Characters: Ryo, Dee.
Setting: After Like Like Love.
Summary: Dee and Ryo aren’t ashamed of their scars.
Word Count: 500
Written For: Prompt 539: Scar(s) at slashthedrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
Lying beside Dee on their bed, both of them naked and sweaty from their lovemaking, Ryo reached out to lightly run his fingers over the puckered scar in Dee’s left shoulder, where he’d been shot several months previously. It was a tangible reminder of how dangerous being a cop could be. Dee had been lucky; the large calibre bullet had caused considerable damage, but had missed the artery by a whisker.
“That tickles,” Dee protested, squirming slightly.
“No, it’s okay. I’m just glad my scars don’t bother you.”
“Mine don’t bother you either,” Ryo pointed out. They both had their share; some from work, others from accidents in the home, or from when they were kids, like the one just at Dee’s hairline, which he’d gotten falling out of a window when he was five.
“Course not; they’re a part of you, like a record of all the things you’ve survived.”
“We’ve both been lucky when you think about it. All the times we’ve been injured, shot, stabbed, whatever, but we’re both still here.” Raising himself up on one elbow, Ryo pressed a soft kiss to the bullet scar. “This one had me worried for a bit.”
“A bit? That’s not what I heard.”
“Okay, so I was kinda freaked out, but there was a lot of blood.”
“Bullets will do that.” Dee rolled onto his side, dislodging his lover so that he flopped over onto his back, and reaching out in turn to run his fingers over the scar on Ryo’s chest. “At least mine was just my shoulder. This is the one that worried me. Right in the chest, and you weren’t wearin’ your vest; thought I was gonna lose you for sure.”
“But you didn’t.” The bullet had gone right through, breaking a rib in passing but missing Ryo’s lung and exiting just beneath his shoulder blade, leaving behind a second, bigger scar, like the one at the back of Dee’s shoulder. “And I learned my lesson.” He’d been a fool to follow a suspect without telling anyone what he was doing or where he was going; that was a mistake he’d never make again.
When they’d first become lovers, they’d revelled in each other’s almost unblemished skin; now, getting on for eight years later, both their bodies were marked with mementoes from their various war wounds, but in each other’s eyes they were no less beautiful for that. There was no shame in bearing the evidence of healed wounds.
Dee traced an almost invisible line across Ryo’s ribs, where he’d been slashed with a sharp knife, and Ryo responded by rubbing his thumb across one of the small, ridged scars on Dee’s thigh from where a splinter of wood had gone right through his leg.
Sliding down the bed, Dee paid homage to a faint mark on Ryo’s side; all that remained of a stab wound. His tongue laved the spot, making Ryo moan in pleasure.
Dee smiled; he loved every inch of this man.