General RP Mafia Debt (RhysTheFirebird)

[Kasumi]

For the first time, Lee had begged his captor. Before, he would tease, Lee not once considering that begging. He gasped softly, focusing on Dimitri as their foreheads pressed together. He nodded, a quick little motion of his head, his gaze fully on the other, taking his words as an order, one he was more than happy to obey. It was completely unnerving, knowing his captor, Dimitri's assailant, was behind them, gun in hand. He shakily gripped onto Dimitri, putting some pressure on the wound on his neck, hoping something would help. He didn't care if his hand was soaked in blood; he just needed to save him.

Sniffling, he shook his head, feeling terrible with the reminder that his ring was gone as Dimitri gripped his fingers. It was something Lee had realized the night he was kidnapped, the familiar metal wrapped around his finger, gone, much like his phone. He had no idea if his captor had either item or if it was lost somewhere in the park. He held back a sob, comforted still by the other's words. "I'm sorry," he whispered, both for begging his captor and for losing such a precious item. He was Dimitri's. It didn't matter.

He... made it personal? Him? His gripped tightened on DImitri's hand, dying to know what the fuck was going through his captor's mind. He hung his head, uncomfortable with those words. Lee wasn't typical; he knew there wasn't something right about himself. He was different, his captor taking note of that, Lee fearing the other growing interested.

Lee let out a yelp of surprise, actually turning this time to witness Dimitri's men crashing through the room, weapons aimed at Lorenzo. The men quickly grabbed their assailant, taking him away, not before his captor had a few last words for Lee. Frowning, he looked back over to Dimitri, not liking how he was looking. The color was quickly draining from his face and he seemed much weaker. Without hesitating any further, he called out for someone to help, Lee silently praying to whatever deity existed that Dimitri would be fine. That they weren't too late.

Lee was willing to ignore his own health to focus on Dimitri's, his men deciding he needed to be checked out as well. He refused any care for himself, not realizing how poorly he was from neglect and abuse for the past few days; he was covered in cuts and bruises. He just wanted to be by Dimitri's side. Somehow, they convinced him to go, as long as he was with the man.

He wouldn't ever waste the things Dimitri did for him, Lorenzo's words haunting him.

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

Dimitri could barely hold himself upright now—slumped against Lee, each breath shallow and trembling. His vision was going in and out, shadows crawling in from the edges, but he clung to consciousness with everything he had. For Lee.

He felt those trembling hands on his neck, the pressure sharp and grounding. Lee's voice broke through the fog in his head, sniffling, whispering apologies, and Dimitri’s fingers twitched in response, weak but insistent, like he could still shield him even now.

His lips moved, dry and bloodied, before sound followed. “Don’t apologize,” he rasped, breath wheezing, his Russian accent heavier now in his pain. “You were brave, Lee. You stayed... alive. That’s all I needed.”

His forehead rested against Lee’s again, his words slurred, but filled with desperate clarity. “I would’ve burned the city to find you."H e coughed, blood speckling his lips, and still, he smirked faintly. “You’re mine, Lee. Ring or no ring, collar or no collar. He never had you. Not even for a second.”

The weight of his head dipped slightly, and panic stirred in the men moving in around them, voices urgent but distant. Dimitri’s hand weakly tugged at Lee’s shirt, grounding himself. His voice dropped lower, only for Lee to hear.

“You hear me? If I die…” He coughed again, but forced the words out, his eyes wide and clear for a moment as they locked on Lee. “If I die, you stay alive. You stay free. You don’t let anyone chain you again—not even me.”

But then—his expression softened, eyelids fluttering.

“…But I’m not dying yet, sweetheart. I still have to put my ring back where it belongs.”

And with that, he finally slumped fully into Lee’s arms; unconscious, but alive.

The medics rushed in, shouting orders in clipped Russian, prying Lee back gently as they worked. Blood soaked through the makeshift bandages. One of the men grabbed Lee by the arm, not harshly, but firmly. “We’re taking him. He’ll make it. But you—you need to come too.”

Lee fought them at first, of course. But in the end, they let him sit in the ambulance, his hand never leaving Dimitri’s.

He had saved him.
And Dimitri, even half-dead, had saved him right back.

