#57 - Comfort

Segment Notes: The main problem was actually a real-life incident. Out of frustration I wrote this but then decided it was too weird to post. I've been waffling on it since October. I moved things around a lot and added more, and now it's still weird, but it's so cute I decided to finally post it anyway.

For a long time, Radley had wanted to turn the unfinished basement into rooms. He hadn't felt he needed two floors when he lived alone, but with Kalin there too, more room was really desired, especially a second bathroom. During a stretch of time that remained peaceful, they decided to actually go ahead with the project.

Fixing the basement into a livable space, however, was not an easy task. The basement was stubborn and seemed to not particularly want to be fixed, or that was what Radley sardonically commented after an attempt to put up a new wall resulted in the wall flopping over instead. Many times the Bunch and other townspeople came to help with plumbing and fixtures and other necessities. Many other times, Kalin and Radley were up late working on painting or carpeting or deciding what kind of rooms they wanted down there besides another bathroom.

It was a difficult task overall, but when at last things began to take shape, they grew more excited. They would have a game room with a pool table and tabletop basketball and other things they and the Bunch enjoyed. And there would be two guest rooms for when friends wanted to stay over. The bathroom would be large and luxurious. All the work would be worth it when all was said and done.

As the project neared completion some time later, Kalin and Radley worked together to take the new furniture down. Some days it was easy. Other days, it was not. The desk for one of the guest rooms was being particularly stubborn, as was the garage door leading into the house at the halfway landing of the basement stairs. First the door started to swing shut when they tried to bring the desk through. When they managed to get the desk onto the landing, it got stuck between the open door and the opposite wall.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake," Radley said in exasperation.

"Here, I'll swing the desk to the left," Kalin said. "You can take it up the steps to the kitchen. Then we can push the door back and get it down the steps."

But that didn't work as planned either. When Radley moved to shut the door, as he was the only one who could reach it, the heavy desk slipped, the door got stuck again, and Radley fell backwards to sit down hard on the steps when everything shifted.

"Ow," he hissed.

Kalin looked over the other edge of the desk. "Are you alright?!" he demanded.

"Yeah," Radley said, and managed a weak smile. He got up. "Come on, let's try again and see if we can't get this thing downstairs."

At last everything cooperated and they continued to work until it was time for dinner and rest. But Kalin definitely took note that Radley seemed to be in more and more discomfort as the hours wore on. When he leaned back on the couch and immediately grimaced, Kalin couldn't stay silent any longer.

"Radley, you did get hurt, didn't you?" he demanded.

Radley shook his head. "It's nothing. Really." But he sat up straight and tried to rub at his backside.

"You're hurt," Kalin said flatly. He had never seen his dignified friend do that before. He doubted he would be seeing it at all if they weren't alone. No matter how much it hurt, Radley would keep trying to hide it around anyone else.

". . . It feels like a bruise, but it's not even discolored," Radley said. He sighed. "But when it hurts as much as this, that'll probably come later. Well, it's not like anyone will be seeing that anyway. You're the only person who's ever seen me in the nude and that was only because I fell in the bathtub . . . twice."

"Radley . . ." Kalin didn't look amused by Radley's attempt to make light of it.

Radley laughed. "If it had happened when Malcolm was around, he would have made some rude remarks and I would have laughed it off, but . . . it really is mortifying to be hurt in this spot." He went red.

"You don't think I'd make cracks about it, do you?" Kalin frowned.

"No," Radley said. "But I'm still embarrassed anyway."

"I'm sure if this happened to any of the Bunch, you'd tell them it's nothing to be embarrassed about," Kalin said.

"Yeah, I would," Radley said. "I did, actually. Scotch had a bad fall from his motorcycle once and I had to give him that kind of encouragement. That poor guy was so embarrassed. I think that hurt him worse than the pain. But . . . I should be more graceful than I was today."

"It was cramped and nothing was behaving," Kalin said. "The door was stuck and then the desk was stuck. Of course you'd fall. I almost fell too. You're lucky you didn't get hurt worse!"

"I guess." Radley shifted position to his left side. "You really don't think it's funny, huh?"

"Not when you're in pain." Kalin drew him close.

"I'm glad," Radley said softly.

". . . The truth is, when I was in the Enforcers, I probably would have made some insensitive cracks," Kalin said. "I was boisterous and didn't think much about people's feelings."

"I thought that was Jack," Radley quipped.

"He might be blunt, and rude in that way, but he never really joked," Kalin said. "I was the type to make inappropriate jokes. Yusei and Crow didn't like that. And then of course I got far worse as a Dark Signer." He looked tired. "But I'm not that person anymore. And you mean everything to me. I used to think it was okay to say anything I wanted to joke with my friends, but now I know that's not true. I'm not going to disrespect you by joking about your body or anything else you're not comfortable with."

