Even Now

Chapter 27: High For This

⚠️ Smut warning! ⚠️

Also I was listening to The Weeknd as I wrote this... damn his songs are sexy as hell!
Here's the song I repeated a lot for 'inspiration' lol (attached above)

Also... I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far!! I have no real way of knowing other than just asking 😅

On to the story...

***

Layne sits on the edge of the other bed in Jerry's hotel room, holding ice wrapped in cloth to his bloody forehead.
Jerry walks out of the bathroom with bandages, water and small towels, kneeling down in front of Layne as he assesses the damage done.

Layne looks for a second into Jerry's bright blue eyes, the worry he finds in them overwhelming him with guilt again. He looks away.
Jerry uses his hand to gently turn Layne's chin back to face him, wordlessly taking a cloth and dabbing the cut on the bridge of his nose.
Layne just closes his eyes, wanting to avoid any and all eye contact.

Jerry puts a bandage over the cut on Layne's nose, moving on to reposition the ice in Layne's hand over his swollen black eye.
In response to this, Layne uses his free eye to look at Jerry, the pure concern he finds on his face immediately melting his cold exterior.

"How did you know where I was?" Layne mutters softly, watching as Jerry uses another cloth to clean the blood from Layne's forehead.

"I just... I had the worst feeling," Jerry admits, avoiding Layne's gaze. "Like I was gonna be sick... I just knew. I knew something was wrong. And when I heard people down by our old room, yelling like there was a fight or something, I just knew something'd happened to you."

"Yeah, but how? Could've been anybody fighting that guy."

Jerry stops what he's doing to look down, and then back at Layne, his brow furrowed. "I don't know, I- I just... knew."

Layne closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. He pushes Jerry's hands away, grabbing the cloth as he puts it down.

Jerry stops him. "Layne, please. Let me take care of you."

Layne looks at him, rolling his eyes as he gives in.

Not a lot is said between them again.

Then a few minutes go by.

"How's your chest?" Jerry asks him out of the blue.

Layne shrugs. "Guy didn't kick me too hard. Don't think my ribs are broken or anything."

"Right. You'd probably be in a lot more pain..."

Jerry stands, stopping when Layne grabs his arm.

"Thanks. For helping me, and all," he says, still unable to look him in the eyes.

Jerry bends down again, eyes searching Layne's.
He softly kisses his forehead. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you sooner."

Layne slouches for a moment before tensing up again. "Wait. What's that supposed to mean?"

Jerry sits beside him, arms crossed. "That I didn't get there in time to... to help you beat that guy up."

Carefully chosen words... still, I see right through you, Cantrell.

"Right," Layne nods. "Or do you mean to have stopped me from going after that guy's drugs?"

Jerry narrows his eyes. "Why-"

"It wasn't like I was gonna smoke it as soon as I got home, or anything," Layne blurts out. "I-I don't know why I had to go for it, I just... I just thought, y'know, it'd been awhile, and maybe I could save it for when I needed it. Then Demri wouldn't ask questions because I wouldn't have had to use money to buy anything. It just looked... easy..."