Authors Note: So this story is rated M for mature due to mature content. Sexual content (as far as will the website will allow for) and lots and lots of bad words. If you don't like naughty language then you should probably leave now. There will also be some violent content and adult humor.
There is going to be male on male content, if that is not your cup of tea please avoid reading this story for obvious reasons. I am warning you now, so don't whine to me later. Boys may be kissing or touching one another.
Chapter one is short but it was really enjoyable to write. I hope you all enjoy. Cloren
Chapter 1
Stan
I feel something warm soaking the part of my pants that are covering my thigh, the same area that Kenny has laid his head down on. That really can't be good, I think to myself, but I put it on the list of places to check after I finish cleaning the cut above his eye.
"That fucking stings" he says to me. But it's quiet, he's putting effort into not moving his mouth too much. Partly because the cut on his lip is still bleeding through the wad of toilet paper he's pressing on it and partly because he doesn't want to get in my way as I dab at his forehead with my mom's dish towel.
"Yeah, it's antiseptic, it's not supposed to feel good genius." I reply annoyed. This really isn't my night is it?
"Maybe it would hurt less if you weren't pressing so damn hard Stan." He bites back. I immediately lighten my hold on the towel easing away.
"You have to put pressure on it though." I say.
We're quiet, I can feel my teeth sinking into my bottom lip as I bite it in concentration. It wasn't that big of a cut, but as soon as he came in from outside it started bleeding again. By the looks of it his face probably hurts like a son of a bitch.
When he first walked in I couldn't see much, he had his hood on and had zipped his hoodie up so it covered his chin. I didn't even catch any of the bruises until he asked me for a tissue for his nose, which has thankfully stopped bleeding.
It looks like I'm not the only one having a screwed up night.
I hear something outside my window, it sounds like yet another set of footsteps and I curse inwardly. It better be the fucking wind because I'm not really in the mood. But there's another sound, metal grating against metal and I know my window is being opened for the second time tonight. The cold air that comes in leaves me no room to doubt and I hear as someone drops into my room. Kenny sits up and looks behind me and I begrudgingly stop what I was doing to whip my head around at the person I am sure is there.
"What's he doing here?" Kyle says and I just stare at him for a moment. What are you doing here, more like it.
Kenny echoes my thoughts immediately and I turn his way to see that he's trying his best to hide behind his non-existent coat.
"Stan?" Kyle says turning to me and I sigh at both of them.
"Working on your cat burgling? If so you should totally teach me a few tricks." Kenny says and I notice he's forced his tone to come off like a joke.
"No, I was supposed to come over and-" Kyle steps over and closes the window then gives me a perplexed glare, as I've yet to say anything.
"You didn't text me. I didn't think you were coming over tonight." I say, and I'm honestly a bit confused. He usually gives me a call and it's well past 2:00 am at this point.
At this Kenny looks at me then at Kyle. I can see the wheels turning and he's too fucking sharp not to pick up on something. And I really don't want him to; I hope his head injury makes him forget to be his usual perceptive self. He smirks when he looks back at me but before he can tease or inquire further Kyle nearly shouts at me in anger.
"I did call you ass hole. You didn't pick up your phone" He walks back over to where me and Kenny are on the bed.
"So wait; you mean to tell me that you were expecting Kyle to come crawling into your room? In the middle of the night?" Kenny says and I really don't feel like explaining this.
"Well I wouldn't have if I had've known that you were going to be here. Stan, are you two having a sleep over or something?" he asks. He looks mad but the way his eyes dart to the ground I can tell something else is eating at him.
"No, Kenny just got here a few minutes ago." And finally I realize that Kenny is bleeding, his head is off my lap but I've glanced down at the warm wet stain on my pants and decide that whatever conversation we need to all have will have to wait till later. I silently turn him around again and he only half heartedly resists as I pull his collar down the back of his neck to get a better look. There's a nasty gash in the back of his blond hair and it looks bad. Bad enough to need stitches probably. I can't say I know how to do anything like that.
"Take that off, the hoods soaked with blood. You got it on my pants." Kenny pulls his arm behind him and fingers the spot I've just examined, the way his fingers graze over it I can tell he's surprised to find anything there. That's definitely worrisome.
"What happened to your face?" Kyle says, and he means a whole lot more than that. He eyes the same wound I've been looking at and Kenny's shoulders hunch up defensively.
"Nothing much. Is it an improvement?" he asks sarcastically. I can tell he definitely doesn't want to talk about this. I didn't even ask, not that I didn't care to, but I can guess and I'm pretty sure he's had enough of a rough night without having to go into this.
"Stan? What happened." Kyle's pitch hikes up with a whine and I'm honestly on my last nerve. I just wanted to go to sleep and when he gets like this I really can't stand it. I find myself pinching the bridge of my nose trying to stop the irritation from giving me another head ache.
"Nothing, drop it. Sit down on the bed. Now." I look away and turn my attention back to Ken, who has finally taken off his hoodie and is sitting in a white tank top that has yellow and brownish stains in various places.
I'll have to fetch him a t-shirt, probably some pjs too. He could do with a shower or a bath, his clothes smell like piss and cigarettes. I don't mention it, I never have because I know it's not his fault he always smells like ass. I know how self-conscious he is about it already.
At least his tank has cleared me a way to treat the gash on the back of his head. I steer him face first into the mattress and I reach for one of the ice packs I brought into the room when he first arrived.
I put it at the base of his neck and apply pressure. He tenses and groans annoyed at the shock of ice. He flips over when I've secured a towel behind him like a pillow and I more or less prop him up with a star shaped pillow I've had since I was eight. It's small but it's within my reach. Kyle is sitting on the edge of the bed watching me and whatever anger he was feeling before has faded. He looks tired, and nervous and I'm sure at this point he's definitely regretting coming over here in the middle of the night.
Just a few minutes ago I was sitting in that same spot, staring blankly at my wall. I kept telling myself I would fall back into my mattress and finally get some sleep, but I had been sitting there for a long time, long enough for my muscles to feel rigid. I'd jumped up off my bed when Kenny jumped through the window pulling me out of my funk, he was a complete mess.
It's true, none of us are having the night we wanted to have.
