Stardew or something

He's startled from his reverie by a shuffling at the weapons rack, and when he cracks his eyes open to see the culprit, he knows the noise was on purpose. A courtesy to let him know that he was no longer alone, because Isaac well knew that Lance could be dead silent when he wanted to be.

Isaac waits.

Lance says nothing, trailing a graceful hand over the training weapons until he settles on a sword similar to the one fixed to his belt during patrols. Isaac watches, mouth suddenly dry, as he rests the flat of the blade on a finger and drags it forward until it's balanced perfectly. He looks up, meeting Isaac's gaze with traces of satisfaction in the press of his lips and a challenge in the slight tilt of his head.

"How about it?" He asks, eyes unyielding over the length of his blade. Isaac stares at him for a long, long moment.

"Fine," he mutters, and stalks over to swap out his own blade.

This is his second mistake.

The training sword is almost unsettlingly light, but no exercise is worth the risk of bloodshed. Or the hours he'd have to spend sharpening it afterwards.

Isaac stalks back to the center of the floor, purposefully turning his back to Lance shedding his outer layers. A beat longer for Lance to follow, and with a small nod, they're moving.

Almost immediately they're shockingly in sync, trading neat paries and sweeping blows like cards in a game of poker. Even if they've never faced off before, they've spent hours watching each other's backs from the outpost. Isaac knows Lance avoids taking head on strikes, so he focuses on keeping a steady base and wearing down his endurance; Lance anticipates it and challenges his footwork.

It's oddly exhilarating, and for the first time in possibly a decade, Isaac finds himself feeling just a hint--

playful.

And then Lance grins at him something feral, and with a graceful flick of his wrist, the room fills with a blue smoke.

"Cheating," he observes more than accuses, and of course, Lance rises to the bait.

"It is your fault, really, for not declaring any terms," Lance cracks back, and it's enough. Instead of turning to face him, Isaac throws both his sword and his caution to the wind and thrusts backwards, using one freed arm to strike at Lance's sword hand and his other to launch an elbow into his gut.

It's probably more from surprise than the intensity of his hits, but it's enough to get Lance to drop his weapon. Isaac takes hold of his outstretched wrist and swings his leg back, sweeping Lance's front foot out from under him, and uses his captive arm to lever him to the ground.

The obvious move is to follow him down and use his advantage to go for a hold.

This is his third mistake, because halfway to a wristlock, Lance's eyes flutter halfway closed and Isaac can feel his slow exhale, and he becomes violently aware of their position and how everywhere their bodies are pressed together burns.

For just a moment, he forgets how to breathe.

And of course, it's enough time for Lance to find leverage and flip them over, and this is so much worse because Lance is leaning over him, chest heaving, hair falling over his eyes and his smile wicked, and very, very much clutched between Isaac's thighs.