His Something
Ben is Toby's bartender, and he's driving Toby crazy. Not just because Ben gets himself hurt all the time, but because he's there. And Toby can't keep himself from having scenes with him, and he can't keep himself from holding the boy afterwards, either, and thinking about how nice it feels. Even though Ben's his employee and they shouldn't be doing this in the first place. His Something is a quick look at the event which might change Toby's mind when it comes to Ben - whether Toby wants to admit it or not.
The crash sounded louder than you'd think it would. This was a sex club, after all, and it was a busy Friday night. People were chatting and laughing, and there was some background music - quieter out here in the bar room than in the main room, because Toby liked people to be able to talk in here - but it was still there.
Routinely, Toby's eyes followed the sound, and he already frowned at the thought of expensive liquor ending up on the floor or a sub getting shards in his hands or knees from a broken glass. Slake was his bar, and it wasn't a place where subs should get hurt. Well, not like that, anyway.
The crash had come from just down the bar, though. Toby finally located the source of the sound, and the noise around him disappeared as he froze to the spot. As through water, he stared at the figure at the end of the bar.
Ben was leaning forward, one hand holding on to the counter and his feet surrounded by the fragments of a shattered glass. It was Ben's other hand that made Toby go numb, though - or rather, the blood that was welling out between Ben's fingers.
Toby heard himself gasp, and the choking sound shook him out of his stillness and reminded him to breathe. He could suddenly hear the music again, and the voices chatting on. Shaking himself, he forced himself to move. As he hurried over to his bartender, Ben took away his hand, staring at the blood and blinking. Then he looked up at Toby. "I think I hurt my head."
Yeah, no fucking shit. Toby pushed down his swearing, though, when he saw the glazed look in Ben's eyes. The blood was beginning to stream down into Ben's eyes, and the boy reached up again as if to wipe it away. Toby quickly caught Ben's hand in one of his and reached out for a clean towel with the other.
"Careful, boy." He pressed the towel against Ben's forehead, ignoring Ben's protest and trying to still the blood. He let his eyes roam over Ben's body, and to his relief, nothing else seemed to be wrong with the boy. Okay, so, a wound and maybe a bump on the head. Nothing major. It was just blood; even small head wounds bled a lot, Toby knew that. He knew that. No need for his hands to shake like this.
Ben whimpered. "I hurt my head. Didn't I?" His eyes were bright and shocked, and he didn't seem steady, the knuckles on his hand holding on to the counter white as he clung to it.
Make that "bump on the head" a concussion, then. Toby could deal with that. Of course he could.
"Yeah, baby, you hurt your head." Toby gently wiped the blood away to see where it came from, but it quickly welled up again from a gash in Ben's scalp. Toby had to put the towel back, applying a firm pressure on the laceration. "I think we need to have somebody look at it."
Ben had begun shaking his head before Toby had finished talking. "No, I don't want to… Oh." If it was the movement causing him to get dizzy or the pain catching up with Ben, Toby didn't know, but the man staggered. Toby quickly steadied him with one arm around his waist and the other still holding on to the towel. Ben whimpered and clung to him.
"Does he need stitches?"
Toby looked up to see Mischa on the other side of the counter. "Yeah, he does." He cleared his voice, trying to make it sound steadier. "I think he might be concussed as well."
Mischa nodded curtly. "Let's go." He got out his car keys and gestured for Toby to come along.
Toby felt relief well up in him. He often teased Mischa about the Dom's strict rules when it came to playing and drinking - Mischa would refuse to do a scene if the man had had even a single beer - but right now, it was a blessing to have somebody he could trust unconditionally.
He tightened his arm around his boy. "Come on, Ben. Let's go see the nice doctors."
Ben grumbled something in protest, but Toby took a firm grip around him and steered him through the club. There were a lot of worried glances and a couple of questions, but Toby managed to maneuver them through the throng and out into the cold night.
"I'll get the car; wait here." Mischa was gone before Toby could say anything.
Ben leaned heavily on Toby. "Don't want to go with Mischa," he said in a plaintive voice. The boy was beginning to shiver, and Toby hoped it was from the freezing night air and not from shock.
He pulled Ben close, trying to warm up the frail body in his arms and cursing himself for not getting Ben a coat. He kept his voice light when he answered, though. "Sure you do. He hasn't been drinking; he'll be okay to drive." Toby pushed the towel firmer to Ben's head. The blood had started seeping through the fabric.
"No. Mischa's scary. And he wouldn't play with me." Ben was pouting. Then he looked up at Toby. "I think I hurt my head."
