Lying in near silence on his bedroll, Xavier squirms uncomfortably. The padding was nothing more than soft rabbit hides stitched together, and left plenty of chances for the rocks beneath him to bump through. He sighs irritably through his nose. At the sound of his displeasure, he hears rustling on the other side of the fire pit.
“Is something wrong?” Comes the deep, throaty voice of his companion. That voice alone was enough to rumble deep beneath his heart and stir in his stomach.
“No.” Xavier responds, despite himself. He only wanted to get back to sleep. Stanley being awake all night fussing would interrupt that for sure.
“Okay.” He can barely see through the weak flames, when his friend turns to lay back on his own bedding. Stanley’s was made of an old bear hide, if he remembered correctly. Xavier decides in that moment that it isn’t worth his time to think about, and moves to stare back up at the stars in the sky. They’re placed at random, twinkling just the same, some bright and some dim. He can just barely make out the different constellations he’d been trained to find since he was a teen. The shield, the sword, and the bottle. The fish, the staff. The dragon was his favorite. It curled majestically through the night sky, made up of all different stars, watching over everyone carefully as it tended to do. Still, the rocks poke endlessly into Xavier’s back. He regrets his choice to not wear armor.
“Stanley?” He calls into the night, just above a whisper.
“Yes?” Comes the ready response.
“Tomorrow night. We are getting a room at the inn.”

———————————————–

Luckily, they managed to scrape together enough gold coins to afford space at the nearest inn. Dawnbrook was a town not famous for its hospitality, but it did well enough. There were small shops that lined the dirt road into town, and houses scattered back just beyond them. The river flowed some distance away, the sound of the water wheel at the sawmill splashing up into their ears as they walked. Stanley felt the need to redirect Xavier away from the shops, concerned with keeping their small wad of coins intact for the time being. If he wanted a room at the inn so badly he would need to control himself.
“I don’t understand. There is a barter system, you know.” Xavier points out impatiently, being taken away from the last shop on the road.
“I do know.” Stanley nods, keeping his eyes forward.
“I may not have had to spend any money.”
“This way, there is a guarantee that you won’t. Instead of a chance.”
Xavier frowns, blowing a lock of tawdry red hair out of his eyes. He crosses his arms over his chest defiantly. His eyes stay put on Stanley’s, watching him intently instead of the road.
“Why must you always control me like this?” Xavier asks as they enter the inn.
“Control you, how?” Stanley seems unimpressed, placing their ten coins on the counter in front of the keeper. Some of the coins are caked in river mud, and he hopes they’re clean enough to be recognized.
“You won’t allow me to do anything for myself. You claim that it’s ‘safer’ that way.” Xavier raises his hands in a quoting motion, following Stanley still to the room they were assigned. He waits for the door to close behind Xavier before he sets his pack down and responds.
“It is safer that way. If I wasn’t looking out for you, you would get yourself into far too much trouble.”
“Horseshit!” Xavier snaps through tight teeth. “I could handle myself just fine, even before I met you!”
“Xavier, please.” Stanley relents, pulling at the straps holding his armor to his body. “I do not want to quarrel with you.”
“Then admit there is nothing to quarrel about.”
“I won’t lie to you.”
Xavier narrows his eyes, stomping to the other end of the room. Stanley continues unhindered, unstrapping his chestplate with practiced and easy movements. He sets it down on the floor by his pack, starting on the belt keeping his tassets in place. As it’s removed, Xavier’s eye is drawn to the shape of Stanley’s groin beneath the chainmail. He feels unsure about lusting after his companion as he had for some time. If it isn’t a distraction, it’s surely at least unprofessional. Prompting him to think, was this a professional relationship? Surely it was. They were business partners, most likely. Traveling the countryside looking for odd jobs, be it vanquishing necromancers or leading trolls and their mammoth horses to less destructive places. He and Stanley had accomplished a lot in their time together, but was that grounds for a courtship? Perhaps.
It occurred to Xavier then, as Stanley finally sat to remove his boots, that his thoughts had gone completely off course. Grounds for a courtship or not, this mean clearly understood nothing about who he was or what he wanted. Xavier was angry all anew.
“Xavier,” Stanley says softly, catching the look the shorter man holds. The frustration is obvious, but the dusting of blush between his freckles just seems out of place.