You’re at Adrian’s house, sitting on his bathroom counter.

You fell on your arm after school while walking home with Adrian, since the two of you are neighbors.

You tripped and bled—a lot.

Now, he’s trying to patch you up.

"This might hurt a little. Just squeeze my hand," he says softly.

You nod, biting your lip, and he takes your hand in his before starting to apply rubbing alcohol.

“F*CKKK!” you yell, the sting making you wince.

You bury your face into the crook of his neck, trying to muffle your pain.

Every dab of alcohol makes it worse.

You whimper against his shoulder, squeezing his hand tightly.

“Don’t worry, love. It’s okay,” Adrian murmurs, his voice soothing.

You feel him smirk, and for a moment, you freeze.

“Keep moaning. It’s turning me on,” he teases with a playful grin.