#guys stop i don't even know what sorvus is

[m4rs-ex3]

soren ₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

"i know how you feel. he’s cruel, but you don’t have to be.”

☼.⋆｡𖦹 °˖

(req by @ethereal-maia)

[sorinethemastermind]

Only One Tent

You've heard of the only one bed trope, but what about only one tent and no bed? Aka the "Yes, you can use me as a pillow" prompt won the poll. #Sorvus

 Soren had shared a tent with Corvus before. One of the first things King Ezran had done after reclaiming the throne had been to travel across Katolis; visiting every town and hamlet, no matter how small. Soren had accompanied him, of course. It was his duty as a Crownguard to ensure that the king remained safe. And though Corvus hadn't been a member of the guard at the time, he had traveled with them anyway. Their trusty guide to the woods and wilds of Katolis.

 He was such a tree guy. It was kind of cute.

 For the first week or so of their travels Corvus had insisted on sleeping outside, saying that the stars made a better roof than a canvas tent. Soren had tried to point out that the whole thing with stars was that there was no roof, but Corvus had just rolled his eyes and claimed that he was missing the point. 

 However as they'd traveled further north the nights had become colder, and eventually even Corvus had been forced to admit that the stars didn’t trap heat as well as good old canvas. So Soren had offered to share his tent with him. And, though he'd declined the offer at first, it hadn't been long before the pair of them were pressed back to back in Soren's tent, savoring each other's warmth as the snow fell outside. It had been warm, cozy, and wonderful.

 And somehow less uncomfortable and awkward than whatever it was they were doing now.

 Soren glanced over at Corvus from his side of the tent. The other man sat on the opposite side of the small canvas room, knees drawn up to his chest and arms folded. As much distance between them as there could be in the cramped little space.

 Soren cleared his throat. "Don't you think we should be helping? I feel like we should be helping."

 "King Ezran told you to rest." Corvus reminded him, barely sparing him a glance. Soren wondered if it was because of how many times he'd had to say that, or if it was something else. Like, maybe, he didn't know; the fact that they had kissed twenty minutes ago and the king had walked in on it.

 "But don't you think-"

 "King Ezran." Corvus repeated, putting extra emphasis on the words this time." Told you to rest."

 Soren let out a loud hmph. Ezran had said a lot of things. Like how the destruction of Katolis wasn't his fault. And how there was nothing more he could have done. And how the people were lucky to have had him there when they did. And those just obviously weren't true. So then, maybe he didn't need to rest either?

 "Why don't you get some sleep?" Corvus urged him gently, shifting a little bit closer. Soren looked up at him through the curtain of blond hair that had fallen across his face. He hadn't realized his head was drooping. 

 Straightening up, he rolled his shoulders. "Nah, I'm fine."

 "You haven't slept in nearly two days."

 "But." Soren pointed out. "I have drunk more hot brown morning potion in those two days than any other. So I'm wide awake! Really, we shouldn't even be in here. We should be out helping."

 He began to reach for the tent flap, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. His friend's - boyfriend's? - grip squeezed slightly as he spoke.

 "Soren. Are you okay?"

 The question caught him off guard.

 No. He was not okay. But people didn’t usually ask so he didn’t usually have to lie. Anyway, what did it matter? He was used to it. It would be weirder if he was okay at this point. Was anybody ever really okay, anyway? 

 "Yeah. Of course." Soren flashed a wide smile in Corvus' direction. "Why wouldn't I be?"

 "Because..." Corvus trailed off, too many reasons to name them all. "I'm just worried about you."

 Soren paused, his smile faltering. Then it was replaced by a smaller, genuine one. “You don’t need to be… Corvy?”

 Something in Corvus’ expression told him this nickname wouldn't stick any better than the others he had tried. 

“Alright, not Corvy.” he said. “How about-”

 “How about you rest like the king ordered?”

 “Fineee.” Soren groaned, letting the tent flap drop from his hand. “Just for an hour.”

 He flopped back down onto the ground, feeling the corners of his armor jab into his sides, the sticks and stones littering the dirt floor of the tent poking into his back. The saying should have been sticks and stones can break my bones, and they sure as heck make it impossible to sleep too.

 For a split second he wished he had accepted the bedroll Opeli offered him, if only so that Corvus wouldn’t be stuck lying on the cold, stony ground. But the selfish thought fled just as quickly as it had come. The hospital needed them more. He would have given them this tent too, had Opeli not insisted it was too small to be of any use. 