 

[Kasumi]

Lee had gotten used to the accent by then, even now, Lee was fighting to hold back sobs to listen and understand his love. "They can't tear me away from you that easily," he whimpered, a quiet laugh breaking through. Burn the whole city down - just for him? Ah, that intensity... He loved it. How possessive. How he felt so wanted. He could feel Dimitri growing heavier in his arms, his eyes widening some as he clung tighter. "No, no. Don't..." He couldn't bear to hear such things. He didn't want to imagine it, even though it was happening right there in front of him. Dimitri might die.

In the thick of it, Lee didn't want to hear it. Though he would come to understand. Even after losing the other, he couldn't hold on forever. As much as it may pain him, he would have to move on.

He smiled sadly, "Is that a promise?" Soft, gentle teasing - words echoing those he spoke to Lorenzo - before the full weight of Dimitri pressed against him, the other out but thankfully not gone. Dimitri's chest rose and fell, his breath still hot as Lee cupped his cheek, holding him, looking at him.

He ignored those who rushed inside, swarming them. They attempted to pull Lee away so they could work on Dimitri, yet he resisted. He was worried, seeing how badly he was wounded, how the freshly applied bandages soaked right through with blood. He couldn't allow himself to part from Dimitri, to release his hold on his limp hand. He wanted to feel it squeezing his back. In a way, just the touch of Dimitri grounded him. For three damn days... He needed him.

"No, I-...! W-Why me?" He stuttered, surprised at the notion he needed to be checked over. Still, he resisted, shaking his head. He didn't understand it. He was fine! Nothing he hadn't dealt with before. Dimitri could be dying!

He refused to go anywhere but by Dimitri's side. Surprisingly, after a moment of fighting, they finally allowed him to stay by Dimitri's side. In the ambulance, sitting on the seat beside his love on the stretcher, fingers intertwined with the Russian's.

Still, even in the hospital, he didn't let anyone work on him until Dimitri was cared for first. Only upon the threat of sedation did he relax. Lee's wounds were tended to, and he was given an IV of fluids. The next moment he could, he was right by Dimitri's side, holding onto his hand, IV pole by his side. Like a wounded puppy, huh...

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

Hours had passed. The chaos of blood and bullets had long since been replaced with sterile white walls, the soft rhythm of beeping monitors, and the gentle hush of a hospital room blanketed in uneasy stillness.

Lee sat in a stiff chair pulled close to the bed, his fingers still wrapped tightly around Dimitri’s. Their hands lay atop the thin hospital blanket, warm against cold, tethering them together.

Dimitri hadn’t woken yet.

His wounds were severe.

The bullet to his side had torn through muscle, dangerously close to rupturing a kidney, but clean enough to avoid needing removal. The one to his shoulder, however, had fractured the clavicle, requiring emergency surgery to stabilize the damage. The worst was the shot near his neck—shallow, but close to major arteries. A millimeter more and. . .

No one let themselves finish the thought. Couldn’t. No one wanted to freak the clinging boy out more than he already was.

Now, Dimitri lay there with gauze thick around his upper chest and throat, a clear oxygen tube hooked under his nose, an IV line running from the crook of his arm. The bruising had already started to bloom beneath the bandages; dark, angry shades of violet and red that curled under the skin. His face was pale, sickly, like the color had been drained from him along with all that blood.

But he was alive.

Lee watched the slow rise and fall of his chest with a kind of reverent attention, each breath a gift he didn’t know he was worthy of. They had sedated Dimitri after surgery. Told Lee he’d wake when his body was ready. That it was a miracle he hadn’t bled out before reaching the hospital. That if it had been even ten minutes later...

Lee's own arm was wrapped in gauze from wrist to elbow, the slices stitched and cleaned. They’d found bruises all along his ribs, several possibly cracked, and he’d been dehydrated. A fresh saline drip hung beside him now, feeding into his vein.

Somewhere down the hall, a monitor beeped sharply, the sounds of other patients and nurses softly muffled. In here, though, the world was narrowed down to just them.

To Dimitri's hand gripped in Lee's

Still warm.

