A Nasty Tackle
by David Heulfryn

 

Saturday was a bad day. I was at Rick’s when Dad turned up. He told me that Max was in the hospital. He’d been taken to the Accident and Emergency Department after an accident at his rugby match that morning.

I insisted that Dad take me to A&E, and we met James in the waiting area. He told me that Max was being seen and that my Mum was with him. He wasn’t allowed. He protested and told them he was his boyfriend, but his Mum was with him, and they wouldn’t let him in unless she said he could. But no one told her that was the case, so James remained in the waiting area, nervous and worried about Max. James was still wearing his muddy rugby kit and boots, clipping on the hard floor as he approached me.

“He looked awful. His shoulder was all deformed.” James hugged me while Dad went to the reception desk to ask for an update.

All of us weren’t allowed to see Max, they were busy so they said only one more person could be with him. I wanted to go, but Dad said he would. Find out what was happening, and then come back to let us know.

We waited half an hour. James and I sat down, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it, but we didn’t speak. Both of us were anxious to know how Max was.

James shot up the moment he saw Dad. He rushed over to him, his studs clanking on the hard floor. I followed nervously.

“James,” Dad held the boy at arm’s length, “he’s going to be alright.” I grabbed James’ hand to offer some reassurance.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“He’s got a dislocated shoulder and a broken ulna,” Dad told us.

“Where’s the ulna?” I asked. I’d heard of it but couldn’t remember where it was on the body.

Dad grabbed his forearm, “It’s here, his right arm, so he will struggle for a while. They need to put it in a cast for about 4 weeks, and they’ll need to keep a close eye on him.”

I noticed Mum over Dad’s shoulder.

“They want to try and put his shoulder back shortly. If you two want to see Max, go now, but only for a few minutes. Me and your Dad will need to be back in ten minutes.”

James almost ran into the treatment area. Mum smiled and told me, “Bay 7.” I smiled and followed James. I caught up with him and told him where Max was. The curtain was open, and we saw Max lying on the gurney. I saw a tear in James’ eye.

“I’m sorry, Max. I should have covered you better on the pitch.” James

Max groaned and tried to open his eyes. He looked in pain. The nurses had cut his rugby top so they could get to his arm and shoulder without doing any more damage. It lay in tatters in the corner.

I looked at Max, his arm was still on a plastic splint, and his shoulder looked bruised and pushed back. I noticed a bone poking up, making a point under his skin. The pain made Max breathe heavily and quickly, his bare chest rose and fell, and his face winced. Max was still muddy from the match, they had taken his rugby boots off but his socks were still nearly up to his knees. Max’s legs were covered in mud and his cotton shorts were filthy.

A nurse said they needed to give him a sedative and insisted I get our parents back. Reluctantly, James and I left and told Mum and Dad that they had to go back.

The waiting was horrible. James and I were left in the waiting area for over an hour. We didn’t know what was happening.

Half an hour later, we saw Max emerge from the treatment area, flanked by Mum and Dad. James rushed to hug him but quickly stopped, knowing it would hurt Max.

“Max? Are you alright?” James asked.

“He’s very groggy, but he’s fine. He just needs rest.” Mum told James.

Dad said he was going to get the car and left us. We sauntered to the doors to wait for Dad. Max sat down on the nearest chair. His arm was in a sling, and he had a cast on his forearm. He cradled his bad arm with his left hand. James sat next to him, but Max didn’t feel like talking. He was tired and still woozy from the sedatives and painkillers they gave him.

“He’s here.” I declared as I saw Dad’s car pull up by the doors. James helped Max to his feet.

“We’ll take you home, James. Then get Max home. We’ll get him to call you tomorrow if he feels up to it.” Mum said.

I looked at James, “I’ll call you later and let you know.”

“Thanks, Finn.” James sniffed. He wished he could come home with us to take care of Max.

Dad sat Max on the front seat while Mum, James and I squeezed into the back seat. As we dropped James off at his house, Dad opened the window next to Max so James could say goodbye. Max still looked dazed, and I doubt he understood what James was saying. Before he left, he leant through the window and kissed Max on his forehead. I heard him whisper, “I love you.”

 

Once we were home, Mum said that Max needed a bath as he was still muddy from the rugby match. The nurses had cleaned his shoulder and arm so they could treat him, but the rest of him was still dirty.

“I want Finn to do it.” Max slurred his words.

“I could ask your Dad to bathe you?” Mum said.

“No, I want Finn to do it.”

“I don’t mind, Mum. I’ll be careful, I promise. I won’t hurt him or get his cast wet.”

“Okay, Finn. I’ll go and draw the bath.” Mum went upstairs.

