[ wash's scars are even worse than maine thought they'd be. they all have scars — no freelancer in the project escaped that particular fate — but maine has never seen an injury like this, so widespread and fine, white-pink lines feathering down his shoulders and back like the branches of a dead tree. definitely a rejection, then, or something close to it.
he draws closer, brushing the backs of his knuckles over his implant and across his shoulders. his touch is gentle, careful, always so fucking careful with wash and carolina, but he can see wash's muscles rippling under his skin, tension building everywhere his fingers pass.
maine slips his hand from his shoulder to his elbow and reels him around to face him. another scar, diagonal to his heart, with smaller, upraised marks surrounding it. this one was from a bullet and metal shrapnel, also new. ] And this?
no subject
he draws closer, brushing the backs of his knuckles over his implant and across his shoulders. his touch is gentle, careful, always so fucking careful with wash and carolina, but he can see wash's muscles rippling under his skin, tension building everywhere his fingers pass.
maine slips his hand from his shoulder to his elbow and reels him around to face him. another scar, diagonal to his heart, with smaller, upraised marks surrounding it. this one was from a bullet and metal shrapnel, also new. ] And this?