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adastra121 · 5 months

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Bites, Bruises, and Bandages

Also available on AO3!

Summary: Jin hadn't expected to return to the Seaspring so quickly. Let alone the very next day — and that was to be expected, what with the day he'd had before. He'd need a week at the minimum to recuperate, but after noticing something particular about the lone guardian the night before…he made the spontaneous decision to pay an earlier visit. And this time, he comes with a gift. Hopefully, this visit will go over better than yesterday's…

“Back so soon, Sparrow?”

Honestly, Jin hadn’t expected to be back again so quickly, either. The first time across the misty wastelands, swarming with Soulless, was harrowing enough. Only a fool or someone with a death wish would brave the journey twice just to reach the same bleak, foreboding destination. And just like the first time, Jin apparently checked both boxes.

Ais dropped the cigarette onto the porch and stamped out the embers, smoke blurring into the fog. “Didn’t think you’d make your decision that fast.”

“Oh! I’m not here for the Seaspring. I’m here for you,” Jin said, then realized how familiar the last phrase sounded, particularly for a stranger whom he’d just met the night before, and hurried to correct himself, “I mean, um. I brought this. For you.”

Jin reached into his bag and took out a small jar. Ais’s brow — the one with the scar — quirked up, features subtly softening in surprise. As the Monster looked on, quietly curious, Jin felt compelled to explain.

“I noticed some bruising on your hands — the knuckles — so I thought—Ah, and then there was also last night, I’m sorry about that, by the way…”

Ais held out a hand and Jin practically shoved the jar into his palm. The Monster twisted open the lid with unexpected care and examined the contents.

“This is a healing salve.”

Jin nodded. “For the bruises. And the, um…”

The alchemist trailed off, cheeks burning. Ais slowly grinned at him, a teasing glint in blood-red eyes. “The bite wound?”

His mind flashed back to that small alcove the night before, the two of them pressed together so close and urgent that it may as well have been an embrace. His face mere inches away from Ais’s bare chest, close enough to sense its warmth, see his heartbeat. The Monster’s warm flesh in his mouth, between his teeth. The unexpectedly intoxicating taste of smoke and copper that wouldn’t leave his memory no matter how hard he tried.

Why in seven hells did he do that? Yes, Ais had been — quite rudely and redundantly — covering his mouth, pressing into his space, caging him in with those…strong arms…

But surely, there were other ways of getting out of that predicament that wouldn’t have involved any part of Ais’s body inside his mouth. Jin felt his face grow hotter and hotter as he ruminated over it.

Who bites someone they just met? What is wrong with you?

“Precisely,” he said, attempting the calm, matter-of-fact nonchalance the Monster always seemed to evoke.

Judging by the amused squint in Ais’s eyes, he wasn’t anywhere near successful.

“Didn’t know sparrows had a taste for blood.”

“I-In any case! The salve should also help reduce the likelihood of infection, so…I hope you’ll find it useful.”

Ais hummed thoughtfully, staring at the small pot in his hand with an unreadable expression and Jin suddenly started to have second thoughts. Perhaps it had been foolish of him to visit just for this tiny…gift? Favour?

For some reason, even with yesterday being as eventful as it was, Jin kept thinking back to the Wet Wick — to those bruises, dark and angry across the Monster’s knuckles as he raised the glass to his lips. And that had turned into wondering how often Ais got into fights that resulted in such marks. And then somehow, he’d gotten the fantastic idea that he should give Ais some healing salve because that’s something he can do. And after an entire day being practically powerless to fate, he just wanted to help.

Now that he was actually standing here before the Seaspring, though, he began to have second thoughts. They didn’t know each other all that well, who was he to show up out of the blue and make a random offering like it was at all warranted? No, they were strangers — and Ais got poisoned on a daily basis, what made him think offering him a vague substance was a good idea?

Before Jin could apologize or take back the offending jar or even simply turn on his heel and run, blade-sharp eyes pinned him in place, looking…softer. Somehow. Ais’s mouth had inclined into the barest hint of a smile as he placed the lid back on.

“Thank you,” he said — genuinely, without a hint of the smugness or teasing that Jin had come to expect from him.

“Oh.” Jin’s eye darted to multiple places to avoid the piercing red of Ais’s gaze. Unbidden, his lips pulled into a small smile. “It’s nothing, really.”

