Like everyone else in Vallo, Quentin had heard about the invasion of the killer mushrooms. He had done his level best to avoid them. They seemed to be mostly sticking to the areas outside of the city proper, which was good. Made them easier to avoid. He knew Eliot would probably freak out if he went out looking for them. Not that he would. He had been going from home to work and back again, without any side trips. They had done their grocery shopping before the invasion happened so there was no need to stop there.
But no matter that he tried to avoid them, the universe seemed to have other plans for Quentin Coldwater. He had taken the waypoint that got him closest to home and had made it most of the way there when he was attacked by one that looked...well it looked like a giant mushroom with a face. He was able to get off a quick attack spell before he turned to run the last few yards to the house. OF course, because he was Quentin, he managed to trip over an unseen rock, or root or something and he landed hard on his knee. "Ow FUCK!" He got himself up and hobbled the last few steps into the house.
He had not been in the house very long when Eliot walked in the door and hugged him from behind. "It was a Day! I was not entirely successful in avoiding the attack fungi." He flinched at the man's reaction and shifted to look up at him. "It just happened, Sir. I haven't exactly had time to tell you. I was on the way home and it was just suddenly there coming at me." He gestured in the general direction of the outside. "I didn't try to fight, I just distracted it long enough to run the last bit home." He stopped and looked down at the last bit. "And I tripped on the walkway. I was going to text you, but you got here before I got the chance."
Eliot wasn't sure why he felt so tired lately. Work was busy, but that was nothing new. Maybe it was because he'd told Quentin what happened back home and he worried about him, stressed over the fact that maybe he shouldn't have. There were other things, but Quentin was the most important. He could be so...fragile at times. He had such a big heart and so many big emotions.
He was glad to see home and stepped inside with a sigh. He pulled off his coat and scarf, smiling when he saw Quentin. He laid them on the couch then walked up behind him and slid his arms around him, nuzzling his neck. "Hey beautiful, how are you? How was your day?" The answer he received was not what he expected. "What? When?" He moved to stand in front of Quentin his eyes taking him in looking for any sign of injury or distress. "What happened? Did you hurt anything when you fell?" Jesus, what he'd been reading today about those damn mushrooms made him not want to leave the house. He did not need this. Quentin didn't need it.
Quentin was still running on the bit of adrenaline rush he'd gotten when that thing had attacked him so nothing hurt just yet. He held his hands out and turned them palm up. They were scraped up where he'd used them to break his fall. But he knew the worst of it would be his knee. "Scraped up a little, but I landed really hard on my knee." He was putting almost all of his weight on one leg and hadn't really realized it. "I should probably see what that looks like."
When he started to step back and away it was clear that something was wrong with his left leg. He couldn't put much weight on it and he held a hand out to Eliot for support. He made his way over to the couch and stopped there. He looked down and could see that his knee was starting to swell up a bit and he sighed before working to get his pants undone. He managed to get them down off his hips before he had to sit down. It was the only way to get a look at how bad his knee was. "Stupid skinny jeans."
Eliot looked at Quentin's scraped up palms. They could easily be taken care of. He was far more concerned about his knee. "Yes, we should." Any number of injuries could happen to a knee and clearly something was going on when Quentin reached out to him for support.
He watched Quentin work to Get his pants down before helping him sit on the couch. Eliot knelt down and carefully tugged the jeans down past Quentin's knees. "Hey, I love these skinny jeans on you." He grinned only a little before sobering up. It was more than obvious that Quentin's knee was swelling. "We should get you to a doctor. There's no telling what may have been injured in the fall. Did you have pain in it while trying to walk?"
The scrapes to his hands were the least of Quentin's worries at the moment. "You love taking them off of me, Sir." He couldn't help giving the man a wicked little grin, even if this was not the time or the place for that. He looked down at his leg and winced at the swelling. The bruising was already starting to show up. Jesus it looked bad!
"It's just my hands and my knee. I landed on it pretty hard." He shifted to bend it and made a soft sound as it bent. Not quite as far back as it could, but enough for now." I don't think it's broken or anything...probably just bruised." Now that he was home and had his pants off he wasn't sure he wanted to get them back on just to go see the doctor. HE nodded at the question and looked up at Eliot again. "Yeah it hurts if I put too much weight on it."
