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A Little Compassion

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What was a normal day? Difficult question indeed. You never know what can happen in a normal day.

But what was an abnormal day? Ah, that was easier.

An abnormal day was that one where a certain bassist and a certain drummer did not have their usual routine of fighting over silly things. For example, today's fight was about an arrangement of a song and some lyrics and... actually they had been fighting all morning waiting for Andy to come to the point they didn't even know for what they were arguing about.

"You know I'm sick of your stubborness. No matter what I say it's always wrong for you" Sting said crossing his arms.

"Look who's talking, the king of the stubborns." Stewart rolled his eyes not believing in what he was hearing.

"Just do what I say and you'll see it will work" Suggested Sting convinced that his idea was the best. "It always work" He added highlighting it.

"Ha! What if I don't? You will dispose my corpse in the lake I suppose?" Stewart raised an eyebrow.

"Oh god you're insufferable. I'm done talking with you, I'm really done" Said Sting in a very dramatic way as he walked to the door.

"I'm sorry for not obey you, Your Majesty. May I have your forgiveness?" Replied Stewart so sarcastically that made Sting's blood boil with anger.

And that was it. They had been like this all morning and Stewart hadn't stopped talking sarcastically which made Sting mad because he was looking for a solution to the problem.

Before he could know it, out of the anger he was feeling in that very moment, Sting threw a punch that was aimed at Stewart's cheekbone. Hitting him was never his first choice but he was completely done and the frustration won him over this time.

What Sting didn't count on was that Stewart was watching him carefully and in the moment Sting threw the punch the drummer dodged it making Sting's fist hit something a little harder than Stewart's cheek.

A very loud crash sound accompanied with little pieces of glass shattering on the floor filled the silence in the room. The thing that Sting just hit was the golden record of Reggatta de Blanc that the discography proudly gave them a couple of days ago.

Suddenly a very cheerful and mocky laughter coming from Stewart's mouth broke the silence while Sting remained in silence without withdrawing his hand from the frame.

"I knew you were slow Sting, but I didn't know you were that slow" Stewart mocked him with a acid laugh. "That's what you get for trying to punch me".

When Sting finally withdraw his hand, a sharp pain made him immediately cover his injured hand with his healthy one in a desesperate way to cease the pain. There was blood of course, blood everywhere. Blood in the gold record, blood in the glasses pieces that remained in the frame, blood in his hand and drops of blood in the floor just under where the record was hanged.

Stewart wasn't worried, he had hurt his hand with the drums enough times to tell when the injury could be really bad but from his point of view Sting only was overreacting like he always does. It was just a scratch and the knuckles could bleed a lot, no matter the size of the injury. Besides, he was the one who wanted to start a fight, he just received what he deserved.

But what Stewart didn't know was that Sting wasn't overreacting this time, he hurt himself badly. Badly enough to see how blood was covering his hand, it wasn't much but it keep bleeding and definitely it hurt as it looked. It was a sharp, pulsating pain, not enough to complain over it out loud but it was unbearable. He also could see some little shattered glass over his hand meaning that he needed the first aid kit.

But before walking towards the little cabinet that was just aside the exit door, he turned to the drummer who was with a smile and his eyebrows raised as if he was amused by the situation.

"Yeah just laugh you dork, this is your fault" Sting accused with an angry tone but with a some kind of offended look.

"Oh yes of course, how dumb I am. It was actually my fault because I obliged you to punch me, didn't I?" Stewart defended himself. "How bad is it?" He asked mockingly.

"Nyen of yer b'siness, lad" Stewart almost forgot that Sting used to speak with a very New Castle accent when he was mad. Stewart always found that very cute.

"Oh Sting, stop being so dense." Said Stewart irritated
"Don't play the sad puppy with me, you punch like a girl, you only have a scratch" Sting could be very annoying when he was in that state of dramatism.

The bassist gave Stewart a cold glance and opened the cabinet with one hand and grab the first aid kit with the other one. Unfortunately he grabbed the kit with the injured hand and Sting didn't realised how bad was the injury until he did that because he also thought it was alright.

