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“Come on, bridgeboy, it won’t hurt,” Adolin wheedled. He had convinced Kaladin to join them at Adolin and Shallan’s rooms after a long day.
“...much,” Shallan added, winking.
“I don’t know,” Kaladin said. “Isn’t that a service for lighteyes?”
“You’re a lighteyes now, Kaladin,” Shallan argued. “It’s a service you can get. And if you can get it from another lighteyes, it should be doubly good for you, shouldn’t it? You’re always saying Adolin doesn’t know what it means to do a good day of work.”
Kaladin crossed his arms. The truth was, he had been sitting in a chair all day, talking to patients, then running his group, and his back was sore from holding the same position for hours on end. When he was running bridges, he could roll his shoulders or get Hobber to strike his back for him, but Hobber was away on a mission, and Kaladin couldn’t roll his back so easily. He looked at Adolin, who had already cleared a table and was laying a blanket down. He sighed in resignation.
“Come on, Kaladin, don’t make me beg,” Adolin said, rolling up his sleeves. “I won’t even make you take your clothes off.” He winked and gestured to the table.
“I…” Kaladin stammered. “I wasn’t aware that was part of it.”
Shallan elbowed Adolin. “Stop scaring him,” she said out of the corner of her mouth. “I promise I’ll be here as your chaperone, to make sure Adolin doesn’t take advantage of you.”
Kaladin huffed skeptically. “I’d trust Pattern over you, quite honestly,” he said, then pointed. “Is that your drawing pad? You’re not going to draw this, are you?” He frowned.
Adolin elbowed Shallan. “Stop scaring him and put that down... for now.” He said the last part quietly, making Kaladin think he wasn’t supposed to hear it.
Kaladin rolled his eyes. These are supposed to be my friends, he thought to himself sarcastically, and yet somehow he laid himself on the table anyway.
Adolin coughed, waving his arm over Kaladin in an awkward gesture. “Unless you want me to massage your chest, Kal, you need to turn over.”
Kaladin blushed and turned onto his stomach. “I don’t know how to do this,” he said defensively. “You’re the one that’s supposed to know what - ahhhh.” He heaved a long sigh as Adolin spread his large, warm hands on the inside of his shoulder blades, one hand on each side of his spine, then pushed them out to the sides. He repeated that a few times, warming his muscles.
Kaladin’s eyes closed of their own accord, and his head fell imperceptibly. He hadn’t even realized he was still holding it up a bit. He breathed out slowly, and Adolin timed his movement to Kaladin’s breath, slowly pressing his thumbs on either side of Kaladin’s spine, then moving them upward in a smooth motion. It was a bit painful, but it seemed strangely like a good kind of pain.
He does know what he’s doing, Kaladin realized, and for a few moments he didn’t think of anything except the warm pressure moving across his back in smooth, coordinated motions.
A pleased hum escaped Kaladin’s mouth, only belatedly hearing what that must have sounded like. Almighty, I don’t want Adolin to think I’m liking this too much. He was already stretching the bounds of propriety. He became aware of a skritching sound, and opened his eyes. Shallan had positioned herself behind them, and he was sure that she was sketching.
“Shallan, that had better not be a sketch of what’s happening right now,” Kaladin growled.
“This drawing is a lie,” Pattern said gleefully, “but there is truth here too. Very delicious! Ha ha!”
Kaladin shifted a bit, but Adolin put an elbow to the crook of his neck, and Kaladin heaved a regretful sigh of pleasure. He didn’t want to get up, and besides, Shallan may have taken a Memory, and ending the massage early wouldn’t change that. Now that he was here, he really needed this. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder. “Syl?” he asked. “What is Shallan drawing?”
Syl flew over and didn’t say anything for a long time. Kaladin grew nervous. “Huh,” she said eventually.
“What is it?” Kaladin asked, a knot of dread forming in his stomach.
“Well, I’m no artist, but I think Shallan is drawing it wrong. You’re not wearing any clothes,” Syl giggled.
“I’m what?” Kaladin asked, mortified.
“Don’t worry, Adolin’s naked too,” Syl said. “It’s not just you!”
“See? A lie and a truth!” Pattern buzzed with delight.
“Shallan, you’re the worst chaperone,” Kaladin growled.
“I promised you that Adolin wouldn’t take advantage. I didn’t say anything about me,” she preened.
“That’s why I married her,” Adolin laughed.
“This one’s going to hang in the bedroom,” Shallan said matter-of-factly.
Insufferable woman! “Oh no it’s not,” Kaladin announced, and Lashed himself sideways, knocking Adolin over with a grunt, and grabbed Shallan’s sketch pad, falling to the wall on the other side of the room. Shallan chased him, but too slowly, and even jumping she couldn’t reach Kaladin. He walked up the wall and leaned back against the ceiling, taking a close look at the offending image.
He huffed a laugh of disbelief. “I think you took some liberties here, Shallan,” he smirked. It was a very flattering drawing. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to confiscate this.” He tore off the sheet and ripped it into pieces, and they fell to the floor like so many shamespren. “And don’t you dare draw it again from a Memory. Swear an oath you won’t!”
“I won’t draw that drawing again,” Shallan swore.
He walked down the wall and shook her hand on it. “I think I’m done with massages for today,” Kaladin said, and grabbed his jacket to leave.
“But you’re not done!” Adolin complained.
“Take it up with your wife,” Kaladin said, and left with a wave. “I’ll see you tomorrow for duelling practice.” Syl shrugged, then flew after him.
In the hallway, Kaladin froze. Why would Shallan want a naked drawing of me in her bedroom?
*************
“He probably left just as tense as he was when he arrived,” Adolin said with an irritated tone as he slumped into a chair.
“I guess next time I won’t be allowed to be present,” Shallan said with a sly glance at Adolin.
“You mink!” Adolin smiled. “You did that on purpose so I could get him alone?”
“Oh, he’ll be back for more, don’t worry,” Shallan said confidently.
“Too bad about that drawing though,” Adolin said, looking sadly at the torn up paper littering the floor.
Shallan grinned. “Well he did say I took too many liberties. If I draw him again with a smaller ass, technically it’s a different picture…”
“Bedroom!” Adolin called. “He’ll never see it there.”
“Oh, never say never,” Shallan grinned.