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The weather was splendid, he wasn't bleeding, Mutt chased after a squirrel, and Pebbles didn't throw him off today.
Truly a magnificent day. Not often did Henry get so much luck and peace during the last few months. He didn't encounter any bandits, just some merchants who asked for directions. He agreed to escort them and got a big, beautiful bag of groschen for it, and no need to even draw his sword. The birds were singing, the grass was green, and the sky was clear. For a moment, he almost forgot there was a war going on. A bloody, ruthless war he was a part of.
He swayed in the saddle softly, relaxed. Mutt came back, wagging his tail and panting, silly doggie. He threw him a piece of dry meat, smiling.
"Didn't catch the squirrel, did you, Mutt? Damn beasts are quick, are they?"
Mutt barked, and Henry smiled wider. Oh, how he wished this peace on everyone deserving of it. He wasn't even hungry. He just needed a bath after three days of travelling.
He ran a hand through his hair at the sight of the Devil's Den in the distance. He didn't rush Pebbles, she was having a nice time strolling through the countryside. She stopped every now and then to eat some grass, and he petted her neck. The war was still horrible, but his horse was strong, and his dog loyal.
He straightened up in the saddle. He was the sole traveller on the road and used it to full advantage, coming home in all his dirty, rough glory. In just a few months, he became someone he had desperately looked up to all his younger years. An adventurer, if he could call himself that. He didn't exactly choose this path. But he walked it well, and adapted to whatever life needed him to be or do at the moment. Right now, he was a member of the pack, a soldier of a legendary captain, a squire of a young lord. A lover.
He jumped off the horse, stretched. Mutt played in the field, chasing butterflies.
It was nearly evening, so he was expecting the pack to start drinking. He walked into the Den, untying his coat. Kubyenka was already cursing Hynek over some dice. Żiżka was cleaning his dagger on the dining table. He spotted Katherine walking to the kitchen and stopped her, gently tugging at her arm.
"Have you seen Hans?"
Katherine looked at him and sighed.
"Hello to you, too, Henry. He's upstairs."
He nodded, blushing slightly at her annoyance. He could be more subtle. Or cultured.
"Thank you."
"He's in a pissy mood today."
Henry raised his eyebrows.
"How so? More than usual?"
Katherine just waved her hand dismissively and walked away, mumbling something. Alright, this wasn't a good sign. She was used to the whole pack, most of all, to stupid men, what did Hans do to piss her off so much?
He hoped he looked normal enough while he walked up the stairs to their shared room. He knocked on the door, taking off his coat and walking in, smiling softly.
Hans was in Henry's bed, sleeping on his side, with his arms crossed on his chest. Henry closed and locked the door, set his coat aside on the chair, and sat on the edge of his bed. He leaned over Hans, kissing his shoulder.
He let Hans wake up on his own, the young lord stretching and yawning with such clear complaint in his movements, he looked like an angry cat for a second. Henry smiled at him, supporting himself with one arm thrown over Hans.
"Hello."
Hans rubbed his eye with his fingers, huffing softly. Henry smirked at his barely conscious behaviour.
"Someone's not happy to be awake, eh?"
Hans moaned with such dissatisfaction and indignation, Henry could only laugh softly. He rested his chin on Hans' shoulder, stroking his back. He waited for Hans to come back to this reality, he knew how moody his lord could be after waking up.
After a moment, Hans ruffled Henry's hair with his hand, brushing his fingers through it.
"You're back."
"Yes, thank you for noticing."
Henry kicked off his shoes and laid down next to him, stretching after the long journey. Hans made space for him, wrapping an arm around his waist. He closed his eyes again, breathing slowly.
"Katherine said you're in a bad mood."
Hans huffed and pressed his face into Henry's chest. Getting something out of him was harder than breaking out of Troski sometimes, Henry realised that a long time ago.
"Someone beat you at dice?" Henry whispered, teasing, caressing his blond hair. He felt a faint smell of wine in the air and sniffed Hans' clothes. "Or was the wine not to your liking, my lord?"
Hans mumbled something, playing with the strap of Henry's shoulder pad.
"You're still in armour."
"It's the light set today."
Hans made a grumpy sound at that, setting his hand on Henry's waist again. After a long minute, he spoke again, quietly.
"I missed you."
Henry smiled.
