Adult Content Warning
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Summary
Distantly, between the vises of so many different layers of agony, Lee registers the peculiar warmth of the doctor's palm against his back. He must have warmed his hands over the fire before tending to Lee's wound, because they're no longer chilled by the frigid open air. It's much more pleasant now, less bracing. Fingertips fitted into the dips of his spine, a small touch that anchors him to sanity. It's light but steadying, a trivial feeling that Lee latches onto because it's the only thing in his world right now that doesn't hurt.
The notion has him reeling - he can't remember the last time he was touched gently, has to dig through memories from before Monmouth, before his time as a prisoner of war, even. He thinks of the prostitute he'd bedded in that tavern the night General Cornwallis learned of his whereabouts and arranged for his capture; even she hadn't been this delicate with him.
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A shamelessly self-indulgent fic that combines my favorite tropes of "nursing back to health" and "look at this gruff, boorish, aggressive, tough man..........please hurt him" and I apologize for nothing