He moaned and he cursed out loud. The pain that he felt was so deep and sharp just like a knife. The horrible sensation made him drop the kit as his injured hand started to shake a little bit. Sting didn't know what kind of pain gesture he did but Stewart suddenly stopped teasing him.

"Hey, are you okay there?" Stewart's mocky smile fell off from his face, vanishing all trace of amusement of the situation. Without a doubt, Stewart asked him, not enough to sound desesperate but enough to sound concerned. At least how Sting interpreted it.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine" Replied Sting with a little bit of sarcasm but not completely. That was an obvious question and Stewart feel like a fool but the truth was that he was already worried and ask him if he was okay was an impulse that the drummer couldn't control since he saw that gesture of pain on Sting's face.

Stewart watched attentive on how Sting managed to grab the first aid kit again and sit in the little couch that was there. He watched how Sting was trying to look as he wasn't feeling any pain at all, but both knew he was just pretending. The drummer felt a little guilty for thinking that Sting could be faking his pain because Stewart knew from the beginning that Sting had hurt himself badly, but he was blind with anger because of their earlier argument that he didn't see it. And, as much as Sting drove him crazy sometimes, Stewart could never imagine him being hurt. Not by him and not by anyone or anything. But now that he saw how Sting looks being hurt, he already knew he wouldn't want to see him like that again.

"Bullshit you're fine" Stewart raised his voice. "You can't even grab a fucking pick" He said as he started to walk towards the couch where Sting was trying to heal himself.

"Nice observation, Stewart. I couldn't have known" Sting replied without lifting his head to look at him. The bassist was so focused in not hurting himself more that he didn't notice the drummer kneeled in front of him with a concerned look over his hand. "What are you doing?" Asked Sting was he watched how Stewart grabbed the first aid kit.

"Helping you" Stewart answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world as he grabbed a cloth and doused it with peroxide.

"I don't need your help" Growled Sting trying to clean the open flesh wound with another wet cloth pulling his hand away from Stewart.

"Is not like you can use both hands" Stewart pointed out watching how Sting was clumsily trying to turn his hand around to look at his wound but the result was a very low 'Ouch' and his eyebrows did a very painful expression that Stewart couldn't help but almost mirroring it as he just imagined himself with Sting's wound. The hand just got back to its original position like a spring.

"Yeah right, Mr I Know It All, maybe you have a point there but still, I don't get it. Why do you want to help me, huh? Pity?" He asked with an offended tone and a very dramatic one Stewart had to add.

"Stop being so offended, it was an accident and it was certainly your fault" Stewart complained raising his voice without noticing it.

"If it was my fault then let me accept my consequences alone!" Sting said raising his voice too and that's when Stewart noticed that something was going on with him because Sting never raised his voice before.

"You're so childish! You are so..." Stewart was going to keep fighting him but then he realized that there was no use. Sting was a proud person, very proud and it was obvious he felt humiliated by the situation and Stewart had to admit he helped to Sting's humiliation by making fun of him. That's why he didn't want any help, not because he was mad at Stewart but because he felt small and that was a vulnerability that he never saw in Sting and for some reason, that moved Stewart deeply. Just like a child. Sting was that child who thinks he's brave enough to handle his first injuries alone and the drummer just had the urge to save him or heal him.
Besides, he also felt bad, perhaps he shouldn't have said that to Sting that made him throw the punch.

The drummer just let out a long sigh and looked at Sting into those icy blue eyes but these avoided Stewart's. "Look, I just want to fucking help you alright?" Even though he just swear, the tone he used was so sweet and calm that made Sting remain in silence and stop protesting.

Sting managed to look at Stewart's eyes for a few seconds with his blonde frown above his eyes. Then, the bassist just relaxed his gestures and sighed as well. He knew Stewart could be very sweet sometimes. The bassist extended his hand waiting for the pain of the peroxide but it never came, instead he felt soft fingers touching his aching skin wrapping themselves carefully around Sting's wrist. His first reaction was break out Stewart's grip. As soon as he did that, he kinda regret it because the pain seemed to cease when Stewart was holding his hand.

