Love is a polaroid.

            Well, technically Nirova had stayed at the inn.

      For about a minute. Long enough to let Kyrn think he won that particular dispute, but not much else. Then it took another few for him to tail his ass, but it was pretty easy considering that he knew where Kyrn was going. 

           Since Niro refused to sit outside when Kyrn got the job, that’s to be expected. Maybe the way he stomped up to the other with no regard to stealth was to be expected, too. The Dunmer either doing it out of spite or because he didn’t give a damn.

      “And I thought I told you,” he says, volume management still utterly disregarded, “I’m not staying at no damn inn.” 

           he wonders if he could get away with murdering a brawler, and break into this house without making too much noise.                       naturally, though, with how Nirova seems to have no care for the use of silence, which might cost Kyrn both the job and earn him a night in a cell, he assumes it’d be more trouble than it’s worth.

                                            ❝keep this noise up, and you’ll be staying in a guard’s cell.❞            the altmer humours a thought.                                             ❝—do you think a guardsman would let me walk if i turned you in for disrupting the peace?❞

Don’t kick dirt into the fire out of spite, don’t kick dirt into the fire out of spite, don’t —

      "I mean, you can put it out if you want.“ Nirova props an elbow up on his knee, and stares at him mildly. That’s probably the most restraint he’s shown the entire evening— well, beyond not punching Kyrn in the gut at every possible juncture.

Or maybe that’s just manners, he doesn’t fucking know.

      Conflicting emotions rise almost simultaneously- victory over getting this bastard to fucking emote at all- and. Well, the proper response to being told to go get eaten by a dragon. Niro’s not quite sure what his expression was doing, but he manages to wrestle it into something more smug.

Two can play at that game, asshole.

      "Y'know—” Niro drums his fingers in faux thought, “dragons are pretty fucking frequent around you. If you want me to get eaten that badly, well—”

Might as well mark it as an official invitation in his book. Just, you know, until he gets his rematch. Nirova tries to convey the entirety of that thought into the tilt of his eyebrow.

      Then—"What the fuck.“ He reels back, as if proximity will suddenly make Kyrn's— and technically his own, what the fuck— disappear. "That’s not what I- you know I didn’t- what the fuck.”

Even if you asked him, Niro couldn’t tell you if he was more offended over the notion of him ever even considering Kyrn or. Or. Nevermind. Fuck off.

Kyrn stares at him over the fire’s flames, realising that if there’s one thing he gives this annoying brawler, it’s his fierceness. He’s not sure how exactly he feels about it, but he does know the attitude is getting a little old. It was funny at first, now it’s childish.

      “Now, now,             I have a dinner to cook.                   One I’m not sharing.”

Speaking of, he’s finished separating the goat, and now he’s able to actually put it over the fire so it would cook. What he doesn’t eat, he can feed to the wolves, or sell at the nearest town. Either one is good, so long as it doesn’t go to waste. Even if it does, he doesn’t necessarily care.

Eyes are once again narrowed, suspicious. He feels like he knows what he’s saying, but Kyrn doesn’t believe Niro would be that daft. He’s already said he doesn’t take townsfolk, and, no matter how much he says he’s not, that’s exactly what the brawler is.

The eyebrows confirm it, and the Dovahkiin is more than a tad irritated now. 

      “I’ll repeat my earlier answer to you,             I don’t take in townsfolk.                   I’m not your nursemaid.”

Another change of expression, this time it’s his turn to be smug, evident in the curl of his mouth and the mirth in his eyes. Kyrn leans in as Niro leans back, speaking lowly over the light of the fire.

Maybe if he punches him hard enough he can knock out all his teeth. Or, blessed with a sudden affinity for magic, he could seal the bastard’s mouth shut. Niro prays that he can do both. After the rematch. That he is absolutely fucking getting.

      “You really think you’re tough shit, don’t you?” And his tone would almost be wondering- marvelling, even- if not for the harshness in which Nirova speaks it. “Here’s a stunning fable for you, oh great Dovahkiin- fuck off.”

A barely there pause for breath, resentment too close on his heels to allow him much else. “If you’re the bastard who’s supposed to be the Dragonborn, the world is fucking screwed.” 

      And- it’s out there. Nirova huffs, leans back and just. Stares. At Kyrn, then the fire and the weird ass meat still sitting there. Something stills his tongue after the announcement- nothing quite like regret, more wondering if he just drove this further away from a rematch or not.

Speaking of which: “Damn fucking straight I am. A cheater broke my fucking record, no one else matters.”

