Page 173 of Pistols and Plush Toys

He took his time, working diligently to clean Nikolai’s ravaged body. Over and over, he soaped up the washcloth and rinsed it out, as the water from the shower turned pink from the last of the blood washing down the drain. Elliot was especially gentle around Nikolai’s face, hands, and rib cage, taking care to not put any pressure on the hurts.

Nikolai was silent through the process, but his expression was rapt, watching Elliot’s every move. Elliot focused on doing a good job, refusing to let his mind wander over to the realization that they were both naked together, the most intimate Elliot had yet been with Nikolai. This wasn’t the time or place for those thoughts.

When Nikolai was clean, Elliot had him sit on the small shower bench built into the far wall so that he could wash Nikolai’s hair.

Nikolai sighed as Elliot started to work the shampoo through his hair, the first sound he had made since the shower had started. Elliot couldn’t help the smile that sprung forth at hearing it, a small indication that he was helping make Nikolai feel good. He spent extra time washing Nikolai’s hair, rubbing down the nape of Nikolai’s neck, and around the ears into the temple, pressing his thumbs in as Nikolai made little contented sounds.

After Elliot directed Nikolai back under the spray to rinse out the shampoo, he quickly soaped himself up and washed and rinsed his hair. He held his hands under the spray when he was done with the rest of him, scrubbing at his nails. There was blood stuck in the cracks and crevasses and he wanted it gone. He needed to be clean. Didn’t want even a speck of blood left behind to remind Elliot that Nikolai almost—that he almost—

“Elliot,” Nikolai said, carefully taking his hands after a little while. “All clean. Okay? All clean. Time to dry off.”

“Okay,” Elliot whispered, blinking rapidly, forcing himself to look away from his hands.

Nikolai reached back to turn off the water, then led Elliot out of the shower by the hand. He retrieved a towel from the alcove, then turned back to Elliot, holding it up.

Elliot reached a hand out to take it, distantly realizing he was shaking. Nikolai frowned and stepped close, beginning to towel Elliot dry.

“Your arm—” Elliot started.

“I’m okay,” Nikolai said as he gently wiped the towel over Elliot’s damp skin. Elliot’s protests died in his throat. “We’re both here and safe.” Nikolai met Elliot’s eyes. “I’m very glad you’re here with me.”

“Me… me too,” Elliot said. “I’m glad I’m here with you too.”

Nikolai nodded and pulled back only to pluck a robe off a nearby hook. He held it open, and Elliot stepped into it, wrapping himself up. The robe was big—made to fit a large man like Nikolai, and so it swamped Elliot’s slighter form.

He liked being wrapped up in it.

Elliot watched as Nikolai dropped the towel into a hamper and picked up another, toweling himself dry with much less care. He wrapped the towel around his hips when he was done, then reached out and took Elliot’s hand to lead him out of the steamy bathroom.

In Nikolai’s bedroom, Nikolai directed Elliot to sit on the bed, then strode into his closet. He emerged with two sets of T-shirts and drawstring pajama pants, offering one to Elliot.

The clothes hung on him, too big, but Elliot liked wearing them almost as much as he liked wearing the robe. It was nice to wear Nikolai’s clothes. It was like he was wrapped up in Nikolai.

“I’m thinking we are both tired,” Nikolai said, after he had dressed and had hung up his robe. “Maybe it would be good to rest for little bit?”

Elliot felt like he was about to collapse whether he wanted to or not. “Okay.”

Once again Nikolai took his hand, though this time he led Elliot around the side of the bed. Elliot watched as Nikolaiturned the covers down and then, at Nikolai’s head tilt, Elliot climbed the extra height and into the bed. Nikolai went around to the other side, touching a switch on the bedside table that dimmed the bedroom light and drew the shades.

There was the sound of plastic and tape in the silence. Elliot looked in the dimness to see Nikolai taking off the covering on his arm. Then Nikolai climbed in under the covers, and Elliot shuffled in close, needing to touch him, needing to feel the warmth of Nikolai’s skin, the steady working of his heart and lungs.

His eyes fell shut as Nikolai’s arms curled around him, the injured one set over him gently.

“I have you,”he thought he heard Nikolai whisper into his ear, but Elliot was already drifting off.

***

Elliot woke slowly, the grogginess lingering. He was aware first of a hand in his hair, a pleasant tingling of nerves as fingers worked from the nape of his neck up, and then back down. He made a soft sound of pleasure and pushed into the touch.

Someone chuckled above him, low and deep and all-over fond.

Elliot forced his eyes open and met Nikolai’s gaze. Elliot’s head was in his lap, and Nikolai was stroking his hair, blue eyes filled with soft affection.

“Nikolai…?” Elliot’s voice was rough with sleep.

“How you are feeling?” Nikolai asked. His thumb pressed into a muscle behind Elliot’s ear and Elliot’s lashes fluttered. Fuck, it felt so good.

“I’m… I’m okay.” More of his brain came back online and Elliot remembered what had happened prior. His eyes went to Nikolai’s other arm, which was resting at his side, bandaged. “But—your arm—”

---