Oily in the mornin'

Someone was doing something to his legs. “Rrff...”
He tried to work it out, but he felt like he’d either smacked his head or… Oh shit, what had he taken this time?
“I’ sorry” he muttered, offering the obligatory apology to whoever his antics might’ve peed off… Whether brother, dad, wife, crew… whoever was… rubbing… what felt like oil… into his apparently bare legs.
“WHu!? What you doin’!?” He batted the unknown hand away.
His sudden lucidity alarmed whoever was doing the rubbing, so that they ducked out of sight behind an ornate fabric screen. Baffled and… vulnerable… Alex pulled whatever he was lying on– felt like Egyptian cotton sheets – around himself and sat up.

He was in a tent - a nice, cool, tent - and he was in his boxers.
He let out a low grumbled sigh - finding himself in only his boxers on away missions was becoming a bit of a habit. He snatched a quick peek… Well, at least these ones weren’t his emergency pair, adorned with snowmen a la 12 year old, these were proper adult boxer-briefs. Surely stripes wouldn’t offend anyo-

There was a little shuffling noise from behind the screen, drawing his thoughts back to the matter at hand.
“Where are my trousers?” He grumped.

Another shuffle, and a pair of stunning, kohl-rimmed brown eyes, peered shyly around the screen. They were topped by a head of tumbling dark hair. He-llo! Perhaps he didn’t mind the rubbing after all…
“Who’re you?” He croaked, not sure where he was, when he was, or who he was supposed to be here with.
The eyes blinked, all long dark lashes. “Djedefhor” came the gentle, smooth reply.
Despite his confusion, Alex felt his lip twitch into a partial smile. “Jennifer?”
The oiler emerged from behind the screen. “Um, no, master, Djedefhor.”
Alex tilted his head and stared in surprise at the slinky figure now standing before him. Slender of torso and limb, caramel-skinned, clad in cool white cotton. The long dark hair, the kohl eyes…
“You’re a boy.” He stated, quietly astonished.
Djedefhor frowned, confused. “Yes. Of course” he confirmed, in his gentle voice and exotic accent. He approached and bowed his head. “Please accept my apologies for halting the oiling, holy master, I was startled.”

There were so many things to be shocked about right about then, that Alex didn’t know which to deal with first.
After weighing up several options, he simply found himself mumbling “trousers”.

“They are being cleansed, master. Would you like me to finish oiling you now?”
The dark-haired exotic one ran his fingers almost seductively over Alex’s chest. Solvay caught his wrist in a firm grip and slid his eyes to meet the young man’s. “Why do you keep calling me ‘Master’? Who are you?”
“I am your servant Djedefhor. I am twenty six years old. I am of the household Nebwawi, and I must oil you now, so that you are in the right state for your liquids to be drawn.”
“You want to… Draw my liquids?”
The boy-beauty nodded, still a touch nervous. “Yes, we must extract your liquids so that we may discover your Godly secrets.”
“Say what, now?”
“We would like to extract some of the magic which makes you a God.”
“A… What?”
First a giant gerbil thinks I’m the angel Gabriel, now apparently I’m a God. There are some very confused people out here…
He looked into the boy’s attractive eyes, finding that he was currently feeling quite confused himself. He cleared his throat.
“A god of course!” Beamed the servant. “Now, if you don’t mind, I must continue the lubrication” he insisted.
“Lubrication…” Muttered Solvay.
He realised he was still holding the younger man’s wrist and let it go.

“And now, I rub…”
Alex glanced around the tent. “Not sure you should.” He murmured. “What if the others…” whoever the smeg they might be “… walk in to find me undressed, with another man’s thumbs all over my nipples!?”
Djedefhor laughed lightly – a not unpleasant sound. “It is not normal practice for men to touch one another in such a fashion in your land?”
Alex thought about this for a moment.
“Well... Yeah, it is. For some. But-”
Djedefhor raised his perfectly formed eyebrows. “But?”
“Well…” Solvay floundered. “We’re a bit… Shy…” was shy the right word? “… about the whole thing.”
“Anyway,” he added with a little nod “I’m heterosexual.”
Stating it simply like this was easier, and more private, than explaining things like the fact that for a short while he’d genuinely wondered if he was robosexual before realising that he couldn’t be, because he liked real human skin wa-ay too much.

Djedefhor rolled the word around in his mouth for a while before realising what it meant. When he worked it out, he laughed again, heartily this time. “Oho! It is so quaint that you believe in people having a fixed sexuality. You really are an ancient God!” He began to rub oil into Alex’s shoulders. It was not altogether unpleasant.
Alex frowned. “I am not ancient.”
“Mm hmm.”
Alex felt himself relaxing in the other man’s expert hands.
“You know, that’s… pretty good.” He mumbled.

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10 minutes later

An oil-shimmering Alex, wrapped only in a sheet and his undercrackers, bolted across the sandy clearing between tents.
A particularly attractive young man emerged from the tent he’d appeared from. “Master! I am sorry! What have I done to offend you?”
Alex slowed a little. “When you said ‘draw my liquids’” he barked over his shoulder. “I thought you meant some sort of blood thing, not…” He stopped, now he was a ‘safe’ distance away from Djedefhor. “… Not what you tried to do.”
“But I did silly master! Do not worry!”
“Then what the hell were you... up to?” Alex gestured to his crotch area.
“Oh!” Djedefor smiled happily. “That was only to relax you beforehand…”

Alex’s face contorted into a one-high-eyebrowed, bug-eyed expression of bewilderment.

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<tag everyone – what is going on in your tent (or wherever you’ve found yourself)?>