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The one with the bath scene

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Motsu winced slightly at the sensation in his hand, pink braid now messy from the panic of the last few hours. The hand at his wrist gave a gentle squeeze, and he looked up to Beto, tears starting in his wide blue eyes.

“Very good, Wolf.” The other man was meticulous in it, gently applying the antibiotic to his companion’s injured hand. Despite the intensity Beto’s hands usually had, Motsu knew from experience how delicate and gentle the man could be, and gave a relaxed smile towards him, his laughter a little shaky with the pain.

“ahaha, Lud-kun, you’re so reliable.” In a way, Motsu’s voice being this shaky made Beto feel slightly more on edge, and he could hear the restrained pain behind the smile his companion gave. It had been entirely his fault, but he hadn’t complained as Beto scolded him and carefully removed the porcupine quills from his hand.

They had just arrived off a train in the unfamiliar country, he recalled. It felt so nice to stretch his legs after the long journey by multiple vehicles, and though Motsu’s bubbly voice soothed his nerves on both the unfamiliar plane and the slightly more familiar train, he had yearned to explore the beautiful and lush forests of the countryside they passed. To think that they could explore such a world again, he felt his heart lighten at the possibilities. During the time living at Otowakan, he’d had brief flashes of memories- the soft light dampened by thick foliage, and the sights of colorful birds flitting among the trees or brilliant flashes of light in a thunderstorm. He’d wondered what such things might sound like, and since his time after awakening in that too-sterile laboratory he had heard birdsong and thunderclaps that he never would have as the man in his memories. Though, he reminded himself, he was able to now, and with some agitation he stared out the train’s window at the passing wilderness.

He had been so excited to stretch his legs, the natural smells of the woods around the train station already making him feel more at ease, that he had lost track of his companion after exiting the train. The sudden scream wasn’t anything he had wanted to hear, and for a second his heart caught in his throat, dropping the suitcase in a mad dash towards the sound and calling out the man’s name.

“Wolf!” Luckily the vibrant pink of Motsu’s hair stood out like a flower among the greens and browns of the edge of the forest, and Beto arrived to see the man sitting and holding the wrist of one hand, his whole body shaking with pain. As Beto made his way around to get a better look at Motsu, he could see the attempted smile on his dear friend’s face looking somewhat melted, tears staining his red cheeks. Silently Beto crouched down to kneel next to him, putting a hand to the side of Motsu’s face and gently wiping a tear that had begun to run down his cheek.

A glance down to Motsu’s hand revealed the injury, and Beto could see a handful of painful-looking needles sticking from his companion’s hand. At this, the pink haired man gave a shaky chuckle, somewhat of a smile returning to his expression.

“Ahahaha, I wanted to show it to you… this little animal, I think it’s called a porcupine? I saw one on Kanae’s television back home….”

Home, he thought, how wonderful it was to think of the snug walls of the Otowa mansion he shared with so many he cared about. Motsu especially…. he felt something odd, as if despite his excitement at the new countryside he would like nothing more than to gently carry him into his cramped bedroom on the second floor and letting the others more capable at such first aid assist him in healing the other. He wondered if Motsu missed it as well.

No matter, there was no reason he couldn’t assist Motsu now. With a concerned glance, he first leaned his head close to the other man’s, green eyes meeting his companion’s blue. “Wolf, are you able to move?” At the nod, he gave one in return, moving his hands purposefully to below Motsu’s back and legs, and with one motion more fluid than he had expected it to be, lifted the lighter man off the ground in a princess carry. The surprised laughter from his companion brought a smile to his face, and his own lower voice mingled with Motsu’s in gentle laughs.

He would have liked to carry Motsu all the way to their hotel, but seeing the helpful staff at the train station for first aid of his injury was more important. Luckily, the attendants were friendly, and through a somewhat awkward exchange of phrases over a language translating guidebook he was able to write down the information for taking care of his companion’s injury. One of the attendants at the station that was helping the two of them seemed to have said something that translated to congratulations on marriage, and it most perplexed Beto as he looked up the phrase on the ride to the hotel. Perhaps he had misheard, or it was an incorrect translation? He felt his face heat a bit, and based on Motsu’s mischievous grin at him he was sure his face must have been beet red.

