AN: So I was intending to write another chapter for my other story, Sparring, but I was at a loss as to where to go next. While I was brainstorming I thought about how few Tormod/Sothe fics there are and got an idea for a short oneshot. The "short" oneshot ended up taking over 2,500 words. Oops. Anyway, this is supposed to be just a simple, slightly fluffy, more angsty than I intended oneshot about Tormod and Sothe. Hope someone else out there actually likes this pairing and enjoys this! :)

Set during Radiant Dawn, could be during Part I or later when everyone is merged. Hope that the shifting focuses aren't too confusing. Italics are either emphasis, a flashback or a character's thoughts. If you're confused or catch any typos (I typed this at 1 AM), send me a review and I'll clarify.

Warnings: A little cursing, shonen-ai.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem. If I did, the Radiant Dawn support system would not be so f'ed up.

Enjoy!

Sothe was just walking through the camp, back to his tent when he heard a "Bang!" His tent lit up, illuminating the figure of his tentmate, whose voice could just barely be heard through the canvas.

"Shit."

Tormod was screwed. Done for. When Sothe saw what he had done, Tormod's days of practicing magic, setting things on fire, and generally causing mayhem would be over. Because Sothe was going to kill him. It didn't matter that they had become close friends during the Mad King's War and were now tentmates. It didn't matter that Tormod considered Sothe his best friend other than Maurim, who was more like his father. And it certainly didn't matter that Tormod had been quite shocked at just how…hot…his friend had gotten over the years. Not that Sothe knew that.

Nope, none of that mattered. Because any second, the rogue was going to return and find something of his charred to a crisp.

His bed, to be exact.

Besides the fact that Sothe's cot had been reduced to a pile of ashes, there was also the question of where he would sleep. Tormod could offer his bed, but if he were dead by the night, it wouldn't be a problem. And if he were, miraculously, still breathing then there would be the thought of…sharing.

Which would be a problem for many, many reasons.

The first being that Tormod thought he would probably enjoy it. Which would not be ok. Sure, his best friend was attractive, but he was always around that girl Micaiah. It was pretty much assumed that they were together. Micaiah was a girl, so Sothe must be straight. And even if he were, um, bisexual, he'd still be with Micaiah.

Tormod had considered all of this multiple times in the weeks he had been with the Dawn Brigade. And he figured that he just had to not show that he was attracted to men. Specifically, the one man who slept in his tent. Yeah, it sucked. Tormod had gotten used to the angst. He was naturally cheerful enough that angst could only hold him for so long. However, he had recently begun taking out his frustration with extensive fire magic practice. Hence the burnt bed.

Well, he would just have to sleep on the floor. That's all. Just sleep on the floor. For as long as they were on the road. Every night. (Because it probably wasn't going to be easy to buy another bed, especially as the fire sage had no money.)

Tormod did not like that plan.

Maybe Sothe would sleep on the floor. He's tough, he grew up on the streets. He'll probably be all stoic and silent and offer to use the floor. But then Tormod would feel guilty for hogging the bed when his friend was sleeping on the floor because of the sage's mistake.

Damn. That wouldn't do either.

Or Tormod could go share with Maurim. The tiger slept outside anyway and Tormod had been using his surrogate father as a cushion for most of his life. Which is why he was so clingy in his sleep-another reason why he could not share with Sothe. But Maurim had told him to share with a beorc and get to know someone his own age. Maurim would make him stay and apologize to Sothe.

Tormod rapidly tried to think of another plan before Sothe returned. Unfortunately, at that moment the tent flap opened almost noiselessly as the rogue entered their room. Nobody but Tormod and Micaiah could ever hear Sothe entering a room.

"Um, hey Sothe! How are you? Nice day, isn't it? Have you been training? What do…" Tormod started babbling in an attempt to cover up his guilt. If he were dealing with anyone else, it might have worked. Most people tuned out the energetic young man's babbling, but Sothe and Maurim could always tell when he was hiding something.

"Tormod." Sothe gave the fire sage a stony glare. Tormod sheepishly looked at his own feet as he shut up, refusing to meet the rogue's eyes. "What happened to my bed?"

"Heh heh," Tormod laughed nervously. "Funny story, I was practicing magic…"

"In the tent?"

Tormod fidgeted and tugged at his collar. "Well, yes. And as I cast a spell, your bed just happened to be in the way."

Sothe said nothing, which only made Tormod even more uneasy.

"Please don't kill me Sothe! It was an accident! I'm sooooooo sorry!" Tormod started running off apologies.

Sothe again said nothing, but turned on his heel and left the tent.

"Shitshitshit!" Tormod trembled in fear before running off to ask Maurim for advice and potentially protection from Sothe's knives.

As soon as Sothe got out of sight of his ten, he dropped his stony façade. And laughed.

Yes, you heard that right. When the usually serious rogue walked into Micaiah's tent, he was breathless from laughter.

