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Guilt eats away at Carter. He hates the look on sir’s face. The concern in his voice. He shouldn’t be so upset. Carter is nothing to be upset about. “Don’t worry about me, sir. I’m nothing. I’m not important.”
Sir's expression twists at the same time Carter's stomach cramps. Carter hurries to sit up, feeling the urge to vomit coming on fast. With the IV in his arm and the bathroom so far away, he has no idea how he’ll get there, but he has to at least try because throwing up in the bed will definitely make sir mad.
He doesn’t want to bother sir by asking for help, though, so Carter slides to the edge of the bed and starts to pull at the tape on his hand to free himself from the IV.
“What are you doing?” sir asks, making Carter jump and then immediately cower.
“H-have’ta - gon’be sick.”
“Fuck. Okay.” Sir hurries over to his side, eyes scanning. He carefully pushes the blankets away to expose Carter’s IV line, his hands slow and gentle as he makes sure it’s all freed. Then he grabs the IV bag off the hook it’s hanging from and holds it up in the air by his head. “Just walk slowly, and be careful. You don’t want to rip that out. It’ll hurt like hell.”
It takes Carter three attempts to get on his feet, his muscles fighting against him. He shuffles towards the bathroom, now nearly positive that he’s going to spill his guts because the room is spinning and his head feels like a bowling ball on his neck. Sir starts to help him walk halfway there. Carter sags against him in relief, letting sir take over.
Sir deposits him on the floor in the same spot he was sitting earlier, lifting the toilet lid for him. Then sir kneels in front of Carter. It seems wrong. Strange. He wants to tell sir to please get up, but that’s not his place, so he just ducks his head and waits for the next round of vomit to come to him. It feels like it’s right there, burning like acid, but nothing comes.
Hesitantly, sir raises his hand and runs his fingers through Carter’s sweaty hair. It feels good. Really fucking good. Carter finds himself laying his cheek on the toilet seat, his eyes falling closed.
“You want me to sanitize that first or something?” sir asks in a soft, amused voice.
“No thanks, sir.”
“You sure?”
Carter blinks his eyes open, frowning. “I've dealt with much worse, sir. I’m really not bothered.”
He hadn’t meant to upset sir with the comment. In fact, he had wanted to comfort sir. It upsets him, though. His face crumples, his eyebrows pulling in. He quickly looks away from Carter. It hides his face, but Carter still sees the way that sir swallows hard, his throat bobbing.
“Sorry, sir,” Carter whispers. “I’m really sorry, sir...”
“What?” Sir whips his head back, looking at Carter incredulously. “Why areyousorry?”
Carter forces himself to raise his head so he can look at sir better. His eyes water again. He’s given up on figuring out why that keeps happening. “It - that - it sounded sassy ‘nd I didn’t mean it to. Jus’ didn’t want you to worry. ‘M sorry, sir.”
Sir roughly pushes his hand through his hair, yanking at the ends of it. He adjusts so he can rest his elbow on his knee, keeping his fingers tangled in his dark blonde locks as he looks down at something on the floor between him and Carter. His voice is strangled as he asks, “Did I break you?”
“Sir?”
Sir looks Carter in the eyes, pain etched in his own. “What I did to you tonight… did I break you?”
“I – I don’t-” Carter looks down at the ground, confused. Panic begins to thump inside his chest.
“Was I bad, sir? I – I tried to be good. After my – my punishment, I’ve been trying to be good...”
“God, no. No, no, no, sweetheart. You were so good for me tonight. So good for me.”
“Iwasn’t, though. I – I hugged C – Casey,” Carter whispers, tears falling down his face. He doesn’t bother to wipe them away. “I – you punished me because I wasbad!”
“Car-” Sir cuts himself off, putting his face in his hands. His fingers are trembling. “Fuck.”
He’s upset. Clearly. Carter made him upset.
It’s not right.
Carter has to fix it.
It’s his job to make sir happy.
Carter inches closer to sir and lifts a hand. Then he remembers he can’t touch sir, dropping it at the last second before he can touch the man’s skin. Sir surprises him, though, grabbing Carter’s hand and putting it against his cheek. There’s already a bit of stubble growing in now that they’re creeping toward morning. Carter likes the way it feels against his fingers.
