Mako slides the door shut behind him. "Hey."
Bolin's sprawled on his back, still fully clothed. "Hey," he says, and waits for Mako to scoot through the narrow space between their beds and settle on the end near the pillow before he sits up. "So Asami's in bed?"
"Yeah," says Mako, tugging off a shoe.
Bolin raises his eyebrows, smirking a little. "And you're not with her?"
Mako pauses to give him a look that turns into more of a glare than he intends – because wow, okay, that's my little brother and that's definitely none of his business and we've been out all night and we'reguests here, Bo, this isn't our home, we're lucky to have a place to sleep, have some respect, would you – but Bolin bumps his knuckles against the side of Mako's knee with that soft kind of apology in his eyes (didn't mean to wake you, go back to sleep); the ridges of his bones don't seem so hard anymore and his mouth closes and the words choke before they have the chance to properly form.
"Relax, bro, I'm just teasing," he says (quiet, a summer lullaby, the last thing he hears before the sun falls out of the sky).
He sighs, nods, rolls his shoulders and rubs the back of his neck, unties the scarf so it's dangling loose and tugs it off, setting it next to him. Like always, Bolin takes the cue from him and starts undressing, too, and their legs keep bumping because this room isn't meant for two beds (watch it, be quiet, don't wake up, stay down, please, please),but they've never learned how to sleep without one another and Mako thinks it's almost funny, or at least different, for sure – it's the middle of winter and they don't have to wear every piece of clothing they own, they're not curled up on frozen concrete and brick, there are blankets on these beds that aren't tattered and dirty and damp and moth-eaten – and the best part, or maybe the most different, is that they didn't even have to ask.
Not that they would have, but still.
Mako's watching him when Bo winces, struggling to shrug out of his jacket, and he remembers his heart dropping into his stomach and his name tearing from his throat (are we gonna be okay? we're brothers) and has to look away for a second, glancing sideways.
"How's, uh," he says, and Bolin's sitting just as stiff as him and staring so he's probably right. "How's your shoulder?"
"My shoulder?" says Bolin, even as his hand drifts up to grip it.
Don't play dumb, he thinks, but instead: "Yeah, I – I noticed that chi-blocker got you there, earlier, and I thought – well, that's the shoulder you hurt in the tournament, right?"
"It's fine," and he sighs, too heavy and too old, meeting his gaze head-on, but his hand tightens and after a moment Mako makes the short transfer over to his bed anyway.
He rubs his hands together, scars on one palm scraping against the other, breathing into them and placing them on his brother's shoulder, inhaling again – control, restraint, and breath, they're all he's ever been taught – on the exhale he stokes the fire still simmering in his gut from the night's outing – he supposes he can call it their patrol – and the sparks still crackling beneath his fingernails. The heat spreads through him, boils in his blood until it reaches his hands, stopping just beneath the surface of his skin; he can feel them warm up against Bolin's shoulder, seeping into the muscles and burning the tension out of them as he lets himself sag, leaning into him. Applying a little more pressure, they're silent and Mako's eyes keep flicking from his fingers up to Bolin's, closed, until he straightens up and pulls away and stretches his arm out in front of him, twisting to test it.
Mako's already on his own bed and pulling the sheets back when Bo says, "Hey, Mako?"
Another pause.
"Thanks."
And he might not see it, but he smiles. "Anytime, bro."
notes from me: i wrote this back for bromotions week way back in... AUGUST LOL but i've gotten really behind on posting my fic here (and i was bored, to be honest) SO HERE THIS IS in all its episode 8 behind-the-scenes, these-brothers-are-so-sad-they-moved-two-beds-into -one-room-i'm-gonna-die glory.
speaking of being behind on posting fic, i'm sorry about that, i know i said i was gonna catch up on that in, uh, january (OOPS) but that... obviously didn't happen, so i'm gonna try to be better about that - not that i've been writing a lot, actually. when i'm not at school, i'm usually either stressing out about a test or sleeping, which doesn't leave a lot of time for writing and/or staying mentally stable, so.
and uh YEAH! that's about all i've got to say about that. it's 3 am. i'm going to bed. thanks for reading, as always, dudes.