"Thanks." Jason gave you a small smile as you cleaned the cuts on his chest and the scrapes on his knuckles. You smiled back, digging into the first aid bag for the bandages you 'borrowed' from the hospital.

He admired you while you helped him, your scrubs still on from work. He hated having to ask you to help after you worked all day, but he reveled in the small, intimate moment. With him seated on the edge of your bathtub, still in half of his tactical gear with his shirt off, you standing between his legs. Your gentle care made his heart flutter, the tender way you wiped the warm cloth over his injuries caused butterflies he's never felt with anyone but you.

Not that he could ever admit that. He was content with being around you, and he would never forgive himself if he ruined the friendship.

"You know, I think a kiss would make everything better," he teased, a cheeky grin on his face. "Maybe more than one, of course." He just smirked as you rolled your eyes at him. "C'mon, darlin'," he drawled.

You gently placed a large bandage over a cut on his chest, ignoring his flirtations. He just tried harder. "Fine, just one kiss would help." He barked out a laugh as you smacked his arm. "Violent. I like it."