The Supers by Sean Michael

Author:Sean Michael [Michael, Sean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-63533-890-4
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2017-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

BLAINE’S neck burned like fire.

Mom had smeared it with some stuff she’d made up, but it hadn’t helped a bit. It just made the burn deeper, now running all the way to his elbow.

Christ.

He stood in front of the mirror over the dresser, poking at the swollen skin, pushing on it.

There was something there—a hard mass right under the skin.

Flynn came in from the bathroom and stopped short. “Jesus, Blaine. That thing’s grown, like, three times its size.” Flynn started putting on clothes. “In, like, a day. Get dressed—I’m going to take you to the hospital.” Flynn sounded worried, honestly worried.

“I’m fine, seriously. I just….” He pressed again, frowning. “Is there something in there?”

Flynn stood behind him and studied the wound. Then he touched it, pressed against the hard spot. “Jesus. I think it’s loaded with pus. I’m serious; we need to get to the hospital and get this dealt with.”

He grabbed Blaine’s clothes and began handing them over.

Blaine pulled his pants on and then froze as something moved, pulled inside him, inside the bump. “Wait.”

“What?” Flynn stared at him, wide-eyed.

“I just….” Blaine pressed again, and his swollen skin split, a foul-smelling goo pouring down his arm. There was something in there. Something… moving. “Flynn! Get it out!”

“Oh fuck.” Flynn grabbed his good arm and dragged him into the bathroom. Flynn turned on the hot water in the sink, soaked a washcloth, and dragged it over Blaine’s arm, cleaning away the gunk before rinsing it and then pressing it against the split in Blaine’s skin to draw out more pus. “Grab me the tweezers, man. Fuck.”

“Get it out!” Blaine could feel it. In him.

In me. Oh God. Please.

Flynn reached past him and grabbed the tweezers out of the medicine cabinet. “Fuck. Gross. Shit. Just stay still.” He snagged a clean washcloth and ran it under the hot water, then did the same with the tweezers.

When Flynn pressed the cloth against his shoulder, the ache made Blaine cry out. Then Flynn gave a cry of triumph, and Blaine swore he could feel whatever it was being pulled out, slithering and twitching inside him until it was gone.

Flynn threw the thing on the counter, grabbed a water glass, and slammed it onto the—oh my God, it was a worm. Jesus Christ, Blaine was going to throw up.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Please. Please, is that it?” Blaine tore at his shoulder, the pus turning bloody.

“Stop. Just stop.” Flynn pushed his hands away. “Wash them. And I mean a lot.”

Flynn soaked the cloth again and wiped away the blood and more pus. Then he grabbed the peroxide and poured it over the area once more and blotted the excess liquid with a towel.

“You have to make sure they’re all out!” What if there were more? Dozens? Eggs? What if they were squirming inside him and then trying to eat their way out?

Flynn took him by both arms and shook him until his hair flew. “Stop it!” He went silent until Blaine met his eyes in the medicine-cabinet mirror.

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