"Is that the reason you're being like this?"
"No."
"Then what is it?"
Hans sighed as if Henry had asked him to move a mountain from one place to another. He stretched, moving onto his back, his eyes finally fully open. Henry kissed his temple in hopes of appeasing him a bit. Hans was a complicated lock that very few people knew how to pick. Henry was too humble to think of himself as being the only one, but perhaps he was. He was the most patient with Hans, anyway. Complicated locks require a lot of patience.
Hans cupped his face in his hand, kissing him softly. Henry stroked his side, bringing him closer.
"I missed you too." He said quietly, looking at Hans as they parted. "Now tell me what's wrong."
Hans shook his head.
"You first. How was your trip?"
"Trip?" Henry laughed, lying down more comfortably, one arm slipping under Hans' shoulders. "Żiżka sent me to a shithole past Kuttenberg. I got the job done."
"Don't you always."
He smiled, looking at Hans from below, as he was now half sitting, elevated on his elbow, inspecting Henry's clothes and untying the straps of his armour. Henry let him, staying quiet for a while, until he couldn't take it anymore.
"What is it, love?"
Hans put away one plate, freeing Henry's shoulder. He seemed a bit more eager to talk now, Henry knew what to say to make him let go. That blacksmith's boy was clever. And had all the sensitivity needed to figure Hans out in a few moments.
"It's dumb."
"It's not. Tell me."
"I didn't do anything to Katherine."
"I didn't say that you did."
"You said she was complaining about me."
Henry took a big breath, running his fingers through Hans' hair.
"She just said you're in a pissy mood and left. Honestly, she was annoyed at me, too. I didn't say hello to her. Not very…chivalrous of me."
Hans sighed, looking away. He let Henry play with his hair, hummed when his nails gently scratched his neck.
"I just wanted to drink in peace, and they were all…all over me. Mocking me, I don't know."
Henry frowned.
"Who?"
"The pack. Doesn't matter, they were having fun and I was being moody, so they teased me, I'm not a child, I'm not gonna be all pouty about it. I just left. I wasn't in the mood."
Henry listened, his eyes locked on the blond strands between his fingers.
"Why weren't you in the mood? I thought you got along with them."
"I do. Doesn't matter."
"Hans."
Hans exhaled, laid back down, hiding his face in Henry's neck. Henry wrapped his arms around him. Alright, so this wasn't all of it.
He held Hans for a moment, stroking his back. This was still so painfully new to them, it had been barely weeks since they became…whatever they were now. But he had learned a lot about Hans during those weeks, and he cherished every moment with him, even if a job needed to be done halfway across the region, and he was sometimes gone for days at a time. Hans was always here, waiting for him, and usually went downstairs as soon as he heard Henry getting off Pebbles under their window. Most of the time, Henry went straight to him, too. Especially if he returned at night.
He kissed Hans' head, breathing in. Hans smelled of the bathing oils and wine, as per usual.
"I'm probably getting the bed dirty." Henry whispered, tangling their legs.
"I don't care."
"That's because it's not your bed, love."
He could feel Hans smiling into his neck, softly.
"You do need a bath, I will say that. I can smell Pebbles and Mutt under your chin. How did that happen?"
Henry smiled, shrugging softly. He put his hand under Hans' thigh, pulling his leg over his waist, so Hans was basically half over him. Hans finally relaxed a bit more, leaning into the touch.
"Alright, alright."
"Hm? What is it?"
"You win."
Henry raised his eyebrows, smirking, feigning innocence.
"At what?"
"I know what you're doing."
"Enlighten me."
Hans moved away to look at him, with hazy, still sleepy eyes.
"I missed you. And I felt bad."
"I was only gone three days."
"Yes, but you were gone. And I started thinking about your endless travels, missions, quests. I feel stuck here, Hal."
Henry turned his head to the side.
"Stuck?"
"I can't even leave this damn inn. Every time I want to step foot outside, someone's screaming about how I'm going to be kidnapped or killed."
"That someone, as I assume, Żiżka, is right. You're valuable."
"No, I'm not. If I were kidnapped again, Hanush would pay the ransom, yes, but that doesn't make me valuable. That makes me expensive."
Henry smirked.
"Don't you like being expensive?"
"Not in this way. Not as an expensive chair, or a special book."
"Books are valuable."
