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Henry hadn’t meant to spy. He was innocently collecting firewood for the inn and a few herbs for the alchemist when he happened to stumble upon Hans in the woods. They weren't far from the Den itself but Henry didn’t like the thought of Hans being out alone, even if he was careful about it. He trusted him, though, and he had intended to give him space yet somehow he ended up watching him. Hans was busy setting up a selection of small wooden ducks at different heights and paces in front of him. He then retrieved his bow and aimed, hitting each target swiftly and precisely. Henry knew Hans was a competent archer but he’d never really noticed it before; how poised and focused he was, sizing up his target and expertly dealing with it. The lord lowered his bow and retrieved one of the ducks, examining it closely. Without warning, he tossed into the air as high as he could, quickly and efficiently drawing back his bow and firing an arrow into the target before catching the pierced carving as if it was something he did all the time.
Henry must have made some sort of noise for the next thing he knew Hans was chuckling, “you liked that, then?”
“No,” Henry protested although he was sure he was blushing. His arms suddenly felt weak and the logs he was carrying felt like they weighed a tonne. Hans glanced at him over his shoulder and Henry tried to feign nonchalance, “I just didn’t know you could be more of a show off than you already are.”
“Oh, you think you can do better?” Hans stood, offering Henry his bow and practice arrows with a smug smile, “be my guest.”
Henry unceremoniously dumped the logs he was carrying onto the ground, striding towards Hans purposefully. After exchanging sarcastic looks with Hans, he took the bow and got into position in front of the makeshift archery range. His archery skills were nowhere near as good as Hans’ but he knew what he was doing. Usually. Hans clearly liked a challenge because Henry could hardly see the targets, the arrows were poor quality and the bow was old. He lined up a shot, missing completely. He didn’t dare look at Hans.
“The targets are too damn small,” he grumbled after missing twice more. He could almost hear Hans rolling his eyes.
“Stop complaining and focus.”
“Easy for you to say,” Henry replied, squinting at one of the ducks. He really concentrated, lining up another shot, “you didn’t fall off of a cliff.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“My bow arm is weak,” it was a lame excuse but it was all he had. And it wasn’t a complete lie. It may have happened a while ago now but he still suffered some complications as a result now and again. He heard Hans sigh.
“You just need to correct your posture,” Henry felt Hans beside him, his hands moving to his hips to manoeuvre him. The contact was too fleeting and Henry could still feel his hands there even after he removed them. He was moving his arms, now, adjusting his elbows, “how does that feel?”
Henry nodded, hoping he didn't look as flushed as he felt, “yeah. Good.”
When he fired his next shot, Henry still didn’t hit it but he got the closest he had since he’d started. Hans looked pleased, stepping closer again.
“That’s good,” his hands were back on Henry’s hips. He gently tapped his foot against the blacksmith’s ankle, “just spread your legs a bit more.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Henry said without thinking. Hans laughed but he hadn’t taken his hands off of Henry’s waist yet, which was very distracting.
“What, is this the Henry of Skalitz flirting?”
The man in question shrugged, clearing his throat, “what if I said yes?”
Hans looked up, meeting Henry’s gaze. He opened his mouth but whatever he had been about to say disappeared when he noticed Katherine watching them, somewhat amused.
“Thought I’d find you two here.”
“Katherine,” as if practised, Henry and Hans stepped away from each other instantly. Whilst Henry pretended he still had interest in his archery lessons, Hans gathered some of the wooden dogs, “Zizka having me followed now, is he? I can’t say I mind so much if you're the one doing it.”
“Down boy,” Katherine said, ignoring the cheeky wink he sent her way. She gestured at Henry, “it’s this one I want. The bathmaids need more healing remedies.”
“You wouldn’t understand, sir,” Henry clapped his shoulder, lingering slightly longer than was necessary, “this is a job for a more mature, more handsome man.”
“In that case, I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for one.”
Henry gave Hans one final heated glance before he joined Katherine, picking up his scattered firewood and herbs. The walk back to the Den was mostly spent in silence with Henry silently praying Katherine wouldn’t mention whatever it was she had seen. But the good lord wasn’t that merciful…
“You two seemed close.”
“It wasn’t what it looked like,” Henry shrugged, playing it off light-heartedly, “he was just helping with my positions.”
Katherine nodded, “yeah, that’s what it looked like.”
Henry couldn’t help but laugh; it was that obvious, he wondered how many of the others knew. He couldn’t find it within himself to care, though. He finally sheepishly said, “I can’t take it anymore.”
“Neither can we,” Katherine said honestly, sighing. They were almost at the Den when she admitted, “there’s a bet going.”
Henry’s eyes widened incredulously; he jogged to catch her up, the shock of her words having slowed him down, “what? What do you mean?”
“I can’t tell you that,” she said deviously, an evil grin on her face, “I have twenty groschen riding on it.”