The irony of the situation hits him, then. He’s the fucking Dovahkiin, and here he is, arguing with a brawler like he has time for this. (He’s not sure how much time he has, actually. It doesn’t seem like he’s in much of a rush or a hurry. Well, the world hasn’t ended yet, so he must be doing something right.)

      “You’re at my fire, telling me to fuck off—             I don’t think you have that right.”

And, there it is. Out in the open. The whole saviour of the world thing. Kyrn narrows his eyes, the gold even more intense in the firelight. He’s offended by the notion that because it’s him, the world’s fucked, and is contemplating Shouting Niro off the side of the cliff, dinner be damned.

      “Maybe I’ll wait until you get killed by a dragon,             To actually start saving the world.”

His tone has dropped, the natural baritone lowering even further in restrained irritation. He is not worth his anger, but the Shout wants to claw it’s way out of his throat, regardless—

Only it’s stopped short at a chance to get back at him.

There’s a simple, thoughtless moment when Kyrn’s shitty god damned words don’t register right away. Such a blessed time, gone too soon. Now Nirova has to take a tree and break it over his knee. 

       “I’m not a fucking ‘townsfolk’,” spoken in a high, broken imitation of the Dragonborn’s voice, “you can’t boss me around like I’m a shitty ass lackey ready to fall at your fuckin’ feet.” 

It’ll take a lot more to deter Niro, though, goat eating is certainly a fucking irritant. So is Kyrn’s face- gods above he’s so glad he got a nice punch in before the asshole decided to cheat. The thought drags animosity roaring back up, and Niro stomps forward before he can even give himself a chance to second guess it. 

       “Motherfucker, the first thing I do to you is challenge you to a brawl-” and he’s up in his face suddenly, when did that happen, “in the middle of the fucking woods, and you think I need a goddamn inn?! That I need a glorified nursemaid to wipe my ass?”

Another blank moment, then Nirova fully realizes how close he is to decking him again (and really, really close to his face gods). No, cheating is what started this mess he refuses to stoop to his level. So, with stiff, graceless movements, he moves to the other side of Kyrn’s fire and sits his ass down.

       Try to fucking Shout at him now, asswipe. Ruin your own dinner, see if he cares.

He’s still ridiculously proud of how dazed Niro looks. Serves him right for going after the Dovahkiin.

      —“Oh, but, the thing is— Maybe that’s exactly what you are to me.             A shitty lackey who got thrown back for being an asshole.”

Kyrn is not apologetic for the condescending tone he pulls out when replying, and he smirks wide around his bloody nose. Because even though it throbs with a painful rhythm, it’s a small price to pay when he won the brawl. He spends a few seconds just basking in his own glory, because not only does he have the powers to stop the world from being destroyed, it can also stop cocky brawlers. And yet, suddenly Niro is there, right in his face, and he’s left blinking in almost shock.

A guy can’t even try to have dinner in peace, apparently.

                  —“Yes, I do.       You challenged me to a brawl, in the middle of the fucking woods, that you lost.             It’s pretty obvious that you need someone to look after you, but I am not that person.                   So take my advice, and go to town.”

And then Niro is gone, on the other side of his fire. And making it obvious that he’s not leaving. This is more of a pain than he wants it to be. He really doesn’t want to have to accommodate his trip for someone else— Especially someone with such a temper.

The kiss lasted several seconds. It was slow and delicate, soft and mildly tasted of tarts. They’d been snacking on them for hours, after all.

When they pulled away again, Aleks was smiling oh so softly. Kevin was outlined against the final rays of sundown, making his hair look like fire around the edges. A sight Aleks won’t soon forget.

A crisp breeze struck through the shorter and he snapped out of his daze.

“Stop wasting time, get in the car.” He joked.

Aleks wrapped around the front of the vehicle to the passenger side.

With little more than a laugh and a shake of his head, Kevin climbs into the RV from the driver’s side. Closing the door after he’s seated, the taller shifts in his chair to sit more comfortably. Longer legs need more room.

      —“I’m in the car,             There’s no need to rush.”

It wasn’t like they had a time limit on this road trip, just wherever they’d felt like going. Still, he can’t help but find the impatience that Aleks possesses-- cute, in a way. Must be something in the water.

Oh, no need to worry, Kevin. Aleks would give anything for a bit of solitude.

“I sleep less than you, I’m just fine.”

Aleks stepped toward his still sleepy looking boyfriend, placing Kevin between him and the RV.

“Besides, if I’m asleep, how could I look at you?”

He pressed his body against the other, hand meeting a waist and the other to the back of the neck, pulling Kevin into a kiss.

He doesn’t mind being crowded in at the side of the RV, just thanks the fact that he’s not claustrophobic. Blinking bleary eyes to clear away the last of the dream that refuses to leave, Kevin tilts his head further down, just in time to hear the sideways compliment.

