Ragged breaths left Noir as he ungracefully landed on the floor of his bathroom. He turned and shut the window he had climbed through with a low hiss of pain. Blood splattered onto the grey floor as he stumbled out of the room.
Pain clouded Noir's brain as he ripped the knife, which was embedded in his shoulder, out. It was then that he made eye contact with Miles.
0000
"Shit," Miles said, eyes widening when he saw the bright red liquid ooze from Noir's shoulder. The knife in the black and white man's hand wasn't all that good of a sign either. "Why the hell did you pull that out?! You need to put pressure ag-," he cut himself off, shaking his head as he raced into the kitchen.
Noir let out a wheeze and caught himself on his couch, just before he collapsed to the ground. He pulled his mask off before clutching at his bloodied shoulder just as Miles reentered the room with a medical kit in hand.
"Peter, sit down. You're too tall for me to reach your shoulder comfortably, and your legs are gonna give out on you," Miles said, voice both sharp and soft at the same time. He must have learned that from his mother, Noir mused.
As instructed, Noir sat down on the couch with a ragged cough. He tasted blood in his mouth, but he couldn't decide if it was real or just his imagination.
Miles was saying something. Peter tried to focus on him, but pain shot threw his arm, and he only clutched tigher at his injury. Miles gently grabbed his arm and pulled it away from the wound.
The next hour or so was a blurr. Noir tried to keep himself awake and aware, but kept nodding off, only to startle himself awake, usually scaring Miles in the process as well. By the time the kid was actually satisfied with his patch job, he looked exhausted.
"This is not what I came here to do," He mumbled, sitting down on the couch next to Noir.
"Sorry," Peter said, voice quiet and shaky. "'M r'lly sorry."
Miles looked over at the detective with concern as he rested his head against the other man's non-injured shoulder. "It's fine. It's not like you knew I was coming."
"Mm." Noir stiffened slightly at the contact, but eventually relaxed into it. He wanted to give Miles a hug, but the boy really didn't need any more of his blood on him.
"So, I'm guessing you know the color red pretty well, huh?" Miles shut his eyes, absentmindedly using a wet cloth to clean his hands.
"Yeah. Told ya that before."
"I know. But, red isn't always used for pain, you know. It can mean happy things as well."
"Like what?" Noir raised a brow as he closed his eyes.
"Love. It can also mean determination," Miles replied.
"Ah."
They sat in silence for a while. Miles was fairly positive Noir had fallen asleep after the man had titled his head so that it rested against Miles'. But, eventually Noir cracked open an eye.
"Miles?" His voice was so quiet that Miles had almost thought he had imagined it.
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
"Love you too, Peter."