danzan | inbox; deerington

Can't believe you're bleeding and you're still beating yourself up. [ There's a small growl there, but it's not angry-- just scolding, and Logan considers his makeshift needle and uses the blunt end to remove the small shards of metal still in Nathan's body. He's gentle, methodical-- nothing like a keen sense of smell to be able to find out which of the many tiny wounds needed his attention most. ]

This was one guy?

Edited 2018-11-25 05:42 (UTC)

Called himself Reaper. He stole my kill. Taunted me. So I pulled a gun on him. Stupid.

[He made very little sound as the buckshot was removed from his back. The most out of him was a grunt.]

[ "Stupid" is right. Logan genuinely pauses in his work just so he can lift his clean hand and gently bonk the heel of it into the back of Nathan's head. ]

You should'a punched him instead.

[ He dips his head to get a proper whiff once he's gotten the most offending metals out, then clicks his tongue. ] C'mon, Eastwood, let's get you washed. [ Spoken as Logan moves to undo the buttons of his own shirt... because Nathan's going to need someone to wash his back, right? ]

Yeah. [It's all he says--he knows who was wrong in this situation. The smack on the head just drives it home.]

[Punch the guy? So easy to say now.] I tried to. Bastard's too fast.

[Nate still has his cargos on. He ponders for a moment before thinking fuck it and shucking off his pants. He only has the one pair.]

I can wash myself, it's okay. [His idea of washing is to stand in the warm spray against his back until it gets cold. Take pity on the big fucking idiot.]

[ To be perfectly fair, Logan allows Nathan the chance to wash himself.

But it's... abysmal. And he's not going to get all the dirt out like that.

He says as much, ] You can be stubborn later. [ Off Logan's own trousers go, but he keeps the underwear on just for some modicum of modesty (even if the water means it clings to all the right places anyway). He moves to stand in the space just under the shower's arc, then brings soft hands forward to start scrubbing the dirt away gently. He'll do this before he picks up the soap, rubbing it onto his palms and sliding those over the wounds, too. ]

[Now, this is what hurts. Getting the dirt out of wounds, even ones like he had, could be painful business. Logan was being gentle. It could be worse.]

[After what feels like a week, Nate says something other than grunting and hissing through his teeth.]

Look, I'm sorry about this.

Quit beating yourself up. [ He's more or less cleaned the wounds, but with Nathan already under the spray... well, Logan goes to wash his hair, too. Strange how grime can get into everything. ]

We stick together, you know.

Figure you'd do the same for me.

[Very strange.]

[Logan's strong fingers against his scalp releases tension he didn't realize he'd had. He feels like he's melting against that touch. He rests his hands on the side of the shower, because he's not sure he'd be able to continue standing up otherwise.]

Yeah, I would.

[ The affirmation has a soft huff coming from his nose, lips tilting to one side just slightly. ] I thought so.

[ But Nathan's hair is rinsed too, grey locks no longer stained with the dirt of his fight. Logan notices, faintly amused, that the parts that should be shaved need a touch-up. ]

...shit. [ It's very soft. ] I don't have a towel.

[Nate grunts.] I don't have one either. I really should have grabbed one... [He'd had other things on his mind at the time. He gets up off the floor, grunting in pain this time, and rests his head against the wall.]

Thanks for the clean up. You have magical fingers.

Yeah, don't thank me yet. Still gotta wrap you up.

[ As far as towels go, though, Logan considers his still-dry suit shirt. Then he supposes making sure Nathan doesn't succumb to hypothermia is more important, and picks it up to start drying him off-- hair first, and then the rest of his body. The fabric soaks the water up, and Logan's very careful about dabbing the wounds at Nathan's back. ]

You're gonna hate me for sayin' this, but you should probably get some rest after.

I don't feel like doin' much, but there's a lot to be done.

[Nate bites his inner cheek, trying not to make more noise when those wounds are dabbed. Bad enough he's made as much as he has, mewling like a infant. It's been a long time since he was that young.]

We always need more firewood, and they're runnin' low on soap. I was gonna lend a hand.

[ He snorts. ] Okay, helpin' make soap won't be too bad. [ Once Nathan's back is dry, he slings the wet shirt over his own shoulders, then moves to grab the tank top he'd taken with him, blissfully still dry. With his teeth he tears some of the cotton; he'll have to see about getting some proper bandages, but for now he wraps what's become of his last white shirt around Nathan's torso. ]

I'm just sayin'... there's being helpful and there's pushin' yourself past your limit when you don't gotta.

We don't know how long this peacetime's gonna last. Should make the most of it to rest up before something shitty happens.