Ais studied him for a moment longer — what was he searching for? Oh, Jin realized. This is where a social interaction typically ends. He opened his mouth to mutter a hurried goodbye when Ais cleared his throat.

“…You can come in if you want. I just made tea.”

Jin hesitated for a moment, turning Ais’s invitation over in his head like he was examining a foreign plant sample, and he almost laughed at the irony. To think the last time he stood on these steps, the other had cornered him with a pack of Soulless and accused him of trespassing. This time, hopefully, there was a significantly smaller chance of that happening again.

“Tea sounds lovely,” he replied, attempting to tamp down his widening smile.

It had been a long time since he’d been able to quietly enjoy a cup of tea — he hadn’t packed any of his old blends for his journey to Eridia, nor was there a particular abundance of ingredients to make them on the way. And he wouldn’t expect the Wet Wick to readily serve tea, considering the tastes of the regular patrons.

Jin followed Ais through the doorway, taking in the unnatural stillness of the blood-red lake in the centre, the messy and desperate writing on the crimson pillars. It was still unsettling, but fortunately, he was better prepared for the ghoulish sight of the Seaspring this time. What he was decidedly unprepared for was an excitable Soulless barrelling into him before he took two steps into the building.

“Oof!”

The alchemist’s heart rate spiked involuntarily as the red-eyed Soulless leaped up to his chest — before he willed himself to calm down. Princess didn’t mean him any harm, and that was more than he could say for many of the people he’d encountered since arriving in Eridia. The familiar Soulless creature snuffled, tail wagging back and forth excitedly. A breathless, unbridled laugh flew out of him.

“I’m happy to see you, too, Princess,” he said, and he truly meant it, brushing a hand through the creature’s tendrils.

Before Princess, Jin had never allowed himself to touch another living thing, aside from his plants. Even though he couldn’t really feel her under his fingers, the Soulless creature — dog? — gave him a brief moment of normalcy he desperately craved. And gods, he realized he ought to be careful around any red-eyed Soulless, too, because what would happen if his curse infected the groupmind? What would happen to Princess? To Ais?

A sharp whistle cut across the air. Princess obediently backed off of the alchemist, all six feet back on the floor, though Jin managed to give her one last brush through her tendrils.

He hadn’t exactly had much time to explore the space when he was here last, so he mostly followed Ais’s lead, taking a seat on one of the worn cushions beside a low table. He watched him pour the fragrant tea into a cup, steam dancing between them like cigarette smoke.

“Here.”

“Thank you.” Jin accepted the tea and then he noticed something. “Wait, where’s your cup?”

“There’s only one, but I figured it’d be rude to offer tea then not give any.”

“Then…this was supposed to be yours.” Of course it was. Jin was the one who showed up all of a sudden, out of nowhere, he interrupted his peace, Ais was just being polite, he wasn’t supposed to actually accept the invitation, why was he so bad at this—

“S’fine,” Ais said, interrupting the alchemist’s internal spiral with a light shrug. “This place doesn’t really get many visitors. I usually just use what I need, so this is all I have out at the moment.”

“Truly?” The alchemist’s brows furrowed in confusion as he recalled conversations from the night before. “Not even Vere or Kuras? They seem to be fond of you.”

The Monster’s lip quirked up. “Can you imagine either of them in a place like this?”

Jin considered that for a moment, pictured Vere and Kuras sitting in the room with them. Kuras, his particular warmth and light at odds with the oppressive depth and heat, like comparing sunlight to fire smoke. Vere, with his wild and restless energy, coiled and bound but there nonetheless, a stark contrast to the unnatural stillness of the Seaspring.

“No,” he acquiesced. “I suppose not.”

Then…why did Ais invite him inside? He didn’t think of himself as a typical visitor to a place like the Seaspring — the fact that he’d already visited twice, two days in a row, both times of his own volition, notwithstanding…

Jin raised the cup to his lips, paused, then set it back on the table. “It feels strange to be the only one drinking. Why don’t we just share?”

He pushed the cup back to Ais. “I’ll drink after you.”

Ais let out a short exhale that sounded like a laugh. “Scared I tampered with it? Sorry to disappoint, poison’s more of Leander’s thing.”

“Oh, no!” Jin shook his head, only then realizing how it sounded. He groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I thought it’d be polite to wait for the host to—I’m sorry, I…don’t know how to act around people.”

