Live Free or Die Hard Fanfic: "Scars"
Title: Scars
Fandom: Live Free or Die Hard
Characters: John/Matt
Rating: PG
Word Count: 836
Summary: "Holly wouldn't even look at it," John says softly.
Notes: Written for hc_bingo for the prompt "scars"
Scars
by Severina
The scar on John's shoulder is still red and inflamed, an angry welt. Matt traces it carefully with his finger, watches John's face for any sign of discomfort. But John just shifts on the bed, looks away toward the blank wall. If he's uncomfortable, it's not because of any physical pain.
"I know where you got this one, because I was there," he says, "watching you be completely insane and awesome. Or maybe that should be insanely awesome. I don't even know anymore." He licks a long slow swath of the wound with his tongue, smiles when John shivers beneath him, before pulling back to touch the other, older scar with the tip of his finger. "But what about this one?"
"Knife," John says, shrugging the shoulder. "Was fighting this guy on the wing of a 747."
"Dulles," Matt says.
John turns back to him then, arches a brow. "You know everything about me, kid?"
"The internet is a wonderful thing, McClane. You can find crazy things there. Like how some cop on his Christmas break working outside his jurisdiction blew up a plane filled with bad guys and saved thousands of people from crashing into the Potomac."
John shrugs again. "Wasn't that exciting, kid."
Matt's seen John go through a car chase, a helicopter explosion, and several knock-down drag-out fights without hardly breaking a sweat, so yeah, he can see where maybe a simple fight on the wing of a plane is no big deal. Right. He shakes his head, skims his hand down to John's chest. "And this one?"
John glances down at the puckered skin. "Bullet."
"Care to elaborate?"
"Nakatomi," John says gruffly.
Matt presses his lips together. From what little he's gathered, Nakatomi is still a sore spot. He makes a mental note to skip the feet on this little inventory. Instead he slides his hand to John's hip, traces the jagged scar there. "And this one."
John smiles then. "Broom handle. Some lowlife beating on his wife, back when I was still in uniform. Jesus, that was some night. First week on the job and first scar I ever got."
Matt swallows dryly. "First week?" he squeaks out.
"Third night," John says. "Me and Arnie Zerbrowski. Old Arnie took me to the gym after that, once I was healed up. Said if I'm gonna jump in to domestics it ain't enough to throw a good punch. I gotta learn how to avoid the punk when he gets pissed that I socked him one on the jaw, and keep outta the way of the jacked-up wife, too. Damn, never saw that broom comin'."
"Wait," Matt says slowly. "The wife stabbed you with a broom handle?"
"Broke it off, too," John laughs. "Damn, she had a hell of a swing for such a tiny little thing." John shakes his head, sobers a little. "Jesus, Holly was pissed. Thought for sure I was gonna get murdered on the job before we could even get married."
Matt grimaces into John's stomach. He has no intention or inclination to ever talk to John's ex, and up until now he'd actively worried about what would happen if the situation ever called for them to meet. The only thing he could possibly imagine they'd have in common was John, and he couldn't really picture them sitting around the table comparing blow job techniques. But now he realizes that he has more in common with Holly than he thought. Worrying. That is a common theme, he imagines, for the significant others of any cop.
Even though he's still not quite sure how he became the significant other of a cop, of all things.
"Holly wouldn't even look at it," John says softly.
Matt blinks, presses his lips softly to the old, faded scar. Makes his way slowly up John's body, kissing a path from one scar to the next. He ends at the long thin scratch on John's head, not quite deep enough that it will last but close enough for his needs. He licks gently at the wound, feels John shudder under his touch. "They make you beautiful," he murmurs.
It's easily the cheesiest, most ridiculous, most embarrassing thing he's ever said, and Matt freezes as soon as the words come out of his mouth. John freezes too, and Matt has a moment to think that's it, it's over, he's going to dump me because I'm a blithering idiot… and then John is tugging him down, pressing him into the mattress, kissing him in that swallow-you-whole drown-inside-you way that makes his brain turn to mush while he squirms and writhes.
Matt moans, skims a hand down John's body to pull at his hips. His fingers glide lightly over that old broom-handle scar, and John gasps into his mouth.
With what little is left of his brain function, Matt makes a mental note to pay close attention to John's scars. And to be as romantically, ridiculously cheesy as humanly possible.
He doesn't think either thing will be very difficult.
