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"How are you feeling now? Any other complaints?" the doctor removed his dirty latex gloves and discarded them in the appropriate place before going back to where he originally was. "The bruise on your arm was pretty ugly."
"I've been through worse, but this one is bothering me a lot now, it's on my dominant arm."
"You need to be careful, Marcoh. Being a professional and experienced in dealing with illegal matches and dirty opponents doesn't make you immune to... serious consequences." he brought his small stool closer to the boxer and seated in front of him. "Show me the cut on your thigh."
Almost immediately he got up to remove his pants. Marcoh repressed a hiss when he felt the fabric brush against the — still quite fresh — wound. Maybe the other man was right. If wasn't for his agility and quick response to the offender's attack, Santoro would be in a worse condition. He went back to his seat, this time closer to the edge of the sofa so the doctor could see better.
"This will sting, please brace yourself onto something." Daan warned and grabbed his cotton ball previously dipped in hydrogen peroxide. "Ready?"
The boxer nodded and it didn't take long for him to feel the cold wet cotton surface on his cut; it indeed sting but the pain was tolerable. Daan worked fast and cautiously, soon the cut was properly cleaned and he dressed the wound with a gauze.
"It's the better I can do for now. We were lucky to find a first-aid kit around here, your old boxing gym isn't the most... functional these days."
"I'm sorry for asking you to come here. It was the nearest safest place I knew." the italian put both clasped hands to the front while he project his boy to the same direction. "The men know where I hide in normal situations."
"This is a normal situation to you?" Daniël's gaze to him showed disbelief, incredulity. He couldn't believe that man was treating an assault as 'normal'.
"Yes..." he sighed, lowering his head so he could stare at the floor. "I told you before about my... lifestyle."
"Yes, I know but—Listen, Marcoh, you can't put yourself in danger anymore." the doctor got up and approached him, one hand was placed under his chin, lifting his head up so their eyes could meet.
"I'm not sure if I can." Marcoh looked to the left, avoiding eye contact as much as he could. He knew the other one was worried, but if he stops putting himself in danger... "I'm afraid."
"Look at me. Please."
The dutch's pupil dilated, his stare firm at Santoro's insecure green eyes, heart beating irregularily. Daan don't want him to suffer more for something he doesn't know about, something living only inside Marcoh's heart and mind he keeps away from everyone. What does he gains from it? What are his motives? However, one thing is for sure: Marcoh needs to be safe and stop being reckless with his own safety.
"If you can't do it for yourself, at least do it for someone who'd want to see you well and alive." he was itching to say a different thing; too intimate, too personal.
"I can't stop because of it, Daniël. Better me than yo–anyone I know." the italian's voice was soft, low.
"You know it isn't true." his lips twitched, almost imperceptible.
"I'll be fine. Believe me."
"It's impossible to do that when every week you call me to clean your wounds."
"I'm used to it and I don't want them to get you."
"What do you mean by that?" by the time, his hand were close to his body, threatening to enter the pocket of his checkered pants.
"They're asking about you. They know about what you do and your connection with me."
"We can discuss this later." Daan got even closer and after a couple of never-ending seconds, after hesitating for moments he decided to grab Marcoh's face by cupping his cheeks. "At least promise you'll be more careful. Can you do that?"
"Mhm. Thank you, Daan."
To the boxer's surprise, the other man's face approached his and soon he felt lips against his own. Too stunned to do something, Marcoh accepted the affection, probably the only time this would happen between them.
"Call me again if you need anything. I need to go now."
Shy smiles were shared and then the doctor left the building. Marcoh was now alone with his thoughts and with a heart beating faster after being kissed by the man he had some feelings. He wished he could've said 'I love you' to Daan. Not now, maybe when things get better.
And then, he fixed his clothes and quietly left the old gym. The life goes on.