003. Give massage (maybe as a separate continuation to the medical care from before?)
touch meme. send one to do to my muse |accepting
@seiriel – 003 give massage
After the mission was finally completed, reports were made and sent in – King decides it’s best that he takes a break in the back garden. Plotting himself down on of the benches – a sigh of relief escapes his lips, folding his arms over his chest and cranes his head back to gaze upon the sky above him. It’s peaceful… just like the way he enjoys most things. And he has a chance to finally let his mind blank out on what happened today… if only that was possible. He still feels quite bad about earlier; having Ace take the reigns on attending him when he got injured.
I should be the one to do that. Not him. There’s no point of dwelling on it now when it’s said and done.
“King?” Someone calls out. That particularly someone is Ace, how ironic.
Lifting his head off the back of the bench, somewhat tired crimson eyes watch as the younger blond venture on over to him. Ace seemed to be sort of… fidgety? Did something happen for him to be that way? King was about to question what was going on, but Ace had already spoken up. And what leaves his mouth is bewildering.
“I want to give you a massage. That mission was a bit too rough on us, so I’d like to help relax you.”
A massage, huh? That’s rare coming from Ace. But, again, it’s Ace, what else could he expect from a boy who’s too kindhearted? “Alright,” came the response, shrugging afterwards. “If that’s what you want to do, then go ahead. I don’t mind.” With that being said, King had gotten off of the bench and head towards one of the chairs to sit himself down whilst Ace had stood behind him, hands hovering and ready to get started.
“Let me know if it gets too much.”
I doubt it. he thought, refolding his arms and slowly closes his eyes as Ace begun on working on his shoulders first. It was rough, sure, but it wasn’t too rough that he couldn’t handle. It’s not like the young boy had heavy hands unlike himself. Also, his hands were pretty nice. They don’t get all rough and calloused whenever he holds his cards, compared to him holding his guns. King thinks his hands are… soft. That’s not inappropriate to admit right? Right. Just not out loud or it’ll be taken a certain way. He’s held his hand once or twice, only to put a few band-aids on his fingers whenever a chocobo’s chicklings pecked way too hard for comfort.
Within the ten to fifteen minutes of Ace getting the wretched knots out of his shoulders, he feels way more relaxed and even ready to fall asleep comfortably in his bed later on.
“I hope that was alright.”
“You did good,” King puts a hand upon one of his shoulders, rolling it just to test out how better it felt. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
