Secondhand

I woke up in the morning and tried to stretch, but found myself restricted by two strong arms. Panic fluttered in my chest briefly before I realized it was just Shayley. I felt so bad about waking him up because of a nightmare. It hadn't returned though, thank god.

I felt Shayley stir and his eyes opened. At the same time, a door slammed shut.

“Must be my roommate, at last.”

Shay helped me to stand and I found that I could walk a little better, at least on my own. We walked out into the living room, finding it empty.

“You can just sit on the couch and watch TV or something. Odds are, he's mad at me for not going to see his band.”

He sighed as he left the room and I picked up the remote from next to me. I slowly flipped through the channels. There wasn't much on, so I settled for Doctor Who. My mind drifted away from the scenes on the screen. Shayley's roommate was in a band. What if he was the guy from the curb? Or, what if it was Damon? No. Shayley is gay and Damon's a homophobe. Plus, I doubt Shay would live with an asshole like that anyways.

In case it was the guy from the bar, I tried my best to fix my hair with my hand, but I knew it was pretty much pointless. I needed a shower desperately. I turned my attention back to Doctor Who and waited for Shayley to come back.

I didn't have to wait long. About five minutes later he emerged from the other room.

“Well, I was right. He's pissed at me. Eh. He'll get over it. You'll probably get to meet him later because he just went to sleep.”

“I really need to get home, though. I haven't showered in like, two days.”

“You can shower here. I'm not letting you go home when you're still in such bad shape. Here, I'll go get you some towels and you can just borrow some of my clothes.”

“Thanks,” I said, with a sincere smile.

I didn't want to leave. I liked being around Shayley, but I also really wanted to find out if my suspicions were right about his roommate. Shayley came back from his room with a brown towel, a black t-shirt, and a pair of jeans.

“Probably not as tight as you're used to, but these are the smallest jeans I've got. The bathroom's through that door.”

I laughed and took everything from him, murmured thanks, and went in the direction he had pointed. Once I was was in front of a mirror, I cringed. There were dark bruises on my cheekbones and my eye was still slightly bruised. I pulled my shirt from my torso and cringed again. Bruises laid there as well, joined by the color of my tattoos. My legs looked no better. I was basically a walking bruise. Sighing, I turned on the water and waited for it to turn warm.
~

When I emerged from the bathroom, feeling better just because I was clean, I smelled food being cooked. I poked my head in the kitchen to see only Shayley. His roommate must still be asleep.

“Hey. Feel any better?”

“Much.”

“I hope you like pancakes and scrambled eggs.”

“Yep. I'm not really picky.”

“You could turn picky really fast living with Shay. He's a vegetarian. But I doubt you knew that if you're nothing more than a fuck to him. Which I'm assuming you are.”

I spun around to face a familiar man. I had been right. He was the guy from the bar.

“Woah. You must like it really rough if you've got bruises.”

“Fuck off, Austin. I was going to your gig when I saw him being attacked by some guys.”

Austin. His name was Austin. It suited him.

“So you didn't fuck him?” He directed his question to me.

“Leave Alan alone, Aus.”

“Since when are you so uptight?”

“Since you're being a dick to someone you don't even know.”

As he finished his sentence, a phone rang from behind him.

“Is it mine?” Austin asked.

“Is that your ring tone? No. Plus, no one calls you because you're grumpy and mean.”

Austin rolled his eyes and sat across from me at the table.

“Be quiet. You know which one of you I'm talking to. It's my boss.”

“Hello?... Yeah.................. Oh really?............ Okay........ Uh huh.... I'll be right over.”

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“I need to go into work. Apparently there was a fire at the store last night. I gotta go help salvage what we can and help clean up. Will you two be okay here without me? Can you control your inner douchebag Austin?”

“You know, you're not all that nice to me, Shay. Why the fuck do I even stay here?”

“Because you're broke. Will you guys be okay? Seriously?”

“We'll be fine, Shayley. Just go off and save the day yet again. We'll be here, being mundane, boring people.”

“Sometimes I hate you.”

“Love you, too, Shayco. Now go, since work is so much more important than your best friend and guest.”

