Chapter Three

~ Wright ~

Wright stood in the shower for at least ten minutes. Xander turned the water on for him, wanting to make sure it wasn't too hot before he left. He promised to lay out a shirt and bring back some pants too. The water stung his whole body but he stayed under the spray until he got used to it. He didn't want to move too much and realized that he wouldn't be able to do more than hope the water got most of the dirt off. He'd seen himself in the mirror when Xander went to grab the water. His eye was swollen shut, he had blood smeared over his lips and chin. His ribs were colored on one side, a cut just barely visible when he twisted his body to look at the damage on his back. He looked as bad as he felt.

He tried to wash his hair, but using just one hand was difficult. He'd already exerted his shoulder enough just getting his shoes, jeans, and boxers off. A question Xander asked him came back to his mind when he tried to clean his lower body. Bending over still made him a bit dizzy. He'd ask about possibly having a concussion.

Xander had asked him if he had any abuse below the waist. His dad hit him often, yelling that he would never live up to his expectations. He loved telling Wright how successful he was at his age. How he was dating girls, sleeping around, how he'd ‘scored' his mom at a house party. Wright was slacking and his dad thought that hitting him or making him take ice showers would somehow make him become popular. The truth was he never fit in at school. He focused his attention on his studies, dreaming of a future where he could be himself. Not that he was a great student, even with trying. He was average at best. As messed up as it sounded in his head, he never once thought his dad would hurt him in that way because he rambled about how it was gay for another man to be in the same room with a naked guy. Even when he shoved him into the cold showers, he was fully clothed.

He cleared his head, knowing if he kept thinking about it he would break down crying again. Xander was still gone when he opened the bathroom door. He'd tried to tie the towel around him, but his shoulder was throbbing. The painkillers hadn't fully kicked in yet. He looked at the phone, just to see if there was a text or anything. No notifications were there, but Xander's background was of a horse in a field. There was a sunset painting the sky pink and orange.

As promised, a plain shirt was sitting folded on the dresser. He'd put it there earlier, before Wright barely said a word to him. The rest of the room was rather basic. The walls were a cream color, the floor a dark wood. The bed was a solid headboard and footboard. There were spots of individuality spread around. Like the photo hanging on the wall by the window. It was of a fence, with a cowboy hat positioned perfectly in the frame. That and the phone background, Wright wondered if he had taken the pictures himself or not. What he assumed were Xander's cologne and other products were lined up on the dresser. He liked the room and its simplicity. His room he grew up in had old carpet and gray walls. He never had a bed larger than a twin size, a metal frame to keep it off the floor. The king size bed was messy, like Xander rolled out that morning and just left it. But it looked equally inviting. He sighed when he noticed that there were smears of dirt and some gravel, even a spot of blood on the pillow and sheets. He'd offer to clean them later.

He turned back to the dresser and tried to slip the shirt over his head. He got caught in the fabric and his body protested at moving too much, stretching his arm until the pain kept him from breathing.

"Would you like some help?" Xander's voice was somewhere close by. Wright made a noise and tried to pull the shirt down. His muscles tensed and he could feel the loose towel starting to slip off his waist. "Hold on, don't move too much. I've got you."

Hands were on him, on his waist. He could feel his heartbeat racing when the towel was adjusted. It wasn't pulled away though. Just tightened so it wouldn't fall. Xander's fingers that close to an intimate part of his body was a new feeling and his heart started racing for another reason.

"Here we go," Xander whispered. He moved his hands around and tugged on the fabric until his head popped through and the shirt rested on his shoulders. "I brought bandages. Do you mind if I put them on and clean the cuts before we put the shirt all the way on? William is closest to you in size and he loaned us a pair of sweats. Also, Tracy piled you a plate of food from the reception."

"Were they mad at me?" Wright looked up at Xander. Wright only came up to his shoulder. Where he couldn't grow a single chest hair if he wanted, Xander had a short, dark beard and mustache. His skin was tanned, his eyes wrinkled around the edges. They were a soft blue, almost ocean color. His hair was shorter than Wright's, just long enough to run his fingers through. There was a peek of chest hair at the edge of the collar of his shirt. He'd changed, too. He had been wearing a button down and nice pants with a belt, but now he was in jeans and a white t-shirt. He had a tattoo of the medical logo with the snakes on his forearm and what looked like a Willow tree on his upper right arm. The shirt cut it off so he wasn't completely sure.