Toby sighed. "Yes, you did. We're getting you to the hospital so they can patch up your wound." And check out Ben's head, as well. Normally, the man was talkative and brazen and engaging. Now he sounded scared and hurt. Toby took a deep breath and rubbed his back, trying to comfort him.
"No. Hospitals hurt," Ben stated.
Yeah, Ben would know that by now; Toby had never seen anybody get injured as often as Ben managed to. He hugged the boy tightly with one arm and tried to find a dry place on the towel to keep the blood from running into Ben's eyes.
It seemed like it was getting colder by the minute, and Ben had begun struggling to get back into the club when Mischa finally came around with the Jeep. It took a bit of cajoling to get Ben into the car, but finally, Toby managed to get the boy belted in. He climbed into the car next to Ben and wiped the seeping blood off Ben's face before applying firm pressure once again.
"Mischa's mean," Ben stated.
Toby blinked. Apparently, hitting his head made Ben very forward. "No, he's not; he's taking us to the hospital."
"Yes, he is. He wouldn't play with me."
This time, Toby decided to humor Ben. "Why do you think he wouldn't play with you?"
"He said so. Mean." Ben's head lolled toward Toby's shoulder, and Toby gently pulled him closer.
"I didn't want to play with you because you're a spoiled brat who can't stand still for more than a minute at a time." Mischa's words interrupted Toby's attempt at calming Ben.
"See?" Ben tried to twist around to look imploringly at Toby, and Toby had to fight to keep the cloth in place. "He's mean."
Toby sighed. "Yeah. I see your point."
"Hey!" Mischa grouched something more from the driver's seat, but it didn't sound like he meant Toby to hear it. Maybe even Mischa had some tact. Even though Toby doubted it; the man was the most dominant Dom Toby had ever met.
Mercifully, they finally pulled up at the hospital. If it was because it was still early in the night or because Ben was now decidedly unsteady on his feet, Toby didn't know. But the nurse took one look at the blood seeping through the towel and Ben's glazed eyes and showed them to a place where Ben could lie down. Ben moaned pitifully when he stretched out on the hospital bed.
"Give me his information; I'll get the paperwork started." Mischa reached out his hand.
Toby was eternally grateful for that; it meant that he didn't have to let go of Ben. He reached under Ben and eased his wallet out of his back pocket. Mischa took it and disappeared from the room.
"The doctor will be here in a minute; I'll start with washing that wound. How did you manage to get it?" The nurse was rustling around to pick up… Well, nurse stuff; Toby was busy holding on to Ben's hand and trying to apply pressure to his head wound at the same time. Apparently, Ben had just remembered how scared he was of hospitals again, and he was clinging to Toby's hand.
"I hurt my head." Ben's voice sounded small and scared, and Toby had to pull himself together not to pick the boy up in his arms. Ben needed medical care now; what Toby wanted wasn't important.
"Do you remember how you hurt your head?" The nurse came back and sat down, placing her supplies on a table.
Ben was blinking up at her with wide eyes. "I'm… uh…" He looked questioningly at Toby.
"He hit his head on the counter of the bar. I didn't see how - maybe he was picking something up or something."
"I broke a glass." Ben was looking up at Toby with those unfocused, shocky eyes, and Toby had to remind himself that they were in a public place. He tightened his grip around Ben's hand.
"It's okay, baby. It was just a glass," Toby said soothingly.
Before he could say anything else, a stressed-looking doctor came into the room. That was the beginning of a whirlwind of questions, and cleaning of the wound, and stitching.
Ben whimpered when the needle with the local anesthetic went into his flesh, and Toby had to fight back a shudder. Flogging a sub might turn him on, but needles were way out of his comfort zone. Well, a sub hurting unwillingly was always out of his comfort zone, but needles in particular weren't his forte.
But getting sutures was also way out of Ben's comfort zone, and so Toby kept his eyes on Ben's face, trying not to flinch from Ben's iron grip on his hand as he desperately tried to comfort his boy. It did seem to calm Ben a little, and he kept holding on while the doctor mended the wound.
The doctor had finished up and disposed of the needle before he looked up. It seemed like he saw Toby for the first time. "And who are you, if I may ask?"
Ben spoke at the same time that Toby said: "I'm his boss."
The doctor raised an eyebrow and looked at their entwined fingers.
"He's my… something," Ben mumbled.
The doctor was shaking his head. "Sorry, none of my business. I just wanted to know if there's anybody to look after him for the next day or so, but if you're only his boss..."
