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It had been a long day, making their way through Akielos. Akielos was too hot, the air unpleasantly sticky during the middle of the day (though thankfully not at night), and there were insects that buzzed around, and riding or walking took more effort than it had done in Vere. Lazar was sweating in his uniform on horseback, and now they had stopped and were making camp he had to fetch water, and he felt quite exhausted.
But Akielos had its advantages, Lazar thought, as he brushed his fingers through his hair, dunking the bucket into the stream, and looking ahead to where Pallas and one of his friends were fishing using spears. Their chitons were soaked, clinging to their skin, highlighting every muscle, Pallas’s hair hanging loose about his shoulders. The light caught his olive skin, and Lazar shifted his stance slightly in an attempt to get comfortable. He thought he could just enjoy the view for a while.
As though in answer to his gaze, Pallas moved, stabbing down with his spear, impaling a large fish and holding it up triumphantly. He caught sight of Lazar and grinned, waving the fish. He was brilliant when he smiled, his entire face lighting up. Lazar still thrilled that he got looked at like that.
Lazar laughed, and clapped his hands together, and Pallas jumped slightly with enthusiasm, throwing the fish to the side where it joined three others that had been speared. He waved at Lazar. “Lazar, έλα εδώ!”
Lazar stared at him, and shrugged, and Pallas repeated the words, waving him closer. Lazar approached, walking carefully - his boots were not fully waterproof and Pallas was standing in the stream. Once Lazar was within grabbing distance Pallas did so, and Lazar was reminded of how strong his paramour was, how behind his easy grin there was a strength.
Pallas nuzzled against him, briefly, then pouted when Lazar’s hand went to his skirt. “Aργότερα,” he said, taking Lazar’s hand in his own, and guiding it to the spear. He pointed at the fast running water, and the fish within it. He mimed the stabbing movement.
Lazar tried to copy the movement. Pallas nodded enthusiastically. Lazar lined up against one of the fish, and tried to spear it.
It didn’t work. He missed, substantially. Pallas laughed, and babbled something, then tried to demonstrate with his hand. Lazar stared at him.
“Διάθλαση,” Pallas repeated, then sighed and shook his head. He walked over to the sand, sketching a fish and some water. It took a while, but eventually Lazar got the key information. The spear was in the wrong place because the water made it look bent. The fish weren’t where they looked like they were. Knowing that, he tried again. And again.
Pallas was laughing softly.
Lazar lurched forwards again, spearing a fish, and pulling it out. It wasn’t a particularly big fish, but that wasn’t the point. He’d done it.
Pallas laughed more, nodding and trying to mimic Veretian applause.
Aktis rolled his eyes and wandered off, muttering to himself in his incomprehensible tongue. Lazar grinned at Pallas, walking over and threading his arms around Pallas’s neck.
Pallas grinned, and lifted him up, and Lazar squeaked, finding himself carried triumphantly back to camp.
“Ah,” the bitch-prince looked up from where he was making notes. “Pallas is claiming the spoils of war, I see.”
“Hardly. He’s carrying me because I speared a fish,” Lazar answered with a laugh, clambering out of Pallas’s grasp. “Dinner tonight is because of me.”
Laurent snorted, and turned back to his notes.
The fish was cooked, and shared around. They ate, and shared a cup of Akielon wine, and then they fucked, at some distance from the camp - both because of Pallas’s shyness, and because Huet had threatened to set fire to their blanket next time they woke him up. Akielon wine was another good thing about the southern nation, much better than the swill that Lazar was used to drinking. It made Lazar feel warm. He grinned at Pallas as the Akielon adjusted his skirts after, leaning in to kiss at his neck as reaching his lips was a challenge.
Pallas leaned in to kiss him, and squeezed his hand. They headed back to the fire, where Lazar’s boots were drying out, and the Veretians catcalled and laughed. Pallas flushed slightly, which made Lazar feel warm. He sat down, and Pallas sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and grinning.
“What do you want now, insatiable menace?” Lazar asked, grinning.
Pallas patted at Lazar’s trouser-legs until he found the set of ivory dice he always carried, like a good luck charm. They weren’t weighted, but he was quick of hand and good at counting cards, and they’d won him a lot of money in the past.
Pallas liked them. He liked playing games, and while Lazar hadn’t got the patience for half the Akielon strategy-games, he’d found he was good at teaching Pallas a few tricks with dice or cards, and rewarding him with kisses when he worked it out.
It was good, and they sat around the fire for a while, before they retired to the same blanket. Pallas sprawled out, and pulled Lazar to lie against him, one hand resting possessively on Lazar’s thigh. Lazar laughed, softly, but curled against him, admiring the strength of the younger man. It was pretty obvious to him that Pallas could do much better, but if Pallas was having fun right now, he saw no need to stop it.
He yawned, starting to doze, but paused when he felt Pallas gasp.
“What is it?” He asked, blinking sleepily.
“Κοίτα, αστέρια!” Pallas replied, raising a hand to gesture - there were streaks of light crossing the night sky. Shooting stars.
“In Vere, we make a wish when we see those,” he told Pallas, but Pallas didn’t make a wish, and nor did he. He didn’t need to - right now, there was nothing he wanted.
They lay awake for a while, pointing at each shining star that crossed the night sky, and when the show finally stopped, they kissed again.