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It was his hands mostly. They were in excruciating pain, despite the meds he was sure were being pumped into him via the IV attached to his wrist. There were other areas affected, of course. His chest, his right thigh, his arms, up to his elbow on the left and up to his shoulder on his right. They all hurt, but nothing hurt quite so much as his hands. He couldn't move them, couldn't bend the fingers at all, though the bandages would have made that difficult anyways. All he could do was sit, quietly, with his jaw clenched, with his eyes closed, trying desperately to think of something else, to ignore the pain that Trynt assured him he could take away given time.

His face, thankfully, was fairly unaffected. It felt sunburned more then anything, and indeed, his cheeks were quite rosy, as was his forehead, and his lips felt quite chapped and dry, but otherwise...okay. He hadn't lost his other eye, anyways, and to him that was at least a bit of a win.

His breathing was erratic, a dead give away of how very much it hurt, and when a familiar voice cut through the fog of pain and morphine, he flinched, his eye opening just slightly, his head turning slowly to see who spoke to him. <******** you, a**-face." He hissed, his voice raspy, and his usual facade of calm coldness gone for the moment at least, replaced by heavy amounts of irritation and anger at pretty much everything. "You don't look any better, in or out of here."

Finn snorted at Ian's retort, and feeling quite uncomfortable how he was currently laying, attempted to adjust himself by wiggling in his bed a tiny bit, attempting to take pressure away from some area's that hurt more then others, though he soon found out it was pointless to even try, as everything hurt to some extent.

"I would flip you the bird if I currently could, jack-a**, but just know that I'm picturing doing it in my mind instead." He answered, his lips pressing into a firm line as he realized that he wouldn't even be able to adjust his bed so that he could sit up, considering his position.

"NURSE!" He called out, to nobody in particular, though he was sure some lifer was hanging around nearby checking on somebodies stats. "A little ******** help, here!?" Of course, it wouldn't do to actually be polite of all things.

And then back to Ian. Finn realized, after a moments thought, that he hadn't really seen the man much lately, if at all. He wondered what had been keeping him so busy, if he had been out on missions, or if he was just spending too much time rolling around in bed with Shiloh.

Hell, Finn knew which one he would pick if he had that choice.

His thoughts temporarily dislodged by Ian's comment, Finn calmly retorted, his face taking on it's typical cool look as he tried desperately to ignore how much he hurt.

"I'm pretty sure the explosion is supposed to happen afterwards, not before. We seem to be going about this a bit backwards...maybe we should try it again sometime, do it the right way, hrm?"

No lifer came running to Finn's aid, which he could only assume meant that they were too busy tending to other, perhaps more serious candidates to their attentions. A long sigh through his nose, and Finn was watching with mild jealousy as the other man managed to sit up.

What Ian could do, Finn could do.

Moving his arms was painful, but he did it anyways, teeth clenched tight as he pushed himself up. His nerves screamed at him in agony as he did so, and when he was finished, he was breathing quite heavily, gasping in air through his mouth despite his best efforts.

But it did feel better. Remotely, at least.

He didn't bother trying to turn his body. That just wasn't about to ******** happen right now.

"Oh wow, the enthusiasm you're displaying is almost sickening." He replied with a dry tone, his own eye rolling in return. Nausea from the waves of pain were nearly overwhelming him, and now he was desperately attempting to keep himself from upchucking, when Ian's next comment filtered through.

A small smirk was the only reply the other man would get for a time, and then, a few long seconds after wards.

"What girlfriend?"

He thought, for one brief moment, about telling the truth. He could have told Ian that he did it because he was no good for her, that it was a relationship doomed from the start and he had asked for it to end before he could hurt her, like he knew he would, like he was always so tempted to do.

But where would be the fun in that?

He shrugged his shoulders, and immediately regretted the motion, a flinch from the pain flickering at the corner of his eye before he managed to compose himself again.

That smirk never left his lips, however.

"What can I say? She just wasn't doing it for me anymore, so I decided I needed a change." He glanced around, as well as he could with one eye and without really moving too much, licking too dry lips as he tried not to think about how thirsty he was.

"But how about you, jerk-off? Still happily trapped in domestic bliss with your butt buddy?"

Finn's smirk turned into a knowing smile as Ian guessed at the real truth, and failed. He debated whether or not to leave it at that, though. It wasn't like he gave a s**t over how anybody may have believed things went down. Hell, unless he had recorded evidence, he doubted many would believe what had actually happened. No terrible fight, no argument set off by one tiny misconception that got blown out if proportion. No tears, no anger, no resentment between them. Just a mutual decision, one that ended in them stil being friends.

"Yes, exactly. How ever did you figure it out?" No shits given. Ian could believe whatever the ******** he wanted. It wasn't like Finn owed him any truths, anyways, after barely speaking to each other in what felt like months.

Ian's flinch went for the most part unnoticed as Finn continued to look around. It wasn't until he heard the other man slide off of his bed did he turn his head slightly to look back at him, surprised to see a glass of water being held out towards him.

"Aw thanks, sweetheart!" He held up his bandaged hands, "But no ******** thanks." He was thirsty, but like hell he was going to make an a** out of himself, likely by spilling water all over the place in a feeble attempt at holding on to the glass.

At the proclamation of singleness by the other man, however, Finn found himself caring less about quenching his thirst as instead his interest became piqued by this new little tidbit of information. "Oh?" He asked, tone bland, eye cold.

"Why?"

"I'll have you know that my s**t is perfectly in order, ********, thanks." The same dry tone he usually spoke with was making it's triumphant return.

Eyeing the glass in front of him, he was about to refuse for a second time, when he found a hand going around the back of his neck. Thankfully, that area was not burned, so it didn't hurt, but not so thankfully, he now had a glass pressed to his lips, and he couldn't even really struggle to get away from it without what he was sure would be an overwhelming amount of pain.

"......There better be vodka in there then." He muttered, before finally giving in and taking a long drink, or at least, as long as Ian let him have. Cool water slid down his throat, moistened his mouth, and when the glass was gone, he slid his tongue over his dried lips.

Finn watched the other man carefully when he asked him his question, noted the movement, the dark look before the head shake. Whatever the reason, Ian was not happy about it, but soon he was back to giving away almost nothing.

But he wasn't one to pry. Instead, he smirked. "So we're both back to being single, then. Maybe now I should take you up, rather belatedly, on that offer to cuddle you gave me a long while back."

He was probably joking.

It was not easy to ignore how Ian's hand kept it's place at the back of his neck, the motion almost too familiar considering they had barely spoken in ages, and had only ever teased each other without it ever straying into anything more then just that. There were reasons, of course. Finn was sure that they had both been preoccupied with their own separate conquests to pay each other much mind. And even without that...who really knew. It wasn't anything he had given thought to before. He'd had no reason to give it thought.

But just that bare touch, that light brush the short hair at the back of Finn's neck. That was enough to make Finn think about it a little more seriously. Especially when Ian moved in closer to Finn's bedside, and then closer still, though even then he was torn on whether or not the other man was just playing some kind of mind game. Finn wouldn't put it past him..he would't put anything past Ian that he knew he would probably do himself if given the chance.

Finn kept his cold gaze locked on Ian's, that single eye not faltering, not flickering away for even a second. His smirk only grew when Ian curled a finger into the front of his shirt, smiling, though it was a smile Finn could not read.

"I would say, it's about ******** time." Finn answered in a silky tone, though there was no hint of lust in his gaze. There never was. Just that cold calm that always resided there.

"Though this is an odd time and place to be propositioning me, I have to say."