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Post by raidenkile on May 22, 2011 21:04:45 GMT -5
Raiden gratefully took the arm Wil offered, trying to get most of his body to function again despite the fact that he couldn't feel anything in some areas because of the iron. He gave him a weak sort of smile as if saying that he was all right.
If he had been alone Raiden probably would had said more curses and could have possibly lost it and killed these men...but that was the case and it was a relief. Having people around who weren't violent towards him grounded him so he wouldn't lose control of himself or his mind.
"Thanks for the back-up." He mumbled as they left, a bit drained from the fight even with how quick it was. It had been a while since a group of hunters had all banded together in order to stop him. Usually it was one or even two at the most and were quickly knocked out and left while he fled.
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Post by WIL CROFT on May 22, 2011 21:34:10 GMT -5
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Wil kept his arm around Raiden and headed for the parking lot. By default, he aimed them at his Escape that was parked not too far from the mouth of the alley. "You got a safe place to go?" If he didn't, Wil would, reluctantly, bring the guy back to the motel where he and Tish were staying but his preference was not to introduce random people he met while hunting to his kid. It was just better, hunting attracted a lot of sketchy people. Like, you know, him.
When they got to the anonymous late-model black SUV (Wil didn't subscribe to the hunter tendency to drive flashy cars, he thought they attracted too much attention. Instead he drove anonymous modern cars in forgettable configurations, replacing them every eighteen months or so. It wasn't like the money was an issue), Wil leaned Raiden back against the passenger side door and looked him over apprasingly, trying to figure out how hurt the guy was.
"They had to be lookin' for you," he said almost idly as he went to slide his hand across Raiden's belly, looking for wounds. "No four random hunters carry cold iron weapons with 'em everywhere they go. Silver, sure, but not iron. You need to be patched up."
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Post by raidenkile on May 22, 2011 21:48:50 GMT -5
Raiden could sense Wil's unease. "No, but I can figure it out." He wouldn't be a burden to the man who had just saved his life. He might have to skip town again but Raiden would end up safe again, somehow. "If things get bad I'll move on to another town."
He shifted uncomfortably, not really liking being stared at even if he did have some injuries. Raiden liked being in the shadows, unnoticed and left to his own devices. Occassionally the spotlight was appealing but only in silly situations like when he wanted a one-night stand or a fling to get his confidence back and lessen his stress for at least a little while.
Raiden could feel the sting on his arm still and was unhappy to notice the sting hurt worse on his chest, and there was another deep cut on his leg somewhere. The blood wasn't very bad but the pain of the cold iron stung like it was still embedded in his skin.
"I...I guess I got sloppy somewhere," Raiden wracked his brain to try to figure out exactly when. "It never felt like I was being followed, I stayed anonymous. I don't know how they found me." He sighed, aggravated that despite all his hard work trying to hide he still was being hunted quite fiercely.
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Post by WIL CROFT on May 22, 2011 23:04:53 GMT -5
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Wil pulled back and looked Raiden up and down, assessing his condition. "No," he decided. "You're not up to being alone." He wasn't sure why he was so certain that Raiden was alone, didn't have a partner or whatever else. Wishful thinking, maybe. "Besides, if they were looking for you, they may have scoped your place. I'm in a motel off the interstate, we'll get you patched up and worry about getting your stuff tomorrow."
He tugged lightly at Raiden's sleeve, trying to get him to step forward so that he could help him into the truck. It occurred to Wil that he was being more than usually touchy-feely, but he chalked it up to feeling a kinship with the other man. Both monsters, both hunters, there weren't too many like them running around.
More gently, "It'll be okay. I've got medical supplies back at the motel, you'll be safe there." He'd text ahead,
get Tish to stay in her room. They did adjoining rooms these days, they'd stayed together in the same room when she was younger but as she got closer to being a teenager she'd started going on and on about privacy and 'girl stuff'. Pointing out to her that he'd been alive for three centuries and there wasn't much in the way of 'girl stuff' that he hadn't seen in that time got him absolutely nowhere.
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Post by raidenkile on May 22, 2011 23:33:59 GMT -5
Raiden visibly hesitated, caught between a rock and a hard place. He didn't know this man, however, Wil had proven that he was on his side by helping him with the hunters back there. "You've already helped me so much. I don't want to overstep my welcome." Raiden wasn't used to getting close to people or even letting them touch him. He hated being touched and yet here he was letting Wil guide him around with a second-thought.
His mind was screaming that this wasn't safe. True, they were both hunters and creatures...but safety was a luxury Raiden normally didn't have. Being safe. He had forgotten how that felt like. "Safe?" Raiden whispered softly to himself before eyeing Wil with both curiosity and hesitance. Should he just go ahead and trust him?
"Are you sure?" Raiden gave Wil one last chance to back out of the situation. He watched him carefully, not fearful but wary and ready to run off if the situation called for it.