I looked at Max. His eyes looked glassy. “Are you okay, Max? Can you manage to walk upstairs?” Max didn’t say anything but went to the stairs and grabbed the rail with his hand. I was close behind in case he stumbled. I held on to his hips to steady him.

At the top of the stairs, he waited by the bathroom door. Mum was on her knees, swirling the water with her hand, mixing the hot and the cold.

Mum rose to her feet and turned off the taps. “It’s ready.” She announced.

“Thanks, Mum,” I said, and as she left, I guided Max inside.

“Let me take off his sling,” Mum started to untie the knot.

Max winced as she touched his shoulder. She apologised and looked at the bruising. She seemed reluctant to leave.

“He’ll be alright, Mum.” I told her, “I’ll look after him.” I closed and locked the bathroom door but knew she was standing outside, listening and ensuring her boy was okay. I looked at Max, but he just stared into space. I told him to sit on the toilet so I could take off his socks. He was very compliant. I told him to stand. It was time to pull down his dirty rugby shorts. I pulled down the jockstrap he was wearing along with the shorts. I then realised why he wanted me to bathe him rather than Mum or Dad. He had an erection. I ignored it and helped him get in the bath. He managed without jolting his shoulder, and I helped him sit in the warm water. I called out to Mum, telling her he was safely in the bath and was okay.

I took Mum’s sponge, wet it and squirted some shower gel. Max behaved like a ragdoll, allowing me to move his limbs easily. I gently rubbed his chest, his unhurt shoulder and arm. I lifted his good arm and cleaned his armpit. I raised a leg out of the water and rubbed more vigorously as the mud was dried on. As I cleaned his foot, Max smiled. I think I was tickling him.

I had almost finished cleaning my brother. There was just one part left. I looked into the dirty water. His cock was still hard. I remember what Mum had said earlier, make sure you clean him properly. I remember being told how to clean my penis correctly and the importance of pulling down my foreskin. I didn’t want Mum to think I hadn’t washed him properly. I didn’t want to let her down, but I was nervous. I’d never touched someone else’s penis before. I’d felt Max’s penis against my skin, my buttocks, as we slept in the same bed, but I’d never touched it with my fingers.

I added more shower gel to the sponge. I rubbed it around Max’s crotch and between his legs. His cock swayed as I washed him

I reached into the water after hesitating. Grabbed his stiff shaft and pulled down his foreskin. I took the sponged and rubbed his exposed knob. Max groaned, and my hands shot out of the water. I watched as his cock throbbed. His piss slit widened, and I saw strings of cum shoot out and into the water. Max groaned again as his cock kept throbbing. His cum swirled in the water. I was surprised it didn’t dissolve into the water. It stayed separate. I looked at Max. He looked happy.

I had to get Max out of the bath, so I pulled the plug and watched his cum flow down to the plug hole and down the drain.

“Come on, Max. Get up. I need to dry you.” I held Max under his armpit to help him lift himself. Max struggled to his feet, wincing in pain a couple of times when he knocked his shoulder against the wall. I held him steady as he stepped out of the bath.

I gently rubbed the towel over Max’s body and guided him to bed once dry. I helped him get in and draped his duvet over him. He fell asleep almost immediately. I stood over him and watched him breathing. I leaned down and kissed his forehead. I closed the curtains to keep out the sunlight and went downstairs.

I reassured Mum that he was okay and not in any pain. I had a quick drink and told them I was going back to our room to keep an eye on him.

Max was asleep all afternoon. Mum came in occasionally to check up on him. I had been messaging James to let him know about Max. I took a photo of Max sleeping on my smartphone and sent it to James. Max looked so peaceful.

Mum woke up Max to feed him some soup. I left her feeding him like a baby and ate my dinner, which she had left in the kitchen. I went back upstairs when I’d finished and watched Mum wipe Max’s chin, leaving him to drift off asleep again.

Mum was surprised that Max was still suffering the after-effects of the drugs. She told me they gave him a sedative and some morphine for the pain while they rotated his shoulder to ease it back into its socket. We were told he’d need to rest his shoulder for twelve weeks to allow his muscles and ligaments to heal. His broken arm would only take about four weeks to heal. I was surprised that the bone would heal quicker. Mum said Max was not to lift or carry anything until he was better. I assured her that I’d help him whenever he needed me.

Although it was the weekend, I went to bed early. Max was still asleep, so I stripped naked, brushed my teeth and got into bed.

“I love you, Max,” I told him and didn’t expect a response.

Something was missing. We didn’t talk. I wanted to talk. I wanted to ask him what had happened. Other than it was a nasty tackle, we didn’t know. I wanted Max to tell me how he was feeling. I wanted to tell him how worried I was about him, how worried James was.

“I hope you get better soon, Max. I love you.”

I fell asleep.

 

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