#thread. flint.

𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑, 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐇𝐈𝐌. as if pretending would perhaps drive away the man whose weight he could feel upon the bunk adjacent him. whose gaze he could feel boring a hole into the side of his face as he slept. or, well, didn't. at last, a sigh escaped him and a single brow quirked, but his eyes remained RESOLUTELY shut a moment longer.

just a moment more to shut out the world and feign himself removed from its torments. alas, the torments came from within as well, and would suffer no ignorance to their damage.

❛ what on earth gave you that idea? ❜ positively deadpanned, like the crack of a whip. one eye creaked open, followed begrudgingly by the other. darkness still SHROUDED the room, broken only by meagre spills of moonlight from the grubby panes of glass. they caught upon the man's curls ... silver, where the brown was illuminated in that cool glow. beautiful, in the way a ghost must be. save that silver was real, was tangible, and was sat with his lower back flush to flint's thigh.

❛ you came here last night as well, and the one before. either my performance is growing less convincing, or you're becoming more observant. ❜ he stated the knowledge as the fact it was, and without any brokerage for argument. still, the annoyance he had expected to needle his tone simply ... wasn't there. had evaporated in the sea breeze at the WARM PRESS of contact. ❛ so i take it, i'm not the only one who can't sleep. ❜ a statement, not a question.

𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍, 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐍𝐎 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑. stern and austere, with a visage made up of hard features that had yet to soften in the presence of this eccentric little crew. a powerful opponent, through bending and physique alike, muscles thick and coiled beneath that fur mantle. intimidating by any measure.

and yet ... one little airbender was all it took to betray that underlying softness he worked so hard to mask. silver was lounging, relaxed and languid, at his side. it had been a long day of training with the avatar ; edward seemed to have caught onto the basics, but was far from any master. silver's efforts were impressive, and held a light fluidity to them that had drawn his eye. more than a pretty face and a witty tongue, then. a fearsome bender by their own right, and useful in a fight. the more he learned of the man, the more his own intrigue swelled. it was an unfamiliar feeling, to say the least.

they were all huddled about the campfire for supper, and flint was resolutely ignoring the glances thrown their way. irritating little grins and whispers passed back and forth between the others. still, he made no move to withdraw as silver's head tipped onto a broad shoulder and remained there. instead, the corner of his mouth twitched to the barest hint of a smile. he stirred idle circles into his bowl of stew with a spoon. ❛ you should eat something. i'm sure you worked up an appetite today. ❜ voice a low rumble, hushed, but no way to keep the conversation private when in such close quarters.

𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐓, 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐗𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅 & 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑. a storming gaze rolled to the heavens and fell back to level down upon silver, narrowed in displeasure. ❛ is that so? ❜ his voice alone was scathing, no small measure of derision dripping from a rumbling tone. ❛ sent to antagonize me, i'd wager. not a peace offering, but a goading gesture. ❜ flint knew each of his peers well, as such was wise in their game of politics. a game he wished not to play, with a head more keen for strategy than scheming, though adept at both.

but ned he knew best. their sordid history, both in and outside of the bedroom, left little unspoken between them. even when gestures made clear what words would not be appropriate to. for ned was both a clever an observant rival, and had surely took note of his fondness for this one.

❛ i'll not bed someone sent to do so of another's will, and not their own. ❜ his fellow praetor well knew this, and had surely chosen silver as a means to an end. the end, of course, being to stoke the fires of rage in flint's belly and make a fool of him ere the visit's end. instead, he seemed calm. something hot and dark remained broiling beneath his skin, but upon the surface his expression was neutral. save for the twitch of his jaw at its hinge as teeth ground briefly.

𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 & 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘, 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓. 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐓. for one so at home in the sea, he felt much the foreign body next to one so wholly at one with her. one whose very essence was crafted from and for the open water. the motions of his arms felt floundering, the steady kicks of his legs like those of a stumbling fawn. he was a difficult man to intimidate, but silver managed it with ease ; not from any sense of fear or the like, but simply with the force of his nature. his very being. if no plain man could match james flint, none could rise to equal him ... this one could.

waves jostled them, jostled him, as silver seemed to press ever closer. laid a palm to flint's bare chest within the deep cut neck of his shirt, worn white linen translucent and BILLOWING in the water. ❛ is it, now? i'm afraid you're mistaken, mister silver. ❜ he wasn't. the moment that touch had settled upon him, unflinching and unyielding, his heart had quickened. stumbled in its rhythm only to strike up in double time.

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒, 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. love, even, were he quite so brave and bold to call it such. what else could it be, when the delicate little thing he was carving held such meaning? made from a fine river stone that silver themself had given him, made smooth by the waters currents, and white as snow. he had begun whittling it down, shaping it fully round into a proper pendant's shape. its surface held the beginnings of intricate carvings, symbols of the air peoples.

one glance over to jack revealed no similar success. no comparable level of skill. the barest hint of a twitch to his mouth as he stifled a grin. not wholly smug nor condescending as once it might have been. no, there was endearment there, the sort which had wormed its way into his heart and made a home there.

he huffed a sigh. ❛ what the fuck is that supposed to be? ❜ for a man of boundless eloquence, well read and charismatic, adept at rousing troops with stirring poetics ... he could certainly be a blunt prick sometimes. eyes cast down to the misshapen lump held resolute in the younger man's hands. the fire cast its flickering glow 'cross them both and threw flint's smirk into shadow. ❛ whatever it is, i'm afraid it needs to be put out of its misery. ❜

a beat of silence, and a roll of his eyes at no one but himself. he snatched the knife from jack's hands in a fluid motion ; his strength would brook no resistance, even from a master earthbender. ❛ your blade's too dull, for one. that's likely half the problem. ❜ half was being generous. a surefire way of recognizing his softness in this. he pulled a small whetstone from his pocket and began to draw the very edge across it in long, sweeping strokes.

