The Master [MxMxM+]

34

Jet didn't land as badly as he thought he would but everything was ringing in his ears.

He saw the color red hit the floor in drops before he felt the dampness on his temple.

Everything moved slowly around him while he felt like all of his blood was rushing to his ears.

With the last of his strength, Jet scrambled off Pierre, probably the only reason he hadn't blacked out yet.

He knew that they had rolled a few or several times with Pierre holding his waist in a death grip. And by the time they stopped, they probably had about a thousand bruises.

Jet was still stunned from his fall when he tried to check up on Pierre and make sure he was okay, but for a moment he couldn't lift a finger, much less go to him.

He didn't know how long he stayed that way but after a while, Jet felt hands around him as he got the feeling that that people were everywhere around him.

His blurry vision didn't help, he didn't know who had him. But something about the touch was very familiar.

When everything started to clear, Jet noticed that they were headed to the house as the Master's grim face came into focus.

No sooner had Jet been set on the kitchen counter than he noticed Pierre in Riley's arms.

He tried to squirm out of Alexander's hold, trying to reach out to Pierre. He had to know he was alright.

Pain shot through his hand when he tried to move his arm. He retracted himself reflexively.

"Relax, Riley's got him," the Master said. When the words finally computed, he nodded his head.

"What were you thinking? Were you trying to risk your life for just one game?" The Master asked.

"You wouldn't understand," said Jet. He looked like he wanted to add to it, say something more, but he didn't.

More than you know, I know you have a hard life, I fucking know.

"Anything could have happened to you," Alexander said while fishing out some alcohol.

"I'm okay."

"No you're not."

"Are you just scared?"

Fuck yes. "You should be, for yourself. You could be in worse condition if Pierre had not broken your fall. He said he caught you, but somehow you still hit your head, you have bruises all over. Just think about it, if he actually wasn't there."

"I'm okay," said Jet. This time he sounded just a little out of it. He'd not even heard Pierre saying anything.

Mason brought towels and handed some to Alexander while he dabbed his in the alcohol and started cleaning Jet's other bruises.

He wasn't saying anything, but the look on his face was scary. He was spacing out so much that when Alexander touched his hand to stop him, he flinched.

"That's enough Mason," he took the towel from his hand.

Mason let it go and stepped back, cradling the alcohol bottle against his chest and staring at Jet's hands.