Drabble prompt "Do you...well...I mean...I could give you a massage?"
"Lucien….Lucien?" Jean enters the surgery to find the man she seeks lying on the floor of the surgery. "What are you doing?"
"Aaah Jean. I dropped my pen." He raises his hand in the air, waving the said item.
"Well get up. Dinner is almost ready." She turns back towards the kitchen
"Right." He moans.
Jean dishes up bowls of stew giving Charlie and Matthew theirs. first. "You might as well eat. I don't know what is keeping him."
She heads down the hall to find what is keeping Lucien from sitting at her table. She is mumbling under her breath, frustration seeping out of her. She halts on the threshold of the surgery. "Why are you still on the floor?"
"My back. I think I pulled something when I was helping you in the garden."
"And now you can't get up?"
"Well, I...If I just…" he tries to roll over, wincing at each move that he attempts. He looks up at his love standing over him, hands on her hips waiting for the words. "Help."
She gingerly guides him on to his knees, supporting his shoulder as he slowly gets to his feet. She takes the brunt of his weight with ease. "Let's get you into bed." They slowly shuffle across the hall to his bedroom.
She guides him down onto the edge of his bed. "Thank you Jean. I'll be fine."
"Do you…"she twists her hands nervously, "well...I mean...I could give you a massage?" Adding quickly, "If you think it would help that is?"
Lucien's eyes sparkle, his pupils wide, betray the longing in him. "I think that a massage would help very much."
"Right." Jean closes his bedroom door, takes a deep breath before turning to him. She watches as he unbuttons his shirt, teeth clenching in pain when he tries to take his arms out of the sleeves. "Let me."
He shivers at her touch. Her hands slide over his shoulders, guiding the fabric down his arms. He looks up at her face. He can't help but smile at the look of concentration that she wears. He goes to wrap a hand around her waist, to pull her closer. His muscles cramp in response. "Bloody hell!"
"Hold still." She untucks his singlet carefully removing it as if she was undressing a sleeping child. Only this man in front of her is far from being a child. His arms, shoulders, neck are strong, muscular in a way that makes her stomach flip knowing that he is hers. "Try and stand so that I can turn down the bed."
He does as he is told, undoing his belt allowing his pants to drop to the floor. "Jean, I'll just put those on." He reaches for the pajama pants she holds.
He struggles, a few choice words and with Jean's help manages to get the pajama pants on. "Lay down. Be careful." She looks down on him, his back towards the ceiling. Him waiting for her hands to relieve his pain.
Jean toes off her shoes and takes a deep breath. The bed dips under her added weight. She can feel his pulse racing under her touch. His skin feels like fire on her fingertips. She traces the scars that she had seen when he revealed the root of his nightmares to her. That night she placed a kiss at the center of his back and wept for his tortured past. This time she places a kiss in the same spot but there are not tears, only a longing of what is to come.
Her well manicured fingers begin rubbing deeper into the muscles between his shoulders. "Here?"
"Mmm, lower." He groans, her fingers trailing down his spine.
"Here?" He nods and moans at the relief.
Jean's own back starts to twinge at the awkward angle that she is sitting in. She shifts more on to the bed, pulls her skirt up so that she is able to straddle herself across his behind.
"Jean?" He moans into his pillow, her hands working deeper into his muscles, moving lower to work out the tension.
"Shush. I can feel where your muscles are knotted up. I just need the right angle to work it out."
Her hands strong from years of kneading dough, work magic on Lucien's back. Soon the pain subsides but a new discomfort begins to fill his thoughts as his body starts reacting to Jean's touch. "Darling." He shifts under her, "I think I'm good now." He says tentatively.
"Really? Well then…" a hint of disappointment in her tone. She slides off of him and the bed, straightening her skirt. Her cheeks hold a blush that wasn't previously there. "Dinner should still be warm. You coming?'
Lucien remains on his stomach, "I'll be along soon."
"Do you want me to help you up?"
"No, no! You have helped enough." The scarlet in his cheeks, the awkward way he is laying on the bed causes the blush in her cheeks to darken at the realization of his predicament.
"Right then." She makes her way to the door, turning before she opens it. "You know Lucien. I am here to help you whenever you need me." There is a wickedness in her grin as she walks out of the room.