1x1 -- Curious and Stormy

[Curious]

"The Navy is really that bad, huh?" Chyhir murmured, mostly to himself.
His expression turned from thoughtful to concerned at his companion's complaint. His brow knit with even more sympathy than before. It pained him to see Scott in such agony, both emotional and physical.
"Oh-- I'm sorry. I wouldn't be pressing this hard if I didn't have to. I know it hurts, but I suppose you'll just have to tough through it. If it's really that bad, I could get you a painkiller," he suggested. "I would offer a sedative so you could get some rest, but I don't want to spend our supply where it isn't crucial, I apologize."
Scott's words again squeezed Chyhir's heart.
"Hey, at least I'm listening to you instead of the sound of a building crashing down on me and crushing me. Again, I have you to thank for that. Besides, your whining only hurts my ears a little." He winked playfully, hoping it would liven his captain's spirits a bit.

[stormy tom]

"You have no idea," Scott whispered.
He tried to control his breathing. Usually he'd be more restrained with his emotions but he felt so relaxed next to Chyhir. Like he could let it all out and show what he was truly feeling.
"I don't need any medicine," he replied. He never likes being sedated, nor did he prefer to take any kind of Medicine at all. Instead, he reached for Chyhir's free hand and squeezed it, hoping for some comfort and getting it.
"So stupid of me to get shot..." He grumbled, then coughed roughly, tasting smoke. It would take a while to be rid of that taste... but at least he was still alive.

[Curious]

I didn't think that the Navy could be so-- Oh, goodness. Chyhir's cheeks blossomed with color. The sensation of their hands being intertwined felt ridiculously natural, like they'd done it a million times before, and yet thrilling at the same time. Scott's rough, blaster-calloused fingers against his own smooth ones caused warmth to course through his arm. He tried not to stare.
"More like damn tough, if you ask me." Chyhir forced himself to think about their conversation instead of how well their hands fit together like puzzle pieces. "I don't think I would've been that resilient, in your position, honestly. You were so quiet about it, too, that I had no idea you had been shot until I noticed you were limping."
The pad of his thumb ran over the side of Scott's hand rhythmically. Up and down. Up and down.
"Self-confidence or no, you did an outstanding job. I'm really proud, if it's in my position to say such a thing as a friend. Well...I mean, I assume we're friends, yes?"
Chyhir hadn't really thought about that before. Thinking back on it, he couldn't remember any point at which the two of them officially became friends. It just seemed to...happen. Or at least on his end.

[stormy tom]

Scott felt his body naturally relax without the need to tell it to do so. He wondered why he suddenly felt so much calmer... ah. Chyhir was rubbing his thumb along his hand.
Their hands were so different. Scott's were rough and powerful, long fingers well used to gripping a weapon, while Chyhir's were gentler and smaller, yet still possessed a strength Scott would be interested to discover as he in in turn discovered the man attached to them. What sort of man had he picked up? He felt he already had a pretty good idea, but always found it interesting to learn in depth as they experienced more adventures together.
Another wave of agony coursed through him and he squeezed again. "I'm not sure if that's toughness or stupidity..." he coughed out. "I barely noticed. Not the first time either... I've been luck someone spotted the more serious injuries I hadn't noticed in the past or they might have taken a turn for the worst. I'm not exactly known for my self-awareness when it comes to bodily well-being."
Scott was always very aware of his surroundings, but generally tried to forget his physical condition until the fight was over. It helped him keep up the adrenaline to push through whatever was going on.
"I promise I've done better," he said, craning his neck to have a look at the injury site. There was a fair amount of blood smeared all over his leg and soaked into the compress. "That's the best aim for a guard I've ever seen," Scott growled through his teeth, falling back. "Generally they miss or graze."
And generally I'm paying better attention...
All the muscles in his arm and across his chest flexed as he tightened his grip on Chyhir's hand again.

[Curious]

Chyhir didn't slow his thumb's movements when Scott squeezed his hand. He used to do this sort of thing for children and people who were particularly sensitive all the time when he had stable jobs on various planets.
I hope the hospital will be alright without me... Luckily, they're not low on staff, so I don't think I need to worry. And these guys need me, clearly. I made the right decision to come. I think.
"Well, I suppose that's my job, now--to constantly be on the watch for health issues in the crew. So I'll keep a special eye on you. Not that I wasn't, already," he chuckled, then winced when Scott squeezed his hand again with even more force. "Are you sure you don't want a painkiller? You look like you're in a lot of pain, poor dear..."
He leaned over to the beside table, grabbing a fresh towel and replacing the dirty one against Scott's wound.

