TW: UMY, Injury

"Mornin'," Alex greets, throwing his jacket across the breakfast bar as he passes on the way to standing beside Ross at the stove. Bacon sizzles and pops in the frying pan, wafting its divine scent in Alex's direction and causing his stomach to growl in appreciation. Gaze sliding over Ross' torso, taking his time to appreciate the fact that Ross is lacking a shirt, Alex lets a sly grin curl across his lips.

"How come you're cooking breakfast? Trott too-" Alex's words drop away as his eyes narrow on a notch in Ross' skin across the back of his ribs - a dark line he had previously mistaken for a shadow. Immediately his fingers drop to the contusion, catching on the rough edges of the cut and making Ross almost drop the plastic spatula in his hand as he winces.

"How long's this been here?" Alex snaps, leaning on the kitchen counter so that he can tip himself into Ross' eyeline; handsome features a portrait of fiery concern. Ross shrugs, flipping the bacon and not looking at Alex for all the good it does trying to hide his true emotions from the tenacious kelpie.

"Dunno mate; hadn't noticed it." Ross refuses to meet Alex's heated stare and nudges him out of the way with a sharp elbow - sharing out the bacon between three plates on the countertop and placing the rashers expertly on top of soft, white bread slices. Still not looking at Alex, only adding to his irritation, Ross places the frying pan on one of the rear stove hobs and switches off the one he had been using.

"Ross. Why haven't you healed yourself." It isn't a question, and Alex's impudence makes Ross only ignore him further as he puts together the bacon sandwiches and hands one of the plates to Alex. The porcelain edge jabs into Alex's sternum, and Alex's glare jabs into the back of Ross' neck as he turns away with the remaining plates and walks away into the living room.

Alex takes a deep breath and drags his fingernails over the underside of the plate. No longer angry with concern, Alex scowls at his own pushy behaviour and realises too late that he has irritated Ross.

+

Ross turns himself in the mirror, lifting his arm out of the way so that he can run his fingertips across the slash over his ribs that Alex had called attention to earlier. There is a slight sting, but nothing worth worrying about, as he touches it. A knock on the bedroom door makes him lift his head, horns catching the light in a flash of lapis as he calls out for the knocker to enter.

"Hey," Alex greets, voice soft but unease obvious in the line of his shoulders. Thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his jeans, Alex holds something in his right hand whilst his left remains tucked into his pocket. Instead of looking at Ross, Alex stares at the bed in the center of the room and licks his lips.

"Smith." Ross nods, taking a step towards him only to jump when Alex suddenly throws his arm out and opens his hand to reveal a strange clump of something that looks like it may have been a vague, hollow cylinder once upon a time. Ross raises a perfectly carved eyebrow, looking between the item in Alex's hand and the tense expression on Alex's face.

"What is that?" Ross takes another step forward, picking the object up between forefinger and thumb so that he can inspect it. That is some sort of glass; pale turquoise in its colouring, though slightly opaque as though dirty.

"It's uh-" Alex coughs, scruffing a hand through the back of his hair, "it's sea glass. Think it used to be a bottle or some shit, anyway-" Alex steps closer, gesturing to the ex-bottle in Ross' hand with a small wave of his hand, "I thought you could use it on- on your cut."

Ross looks at Alex with a fond smile, rubbing his thumb over the ocean-smoothed edge of the glass and feeling a tug of appreciation for the kelpie stood before him. Alex flicks his gaze up to meet Ross', his expression softening and a careful smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he runs a hand through his hair and lets out a breathless chuckle.

"Thanks, Smith." Ross lifts his arm, exposing the cut fully as he holds the glass out to Alex, "you wanna do the honours?"

Alex blinks at him, the most taken aback Ross has ever seen the usually headstrong male, and licks his lips as he glances furtively at the glass offered to him.

"Are you- you sure?" Ross has to admit, seeing Alex this nervous and unsure is partly endearing; partly bizarre. Privately, he wonders if Trott has ever had the honour of experiencing it first hand. Slowly, still smiling in a way that makes Alex really admire the beauty of Ross' facial features, Ross nods.