16 down, 9 to go. Getting down to the wire...
.
Fandom: Live Free or Die Hard
Characters: John/Matt
Rating: PG
Word Count: 836
Summary: "Holly wouldn't even look at it," John says softly.
Notes: Written for hc_bingo for the prompt "scars"
Scars
by Severina
The scar on John's shoulder is still red and inflamed, an angry welt. Matt traces it carefully with his finger, watches John's face for any sign of discomfort. But John just shifts on the bed, looks away toward the blank wall. If he's uncomfortable, it's not because of any physical pain.
"I know where you got this one, because I was there," he says, "watching you be completely insane and awesome. Or maybe that should be insanely awesome. I don't even know anymore." He licks a long slow swath of the wound with his tongue, smiles when John shivers beneath him, before pulling back to touch the other, older scar with the tip of his finger. "But what about this one?"
"Knife," John says, shrugging the shoulder. "Was fighting this guy on the wing of a 747."
"Dulles," Matt says.
John turns back to him then, arches a brow. "You know everything about me, kid?"
"The internet is a wonderful thing, McClane. You can find crazy things there. Like how some cop on his Christmas break working outside his jurisdiction blew up a plane filled with bad guys and saved thousands of people from crashing into the Potomac."
John shrugs again. "Wasn't that exciting, kid."
Matt's seen John go through a car chase, a helicopter explosion, and several knock-down drag-out fights without hardly breaking a sweat, so yeah, he can see where maybe a simple fight on the wing of a plane is no big deal. Right. He shakes his head, skims his hand down to John's chest. "And this one?"
John glances down at the puckered skin. "Bullet."
"Care to elaborate?"
"Nakatomi," John says gruffly.
Matt presses his lips together. From what little he's gathered, Nakatomi is still a sore spot. He makes a mental note to skip the feet on this little inventory. Instead he slides his hand to John's hip, traces the jagged scar there. "And this one."
John smiles then. "Broom handle. Some lowlife beating on his wife, back when I was still in uniform. Jesus, that was some night. First week on the job and first scar I ever got."
Matt swallows dryly. "First week?" he squeaks out.
"Third night," John says. "Me and Arnie Zerbrowski. Old Arnie took me to the gym after that, once I was healed up. Said if I'm gonna jump in to domestics it ain't enough to throw a good punch. I gotta learn how to avoid the punk when he gets pissed that I socked him one on the jaw, and keep outta the way of the jacked-up wife, too. Damn, never saw that broom comin'."
"Wait," Matt says slowly. "The wife stabbed you with a broom handle?"
"Broke it off, too," John laughs. "Damn, she had a hell of a swing for such a tiny little thing." John shakes his head, sobers a little. "Jesus, Holly was pissed. Thought for sure I was gonna get murdered on the job before we could even get married."
Matt grimaces into John's stomach. He has no intention or inclination to ever talk to John's ex, and up until now he'd actively worried about what would happen if the situation ever called for them to meet. The only thing he could possibly imagine they'd have in common was John, and he couldn't really picture them sitting around the table comparing blow job techniques. But now he realizes that he has more in common with Holly than he thought. Worrying. That is a common theme, he imagines, for the significant others of any cop.
Even though he's still not quite sure how he became the significant other of a cop, of all things.
"Holly wouldn't even look at it," John says softly.
Matt blinks, presses his lips softly to the old, faded scar. Makes his way slowly up John's body, kissing a path from one scar to the next. He ends at the long thin scratch on John's head, not quite deep enough that it will last but close enough for his needs. He licks gently at the wound, feels John shudder under his touch. "They make you beautiful," he murmurs.
It's easily the cheesiest, most ridiculous, most embarrassing thing he's ever said, and Matt freezes as soon as the words come out of his mouth. John freezes too, and Matt has a moment to think that's it, it's over, he's going to dump me because I'm a blithering idiot… and then John is tugging him down, pressing him into the mattress, kissing him in that swallow-you-whole drown-inside-you way that makes his brain turn to mush while he squirms and writhes.
Matt moans, skims a hand down John's body to pull at his hips. His fingers glide lightly over that old broom-handle scar, and John gasps into his mouth.
With what little is left of his brain function, Matt makes a mental note to pay close attention to John's scars. And to be as romantically, ridiculously cheesy as humanly possible.
He doesn't think either thing will be very difficult.
16 down, 9 to go. Getting down to the wire...
.