. Rafe felt like kicking himself. In his own awkward way Harry had let Rafe know he was ready. On the drive home from their picnic they had discussed intercourse. Rafe wanted it more than anything with Harry. Of course for Rafe there had been bad experiences, but with caring gentle partners he had found pleasure in the act and to share that with someone he loved and cherished.
Harry had that level of intimacy with his few partners; had always found pleasure in both giving and receiving, but that was before... Rafe had assured Harry that he could wait until the time was right for the both of them and if that time never came; Rafe would love Harry regardless.
Only that time had come. Harry had already given Rafe so much-a home, companionship, love-now this and Rafe had acted the fool. Instead of sharing his concerns with Harry about whether this was something Harry wanted for himself not just to please Rafe, Rafe had said nothing. He had to fix this, now!
Rafe stood in the kitchen doorway; Harry was standing at the sink staring vacantly out the window. Rafe moved to stand behind the smaller man, slid his arms around Harry’s waist and kissed the top of his head before resting his chin there, “I handled that badly. I’m sorry.”
Harry turned in Rafe’s embrace to smile up at the taller man. “There is no reason for you to feel that way. I am the one at fault. I should have been more forthcoming. Old habits die hard.” Harry pecked Rafe on the lips before he asked, “How about some lunch?”
Rafe bent his head to kiss Harry properly and then pulled back. “No, lunch can wait. The rest can wait. You and I need to talk.” Rafe led Harry back into the bedroom and asked if they could lie together on the bed.
When Harry was comfortable on his back, Rafe stretched out next to him, resting his head close to Harry’s on the pillow, while running comforting circles across Harry’s chest. “I should have said something, anything when I found the supplies. You know how much I want this, but for both of us not just not me. I don’t know why I panicked with the thought I was pushing you into this. Even last night I felt you tense up when you thought I was going to touch you there. I was wrong again, wasn’t I?”
Harry couldn’t help but chuckle, “We really need to work more on our communication skills.” He then stopped Rafe’s hand, pulling it to his lips, kissing each finger one by one. “I am nervous of course-it has been so long-that I might disappoint you because of that, not because I don’t want you. What I want is to make you happy, bring you pleasure, and live with you as your partner. If one of the ways you are given pleasure is by taking me sexually then I would cherish the act.”
Rafe moved up and over Harry looking into his partner’s eyes before kissing him deeply. “Thank you,” Rafe whispered as he nuzzled Harry’s neck. Between reassuring kisses Rafe slowly stripped them both until they were lying naked together. Rafe then removed Harry’s glasses and placed them on the nightstand. He reached into the drawer to remove the lubricant and a condom packet.
Rafe needed to be sure, even now looking for any signs that Harry might want him to stop. Harry whispered, “I’m fine. Please keep going.”
Hearing those words from Harry spurred him on. Rafe moved down to place a pillow under his lover’s hips, spread Harry’s thighs carefully for easier access to Harry’s opening. Rafe removed the seal, flipped the cap open, and coated one finger with the lubricant before he inserted the tip of his forefinger into the pink crevice.
With his free hand, Rafe alternated between tweaking each of Harry's nipples between thumb and forefinger or brushing a palm down Harry’s chest and abdomen to stroke Harry’s cock or fondly caress his balls. Stimulating Harry’s own pleasure that way allowed Harry to relax while Rafe inserted more of his finger to find and massage Harry’s prostate.
Every time he inserted another finger coated with more lube, Rafe would check Harry for any signs of extreme discomfort, but his lover was only moaning in ecstasy not pain. Slowly, carefully Rafe would spread his fingers stretching Harry’s opening while stimulating Harry’s pleasure points simultaneously. Rafe was patient enough to wait, performing the preparations until Rafe thought Harry was ready to receive his width. But it was Harry who fairly screamed, “I’m ready, please fuck me now.”
Rafe’s own excitement was so ramped up by now he fumbled nervously sliding the condom over himself. He had to pinch the head of his cock to bring a bit of pain. Rafe had to take this slow, not jam himself in with one thrust. He held his shaft and pushed into Harry’s opening.
The euphoria of pleasure was only surpassed by Rafe’s desire to watch Harry for any discomfort. Once Harry’s face cleared of any pain, Rafe edged in a few inches. Rafe kissed Harry at the corner of his mouth, then each eyelid. Harry’s body relaxed completely, Rafe felt the change.
Rafe plunged in all the way, bottoming out. Rafe continued to touch and kiss Harry in gratitude and love. Slowly Rafe moved out of the clenching channel til only the head was left in. Gradually Rafe thrust back in all the way. After three passes it was clear that adequate lube had been used and that Harry was not hurting.
With nothing stopping them now, Rafe began to speed up his thrusts. His right hand was under Harry’s shoulder to ground them both. His left hand was grabbing Harry’s ass to steady his thrusts. Soon the sensations built to a mating rut.
Rafe pulled both hands out from under Harry to lay his palms near Harry’s neck. Rafe was now supported by his arms to give him more leverage in each fucking stroke. Harry had one hand behind the knee of his bad leg, bringing it closer to his chest. This gave Rafe a deeper penetrating thrust. Harry’s other hand was pulling and squeezing his own cock.
The bed squeaked and bounced as the two lovers began to synchronize their thrusts. The air was ripe with sweat and pheromones. Heavy breathing and gasping love declarations were all that could be heard over the thump-thump-thump of the bed frame. The mattress bowed in the center where hips collided in animalistic fervor.
Harry groaned deep in his chest and his face contorted. Cries of satisfaction were choppy and ragged, but growing in volume. Finally, Harry wailed his release. Rafe bounced them so hard it modulated Harry’s cries to their tune.
Once Harry sighed in his completion, signaling his defeat to the little death Rafe sped up. His fists balled up at Harry’s ears. Impossibly, the mattress was nearly vibrating off the frame as Rafe grunted in lower and lower pitches. His neck corded and he bared his clenched teeth. An agonized moan left his throat followed by a stiffening of his whole body. After two small aftershock inducing thrusts, Rafe pulled out and rolled to the side, gasping for air.
Both men lay there coming down from their orgasmic highs. When he could breath without having to suck in air, Rafe removed the condom and tossed it in the trash. The sounds Harry had made while Rafe had pounded into him were not of pain, but Rafe leaned over Harry, checking him over to make sure his aggressiveness hadn’t harmed the other man.
Harry returned Rafe’s look of concern with one of satisfied bliss. “I’m fine; matter-of-fact I’m more than fine. I love you.”
Rafe grabbed Harry’s hand, the left with the gold wedding band, kissed the finger and the ring. “I love you too. When will you wear my ring?”
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Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five
Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Epilogue