boxer ⋆ luke hemmings ✔️

22. Little Spoon

He made her unbelievably happy.

It was funny, because the first time they'd met, all Sophie wanted to do was to get out of Luke's car and walk home if she had to. She didn't necessarily want to be anywhere near him.

But now she found herself wishing for the complete opposite, and vice versa.

Luke hissed in slight pain, their earlier position of his fingers digging into her hips to cope with the unpleasant feeling resuming even without a fight taking place. She was helping him clean up; the aftermath of a triumph that was long overdue.

"You need to keep still," she murmured softly, watching as Luke's face twisted and winced in pain. She hated seeing him like that, but Sophie knew that she'd have to get used to it eventually. She just hoped that it would be soon.

"Can't help it," Luke sighed. His temple was throbbing and his chest felt as if someone had just slammed a box full of bricks onto it, leaving them there to rest without an ounce of his approval.

"Fuck," he rasped, body reacting as the damp towel in Sophie's hand brushed against the deep graze on his chin, "N-Not so hard, Sophie,"

"Right. I'm sorry," her cheeks reddened, knowing that this was the second time he'd told her that in the span of five minutes.

She couldn't help it; every time Luke talked, her stomach flipped, and her hand would find a way to make an awkward movement that caused the man even more pain.

Luke just nodded, knowing that she wasn't doing it on purpose. If she wanted to hurt him, she would have done it by now.

He winced at the thoughts in his head, each one a result of the short kiss they'd shared just a few hours prior. He wanted to talk to her about it, but couldn't find the right time; while she was helping everyone else tend to an unconscious Ashton, Luke did nothing but attempt to calm the little voice inside of his head that scolded him for not being stereotypically 'manly' enough to make the first move.

Luke had won the fight, which was both a relief and a curse. He hated the thought of Sophie seeing him as some brute that couldn't control himself, but he also hated the thought of her seeing him as nothing but a wimp. Either way, Luke found himself winning but not winning at the same time; neither outcomes sounded particularly pleasant.

"How bad is it?" he sighed lowly, keeping his eyes shut. If the cut really was as deep as it felt, then Luke would have no choice but to get stitches- territory that wasn't new to him, but territory that he'd rather not cross all the same.

Sophie shrugged lightly, staring at it with cautious eyes. Regardless of how difficult it had been to stop the bleeding, it wasn't nearly as bad as it was earlier, "The bleeding's stopped,"

"Is that a good thing?"

There was a pause.

"No. It's a very, very, very bad thing, and you should wish for more so that you can suffer from eternal blood loss," she muttered, pressing the towel against the gash with as much care as humanly possible.

When she saw the semi-surprised look on Luke's face, she blushed again, "I'm joking,"

"Oh." it sounded stupid, but Luke was far too entranced in the features of her face to even hear her properly. She could have just confessed her bra size to him and he wouldn't know.

Only, Luke did. She was a D. He could tell because of the ring girl outfit she wore earlier, and the only ring girl that was currently in her own clothes at the time was someone whose name started with an A. He couldn't remember who, but he could remember what her size was; Luke had had his dick inside of her at some point, and he could vaguely make out the text printed on the label of the padded material before he ripped it off in a haste of sexual frustration.