[Side-story] His Blood
Title: His Blood
Author: b_sim
Characters/Pairings: Hyde(Hideto), Gackt(Satoru)
Genre: General
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Satoru loves everything about Hideto. Everything except his blood.
Notes: Done on a whim, so don't expect too much from it, lol.
Prompt: from esstellionn - Hideto's blood
Disclaimer: Do not own anyone.
Satoru loved everything about Hideto. Satoru loved the way he walked, the way he talked and the way he handled himself. Hideto was, in Satoru’s eyes, perfect. Even though the man was ‘defiled’, as some villagers had put it so kindly before, Satoru saw nothing but perfection. Yes, his lord had a demon and yes, he might have been slightly more vertically-challenged than most men and yes, he had a problem with cursing and couldn’t cook, but Satoru thought he was perfect the way he was. From the way Hideto opened his eyes in the morning, to the way he would pet Satoru on the head, mumbling a ‘good morning’, to the way he ate… Satoru loved it all. He couldn’t find a single thing he disliked about Hideto.
Or, at least he thought he couldn’t.
It was a soft groan that woke Satoru up in the middle of the night. He was still a light sleeper, instincts instilled in him from years of living on the street. He had only just recently come to live with Hideto and no matter how hard he tried, Satoru couldn’t seem to shake this habit of waking up at the slightest sound or movement. He knew he was safe though, but his movements were still jerky and quick when Hideto moaned in pain again, curled up on his side and facing away from Satoru. The samurai had just returned from a battle the day before, wounded. His wound in his side had been patched up and there was a bandage over it, and Hideto had constantly assured Satoru that he was fine, so the servant had left it at that. Now, though, Satoru knew for sure that not everything was alright. Hideto was still asleep, whimpering softly, perspiring. He had one hand resting on his side, on his wound and when Satoru, curious and worried, pulled back the covers just a little, his eyes widened and a soft gasp escaped him.
There, beneath Hideto’s hand and above the bandage, was a huge red blot.
Having lived in harsh conditions for years, Satoru had, more or less, gotten used to the sight of blood. So he wasn’t exactly sure why this would shock him. But it did nonetheless and, trembling just a little, he reached a thin hand out and shook Hideto gently. “Hideto… Hideto, wake up…”
The young lord immediately did, eyes cracking open and then hissing in pain as he consciously felt the pain for himself, feeling his hand damp with something warm and wet as well. He turned his eyes onto his hand, groaning softly when he saw the blood - great, his wound had been reopened. He soon turned his eyes on Satoru though, concerned, knowing how much the servant hated blood. Satoru, though used to it, still hated the sight of blood. It disgusted him and only brought bad memories of the randori which had killed his family. But, for some reason, seeing Hideto’s blood only made him want to stay even more.
“…that needs to be treated,” Satoru said softly, entire form trembling still. Immediately, he reached both hands out, moving Hideto’s away gently.
“Sa-chan, it’s alright… I can go see the doctor; you don’t have to,” Hideto cut in immediately, holding one of Satoru’s hand with his clean one. “I know you hate blood.”
“Please, just let me…” the servant pleaded softly, meeting Hideto’s eyes with his own. And the amount of emotion Hideto saw surprised him. In Satoru’s eyes, he saw a battle. A conflict. A clash of fear and love. Fear, of what he’d see under this bandage. Love, because he loved Hideto and just wanted to take care of him. There were more emotions than that, Hideto could see, but all so fleeting that he couldn’t seem to grasp onto any others. So he just nodded, relaxing again and wincing but remaining silent as Satoru slowly pulled away the bandages, leaving him half-naked. Satoru bit his lip at the sight of Hideto’s wound - it was a long cut, almost as long as Satoru’s hand itself, and the stitches were messy and now bloody. The cut was smeared with blood, and Satoru could see a small opening near the top where blood was oozing out from. All at once, remedies and solutions scrambled into Satoru’s head as he tried to think of how he’d help Hideto. The easiest and first thing that came to Satoru was herbs. Hideto and he had collected several herbs from the woods before, knowing they could be crushed and watered down to be used as medicine for the weak servant. Now, though, it seemed it’d be used for the samurai instead.
Hideto couldn’t see what was going on in Satoru’s head though, more focused on the man himself. “You alright? You’re starting to look a little pale, Sa-chan…”
“Herbs, you need herbs,” Satoru told his lord, getting to his feet and then making his way to some drawers, opening the top one and then looking through the bottles, looking for the correct label. Hideto just watched silently as Satoru found the bottle he was looking for and then, grabbing a bowl and stone, started crushing down the herbs. Satoru, kneeling next to Hideto as he worked, looked up at the older man, smiling wryly. “It should stop the bleeding and help speed up the healing process… You might feel a slight burning sensation though.”
“It hurts already, though…” Hideto protested with a soft whine. Smiling sheepishly, Satoru leaned down and pressed a whisper-soft kiss to Hideto’s forehead.
“I know, but it’ll be worth it, I promise.”