"Henry, sweetheart, shut up."
Henry smiled softly, looking down at Hans' chest, where he fidgeted with the buttons of his shirt.
He understood Hans, of course he did. Truth be told, he was expecting the young lord to finally snap one day. Hans liked drinking and wasting his time, but he was stuck here, at the Den, just waiting for Henry to come back every few days. He barely got out on his own and had to endure the pack that treated him as a fancy ace up their sleeve if they needed a nobleman for any kind of reason. He was a knight, for God's sake. And he was reduced to whatever Hanush usually reduced him to. A name and a set of unpleasant adjectives, most of them untrue.
He was probably going insane here. In the middle of nowhere, during a beautiful summer, when so many things were happening, and he yearned for the feeling of importance. Adventure. Even after everything that has happened to him.
"I'm bored here. Out of my mind, bored, so bored!" Hans sighed, wiping his face with his hand. "Not as a child without a toy, or an unbehaved dog, I am slowly descending into madness because of this place. Your presence is the only joy I can get in this shithole of an inn."
Henry stayed silent, his eyes locked onto Hans' collarbone, his fingers tracing it slowly. Hans looked at him, resigned.
"But it's dumb, as I said. You have much bigger problems than my boredom."
"Is your boredom making you drink more?"
Hans blinked, frowned, confused.
"What does my drinking have to do with anything?"
Henry sighed.
"Nothing, forget I asked. Listen, if you're so restless here, I'll take you with me to Kuttenberg tomorrow."
Such a simple, honest offer made Hans even more confused, as he raised his eyebrows, surprised.
"What? Really?"
"Yes."
"It can't be that simple. Żiżka…"
"Fuck Żiżka." Henry kissed his collarbone softly, unbuttoning the shirt at last. "I have a few things I need to take care of, nothing drastic. I'll take you with me. We can have a day to ourselves outside this room, what do you say?"
Hans huffed, still quite surprised at how quickly Henry offered a solution to a problem that had been troubling the lord for weeks now. Well, maybe it wasn't a solution in itself, but a temporary fix.
"You're always so eager to help everyone, you know that?"
Henry smiled into his neck.
"I don't take just anyone on my adventures."
"Going shopping in Kuttenberg is an adventure to you?"
"It sure will be to you, won't it? Come on, Hans. I know you're dying to see the city."
Hans sighed and nodded, not wanting to argue over this. He did want to see the city, and with Henry by his side, he'd be safe.
He closed his eyes as Henry's hand slipped under his shirt, grabbing his side with soft strength, his skin pressed between Henry's fingers.
"You were supposed to take a bath first."
Henry moaned, not thrilled about the idea.
"I'm too tired."
"Oh, but not too tired for this? Go take a bath."
Henry huffed, but obediently sat up, taking his hands away. He put his shoes back on, looking over his shoulder at Hans.
"Get ready in the meantime."
Hans laughed, a slight blush coloring his ears.
"How subtle. You have no manners."
"It's not my manners you're interested in, is it, my lord?" he stood up, patted Hans' thigh with a smile. "It's been three days, I'm starving."
Hans turned on his side, watching Henry leave the room.
This was a pleasant routine of theirs. Whatever the job was, however hard or not, Henry would come back, as always, greet him, and fuck him senseless in some dark corner of the Den. Sometimes he made Hans come with him to the baths, and Hans could take care of his wounds before taking care of his needs. And Henry had needs for days.
The day had turned into night before Henry came back, holding most of his outdoor clothes in his hands, his hair still damp. The door was locked, the air was crisp, he could hear the pack drinking the night away downstairs, everyone too busy to care about the two of them. He put his things on the table, kicking off his shoes as he walked to the bed, each step quick and precise. He was a man of action, as Hans had witnessed many times before this. In every sense of the word.
Hans sat on the bed with his back to the wall, wearing only his underwear. Henry wasn't happy about that.
"You're still dressed?"
Hans snorted.
"Dressed? You call this-" the end of the sentence died in his throat as Henry grabbed his legs by the ankles and pulled him towards himself with such force, Hans immediately fell on the bed, lying under him. "Jesus, Henry!"
He had to take a big breath, as most air escaped his lungs at the impact, and he watched as Henry took off his shirt, impatient as ever.
"You're a barbarian."
"And you're hard."
"Fuck off!"
