His Woods (MxM)

25 Tyson Tends to Jack

After Jack declines my thousand suggestions to take him to the hospital, we arrive back at the cabin. It's the first time in months that I drove a motor vehicle and part of me is a little giddy with the idea that it is Greyson; though, I wish the circumstances were a bit different.

Jack and I crash in through the kitchen door and I lead him toward the fridge.

"Get any frozen products you can out of the freezer, I will go and get the first aid kit from under the bathroom sink." I take off up the stairs in a flash.

I get back to the kitchen and find Jack standing shirtless at the sink, his back to me, holding frozen peas on his face. I pause to take the whole picture in. The moonlight coming in from the window dances on his broad shoulders. The line of puncture wounds up his back keeps me from getting hot and bothered.

"Okay, Rocky. Let's assess the damage."

I flip the switch for the fluorescent bulb and it wavers then pops on. He turns to me, and to my surprise, his wounds don't look too bad in the kitchen light. Other than the peas on his right eye and the dried blood that has crusted above his left, a small gash on his neck that bled into his chest hair, he looks relatively okay.

"Wow. You are going to have some bumps and bruises, but it looks like you will be fine."

"Can't say I have been in a bar fight recently. Once I hit thirty, I tried to mark that activity off my list."

I smile as I dab some alcohol on a few sheets of gauze. I step in close enough to smell Jacks musk. It is a mix of metallic blood, hoppy beer, and the strangely sweet earthy smell of perspiration. From behind him, I lift his massive left arm to better attack the cuts on his side. The cause looks like a row of barbed wire.

"This may sting," I warn without giving him any time to get ready for the alcohol before I start wiping at his wounds. I get no reaction.

I reposition myself to his side to better get the last two holes that have curves around right above his hip. 

"I can't get to the last ones with you pants on," I start, but he doesn't wait.

His pants flop to the ground and he is now standing before me in only his briefs. 

Ignoring his drool-worthy package, I lead his arm to rest on my shoulder. My head is hovering in Jack's armpit, as I get to cleaning his wounds. While wiping the last one clean, I realize that my left hand is resting on his hard, hairy stomach partially on skin under his belly button and half on the thin fabric of the front of his underwear. I know my palm is resting in his cloth-covered pubic hair and only millimeters away from his prize. Why didn't he say anything? 

A surge of heat runs through me. My heart skips a beat. I casually remove my hand even though I want to give his sausages a pull. Before the situation can get any more awkward, Jack breaks the silence.

"Why did you come back?"

I tape some dry gauze to the final lacerations.

Pretending to be caught up in my doctoring it let out an "Um."

"Well. I guess I woke up this morning and realized I was missing something. I hung out with Sean. We slept together. But I realized he wasn't ready for me. He wasn't ready to be who he was with me. It really made me think that there wasn't anything there for me anymore. That the Sean chapter of my life is over."

I walk over to the sink and soak a dish towel. I ring it out and walk back over to Jack. Grabbing his chin, I start wiping off the blood so I can see what needs further attention. He puts the frozen peas down in the sink.