"We love the things we love for what they are." -Robert Frost
"Gilbert Beilschmidt, I knew you were capable of stupid things, but this has really exceeded all my expectations."
Roderich Edelstein sat cross-legged in front of his boyfriend, who lounged lazily on his couch, trying to appear as if he wasn't in the pain he was so obviously feeling. Gilbert's wrist, purple and swollen, rested gently in his hands, and the albino gave a poorly hidden grimace every time it was moved even slightly. He had been stupid enough, apparently, to try and skate a halfpipe even though never having had stepped on a skateboard before in his life. As any sane person would expect, he had fallen off, badly spraining his writing wrist and garnering dozens of scrapes and pavement burns. This, truly, was one of the dumbest things Roderich knew of him having done.
"Christ, Specs," Gilbert winced as Roderich began to wrap up his wrist in a bandage, "I'm a little offended. It wasn't that bad, just a little tumble. Guess you can't help but worry about your true love, huh?" He grinned and winked awkwardly.
"Oh, you're lucky it was just a little tumble," the Austrian fumed, "Otherwise you could have broken something, and you'd have to own up to your grandfather! What then, Gilbert? What then? I know he's tired of paying for the medical consequences of your misadventures." Roderich finished wrapping GIlbert's wrist, and started assessing his other, more minor injuries. "What were you thinking?"
Gilbert started to look like he genuinely felt bad, and Roderich suddenly felt he had been much too harsh. "I guess… I wasn't really thinking at all."
Roderich grunted indignantly, examining a scrape on the albino's elbow. "That does not surprise me." He really did love Gilbert, but honestly, he did question quite a bit why he didn't seem to ever think when it mattered most.
"Maybe I can tell everyone at school I got in a fight," he mused with a lopsided grin. "With a guy twice my size. And here's the best part- I won."
"That imagination of yours gets put to use in all the wrong ways, Gilbert." Frowning, Roderich glanced around, searching for something. "Where did I set those bandaids…?"
Looking like a scolded puppy, Gilbert replied, "Look, Roddy, I'm sorry… I know it was stupid, okay? I feel bad enough about it already."
The Austrian paused his search to give a sigh. "I know. It's alright, I just... worry about you." And he did, more than anything, sometimes. He loved Gilbert more than anyone, and he just wanted him to be safe, and out of harms way, and on the path to success. Yet, when he pulled stunts like this, Roderich couldn't help but feel the need to worry even though he knew Gilbert was perfectly capable of worrying about himself. It just didn't seem like it, a lot of the time.
He almost looked surprised. "You… you do?"
"Of course, why would I not? I love you, Gilbert, and I don't like to see you hurt." Roderich procured the missing bandaids at last, grinning triumphantly.
"Thanks, Specs… I-I love you too. A lot, actually." He smiled somewhat awkwardly as his boyfriend carefully cleaned up and covered his elbow with a bandaid. "I'll… try to be less reckless. Even if the consequences could be awesome."
"Just be yourself, Gilbert. I love you for that. But I would appreciate not having to clean you up as much. There are better ways we could be spending the time, as much as I don't mind doing this." Roderich stood up on his knees, busily patching up a cut on Gilbert's forehead and wondering if it would leave a scar. That was certainly not the most fortunate place for one…
Yet, he didn't think he would mind if it left one, anyway. Roderich loved Gilbert and everything about him, and a little scar would not change that. Despite being thoughtless, Gilbert was handsome, and funny (if crude), and the only person like him out there. In his 17 years of living, Roderich had never had someone who could sometimes be his worst nightmare mean so much to him.
"Roddy?"
"Hm?"
"Thank you for this," Gilbert said as the last of his minor injuries was attended to. "For taking care of me like you've been doing."
Roderich pushed back his white hair, and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on the other boy's forehead. "Of course."
Gilbert carefully slid his arms around Roderich's waist, and pulled him close. "I love you lots. Even if you're kinda prissy. And you always wear cravats."
"Robert Frost once said, 'we love the things we love for what they are.'"
"Well, I don't know who that is, but he's definitely right."
And then, without hesitation, Gilbert pulled him into a kiss, and Roderich was caught off-guard for a moment. Then he was kissing back, and entangling the hands he knew Gilbert loved so much behind his neck, his lips all soft and warm and full of love.
Gilbert pulled away quickly, breaking the fantasy of the moment. "Wait, question. Since my wrist's busted, will you do my homework for me?"
Roderich grinned, and straightened his glasses. "You're perfectly capable," he retorted, before pulling him to his lips again. He knew that, at least in that moment, everything was as it should be.