❛ you have to picture your end result while you work, not just the next step in the process. what is it meant to be? it's for edward, yes? ❜ that much was obvious. if only for his own bit of art and its intended recipient one day.

𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅𝐅, 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐘 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐓, before heading back to work. there was a time he'd have been anxious about it, mind ever drifting back to all that remained waiting for him at home. paperwork especially. but lately, he'd been trying this novel little thing called relaxation. or, taking the stick out of his ass, as charles was prone to commenting. but the god of war wasn't here. they did have plans that evening : dinner plans, which would likely devolve into ordering takeaway and fucking all night at the beach house.

silver was here. here and shirtless, curls caught in the sea breeze, with the sun on their face. flint, for one, was aiming diligently at distracting himself from the sight of the other. a thing that had been becoming increasingly difficult of late. the further out he got from divorce, the more he seemed to notice little things. the way silver's eyes crinkled about the edges when he grinned, the way their lips parted idly and stayed that way, inviting. the way they stood so close, he could hardly recall when the space had diminished between them.

such was the case now, both stood leaning against the ship's rail and staring out at the sun glittering across cresting waves. ❛ i meant to thank you, by the way. i took your advice and started seeing someone. ❜ the words seemed to leap from his tongue, unbidden. another mode of distracting himself away from silver. a moment's hesitation, ere he stepped away and stripped the button up from his torso. ❛ as much as it pains me to admit ... you were right. i needed to put myself back out there. ❜ indeed, there were telling marks at the crook of his neck and down a broad chest : bites & bruises, and deep scratches at his back as he turned to approach a lounge chair.

❛ you know, i don't think i've really, truly relaxed in decades. ❜ he sunk down into the chair and draped, languid, reaching for his abandoned cocktail and pulling the sunglasses back down from atop his head. a beat of silence as he considered, sipping from the margarita glass. ❛ you likely wouldn't believe me if i told you, but i'll do so nonetheless if you promise to keep your mouth shut about it. ❜

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑 𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘, 𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐀𝐒𝐓. not exactly somewhere one would expect to find the god of the sea. certainly not where said god would've expected to find himself, for that matter. but silver had suggested he get out more, make himself more available ... move on. the latter of which was easier said than done. still, that fluttering nuisance of a god was his closest friend, and he knew the advice had been given with the best intent.

so, here he was. sat atop a far dingier bar stool than he'd like, surrounded by more people than he'd like, and four old fashioned whiskey glasses deep. at least there was no one here to recognize him ; that had been the point, after all, hadn't it? for if he was truly going to humour silver's words and sleep with someone tonight, it sure as hell wouldn't be with anyone he knew. the gods were messy, complicated, far too many strings attached no matter what the context. he needed casual. fun. things that he himself was not.

and so, flint was dressed casual. fun. worn jeans and boots, a leather jacket atop a tshirt, sleeves pushed up his freckled forearms, a silver piercing in one ear. even silver might've thought he looked fuckable tonight.

a broad hand closed about his fifth drink, rose halfway to his lips, when he heard the familiar husk at his ear. eyes rolled, scowl affixed as he turned to face the god of war. ❛ charles. what the fuck are you doing here? ❜ his own voice was rough, but looser than it was without an evening's alcohol to ease the way. also, pointedly ignoring that he was the odd god out in a place like this, not charles. ❛ i'm not here to pick a fight much as i'd enjoy beating you to a bloody pulp and calling it a night. ❜ glass now pressed to smirking lips where he sank the last of its contents and set it aside.

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐗𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃. that endless, nattering voice in his ear at what seemed like all waking hours. why had it ever seemed like a good idea to accept his application for teaching assistant? what had possessed him not to turn it down on sight? the other was easily and effortlessly his most vocal student ; opinions on everything, and always the first to voice them, no matter how devil's advocate they may appear.

of course, that was exactly why flint liked him so much. an admission that would never escape his lips, else silver's ego grew even more unmanageable. if such a thing was entirely possible. still, his begrudging fondness could be read plain in other ways, by those who knew him best. in the way he humoured his interruptions, suffered his arguments with pride, allowed their ... unprofessional tendencies. this particular line of questioning, rather impressively, managed to fit within the bounds of all three.

❛ no. in fact, ❜ a beat of silence as he continued his current scrawl into the margins of a student essay. ❛ i've been reliably assured i'm getting worse with age. ❜ deadpanned, dry & sharp. not once did he pause to glance up from the paper and acknowledge silver directly. the scratch of his pen and the dull, ticking clock the only sounds to fill the room. he wrapped up his scathing comments with a flourish and added a large letter 'F' to the front paper. a pause, ere he circled 'round it twice. he pushed his chair back from the pile of work and looked up at last to where silver sat, hunched in the chair across his desk. sharing the space and grading their own stack of flint's students' papers.