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"Can I ask you something?"
Evbo glanced up from where he was stood sifting through a heavy-bound novel, startled at the sudden address. Both he and EMF had been in companionable silence for the last several hours, sorting through the collection in the abandoned library of the Fighter layer. EMF was apparently a hobby historian and was enchanted by the idea of some insight into how things had once been. Evbo was just trying to acclimatize himself to the existence of said history. It really couldn't be emphasized enough how jarring it'd been to be told that even the layout of the world he'd known was a deception, and when most of the time he'd spent there had been spent racing against the clock and brushing up against death, there'd not been time to let in sink in.
Tracing his fingers over the cover of the book in his hands, helpfully titled 'The Prior 50 Years; Chronicled', he smiled at his closest friend. "Always. What's up?"
"Have you always worn those?" EMF said, gesturing at Evbo's hand and wrist area. Confused, he glanced down and re-shelved the book in his hands to see what his buddy was talking about. Before he could ask for clarification, EMF offered it. "Your gloves. I just don't remember you wearing them."
"Oh! Right." Evbo blinked, looking at his hands like it was the first time he was hearing of this development as well. In a way he was - he'd slept in the things and forgotten about it, normally taking them off for varying periods, and such hadn't noticed he'd still had them on at present. "Yeah, I got them a few weeks ago. Just been testing them out, seeing how they work for me."
EMF hopped closer, reaching out with his own night-coloured hand, stopping just short and waiting for assent. Evbo easily gave it and held out his gloved hands, and EMF turned them over, feeling at the soft material before letting go. "They're just for fashion, then? Sure don't feel like they're made for practicality - that's not grippy material."
The blond shrugged, abruptly unsure how much he was comfortable sharing despite knowing his buddy would never judge him for it. It was just - this wasn't the kind of thing you'd expect a borderline 'god' to struggle with. It ruined his image, y'know? Man, no, that was kinda dumb.
"They're, uh, compression gloves?" He havered, leaning from foot to foot anxiously and tucking his hands in the front pockets of his open hoodie. "Good for circulation and stuff."
"You... need that?
"Doesn't hurt, right? And it works for fashion too!" Evbo rediverted, laughing shortly. "Now I'm full-prepped from head-to-toe!"
EMF huffed a breath through his nose, apparently satisfied, tracing his steps back to where he'd been before this line of inquiry had began. "You sure are. I do kinda think the wetsuit is an overreaction when you literally hate using water buckets and avoid them like the plague."
Evbo glanced down at himself, grinning. Indeed, ever since his ascension he'd tried to kit himself up suitingly, ever-prepared for anything the world might decide to throw at him next. A looser jumper with bigger pockets to fit more inventory, more form-fitting jeans that wouldn't catch, a carabiner to hold de-equipped buckets at his waist, knee-bracers for impacts. The biggest change was the one EMF had pointed to though, being the upper wetsuit he'd slip on under his jacket everyday in lieu of an ordinary t-shirt. What, it looked kinda cool! And he was sick, both figuratively and literally, of ending up drenched in water from unfortunately necessary water clutches and having to shiver in water-logged clothes until he had a chance to change. This fixed that! Partly. And it looked real cool. Seawatt said that, anyway, and Evbo found he really cared what Seawatt thought of him.
"Weren't you sick of my t-shirt choices?" He asked EMF smugly, harkening back to an incident when he'd shown up in a shirt with a meme so sickeningly outdated that everyone who saw him seemed to be struggling not to leap into the void from cringe. EMF, fittingly, shuddered.
"Alright, if it keeps you from fashion disasters like that, by all means keep boiling in your bodysuit."
"I like it." Evbo said, and the conversation ended, his friend turning back to the collection he was eyeing. The blond surreptitiously rose his hands back from his pockets, glancing down at them, lip twisting.
The wetsuit had long skin-tight sleeves, too, which helped hide what the gloves couldn't cover. That was helpful.
...
