Summer fic challenge 2018, part 5.
Sep. 20th, 2018 06:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
merikuru posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
volieredeatoriOMG I DID IT
*collapses in sheer relief*
The skin beneath Crowe's fingers, as he gently tends Arumat's wounds, is surprisingly warm.
By now, he's grown used to some of the more basic quirks of Eldarian physiology - things like lower body temperature, slower heart rate, enhanced hearing and vision - and they don't throw him off any more, so it's startling and maybe a little bit worrying that Arumat is so warm to the touch right now. The last thing they need is for one of those wounds to be infected, or for some sort of illness to set in - it isn't as if he can make proper Eldarian medicines in the middle of warp, the ship's stores are already low on the materials they need to make their own treatments and there's no guaranteed chance to restock for a while yet... "Hold still," he says absently when Arumat squirms, tries to shift away from the antiseptic-soaked cloth that's currently dabbing at his side. "I'm almost done."
"You said exactly that almost fifteen minutes ago." Arumat's voice is a low, petulant growl, his eyes promising retribution, but he obediently goes still again, briefly baring his teeth at the sharp sting that comes when Crowe presses the cloth firmly to that wound for a moment. "I didn't believe you then, and I believe you even less now."
Crowe snorts a soft laugh at that, lifts the cloth away and peels the backing from the adhesive edges of a large bandage, pressing it into place over the wound with a satisfied nod. "I meant it this time. That's the last one." He sits back, inspects his work and nods again - if he's honest, he's likely overdone it a bit, but better safe than sorry. "Take it easy for a couple of days. That means no battle simulator," he says sternly, before Arumat can speak, and he has to fight not to grin at the utterly indignant look he gets in response, though the serious mood quickly takes over again. "Hey, pass me my scanner, would you? You feel a little warm, I'd like to--"
Arumat interrupts with a sigh, rolls his eyes with a slow, exquisite annoyance that would make even the sulkiest of teenagers proud, folding his arms and shaking his head. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop worrying about me? I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. And I'm fine," he tacks on when Crowe pouts, sighing again and closing his eyes into a wince that clearly reads save me from idiotic Earthlings. "Don't look at me like that. Will you shut up if I give it to you?"
"Maybe," Crowe shrugs, holding out a hand. "Give it here."
"Why do I even bother asking. You never shut up." But where the statement might have been insulting from anyone else, something in Arumat's tone makes it sound almost fond, almost like some strange term of endearment, and that might just be the faintest hint of a tolerant smile on his lips as he reaches for the palm-sized device, slaps it into Crowe's hand. Honestly, when he thinks about it, he feels almost like he's starting to get used to this, and perhaps most unsettling of all is that he can't really find that as bad of a thought as he'd like to. "I expect you'll find nothing wrong. You're just being paranoid."
"It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you," Crowe says absently, directing the infrared beam along Arumat's body and frowning at the display. "Heart rate normal, respirations normal, temperature normal...that's strange. I could have sworn--" he cuts himself off with a petulant twist of mouth, reaches out again with his other hand, pressing curious fingers to Arumat's skin. "No, you do feel warm, but...alright, I'm officially confused. Maybe I'm just tired." He sighs, lowers the scanner and rubs a hand over his face. "...Feels nice, though. The warmth, I mean."
"And you get mad at me for not resting." Arumat studies the Earthling critically, takes in the slightly distant set of his shoulders, the lines of exhaustion on his face, and feels a sudden rush of sympathy. No matter how annoying it is, Crowe really has been working hard to keep him - and everyone - safe, and that's something he can respect. "Come here," he finds himself saying before he knows he's going to speak, reclaiming the scanner and putting it aside, then capturing Crowe's arms in a firm grip to pull him closer, a little relieved when he doesn't resist. "You won't be doing anyone any good if you don't take care of yourself. You know that."
"...I know." Crowe swallows hard, trying to fight down the sudden vulnerability in his voice, and frankly he's a little glad when he's close enough to bury his face in Arumat's shoulder just so he doesn't have to look at him. "I just - everyone is counting on me, Arumat. I can't let them down. There's no time to do anything but just keep going..." he trails into a shuddering sigh, brings his hands up to clutch at Arumat's biceps, feeling distinctly pitiful. "I'm sorry. Listening to me whine is the last thing you need right now."
Arumat snorts softly, shifts a little so he can put an awkward arm around Crowe, tilting his head to murmur quietly at the ear not pressed against his shoulder. "Someone told me once," he begins, lets his eyes lid closed, reliving faint memory. "You can only be a good leader if you let those who follow you see the real you. Show them your vulnerability, show them your fear. Let them see they're not alone - that you're just as human as any of them." He can't help a wry, humorless smile, pushing back the thought that he's really being a bit of a hypocrite right now, but - what else is he supposed to do, really?
Crowe doesn't say anything for a long moment, considering that; when he finally looks up, it's with a smile, wobbly and uncertain but still there. "...So does that mean you're considering yourself one of my followers?"
"I didn't say that." Arumat frowns at him, feeling an ear quiver underneath its covering in faint embarrassment. "Are you going to shut your mouth and get some rest now?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry." Crowe's shoulders sag a little, tiredly, and he closes his eyes, tilts his head in to rest against Arumat's neck. "...For what it's worth? I'd follow you any day if I had the choice."
Arumat's ear trembles again, and he swallows down an embarrassed growl, though he's sure by now Crowe can tell how much he's trying to act unaffected. "Just go to sleep."