[stormy tom]

"I'm really sure I don't want a painkiller," Scott replied. "I'm not a big fan of medication, unless it's absolutely necessary. Besides, I've got everything I need right here." he gave Chyhir's hand a softer squeeze, and then... then a smile. It was a gentle smile, soft on a face tight with pained and fatigued lines. For a moment his face relaxed.
I don't mind if he keeps an eye on me, frankly... nice to know someone who isn't patronizing or too rough will be making sure I'm okay. I can hardly be trusted to look after myself...
"Sam's a great friend, and I love the rest of my crew, but frankly I think I rather you keep an eye on my physical well-being than anybody else. I think the gentlest person is probably Halia, but she's no doctor. She can compress a wounds and tie a bandage, but she's not equipped to really treat anybody. And I have a tendency to come out of a fight with a scratch or two." Scott was quite willing to admit all of this to the man leaning over him. Those eyes... staring right at him with such a caring gaze... it actually made him feel comforted instead of uncomfortable. Generally he hated to be touched, especially when injured.
"I got lucky running into you," he smiled again up at Chyhir. It was a grateful smile. "Now that I think about it I've been pretty lucky to even survive until now."
His crew wasn't really very good at anything too medical. Generally they found a hospital if anybody needed something serious.
"You might see a lot of me on this table," Scott sighed. Did I say that...? I'll have to keep up with that... his first instinct was always to shut himself in his room and take care of himself.

[Curious]

Chyhir could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. Scott's words--his smile...they were just so sweet that he could have kissed him. Well, he did kiss him, actually, on the forehead like a doting mother. His lips lingered for a few moments and he broke away with a rather embarrassed expression.
"Oh gosh, I...I just remembered I promised myself not to do that again after the first time... Um, I'm sorry. That's probably way too forward of me and I don't want to make you more uncomfortable than you already are. I'll stop, I swear." He chewed his bottom lip and looked away shyly.
"Well uh...I'm not necessarily glad to hear that you're injured often, but I'm glad to hear that you're okay with me tending to them. And I'll enjoy the company, anyway," he explained with a tiny laugh, "seeing as I'm too used to being alone."

[stormy tom]

Scott felt his entire body melt as Chyhir kissed his forehead.
He opened his eyes when the doctor spoke, his rare smile only widening. "It's okay, I don't mind," he reassured quietly.
But that confession just about broke his heart. His smile fell away and his eyebrows furrowed. "Alone?" Scott couldn't imagine. He'd never really been alone. He was a bit of a solitary creature, but he'd always had people around when he needed them, and a small group of close friends who understood how he operated. "Well I promise you won't be alone anymore. My crew is my family, and now you've got all of them. We all look after each other."
In a bought of instinct, Scott chose to listen to his heart. He released Chyhir's hand and reached up for his face, cupping his cheek. "I promise."
And when Scott made a promise, he kept it.
His hand fell away as another wave of pain seized him up. All the softness left his body as his muscles tightened. "I promise I don't generally get hurt this badly," he groaned through gritted teeth. "It's generally just a graze or two... gmmmnnnn I can't really feel my toes, is that supposed to happen?" Scott wasn't sure if that was just his body responding to the pain, his mind playing games with him, or what: he wasn't the doctor. Maybe it was just poor blood flow making them go cold. He looked pretty pale, too, from combined blood loss and pain.
"I'm going to need to buy some new trousers at our next pit stop," he muttered, mostly to himself.

[Curious]

That whole situation was just so tender--it was overwhelming. Despite the calm air between them, Chyhir's heart was slamming against his ribcage. As he sat slightly bent over this injured man with his hand on his cheek, he could feel a bond forming with each passing second. He realized he'd never felt so close to anyone in such a short time before. Was it because they'd been through such dangerous situations together? Was it because they complimented each other so well? Maybe it was even because Scott was opening up to him. Chyhir couldn't tell. One thing was for sure, though--he wanted to kiss him again, and, this time, on the lips. He had never, in his life, wanted to do something like that to someone specific until just then. He ignored this impulse, however.
The doctor could have whimpered at the loss of Scott's warm palm on his cheek, but he swallowed the sound before it could make his way out of his throat. Scott was in pain, he couldn't expect him to keep holding his arm up like that.
"Yes, ever since I left Achlad, I've lived alone. I made some friends here and there during my time at different planets, but never...a really good friend. I suppose that's a big reason that I decided to stay with you. I really like you. I mean...a-as a friend," he mumbled as he stood and walked across the room to the container of heated blankets. He grabbed one and sat back down, draping it over Scott's feet and avoiding his gaze all the while. "I'm glad I met you, too. For whatever reason I seem really...relaxed around you. I don't easily open up to people, usually, but I seem to naturally socialize with you. It's strange, but not unwelcome."

[stormy tom]

Scott listened, welcoming the warmth at his feet. "Well you've got eight more friends," he said softly, starting to lose the strength to stay awake much longer. The day had really worn him out. He had done a lot of running, shooting, carrying, and stressing. And now his injury was using up the last of his energy.
Pale-faced a shivering just a little Scott reached for the doctor's hand again, groping for it as he lost his coordination. "Just gonna...go back...to sleep...." He muttered. "Feel free to... stitch me up."
His hand fell away as he lost consciousness, drifting into the peaceful land of dreams.
He really likes me... he likes me... likes me...