Work Text:
The aftermath of a Wild Hunt outbreak is never pretty. Even when the Lightkeepers suffer no lives lost, there are still wounds to tend and scars to last a lifetime. Illuga knows his squad has suffered heartbreaking losses in the not-so-distant past, and the fact that they all made it back alive this time is something to celebrate.
Well, he would celebrate, if he wasn't bedridden with a nasty wound crawling up the expanse of his left side. During the outbreak, he'd put the pain to the far corners of his mind, unaware just how much he was bleeding until it was all over and he fell to his knees, his comrades rushing to his side to drag him back to the camp.
It had been a hasty bandaging job by Rollon at camp before Illuga was forced to rest. Now, he squints his eyes at a ray of light shining in through a slit in his tent. As thankful as he is for the light — for it means the Wild Hunt has been temporarily chased off — he lifts an arm to block it, but even the slight movement causes him to groan in pain, alerting the Ratniki sitting guard outside the tent.
"Young Master Illuga?"
The title immediately clues Illuga in on who approaches him; after all, no one else but Flins would call him something so frivolous.
Illuga cracks open one eye to take a look at Flins, who leans over him. "Sir Flins," he says, though his voice comes out ragged. "I don't believe that guarding the Captain's tent is often one of your responsibilities."
Flins grins at him, pulling up a chair and taking a seat beside the cot. "And if I were to tell you the Starshyna himself put me up to the task?"
"I'd say that the old man is indulging me."
"Perhaps so," Flins responds, his hand finding Illuga's and entwining their fingers. "But you deserve nothing less than whatever you so desire after your recent show of determination and bravery." He pauses, dragging his thumb across the scarred skin of Illuga's hand. "Continuing to fight so long after an injury — it is on the verge of foolishness."
Illuga sighs. "And here I thought you were content to flatter me."
"Rollon told me he had to peel your clothing off of your blood-soaked skin. Master Illuga, forgive me for my worry, but it is sincere."
"Would you not do the same? Continue to fight, knowing the odds?" Illuga questions, averting his gaze to the ceiling of the tent, eyes tracing the wrinkles in the tarp. When Flins makes no move to respond, Illuga clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth and says, "See? So, no more from you."
Flins lets out a long breath. "All right," he says, "I only—"
"No more."
Now, Flins laughs, a light and fluttery thing. "Okay, okay."
Illuga allows his gaze to fall back to Flins, who in turn scans over Illuga's body. Illuga is shirtless, though bandaging covers most of the skin of his torso, wrapped to secure the wound on his side.
Flins hums. Illuga raises an eyebrow.
"I think we've ought to change your bandaging," Flins says seriously, his hand coming to graze over the blood-stained wrap. "Would you like me to fetch Ivan?"
Illuga swallows thickly. "You have first aid knowledge, do you not?" he asks, full well knowing the answer. All Ratniki do, though not all Ratniki are doctors like Ivan. However… the less people to see Illuga in this state, the better.
"If you'd prefer me to do so, all you need to do is ask," Flins responds with a soft smile, and Illuga's heart beats hard in his chest.
"Please," he says.
"Very well, Young Master," Flins replies, standing to sanitize his hands before he returns to Illuga's side. Illuga manages to sit up, albeit painfully, and Flins begins to unravel the bloodied bandages with his gentle hands.
Flins leans in close as he works, carefully and lovingly peeling bandage from raw flesh before applying clean supplies to the wound. Illuga winces at the pain, and as Flins applies the new wrap, he presses a kiss to Illuga's bare shoulder, sending a shiver down Illuga's spine.
"Allow someone to take a better look at you once you return to Piramida," Flins requests, his mouth still close to Illuga's skin. He kisses Illuga's shoulder once again, then trails his lips down Illuga's arm to a scar that runs the length of his bicep.
"Flins," Illuga breathes as Flins hand comes to caress Illuga's opposite arm, "Is this — is this necessary? Someone could walk in any moment."
"Are you embarrassed to be loved, Master Illuga?" Flins teases, trailing kisses up Illuga's forearm and all the way to his fingertips. His other hand traces small, soothing circles against Illuga's shoulder. Illuga's heart thumps wildly.
"I'm not. It's just," Illuga clears his throat. "You are pampering me."
"Indeed, I am. Do you dislike it?" Flins asks, pausing his movements, lips hovering millimeters from Illuga's palm.
"Dislike — Flins, you misunderstand. I just believe there's a time and place."
Flins smiles, lips pressing into Illuga's palm, before he says, "The time — after a grueling battle. The place — well, the privacy of your tent. Surely your squad knows better than to invade your privacy at a time like this."
Illuga sighs, but there's no real frustration in it. Truthfully, Illuga's squad does know to leave Illuga be when Flins is involved. They don't ask questions — not that they need to, considering Flins is… not quite subtle.
Still, Illuga has a difficult time allowing himself to just… accept being doted on. He can feel his face turn red. Flins pays this no mind, continuing his barrage of kisses, now leaning ever-closer to Illuga and touching his lips to Illuga's collarbone.
"Please, relax," Flins says, feeling the stiffness still held in Illuga's muscles. He trails his fingertips across Illuga's bare shoulder blades, then up to the back of his neck, twirling his fingers in the hair there. "I want to ease your pain."
Illuga obliges, feeling himself melt into Flins' touch. His side still aches, but Flins' hands on his body are a wonderful distraction. Flins traces scars, peppers kisses against freckles, and hums against the hollow of Illuga's throat, eyelids fluttering shut as he breathes against Illuga's skin.
Illuga is in no state for things to progress much further, but Flins is well aware of that fact, and indeed might scold Illuga if he tried. However, Illuga is beyond content with this, with Flins' gentle, warm touch grazing across his skin.
And then Flins makes his way to Illuga's face, kissing his eyelids, his freckle beneath his eye, the line of his jaw…
Illuga is almost feeling impatient by the time Flins finally presses their lips together — were he in better shape, he would push Flins down onto the cot and kiss him silly, but for now he relishes in the languid kiss that Flins offers him. He drinks Flins' warmth as Flins leans him back against the cot, their lips not parting.
"Rest, now," Flins says against his lips, "I'll be here when you wake."
Illuga allows Flins to lead him into restful sleep.