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Rhys wiped his eye with his fist, feeling wetness as he pulled his sleeved fist away. He rubbed at his arm-less side and sniffed as he listened to Jack throw things around in their kitchen.
They were in the middle of a particularly bad fight at the moment. They usually had fights, most of them being small and petty, but this one had started when they got home for work and now three hours later, Jack had started throwing things in a fit of blind rage and Rhys had escaped to their room to cry. Jack's tantrums were a normal occurrence but they were different (usually being a reaction to idiotic employees) that only ever lasted a couple of minutes or so. These tantrums however where scary (to Rhys at least, he had gotten used to Jack getting mad in the office) so when it happened Rhys knew he couldn't leave.
Especially not after he had found out Jack suffered from Borderline Personality Disorder.
Some symptoms/signs being;
Intense and highly changeable moods, with each episode lasting from a few hours to a few days.
Chronic feelings of emptiness and/or boredom.
Inappropriate, intense anger or problems controlling anger.
And, extreme reactions—including panic, depression, rage, or frantic actions—to abandonment, whether real or perceived.
So Rhys knew he couldn't leave when Jack was having one of his tantrums. Jack had been betrayed and abandoned far too much in his life, and Rhys was currently not going to be one of the assholes to let Jack down. So Rhys tried hard to control the flow of tears streaming down his face and counted down form one hundred to calm his nerves.
Jack appeared in the doorway when Rhys was one sixty-three. His hair was a mess and his eyes were puffy, both two parts of their appearance they had in common at the moment, but Jack's hand was bleeding.
"Jack...your hand is bleeding."
Jack didn't remove his gave from Rhys instead choosing to nod and move closer. With a sigh Rhys reached under the bed and pulled out the first aid kit (the skin at Rhys' right shoulder had split the night before, bleeding around his arm socket. Jack had thankfully patched him up after complaining about how late it was and that "a man needs his fucking beauty sleep God dammit" ).
"C'mere." Rhys mumbled tiredly and watching as the older man knelled on the spot on the floor in front of him. He rested his hand on Rhys' thigh, palm facing the ceiling and watching patiently as Rhys inspected the gash.
They sat in silence for a while, Rhys quietly cleaning Jack's wound while Jack observed his every movement.
"I'm sorry."
The words started Rhys, truly startled him, because Jack never apologised and it was a known fact. Pausing in his movements, Rhys looked up to study his face.
"I... I'm really fucking sorry. I don't want you mad at me...you're prettier when you smile kitten." There was a small grin on Jack's face that Rhys knew was genuine. "I fucked up, I know that and you have to believe that I'm sorry and...fuck...I didn't mean it baby, okay?"
Rhys nodded but didn't answer, much too curious to see what else the man would say.
"It's just...you've gotta understand that I haven't...haven't been this deep with anyone since, since Angel's mom...and-" Jack stopped talking to move his head to rest against Rhys' stomach. "I really just don't want to mess this up..." his right arm (the uninjured one) came up to wrap around Rhys' hip, Jack's own way of making sure Rhys wasn't going anywhere.
He wasn't.
"Your goofy ass is just too fucking important, alright? I can't afford to be losing you... Not you..."
As soon as Rhys finished wrapping Jack's hand in a gauze it joined the other around Rhys' hip. Rhys felt his hand move unconsciously to run through Jack's hair. He smiled.
"I'm not leaving you Jack." the small smile on his lip tugged until it was wide and full of teeth, tears roaming freely down his cheeks. Jack looked up at him and swiped the tears from his face.
"You promise?"
"I promise."
Jack leaned up and pressed their lips together in a soft kiss before burying his face in Rhys' neck.