Crowe chuckles, softly, breathily, and settles a little closer to do exactly that.
*collapses in sheer relief*
The skin beneath Crowe's fingers, as he gently tends Arumat's wounds, is surprisingly warm.
By now, he's grown used to some of the more basic quirks of Eldarian physiology - things like lower body temperature, slower heart rate, enhanced hearing and vision - and they don't throw him off any more, so it's startling and maybe a little bit worrying that Arumat is so warm to the touch right now. The last thing they need is for one of those wounds to be infected, or for some sort of illness to set in - it isn't as if he can make proper Eldarian medicines in the middle of warp, the ship's stores are already low on the materials they need to make their own treatments and there's no guaranteed chance to restock for a while yet... "Hold still," he says absently when Arumat squirms, tries to shift away from the antiseptic-soaked cloth that's currently dabbing at his side. "I'm almost done."
"You said exactly that almost fifteen minutes ago." Arumat's voice is a low, petulant growl, his eyes promising retribution, but he obediently goes still again, briefly baring his teeth at the sharp sting that comes when Crowe presses the cloth firmly to that wound for a moment. "I didn't believe you then, and I believe you even less now."
Crowe snorts a soft laugh at that, lifts the cloth away and peels the backing from the adhesive edges of a large bandage, pressing it into place over the wound with a satisfied nod. "I meant it this time. That's the last one." He sits back, inspects his work and nods again - if he's honest, he's likely overdone it a bit, but better safe than sorry. "Take it easy for a couple of days. That means no battle simulator," he says sternly, before Arumat can speak, and he has to fight not to grin at the utterly indignant look he gets in response, though the serious mood quickly takes over again. "Hey, pass me my scanner, would you? You feel a little warm, I'd like to--"
Arumat interrupts with a sigh, rolls his eyes with a slow, exquisite annoyance that would make even the sulkiest of teenagers proud, folding his arms and shaking his head. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop worrying about me? I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. And I'm fine," he tacks on when Crowe pouts, sighing again and closing his eyes into a wince that clearly reads save me from idiotic Earthlings. "Don't look at me like that. Will you shut up if I give it to you?"
"Maybe," Crowe shrugs, holding out a hand. "Give it here."
"Why do I even bother asking. You never shut up." But where the statement might have been insulting from anyone else, something in Arumat's tone makes it sound almost fond, almost like some strange term of endearment, and that might just be the faintest hint of a tolerant smile on his lips as he reaches for the palm-sized device, slaps it into Crowe's hand. Honestly, when he thinks about it, he feels almost like he's starting to get used to this, and perhaps most unsettling of all is that he can't really find that as bad of a thought as he'd like to. "I expect you'll find nothing wrong. You're just being paranoid."
"It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you," Crowe says absently, directing the infrared beam along Arumat's body and frowning at the display. "Heart rate normal, respirations normal, temperature normal...that's strange. I could have sworn--" he cuts himself off with a petulant twist of mouth, reaches out again with his other hand, pressing curious fingers to Arumat's skin. "No, you do feel warm, but...alright, I'm officially confused. Maybe I'm just tired." He sighs, lowers the scanner and rubs a hand over his face. "...Feels nice, though. The warmth, I mean."
"And you get mad at me for not resting." Arumat studies the Earthling critically, takes in the slightly distant set of his shoulders, the lines of exhaustion on his face, and feels a sudden rush of sympathy. No matter how annoying it is, Crowe really has been working hard to keep him - and everyone - safe, and that's something he can respect. "Come here," he finds himself saying before he knows he's going to speak, reclaiming the scanner and putting it aside, then capturing Crowe's arms in a firm grip to pull him closer, a little relieved when he doesn't resist. "You won't be doing anyone any good if you don't take care of yourself. You know that."
"...I know." Crowe swallows hard, trying to fight down the sudden vulnerability in his voice, and frankly he's a little glad when he's close enough to bury his face in Arumat's shoulder just so he doesn't have to look at him. "I just - everyone is counting on me, Arumat. I can't let them down. There's no time to do anything but just keep going..." he trails into a shuddering sigh, brings his hands up to clutch at Arumat's biceps, feeling distinctly pitiful. "I'm sorry. Listening to me whine is the last thing you need right now."
Arumat snorts softly, shifts a little so he can put an awkward arm around Crowe, tilting his head to murmur quietly at the ear not pressed against his shoulder. "Someone told me once," he begins, lets his eyes lid closed, reliving faint memory. "You can only be a good leader if you let those who follow you see the real you. Show them your vulnerability, show them your fear. Let them see they're not alone - that you're just as human as any of them." He can't help a wry, humorless smile, pushing back the thought that he's really being a bit of a hypocrite right now, but - what else is he supposed to do, really?
Crowe doesn't say anything for a long moment, considering that; when he finally looks up, it's with a smile, wobbly and uncertain but still there. "...So does that mean you're considering yourself one of my followers?"
"I didn't say that." Arumat frowns at him, feeling an ear quiver underneath its covering in faint embarrassment. "Are you going to shut your mouth and get some rest now?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry." Crowe's shoulders sag a little, tiredly, and he closes his eyes, tilts his head in to rest against Arumat's neck. "...For what it's worth? I'd follow you any day if I had the choice."
Arumat's ear trembles again, and he swallows down an embarrassed growl, though he's sure by now Crowe can tell how much he's trying to act unaffected. "Just go to sleep."
Crowe chuckles, softly, breathily, and settles a little closer to do exactly that.
