"Show me the wound."

Makoto gingerly lifted his right leg, where a crimson red streak began from just below the edge of his shorts and ran down the length of his leg. Haruka inhaled sharply; he had no idea it was this bad. "What in the world did you do to get yourself in this state?"

The taller boy scratched the back of his hand sheepishly. "Well, there was this car driving towards me, so I turned my bike to the side to avoid it. Ah, but I did get out of the way in time! I just, uh, lost my balance and -"

"And went skidding down the road with bike in tow," Haruka finished for him. The red streak obviously didn't come from a mere fall; the momentum of Makoto's abrupt turn to avoid the car must have toppled his bike off balance and dragged him a good few inches across the rocky ground. It didn't help that the bike had fallen on top of him – Makoto may have been well-built for an eight-year-old, but even he couldn't be pinned to the ground by a two-wheeler and walk away unscathed.

"But at least I was in front of Haru-chan's house and Haru-chan saw me," Makoto said before laughing lightly.

"Drop the –chan. Do you really think this is a laughing matter?" As if to prove his point, Haruka dabbed the wound with a damp cotton ball using what was probably a little more force than was necessary.

"Ah, Haru-chan, that hurts!"

"Guess you don't find it so funny now. You should be thankful I didn't put your leg under a running tap like I'm supposed to." In truth, Haruka had dropped the notion because Makoto hadn't seemed capable of standing on his own feet for more than two seconds before collapsing. It had already been hard enough half-dragging, half-carrying him to the front porch, so a longer trip to the bathroom was out. Haruka had to settle for a basin of water and a heap of cotton balls.

"What is it?" Makoto asked when he noticed a pause in the movements of Haruka's hand. He followed his friend's gaze to the top of his knee, where the cut ran deeper than the rest of the wound.

"There's some bits of sand and gravel stuck to the side of the cut. This could be tough." Haruka got up and left, returning a minute later with cotton buds and a mug.

"This is salt water, so it'll sting a little. It helps to kill germs though." Dipping one end of a cotton bud into the mug, Haruka then proceeded to prod the cut gently in an attempt to remove the dirt.

"Ah! Aaah… Haru…: Makoto's hand found Haruka's other arm and gripped it instinctively as he gritted his teeth and tried to bear the pain.

"Makoto, you're restricting my movements. Let go of my arm."

"I can't!"

Haruka sighed. "Fine." He reached for another cotton bud, then another, and finally a good half a dozen cotton buds lay discarded to the side and the cut, as well as the rest of the wound, was thoroughly cleaned.

Makoro's grip on Haruka's left arm loosened slightly, although he still didn't let go. "Is it over yet?"

"No, I still have to put on antiseptic." Haruka got a bottle of yellow liquid and used another cotton bud to apply it to the wound.

Makoto watched silently as he worked, before letting out a little sigh. "I guess this means I won't be teaching you to ride on a bike today."

"It's your own fault, being so eager take on the streets after barely getting the hang of it yourself less than a week ago," Haruka chided a dejected Makoto. "Your parents won't be happy when they find out."

"Mum'll probably take away my bike," Makoto agreed sadly. "I'm sorry, Haru. I really wanted to go out and play with you today."

"Never mind. We can stay in and play chess or something."

"But you'll be bored soon. You don't even like chess that much."

Haruka paused, then bent down his head and kissed Makoto's knee softly, right beside the cut. He looked up into the face of a suddenly furiously blushing Makoto. "That's so your wound will heal faster. Then we can go out to play."

As Makoto squawked out a flustered "Ha-haru!" Haruka made a mental note to himself that Makoto was sensitive to kisses on the leg. He intended to fully utilize that information in the future.

…

Years later Haruka had learned that the leg wasn't Makoto's only sensitive spot. He did spot a pattern though.

"Why is your right leg always injured in one way or another," he muttered as he lay on his stomach facing the red streak that ran up Makoto's leg, though this one was a burn instead.

"Always?" Makoto peered down curiously at the top of Haruka's head nestled between his bare legs.

"You don't give your body enough time to heal. The falling debris incident was barely a month ago and now you've gone and burnt yourself on top of everything."

"Ah… well, being a firefighter does seem to come with more risks." Haruka didn't even need to look up to know that Makoto was scratching the back of his head sheepishly again.

"You should quit that part-time job of yours. You've already got enough on your hands with coaching the sports centre's junior swimming classes."

"But the fire station is short on staff – if I left, they'd be even more overworked than they are now. And besides, it's right next to the café you work in."

"I'm sure you can survive not being within a mile's radius of me all day."

"Oh, but then I wouldn't be able to enjoy the lunch Haru-chan prepared for me."

"Drop the –chan." It had become an automatic response by now, every though he knew it had absolutely no effect whatsoever. He was going to be called (and protesting the use of) Haru-chan as long as he and Makoto were together, which he hoped would be till the end of his days.

Still, he sat up abruptly. "I'm leaving. You can take care of yourself," he quipped, picking up Makoto's pants which had been thrown to the side and throwing it at his lover's head.

"You're going to leave me like this?! You're so heartless, Haru!" They both knew he didn't mean it though, and Makoto's next words came with his usual sweet smile. "Well then, a kiss on the wound to let it heal faster then?"

Haruka obliged, trailing kisses along Makoto's leg and further on, tracing a path up his thigh. He coyly stopped short of the part of Makoto's anatomy that desired his mouth the most at present. "There. Do you think that's enough?"

Makoto let out a throaty groan. "Not by far," he growled in a low voice as he pulled Haruka closer.

Suffice to say, if the speed of a wound's recovery really depended on the number of kisses given, then Makoto's leg would be good as new in no time after that night.

This turned out loads different than my first draft; at least I can say I'm happy with the end result, though I actually wanted to do something more M-rated for the last scene. Guess my smut-writing abilities still need some work. First time I wrote for the Free!dom though, so any reviews will be really appreciated. Viva la Makoharu, everybody!