Eliot couldn't help grinning back at him. He was right. Just? He made a face when Quentin made a sound when he bent his knee. "You're not a doctor, Q." Looking back to his knee Elliot could see it was starting to bruise. That combined with him saying it hurt when he put a lot of weight on it left Eliot torn on what to do. He knew he should take him to go get an x-ray and have his knee checked out, but at the same time it looked okay outside of the swelling.
"You should go to a doctor, but we'll give it until tomorrow. Then I'll take you if you still have the pain and swelling." He moved to take off Quentin's shoes then carefully pulled his jeans off. "For now let's get you to your room and I'll get you some ice and aspirin." He helped Quentin stand then they carefully made their way to his room. Once Quentin was settled he headed off to the kitchen.
Quentin nodded. He wasn't a doctor, and he knew full well he should get an x-ray. There was a part of him that expected Eliot to push the issue and make him go to the doctor right then. But the man agreed to let him sleep on it and he was thankful for it. He really just wanted to stay home, put his leg up with an ice pack and hope for the best. "Yes, Sir. Thank you." He genuinely appreciated that he wasn't going to be forced to leave the house again that night. Quentin didn't try to fight the idea of getting him into bed. He felt it was enough that Eliot wasn't pushing for him to go to a doctor right then and there.
He winced once he was on his feet and leaned pretty heavily on Eliot as they made their way to his room. For once he was thankful that he had not been moved upstairs yet. Getting up the stairs would have been murder in his condition. He sat on the edge of his bed to finish getting changed into pajamas that he wouldn't feel too weird about wearing in public the next day. He knew he would not be putting jeans back on any time soon. Once he got settled and was alone in the room Quentin pulled his pants leg up to look over his knee and leg. The bruising was going to be epic he was sure. He pulled them back down and got covered up again before Eliot came back with his aspirin and ice. "Thank you, Sir." He took the pills and set the water down on his night stand in easy reach. "Do we want to order take out since it was my turn to cook?"
Eliot still had the inner battle of taking Quentin to the doctor going on as he prepared an ice pack. He should have made him go the moment he saw the swelling and knew about the pain. He'd just fallen though, right? Nothing seemed broken, but he wasn't a doctor either. He sighed and took a bottled water from the fridge then headed back to the bedroom with everything in tow.
"Here you go." He gave the aspirin to Quentin then uncapped the water and handed it to him before sitting on the edge of the bed and giving him the ice back. "I'll be right back." He stood and went to the bathroom where he go what he needed to clean the scraps on Quentin's palms and some peroxide. "Let's get your hands cleaned up. I can cook," he said as he began to attend to the scraps. "Unless you have your heart set on ordering something." He took a cotton ball and dabbed some peroxide. "I'll put some antibiotic ointment on them after you eat."
Quentin shifted a little then got the ice pack settled on his knee. He was feeling like a total idiot. He tripped over his own feet trying to run away from a fight. It might have been better if he'd actually fought the thing. Maybe he wouldn't have gotten hurt. He held his hands up for him to clean them, wincing slightly at the peroxide. It didn't hurt exactly, but it definitely stung and it was cold.
"I just didn't know if you'd want to cook after work." HE shrugged and looked up at him. "I had planned spaghetti carbonara for dinner. Nothing fancy." At least the recipe didn't look all that fancy to him. It was pretty straightforward.
Eliot blew on Quentin's palms when he winced. He couldn't do much about the sting, but at least it wasn't rubbing alcohol because ouchie. "I cook after work all the time, Q." He tossed the cotton balls into the waste basket then took things back to the bathroom. "Are you sure you want something heavy like spaghetti carbonara?" He knew when he wasn't feeling good for whatever reason something heavy on his stomach didn't usually help.
"I could make grilled cheese and soup. Or maybe chicken salad?" He thought a few moments. "Maybe omelettes. Breakfast for dinner," he grinned. Or I can make the spaghetti carbonara. Whatever you want."
Quentin watched Eliot clean his hands and smiled a little when he blew on them. Whenever Eliot did things like that for him it made him feel loved. He thought about it and nodded. He really wasn't even that hungry at the moment. He knew he needed to eat something though. "You're right, Sir. Something light." He thought about it. "Soup and grilled cheese sounds really good actually. If that's what you want?"
"Grilled cheese and soup coming up." Eliot went to grab a throw blanket then put it over Quentin carefully. He handed him the remote. "In case you want to watch something while I'm cooking or you just want some background noise." He gave him a quick kiss. "Text me if you need anything. I'll be back in a little bit."