Work Text:
“If you wanted some stew,” Edgin grunted, swinging the ladle at the gnoll, “you could've just asked.”
The gnoll cackled, a high and ragged sound, and parried with its mace – the force knocking the ladle from Edgin's hand.
Swallowing, Edgin stepped back. “Alright, fine. You don't like stew.” He glanced around for his lute. Shit, other side of the campfire. “We've got apples. You want an apple?”
Another strike from the mace –
Edgin jumped backwards, almost tripping over his bedroll. “Come on,” he panted, barely righting himself. “You can't complain about the food before you've tried it.”
But the gnoll just laughed, advancing on him. Edgin stumbled back, foot catching on the fabric – He teetered, arms flailing, trying to dodge –
The gnoll was faster, slamming that heavy mace into his gut. Edgin let out a rush of air, pain bursting across his stomach as he bent double, staggering backwards. His next inhale was almost a whimper as he turned his head, looking for Xenk, looking for help –
Xenk was fighting the other two gnolls. Kicking their asses, actually, even without his armour. Through the throbbing pain warping his thoughts, Edgin vaguely noticed that Xenk's sword wasn't glowing, which was weird – but that realisation shattered as his gnoll swung the mace again, right into his ribs.
Edgin choked, agony roaring across his chest. He tilted his head up, fear flooding him as the gnoll raised its weapon to strike again. “Xenk,” he choked, salt stinging his eyes, and then that mace connected again –
He saw stars as the impact knocked him back, desperately sucking in air, trying to recover before the next attack.
But as his vision cleared, he saw a flash of teal – Xenk barrelling in, shoving the gnoll away from him. Raw hope flared through the throbbing ache in his torso, as Xenk whirled and slashed and slammed.
Still bent over, clutching himself, Edgin almost smiled as the last gnoll turned tail and ran.
Barely panting, Xenk sheathed his sword and shifted close to Edgin, dark eyes serious.
“Thank you,” Edgin muttered, and sucked in a deep breath as he shuddered through the pain.
“I'm sorry, I was dealing with the other two,” Xenk said, gently laying his hand on Edgin's shoulder.
“It's fine,” groaned Edgin, attempting to stand up straight.
But that was a mistake, because every muscle in his torso flared with pain, lights flickering across his vision. “Shit,” Edgin breathed, knees wobbling, and grabbed for Xenk – but that didn't stop his legs from crumpling, didn't stop his vision turning black, didn't stop the agony.
For one moment he felt Xenk's strong arms slide around him, Xenk's solid chest pressed against him, and then everything winked out.
Groaning, Edgin cracked his eyes open, thoughts groggy and slow. As his vision swirled back into focus, he saw Xenk's handsome face above him. Realised he was half-lying on the hard ground, one of Xenk's arms behind his back. Holding him up, cradling him close. “Xenk?” he croaked, blinking. “I – Wha–”
“I believe you fainted, Edgin,” murmured Xenk, those dark eyes heavy with worry.
Edgin inhaled slowly, an ache throbbing all down his chest. “Yeah. Makes sense. Kinda in a lot of pain.” He attempted a laugh, but it just made his ribs hurt.
Xenk's brows twitched, one hand hesitantly reaching out. “I'm sorry, I saw no blood. I did not realise you were injured.”
Edgin groaned again, resisting the urge to clasp that hand. “Can you heal me?”
“Yes,” Xenk said, voice low and serious. “But I have used almost all of my magic. I will have to lay on hands.”
Heart skittering, Edgin gazed up at those dark eyes. “Right. Well. That's fine.” Oh, gods, Xenk was gonna touch him, gonna press in close, gonna press his hand right against his skin – but he was in too much pain to refuse.
“You will have to guide me,” Xenk said softly, hand hovering over him. “I cannot tell where you are hurt.”
Edgin sucked a breath through his teeth and nodded.
“May I?” asked Xenk, fingers brushing the edge of Edgin's shirt.
Swallowing, Edgin nodded again.
So carefully, so gently, Xenk peeled Edgin's shirt up to expose his stomach. “Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere,” groaned Edgin. But he reached out and wrapped his shaking fingers around Xenk's wrist, urging that steady hand against him.
Xenk's palm was warm upon his skin, and Edgin shivered – then moaned as healing magic flowed through Xenk's soft touch, such tenderness shimmering in those dark eyes.
“Fuck,” muttered Edgin as the pain ebbed a little, tense muscles relaxing into Xenk's embrace.
“You will have to direct me,” murmured Xenk, hand still pressed to his stomach.
Edgin nodded slowly, and guided Xenk's hand to the next spot, just to the side. More magic rippled into him, sweet and soothing, the ache fading beneath Xenk's touch. Without even meaning to, Edgin loosed a sigh, half in relief, half at the contact.
“That's it,” urged Xenk, his voice so soft. “Allow me to heal you.”
Inhaling a ragged breath, Edgin steered Xenk to the other side of his stomach, trying not to think about the way Xenk's hand felt against him. But with every drop of magic, his pain eased, and his mind had more room for those thoughts – more room to note the way the firelight flickered on Xenk's perfect features, to note the aching look in those eyes, note how gentle those strong hands were with him.
