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As soon as he had received the message, he was out the door, down the steps and waiting on their, admittedly excessively grand and lengthy, driveway. Waiting for the cars to appear was hell. Thanks to his very totally, completely competent brother, the information he had about the situation was, limited, to say the least.
In full, the message read ‘Involved in a small incident, Mok is injured, heading back quickly.’ What the fuck was he supposed to do with that?! Mok was injured? That could mean anything from, he tripped and got a bruise to he was currently bleeding out from a stab wound in his chest. The more he thought about it, the more he felt his mind begin to race and his breath begin to quicken. Panicking like this wasn’t going to help anyone, but he also couldn’t prevent the fear spreading through his brain at the image of Mok, unconscious and covered in blood, being carried out of a sleek black car.
A wave of nausea flooded his body as a car rounded the corner and pulled up just in front of him. Rome could feel his vision spinning slightly and tried to control his breathing as best he could although a part of him felt like, quite frankly, this was a pretty reasonable reaction to this whole situation.
Thee stepped out of the car first, his hair was dishevelled and even that stupid strand he always insisted on having was lost in the mess of his fringe that had fallen in his face. Then Rome saw Thee’s hands. They were slick with an unmistakable crimson that had stained the cuffs of his previously crisply ironed, white shirt. Rome felt like his sanity was unravelling and his stomach was twisting in knots until he felt a firm grip on his shoulder. He looked up to see his brother’s face, his expression was calm and confident, Rome wasn’t sure if it was genuine or if it was just to try to reassure him, either was it was mildly comforting.
‘It’s ok, most of this blood isn’t his.’
Oh, great, well he felt just fine now, obviously…
Despite this creating far more questions than answers, he tried to push those to the back of his mind for now, he could worry about them later.
The far door of the car opened slowly and Mok emerged. Before he could take a single step, both brothers had rushed to his side to support him.
Mok was clutching his side and Rome could see that blood was blossoming from somewhere beneath his hand as it soaked through his shirt in an alarming manner. Besides that, Rome couldn’t identify any other major injuries, just some scratches and bruising along his arms.
Cautiously, Rome took Mok’s arm and wrapped it around his shoulders to more effectively help him as they walked toward the house. Mok winced slightly with each movement, but Rome got the impression that he was working very hard to cover up how much pain it was actually causing him.
Once they stepped across the threshold, two men wearing identical suits and black earpieces ran towards them and started to take Mok from his arms.
‘Stop!’ The words came out louder than he had intended but it did make the men pause, ‘Stop, I’ll take care of him. Just bring me things to clean and bandage the wound, please.’
Confused glances were passed back and forth between the men before they gradually backed away and left the room.
‘You sure you’re ok handling it?’ Thee’s words were steady regardless of the clear undercurrent of concern.
Rome replied with a firm nod which seemed to be enough to reassure Thee as he walked off in response with what Rome was sure was a slight smile plastered across his face. Surprised by the lack of indignant pushback from Mok, he turned to look at him. Blood was now dripping steadily onto the perfectly polished floor with a gentle tap, tap, tap.
‘Hey, are you ok to walk up the stairs?’ Rome fought to mask the shaking in his voice as Mok looked up at him, his face pale and eyes glazed and unfocused. Rome could feel a chill running up his spine as he looked at him. A man who was always so strong, competent and professional to a fault, much to the dismay on Rome at times, had been reduced to such a weak, vulnerable creature so easily. Rome wasn’t one to spend a lot of time dwelling on morbid topics, but in moments like this he couldn’t help but consider how fragile humans really are.
‘Mhm.’ His voice was faint but confident and while it did little to bring any kind of comfort to Rome, it did drag him out of his own mind and back to the situation at hand. Allowing Mok to lean his weight on him, the two walked up towards Rome’s room, taking extra care as they ascended the stairs, Rome watching his movements intently for signs that his condition was worsening.
When they got to Rome’s room, he guided Mok to sit on the edge of his bed, making the decision that having blood stains on his white bedsheets was a small sacrifice for Mok’s comfort. Already laid out on the bedside table was a selection of bandages and plasters, a small bowl of what Rome assumed must be warm water and a bottle of anti-bacterial ointment.
He paused for a moment, allowing Mok to reposition himself into what Rome assumed must be a less painful position, and then knelt down just in front of him.
‘I’m going to take your shirt off so I can clean your wound, ok?’
He held eye contact with Mok as he reached up to undo the first button of his shirt, making sure that Mok wasn’t distressed by his actions in any way. Carefully he undid the other buttons using all of his will power to stay focused whenever his hand brushed against the pale skin of the man before him. He pulled the shirt that was very stained with dirt and blood over Mok’s distractingly broad shoulders, ok, so maybe he was failing with the whole ‘staying focused’ thing, but really who could blame him.
Once he had removed it, he placed the shirt off to the side and turned his attention to the wound on Mok’s side. It wasn’t as deep as Rome had first feared and it seemed like it had mostly stopped bleeding by now. He dipped a cloth in the bowl and then as cautiously as he could, pressed it to the gash. A sharp, sudden inhale cause him to look up, Mok’s face was contorted into a grimace and he reflexively doubled over.
