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Clancy isn't sure if the cold and wet will ever fully leave his bones now, they wrap around his joints and tendons in what feels like a bear trap, pinching at his every movement. The fire feels like a mockery of warmth when he still feels so cold.
The Banditos huddle around the same fire, finishing off their own bowls of food and conversing with one another. Clancy's own bowl lay limp, hanging between his hands, not quite done. He’s just not used to the noise, the chattering that is, the small chuckles held between friends, the clattering of utensils on wood, all layered over the crackling of the fire. It feels suffocating, like the heat is burning away at the chill that still resides within him all too quickly and all too hot.
He itches to move, his leg bounces as he gazes into the fire. He's waiting, for what, he isn't entirely sure: the sound of hooves against grass and mud, maybe, the calculated footsteps, cold hands on his neck ready to drag him back there.
He takes a deep breath, the smoke of the fire a familiar smell. He gives up finishing off his food, placing the half-eaten bowl down by his feet, instead using his now free hands to graze over the ridges of the antlers that sit attached to his waist. A reminder. A symbol of who he is now.
A few banditos were now packing up and heading to bed, bidding their companions goodnight with soft hands on their backs and firm squeezes on their shoulders.
Clancy's stomach sinks, and his heart aches at the small touches shared, his fingers twitching from where they're still fiddling with the antlers; he tears his eyes away from the scene, his eyes glued back to the now dwindling fire.
The moon hangs high in the sky now, casting the camp in a white glow.
The remaining Banditos share looks with each other, eyeing him with something Clancy can't quite discern, before scurrying off to their night watch posts.
The soft steps from behind him snap him out of his thoughts. He turns, and the Torchbearer stares back, eyes soft yet questioning; Clancy knows what this look means.
Although Clancy isn't sure how to answer it. Is he okay? He looks back towards the fire, the Torchbearer already making his way to sit next to him.
Their arms press against one another through the thick fabric of their clothes, and their knees knock softly against each other. Clancy glances up. The light of the still dwindling fire bounces off the Torchbearer's face, his big brown doe eyes reflecting the fire in them as the light dances on his skin curving around his nose and highlighting his jaw and cheeks.
Clancy noticed it when they reunited, actually reunited, but he's close enough now he could run his fingers through the longer curls that frame the apples of the Torchbearer's cheeks, and that sit at the base of his skull, from where they peek out from the beanie he wears.
They sit in silence, the wind and rustling of the trees being their only companion in this part of the camp.
He catches himself growing tired; despite himself, he leans his head on the Torchbearer's shoulder with a small exhale. The Torchbearer pauses before shifting slightly to cradle Clancy's head with his hand and running his fingers through the other man's hair, placing a soft kiss on the top of his head as a thumb rubs gently over his temple.
The affection isn't new; it never was between them, but Clancy can feel the chill that cocoons his aching bones crack, and something in him stumbles over itself.
The fire is embers now, and Clancy doesn't find himself missing the warmth all that much; with the thumb running over his hairline and the face smushed into his hair, it's just the same, if not better. He slips his eyes closed for a moment, breathing in sandalwood and smoke.
Something is mumbled into his hair, as another kiss is placed on his head, that Clancy vaguely makes it out as an ask to head in for the night. Clancy peels his eyes open and nods, they pull away with a hint of reluctance.
The tent is dark, and the corners are cast in deep shadows where the moonlight outside can't quite reach. They both slip off their shoes in the darkness before they both clamber into the makeshift bed, which is far too small for the two of them; neither one is annoyed by it, though.
They lay facing each other, tucked under the fur pelt blankets. The Torchbearer’s eyes still hold that same questioning yet soft look they did before. Clancy doesn't think he'll ever have an answer for him, so instead, he just reaches out his hand and grazes his fingers over the others cheek. Even through the darkness, he can see The Torchbearer smile, a faint little thing in the night, but it makes Clancy's heart swell just the same.
He's real, and he's here.
The Torchbearer grasps Clancy's hand with his own and brings the other's palm to his lips before placing a faint kiss. Clancy feels his fingers tingle, no longer near the fire he doesn't think he can use the warmth of it to excuse the heat that burns on his ears.
Instead, he exhales hard, his insides becoming gooey, and the Torchbearer chuckles, bringing his face closer to Clancy's before settling a kiss on his forehead, soft and deliberate.
The Torchbearer brings his hands up to cradle the underside of Clancy's jaw; they're so warm against Clancy's still-cold skin. The Torchbearer runs his thumbs over Clancy's jawline, placing a kiss on his cheek, and Clancy thinks he must look like a mess, he feels like a puddle, a sickly sweet puddle praised with affection.
“This okay?” The Torchbearer’s hushed voice snaps Clancy back, he hasn't let go of Clancy's face, now running a thumb over the cheek he just kissed.
Clancy just nods, a strangled “Yeah.” Breaks free from his vocal cords.
Another chuckle, this time followed by a kiss on the tip of Clancy's nose, he scrunches it up, a smile threatening to break out on his lips, as another kiss is placed on his temple.
The tips of his fingers still feel cold, where he holds onto the Torchbearer's waist, and his feet still carry that chill. Yet, he finds, as he is wrapped up in the Torchbearer's arms and their legs slot between each others, he doesn't care.
“You're thinking too hard.” The Torchbearer mumbles into Clancy's forehead, kissing it again just for good measure.
Clancy hums, reaching up to grab the Torchbearer's hands moving them from where they still reside on his face so he can slot his head into the Torchbearer's neck, “I know, I'm so mean.” Clancy mumbles into his skin.
He feels the Torchbearer huff out a laugh above him, before two hands come and hold his head and neck, fingers running softly over the skin. Clancy smiles into the Torchbearer, moving his head up slightly so he can place a kiss on the spot where his jaw meets his ear.
He can feel the Torchbearer’s breath slow as he slips into sleep, Clancy lays there for a few more moments, listening. He's real, he's here.
He doesn't feel the creeping chill, as he drifts off to sleep, more a steady stream of warmth seeping into his bones. He just hopes it sticks around.