@tealias : "you didn't need to step in like that." / sully
the dry laugh is entirely involuntary and he immediately pays the price. the pain jolts through his body and he lets his head fall back against the wall with an almost concerning loud thud. didn't need to - like it was planned. or even chivalry. like he left any room for hesitation long enough that he might actually have stopped himself. like he does not know how senselessly stupid and, frankly, borderline embarrassing the whole ordeal had been. like he would not be crimson with shame at how humiliating this whole thing truly was if his blood wasn't too busy dripping out of his nose. he sits with his head tilted back only briefly before he remembers you're not supposed to do that and immediately leans forward again, forearms on his elbows and shoulders slightly hunched. because he's in pain and because he does not want to look at sullivan while he waits for what is surely about to come. he will tease him. he will certainly point out how truly pathetic he is at fighting and he will, rightfully, laugh at him. he'd care more, perhaps, if the throbbing wasn't doing its utmost to make it impossible forming coherent thoughts.
"he was a fucking prick." he wonders if it's even audible with how he tries to wipe at the blood with the hem of his own shirt - it's ruined anyway, might as well make some use of it. and it's true. finn can count on one hand the amount of times he's actually gotten into a physical fight which, given how much he enjoys verbal ones and how truly energetic he can get in those, just shows how lucky he's been in the past. this time, though, it was well earned, even with finn's initial lack of personal involvement. in fact, it was almost an accident he'd overheard it to begin with. a dig at sullivan, something finn initially interpreted as flirty banter between the pair, followed up by something that dug so deep, was so personal, he barely gave sully - the one it was aimed at - any time to react before he threw a punch. and yes, in hindsight he could've handled it a lot more maturely but it felt good . it felt satisfying hearing the faint crunch, it felt fucking exhilarating seeing the shocked expression, the glimpse of crimson, hearing the gasp. and the brief second he caught sight of sully, staring in utter disbelief and something that almost read as wonder, twisted something in his stomach that felt so thrilling he would've probably chased that feeling with a second punch had the recovery of his opponent not been so swift and his fist perhaps a little less hard. after that? a blur. and now finn wishes he'd been hit harder as to not having to remember any of it. he doubts looking at sully will feel much like a thrill now. then again, perhaps dying of shame will be a quick way to go and he will not have to endure whatever jokes the other is cooking up for long.
"i've got this, palone, you can go back. 's just my nose! might add some character if it heals a bit crooked." he prays he won't make him explain. won't ask why. won't force finn to ponder a question he himself is trying to avoid. hopes he'll only laugh. "i doubt he was the best you can do. weak knuckles. and it..." it's almost subconscious, the way he presses down on his nose harder with his shirt, tries to focus on the pain instead of what he's about to say. "it wasn't okay. what he said to you. so yeah, i did need to step in like that."