Five Finger Death Punch

Chapter Twenty-Two: Bruised

There was a knock on the door.

Chris and Ivan glanced at each other and the singer could feel the hint of censure present in the other man’s eyes. The bassist walked to the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open with reluctant purpose to reveal Zoltan standing in a pair of smooth pajama pants and an undershirt.

“Hey,” the guitarist said, “Are you guys alright?” He leaned to the side to see behind him and observed the singer with a curious eye, probably in search of some kind of damage. He then checked the man before him for the same.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Chris sighed.

“Really?” Zoltan cocked his eyebrows. “Because it sounded like you two were killing each other. Jason and I could hear you like you were in the same room as us.”

“We’re good,” he repeated, “Just go back to bed.”

“Al—right,” he said slowly, turning a bit and looking back at Ivan who had his arms crossed and his head down. “Everything okay with you all? I’ve noticed that you all hadn’t been speaking much for a while now.”

“We’re good, Zoltan,” Chris said with a touch more intensity, “We’ll handle ourselves.”

“Okay!” He made a subduing motion with his hands, “Just keep it down, alright? You guys probably woke the whole hotel.”

Chris promptly shut the door on him.

Ivan made a “chh” sound like he was cracking up and smiled at the older man, but the smile fell off his face when the expression wasn’t returned.

“What?”

Chris shook his head.

“Are you still mad at me?” He asked softly.

The older man avoided the question and asked, “You ready for bed?”

Ivan stared at him quietly for a second. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Before they laid down, Ivan noticed Chris touch his face and he saw the bruise forming by his eye. His shoulders sunk and he approached him, and gently touched the spot in an unspoken apology. He then took one of his thick hands and rubbed the knuckles in between his thumb and forefinger for a second before he and the other man climbed into bed together. Without being asked, Chris wrapped himself around him as the big spoon and they laid in the quiet darkness, listening to their shallow breaths, the buzzing of the air conditioning, and the very soft drone of human life throughout the hotel.