Shayley rolled his eyes, but left the apartment after getting shoes.

“So, Alan.”

“Y-yeah?”

“What's with the stutter? Do I make you nervous?” He smirked.

“No.”

“Am I so hot you can't speak around me?”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.” There was more truth to that then I want to admit.

“I thought so. So, you do swing Shayley and I's way, I'm guessing?”

“If you're asking if I'm gay, yes.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm, what?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Bullshit. What?”

“I'm telling you, nothing.”

This was going to be a really long day if this is how he was going to act.

“Are you aware that the only difference between you and a six year old is height and vocabulary?”

“Not true. In size, too. If ya know what I mean,” he said, winking.

Despite myself, a blush graced my cheeks.

“Mmm, yes. You do know.”

“You really are an ass.”

“You like me though.”

“Not in the least.”

That may be a lie. He intrigued me, honestly.

“Why did you ask me if I was okay the other night?” He blurted out.

“It looked like something was wrong. I don't know.”

“Are you one of those people?”

“What does that even mean?”

“Like, one of those people who wants to get close to people, try to fix their problems, get them to fall in love with you because you're so damn cute, then walk out of their life like they meant nothing to you?”

I only heard one part of that whole sentence.

“You think I'm cute?”

He faltered a little before he spoke.

“No. I was using an example. Do you do that?”

“No, I don't. Just admit it though, Austin. You think I'm cute.”

“I hate to break it to you, but the bruises on your face don't exactly scream 'cute.' In fact, they scream 'I got my ass kicked pretty bad.' How didn't whoever attacked you break skin?”

“They did. There are cuts on my chest and legs and stuff.”

“Did you clean them?”

“No. They'll be fine.”

“Until one gets infected and you die. Come on.”

He stood and waited for me to do the same.

“I'm not going anywhere with you.”

“I beg to differ.”

He actually picked me up out of the kitchen chair, carried me into the bathroom, and set me on the counter.

“I swear to god, if I come back in here and you've moved, things aren't going to end well for you.”

“Hostile, much?”

“Little bit,” he replied, leaving the room.

He returned with a bottle of peroxide, cotton balls, and band aids.

“Shirt off.”

“What?”

“It's a simple task, Alan. Take your shirt off.”

“Why?”

“Because you have cuts that need to be cleaned. You could be dead tomorrow if you don't get cleaned up.”

I sighed dramatically, but did as he said.

“Nice ink.”

“Thanks.”

Austin opened the peroxide bottle and put some onto cotton before pressing it against my skin. I shivered and winced at the same time.

“That shit is seriously cold.”

“Good.”

“Shay's right. You are mean.”

“Let me point out that I'm helping you.”

He repeated his earlier actions on every cut that lined my chest.

“Okay. Put your shirt back on.”

I did as he said.

“Now pants off.”

“I'm sorry?”

“You said the skin broke on your legs, too. Take your pants off.”

There was no point in arguing, so I just did as he said. He dropped down to his knees and I couldn't help my heart from speeding up a little. He cleaned each individual wound there, too, before getting back to his feet. How did he not notice the scars? I pulled my pants back on quickly before he did notice. That was a secret I didn't want to share.

“Jesus, they really got you. There are more on you arms, too.”

I nodded and he lifted my right arm. He moved all up and down it with the peroxide since the cuts were spread out and abundant. He then started at the top of my left arm and finished down at my wrist.

“This one is pretty deep.”

“That's the only one that hurts,” I admitted.

He took his time, careful not to hurt me and I smiled a little, even though I was in a ton of pain. He cares way more about people than he seems to let on.

“Oh, fuck.”

“What?”

“It opened up a little. Just stay still, okay? Dammit. I'm so sorry.”

“It's fine, really.”

Still holding my arm in one hand, he used the other to pick up a band aid and tore it open with his teeth. Again, my heart started racing.

“Hold still,” he said, as he pressed the band aid down.

I winced at the pressure and he looked at me, concerned.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

Looking unsure of himself, he lifted my arm and pressed a small kiss to the skin, just above the band aid. Where his lips touched my skin, it tingled and I shivered slightly.

“Better?”