Work Text:
Lucian struggles to keep his eyes open while he looks at the map spread out on the floor of their tent. He isn’t the only one - though he’ll never admit it, Valentine is exhausted. Luke knows because he can feel it through their paratabai bond, which is only ever this open when Valentine is clearly overextending himself. “I think my brain is actually dissolving at this point,” Jocelyn complains from where she sits cross-legged on the ground. They’ve been trying to track a rogue werewolf through the woods of Brocelind Forest for two days now, with Valentine and Luke using their parabatai tracking to strengthen the signal.
“Go to sleep, dear,” Valentine tells her, reaching out a hand to brush through Jocelyn’s fiery red locks. “We can rest a few hours before moving on.”
“We?” Jocelyn questions dubiously.
“We,” Luke chimes in, his tone insistent and his eyes locked on Valentine’s. “I’ll clean up, you get some rest, too.”
Lucian feels a small spike of annoyance through the open bond, followed quickly by something he tries not to think too hard about. It’s fondness, but more than that. It’s love. A love that Luke isn’t sure how to properly read into because it’s so very similar to the love he feels through the bond when Valentine is with Jocelyn.
There’s no way that Valentine is going to argue both of them - he probably doesn’t have the energy to even if he wanted to.
Jocelyn reaches a hand out to Valentine and Luke watches him take it without another word and turn towards the small pile of blankets, immediately curling up against each other in the confined space.
It’s the dead of winter, with the only thing separating them from falling snow beginning to build outside being the thin fabric of their tent, and Lucian wants nothing more than to tuck himself next to Jocelyn, both for warmth and for more selfish, emotional reasons. He distracts himself from those thoughts by carefully folding the maps, wrapping the food they’d been eating, and putting out the lantern lights.
Then he grabs a blanket and goes to settle several feel away from Valentine and Jocelyn.
“Where are you going?”
Valentine’s voice catches Luke by surprise. He doesn’t move, but he doesn’t say anything, either.
“Don’t be ridiculous, get over here.”
Lucian doesn’t know what to say, but Jocelyn is already shifting so that there’s a space on the other side of her for him to lay down.
Valentine must sense his hesitation because Luke suddenly feels a wave of reassurance and welcoming through the bond. Does he know? A ridiculous question - of course he knows. If this is how easily Lucian can read Valentine’s emotions then certainly Valentine can read his.
But if he can, if he knows more of how Lucian feels than he cares to admit aloud, Valentine isn’t angry. He isn’t upset, or disgusted. And Jocelyn, who doesn’t know anything Luke is feeling, wraps an arm around him the moment he lays beside her, pulling him closer than he would’ve dared to go on his own.
They don’t say anything more, pressed together under the warmest blankets they have, and as he settles in Luke feels the softest press of lips against his cheek when Jocelyn leans up to kiss him goodnight.
They don’t talk about it in the morning, and the next night it’s Valentine who leaves space to pull Luke in, and much to his surprise, Valentine who places a gentle kiss goodnight on his temple. It’s clear that there isn’t going to be a discussion, not if Luke doesn’t bring it up - this is just them now. Connected and content.
Lucian isn’t sure how he feels about it, but there’s room in that uncertainty for the desire to find out.