"I'll look after him," Toby said, quickly and decisively. He had promised himself that he would make the boy see sense and find a real boyfriend; Toby knew that Ben needed something else than what Toby could give him. Someone else, he forced himself to admit. But right now, he couldn't bear the thought of someone else taking care of his hurt boy.
The doctor looked about to say something more; then it seemed that he decided to be satisfied with Toby's answer. He quickly held up a couple of fingers in front of Ben, absentmindedly picking up a pen with the other hand. "Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up here?"
"No."
The doctor had been about to write something onto a piece of paper, looking like he was finishing up, when Ben answered. Now he looked up, suddenly seeming more alert than before. "You can't see my fingers?"
"Not so far away," Ben mumbled.
"Do you wear glasses?"
Toby answered "no" at the same time that Ben answered "yes".
Toby stared down at Ben. "You need to wear glasses? But I've never seen you…"
"They look stupid," Ben mumbled.
Toby groaned out loud, wanting to slap himself. "So this happened because you can't fucking see? And your black eye as well, and your broken finger?"
Ben mumbled something inaudible.
The doctor shut the file in front of him. "Well, it seems we've found the root of the problem. As his boss, you might want to have him do something about that." Efficiently, he went through some aftercare instructions and asked them to wait for a CT scan and some paperwork to be completed. Then he left the room, looking as if he were in a hurry to be somewhere else.
Toby was glaring at Ben, who wouldn't meet his eyes. "You've needed glasses all this time? Ben, you've been hurt several times; it could have been serious!" Like it was now, damn it.
"Sorry," Ben mumbled. "Just didn't want to look stupid. I mean, not around you." He glanced up at Toby before looking away again.
Toby stared down at Ben again. Then he leaned down and hugged Ben, gently holding under the pillow to protect Ben's sore head. "Stupid boy," he whispered, holding on to Ben. "Stupid, stupid boy. You made me scared." He gently kissed Ben's neck, and he could feel Ben's body relaxing in his arms.
"You aren't mad at me?" Ben whispered.
"Oh, I'm mad all right. I'm going to take you home, and take care of you, and pamper you. And when your poor head is recovered, I'm going to give you the spanking of all spankings. You hear me?" Toby fiercely held on to the body in his arms, and his voice sounded softer than he had meant it to sound.
Ben relaxed, his breathing becoming slower. "Yes, sir. After all, you're my… You know." His voice faded.
"Yeah," Toby murmured. "I'm your something."
The crash sounded louder than you'd think it would. This was a sex club, after all, and it was a busy Friday night. People were chatting and laughing, and there was some background music - quieter out here in the bar room than in the main room, because Toby liked people to be able to talk in here - but it was still there.
Routinely, Toby's eyes followed the sound, and he already frowned at the thought of expensive liquor ending up on the floor or a sub getting shards in his hands or knees from a broken glass. Slake was his bar, and it wasn't a place where subs should get hurt. Well, not like that, anyway.
The crash had come from just down the bar, though. Toby finally located the source of the sound, and the noise around him disappeared as he froze to the spot. As through water, he stared at the figure at the end of the bar.
Ben was leaning forward, one hand holding on to the counter and his feet surrounded by the fragments of a shattered glass. It was Ben's other hand that made Toby go numb, though - or rather, the blood that was welling out between Ben's fingers.
Toby heard himself gasp, and the choking sound shook him out of his stillness and reminded him to breathe. He could suddenly hear the music again, and the voices chatting on. Shaking himself, he forced himself to move. As he hurried over to his bartender, Ben took away his hand, staring at the blood and blinking. Then he looked up at Toby. "I think I hurt my head."
Yeah, no fucking shit. Toby pushed down his swearing, though, when he saw the glazed look in Ben's eyes. The blood was beginning to stream down into Ben's eyes, and the boy reached up again as if to wipe it away. Toby quickly caught Ben's hand in one of his and reached out for a clean towel with the other.
"Careful, boy." He pressed the towel against Ben's forehead, ignoring Ben's protest and trying to still the blood. He let his eyes roam over Ben's body, and to his relief, nothing else seemed to be wrong with the boy. Okay, so, a wound and maybe a bump on the head. Nothing major. It was just blood; even small head wounds bled a lot, Toby knew that. He knew that. No need for his hands to shake like this.
Ben whimpered. "I hurt my head. Didn't I?" His eyes were bright and shocked, and he didn't seem steady, the knuckles on his hand holding on to the counter white as he clung to it.
