Entry tags:
TDIR: Knowing Better
Fandom: The Dark is Rising
Main characters: Will, Bran
Referenced characters: N/a
Pairings: Will/Bran
Contains: N/a
Rating: G
Summary: When he was eleven years old, Bran probably thought he knew everything. After all this time, though, he's annoyed that he still doesn't know everything. For
darthanne -- surprise! Happy birthday!
"This," Bran said, looking hopelessly at the array of weaponry and armour, most of which he didn't recognise, "is all your fault."
"I told you it would've been simpler to pretend to be my slave," Will said. He looked tired, but he also looked very amused, and his eyes were sparkling with a boyish light that he had no right to have -- not at his age, which Bran calculated as at least a hundred years old by now, and not when Bran was in such a predicament. "At least then your ignorance wouldn't be remarkable."
If looks could kill... Bran huffed a little. "In your dreams, boyo. Come on, you're supposed to be all-knowing."
"About magic, yes. About medieval armour, no."
Bran did not, in fact, believe that. He'd been with Will for most of those hundred years, after all -- and sometimes, he felt every day of it, even though he was still in appearance only twenty or so. He knew that Will could usually be counted on to know anything, no matter how little a fact. "Will," he said, warningly.
"Yes, my lord?" Will asked, innocently. He pulled off that innocent look far too well, considering Bran had cause to know that for many, many reasons, including debauchery and an unholy love of pranks, Will had no right to look innocent either.
"Do you want me to look like an idiot?"
"Of course not," Will said, with utter insincerity. Bran looked for something to throw at him, but since most of the things laid out on the bed were made of metal and weighed about three times as much as any item of clothing had a right to, and he didn't actually want to cause any permanent damage that would make Will even more of a chore to sleep with, he gave up on it.
"Will," he said again, a trifle desperately. "I don't even know what all these things are."
"You'll manage." Will rifled through the cupboard of clothes they'd provided for him, and wrinkled his nose. "Oh, god. I knew I shouldn't have admitted I'm a wizard."
"I hope it has moons and stars on it," Bran said, without looking. "And I hope they've provided you with a false beard."
"Touchy, touchy."
"I'm going to look like an idiot. Next time, we're going to go sometime that has advanced further technologically than the wheel, okay?"
"You never look like an idiot," Will said, lightly, which meant he was probably actually serious, and it made Bran look at him. "You'll look amazing, as always. I'm the one who's going to look like an idiot."
Bran grinned at him, and Will grinned back, and for a minute neither of them said anything, they just looked at each other and finally, Will shrugged as if he was shaking something off, and crossed the room.
"You should start with this," he said, picking up something from the miniature armory spread out at Bran's side. Bran didn't even look at it, just brought his hands to Will's shoulders and held him steady for a kiss.
"We should start with this," Bran said, quietly, with the crooked half-smile that he knew did wicked things to Will's knees. He felt the answering smile against his mouth when they kissed again.
Main characters: Will, Bran
Referenced characters: N/a
Pairings: Will/Bran
Contains: N/a
Rating: G
Summary: When he was eleven years old, Bran probably thought he knew everything. After all this time, though, he's annoyed that he still doesn't know everything. For
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"This," Bran said, looking hopelessly at the array of weaponry and armour, most of which he didn't recognise, "is all your fault."
"I told you it would've been simpler to pretend to be my slave," Will said. He looked tired, but he also looked very amused, and his eyes were sparkling with a boyish light that he had no right to have -- not at his age, which Bran calculated as at least a hundred years old by now, and not when Bran was in such a predicament. "At least then your ignorance wouldn't be remarkable."
If looks could kill... Bran huffed a little. "In your dreams, boyo. Come on, you're supposed to be all-knowing."
"About magic, yes. About medieval armour, no."
Bran did not, in fact, believe that. He'd been with Will for most of those hundred years, after all -- and sometimes, he felt every day of it, even though he was still in appearance only twenty or so. He knew that Will could usually be counted on to know anything, no matter how little a fact. "Will," he said, warningly.
"Yes, my lord?" Will asked, innocently. He pulled off that innocent look far too well, considering Bran had cause to know that for many, many reasons, including debauchery and an unholy love of pranks, Will had no right to look innocent either.
"Do you want me to look like an idiot?"
"Of course not," Will said, with utter insincerity. Bran looked for something to throw at him, but since most of the things laid out on the bed were made of metal and weighed about three times as much as any item of clothing had a right to, and he didn't actually want to cause any permanent damage that would make Will even more of a chore to sleep with, he gave up on it.
"Will," he said again, a trifle desperately. "I don't even know what all these things are."
"You'll manage." Will rifled through the cupboard of clothes they'd provided for him, and wrinkled his nose. "Oh, god. I knew I shouldn't have admitted I'm a wizard."
"I hope it has moons and stars on it," Bran said, without looking. "And I hope they've provided you with a false beard."
"Touchy, touchy."
"I'm going to look like an idiot. Next time, we're going to go sometime that has advanced further technologically than the wheel, okay?"
"You never look like an idiot," Will said, lightly, which meant he was probably actually serious, and it made Bran look at him. "You'll look amazing, as always. I'm the one who's going to look like an idiot."
Bran grinned at him, and Will grinned back, and for a minute neither of them said anything, they just looked at each other and finally, Will shrugged as if he was shaking something off, and crossed the room.
"You should start with this," he said, picking up something from the miniature armory spread out at Bran's side. Bran didn't even look at it, just brought his hands to Will's shoulders and held him steady for a kiss.
"We should start with this," Bran said, quietly, with the crooked half-smile that he knew did wicked things to Will's knees. He felt the answering smile against his mouth when they kissed again.
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Thank you! *hugs* This was a lovely suprise and just what I needed today.
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*snugs* Hope you're having a good one.