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Stupid. Always so fucking stupid. Something always goes wrong when he's sent out by himself, Toby's come to learn. Last time, he met a one-eared cat that had scratched up his sleeves before running away, and this time, he cut himself. An actively bleeding gash high up on his thigh, red drooling onto his jeans. Fuck, now he needs new jeans. As if this day couldn't get any worse.
At least it's late when he gets back to the Manor. Running into Tim, Brian or— god forbid—Jeff would make him want to blast his brains out. Still, he doesn't exactly want to deal with this alone, and now that he's looking at it with proper lighting, it looks sort of yellow-ish? Fuck. Now he has to visit the doctor.
EJ isn't particularly scary or anything, visiting him is always just awkward. He doesn't talk much, and Toby always talks too much, so the overall experience just isn't pleasant. Whatever. He'll do what has to be done and suck it up so he can get some antibiotics and maybe a new pack of bandages.
"H-hey, Doc," are the first words out of Toby's mouth, and he cringes. I sound like a fucking loser.
Trying not to think about it, he walks into the 'hospital' room and takes a seat on one of the cold metal clinic beds. He still wonders where they were taken from, but he's not going to ask. That'd be weird. He doesn't want to be weird.
EJ looks normal. Well, not normal, but. The same as he always does. Pale gray skin, sharp nails, sharper teeth, goop filled eye sockets. Normal. How does he even see, without eyes? That's a rude question though, so he stays silent.
He realizes that he's just been staring at EJ for the last minute or so instead of telling him why he's actually here, which is embarrassing. Is his face getting warmer? He shifts in his spot, suddenly uncomfortable.
"Haha, uh, c-come here off- often?" Oh god. Why is that what his mouth decided to say? What's wrong with him?
EJ just tilts his head to the side. "I'm.. always here," he replies, and Toby wants to disappear.
"N-no, I know, I-I," he doesn't know what to say, so he abandons the topic entirely. "I'm bleeding." Like he hasn't already soaked the examination table paper that he's sitting on.
"I see," EJ says, and nothing else. So awkward.
"Aha, w-well, can you h-help?" Obviously he can help, he's a doctor. He hates his mouth. It never consults his brain.
"Remove your pants." What?
At Toby's stunned expression, he elaborates, "I can't examine it, like this." Oh.
"Of- Of course." It takes a few extra seconds for his body to get with the program, but he shimmies out of his jeans quick enough, focusing on the tile floor and not the snap of EJ pulling on gloves.
He feels fingers prodding at his bare skin, and the rubber feels weird against him. Wrong, somehow. But it would be weirder to ask EJ to take off the gloves, right? He's glad he doesn't blurt the idea out.
"I g-got it fr- from this chain-link fence," he starts to explain, because the silence is getting to be unbearable at this point. "F-fucking son of a b-bitch got c-caught on my way ou- out."
EJ doesn't respond, which makes him feel both better and worse. He'll just pretend the other man can't hear him, even if that's furthest from the truth.
"H-had t-to break in- into this fuh- fucking house, the wh-whole place was ch- chained off. Fucking annoy-ying," Toby continues as EJ focuses on his wound. It's almost therapeutic in a way, being able to complain into the void that is EJ. Maybe he should visit him more often.
When EJ steps back, Toby startles. He forgot that he was a living, breathing person. Embarrassing.
"It's infected," EJ says, and how fantastic is that?
"Ah, is i-it real- really?" Toby asks, even though it's fucking obvious when he looks at it. EJ just nods in response. Great. Like he doesn't have enough to deal with.
"What are those?" EJ asks suddenly, and Toby blinks.
"Wuh- What are wh- what?"
EJ doesn't respond verbally. Instead, he steps closer again, gloved fingers trailing against the bare skin of Toby's thigh. It takes him a minute to remember how to breathe.
"The sc- scars?" Toby asks, and EJ nods. "I-I didn't think th- that they w-were rare."
"They're not," EJ says, which confuses him. If they're not rare, then why is he asking?
His confusion must show on his face, because EJ sighs. "They.. fascinate me," he explains. "Why do you do it?"
Toby blinks again. Why does he do it? He's never really thought about it much—he's never had to explain himself before.
"Wuh- well, I.." he trails off. How does he even begin to answer a question like that? "I-I don't kn- know. It's d-different every t-time."
EJ nods again, and it's weird to have his full attention like this, when he's hanging off every word he says. He feels so.. exposed. Funny, that him taking his pants off wasn't what made him feel that way, but just him being listened to.
"Tell me about it," EJ says when the silence stretches. "I want to know."
Okay. Wow, uhm. He's not really sure where to start. What would count as too much information? Would anything? He did say he wanted to know…
"Uh, I-I.. suh- sometimes i-it's like a t-test," he begins, because it's the most tame reason he has. "L-like, how muh- much can my body h-handle before it fails."
