The Simple Things (KinnPorsche The Series Fanfiction)

Why don't you tell me?

Arm would always tend to everyone who's in need of a hand. He untied Porsche's hand and make sure he's okay while the other's are busy trying to find the perpetrator. He would put everyone's safety first before doing his other duty.

But he rarely, rarely let anyone knows when he got hurt, let alone letting them treated his wound. Sometimes he would just let it heal by itself, or silently go to the clinic by himself if the pain distracts him from doing his job.

Most importantly, he always make sure no one notices.

By no one, Pol is an exception, of course. After all, he didn't spent years as his roommate and months as his lover for nothing.

Well, Pol didn't notice it right away. Arm comes home from his duty at midnight, and he's too sleepy to notice a darker area on Arm's sleeve.

He haven't notice it yet in the morning, either. Arm is already in his long sleeves white shirt when he woke up. And Arm said nothing.

It was during the breakfast time, when they're joking and Porsche slapped Arm's forearm lightly, too lightly for it to hurt enought that Arm has to winces. He makes a mental note to asks him when they got some time alone. But for now, they still have a job waiting for them.

He plans to asks Arm when they got back to their room. But his suspicion level risen when Arm, once again, winces as he bumped his arm with a table during lunch time.

That's it. He's had enough.

"Arm, would you come with me for a second?" Pol asks, getting up from his seat.

Arm didn't say anything, but he nodded before getting up and follow him to the toilet.

Pol look around as the door closed behind them, making sure all the stalls are empty before he faced Arm.

"May I see it?"

"What?"

"Your arm."

Arm averted his gaze for a moment before returning back to look at Pol's eyes.

"Why?'

"May I? Or should we just go to the clinic straight away?" Pol asks once again.

Arm, though hesitantly, take off his suit, unbottoned the sleeves and roll it up to his elbow, exposing his bandaged arm.

"What happened?"

"It's not a gunshot wound, don't worry. I just got scratched by a knife, I cleaned it properly and treated it last night when I got back."

Pol sighs.

"Why don't you wake me up?"

"You look so tired."

"But you're hurt." His tone scolding, yet he didn't raise his voice at all.

"The wound isn't that deep. Not as shallow as an accidental scratch made by a kitchen knife, but I can assure you it's not that deep that I couldn't take care of. It's not that serious."

"It's a serious matter for me. You're the one who got hurt, so it's not a matter that I can just brush away as if nothing happened."

Arm looks down. Pol sighs before reaching his hands out, rolling down Arm's sleeve.

"I understand that it's still quite hard for you to get used to asking for help, even if it's me that you're asking a hand from. But I also want you to understand, that you don't have to do everything alone. Not anymore. Not when you have me here with you."

He takes Arm's suit from the sink, helping his lover to put it back on. Arm's gazing gently at him, his lips upturned slightly in a smile.

"I'm sorry, for not telling you."

Pol smiles reassuringly at him, "It's okay."

He put his hands on Arm's shoulders, holding him closer before leaning forward.

"May I?"

With Arm's nod, he pressed his lips and nose to Arm's forehead, then kissed it deeply before backing away after a moment.

"Lunch time would be over soon, shall we continue later?"

Arm's hand reaching out to his as they walk out of the toilet, hand in hand.