It was easier once Sam turned around and Eliot was no longer under his
gaze. Taking up the sponge, he moved into position behind the injured man
to carefully clean up the mess. He had seen it up close before, but on the
bed, in those circumstances, it had been a cursory look at best, but
running the sponge along their edges showed Eliot just how bad it was. And
since Sam didn't act like these were anything special, Eliot surmised they
will heal, eventually. Yet when compared to Sam's scarred back, Eliot knew
there was the distinct possibility that these were but passing wounds that
wouldn't leave a single scar.
His hand inadvertently moved from the slash to trace a long scar that
crossed beneath it. What else had Sam experienced that didn't leave any
marks on his body?
"That would be... nice." It had been weeks since Eliot could stretch his
legs when he slept. The cage was only long enough to allow him to half bend
his legs at most, and every time he got out, his limbs and back were stiff
from the semi stress position. On the other hand, he noticed Sam slept
curled up by choice at the foot of the bed.
He put away the sponge to lay his hand in Sam's shoulder instead. Then
picking out the tension, he kneaded the muscles to help loosen the muscles
to make relaxing easier. "You have anythin' I can put on your back?"
Sam slowly did begin to relax, little by little, between the working of the sponge and the kneading of Eliot's fingertips. He felt safe with the other man, protected, and he bent into each touch gratefully, particularly toward the end, sighing softly as he persisted.
He gave his head a shake, finally, at the question, rolling his hips forward and moving away from the touch to his shoulder. He'd settled in far too much, and he peeled forward the rest of the way, lifting his toe to the step and pulling himself out of the bath. This time he padded as far as the pile of towels, crouching down briefly to snatch one of them and bringing it across his shoulder, flinching and scrabbling awkwardly for the other side of it.
"This is Hell," he said, stating the obvious pretty much. "It's not like they pack a first aid kit."
He gestured to the towels. "Could you maybe scrub my hair dry. I can't get to it like this, and to be honest... I just want to go to sleep. That's the best thing for me."
Eliot had guessed as much but he thought it wouldn't hurt to ask and hoped
to be surprised. But regardless, it was good to see Sam was able to relax
despite his condition and Eliot was almost reluctant to let him go when he
pulled away.
Eliot followed Sam up, face stern when he saw the man's difficulty with the
towel. "Yeah," Eliot answered, stepping up behind Sam, "Lemme."
He made short work of toweling off Sam's hair, then carefully padded his
back dry too. The bleeding seemed to have stopped while they were in the
water, as impossible as that seemed, but it meant Sam was healing and Eliot
knew it was a good sign. Only when Sam was taken care of did Eliot make
quick work to dry himself as well. Save it felt strange, that Sam was
injured while he remained unscathed this time.
Looking up, enjoy realized that by the time he was done, Sam had already
moved to the bed. He followed, feeling awkward but a sense of relief as
well. It would be nice to have a bed under him again, even if it was for
only one night. "So how does this work?"
Sam dropped the towel back into Eliot's hands, and let him go to work on drying him, grateful for how gentle he was with the towel, and the fact that he was considerate of his pain at all. Sam didn't resent his resistance at all--had their positions been reversed, Sam would have done just the same. He probably would have let Lucifer go to town with the dildo, too.
Eliot had been kind to him, and Sam wasn't going to forget that any time soon. That was why he was encouraging Eliot to sleep with him on the bed; it was reward and forgiveness both.
"We stay down this end, otherwise he knows. You can't sleep in the bed. It's reserved for people, and we aren't people."
That was very blunt, but Sam didn't even acknowledge it thus, just carefully edged down onto it.
"Maybe if you slot up against my back--that way I can curl up. I feel safer in that position."
Eliot understood, not what they were reduced to, but the oppression that
existed even when the Devil wasn't there. He sat on the edge while Sam
curled up, resting a hand on his shoulder like a lover would have after sex.
"I shouldn't be against your back," Eliot reminded him gently. "should give
it space to air dry."