He was, of course, no surprise there. He had prepared himself while Henry was taking a bath, and now they were alone, his mind already hazy, his heart beating in his ears. Henry lowered himself over him, his hands secured on both sides of Hans' head, he kissed his throat, biting at the skin.
He was so pleasantly heavy and big. Hans thought that aspect of him would be hard to get used to, but he found it fascinating, apart from other things. Henry's weight was always a welcome sensation, especially when he was between Hans' legs. His shoulders were wide enough to almost block out the view of the ceiling. When he grabbed Hans' waist, it could disappear in his hands.
Henry continued his assault on Hans' throat, kissing and biting, nudging it with his face, breathing in the familiar scent, as Hans put his hands in his hair, and his legs around his hips. Jesus, Henry was really hotheaded tonight. It was a sharp contrast to their first night together, both of them unsure and clumsy. Hans did find it truly endearing at the time, and gentle Henry was something he could never get enough of, but sometimes he was shocked by the sheer amount of desperation and neediness the blacksmith presented within himself.
Hans gasped, feigning indignation, as Henry tore off his underwear, tossing it aside.
"You lack so much grace, you are aware of that, I hope?" The young lord raised his eyebrows, panting quietly. Henry just kissed him, shutting him up. It has worked.
Hans gasped again as he was flipped on the bed, face pressed into the pillow, Henry's mouth on the back of his neck.
"God, Henry, you animal!"
He could feel Henry smile into his shoulder blade, his fingers pressed into Hans' waist.
"Want me to stop?" he asked softly, sincerely, as if Hans would even think of telling him that.
"Fuck you."
"Was that a yes or a no, love?"
Hans mumbled something under his breath, closing his eyes as he felt his hips being lifted.
"You're a brute." he managed to say as the world blurred away slowly under Henry's touch. Henry pressed a rough, solid kiss to the nape of his neck and grunted in confirmation.
He kneeled behind his lord, grabbed the oil from the chest, Hans already used half of it on himself. He poured a generous amount on his hand, pushed his trousers down to his thighs, wrapping his fingers around himself. Hans looked over his shoulder, breathing.
"What are we going to do in Kuttenberg?"
Henry had to take a shaky breath to answer.
"Whatever you want."
"Is it true they have a fountain?"
"Yes. In the middle of the city."
"That's odd. And have you-Fuck!"
He buried his face in the pillows as Henry pushed inside him, holding his hips with a crushing strength. He choked on a moan, reached his hand back to put it on Henry's.
His ears were ringing for a minute, and Henry was still as a statue behind him, only moving once the awful tension in Hans' back gave away to a sweet softness and rising need for more. He put one hand in Hans' hair, holding his head down, making sure he was quiet. Even then, Hans managed to curse under his breath with each thrust.
"You're a fucking…dog…sometimes…"
Henry swallowed hard, now pressed to Hans' back, with just enough room for his hips to move.
"Oh am I now?"
Something in his tone, combined with the pressure and pace of his movement, made Hans finally shut up for good, only gaining moans and gasps from him as he drove himself deeper.
It was true, he was starving. And lately, he developed a taste for devouring Hans like this. Maybe it wasn't always graceful, but it was never his goal to make Hans feel delicate. Only wanted and owned.
He kneeled back up, keeping Hans in place by his hips, panting way too loud, and gritting his teeth. Bruises started to form on that narrow waist of his lord. Henry closed his eyes, letting his head fall back, bringing Hans to meet his thrusts at a merciless pace, until he came inside him, letting out a noise all too similar to a growl.
He didn't hear for a minute, and just laid over him, pulling out, breathing into his back. He swallowed hard, and Hans helped him to get on the bed.
Henry reached blindly, his hand travelling down the lord's stomach, but Hans pushed away his hand.
"No need, I'm done."
He blinked, smiling almost drunkenly, kissing Hans slowly, stealing his breath.
"You sure?" he asked when they parted, only now regaining his full vision. Hans nodded, holding onto his shoulders.
"Yes."
That was a nice answer, solid. His tone happy, as well. Henry looked at him, still regulating his breathing.
He loved seeing Hans like this, all red and with that specific spark in his eyes, his lips red from biting them, his hair a complete mess. His neck looked like a battlefield. Pride bloomed in Henry's chest. Especially now, that he learned Hans came on his own, untouched.
