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Now the adrenaline wore off, everything hurt like a bitch.
In his fairness, while used to taking rough falls and stumbles, (things that went hand in hand with skating) his body wasn't exactly used to this kind of malicious beating. See, at the time he could easily ignore it - it was a dull throb in his muscles, an ache in the back of his head, burning, serving to propel him further, igniting the fire of his passion and pushing him to his very limit - but now he was off the track, stuffed into the back of Shadow's cramped little car, he was seriously starting to regret letting his body take as much hurt as he did.
He felt dangerously dizzy. Not the normal kind, not like usual - it was typical that he'd be tired after a long night, but it was never like this. Feeling blood trickle irritatingly down his brow, he figured that was probably why his head was spinning. When did that happen again... When he was thrown off of his board? No, no, the few times that happened he'd only skinned his palms and his knees. He could tell from the icky damp on his jeans and how his hands felt like fire - how he could barely curl a finger without gritting his teeth to bite back a pained hiss.
Was it when he was dragged across the floor maybe? When his arm was gripped painfully, and his shoulder felt like it would pop, and his abdomen downward was yanked aggressively across the uneven, jagged floor? No, he didnt think so. He was pretty sure it was only his thighs and shins that took that beating. That was probably why he had to use Langa as a crutch, but not why his head felt though it was filled with cotton, and his eyes were swimming, and he couldn't hear the dull thrum of the car as it advanced down hazy yellow-lit streets.
Where was he again? Oh yeah. Car. He felt boneless against Langa. Langa was warm, like the car, and comfy..
What was he thinking about? He drew his brows together, thinking - causing the blood to leak further down the bridge of his nose. Right! He remembered.
So, if not those, how about when he was shoved forcefully into the craggy mountainside? How he could feel his skin give, and feel his muscles as they were assaulted by sharp rock digging into every crevace of his back, until he was bruised, battered and ruined? The back of his head felt wet. His hair was matted. Miya mentioned how ugly his bandana looked now. He couldn't imagine what it'd look like, muddy and red, and honestly he didn't want to.
He imagined that was why his head felt like it was splitting in two, and why his back felt searing hot, as if someone were pressing a branding iron to it and refusing to let up - no matter how ragged his breathing devolved, or how clouded his vision became. Was it because of tears or was his vision blotting with darkness? He was tired, and he genuinely couldn't tell. He wanted to lean into the inviting warmth of Langa's side. Langa's arm was wrapped around his shoulders, carefully, and it almost let him forget about how sore he was from head to toe. Almost, though - not quite.
It wouldn't really make sense for blood to travel down his brow if it was the back of his head that was bleeding though. So, it must've been when he latched his arms around.. And.. yeah, the fist, was thrust down into the crown of his head - ah. That was it, he remembered now. That gloved fist pummeled him until his deck was spotted with red, which only washed away once the rain picked up. That was why he was being annoyed by blood on his face. Damn. It was also probably why he tasted copper in his mouth - split lip, he recognised that one. Cause he bails a lot. It's what happens. He'll live. He just.. He's super tired..
"Hey.. Don't close your eyes yet. Please. It's just a little further now." Langa urged, his voice - though soft, softer than usual maybe - cut through the static filling his ears. It sounded muffled, like he was submerged under water, but regardless he did Langa asked, cracking his eyes open just a little. His vision was all swimmy and gross though and the lights were pissing him off cause it made his head spin even more.
"Tired.." He murmured. God, when did his voice sound so hoarse?
"I know. You can't sleep yet though. Have to get you home."
"Mm.. No hospital. I didn't break 'nythin', promise."
"Yeah.. But you might be concussed-"
"No 'm okay. Please. Just wanna sleep. Promise I'm fine. Okay?"
Ah. That reminds him.
"Sorry - didn't win, by the way, even though I promised we'd.."
"Jeez. That's what's on your mind?" He heard an endeared sigh - or at least, one that he hoped was endeared and not annoyed. "Course. That's so you. Dont worry though, if you ask me - actually, anyone that watched you, they'd agree - you won. Maybe you didn't come first but you won that race. Now everyone knows how amazing you are."
"Thanks. Skating is really fun. We won't skate together in the finals though."
"We can skate together everywhere else Reki."
"I know. Thanks for.. yeah."
"Yeah."
The thrum in his ears had calmed down a little now. Talking helped a little, and since it was Langa, it was even better.
He was home, then - he hadnt really realised the car had stopped until Langa had gotten out. Reki stared at him dumbly before Langa opened his door and offered a hand, which he grasped in his own, cringing intensely at the contact. He forgot about the pain until then, now it hurt more.
Despite how hazy everything seemed, he swore Langa winced too. Reki didn't blame him though. He was probably a mess - no - definetly a mess. Langa also hated blood, yet here Reki was, smearing it all over his poor friend's hands. Oops.
"C'mon, Reki." Langa ushered him toward the house, and inside. Reki went through his routine mindlessly, his body on aeroplane mode. Kicked off his shoes, set his skateboard down (albeit with trembling, stinging hands) and shakily made his way down the hall. Langa followed.
"'Re you staying?"
"I can. But I was just going to help you clean up and go. If you'll have me-" Reki interrupted him with a snort. "-then I'll stay."
"Sure, 'f you want."
"Okay. Do you need any help undressing?"
Reki's brain - or heart maybe? Was there much difference? - stuttered a moment. He probably would've had a greater reaction, face flushing and whatever else, if his brain didn't feel frazzled and sluggish, so he just shook his head and curled shaky fingers around the bottom of his mud and gore drenched hoodie. He bit his lip as he tried raising his arms over his head, the fabric brushing over his sore places uncomfortably, and god, when had his shoulders gotten so stiff? Bruised probably. Still, ow.