"Thanks," Radley smiled. "That means a lot. A lot of people don't feel that way. That's a lot of why it's embarrassing to have this kind of fall."

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," Kalin insisted.

"Oh? And what if it happened to you?" Radley countered.

". . . I'd be embarrassed," Kalin grudgingly admitted.

Radley chuckled softly. "A lot of it's probably also because of modern culture. If I said I bruised my arm, that wouldn't be embarrassing at all, but people rarely ever even seem to talk about this part of the body in a respectful way. A lot of the colloquial terms are rude, or just plain stupid, and the way it's used in popular culture is too."

". . . I guess you're right," Kalin said. "I never thought about it much."

"Some of the Bunch uses some of those terms and thinks nothing of it, but they don't if they're talking about me or you since they know I don't like it to even be brought up about me . . . or you," Radley said wryly. "I know it's probably archaic these days, but I was raised to treat all parts of the body respectfully. It's one of the only things my family taught me that I still agree with. Of course, different people have different ideas on what is and isn't respectful and I have a low tolerance threshold that's unusual these days." He gave a dark smirk. "If I ever use one of the rude terms to describe someone's bottom, you can be pretty sure I don't like or respect the person I'm talking about."

Kalin smirked too. "Being respectful is a good rule of thumb," he said. "I didn't always follow it, I'm ashamed to say. I used to have quite a mouth on me."

"But you say you're different now," Radley mused.

Kalin drew him close in a hug. "After everything I've been through, and caused, and losing or almost losing loved ones, there's very little that's more sacred to me than those loved ones and everything about them. I care about you too much to ever want to disrespect any part of you. Everything about you is special and deserving of respect."

Deeply moved, Radley hugged him close. "Kalin . . ."

Kalin smiled.

xxxx

The Bunch was always very skilled with riding their motorcycles. They had to be, of course, to properly present themselves to the town as a motorcycle gang. But even they could have an accident or two.

Radley was alarmed when one day he witnessed Scotch striking a rock in the dirt road. The boy flew off his motorcycle, crashing down hard on the ground on his back before falling and rolling several times down a small hill in back of the diner. He sat up and slumped forward in mortification, removing his helmet. His shock of blond hair came loose and fell over his right eye.

Radley was already running over to him in horror. "Scotch! Are you okay?!"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Scotch mumbled. But he kept sitting there, and Radley could see his arms looked scraped and sore.

"I thought maybe you'd be paralyzed after that first hit," Radley said.

"I can move okay," Scotch said. "I just feel stupid."

"You're not stupid. You need some help," Radley said. "Come on, I'll fix that up for you." He reached to help Scotch stand.

Scotch just kept sitting there. "Thanks, Radley, but it's okay. I'm okay."

Radley folded his arms. "You either got more hurt than you want to let on or you're just embarrassed. Which is it?"

Scotch scowled, but nothing would make him snap at Radley. "I'm embarrassed," he insisted. "That was a dumb fall."

"You weren't doing anything wrong. You just didn't see that rock," Radley said. "And it came up too fast for me to call a warning to you. I feel horrible about it. If you'd been hurt worse. . . ."

"I'm okay!" Scotch insisted.

"Scotch, if you're really not hurt, please let me help you up." Radley held out a hand again.

Scotch finally took it and stumbled up, falling forward against Radley. "Ow," he hissed. He attempted to straighten, but whimpered and slumped harder against Radley instead.

"Scotch, you are hurt," Radley frowned. "Where? Is it your back? Your legs?"

"No." Scotch buried his face into Radley's shoulder.

Radley frowned more, taking in Scotch's position and his acute humiliation. ". . . Your bottom?"

Scotch's shoulders slumped. "Yeah. . . . I hit hard when I first fell, and then again when I stopped rolling. It's just so stupid!"

"No, it's not," Radley said. "You can be hurt there just like anywhere else. Soldiers have got shot there."

"And they probably get made fun of," Scotch said bitterly. "I'll get made fun of. People laugh if you fall there. It's not taken seriously."

"That's what's stupid," Radley said. "Yeah, you're right about some people, unfortunately, but it's just you and me here and I'm not laughing. This is serious! Scotch, you can't even stand up straight!"

"Yeah, I can!" Scotch promptly tried to do so and choked back a pained cry.

Radley sighed. "We need to know how bad it is. . . ."

"I'll look when I go inside," Scotch said.

"You can't see well enough back there," Radley retorted. "I know you might not want me looking, but somebody besides you needs to in order to evaluate it better. It's either me or the doctor."

"You," Scotch immediately replied.

