If I only owned holic

Theme 4 Band-aid

"Damn slave driver, making me sew an entire FRICKIN' Kimono BY HAND!!" Watanuki cursed as the silver needle in his hand dived and bobbed through the gorgeous fabric in his lap.

At first, he'd marveled over the project. The silk fabric shone even in dim light, and the thread to be used looked like spun gold.

The wonder had quickly dissipated when she handed him a pattern and the most vicious needle he'd ever seen. Wincing as the needle once again bit into his fingers, he gave an aggravated growl. His hands were covered in pin pricks and blood, both fresh and dried, as Yuuko had not let him take any breaks at all. It had been a full twenty-four hours since he'd begun.

Knotting and breaking off the thread, he crowed triumphantly before throwing the finished garment to the floor. And if there were multiple areas that were slightly rust colored (which there were) Yuuko could damn well DEAL with it!

Stalking out of the shop he paused to see Doumeki sitting on the ground by the lamp post, asleep. The slight stink that wafted at Watanuki as he approached let him know that Doumeki had probably been waiting there the entire time he'd been in the shop.

Raising a well-pricked hand, he shook the other boy awake. "Baka. You could have at least gone home and bathed."

Groggily, Doumeki blinked up at him. "Wha?"

Watanuki rolled his eyes. "You stink." The fact that Watanuki probably had a similar scent clinging to him was irrelevant. HE hadn't had a choice. The damn archer had.

The young seer flinched when Doumeki caught his hand. "You're hurt!?"

Thus a rant was prompted, involving flesh eating needles, evil witches and ways to destroy both aforementioned subjects. It was a truly righteous and angry soliloquy that was cut short by a yelp as the speaker was yanked into his audience's lap.

Watanuki's face turned as red as his hand when Doumeki's warm tongue bathed his skin, golden eyes boring into his own intensely. And if Watanuki's breathing and heart rate picked up slightly, well that was merely indignation. So were the keening whines….really, they were.

Pulling band-aids out of his bag, Doumeki covered every wound with the bandage, then his own lips.

"Why did you…" Watanuki trailed off, both hating and thrilling at how weak and breathy his voice sounded.

"You kiss a wound to make it heal faster."

And when Doumeki's mouth crushed over his in a brutal, eating kiss, Watanuki couldn't bring himself to protest that his mouth was perfectly fine. Besides, it would probably be bruised after the damn archer was finished anyway.

Maybe the smug bastard would even kiss it better again….