runningred | After Autor's day takes a very bad turn.

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{from here}

Jay's room is largish but not overly. A big bed takes up one corner with a workbench and lockers running down one wall. Through the open bathroom door, Autor might glimpse a massive and overly decadent shower. The bench is littered with tools and plans, half finished projects and mysterious objects. There's a small kitchenette and a wet-bar tucked out of the way.

Jay guides Autor to a seat at the workbench, fetching a bowl of warm, disinfectant smelling water from the bathroom. He pulls up a stool and takes Autor's hand, beginning clean the torn tissue.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

herr_bookman

It hurts, but everything hurts right now. Autor sits placidly, exhaustion settling in his bones. "Thanks," he murmurs. "Jay... Thank you. For everything."

He glances around slowly. "Are you aware that your shower is ridiculous?"

From:

runningred

Jay laughs softly, very carefully aligning the broken skin. "Oh, I know how ridiculous my shower is. The bar felt I needed a bigger one. For entertaining."

He sighs, "You're going to need a couple of stitches, or some time with a healer." He gets up and presses a hand to the front of one of the lockers. The surface around his hand lights up and there's a click somewhere deep inside before it opens. He takes out a somewhat more extensive first aid kit. The sort the military might use.

From:

herr_bookman

Autor sniffles, nodding. "Stitches... Fine. That's fine," he says, and cradles his head in his good hand while Jay's rooting around in the locker.

"So I fell in love with someone today," he starts, unsure as to why he's speaking. "It... So, in my world, words have power? And my life is controlled by a Story."

From:

runningred

Jay nods and pulls gloves on, spraying local anaesthetic onto Autor's broken skin and encouraging him to keep talking.

He cups Autor's hand waiting for the painkiller to kick in before carefully stitching here and there where needed. He's very good at this and the stitches are even and clean.

From:

herr_bookman

"That's--good job," Autor says, impressed by the stitching. He wants to fidget or rub the back of his neck or clutch his arm--but Jay needs his hands, so...

"So the Story made me--except not really, because I recognized that it was the Story, and fell in love with her anyway," he babbles quietly, nerves lacing restless energy under his skin. "And she wanted me to die for her, so... So I said I would. And then she laughed."

From:

runningred

"I've had a lot of practice." He acknowledges with a half smile. "Some of it on myself."

Jay finishes and wraps Autor's hand to keep it immobile for a while. He listens intently the whole time.

Once he's done, he sheds the gloves and reaches up to cup Autor's cheek. "It isn't love, not if it's forced on you like that." He strokes his thumb gently over the curve of Autor's jaw.

From:

herr_bookman

Autor glances down at his fingers and traces his tongue over his bottom lip. "But I chose it," he says miserably. "I... I recognized that the Story was doing it, and went along with it."

From:

runningred

"Why?" Jay asks softly, stroking his thumb over Autor's lower lip with gentle distraction. "Why let it take you?"

From:

herr_bookman

Autor gasps softly. Jay's thumb on his lip feels too good. "B-Because I thought it was my role," he explains. "I've... I thought I was someone w-who could control the Story--and I built my life around it--but I'm... I'm not."

Tears prick his eyes again--but he forces them to stay there. "I thought I was the protagonist, but I'm just some side character. I'm frankly useless. Even my name--Autor, Author--is a sick joke."

From:

runningred

Jay leans forward and kisses him softly. "You're not a side character. You never have been."

From:

herr_bookman

The boy gasps, shivering in Jay's hold. "I don't want to use you," he says, trembling. A flush blooms on his cheeks, but he doesn't draw away. "And... I'll be thinking of her. That's not fair to you either."

From:

runningred

"You're not using me." Jay says again, a little stronger. "It's okay to think of her but be with me. Let me help you put her aside. Free yourself from the story and be who you are, who you want to be."

From:

herr_bookman

Who do I want to be? Autor thinks, raising his good hand to close his fingers around Jay's wrist.

It's a good question, and one Autor has never had to consider before.

I still want to rule the world.

But I want to help my friends.

I want to love. Deliriously. And be loved.

The boy sighs, his gaze softening.

And I want... I want my first time to not be born of pain.

He turns his head and kisses Jay's palm. "I can't. I'm sorry," he whispers. "I don't love you."

From:

runningred

Jay drops his hands and nods, turning himself to the task of packing away his things.

"Get Guppy or one of the other docs to check out your hand tomorrow. The bandages with need changing every day." He doesn't look at Autor as he puts everything back into the locker and tosses the blooded gloves in a biohazard container.

"Keep your hand flat and straight for a couple of days at least." His words are light and to the point, covering how forced they are.

"You've managed to stave off shock so you should be fine to sleep now. But I'd take some pain killers if I was you."

From:

herr_bookman

Being on both sides of rejection in a day makes Autor's head spin.

"I will," the boy says, also lightly. He glances down to his hands. "I'll head out, now."

He stands and straightens his blazer, wincing as the action pulls on his stitches. As he steps to the door, he glances over his shoulder.

"Thanks Jay," Autor whispers.

From:

runningred

Jay stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder has he turns, looking him in the eye. "Autor, I understand. And I'm not angry with you. I hope you understand that. Please, look after yourself."