Page 15 of Where the River Meets the Skye

River just rolled his eyes like he always did any time Skye made a dick joke. “Just help me up and hand me my crutches, please?”

So Skye did. “Are you going to need help once you get in there?” he asked as River slowly made his way through his bedroom to the attached master bath, letting out little grunts of pain as he went.

“No,” he growled.

Skye was grinning a second later when he heard River calling his name with a resigned sigh.

“Yes?” he said, peeking his head into the bathroom and grinning slightly at the sight of River standing in front of the toilet. He had one hand on the wall and the other braced on the counter. He’d managed to get his crutches up against the wall at least but not being able to put any weight on his ankle or bend at all without being in pain was causing him problems. He glared at the toilet, as though it was somehow to blame. “Do you need help?” Skye asked with a grin.

He couldn’t help chortling when River gave him his best bitch face. “Shut up and get over here,” he retorted, a flush creeping up his cheeks. “I need help with my pants. It hurts my ribs too much and I don’t have enough balance.” His cheeks were flaming now and Skye bit his lip. He did feel sorry for his friend, but the fact that he was so flustered was kind of endearing.

“I’m gonna need your help getting them back on, too,” River told him. Skye tried to spare him some dignity, as much as one can when they’re taking their friend’s pants off so they can piss, and just did his best not to make a big deal out of it. He reached his hands around River’s slender hips and tugged the pants down and off, until they slid down River’s legs and were draped over his one broken ankle that was still suspended in the air, and his other ankle resting on the floor.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Skye told him, and walked back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

“Okay,” River called a moment later, and Skye poked his head back in, before making his way over to him. He carefully pulled River’s pants back up and then handed him his crutches.

“Thank you,” River mumbled, not meeting Skye’s gaze. A flush crept up his face yet again. “I think I should change into pants with an open fly so that you don’t have to help me do that ever again.”

Skye couldn’t help laughing. “What if you have to take a shit?”

“I’ll hold it.”

“For six weeks?”

“Yep.”

“You do that and we’re gonna have a whole new set of problems.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

Skye chuckled again. “Okay. Pajamas?”

River nodded.

“Which drawer?”

“Second.”

“Do you care which ones?” he asked, rummaging through River’s dresser as his roommate made his way back into the bedroom on his crutches.

“No.” He winced, and Skye could tell it was taking every last ounce of his energy to stay upright. Moving around at all looked excruciating. Just bending over to use the crutches so he could keep the weight off of his ankle looked like it was making him miserable.

“Okay, let’s get this done so you can get some sleep,” he said, then pondered as he walked over to his friend. “How are we gonna do this if you can’t put weight on your ankle?” He rested his hands on his hips and bit his lip. River just stood there, eyeing him.

“I have an idea. You’re not going to like it, but roll with it.”

“Okay,” River said, skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

“Give me your crutches.” Skye held out his hands.

“And what am I going to hold on to?” River asked, his eyebrow raising even further.

“Me,” Skye told him. “Just for a second.”

River hesitated, but then handed one crutch to Skye and steadied himself against the wall with one hand as Skye tossed the crutch onto the far end of the bed. Then Skye reached for the other crutch as he wrapped his arm around River’s waist, supporting him.

“Skye, what the . . .?” River started.

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