Eliot hissed as an ice pack was pressed against his head. Dean rolled his eyes.
“Dude, maybe if you didn’t insist on not using a gun this wouldn’t happen quite so often.” Eliot glared at him.
“I don’t-”
“Like guns. Yeah I know.” Dean sighed and began bandaging the nice bruise that was forming on Eliot’s abdomen. “Seriously though, you can’t keep this up.” Eliot tensed under his hands.
“I’m fine. I’ve been fine before and I’ll be fine later.”
“Yeah, I get that. And I believe it. But dude, your head is only so hard and there’s only so much ice can fix.” Eliot didn’t say anything as Dean continued to patch him up. When Dean was done he stood to clean up the mess around them only to be pulled back down by Eliot.
“I’m fine, Dean,” Eliot said, taking the other man’s face in his hands and forcing him to meet his eyes. “I can take care of myself and I know when I’m in over my head. That’s when I called you.” Eliot tried to smile at him but the bruise on his cheek turned it into more of a grimace.
“Yeah, okay. It’s just-” Dean didn’t finish, couldn’t tell him that Eliot was the only constant in his life right now and he didn’t think he could handle losing him. Eliot seemed to know what he couldn’t say because he pulled him in for a gentle, sweet kiss. The kind that the two of them, being who they are, never really shared.
They pulled back and Dean began cleaning up the medical supplies and bloody clothes while Eliot lay back on the motel room bed, holding the ice to the growing bump on his head.
“Fuck, that hurts.” Dean rolled his eyes.
“Suck it up. You should be glad that ice is all you need. I’m telling you, one day it’s not gonna be enough and then you’ll really be hurting.” Dean tried to hide his anxiety over that day beneath his flippant words. Eliot just smirked from the bed, seeing right through him.
“Dude, maybe if you didn’t insist on not using a gun this wouldn’t happen quite so often.” Eliot glared at him.
“I don’t-”
“Like guns. Yeah I know.” Dean sighed and began bandaging the nice bruise that was forming on Eliot’s abdomen. “Seriously though, you can’t keep this up.” Eliot tensed under his hands.
“I’m fine. I’ve been fine before and I’ll be fine later.”
“Yeah, I get that. And I believe it. But dude, your head is only so hard and there’s only so much ice can fix.” Eliot didn’t say anything as Dean continued to patch him up. When Dean was done he stood to clean up the mess around them only to be pulled back down by Eliot.
“I’m fine, Dean,” Eliot said, taking the other man’s face in his hands and forcing him to meet his eyes. “I can take care of myself and I know when I’m in over my head. That’s when I called you.” Eliot tried to smile at him but the bruise on his cheek turned it into more of a grimace.
“Yeah, okay. It’s just-” Dean didn’t finish, couldn’t tell him that Eliot was the only constant in his life right now and he didn’t think he could handle losing him. Eliot seemed to know what he couldn’t say because he pulled him in for a gentle, sweet kiss. The kind that the two of them, being who they are, never really shared.
They pulled back and Dean began cleaning up the medical supplies and bloody clothes while Eliot lay back on the motel room bed, holding the ice to the growing bump on his head.
“Fuck, that hurts.” Dean rolled his eyes.
“Suck it up. You should be glad that ice is all you need. I’m telling you, one day it’s not gonna be enough and then you’ll really be hurting.” Dean tried to hide his anxiety over that day beneath his flippant words. Eliot just smirked from the bed, seeing right through him.
“Not today.”
“No, not today.”
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