Throwing any semblance of dignity or composure to the wind he placed his hand on Mok’s neck, stroking his thumb across his jawline in some kind of feeble attempt to alleviate some of his discomfort.
‘Fuck, sorry, I’ll try to be more careful.’
Mok appeared to be frozen for as second before leaning slightly into Rome’s touch, his eyes softening.
‘Thank you.’
Rome hurriedly returned to cleaning the injury all too aware of the heat he could feel spreading from his neck up to his ears. After he was finished cleaning it as best he could, he placed the bowl and cloth back on the side and instead grabbed the bottle of ointment. With a cotton bud, he dabbed the ointment along the edges of the wound noting the way the skin seemed to have been torn and left jagged and uneven. This continued in silence for a few minutes as Rome hesitantly bandaged his wound, save for an occasional wince from Mok.
Rome couldn’t help but feel a slight amount of pride at his work and he spent a second revelling in the way he was able to protect Mok. He had been able to see one of his most vulnerable moments and help pull him out of it, even if it was only a little bit.
‘Here, take these, I’m going to find you a clean shirt.’ He handed Mok a glass of water and some pain killers before walking over to his closet.
Standing at the entrance of the closet, he glanced around at the potential options. He landed on a blue plaid, button-up pyjama shirt, he figured that it would easier for Mok to put on than anything that he would need to pull over his head.
Shirt in hand, he returned to Mok who had now readjusted himself, so he was propped up on the bed by Rome’s pillows. Rome couldn’t help but notice how peaceful Mok seemed, something that he very rarely associated with him, but did wonders for quieting some of the voices that had been berating his every action up to this point. What if Mok didn’t want him to be there? What if he was making it worse? What if he hurt him more?
He rounded the bed so he was stood next to Mok again and handed him the shirt. Mok took it, tentatively pulled it on and buttoned it up, leaving the top two undone so that his collarbones were still visible, which Rome stared at for longer than he would like to admit before tearing his eyes away to meet Mok’s.
‘How are you feeling now?’ Rome’s tone was soft as he sat on the edge of the bed, maintaining eye contact with Mok the whole time.
‘Better.’ Rome’s observation of Mok aligned with this statement, the colour had returned to his face now and he seemed a lot more alert.
‘How did you end up with an injury like this?’
Mok shifted somewhat and turned away from Rome staring at some unidentifiable point on the far wall.
‘I got shot.’
‘Well, no shit, I figured that much out!’ His voice was loud and sharp and he felt a pang of guilt seeing the way Mok flinched at his words.
‘I’m sorry.’ All Mok said was those two words, but they were fragile and unguarded. They wormed their way straight into Rome’s mind and tugged at every fear he buried deep within.
‘You don’t need to apologise, I was just so worried about you.’ He grabbed Mok’s hands, clutching them as if it was the last thing in the world that could keep him grounded as tears began to roll down his cheeks.
‘You got hurt and I wasn’t there and I couldn’t stop it.’ He muttered, his words wobbling as he tried to convert his overwhelm into a coherent sentence.
In the few seconds before Mok replied, Rome could hear his heartbeat in his ears and all his thoughts slowed to almost a complete stop.
‘It’s my job to put myself in harm’s way if it protects the family,’ Mok was calm, his tone soft and patient. ‘It’s not your fault this happened. Besides, it’s only a scratch.’ He freed one of his hands and lightly rested his hand against the side of Rome’s face. His hands were rough, but the touch made Rome’s stomach do somersaults as Mok wiped his tears away.
Rome attempted a laugh although when it came out it was more akin to a vaguely strangled sob as he gazed into Mok’s kind eyes ignoring that he probably looked a little ridiculous sat on the bed, crying like a small child.
And then something happened that Rome had wished for for many years but never truly believed would, especially not in circumstances as pitiful as this. Mok kissed him. It was quick and their lips barely brushed each other, but it had happened. His breath caught in his through and he paused, watching the way Mok was blushing a dusty pink colour spreading across his nose and cheeks.
Practically beaming from ear to ear, Rome leaned back in and when once again their lips connected it was like fireworks were going off in his chest. He felt simultaneously like he was floating and that there was a weight holding him down, keeping him present in the moment in a way that was so visceral and comforting in a way he couldn’t articulate. Letting all shame go, he moved to deepen the kiss wrapping his arms around Mok’s neck and straddling the man before him. When Mok pulled Rome closer, gripping at his hips to hold him there, Rome felt as though he may never be able to form a full thought again.
Then someone opened the door.
The two of them sprang apart like a pair of surprised cats and Rome contemplated killing whoever had just interrupted them, until he saw who it was. His brother. Of course it was, because heaven forbid he tried to do anything without someone ruining it.
‘Oh shit, I- uh- just wanted to- to check that Mok was doing ok.’ Thee seemed more embarrassed than either Mok or Rome by the situation which was at least cathartic.
‘I’m fine.’
‘I can- uhhh- see that.’
Rome had to stifle laughter as Thee rapidly left the room, almost tripping over his own feet to escape the awkwardness of the whole ordeal.
Well, that had definitely ruined the mood.