Pavel stared at Azrael dispassionately as he sat on the bed across from him. Nervously, Azrael watched him back, standing in the doorway, his hands clasped together. He made sure they were behind his back as he knew his talons made the other man uncomfortable. Pavel was waiting patiently like he had been asked to do. He's being shockingly obedient, considering the situation I've put him in. I suppose it speeds up this process.
"If you're comfortable-" Azrael blew out a heavy breath, the air whistling through his teeth. Now he avoided Pavel's gaze as his lack of adequate socialisation during the last decade came back to bite him quite viciously. Vexed, now, at the way he had intentionally withdrew from society, Azrael tried his best to assuage any unease Pavel felt. He thought back to the few years a person had been gentle to him. "If it isn't crossing a line, could you remove your clothes so I can assess you properly?"
The silence stretched on and Azrael chewed at the inside of his cheek, the scar tissue that was already there being briefly torn back open, as he glanced back down at the man. Pavel's gaze was disinterested, which almost stung more than if it had been disgusted. There was no light in his eyes. "Is this just an excuse to fuck me away from the Lotus? Do you not want to pay or something? It's not even that expensive."
Azrael threw his hands up in defence. His eyes widened slightly though his voice, fortunately, didn't reveal too much of his surprise. "No, why would you think that?" He hoped that his reaction didn't make Pavel even more suspicious, but there was nothing he could do about the shock he had felt at that moment. Azrael had not expected Pavel to so brazenly say that. "This will be as clinical as if you were in a hospital. I swear."
Tilting his head back, Pavel studied him for a moment, his gaze sliding up and down Azrael briefly. Pursing his lips in thought, he finally conceded. "Well, I guess you don't look the type to do that – fine, I'll strip."
Without a further word, he began to unbutton his shirt and Azrael spun around to face the hallway, his face's heat rising. He had been caught off guard by Pavel's unabashed behaviour but it really shouldn't be something that shocked him. How else am I to treat his wounds if I'm not going to look at his bare flesh? Get it together.
"Why are you shy? You will see me in a moment when you check me over, no?" Pavel's voice practically answered Azrael's thoughts and he had a momentary concern that he could read minds somehow. He knew that was ridiculous – rabbits didn't have that kind of skill – so it was only a fleeting worry. "Alright, I'm ready now, Doctor Good Samaritan."
Scoffing silently at his snark, Azrael turned back around, steeling himself for whatever he was about to see. This would be the first time he had seen the centre of his entire world nude and he had no real clue how he was supposed to feel about it because he had no real idea how he felt towards Pavel. Guilt, of course, but, at this point, after so many years, Azrael had formed an oddly intense attachment to him. In the brief time that they'd spent face-to-face, Azrael hadn't had a chance to dissect that.
He sucked in a slight breath to stop himself from behaving in a way that he didn't understand at all. It swiftly deepened into an audible gasp as Azrael laid his eyes on the form of the younger man sitting cross-legged on his mattress. The skin in front of him could hardly be regarded as belonging to a living person.
Pavel's body was covered in wounds, fresh and old. Weeping and healed. The pungent, brassy smell of blood assaulted his senses. Azrael put all of his strength into keeping his face straight as he stepped towards him. Standing directly in front of the battered man now, Azrael allowed himself the slightest twitch of his eyebrows. Tentatively, he asked, "How?"
Now Pavel allowed himself to display an expression that seemed truly vulnerable, his eyes flicking to the side and his arms crossing against his mutilated chest with a wince. His disinterested mask slipped for a moment. "…Do you not know what I do? It is… part of life. I have to make money, you know?"
Azrael bit back his response, his desire to tell Pavel that he was sorry he allowed this to happen, that he hadn't stolen him away from anyone who was going to hurt him because he knew that would go against everything he'd intended. He was not some selfless, self-sacrificing hero; Azrael was a vile monster trying to unmake the mistakes of his past. "I can assume." He sighed, twisted up and terrified. "Do you wish to tell me as I treat you?"
Before Pavel responded, Azrael reached out his hand and rested it on the man's shoulder as he dropped to his haunches. His other hand grasped about for the first aid box he kept next to his bed at all times, freshly stocked after yesterday's shopping trip. Azrael didn't need bandages and the like but it was just a good habit to be in, just in case a situation arose – a situation like this one, for example. Pavel jumped at the contact but his gaze softened a slight bit more at Azrael's well-intentioned but direct words. "It is not a fun story."
"I've heard many types of stories. It won't shock me, I guarantee it." Azrael's gaze intensified and eyebrows knitted as he pried Pavel's arms away from his ribcage and stared at the most obvious wounds. The skin across his ribs, already pulled taught from the systemic malnutrition he must have experienced since he was very small, was weeping from deep lacerations sliced into his flesh. Blood had dried thickly down his waist and hips, soaking into the hem of his boxers that Pavel had left on. I can't believe smell all of this last night. How he's still alive is astounding. It's like his body refuses to die.
Pavel hissed as his exposed flesh was probed, painful despite how gentle Azrael was attempting to be. It was inescapable – his claws were sharp and his skin was tender. "Well, I am… a prostitute so people-" He sniffled briefly before letting out a derisive scoff. "Humans, usually, who visit do not see me as worthy of… anything, really. Certainly not respect."