"Give me your hand, it's not like we are dating" He asked extending his hand with his palm open. "You want that to get rotten?" Inquired Stewart.

Sting hesitate for a second, but slowly worked his way back and rested his injured hand on Stewart's palm. As soon as Stewart wrapped his fingers around his wrist again, Sting felt no pain. He felt a relief, like an ice cube on a burning skin or a cool breeze in a summer day. But that didn't mean Stewart's hand was cold. He didn't understand why he was associating all that with Stewart's grip, he wish he could.

"Your hand is just sore, I think that's why you couldn't grab the kit, nothing to worry about" Said Stewart quietly as he was wipping off the blood on Sting's hand with the peroxide to have a better view of the wound and make sure that doesn't get infected as he lifted his head to check up on Sting.

The bassist was supporting his face with the palm of his hand and his elbow on the knee with an impatient eyes but at the same time he had an expression of surrender in his face. Not in a bad way though, he was surrender to Stewart's compassion for his friend's injury. But of course, for Sting's point of view it was like a lost battle.

"Woah, really? I didn't know, I thought- Auch!" Cried Sting followed by a hiss of pain. It seems that the drummer just found the main wound. It was in between the knuckles, it wasn't a deep scratch but it was big. Stewart without doubt it stopped what he was doing when he heard Sting's complain.

"Sorry, it's a nasty one you have here" Stewart automatically looked up to see if Sting was alright. When he did it, he caught that blue gaze looking at him with a frown above, but his eyes were soft. Sting rapidly moved his sight to somewhere else in the room.

They fell into a silence for a while because the difficult part was coming, the peroxide on the fresh wound. Stewart carefully put the cloth, which was wrapped around his finger, on the wound. His intention was to cateurize it with the liquid, he knew it would hurt so he did it slowly. When he heard Sting's true complains and quickly saw the pain in his face Stewart felt awful. He needed to distract him from the pain while he was healing the wound.

Time to open up your chest Copeland, you know he likes it. Thought Stewart.

"You know, you scared me to death back there" Said Stewart without looking at him this time as he put the wet cloth on the wound again. He didn't heard any complain this time, he just caught Sting's curiosity.

"What?" Now Sting was the one who was looking. He turned his head and his eyes landed on Stewart's focused face.

"Yeah, I mean when you dropped the kit, for a hot second I thought that you couldn't use your hand anymore" Confessed Stewart with a shy smile on his face. "You're an idiot, you can't hurt yourself like this, what would happen if something really bad happens to you? what would I do? Heal you everytime you do stupid things like this? I could" He said softly, caring and empathetic, it was like if Stewart felt hurt by Sting's pain. It almost seemed like a love confession, and at one point it was. When Stewart realised what he just said, he opened his eyes wide and stopped in his tracks. He opened his chest more than he originally wanted to. "I mean, I'm not your nurse but I can't leave you in pain, can I? You will be complaining nonstop and my ears will wear off" He tried to sound like himself but he cursed in his mind because it sounded even more cheesy.

Those words hit Sting's chest and he swear that a warm feeling was growing up inside. Even if he didn't want to, the damn butterflies started to messing around inside his stomach. Nobody ever talked to him like that, not his wife, not his old friends, not even his mother and certainly didn't expect Stewart to talk to him in such way... and yet he did.

It was not the first time that Stewart acted this sweet but this time was just different, in every way possible and Sting didn't even know why but he couldn't stop staring at Stewart, the soft features of his face, focused in trying to make him feel no pain but Sting wasn't going to lie, it hurt as hell but there was something about Stewart's touch that make him forget about the pain.

Stewart was kinda embarrassed of what he just said to look up and check up on Sting again. He didn't know why he said all that, he didn't even know that he felt that way until he said it but when Stewart felt a heavy gaze upon him, out of an act of reflex, he quickly look at the bassist and he found himself caught up with those sparkling blue eyes, staring at him so innocently with a tender expression, very different from the angry and offensive one he had moments ago and he couldn't help but notice a little blush going on Sting's face and Stewart almost smiled.

