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Horace was in a bit of a hurry when he finished training, which was unusal for him. Usually, he liked to stay and chat with his fellow members of the Guard; having a good relationship with those you could be going into battle with, he knew, was just as important as one's ability to swing a sword. Today, though, he begged off joining his friends for dinner and games in the barracks, much to their disappointment. When pressed, he dodged their playful inquiries with evasive comments about having business to attend to, which fooled nobody.
"He's going to hang out with his boyfriend," his friend Dalton grinned, a man that had joined the Royal Guard about the same time Horace had. Both of them friendless and overwhelmed by their new, elevated role, and they had quickly become thick as theives. Now, Horace knew not to take his ribbing to heart.
"Something like that," Horace replied, walking backwards away even as he said it, "Hey, I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow, yeah? Drinks will be on me."
Dalton sighed heavily, hands on his hips as he shook his head, but Horace already knew that the promise of free drinks had won him over, "Oh fine, get out of there."
Flashing him one last grin, Horace wasted no time turning around and picking up the pace to a light jog as he crossed the yard. He glanced at the sky as he ran, frowning at the dark clouds turning the world grey and gloomy. Araluen was deep in the heart of its summer and the sun wouldn't be setting for some time yet, but with the heavy cloud cover of the incoming summer storm, it was as dark as dusk. Light flashed and thunder rumbled threatening above him, and Horace picked up the pace.
Inside the castle, he slowed to a walk, but still his pace was brisk as he made his way back to his rooms and—temporarilym as the man spent a few weeks at Castle Araluen—Will's as well. Horace knocked only briefly before entering, more to avoid startling Will than anything. Still, his attempts to not scare him were futile, if the wide-eyed look Will was giving the door when Horace entered was any indication. He relaxed when he saw who it was, however, and have him a small smile.
"Hey. You're back early," he said, voice calm in a way that belied the nerves—obvious in his tense shoulders and the way he perched on the edge of the couch as if poised for flight.
"Wanted to get inside before the rain started up," Horace shrugged, unlacing his boots and setting them neatly by the door. He shrugged of his tunic with a soft groan, his muscles aching pleasently after a hard day's work.
"And," he added casually as he folded his tunic, "I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Will, predictably, laughed, deflecting the worry, "Me? I'm fine."
Horace raised an eyebrow, staring at his tunic, "Why in the world did I fold this? I'm tossing it straight in the laundry."
Will shot him a grin, "You're just trying to get ahead of the game, I guess."
"Guess so," Horace agreed with a shrug, tossing the garment into the basket designated for that purpose and settling beside Will. He yawned hugely, running a hand through his hair that was still damp from the shower, and he heard Will sigh.
"Come here," he murmured, turning Horace towards him. Nimble fingers went to Horace's hair, fiddling with it and moving strands around until he was finally satisfied. His hands went to Horace's shoulders as he assessed him, before nodding with satisfaction and sitting back.
"Thanks," Horace grinned.
Will raised an eyebrow, "I don't know how you keep yourself looking presentable without me."
Horace shrugged, "It doesn't matter how my hair looks; half the time it's going right into a helmet. Besides, you're one to talk."
He tugged at a curling chesnut strand of Will's hair, one of many sticking in any direction it pleased. Will batted his hand away, "Yeah but you're a member of the Royal Guard. I'm just a lowly Ranger; I don't have to worry about my appearence."
Horace, who knew when an argument was one he wasn't going to win—and they almost always were when Will was involved—didn't respond beyond a conceding head nod. They slipped into silence, and Horace settled his arm over Will's slim shoulders, pulling him against his side.
It wasn't long before the storm hit properly with rumbling thunder and rain lashing viciously on the windows. The curtains hiding the balcony doors were open, but with the lamps lit inside and the nearly pitch black darkness outside, Horace couldn't see a thing. Not that he was paying attention to outside, really. He was far more focused on the man curled against him. Even if he couldn't hear the rain and thunder, Horace would have known the storm had hit them just based off the way Will had tensed. Horace held his shoulders more securely, rubbing the point of the one under his hand with his thumb.
"I'm fine," Will said, an edge in his voice
Horace hummed, "Okay. It's okay if you're not, though."
Will didn't reply. That was alright. Horace hadn't expected him to. Leaning his cheek on the top of Will's head, he closed his eyes. Storms hadn't been easy for Will to bear in a long time, not since the trip to Aridia when they'd rescued Erak. He'd been jumpy around them after Skandia too, Horace knew, but as the years had gone by that fear had left him. The sandstorm where he'd thought he'd lost Tug forever, however, had punched a huge, gaping hole in his progress. For almost a year after their return to Araluen, Horace knew that Will had spiralled into a full-blown panic each time a storm hit, one that neither Halt nor Alyss or Horace himself could calm him down from until the storm had passed. It was better now; at the very least Will wasn't usually having panic attacks at every storm. Still, he wasn't at ease in bad weather anymore, and Horace wasn't sure he ever really would be.
An especially loud clap of thunder shattered the air, and Will flinched violently, a soft gasp of fear escaping him. Horace made a soothing noise, "Hey, it's okay. You're okay."
Will took a shuddering breath in and out, "Sorry."
"No need to apologise," Horace shook his head, "This is why I came back. So I could be here for you."
"You didn't have to do that," Will muttered.
"I didn't," Horace agreed, "But aren't you glad I did?"
