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"Why did the chicken cross the road?"
Aslan looked up and squinted at Vlad's stiff figure, haloed by sunlight. He looked good, if a little too serious. "What?"
"The chicken— Hm. To get to the other side," Vlad said.
Aslan stared.
"It's funny because, because— it died."
Aslan closed his book and sat up, frowning. Was Vlad speaking in code? Was he having a heat stroke? He did look a bit red in the face. That couldn't be good.
"Man, are you okay?"
Vlad pursed his lips, looking increasingly uncomfortable, and then he just— sighed, shoulders dropping. At last, he looked normal, brooding and vaguely pissed at nothing and everything. Aslan half-smiled, patting the grass beside him, and Vlad followed.
"What are you reading?" he said, instead of explaining anything, but Aslan decided to let him have it.
"Lale lent it to me. Some ancient tale about doomed lovers." He passed his friend the volume. "It's funnier than I thought it would be."
"Ah, this one." Vlad mumbled. "Just wait until the end."
Aslan nodded, trying very, very hard not to feel anything about how close Vlad and Lale were. It was them three, he reminded himself, even if he didn't quite fit either of them perfectly. Even if the other two made a much better constellation by themselves than with him.
...The stupid book was making him gloomy. Like Vlad.
Maybe Lale would like that, he thought vaguely.
"Why are you smiling?" Vlad asked, dry.
"Just can't believe we'll finally have something in common, baby wolf."
Vlad rolled his eyes, looking away. "Great. Out of all my qualities, you choose the most useless one."
Aslan laughed, lightly punching his shoulder, half in support, half in reproach. "Hey, it makes you you, so how bad can it be?"
Vlad still wasn't looking at him. "I don't know, being a good and beloved warrior sounds better than just liking books, but what do I know?"
It took him a moment to fully comprehend Vlad's words, but when he did, Aslan tackled him to the grass, careful not to hurt him or the book.
"Oh, you love me, huh?" he teased, grinning and fighting the strange urge to kiss his cheek. He bit Vlad's ear instead, lightly.
"Shut the hell up—"
They wrestled in the grass, quite pathetically — Aslan going easy on him, Vlad having to worry about the book. But Aslan soon took mercy and released him. He would take this to his grave, but sometimes, only sometimes, touching Vlad was... different from touching anyone else. Better, more, than almost anyone else. Weirdly, it reminded him of the effect Lale's touch had on him, which made some sense, he supposed, because he loved Vlad too.
"I win," Aslan said, just to defuse the tension. Vlad still wasn't looking at him, bright red and panting from the fight.
"From an unjust attack? Such honor," he quipped, and Aslan tried and failed to fight a smile.
"Race you to the lake then?" The cool water would probably do them some good. "Since you're so eager to be a good warrior—"
"Shut up. You're on!" Vlad passed him the book back, lovely in his anger. Aslan took it back, not hiding his grin.
"One, two—"
And off they were, loud and ridiculous like in any other good day.