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Solid Ground

Summary:

Wonder what Sniper had on his mind.

Notes:

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It wasn't the first time he'd been invited to lay down on top of the van, to stare out at the stars while worrying about what they'd do about the grogginess in the morning. It wasn’t the first time they sat in silence, a drink or two strewn about. It wasn’t even the first time that Mick seemed to be shaking more from anxiety than the cold- which he refused to put a jacket on for. 

 

Except, this time it was different. Even Jeremy, blissfully oblivious as he was to the world around him, noticed Mick stealing looks, opening and closing his mouth, glancing away, twiddling his fingers. He pressed his hand on top of Mick’s shaking ones, a smile spreading across his face as Mick’s burned. “You look like you’re gonna explode, man.” Jeremy teased, a comforting thumb rubbing across the back of his hand. “Demo would love a piece of you. Kablooey!”

 

Mick laughed, a real laugh- not a chuckle or a snort of air through his nose as usual- but a bright laugh that danced at his ears and played at his heart. He pushed Jeremy's face away, hand shaking marginally less, “shut up,” there was no bite, a grin spread across his face- lopsided and all the prettier to Jeremy.

 

The boy in question snuggled further into the marksman’s side, the wind beginning to pick up. “You look like you wanna say something.” As usual, but Jeremy was more curious, and Mick had already given leeway. Give an inch, take a mile. That's just how it seemed to be with him.

 

Mick glanced away, “oh-,” he was terrible at hiding it, he knew that, but had hoped Jeremy was more oblivious than what met the eye. He searched for the right words, the right tone, anything other than silence- but Jeremy beat him to it. He was always faster in everything he did.

 

Jeremy smiled, grabbing and holding his hand. “You don't gotta say anything.” He rested his head on his shoulder, looking back to the sky, “I get it.”

 

Mick looked up, leaning into the shorter man as he nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, Roo.” The stars fluttered in the night sky, splattered across the horizon against the ink of the void that stretched beyond. He squeezed his hand, suddenly glad that out of anything in the universe and beyond, it was Jeremy who was next to him. 

 

It was a while later, once the sky had begun to lighten and Jeremy had begun to doze off, that Sniper wrapped his arms around him, thumbs pressed against his cheeks. “C'mon. S’time to go inside, Roo.” 

 

Scout barely roused, a whine on his lips as he shifted as much as Sniper's position allowed. He was poked and prodded a few times more before he got back up, with obvious grogginess in his movements.

 

Sniper, on the other hand, was used to sleepless nights and the occasional odd hour of quiet, his mind always buzzing with random thoughts while he waited for sleep or the passage of light through his blinds. Sniper helped Scout get off the camper, internally fretting about every tired stumble and slip he seemed to be about to make.

 

Once they were both on solid ground, Scout leaned his body weight against Sniper, eyes shut and body heavy. “Take me to bed,” he grumbled, trusting Sniper to lead him there, being intimately familiar with the motions.

 

Sniper rolled his eyes, a soft smile spreading across his face as he walked into the camper, Scout's weight comfortable and familiar against his shoulder. Sniper had barely managed to get Scout to the bed before he flopped over, pressing himself into the less-than-clean sheets with a tired yawn.

 

Sniper hesitated. He felt like he always would, hovering and standing to the side of his own bed. Embarrassingly, he glanced over at the pull-out couch nearby, wondering if Scout would mind if he slept next to him again. In his own bed.

 

Fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling lightly. He looked down to Scout who was lying face down, arm almost limp as he tugged Sniper towards himself. The older man gave in, stiffly laying next to him as Scout found comfort in the warmth next to him.

 

Sniper looked over, “uhm. Scout?” He asked, getting a tired him in response. “I..” there weren't words, he found, no words to describe what he wanted to say, what he felt. He trailed off, nervous about Scout getting annoyed with staying up. The silence dragged on, and his doubt grew.

 

“Snipes?”

 

“Yeah, Roo?”

 

“I know,” Jeremy mumbled, turning over to revel in the warmth of the man next to him, pressing himself into his feverish skin. “Okay?” He was beginning to doze off again, body like a bag of rocks.

 

“Okay.” Sniper agreed, Scout's touch sparks against his skin. He sat there, listening to and watching the blanket rise with every breath. He wasn't tired, and he likely wouldn't be sleeping that night. But he was comfortable. He shut his eyes in a flimsy copy of Scout, a mockery of sleep, but it would be as close as he got. “Night, Roo.”