Still there.

~~~

It had been four days.

In that time, Dimitri had not stirred. The hospital staff came and went—changing IV bags, checking monitors, adjusting machines. Each shift change brought a new set of eyes that paused at the door, glancing from the unconscious man to the boy seated eternally beside him. They whispered. They speculated.

But Dimitri remained unmoved, trapped somewhere beyond their reach.

The room had dulled with time. Sunlight filtered through drawn blinds in a soft gray wash. The flowers someone had brought—his men, likely—had begun to wilt on the far windowsill. The sterile scent of antiseptic clung stubbornly to the air, mixing with the faint trace of blood and plastic tubing.

Then—just before dusk on the fourth evening—something shifted.

It began subtly. A twitch of his right index finger. A faint flutter beneath the bandage on his shoulder. A creased line between his brows, slow and drawn, as if something inside him had finally started to stir, heavy and reluctant.

The monitors didn’t scream. No sudden spikes or crashes. Only a slight increase in heart rate—a soft blip blip blip climbing just above baseline.

Then—finally—his eyes cracked open.

Not fully. Just a sliver. Enough to wince at the dim light, pupils slow to adjust. His lips parted slightly, throat working around the dryness, the stiffness. Everything ached. There was pain—dull and deep—pooling in his chest, down his side. His shoulder throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and his neck felt like it had been torn open and stitched back together with fire.

Dimitri's breath rasped out—hoarse and uneven.

He tried to speak. Failed. Tried again.

"...Water."

His voice was a whisper of sand and smoke, barely audible.

But he was awake.

His eyes—murky with sedation and days of sleep—shifted slowly. Instinctively, he sought out something, someone, and after a breathless second, they landed on the figure still beside him.

Unmoving.

He blinked again, confused. Was that...?

“...Lee?”

The name broke from him with effort, dry and barely formed, but it was real.

He was real.

Dimitri was alive. And awake.

 

[Kasumi]

Lee quietly sat in the uncomfortable chair. Nurses came over and offered him food; members of their own would come out and offer the same, but he refused every time. Nothing mattered in that moment. He wanted to see Dimitri awaken. He had to. Nothing could take the other from him. Not when he wanted him back so badly. Even when he leaned over, resting his head on his arm on the bed, the familiar pain of broken ribs was nothing compared to what Dimitri had gone through. The painkillers didn't give him the familiar, comfortable high; they only dulled the pain.

Nothing existed besides them. It was only him and Dimitri, his beloved owner... He could feel a sob bubbling up, but nothing came out. He felt... numb.

~~~

Lee spent the next four days in the same spot, waiting for Dimitri to awaken. Each day, he had hope that Dimitri would open his eyes and greet him warmly as he always had. He wasn't sure what he would have called what he had fallen into- a depression? He hadn't moved; he refused to eat. All the nurses could do was change his bag, giving him some nutrients, vitamins mostly. He only accepted water.

He hated hospitals. From the sudden but expected death of his mother... to Dimitri. He couldn't lose another love. Being with Dimitri was so different, but it was somewhere Lee felt he belonged. He loved being Dimitri's.

Lee had been avoiding sleeping, not wanting to miss his Russian waking. Eventually, exhaustion would take hold, and he would pass out. His head resting on his arm, his hand still intertwined with Dimitri's, his mind filled with sweet moments with his love.

Not a soul could wake him as his body desperately needed to rest; his healing slowed because he wasn't getting any rest.

Only... The faint twitch of a finger slowly began to stir Lee, almost just missing the hoarse request for water. Hearing the other speak his name seemed to tear him out of his sleep. "Huh... Wha... D-Dimitri?" He blinked, slowly waking, becoming alert much quicker as the realization set in. "Dimitri...! W-Water?" He repeated quickly, fully sitting up and looking around. He spotted a pitcher of water and cups on the rolling table beside Dimitri's bed. With enough tubing from his IV, he shakily stood to his feet, feeling weak but determined to get the other water.

His movements were slowed, weak, but he managed to pour a cup, ice still floating around the pitcher. He came back over to Dimitri, oh so carefully helping him drink.

He was so relieved, so happy to see him awake and very much alive. "How are you feeling?" He asked, ready to get him a nurse.

