I had to improvise because this thing was written before I remembered what the prompt was. if it feels like it doesn't really fit, that's the reason. my sincerest apologies. I hope you still enjoy it ❤
Luke curses at the sharp pain shooting up his arm, the knife clattering to the kitchen counter as he pushes his bleeding thumb into his mouth; it’s not a big or deep cut, but it still hurts like a bitch.
“Shit, Lukey, are you okay?” Dawson asks, concern lacing his voice at the prospect of Luke having a more serious injury.
With one last lick, he removes his thumb and looks it over, pressing at the red skin to make sure there’s no more blood coming out, before telling his boyfriend, “I’m good, I think. But you should kiss it better, to make sure.”
The concern on Dawson’s face morphs into playfulness as he steps closer to Luke, wraps an arm around his waist, grabs his wrist and presses a lingering kiss to the cut on his thumb, never breaking eye contact.
“Anything else I need to kiss better?” he teases, not even hesitating to lean in when Luke just grins and points at his mouth.