Work Text:
Jim sat around the table as the other guys laughed and chatted between stuffing their faces with food. It was a friday night, and like always they all met at the cheap local dinnery after practice to hang out. Jim took another sip of his beer, enjoying the taste as he listened to the hyperbolic conversation between Sid, Shawn and Paul. Something about a story from a radio talk show, although Jim really didn’t care about the topic. It was nice just to hear them talk and have fun.
Glancing across at the others, he watched Corey and Chris have a quiet chat about a new band that had come up. Their conversation was a lot more relaxed than the others, but it was still charming none the less. He loved these nights, in the atmosphere of the pub, with the dim coloured lights, the warm smell of food, and the sound of fun conversations you could never forget. He smiled to himself, savouring the moment.
He was still watching Corey when he noticed something. As his friend had flicked his hand to add expression to his part in the conversation, he saw a twinge of pain flicker through his face. Jim narrowed his eyes. It was nothing, really, but just a little too peculiar to not notice. Now Corey’s arm was settled on the table, pressed close to him in a casual manner that nobody would have paid attention to if not skeptical.
Jim set down his glass of beer and watched Corey more intently. His arm was mostly stationary, but as he continued to speak with Chris he would instinctually raise it to gesture towards what was being said. As he would move it, even just slightly, he would freeze slightly like he was in pain, and move his arm back to the resting position. Strange.
It was probably nothing to worry about, and he was probably just overthinking it, so Jim turned his attention back to the other elements of the room, yet still keeping a part of his mind alert on Corey. He distracted himself by taking a slice of pizza from the table and settling into Sid and Shawn’s conversation, this time about a stupid dream Sid had the other day.
The night stretched on quickly, and suddenly it was almost closing hours. The guys finished off their food and drinks and went to pay, Corey taking the shout this time. Jim hadn’t stopped taking note of him throughout the night, careful not to drink too much so he could stay alert.
The group crowded towards the entrance way of the diner, busy in their conversation, while Corey paid. Jim watched him intently as he reached for his wallet and carefully took out enough notes to pay. As he reached inside the leather wallet, his face tensed in a shock of pain, but he forced through, placing the money on the table and quickly retreating his arm.
Jim watched him carefully. Perhaps the other stuff could have been normal and just overthought, but something was certainly wrong with Corey after that. He looked as though the simplest of movements caused him significant pain, enough for a reaction like that. He had to find out what was wrong, and hopefully it would just be a minor sprain or a strained muscle, although an itch in his intuition suspected something worse.
Outside, the members gathered in the parking lot, the cool night air biting ferociously. The sky was clear, and the stars speckled down brightly.
“We can head back to my place if you want. Do a movie night or something?” Sid suggested. That was what they usually did on nights like these, and Jim could see that most of the guys were agreeing. He quickly interrupted.
“Me and Corey were actually going to head back to my apartment tonight.” He spoke clearly.
Corey turned to face him confusedly. “What? I never-”
Jim silenced him with a hard glare, shutting him up instantly. “We’d better leave before it gets too late.”
Corey stared at him strangely, clearly confused and perhaps slightly scared, but he didn’t say anything else. Some of the other members were looking at them weirdly, but they stayed silent too.
“Uh, alright, that’s fine,” Shawn commented. “I’m going to Sid’s though, so seeya, I guess.”
“See you later,” Jim replied, turning to his car and making sure Corey was following him. When they were both in, he started the engine and drove back to his apartment. The air was thick between them, yet neither said anything until they were standing outside the house door.
“Dude, what are you doing?” Corey finally asked.
Jim was silent for a moment, unlocking the door and stepping inside. “I just needed to talk to you about something.” He tried to keep his voice light, but it came off as a bit firmer than he intended. He felt Corey tense beside him and bury his hands into his hoodie pockets.
Jim led him into the living room and shut the door behind him. The sound of it creaking shut was deafening in the silent air. He turned to face Corey, who stood uncomfortably beside the couch.
“What is it?” His voice was as hard as usual, but there was a hint of uncertainty running through it, almost fear.
Jim sighed, trying to make himself appear friendlier. He wasn’t good at these kinds of talks, but it had to happen. “What’s up with your arm.”
It was meant to come off as a question, but ultimately became more of a statement, a demand. Corey froze where he stood, and the air seemed to grow a lot colder suddenly.
“What- what do you mean?” He finally stuttered out.
“I saw you keep flinching whenever you moved it, like it hurt. I know something’s up, and I want to help, alright?” Jim explained, although the whole friendly idea wasn’t really working. It sounded more like he was trying to turn it into a casual conversation, which it wasn’t.