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

Dimitri’s lips touched the rim of the cup, guided gently by Lee’s shaking hands. The water was cold—shockingly so—and it flooded his parched throat like rain hitting scorched earth. He drank slowly, small sips at first, his dry tongue grateful for the relief. The simple act exhausted him more than he cared to admit. By the time Lee pulled the cup away, his breathing had deepened again, heavier than it had been moments before.

His head lolled slightly to the side, eyes fluttering open once more to truly take in the boy beside him. Lee looked worse than he remembered—hollowed out, bruised, IV still taped to his arm. The faint sheen of exhaustion clung to his skin, and the way he trembled standing there—Dimitri knew.

“You look like hell,” Dimitri rasped, voice rough and edged in affection, even if cracked by weakness. His lips twitched into a faint smirk. “My hell. Still mine.”

The words were barely above a whisper, but they carried weight—personal, possessive, and so achingly fond. His hand twitched in Lee’s, his fingers curling ever so slightly around the smaller ones, the gesture feeble but intentional.

He paused, letting his eyes drift closed again for a second. Breathing in deep, like it took every ounce of strength he had.

“How am I feeling?” he echoed, tone dry with faint sarcasm. “Like someone shot me three times and left me to rot in some rat's den apartment...”

A strained breath left him—part exhale, part bitter chuckle.

“…But I woke up. You’re still here.” His grip tightened a little more. “So... not the worst day.”

His eyes opened again, slower this time, but steadier. He scanned Lee's face, drinking in every bruise, every sign of neglect, and his gaze darkened faintly with guilt and protectiveness. “You didn’t sleep,” he murmured knowingly, his voice gentler now. “Or eat. Idiot.”

But there was no bite to the insult. Only warmth.

“I should’ve come sooner,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Dimitri rarely said it. He hardly ever needed to. But this time, it came with weight. With regret. And with an unspoken promise in his eyes:

No one would ever take Lee from him again.

 

[Kasumi]

Lee certainly had looked better. He didn't appear well, hell, he even looked thinner than before. But he didn't care. He could only laugh and shake off any worry for himself. "It's fine. I'm fine." He was ready to pass out after a good meal, but wouldn't say it. He could only relax after knowing Dimitri was fine.

He smiled warmly, settling back down on the chair. He would have loved to join Dimitri in bed, but he was far too hurt to move. He didn't want to disturb his poor love. He shook his head, "I wouldn't leave." He couldn't. He watched the other, quietly studying every breath, ensuring he wouldn't suddenly get worse. He appeared stable, but what did he know?

He shook his head once more, not bothering to repeat himself. He couldn't tear himself from Dimitri's side. He refused. He had to laugh at the little jab. "I was too worried." How could he eat knowing Dimitri was so poorly? He would feel guilty caring for himself.

"I'm just thrilled you did. I would have been fine. I could have taken more." Could he really have? Did he believe himself to be stronger than he actually was? Or just too damn stupid, putting himself at such risk. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have been out. I don't wander anymore." So why the hell did he? He had been worried for Dimitri, but this was so much worse. He didn't care how he was. He just wanted Dimitri to be fine.

Placing his other hand to hold onto Dimitri's, his head hung, "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have gone out. Don't tell me I'm wrong. You wouldn't be in this state if it wasn't for..." For him, but he couldn't finish, his voice breaking. What was the point?

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

Dimitri watched Lee closely, every word he spoke pulling at something raw beneath his chest, beneath the bandages and bruises and half-healed wounds. His gaze was heavy-lidded, the haze of painkillers and blood loss still clinging to him like a fog, but Lee… Lee cleared it. Always did.

“Stop,” he murmured, the word soft but firm as steel. His fingers, despite their weakness, curled tighter around Lee’s hand—an anchor if he had one. “Don’t do that.”

His eyes didn’t leave Lee’s face. Not once. Even when it hurt to keep them open, even when his body begged him to rest again. “Don’t blame yourself for the bullet in my chest. For the bastard who took you. For my delay. You didn’t put me here.”

He paused, drawing a breath deep enough that his ribs ached for it. His voice lowered, quieter—wounded, not in body, but in the soul. “But I almost lost you. That... That was the part I couldn’t bear.”

His thumb traced over Lee’s knuckles in a slow, grounding motion. “So don’t apologize. Not to me. You’re not the one who failed.”

