Check Ups || Wyatt and Zan
It was more a craving for socialization that steered Zan towards the medical bay than his face. His face, after all, had taken worst hits over the years, between starting fights in primary school and show stopping wrecks on his jetbike. His face would survive, as it always did. It was his mind and the rest of his body that had grown restless of sitting in his room and bored of waiting outside the gym for the current occupants (fighter pilots he’d been avoiding like the plague for weeks now) vacated. And after sleep had failed him, and the gym refused to empty, the next stop on his list was the medical bay and his nurse friend.
“My favorite pet name,” he laughed, slipping into the room that looked even more sterile than the all-chrome interior that coated the rest of the ship. There were few people on the ship whose company he enjoyed more than Wyatt’s. The two could go toe to toe with snark and insults that sounded more like innuendo to anyone who hadn’t gotten used to the way they spoke to each other. “How’s the hottest nurse on the ship today?”
Zan had no clue how many times he’d stripped down at the nurse’s command before someone told him that he didn’t actually have to take his shirt off to get something for a headache. Definitely more than once, probably more than a dozen times. Now he just did it to amuse both of them, though it also probably had something to do with the unholy ego he had been forced to keep under wraps in the presence of anyone but the nurse. Zan shrugged and muttered, “I know the rules,” before tugging the white tank top over his head and letting it fall into a pile on top of the examining table.
“Face is fine.” The soldier slid himself into place on the table, propping his elbows up on his knees and letting his hands dangle absently between them. “I have a mysterious superpower. The more hits I take, the more ruggedly handsome I get. See?” He turned his head to the side to let the nurse get a good look at his no longer swollen jaw.
With the careful eyes of anyone trained in medicine, Wyatt observed Zan the same way he observed anyone who came into the medical bay; with a trained and clinical stare. He might have asked due to some perverse and ridiculous nature, but his gaze was anything but sexual. Wyatt’s eyes scanned Zan’s torso in a way that suggested he was looking more for something wrong than actually enjoying the view. However, once that side of him was appeased (as it appeared Zan had no out injuries he could immediately tend to), he was able to appreciate the statuesque looking man on his stool. Zan was hardened muscle underneath dark, smooth skin, stretched over an upper body he was sure many would be as envious of as they were turned on by. He wouldn’t ever lie if anyone asked if he found Zan good looking. He was.
But he was also the closest thing Wyatt could consider a friend and using that term was so unlike him that if anyone ever had made the status before they would remark how exactly unlike him it was. But there was the issue that before Zan, Wyatt had never really gotten close to anyone like he was with the other man. Not to say he didn’t have ‘friend’s in the way people make acquaintances with others in their proximity. But he’d never had the rapport he had with Zan with anyone else. They were both all easy flirtatious lines and teasing that could overstep a line at any moment and hadn’t. He enjoyed what they had and so of course, he decided it was best to completely ignore exactly how much he enjoyed it.
“Mm,” Wyatt hummed as he ran his finger along Zan’s jawbone, feeling the way it rose out of place and swollen from the punch he’d received only days before. From the angry little pilot who seemed to swagger around like he was the best thing since self-toasting bread. Wyatt wasn’t going to take sides, even if he did favor the soldier in front of him to the pilot. They were both idiots to fight aboard a government regulated ship. “Or maybe your super secret mysterious superpower is that you have a really hard head?” The nurse teased, his lips twitching into that small smile Zan somehow brought out of him.
He swiveled on his heels to find a cabinet, rifling through it. “So if you’re fine, how come you’re here? Not that I’m not thoroughly appreciating a shirtless, good looking man.” Wyatt found what he was looking for in the form of a small, thin, blue packet. Removing it, he placed it between his hands and scrunched the material as hard as he could before tossing it to Zan. “Ice pack. One time use only, but it’ll stay cold for hours. Figure it’ll help bring the swelling down some more. Plus, it’s so fucking cool, right?” He joked, leaning against the table next to Zan.