“Okay…”
Just a minute later, Satoru placed down the rock, determining that the herbs were crushed enough. There was a green, slimy and thick substance in the bowl now, from where crunchy herbs used to lay. Satoru dipped two fingers into the bowl, scooping up a generous amount of the medicine and then started to apply it to Hideto’s wound, hand shaking and trembling. Both Hideto and Satoru shuddered at the touch. Hideto, because it hurt. And Satoru, because he could feel the stitches beneath his fingers and the feel of it was freaking him out. Ignoring the feeling as much as possible, Satoru applied the herbs along the entire scar, jumping a little when Hideto hissed in pain, eyes shut. Once he was done, he immediately got to his feet to get a wet cloth and bandages, returning to Hideto’s side to clean the wound and then replace his bandages. Hideto was already half-asleep by the time Satoru was done.
“Nngrh… Thanks, Sa-chan…” he mumbled before yawning, eyes half-lidded.
“Rest, Hideto,” was Satoru’s soft command, accompanied with a kiss to Hideto’s temple. The young lord needed no further prompting before his eyes closed all the way, the burning sensation in his wound the last thing on his mind. Satoru pet Hideto for a few seconds, stopping only when he was sure the older man was asleep. Once he was, he headed out to the backyard and started washing the bowl and the rock, disposing of the bloody bandages at the same time, movements quick and jerky. He just wanted to go back to sleep and forget this ever happened. It was only when he was washing his hands that he slowed down, eyeing the red stains of blood on his hands.
He started to shake more.
Satoru closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm down. He could still feel the warm blood on his hands, could feel the bumpiness of the stitches as he applied the herbs to Hideto’s wound. He could still see the red, so profound and so much. He could still hear Hideto’s whimpers and groans of pain. Satoru remembered the fear he felt when he saw the bandages stained with blood, remembered the shock and uneasiness he had felt when the wound had been revealed and he remembered the nausea that attacked him when he actually touched the blood itself.
Satoru opened his eyes and looked at the blood on his hands. Shaking still, he slowly moved it towards the running water from the tap in their backyard, watching as the water washed the red away. His eyes followed the red water as it moved towards the drain, disappearing forever. The uneasiness he felt, however, remained. Biting his lip, Satoru dried his hands, turned off the tap and then returned back to the room, slipping into bed next to a slumbering Hideto. The last thing on his mind, before he fell asleep, was about how much he hated Hideto’s blood.
Hideto was perfect. And Satoru loved many things about him.
Just not his blood.
Notes: It’s 1:24am, and I honestly think that this could’ve been much better. But I’m not totally upset with it either. Then again, I haven’t written anything in so long, I think I’ll accept any kind of work from myself now, lol.
Author: b_sim
Characters/Pairings: Hyde(Hideto), Gackt(Satoru)
Genre: General
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Satoru loves everything about Hideto. Everything except his blood.
Notes: Done on a whim, so don't expect too much from it, lol.
Prompt: from esstellionn - Hideto's blood
Disclaimer: Do not own anyone.
Satoru loved everything about Hideto. Satoru loved the way he walked, the way he talked and the way he handled himself. Hideto was, in Satoru’s eyes, perfect. Even though the man was ‘defiled’, as some villagers had put it so kindly before, Satoru saw nothing but perfection. Yes, his lord had a demon and yes, he might have been slightly more vertically-challenged than most men and yes, he had a problem with cursing and couldn’t cook, but Satoru thought he was perfect the way he was. From the way Hideto opened his eyes in the morning, to the way he would pet Satoru on the head, mumbling a ‘good morning’, to the way he ate… Satoru loved it all. He couldn’t find a single thing he disliked about Hideto.
Or, at least he thought he couldn’t.
It was a soft groan that woke Satoru up in the middle of the night. He was still a light sleeper, instincts instilled in him from years of living on the street. He had only just recently come to live with Hideto and no matter how hard he tried, Satoru couldn’t seem to shake this habit of waking up at the slightest sound or movement. He knew he was safe though, but his movements were still jerky and quick when Hideto moaned in pain again, curled up on his side and facing away from Satoru. The samurai had just returned from a battle the day before, wounded. His wound in his side had been patched up and there was a bandage over it, and Hideto had constantly assured Satoru that he was fine, so the servant had left it at that. Now, though, Satoru knew for sure that not everything was alright. Hideto was still asleep, whimpering softly, perspiring. He had one hand resting on his side, on his wound and when Satoru, curious and worried, pulled back the covers just a little, his eyes widened and a soft gasp escaped him.
There, beneath Hideto’s hand and above the bandage, was a huge red blot.
Having lived in harsh conditions for years, Satoru had, more or less, gotten used to the sight of blood. So he wasn’t exactly sure why this would shock him. But it did nonetheless and, trembling just a little, he reached a thin hand out and shook Hideto gently. “Hideto… Hideto, wake up…”
The young lord immediately did, eyes cracking open and then hissing in pain as he consciously felt the pain for himself, feeling his hand damp with something warm and wet as well. He turned his eyes onto his hand, groaning softly when he saw the blood - great, his wound had been reopened. He soon turned his eyes on Satoru though, concerned, knowing how much the servant hated blood. Satoru, though used to it, still hated the sight of blood. It disgusted him and only brought bad memories of the randori which had killed his family. But, for some reason, seeing Hideto’s blood only made him want to stay even more.