A beat passed. He looked over Lee again—thin, pale, trembling despite the brave front. “You’re not fine, sprite,” he added quietly, Russian slipping in soft and warm. “You’re falling apart in front of me, and all you care about is me.”

His head rested deeper into the pillow, his voice thick with exhaustion but laced in truth. “If I could walk, I’d drag you to the cafeteria and not let you go until you've eaten.”

The ghost of a smile touched his lips—sad, faint, but real.

“We don’t get to fall apart alone anymore. You hear me?” he whispered, eyes closing now, but his grip never loosening. “We crawl through it. Together. Even if it kills us.”

 

[Kasumi]

Lee sighed softly, thankful for the order forcing him to stop. He would have kept going and delved into some self loathing pit. He needed Dimitri more than he realized. Looking up, eyes wet, he frowned, noting how Dimitri seemed to struggle just to breathe. "I don't want you beating yourself up." Despite being fully aware of the risks of being with Dimitri... No. He didn't want to place blame anywhere. Only on himself, for making himself a target, a source of torment for Dimitri...

He focused back on Dimitri, the other worried for him. He couldn't lie, not when he quite obviously didn't look fine. There was no hiding the exhaustion, and the other could figure he hadn't eaten, hadn't left his side for more than a minute, if that.

Lee's thumb gently brushed over Dimitri's, amused by the mental image, knowing the other damn well would force him to sit and eat. "I'll eat. As long as you promise not to die on me." He tried to gently tease. He wasn't comfortable with the idea of leaving Dimitri alone, out of his sight. He was scared something could happen to him. Well, they could always get food brought up...!

Alone, huh? He let out a little huff, a small laugh. "Yes, Sir~." Gladly. As long as he was with his owner, Dimitri. He wanted to let the other sleep, his own exhaustion taking hold. Knowing Dimitri was awake and fine, he was willing to relax some. It just wasn't enough to leave him alone.

Eventually, a nurse came around. Lee didn't know how long it had been, but she once more offered him a meal. Finding out Dimitri was awake, she had a doctor come by to check on him, to find out if he was able to eat, too, before bringing them something.

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

Dimitri let out the faintest chuckle at Lee’s teasing, though it came with a hiss of pain from deep in his chest. Still, the sound was real: weak, worn, but alive. And that was enough. “I don’t plan on dying,” he murmured, voice low and frayed but steady. “I’m far too stubborn for that.”


He tilted his head slightly toward Lee, eyes narrowing affectionately. “Besides, if I died now, you’d stop eating entirely, wouldn’t you? Waste away until you haunt my grave out of spite.” His smile grew, lopsided and tired, but it softened the sharp edge of his words. “So no, I can’t have that.” He let their joined hands rest between them again, thumb brushing against Lee’s like a silent promise. “You’ll eat. I’ll eat. And when they finally let me out of this bed, we’ll go home.”


Dimitri’s gaze lingered on Lee’s face, studying every bruise, every shadow under his eyes—evidence of sleepless nights and the toll taken on someone who never should’ve had to bear it. “We both look like hell, then,” he said softly, no malice in it, only concern. “But you stayed. I remember your voice, even when I couldn’t open my eyes. Felt your hand. Heard you breathing.”


The mention of the nurse barely registered until the door creaked open, and Dimitri turned his head just slightly toward the sound. He didn’t pull his hand away from Lee’s—not even for a second.


When the doctor entered, clipboard in hand, Dimitri’s voice was already rasping dryly: “If you tell him he needs to rest or eat before I do, you’ll lose that clipboard to a window.” It was half a threat, half a joke. And all love. Because even bleeding, broken, and bruised—Dimitri was still Dimitri. And his eyes, despite everything, only ever looked at Lee.

 

[Kasumi]

"We're too alike," he jested. Just like Dimitri, he didn't plan on getting himself killed anytime soon. Of course, he never intended to get kidnapped. And the last time... and that fight he got into at Kas's bar with that stupid brute. Damn it. Dimitri had been there every time to save him. He wouldn't go down so easily. He made a promise to himself - for Dimitri. He would survive for this beautiful soul that took him in.

