Stoic


by Slash Priestess

RATED G

“OUCH!”

Ray looked up from setting the table and over to Benny, who was in the kitchen chopping vegetables for the salad. Benny was squeezing his left index finger in his right hand. Moving to the sink, he turned on the cold water and held his finger under it.

“What happened?” Ray asked, hurrying over to Benny.

“I cut my finger,” Benny hissed.

“Let’s see.” Ray took Benny’s hand and looked at the cut on his finger. “That doesn’t look too bad. It won’t need stitches, anyway.”

“It really hurts,” Benny said.

Ray fought back a grin, but at the same time he was relieved. If Benny was complaining, it couldn’t be that bad at all.

If there was something seriously wrong, Benny would brush it off. Bullet wound? Stabbing? Plane-crash induced head trauma? No big deal, everything is fine.

But let him twist an ankle or bruise a shin or, say, cut himself while chopping vegetables, and he could whine and complain enough to rival even Ray.

But, Ray reflected, Benny had been stoic about far too many things in his life for far too many years. He deserved to do a little whining. And he deserved to receive a lot of attention.

Ray pulled the first aid kit from under the sink, then loosely wrapped Benny’s finger in a paper towel and led him to the kitchen table. “Let’s see,” he said again, laying Benny’s hand on the table and unfolding the paper towel under his finger.

He opened the first aid kit and took out the small bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a cotton ball. “This is going to sting,” Ray warned, and Benny nodded.

“If you’re a good and brave boy, I’ll buy you ice cream,” Ray said teasingly, and Benny made a face at him.

Ray soaked the cotton ball with the hydrogen peroxide and wiped it over the cut.

Benny drew in a sharp, hissing breath and clenched his teeth. Pulling his hand away from Ray’s he blew on his finger, then shook the finger gently back and forth.

“Better?” Ray said, and Benny nodded. Ray placed Benny’s hand on the paper towel again, and pulled a gauze pad, a roll of tape, and a tube of Neosporin ointment from the first aid kit.

Opening the tube of ointment, he squeezed some onto the gauze pad, then wrapped the gauze around Benny’s finger and taped it into place. “Does that feel better?” Ray asked.

Benny crooked his finger a few times and nodded. “Much better.”

“Good.” Ray placed a kiss on the injured finger.

“Ray, that’s unsanitary,” Benny said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. The human mouth carries hundreds of germs.”

“Oh.” Ray leaned closer. “That’s too bad,” he said, his lips on top of Benny’s.

“Yes Ray,” Benny whispered, “it’s most unfortunate indee-” His words were cut off as Ray kissed him, and his sentence turned into a sigh.

Ray pulled away, giving Benny a smile and a quick kiss on the forehead; then began placing the items he had used back into the first aid kit.

Benny watched him as he closed the lid and carried the first aid kit back to the sink. “Ray?”

“Yeah, Benny?” Ray closed the cupboard and turned around.

“Would you say that I was brave and uncomplaining while you treated my finger?”

“Yes Benny, you were a great patient.”

Benny nodded. “Well, I believe I was promised ice cream.”

“So you were.”

Benny raised his eyebrows. “Well?”

Ray grinned. “What, you want it now?”

“Yes please.”

“Before dinner, when it could ruin your appetite?”

“Yes.”

Ray walked over to Benny and took his hand, pulling him to his feet. “You’re going to want a double scoop, aren’t you?”

Benny slipped his arm around Ray’s waist. “Yes. And sprinkles.”

They left the apartment, Ray’s laughter trailing behind them.

THE END

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