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Inigo never was too fond of love. The only thing he can confidently say he loved was his father,after all he did train for a decade to avenge him. The Spaniard would occasionally shoot his shot at the pretty ladies in the bar after downing multiple bottles of brandy, but that wasn’t love. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to love. Love made him weird, soft, vulnerable, and he never wanted to be vulnerable ever again. He couldn’t be vulnerable again. Fezzik was the only one he’d been (accidentally) defenseless around, but that surely didn’t mean anything. They were bound to be close after months of forced proximity due to Vizzini. Inigo was a lot of things, but he wasn’t weak. At least, that’s what he liked to believe.
It has been a few months since he’d finally avenged his father and killed the six-fingered man for good. It didn’t feel real to him, he’d spent over half of his life fantasizing about it, but now that it was done he felt nothing but emptiness in his chest. Inigo never truly thought about what he’d do after the fact, the only thing consuming his mind most days was the death of his father, and the only things he could feel were anger and a sort of quiet numbness.
He should be happy, he thought. He was living pretty alright for himself considering everything, he’d take on sword fighting bets against commoners and would always win, thus helping him gain enough money to sustain himself and Fezzik, who lived alongside him, would help out by selling home grown vegetables and fish at the market. But nothing made him feel as alive as he once felt. He didn’t have any hobbies, he wasn’t particularly skilled at anything else but fencing, and didn’t have any other company than Fezzik. Fezzik wasn’t all that bad, in fact, he was actually quite pleasant. His little rhymes would always manage to make a smile crease across Inigo’s face. The way the giant was always happy to help made his chest feel a warm sort of tightness, like he couldn’t breath properly. Either that or it was the multiple stab wounds he gained from fighting Count Rugen taking a toll on him. Now that he thought about it, Fezzik was the only thing positive in his life. Inigo struggled to get himself up in the mornings, sometimes he even struggled to feel motivated to do anything, but Fezzik never judged him or scolded him, he just softly encouraged him. And that was more than enough. Sometimes he found himself staring at the man longer than he should have, noticing how his eyebrows furrowed when focusing, noticing the way his curls fell upon his face, noticing how he’d instinctively looked for Inigo when nervous, noticing things he definitely should have brushed aside.
Inigo was stuck in his own head, berating himself for every emotion he was feeling. His foot anxiously tapped on the floor, his hand tightly gripping his hair. His breathing became shaky, the hangover headache pounding at his skull. His teeth gritted, he felt scared. There wasn’t any good reason to be scared, he was in his own home, sitting at the dinner table, alone and safe. But he didn’t feel safe, no, he never felt safe. He was always on edge, always alert until-
“Inigo?” A concerned voice came from behind.
Ah. How long has Fezzik been there?
“Fezzik!” Inigo sputtered, stiffening up as he spun around to see the concerned, pitiful expression on the other man’s face.
Fezzik just stared at Inigo for a few seconds, his eyes softening.
“Do you need something?” Inigo managed to say as normally as he could.
“No.” Fezzik paused and tilted his head. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t like that question. He never knew how to answer it.
“I’m good, Fezzik. Don’t worry about me.”
“But-“
“Please.” Inigo gritted his teeth and smiled, more than just a hint of desperation in his eyes. He couldn’t talk about this, not here, not now.
Fezzik sighed and sat beside him. “Fair enough.” He laughed under his breath, deciding to not push any further. That’s what Inigo liked about him. He’d ask politely, listen to what you said, and back off if you didn’t want to share. He didn’t pry like everybody else. But a part of Inigo wanted him to pry, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to open up unless Fezzik asked him too.
“You get enough sleep, my friend?” Fezzik shifted the conversation.
“Mhm. About enough sleep I can get with these bandages on.” He winced through his teeth, his words bringing him back to the reality of his body. The wounds from his revenge plan left him in pain as they healed, anytime he moved his shoulders or torso, it felt like he was being stabbed in again.