When Sting saw Stewart grabbing the bandage, he knew that it would hurt a lot, because he need to press the bandage on the wound to secure it. But for some reason he wasn't worried about the pain, he was sure that it wouldn't hurt as much as it should, just because Stewart would take care of that part. In the moment Sting though that, he knew he was now completely surrender to Stewart.

"I thought you were having fun by seeing me like this" Said Sting almost whispering but with a soft chuckle. Stewart sometimes forgot that Sting was actually a shy person. He always had that image of him singing so confident, playing so confident and doing his sexy show so confident that the fact he was so shy slipped from his memory.

"I thought so too" Stewart let out a soft chuckle as well. The drummer felt like he needed to say more but he didn't, because he knew that only cheesy and embarrassing words will come out so he decided to stay in silence and trying to think about something else instead of Sting's pure and angelic look upon him.

The drummer began to wrap the now clean and healed wound with the bandage carefully as if he was touching something made of the finest crystal. For Stewart's eyes, Sting was a delicate piece. He demanded attention, just like the crystal when it needed to be polished. He was fuzzy, just like the crystal when you have to be careful how you treat it. If you treat in such way you will break it, if you treat it in such another you will scratch it. He was sometimes selfish, just like the crystal when you know that it is a luxury to own one... and yet, the crystal was the most beautiful thing ever and so was Sting.

Although Stewart was being careful, he heard some hisses coming from Sting but they were low like a whisper so he knew that he wasn't hurting him, it was just the skin that was sore. Even the touch of a feather could make Sting hiss in pain but fortunately for the bassist, the drummer was almost done, all that he needed to do was cutting the bandage with the little scissors which were inside de kit.

"There you go, bud" Said Stewart as he gave two soft pads on Sting's bandage. "Don't do anything like this again or else" He threatened but in a caring way.

Sting admired his bandage as if a piece of art was done on his hand. He felt overwhelmed by Stewart's actions, he never thought that the drummer would do something like this for him, sure they were friends but this situation showed them that they had something else going on there than a simply bandmate or musical relationship. A bond, a trust, love and Sting was realising that now, after all these years. Nobody ever cared about him just like Stewart did today, it was clear that the drummer cared, and he cared deeply, more than he could express but Sting didn't blame him, because he also cared deeply about Stewart and couldn't express himself either.

"You know, I could use a 'Thanks' now" Said Stewart turning his head to look at Sting. In the moment that Stewart turned his head and all this caring thing, a buried thought came back to Sting's mind, more strong than ever. He thought that he had sorted that out but it kept going around his head for many years and it was the simple thought of what if he kissed him? There were many times in which they were so close and Sting was always looking at those heavenly lips and he couldn't stop wondering that would happen if those lips touched his... and the word 'Thanks' seemed to not be enough for Sting.

Before the drummer could even blink, Sting gently grabbed Stewart's jaw and pulled it close to him enough to gave him a quick and soft kiss on the lips to release him as soon as Sting broke the kiss. This was the moment when he should say thanks but he supposed that Stewart got it. He would be lying if he said that he didn't feel million emotions going on at the same time inside him because it was just how Sting imagined Stewart's lips to be, soft and warm with that particular and unique taste of old cigarette and sour cherry.

Sting waited for some reaction to his little kiss but he found that the drummer was completely frozen, without even blinking and he looked zoned out. The bassist thought that was the end, Stewart hated him more now than he already did, he just ruined a 4 years friendship and probably the band just for a stupid fantasy of his.

"Look I-" Sting tried to talk but he was abruptly interrupted by Stewart's lips smacking his. The drummer started to move them right away while Sting was trying to follow because he was obviously caught off guard. Stewart moves were precise and fast, just like the way he plays and as for Sting, his moves were sweet but strong , just like his bass lines. Their moves were different but somehow they mixed so well and they seemed to notice that as the kiss grew more and more intense.