When the sun bode too low on the horizon and the two of them had to wave farewell to each other and step back into their respective homes, he could almost feel the skin burning beneath its confine. Therepeutic wear only really suited for as long as it was MEANT to be worn, after all, and Evbo had long overdone the 8 hour marker he'd been advised to keep to. Sighing, he peeled the cloth off his hand.
Yep.
As bad as ever.
In the dim orange light cast through the windows they weren't so bad, not nearly as bad as they looked under the full beam of the midday sun, but it still wasn't pretty.
"Gross." He mumbled, weary and ready to flop into bed, completely tuning out the way they were already starting to burn feverishly despite being away from any heat source. At least it wasn't that horrible stabbing feeling this time, that one that made it feel like there were still fragments of crystal embedded in his flesh, wriggling under the skin and re-traumatizing the bare muscle. Man.
Looking around to check he'd locked the door, the fill-in parkour god ascended the staircase in his home, on the verge of totally crashing out. And there it was just ahead of him, exactly what he wanted to see, the divine comfort he sought. Those familiar red bedsheets, the soft white pillow, that dark skin and cheeky smile-
Wait.
Evbo froze at the top of the staircase, staring mutely. Shook his head. Rubbed his eyes. Squinted. Stared.
Slumped. "Did you seriously break into my house?"
Seawatt's grin widened, sharklike. "I thought I was welcome 'anytime, anyhow, for any reason'? What, were you just blowing smoke up my ass?"
Evbo hopped over the gap seperating his entryway from his bed, ignoring his enemy-turned-friend to instead flick on the bedside light, better illumimating his situation. "I was genuine," he started slowly, too tired to dance around whatever wordplay Seawatt wanted to trap him with today "But I meant when I'm, like, home? And that you could talk to me if you were having trouble with something, not that you can sit here on my bed all day waiting for me like... like you're my girlfriend or something." Running a hand through his hair, his fingers caught on his bandana, and after a moment of thought he pulled it off and let his hair fall messily into his face. "Speaking of, can you actually move. Long day. Achey muscles. Need sleep."
"Ohhh, I dunno." Seawatt groaned, stretching out in his position before propping his head up on one palm, dark curly hair falling to frame his features. He wasn't wearing that ornery headpiece today, Evbo noticed, nor much of his golden jewelry. Only one of his arm-bracers remained. In this lighting he almost looked like he was glowing golden, vibrant in contrast to the stark red sheets. "I mean, it's sooo comfy here!" Seawatt continued, tracing his free hand's pointer finger into the sheets below and affixing Evbo with an oddly intense expression, eyes dark under the typical smokey eyeshadow. "I might just stay all night. Really see how the other half live."
"You were the other half." Evbo said, hands on his hips. "You literally lived a life of luxury for decades. I ate raw chicken for decades. Because of you. Get out my bed."
Seawatt's near-flirty expression fell, clearly accepting defeat rather than bothering with an argument. He took a moment to leisurely yawn and stretch before departing, though, and Evbo shuffled his feet and averted his eyes at the sight of those flexing muscles and sated expression. It was too late to be focusing on stuff like that.
"I'm up!" Seawatt assured him, stepping back and making a flourishing movement with his hands. "The floor is yours, sir President. Didn't realize Mr.Happy would be all sour after a long day of poking into my home, but..." the brunett sashayed past, shoulder-checking him gently. "I'll give you your beauty sleep."
"Thanks." Evbo grumbled, already maneuvering out of his jacket. Having left it undone for this exact reason it slid off with ease, before being slung up over the bedpost. Deciding to leave his 'shirt' for last, his fingers twitched toward his knee bracers, deciding those made sense to be next. Or would have, had his digits co-operated and functioned properly, instead of abruptly cramping up with little warning, hitting him with a wave of fresh pain.
For a moment, it was just white, frozen in place with his breath dead in his throat, trying to ride the wave without agitating it. Having these as often as he did sadly hadn't accustomed him to them yet, and he didn't know if he could get used to it.
