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"Adoi! Jebat, sakitlah!"
"Aku tahu, just say still–"
"JEBAAAAAAAT!"
A thunderous wail broke the peace and quiet of the Malaccan fishing village, which was a norm since they knew the screaming belonged to Hang Mahmud's son, Tuah.
Accompanying Tuah, Jebat sat across the screaming boy, trying to get the fire ants off his face,
"I told you," Jebat huffed, "I told you something would happen if you stole Imam Deraman's rambutans. Degil." The taller boy nagged as he picked off the remaining fire ants and pebbles from Tuah's knees,
"Eleh! You're nagging me now?!" Tuah yelled out, flailing his arms in protest, "I tell ya, Imam Deraman has 'something' protecting his rambutan trees, this always happens to me, I know it!"
"Or, get this, maybe you're just a bad climber," The other boy retorted, followed by laughter, while Tuah looked sullen,
"That's not true! I have some rambutans here!" Tuah yelled out, as he lifted a branch with a single tiny unripe rambutan.
Jebat wanted to laugh, but figured that he'd teased the other enough. It was obvious that Jebat was stifling his laughter, much to Tuah's chagrin.
After carefully brushing out the last fire ant that crept on Tuah's knee, Jebat did notice that Tuah was scratching a lot, especially at his face. Truth be told, Tuah looked as good as a rotten fruit. Swelling, red bumps appeared all over Tuah's face as a result of the fire ant attack. Instead of leaving it be, Tuah is making it worse by scratching on it more. Jebat sighed sympathetically, before moving his gaze at Tuah.
A thought came to Jebat's mind, he quickly fixated his gaze upon Tuah,
"Tuah, tutup mata."
"Why?" The other boy asked,
"Buat je."
As Tuah closed his eyes, he felt something… soft? brush up against the bump on his cheek, which sent him backing up to the rambutan tree in panic. Jebat merely wiped his lips with his arm, before smiling at Tuah's bewildered expression,
"K-kau buat apa?!" Tuah yelled out, a deep red appeared on his face, but it wasn't from the bumps,
"Mak said doing that heals even the most wounded soldier in a battlefield," Jebat stated, "Did I do a good job?" A cheeky smile formed on the taller boy's lips as he awaits an answer.
Tuah looked down, his lip trembling as he ran his fingers through the bumpy, dusty ground,
"Tuah?" Jebat felt guilty when the other fell silent, "I'm sor–"
"Again."
"Apa dia?"
"Do it again," Tuah averted his eyes, "what you did before. It's not fully healed yet."
Jebat shyly smiled,
"Bertuah punya Tuah."
-------
"What's so funny, saudara?"
An older Jebat gazed at a worn out Tuah. It was nearing Maghrib, and the two had a silat sparring session from Zohor. The sky allowed rays of the evening sun to creep onto the wooden pangkin, but carefully enough as to not disturb the two Bendaharas,
"Takdelah," Tuah sighed out, wiping off the sweat forming on his forehead, "teringat cerita lama, is all."
Puberty and the constant silat training did its job with Tuah, he thought, he looks more...
A pang of heat appeared on the bendahara's cheeks as Jebat caught himself staring at Tuah. He quickly shook his head, before lying down next to his friend on the pangkin, noticing that the other was lost in his own thoughts,
"Jebat."
"Mm?"
"I'm a bit injured, y'know?"
Jebat sat up straight, arching a brow, "Mana ada, I didn't land a hit on you earlier,"
"Betul," Tuah insisted, "I- I was thinking.." The words trailed off as Tuah took a deep breath, looking away from Jebat,
"Apa dia?" Jebat inched closer, resting his chin on the bigger man's shoulder which made Tuah flinch in return. Jebat noticed an increase in Tuah's body temperature,
"...w-what your Mak said before, about the thing that heals even the most wounded soldier.." Tuah murmured, turning his head towards Jebat's direction, still averting his eyes,
"Can you do it again?"
Eh?
Apa dia?
Tuah quickly looked away, leaving Jebat to process the other's words,
and then it clicked.
The other was shifting uncomfortably, and was muttering profanities under his breath. Jebat couldn't see Tuah's face clearly, but he picture his partner's flushed look.
A smile crept on Jebat's lips, a fond one,
"Close your eyes." Jebat muttered as he cupped the other's cheek, making Tuah face him. Tuah's face felt rough and sticky with sweat, as a result of the sparring session.
But that's not an issue for Jebat, is it now?
Tuah's gaze obviously softened under Jebat's touch, their eyes met and subconsciously, the two men leaned in,
"Bertuah punya Tuah." Jebat murmured, inches away from Tuah's lips.