“…that needs to be treated,” Satoru said softly, entire form trembling still. Immediately, he reached both hands out, moving Hideto’s away gently.
“Sa-chan, it’s alright… I can go see the doctor; you don’t have to,” Hideto cut in immediately, holding one of Satoru’s hand with his clean one. “I know you hate blood.”
“Please, just let me…” the servant pleaded softly, meeting Hideto’s eyes with his own. And the amount of emotion Hideto saw surprised him. In Satoru’s eyes, he saw a battle. A conflict. A clash of fear and love. Fear, of what he’d see under this bandage. Love, because he loved Hideto and just wanted to take care of him. There were more emotions than that, Hideto could see, but all so fleeting that he couldn’t seem to grasp onto any others. So he just nodded, relaxing again and wincing but remaining silent as Satoru slowly pulled away the bandages, leaving him half-naked. Satoru bit his lip at the sight of Hideto’s wound - it was a long cut, almost as long as Satoru’s hand itself, and the stitches were messy and now bloody. The cut was smeared with blood, and Satoru could see a small opening near the top where blood was oozing out from. All at once, remedies and solutions scrambled into Satoru’s head as he tried to think of how he’d help Hideto. The easiest and first thing that came to Satoru was herbs. Hideto and he had collected several herbs from the woods before, knowing they could be crushed and watered down to be used as medicine for the weak servant. Now, though, it seemed it’d be used for the samurai instead.
Hideto couldn’t see what was going on in Satoru’s head though, more focused on the man himself. “You alright? You’re starting to look a little pale, Sa-chan…”
“Herbs, you need herbs,” Satoru told his lord, getting to his feet and then making his way to some drawers, opening the top one and then looking through the bottles, looking for the correct label. Hideto just watched silently as Satoru found the bottle he was looking for and then, grabbing a bowl and stone, started crushing down the herbs. Satoru, kneeling next to Hideto as he worked, looked up at the older man, smiling wryly. “It should stop the bleeding and help speed up the healing process… You might feel a slight burning sensation though.”
“It hurts already, though…” Hideto protested with a soft whine. Smiling sheepishly, Satoru leaned down and pressed a whisper-soft kiss to Hideto’s forehead.
“I know, but it’ll be worth it, I promise.”
“Okay…”
Just a minute later, Satoru placed down the rock, determining that the herbs were crushed enough. There was a green, slimy and thick substance in the bowl now, from where crunchy herbs used to lay. Satoru dipped two fingers into the bowl, scooping up a generous amount of the medicine and then started to apply it to Hideto’s wound, hand shaking and trembling. Both Hideto and Satoru shuddered at the touch. Hideto, because it hurt. And Satoru, because he could feel the stitches beneath his fingers and the feel of it was freaking him out. Ignoring the feeling as much as possible, Satoru applied the herbs along the entire scar, jumping a little when Hideto hissed in pain, eyes shut. Once he was done, he immediately got to his feet to get a wet cloth and bandages, returning to Hideto’s side to clean the wound and then replace his bandages. Hideto was already half-asleep by the time Satoru was done.
“Nngrh… Thanks, Sa-chan…” he mumbled before yawning, eyes half-lidded.
“Rest, Hideto,” was Satoru’s soft command, accompanied with a kiss to Hideto’s temple. The young lord needed no further prompting before his eyes closed all the way, the burning sensation in his wound the last thing on his mind. Satoru pet Hideto for a few seconds, stopping only when he was sure the older man was asleep. Once he was, he headed out to the backyard and started washing the bowl and the rock, disposing of the bloody bandages at the same time, movements quick and jerky. He just wanted to go back to sleep and forget this ever happened. It was only when he was washing his hands that he slowed down, eyeing the red stains of blood on his hands.
He started to shake more.
Satoru closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm down. He could still feel the warm blood on his hands, could feel the bumpiness of the stitches as he applied the herbs to Hideto’s wound. He could still see the red, so profound and so much. He could still hear Hideto’s whimpers and groans of pain. Satoru remembered the fear he felt when he saw the bandages stained with blood, remembered the shock and uneasiness he had felt when the wound had been revealed and he remembered the nausea that attacked him when he actually touched the blood itself.
Satoru opened his eyes and looked at the blood on his hands. Shaking still, he slowly moved it towards the running water from the tap in their backyard, watching as the water washed the red away. His eyes followed the red water as it moved towards the drain, disappearing forever. The uneasiness he felt, however, remained. Biting his lip, Satoru dried his hands, turned off the tap and then returned back to the room, slipping into bed next to a slumbering Hideto. The last thing on his mind, before he fell asleep, was about how much he hated Hideto’s blood.
Hideto was perfect. And Satoru loved many things about him.
Just not his blood.
Notes: It’s 1:24am, and I honestly think that this could’ve been much better. But I’m not totally upset with it either. Then again, I haven’t written anything in so long, I think I’ll accept any kind of work from myself now, lol.