#riyira

Royce looked up through the thick canopy of leaves above him, trying to get a good glimpse at the sun’s position through them. He and Hadrian had been heading home from a mission when they’d taken a wrong turn—Hadrian’s idea, as Royce was quick to point out—and gotten lost in an incredibly dense forest. It was only a matter of time until the managed to find a decent vantage point, but in the meantime the detour was a little aggravating for the tense thief. Forests without paths were always something to be wary of.

Hadrian, however, didn’t seem to have that much of a problem with their current situation. He whistled as he began to stack up firewood by a makeshift pit, easily able to carry several cuts of wood over one shoulder. Their horses grazed peacefully a few trees over, making quick work of the available undergrowth. They had slung the saddles over thick, low-hanging branches to air out, and their packs had been tossed nearby. The campsite was relatively quite nice, but Royce was still scowling as Hadrian started breathing some kindling to life.

“Nice day to get lost, isn’t it?” his companion offered far too cheerily as he fanned the infant flames. “Warm weather, plenty of food and supplies left, and just after a successful mission. It’s almost like a miniature vacation!”

Royce rolled his eyes and paced before the fire pit, his shoes started to pad down the grass into a little path. “You do realize that we’re still lost, right? This puts a serious delay into our schedule.”

Hadrian just shook his head. “You take things too seriously sometimes, you know that? Why I remember plenty of times where I was in worse straits than this—hell, one time I got lost all on my own and wandered a mountain for a week before finding any signs of life. Now that was being lost!”

“Ugh, why am I not surprised.”

Hadrian sat back on his heels with a pleased expression and put some logs on the fire as it grew to a considerable size. “Does someone need a hug?” he teased, eyes twinkling with good cheer and mischievousness.

Royce stopped pacing for a heartbeat, attempting to glare daggers at his oblivious friend. “Try to hug me and I will sit you on your ass so quickly.”

Hadrian chuckled. “Oh c’mon Royce, don’t be like that—I could take you any day.”

The dark thief appeared genuinely insulted by that comment. “Are you joking, or are you actually as delusional as I had assumed?”

His partner in crime snorted. “Anytime and anywhere, Melbourne.”

“Oh that is just rude,” Royce snarled as he tore off his outer cloak. He didn’t bear any ill well towards his friend in particular, but he needed to let out the stress that had been plaguing him of late, and Hadrian was a very big, willing target.

Hadrian grinned and relieved himself of his swords at Royce’s reaction, moving out of the way of his fire to a clearer patch of ground. The two were on each other at the next heartbeat, without any need to speak or clarify their intentions. Royce was quick on his feet and slippery, but Hadrian had the clear advantage in size and muscle mass. They were both often errantly dismissed for differing reasons—Royce being considered weak and Hadrian brainless due to their appearances—but that was hardly the case in fact. The men worked well together in part because they were an equal match, and they showed it in the way they fought.

Royce had the upper edge for a while, spurred on by his eagerness to engage compared to Hadrian’s more laid-back attitude, but things quickly took a turn in the opposite direction, and soon Hadrian had Royce pinned to the leafy forest floor. Royce was wholly unable to move or break the younger man’s grip, and his smaller size was only aiding in keeping him down.

He tended to be a bit of a sore loser and wanted to yell and curse and accuse Hadrian of cheating the match miraculously, but something stopped him. Hadrian’s face was so close to his, as the man panted for breath on top of him, and there was something about the way his light hair framed his face in that moment that made Royce incredibly interested and confused.

“What’re you…stop doing that,” he grumbled half-heartedly, still a bit dazed.

“Doing what?” Hadrian asked, voice low but quiet in Royce’s ear.

“Stop the—the thing—the thing you’re doing with your face.”

Even if Royce didn’t understand it at the time, it didn’t take long for Hadrian to. The bulkier man purred and leaned in, his lips a hair’s breadth from Royce’s. “Doing this?”

He found Royce unable to speak, unwilling to even attempt a stutter, with the smaller man’s eyes focused entirely on Hadrian’s lips. Those lips quickly split into a knowing smirk as he leaned down and completed the touch, gently kissing his partner in crime for a moment before pulling away again.

“Or did you mean that?”

Royce stammered, pupils dilated and face almost needy, for a solid minute before he could pull himself together. “What the hell was that for?! Get off of me!” Even his protest seemed rather weak.

Hadrian just smirked and got off him, walking over to the fire adding another log to it before it burned itself out. “What does it look like I was doing?”

Royce rolled onto his side but didn’t bother getting up. “You kissed me!” he accused.

Hadrian just smirked and shrugged. “Your point is?”

“You…you stopped.”

Oh.

“Would you rather I continued?” Hadrian asked, worried for a moment that he’d gotten the wrong impression.

He definitely had not. “Just…just get over here you idiot and finish the job.”

Hadrian laughed and made his way back over to Royce, easily pushing the smaller man down again and pressing teasing kisses to his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, anywhere but his lips. It was only when he heard Royce audibly whine underneath him that he caved again, tasting the man’s soft lips and reveling in the sensation. This was going to be a very interesting night, indeed.