Work Text:
She usually began with the oldest scars. Dongbaek’s lips brushed over the pale ridge that ran beneath Yi Sang’s collarbone, where his flesh had once been split cleanly open and stitched shut without any care. The scar was thin now, barely visible, but she remembered when it had been fresh, so, so red that it soaked through his robes, yet he still refused to fall.
The Salsu never falls, we could say.
He stood straight even now, despite the fresh wound pulling at his side. The cut there was deep and precise as well, very recent, it had been cleaned but not properly tended yet. A strip of cloth was wound tight around his waist, already darkening again.
Dongbaek’s remaining eye traced every mark on his now uncovered body. The Salsu was always brutal on the field. Rather detached, yet efficient in his line of work. Some were visibly uncomfortable and uneasy in his presence, which was no wonder; who would feel at ease near a man who always claimed too many bodies than necessary?
“Dongbaek…” he said, with a low voice, yet she ignored it.
Her fingers slid up his chest, careful not to press too hard where the bruising had begun to bloom. A dark violet stain spread across his sternum, the shape of a boot heel embedded in the flesh. Higher, near his shoulder, a crescent cut from a freshly sharpened blade. She leaned in and kissed that one too, reverently. She felt his scarred hand coming up, delicately cupping her face with his palm, his finger brushing the eyepatch she wore.
The empty side of her vision ached faintly when he pressed too hard, a slight pain blooming behind the fabric that already became a part of her. She had lost her eye in a brawl years ago, not a memory she liked coming back to. She still remembered the warm rush down her cheek, the way the world had narrowed into red and darkness…
Her head moved up and she pressed her lips to a newer injury, just below his throat, where a blade had grazed him close enough to taste his pulse. The skin there was tender, swollen. Yi Sang’s breath hitched imperceptibly. Dangerous territory.
He allowed no one else this proximity. Everyone else kept their distance, but Dongbaek always crossed this line without any fear. What was there to fear, anyways? She had long ago learned that beneath the cold demeanor there was still something far more gentle and fragile.
“You are such a reckless idiot” she murmured against his skin.
He huffed softly, only pretending to be unimpressed by her boldness. Her hands slid around his waist, careful of the bandage, and she rested her forehead against his neck. Yi Sang's hand, blood-crusted at the knuckles, comes to rest against the back of her head.
“It is merely flesh.”
The usual.
“You infuriate me,” she breathed against his skin. The man had no time to answer, his grip only tightened slightly when she bit his neck. She could feel his pulse jump beneath her mouth. Her teeth dragged slowly along the column of his throat, passing a shallow cut he had neglected and never cleaned properly. Her tongue traced it without hesitation. She pressed her body against him, fitting herself into the space between him and the wall. After moving slightly higher, she lingered at the corner of his mouth for half a second, close enough that her exhale warmed his lips.
Yi Sang’s head tilted down, eyes half-lidded, watching her from beneath his dark lashes. This was enough for Dongbaek to take a step closer and finally kiss him. Her mouth crashed against his, teeth catching his lower lip, her grip tightening. Yi Sang stiffened for a moment at the force of the kiss, his back constantly pressing harder into the wall, but he did not pull away, kissing her back.
The frustration within her grew even bigger with every passing second. She had torn open parts of herself for him. The rusted hinges of her own guarded heart creaked with every step she took closer to him, yet he still remained locked behind the same polished glass. She could kiss him until her lips bruised, bite him until he bled, but she could never quite reach the place where he kept himself hidden. She had opened herself to him piece by piece, so why couldn’t he try to do the same for her?
Dongbaek then suddenly froze. The kiss faltered not because she wanted it to, but because her fingertips pressed harder by instinct, and the stickiness between her fingers confirmed what she already knew was happening. Her grip loosened and she pulled back just enough to look down, at the soaked fabric carelessly covering the wound.
“…”
Yes… the wound. They really need to take care of the wound first.