One Down, Two to Go
Chapter 3 of ?
A/N: Yes, I've NOT died in a tragic car accident! Sorry it took so long. XX Oh, still do not own FE. Here we go...!
It had been around a day or so since Guy had finally come out of his tent, and Matthew, arm adorned with a lovely sling holding his useless limb and a few bandages on his injured shoulder because it still bled, but he had somehow managed to get out of the healing tent. Sadly, Guy was not there for the event, for he was isolated out in the forest, alone, despite the best advice and pleading that the tactician could give, he would not stay behind at the camp.
Said sword master now lay, half asleep, with his long, mossy hair unbraided and trailing into the water, as well as his slender hand which lacked the callousness of most of the sword wielders of the jolly band of mercenaries that was Eliwood's Elite. At the moment, he merely sought refuge from the chaos that was their camp. So, here he lay, bare from the waist up, because his over clothing was removed and tossed elsewhere, eyes half lidded as he teetered between consciousness, daydreaming, and sleep, because since Matthew had been injured, he had not gotten so much as a wink of sleep, and so now he was taking advantage of the calming trickle of the river, the coolness of the water, and the silence which filled the general area that was away from the camp as he was starting to drift off...
"Guy?"
Immediately the myrmidon jerked back to consciousness, sitting up, looking around. Was it Mark? He felt his hand feeling around for the top of his garments... and found someone kneeling on it, smirking slightly. "M-Matthew...!"
"Good morning, sleeping beauty..."
Guy frowned and tugged at the article of clothing, which the thief was sitting on, "Get off that! What possessed you to come and pester me, anyway?"
"You want out of my debt right?" he said, voice a low murmur as he leaned on closer to the myrmidon who now say upright, placing a hand on the bare chest of the myrmidon, fingers splayed. The smirk upon the face of the thief grew more obvious as he noticed the flush of Guy's face and his murmur of "umh..." as he leaned in closer, and closer, until he heard Guy's rapidly pounding heart and quickened breathing, at which point, he shoved the myrmidon into the river, laughing uproariously as he stood, amused at the now drenched Sacaen as he tried to clamber our of the shallow river, succeeding after a little struggle, and coughing water from his lungs as his long hair clung to his slender frame.
"You...you!"
The thief offered a hand to help Guy up, "You need to cool off, anyway, because Mark has told me you've been a short fuse since I got hurt. What's making you such a spazz anyway?"
"I'm not a spazz!" he shouted, striking Matthew's hand away as he stood up, wringing his hair out, fully flustered and dripping wet.
"Sit down. I'll braid your hair..."
"... But..." the harsh tone in his voice was somewhat cooled as he looked at the sling which Matthew's arm rested in, and a look of concern crossed his face, but was quickly masked over by a simple frown. "Your arm's still broken... right?"
"It's healed enough for me to do something like braid your hair, Guy," he advanced towards the myrmidon, running his fingers through the drenched, silky green hair that the sword wielder had down. His smirk seemed to evolve into a soft smile as he noticed the splash of crimson across the face of the Sacaen, before he hesitantly obeyed, sitting down so his bare feet dangled into the cool waters. He heard as the thief took a seat behind him, on his knees, and his face darkened when he noticed that Matthew sat with one knee on either side of his hip. Also, the back of his mind noticed how gently the thief way, gathering any and all loose strands away from his neck. His arms broke out into chill bumps when the smooth hands of the thief tickled the short hairs on the back of his neck as he began braiding his long hair. For some reason, despite the fact that Matthew had braided Guy's hair many times before, he had to admit that it was different this time... The thief seemed to be going slower, braiding it just the way Guy always did, not too tight and not too lose, and he seemed to be jerking it less than he did when Guy had to let him braid it when he was injured... But, though it took a long time in reality, it seemed all to brief in the mind of the myrmidon, and Matthew tied a ribbon in it to keep it from unraveling, and then stood, and Guy took a moment to return back from his momentary trip to la-la land.
"Guy..."
"Um, yeah...?" the myrmidon mentally winced at how puny his voice sounded, before standing, and looking to the thief, blinking a few times.
"Mark... He said that you had something very important to tell me?" the thief said, uninjured hand resting lightly on his hip as he waited for the response from the green-haired male.
Said response did take some time to come as the Sacaen was currently biting his lower lip slightly, shifting weight from foot to foot. Eventually, the response came, and it made the thief frown, for it was a mute shake of the head. Unsatisfied, the thief stepped forward and aught the chin of the other male in his hand, looking directly into the Sacaen's green eyes, using his thumb to move a strand of the male's bangs that were normally held out of his face by the headband which was currently not on.
"You owe me two favors, Guy," he said, smirking softly, "and this is one."
The Sacaen's eyes fluttered closed as he felt the thief lean in, raising his hands to place them on the other male's chest, then snaking then up around his neck, and soon he felt the thief's breath against his lips. And, his heart pounded at this, he felt the thief's arms grip his waist tightly as Matthew's lips caught his.
A/N: n.n And here it is, chapter three! I think the next one might be the last. And it might up the rating, too. Depends a lot of what I end up writing. Review, darmit, I still have those bandits!