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Medkit huddles over the table, hunched forward in a weary slouch. A slight shiver crawls up his spine, the cold air biting at his exposed skin. Weariness etches itself on his face as he lets out a tired huff, shifting his gaze towards the ticking of the clock.
It's freezing.
The relentless cold bites at every inch of Medkit's body, sending shivers down his spine that settles a chill into the very marrow of his bones. Even within the supposed comfort of his own home, he can feel his hands turn a light blue, swirling into his knuckles.
Medkit grips the mug he's holding within his two palms, a slight scowl making its way onto his face. Even after his years of working with Blackrock, the freezing temperatures were something he never got used to. He feels his heart quicken its pace at the thought, so he decides to turn his attention back to the mug instead, his palms attempting to absorb the heat from the coffee.
He misses Hyperlaser.
Such a childish way of thinking.
Medkit takes another sip of the thick liquid, his frown deepening. The feeling used to be foreign, but now it seems to be everything but. A feeling Medkit used to want to suppress down into the very bottom of his heart that always managed to claw its way back to the top, the feeling that managed to sink it's talons into the pit of the beating organ, ripping it over and over and over—
And the mercenary would always be the one to salt the open wound.
Medkit puts down the now cold coffee, pressing his thin cold fingers against the temple of his forehead. He allows a shaky sigh to escape through his chapped lips, his lidded eyes gazing at the clock that hung proudly above the stove. He should be here any second now.
But unfortunately, his mind would never allow him to have the peace and trust in himself he so badly craved. Medkit felt a surge of worry break through his senses, his chest beginning to rise and fall at a much faster pace then it should be. The medic puts down the mug with a trembling hand, anxiously pushing himself away from the seat as he started to pace around, feeling worry so strong that it could consume him if it would have liked.
What if he’s hurt?
…
Gods.. what if?
The idea was enough for nausea to flow through Medkit’s body, his breath stilling at the very thought. His heart thumped rapidly, Medkit wasn’t even sure that it was possible to care about someone this much, an idea he abandoned years ago.
As time continued on, the thoughts did not stop the flow that instilled fear and anxiety into Medkit. If it weren’t for the familiar sound of keys jingling and that same knock he’s heard many times before, Medkit is almost certain that his heart would have burst right there in the living room.
Medkit's eye snapped open to the door as he caught the sight of Hyperlaser stumbling through the door. The deer couldn't help but feel relief, the tension and anxiety began to dissipate. His tail flicked, and the medic released a breath he didn't know he was holding.
The mercenary clumsily shuts the door behind him with a boot, the door closing with a click. Hyperlaser fixes his gaze through the helmet towards Medkit, feeling his heart already turn into soft mush.
“Medkit,” Hyperlaser greets. Medkit can almost sense that small smile behind the bulky helmet.
After a few moments of silence, Medkit blinks and he finally manages to find his voice.
“Hyperlaser.” He greets back.
But Hyperlaser notices the slight tremble in his voice that gives his boyfriend away instantly. A scowl forms on his scarred face, but he chooses not to voice his concern, for Medkit’s sake. He recognizes that some of Medkit’s barriers still stand firm. In fact, one could argue that he is in a similar position. He acknowledges the stag with a nod, albeit with a hint of skepticism.
Medkit usually doesn't let himself be vulnerable, yet as he settled into the comforting curve of Hyperlaser’s neck, he surrendered to the soothing warmth that silenced the persistent doubts in his mind, The thoughts that made him want to flee, to run away and never show such a display of feelings ever again.
But the soothing touch of nimble fingers that raked through his hair was sufficient to bring him back to reality. Medkit emitted a soft hum, his tail rhythmically tapping against the mattress in content. .
Medkit adjusted his position to properly face the Mercenary, his single eye falling on the other.
He loves Hyperlaser.
His cheeks tint into a teal blue at the thought. Of course he loves Hyperlaser. His heart never fails to flutter every time he feels rough hands intertwine with his soft ones, every time a kiss is planted on his freckled cheeks, the simplest things are enough to make him spiral like a young fawn all over again.
Medkit, with a sense of reluctance, extends a hand to caress the other’s mangled skin.
He senses the other flinch at the touch, yet he suppresses the urge to retract his hand. Instead, he peers at the mercenary through a lidded eye, noting the coarse texture between his fingertips. He can practically feel Hyperlaser melt underneath his touch, coming undone with something as simple such as this.
“Hyperlaser,” Medkit greets again.
“Medkit.”
And Medkit could feel his shallow breaths sync with Hyperlaser’s steady heartbeat.