Again, EJ just nods. His face isn't helping with gauging how he feels about this information. God, Toby regrets coming down here. He should've just wrapped it himself and hoped for the best.
"Is there another reason?" EJ inquires. He's too fucking observant, fuck.
Toby knows his face is probably doing something obvious and giving him away, but he's too busy drowning in his embarrassment.
"S-sometimes, it's buh- because I l-like to make m-myself bleed."
Oh, god. Why did he admit that? Surely EJ's about to call him a pathetic freak. He'll kick him out of the clinic and tell everybody. God, fuck.
"You.. like it?" Is all EJ says for a minute or two. The silence is horrible and his shame crushes him more and more every second. "May I?"
Toby blinks once, twice. "Wuh- What?"
"May I try something? EJ asks.
"Uhm." He doesn't know what to say. "S-sure?"
EJ steps away again to wheel his instrument tray closer to the cot Toby's sitting on. It's lined with various surgical tools, though EJ only picks up a an antiseptic wipe, cleansing a small section of Toby's thigh. When EJ grabs a scalpel off the tray, his brain glitches out.
"Y-you're gonna cut m-me?" He blurts out.
"Yes," EJ says when he looks up. "Is that alright?"
Holy fuck. All of the blood in his brain immediately rushed south. Fuck, he doesn't have any pants on. It's definitely obvious. Fuck. He manages a nod anyways.
The blade presses against his skin. Of course, he can't feel the burn of his skin splitting, but he can feel the pressure of it. He barely holds back a whimper.
"This seems to be quite stimulating for you," EJ notes. He says it so casually that it takes several moments for Toby's brain to catch up.
"Suh- Sorry, I d-didn't mean to.." EJ shushes him. Normally, he would be offended, but right now it just makes him twitch inside his briefs.
Again, EJ grabs an antiseptic wipe and preps another patch of skin before slicing into it. Blood dots the wound, then overflows and trails down his leg. There's a wet patch on his underwear, right where his tip is.
"Fascinating," EJ comments. He seems so unaffected by it all.
Is there a way he could subtly jerk off right now? Is that possible? Would EJ even mind?
Suddenly, there's a hand on him. He jolts, looking down to see one of EJ's gloved hands cupping his cock through straining fabric. Holy shit.
"Mmnh, wuh- what're you..?" He trails off. Isn't this what he wanted?
A whimper is pulled from him when EJ squeezes. Then, an even louder one, when EJ pulls his cock out through the slit in his briefs.
"Oh my g-god," he whines quietly as EJ's hand wraps around his twitching length. He's definitely not going to last long.
EJ isn't even doing anything really, he's just holding his cock, but Toby's leaking all over those blue nitrile gloves. Christ.
EJ cuts him again, deeper this time, and he moans watching his own blood drip down his thigh.
"F-fuck, please, puh- please," He begs. He can barely even get the words out. "M-muh- my blood, u-use it."
EJ glances up at him for a few seconds, and he can only imagine what he looks like right now. Fuck, he needs this so bad.
"That is.. unsanitary," EJ says, his hand leaving Toby's cock, and the boy nearly weeps. He panics for a moment, but EJ just scoops up some of his blood before returning his hand to Toby's dick.
"Fuck," Toby moans, louder than the situation calls for. EJ's not even moving his had, for Christ's sake. He feels like he can't breathe.
EJ cuts deep again, hand stroking up once, and Toby nearly cums right then and there.
"O-oh god, mmh, fuh- fuck," he can't think right now. "Fuck, fuck, g-god.."
He's bleeding. Fuck, he's bleeding and it's red and sticky on his cock and it feels so fucking good that he barely even feels the rubber of EJ's gloves anymore.
White spurts over EJ's gloved fingers, onto Toby's sweater, and a bit lands on his leg. EJ stares for a few extra moments, then pulls his hand away, peeling off the soiled gloves and replacing them with fresh ones.
He's still dazed as EJ cleans him up, barely registering the cloth wiping blood and cum from his softened cock, the bandages being wrapped around his thigh. EJ even tucks his flaccid member back into his underwear for him. How kind.
"Thank you," EJ says, and it's so genuine that it startles him out of his haze.
"Uh, n-no problem, man. An- anytime." He pulls up his pants, because he's not really sure what else he's supposed to do.
EJ puts two rolls of bandages and a bottle of pills in his hands. He hadn't even seen the man grab them.
"Take one every morning until they run out," EJ tells him as he stands up. Toby just nods dumbly, walking out of the clinic with his head stuffed full of cotton.
Huh. Maybe he should swing by more often.