He threw an arm around him, mumbling when Hans said something about cleaning up. He was not moving an inch now. Not even Sigismund would make him sit up.
"You truly are a barbarian, Henry." Hans was complaining for a moment now, yet only that part reached Henry's ears. "I swear. Like a damn dog."
Henry smiled, stretching.
"Did you like it?"
Silence for a few seconds.
"Yes."
"Do you want me to do it again in the future?"
Another moment of painfully obvious silence.
"Fuck off."
He laughed, letting his hand stroke Hans' back as the man was cleaning himself with a towel. He took it from his hands, finally sitting up, his honour not letting him be passive.
"I can take care of myself, Hal."
"I know. Shut up."
He cleaned them both, washed his face in the small bowl of water they shared for such moments and grumpy mornings. Hans stayed in bed, only half covered with a blanket, the light of the candle dancing on his golden hair.
Henry brought him water, after drinking some himself. Hans sighed.
"Don't we have wine?"
"Shut up and drink, love."
That seemed to do the trick, because Hans drank obediently, clearly in need of hydration. He laid back down, making space for Henry by his side.
"Are there nice taverns in Kuttenberg?"
Henry smiled softly, getting under the blanket with him. He turned on his side, wanting to see his face as they talked.
"Many, yes. Do you want to visit them?"
"Well, of course. I thought we were planning on sleeping in the city."
"Yes, probably. Coming back at night wouldn't be the safest option."
"Even with you and your sword and Mutt?"
Henry raised his eyebrows, smiling.
"You wanna bring Mutt?"
Hans shrugged.
"I assumed you'd like to take him. I don't mind."
"He loves you to death, you know."
"I know. He also stinks to death."
Henry laughed, shoving him softly in the shoulder.
"Leave my dog alone. He's a loyal friend." He took a big breath, bringing Hans closer. "We can do whatever you want tomorrow."
"You're much more agreeable after a nice fuck."
Henry gasped softly, almost offended. Almost.
"I'm sorry, didn't I offer this trip straight away, as I heard of your dangerous, truly life-threatening boredom?" He turned his head to the side. "And did you say nice? You were complaining through half of it."
Hans rolled his eyes, though a shadow of a smile lingered on his lips.
"Because you're an insolent peasant, and it shows. I am truly cursed with my longing for you. God has punished me for my sins, no doubt."
Henry chuckled into his neck, pulling him closer in one swift motion. His chest grew warmer as he heard Hans' soft exhale in reaction to that.
"You like being someone's."
Hans stayed quiet for a moment, brushing Henry's dark hair.
"Yes."
Henry didn't press further, didn't tease. Hans liked being his, that was enough. One day he'll get those words out of him, in full extent. Now he was content with what he had.
He stroked his side, gently, barely touching the bruised skin for the next few minutes. He pressed his forehead to Hans' collarbone, hearing his stable breathing.
"Are you sure you're alright? I didn't mean to grab you this hard."
Hans nodded, already falling asleep.
"It's alright, sweetheart."
"I love you."
Hans mumbled a wordless response, too exhausted to form sentences anymore. He wrapped his arm around Henry, dead asleep within the next seconds.
He woke up as the sun filled the room, and Henry was getting dressed already, humming a song quietly. God, what a sight for sore eyes.
He sat up, yawning, watching his squire tie his shoes with a smile. Henry looked up at him.
"Good morning. Wear your worst clothes, you need to blend in with the crowd."
Hans rubbed his eyes.
"Straight to the task, I see."
"You know me."
"I do, thank God. I do." Hans stretched, getting up and finding his underwear on the ground. "Do we have some wine left?"
"You can drink in Kuttenberg, now get ready. It's quite a long way from here."
Hans mocked him, still slightly dissatisfied with the rushed morning, but smiled when Henry kissed his shoulder. He was an easily bribed man.
They left the inn before Żiżka could wake up and complain about safety, Henry getting onto Pebbles like it was his second nature, Hans almost falling asleep in his saddle, petting his horse on the neck. He looked up at Henry's back, covered in a black coat, his dark hair moving slightly with the wind. Mutt walked by his side, wagging his tail.
"How many hours away is it?" he asked. Henry looked over his shoulder.
"Four, give or take. Why?" He smirked, that asshole. "Uncomfortable in the saddle, my lord?"