Sothe hadn't wanted to laugh at Tormod in front of him. The sage was already touchy about being short and wouldn't take well to being mocked. So Sothe had gone off to relate the incident to his foster sister and oldest friend.

"Ok. What did Tormod do this time?" Micaiah asked in a calmly amused tone. Whenever Tormod did something, she was the first to know. Sothe had gotten in the habit of talking to her every night before they retired to their respective tents, but lately his topic of choice was always the same: Tormod.

Micaiah, being part heron, was very attuned to emotions and was aware that Sothe was attracted to the sage for weeks before the rogue figured it out. Even then she had to help him along.

Flashback

"And today Tormod burned another one of his tomes and singed Maurim's fur. His face was so red from trying not to laugh." Sothe was giving Micaiah the daily Tormod report.

Micaiah inwardly rolled her eyes. Was he really so oblivious that he didn't notice how animated he was when speaking about the little sage, how his face lit up at the thought of the other man's daily shenanigans? It was ridiculous, because Tormod clearly was attracted to Sothe. It was a fairly easy matter for the attuned silver haired maiden to read the sage's hidden glances at her foster brother.

Time to enlighten my dear, oblivious brother.

"Poor Tormod. He was probably embarrassed. But he probably looked so adorable with his face all red!" Micaiah choose the word carefully, noting Sothe's flush with satisfaction.

"I suppose. I didn't notice." Sothe lied, avoiding Micaiah's eyes.

He really should have known that he couldn't lie to his first friend. Micaiah assumed that he was still in denial, pushing away his feelings because they were so alien.

Alright, let's go for direct.

"Sothe, I've known you since you were tiny. I know when you're lying and I can tell that you like Tormod. You know what I mean by like. If you haven't figured out by now that your face lights up whenever you see him fry someone's stuff with his magic, then it's time for a wake up call. Now you can either talk to me about it or go figure this out alone, but there will be no more denial."

Sothe looked mildly shocked at her outburst. He furrowed his brow as she spoke, blushing as he avoided her gaze. She saw him thinking, finally coming to a realization.

"Damn. I'm in love with a man." Sothe looked confused, but also certain. It all made sense now.

"Yep. But don't worry, it gets easier from here once you realize how you feel."

"Micaiah, have you ever been in love?"

For once, she was the one to avert her eyes. "I'm not sure."

"Pelleas?"

Micaiah's reddening face told him the answer even before she gave a slight nod. "I think so."

"Well then, we can be lovesick together."

End flashback

After Sothe had made the initial realization that his feelings for Tormod were more than platonic, he became more relaxed. Sothe needed to know what was going on, and although he didn't think that Tormod returned the sentiment, he went about his business as normal, only venting at night to Micaiah.

"He burned my bed."

Micaiah took a moment to process this information, then burst out laughing as well.

"Well, then go sleep in his."

Sothe reddened at her suggestion, because the idea was actually very appealing. Micaiah laughed harder.

Tormod ran up to his surrogate father, who was conversing with Nolan.

"Maurim! IburnedSothe'sbedbyaccidentandnowhe'sgonnakillme!" Tormod's words spilled out in a rush.

Maurim smiled fondly. Although his young charge had not actually told him, the tiger could tell that Tormod was very attracted to Sothe. Laguz could smell these things, and he knew Tormod better than anyone else at camp. He also could tell that Sothe felt the same way, but he kept his silence. Let the boys figure it out on their own.

"Patience, Little One. Please slow down and tell me what happened."

Tormod took a deep breath. "I burned Sothe's bed by accident and now he's going to kill me. What should I do?"

"Well, I would suggest apologizing. And offer to share your bed."

Tormod flushed as red as his hair at his friend's advice. "But what if he's angry?"

"I think he'll forgive you. Now calm down Little One, friends understand these kinds of things."

Tormod visibly calmed as Maurim thought about how that evening would play out for the boys. It would certainly be interesting.

After sundown, both boys slunk back to their tent after spending the afternoon chatting with their respective friends. They awkwardly stood around the room, not sitting on the floor or the unscathed bed.

"Um, Sothe?" Tormod hesitantly broke the silence.

"Mmm?" Sothe mumbled noncommittally. He was suddenly very nervous.

"I'm really sorry about burning your bed. You can have mine until I can get you a new one and…" Tormod was babbling apologies again.

Sothe smiled as he put a hand on Tormod's shoulder, effectively silencing the sage. This was the same Tormod he knew and loved. The thought itself was somewhat frightening.

"It's ok."

The smaller man noticeably relaxed under Sothe's grip and nervously looked up to meet his eyes.

"Really? You're not going to, I don't know, main me or something?"

Sothe chuckled. "No, it's fine. It's actually pretty funny."

Tormod finally smiled. "I guess it is. But all the same, you should take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor."

