I apologise for the time it took me to get this chapter out. I had a grad school interview and some wicked writer's block. I know where the story is going in the next few chapters... which should be out soon.
He limps into the brightly lit foyer of the hall stalk naked. The scars and bruise shone in the moonlight could not be more glaring obvious. He notices a scrape on his knee and a grass stain on his ankle.
The Warblers are standing in a group near the door. A few camera flashes greet him. He's a bit angry, but he would be doing the same thing if the roles were reversed. Besides, half the club participated in Thad's popular naked soccer tournament in the dorm hallways last month. At least another quarter were busted for Strip Munchkin. Behind his fellow singers, the Lacrosse team and his classmates stand in loose clumps.
Trent was saved the embarrassment of this particular walk of shame. Despite his girth, the sassy warbler made it back quickly. The boys didn't have time to gather.
Freshman Andrew gawks at his abdomen as he pushes through the crowd. They give him wide birth, thanks to his swinging member. He knows Andrew is not the only one staring; the freshman is just the only one doing it so openly.
He makes it back to his shared room with Nick, and locks the door. He pulls on boxers and reconnects his pump at his hip. The site is tender; pain stabs his hip as he hears the audible click of the plastic connection. He makes his hand into a claw, and drives his nails into his hip around the infusion set.
He washes his knee and ankle. All he really has is a scrape from falling on the grass and a strain. He will be fine in the morning.
He goes back out to his room and pulls on a pair of jeans.
David and Nick walk in, and he hears the click of the lock behind them.
"What did you do, man?"
Ever blunt, David asks the question which has filled the mind of 200 boys tonight.
He checks the bruise on his stomach, which peeps out over the waistband of his jeans. It doesn't hurt. He didn't think it looked that bad. The center is a deep purple-blue, with green around the edges. Apparently his definition of "not that bad" is off.
He shrugs. "I nicked a vein. No big deal."
David raises his eyebrows. "And the sores?
He studies his stomach. There are a few raised red marks on his stomach. They're not scars, not yet, but they're red and raised and they look painful. They are the mark of old sets, which he let sit too long. As many years as he's worn a pump, his body has started to reject the invasion.
"They're nothing."
He looks at Nick. "It's from the … thing."
"Seb's right. It's nothing." Nick confirms.
David leaves, puzzled and displeased but with no where to question.
He knows the boys will talk. They are more gossipy than some girls he's met, and they like drama just as much. But, with a little luck, he can control the damage from tonight.
R&R, P&TY