(Untitled)

[manusgemini]

He leaves Neil sleeping. He hasn't slept much himself. He's tried, rolling over and then over again, slinging an arm around Neil's waist and then turning away, over and over seeing the blood shockingly red on Neil's skin, the thrill of it and then Hobbes hurling him away

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[makes_a_law]

Tom was laying back on the made bad, struggling to change his bandages as he'd been shown at the clinic, hissing as the antibiotic sterilized the new skin. It was less red and less inflamed now, it actually looked healthy. He fancied that it was less painful, that his limp was less pronounced. Soon, he figured, maybe in the next two days he'd be hire-able.

He tested the edges of the wound and hissed. It kept his mind off other things.

Which, speak of the devil. Tom groaned, thumping his head back on the pillows, just in his boxers, pants folded neatly beside him.

"Here," he called weakly, resigned. It would have been easier to stay quiet but he didn't doubt that Mike would come find him. "I'm...here."

[manusgemini]

He headed down the corridor and stopped in the bunk's doorway, looking at the man on the bed, the bare thigh, all dispassionate because it's all he can manage that won't end in something stupid and possibly bloody.

He clears his throat. "How's the leg?"

[makes_a_law]

"Better," Tom admitted, looking down at the wound, fussing busily with the bandages. He cleared his throat. "Much better, actually. Not nearly as swollen as it was."

[manusgemini]

"Good," he says shortly, and then he just stares. His jaw still hurts. It's hard to overlook the thing that's sitting between them, massive and massively awkward.

Finally he pushes away from the doorframe with a sigh. "Look, you wanna drink?