Birthday present for my love ^^

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. The pain never lessens T_T

Please enjoy and happy reading everyone!

The sun burned. The summer heat, harsh and sticky, refused to relent. Sitting beneath the protective shade of a large oak tree, Soren pushed his dark bangs from his face, scowling distastefully as the locks were matted to his forehead by the sweat that ceased to drip down his temple.

The heat truly was unbearable. The problem was that there was no place to escape it. The humidity in the air made it harder to breathe and his white tunic stuck to his back. He was terribly uncomfortable, despite the short sleeves and his long hair being tied up and off his neck. And though he was thankful for the tree and the shade it provided, nothing was helping make the situation he was in any better. The only option he had now was to sit under the tree in discomfort and read the book he had bought from Melior on a visiting trip with Ike. He had hoped (truly hoped) that if he kept his mind distracted, then maybe the heat would be more bearable. But his mind was having trouble focusing on the words written in the book, his eyes mistaking the black letters and the ink appearing to be smudged into illegible words.

With a defeated sigh, Soren shut the book in his hands. He was just glad that there were no requests for the mercenary group's help for the day. Still, that didn't mean that there wasn't work to do. Oscar had been mentioning for quite a while now that they needed to get the wood for the winter chopped while it was warm enough to do it. He had requested Boyd's help, but the axe wielder had escaped along with Rolf, Mist, and even Rhys to head down to the river for a swim.

"I'll help," Ike said to Oscar who was muttering about irresponsible brothers. The green haired man smiled in return. "Thanks Ike." Even though he was grateful for the commander's offer to help, he would have expected the man to childishly sneak off along with his brothers. Perhaps Ike had matured more than he had originally imagined over the years.

The two were outside by the pile of large pieces of chopped tree trunks that were waiting to be halved and quartered into more reasonable sizes.

Soren, sitting beneath the tree, was directly across from the two men. His crimson eyes, observing and calculating, were hooked on Ike as the axe was swung over his head, cleanly slicing one piece of wood in half. His gaze was intense and he scolded himself in his head that it was rude to stare and for a brief moment, he worried about being caught. But his eyes were trained, watching Ike's shapely biceps stretch and contract as the axe was swung over and over. He applauded his good eye sight, as he was able to see the shimmering beads of sweat that trickled down the side of his lover's neck. He was embarrassed by the urge he had to flick his tongue across the exposed skin and taste the salty droplets.

Had his face been deprived of its rosy color due to the heat, he'd surely have one heck of a blush right now. Almost disgusted by his lewd behavior, the sage did his best to turn his attention back to his book which was doing little to catch his attention. He was too in-tune and distracted by the nature surrounding; the buzzing of the cicadas, the sound of the wood splitting as the axe sliced through it, the glaring sun that caused his sensitive eyes to squint, the heat itself distorting his vision with barely visible heat waves. It was as if he was forced to take notice to everything that was going on, as though all of his senses were heightened.

His eyes caught every flicker of movement. When Ike suddenly moved out of his rhythm of chopping wood, he couldn't help but to look up to observe what had made him stop. Oscar too, had stopped for a break, readjusting the short sleeves of his tunic. Ike looked completely uncomfortable, opening his mouth to say something. "It's damn hot out here," he said and scowled in annoyance as he set his axe down and pulled at his own tunic. From Soren's view, it looked to be soaked with sweat, which was appropriate, seeing as he was working in the sun.

Ike, fed up with his clothing, stripped from his shirt and flung it off to the side. He pushed his headband up and down his forehead a few times, collecting the sweat there before letting out a long sigh. Oscar had moved to start stacking the already chopped pieces of wood to the existing pile that had dwindled spectacularly after a rather harsh winter. Ike picked up the axe once more, set a new target up and swung.

Soren wasn't aware of his mouth having parted very slightly. He was forced to set his book aside as his palms grew sweaty. He didn't want to ruin the pages. Now his calculating eyes scanned the man's profile from the bead of sweat that trailed down Ike's cheek before dropping off his strong jaw. Had his eyes yielded the same power as Janaff's, he was sure he'd see a strained tendon in that smooth neck. But seeing the ripple of Ike's biceps and the muscles beneath the gleaming skin of his broad back made Soren swallow dryly. He really was parched.

