Work Text:
In the distance, he could hear the bustle, the celebrations, but he was too focused on the writings he was reading. There, hidden away in that safehouse on the outskirts of the city, he distracted himself from the feeling lodged deep inside of him. He had told Bell once that if he was to be part of his team, he had to make sure to rest well… and to drink lots of coffee. Today, he was taking his own advice too seriously, opting to stay up in order to ignore what his body was announcing – whether it was the tiredness or the bothersome feelings that resurfaced with such fervor during festive days.
It was a great distraction, to feel that he had a job to do, to hear the world enjoy itself as he observed it behind the scenes, as he made sure to keep it secure. The secret service, always at the forefront, always observant, always—
CLANK! Followed by a sudden rain of glass.
It took him less than a second to raise his head and understand what had happened. Bell had arrived, he had made enough noise already before, but Adler had ignored it, – so engrossed in his paperwork – he brought a bottle of champagne with him with two glasses… And one of those three things fell to the floor. Sadly, it had been the bottle of champagne Adler assumed Bell wanted to share with him.
Bell observed him, waiting for a reply or a more prominent reaction, but Adler remained quiet… In silence, he walked towards the other, stepping on top of even the glass shards on the floor. He takes Bell’s hand and walks him over to the small room that was usually closed. He opens the door, takes a bag out of it and walks out, sitting Bell on one of the nearby seats. He, in turn crouches over in front of him.
“Aren’t you going to scold me?” Bell asks in a low voice, his gaze just as low, situated in the bloodied hand that the older one was holding against his own two. Enthralled by the procedure, Adler takes off his glasses and places them on the table where the utensils he was going to use were. Soon, he started cleaning the blood with an alcohol wipe. A small grunt comes out of the younger man, who, in turn, starts observing those uncovered blue eyes – it wasn’t usual for Adler to expose himself like that, so Bell made sure to pay intense attention to every small action of his.
“I’m not going to scold you… It’s almost the new year.” He answered in a whisper, as if that would help the other get better. In the distance, as the blood continued to pour, the detonation of pyrotechnics called to both their attention. Despite that, Adler did not stop looking at Bell’s wounds… and Bell did not stop looking at him. “They’re pretty ones this year. The fireworks.”
“Did you manage to see some of them?” Bell asked, confused.
“Yes. Right here.” Adler’s thumb put pressure directly on the deepest wound, causing Bell to whimper yet again, but soon he smiled as he witnessed the other wrapping up that drowning crimson in bandages of pure white along with his strong and warm touch.
“Yes,... they’re pretty ones this year.”