"Go fuck yourself, Hal."
Henry's deep, melodic laughter was worth the discomfort.
And God, did Hans need this. Open sky, clear air, no drunken idiot betting his shoes away in a game of dice, just open space and Henry, smiling, happy Henry in that stupidly nicely fitting coat. Hans might've been exaggerating when he was talking about going insane, but right now it felt rather true in his mind. He hasn't realised how claustrophobic the Devil's Den was. How suffocating, without Henry around.
He watched the blacksmith's silhouette from a few meters away, his broad shoulders and the clear shape of the longsword by his side. His hair, now slightly longer than when they left Rattay. He looked confident in the saddle. Here, in the countryside. He knew the way to Kuttenberg by heart. His smart page.
They stopped to rest halfway through the journey, Henry leading them to a nearby stream between the trees. They left the horses nearby, laid down on the grass. Hans closed his eyes, feeling the sun on his skin.
"Feeling better, my lord?"
He nodded, listening to the soft sounds of the woods and Henry's breathing on his left. The world seemed calm in this place.
He looked at Henry through half-lidded eyes, seeing him sitting with his back pressed to a tree, his eyes focused on the surroundings. Ever alert, as was in his nature.
"Can you sing for me?"
Henry raised his eyebrows, looking back at him.
"Sing? You're spoiled rotten."
Hans smiled softly.
"Please."
"Alright."
And Henry sang, softly, quietly. He chose a popular song worthy of peasants working in the field, of his mother humming over laundry. A song he knew by heart, and kept going back to, and always will. A silly, simple rhyme kids at Skalitz could sing at two years old.
Hans would give him half of Pirkstein if he could.
When they arrived at Kuttenberg, the sun was well up in the sky, rushing the merchants to work, waking up the beggars and nobles. Henry showed him the damn fountain. Hans looked up, with his hands on his waist, eyes focused and lips pressed.
"It's utter shit."
Henry laughed, nodding, inspecting the fountain.
"If not for the water, it would just be an ugly statue. Where's the water coming from?"
"I do not know, Hal."
"It's the middle of the city."
"I am aware. Couldn't they just make something prettier? It's awful. Is there anything nice in this city?"
Henry thought for a moment, scratching his neck. Mutt pissed on the fountain.
"There's this…church they're building."
"Church?"
"A cathedral? I don't know. It's big."
"Show me."
So Henry showed him. That was more plausible on the eyes than the fountain. Hans looked pretty fascinated.
Then, suddenly, there were so many things to do.
Henry took him halfway across the city, to see an armorer, then a tailor, then a butcher for some reason, and everywhere there were new things, and new people, and buildings, clothes, fights in the alleys, and young lovers fleeing their parents. A tournament was taking place on the town's market, and tall, handsome knights fought against each other, and then ugly knights fought against each other. Henry stayed by his side as they watched the duels, and he couldn't be persuaded into taking part in the competition. He could easily take all of them in a fight, but he just watched this time, ignoring Hans' pleas. He stuck to Hans like glue, and it seemed even a good fight and easy groschen couldn't lure him away.
"I can manage for a moment alone, you know." Hans finally said when they left the market. Henry nodded.
"I know."
"You're being annoying."
"I know."
Hans sighed, shaking his head. Alright. No means no, and he couldn't force Henry away if he tried.
They went to a scribe next, as Henry seemed to be in great need of a few books. Hans picked one out for himself and watched him go through the tomes, his hands picking each one up carefully. Was there anything Henry couldn't do? He read like a monk some days, fought like a skilled soldier, hunted like the devil. Loyal as ever, determined, humble, stoic, brave. He was everything Hanush wanted Hans to be.
Hans whispered that he'll wait outside and walked out on the street again. He put his book away into his bag, now feeling silly over choosing a poetry tome. Like that could help him achieve anything.
He scratched Mutt behind his ear, the faithful dog seemed to like that. Trained well, of course.
He was being stupid. He knew that. Rationally. He should be proud of Henry. He was.
The sun was slowly setting, yet the city still troubled his mind with its noise. They ought to find a proper inn and a bed soon.
He ran a hand through his hair, realising his fingers were shaking. His throat was dry. Was he really this tired?
God, Henry was taking forever with those books.