It was true. Will was grateful, deeply so. Horace hadn't needed to come back and make sure Will was okay, nor had he expected him to. Still, he had, and now that he was there, Will wasn't going to complain. He pressed closer to Horace, finally wrapping an arm around his waist and burying his face in the side of the man's chest. A clap of thunder cracked through the air and he tensed with fear.
"Shh," Horace murmured. His large hand landed on Will's thigh, pulling him up and into his lap. Will didn't resist as his head was guided under Horace's chin; like this he could hear the steady beating of the man's heart, and it was a soothing contrast to the erratic thunder and the screaming of the wind outside. That wind brought back terrible memories, first of being tied to Wolfwind's mast in the middle of the ocean, salty water and icy rain drowning him where he stood and wondering with each new wave if this would be the last. Second, of that Aridi sandstorm where he'd lost Tug, failing the little pony when he needed him the most. Will squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think about it.
Horace's hand was cradling the back of Will's head, petting gently as he held Will firmly with his other arm. Will focused on the beating of the man's heart, counting each one until he got to one hundred before starting back again at one. Another clap of thunder shook the air and he gasped softly, pulled unpleasently from his focus on the heartbeats. He muttered a soft curse, turning his head to press his forehead to the hollow of Horace's throat.
He was shaking, he realised with no little embarrassment, and tried to focus on relaxing his muscles from head to toe the way Lady Pauline had taught him years ago, back when his nightmares and panic attacks were at their worst. Horace's company made it easier, the warmth of his body encouraging Will to relax.
"Talk to me?" Will murmured. Horace made a noise of agreement, pausing breifly as he thought. When he spoke, his voice was low and calm, rumbling in his chest against Will's cheek.
"Training is going good. We got a group of new recruits for the Royal Guard and so it's been fun teaching them the ins and outs of how the Guard works. There's one boy in particular that I think reminds me of myself a bit, and I fear I've been favoring him a bit when I'm not watching myself," Horace said, and laughed softly.
"Tall? Blond? Eats a lot?" Will asked teasingly.
"All of the above," Horace replied with a smile in his voice, "But also naive and a little dumb, but makes up with it with sheer enthusiasm."
"You're not dumb," Will said.
"I'm a little dumb," Horace shook his head, "It's part of my charm."
"You're straightforward," Will insisted, frowning. He hated to hear his boyfriend speaking down about himself to any degree, even if it was in jest, "It's admirable, and important. Where would I be without you to break through my convoluted schemes when I'm getting too clever for my own good?"
"I'm sure you'd manage somehow," Horace laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of Will's head, "But thank you."
Will glanced up at him with a small smile. Reaching up, he cradled Horace's jaw with one hand, running his thumb over his freckled cheeks. Horace leaned into the contact, eyes softening, and Will felt his breath catch in his throat. He was so unbelievably beautiful, Will thought. His hair was still tousled from his shower despite Will's best efforts to tame it, his eyes were tired, and there was a rough 5 o'clock shadow on his jaw, but these small imperfections only served to make the man more breathtaking.
Horace tilted Will's chin up with one crooked finger, bending his head to press his lips to Will's. One hand slipped under his shirt, resting on the small of Will's back to hold him close, and the contact was so, so warm. Will shivered, bringing his other arm up to wind around Horace's shoulders and shifting to deepen the kiss. They kissed slowly, the storm raging outside nothing more than background noise. It couldn't break the bubble of soft intimacy that settled over the two men as they kissed in the dim candlelight.
By the time they parted, Horace felt warm from head to toe, and he couldn't keep the silly grin off his face. Will took one look at his face and dissolved into a fit of helpless giggles, resting his forehead on Horace's shoulder. Horace laughed as well, hugging him tightly and rocking them both side to side. Outside, the storm had begun to calm, the torrential downpour easing into a gentle patter of noise and the thunder all but disappearing.
"Storm's passing," Horace commented.
Will nodded thoughtfully, glancing up at Horace, "I don't really want to move. But I am so, so hungry."
Horace chuckled, "Stealing my line, are we? How about this, I will call for someone to bring food up, we can eat here, and then do absolutely nothing the rest of the evening."
"That sounds absolutely amazing," Will replied with no little feeling.
The food was arranged and then consumed in due course, and by the time they each had bowls of stew and fresh bread in their stomachs, Horace was yawning every other minute, struggling to keep his eyes open. Will wasn't in any better a state; the fear from the storm had already left him drained, and with warm food in his stomach he could hardly even consider getting up and moving to bed. Horace solved that particular problem for him, however. He got to his feet with a groan, and before Will could protest at the loss of his warmth beside him on the couch, he had bent down and picked Will up with ease.
Will hummed contentedly, wrapping his arms around Horace's neck and dropping his head to his shoulder as he was carried to bed. Technically, the bed was designed to hold only one person, and Horace was already tall and broad enough to push the boundaries of the little mattress, but Will himself was small and they made do. Horace's favorite thing anyway was when Will slept on top of him, his weight solid and comforting and his breath ghosting across Horace's neck and collar. He wrapped one arm around the man's waist to keep him in place, propping his head up on the other.
Will's eyes were already closed, his cheek smooshed against Horace's chest, and Horace smiled sleepily. Brushing hair out of Will's eyes with his thumb, he continued the movement to card his finger's through the man's hair, and Will hummed sleepily. Not for the first time, Horace was reminded of a particularly affectionate cat. If Will could, Horace thought he would be purring right then.
"Goodnight, Will," Horace murmured, but Will was already asleep. Closing his eyes Horace shifted, careful not to disrupt his sleeping boyfriend, and listened to the rain outside as he waited for sleep to come.