Page 111 of Hurt

“Sit down.” Kurt slung an arm around him and helped him limp to the couch. “What were you doing?”

Pushing disheveled hair from his face, the man grinned crookedly. “Work.”

His face was so pale that his bright hazel eyes sparkled in contrast. There was a tiredness about him that gave him a softer look. A casualness that didn’t always go with Grant.

Kurt ripped at the buttons. The shirt was already ruined, so he didn’t bother to take his time. Kneeling on the couch beside Grant, he parted the shirt and examined the wound.

Blood was seeping from a four-inch horizontal laceration just above Grant’s hip. It looked mostly superficial, but Kurt needed to stop the bleeding.

Standing, Kurt ran to the single bathroom in the home and grabbed a towel. Instructing Grant to hold it against his wound, he grabbed the first aid kit Grant had been using on him. Setting the plastic kit on the coffee table, he took over handling the blood.

Smelling the copper tang brought back a flood of unpleasant emotions. It felt like something was sticking in the back of his throat, and he noticed his hands were shaking. Gritting his teeth, he ignored the tremors. This wasn’t the time for cowardice.

“Are you okay?” Grant asked softly.

He didn’t know Grant had been watching him. “You’re bleeding, but I’m the one you’re worried about?”

“Yes,” Grant responded with a huff, reaching out to touch a loose strand of Kurt’s hair. He was careful to just touch the tips, not getting any closer than that.

Kurt couldn’t look him in the eyes, so he focused on his work. He didn’t manage to get the bleeding to stop completely, but he wrapped the wound in clean bandaging. His hands lingered on the gauze.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He fidgeted and felt the warmth of Grant’s skin through the bandaging. Would his body recoil in horror if he touched the warmth of Grant’s skin? Would his instincts take over, or would his soul recognize Grants and settle into his warmth and safety?

“For being so hard to love.”

He could see Grant smile on the edge of his vision. Moving slowly, he reached for Kurt’s chin. With a single finger, he applied just enough pressure so Kurt would look up.

“Loving you is easy. Conquering your demons is difficult. But Wanyin.” His smile deepened when their eyes finally met.

“I have always loved a challenge.”

Kurt closed his eyes against more tears and leaned against that single finger holding his head up. Grant would not allow him to look down on himself. He would never allow his hate and loathing to choke him.

He was going to say more when there was a banging on the door. Angry fists slammed into the wood until it rattled in its frame.

Grant was up before Kurt had time to process. One hand pushing Kurt behind him and the other reaching for the knife at his thigh.

“Go upstairs.” The softness in his voice was gone. A hard edge had come over Grant. Even shirtless and wrapped up in bandages, he moved lethally.

Kurt glared at the back of his head. “I’m not going to leave you here alone.”

“You’re injured.”

“So are you.”

Grant groaned in frustration but left off the argument. Sliding up to the window, he looked out behind the curtains and relaxed.

The door shuddered again. “Kurt! Open the door, asshole.”

“It’s for you,” Grant said dryly.

He sheathed his knife and touched his wound. “I will give you two some privacy.”

Kurt stared at the door in horror. He had been avoiding Willow. He wasn’t ready.