Vision crept back in alongside audio, and when he came to himself he was again acquainted with the sight of his frenemy's face, now right before him and knitted with worry.
"Can you hear me?" Seawatt prompted, waiting patiently as Evbo inhaled shakily. The two of them just stood together for a breath, giving Evbo the time and room to pace his breathing and re-organize his now cluttered thoughts.
"I'm good. All good." Evbo said, untensing his jaw. "I just- crap. It really hurts."
"What hurts?" Seawatt's voice grew in urgency, looking searchingly all over his body, clearly coming up short of an obvious injury, eventually looking at the knee Evbo had just been reaching for. "Your leg? Knee? Want me to lie you down?"
Evbo shook his head quickly, horribly anxious again at the idea of revealing such a blatant weakness, especially toward the man who would have eagerly exploited such a thing mere months ago. Hell, who was to say he wouldn't still use it against him, if not physically, then mentally? Seawatt was sharp with his words whether he always intended to be or not, and Evbo often had to swallow back genuine hurt in order to keep the peace.
But he really was the only person around right now, was likely the only person AWAKE in the entire neighbourhood besides him, and Evbo really didn't know if he had the psychological grit to try to undo his armour pieces again. Which he needed to. Sure couldn't sleep in them.
Decision made, he rose his hands, watching as his frenemy's gaze immediately focused on them entirely. It was a little endearing. "My hands, dude. It's my hands. They're really screwed up."
He could see the exact moment Seawatt noticed, when he comprehended the intensity of scarring focused around the blond's hands. Evbo didn't even blame him for not noticing initially - the leader had been forcing himself to emote with his hands less and less, keeping them firmly to his side and thus swamped by the large sleeves of his hoodie and the garments he wore underneath. Evbo had also been working desperately to minimize scarring, keeping to every piece of advice he knew of and could find, being careful. Still.
"How did you manage that?" Seawatt breathed, horrified. "It's both of them - do you have nerve damage? Is that why they're locked up like that?"
"Yeah, it's... it's pretty bad. Like real bad. They kinda go on a sliding scale from 'numbness so intense I literally can't feel a knife going into my skin' to 'just got dipped in the depths of hades'." Evbo said, sheepish. "Motor skills have got pretty affected too. Like now. Um. If you're willing, I'd love some help getting my boots and stuff off. If you're cool."
The other looked at him with open horror before apparently coming to an internal decision and snapping his agape mouth shut, nodding and forcing the usual smile up, transparently put-on as it was. "Call it payback after I broke into your place. Sit on the bed, then, it'll be easier for both of us."
Evbo did as he was bid, trying not to let his oversensitive palms sweat at the sight of Seawatt sinking to one knee between his knees, apparently oblivious to the sight he made as he brought his hands to the blond's knee bracers. Taking a moment to puzzle out where the whole situation was bound together, the brunette began to work on it - though not silently. "You didn't say how that happened."
"You really don't remember?"
"Remember?" Seawatt's gaze sharpened. "I was there?"
"You were around right after, so I guess... I expected you to kinda put the pieces together?" Evbo picked at the neck of his wetsuit, trying not to think about how he'd get that particular article of clothing off. "Though, uh, I did wrap them up before I saw you. Shittily. But I did cover them. So maybe you just didn't see how bad it got."
It sunk in quickly. "The crystal course." Seawatt breathed, in disbelief. "When you were getting the discs. You said you kept nearly falling - did you catch yourself with your hands?"
Evbo blushed, chastened. It was the reproving tone of a teacher, nearly, and was quite effective in making him feel shame. "It hurt."
"Of course it hurt!" His former enemy snapped, though he at least kept at the task he was committed to, now moving to wrangle the blond's boots off. "You were putting your entire body weight onto your hands, on RAZOR SHARP blades! And what, did you not even get that looked at? Just sloppily wrapped your shredded muscles in bandages and called it a day?"