When was the last time Hans had a proper drink? It's been…more than a day, for sure. He drank some wine yesterday. Not a lot. Then Henry came back. They left immediately at dawn. He didn't even drink at the tournament.
He was feeling cold for a second, then it passed. Henry came back, finally, holding three books in his one hand.
"Sorry, took a bit longer than I…"
"Are we going to the inn?"
He blinked, looked up at Hans, hiding his books away.
"Uh, yes, we can. I wanted to show you the Jewish district before we finish our trip. It's really beautiful at night."
"I bet."
He sounded mean, even if he didn't plan on it. Henry frowned, confused.
"If you don't want to…"
Hans sighed, waving his hand impatiently.
"Whatever, we can go, just…come on already."
Henry straightened up, nodding, and he led him through the city alleys, his step steady and firm. Hans scratched his neck and hissed, it was still sensitive after whatever warcrime Henry decided to commit against it last night. The collar of his gambeson mostly covered the marks, but his skin was itchy. He was sweating too much. He barely heard Henry say something about the damn district. Mutt followed them closely, he almost tripped over him.
He looked around, hoping for a merchant or an inn. He didn't realise Henry had asked him something.
"Hans?"
He looked back at him, though his eyes weren't fully focused.
"What?"
"I asked if you like it here. I find this to be the most beautiful district of the city."
"Yes, yes, sure."
Henry blinked at him slowly, his gaze almost cutting. Hans couldn't take it anymore, this silent judging. He exhaled, irritation creeping up his back.
"What is it now?"
"You don't like it."
"I don't like-Henry, I don't care."
He didn't realise what he said until Henry was looking at him with those big, blue eyes, confused beyond comprehension, hurt, and a little angry.
"What's going on? You're being a pain again."
Hans wiped his face with his hands, sighing deeply.
"I'm tired, can we find an inn?"
"You're not drinking tonight."
What…?
What?
Hans huffed, turning his head to the side.
"Excuse me?"
"I said, you're not drinking."
Oh, that fucking insolent peasant.
"You're trying to play a guard again, like back in Rattay?" Hans snorted. "I'll drink if I damn want to."
"No, you won't."
Jesus, why was he like this?
A bright, focused stream of anger rushed through his veins. That cunning prick. All Henry did since coming back was dragging him away from wine, giving him water after sex like Hans was a damn flower, promising drinking in Kuttenberg, then suddenly deciding they had to visit every single shop but a tavern, not leaving his side for a minute all day, then this stupid walk at night, when all Hans wanted was to take the edge off and sleep. He could punch him, he felt his fists forming.
Henry saw that in a second, pulling them inside a dark alley, pushing Hans against the wall. Hans gasped, shocked at the audacity.
"You fucking…!"
"Stop it, Hans. Please." Henry spoke calmly, as if he had prepared for this. "You're drinking too much."
"What's it to you?"
"I love you, asshole."
That made Hans shut up for a second. He heard it so many times before, yet it was always a surprise. As if each time Henry said it, Hans expected it to be the last.
"Just a bit of wine." He tried, looking at Henry with a slight smile, not ever reaching his eyes. "Just a cup. I swear."
"No."
He was trapped between the wall and Henry, he felt dizzy. He never liked small spaces. And he was sweating like a pig, he needed to get out, but Henry held him so firmly, he couldn't move a muscle.
"Hal, let me go."
Henry shook his head.
"I want you sober, Hans."
"I can't breathe."
"That won't work on me."
He seriously couldn't breathe.
He wasn't sure what happened after. He remembered looking at Henry and breathing quickly, as if the air didn't fully got to his lungs on each inhale, then he felt cold in his head, then he couldn't see.
His ears were ringing, he felt like throwing up.
"Hans? Hans, God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, can you hear me? Hans!"
He was on the ground, suddenly, his back pressed to the stone wall of the building. They left the alley. Henry was kneeling by his side, holding his face in his hands. Mutt was tugging at Hans' shoe with his paw, squeaking quietly.
"Hans, I'm sorry. I didn't realise it was that tight in there."
He was pale as ever, Henry let go of his face, gave him water. Hans ignored the idea of pouring it all over the man and accepted the gift, drinking.
Some people passed them, shaking their heads. Mumbling words of harsh meanings and misunderstandings. They thought he was a drunk, passed out on the street. He wasn't a drunk. He was just tired.
