Prickling pleasure went down Lam’s spine, settling between his legs. His free hand laid gently around the cut, and then stretched it open further to douse it with more antiseptic.
Conan’s whole body jolted,“Fucking, fuck that hurts.”
Lam held in his own groan, eyes roving Conan’s face to take in every detail of his pain. He looked fucking good suffering for Lam.
His cock was hard again.
“At least someone’s enjoying this,” Conan said when he opened his eyes and noticed. There was sweat on his hairline, fresh blood dribbling from the wound. Lam’s breath caught in his throat.
“You’re–you’re being very good,” Lam said approvingly. His voice sounded rougher even to his own ears. He let go of the wound and set the antiseptic on the counter. With gauze he mopped up the mess. “It’s not very deep though, so some stitches and you’ll be fine.”
“Lot of practice suturing?” Conan asked.
“I took a course, actually,” Lam said, pulling on a pair of sterile surgical gloves.
He retrieved the needle and forceps along with a packet of nylon. The needle and forceps got a sterilization and then Lam reached for another of the washcloths.
“Here, for your teeth.”
The man eyed him and then took it, shoving it into his mouth. Lam had only done suturing without pain managementon himself once, and it’d been tough to handle. Best not to add to Conan’s injuries just yet.
Lam made quick work of threading the needle retaking his spot between Conan’s legs.
“I’m starting now,” he warned. Conan grunted behind the towel.
To Conan’s credit, he held still for the entire procedure. The pain was obvious in the way his body was tensing, the sweat on his brow. When Lam looked, his fists were tightly coiled, the knuckles white.
Lam kept going, making neat stitches down the length of the cut. The most difficult part of it was Lam’s own distraction, the pulsing thrill every time Conan couldn’t help his sound of pain. It was better even than using his knife. Intimate to be here in his own bathroom, between this man’s legs as he sewed him up.
Intimate the way Conan had agreed to it, had forgone the lidocaine because he thought it wouldplease Lam.
This was definitely foreplay.
When Lam was finished with the stitches, he tied it off, snipped the nylon, and started to put everything away. He sterilized his tools first, returned them to the kit, and then grabbed a new pack of gauze to wipe off the fresh blood.
“Almost done,” Lam said, giving the whole area another dousing of the antiseptic. Conan made a loud, punched out sound into the rag.
Then Lam covered the whole area in bandage strips and wrapped it in gauze. He’d need the support and coverage for whatever came next.
At that point Conan spit the cloth out of his mouth. He was pale and shaky, and Lam had to hold himself back from wrenching his head up and kissing him.
But the lust must have broadcast loudly across his face.
“Enjoy that, did you?” Conan asked.
Lam licked his lips. “You were perfect.”
Conan’s eyes dropped closed a moment and he sucked in a breath. Like just Lam’s words were a balm for what he’d gone through.
“So… what now?” Conan asked.
Lam took a deep breath himself, trying to pull himself out of the magnetic spiral. They were going to get all that, but first…
“You wanted a shower, didn’t you?”
That got Conan’s interest. “You shower’s got room for two?”
A tempting offer, but Lam couldn’t. “I don’t think we're there yet,” Lam said. He unfolded a sheet of plastic from the first aid kit, “I’m going to tape some plastic, so you can shower,” He said, gesturing to the wound.