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Post by WIL CROFT on May 22, 2011 23:57:04 GMT -5
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"Safe," Wil promised as he got Raiden into the truck. They needed to get out of there. "They won't be lookin' for you there. And even if they come, two's safer'n one."
As soon as Raiden was safely stowed in the passenger seat Wil got them out of that parking lot and on the road, taking a fast but circuitous route through residential streets toward the hotel. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed in a quick text, he didn't need to convey much.
Pocketing the phone again, he asked. "You need anything special for healing? Powdered silver or anything like that?" He couldn't remember why he thought that might be so, some odd snatch of memory about 'the metal of the moon is a friend to the fae'. He wasn't even sure if it was real lore or just one of those things that floated around, even a line from a novel or poem.
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Post by raidenkile on May 23, 2011 0:56:45 GMT -5
Raiden wasn't used to being taken care of and the gentle way in which Wil handled him was...well it was definitely comforting but very strange as well. It was as if Raiden had stumbled across the twilight zone and wasn't in his normal reality anymore. He sure hoped he'd be able to keep down most of his curiosity about this, if he got soft and used to this kind of treatment that could mean trouble.
"How did you know that?" Raiden was genuinely surprised, and a bit taken a back. Most hunters only knew the ways to kill supernatural creatures- not to heal them...though in this case it did make more sense. Wil, whatever he was, wasn't human so maybe he was more thoughtful than most. "It's true." Powdered silver was hard to come by and expensive and those thoughts disheartened Raiden. He might be forced to deal with the pain longer than necessary.
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Post by WIL CROFT on May 23, 2011 1:13:30 GMT -5
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Wil shot Raiden another of those wry, sly smiles that seemed to be characteristic for him. "I been around a long, long time. And I read a lot." And, possibly more to the point, "I've got some silverware back at the room that I aint gotten around to melting down for bullets yet." Hunt a while and you learn to cast your own silver bullets, and the easiest way to do it that Wil had ever found was to buy mismatched sets of ugly silver flatware from pawn shops and melt it down yourself. It wasn't a hundred percent pure, even if you yanked the blades out of the butter knives, but close enough for most purposes. "That and a few minutes with ametal rasp, we'll get something that'll do."
They weren't being followed, Wil had been watching carefully, so he went ahead and took the turnoff and headed to the motel. Ground floor room, right at the end next to the stairs. Wil checked the parking lot out of habitual paranoia before pulling into a parking spot that was actually directly in front of Tish's room. If things went to hell, which they did occasionally, she needed to be able to get to the car a lot faster than he did.
"C'mon, let's get you inside." He offered Raiden an arm again for the short walk to the door of his room. Inside it was a typical high-end motel suite--kitchenette and seating area, two queen beds, very spacious and clean. There was, Wil was pleased to note, no immediate sign of Tish's presence in the room. She must have done a quick sweep, good girl. He guided Raiden back to the bed to sit and made a good solid effort to ignore the quick clutch of heat in his belly when he suddenly found himself standing over the fae man sitting on the foot of his bed. Not the time, not the place.
Working to keep that in mind, he said, "Get your shirt off, I'll see about makin' you some silver dust." And he made himself move over to the table instead of staying to watch Raiden strip. Not that he didn't peek once or twice.
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Post by raidenkile on May 23, 2011 1:20:49 GMT -5
Raiden let his eyes flicker around the room when Wil led him inside, taking in everything at once. For the most part he was just making sure he had an escape route in case something went bad but he was fascinated at how nice the room was. He hadn't seen this nice a place in a long while and he'd be lying if he said he could afford anything near this quality of a place.
It was times like this that Raiden's self-conscious streak reared it's ugly head. He hesitated again but then bit his lower lip and after making sure that Wil wasn't watching him at that immediate moment, he took his shirt off. He held it in his lap, hiding at least some part of his chest in a sort of nervous fashion as his cheeks warmed up. Shirtless in another man's hotel room. Now that was...oh jeez he was embarrassed.
He tried to hide his shyness, looking down at his shoes intently as he worked to hide his blush and his urge to reach up and run his hand through his hair. Nervous ticks would not help right now.
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Post by WIL CROFT on May 23, 2011 1:51:35 GMT -5
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Wil didn't notice Raiden being self-conscious about the motel room, he was too busy trying not to get self-conscious himself about how much his was noticing Raiden's...well, just Raiden. It had been a long time since he'd been with a man, honestly it had been a couple of months since he was with anyone, and years since he'd tried anything that lasted longer than a single weekend. It just wasn't worth it, only other hunters understood things at all and there was never anyone he liked well enough to have them around Tish.
But now he was thinking that maybe when this was done he'd better go find himself a gay bar or something and get this out of his system. Because it wasn't right to be sitting at a pressboard motel table, grating the handle of a very ugly butter knife into a melmac bowl and fighting off a rising need to go over there and start running his hands all over poor Raiden for reasons that were entirely non-medical.
