Chapter Text
“That’ll be $17.75.” You say absentmindedly to the tall and slightly haggard looking man standing before you. On the counter sat 3 Red Bulls, a package of beef jerky, a box of bandages, and a small sewing kit. You’d make some quip about the sewing kit but right now you’re too tired to bother.
“What?” He blinked a few times, like he was bringing his mind back down to earth.
“$17.75. For the stuff.”
“Oh! Shit, sorry. Um.” He mumbled to himself while he rummaged for his wallet before finally producing a $20 bill. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks. Do you want a bag-” He was halfway out the door before you could finish your sentence.
---
“Hey do you sell car batteries?” You were in the process of reorganizing the jars of olives when a very high dude your age grabbed your arm.
“Do we sell what?”
“ Car batteries!”
“This is a Walgreens dude, we don’t sell car batteries. But there’s an Autozone down the street.”
“I’m not going to fucking Autozone, thanks for nothing bitch.”
“Fuck you too!” You flipped him off as he left the store and you returned to your spot behind the register.
You sighed loudly. It had been four hours since the very tired and very handsome man had been in the store and you hadn’t stopped thinking about him. You’d only had a brief conversation but for some reason he wouldn’t leave your head. He was tall but not awkwardly so, with thick brown hair and the most expressive and sad eyes you’d ever seen in a person. When you spoke to him he seemed miles away, like he was preoccupied with something that he really wished he wasn’t so preoccupied with; almost like it pained him. He had been wearing all black, with a backpack slung over one shoulder.
Your mind kept drifting back to the small smile that had crept onto his face when he placed his items on the counter and noticed the tiny sewing kit, grabbing it at the last second. To him it seemed like a quiet victory.
What kinda secrets are you hiding behind that cute smile, you thought.
“God get a hold of yourself, Y/N. He’s one random customer in a hundred, just chill the fuck out.” You muttered to yourself as you stood up to stretch and loosen your stiff muscles. Your manager, thankfully, let you sit on a stool when you were working a register shift but you ended up always hunching your back which left you excruciatingly sore. To clear your head you decided to venture to the back and sit in the walk-in freezer for five minutes. It always did wonders to clear your head and wake you up, plus it was a good final push to get through the last bit of your shift.
Since you were the only one on duty you locked the front door and headed to the back, not at all worried about potential customers. If they really were desperate for Walgreens at 11:30 on a Wednesday night they could go to the one two blocks away.
“Fuck.” You exhaled as the cold sting of the freezer air hit your face. This was your place, your quiet spot to think and not be disturbed.
“HEY! HEY OPEN UP, PLEASE!”
You jumped and were blown out of your thoughts by very loud banging on the front entrance doors and an even louder loud voice to match.
“PLEASE I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE. IT’S URGENT.”
You sprung at the world “urgent” and rushed from the freezer back to the front. Standing on the other side of glass you could not believe wasn’t being shattered by his balled-up fists was the man from earlier, the one that wouldn’t leave your head-
Oh shit is that blood?
Your mind went blank as you quickly unlocked the door to let him inside. He all but collapsed onto the floor but managed to steady himself before having to lean against the checkout counter for support. You gave him a second to calm down before you realized yeah, that was blood you saw, and it was currently dripping in a steady stream from his nose and eyebrow directly into the rows of bubblegum and Twizzlers.
“Hey man I know you’re pretty hurt but, uh, do you think you could make it to the back room? It’s just...you’re bleeding and should sit down.” He looked up at you, his eyes wide.
“Shit.” He reached up to cover his nose and flinched. “You’re probably gonna have to help me I can’t-” He grunted and pushed off the counter and into your arms. He tried to keep most of his weight off you and you could tell it was a battle he was losing. But you didn’t really mind.
The back room was tiny with one desk, a computer chair, and a small loveseat. Carefully you helped him down onto the couch, trying not to overthink his hand lingering on your waist for a moment too long, and sat down in the computer chair across from him. He leaned back into and couch and finally managed to catch his breath. You couldn’t help but stare at him, your thoughts definitely not being the most appropriate given the situation; but something about him was just so distracting. He caught your eyes and you quickly looked away, composing yourself.
“I’m Y/N.”
“I’m Barry. Barry…” He pauses and thinks for a moment, which you notice is something he does a lot. His eyes leave yours and focus on something else while the gears in his mind whir. “Block. Barry Block.”
Barry Block. What a cute name.
You give him a small smile which he gently returns, causing your entire body light up and a blush to creep up your cheeks. The smile quickly fades as he winces in pain, causing your worry to increase.
“Could you...I need...the bag. The backpack.”
“Of course! What do you need?”
“The sewing kit I bought earlier. It’s in the bottom.”
“Yeah yeah here let me.” You opened the bag and began looking around for the kit when your hand touches something cold and metallic, making you freeze. Your eyes widen as he sensed your hesitation.
