[ They descend the grade slow and wary, but it looks like against all goddamn odds, they've finally caught a break.
It's empty, completely bare of anything that could pose a threat. Small enough that they can see everything right off the bat, and Mace changes his position accordingly, falls into step behind Ian the moment he's assessed the room. No danger up front; he needs to cover their back, and he stays close to the opening as Ian finishes checking the rest of the space out for them.
And Ian's assumption is absolutely correct. Mace doesn't even need to hear them to know what Ian's thoughts are when he looks back at Mace. The pointed little look, the implication barely hidden behind it — this is a dead end, it looks relatively safe, and they can at least attempt to let down their guards somewhat. Get some proper rest.
Also a lot more privacy, here. No wide mouth leading out into the wilderness with demons in it; no long, open hall winding out into interminable darkness. And after a thorough sweep of the unblemished walls, no hidden fucking trap doors either.
Mace raises his eyebrows and gives a conceding nod, as if to say, could be worse. Of course, being Mace, he follows up with an inexplicable wink.
He hadn't missed that uncertain, dubious little huff earlier, and even in the midst of all this, there's a small, curious part of his brain that's working away at how to respond to that. Later, though. First: ]
Could use some of those furs now, huh?
[ As he briefly, reluctantly lets go of Ian's hand to set the flannel-shirt-bag down in one corner. Instead of grabbing that hand again, he steps close and brushes the hair out of Ian's forehead, a poorly-hidden excuse to cup his face right afterward, looking him over intently in a way he hadn't been free to earlier, not even when they'd been chest-to-chest around that corner.
The torch is starting to burn low; by its dim yellow glow, Mace can see that the brief nap had done Ian a little good, but not nearly enough. Gently: ]
I'm good to stay up longer, if you wanna get some sleep first. Or we can focus on blocking that entrance. [ A pause, his thumb brushing Ian's lower lip in a touch that might feel absent, but is entirely deliberate. ]
no subject
It's empty, completely bare of anything that could pose a threat. Small enough that they can see everything right off the bat, and Mace changes his position accordingly, falls into step behind Ian the moment he's assessed the room. No danger up front; he needs to cover their back, and he stays close to the opening as Ian finishes checking the rest of the space out for them.
And Ian's assumption is absolutely correct. Mace doesn't even need to hear them to know what Ian's thoughts are when he looks back at Mace. The pointed little look, the implication barely hidden behind it — this is a dead end, it looks relatively safe, and they can at least attempt to let down their guards somewhat. Get some proper rest.
Also a lot more privacy, here. No wide mouth leading out into the wilderness with demons in it; no long, open hall winding out into interminable darkness. And after a thorough sweep of the unblemished walls, no hidden fucking trap doors either.
Mace raises his eyebrows and gives a conceding nod, as if to say, could be worse. Of course, being Mace, he follows up with an inexplicable wink.
He hadn't missed that uncertain, dubious little huff earlier, and even in the midst of all this, there's a small, curious part of his brain that's working away at how to respond to that. Later, though. First: ]
Could use some of those furs now, huh?
[ As he briefly, reluctantly lets go of Ian's hand to set the flannel-shirt-bag down in one corner. Instead of grabbing that hand again, he steps close and brushes the hair out of Ian's forehead, a poorly-hidden excuse to cup his face right afterward, looking him over intently in a way he hadn't been free to earlier, not even when they'd been chest-to-chest around that corner.
The torch is starting to burn low; by its dim yellow glow, Mace can see that the brief nap had done Ian a little good, but not nearly enough. Gently: ]
I'm good to stay up longer, if you wanna get some sleep first. Or we can focus on blocking that entrance. [ A pause, his thumb brushing Ian's lower lip in a touch that might feel absent, but is entirely deliberate. ]
Might even be able to rest together, I dunno.