 And it was small. Corvus laid down on the ground beside him, the forced proximity making their shoulders bump. Not that Soren was mad about that. He tried to stop wiggling, for Corvus’ sake. If he needed rest, then his friend - partner? - definitely did. He’d ridden for days just to get here, and now was worried about him? 

 But knowing that they both needed to rest didn’t seem to make sleep any more attainable, and they both spent the next ten minutes staring at the canvas roof above them, eyes wide open, elbows and shoulders gently bumping into one another each time they moved. Unable to do anything else without disturbing Corvus, Soren had to be content simply wiggling his toes. Which, he realized after a moment, were sticking slightly out of the tent. It really was small. Or he was just big. It was probably that last one. He was a prime physical specimen, after all.  

 "What are you doing?" Corvus asked, rolling onto his side to look over at Soren.

 “I, uh, nothing. I’m resting.”

 Corvus didn’t seem convinced, so Soren rolled over to face him so he could properly explain why this should count as resting and now they could get up and go help. The words died on his lips when he realized that, in this new position, their faces were mere inches apart. Corvus’s hair tickled his forehead and their noses bumped as he shifted.

 “Really?” Corvus asked, his breath warm on Soren’s face. 

 Soren reached out and poked his nose.

 “What was that for?” Corvus asked, sitting up in his surprise.

 “It was right there, what did you want me to do!?” Soren asked, rolling onto his back to look up at him, blowing the hair out of his face. 

 Corvus blinked a few times, the color in his cheeks deepening. Then he looked away. “What are we, Soren?”

 Soren’s heart dropped and he sat up, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked over at his friend of two years. “I, uh. What do you want to be?”

 He knew what he wanted. And for a second there, when they’d kissed, he’d thought maybe that was what they were now. That maybe they were a thing. But the way he’d asked that… now he wasn’t so sure.

 Corvus took a deep breath and let it out slowly before replying. “I thought that maybe… maybe it was just the adrenalin, or the rush of having survived. Of both of us being okay. But what I would like is for it to have been… more than that.”

 Corvus looked at him, his eyes kind and smiling in that way Soren loved so much.

 “Corvus. We almost die, like, every day.” he pointed out. “And we’ve never done that before.”

 “But-”

 He stopped him with a quick kiss, which became a few kisses, and he felt that addressed Corvus’ concerns pretty well. 

“So… can I tell everyone that you’re my boyfriend now?” he asked, finally drawing back. 

 Corvus lay back down on the ground, crossing his forearms behind his head as a kind of makeshift cushion. “I suppose you can.”

 “Yes!” Soren flopped onto the ground beside him, punching a fist in the air. “I guess we already sort of told Ezran.”

 “I can’t believe…” Corvus trailed off, shifting so that he could pinch the bridge of his nose with one hand as he closed his eyes. He sighed. “What’s done is done.”

 “Yep!” Soren said cheerily, not feeling a drop of regret. “He was going to find out eventually.”

 He shifted uncomfortably on the uneven, stony ground. He’d forgotten how jabby it was. A stone pressed into the back of his head and he sat up, shoved it away, and laid back down. And just as quickly sat back up. 

 “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lie on you. I can move over.”

 “That would sort of defeat the point of me putting my arm there.” Corvus said, and Soren realized that it hadn’t been an accident. Corvus scooted a little closer, stretching his arm out further towards him. 

 “You hurt your head, Soren. The last thing we need is you banging it against a rock.”

 “So… you’re saying that I should use you as a pillow.”

 “Yes. I am a pillow.”

 “And you’re a pillow… for my health?”

 “What else would it be for?”

 Soren just smiled and lay back down, resting his head gingerly on Corvus’ proffered arm. One of the perks of working out, it seemed, was that muscles could double as pillows. More people should tell you that. He would have to keep it in mind. 

 Corvus rested his other arm across his chest, fingers absently playing with a torn edge on Soren’s armor. Curled up together in the warm closeness of the tent, Soren finally felt himself relax. He hadn’t realized how on edge he’d been until it all washed away. 

 Sure, he had a lot of work to do and there were people out there that needed helping. But he could take a couple minutes to shut his eyes, and just listen to the sound of Corvus’ slow breathing beside him, and the rustle of the tent in the wind.

 Anyway, Corvus needed to rest, and if Soren got up to go and help out around camp he was sure to follow. So really, the only way to make sure that his boyfriend got some sleep was to get some himself. 

 Soren closed his eyes, letting himself relax for the first time in at least two days, probably longer, and with a stifled yawn sleep took him.