[ And in Deerington, something shitty always happens. ]

[Hey, wait a minute--] What're you gonna wear? It's still cold as hell out there.

[A long pause. Logan has a point, and who knew when this break would end. He had to be on top of his game next time Deerington shit itself. Other people would need the help.] Fuck it, I'll go sleep. It's not like there aren't a dozen kids around here who could do the same thing, right?

Mmhmm. [ The bandages are tied firm, but not too tight. Logan smoothens it out with his palm to be sure everything's even. ] Anyone can make soap. Takes a different brand of person to know how to aim a gun and shoot it.

[ About his clothes, though, Logan just shrugs. ] Mutant power keeps me warm. [ Though Logan himself feels cold like anyone else does, his body adjusts to temperatures on an intrinsic level to make sure he can survive anything; Nathan may have noticed Logan's hands might as well have been mini radiators. He pats one of them on the shirt on his shoulders. ] I can just wash this and dry it, too. 's not like anyone'll see the blood on all the black, anyway.

And I still have a jacket.

Your hands are like cats... warm like a furnace and equipped with claws.

[Nate turns around, face to face with Logan.]

I don't believe I thanked you. My hair was gettin' rank.

[He came a bit closer, enough so he could smell the other man. He wants to kiss Logan, but he feels self-conscious. They aren't in that time anymore, not in that warm, comfortable place where they giggled at stupid shit and curled around one another.]

[It didn't stop Nathan from hesitating instead of leaving, though.]

"Rank"... [ The slang gets a smile, but it's the proximity-- the shift in Nathan's stance, the way it lets Logan get a good whiff of him-- that turns his exhalation the mildest form of unsteady.

It hasn't been more than a handful of days since the mushrooms. Of course, Logan's assumed there's some unspoken agreement between them to never bring it up because of the nature of it, the vulnerability... but that doesn't change the fact that Nathan's scent is calming, and that a deep-seated, instinctive part of him just wants to lean into him again and curl up right here in the showers, safe. Okay.

The air between them swells... and then fades. For a moment, he thinks he understands the concept of being torn in two directions.

Logan brings a hand up, touching Nathan's chest and dipping his head with a small smile as he gives it a pat. The expression is almost shy. ] I promised I'd take care of you. [ Unspoken: I haven't forgotten that night. And it has nothing to do with the fact that it had only been a handful of days ago. ]

I meant it. [ His hand slips off as he looks back up, the corner of his mouth pulled into a small smile. ]

[Nate can feel the moment pass, and he offers his hand for a manly handshake. It was only that night, he gets it. He smiles, one corner of his mouth curling up, the skin around his eyes crinkling. It would be easy to stay here and let the breeze dry them off (or freeze them), staring at each other like idiots, until someone came a long and kicked them out of the shower stall. It would be easy, but they weren't easy people.]

I know. I said it as well, said it and meant it.

[Nate rests a hand on Logan's shoulder, and pulls him in for a hug.]

You're a good man.

[ The offer for a handshake is so... ridiculous in comparison that Logan snorts in amusement. But then Nathan's hand is on his shoulder and he's hugging him instead, and Logan finds himself weak to the humanity of it-- to the trust that comes with being vulnerable in someone's arms.

He sighs, almost embarrassed at himself. But ultimately it feels better to return the hug, to indulge in this kindness, than it is to pretend like he isn't affected.

Besides, Nathan's seen enough of him Logan knows lying is impossible. ]

I have good people to keep me in check. [ He's careful about Nathan's wounds, but he does press his face into his shoulder to take his scent in.

Gently, carefully-- ] I'm glad you're safe. [ His grip tightens a little bit. ]

We're both safe, for tonight. I can feel it.

[The hug ends, and Nate takes one step back from Logan, his hands on the other's shoulders.]

And now, I'm going to sleep. I feel like I'm going to fall over.

[ Chuckling at that, Logan nods. ] You better. [ Then he moves from Nathan's grip to bend and grab the man's clothes for him, handing them over. ] Just put somethin' on before y'give anyone any ideas.

[ Logan's going to have to peel his wet underwear off and put his trousers on without them, he realises. This is fine. ]

Oh. [Nathan was just going to walk out into the cold, naked. As he puts on his pants, then his socks and boots, he wonders if his injuries have gone to his head.]

You could give me ideas. [He says this without smiling, as if he's discussing the weather. Then his expression broke, and he had a wicked grin on his face.]

See you later.

[He ducks out of the stall, leaving Logan to his wet undies.]

inbox; deerington

shhhhh logan was just "home = campgrounds? ok"

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