Open RP Post

[greatdeliverer]

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[greatdeliverer]

"I'd let you. Might be a little jumpy at first, but I'd let you."

Sam stares at the remote for a long moment, looking from it to the television. "Um. This isn't really a thing, where I come from. I mean some people still have them, but I haven't used one since I was a kid."

[braveoff]

"No?" Drake lifts the remote to show Daryl which buttons to press. "Welcome to flipping channels, then. It'll show the program that's on at the bottom of the screen every time."

[greatdeliverer]

"I'll let you go for it," he says, handing the remote back. "I'm okay with whatever, really. It's just background noise, right?"

[braveoff]

"Okay. Lion cubs it is." He smiles disarmingly, putting the remote down and offering Sam his hand. "You can let go whenever you want, just remember that."

[greatdeliverer]

"I'm uh. I'm not used to this. I get talked at, a lot. No one ever asks. No one really listens."

[braveoff]

"That makes them bad conversationalists, then. It takes two people, talking and listening."

He doesn't rush Sam into taking his hand, just keeps holding it out in offering. Letting the other man get used to the idea.

"We can talk about whatever you want."

[greatdeliverer]

Sam hesitates, trying to decide what to do with the offered hand. Finally, he says, "Touch me on the arm, first. I don't want a rash on the palm of my hand."

[braveoff]

Drake nods his understanding, then gently settles his hand on Sam's forearm and keeps talking, trying to have him focus on that.

"So it only happens wherever you're touched?"

[greatdeliverer]

He flinches away at first, but manages to settle a little, still tense. "Yeah. I get a rash wherever the other person touches me."

A handprint shaped red mark starts to form on his forearm where Drake's hand is. He holds still as long as he can before he pulls his arm away, frowning at the rash. "It was starting to itch."

[braveoff]

"It's okay. We're going slow." He looks at the mark, curious. "Is it as bad if it's through clothes?"

[greatdeliverer]

"Not quite as bad. Still leaves a mark, though." Sam scratches around the edges of the rash, frowning faintly. Hopefully Drake is as patient as he claims to be.

[braveoff]

Hmm. That makes hitting quota a lot harder than Drake had anticipated, yeah. He considers the problem for a moment, then asks, "How long does it take to go away?"

[greatdeliverer]

"Depends on how long the touch was. Could be a few minutes, could be a few hours." He turns his arm back and forth, looking at the gradually fading handprint on it. It's at least gone from an angry red to a few shades lighter.

[braveoff]

"Okay. Let's give it a minute to chill out, and try over clothes? I'm curious if it's worse when you're tense, too."

[greatdeliverer]

"Well that sucks cuz I'm always tense." He finishes off his beer, though, which does help a little. "You can try on my shoulder, I guess." Where the sleeve of his tanktop is.

[braveoff]

"I mean, I could try to help with that. If you don't mind it maybe being on your back." He's a pretty good masseuse, by all accounts.

[greatdeliverer]

"I've had worse things on my back." Sam glances at him sideways, rubbing at one of the scars from his pack on his shoulder.

[braveoff]

"Okay. At least it won't hurt, right?" He offers a disarming smile. "Turn around."

[greatdeliverer]

"Fuck. Okay." He turns around and tries to take a few deep breaths to calm himself back down. To try and untense as much as possible.

"I'll let you know if I start feeling myself break out."

[braveoff]

"Yeah, I'll stop whenever you tell me to. Always."

That shouldn't be a concern in this -- it's at Sam's pace. But he does turn his back, and Drake gives him a moment to compose himself before settling his hands on the other man's shoulders and trying to work some of the tension out. He is actually good at this, and learned on soldiers after workouts and battle, when they were at their tensest and sorest. True to his word, it doesn't hurt.

[greatdeliverer]

"That feels... pretty okay." He's not breaking out just yet, and god, his muscles needed it. Carrying that pack day after day twists up all the muscles in his back and shoulders, and it feels amazing to have them worked out.

[braveoff]

"I'll take it," Drake replies, and Sam can hear the smile in his voice. That's all he's really hoping for from this -- that the eventual reaction is still worth it for being unwound a bit. He keeps working, staying carefully over Sam's shirt.

[greatdeliverer]

It takes longer than Sam would have thought. A lot longer than skin on skin contact. Eventually, Sam's not sure how long since he's a bit lost in the massage, he starts to feel that itch creep up his back.

"Okay, starting to feel it. But it was -- fine. It was good. Up until just now."

[braveoff]

Yup, Drake knew that would happen. There was no way he'd be completely alright with just their second attempt, but it's very promising. He lifts his hands gently and says, "That was fifteen minutes, Sam."

[greatdeliverer]

"Fifteen? You're fucking me." The only bad part to this is now his back itches a bit. But at least the handprint on his arm has gone almost completely away.