Stewart ran his hands into Sting's hair, just like he always wanted to do, tangling his fingers in that golden hair. It was recently bleached, as his fingers could feel but Stewart have always loved Sting's natural color and he wished that he could see it more often. The truth was that he fancied Sting, he always have but sometimes their relationship was so troubled that he forgot that he was completely in love with him but it was good to having him around to remind him. He felt Sting's hand pulling him from the nape trying to bring him closer as he caressed the neck with his thumb and of course Stewart couldn't refuse and he leaned on a little bit more even though he was still kneeled on the floor it didn't seem to be bothering him at all. The drummer was tall enough to keep facing Sting.

The fact that this was actually happening was overwhelming to Sting and for a moment he wanted to stop but he wasn't able to let go, and he certainly didn't want to. He wanted to keep kissing him, touching him and feeling how all their tension and their silly attitude were gone just by a simple kiss. Sting's thoughts were interrupted by those stupid butterflies again as he felt how one of Stewart's hands that were in the back of his head moved to give him quick stroke on his hair to ran it into the gold mane again but this time the drummer pulled Sting closer to him making the bassist sit in the edge of the couch having to wrap his arms around Stewart's neck for balance being careful with his injured hand that he almost forgot he had due to the excitement of the moment.

They both wanted to, that was obvious and it showed as they smashed their lips together so desesperately like if they weren't getting enough of each other. The kiss was full of emotion, of secret desires and joy but most importantly, relief. Relief that they could finally let their emotions and instincts be free, they were holding back themselves for a long time, since they first met. That would explain why their kiss was so hot and wet.

If it was up to them, they could go on and on, forgetting everything else, but it wasn't. Unfortunately, it depended on their lungs and they were telling them to stop. They broke up the kiss almost at the same time but they did  it so slow as if they didn't know what a kiss was until that moment and maybe, in a certain way, it was. With their heads still tilted they looked at each other's lips and eyes, trying to catch their breath feeling their hearts going faster then ever, pounding rhythms just like the ones they create on their instruments.

"Stewart..." Said Sting panting and breathless, almost smiling, no believing in what they just had done.

Stewart did not speak, he was panting as well, trying to catch his breath. Instead, he stroke Sting's hair in such an affectionate way that he made Sting nervous. The drummer combed Sting's spiky hair tucking a little behind his ear as he looked directly into those eyes again, then quickly looked at his cheeks which were so red that they highlighted his blue eyes making him look like a porcelain doll boy, to finally finish looking his lips and he didn't think twice before, out of an impulse, kissing him again but this time the kiss was shorter and Sting wished that Stewart had kissed him just like a few moments ago.

And for Sting's surprise, he did.

After he admired Sting for a few seconds while he was catching his breath, he attacked those lips again with more determination and desire than before and a certain heat came over him that made him bite Sting's lip a little bit earning a soft gasp from him for his action. Stewart's hands cupped Sting's face as he felt how the bassist tangled his arms on his neck again to pull him closer. The kiss was the same as the last one, the same need and the same hunger for each other but suddenly, as the passion was spilling over, Stewart's lips left Sting's to brought them to his neck where the drummer began to kiss and bite all over Sting's neck hearing little whispered moans.

But when Stewart's hands left Sting's face and slowly started to go down his stomach and a little further, the bassist acted quickly and softly pushed Stewart away, breaking the kiss and the moment.

"Stewart... Stewart stop" Said Sting breathless once more with his eyelids closed "We can't, just we can't" His hands were resting on Stewart's shoulders.

"What? Why? We have been holding this fucking... whatever this is for a long time and now you want to hold back again?" Replied Stewart, panting with a puzzled look and a frown above his eyes, clearly annoyed by Sting's fuzziness.

"Stewart, look around, we can't in here" They were in the studio yes, but that wasn't the only one reason why Sting stopped him. "Besides, I'm confused..." Confessed Sting letting go Stewart's shoulders and using the palm of his healthy hand to support his head.

"You are.. confused..." Repeated Stewart as if he didn't believe him "What kind of cheap excuse is that? You just sounded like a virgin schoolgirl!" He said raising his voice.

"Is not like I have kissed so many chaps, you know?" Replied Sting remaining quiet and calm, now avoiding Stewart's accusatory eyes by ruffling his hair.

