"What happened to your shoulder?" Alex's voice sliced through the air, filled with concern but laced with something deeper.
Dean's heart raced, and he quickly grabbed his shirt to cover himself, the motion almost instinctual. "What are you doing in my room?" he asked, his tone defensive as he tried to hide the flush creeping up his cheeks.
"I came here to talk," Alex replied, stepping closer, his gaze fixed intently on Dean. "I think we should talk."
The weight of those words hung in the air, thick with unspoken tension. Alex moved toward him, his fingers reaching out to gently pull Dean's hand away from his shoulder. The exposure of the bruise made Dean's pulse quicken, and he felt a rush of heat flood his face.
Dean panicked, instinctively pulling back. "What are you doing?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady but failing miserably.
"Did I do this?" Alex's voice was low, regret hanging on every word. He searched Dean's face, looking for answers that Dean wasn't sure he had.
"Yes. ," Dean replied, feeling the weight of the truth pressing down on him. "You were angry, and you grabbed me too hard." He tried to keep his voice steady, but the admission felt like a betrayal, the anger still simmering beneath the surface.
Alex's expression darkened, a flicker of sadness crossing his features. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his eyes dropping to the floor as if ashamed. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
There was a moment of silence as the two of them stood there, the air thick with unresolved emotions. Finally, Alex reached for the tube of cream which was laying on the bed. "Let me help you," he said, his tone gentle yet firm.
Dean felt flustered, a heat rising in his chest. "No, I can do it myself," he insisted, shaking his head. But Alex wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Please," Alex urged, his voice almost pleading. "I want to help."
With a reluctant sigh, Dean relented, sitting back down on the bed as Alex squeezed some cream onto his fingers. As he reached out to apply the cream to Dean's shoulder, Dean felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him at the touch. It was a simple action, yet it felt laden with so much more.
Alex's fingers glided over Dean's skin, gentle and deliberate, and Dean found himself caught in a whirlwind of sensations. He couldn't help but admire the way Alex's messy hair fell into his eyes, giving him an almost boyish charm. There was something undeniably handsome about him, and Dean's heart raced for reasons he couldn't quite place.
"I'm really sorry," Alex murmured, his voice low, but the warmth of his breath sent shivers down Dean's spine. As Alex finished applying the cream to one shoulder, he moved to the other, his fingers brushing softly against the skin, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.
Their eyes met, and in that instant, the world around them faded into oblivion. The weight of unspoken words hung between them, creating a fragile barrier that neither dared to cross.
But as if sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Alex's demeanor changed, the tension spiking in the room. In a swift movement, he pushed Dean back onto the bed, startling him completely. Dean's eyes widened in shock as he hit the mattress, the softness of the bed enveloping him like a comforting embrace.
"What—" Dean began, but the words faltered on his lips as he looked up at Alex, who was now hovering over him, an intensity radiating from his very being.
For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the silence stretching like an elastic band about to snap. Dean's heart raced, pounding in his chest as he processed the situation. He had never seen Alex like this—his usually composed demeanor replaced by an urgency that sent Dean's mind spiraling into confusion.