"Ah..." It wasn't exactly a plan to stop eating. He didn't have an appetite and... damn. Yeah. He couldn't hide the laugh that escaped. "You know me too well. I'm sorry, but you're never getting rid of me. Even in the afterlife." He would still be by his side. A warm, soft smile graced his lips as he relaxed, comforted by his touches. "I'd love that." He then caught the other studying him, his features sullen by exhaustion and his assault. He could feel his cheeks heating up, a soft red hue. He wanted to look away, to hide his face, though his words made him laugh. "That we do." He agreed with a nod, pausing slightly as his words sank in. Oh... It warmed his heart. Lee felt his attachment growing.

He didn't want to tear his eyes off of Dimitri, though he did, facing the nurse as they entered. A doctor quickly followed, Lee no longer anxious by their presence. He knew Dimitri was fine. He survived this and would go home soon, only when he was ready. He didn't need the man returning so quickly.

"Ah! Hey~ I mean... you're not wrong." Another laugh, a wide smile; Lee looked better already.

~~~

It had been two weeks- or more. Lee couldn't tell; all the days had blended together. But he was done staying there. It only took a nurse once to suggest he could leave before they knew not to mention such a thing again. He would never leave Dimitri's side. Knowing he was doing better as time went on, he allowed himself to visit the cafeteria or the gift shop; Lee surprised Dimitri with a present or two. Yet, he was quickly back up to his room.

Lee was more than thankful for Dimitri to be discharged; perhaps the man himself had grown tired of being there. Whatever the case, Lee kept close. With enough rest and food in him, he was doing a lot better, save for the broken ribs. It wasn't anything he hadn't dealt with before, the painkillers certainly helping. After scoring an extra bottle, he would be just fine~. He wouldn't say where he got it from.

Lee helped Dimitri every step of the way, from the car to the estate, letting the man lean on him if he needed to. He could take the pain.

It felt incredible to be back home! "Can I get you anything?" Lee would ask, wanting Dimitri to be comfortable.

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

It felt longer than two weeks, Dimitri couldn't tell if that was because of the pain, the drugs, or the mind-numbing quiet of the hospital room. The scent of antiseptic still lingered in his nose, clinging to his skin, his clothes, his very bones. The bruises had faded to sickly yellows and greens, but the wounds—those deeper ones, the ones stitched and bandaged with sterile care—still throbbed, a dull, constant reminder of just how close he had come to death.

The bullet wound near his heart made every movement feel precarious, like his body was one wrong twitch from falling apart again. His shoulder was stiffer than it should be. He hated the weight of the sling. The wound on his neck—thankfully shallow—still ached when he swallowed or turned his head too fast. It was like being stitched back together with rusted wire.

And yet… he was alive.

The sun outside the hospital was too bright, and the sounds too sharp. A car honking. A dog barking. Someone shouting a name across the street. It all made his head throb, but it was better than the beeping of machines and the muffled footsteps of nurses checking vitals every few hours.

Lee was beside him, of course. Never more than a few feet away, always hovering. Watching. Protecting.

He looked a little better; still paler than normal, like he had been bleeding his soul dry just to keep vigil. Dimitri hated it. Hated that Lee had suffered like that for him. But at the same time… he needed it. Needed to know that someone had waited. That someone had wanted him back that badly.

The car ride home was quiet. Dimitri leaned against the window, the glass cool against his temple. His body trembled faintly with exhaustion, his breath shallow. Each bump in the road sent pain through his ribs and into his spine, but he didn’t complain. Didn’t speak.

He watched the world pass by outside the tinted glass—buildings, people, trees blurring past like a life that had gone on without him. The city hadn't paused while he was unconscious. It had kept moving. It always did. He supposed it was a good thing Nadia knew how to run everything without him, so no one would think that his business was falling apart.

When they arrived, he didn’t step into the house so much as drift through it. His home. Still standing. The air smelled familiar—clean linen and cedarwood, hints of Lee’s scent, and something faintly metallic beneath it all. Blood, maybe. Or guns.

Dimitri sat down slowly on the edge of the bed. They’d changed the sheets. Someone had cleaned. His body protested, screaming in aches, but he welcomed the pain. It told him he was still here. Still human.

Dimitri let himself lean back, careful not to pull his stitches. His eyelids felt heavy.
