At the End of the Day (Or Even When the Day is New)
The weight of his body against yours feels both foreign and inevitable. After everything - the fights, the injuries, the near misses - there's still this: Hardison, at your door, vulnerable in a way you've never allowed yourself to be. The bed still holds the warmth of his body from last night, a physical reminder of how easily you're breaking your own rules. You've never been one to share your space, your body, your fears... but with him, it's becoming impossible to keep your distance. The question isn't whether you want him - that's never been in doubt - but whether you're strong enough to stop fighting what you both need.