Cas shrugged a shoulder and winced as his side twinged. “So, talk.”
“You’re hurt,” Jonah snapped, as if that was somehow Cas’s fault. Typical Jonah.
“I’ll be fine.”
Jonah moved toward him. “Let me look at it.”
Cas gestured with the gun, attempting to maintain the upper hand. “You said we need to talk.”
Jonah huffed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “We do need to talk, but I’m not talking until I see how badly you’re hurt.”
“Yeah, well, I’m naked, so I feel like I’m at a distinct disadvantage. Again.”
“You have a gun pointed at my head,” Jonah reminded him, tone bland.
Cas stared him down. “We both know you could take it from me if you wanted.”
Before Cas could even register the movement, Jonah had the gun from him, setting it out of reach. Frustration twisted Cas’s guts. He’d had it coming, he supposed, but Jonah could never just let him have anything. Before Cas could say as much, Jonah pulled his shirt over his head. “W-What are you doing?” he stuttered, wanting to kick himself.
“Taking my clothes off,” Jonah said, as if it were the most obvious thing ever.
Cas supposed it was, but yet, it also wasn’t. “Why?”
Jonah’s full lips twisted into the barest hint of a smile. “So you’re not the only one at a disadvantage.”
It was a stupid fucking answer, but Cas didn’t know what to say, so he sat there, torso tangled in the sheets as he watched Jonah strip in the moonlight. The light loved Jonah. It danced across his body, highlighting every graceful curve and taut muscle. He was breathtaking, like some sculpture in a museum. Yeah, that was Jonah, sculpted by the Gods, whereas Cas had been Frankensteined together from spare parts, his brain too fractured and chaotic to ever be one whole person. Cas was just bits and pieces of places and people and scars and ink that made up one barely functioning person. He blinked, trying to pull himself together, but without his medication, he found it hard to focus.
Cas turned his head as Jonah’s hands went to the button of his jeans. He heard the clothing as it pooled at Jonah’s feet, and Cas’s body responded accordingly.
The mattress sank with Jonah’s weight. Jonah’snakedweight. “Now, let me see. Where are you hurt?”
Cas thought he might argue once more but decided there was no point to it. Jonah always got what he wanted in the end. He rolled onto his side, lowering the sheet, lifting his arm to reveal his injury.
Jonah sucked his teeth at the bloody bandage, snarling as he pulled it away from the wound. “Christ, Cas. Tell me you didn’t do this yourself.”
“No, I stopped at Home Depot. They stitch you up for free when you buy a staple gun,” Cas snarked, glancing over his shoulder at Jonah, who gave him a baleful look. “Yeah, I did it myself. Who the fuck else was going to do it?”
“A drunken toddler could have done a better job.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry, Doc. There were no toddlers available. You try stapling a six-inch gash while doing sixty in a yellow cab, and then come talk to me about accuracy.”
“Well, you’re going to have an ugly scar at the very least, and you’ll be lucky if you don’t get an infection.”
“What’s one more scar?” Cas mumbled.
“Jesus, Cas. Just let me fix it.”
Cas once more craned his head to blink at Jonah. “Fix it? As in, take out the staples and do it over? Yeah, no fucking way. I have plenty of scars. I don’t need to look pretty for anybody.”
Jonah grunted. “You’re a stubborn fucking ass, you know that? Half the staples are already ripping through the skin. I really thought I taught you better than this. Tell me you at least have a first aid kit in your bag.”
Cas said nothing, preferring to fume in the darkness. He jabbed his thumb at the bag beside the bed, his breath catching as Jonah leaned over him to grab the backpack. Cas snatched it from his hands, fishing the first aid kit out and handing it to him. There wasn’t anything in there he didn’t want Jonah to see, but he needed to hold on to some control. He was spiraling. “There, do your worst.”
“Light,” Jonah barked.
“Would a ‘please’ kill you?” Cas asked, sounding bratty, even to his own ears, as he switched on the lamp.
Jonah didn’t respond, already focusing on the task at hand. Cas’s insides trembled at the tender way Jonah’s fingers probed the swollen damaged skin of the wound, like he wanted to minimize Cas’s pain. He didn’t want to think about Jonah being nice to him, about the way Jonah touched him, about how they were both naked in bed together. So, he forced himself to think of something else, anything else. Like, where was Jonah’s concern for Cas’s pain when he’d spanked him over and over again? Each time Cas thought of it, he flushed, equal parts humiliated and turned on.Fuck Jonah. Fuck him for real. No, not for real. Jesus.Cas really needed his Adderall.
