27: They're Not You, Are They?

The afternoon was warm and sunny, the cloudless blue sky overhead suffused with the promise of summer. Yeresym put a hand up to his forehead, shielding his eyes that were unused to the bright light now. Sevei would like to do the same, with all the time he'd spent in that darkened tent as well, but he kept both hands firmly on the wheelchair he'd argued Yeresym into.

It had been quite the trial convincing General Urskatha that not one soul in the camp would think him weak for sustaining injuries in battle. In fact, the soldiers of the Third Cavalry were particularly grateful to him for preventing the loss of their General. As Sevei, Meira, and Yanek escorted him through the camp, he was met with salutes, bows, and even a smattering of applause along the way, to Yeresym's utter embarrassment.

As they neared the river, personnel became sparse, as Sevei had ordered the area cleared. Only a few guards could be seen patrolling the borders of camp. When they reached Sevei's favored swimming hole, Meira and Yanek stayed behind outside the treeline, while Sevei took Yeresym as close to the shore as the wheelchair would allow.

The river was calm today, the surface of the pool clear and green, tinged with blue as it reflected the sky. The sounds of the camp could be heard mutely in the distance, but here there were only birds twittering overhead along with a disgruntled squirrel grousing somewhere in the treetops.

Standing beside the stilled wheelchair, Sevei began to strip his clothes off. Yeresym glanced at him sharply.

“What-”

“Well, I'm going in, too,” Sevei said as if it should be obvious. “Can't have you floundering around in the water in your condition.”

“I wouldn't-” Yeresym answered hotly. He sighed then, calming down. “Do what you want.”

Sevei chuckled as Yeresym turned his face away prudishly.

“How old are you?” he teased.

“Twenty-eight,” Yeresym huffed. “Far too old for a minder.”

“How are you still so shy at this age?” Sevei prodded. “You bathe along with the men, don't you?”

“They're not you, are they?” Yeresym snapped.

“You've got me there,” Sevei conceded as the last of his clothing came away. He leaned over the wheelchair, tucking a hand under Yeresym's elbow. “Of course, you could have me anywhere.”

Yeresym turned his head to retort, but fell silent as his nose bumped into Sevei's bare chest. Sevei only tugged on his elbow.

“Come on, your turn,” Sevei said plainly.

Yeresym turned his head again and nodded silently as he began pulling at the ties of the loose black robe he wore today. It parted in the front, and he leaned forward to shrug out of it. Sevei grasped the top edge of the robe and drew it down, doing his utmost to keep his fingers from dragging across Yeresym's skin as he went. The man was unusually testy today, and Sevei knew his patience would only stretch so far. Still, he couldn't help but admire the view as inch by inch of Yeresym's back was uncovered.

As he pulled Yeresym up to his feet and firmly took his arm, Sevei was meticulously careful not to look. He sincerely was not out to take advantage of the situation, although the feel of bare skin against his side was sorely tempting, as was the way Yeresym clung to him occasionally as they edged into the water.

Yeresym was not completely incapacitated, only shaky. Once in the pool, the water helped hold him on his feet, and Sevei led him slowly over to the rocky embankment, settling him on a seat in the shallows that was sheltered by the graceful branches of a willow tree hanging down into the water. Sevei set a basket full of soap and cloths on a nearby stone and began to take some of the items out, meticulously careful to not look down.

“I've got it from here,” Yeresym said. “You don't have to hover.”

Sevei nodded, then hopped off the rock he stood on down into the chest-high water.

“There's a ledge here,” he warned. “Don't slip off.”

“I won't move,” Yeresym promised.

Sevei leaned back in the water and pushed his foot on the stone, gliding backward and putting himself on unabashed display at the water's surface. He turned over and swam a few laps around the pool, then moved to its center. Keeping his face low to the surface, he crouched vertically and planted his feet into the soft sand of the pool's floor, squeezing it between his toes.

From this position, he sneaked a look at Yeresym. The bright sunlight streamed down on him, illuminating his hair and skin. Sevei was captivated with the movement of his hands, scrubbing the soap over his muscled body. He had lost a bit of weight during his bedridden days, but not enough to make him look sickly. If anything, he only looked tighter and leaner, his muscles sharper, lending a somewhat feral edge to his usually cultured appearance.

His body heating at the sight, Sevei blew a stream of bubbles out into the water to calm himself, bringing a sharp glance from Yeresym. Sevei smiled at him, then took a deep breath and sank down under the water.

He was instantly gripped with terror, its icy hand seeming to squeeze his stomach and then slide up his throat, but he planted his knees into the river floor. Taking comfort in the firm bedrock beneath the sand, he pushed any unpleasant memories away and began to count the seconds, focusing his mind on maintaining control of his body.

When he reached the absolute end of his lungs' capacity, he pushed up onto his feet and broke the surface into the air again, whipping his wet hair aside. He wiped the water from his eyes, then opened them to find Yeresym half-standing and struggling to come down from the rocks, his trembling legs threatening to slip from under him at any moment.

“Woah!” Sevei shouted. He launched himself into the water, swimming swiftly across the pool. Standing in the water in front of Yeresym, he took his waist in both hands to make him sit again. “Where might you be going?” he laughed, before wincing at Yeresym's fingers digging painfully into his arms. He froze in confusion at Yeresym's furious and panicked expression.

“Don't do that!” Yeresym ground out between clenched teeth, his wide eyes boring into Sevei's. “Don't do that again.”

“Oh, shit!” Sevei said as realization struck. “Yeresym, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking.” He threw a glance over his shoulder at the pool behind him. “That's just a thing I've been doing... to manage myself. I really don't fancy being scared of water for the rest of my life. Just trying to nip that in the bud.” He ended on a nervous laugh, trailing away as Yeresym was clearly not amused.

Yeresym took a few deep, steadying breaths, then tore his gaze away. He took his hands off of Sevei and brought them to rest on the rock at his sides. Sevei began to smooth his palms up and down Yeresym's thighs, an attempt at comfort.

“Is that why you didn't want to come down here?” he asked quietly. “Believe me, I was nervous about it too, for a while.”

“I overreacted,” Yeresym clipped, avoiding his eyes, but sneaking a glance at the hands moving over his legs.

Sevei plucked the chunk of soap from a high rock next to Yeresym and lathered up his hands before returning to the task he'd begun. Yeresym scowled.

“Stop that,” he said irritably. “I don't need to be washed like a child.”

“I'm not washing, I'm massaging,” Sevei informed him. “You might have strained something trying to stand just now. That would be my fault, so let me take responsibility.”

Yeresym huffed, but made no move to stop him. After glaring at Sevei for a long moment, he gave a defeated sigh, a very small amount of the tension in his body releasing. He leaned back slightly, closed his eyes, and tilted his face up into the sun.