"Of course not," Xander said. He nodded toward the bed. He thought Xander wanted him to sit, but instead he had him stand between his legs as he sat down. He reached down and pulled items from a black bag he hadn't noticed on his initial scan of the room. "They are worried about you, but you didn't ruin a thing. If anything, you actually showed William how much his idea is helping people. You being here and him knowing you are safe is the best wedding gift he could have. His words exactly."

"I still hate that it was interrupted, though."

Xander turned his body so his back was facing him. His fingers brushed down his spine and Wright shivered. He was sure Xander could see the goosebumps on his skin. "Your back doesn't look as bad as I thought it would. Is it still tender here?" Wright scrunched his face in pain, but it wasn't terrible. Not like it'd been an hour ago. "I'll take that as a yes."

"It's not as bad as it was," Wright said. "I tried to clean off as much as I could, but my arm was starting to protest."

"Do you want me to run a cloth over parts you might have missed? I'm going to need to clean the cuts anyway."

"If you want," Wright said. "I think it's mostly my face. It hurt to run the water over my eye."

They fell silent as Xander worked. He closed his eyes, letting Xander position him how he needed, turning him in a slow circle to examine his whole upper body. His fingers were gentle, but a few places he prodded had him wincing again. A large bandage was taped to his side, a beige wrap wound around his chest and back just tight enough to not fall off. Xander made sure that he could breathe easily before moving on.

Wright wasn't used to this kind of attention. The feeling of Xander's fingers on his skin, the way he was taking care of him. Everything about him was different to what he grew up with with his dad. When he was finally turned back to face him, still standing between his legs, Wright watched his face. His eyes were full of concentration. He worked deftly, moving to concentrate on the scratches on his arms and his lower legs past the towel he'd gotten while he was on the ground. He stood after a minute, working on his shoulder last.

"This will need to stay in a sling or something for at least a week," Xander said, finally breaking the silence. Wright was still looking at his face. He moved Wright's left forearm gently to rest against his stomach and then pulled a second beige wrap out to fix it in place and wrap up around his shoulder. He couldn't move it at all but the position relieved some pressure so he wasn't complaining. Much. "I'm going to clean off your face a little more and then apply the ointment. Tell me if I'm hurting you."

Wright nodded. His headache was mostly gone now. He still felt a little dizzy, but it wasn't as bad. Xander disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a fresh cloth. Wright closed his eyes and let Xander work. He relaxed, letting himself enjoy being taken care of for another moment. He never even got close enough to another person to be touched like this, even as innocent as cleaning wounds. It was nice, being taken care of. It was so different from any touches he'd had before. He stepped back, his legs pressing against the foot of the bed.

"Did I hurt you?" Xander asked. He was looking all around Wright's face. He wasn't hurt. In fact, he was being so gentle that Wright was enjoying the sensation. A little too much.

"Um, no. Sorry. I just- Can I take a nap?" The last thing he wanted Xander to know was that his hands and the simple act of caring for him were affecting him physically.

"Can you eat first?" Xander asked. "And you'll have to sleep sitting up with your injuries. A dislocated shoulder is no joke."

"Oh, okay." He'd always been an avid stomach or side sleeper, but he'd manage. After everything that happened, he was sure he was tired enough to fall asleep anyway.

"You okay?" Xander cleaned up the mess he'd made and tossed the trash away before he passed over the clothes he brought. "William threw in a pair of boxers, promising that they were new. He said they were his honeymoon surprise so apologies in advance if they are tight."

Wright wanted to laugh, but a yawn caught him off guard. The movement caused his eye to throb and he raised his good arm to touch the new bandage. Xander had covered his entire eye with a white gauze so even if he could open it, he wouldn't see anything.

"If you want to get dressed, I'm going to go heat up the food. Just walk down the hallway when you're ready."

The boxers weren't terribly tight, but they did hug him in all the right places. He adjusted himself quickly, not wanting to give himself any more reason to get harder than he was. He'd let it go down on its own and then hopefully forget about it for a while. Forever if he could. He wasn't sure he'd be able to touch himself again without seeing the look on his dad's face just before he hit him.

He pulled the sweats on and tossed the towel back into the bathroom before making his way down the hall. The floors were a dark wood throughout the house. The walls were an off-white, scattered with more photographs. The living room was just as simple as the bedroom. There was a TV on a glass shelf stand, a brown couch angled toward it in the middle of the room. A large rug covered a good section of the floor. There wasn't a lot of sunlight left, but the curtains were opened and showed the open field behind the house. Xander was standing in the kitchen. It was smaller, enough space for one or two people but not enough for a family. The appliances looked new and the countertops were light marble. The white cabinets with glass doors stood out against the dark cream walls.

