CAPT.

There wasn’t much that could be done about the blond’s eye; it would bruise something terrible by morning but it would heal with time. An icepack would do it good, sure —- but Dion had a feeling that Colton would be sleeping sooner than later. Pain medication was in order. That and a lot of rest. It was what Colton needed and therefore what he would get a lot of; Dion was always very particular about the other man being comfortable no matter what. The leg was an issue and by the sounds of it? Those fucks had only added to the pain that could sneak up on the soldier at times.

What kind of motherfuckers would go so far as to beat up a man with a cane? To break it. Dion wants their spines to be in the same exact condition and he considers leaving once Colton is asleep to return the favor. Already he is making notes; face, ribs, leg. Places he needed to inflict damage upon. Places that needed to seep red. They didn’t deserve to walk properly ever again. Maybe he would break a few legs —- see how they enjoyed limping but even that wouldn’t be enough.

And he shouldn’t leave. Not with how angry he is.

Dion stares down at the man he adores so much and sees something broken. Something perfect that never should have had any harm done to it. He sees something perfect —- a yin to his yang. Being together for the evening would help them both. In time Dion would calm down. In time Colton would be able to rest and Dion didn’t want him anywhere else but right beside him. Safe. Healing. His.

The brunette moves slowly, controlling his anger as he moves from one part of the kitchen to the next. A pill bottle is fetched, then a bottle of water. Both are carefully offered over to Colton as he seems to chew on the information given, a deadly silence between them after the man finishes his story.

He shouldn’t leave.

“Tell me to stay.”

Colton watches as Dion moves about the kitchen, gathering up his pain pills as well as the water, the man – despite what he may really believe about himself – is a goddamn angel; even if it was just to Colton he would take it.

Tossing the pill into his mouth he follows up with a swig of water, making sure to swallow it down quickly so none of the coating would melt along his tongue. He eyes Dion, can see the wheels turning in his mind, knows that he has to be thinking about seeking out some sort of revenge – hell if he was in Dion’s position he would be thinking the same exact thing. Wanting to seek out revenge for someone hurting his loved one. 

There wasn’t a question of doubt in his mind when he heard the request from the other.

“Stay wit’ me. I want ya ta stay here wit’ me t’night. ‘ve been t’rough enough as it is an’ all I want ta do is get comfortable wit’ yas an’ enjoy what I can of my night. ‘M already in pain an’ ‘m tired, an’ all I want ta do is spend some time wit’ yas. I don’ want ta go worryin’ ‘bout yas tha rest of tha night.”

And really he would. Anytime Dion went out to do his job he almost always worried about him, that maybe one day he just wouldn’t come back around and he’d have to find out the hard way that he just wasn’t going to come back.

Sure he was told he was good at his job, but there was always someone out there who was supposedly better. What would happen to Dion if someone got the jump on him?

Hate swells in his body and he tells himself that he has to breathe, has to think and not blank out into a rage that out start with him storming out the door and end with his hands very tightly around someone’s throat. An attempted robbery. Some jackasses had come and touched Colton — had thought it was okay to actually fucking touch him and there were no marks as a result. Dion could care less about any money taken; if Colton asked he would want for nothing but it is the bruising and the fact that his lover is in the chair that makes him physically shake.

Colton was a smart man. Chances were … it was already dealt with. The attempted robbery was just that: an attempt. A failure because Colton knew how to hold his own in a fight. That doesn’t change Dion’s wish to have been there rather than working at his usual place. It burns through him, regret —- anger, and even sorrow.

A sigh sounds, slow and measured. He needed to breathe. Needed to not go on a manhunt because Colton was sitting before him and a fucking wheelchair with more injuries than he could simply see.

“Where … are you hurt?”

The words come slow as he stands back up straight, looming down and absolutely demanding an answer. “Where did they touch what’s mine?”

If he could do anything to calm Dion down he wish he could. Yet he didn’t know what to do in this instance, they had never come across such an issue like this before. Normally Colton was able to hold his own just fine but when multiple men ambush him and he’s still trying desperately to hobble around with his cane it doesn’t end well. 

