A New Life (BoyxBoy)(Poly)

Chapter 2 - Introductions

James POV

I watch as the boy trips over the clothes I was supposed to hang up (oops!) and crashes into a clothing rack, ruining his chance at a dramatic exit.

I snicker and walk over to him, offering him a hand. He oh-so-gratefully ignores me, pulling himself up with the clothes rack he trashed. He then stands up to leave. At least, I think that was what he was doing. Of course, I'll never know because he yelped and stumbled over the second he got onto his feet.

"You okay?" I ask with a chuckle.

"I'm fine, I just hurt my ankle a little." He says with a strained voice, about to attempt standing once more.

"Oh, no you don't!" I exclaim, scooping him up off the floor.

"Wha- put me down!" He quickly protests, struggling to get away.

"Nope, I'm taking you to the back where the first aid kit is. You," I continue, stretching out the word 'you' and booping his nose, "are going to sit quietly and be cute. Y'know, what you're doing now, but quieter."

Thankfully, he's too flustered to keep fighting with me. I enter the back room and set him down on the couch.

He just huffs and sits there, knowing I would just catch him if he tried to leave.

I grab the first aid kit and kneel in front of him. He sits for a minute, curled into a ball, before sighing and sticking out his foot. However, he noticably winces when I touch his ankle. I pull up his pant leg a bit, and can already see some swelling.

"Yep, that's definitely sprained." I say, grabbing some ice from the mini fridge and putting it in a Ziploc bag.

"Stupid ankle." He growls, crossing his arms and glaring at it as I gently place the ice on top.

"Is your side okay?" I ask, looking at him.

"What do you mean?" He asks, confusion showing in his eyes.

"Your side. I saw you hit it on the rack," I respond, standing up. "Does it hurt?"

"Oh, n-no, it's fine!"

I chuckle, sitting down next to him. "That's what you said about your ankle. I'm gonna take a look."

"N-no!" He shouts defensively, smacking my hand away. Something is definitely off.

"I-I mean, uhh..." He struggles think of an excuse, and I begin getting concerned.

"Sit still." I order, moving away his hands and lifting up his dress shirt.

For a second, we both just sit there. Neither speaking.

Neither moving.

Neither breathing.

Finally, I say something.

"Get into a lot of fights?" I ask with a half-hearted laugh, both of us knowing that that's not what I really want to say.

His abdomen is littered with gruesome bruises and scars. It's more purple and blue than it is his actual skin tone.

"I'm going to check for broken ribs." I say after a moment of silence, and begin poking at his chest. He just looks away. After a minute, though, he cries out in pain.