Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice, nor the characters used in this story.
(A/N): I hope you're in the Will/Horace feels, because I am.
It was agonizing to watch, but there was no way for Will to force the barge to come any faster. From his vantage point on the Seacliff side of the river, he could see his visitor looking just as antsy as he was to be over here. The large battlehorse at his side was the most still thing on the barge, his head tilted so he could look at his owner.
Seeing it come closer, though . . . Will looked behind him, wondering if he would be able to come up with an excuse as to why he couldn't have Horace over that night. A patrol? No, he'd just finished one a few days ago, so there was no need for him to leave so suddenly, especially when the knight's visit had been planned for months. It was just . . . Will bit his lip, hard, and tasted blood. He just wasn't sure, just yet. If Horace was actually who he wanted.
Was he interested in guys? Beforehand, Will had only ever thought it could be guy-girl relationships, and that was that. But then Horace kissed him in the heat of the moment after the siege of Macindaw, and nothing had been the same since. They had spoken, of course, after things were straightened out. Nothing could avoid the awkwardness that ensued after that, but Will had still been confused and unsure of everything. Was he interested in guys?
Horace had conceded and said that he would understand if Will wasn't interested, or even if he didn't want to talk with him any longer. Will had laughed at that, drawing attention from the small crowd of people in the Macindaw courtyard. No matter what, Horace was a friend for life.
But a boyfriend?
The barge grated against the land, startling Will out of his reverie. He watched as Horace paid the bargeman and walked off the barge with Kicker's reins in hand. Will was just about to step out of the shadows when the bargeman called back up to Horace, loud enough for him to hear.
"Sir, I've not seen you around before. Do you need directions somewhere?"
Horace paused, and looked back to the man over his shoulder. He lifted a hand, and called back: "No, but thank you! I'm meeting my friend nearby, so I should be fine!"
My friend. Will smiled at that, and continued watching without stepping out. The bargeman nodded, and waved again, before turning away. Horace nodded to himself, and turned to start back up with walking up the hill. Will waited until Horace was past his vantage point to step out of the shadows, and fell into step behind him.
It took a few moments, but eventually Horace seemed to hesitate, and his free hand dropped to his sword at his side.
Will snorted. "Seriously, Horace. How many times have I said that the worst thing in the fief is me?"
Horace spun, but thankfully didn't draw his sword at Will's sudden appearance. After a brief flash of surprise, a grin broke out on Horace's face, and he opened his arms to Will.
Not being able to help it, Will grinned back, and practically fell, but he tried to hide it, into Horace's embrace. They hadn't seen each other since they parted after leaving Macindaw with Alyss, and even though they had been exchanging letters, that wasn't the same. The knight was there, officially, to spend some time with the Seacliff battleschool, and to drill them into better shape. The ulterior motive, however, was the fact that Horace was in fact staying at Will's cabin, instead of the room assigned him at Castle Seacliff.
Knowing that Horace wouldn't initiate anything himself because of Will's present confusion on their relationship, the Ranger slipped in a small kiss on his cheek before pulling back. "So, what do you want to do first? I can take you to the beaches, the battleschool, my cabin, Baron Ergell and Battlemaster Norris, or—"
Horace was smiling when he interrupted. "Actually, Will," he said, "I'm just tired right now. Maybe I can just check in with them tomorrow?"
Will nodded, and took Horace's hand to lead him down the path. There was shortcut that he knew of that would take him to his cabin faster, but not many others knew about it. You wouldn't notice it if you were just passing by, so Horace would have walked right past it. "Cabin it is?"
"Cabin it is," Horace confirmed, falling in step with him. Kicker followed behind them, loyally as usual. As silence fell between the two of them, the sounds of nature came in full force. Bugs buzzed around their heads, and birds chirped and cawed from in the branches above their heads. Will glanced over at Horace when he was sure that he wasn't looking, and studied his friend.
There was a bit of tension in his face. He wouldn't know what Will was thinking, if he was about to be cast aside or not. All he knew was that Will was acting friendly to him at the moment, and seemed to be accepting a possible relationship between the two of them. Will pursed his lips, and looked away. Tightening his grip on Horace's hand, Will resolved to determine by the end of that day what his situation was with Horace.
Would they remain friends, or would the unexpected happen?
"So . . ." Will breathed, practically gasping. Horace moved down his jaw instead, drawing his angles with open-mouthed kisses. The knight's hand slipped underneath his shirt, while the other fumbled with his tunic, despite it already being half off. "It got even more awkward here . . ." Will tangled his hands in Horace's hair, and hooked his legs around his boyfriend's body to keep him anchored on top, "when that girl Delia . . ."
"Oh no," Horace laughed, pulling away momentarily. Will snorted, lips curling upwards at the sound of Horace's voice. "I gotta hear this," the knight continued, finally slipping Will's tunic completely off, and tossing it aside. He laid on top of Will, his shirt already gone and his trousers loosened. Horace settled down half on, half off. His legs still wrapped around him, and, while Will's arm was underneath his neck, Horace had his arms around Will's torso, as if claiming him. Settling his cheek on Will's shoulder, Horace looked over to Will. "Okay, you can start again."