But Sam insisted, so Eliot moved in, careful to give the man a little gap
at least before he very tentatively curled up behind the other man. The bed
was narrow for him to properly sleep sideways across so he put his hand on
Sam's waist, half to keep himself from falling off the edge and half to
assure the man he was there. With the two of them settled, Eliot closed his
eyes. It has been a tiring day.
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It was easier once Sam turned around and Eliot was no longer under his gaze. Taking up the sponge, he moved into position behind the injured man to carefully clean up the mess. He had seen it up close before, but on the bed, in those circumstances, it had been a cursory look at best, but running the sponge along their edges showed Eliot just how bad it was. And since Sam didn't act like these were anything special, Eliot surmised they will heal, eventually. Yet when compared to Sam's scarred back, Eliot knew there was the distinct possibility that these were but passing wounds that wouldn't leave a single scar.
His hand inadvertently moved from the slash to trace a long scar that crossed beneath it. What else had Sam experienced that didn't leave any marks on his body?
"That would be... nice." It had been weeks since Eliot could stretch his legs when he slept. The cage was only long enough to allow him to half bend his legs at most, and every time he got out, his limbs and back were stiff from the semi stress position. On the other hand, he noticed Sam slept curled up by choice at the foot of the bed.
He put away the sponge to lay his hand in Sam's shoulder instead. Then picking out the tension, he kneaded the muscles to help loosen the muscles to make relaxing easier. "You have anythin' I can put on your back?"
no subject
He gave his head a shake, finally, at the question, rolling his hips forward and moving away from the touch to his shoulder. He'd settled in far too much, and he peeled forward the rest of the way, lifting his toe to the step and pulling himself out of the bath. This time he padded as far as the pile of towels, crouching down briefly to snatch one of them and bringing it across his shoulder, flinching and scrabbling awkwardly for the other side of it.
"This is Hell," he said, stating the obvious pretty much. "It's not like they pack a first aid kit."
He gestured to the towels. "Could you maybe scrub my hair dry. I can't get to it like this, and to be honest... I just want to go to sleep. That's the best thing for me."
no subject
Eliot had guessed as much but he thought it wouldn't hurt to ask and hoped to be surprised. But regardless, it was good to see Sam was able to relax despite his condition and Eliot was almost reluctant to let him go when he pulled away.
Eliot followed Sam up, face stern when he saw the man's difficulty with the towel. "Yeah," Eliot answered, stepping up behind Sam, "Lemme."
He made short work of toweling off Sam's hair, then carefully padded his back dry too. The bleeding seemed to have stopped while they were in the water, as impossible as that seemed, but it meant Sam was healing and Eliot knew it was a good sign. Only when Sam was taken care of did Eliot make quick work to dry himself as well. Save it felt strange, that Sam was injured while he remained unscathed this time.
Looking up, enjoy realized that by the time he was done, Sam had already moved to the bed. He followed, feeling awkward but a sense of relief as well. It would be nice to have a bed under him again, even if it was for only one night. "So how does this work?"
no subject
Eliot had been kind to him, and Sam wasn't going to forget that any time soon. That was why he was encouraging Eliot to sleep with him on the bed; it was reward and forgiveness both.
"We stay down this end, otherwise he knows. You can't sleep in the bed. It's reserved for people, and we aren't people."
That was very blunt, but Sam didn't even acknowledge it thus, just carefully edged down onto it.
"Maybe if you slot up against my back--that way I can curl up. I feel safer in that position."
no subject
Eliot understood, not what they were reduced to, but the oppression that existed even when the Devil wasn't there. He sat on the edge while Sam curled up, resting a hand on his shoulder like a lover would have after sex.
"I shouldn't be against your back," Eliot reminded him gently. "should give it space to air dry."
But Sam insisted, so Eliot moved in, careful to give the man a little gap at least before he very tentatively curled up behind the other man. The bed was narrow for him to properly sleep sideways across so he put his hand on Sam's waist, half to keep himself from falling off the edge and half to assure the man he was there. With the two of them settled, Eliot closed his eyes. It has been a tiring day.