Shame turned to anger. "Right, and who's fucking fault is that, huh?"
Tense silence.
The second glittering boot was pulled off, and quietly moved aside, propped up neatly against the side of the bed. The bracers lay next to them, ties splayed out loosely, ready to be donned again. Put down with care, respect, guilt... things Evbo had never thought another human could feel for him. Things he'd never been able to hope he deserved for the first near-three decades of his life.
Anger turned to resignation.
"I don't hate you. I'm not even still mad, actually. But like... don't tell me off for something like this, okay? I'm not gonna have that fight with you. I'm just not." he said.
Seawatt closed his eyes and leant forward, forehead pressed against Evbo's newly-freed knee. The blond squashed the urge to squeak in surprise, instead watching and waiting for a response. He didn't have to wait long.
"I'm sorry."
Evbo stared. "Pardon?"
"I'm SORRY." Seawatt emphasized, voice forceful even as he kept his face strategically hidden from view. "I don't know if I've ever said that to you properly before, so I'm doing it now. You didn't deserve what I put you through. I've been trying to put it behind us, get a fresh start, but I didn't realize you can't do that. You're literally permenantly crippled by it. So just... I'm sorry."
"Don't say it like that." Evbo complained, trying to divert his feelings away from the burning sensation in his chest that came from being reminded again that he was worth apologizing to now. That was surreal enough. "Don't use that word. It's not even that bad, I guess. I can still do most stuff, I've just lost my finer motor skills. Like I can't really write anymore. But hey, that's fine, I wasn't great at that anyway!" He tried to laugh, the sound petering out when Seawatt lifted his face and the obvious distress on the man's face was apparent. "It really is fine, dude. I'm not just saying that to make you feel better or something."
"Is there anything I can do to make it... better?" Seawatt offered, serious. "Anything that helps?"
"I wear my compression gloves, but I'm not meant to sleep in them." Evbo jerked his elbow toward where they lay discarded. "I think heat helps a bit as well, but I don't know how to have a sustainable, portable source of heat like that. A guy suggested maybe doing some redstone trickery or trying to harness a blaze rod, but it sounds too risky. Otherwise I don't think anything helps all that much. Health potions turned out to be a dud."
Seawatt propped his chin on the blond's knee, seemingly oblivious to the effect he was causing, and gazed contemplatively at nothing, which really meant his gaze bore straight into Evbo's chest. "Pressure and heat, huh? Would something like a massage help, then?"
Evbo had to wonder if he'd reopened one of his wounds and it'd subsequently caught infection, because the heat swathing his body and rushing to crowd his face felt near feverish. "W-Woah. I dunno. Sounds kinda intimate."
The tension constraining the brunet eased at the silly turn of topic, that familiar smile being put right back in place. It was comforting. Seawatt's face was just suited to those cocky smug expressions, he looked borderline off-model when he was upset. "Your HANDS being touched sounds intimate to you?"
"Having someone rubbing part of my body does." Evbo mumbled. "I've never had someone be close enough to do anything like that." Tiredness was creeping right back up on him, reminding him that he'd intended to be asleep by now, and it was making his tongue looser. It would've normally been humiliating to admit he hadn't so much as held someone's hand before... unless catching EMF before he fell one time counted, which he somewhat doubted. Ouch, even remembering that made him shudder. His hand had smarted for days.
Seawatt ascended from his kneel, standing before him and meeting his gaze with real sincerity, even as his voice was still light and airy. "Well, what if I promise to be super duper safe for work about it?"
Huh?
"Wait. YOU'RE offering? You specifically? R-right now?" Surely he was misunderstanding somehow?
His frenemy stepped back and put some distance between them, about a foot of it. "If you're down. If it really is 'too intimate', then obviously I won't push you on it. I just offer because you said you wanted to sleep, and I feel like you'll have trouble now. I mean, your hands haven't stopped twitching since they locked up, and you're clearly not doing that on purpose."