He needed to escape, he thought, before he was caught. It wasn't dignified to stare so shamelessly and briefly he worried that Ike would be upset if he noticed Soren staring at him like he was prey. Well, he wouldn't be needing his book any longer. It had failed as a distraction. Perhaps there was some kind of work to be done inside. And some water sounded good, too.

As he stood, Soren pushed his bangs back again, upset with the small wisps that couldn't be tied back. It would probably be better if he took his boots off inside and let the stone floor cool his feet. He didn't own any short breeches like Rolf had and he wouldn't like to, but this abysmal heat was doing evil things with his mind and he was suddenly contemplating investing in a pair. He shook the thought away. He was small, skinny and pale and preferred to be covered. Someone with Ike's physique, of course, could parade around naked without a care, built the way he was.

Truly evil things.

The mess hall was expectedly empty when he entered through the door. Soren unlaced his boots and slipped the footwear off. The stone was cool beneath his soles and pleasantly clean, having been swept that morning by Mist. He set his book down on one of the table.

There were clay jugs behind the prep counter where the rest of the food supplies resided. The jugs were regularly filled with water. It would have been sensible for the others to have taken them along to be refilled at the river.

After testing each of the three jugs, Soren took up the one that seemed to have the least water. Uncharacteristic to himself, he couldn't be bothered with a cup at the moment; he lifted the jug to his lips, doing his best to drink while keeping his lips from touching the rim.

"Refined Soren, stooping to the desperation of a drink."

It took every ounce of control within him not to spray water nor spit it back into the jug. His muscles tensed and he forced the mouthful of water down his throat with a painful gulp. When Soren could finally breathe again, he lowered the water jug, prepared himself for Ike's amused smirk, and worked up a good glare. It was not nice to sneak up on someone, but what bothered Soren most was how in the world Ike was able to sneak up on him in the first place. Ike wasn't renowned for his grace, or lack thereof, and even when he walked about the fort barefoot, his footfalls were noticeable from the small thumb each step entailed.

Still not saying anything, Soren turned to glare when the water jug was stripped from his hands and Ike, still shirtless with shining skin, wrapped his lips right around the rim and greedily gulped the water down. He then finished with a satisfied sigh and grinned mysteriously at Soren. The sage, in turn, was confused by the amusement and knowing shining in those blue eyes. His eyes narrowed suspiciously and he took the jug back, setting it on the floor.

"It's rather rude to sneak up on someone." Soren's tone was even and he refused to let any bit of his annoyance trickle into his voice. Finally, he faced Ike who didn't let his smile falter. It seemed to grow with his words.

"Rather rude to stare at someone, too, huh?"

The water in Soren's stomach seemed to freeze and turn to ice. He remained composed, perhaps trying to think of a way to throw the comment off nonchalantly. He panicked just bit, wondering just when Ike had taken notice to his staring. Or had he truly noticed. Perhaps this was just a rouse, a farfetched, loosely gripped comment to retaliate Soren's words. And Ike wasn't the most observant of men and Soren was sure his stare was somewhat subtle. Somewhat.

Plus, he had never caught the man's eye looking back. That signaled that Ike couldn't possibly have known of his staring without having caught him in the act.

The kiss on his neck surprised him further, and he then pondered how he had failed to notice Ike moving to stand before him. He fell in the man's shadow, toes curling into stone when the hot mouth by his ear whispered, "You're unnaturally distracted today. Too much heat?" Not that your close proximity is helping, Soren thought. His voice was caught in his throat which was being kissed yet again.

He always seemed to lose sense of what he was doing when he was close to Ike. He hated how easily unraveled he become from this one man but at the same time he reveled in these moments. But he couldn't help when his eyes flicked nervously to the doorway. Ike noticed, saying, "Oscar went to gather everyone for lunch. It's a quarter marks time just to walk to the river. It'll be a while." A bite to the ear and Soren felt bigger, stronger hands grasp his own. "Now tell me what had captured such an intense gaze from you outside." Those hands were moving his own, leading them forward. Soren felt hard muscle fall beneath his fingers, skin sticky with residing moisture and feeling very hot. He felt heat creep up his neck and bit his tongue.

