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Flashing lights flicker around him, the pain in his jaw and the taste of copper fills his mouth as he falls onto the canvas. Bald Bull hears the referee counting, but it sounds like it’s miles away, he struggles to get his arms to work and pull himself up.
“9… 10. Knock out!” An eruption of cheers sounds out around him, the noise making his head spin. Tightly closing his eyes, he sits up, wiping a hand down his face. He lost. Slamming his hand down onto the canvas, he shakily gets to his feet. Bull tumbles forward slightly, grabbing onto the ropes in an attempt to keep his balance. He opens an eye, looking towards, the now celebrating, Little Mac. Drifting his gaze further to the left, he makes eye contact with Doc Louis. A worried look was directed at him, but he looks away swiftly. He didn’t need Louis’ pity.
Bald Bull’s walk to the locker room was eventful. Paparazzi knew better than to get into his face, snapping pictures from afar instead. Bull’s patience wore thin with every flash of the camera. The WVBA’s medic team tried approaching him, only to get brushed off by a stern glare and a snarl. Slamming the hallway door shut, he took heavy steps towards his destination. Thankfully, the hallways are usually empty at this time of night. Soda exits the locker room, bag slung over his shoulder. Loud footsteps alert him to Bull, he winces at the state he was in. Standing in front of the door, Bull approaches him, staring at him with a stern glare. Bull’s nostrils flare, he stands stiffly motioning for Soda to get out of his way. Placing a firm hand on his shoulder, Soda sighs.
“Make sure to take care of yourself.” Giving him one more sympathetic pat on his shoulder, Soda leaves. Ripping the door open, he kicks it shut, rattling the frame. The fluorescent lights hum above him as he slumps down onto the bench. Bald Bull grits his teeth, removing his gloves and throwing them against his locker. Looking down at his hands, he feels the sting of tears in his eyes. Desperately trying to blink them away, Bull looks over himself in the large mirror across the room. His lip is split, fresh blood trickling down his chin, there’s a large bruise on his brow and a small cut along his nose. His face is a mess, and his stomach doesn’t look any better, covered in dark purple marks and blood from his lip. Taking a deep breath, he looks away and opens his locker, taking out his duffle bag. Bull, too busy cursing to himself as he roots through his bag, doesn’t notice the telltale sound of someone coming into the locker room. A short cough alerts Bull of their presence. Growling and steeling himself to chew out the person bold enough to approach him.
“Kahretsin, get lost before a throw you out.”
“Woah! I didn’t mean to startle you, Bull.” His eyes widen as he whips his head around to see Doc Louis standing there, a small first aid kit tucked under his arm. Bull’s expression hardens, raising an eyebrow at him in confusion.
“What are you doing here.” Louis chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Well, baby-“ Bull’s eyes narrow as his nostrils flare. “Sorry, sorry, force of habit! I saw you shove off the medics, and I wanted to check in on you.” Huffing slightly, he pulls his towel out of his bag, slinging it around his neck. Bull stands up, towering over Doc as he folds his arms.
“Yardım etmeni istemiyorum.” Louis moves closer, pointing a finger at Bull’s chest.
“Uh un, don’t be like that. It’s either I patch you up, or I get the medics to come in and do it for me.” Bull growls, rolling his eyes and sitting back down. Louis waits patiently, giving Bull a moment to collect his thoughts. Taking a deep breath, Bull hesitantly averts his gaze.
“İyi. Be quick about it.” Louis cracks a smile, opening the kit and grabbing some alcohol wipes.
“Right on, just like old times. They don’t call me Doc for nothing, right, Bull?” He grunts in response to the question, flinching as Louis gently holds his hand up, removing his hand wraps. Switching hands, Bull stretches his fingers, sighing in relief as the tight fabric was removed. Louis looks over his hands, checking for any pain or fractures before letting go and reaching into the kit again. Lowering his head and awkwardly running his hands together, Bull mumbles out a question.
“Where’s that ‘champ’ of yours? You two are normally inseparable.” Bull spits out the last part, still sore about the match.
“Son’s busy with an interview right now, he doesn’t need ol’ Doc’s help with that.” Doc smiles as Bull lets out a snort of a laugh. Opening up an alcohol wipe, he pauses for a moment.
“I’m going to have to touch your face, is that alright?” He nods and grunts out an affirming noise. Bald Bull quickly averts his eyes as Louis places a soft hand on his cheek, the other dabs the wipe on his nose gently. The sting of the alcohol distracts him from the heat rising to his face. Once done, he sets it down and grabs a bandage from the pack. Louis’ tongue sticks out slightly in concentration as he lines up the bandage properly. Bull’s intrusive thoughts get the better of him and he mumbles under his breath.
“Çok tatlısın-“ Bull’s face flushes in embarrassment as he moves his head away. Louis places a gentle hand on his shoulder, a sympathetic smile on his face.
“I know it hurts, baby, but let me just put this bandage on you.” He hesitates a moment, then takes a breath of relief, Louis didn’t understand he just called him cute. Closing his eyes, he allows him to finish placing the bandage on his nose. Keeping his eyes shut, he hears the rustling of a cloth, the quiet humming of a tune he doesn’t recognise, the fluorescent lights buzzing above him. He feels a cool cloth gently press against his busted lip, the feeling of his too-tight boots, the warmth of Doc’s hand so close to his face. It’s all somewhat comforting and overstimulating at the same time. He remembers when him and Louis used to train together, both wanting to outperform the other. Bull recalls a particular time when he fractured his hand, a prank gone wrong if you will. Louis’ panicked expression and insisting on patching him up and taking him to the hospital, it was endearing. It wasn’t a big deal for Bull, having been through worse before, but Doc insisted that he stayed with him at the hospital and stayed a night to make sure he took care of it. The cool fabric of the cloth was removed, and a bandage was put in its place. Doc puts a hand on top of Bull’s.
“You’re real handsome, you know that?” Bull’s eyes snapped open as a faint blush rises to Louis’ cheeks.
“Sorry, was that too far?” He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, completely unable to form and sort of sentence.
“Beni sevdin mi?” Doc’s eyebrows pinch, he lets out an awkward laugh.
“I don’t quite understand what you’re sayin’, baby- I mean BULL! Sorry again.” Bald Bull’s expression softens slightly, he’s picking up on Louis’ flush and stiff posture. He tilts Louis’ head up slightly, leaning in but pausing in case he wants to push him away. Soft hands pull him into a kiss. Bull’s mind was buzzing, the gentle press of lips against his, the feeling of hot breath on his skin, the faint calluses of the pads of Louis’ fingers. Pulling away, he looks into Louis’ eyes, he beams up at him with a big smile, warming Bull’s heart.
“I’ve been waiting for a while to do that, sucka.” He playfully punches Bull’s arm, chuckling. Smiling, Bull pulls him in for another kiss, mumbling against his lips.
“I’ve been waiting for a while too.”