Henry sits stiffly as Riley walks to him.
His body is tense, his posture rigid as though even the smallest movement might betray what is going on inside him.
He doesn't want to admit it, not even silently to himself, but he knows that Riley sparks something in him.
Something he has fought to bury for years yet now rises uninvited, breaking through his carefully constructed walls.
And to him, it is unthinkable.
They barely know each other.
They have not even spent much time together, not enough for this kind of reaction to make sense.
But it is happening all the same, an undeniable stirring in him.
Maybe it isn't just about Riley as a person, but about the presence of a man finally standing close, a man who reaches into a place Henry has denied for so long.
His body and soul seem to know exactly what they desire, no matter how hard he has shut it down, no matter how many years he has forced himself to look the other way.
Against his will, it is reacting now, sparking to life as though it had only been waiting for the smallest chance to break free.
He hasn't allowed himself to get close to any man in years. Not a step, not a touch. He made that decision long ago, and he has lived by it with unwavering determination.
He swore to himself that he would never go back, that he would never open that door again.
And he is not about to let someone undo that choice without his consent, without his control. The thought alone fills him with a fierce frustration at himself as much as at Riley.
Because after all those years of suppressing this side of himself until he thought it was dead, it is still alive again.
More alive now than ever, flaring up stronger than it used to, sparking violently at the simple nearness of a man who isn't even moving with that kind of intention.
Suddenly, a thought strikes him... If he is reacting just because of the nearness, then what happens if Riley actually touches him?
Is it going to drive him past the edge? Will it make him forget everything he has worked for and drag him back into the place he swore he would never step into again?
And now that he has a son, what would his son think of him? Wouldn't he be disappointed to have a father who likes men? Could he even handle that?
"You know what? Forget it, I'll see a doctor tomorrow and have him stitch it. As for..." Henry suddenly says, pushing himself up from the chair, his voice abrupt.
He means to cut the moment short, to put distance between himself and Riley before anything unwanted can happen.
But before Henry can rise completely, Riley presses down on his shoulders, pushing him firmly back into the chair.
The simple act makes the words scatter from Henry's mind, vanishing before they leave his mouth.
His thoughts blank out. He didn't expect it.
No one has ever dared to do something like that to him before. No one has ever pushed him down, held him there, not physically and not with that steady kind of authority.
Let alone looking him directly in the eye. That alone has always been unthinkable to many people.
Doing what Riley just did feels like death to him, like the kind of act that shatters every defense he has built.
"Let me be a doctor for tonight... Why are you being so ignorant about this? It's an open wound that could attract infection, so let's just cover it up," Riley says, his voice calm but insistent, as he reaches for the strap. "Why are you looking at me like that? Are you going to punch me for trying to help you?" Riley adds, noticing the way Henry is staring at him as if he still can't believe what just happened
"Anyway, I can't help myself whenever I see something or someone that needs a doctor's attention. It was my dream to go to college and become a doctor... maybe it's just in my blood, so let me do my job."
Even as he speaks, he has already taken Henry's hand, beginning to wrap the soft strap around the injured skin.
His movements are careful, practiced in their precision, though Henry can feel the press of his fingers and the closeness of his touch more than he should.
Henry tears his eyes away from Riley's face, dragging them down to where the hand is being wrapped, and something else draws his attention.
He notices Riley's hand slightly shaking, the tremor is small enough that anyone else might miss it. But Henry sees it. It's barely visible, yet it is there.
He wonders if Riley is nervous, if under that confident front he is pretending to act fine.
The thought stirs something in Henry that makes him lift his eyes again almost against his will. He looks back at Riley's face as though needing to confirm what the hand is telling him.
But Riley's face doesn't give away anything. His expression is calm, his eyes unreadable.
"So, doctor... why is your hand shaking?" The words leave Henry's mouth without his permission, slipping out before he can stop them.
Henry watches as Riley's movements hitch for the briefest second before continuing again.
"Maybe because you are being so rigid and glaring at me even when I'm offering my help. Is it really hard for a simple word like thank you to leave your mouth instead of glaring?" Riley says, and for a moment, it seems like his words tumble over each other too quickly, as if his own balance is shaken.
Henry doesn't look away, after that answer, his eyes stay locked on Riley's face as if studying it, refusing to let the mask go unquestioned.
When Riley notices, he adds, "Okay, I'm just trying to be careful so I don't cause more damage or pain."
As the words leave him, he is also done wrapping the hand. The strap sits neatly in place, his work finished.
He looks ready to straighten up, to step back and end the moment, but then his eyes lock with Henry's unexpectedly. That intense gaze from Henry stops him cold, holding him there as if escape is no longer possible.
He doesn't even seem to breathe.
His composure seem to slip instantly. Without thinking, he leans in, like he is being pulled toward Henry's lips by a force too strong to fight, a need he cannot ignore.