Post by Seek on Mar 8, 2011 19:31:21 GMT 10
Title: Scars
Rating: PG
Word Count: 453 words
Pairing: Dom/Evin - Team Underpants
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Scars: or when Evin and Dom are both semi-naked
-
His shirt wasn’t anywhere near decent any longer, and Dom sighed. It was caked with dried blood and grime and he wasn’t sure which of it was his and which wasn’t. He was just cold, his clothing was damp, and his muscles ached so much that barracks training seemed like a pleasant fantasy.
“Lie down,” Edem instructed, and obediently, Dom lay face-down on the bedroll the healers had appropriated. Edem was from somewhere between Tirragen and the hill country, and he let out a rough curse as he glanced at Dom’s back. “Take off that shirt.” Dom obeyed. “What in the name of Mithros did you get cut by?”
Reflexively, Dom craned his neck, trying to see the wound. All he knew was that it hurt like hell and that Mutasim had taken one look at him and ordered him to the healers. “No, you stay down. You!” Edem called, and someone came over, and firm hands pressed down on his shoulders. “Hold him down. If he fights me, whack him over the head. I won’t have enough for a complete healing,” Edem said drily, “So you’ll have to make do with a nice scar to show the ladies.”
A cool sensation blossomed in his back, and it felt as though the raw, aching wound protested raggedly for a moment and then was caked in ice, cutting off all sensations of pain. “Enough,” Edem said, and then the feeling ended. Dom tried to move, to test it, but was restrained. “Avoid quick movements and lifting your hand above your head. I’ve sealed it and those will tear it back open. Next!”
Hands helped Dom to his feet, and withheld the torn shirt when Dom reached back for it. “No, healer’s orders,” Evin Larse said, a wicked grin on his face. His own shirt was gone, revealing a half-healed scar along his abdomen. Any deeper, Dom thought, and it would have been bad.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, reflexively.
“Lost our squad healers,” Evin said easily, leading the way out of the tent that had become a temporary healer’s station. “So my Lord was kind and redirected us to take our wounded to your healers. So, what happened to your back?”
Dom shrugged. “Don’t know,” he said. “What does it look like?”
Cool fingers traced the line of muscle on his back, and as they stepped out into the chilly night, Dom shivered.
“Axe,” Evin said, finally. “Maybe an axe. If you’d taken it straight, you wouldn’t have been here.”
“So it’s a good thing I didn’t,” Dom replied.
Evin met his eyes with a crooked smile. “Probably,” he teased. “In any case, we’ll just have lovely scars to show the ladies.”
QC by: journeycat
Rating: PG
Word Count: 453 words
Pairing: Dom/Evin - Team Underpants
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Scars: or when Evin and Dom are both semi-naked
-
His shirt wasn’t anywhere near decent any longer, and Dom sighed. It was caked with dried blood and grime and he wasn’t sure which of it was his and which wasn’t. He was just cold, his clothing was damp, and his muscles ached so much that barracks training seemed like a pleasant fantasy.
“Lie down,” Edem instructed, and obediently, Dom lay face-down on the bedroll the healers had appropriated. Edem was from somewhere between Tirragen and the hill country, and he let out a rough curse as he glanced at Dom’s back. “Take off that shirt.” Dom obeyed. “What in the name of Mithros did you get cut by?”
Reflexively, Dom craned his neck, trying to see the wound. All he knew was that it hurt like hell and that Mutasim had taken one look at him and ordered him to the healers. “No, you stay down. You!” Edem called, and someone came over, and firm hands pressed down on his shoulders. “Hold him down. If he fights me, whack him over the head. I won’t have enough for a complete healing,” Edem said drily, “So you’ll have to make do with a nice scar to show the ladies.”
A cool sensation blossomed in his back, and it felt as though the raw, aching wound protested raggedly for a moment and then was caked in ice, cutting off all sensations of pain. “Enough,” Edem said, and then the feeling ended. Dom tried to move, to test it, but was restrained. “Avoid quick movements and lifting your hand above your head. I’ve sealed it and those will tear it back open. Next!”
Hands helped Dom to his feet, and withheld the torn shirt when Dom reached back for it. “No, healer’s orders,” Evin Larse said, a wicked grin on his face. His own shirt was gone, revealing a half-healed scar along his abdomen. Any deeper, Dom thought, and it would have been bad.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, reflexively.
“Lost our squad healers,” Evin said easily, leading the way out of the tent that had become a temporary healer’s station. “So my Lord was kind and redirected us to take our wounded to your healers. So, what happened to your back?”
Dom shrugged. “Don’t know,” he said. “What does it look like?”
Cool fingers traced the line of muscle on his back, and as they stepped out into the chilly night, Dom shivered.
“Axe,” Evin said, finally. “Maybe an axe. If you’d taken it straight, you wouldn’t have been here.”
“So it’s a good thing I didn’t,” Dom replied.
Evin met his eyes with a crooked smile. “Probably,” he teased. “In any case, we’ll just have lovely scars to show the ladies.”
QC by: journeycat