"No." Sothe's eyes glinted challengingly.

"What do you mean, no? I destroyed your bed, I'll sleep on the floor. Case closed,"

"No."

"Argh! Sothe, why do you have to be so annoying?"

"You keep your bed. I'll sleep on the floor."

Tormod's stubborn nature began to emerge. "No. If you're sleeping on the floor, I am too. I will not take the bed while you sleep on the floor."

"Fine. We'll share the bed then."

"Fin-wait, what?"

Sothe explained calmly. "I won't let you sleep on the floor. You won't let me. So we'll share. We did during the Mad King's War, remember?"

"…Ok."

The awkwardness returned to the tent as both boys consciously avoided accidentally touching each other as they prepared for bed, averting their eyes when the other undressed. When they were both in their sleeping clothes, they walked over to the bed and stood there, looking at each other.

"You get in first." Tormod ventured, trying not to talk about the situation they were in.

"It's you bed. You get in first." Sothe's expression mirrored Tormod's.

Tormod acquiesced, carefully climbing under the covers and lying as close to the far edge as he could manage. Sothe climbed in after, amused at how careful Tormod was being. Usually the sage wrapped himself up in a nest of blankets, most of which ended up on the floor by the morning.

"Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

The boys lapsed into silence in the dark, Tormod lying on his back staring at the ceiling and Sothe on his side facing away from Tormod. Still, it was a small bed, practically a cot and each boy could feel the other's body heat acutely.

They lay like that for a few minutes, both straining to ignore how close they were to each other.

He's so close. Why is he turned away? I mean, he's the one who suggested we share. Is he worrying about what Micaiah will think? Tormod mused, laboring under his impression that Sothe was utterly devoted to his childhood friend.

He smells like fire. Probably singed his hair again, he's so careless. I saw that he burned his fingertips. It would be so easy to reach over and touch them. Sothe tried to fight off the urge to trace the whorls of Tormod's raw fingertips, to take them in his hands and kiss them better, one by one.

"Sothe?" Tormod's voice came to his ears in a whisper, almost fading away completely.

"Yes?" Sothe replied, rolling over to face the redhead.

"Thank you for forgiving me. You-you're my best friend." Tormod's voice faltered and Sothe wanted to hold him and tell him that he felt the same way. "I mean, I know you love Micaiah and all, so she's probably your best friend, and all, but…"

Tormod trailed off and stared resolutely at the top of the tent.

Sothe started. Wait, he thinks I'm in love with Micaiah?

Tormod bit back tears when suddenly, Sothe was above him, staring straight into the sage's eyes.

"Tormod." Sothe spoke softly and gently as Tormod avoided his gaze. The soft feel of the rogue's breath on his face was torture.

"Tormod." Sothe repeated. "Look at me."

Tormod bit is lip as he tentatively returned his eyes to lock with the green haired man's, which were filled with a fiery emotion that Tormod couldn't name..

"Tormod, listen to me. I love Micaiah like a sister and I will always think of her that way. She's my sister, but you are my best friend."

Tormod couldn't respond or hold in his tears, which silently rolled down his face in a mix of despair and hope at Sothe's words.

Sothe looked down at the sage's damp cheeks glistening and decided that he never wanted Tormod to cry because of him again.

Without thinking about it, he leaned down and gently kissed the other man.

Tormod barely registered what was happening as he felt a soft pressure on his lips. Just as he realized that Sothe was kissing him, the other's mouth was gently removed.

"S-Sothe?" Tormod whispered huskily, finally identifying the emotion in the thief's eyes as lust, or passion, or maybe even love.

"Shhh." Sothe gently pressed another kiss to the smaller man's lips. "I love you Tormod. Not Micaiah. You."

Tormod started crying in earnest now, in disbelief and joy.

"I love you too Sothe. I always have." Tormod choked the words out as he pulled Sothe to him again, kissing him with all the pent-up frustration he had been feeling for weeks, months, years.

Sothe eagerly responded, moving his lips in time with Tormod as he wiped the tears from the redhead's cheeks.

Although neither of them knew how it happened, they ended up with their mouths open and their tongues tentatively exploring. They kissed until they were out of breath and then reluctantly broke apart, panting. Sothe went about kissing the tears off Tormod's face and neck, gently licking the salty drops while silently promising to never make the sage cry again.

Tormod could not comprehend what was happening, but Sothe was kissing him and his skin was tingling and it felt right. He clung to the other man's hair, neck, chest and simply let himself feel these new sensations washing over them.

That night, Tormod eventually fell asleep with his head on Sothe's bare chest, smiling contentedly, all of his tears dried. Sothe stroked the other man's hair gently as he too, slipped off into slumber with a smile of his face and Tormod in his arms.

The Dawn Brigade did not comment when Tormod and Sothe never bought a second bed. Maurim and Micaiah simply smiled knowingly.