Title: Tending Wounds
Author: Foxy
Rating: PG
Character(s): Roy Harper, Jason Todd, mentions of Koriand'r
Warning(s): Light slash, minor burns
A/N: Characters belong to DC Comics
The water was tepid at best, sluicing up the sides of the claw foot bathtub which each movement. It wasn't that they couldn't get hot water – for once their chosen safehouse was half way decent – but that it was more comfortable, at least for Roy.
The archer sat between Jason's bent legs, head bowed with exhaustion. The ends of his red hair were damp and curling around his neck and shoulders. Jason palmed one hip and raised the washcloth with his other hand, dripping just below room temperature water along Roy's back. The older man shivered, but stayed where he was.
The back of his neck and the lines of his shoulder blades were an angry, fiery red, and Jason could feel heat radiating from them when his hand drifted close. Delicately, he began to brush the washcloth over the burns, cleaning away the fragments of ash and mud that clung to the skin. He winced in sympathy when Roy gave a quiet, pained gasp, spine involuntarily arching away from the touch.
Thankfully, the burns were nothing life threatening, not even second degree, and Jason thanked his foresight in having a new costume created for Roy that was made of the same fire retardant material that was standard Bat issue. It clearly hadn't been able to protect him fully, but it had saved his skin, and possibly even Roy's life.
This was Jason's fault, even if Roy would contest it. Jason had been the one not paying attention while they were stuck inside a burning building. He'd been too concerned with making sure the meth lab was destroyed to hear the crack of a beam as it fell. Roy had heard it, and had pushed Jason out of the way just in time for the hunk of wood – that just so happened to be on fire – collapsed on top of him.
Jason's own fingers were blistered and red from where he'd tried to pry the beam off of Roy's back. But the burns were less extensive, and much less painful. It'd been Kory that had finally disintegrated the wood, with an expertly aimed starbolt.
Roy was lucky his suit hadn't melted, but Jason still remembers the whimper than escaped when they peeled the ruined fabric from his skin.
A far too similar noise jolted Jason from his thoughts and he realized he'd been pressing the cloth too hard against one of the nastier looking splotches. He quickly retracted his hand, guilt weighing down his stomach. "Sorry," he murmured, and began his gentle caresses again.
"S'fine," Roy said, voice drowsy.
They were out of prescription pain meds, leaving Roy to make due with simple aspirin. By far, it wasn't enough, but it took some of the edge off at least. They would bandage up his back and neck when Jason finished cleansing the grime off.
Injuries were all part of the job, especially when you tended to take a nastier approach to the villains. Most generally, they would in turn get nasty back, anything to save their worthless hides. Jason hoped every last one of the drug dealing fuckers had burned in the building.
The water made a small splash when Jason dropped his hand back down. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on an uninjured patch of Roy's shoulder. Take care of Roy first, he told himself, then check the scene for the bodies.