Episode 2

The sofa in the living room would have to do. Carlos wouldn't put that bloodied man in his bed; the leather sofa would be easier to clean. It wasn't easy to support him all the way there, and at no point did he let go of the gun in his hand.

"Lie down, I'll get everything I need to take care of your wound."

As someone who desired to have things under control, Carlos had everything he would need in his house, from anesthesia to blood bags. His preventive measures were deemed paranoid, but in that moment, it only confirmed that he was right to have it all in his house.

Carlos brought everything he needed, moved some things out of the way, and laid down a plastic sheet near the sofa, in case the injured man's blood splattered on the floor. He sterilized everything and began.

"I'm going to open your shirt, try not to move any more from now on."

The man made a slight eye movement, as if in confirmation. He had no more strength. He had lost a lot of blood and needed an immediate transfusion. The hand in which he needed to put the blood still held the gun.

"Can I put away your gun? I need to do an improvised transfusion and you can't keep holding it. If you don't trust me, then switch hands, please."

Carlos asked politely and amiably. He wasn't foolish enough to confront that armed dying man. The man looked at him with nearly closed eyes and handed the gun to Carlos. He took the gun clumsily and put it on the floor. The man tried to say something but passed out before he could; Carlos had to hurry, the blood pressure was dropping, and that wasn't good.

"You need to hold on," he said, even though the other couldn't hear him.

Sweat was already dripping down his face. In that position and without all the necessary equipment, it was even more tense to do it. He was already on the second blood bag. His own blood was O-, so he knew he was a universal donor, but the blood was partly his own, he had saved it for his own use, in case he needed it. But in that moment, he had no way to get another one and couldn't be stingy at that point, even knowing that he was probably a criminal, or who knows what.

After suturing, covering the wound, and checking his blood pressure again, Carlos could finally stop to observe that man. His abdominal muscles were well defined, a few strands of hair beginning to grow on his chest. His face was handsome, some strands of hair falling onto his forehead, and he had a scar on his left eyebrow. The scar even gave him a certain charm. Carlos started to observe the details of that beautiful and virile man on his sofa. He bit the corner of his lip without realizing it until he realized what he was doing.

"Don't let your desires take over, focus, Carlos, focus."

He spoke to himself in order to try to concentrate. He started to think about what he would do with that man there and who he could call. Someone should be looking for him, his family, or a boss, someone. He rummaged through his pocket for a phone and found one, but it had no battery. Luckily, it was the same model as his, so his charger would work.

Carlos was tired. After checking on the patient again, he plugged his phone in to charge and went to take a shower. That early hours had been exhausting, his whole routine disrupted by a gang fight: first armed people at the hospital, then at his house. He finished that well-deserved shower and checked the battery level to see how much it had charged. He turned on the phone in the hopes that someone would call him.

Carlos continued drying his hair and went to check the patient's blood pressure again. He didn't have the equipment to keep him connected, so he would have to check constantly. The transfusion had already finished, but the IV fluids were still with him. There were painkillers and anti-inflammatories in that IV, which would help a lot.

His body's blood had already been cleaned, and all the things were cleared from the living room. Carlos sat on a cushion near the stranger, and when the time for the new inspection came, he would be close by.

Carlos's exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he fell asleep right there. His arm was on the couch and his head rested on it. The man next to him woke up, trying to recognize where he was and what the situation was. When he saw Carlos sleeping beside him, he remembered and lifted his head slightly. He saw that his wound had been treated and bandaged, he wasn't dead, and it was thanks to the man in front of him.

Carlos's sleep was so deep that he didn't wake up when the man moved on the couch. The man stared at him, lying there awkwardly. He brushed a strand of hair from Carlos's forehead and mentally noted the delicate features of the man who saved his life. The robe he wore was slightly open at the top, revealing smooth and fair skin. He found him very sexy.

The man turned his head back and looked at the ceiling, imagining how beautiful that skin would look, slightly reddened from bites and kisses. He shook his head and took a deep breath. This was not the time to think dirty thoughts. Probably, the guy was straight, and his recent experience with love had put him in that situation. There were more pressing matters to deal with at the moment. He had to deal with the betrayal he had suffered and needed to contact his men.

He searched his pocket, but the cell phone wasn't there. If it was turned off, his men wouldn't be able to track his location; probably, that man took it out of his pocket. He tried to make an effort to get up, but felt pain. If he tried to turn to support himself, he would probably wake up the man; he seemed tired, and him sleeping there was too cute.

As he thought about how to get up without waking him, he heard the doorbell ringing. He closed his eyes, pretending to still be asleep. He felt the man's movements on the couch, and the noise of the visitor woke him up. He slowly opened his eyes and saw him heading towards the door.

Carlos looked at the clock, and it was already five-fifteen in the morning. "Who could it be at this hour?" he wondered. He looked at the electronic panel and saw some men in suits outside the gate. Carlos became apprehensive and pressed the intercom.

"Yes, who is it?"

A man who was closer to the intercom approached.

"We've come to pick up our boss."

Carlos wondered how they knew that the man was there, but remembered that he turned on the cell phone hoping that someone would call, which could have allowed them to track his location.

Carlos didn't know if he could trust and open the door. What if they weren't his men? What if they were the guys who shot him? And if they killed him right there? A lot of questions went through his mind, and he had a startle when he heard a strong and firm voice next to his ear.

"They are my men."

Carlos was startled and turned quickly, leaning against the wall near the intercom panel. His heart rate accelerated when he saw that man standing in front of him and so close. The man leaned his face a little closer and looked at the panel again. His face was now very close to Carlos's, who was still looking without knowing what to do.

The man stared at Carlos up close and spoke again.

"Yes, they are indeed my men. Could you open the gate, please?"

Carlos was somewhat paralyzed with those black eyes staring at him. He cleared his throat, looked the other way, and nodded. Then he turned around, and the man stepped back a little, allowing him to use the intercom.

Carlos pressed a button, and the gate opened. He returned his gaze, looking at the man in front of him. The man approached Carlos, took both hands and pulled his robe to close it properly, covering his exposed chest.

As he fixed it, he made sure that his finger brushed against the soft skin there, being covered. Carlos trembled slightly as he felt the other's finger gliding over his skin. He looked at him again, and the man in front of him returned the gaze, smirking, and spoke.

"I don't want my men to see you like this. This was a momentary indulgence just for me."

Carlos looked at him even more incredulous at what he had just heard.

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