He barely has enough time to let his mouth curl into a familiar smile before Aleks is leaning up, and he’s all ready closing his eyes before the kiss even begins.

His hands come up to curl around the structure of the older’s jawline, thumb dipping into the skin just below his mouth as he breathes in through his nose.

He chuckled and nodded his head. “Just a tiny bit. Don’t worry though, I’m the same way with a bunch of places back in the UK.” He glanced back down at the menu, searching over it until he found what he wanted. “Hm, I think i’m in the mood for chicken.” Of course Dan knew that Kevin probably didn’t care about his food. He was just simply thinking out loud. “What are you gonna get?”

Kevin, at least, relaxes minutely at that. He slides his expression back from it’s hinted unease and over to his usual blank. It was fine. He didn’t fuck anything up. Dan wasn’t suspicious, and Kevin was still in the clear. Nice.

     —”If you want chicken, the grilled chicken sandwich, the spicy chicken, or the chicken fingers.

          Both come with fries, which are also pretty good.”

Not over salted, like McDonald’s, or too greasy, like Checkers.

Busying himself with looking over the menu, even though he already knew his order, Kevin put off answering. The reason was unknown, and it was probably just because he wanted to do so.

               —”Single steakburger, and a Salted Caramel Milkshake.”

as soon as the words actually processed, steven’s smile faltered ever so slightly. road trip? why did aleks want to go on a road trip? it appeared as though everyone was fine and comfortable where they were, aleks included. so, what could’ve brought on the sudden urge?

     ❝ do you know why he wants to? ❞

despite a curious tone and a calm exterior, the arsonist still harbored some suspicion. he wanted to find out every detail he could without bringing his own suspicion his way. after all, the creatures always seemed to do activities with each other. then again, maybe aleks wanted to go with the rest of the group.

or maybe he was just over-thinking things. maybe there was nothing he needed to question, but after seamus– after everything– it almost felt necessary. or maybe it was just his own wants: to know what was going on and if his friends had moved on or were still stuck on the tragic event.

his hands tucked into his jeans as emerald eyes looked over the younger man. for the most part, he looked just fine. steven had nothing to worry about or anyone to worry for. they were just fine.

    ❝ is everyone else going to join him? or is he going        on his own? ❞

Kevin shrugs. Was it really his right to disclose such information? And he offered, just as much as Aleks. It was just... Strange, all around. It wasn’t his place, he decides, and shrugs again.

     —“I don’t really know why Aleks does a lot of the things he does.”

Traces of admiration line his voice before he stamps that down and out. That was crossing the line. Kevin’s affection for Aleks wasn’t required in this conversation, he needed to rein himself in and stay that way.It was less dangerous this way, and easier to keep up the act as normal.

          —“I might join him, though.

                    I’m just not sure, yet.”

More like he’s already decided he would. But if there’s anything he’s good at, it’s keeping things vague.

                              —”No, I think he was just wanting me to join him.

                                        At least, he didn’t mention anyone else.”

Aleks couldn’t see any of them. He was a wanted criminal. Though, they all were. Kevin’s thoughts turned distant, momentarily. All of his friends were... Not good people any more. At least by anyone else’s standards.

Immediately aware he’s being watched, the younger snaps back to focus, looking around as if he doesn’t instantly realise there’s nothing to fear. It’s not some stranger looking him over, it’s Ze. Steven. They’re fine. They’re o k a y. He’s okay. He’s just paranoid, and unnerved. Jumping at his own shadow was a common occurrence, but he enjoyed the feeling of being hunted.

It just makes it hard to feel safe.

“So I take it you really like this place?” He chuckled a little before glancing back down at the food selection. “Do you have a particular favorite or do you just like pretty much everything?” Dan was eyeing up some of the hamburger choices, trying to decide which one he might want.

      —”Was it so obvious?”

That puts him off a little, Kevin realises he had been too open, too carefree in his admittance of what he enjoyed. He’ll make sure not to do that again, honestly.

           —”I’m not one for sweets, but the milkshakes are an exception from time to time.”

Of course he would speak about dessert, first. Then, Kevin cants his head.

Dan wasn’t entirely sure about that last statement Kevin had said. But he still trusted him more than any other person in this town. He simply nodded in response and walked into the restaurant with the other. After a few minutes of patiently waiting, they eventually were seated by a waitress and given menus. He glanced down at the menu, giving a look to the milkshakes first. “Mm.. The cookie dough milkshake looks pretty good.”

Ah, Dan.

     —”I’d recommend it. Well, I’d recommend just about everything from here, but, that’s not the point.”