“Don’t worry, the gun isn’t loaded. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” You were nervous now, and slightly scared of him, but despite the anxiety churning in your stomach you still felt compelled to help him. He just looked so...lost. And wide-eyed. And bloody. Man, if this wasn’t your ultimate fantasy: a bruised and beaten handsome stranger falling into your arms and requiring your medical expertise (the expertise coming from your years of learning to sew) to mend his wounds. Fuck. You were staring again. Clearing the fantasy from your head you decided to lighten the mood and push all thoughts of the gun from your mind.
“So what, no health insurance?” You quip, finally pulling the sewing kit from his bag.
“What?”
“Is this how you cope with no health insurance? You hold poor cashiers at gunpoint until they stitch your wounds up? When I get sick or hurt I just rely on ginger ale and Vicks but I’ll admit, your idea does seem like a lot more fun.” He kept his eyes locked on you, almost as if he was studying your joke. The corners of his mouth twitched as he broke into a grin, and then a laugh. And then he couldn’t stop laughing which made you laugh. It took a good five minutes for the two of you to compose yourselves.
“Actually, I have great health insurance. I’m really here because I work undercover for Walgreens and it’s my job to surprise random cashiers and make sure they’re not sleeping on the job, stealing candy, hanging out in the freezers…” His joking tone had been replaced with one far more serious. You chuckled.
“Ha ha, very funny. Good one, Barry.” His face remained still and stern, waiting for you to continue. “Wait you’re not...shit are you serious? Barry er, Mr. Block I’m so sor-” He cut you off with a laugh even louder than before. You caught on once his laughter stopped and he threw a smirk your way. “Oh, you’re an asshole! That was not cool, Barry. I thought I was gonna get fired for standing in the freezer!” You gently smacked his shoulder which caused him to wince. “Shit! Your cuts! Here, let me stitch those up.”
With that, you dropped the chair to the lowest level and rolled closer to him, positioning yourself between his legs. As you opened the kit you became very aware of his thighs on either side of your legs, just barely brushing against you. You tried to focus on threading the needle but you could feel your face flush.
And was it your imagination or was his face turning the slightest shade of pink from the closeness too? No. No way. It was just the heat of the room. Yep. That was it.
You took a few breathes but it still felt like it was getting hotter by the minute and you hadn’t even started the stitching. While you tried to stay focused on the needle and thread, Barry gently cleaned his cuts with a bottle of water and some napkins he had in his bag.
“I don’t have anything for you to bite onto while I stitch, will you be okay?”
“I’ll be fine, I’ve had worse.” The nonchalant way he spoke about his injuries caused a twinge of pain in your heart. His demeanor and way of speaking were so guarded, you couldn’t help but wonder how he’d been hurt. He once again seemed to sense your nervousness and hesitantly grabbed your shaking knee, squeezed, and let go. “Y/N. I’ll be okay. It’s just something I’m used to with my...line of work. I was a marine.” As much as you appreciated his reassurance, it did little to calm your trembling hands. Although now you weren’t sure if your tremors were from the impending procedure or the realization that his face was now incredibly close to yours. Close enough to-
“Okay! I’m good. I’m fine, let’s do this.” Shaking your head again, you scooted a tiny bit closer and gently placed a hand on the crook of his neck, where the soft edge of his thermal met the warm skin of his neck. He hissed slightly at the contact, cheeks dusting the lightest shade of pink.
Score.
“You good?” You questioned.
“Yep. Your hands are just, ah, a little cold.”
“Sorry. This shouldn’t take long. I may have to uh...hold your face for extra stability at some point is that, is that okay?”
Please say yes please say yes
“Y-yeah! That’s uh that’s fine.” He clears his throat and steadies himself. His eyes flick to yours and quickly dart away to focus on what seems to be anything in the room that’s not your face. You notice the pink in his cheeks hasn’t gone away.
The first stitch is the worst; the cut on his eyebrow was right along the bone so you have to avoid scraping it with the needle. Barry manages to keep his composure all throughout the brow stitches but it’s when you start working on his nose that he starts getting jittery and latching his hands firmly to your thighs. Without thinking you grasp his chin with your hand and still his face, locking your eyes.
“Barry. Barry look at me. This one will take me five minutes I swear, you’re doing great. Just try and keep still.” He nods, his face growing redder the longer you hold his chin.
You become incredibly aware of your positions. His hands gripping your thighs, your hand holding his face, your eyes locked. It feels like you’re stuck in that position for hours, both of you growing redder by the second. He shifts, causing his hands to move up your thighs a fraction of an inch which cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach and a small anxious giggle to slip from your lips. This seems to, unfortunately, break whatever spell the two of you were under and Barry coughs loudly, bringing his hands back to his own lap. The lack of warmth on your legs makes you deflate just a little. Neither of you dare speak, so you continue with the stitches. They’re finished in five minutes, like you said, and you head to your locker to find him a few ibuprofen to help with the pain.
When you return with the pills Barry has his head tilted back on the couch, snores softly coming from his half open mouth.
“I basically save your life and this is the thanks I get?” You chuckled to yourself and decided sleep wasn’t such a bad idea, given the circumstances. You also decided to forego the computer chair in favor of the comfier couch, next to Barry. Yeah, work could definitely wait.
You had no clue how long you’d been asleep when you were suddenly awoken by the sound of plate glass shattering.