Work Text:
Mauga’s size was both a gift, and a curse. It gave him his strength, allowing him to plow through enemies with ease and be an exceptionally useful tool of destruction. But it also necessitated the extra large operating table that he was currently laying on top of. He tapped his fingers idly, staring at Baptiste, his brow furrowed in concentration. He’d spent many a night like this, lying on an operating table (sometimes multiple) as someone worked on patching him up after he’d been a bit too reckless on a mission. The fluorescent lighting in the operating room was like a comfort to him at this point as the cold, sterile hospital air raised goosebumps on his chest. He was too big for anesthesia, Baptiste was too afraid of jeopardizing Mauga’s hearts. Usually it was Baptiste who worked on him as Moira refused to work with him unless absolutely necessary (on account of his “insolence”). But he didn’t mind a bit. He trusted Baptiste as much as one could considering the line of work they were in.
“I’d appreciate it if you could stop staring at me, you’re messing up my concentration.” Baptiste said suddenly, knocking Mauga out of his thoughts.
Mauga chuckled, “What? Does my gaze make you nervous?” He teased.
Baptiste smirked at Mauga, looking up at him over his glasses, “More like it makes me uncomfortable.” He looked away before grabbing a threaded needle at his side and pressing it through Mauga’s skin, pulling tightly. Still, Mauga didn’t react; the pain barely registered in his mind. He’d felt much worse, his artificial heart served as proof of that. Baptiste finished the procedure quickly, his efficiency was something that Mauga always appreciated.
Baptiste removed his gloves and turned his back to Mauga to attend to matters at his desk.
“I would tell you to take it easy, but I know you won’t listen to me anyways. You’d be ok if you want to head back to your room, but you know I’d never turn down your company here.” He said, not turning back to look at him. He didn’t need to, he knew Mauga was holding on to his every word.
“Well, if you’re begging so nicely how could I resist?”