"Okay," Radley said. "Let's go inside." He put an arm around Scotch's shoulders and guided him into the diner. Scotch leaned against him, limping all the way and clearly in pain.

When they were safely in the bathroom attached to the lounge, Scotch slowly undid his pants and allowed Radley to inspect the damage. Radley winced when he saw. "Oh ouch. That's some really bad bruising. That's going to hurt for a while."

"Great." Scotch scowled. "I don't think I can even sit down!"

"Hopefully it'll ease up soon, maybe in a few hours, maybe tomorrow or the next day," Radley said. "You just take it easy until then. I'll get you some ice too."

"Thanks," Scotch said softly. He pulled his underwear and his pants back up. "The guys will probably laugh. . . ."

"They won't laugh," Radley insisted. "Malcolm's Crew might, but not our guys."

"I hope not," Scotch mumbled.

"Hey, after all the time we've known each other, you trust them, right?" Radley said.

"Yeah . . . but I've never heard anyone except you talk about it like you did," Scotch said. "Most people laugh, even if they don't mean to be a jerk about it. They just think anything happening there is a scream."

"That's so immature," Radley said. "Getting hurt there hurts just as much as anywhere else. Sometimes more."

Scotch turned and hugged him close.

xxxx

It was in the middle of the night when Radley awoke feeling the pain more acutely. He grimaced and tried to get up, but sank back into the bed. It would take him a while to figure out how to move with the least amount of pain.

"Radley?" Kalin mumbled. "What is it?"

"It's nothing," Radley said. "Go back to sleep." He pushed himself up and started to attempt getting off the bed, but he fell forward into the pillows when the pain got stronger again.

Kalin sat up. "Do you need an ice pack?" he frowned.

". . . Yeah, that would be great," Radley said, conceding defeat. He had been trying to get up to make one for himself, but it didn't look like that was going to happen very soon.

Kalin got off the bed. "I'll be right back." He went to the kitchen and soon came the sound of the fridge's ice maker. In a few minutes he returned and gently laid the ice pack on the spot where Radley kept rubbing.

"Thanks," Radley said in relief. The pain soon eased and he relaxed into the bed.

Satisfied, Kalin got back in as well. ". . . Are you going to tell the Bunch what happened?"

". . . If I can't hide it," Radley said wryly. "That incident I was talking about with Scotch? He sure wished he could hide it, but for a few hours there he was even having trouble standing up. I let him rest in the lounge."

"What happened when the others found out?" Kalin asked.

"They were worried when they came and found him feeling so miserable," Radley said. "They didn't laugh. Unfortunately, somehow one of Malcolm's idiot stooges found out about it and they started making cracks at the dusk duel that night, especially when Scotch wasn't there. They were even crueler the next night, when Scotch did made it out."

"How did you handle it?" Kalin wondered.

"I told them they were acting like five-year-olds," Radley said. "Then I said no, that wasn't fair to the five-year-olds. Five-year-olds would be ashamed of them."

Kalin smirked a bit. Radley always had a sharp wit. ". . . The Bunch didn't laugh at Scotch, though," he said. "But you're reluctant to tell them."

"I don't like to tell them about any injuries I get," Radley said. "Come on, I kept it a secret that I'd been slashed in the arm by a sword! Why would I tell them that I fell down moving furniture and bruised myself?"

". . . That's logical," Kalin admitted.

"I don't want them to worry about me," Radley said softly. "I don't want you to, either. I would have also kept it from you if I could."

"I'm sorry you were hurt too badly to keep it secret," Kalin said. "But I'm not sorry I know."

". . . I'm not sorry either," Radley mused. "It was embarrassing, but . . . you've been really good about it and that means a lot. It's kind of weird to be the one needing help, though, after I looked after Scotch in the past."

"I guess everyone's the victim sometimes," Kalin said. "I've been hurt too, although not like this."

"This isn't anywhere as bad as Scotch, though," Radley said. "He fell off a fast-moving vehicle. I just fell backwards while standing and hit a carpeted stair. Honestly, I have no idea why it's hurting so much for me."

"Who knows," Kalin grunted.

"It's just one of those things, I guess," Radley said. "I'll probably feel better in the morning."

". . . Did a doctor look at Scotch?" Kalin asked.

"I did," Radley said. "I wanted to make sure it wasn't worse than bruising, under the circumstances. You know, he really could have been seriously hurt at the speed he was going."

"He's definitely lucky it wasn't worse," Kalin said. He hesitated. "If you're not feeling better in the morning, maybe I should look. . . ."

Radley gave him a playful smirk. "Oh?" But he sobered just as quickly. "Thanks, Kalin. I'm sure I'll be fine, but I guess we'll see."

They soon dozed, and Kalin held his precious friend to his heart until morning. And to their shared relief, Radley did feel better by then.