The Tidy Boys (part 1 of 2)

Writers: AJ Kraier, Jane
Date Posted: 6th March 2007

Characters: D'val, Jh'slaen
Description: D'val plays "healer" with Jh'slaen after Threadfall, and they discuss what they are attracted to in a man.
Location: River Bluff Weyr
Date: month 2, day 18 of Turn 4

Jh'slaen waded out of the Weyrlake and scooped up his boots and the stowed coil of riding straps, wincing as the action pulled at strained muscles in his shoulder and upper back.

A firestone sack that just hadn't flown well, his wild grab to catch it and only fighting straps to keep him from losing his balance completely. At the time, in the heat of the fight against Threadfall, he had hardly noticed the soreness, but now, with Saradath scrubbed and about to have a snooze on the banks of the lake, the twinges of pain were making themselves felt.

"You know, someone once said that having a firelizard makes cleaning a dragon easier," said D'val, as he waded out of the lake near to where Jh'slaen was. "Well, they lied. Wish just wants to play, making the task twice as hard for---" He paused midsentence, regarded Jh'slaen for a long moment, and then said, "Are you okay?"

"Hide-whole, both of us," Jh'slaen assured the other greenrider. "I caught a sack poorly, that's all. A few muscles are protesting."

"Do you want me to take a look at them?" D'val asked. "I'm a journeyman healer," he quickly added, unable to recall if Jh'slaen knew that or not.

"Ahh." The younger greenrider moved his arm again, testing the feel of the muscles. "No, getting clean has priority. But thanks."

"All right; but if you change your mind, feel free to bug me," said D'val, stooping down to gather up Ayleth's riding straps.

"If they're still bad after I wash I'll ask Saradath to bespeak Ayleth, because you _really_ don't want to be near me until I smell a little better."

"Nor I near you, for that matter." D'val laughed. "I'll see you later, Jh'slaen."

~*~

Once he had discarded his clean clothes and bathed Jh'slaen spent a few moments working his shoulder and twisting his upper body from side to side. Perhaps D'val was right and somebody should look at it. It wasn't impossible to work through - his continuing during Threadfall had proved that - but it was certainly hurting every time he moved.

**Saradath?**

}:I have spoken to Ayleth.:{ the green replied before he formed the request, her tone warm and lazy.

**Thank you.**

~*~

D'val was still soaking in a bathing pool, its warmth lulling his tired body into a very peaceful and relaxed state, when the gentle touch of Ayleth's mindvoice nudged him awake.

**Tell Saradath that I'll be there in a short while,** he said, stretching his body before reaching for his towel.

Jh'slaen nodded when his green repeated the comment and set about tidying, telling himself that it was better to keep the muscles moving than let them seize up.

Less than a quarter-candlemark later, Ayleth landed on Saradath's ledge and D'val slid from her neck with a small sack in his hand.

"Come through," Jh'slaen said to the other greenrider, having crossed to the opening between the rider quarters and the dragon weyr.

"I take it that your muscles are still bothering you?" said D'val, as he entered Jh'slaen's weyr.

"Mmm. A little bit. I think I'll be able to manage drills tomorrow
-" if the muscles didn't all lock up overnight, "- but they're not improving right now." He smiled at the other man. "Thanks for coming, D'val. It's not your job, I know. I _can_ go to the infirmary."

"Yeah, you could... but do you want to?" D'val asked, and grinned wryly.

"Not really. They'll report it to the Wingleader as a Threadfall injury." He rolled his eyes. "This is _not_ going to be the first 'Threadfall injury' on my record."

"I can't says I blame you. There are many ways to get injured in a Threadfall, but catching a 'stone-sack the wrong way when you are this long out of weyrlinghood is just..." D'val shook his head. "Just tough to live down -- though not as bad as falling off your dragon and being seen dangling by your straps."

"Well, that would be wor - Not you?"

Sheepishly, D'val nodded. "I was still a weyrling though." He rolled his eyes. "I was the source of perverse amusement for my class for a couple of sevendays. It was as embarrassing as all get -- and I have no idea why I am telling you this."

"Because you are a good friend and knew this would make me feel better for months? Turns? A decade or two?"

"Hey! Keep it up and I'm not going to give you a hand with your problem."

"What can you do, anyway? It's just muscles."

Raising the sack in his hand for emphasis, D'val said, "That's what this is for. Take off your shirt, sit down someplace comfortable, and I'll show you what I can do for your muscles."

Jh'slaen glanced around. "The bed?" The best armchair was in the back of the dragon weyr, where he liked to sit close to Saradath. The other two armchairs, while good enough in appearance weren't that comfortable. F'naren, when he visited, usually sat on the other end of the bed.

"The bed will work nicely," said D'val, starting toward it.

Jh'slaen clambered onto the perfectly smooth coverlet. Having things tidy didn't mean he was afraid to use them. "What do I have to do?"

"Just take off your shirt, and sit on the edge of the bed," said D'val, as he laid out his supplies on the bed behind Jh'slaen.

Jh'slaen did so, wincing and struggling to get his arm out of the sleeve of the shirt, despite it being loose-fitting.

"Need some help with that?"

"No, I'm - Oh all right," Jh'slaen grumbled. "It's only _sore,_ not really hurt."

"Soreness is usually your body's way of saying 'Hey, I am hurt,'" said D'val, as he climbed onto the bed and kneeled behind Jh'slaen. "But if you think you are just sore, then who am I to argue?" he added, as he cautiously lifted up the other man's shirt.

"You know what I mean," Jh'slaen said, allowing the other greerider to help him out of his shirt. "It's not some gaping Threadscore or a dislocated shoulder or anything."

D'val folded the shirt in half and then in half again before laying it aside. "And I'm just saying that just because it's not something that looks or feels serious doesn't mean that you shouldn't treat it seriously," he said, working his hands across Jh'slaen's shoulders and down his upper back. "Where exactly does it hurt?"

"From here," Jh'slaen said, raising his good arm to touch his bad shoulder, close to his neck, to about half way down the back and a little way down here on the front." He couldn't help but be more intrigued by D'val's neatness in folding the discarded shirt. "Would you say you were a tidy person?"

Last updated on the March 10th 2007

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The Tidy Boys (part 1 of 2)