He gave Henry the water back, sniffing. He looked at him and almost melted under the amount of worry in his eyes.
"Are you feeling better?"
He nodded. Mutt laid his head on his lap. He petted the dog's head.
Henry looked down, scratched Mutt under his chin.
"Good boy, Mutt. He's alright. Don't worry."
Mutt didn't seem to be convinced, as he still stayed close to Hans, hoping his presence was enough to help. Hans smiled softly. Maybe it was.
Henry sat down next to him, his knees bent, his head resting on the wall behind them. Minutes went by. The night grew colder.
Hans swallowed his pride, still petting Mutt on the head.
"I don't drink that much."
Henry didn't look at him, his eyes locked on the empty street.
"You have a problem, Hans."
"No, I…"
"I grew up around drunks in Skalitz, okay? My dad hated booze, but my neighbours…half of them were always asleep with their head in a wine vase. Kunesh developed a hatred for everyone after his wife died, and gave me a beating when I asked for money he owed us, which he never even remembered doing. The butcher's son drowned at his friend's wedding, trying to fish out a barrel he dropped into the river. I'm not letting you do this to yourself."
Hans stayed quiet, scratching Mutt's fuzzy chin. He bowed his head, still feeling quite dizzy, and now nauseous, after those stories.
"I wouldn't let it get that bad."
"You wouldn't know it was that bad until I'd find you unconscious in some ditch."
Hans snorted, offended.
"I'm not that sort of a drunk, I just…"
"I can't loose you too, God dammit."
He looked away, his lips pressed together.
No one said anything anymore. Mutt almost fell asleep on his lap.
Henry sighed, standing up. He offered his hand.
"Come on. Let's find us a room."
Hans accepted the help, stood up, and straightened his clothes. Mutt shook his head, sleepy.
Henry found the nearest tavern, paid for their room, and some bread and dried meat. Hans stood by the stairs, waiting with his eyes glued to the floor. He could smell the wine, the party all around him. He decided to pet Mutt again.
Henry led them to the room with one window and two beds, locked the door behind them. Mutt jumped onto one of the beds, snuggling into the covers, forming a circle with his lean body. Hans unbuttoned his gambeson slowly, looking down, silent.
"Do you want some bread?"
He looked at Henry briefly.
"No, thank you."
He still wanted a drink. He could feel the burning need in the back of his skull, screaming at him for waiting so long. He was intoxicated in some way since he was thirteen. Seven, eight years now. He was sweating again.
He could feel Henry's hands on his waist before he even heard him approaching. Henry kissed the back of his neck, holding him gently.
"I'm sorry for making you faint."
Hans exhaled, shaking his head softly.
"Not your fault."
"Let me help. Please."
He swallowed hard, turning around in his arms. He hid his face in his neck, shaking slightly.
"I feel awful, Hal."
"I know."
"I'm so cold, yet I'm sweating. I can't even think about eating."
Henry nodded, kissing his head.
"It will pass."
He held onto his shoulders, while a terrifying realisation came down on him. When they first kissed, he was drunk. When they first touched each other, he was drunk. The first time he told Henry he wanted him, he was barely standing.
Henry barely knew him sober.
He choked on a breath, tears falling from his eyes, wetting Henry's coat.
"I'm sorry, Henry. I'm so sorry."
Henry just held him closer.
"Shh. You're scaring Mutt."
Hans laughed, still crying. It was true, Mutt's ears popped up, alarmed.
"Sorry."
"It's alright. Let's get you to bed."
He let Henry do it all, undress him, make him lay down, make him drink water and eat just a little bit of bread. He was exhausted by the time Henry laid down next to him, both of them barely fitting on the small bed.
He calmed down after some time. He could still hear the party downstairs.
"I liked the Jewish district." He said quietly, as Henry stroke his back with his hand, up and down, tracing his skin with his fingers.
"Yes? Really?"
He nodded.
"Well then, I'm glad."
Hans swallowed, his face pressed into Henry's neck.
"I love you, you do know that?" he whispered.
"Yes, of course."
"I really do."
Henry kissed his forehead.
"I know. Get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."
Hans nodded, and fell asleep. He did feel better in the morning. Even with Mutt jumping onto their bed and waking them up too early, he felt a bit better.
He was loved. He got this.