Who: Fred and Sophie
What: Fred's still bleeding so he's gone to get fixed.
Where: Mungo's
When: 13 November
Rating: Mature (OOC I'm writing Het! Weird!)
Status: Complete


Embarrassed wasn't in Fred's dictionary; so when he returned home after the massive family lunch at The Burrow to discover his thigh was still bleeding, he decided he needed to do something about it. He wasn't sure how much blood he'd lost by that point, but he had felt odd all afternoon. The episkey had only slowed the flow, not stopping it completely and the strapping he'd wrapped round the wound had soaked up more red than he'd like to admit. He was just grateful that his jeans were black and had various impervious charms placed on them after various mishaps in the lab had destroyed too many previous pairs.

When the healer asked how he'd come by the wound, he was bluntly honest with him and expected the lecture he'd received afterwards about the risks involved in blood play. It wasn't a kink he was heavily into. He'd never cut anyone. But twice now he'd been with someone who'd cut him and got off on it. The woman last night had been incredible, so he wasn't about to refuse. Watching the healer work, he was glad when his skin finally decided to co-operate and re-knit itself, leaving an angry red welt in it's wake. "Make sure you keep it clean and in future ask him or her not to use that particular hex if you can't heal it yourself." The man taped a gauze patch to his skin and left Fred to pull his jeans back on.

Wandering from the room, Fred was buckling his belt and therefore not paying attention to where he was walking, when he bumped elbows with someone.