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[IMG]http://i65.tinypic.com/28hztyw.jpg[/IMG] [img]https://i.imgur.com/pvtkADB.png?1[/img]

[h2][color cyan]Sander[/color] | [color 8493ca]Christmas[/color][/h2]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img] 
[sub]Collab with [Danny][/sub][/center]
[hider=Scent: Savour]
[color=silver][center]𝕊𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕕𝕒𝕪: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟙𝟡, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕥𝕠𝕟, 𝔻.ℂ.   / /   ℝ𝕠𝕪𝕒𝕝 ℙ𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕊𝕦𝕚𝕥𝕖    / /  ~~𝟚𝟛𝟜𝟘[/center][/color]
Sander staggered down the long hall way, squinting at the doors and half hoping he was in the right penthouse. He hadn’t encountered another screaming regular for a few minutes now, so he assumed he must be in the right place. Fortunately, he was, and he found the door of his shared room easily enough.
 
Opening it proved to be a bit more difficult, as both of his hands were stained with a deep shade of red, and he didn’t want to get it on anywhere. Eventually, his fumbling with the doorknob ended and Sander let himself in, still trailing droplets of red on the carpet.
 
Head wounds always bled quite profusely.
 
His roommate was sitting on the bed then, hands occupied with a braid of colourful ribbons. There were colors in his hair, too, and Sander tried to pick out which as he stumbled closer. 

Christmas turned as the door’s click announced either a soldier, one of the other students, or the only student he honestly cared about—as selfish as that sounded. He paled and froze at the sight of Sander bleeding, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as the trembling set in again. His knife had disappeared after the Wisford fight, and he didn’t see anything sharp in the immediate vicinity. The wound on his neck had closed up properly by now, but his hand dropped its braid of ribbons and flew to the clumsy bandages there anyway, scrabbling to unravel his amateur attempts at keeping the injury wrapped until it was entirely healed.

Sander understood what the blond boy was trying to do, and he was quick to intercept. His hands flew up to grab Christmas’, just as he leaned against the bed, bracing one knee on the matress. However, a few stray drops of blood fell, staining the white bedsheet.
 
“[color cyan]Fu—Sorry.[/color]” -Sander muttered in frustration, before turning his attention back to Christmas –“[color cyan]Hey. It’s fine. I’m fine. Calm down.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”B-bleeding,”[/color] the small boy stammered, hands still trying to pull at the bandages. He was breathing too quickly now, the sight of head gashes so close pushing him to [i]hurry and do something[/i], but his hands didn’t have the strength to break free of Sander’s grip.

“[color cyan]It’s fine. Really. Just…I’ll heal. I’m sorry.[/color]” -Sander assured. At least, tried to, but that seemed to be futile in the face of his roommate’s building panic.
 
So he didn’t really think when he leaned down and pressed his lips against Christmas’.
 
It calmed him down last time, didn’t it?

The trembling only seemed to worsen, and Christmas’s hands curled and uncurled their fingers uselessly, trying to heal Sander, but also agitated by the display of affection—or something like it.

A muffled sound of worry petered away in the healer’s throat, but he managed to stumble through the word [color 8493ca]”H-heal”[/color] around the obstacle of Sander’s mouth.

Sander leaned back, titling his head in confusion when Christmas only appeared to be more panicked. So he tried again with another sloppy kiss, and another, then another one.
 
“[color cyan]I’m fine. Calm down.[/color]” -He mumbled into the kisses, hands leaving Christmas’ hands to reach up and cradle the boy’s face instead.

Christmas blinked rapidly with each kiss, dismayed by the scent and sight of Sander’s blood still dripping easily from the jagged gouges in the pale skin. But a part of him was equally as distracted by the renewed heat every time Sander’s lips met his and the warmth of Sander’s hands around his face. With his hands free he almost reached up to Sander’s injuries, the motion a useless placebo in lieu of actually helping.

Shaking fingers settled for purchase against Sander’s shoulderblades instead, and Christmas tried to insist through pressure alone that Sander heal [i]now[/i], fingers digging slightly into the fabric of his roommate’s shirt.

“[color cyan]Better?[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”Y-you need to—to heal,”[/color] the blond insisted, near tears.

With a deep breath, Sander nodded, leaning back. He kept his gaze locked on Christmas’ though, even when his power came alive around him and engulfed both of them in a red glow. Faint warmth flooded his veins, but it was enough to provide relief to the ache in his wounds. 

“[color cyan]I-It’s safe. I promise.[/color]” -With a sigh, Sander let his body go limp then, laying his head down in Christmas’ lap -”[color cyan]Won’t hurt you.[/color]”

[color 8493ca]”N-not about me—”[/color] he tried to protest, but was interrupted by Sander’s new position. From that angle Christmas had a perfect view of the wounds slowly closing and he was, once again, grateful Sander could take his blood without any pain. His hands moved to hover gently against Sander’s hair and jaw, not daring to touch until the injuries were healed. [color 8493ca]”Need—need more?”[/color] he whispered down to Sander’s bloody face, rubbing the hem of his sweater sleeve against Sander’s chin to clean up some of the blood.

Sander had already closed his eyes then, the exhaustion was catching up to him fast. The only thing keeping him awake was the blood high, but even then, he was keeping it as weak as possible. He already made a promise to Christmas. He would keep it. 

The question begged for an answer though, so Sander only shook his head. 

As long as the injuries were healing, Christmas didn’t protest his quickly tiring roommate. Instead, he did his best to wipe off more of the blood with his sleeve, rubbing as gently as he could so Sander could continue sleeping. When the blood had been cleaned to an acceptable level and the wounds had finally closed, he leaned over Sander’s sleeping form, almost hugging the slow rises and falls of the broader chest.

[color 8493ca]”S-sorry,”[/color] he whispered, mostly to himself. Sander’s comforting presence resting on his lap and within easy reach for a tentative hug was too tempting and despite his apology Christmas refused to straighten up, preferring to lean as far forward as he could to cradle his resting roommate.[/hider]