"Relax," sounds like a command. It also sounds ominous. As in, Relax, or you're not going to get what you want.
Bruce digs his fingers into a pressure point near Constantine's shoulder, high on his chest, jolting nerves that span over his pecs and ribcage. Shaking out tension. It'll hurt, like schoolyard kids punching each other in the arm to deaden sensation, but not go numb. Bruce rubs over it a moment later, encouraging bloodflow. The bindings around him are too well-placed to interfere with circulation, but Bruce can always do it manually. Like so.
He scrapes his hands down, pressing around where the other man's skin is pinned, then back up. One hand loosely around his throat again, but this time he waits.
Bruce nudges his face up against John's, holds him against his chest, breathes. Waits there, doing nothing else. Shakes him a little to get him to draw breath in deep, and let it out. Come on.
no subject
Bruce digs his fingers into a pressure point near Constantine's shoulder, high on his chest, jolting nerves that span over his pecs and ribcage. Shaking out tension. It'll hurt, like schoolyard kids punching each other in the arm to deaden sensation, but not go numb. Bruce rubs over it a moment later, encouraging bloodflow. The bindings around him are too well-placed to interfere with circulation, but Bruce can always do it manually. Like so.
He scrapes his hands down, pressing around where the other man's skin is pinned, then back up. One hand loosely around his throat again, but this time he waits.
Bruce nudges his face up against John's, holds him against his chest, breathes. Waits there, doing nothing else. Shakes him a little to get him to draw breath in deep, and let it out. Come on.