a/n: finally got around to finish this draft good lord it has been in a wip for a while
summary: ross gets into a bar fight and you take him home to clean him up, but all he wanted to do was protect you.
cw: fighting, age gap mention, blood, cursing
minors do not interact, all fics are 18+.
you almost vomit at the sight of this guy.
“whats a pretty girl like you doin’ all alone?” a man says, getting way too close for your liking.
you weren’t in the mood to be nice. “uh what the hell-? get off me,” you shove him as hard as you could, knocking him into a few people behind him. half of his drink spills onto the floor and you’re not sorry about it in the least. “idiot,” you mumble.
“come on sweetheart.” he laughs as he grabs your arm, bony fingers gripping onto your skin.
ross is next to you in an instant, and you wonder for a split second how he got here so fast.
“touch her again and your face hits the floor next.”
“yeah? and who are you, her dad?”
oh god, you think.
you hear ross’ fist makes contact with the guy’s face and you squint, hearing people gasp at your boyfriend’s actions. it’s a whirlwind of fists hitting faces and pushing and shoving in an instant —you’re sure someone’s night is going to end in the hospital.
onlookers smile and watch the show as punches swing, one landing particularly hard on the other guys’ face.
“ross, stop!” you try.
the sounds of bodies thudding against walls and knocking over a table or two fill the room, then replaced by rowdy shouting— luckily the bartender shouted something at both parties, and now you and ross were making your way back to the car.
***
you sigh at the cabinet as you feel his eyes from behind you. of course ross’ actions came from good intentions, but he went over the top. dramatically. like a blinding marquee with seven different colors dramatic.
you take a look at him, noting his lower lip that’s busted and swollen, accompanied with a bruised eye. it’s yellow and turning green, with a few cuts in his face. ross jolts a little when the plastic first aid kit slams the counter.
“you alright?” he asks, voice rough and thick with hearing your answer.
a half-hearted laugh leaves you, “your lip is bleeding and you’re asking if I’m okay?”
he nods, “mhmm.”
the flat is quiet, a certain buzz between you two that you can’t quite figure. tension? possessiveness? care? you weren’t sure.
“hold still.”
ross softly hisses at the wet towel that makes contact with his lip. he watches as you dab his lip slowly, the pain being replaced with an odd sense of consideration. your hands are shaking, eyes focused on his wounds, but he knows your mind is in another place.
“I didn’t know if he was gonna hurt you.” he admits defensively.
you pulling back as you fidget with the towel in your hands, eyes flickering between him and your hands. “i can handle that sort of stuff myself.”
“just don’t want you to feelin’ unsafe with me around. ever.”
ross didn’t really have a temper, but when it came to you he would say or do whatever to protect you, and tonight proved that.
“I’m sorry, love.”
“it’s okay,” you say truthfully.
ross softly smiles, pulling you close to him. his hands are warm in your hips, steady and firm, lips close to yours.
there’s a softness behind his eyes now, a hint of admiration and longing. he lingers there for a moment, cupping the side of your cheek.
that unknown feeling is gone now, the annoyance, fear, and small amount of anger even.
he gently presses his lips to yours, and it’s warm and comforting. he presses your body close together, tighter, and a slightly painful noise to catch in his throat. you pull back in concern, but he holds you close.
“sorry.” you say.
he winces, like the word reminded him of every action that dented his face. his fingers lightly presses the scar underneath his eye, and a small gasp leaves you.
“ross,” you lean away for a moment, concern in every edge of your face, “your hands.”
he stretches them out, skin broken and dried blood staining his knuckles. ross watches as you wipe the back of his hands, gentle and soft. it aches, but the fact that you’re the one cleaning him up makes it all the better.
so do u think ross was born with a cunty little chin-bob or was his hair fully grown? and what was the beard situation like?
i like to think that it was a rapunzel (rosspunzel?) situation where he came out of the womb with that cunty little bob and it just never stopped growing. he only buzzed it because he was going through an identity crisis 💔
as for the beard... i think we've figured out that ross had a major growth spurt in his late teens (he used to be the same height as adam... obviously that's no longer the case). i don't think he came out of the womb with any facial hair but then puberty hit him like a train to make up for it 🥰
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