A loud thud and a cry of pain had Marc shooting straight up in his bed. It took him a few seconds to realize it came from the direction of the second bedroom. Grabbing his shorts, he pulled them on quickly, raced down the hall, and flung the door to the room open. Colin wasn't in the bed. A groan came from the bathroom; Marc was through the doorway seconds later.
Colin was curled at the bottom of the shower stall, blood flowing from a wound on his scalp. Marc shut the water off and snagged a towel from the rack to press against his forehead.
"What the hell happened?" he asked, a bit more sharply than he intended.
"I was stupid," Colin muttered. "Again. I think I fell asleep, because all of a sudden I was down here on the tile."
"Will you quit calling yourself stupid?" Marc grumbled as he tossed the towel into the sink and easily lifted Colin into his arms. He took him to the bed, laying him on his side, and told him not to move until he got back. He returned quickly with a first aid kit, which he set on the bedside table. Then he went to the bathroom, where he dampened a washcloth and brought it back. Sitting on the side of the bed, he gently washed the gash. "I should stitch this up, just to keep things normal between us," he told Colin with a chuckle.
"Is it that bad?"
"Not really." Soon Marc had it cleaned and bandaged. "There, you'll live," he said, patting Colin's shoulder. "Now, turn onto your stomach please," he said, keeping his voice professionally calm, as if they were back in the ER. "I have to change out the dressings on your back, since you managed to get them soaked. What were you thinking?"
"I figured maybe a warm shower would help me sleep," Colin replied as he turned off of his side. "I really did try to do it so my back would stay dry."
"Apparently it worked as far as relaxing you." Marc removed the dressings and surveyed the wounds with cool, gentle fingertips. "You didn't reopen anything, which is a blessing." After reaching for more gauze and tape he began working, at the same time admiring the fine lines of Colin's back and ass until he realized what he was doing and where his thoughts had been heading. He shook his head, angry with himself when he realized that he was letting his problems with Bill affect how he was reacting to Colin. He finished quickly with the tape and told Colin to stay where he was and not move. "I need to see if there are any signs of concussion." He knelt down beside him, one hand on his head, and checked his pupils.
* * * *
"Equal and reactive?" Colin asked. "Yeah, I've watched too many medical shows," he added when Marc cocked an eyebrow at him.
Marc resumed his seat on the edge of the bed, but this time kept some distance between them, and Colin wondered if Marc was no more immune to him than he was to the Marc. Before, Marc had been sitting close enough that Colin could have kissed him, if he was into the whole kissing thing, and now he was barely making eye contact. At least Colin had an advantage over Marc; he was lying on his stomach, which hid his erection. "So do I get something to help me sleep?"
"Not a good idea. You seem to be all right, but those meds are contraindicated with a possible head injury. So no sleeping for a few hours, anyway."
"Oh, great. So what do I do until then?" Colin grumbled.
* * * *
A thought flashed through Marc's mind that made him look away from Colin and his question in embarrassment. He shouldn't even be considering what he'd been thinking, and he knew it.
As if reading his mind, Colin rested a hand on Marc's thigh. "If I didn't feel so punk, I'd take you up on that," he said quietly with a quick look at the front of Marc's shorts.
Marc covered Colin's hand with his own as he felt it inch up his thigh.
Colin freed his hand as he sat up, cupped the back of Marc's head, and kissed him. Nothing explicit, no trying to gain entrance, just a melding of lips.
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