It’s about two inches long--running from just above the bone of Kevin’s wrist up along the outside of his hand in a line that would have been considered straight by grade school standards. The skin is pale on already pale skin, a slightly raised mark of memory from something long ago.
Javi noticed it the first day he and Kevin met, when he was giving his new partner a once over, using his detective skills to find out what he could before they’d said more than hello. Since then he’s learned almost all there is to know about Kevin Ryan, from the casual to the intimate, but he’s never heard the story of that scar.
It’s the unknown that makes it so damn interesting.
It’s happened more than once that they’ll be interviewing someone, Kevin with his notebook open and his eyes intently focused on the person speaking, and Javi will catch a glimpse and his train of thought will skitter, detouring for a split second on some theory or another -- school yard fight? sibling rivalry? defending the world from invading aliens? But then he’ll blink and the connection will break, and when he opens his eyes again there’s Kevin and the witness and everything is back to normal.
Until they’re back at the precinct and Kevin hands him a cup of coffee, made just how Javi likes it, or working at Kevin’s computer and searching the Internet for some clue. At those times, when they’re on the clock, he never asks.
“Some day you’re gonna tell me this story,” Javi says, tracing over the line of scar, feeling the raised skin under his fingertip. Kevin’s hand is pale on Javi’s chest, and as his finger moves along the scar tissue he can feel Kevin’s fingertips twitch. “I think I’ve guessed every possibility at one point or another.’
“It’s not that interesting,” Kevin says sleepily against the skin of Javi’s shoulder. “But if you really wanna know, sure I’ll tell you sometime.”