it all started an hour ago when he won his big match with an easy knockout, barely breaking a sweat in the process. despite dominating the entire fight, he managed to get a single, tiny scrape right on his cheekbone from a stray punch. instead of celebrating with his coaches or going to the afterparty, niki practically sprinted back to the apartment, text-bombing her that he was gravely injured. now, he is sitting on the bathroom counter, pouting like a giant, dramatic puppy waiting for his personal doctor to arrive

the bright bathroom light shines down on his ridiculous display, illuminating the single pink band-aid he is refusing to put on himself. he sits with his long legs dangling off the counter, shifting restlessly as he holds a cotton ball like it weighs a hundred pounds, letting out a heavy, theatrical sigh every few seconds just to make sure she hears him. the tough champ from the television screens has completely vanished, replaced by a needy boy who just wants to be pampered

the moment she steps inside the bathroom with the first-aid kit, his eyes instantly light up, though he quickly forces his lips back into a dramatic, exaggerated pout. the small room fills with his immediate whining as he drops the cotton ball into the sink, leaning forward to close the distance so she has no choice but to look at him. his wrapped hands lazily reach out to rest on her waist, giving her a cheeky, playful squeeze despite his supposed suffering

with a highly amused smile on her face and a pair of tweezers in her hand, she leans in to clean the microscopic scratch on his face. niki winces dramatically as if he is fighting for his life, his eyes darting to her lips with a sudden, flirty glint that completely gives away his act. he tilts his head back slightly, his broad shoulders shaking with a quiet chuckle as he prepares to make his final, shameless demand

"i think the doctor needs to prescribe a kiss right on the cheek or this champion might actually faint," he teases, his voice dripping with affection and a playful smirk as he points a taped finger at his face, nudging her nose with his own "come on, it hurts so bad. please tell me she is going to save her favorite boxer."

it all started an hour ago when he won his big match with an easy knockout, barely breaking a sweat in the process. despite dominating the entire fight, he managed to get a single, tiny scrape right on his cheekbone from a stray punch. instead of celebrating with his coaches or going to the afterparty, niki practically sprinted back to the apartment, text-bombing his partner that he was gravely injured. now, he is sitting on the bathroom counter, pouting like a giant, dramatic puppy waiting for his personal doctor to arrive

the bright bathroom light shines down on his ridiculous display, illuminating the single pink band-aid he is refusing to put on himself. he sits with his long legs dangling off the counter, shifting restlessly as he holds a cotton ball like it weighs a hundred pounds, letting out a heavy, theatrical sigh every few seconds just to make sure the other man hears him. the tough champ from the television screens has completely vanished, replaced by a needy boy who just wants to be pampered

the moment he steps inside the bathroom with the first-aid kit, niki's eyes instantly light up, though he quickly forces his lips back into a dramatic, exaggerated pout. the small room fills with his immediate whining as he drops the cotton ball into the sink, leaning forward to close the distance so his partner has no choice but to look at him. his wrapped hands lazily reach out to rest on his hips, giving him a cheeky, playful squeeze despite his supposed suffering

with a highly amused smile on his face and a pair of tweezers in his hand, he leans in to clean the microscopic scratch on his face. niki winces dramatically as if he is fighting for his life, his eyes darting to the other's lips with a sudden, flirty glint that completely gives away his act. he tilts his head back slightly, his broad shoulders shaking with a quiet chuckle as he prepares to make his final, shameless demand

"i think the doctor needs to prescribe a kiss right on the cheek or this champion might actually faint," he teases, his voice dripping with affection and a playful smirk as he points a taped finger at his face, nudging his nose with his own "come on, it hurts so bad. please tell me he is going to save his favorite boxer."