Work Text:
Leon tried to suppress the scream that wanted to escape his mouth. That horrible bug had sliced right through his thigh before he managed to bury a bolt in its face. He patted his pockets for a herb or first aid spray but came up empty. Fuck.
With no other option than to apply pressure with his hand to stop the bleeding as well as he could, he hobbled through the big doors and closed them firmly behind him. Leaning against the ornate carved wood, he took a moment to catch his breath. When his eyes opened again, his gaze fell onto the shining purple lantern that hung next to a small door to his left.
Yes! Exactly what he needed. Holding his thigh, he made his way over to the merchant’s room with slow and painful movements.
“Hello, strang-“ The merchant’s mouth went silent when his gaze fell onto the hunched figure of his most recent customer and a face that was distorted in pain. Without pause he grabbed one of the first aid sprays on his display table and waved it in front of Leon’s face. “Got exactly what you need, mate.”
The stranger grabbed a bag from his combat belt which made a metallic clinking noise as it was dropped on the table.
“Can I sit?” The merchant nodded and cleared a part of his table to allow the injured man to rest. To the merchant’s surprise, the man unsnapped his belt and dropped it with all his supplies on a crate next to him. Then he began to unbutton his trousers and gently peel them over his injured thigh. The gash didn’t look pretty.
“That doesn’t look pretty, mate.”
His customer groaned as he gently lowered himself on the table, pulling up his injured leg gently. “Yeah, well you should see yourself.” He couldn’t stop a smile forming behind his bandana, if the man was still cracking jokes it couldn’t be that bad.
Leon started shaking the spray when he was interrupted by the merchant. "Wait.” He reached into the pocket on the inside of his coat and handed Leon a wet cotton pad that smelled of alcohol. “On the house.”
The man looked confused. Not surprising, given the fact that he had just pulled sterile first aid supplies out of his – admittedly – old and battered looking coat. The merchant decided to share a little secret. He patted his left pec. “Got a special pocket that always has what I desire. As long as it’s not too big.”
The man frowned, but accepted the offered item. Surely he had seen weirder things today. “Thank you.” Leon began cleaning the outside of his wound, but after two swipes the white cotton between his fingers was completely red. He tossed it on the floor when a hand entered his field of vision with a second piece of cotton.
The merchant continued to hand him cotton pads until the skin on his strong legs had returned to their normal colour and the edges of the cut were clean. The stranger shook the first aid spray again and began to coat his wound generously with it.
The anaesthetic in the spray seemed to take immediate effect, the pained breathing of his customer calming itself as the flesh of his thigh started to heal.
When the skin had closed again, only a thin smear of blood remained on the almost healed edge.
“Do you maybe have one more?” The man asked with a small smile, no doubt feeling awkward for asking for more help. But the merchant merely slipped his hand into his coat and pulled out another disinfectant swap.
“Thanks.” The man cleaned the now much better looking cut with a quiet hum. He leaned back, gently flexing his leg to test the muscles in his thigh. His legs looked nice, the pale skin stretched over strong muscles, with a light smattering of hair that became a bit thicker toward his hip. He slid off his table and shifted his weight between his two legs, as well as lifting his leg as far as it would go with his trousers still around his knees. The movement didn’t just show off his leg muscles but revealed the round muscles of his rear very nicely.
The merchant let his eyes roam from his buttocks over his broad shoulders and back down to his thighs as the man turned around. A strange warmth started pooling in his belly.
The man simply stood in front of him as if to present his healed leg, and the merchant tried to focus on the thin pink scar and not on the shape filling out the man’s briefs dangerously close to it. Something stirred in him. “Looks good, right?”
He cleared his throat. “Sure does, mate.”
The movement had agitated the healing cut again and a little drop of blood ran down Leon’s skin. He reached into his special pocket one last time and handed his customer a final cotton swap which the man accepted.
But instead of dabbing his leg with it, he just stared at it, a blush creeping over his face. The merchant frowned, before following his gaze to the item in his hand. It was not a cotton pad.
“So your pocket gives you what you desire, huh?”
His eyes widened. “Ha-ha, oops.” He tried to grab the little foil packet from the stranger’s hand but he pulled it back quickly. The merchant was glad his bandana hid his reddening face.
“What am I supposed to do with this, then?"
The merchant swallowed.