a different use for celebratory alcohol
"You don't have to touch it,"He said, suddenly rigid. "I really don't plan too. Anyway, I think it's pretty cool. I've met amputees before, but yours is by far the most advanced!" You started to ramble nervously. He managed to relax a little so you went to get a wet washcloth. When you get back hes sitting on the floor. You must have had a confused look on your face because he said,"Dont wanna get your couch dirty." You think he means bloody, but you don't correct him. You laughed dryly, "Please. Get on the couch. Its fine." He still looked upset but he sat on the couch. You sat next to him and told him he needed to stay calm, and still so you could clean his wounds. You slowy but firmly dabbed the washcloth on his face to get the dried blood off. You already figured out most of the blood isn't his, so its not suprising theres no injury on his face. You then wiped down his chest. Your face was burning red. He was ripped. You could have sworn he chuckled when you reached his abs. After the dried blood was off, you bandaged a cut on his chest and realized you forgot his legs. Fuck. "Ok," you say "Theres not much i can do for your arm, so i need to check your legs. I can probably find some shorts. Is that alright?" He nodded and started to take off his shoes. You went into yout rooms, hastily looking for an exes shorts. Aha! You searched the closet and found a pair of shorts that looked his size. You went back into the living room and said, "I found some shorts. I dont want you walking until I've checked out your legs, so you can stay here and get dressed while I find some snacks."
He said "Okay. But there's, uh, one thing." "Yeah?" You asked looking at him. "I'll be leaving in the morning. I have these... let's say 'episodes' and I'd rather not hurt anyone...." You smiled reassuringly, "Don't you worry!! I'll help as much as I can. I don't think you'll hurt me, I can run pretty fast." You chuckled.
You walked to the kitchen, looking through the pantry. You called out,"You like poptarts?" "Never had em." You gasped dramatically. "How!? Poptarts are lifes greatest invention. I bet you're a cinnamon poptart guy." You grab the whole box and a water bottle. He looked hungry, and dehydrated. Honestly, you could go on about how bad he looked but you went back into the living room. He was in the shorts you got him. You forgot about those. As your face burned red at the very attractive, barely dressed, man on your couch, you opened a poptart. "It's great," you said "It's like, cinnamon heaven. It might make your tummy hurt, so I'll make something in a few." You cursed yourself mentally for saying 'tummy'. You were such a child!
He still looked very uncomfortable. Was he still hurt? Hm..... Shit! His leg! You gave him the poptart then went to wet a towel. You started gently scrubbing his leg, when you discovered a bullet in his calf. "Shit," you said,"There's a bullet." He munched on the poptart and said "Got any pain pills? You can pull it right out." You almost throw up. "I'll.... have to stitch it. I have Advil. That should help the pain a bit. One sec..."You ran to the bathroom, grabbing Advil, needles, and floss. Oh my god, I'm going to stitch someone up with floss, you thought. You dropped those off on the table in the living room and made your way to the kitchen. You grabbed some beer with (a lot of) alcohol in it. You're suddenly relieved you saved it for a special occasion, even if it's not the type you had in mind. You approached Mr. Bleeding Man and handed him the beer. "Drink some. It'll help with the pain." He took a big gulp, and started on his 3rd pack of poptarts. You heard him grumble,"Hell yes, I'm a cinnamon poptart guy." You smiled to yourself but grabbed the tweezers. You took the beer and the poptarts from him slowly and set them on the table. "Cant have you choking to death after all this." You say while quickly pulling the bullet out. The stranger let out only a gasp. He handled pain well. You didn't want to know if it was from experience. You poured a small amount of rubbing alcohol(from the med kit) on his wound then grabbed the needle and floss. He hissed and took another gulp of the beer. "You're doing great," you said,"We're halfway done."