changwook (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jichangwook) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thepeak_rp2017-01-03 06:39 pm
jichangwook) wrote in thepeak_rp2017-01-03 06:39 pm
Entry tags:
unexpected meetings.
Muses: ji changwook (jichangwook) and zhang yixing (healish)
Date / Time: 01/3, early morning
Rating: pg-13 (please note mention of violence)
Type: thread
Status: closed
Summary: palatial crest just got a little more interesting... and convenient.
changwook didn't usually start his night planning on needing stitches and other more severe kinds of medical attention. in fact, he had gotten pretty good at stitching up his own wounds over the years. he had a medical kit under his kitchen sink for that reason precisely. however, it was just a little more difficult to stitch yourself up when the entry wound was on his back, and down low enough to maybe piercing a kidney or something. changwook figured that he was good on that front, at least, because he was still managing to walk from where he was hunting back to palatial crest. it was a wonder that he managed to make it this far without people noticing the slight limp, the lump on his back where he was pressing part of his ripped t-shirt against the wound under his jacket, or wince that would break through his carefully crafted poker face when a sharp pain shot up his spine from the stab wound. after nearly a decade spent hunting, it would be a shame if he gave himself away so easily now.
he made it into the foyer of palatial crest when he finally decided to take a break, quickly glancing behind him to make sure that he hadn't been trailing blood anywhere. he had ripped the bottom half of his t-shirt off after the fight had ended and wrapped it haphazardly around his waist to put some semblance of pressure on the wound on his trek back home, but he had to be absolutely certain that he wasn't leaving any too obvious evidence behind. it was in the lobby, safely reassured that he hadn't, in fact, been leaving a trail of blood, that he stopped to consider exactly how he was going to stitch up this wound on his back. he didn't know, exactly, who he could ask. it wasn't like he could just walk up to the few friends that he had in the building and ask them to stitch up a stab wound for them, it might... raise a few questions that he wasn't quite in the mood to answer. it wasn't easy to explain to someone that he hunted supernatural creatures in the dead of night, among other rather sketchy things when hunts were scarce.
little did changwook know, his problem was about to be solved for him, in the form of a soft little sound of surprise coming from behind him. changwook turned quickly, but the sudden movement made him wince, his hand immediately moving to cover the wound on his back. shit.
jichangwook) and zhang yixing (healish)Date / Time: 01/3, early morning
Rating: pg-13 (please note mention of violence)
Type: thread
Status: closed
Summary: palatial crest just got a little more interesting... and convenient.
changwook didn't usually start his night planning on needing stitches and other more severe kinds of medical attention. in fact, he had gotten pretty good at stitching up his own wounds over the years. he had a medical kit under his kitchen sink for that reason precisely. however, it was just a little more difficult to stitch yourself up when the entry wound was on his back, and down low enough to maybe piercing a kidney or something. changwook figured that he was good on that front, at least, because he was still managing to walk from where he was hunting back to palatial crest. it was a wonder that he managed to make it this far without people noticing the slight limp, the lump on his back where he was pressing part of his ripped t-shirt against the wound under his jacket, or wince that would break through his carefully crafted poker face when a sharp pain shot up his spine from the stab wound. after nearly a decade spent hunting, it would be a shame if he gave himself away so easily now.
he made it into the foyer of palatial crest when he finally decided to take a break, quickly glancing behind him to make sure that he hadn't been trailing blood anywhere. he had ripped the bottom half of his t-shirt off after the fight had ended and wrapped it haphazardly around his waist to put some semblance of pressure on the wound on his trek back home, but he had to be absolutely certain that he wasn't leaving any too obvious evidence behind. it was in the lobby, safely reassured that he hadn't, in fact, been leaving a trail of blood, that he stopped to consider exactly how he was going to stitch up this wound on his back. he didn't know, exactly, who he could ask. it wasn't like he could just walk up to the few friends that he had in the building and ask them to stitch up a stab wound for them, it might... raise a few questions that he wasn't quite in the mood to answer. it wasn't easy to explain to someone that he hunted supernatural creatures in the dead of night, among other rather sketchy things when hunts were scarce.
little did changwook know, his problem was about to be solved for him, in the form of a soft little sound of surprise coming from behind him. changwook turned quickly, but the sudden movement made him wince, his hand immediately moving to cover the wound on his back. shit.
no subject
Car crashes felt like long stretches of dry desert, impossible to see the other side. He'd spent the majority of the night moving from bed to bed, shadowing his mentor for the day, putting pressure on wounds, stringing up IVs, splattering blood all over his jacket sleeves. It felt like the night had stretched into the longest one he'd felt in awhile, and he had an early seminar the next day. All he wanted to do was take a long shower--the longest shower--and sleep.
He couldn't sleep. Standing there in the lobby, as if waiting for him, was a man that Yixing vaguely recognized as someone who lived near him. In the building, at least--someone he'd talked to? Definitely. The one who'd offered to guard his doorway. The one who made him smile. His keen nose, as if trained after the hours he'd just spent, smelled the blood from the doorway of the lobby. With a short sound of surprise, Yixing let his backpack slide off his shoulder, almost dropping it to the floor. The strap caught in his palm.
"Stairwell," Yixing said, adamant, nodding towards the doors just a little further, near the elevators. He didn't want to chance having to move the other too far, didn't want to risk him bleeding all over the elevator, didn't even know if he could walk that far, make it to either apartment. Without any hesitation, Yixing strode forward, hooking an arm around the other's waist to press his hand to the mold of fabric on his back that he figured might be holding a wound shut, or, worst case scenario, might be holding some organs in--no, just a wound, he surmised with a breath of relief. It wasn't too hard to let Changwook lean on him for support, but getting the door to the stairwell open while holding his heavy backpack (and why did he decide, of all nights, to bring some of his books home this night?) proved mildly challenging.
Yixing could feel the warmth of his own presence stretching, covering Changwook in a kind of gentle embrace once the door slammed shut behind them and he could dump his bag there, on the flat surface just before the stairs. "Sit down, take it all off," Yixing said, with just a touch of humor, though the smile that claimed his lips was still tight with worry, and he unwound his arms, tentative, to let Changwook settle on his own. "Let me see what we're working with, here."