As soon as they had checked in at the hotel and gotten everything set down, Beto had sat next to Motsu, taking out the antibiotic the train station attendant had given him, and as instructed carefully applied it to Motsu’s injury with the same care he took in preparing his coffee beans. After all, Motsu deserved nothing less than his best care.

“Can you make it stop hurting, Lud-kun?” Motsu’s request brought him out of his reflection, and with a slightly pained look Beto met the other’s eyes. Motsu’s smile was gentle as he continued.

“They say if you kiss an injury it’ll get better.” Such innocent words, thought Beto, and he gave a nod.

“Very well, Wolf. A kiss for a quick and healthy recovery.” He bent his head down in the manner that seemed so familiar, leaving a gentle kiss on the side of Motsu’s hand less injured by the quills.

“It hurts here too….” The voice trailed off, and Beto looked up to see a new expression on Motsu’s face. His first thoughts were panic, he only thought Motsu had injured his hand. Perhaps something more threatening had also happened, and now that they were away getting proper attention to it might be more difficult. He barely knew the language as it was, and leaned in to give a concerned gaze to Motsu’s face as he pointed to his lips.

“Wolf, was this from the animal as well?” He was most surprised to see Motsu’s face change to a somewhat childish pout at his concerned tone.

“No silly, I want you to kiss me!”

A relieved chuckle escaping his lips, Beto gave a short sigh as the smile blossomed on his face. Meeting his to Motsu’s, he felt Motsu’s uninjured hand at the back of his neck, bringing his head closer.

It seemed over too soon, though Beto felt his worries ebb at the gentleness of the sensation. He swore he had heard that same exchange in one of Mozart’s own operas, from watching it with the others at Otowakan or even from his memories of seeing it back when he had last been alive. Hearing it from the man himself, not even that man but Motsu- Wolf, the man he loved, had such a soothing effect on him.

He moved silently, save for contented sighs, as he moved to unfasten Motsu’s braid, the sight of the pink hair cascading down was something that astounded him every time. There were no words he could use to properly convey his feelings in the moment- music perhaps, but he was not the best singer.

Carrying Motsu in the train station had been so wonderful, he was grateful when he moved to kneel at the side of the seated man that Motsu threw his hands around Beto’s neck, adjusting his body, now solely in a bathrobe, to a position more easy for the man to lift. Motsu’s form was so warm in his arms, and feeling the man snuggle his head at Beto’s shoulder caused a shiver of warm delight to start through his whole body.

“It feels so nice….” Motsu sighs with delight a few moments later. The two of them are now submerged in the hotel’s bathtub, the gentle spearmint of the soaps filling the duo with contentment. Beto nods in agreement, his back relaxed as it presses at the bathtub’s side. At his chest Motsu leans his lithe frame, and Beto can feel the tickle of pink strands of hair as Motsu nuzzles his bare neck.

When the two have felt rejuvenated from the bath, now dried and back in the fluffy warmth of the bathrobes, they snuggle together in the warmth of the hotel bed, Beto’s hand wrapping around the bandaged one of Motsu. The pink haired man has nearly fallen asleep when he hears a quiet noise and the sensation of something at his hand. Tiredly, he blinks, trying to find what his lover is doing, and with a smile his eyes meet the form of Beto. The white haired man’s eyes are downcast at the hand he is holding to his lips, planting another gentle kiss on the bandage.

Motsu gives a smile, his laughter soft from tiredness and relief. He wonders absently if his voice is loud enough for Beto to hear, or if the other man is even still awake. Though he says it anyways, his expression a tired smile as he pulls his head down to touch Beto’s forehead to his own.

“Lud-kun….ich liebe dich.”