Elliot Knight was in a very poor state.
Not too long ago, he had been on an exhilarating mission with merely receiving his usual minor bruises and cuts. He had been pelting away determinedly, attempting to finish his daring heist with the one last desired loot he had yet to steal. Everything was going immaculately perfect: the Teen Titan's were lagging behind him, though still showering him with their varying super powers from long distance range. He easily eluded each. At least until his lanky limbs had begun to tire and his usually sharp movements became unfortunately clumsier. Soon, he had accidentally tumbled hard onto the rough ground, after an iridescent starbolt exploded abruptly from besides him, the immense impact ricocheting him harshly and the green fire burning through his costume and to his vulnerable skin horribly. Immediately, his left arm seemed to excruciatingly agonise, as it lay bent horrifically at an unnatural angle, his entire torso seemed to have been badly burnt and his poor head was banging painfully as the dreary world swam before his amber eyes. Before Kyd WYkkyd knew it, Robin had been on him, roughly pinning him down, ensuring he was entirely defeated. Dark blotches had invaded his spinning, dizzying vision and he was even sobbing at the merciless agony in his terribly broken arm and terrible scoldings. He was obviously going to be unconscious within mere minutes- he had to escape. Fast. But where would he go? How would he heal himself? Worryingly, his pained moans seemed ominously distant: most certainly not a good sign. Therefore, he had strainedly gathered all of his deteriorating strength and somehow managed to successfully teleport himself to his own apartment, flopping strengthlessly on his comfortable bed. Immediately, he fell unconscious, bloody and battered.
Seymour Smith had of course instantly knew something was terribly wrong. Elliot never ever missed literally fifty calls and sixty texts, especially from Seemore in particular. Therefore, he was anxiously storming out of the menacingly familiar base, scarcely preventing himself from panicking vehemently. He was donned in a loose, vintage, mint sweater with a pastel green t-shirt underneath that were both tucked neatly in a soft, light blue ankle-length cropped slacks. He had his favourite baby green converse shoes on, obviously in his dearly required helmet and had on his golden necklace with the small bee charm. However, Seymour wasn't that far from exiting when abruptly a large fist punched his side awfully hard so that he tumbled painfully into the opposite wall, before crumpling to the floor. Seemore groaned painedly, clasping his ruthlessly throbbing side as he stood up shakily, knowing instantly who had done it. The very same person menacingly advanced with a mocking smirk, roughly grabbing a vast fistful of Seymour's comfy top and slamming him aggressively into the hard wall, Seemore remaining entirely limp. After all, if he was to struggle, then Private Hive wouldn't take it easy on him. But then, he never did.
Private spat intimidatingly,"Where we out to then? Need I knock some answers from you, or will you tell me willingly?"
"Pr-private, please! I-I ju-just need to go o-out! I'm mi-might be gon-gone the night, bu-but I promise I wo-won't miss the onco-oncoming heist tomorrow!,"Seymour shrilled fearfully.
"Ah. Now I've been meaning to ask you where have been going recently,"he hummed maliciously.
"No-nowhere!,"Seemore stuttered anxiously.
"Oh really?,"he jeered cruelly.
Abruptly, Private violently slapped him hard across the face, eliciting Seymour to squeal frightenedly and for Private Hive to snicker amusedly. He leaned again closer and smirked entertainedly at the dishevelling affect he was having on the poor boy's traumatised, overwhelmingly fearful mind. Private malevolently repeated his intrusive question and Seemore attempted to say something even slightly coherently but to no avail. Oh. Oh no.
"So. You aren't telling then? Well, as the leader of the Hive Five, I need to ensure some discipline, don't I? Well, stay still as some sense is properly knocked into you,"Private bellowed excitedly.
Before Seymour could even react, Private cunningly yanked away his useful, green helmet and instantly, everything went frighteningly black. Now, he was absolutely defenceless. He wriggled feebly with pained moans as Private Hive began striking his vulnerable stomach way too hard, only to then swung him brutally onto the hard floor. Seemore yelped painedly and tried urgently to shuffle away when suddenly Private suddenly leapt at him and caught his exposed throat in a full on throttle. Private sniggered heartlessly as Seymour gasped breathlessly and instantly afterwards tossed him roughly all across the dreary corridor. Seymour trembled fearfully, laying weakly on his front, expecting the subsequent touch to be another blow from his foul leader, Private Hive. Not for himself to be stroked tenderly by a familiar hand.
"Honey… c'mon, we are going mine,"came that glorious voice.
