are you still doing the touches writing thingy? if so can i request hand holding 33 with chainshipping?
33. bandaging the other's hand and not quite letting go
"You didn't actually have to punch that guy, you know."
Lawrence meets Adam's searching gaze with his own steadfast look, unwavering under the younger man's scrutiny. He only breaks when Adam dabs the cotton ball onto his split knuckles and the alcohol stings, the pain sharper than he'd expected. He hisses, and Adam grins sheepishly, pulling both his hands away.
"Sorry, Doc."
"No, no, it's alright. It needs to be disinfected, who knows what bacteria could have been in that man's mouth." He shudders, only half-joking. Adam laughs and dabs at Lawrence's bloody knuckles again, taking care not to press too hard this time. The sting is duller now, the worst seemingly over.
Or maybe it's that Lawrence's attention is more focused on the way Adam's tongue is poking out while he concentrates on cleaning up the dried blood that decorates Lawrence's hand.
"I mean, I know I'm awesome, but maybe you shouldn't be trying to emulate me, y'know I'm supposed to be the violent one, remember?" Always the chatterbox, always the jokester. Always the smartass, mouthing off and wearing that same smirk he's got on right now.
"I know I didn't have to," Lawrence murmurs, wrenching his eyes from Adam's mouth, feeling a peculiar stirring in his gut. "But he was so much bigger than you, and I-"
He falters. How to explain the rage that had boiled up so quickly upon seeing the stranger looming over Adam, how he had moved across the parking deck so quickly his leg was still sore from the effort. How his hand had moved before he'd realized it, balled into a fist and crashing into the stranger's face, the man's teeth cutting into his skin.
"I couldn't stand there and let you get hurt." Adam stops cold in the middle of opening a bandaid, for once seemingly at a loss for words. "Not if I could stop it."
"C'mon, Doc, I'm not- you don't owe me, man." He doesn't look up, continuing to put the little bandage on the open scrape of Lawrence's middle knuckle. "I mean, yeah, you shot me and I like to give you shit about it from time to time but like... You don't gotta make it up to me. You already did that when you got me out of the- that place."
Lawrence doesn't answer, the words he wants to say are... out of his grasp. All he can think about is how Adam's hands- both hands- are holding his own, cradling it gently while he inspects it for any further damage.
"I just think that... you've been hurt enough," he says, quietly, half-hoping Adam doesn't hear him. It's almost too honest, too close to admitting how much he's grown to care for the young man.
"And you haven't?" Adam demands, his grip tightening slightly. "Lawrence, if you hadn't broken his teeth, that dude would have beaten your ass!"
It's the first time since his rescue that Adam has used his actual name.
"I've been in fights before, Adam," he scoffs. "It may surprise you to know that I've even won a few in my time."
"Sure, old man, whatever you say," Adam rolls his eyes, then sighs, looking back down at Lawrence's hand, still clutched between his own. "Look. It's not that I don't appreciate that you've got my back, ok? But you can't go around stepping in every time I piss somebody off."
"You could try being less disrespectful to everyone who crosses your path," Lawrence says, dryly, and Adam looks back up at him, that smirk turning up the corners of his mouth.
"I think we both know how likely that is," he quips, and the smirk fades a little as he continues. "But I'm serious, don't go putting yourself in danger, not for me. I'm not the only one who- who needs you."
His fingers twitch and he grips Lawrence's hand a little bit tighter, though he avoids touching the doctor's bruised knuckles.
"I know," he replies, quietly, something clicking in his brain at Adam's words.
He knows now, why his hand flew on its own. He wants to say it, tell him that he put himself in harm's way because he needs Adam, too.
He wants to say it.
But he doesn't.
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