The Monster was strangely quiet for a moment. Jin couldn’t see his expression from the shield of his bandaged hands but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to read it anyway. The next thing he heard was Ais’s sigh and he tensed, bracing himself for the other’s disappointment.

“Don’t apologize,” Ais mumbled to the alchemist’s shock. “Hosts don’t usually bully their guests this much…No wonder we don’t get many visitors.”

Now that Jin truly thought about it, Ais seemed rather awkward now as well — he simply covered it up better. But Jin noticed how he ran his hand through Princess’s tendrils, almost like she was his lifeline. A spot of familiarity in an unfamiliar situation. Jin understood the feeling better than anyone.

And it was oddly comforting to realize that he wasn’t the only person new to this.

A laugh escaped Jin before he could stop it. He slowly lifted his head and caught Ais’s small smile. “I have a feeling that guests don’t often curse and reprimand the host for asking them to leave their home, either. That, I can apologize for.”

“Hm.” Ais took the cup and raised it in a small toast. “To being a terrible host and a terrible guest.”

And with that, they each took a sip. Jin sighed, letting the warmth from the tea settle into his bones, trying not to think about how close his lips had been to the spot the other man drank from. Strong and sharp with a distinct smokiness, the tea seemed fitting for Ais.

From the corner of his eye, Jin noticed Ais studying the jar of salve again. His curiosity got the better of him, as it often did. “Do they hurt terribly? Your hands…the bruising.”

The Monster pondered on that question for several beats longer than Jin expected, the look in his eyes somewhat distant and resigned. “You get used to it.”

And then those eyes flickered down to Jin’s own hands and the alchemist’s breath caught in his throat. He waited for him to ask about them. Ais hadn’t pried too much the day before, much to Jin’s relief. But he’d seen the monstrous grey and gold for himself — there was no way he didn’t have further questions. Jin knew he would eventually have to answer, whether he was ready or not.

Ais only turned back to the salve — once again, granting the alchemist room to breathe.

“Let’s see if this does any good,” he murmured.

“May I?” Jin held out his hands, though he had no idea what to do with them so they ended up waving about in random, nonsensical gestures.

Ais paused to examine the alchemist — Jin couldn’t help mentally comparing the action to a curious dog, the way his focus intensified on Jin’s hands, the slight, questioning tilt of his head. He and Princess could almost be twins. The thought threatened to send Jin into an unprompted fit of laughter, which wasn’t conducive to his current objective — which was…

…What, exactly? Nursing the Monster who had, just yesterday, threatened him and teased him relentlessly for no apparent other reason than his own amusement?

Who was today…still a bit of a bastard, but one who let him know he wasn't alone in feeling out of place…

Who was also, as the alchemist newly learned, the spitting image of his Soulless companion.

Whatever Ais was searching for in Jin’s face, he must have found it, extending his injured hand.

“Go for it.”

Jin double-checked his bandages first, tightening the linen as a precaution. Once he was certain that there wasn’t a sliver of exposed grey skin, he scooted closer to Ais and gingerly took the other man’s hand in his own to inspect. Now that Jin was examining his hand up close and under better lighting, he could see the angry red bruises on his knuckles, the calluses covering his palms, observe bones that had fractured and healed over, time and time again. He tilted the hand over to look at the distinctively curved mark of the bite wound. It had fortunately closed — Ais did look the type to heal quickly — but if his…rigorous activities were a frequent occurrence, it wasn’t a generous assumption to expect the scab to reopen.

“It’s shallow, but I’d still rather not risk infection,” Jin explained. “And in case it reopens, it is best to minimize direct contact with other surfaces. That’s a bit difficult with the hand, since you use it more often, and often unthinkingly. I may have brought some extra—ah, here.”

The alchemist pulled a spare roll of clean linen out of his satchel, the bandages he’d collected from Kuras’s clinic, and got to work. As he spread a light layer of the salve on Ais’s hand, Jin fell into a more familiar rhythm.

Magic could wear on a caster, both mentally and physically — Jin knew that all too well, as a former apprentice of the study. Over the years, he’d become used to nursing Minerva’s wounds and his own whenever either of them pushed themselves too hard.

At one point, Princess had gotten up to walk a circle around the two of them, before eventually settling somewhere beside them both, her head nudging into Jin’s hip. Jin spared her a brief glance just to see if she was sleeping — she wasn’t, but she looked perfectly content and at peace — and it was difficult not to share that relaxed and easy sentiment.