When Dion asks about where he’s hurt and where the men had touched him his head immediately glances to the ground, he felt stiff and just ready to take a pain pill to help melt the pain away, but he needed to be as lucid as possible in order for Dion to have the complete story.

“Got tha nice shiner t’ my eye,” he starts with this, only because it didn’t take Dion long to catch that one. Hell it was the first thing he caught, “T’ere were a few of ‘em, kickin’ an’ punchin’ at me. Got me in tha side well enough t’at ‘m sore an’ one of ‘em even snagged my cane an’ beat me wit’ it.”

A sigh of defeat and he glances up to Dion, sure he didn’t look to beat up but he was sure now hearing what happened he would want to see the extent of the damage.

anger flares behind eyes the moment he notices —- all of half a second of calm before he is moving and positively seething. one hand comes down to brace against the arm of the wheelchair; knuckles already bruised but threatening to turn white, the other hand is more gentle despite how much anger actually radiates from him. fingers splay over a bruise he did not create, the pads chilled from his work in the kitchen. eyes burn as he searches flesh for answers, the silence pushing him to break it. “colton.”

there is no room for much discussion as he waits for an answer. someone had touched what wasn’t theirs and already he wants to see their blood, to  be the one to cause it to spatter. possessiveness takes hold of all proper thinking as he carefully smooths his thumb over broken skin. someone was going to pay very dearly if he got his way.                                                                 { @wingsonxfire }

Colton should’ve seen this coming. First being in the wheelchair that he swore he would never use again since the day he was able to get out of it and now the bruise that painted the side of his face. It wasn’t even the worst of them all, which was the sad part. Dion had merely seen the first punch that had started the whole uproar. 

“Dion..”

He starts, but he isn’t sure where to continue. The whole damn transaction had been a giant whir, his mind was trying to wrap around even to this moment. But he knew the longer he remained silent the more frustrated and angry Dion would get, course not at him but mad in general, hell he would be mad too if he wasn’t completely positive that Dion couldn’t snap someone’s neck without blinking an eye.

“Some assholes came inta tha bar an’ tried ta rob it t’night… a bunch a regular guys t’at were pissed off when I tried ta cut ‘em off.”

Peeta had no complaints about this, the door had a lock so they were safe enough for now. Just as long as they weren’t away too long then people wouldn’t ask questions about where the two were off to, they could start suspecting what the couple might be doing. Did it bother him? Not in the slightest. Not when he could feel his lover’s hard cock in his palm, it was all he cared about, pleasing his lover. Despite the fabric covering it, his fingers wrap around the length as best as he could and gave small jerks to it through the underwear, he was more than glad that they didn’t wait until they got home. It didn’t mean they couldn’t do it again when they got there though. 

If anyone had saw them come in here, all it would mean is that they’d hear a knock and maybe have to quiet for a minute before they’d leave, so there was no problem. 

“Quick?” He questions between his lips, smirking and pulling back. “You sure you can be quick? You’re getting old.” The artist teases him playfully, only now as he spoke, his fingers weaved through the fabric, tugging it down enough so he could grasp the skin of Colton’s cock, resuming his stroking of the erection now within his palm. He couldn’t resist teasing him, he found it too amusing. 

Colton softly moans as Peeta’s hand works around his cock, but the comment has him chuckling softly and with a shake of his head he lands a hand against Peeta’s backside– a smirk growing wide as he grips and clicks his tongue, “Most certainly not, y’know betta t’an t’at. I may be a bit older t’an yas but ‘m definitely not goin’ ta be quick cause a t’at. I t’ought ya were wantin’ me ta be quick anyway because ya needed ta get back out t’ all ya fans out t’ere.” He pushes down Peeta’s pants to expose his length as well as his ass, “C’mon love,” he smiles and palms over the others skin, palms rounding his ass then spanning along his hips. Colton’s face nuzzles into the others neck as he presses close and kisses along his neck, “let me bend ya ova t’is table an’ have my way wit’ yas?”