Warbler Infections

Chapter 26: "Constellation of Scars"

Saturday October 23rd, 2010
Hunter's POV:

   So maybe French isn't my thing. I'll live. Who needs silent letters and accents when I have cleats and mouth guards? Lacrosse.

  Nothing feels so exhilarating or fulfilling as that seamless toss or the last few seconds of a tied match. There's no doubt in my mind that it's what I was born to do. On the field, the guys respect me, listen, and trust me completely. And ever since my dyslexia diagnosis, I have to work twice as hard to prove I'm worth something.

  "Johnson! Run the other way!"

   "2 minutes left everyone. No time to pass out!"

  "Take that jockstrap off your face and get on the bleachers, Anthony."

  Okay, so maybe they only really listen when it's convenient for them.

  Our practice against Newtown Prep had gone as predicted. They're the best team in the league so it's no shock that they came out on top. My guys didn't take it too hard, just shook the other captain's hand and congratulated them for the sake of sportsmanship.

  "No worries guys, we'll do better next week. Now hit the showers, they won't let you back into the building if you smell like that!" I shouted back while discussing plays with my assistant coach.

  Now I have free time. What the hell am I going to do with it? Hang with Chris and Jared? Mega Halo tournament? Steal from the kitchen and piss off Wes? That could wor-

  "Sebastian? How long have you been out here? It's too chilly this morning to sit around. Is there a reason you didn't go in?"

   He hadn't gone in when I called the end of practice...twenty minutes ago. This means he's been alone on the sidelines, still drenched in sweat, allowing others to see his perfect hair flattened from the roughhousing.

  Something's not right.

  He glanced up from the muddy pitch, giving me all the information I needed. On his left cheek was a deep gash under his eye, an angry maroon color sure to stay for months. Sebastian looked guilty like I would be upset at him for sustaining an injury.

  "Before, well before the game, I wasn't watching where I was going and slipped on the pavement. I didn't want to delay anything so I played with the cut. I was worried that the guys would see me as weak if I went in the locker room bloody and hurt so I've been waiting for them to leave." He rushed out all in one breath.

  The assistant coach gave me a sympathetic smile and headed to the parking lot. By now the last player exited the bathrooms, catching up with the others on the way to the dorms.

  I slung Sebastian's duffle bag over my shoulder, extending my arm to assist him into his feet. "Come on, let's get that shiner fixed. Wouldn't want it to get infected." He hesitantly took my hand as we made our way off the field.

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  "You're not obligated to do this for me, it's my fault for not paying attention earlier." He avoided eye contact while I collected the first aid kit from my locker.

  Taking out bandages, disinfectant, and cotton pads I pulled him over to the sink, leaning him against the icy porcelain. "Nonsense, as the captain it's my responsibility to take care of any external injuries. It's no big deal, I want to help you. It's the least I can do for you after all you've done for me. Think of it as a thank you."

  When I put it that way he slowly nodded and eased his posture. "If you want to then I guess I should stop arguing. Besides, I wouldn't mind the pain in my side going away." He cursed under his breath when he realized his slip up.

  "Your side? There's more than the cut on your face? Sebastian, if you have other scratches I'm treating them too. Putting yourself in more misery isn't healing anything.

  He let out a sigh, rubbing his right arm timidly, finally staring straight at me with his emerald irises. Despite all the neglect and rejection they saw, his eyes still shone honest and genuine. "There's five more on my torso. Not as large as the one in my face but probably just as painful."

  "Take off your shirt."

  He wrapped his arms around himself, accidentally brushing one of the marks, and winced. "No way, I'm already letting you touch my face and that's enough." He replied in discomfort and agony.

  "Sorry, that was too upfront but you know that I only have good intentions. It'll be quick, not exactly painless for you, unfortunately. Though that dirty jersey is making it worse."

  He reluctantly lifted the material over his head, exposing a sea of scars and one impressive set of abs. Who knew Smythe was shredded? No, you're here to clean his wounds, not obsess over his six-pack.

  "Ehem? Hunter, can we get this done? It's forty degrees in here and this sink is kinda digging into my back." He followed my gaze and blushed to his ears. "Not to mention I'm shirtless."

  I got to work dabbing the disinfectant onto cotton pads and prepared to wipe them on his marred skin. Why is this so awkward? You've done this for over half of the team in less than ideal places to get scratched.

  The second the cool pad contacted with the scars he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut and biting his bottom lip. I wish I could take away his suffering, all that stinging ache making him seem feeble and powerless. Because he's not. He's secure, strong, and the most valiant person I've ever met.

  Eventually, the squirming died down and he opened his eyes again. By then I had finished his midriff and made my way up to his cheek. A small whimper escaped when the antiseptic grazed the gash.

  "I'm almost done Sebastian, believe me, I hate this just as much as you do. I'll understand if you can't make practice next week. And maybe I can talk with the guys about the way they've treated you. It's not fair that you feel the need to hide your bruises from them for fear of embarrassment. This team relies on acceptance and security, they could use a reminder."

He whispered an "I'd like that" as I set aside the cotton round and wet a washcloth with lukewarm water. The scars had all been cleaned so all that was left was to remove the dried blood from his lips and chin.

  I gently tilted his chin up, allowing me to get closer and pick out the dirt. The washcloth rubbed his slightly parted lips, rosy and chapped from the early autumnal rawness. We both looked up from the towel, giving each other a questioning glance.

  My hand cupped the back of his head while the other gripped the edge of the sink. It felt like time froze as we gradually approached near the space between us. It was so natural, neither of us able to sever the desire.

  Suddenly we were only an inch away, our heartbeats matched, noses just barely joining. What in the world caused this? Why do you want to kiss him so much? Friends don't want to kiss each other. Most importantly, straight guys don't want to kiss their friends. Do you want to throw caution to the wind? Yes.

  But Sebastian slowly backed away, heading towards the door, tears threatening to spill any second.

  "I can't. At least not yet."

  That was all he said before fleeing. To avoid kissing me.

  Hey guys! Ouch, that chapter hurt in more than one way. But I'm so happy that I got the motivation to write and I'm pretty satisfied with the way it went. Huntbastian is probably my favorite couple to write about seeing as I can essentially make up whatever I want. A second and much shorter chapter will be posted soon after this one so don't forget to check that out. Keep voting, commenting, and coming back for more Warbler shenanigans! Have a great morning, afternoon, or night. You are defended by those who love you!

You're fellow gleek,
  - Lindsay 💕