How strange that, with the past few days being as daunting and uncertain as they were, it was the lonely red spring in the middle of the Wastes, a place that seemed made for unease — sharing tea with the Monster that guarded it, while a Soulless creature rested on his leg — where Jin found his moment of much-needed respite.

Ais had remained oddly quiet while Jin worked — he’d expected a teasing comment or two — but Jin found that he didn’t mind it. It didn’t feel unnerving or oppressive like the suffocating silence he was used to, always loaded and judgemental and accompanied by a disapproving glare. Watching and waiting for him to make another mistake.

“You’re good at that,” Ais remarked absentmindedly.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Jin replied, carefully winding the bandage around the Monster’s palm.

His hand was so warm, the warmth seeming to seep through the linens. Or perhaps that was just Jin’s own blood growing hotter the longer he lingered near Ais.

Ais hummed once as the alchemist finished tying the bandage. “Bit excessive, don’t you think?”

Jin quirked an eyebrow as he glanced back at him. “You wait until I’m finished to voice your protests?”

He could see the beginnings of that shit-eating grin form on Ais’s face — not quite there yet, but he was getting close — and frowned. Why was that the one expression Jin could easily read in the Monster — the one that ticked him off?

He let out a sigh and held out his palm for Ais’s other hand. Despite his remark, Ais gave it to him without complaint or pause. Jin briefly scanned the bruising on the knuckles — mostly red, some purple and blue. It would take a couple days for the bruises to shift to a recovering green and yellow…if he didn’t get into any more fights before then. As of now, there was probably still a dull ache. The salve would help with the inflammation, at least.

“I prefer to err on the side of caution,” Jin said, turning his hand for easier access to the bruises. “Having a physical barrier between an open wound and the rest of the world is an additional precaution. Besides, if you find that one layer of linen gives you too much trouble, you can always remove it. Or…”

His gaze darted back to Ais’s face briefly as he dipped his bandaged fingers into the pot.

“You can get used to this as well.”

Crimson eyes crinkled with what appeared to be approval. “Touché.”

Jin would never understand this man.

As he applied the salve to Ais’s knuckles, a question popped into Jin’s mind. Well, in fairness, the alchemist had many questions about everything — the Senobium, the Seaspring, the seemingly tamed Soulless — popping into his head but this one felt the least loaded and perhaps the simplest to answer, therefore the least rude to spring onto a host — er, patient? Whichever Ais was at the moment.

“Why ‘Sparrow?’”

“Hm?”

“You keep calling me that. ‘Sparrow,’ I mean.”

“I can stop if you don’t like it.”

“I—! I didn’t say that…”

Jin felt a prickle of irritation at the knowing smirk on the other man’s face. He knew that Ais knew that he didn’t mind — nevertheless, the bastard made him say it out loud because of course he would. Ais-hole…

“I was just…curious.”

Ais shrugged one shoulder. “Sparrows are cute.”

Jin choked on his gasp, coughing hard enough that Princess’s head lifted off his lap to stare at him in the closest to concern that Jin had ever seen on a Soulless creature. He felt Ais’s gaze on him but resolutely avoided the Monster’s eyes as heat flooded his face.

“Cute?” he echoed after catching his breath. Was that meant as a compliment or an insult? Did Ais find him cute? Did Jin even mind? Gods, he wouldn’t be able to hear that nickname without these questions swarming all his thoughts anymore.

“Mm,” Ais affirmed, sounding awfully amused as he — well, there wasn’t much use sugarcoating it — as he watched the alchemist suffer, the ass. “They also startle easily.”

“Startling? No, it was just…u-unexpected,” Jin said as he resumed applying the salve. “And I’ll remind you, most people would be startled by a pack of hostile Soulless suddenly backing them into a corner.”

“Ah, right — and they tend to have this habit of sneaking into places when the opportunity arises. Whether they’re supposed to be there or not.”

Now Jin lifted his gaze to meet Ais’s and yep, there was that shit-eating grin. Right on time.

“I called out for you!” As the Monster’s smile grew, so did the alchemist’s indignation. “And the door was unlocked, we— We’ve been over this!”

“So, ‘Sparrow,’” Ais continued, as if he didn’t hear Jin. The ass. “Seemed fitting.”

And Jin was aware that his cheeks had grown hot, he was just unable to ascertain whether it was from being flustered or annoyed. Both, he ultimately decided. Ais had an uncanny talent for eliciting these two particular feelings in him, simultaneously.