Taking the cool glass in his hand, Alex steps close to Ross and runs his hand over the line missing from Ross' side. The slash is an odd juxtaposition of the usual smooth stone of Ross' body, and the rough edges of the cut as they brush against Alex's palm. Pulling his gaze from the subtle shadows of muscle around by Ross' ribs, Alex looks up into the various blues of Ross' eyes.

There is a bolt of royal blue that runs through Ross' right iris like a crack across the usual pale turquoise and ice; taken from a shard of murano glass that Trott had given Ross when he had taken a brick to the eye on a job. The original impact had temporarily blinded him. Though Alex hated to recall the way that Ross had curled in on himself upon having his vision impaired, he can't help but think that the small imperfection is a perfect example of just how extraordinary Ross is.

"How does it work?" Alex asks in the present, feeling the weight of the glass in one hand and the comforting solidity of Ross' body warming against his touch in the other. Ross shrugs, looking down at Alex's hand over his wound and smiling a little at the way Alex's thumb is rubbing an absent circle into his skin.

"Dunno. Usually I just sort-of... press it against the cut." Alex takes his hand away at Ross' words, passing the incomplete bottle between his hands as though testing its weight before throwing it before cautiously pressing it against Ross' side. Nothing happens.

"It's not-" Alex starts, before feeling a sudden pull against the hand touching the glass as it starts to sink into Ross' body. Eyes wide, Alex drinks in the sight of the sea-worn bottle being absorbed by Ross' skin; the gargoyle's body glowing a faint indigo where the cut is once the bottle is completely gone.

Alex blinks, fingertips just touching the line of pale aquamarine slashed across Ross' side where there had previously been a laceration. His mouth splits wide into a broad, triumphant grin, and Alex looks up at Ross to see a softer, pleased version of his smile. Ross' arm smooths around from where he had been holding it out of the way, the back of his hand barely brushing against Alex's chest as he brings it up to draw Alex closer by pressing his fingertips to Alex's jaw.

Ross kisses Alex softly, hand falling to the curve of Alex's shoulder when the kiss is returned and Alex absently rubs his fingers over the new glass scar on Ross' side. The weight of Ross' tail is soothing as Alex feels it curl around his waist, pulling him a little closer, and causes him to smile into the kiss.

"Smith?! You up there?!" Trott's voice calls up the stairs and tugs Alex back from kissing Ross with an apologetic smile.

"Yeah, I'm here!" Alex calls back, not looking away from the soft smile on Ross' hard features. Ross' other hand reaches up to play with the longer parts of Alex's hair; twirling the auburn strands around his fingers and enjoying the way they spring back when let go. Thumb rubbing a line into Alex's neck, Ross smirks when Alex shivers a little under the touch.

"Ross with you? I need his help, too!" Comes Trott's voice again, and Alex sighs - leaning his head forward against Ross' temple and admiring the swirl of colours in Ross' eyes.

"We're just coming!" Ross calls down to Trott, kissing Alex again and skimming his hand down so that he can feel the steady thud of Alex's heart against his palm. Trott is silent for a few minutes that Ross is happy to spend relishing the rare opportunity to just kiss Alex away from the chaos of their usual lives.

"You better not mean that literally!" Trott's warning makes Alex snort and break the kiss. His roguish grin sends a spark down Ross' spine, and Alex seems to make a show of walking backwards towards the bedroom door whilst holding Ross' eye contact. Nodding his head back to beckon Ross to follow him, Alex disappears around the doorway.

"Never get the chance with Chris 'cock block' Trott around!" Ross hears Alex shout, and bites his lip to stop the loud laugh that threatens to burst out of his mouth. Shaking his head fondly as he hears the galloping thuds of Alex running down the stairs, Ross looks briefly down at his side and runs his fingers over the new scar before following in Alex's footsteps and hurrying downstairs to see what Trott wants.

Credit to Smushfaace on Ao3