Corey suddenly tensed up angrily. “You should just stay out of other people’s business. If something was wrong I would have asked you for help.”
“But you never would have asked, would you? I know how these things work, Corey. I’m doing this because I care for you, and because I know something’s wrong. So please, just tell me.”
Corey glared at him reluctantly, as though weighing his options. He didn’t say anything for a long time, averting his eye contact anywhere but Jim’s.
“It’s fine,” He eventually muttered. “It isn’t anything that you need to worry about.”
Jim raised an eyebrow. “So something is wrong.”
Corey sighed, tapping his foot against the floor hesitantly. Jim took a step closer and rested a hand on his shoulder before guiding him to sit on the couch beside him. Corey didn’t refuse, following into the movement. When they were both seated next to each other, Jim spoke again, softly.
“Look, man, I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, and we don’t have to say a lot, but can you please just let me see it? Just to help, that’s all I want to do. I know it’s hard, but can you please try to trust me?” His voice was gentle and friendly, finally reaching the comfort he had been trying to evoke.
And it seemed to have worked, because Corey was watching him with a little less uneasiness. They sat in silence for a few moments before Corey made up his mind.
“Okay…” he sighed. “But don’t judge me.”
Cautiously, he pulled up his jacket sleeve to reveal a bandage poorly wrapped around his forearm. It had come loose and was merely hanging around his arm, rather than pressuring the wound. Blood was already soaking through, some splotches dry while others much more fresh. Corey looked away, letting Jim inspect it with a sinking heart.
“Jeez, man…”
Jim gently held Corey’s arm still with his hands, observing the damage. It certainly needed proper treatment.
“Can I take the bandage off?” He asked quietly.
Corey nodded slightly, refusing eye contact. Timidly, Jim untied the knot which was holding the bandage together, and unwrapped the fabric. As he unravelled it, he felt cold blood staining his fingers as he pulled away the parts closest to the wound. After it was all loose, he carelessly threw it to the floor and inspected the wound itself.
It was a single cut, but dug deep into the flesh and was still wet with blood. The skin around it moved and quivered as Corey’s heavy breathing shook his arm. Jim felt a gag rising in his throat, but forced it back. The crimson flesh was clearly visible inside the gash, and fresh blood had already started to bubble and drip out of it.
Corey must have noticed the colour drain from Jim’s face, and subtly coaxed his arm closer to himself, trying to pull it away from his friend’s sight.
“I’m sorry, dude, I shouldn’t have-”
“No- no, it’s fine. But this really needs some proper treatment.” He gently held Corey’s arm firmer in place, preventing him from pulling away any more. “And don’t you ever be sorry. It’s not your fault.”
Corey met his gaze remorsefully. He almost felt guilty for what he had done, not for himself but for what he had burdened Jim with from it. He remained silent as Jim stood up from the couch and moved to the bathroom to retrieve medical supplies. He shouldn’t care this much for him. He didn’t deserve so much love.
Jim returned shortly after and reclaimed his place beside Corey, holding new bandages, rubbing alcohol and tissues. He gingerly began to wipe away the fresh blood that had started to run out of the wound, letting the tissues soak up the crimson mess until the flow had subsided. Next, he reached for the rubbing alcohol and poured some of the liquid onto a clean tissue.
“This is gonna hurt a little,” He warned.
“Don’t worry,” Corey answered quietly.
Jim pressed the tissue against the wound and let the alcohol mix with the wound. For Corey, it burned like hell, as though someone were putting out cigarettes underneath his skin, but he bit down on his tongue and fought through. He didn’t want to make more of a scene than he already had.
Eventually, the burning stopped, and he was able to breathe again. Jim had grabbed a fresh roll of bandages and was beginning to wrap them around the wound. Corey watched him as he tightly sheathed the gory wound away from his eyes, finally making the area pure. Well, purer than how it had been a few minutes ago. He tied the bandage into a firm knot after wrapping his forearm a few times, achieving a much better job than Corey had managed on his own. After Jim cut the excess strands, Corey brought his arm up for inspection.
“Not bad,” He remarked, weaving back into his usual voice.
Jim smiled at him before packing away the disposed medical supplies. He retreated to the bathroom to reset them, before returning back to the living room.
“You wanna stay the night?” He asked Corey from the doorway.
Corey smiled and slouched back against the sofa. “Sure. What movies you got?”
Jim chuckled and tossed him the TV remote before settling beside him. He cordially wrapped an arm across Corey’s shoulder and pulled him closer as the television flickered into life.
“Thank you,” Corey spoke softly yet earnestly.
Jim smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”
