Whisk Me Away (Septiplier)

~ THIRTEEN ~

When I woke up again, I found that my warm "pillow" was gone and I was alone in my bed. I sat up, the warm covers falling off of me. I rubbed my eyes, yawning again. Attempting to stretch, I accidently yelped at the piercing pain that shot through my back. "Shit!"

Seconds later, Mark hurried in to see me hissing in pain. "Jack, when was the last time you changed your bandage?"

I looked up at him as he sat down next to me, poking at the cloth beneath my shirt. "Uh, you're supposed to do that?"

Mark sighed, pulling his hands away. "Stay here, I'll be right back." I waited patiently as he stood up and hurried out of the room. Moments later he returned with something wrapped in plastic and a bottle. He paused at the edge of the bed, looking at me with a  look that bordered on nervous."...uh, just scoot over."

I moved over and he sat behind me. I could hear the tear of plastic behind me, and a quiet sigh. "Um, thank you, Mark." I mumbled, blushing.

"Oh, no problem," He sighed again, this time louder. "It's not this, it's, uh, personal issues."

I nodded, looking at him over my shoulder. He gave me a forced smile, and I gave him a real one. "Let me know if you need me to help you, okay?" I turned back around. "I may not look it, but I'm great with advice."

Mark chuckled behind me, and I shivered. His chuckle was deep, and he was so close to my ear.

Fuck, keep it in your pants, Jack. This certainly isn't the time in your life to start questioning sexuality.

"Do you mind taking off your shirt?"

"Oh," I laughed, sliding off the red Birthday Massacre shirt I had been wearing. Mark had bought it for me after I told him about my obsession with alternative music. "Yeah, sorry."

"It's fine." I gasped as his cold hands found my back. "S-Sorry!"

"N-No," I bit my lip. "That was okay, s-sorry." Stop fucking stuttering, he'll figure out you're weirdly getting aroused by your friend touching your back. His cold cold hands, gliding across your skin...

I shook away my thoughts.

"I know my hands are cold, I'm sorry. I was roaming around the freezer trying to find some breakfast." Mark pulled free the old bloody bandage, and I sighed in relief as the cool air hit my feverish skin. "Damn, Jack! You really need to get into the habit of cleaning your wounds."

I laughed, "Sorry, Dad."

Mark froze behind me, his hands still resting on my back. His hand grabbed my face, turning me to look at him. His eyes were stern. "Do not call me Dad."

I smirked, "Kay Daddy."

"I'm serious."

"Okay, I'll stop."

"Alright, thank you. Now hold still while I disinfect it."

"Got it Daddy."

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