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“Remember the question I asked you?”
The mercenary is quiet as he glances away as he becomes thoughtful then his eyes go back to you, “You asked if I was a good man.”
“And your answer?”
“I don't know.” He does not once flinch as you replace the bandages on his back, specifically the center of his back where a bullet had formerly pierced him but only hit flesh, not bone. He was lucky the round wasn't any bigger.
“A good man would give that answer.” Once finished you close your medical bag and throw away the dirty bandages in the small trash bin beside the bed. “It is healing well, I still recommend you don't overwork yourself.”
“Why are you helping me?” The man moves and sits on the bed facing you, there are a million scars on his body telling stories only he can give voice to. You do not pry, you only patch him up and clean passwords that did not heal properly.
“Because you were in need of help.” Standing up with your supplies in your hand, “Need me to check anything else, Naib Subedar?” From what you can recall that is not a name but a rank, a low rank in the infantry if your father's books are accurate. A fake name and no you will not push to find out more about him. A man has secrets for a reason.
When your assistant found him on the side of a road in an automobile that was idle on the side of a cliffside road, he looked like he was in a fight. Not the bar fight kind. That night, you told the assistant the story about the man who fell down some stairs— A lie in case anyone asks about him. The mystery man slept for two days, on the second night he woke up but was not as cognitive as he is now. His reaction from waking up on a bed with an IV connected to his wrist and you standing above the bed to check on his vitals, the way he had grabbed your hand, twisting but not the full bend as much of his strength had left him.
This man is clearly trained, you figure a soldier.
You saved his life because are a doctor and you uphold your oath. The debt he feels he owes you will never be paid, not that you put such an idea in his head.
Must be an honor system he upholds, again proving he is a good man.
“No.” He stares at the kit in your hand.
“Alright—”
“Who was that kid from before?”
“Him?” You did not realize Naib saw the young man you gave an envelope of money to, “Just a kid.” You turn to leave but he snatches your wrist holding you back.
“Who. Is. He?” This voice has a dark lace to it that makes you feel cornered. Two wolves, one clearly the alpha, the one who protects and hunts.
“...” Pressing your lips together then looking away before closing them, “He picks up the protection money.” Answering him.
“You pay for protection?”
“Naib Subedar, don't ask questions you have the answer to.”
Small towns are easy targets and given how beautiful this place is, someone wants to flush everyone out. Best peaceful way to do this is by either buyout or extortion.
“Who do you pay this to?” That he does not know.
“Will you kill him?” Your narrowed eyes turn to him, “We can't pay you.” Pulling your hand out of his grasp, “Just forget it.”
He does not push, he does get up and put his top back on and puts on his hood.
“Naib Subedar?”
“You never call me ‘Naib’.” At the door, “Guess you know what it means, huh, doc?”
You say nothing.
“I'll be back later. Keep the doors locked and don't leave the house.” He orders.
You jerk awake to the guest room window being slid open by a hooded figure, you sit up as he enters the room. Blood and sweat. “Naib Subedar?” Rubbing your eyes.
“You slept here.” Rusting of clothing and shoes.
“Hmm,” You go back to lying down when the bed shifts to the new weight added. “You smell.”
“I'll bathe later.” His breath is warm and blows against your neck making you shiver. “It's cold.” A complaint you barely hear as you slip back to sleep. He moves closer, his arm drawing you close to his solid body. You groan as he was not kidding about being cold.
“Not a heater.” Mumbling in your sleep as he uses you as his personal heater.
The mercenary shushes you until all he hears is your soft breathing of slumber, his eyes closing as he inhales your scent from your hair, clinging to you.
That is how far he will go.
The following morning you awaken alone. You figure him coming home last night was a dream but you see a note left by him. Left you breakfast, thanks doc . You put on a robe before going downstairs to see he made a simple breakfast, two toast, and two boiled eggs. Really simple, but appreciated.
Given your clinic is closed today, you decide to enjoy the day by being home and reading a book. Nothing too special.
This peace lasted up until there was banging at the door.
The short of banging you know from your years after finishing medical school only to be forced back home by your family.
“Open up now!” And you did. “Patch him up.” The kid from yesterday— He is an adult but Naib Subedar called him a kid compared to how old he is. “And no funny business, doc.” There was no ‘funny business’ and you patched the man up.
The downstairs portion of your house is the clinic, the kitchen is off to the side near the entrance of the house. Luckily, during the day you got dressed as if you were going out or these guys would think you have something to offer . Not like being in clothes doesn't stop them from saying some crude things towards you.
“I did what I could but he needs to rest before anything can start healing.” Removing your bloody gloves.
“Fuck! Boss is going to be pissed about this.” Says one lowlife.
“Shit, what are we going to do?”
“Can start by taking him home.” You suggest.
They both look at you and then go back to figuring out what to do, you just leave them in the patient room to go wash your hands in the kitchen. You go very quiet when you see Naib Subedar grabbing a knife from your cutlery set.
His index finger is on his lips as he moves forward and his hand takes yours, guiding you to hide in the pantry.
You know what to do, you have been here before.
You close your ears and crouch down, counting from one to twenty.
Naib Subedar is quick and efficient, the mess is minimal and he deals with it with practiced movements. He did not let you lift a finger as he cleaned the mess, but he had to sadly make it look like someone hurt you before getting the three thugs.
“Here and here.” Showing him the best spots to hit you that will look worse than they appear.
“Sorry.”
“Don't be.”
That evening you stay at your assistant's place, a small apartment near the popular part of the town.
“Naib Subedar.”
“You've done this before.”
“My dad was in the military. He fell in with the wrong people after.” Eating your food. It has been three weeks since Naib Subedar has made it his personal job to kill every last one of these gangsters. A small time group that he can remove like a splinter. “He had me help out after I came home from getting my degree.”
“So that is why you asked the question?”
“No, that was for me. I hoped one day to use my skills to save a good person for once. And here you are.”
He goes back to eating the food you made.
“Are you going to leave?”
He hums and shrugs.
That night you slept with him. Not as payment, because you wanted something to remember him by.
To be in the arms of someone who saved your home and thus you in the process.
“(Name)...” Above you naked with only the moonlight to height his features.
“Naib.” Under him, the darkness is shunned away as moonlight kisses your skin, “Thank you.” He is everything , though you do not love him, you want him as badly as you need air. He takes only as much as you can give. Slowly, he makes sure this is engraved on his skin and mind.
“Louder.”
You cling to him as he keeps moving, the pace going from slow to fast. Both of you are desperate to cum. Your nails scratching down his back, legs squeezing around his hips, your mouth crying out a symphony of pleasure.
Naib fights to keep his eyes open, you are the best thing that has happened to him.
“God, god, please.”
“Wrong name, try again.”
“Naib, fuck, I need you.” Tears at the corner of your eyes. He growls, hips pistols, grabs your legs, and pushes them until your knees touch your shoulders. the mercenary deeper and you are trapped, helpless. You cry out the name he gave you, everything related to him is completely on you.
He doesn't stop after the first round, nor the second, or the third. The six times he finally is exhausted and you are lying in bed completely spent on your front.
When it is morning, you wake up to his body spooning yours.