Make that "bump on the head" a concussion, then. Toby could deal with that. Of course he could.
"Yeah, baby, you hurt your head." Toby gently wiped the blood away to see where it came from, but it quickly welled up again from a gash in Ben's scalp. Toby had to put the towel back, applying a firm pressure on the laceration. "I think we need to have somebody look at it."
Ben had begun shaking his head before Toby had finished talking. "No, I don't want to… Oh." If it was the movement causing him to get dizzy or the pain catching up with Ben, Toby didn't know, but the man staggered. Toby quickly steadied him with one arm around his waist and the other still holding on to the towel. Ben whimpered and clung to him.
"Does he need stitches?"
Toby looked up to see Mischa on the other side of the counter. "Yeah, he does." He cleared his voice, trying to make it sound steadier. "I think he might be concussed as well."
Mischa nodded curtly. "Let's go." He got out his car keys and gestured for Toby to come along.
Toby felt relief well up in him. He often teased Mischa about the Dom's strict rules when it came to playing and drinking - Mischa would refuse to do a scene if the man had had even a single beer - but right now, it was a blessing to have somebody he could trust unconditionally.
He tightened his arm around his boy. "Come on, Ben. Let's go see the nice doctors."
Ben grumbled something in protest, but Toby took a firm grip around him and steered him through the club. There were a lot of worried glances and a couple of questions, but Toby managed to maneuver them through the throng and out into the cold night.
"I'll get the car; wait here." Mischa was gone before Toby could say anything.
Ben leaned heavily on Toby. "Don't want to go with Mischa," he said in a plaintive voice. The boy was beginning to shiver, and Toby hoped it was from the freezing night air and not from shock.
He pulled Ben close, trying to warm up the frail body in his arms and cursing himself for not getting Ben a coat. He kept his voice light when he answered, though. "Sure you do. He hasn't been drinking; he'll be okay to drive." Toby pushed the towel firmer to Ben's head. The blood had started seeping through the fabric.
"No. Mischa's scary. And he wouldn't play with me." Ben was pouting. Then he looked up at Toby. "I think I hurt my head."
Toby sighed. "Yes, you did. We're getting you to the hospital so they can patch up your wound." And check out Ben's head, as well. Normally, the man was talkative and brazen and engaging. Now he sounded scared and hurt. Toby took a deep breath and rubbed his back, trying to comfort him.
"No. Hospitals hurt," Ben stated.
Yeah, Ben would know that by now; Toby had never seen anybody get injured as often as Ben managed to. He hugged the boy tightly with one arm and tried to find a dry place on the towel to keep the blood from running into Ben's eyes.
It seemed like it was getting colder by the minute, and Ben had begun struggling to get back into the club when Mischa finally came around with the Jeep. It took a bit of cajoling to get Ben into the car, but finally, Toby managed to get the boy belted in. He climbed into the car next to Ben and wiped the seeping blood off Ben's face before applying firm pressure once again.
"Mischa's mean," Ben stated.
Toby blinked. Apparently, hitting his head made Ben very forward. "No, he's not; he's taking us to the hospital."
"Yes, he is. He wouldn't play with me."
This time, Toby decided to humor Ben. "Why do you think he wouldn't play with you?"
"He said so. Mean." Ben's head lolled toward Toby's shoulder, and Toby gently pulled him closer.
"I didn't want to play with you because you're a spoiled brat who can't stand still for more than a minute at a time." Mischa's words interrupted Toby's attempt at calming Ben.
"See?" Ben tried to twist around to look imploringly at Toby, and Toby had to fight to keep the cloth in place. "He's mean."
Toby sighed. "Yeah. I see your point."
"Hey!" Mischa grouched something more from the driver's seat, but it didn't sound like he meant Toby to hear it. Maybe even Mischa had some tact. Even though Toby doubted it; the man was the most dominant Dom Toby had ever met.
Mercifully, they finally pulled up at the hospital. If it was because it was still early in the night or because Ben was now decidedly unsteady on his feet, Toby didn't know. But the nurse took one look at the blood seeping through the towel and Ben's glazed eyes and showed them to a place where Ben could lie down. Ben moaned pitifully when he stretched out on the hospital bed.
"Give me his information; I'll get the paperwork started." Mischa reached out his hand.
Toby was eternally grateful for that; it meant that he didn't have to let go of Ben. He reached under Ben and eased his wallet out of his back pocket. Mischa took it and disappeared from the room.