Xenk was even smiling at him, sad but fond, the corners of that gorgeous mouth just slightly curling upwards. Edgin tried not to think about that either, not to think how easy it'd be to kiss that smile from here, just to concentrate on guiding Xenk's hand to the next patch of throbbing skin – because Xenk was a paladin, and healing people was what he did. Caring was what he did. It didn't mean anything. Didn't mean that Xenk wanted –
But that didn't stop Edgin's heart from beating faster, fluttering in his chest as Xenk held him close, steady palm resting on his stomach.
“Is that all?” asked Xenk, when he'd touched his magic to every inch of exposed skin.
“No,” croaked Edgin, shivering as he looked into Xenk's dark eyes. Fuck, they were far too tender. “That asshole got me in the ribs too.”
Concern flickered across Xenk's forehead, but he brushed his fingertips over the raised hem of Edgin's shirt, waiting for Edgin to direct him, for Edgin to press his hand close again.
Edgin swallowed and urged him under the fabric, the pain still throbbing but so nearly gone, enough that his mind was now focused on the sensation of Xenk's gentle fingers curling over his chest. He could feel the rough texture of the man's callouses, gained through a century of wielding a sword – could feel every mote of that sweet magic sighing into him, soothing his aching body. Even without Xenk leaning over him, even without Xenk holding him close, even without that soft look in Xenk's eyes, there was something almost intimate about this.
A shiver rippled through Edgin as he guided Xenk's hand to his ribs on the other side, the last spot to heal, right over his heart. His pulse was thumping now, driven by Xenk's touch, Xenk's tenderness, and the rhythm only increased as that soft magic flowed into him and wiped away the hurt.
“There,” grunted Edgin, releasing Xenk's wrist, leaning back against the arm that held him up.
Xenk's forehead creased, eyes roving over Edgin's face, studying him almost suspiciously. “You are no longer in pain?”
“No, no, I'm all healed up,” Edgin assured him, attempting a smile, neither coming as smoothly as normal. He thought about sitting up, about escaping from Xenk's embrace, but Xenk was still leaning over him –
“Yet your heart is beating at such speed,” murmured Xenk, those dark eyes fixing him with deep concern, so tender it made Edgin's stomach clench.
Edgin forced out a laugh, finding his most casual tone. “I'm just not used to you touching me.”
A flicker passed across Xenk's face, almost melancholy, before his usual stoic expression returned. “I'm sorry, I did not realise you found my touch so distressing,” he said, voice strangely raw as he sat up straight. “I shall withdraw.”
“That's not –” Ice rushed through Edgin's veins at the sight of Xenk's regret, and he grabbed the paladin's retreating hand, desperate to mend the misunderstanding. “Xenk, that's not why.”
“You need not lie to spare my feelings,” Xenk said softly, no longer meeting his gaze. “Even I could tell you were uncomfortable as I healed you. I assumed it was merely the pain. I apologise for not being more considerate.”
“What?” Edgin gaped at him, squeezing his hand, words almost sticking in his throat. “Xenk, no. You – You are not the problem.”
Xenk turned those dark eyes back on him, heavy and aching. “Then you admit there is a problem?”
Edgin groaned, heart clenching tight. Fuck, Xenk had been so kind to him, and now he'd made the man think – “Xenk, it's not – I just – Shit, Xenk. You don't need to feel guilty. I should feel guilty. I liked it, okay?”
Xenk blinked at him. “You... liked it?”
Fuck. Fuck, he'd done it now. There was no way back. And he was probably just going to make things worse, but Xenk still looked like he was the wounded one, so he had – he had to say – “Yeah. I liked you touching me. Because I love you.”
Xenk's eyes widened. “Oh,” he murmured, and for a long moment Edgin's blood ran cold –
Then Xenk pressed his palm to Edgin's cheek, leaning down towards him. “I must confess, I thought my feelings were not returned.”
A laugh bubbled from Edgin's lips a moment before Xenk claimed them with his own, soft and warm and sweet, even more tender than that gentle healing. Edgin nudged into the kiss, savouring this new touch, the reality of it far better than all his guilty fantasies. Xenk's hand on his chest had been overwhelming, the yearning dragging him down like an anchor – and this was more overwhelming still, yet his spirit soared as Xenk's mouth moved against his.
Slow but urgent, they pressed together, sliding forwards, gliding back. Edgin parted his lips, eager to welcome Xenk in, desperate for a deeper taste now he was finally allowed a sip. Xenk took the hint, dipping his tongue in, warm and wet and almost hesitant – like he couldn't quite believe it, like he'd been alone too long.
Well, Edgin might not have lived a hundred years, but he understood that feeling. Moaning softly, he pushed closer, flicking his tongue out to meet Xenk's – flesh tingling at the contact. He melted into the kiss, revelling in that intimacy, that messy tenderness. Xenk's thumb gently brushed his cheek, steady arm still holding him up as they found new ways to fit together. And every discovery was sweet enough to ache.
Eventually they pulled apart, gasping and grinning.
“I ought to check on the stew,” Xenk muttered, eyes warm as the firelight.
“Probably,” chuckled Edgin, curling a hand round the back of Xenk's neck, urging him down again. “But I'm not done kissing you yet.”
Xenk's laughter dissolved against Edgin's lips.