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angelsandkings2010-05-04 04:24 pm
green) wrote in angelsandkings2010-05-04 04:24 pm
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ALL TOGETHER NOW! A comment fic meme!
brokengravity gave me admin privileges so I can bring you this for Three Weeks For Dreamwidth.
prompt//write//feedback
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It's not a stunt, it's my heart
"I'm just saying, it's a little hypocritical of you to be telling me off for getting hurt," said Brian, sitting up in obedience to Bob's prodding. He scowled to cover the pain as his muscles complained about the movement, but Bob just shoved the hot pack behind him and helped him lean back.
"I prefer to think of it as ironic," said Bob.
"Whatever," said Brian. "It's not like you haven't done stupid shit."
"You deliberately chose a job doing stupid shit," Bob retorted, retreating into the little kitchen of Brian's apartment. His voice carried clearly back into the lounge. "I think that means that the stupidity of your injuries trumps anything I have ever done."
"Bullshit," said Brian. He wanted to say more, but Bob stomped back in with a tube of Icy Hot and a scowl that failed to cover his worry.
"Shut up and take your pants off," he said. Brian looked at him for a moment before starting to laugh, stopping to huff weakly and clutch at his protesting ribs. "You know what I mean," huffed Bob. "I'm going to massage your legs before the muscles there completely seize up too."
"It's not the most suave invitation I've ever received," said Brian. "Also, I don't think I can get my jeans off by myself."
Bob rolled his eyes as he put down the tube and knelt on the floor next to Brian. Brian sucked in a breath as Bob's fingers slipped under his t-shirt to find the waistband of his jeans. Shuddering at the friction of Bob's fingers on the sensitive skin of his stomach, Brian tried to tell his body that Bob was just helping him because he was hurt. He hadn't been expecting Bob to actually help him with his pants/
"Did I hurt you?" asked Bob, looking up at Brian. Licking his dry lips, Brian shook his head. If it hadn't been for the fact that every breath hurt, he would totally have made some sort of crude joke or tried to defuse the tension he could feel starting to grow as Bob's fingers flicked the button open and pulled down his zip. "Lift up as much as you can," ordered Bob. His hands were gentle as he got Brian's jeans down over his ass and down his thighs. This wasn't how Brian was accustomed to being undressed by Bob and the tenderness of his hands and careful movements was as erotic as the sight of Bob kneeling at his feet. He hoped that the pain would keep his body under control as Bob pulled his jeans down his thighs, carefully easing the denim over the sorest spots.
"Nearly done," said Bob as he worked the denim over one foot and off. Brian raised his hand, ignoring his sore muscles, and carded it through Bob's hair.
"Hey," he said, smiling as Bob looked up at him.
"I'm going to give you a rub," said Bob. "A therapeutic one. Is this the time for you to be thinking about sex?"
"All Bob times are sexy times," said Brian. "Come here." He tugged on Bob's hair, smile growing wider as Bob shifted and leaned forward. Bob kept the kiss a chaste press of lips, hands planted on the sofa either side of Brian's hips so he didn't put any weight on him.
"This is healing massage for my dumbass boyfriend time," said Bob. Brian smiled again as Bob pulled back, just holding back a wince as his hand dropped from Bob's head and jarred his sore ribs.
"But after this, I get a blow job, right?" he asked. He watched Bob shake out his wrists and pushed aside his worry that Bob was using them too much.
"No," said Bob. "After this, I haul your old man arse to bed and rub your back and then you sleep."
"Aren't you even going to hold me?" Brian asked. Bob stopped in the middle of squeezing some of the cream out onto his palm and looked up at Brian.
"Don't joke," he said. "You could have died today, and you're lucky I'm rubbing your fucking legs instead of shouting at you like I really, really want to."
Rubbing his hands together, Bob slapped his palms down briskly on Brian's legs and started rubbing, possibly a touch rougher than was really comfortable. Looking down at his bent head, Brian couldn't really fault him. He hadn't realised just how bad it must have been for Bob when he got the call to come and pick Brian up from the hospital after he'd been checked over.
"I didn't almost die," said Brian.
"I didn't know that," said Bob. "I just got the call to come to the hospital. No details, just an address. I didn't know if I was going to be picking you up or making all those fucking decisions that no one wants to have to make."
"Sorry," said Brian. "I didn't know that they didn't tell you anything."
"I just," started Bob. He stopped and Brian could see the back of his neck turning red and feel the tremble of his fingers on Brian's thighs. Sliding his hands back into Bob's hair, moving one to cradle his face, took effort that made Brian's back ache. Bob wouldn't look at him, just leaning forward to press his face to Brian's belly. "I was worried," he said, finally. Brian stroked his hands through Bob's hair and down the back of his neck.
"I love you," he said. "And I'm sorry that no one told you anything and you were worried. But I'm fine."
"This time," said Bob. He sat back, keeping his face down, and Brian's arms dropped back to his side as Bob's fingers started massaging again, slower and easier this time. Brian let his fingers work the cream in and felt the warmth starting to spread. He wondered how long Bob had been scared for, if he was scared enough to say something now. He'd never been particularly communicative about his feelings. Brian could still remember how awkward he'd been when they'd first gotten together and how long it had taken him to be comfortable saying anything. Brian couldn't think of anything to say to Bob's fears now, so he just watched him work out what it was that he felt and wanted. Bob's fingers looked large and pale against Brian's skin, spanning over the muscles of his legs competently and with affection. Bob's strokes slowed; Brian could see the tension slowly easing from his shoulders.
"I'm not going to ask you to stop," Bob said. Brian let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. "Just. I love you too."
Brian couldn't help but beam helplessly at the top of Bob's head. It still felt good to hear it; Bob so rarely said the words even after all this time.
"Come here," Brian said. "I don't care about the fucking therapeutic fucking rub. Kiss me."
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Thank you thank you thank you so much. This is PERFECT.
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