A gentle hand lovingly squeezed Seymour's and before he knew it, the hard texture of the metal floor of the Hive Five's dull base turned into the soft feeling of Elliot Knight's thick duvet. Instantly, he relaxed and collapsed into the luxurious presence besides him, feeling only one of Kyd Wykkyd's lanky arms embrace him meekly from behind. Seemore sighed relievedly, though admittedly confused at the lack of affectionate physical contact.
"Are you okay, See? I hate that little-little- ugh! He can really hurt you! But are you good-ish? I have your spare helmet too, just so you can see and, I-,"Elliot yammered anxiously.
"El-ellie? What is this wet stuff on the cover? Why is it- warm?,"Seymour asked unnervedly, before he groped out blindly, soon finding his relieving helmet and slipping it on.
Kyd assured soothingly,"Okay, calm down, honey, don't be alarmed but-"
"WHY IS THERE BLOOD ON THE BED?"
Seemore choked as his sharp vision revealed a comfy double bed…. Soaked in fresh blood! Then of course Seymour's large, green eye flitted back to his taller boyfriend- instantly, he gasped anxiously. Elliot had blanched considerably though his unusually paller face was flushed slightly from sobbing painedly before. He had removed his dark cowl, revealing a loose, low ponytail trailing down his back. And then there was his left arm, that was horrifically bent at an unnatural angle, obviously badly broken as fresh blood spilled from what seemed to be vicious burns all over his lean torso. Of course, he had merely put a fresh set of black pyjamas over his thin chest and had messily wrapped some insecure bandages around his severely injured arm.
Seymour pelted over next to him and tenderly caressed his pale face, breathing raggedly in pure panic. Kyd sombered dolefully and tried to pull Seemore into a reassuring kiss, but his smaller partner prevented it, frowning anxiously. Seymour whimpered and stroked a single hand down Elliot's slightly flushed cheeks, as he relievedly grabbed the discarded medical bag that was fortunately close by. Seemore reached to caringly lift up Kyd's sleepwear, soaked t-shirt, but Elliot recoiled proudly, shaking his head defiantly.
"I am perfectly fine and I am just bleeding a little,"he harrumphed indignantly, wincing painedly as he attempted to sit up stiffly to prove his complete competence.
Well, as it says attempted, doesn't it?
"Look, love, I think you are amazing, but this is dumb. Please, let me help you! C'mon!,"Seymour begged pleadingly, swiftly sitting himself on Kyd's lap with a small pout.
"Fine. But i don't need it! I could easily be fine with how things are right now,"Elliot sighed defeatedly, blushing pleasedly afterwards as Seemore kissed his pale lips appreciatively.
Seemore tenderly pushed Elliot onto his back, shuffling around until he was kindly besides his taller boyfriend and gently striped off his bloody top. Immediately, Seymour winced painedly at the truly awful scene before him: severe bruises, deep cuts and spine-chillingly bad burns. Kyd stared lovingly at Seymour as Seemore gently tended to his horrible wounds. His amber eyes watched Seymour's genuine caring concern, his small, cute figure, his determined pout, even his charming golden, bee-charmed necklace and countless other perfections about his smaller partner. Eventually, he raised his pale hand to gently caress his Seymour Smith's now blushing cheek.
"Love you,"Elliot whispered caringly.
Seemore smiled contentedly, as he was still wiping through Kyd's horrendous wounds and Elliot added even more sweetly,"You're so cute, See. You have such a pretty face and you are just so small and cute. I like your bee necklace too, it really suits you."
Seemore blushed harder, biting his lip to stop from laughing.
"So gentle. So amazing. Thanks, honey… You are a natural at caring for people, hmm?",Elliot hummed playfully, with a flustering wink.
Seymour giggled pleasedly and delightedly leaned over so he could easily kiss Kyd. Elliot returned it affectionately, humming contentedly as he tenderly cupped Seemore's face in his pale hands. Seymour brushed his own hands along Kyd's bare shoulders, relishing the affectionate physicality.
Reluctantly, Seemore peeled away, with the hanging requirement to continue attending to Elliot's atrocious injuries with- okay -a satisfied blush. Kyd tilted his head to the side with a gamesome smile, knowing exactly what he was doing as Seymour flushed beet red, smiling flatteredly. Elliot hummed kittenishly.
"So will you stay with me cos I'm in such an awful state?,"Kyd teased frolicsomely.
"'Tis my solemn duty, love,"Seemore answered back playfully, tenderly petting Elliot's head like he was some cat.
Kyd nuzzled up to it with feline purs, and a gamesome smirk.
After all, sometimes it was nice to be the one cared for.