50 Shades of Purple
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Dorian was hit. John tore his eyes from the house where the blasts were ringing out. "Dee?" he called down to Dorian and felt the android yank him down and just out of range of a bullet. Crashing to his knees, John looked over the wounded android who was pulling himself back up to fire more shots over the hood of the cruiser while holding John's head down.
John struggled under the DRN's grip. Dorian took out one of the men who leaned too far around the corner of the window. A thick, purple ooze ran down Dorian's blue coat sleeve, dripping in front of John's face. The detective felt his stomach churn and turn into liquid.
The day he fell in love with Dorian was the day he started hating the color purple in all its shades. Seeing the syrupy insides that helped stick Dorian together dripping out made him sick with worry. He pulled himself out of Dorian's grip and jumped up to help shoot, taking out the other man on a lucky shot. Or Dorian did, it was hard to tell with all the open firing.
It was a holiday weekend, so their backup arrived just in time to be useless, filtering into the house to check on the men inside who were both wounded. John holstered his weapon and turned his attention to Dorian.
"You okay?" he asked, pawing at Dorian's coat and yanking at the buttons to open it.
"John, listen to me," Dorian said, a smile on his face. He felt no pain, only the steady pull at his charge as his system worked in overdrive. "I'm okay, I'm going to need to be repaired and in a moment I'm going to lose power completely." His voice wavered in and out; low, textured, and oddly computerized.
John's eyes scanned him with concern.
"Don't worry, Jooooohhhh-"
Dorian slumped lifeless against the cruiser and John felt panic roil up into his chest. He swallowed it down, examining the bullet wounds that sopped Dorian's gray shirt with streaks of bright purple, the open wounds a mess of wires and sticky liquid in lavender, lilac, plum, violet, and magenta.
He folded gently at the skin to smooth it back down in desperation.
A hand on his shoulder stayed him and he got up while Dorian was picked up by an MX and carried lifelessly away. John followed, pushing past people with questions, nudging his way through the crowd. He wiped his brow, leaving a streak of purple to match the smudges on his cheeks.
A few hours later, Rudy managed to patch Dorian enough to get him back up again. John felt like fresh air was injected into his lungs when he saw those blue eyes pool with life.
Dorian sat up and blinked and smiled. His side was patched with synthetic tape, until the new plate could come in.
"John, you okay?" Dorian asked, sitting up on the table and pulling a fresh shirt over his chest.
John nodded. He was actually a frazzled mess but seeing Dorian up and talking was a relief.
Dorian smiled and licked his thumb then smudged some of the purple grease off John's forehead. "You look like an Easter Egg," he chuckled, right before John silenced him with a crushing kiss.