"How are you feeling?" Xander asked. He had two plates in front of him, piled with delicious looking and smelling food. Wright tried to adjust the sweats to keep them firmly on his hips. They were at least a size too big, but he couldn't tighten them or roll them with just one hand. Xander seemed to sense his struggle and silently offered to help. As much as Wright wanted to keep a distance from Xander and his hands, he didn't want to trip over the feet or have them fall completely.

"I'll be okay," Wright said honestly. He stood beside Xander and looked between him and the food. He had eaten a few of his veggies earlier, not feeling the chicken after his dad's attitude before everything that happened. "What's for dinner? What time is it?"

"It's just hitting nine," Xander said. "Have you eaten today?"

"A couple bites of my dinner before my dad flipped out." He was used to not eating all day. His dad didn't keep much in the house. Definitely not snacks.

"Well." Xander picked up their plates and motioned for them to move to the living room. "The table is a bit of a mess right now but I have some food trays we can use. I'll make sure to clean up in a little. Tracy gave us a bit of everything. There's steak, potatoes, mac and cheese, green beans, corn, carrots. She even wrapped up a few pieces of cake. Do you like chocolate?"

"Haven't had a lot of sweets in my life," Wright said honestly. He sat down on the couch and took the plates from Xander while he pulled out the folding tray tables. "But I like chocolate ice cream. I used to sneak an ice cream bar at school sometimes."

"You'll like this cake" Xander said. "We might save it tomorrow. That's the second time you've yawned and I don't want you to be awake from the sugar. I'll be checking on you periodically through the night to make sure you're good."

"I think I might have a concussion," Wright said. "Is that what you're worried about? The passenger window hit my head pretty hard when my dad shoved me into the truck and shut the door. I got dizzy and my vision kind of went out. Not to mention when he slammed on his brakes and my head hit the dashboard."

Xander was silent for a long time. Wright wasn't sure what he said, but he pushed his food around the plate. It all looked amazing and he felt his stomach rumble more than heard it. "I'm sorry. I should probably stop talking about it."

"No, no. It isn't that." Xander reached across the empty cushion between them and laid his hand on Wright's thigh. "I'm just trying to convince myself that murder is illegal. Patrick is calling the family doctor and he's going to get you in tomorrow for x-rays. You'll have to file a report and tell her and the police what happened."

"What? A report? Is that necessary?"

Xander took his hand back and looked at Wright. Stared, a better description. "Yes, file a report for assault. You're an adult and he hurt you, Wright. Let the police know what happened. I've seen too many abuse cases that never got reported in my time. Please, don't stay silent on this."

For some reason, hearing Xander use his name didn't feel right. He'd only been half joking about him calling him gorgeous still, but even that felt more natural than his name. He couldn't dwell on that now. His hands started shaking. He'd already relived it in bits and pieces with Xander. "Can't you just tell them what happened?"

"I can, but the further removed the report, the less likely it will go anywhere. If you don't want to, we won't force you to. You don't have to do anything you don't want to or don't like. But think about it, okay? He deserves to be thrown in jail at least."

Wright focused on the food. It was delicious. He only wished he could cook like this. Before he realized it, the plate was mostly empty. He only had a few pieces of steak left before he set his fork down. He'd made a bit of a mess on the small table and even in his lap. It didn't help that he was left-handed and felt more comfortable using it for just about any activity. Being able to move just his right hand sucked.

"I'm going to get an ice pack for your shoulder and then we'll fix up the bed for you to sleep," Xander said. He was standing and moving to the kitchen when the words registered.

"I can't take your bed," Wright said. He brought his own plate to the kitchen and dumped the last bites into the trash sitting by the front door.

"You're not going to win this argument," Xander said. He wrapped a small plastic bag of ice in a cloth and stepped toward Wright. He put the bag on his shoulder gently and the cool temperature was a relief. Without thinking, Wright lifted his other hand to lay it on top of Xander's to hold it in place. He tilted his head to allow more space for the bag to sit on his shoulder. Xander's hand was rough, but warm. Neither of them said a word and Wright held his breath until the older man slipped his hand out from under his own. "Let's go set it up. I don't think you saw the pillows, but I brought enough we could easily make it where you can sleep without putting pressure on your shoulder."

"I've never been able to sleep on my back," Wright said as they entered the bedroom. He'd been focused on the photos and then getting the shirt on because there were three extra pillows on the bed he didn't notice when he got out of the shower. "So, I don't know how much sleep I'll get."

"We can figure something out," Xander said.