"Neither did I!" Shouted Stewart "And for your information you were the one who kissed me in the first place" Pointed out the drummer crossing his arms clearly in a defensive mood. No wonder why Stewart was angry and somehow offended with Sting, the drummer felt as if Sting were playing with his feelings by saying he was confused with his own feelings after kissing the hell out of each other, not once, but twice. It was a ridiculous excuse.

"Is not my fault, you tempted me really..." Said Sting looking up at Stewart briefly with those victim eyes that Stewart knew so well. With those eyes and what he said, he was trying to blame Stewart for the kiss but the drummer wasn't going to fall for that, he never have and never will. Sting was the one who started it, if he didn't fancied him back and he had kissed him for a laugh or with the intention of calming the tension between them that was okay for Stewart, but he wasn't going to take all the blame for what they just had done and Sting shouldn't either because, oh god, it was just a kiss, no doubt that Sting was too dramatic sometimes.

"Excuse me? Do you want to know how long have you been tempting me and I never blamed you?" Said Stewart squinting his eyes. The drummer's face may seem serious and his voice firm in what he said but his mind was a whole different scenario.  He cursed again. He cursed himself for being a big mouth and really try to think before talk. Actually it was true, Sting has been tempting him but he didn't have to know.

Sting opened his eyes involuntarily completely surprised and somehow flattered for that confession. He shook his head realising his mistake in his poor choice of words "Look, I don't want to fight you, we just did ourselves a favour and I don't want to lose the moment for a stupid argument" Said Sting calm, grabbing Stewart cheek and the drummer quickly softened his features "I'm not confused with my feelings for you, I could never, not after this but, what I meant was, I'm just worried about everything else and you know what I'm talking about" Sting sighed to meet that hazel look that was fixed on him. Sadly, Stewart knew what he was talking about because he wasn't talking about Andy or Miles or even the media, he was talking about no other than them. They could love each other now but they didn't know if tomorrow they could regret it somehow, it could never happen as Sting just said but still their relationship was too dangerous in some way. They were capable of love each other a lot or they were capable of hurt each other deeply and the latter was a risk that none of them wanted to take. "We can't rush this thing, we have to let ourselves be" Sting said softly, vulnerable as Stewart never saw him before. The drummer hated to agree with Sting but he didn't have other choice but to agree.

It was often said that Sting was cold and it sometimes was true, but it was never completely true. He could be a caged person when it comes to his feelings, but there was no doubt that Sting was a sensitive person and very profound. Sometimes, Stewart just couldn't catch up his well read-ness and he had to listen to him, letting all the "expression and tender words" work to him and he never disappoints.

'We have to let ourselves be' Stewart repeated that over and over in his head realising that Sting was a true poet. Not because the words he said, because they were just words but in the context and how he said them.

Stewart sighed running his hand through his hair without looking at Sting. "Now what?"

Yes, now what indeed. They can't continue as friends after this but they can't go further than that either so, then, what they could do? The only solution that Sting saw was, roll with it, don't think about it too much. After all, nobody will judge them because something was telling him that everyone already knew but them. Sting smirked and gave a last kiss on those heavenly lips that were in front of them and got up from the couch in such a flirtatious way that Stewart couldn't help but stare as the bassist turned to him.

"Now, love, we have to clean all this mess before dear Andy arrives, he could die from a heart attack if he sees all this blood, you know" Said Sting starting to walk towards the exit door once again but this time without a rage no, this time he walked out happy, like he has never been. Stewart followed to help him instantly remembering Sting's injured hand, but lost in his thoughts, processing what just happened and trying to understand what Sting's last kiss meant. The drummer felt them as an invitation to carry on with those feelings for each other. An invitation to keep showing all the affection that they had by kissing and hugging instead of the awkward looks and jokes that they used to do to cope with the tension. He saw Sting smiling mischievously and he licked his lips before speaking and the drummer knew he was going to say something funny, ay least for him. "You know his age, very fragile" He let go one of his soft laughs and Stewart couldn't help but smile too.

Poor Andy, luckily for them, the guitarist knew that his the pretty bassist and his skinny drummer loved him deeply.