He was home.
But everything still hurt.
And healing would take more than time.

"Mmm. . . Water and then snuggles, little Sprite." He glances at Lee.

 

[Kasumi]

Lee, for once, didn't worry that he was being annoying, hovering so closely. He had a purpose, caring for his owner, and he was determined to make him as comfortable as possible. He would split his newly obtained stash of painkillers if it meant the man was happy and content!

He hadn't taken note of how clean things were, how the sheets were changed, how in order everything appeared. His full focus was on Dimitri and getting him into bed. He watched him lean back, looking for any signs of discomfort if he ended up pulling something. Things had gone quiet, and Lee finally let himself relax. Dimitri was in his own bed, finally, resting peacefully.

Lee carefully pulled Dimitri's shoes off and set them aside before lifting a leg to guide him into bed. He would be far more comfortable if he were lying in bed properly. It hurt, lifting the heavier and larger Dimitri. He had given up after getting both legs atop the bed. He was sure the other would awaken at some point and adjust. With a yawn, a reminder that he was still quite fatigued, he carefully and quietly climbed into the bed on the other side. With more room on his much larger bed, he was able to curl up beside the other without hurting him.

Being home in Dimitri's bed, Lee had quickly fallen asleep, comforted by the other's presence. He would worry about a shower later.

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

A few hours passed. The sunlight had shifted in lazy slants across the room, soft and warm through the windows—too gentle for the cruel world they’d just crawled through. It was that soft change in lighting, that and the unfamiliar stillness, that tugged Dimitri back from sleep.

He blinked open his eyes slowly. The ceiling above him was his own—ornate trim, ivory molding, the faintest shadow of the chandelier swaying slightly from a breeze. Home. Again, truly. Not some drugged illusion, not a dream.

His body ached, heavy and stiff. Bandages tugged faintly over his chest with each breath. But it wasn’t pain that kept him awake this time. It was peace.

And Lee.

He turned his head—slowly, carefully. It took effort, every movement deliberate. But his eyes found what they were looking for: a mess of pale hair tucked against the crook of his arm. Lee lay curled beside him, body angled protectively toward him, like even in sleep he needed to shield Dimitri from something.

There was no tension in his brow now, none of the panic that had carved itself into his face over the past two weeks. His features had softened in slumber, lashes brushing high cheeks, lips parted ever so slightly as he breathed.

Dimitri watched him quietly.

He looked… small. Smaller than he remembered. The bruises stood out in stark contrast to his skin—some yellowing, some fresh. And thinner too. There were sharp edges in places that used to be soft.

Guilt curled slowly in Dimitri’s chest. It wasn’t loud, but it was there. Persistent.

Lee had stayed. At the hospital. In the ambulance. At his side through everything. He hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept. He could tell. The boy’s stubbornness was unparalleled. His loyalty—utterly unshakeable.

Dimitri’s fingers twitched beside Lee, the faint desire to brush hair from his face rising. He didn’t. He let the moment breathe, selfishly watching the boy rest. The weight of his presence beside him offered more relief than the hours of sleep had.

Safe. For now.

Dimitri let his eyes close again, his hand inching close until the backs of their fingers brushed. That was enough. He didn’t need anything else. Not right now.

Not when his world was sleeping peacefully beside him.

 

[Kasumi]

Minutes after Dimitri awakened, Lee stirred, quietly waking. Dark eyes fluttered open to greet the figure beside him, still in his bedroom. A smile found its way to his lips, the younger male realizing just how lucky he was. No, how lucky they both were. Things could have turned out much, much worse. Something was allowing them to be together still, and Lee had to take advantage of that miracle. His mood was better, not being stuck in the hospital. He could have left at any time, but he refused to part from the other.

He stretched, wincing at the uncomfortable tug to his ribs. "Mn... Master~." Ahh, that felt so good to say. He was curious about the other's reaction, how he would take the rarely used title, one Lee found he loved, testing the waters. "You're looking better." He went to sit up, shuddering gently at the discomfort. He ran his hand through his raven hair, smoothing it out of his face, his fringe still falling over his eyes.

He studied the other, looking for any bleeding, anything alarming that he would need to get help for. So far, he seemed fine. "Get enough sleep~?"