deserted #5
Khai is not very good at working.
This is probably a default of his character, but he’s just never been required to do real work before. His parents are grateful he’s passing, not applauding their genius son or anything like that. He’d never explicitly thought of himself as lazy, but he’s re-evaluating that as he tries to follow Third’s instructions.
He tries.
Then, he gives up.
“Hoi…” Khai whines, back aching. “Do we have to do all this every day?” He’s stopped in front of Third, who is working on something in the cave. Khai wipes sweat from his brow and picks at his clothes. They’re the same clothes he’s been wearing and Khai is feeling pretty nasty after a few hours of chores. He assumes it’s been a few hours, at least. He feels tired enough.
Third points to a chair, and Khai takes a seat, finds that there’s another coconut shell on a little table beside him. “It’s fresh water,” Third says. “Drink.”
The thought of Third being a murderer flicks through Khai’s head once more, but there’s no point in resisting his thirst, so he grabs the makeshift cup and drinks deeply.
“You can take a break,” Third allows. “Did you gather wood for the stove?”
Khai nods. It’s mostly just driftwood, but Third had told him that was okay.
“Why don’t you go wash up?” Third says. “There’s a lagoon just over the ridge. It’s where I normally bathe.”
Khai is too tired to think about Third bathing, although his libido gives a half-hearted thump of interest. “Mh.” He pushes himself up to shuffle that way, but Third calls him back.
Handing over a cloth, Third says, “You can use this to dry off. And there’s some soap over there.”
It’s more than Khai expects, although far less than he’s used to, and he treks over to the lagoon to do exactly as Third said. The water looks clear and feels warm when he bends down to wave his fingers through it.
After he’s stripped down to nothing, Khai realizes just how nice it is to step in and let himself soak. He finds the soap and scrubs himself, and, finally, relaxed, imagines Third naked doing the same. Khai has enough decency not to jerk it in the bathing lagoon—at least not yet—even though he remembers that tanned skin from the morning and wonders if Third had come out here early. He hadn’t thought about it earlier, but Third smells nice.
Maybe it’s this soap?
Khai gives it a sniff, but it doesn’t have quite the smell Third does. It must be part of it, but… Khai’s never been great at details.
There’s no use pondering anyway, so Khai cleans himself and wades back towards the towel Third had given him. There’s a slope to the bottom of the lagoon and it’s a little deeper over here, but Khai doesn’t want to move elsewhere to get out. Besides, he’s a man, and thus he makes a valiant attempt to hoist himself out only for his hand to slip.
Alarm bells of pain screech in his head and he falls back, clasping his wrist. Already, blood is streaming down his arm and into the water from the laceration in his hand, where he must’ve met some jagged rock’s edge.
Khai doesn’t know what to do, but he manages to find a better place to get up and out, then to haphazardly wrap the towel around himself, belatedly realizing that he’s covering everything with blood.
Staggering back to the cave, Khai suddenly feels embarrassed, like a child who got hurt being careless, but he wants the attention, too. “Third?” he calls, sounding pathetic even to his own ears.
“What is—” Third’s words stop as Khai comes into view. “You’re bleeding. Hold on.”
Although panicked, Third starts washing and wrapping Khai’s wound, while Khai stares at Third in wonder.