Will's free hand came up and ran through his sweat-dampened hair. He was still breathing hard, but had enough energy to laugh, throwing his head back against the pillow. "You'd rather hear this pathetic story than continue?" Will asked, and gestured to his damp and half-clothed body. At the moment, he was trying to recall how they had gotten to this point. Before, he hadn't been sure if he wanted to be in a relationship with Horace, and then they'd gotten to his cabin, one thing led to another and then they were in bed. Did it matter, though? They were here, and that was that.
A sly smile broke out on Horace's face, his hand sliding down Will's stomach until it played with the band of his trousers, and slipped underneath. The Ranger gasped, anchoring his feet and tightening his grip around Horace's neck. "I never said we'd stop," Horace murmured, his mouth trailing underneath Will's jaw.
Finding it hard to breath, Will dropped his own hand down to his crotch, stilling Horace's hand through the fabric of his pants. "If you think I can tell a story through you doing that, then you're expecting too much of me."
Horace's smile widened, and although his hand went still, he didn't remove it from its spot. "How 'bout now?"
"I hate you," Will whispered, but resituated himself so his body was pressed against Horace. Purposely so that his bottom was pressed against the hardness in Horace's pants.
"You were telling me about Delia," Horace prompted, snuggling his nose against the crook of Will's neck.
"As I was saying, things got a lot more awkward with Delia showing up on my front step, carrying my dinner when her mother Edwina would have normally carried it out. I was still a little iffy on them making me dinner all the time, but I had just gotten back from a patrol, and was tired, so I didn't protest this one time . . ."
Will threw himself into the front porch chair, tossing off his cloak and rolling up his sleeves against the summer heat. Knowing that he'd have to get up eventually, he kept his boots on, but kicked up his feet on the railing. The sun's heat felt nice on him in the limited shade he had on the porch, limited and bearable.
The Ranger's eyes dipped down, slowly getting heavier and heavier with the heat. It would be okay to take a nap, although he'd probably wake up with one hell of a sun burn. Just as his eyes closed, a small smile flickered onto his face.
Not a second later, Tug nickered from his spot in the lean-to, stamping his feet and knocking his shoulder against the side nearest Will. Opening his eyes, Will saw a figure making their way towards his cabin, carrying a large, pot-like thing in their hands. Edwina is early today, Will realized, trying to make an effort to open his eyelids, she normally doesn't come until at least six in the afternoon.
Someone knocked on the banister directly in front of him.
Will's eyes snapped open, not having realized that they had shut after noticing the approaching figure.
"Hi, Will," Delia said, her mouth widening in a large, welcoming smile. "My mother was busy today, so she asked me to drop off your dinner." She held up the covered pot, blinking slowly and pursing her lips.
She seems different today, Will mentally took note, like she's trying harder. But for what?
Instead, Will sat up and stood, smiling and clapping his hands together to cover how tired he was. "Oh, well, thank you, Delia. Please, come inside."
He moved to open the door for her, and she stepped up onto the porch and entered the small cabin. Will had left early in the morning, and all of the windows were still covered with the curtains, so as Delia went over into the small kitchenette to set down the pot, Will moved around the cabin, opening curtains and windows to let in light and air. Upon hearing a small clattering behind him, Will looked over his shoulder to see what his visitor was doing. To his surprise, she had opened a cabinet and was drawing out bowls and utensils—two each.
Will gulped, and glanced outside. "Uhm . . ." Will stammered, wondering what was going on, but realizing it would be rude to tell her to leave, "will you stay for the meal? Or do you have somewhere else to be?"
Delia turned, and smiled at him as if that was exactly what she was expecting to here. There was a triumph look to her eyes, but it disappeared the moment Will looked at her. "Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude . . ." she trailed off, looking down on the stew as she took the lid off. Even as she said that, she began ladling helpings of the stew into two bowls.
"You're not intruding," Will said, forcing a smile.
He moved back to the table, taking one of the bowls that Delia handed to him. She sat down across from him, her back to the door, her eyes glued to his face. There was an intent look to her eyes, something that made Will a little hesitant to settle down in his seat and enjoy his meal.
"So how are you enjoying Seacliff?" Delia started, apparently playing stupid to the fact that he had been gone from the fief for the entire winter and had no way of having a solid feeling about it.
He responded anyways, "It's nice," he said, looking down into his bowl, "although, it's fairly laid back. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing, but that's one thing I've noticed."
"Why would laid back not be a good thing?" Delia asked. So far, she hadn't touched her stew.
Will shrugged. "Growing up in Redmont really drills the fact that you have to be prepared for anything. That Skandian raid was a surprise to everyone here, and no one was prepared."
For the first time that she came, Delia frowned. She finally put down her spoon, no longer trying to make it seem like she was actually interested in eating. "So, what, you always have to be prepared for everything?" Her eyes searched him, and surprisingly, she actually looked nervous. Her hands went below the table.