"The doctor will be here in a minute; I'll start with washing that wound. How did you manage to get it?" The nurse was rustling around to pick up… Well, nurse stuff; Toby was busy holding on to Ben's hand and trying to apply pressure to his head wound at the same time. Apparently, Ben had just remembered how scared he was of hospitals again, and he was clinging to Toby's hand.
"I hurt my head." Ben's voice sounded small and scared, and Toby had to pull himself together not to pick the boy up in his arms. Ben needed medical care now; what Toby wanted wasn't important.
"Do you remember how you hurt your head?" The nurse came back and sat down, placing her supplies on a table.
Ben was blinking up at her with wide eyes. "I'm… uh…" He looked questioningly at Toby.
"He hit his head on the counter of the bar. I didn't see how - maybe he was picking something up or something."
"I broke a glass." Ben was looking up at Toby with those unfocused, shocky eyes, and Toby had to remind himself that they were in a public place. He tightened his grip around Ben's hand.
"It's okay, baby. It was just a glass," Toby said soothingly.
Before he could say anything else, a stressed-looking doctor came into the room. That was the beginning of a whirlwind of questions, and cleaning of the wound, and stitching.
Ben whimpered when the needle with the local anesthetic went into his flesh, and Toby had to fight back a shudder. Flogging a sub might turn him on, but needles were way out of his comfort zone. Well, a sub hurting unwillingly was always out of his comfort zone, but needles in particular weren't his forte.
But getting sutures was also way out of Ben's comfort zone, and so Toby kept his eyes on Ben's face, trying not to flinch from Ben's iron grip on his hand as he desperately tried to comfort his boy. It did seem to calm Ben a little, and he kept holding on while the doctor mended the wound.
The doctor had finished up and disposed of the needle before he looked up. It seemed like he saw Toby for the first time. "And who are you, if I may ask?"
Ben spoke at the same time that Toby said: "I'm his boss."
The doctor raised an eyebrow and looked at their entwined fingers.
"He's my… something," Ben mumbled.
The doctor was shaking his head. "Sorry, none of my business. I just wanted to know if there's anybody to look after him for the next day or so, but if you're only his boss..."
"I'll look after him," Toby said, quickly and decisively. He had promised himself that he would make the boy see sense and find a real boyfriend; Toby knew that Ben needed something else than what Toby could give him. Someone else, he forced himself to admit. But right now, he couldn't bear the thought of someone else taking care of his hurt boy.
The doctor looked about to say something more; then it seemed that he decided to be satisfied with Toby's answer. He quickly held up a couple of fingers in front of Ben, absentmindedly picking up a pen with the other hand. "Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up here?"
"No."
The doctor had been about to write something onto a piece of paper, looking like he was finishing up, when Ben answered. Now he looked up, suddenly seeming more alert than before. "You can't see my fingers?"
"Not so far away," Ben mumbled.
"Do you wear glasses?"
Toby answered "no" at the same time that Ben answered "yes".
Toby stared down at Ben. "You need to wear glasses? But I've never seen you…"
"They look stupid," Ben mumbled.
Toby groaned out loud, wanting to slap himself. "So this happened because you can't fucking see? And your black eye as well, and your broken finger?"
Ben mumbled something inaudible.
The doctor shut the file in front of him. "Well, it seems we've found the root of the problem. As his boss, you might want to have him do something about that." Efficiently, he went through some aftercare instructions and asked them to wait for a CT scan and some paperwork to be completed. Then he left the room, looking as if he were in a hurry to be somewhere else.
Toby was glaring at Ben, who wouldn't meet his eyes. "You've needed glasses all this time? Ben, you've been hurt several times; it could have been serious!" Like it was now, damn it.
"Sorry," Ben mumbled. "Just didn't want to look stupid. I mean, not around you." He glanced up at Toby before looking away again.
Toby stared down at Ben again. Then he leaned down and hugged Ben, gently holding under the pillow to protect Ben's sore head. "Stupid boy," he whispered, holding on to Ben. "Stupid, stupid boy. You made me scared." He gently kissed Ben's neck, and he could feel Ben's body relaxing in his arms.
"You aren't mad at me?" Ben whispered.
"Oh, I'm mad all right. I'm going to take you home, and take care of you, and pamper you. And when your poor head is recovered, I'm going to give you the spanking of all spankings. You hear me?" Toby fiercely held on to the body in his arms, and his voice sounded softer than he had meant it to sound.
Ben relaxed, his breathing becoming slower. "Yes, sir. After all, you're my… You know." His voice faded.
"Yeah," Toby murmured. "I'm your something."