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Timmy sat on his bed, examining the cut on his palm. Blood sliding down his wrist. “Maybe we should've walked around the fence,” he muttered.
“I didn't force you ” Kevin muttered back. Timmy shrugged. “Yeah. But I wanted to seem cool anyways.” Kevin knelt down with the first aid kit. “You’re an idiot.” Timmy held his hand out. “Yeah, as if you're any different.”
Kevin’s fingers paused around Timmy’s wrist. Timmy didn’t look away. He held Kevin’s gaze, steady, like if it was cutting through him. Kevin cleared his throat and focused on cleaning the wound. Timmy watched quietly, almost too quietly.
"You’re good at this, Spencer.” Timmy teased. “Shut up,” Kevin muttered, wrapping the bandage. Timmy smirked a little. “It’s a compliment.” “I don’t want a compliment from you. " Kevin snarled back.
“You looked really focused.” Timmy leaned slightly forward. “It’s kinda nice.” Kevin yanked the bandage tighter than needed, mimicking his how heart jumped at that. Timmy hissed. “Ow! gentle, man.”
“I am gentle,” Kevin snapped.
“Yeah,” Timmy said softly, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “you kinda are. Pretty rare."
Kevin’s breath jammed in his throat. Allen materialized behind them with a, “Wow broken head, you really have it bad. When's you gonna take it from the arse? .” Kevin threw the bandage roll at Allen’s imaginary fat annoying imbecile face.
Timmy blinked at the air. “..You good, Spencer?” “fine." Kevin said, his voice stern and unfaced.
Timmy flexed his bandaged hand, smiling like the world wasn’t violently embarrassing. “Thanks,” he said, quieter. Kevin shoved the kit away. “Whatever. Don’t bleed on me.” Kevin bumped his shoulder lightly on accident while pushing it. “I won’t. I'll give you cough syrup for this." Kevin actually stopped breathing for a second, his eyes concentrated on Timmy's face, who was staring at his lightly red stained bandaged hand. He never noticed Timmy had soft hands. Whatever.