Quietly, Azrael began to clean away the crusted viscera as Pavel spoke, not interjecting with a single noise. As the blood began to stain the towel red, Pavel's purple, blue, green, and yellow-tinted skin became more visible. Scars had healed with no professional help; wicked deformations that man who held back tears on Azrael's bed didn't deserve in any life. Azrael's eyes did catch on the only neat scar on Pavel's body, a thin line cutting down his chest, below his sternum, which seemed surgical but Azrael had no clue what it could have been from. He moved on. Asking felt invasive and a step too far.
"It's been like this since I was little, so don't feel too bad for me. It's life. It doesn't care for things like me." That embittered voice spoke with sobs dancing at the edge of it, filling Azrael with a raging whirlpool of emotion in response. "Never has."
My actions to protect him have been useless, even after all these years. All of this happened under my watch and I thought I was doing good. Azrael's left eye twitched as his emotions threatened to spill out. Unsurprisingly, considering how he had so diligently paid attention to him for nearly a decade, he was a weak man when it came to this rabbit, his discipline struggling to keep him together. "I'm… sorry that this has happened to you. While it is done, I can ease your pain now."
"I already gave you permission to perform your medical treatments." Azrael could hear Pavel's confusion, pain and annoyance in each of his words and his heart was tugged. "Why ask anyway? I'm used to people not caring what I want."
Azrael ignored his biting comment at the end, knowing he was just angry at the world, not at him specifically. It still stung, though, branding the fingertips that touched Pavel's skin as dirty and obtrusive. "Well, it isn't orthodox and doctor's don't use it. It's not dangerous, just unstudied."
"Huh?"
"My… sub-species have regenerative abilities. Extremely potent. If I put any fluid my body can produce on someone's wound, it will heal in minutes. Is that acceptable?" Azrael looked up now to meet Pavel's eyes briefly to show his sincerity, that he wasn't poking fun or trying to enact some strange desire on him. Everything Azrael did was a question, a hope that he didn't frighten the man before him, scared he would shatter if he spoke or breathed or looked at him too hard.
All Pavel did was nod but the puzzled look in his eyes concerned Azrael, staring at him with his head tilted slightly. Azrael nodded back he spoke, yet another nervous question, "Saliva or blood?"
"What's the difference?"
"Blood is messy. It can damage me but it is more effective. Saliva is cleaner and carries no risk. Far less potent so the body still scars." Azrael explained himself briefly because he knew it would probably confuse Pavel if he went into the complexities of these healing properties. Even Azrael couldn't claim to understand it at all. "So?"
"Saliva. I don't care about scars on this body. It doesn't belong to me anyway." Pavel lurched forward, his fingers suddenly pressing themselves against Azrael's lips. Stunned from the aggressive contact, Azrael's mouth dropped open slightly and he tried to wiggle his fingers into the gap. "Let's make this quick."
Pulling himself out of his confusion, Azrael yanked his head back and gripped Pavel's wrists in his hands deftly. He resolved himself to take control of the situation so it didn't get further out of hand. "That's not the best way to go about this. Hold still."
Before Azrael allowed Pavel to do something else inadvisable, he moved his arms out of the way and leaned forward so his nose touched his ribs and the tips of Azrael's horns grazed the underside of Pavel's chin. He breathed in sharply as Azrael's forked tongue poked out of his mouth and ran it along the length of an open wound. It was still oozing blood, the gash nowhere close to wanting to heal yet, so Azrael's mouth was filled with the rich, intoxicating taste of blood. I should go hunting, I think.
Azrael waited for Pavel to push him away for a few seconds, but his hands didn't move from where they had fallen to the bed. This was taken as him agreeing to Azrael's actions so he continued.
Making several passes over the wounds on both sides of Pavel's ribs, Azrael then moved on to the small grazes and scrapes littering the rest of his torso. Pulling away for a moment, he spoke in a guttural tone as the blood thickly coated his throat. "Turn around so I can check your back."
The man didn't resist or protest, simply spinning around in his seated position so the tanned expanse of his back faced him. Azrael hissed in annoyance at the overlapping mess of scars on Pavel's back. Who used whips on him? Son of a bitch, I'll kill them.
The cloying taster of blood was addling Azrael's brain, but he realised that he had likely already killed the bastard who had done that to Pavel. Huffing in satisfaction, Azrael greeted the few open wounds on Pavel's back with the wet muscle of his tongue. Savouring the fleeting taste of Pavel's life essence, Azrael came back to his senses, swallowed once, and stood up, receding away from him slowly. Azrael's breath shook as he realised how he'd behaved, what he had done without thinking.
"Shit. I should have warned you that it can be intense. I'm sorry." Azrael crossed his arms tightly against his torso, curling his talons into his sides, on the cusp of drawing blood. It had been a long, long time since he had last performed that action on someone and those were specific memories he would rather leave to the depths of his mind. His grasp on his discipline was slipping. "I… forgot the effect that blood can have on me. I'm sorry. Are you alright?"