Langa approached him and gently pushed his hands under Reki's top.
"Arms up." Langa said. His voice was quiet, nearly blending in entirely with the tranquility enveloping Reki's cluttered bedroom. So soft..
"Reki?"
Oh, yeah. Reki raised his arms, grimacing, as Langa carefully peeled the fabric away from his ruined body. Reki looked at him carefully, not missing Langa's frown, and the crease in his brow. Reki was tired, and incredibly out of it, but he wasn't stupid. Langa hated blood and Reki was pretty certain he was soaked through with it.
"Sorry." Reki mumbled.
"For what?"
"You don't like.. yknow. Blood and stuff. Cant imagine how you feel looking at me right now."
"I don't like it sure, but I don't mind too much. Not if it's you."
Reki swallowed, eyes flicking to the floor. He was gonna say something stupid cause his brain was mushy. Copper slid down his throat. Ugh.
"Reki, where is your first aid kit? Sit on the bed too."
Too tired to argue, he plonked himself on the edge, and oh, the temptation to just lay down. He resisted but only because it was Langa. He pointed to a vague corner, and heard rustling before Langa walked back to him. He sat a few inches away maybe, and the box clicked open. Reki glanced over. Langa was grimacing, hard. He looked paler than normal.
"I can deal with it yknow." Reki offered.
"No you can't, liar. Let me. I just.. I mean, I saw what happened on camera, but seeing this up close.."
"Sorry."
"Stop it."
"What?" He huffed a curl of red from his eyes as Langa started disinfecting the abrasions on his back.
"You keep apologising."
"Sorry."
"Now you're doing it on purpose."
Reki's mouth quirked up at the corner, finding Langa's sigh of exasperation to be amusing. Unfortunately it didn't last long, since a particularly rough wound burned as Langa cleaned it. Reki bunched up the fabric of his bedsheets uncomfortably, and bit the inside of his cheek.
"Ah, sorry-" Langa started.
"Oi, you can't tell me off then immediately apologise. Dumbass." Reki scolded him half-heartedly, and huffed a laugh despite the sting. He couldn't see Langa roll his eyes, but Reki just knew thats what he did - because he knew Langa, and Langa knew him. Reki soon felt cool gel along his back, and oh, that was soothing. He near melted as Langa continued to dab and apply the ointment. Then came the plasters - Reki already came to terms with the fact he'd be more plaster than, well, himself by the time this was done with, but its okay. It's okay if it's Langa.
Must've been.. Maybe a half hour? A whole hour? Hell if Reki knew, it all kinda blended together in a hazy slur of gentle touches and burning aches. Maybe a word or laugh here and there. But Langa was done treating his back, and his arms, and shoulders, hands, chest, all of it - because he's Langa and he's just nice like that, braving his fear best he can just for Reki's benefit. It made him feel mushy - mushier, rather. If that was possible.
Langa tugged his headband off then, discarded it with the hoodie and wrinkled his nose at the sight of his hands. He looked grossed out.
"I'm gonna wash my hands, but also I'll get a flannel. You're tired so we can't properly wash your hair but we can try get out as much gunk as possible."
He looked up at Langa, with a sheepish smile. About to apologise for causing a fuss, he paused. Langa already said to stop that, and he wasn't going to mess this up again. So...
"Thank you." Reki said instead. Langa smiled at him and exited the room.
He layed back on his bed (or he would've if he didnt sting, so he gingerly lay on his side instead) and took a breath to calm his weak heart. Goddammit Langa, every time...
The clock ticked quietly. Then Langa came back.
"Sit up." Langa ordered, so Reki did. The warm, damp flannel was dabbed gently against the back of his head, and came away dark and muddy. All things considered, like the pain and whatever, Reki actually liked it a lot. It was very tender and he liked being close to Langa. He rest his forehead against his friend's collarbones, sighing quietly. Yeah, it was really nice.
"Don't fall asleep yet." Langa warned. Reki nodded half-heartedly, and after a few more dabs and strokes with the flannel, the movement ceased. "Get up and take your pants off. I'll go rinse the flannel while you do that." Langa said.
Reki hummed in acknowledgement and pulled himself up, nearly falling over as he was assaulted by dizziness. He winced, queasy, and undressed. Ow. He looked down at his raw legs. Double ow. He genuinely wouldn't be surprised if Langa fainted. Then they'd both be fucked, which was kind of amusing. He sat back down on the bed, and took bandaged hands to the first aid kit and set about cleaning up - hey, he was hurt but he was used to it, plus, he was basically doing Langa a favour at the same time so it was okay. He bit his lip.
Langa came back then, and joined him on the bed - Langa put his big hands over Reki's and all of a sudden, he didnt know how to think straight. He looked up at Langa, mildly alarmed - then blinked upon realising Langa was just taking over what he started. Oh. Why was he disappointed? Whoops.
Langa was being more gentle than Reki was, cleaning each wound and keeping his touch feather light, applying plaster after plaster. Reki snickered.
"'M gonna go broke buying plasters 'cause all mine are gone now." He complained half-heartedly.
Langa smiled at him. "I can get more for you?" He offered.
"No it's okay. Thank you."
Langa was done, then. He sat next to Reki after applying the last plaster.
"Can I sleep now? Please, dude, I'm like, seriously tired.." Reki asked, emphasising his point with a yawn. Langa nodded, closing the first-aid kit.
"Okay. Good night Reki."
"'Night Langa. Thank you."
"It's okay. I don't mind, so long as its you."
And if, after Reki drifted off to sleep, Langa pressed a small kiss to the top of his head - well - that was just for him to know.