Knowing full well that the silence had drawn on too long, Wil finally managed to make himself watch what he was doing instead of the man on his bed and say, "I've got some almond oil, I think. Will that do to suspend this in, or does it have to be some other kind of thing?" One of many advantages to being functionally immortal: Wil had seen enough decades of squalor and filth that he didn't get himself all worked up about seeming unmanly for using moisturizers on his skin and product in his hair. He was stuck with this skin for a long, long time and he preferred it not look like salt-cured saddlebags.
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Post by raidenkile on May 23, 2011 2:02:57 GMT -5
Raiden had to fight for his breath, the silence in the room nearly suffocating. Normally he relished silence, the peace of it and being left alone but somehow there was a growing heat in the pit of his stomach and he knew from how hot his cheeks had gotten that he must be blushing fairly hard.
"N-no...that's perfect." He struggled to keep his voice normal, wincing a bi at the stutter. Raiden liked being confident and even a little cocky just to shove people away and keep himself alone but he felt so timid in this man's motel room...with just the two of them.
His chest stung a bit but Raiden wasn't surprised. The cut on his arm was fairly okay, shallow enough that even if it wasn't healed it would somehow repair itself on it's own over time but the one on his chest was very deep and Raiden was surprised he hadn't gotten nauseas or ill. Perhaps it was his shock at Wil's acts of kindness and the help he was getting that was keeping him stable.
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Post by WIL CROFT on May 23, 2011 2:23:02 GMT -5
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Wil nodded, wincing a little at the sound of the rasp moving against the uneven surface of the silver handle. "Almost there, just a little more." He wished he could light a cigarette, a smoke is such a useful social defense. At least the smell of grinding metal probably kept Raiden from scenting his arousal, that was a sort of blessing.
Another ninety seconds and Wil arbitrarily decided that he had enough ground silver in the bottom of the bowl. Making a mental note to wash this bowl very, very thoroughly before he tried to eat cereal out of it in the morning, he carried it back into the bathroom, then emerged again a moment later with very clean hands being used to stir the metal shavings and thick, sweet oil into a kind of a slurry.
"Lay back on the bed, I'll paint this on." In a way he regretted saying it, both because it would be so much easier to disguise this useless lust he was feeling and because the part of him that wasn't thinking this lust was such a bad thing after all didn't want his first touch to be pain.
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Post by raidenkile on May 23, 2011 2:33:57 GMT -5
Raiden blinked in surprise, before looking up at Wil with wide eyes. Lay...back on the bed? He bit his lower lip, teasing it between his teeth for a moment as he looked at the mixture and bowl in Wil's hand before finally nodding. "All right." If he wanted to get healed this was the way to do it even if it was embarrassing with his stomach in knots at the prospect. Raiden was very thankful that he managed to keep the stutter out of his voice this time.
He kicked off his shoes really quickly in order to keep from dirting Wil's bed and then fell back against the soft plush cover, closing his eyes. Raiden figured if his eyes were closed then he wouldn't react so badly though the pink flush still dusted his cheeks.
Raiden forced his body to relax to keep his nerves a secret. He took a deep breath in and out and hoped he didn't look foolish.
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Post by WIL CROFT on May 23, 2011 9:59:36 GMT -5
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A deep breath and Wil sat down on the side of the bed next to Raiden's hip. The mattress barely dented under his slight weight, and he took Raiden's wrist in his clean hand and laid the injured arm across his legs, turning it so that he could reach the wound.
"Sorry if this hurts," he murmured as he gathered up a scoop of the metal-impregnated oil on two fingertips and started trickling it directly into the wound. Cautious, as gentle and as careful as he would be if it were Tish, he smeared the shimmering, sweet-scented oil into and around the wound, making sure that there was nowhere that had been touched by the iron that wasn't coated now in silvered oil.
He looked up at Raiden, cursing himself a moment too late when he realized that he'd ducked his chin to a coquettish angle, checked them man through his lashes in an openly flirtatious move. "How's that? Any better at all?"
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Post by raidenkile on May 23, 2011 13:57:58 GMT -5
Raiden's eyelashes fluttered, eyes still closed, as Wil tended to his wound. Relief shuddered through his body and he let out a soft sigh and the gentle touch. He was unused to such treatment. Other hunters had been forced to help path his wounds before and they did so roughly with the callused hands of a hunter but this man...he had a light touch as if handling something precious.
He let his eyes flutter open, though they were still half-lidded with sleepiness. "Much better. Thank you." Raiden let out a sliver of a shy smile, flushing a bit more seeing the way Wil was looking at him. He had to force down the urge to shudder with pleasure, biting his lower lip again to also keep down the whimper that wanted to escape.
Raiden had recieved many looks before. Ones of hate, disgust, sometimes even leers or smirks but the look Wil bore was more tender than that-just as his touch had been. Raiden had to fight down the urge to react, trying to take the healing and not trouble his host.
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