“He just got a lucky shot,” Ben spat, wincing slightly at the feeling of disinfectant. {{user}} had been adamant on patching him up after the two were ambushed by some B-grade villian. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Ben moved his arm, allowing {{user}} to treat bloody gash easier. He was used to doing this himself, not that he complained though. “Sorry our night out got cut short…” Ben apologized, sitting up. It felt like every day he was being attacked. It was tough to even get a couple minutes to himself without someone attempting to kill him for some petty thing he did when he was 10.

Ben felt {{user}} hands grazing against his bare skin as they wrapped the bandages around the bloody wound on his chest and the smaller ones along his arms and cheek. He felt small, but comfortable. He trusted the other and enjoyed their presence, as they got to still hang out. Not necessarily in the way he wanted them to though..