“I can imagine.” Fezzik glanced at the Spaniards torso, thinking for a moment. “How have you been healing?”
“Mng.. It’s alright. It just stings when I move sometimes. But that’s nothing I can't deal with.”
Suddenly, Fezzik’s large, gentle hands slowly and cautiously touched Inigo's side.
“Hnngh-“ Inigo tensed, his index finger had brushed up against the bandage on his stomach wound.
“Ah, sorry.” Fezzik quickly retracted his hands and pursed his lips. “That bad, hm?”
“No-no-..I’m fine, Fezzik. Really, I am.” Inigo smiled, but his face was tight, his hand tightly clenched around itself.
“Come, let me see how they’re healing, yeah?” Fezzik smiled, scooting the chair closer and experimentally placing his hands under the hem of his shirt, eyes looking up expectantly, waiting for an answer.
“If you must..” Inigo turned his face away. “You’re a very incessant man, do you know that?” He chuckled.
“I got it from you.”
Fezzik made sure to remove Inigo’s shirt with care, not wanting it to brush up against anything painful. He could tell Inigo had been sweating, but brushed it off and began to remove the first bandage, the one on his shoulder. He figured that would be the least painful.
Inigo slowly became relaxed again, the giants focused fingers carefully removed the bandage. It did feel at least a little nice to let the wound get some air. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to look at it. He was a little ashamed he got injured in the biggest battle of his life against the man who murdered his father, but he knew Fezzik wasn’t going to judge him.
Fezzik studied the wound, it hadn’t been too large of a cut, but it was quite deep. It had some redness around it, which could be a sign of infection. He frowned before getting up to retrieve a healing mixture he’d gotten from a local traveler while relocating after the whole ordeal with Westley and Buttercup, it wasn’t cheap, but he knew it’d come in handy soon.
He brought the ointment, along with a warm towel. Carefully, he dabbed some on the wound, wiped off the excess, and bandaged it up with He then did the same for the rest of the injuries, removing the bandages, cleaning them up, and plastering fresh bandages on top. Inigo winced and groaned a few times, but he toughed it out at the end.
When he’d finally finished, inigo felt sore and sweaty. He hadn’t even been the one doing anything, yet he felt totally exhausted, and of course, Fezzik noticed.
“You should go lay down.” He suggested, placing a warm hand on Inigo’s waist to help him up into bed. Fezzik was always a little flustered by Inigo, but didn’t see anything intimate with the contact he was making. That feeling arose in inigo’s chest again, that warm, tight, cozy feeling. It surely was because of the bandages, and not the fact this kind, gentle, handsome, large man was offering him help to stand up.
“Mm..Fezzik-Fezzik.”
He loved how Inigo said his name. Fezzik then paused and looked at him, waiting for him to speak.
“My shirt-“
“Oh. Yeah, right. Sorry about that.” Fezzik carefully put Inigo back in his seat and picked up the shirt on the table, helping him put it on without a second thought. Inigo couldn’t help but be charmed at Fezzik’s care for him.
“Do you still want to lay down?” He asked.
“Mhm..Yes.” Inigo groggily replied, leaning on Fezzik more than he needed. Fezzik didn’t mind, He knew inigo would do the same for him. As the two made their way to the bed, the giant couldn’t help but notice how different Inigo was with him. Not a bad kind of different, he just felt more..real around him. He knew the Spaniard had issues, so did he. He wouldn’t trade him for the world.
“Fezzik.” Inigo’s words brought Fezzik back to reality, they were standing right in front of the bed and he didn’t even notice.
“Ah, sorry my friend” Fezzik was able to lift Inigo up entirely, his left hand holding his torso and head, and his right in between the underside of his knee. He gently placed him in bed, Inigo groaned, his eyes fluttered open and closed, his arms spread out above his head.
“Stay here, Inigo. Get some rest.” Fezzik rubbed his thumb against the smaller man’s cheek, and inigo leaned into it.
“Thank you, you’re the best.” Inigo muttered back, feeling clever for his simple rhyme.