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Warnings: Nothing really here, some suggestive themes? Minors DNI
Author's Note: This is probably tamer than what you were expecting, but I thought it was cute.
Summary: You get hurt and your friend, who frequently crashes at your place, is not happy about it. Fluff ensues.
When he sees you with a bloodied lip, the air suddenly feels very charged. You don’t notice him staring at you at first, too preoccupied with going through your medicine cabinet in your bathroom, looking for the antiseptic. When you find it, you place the bottle on the cabinet and go about pouring some on a cotton pad, unaware that your friend has stood up from his perch on the end of the bed to crowd behind you. He had a bad habit of invading your space whether you liked it or not, and you hadn’t even noticed he’d been waiting for you when you’d stumbled through the door of your tiny bathroom, more concerned with dealing with your stinging lip.
You feel his warmth at your back and look up at his reflection in the mirror. His jaw is clenched so tight that his teeth barely part when he asks, “Who did that to you?”
You sigh through your nose as you maintain eye contact. “You have to stop coming in here, Donnie.”
He grimaces and shakes his head. “S’not what I asked,” His southern drawl washes over you, comforting even when he doesn’t mean to be. “You know I’m gonna find out anyway.”
You turn around as much as you’re able to, and he takes the opportunity to look at the cut on your lip, assessing the damage. It’s not from someone hitting you. Actually, it looks like it’s from someone biting you. He can see teeth marks purpling your swollen flesh, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself. You can see that he’s angry when he looks past you, trying to focus on your ugly tile instead.
“It’s not that bad,” You say in a small voice. “Not worth the trouble.”
He looks down at you again. “Did you want it?”
“What?” Your voice is hurt, incredulous. “No. No, I didn’t.” You shake your head, offended he would even ask that. “I-I tried to push him away, I—” Tears well in your eyes and you choke up, causing him to reach out and wrap his mech hand around your shoulders and smooth his other one over the back of your head. You press your face in his black shirt, shuddering. He shushes you softly, pulling back momentarily to get you to look at him.
“Then it is worth it,” He says with conviction. “You’re worth it, baby, you understand me?”
You nod tearily, stomach flipping at the nickname he so often liked to tease you with. But there was no teasing to be found here, as he held you. He meant it, and that spoke volumes.
Once you’re calm enough, he cleans the cut himself, swiping as gently as he can while apologizing for your winces. He then leads you to your bed, kneeling down to take off your dress shoes that you’d worn to the bar tonight. He’d gotten back from his business trip late, otherwise he’d have been with you.
“Donnie,” You sniffle when he rubs at your feet. The metal feels good but this all seems strangely domestic, with this big, hulking man on his knees in front of you, wanting, desiring to make you feel better. Don wasn’t a man to do things ‘just because’, he did them because he wanted to.
He’d been trying to get in your pants for a while, always teasing, always inserting some innuendo or another into his quips, and calling you his baby. But the anticipation had been gone for a while, too, and you’d both settled into this strange limbo of close friends, with a touch of something more. He’d help you unzip your dress and you’d make sure there was breakfast waiting for him before he had an early morning flight, or he’d pretend to be your boyfriend at the bar and you’d give him the family discount at your job.
But tonight, he’s quiet. Attentive, as only he can be, but you can see the tension in his shoulders, like he’s poised to bolt out of the door. You know why. Even if he won’t say it, you know it’s because he cares.
“You don’t have to—” You start again and he waves a hand up to interrupt.
“I’d kill,” He says quietly, his voice equal parts liquid venom and honey. “And I’d maim, and I’d torture…for you.”
You press your hands to his jaw, stroking his short beard as you nod. “I know.”
He searches your face for something, and sighs his assent. “But you won’t ask.”
That draws a small, amused smile from you. “No,” you murmur. “I need something far more important from you right now, Donnie.”
“It’s yours.” He swears.
You take his hand and pull him towards you, afraid your sudden confidence will turn into stone if you keep beating around the bush.
“Make me forget?” You ghost your lips over his mouth, and his mech hand fists the fabric of your skirt at your hip, hesitation evident in his eyes.
“You sure?” Ever the gentleman. “Can’t take it back after, baby. Can’t jus’ ignore my feelin’s after, pretend it didn’t happen. I’d sooner leave then have to pretend.”
You nod, happy he’s asking your consent first. “I’m sure.”
His eyes are hooded as he grins, gold tooth shining in the low light of your bedroom.
“Gonna kiss you silly,” He promises. “But not right now, not like this.” He presses a far more chaste kiss than you’re expecting at the corner of your mouth, his scruff tickling your cheek. You giggle as he pulls you closer to the edge so he can kneel between your thighs. His mouth on your neck makes you release a little breathless sigh as you run your fingers through his hair, scratching at the base of his neck to make him groan appreciatively into your skin.
His gold chain sways as he crouches lower, urging you to lay back on the bed. Your stomach flutters as you realize what he’s planning.
“Relax,” He coos as he rubs your bare legs, his metal hand warm on your body from touching you through your dress. “Just gonna do what you asked of me.”
True to his word, Donnie makes tonight’s unpleasant event the last thing on your mind, and by the time morning arrives, your lip has scabbed over and a much more pleasant ache is left between your legs instead.