"Well," Will half-heartedly laughed, "yeah. That's basically a huge part of being a Ranger. You have to be prepared for the unexpected."
Slowly, Delia stood, and stepped to the side of the table. Will pushed his chair out, and started to stand, wondering what Delia was doing after making such an effort to impose herself in his normal dinner routine. Before he could get much further than half-way out of the chair, Delia stepped forward, and pushed him back into the chair, swinging her legs around and sitting on his lap.
"Unexpected . . . like this?" Delia whispered, leaning forward and planting a firm kiss on Will's lips. For a few moments, Will was stunned. Frozen. Having no response from him, the young woman took it upon herself to direct Will, as if it were his first time. She took his hands from where they were still on the armrests, and put them up her skirt.
She wasn't wearing undergarments.
It was the warm, wetness that pushed Will into action.
Will snatched back his hands, and tried to stand. Delia momentarily slipped backwards, but Will, barely thinking clearly, instinctively reached out to catch her before her head collided with the corner of the table. But the moment she got to her feet, and straightened her skirt, Will stepped out of reach.
"I—I . . ." Delia stammered, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She took a few steps backwards. "I thought . . ." Sudden anger flared across her face. "What the hell was that?"
Will stumbled back again, awkwardly covering his mouth as he pursed his lips. What the hell was happening?
"I realize that when you first came here you weren't interested, Mr. Treaty," Delia snapped, seemingly going off on him, "but ever since you got back after your little winter vacation, you've done nothing but compliment me and seek my company at the inn." She stepped forward towards him, her fists clenched, "I realize that that's not exactly a reason for me to seemingly throw myself at you but when you answered 'sure' to my question, I assumed that you wanted me." She gestured down at her dress, which Will now noticed seemed fairly tighter than usual, which pushed her breasts to a more noticeable level.
Meekly, Will raised a hand to make sure she wouldn't continue. "May I ask what question, exactly, that I said yes to?"
Disbelief flooded the woman's face. "What?"she asked, her hands coming up and tangling into her hair. "What?"
"What question did I say yes to?" Realizing he would have to get it out, Will smiled nervously. "Honestly, Delia, recently I've been a bit busy. I must have just forgotten, or didn't hear your question clearly and just said yes so you had an answer. I didn't realize it would lead to something like this. What question did I answer?"
Delia clenched her jaw, dropping her hands. She shook her head. "I asked if you wanted more." Her lips curled up, and she continued to shake her vigorously. Once against, she gestured towards her dress. Her body. "What changed? You were interested in that Lady Alyss earlier. What changed? It's not me, is it?"
Will paused, staring at her. Did I really say yes to that? Would I have really said yes to that? "It's . . . not you, Delia. I swear, you did nothing. And I didn't mean for that mix-up."
"What changed?" Delia said again, hurt and confusion finally entering her voice. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, and her hands gestured to her body again. She seemed to be stuck in repeat mode, unable to do anything else.
"I'm gay." Will blurted, staring at the woman who he had apparently agreed to have sex with.
Her hands dropped. Her eyes widened. "Oh."
Horace snorted, and buried his face in the pillow besides Will's head. The Ranger himself was busy trying to catch his breath, after he had bursted out laughing just before the end of the story. Horace had poke him in the side to get him to continue his story, and when that didn't work, Horace kissed him until neither of them could breathe.
"You said that?" Horace cackled into the pillow, wrapping his arms around Will. Trying to pull himself out of the death grip only caused Horace to laugh harder and hold him tighter.
Suddenly, Horace fell silent, and sat up, straddling Will's waist and hips. Leaning forward, Horace pinned Will against the bed and leaned down above him. There was a slight sparkle in his eye—he was planning something.
"There something wrong with that?" the Ranger laughed, still gasping for breath. His chest rose and fell heavily, still sleek with sweat from the summer air. "There something wrong with me saying that I wasn't interested in women?"
Horace smiled softly. "I thought you said you weren't sure just yet."
Will fell still. "Well, I guess I just figured it out."
His grin widened, and, leaning forward, Horace pushed his lips against Will's. He released Will's arms, allowing him to reach up, and draw Horace down atop him. Cupping Will's chin with one hand, Horace's other hand slid down Will's side. Slowly, he tugged the band of the trousers half way down his thighs. Will worked on Horace's pants, fumbling with them in his eagerness to get them down. Without waiting, though, Horace slid his free hand down the front of Wills undergarments.
Will's hands fell still only for a moment, before grabbing onto the pants more firmly, bringing their hips together.
Horace's free hand come up and tangled in Will's hair, his lips messily trailing off him for a moment as he moved up and down. The heat between the two of them increased as the desperate need for the other made them move faster. They broke apart, gasping for breath, even as Will moaned, and pushed his hands against Horace's chest, arching his back.
"Horace . . ." Will breathed. Horace smiled, and leaned forward once more, his mouth moving down Will's face, and neck, down his chest and stomach. Soon enough, Will's hands were tangled in Horace's hair, and the tenseness in his body slowly seeped out, and the two of them relaxed into the bed, Horace resting his head on Will's stomach.