"It couldn't have been all of this, could it?" Ike could be a foolhardy, reckless speaker in front of nobles, but privately, intimately, he seemed to know the right words that made Soren tick. He wasn't overtly perverse, nor was he ridiculously sappy. A fine smoothness threaded into the words he spoke and more than once Soren feared where he learned to talk in such a manner.

With a deep breath Soren closed his eyes, pressing his palms a bit more firmly against that hard chest, all the while his tongue peaked out to moisten his lips. "You're much nicer when business is slow. More relaxed," Ike spoke. One hand thread into the high ponytail, fingering the ribbon that tied his dark hair. "And it's nice to see your face. It's not hidden behind your hair." A kiss to each cheek and again Soren glanced apprehensively toward the door. He couldn't decide what to do with his hands; whether move them up towards Ike's shoulders for better support or drop them lower to the planes of abdominal muscles. He then warred against himself when a suckling mouth nipped at a spot just below his jaw. However good it felt, he was afraid of having to hide a love bite later on. He wasn't keen on awkward questions.

But with a particularly hard bite that send tingles through his stomach and lower, he didn't fight against the hand that cupped the back of his head and maneuvered it to the side as his neck was better exposed. "Laguz do this, don't they?" Ike questioned, mouth still lingering over pale skin. "I heard they bite their mates and leave a mark." Soren would prefer to hear none of it, but Ike had insisted he embrace the laguz inside of him. He would much rather not. "Ranulf told me the mark is like a sign of possession. Too bad I don't have fangs, I could mark you properly." He bit down again causing pain and a small sound of protest to fall from Soren's lips.

His palms were too sweaty and his shirt was sticking uncomfortably to his back. He had decided he needed support and wrapped his arms around Ike's shoulders and shuddered when a hand turned his face up and Ike finally kissed his lips. Slow wet kisses, not ravaging but passionate all the same and for the first time Soren wasn't worried about someone walking in. Their bodies pressed close, feeling too much like an inferno and it was uncomfortable but good and pleasant and hot. Fingertips danced across his neck and Soren shivered but carded his fingers in Ike's blue hair which was moist with sweat but still soft.

When they parted for air nerves bundled in Soren's throat once more as Ike's hands moved along his hips, skirting his flat stomach and fingering the tie of Soren's pants. "No," the sage hissed. "They'll be back any moment."

"Soren, you know as well as I do Boyd and Rolf wouldn't comply with Oscar asking them to get out of the water. We have time." And he hooked his thumbs over the waist of the pants, ready to lower them till he reached his goal.

But the noise outside the door had him stop. He felt Soren go absolutely rigid and hurriedly straightened up, taking his hands back. He watched as Soren took a few steps away and turned abruptly to face the shelves of cooking ware.

"Where's Oscar?" Shinon called as he walked into the mess hall. Gatrie trailed behind, both of them donning rosy cheeks though whether that was from the heated weather was up for debate. Soren refused to face the pair and Ike struck a casual pose that gave no indication as to what they had just previously been up to. Yet, Soren thought, Ike was still shirtless, suspicious enough, and from the small pulses of pain on his neck, Ike had succeeded in leaving a mark. One sure to be visible on his pale skin.

"He went to gather everyone for lunch," Ike spoke. He tried to keep going, asking, "How was the pub?"

Shinon eyed Ike suspiciously, as it wasn't normal for Ike to ask such a question. He had made it clear to the boy over the years that what he did was his business. "Same broads and the ale got warm pretty quick." And his eyes roamed toward Soren who was still standing rather upright which was common for the sage yet there was something off about his stance. Like he was trying to hide something. Gatrie, who was like a bloodhound when it came to anything revolving around romance and intimacy was finding it difficult not to grin as he understood what he and his friend walked into. Shinon must have finally noticed as well, as a small scoff came from him.

"Let's go see what's taking them so long," Ike said to Soren. The sage made no comment and turned sharply on his heel and rushed past the two intruders, bypassing his boots and stepping outside barefoot. Ike hurried after him with a small wave and stepped out the door.

Gatrie finally laughed softly while Shinon rolled his eyes. "If I wanted to see kids getting off, I'd have stayed at the pub. At least I could get drunk then."

Happy birthday XD