“You also called Mhin a dove. I think you secretly just really like birdwatching.”

The Monster let out a quiet snort. “You got me.”

“Cute, cowardly and an occasional trespasser to summarize,” the alchemist murmured, shaking his head. “Now I’m wondering if I should dislike the nickname after all.”

“Hm. So you do like it.”

Jin frowned at Princess, searching for a hint of sympathy in — at least one of — the Soulless creature’s several red eyes. Poor thing lived with the man, after all.

He didn’t find any. Princess only lifted her head and stared back expectantly as if waiting for something. Jin acquiesced — this particular Soulless was dangerous, only instead of the danger lying in her knife-sharp teeth and claws, it was in the way she made it impossible to deny her — and took a brief pause from his attention on Ais to scratch her under the chin. She rewarded him with a happy wag of her tail, smacking Ais in the face.

“Pfff—” And Jin couldn’t hold in his laugh at that, seeing the cool and nonchalant Monster’s face suddenly scrunch up in surprise. “Sorry, sorry…it’s just…”

Ais’s eyes narrowed into a playful glare and Jin dissolved into helpless giggles again, attempting, in vain, to muffle them with a bandaged hand. All he accomplished was getting some salve on his cheek.

“Right, um, sorry. I didn’t know that would happen, but with that being said…Good girl, Princess.”

The Soulless let out a pleased sound almost like a yip, tail wagging even harder. Jin wasn’t sure if she fully understood what she’d done, but she seemed to recognize his words as praise quite easily — and that was, perhaps, the result of a master who praised her often. Princess’s tail slapped Ais with each wag — and threatened to send Jin into another fit of laughter — but the Monster remained unfazed now that the initial surprise had worn off. He could make to move away, but he didn’t, keeping his hand extended in Jin’s grasp, waiting for the alchemist to finish his task.

Jin had initially interpreted the Monster’s nonchalant manner as apathy or arrogance, but that seemed inaccurate now, upon further observation. Ais simply had an abundance of tolerance and patience.

He finished with the application and placed the lid back on the jar.

“Alright, we should be done,” he said, releasing Ais’s hand. The loss of warmth as Ais drew his hand back was more immediate and apparent than he'd expected.

“You may continue using the salve as often as needed, but once a day is enough to speed the healing process. And — this should go without saying — it is generally not recommended to expose the hurt area to further trauma. So…try not to get into any more fights — at least, not any time soon.”

Ais remained silent but there was a knowing, mischievous gleam in his eyes that conveyed — quite straightforwardly — the approximate chances of him following that advice. Jin sighed.

“…Or you can just roundhouse kick your way to victory instead. That’d also cause less strain on the knuckles.”

“Not a bad idea — would’ve made last night an actual challenge,” Ais said — and Jin truly couldn’t tell whether he was being sincere.

He was probably only messing with him. Probably.

Ais was a fearsome gang leader of the Wastes, there was no way he would act so foolishly.

…Just in case, Jin made a mental note of all the herbs and ingredients he would need to make more of the healing salve — legs were a larger surface area, after all — and ignored the blatant implication that this wasn’t a one-time occurrence and he’d already made plans to visit the Monster again. Gods, what did that mean for them? Were they friends now?

“I, um,” he began, lacking adequate words to part with. “I should probably get going, not to waste the daylight. After all, I am still in search of that miracle cure.”

He took out a small handkerchief and wiped the salve from his bandages, then performed another check over the linen. Nothing had shifted out of place, but Jin still tightened their placement around his hands on habit.

Ais watched him through the whole process, expression becoming unreadable once again. “Good.”

Maybe one day, Jin would learn to recognize the Monster better — the way his face shifted between happiness, sadness, anger — the way he wore his emotions.

…

Jin had meant what he’d said upon his arrival.

He hadn’t come for the Seaspring.

“Thank you,” he said. “For the tea. Um, I suppose I now owe you a drink.”

Jin watched Ais’s sharp features soften as if he understood what that “thank you” actually meant.

“Thanks,” Ais replied as he traced over his bandaged hand. The corner of his lip turned up in humour. “For the excess.”

Jin scratched Princess under the chin, biting back his smile as her tail smacked right into Ais's grin.

The alchemist would pretend that his ensuing laugh, light and carefree, didn't follow him after the tea was gone.

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