Looking down, Evbo saw what he meant. Both hands were rocked by violent tremors, completely uncontrollable no matter how hard he tried, shuddering when he overlapped them and tried to force them still. Yeah, he wasn't gonna be able to sleep with that going on. Surprisingly enough they didn't really hurt, but the sensation of violent movement traced all the way up his arms, and THAT sucked.
"Damn. Um. Yeah."
"Yeah?" Seawatt perked up.
"Yeah, I guess. If you know what you're doing."
"I know enough." Was the assurance granted, and Evbo shuffled sideways on the bed when he was gestured to, giving Seawatt room to flop down beside him. "Due warning, yeah it will feel weird at first, especially if you've never done anything like this before. Hopefully it'll help though."
"I can handle-" Evbo yawned, face scrunching up. "I can handle weird. My whole life is weird."
"It sure is. Hold out a hand, then. Either works."
Evbo complied and proferred his left hand, palm-up, uncertain if he was meant to orient it a certain way. Clearly not, as Seawatt immediately took it with confidence and flattened his own palm overtop briefly, testing the waters and seeing if even that brief contact was too much before they got started. When the blond didn't pull away he felt his hand be turned over as Seawatt began to gently apply pressure, starting at the tips of his fingers and giving short, smooth motions toward the knuckles. Another glance upward, and Evbo nodded again to confirm continued consent. It really was weird, he though as those deft fingers danced over the back of his hand and worked at the tension built up there, but it wasn't bad. In fact when the pressure reached the base of his palm where his wrist began, he actually began to feel a bit of a decompression, the tension in his joints easing fractionally. Battling to swallow down a sigh of relief he tried to find something to keep his eyes on, so he wouldn't be stuck staring at their joined hands or the other's face. Of course, that was when he was thoroughly jumpscared by Seawatt intertwining their fingers together.
"This is just to stretch the joints a bit." Seawatt assured him quickly. "Don't worry, I'm nearly done."
"Mhm!" Was the best Evbo could manage in return.
When the work on his other hand began, Evbo found he had to find a topic of interest or he'd seriously go mad from the silence.
"So" He began, swinging a leg anxiously. "Where'd you pick this up from? Not much reason to learn to give someone a hand massage. Ha."
Seawatt made a face. "My mother."
Ah, shit. Divert, divert! "Do you have any scars?" THAT WAS WORSE! NO!
Before he could take it back he heard the most beautiful laugh, going stock still when he realized it was from the man sat beside him, crimson burning across his cheeks as he watched Seawatt cackle, letting go of him briefly to half-obscure it behind a raised hand.
"What?!" Evbo exclaimed, thoroughly humiliated.
Still giggling, Seawatt lowered his hand and looked at the blond fondly. "You really do feel awkward right now, huh? The way you blurted that out, and that look of instant regret. You sure are clumsy for a fill-in god."
"M'not a god."
"Of course you're not. You just have dominion over reality itself. Nothing godly about that."
"Great god I am" Evbo scoffed, raising the hand that hadn't been finished yet, emphasizing the way it continued to tremble. Seawatt smiled and reached out, taking hold of it and seemingly unconsciously rubbing it, maintaining eye contact.
"You look fine. This is fine. It doesn't ruin your 'image' or whatever the hell you're being insecure about. All that matters is it bothers you, and you have me for that." He said confidently. "I'll do this for you as long as you'll have me. If you get sick of it I can teach you to do it on yourself, or I can even get EMF or someone else to, if they'll listen to me. Don't feel like you need to hide these things.
Evbo swallowed, something painful swelling in his chest. "You'd really do that for me?"
"It's the least I owe you. Hey, if we spend enough time doing this, maybe you'll get to know the answer to that question you had. Right now, though, focus on getting sleepy. It's late, and I'm nearly done."
"Mm..."
"Oh, you need help with that shirt too, by the way?"
"N-NO!"
That night, Evbo slept better than he'd done in months, free of body shakes or nightmares.