She left Henry standing into the middle of the baths, blinking as he tried to comprehend what just happened.
He spent the next few hours at the alchemy bench, brewing healing potions for the bathmaids; by the time he made it back to his room he was quite eager for a nap. However, every time he closed his eyes he saw Hans. His perfect posture wielding a bow with ease, the bowstring pulled tight, his arms bulging with the effort. He groaned, opening his eyes and staring at his ceiling. He had to do something about these feelings but what, he didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure Hans felt the same way. Why would he? He was always on about whoring and wenches. Henry sat up ruffling his hair in frustration. All this shit because Hans looked so good holding a bow? He was pathetic.
Just as he’d decided to forget all about it and leave well enough alone, an arrow sailed elegantly through the open window and hit the wall opposite. Henry leapt from his bed, extracting the weapon from the wall. He didn’t even bother reading the note attached as he hurried over to the window.
“Are you mental?” Henry yelled, looking directly at the love struck nobleman who currently looked like a deer in headlights. He attempted to hide the evidence behind his back. Henry pointed at him accusingly, “you could've killed me!”
Hans scoffed, also pointing and shouting, “I can hardly be blamed if you’re leaning against the back wall like a fucking idiot!”
In the background near the combat arena, Henry could just make out Janosh and Adder watching the scene in front of them, passing a handful of coins between them now and again. He’d deal with them later.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Forgive me for trying to be spontaneous,” Hans sounded annoyed and Henry hated to admit it but he was even prettier when he was mad. He folded his arms, pouting, “did you even read it?”
Henry held up the arrow pointedly, tearing off the note in question. He made a show of unfolding it and reading it in front of him. If you want another lesson, come to the woods. After dark. HC. Henry wordlessly folded the note, tucking it into his pocket. The nobleman continued to glare at him, waiting for his response. As were Janosh and Adder.
“I suppose I still have something to learn.”
“That’s what I thought,” Hans answered bitterly although there was no mistaking the pleased spring in his step as he walked away, even if he did add, “arsehole.”
Janosh and Adder seemed happy with their bets, that was until they passed Henry later on as he made his way to the woods, the unmistakable scent of Lion perfume following behind him in the air. The two of them exchanged glances, one again swapping coin. Adder nudged his friend, nodding towards Henry.
“Powinnam mu powiedzieć, że moja rada dotyczy również mężczyzn.”
Janosh shrugged, “he figure it out.”
When Henry arrived at the clearing, Hans was once again practising archery by the light of a few candles. He couldn’t possibly see anything and if he could that just wasn’t fair. He sighed, approaching Hans from behind. Boldly, Henry wrapped his arms around his waist, kissing at his neck slowly. The nobleman barely moved, firing another arrow.
“If you’re trying to distract me, it’s not going to work.”
“I’ll stop, then,” Henry said with a menacing smirk, letting go of Hans and stepping away. The other man sighed, lowering his bow and turning to face Henry. He leaned in for what he hoped was going to be a passionate embrace but Henry stopped him, pressing a finger to his lips, “the others have a bet going.”
“Really? About us?”
“Mmm,” Henry nodded, sitting down on the blankets spread out across the ground. He reached for some wine, appreciating Hans’ thoughtfulness. He even brought some flowers. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, handing the wine to Hans, “probably about which one of us gives in first.”
“Well, we can’t give them the satisfaction,” Hans said with an innocent smile, deliberately missing his mouth with the wine and letting the red liquid trickle down his mouth and onto his exquisite golden pourpoint. Henry couldn’t look away even as he nodded slowly.
“Right. Exactly…”
They sat in silence for a while. Hans tilted his head back, watching the stars as he fingers idly toyed with the buttons on his top. Henry wanted to watch the stars, too, but he found himself watching Hans, his wine stained jawline, his neck, his strong arms. The silence was deafening. The one and a half minutes they’d been sitting quietly felt like weeks to Henry. Eventually, Henry couldn’t take it any longer and he cleared his throat.
“Or we could lie about it?”
Hans let out a long, relieved groan, “finally, I thought you’d never ask!”
He practically leapt at Henry lips first, the two of them landing in a heap on the blanket not that they cared. They just continued exchanging heated kisses, their hands tugging at clothing.
When they arrived back at the Den the following morning, it was with practised distance and lack of intimacy. Thankfully, no one seemed to be awake which would make their lie easier to pull off. Still, they dare give anything away. They made their way towards their shared room, intended to pretend they’d been there all night. They almost made it, too, until Katherine left the room next to theirs looking very pleased with herself.
“Ah, Henry, thanks for the coin,” she said smugly, playfully nudging him, “I knew you had it in you.”
Henry blushed, quickly grabbing Hans’ elbow and shoving him into their room, slamming the door shut behind them. Hans also looked smug and in that moment Henry thought, fuck it. They were happy for them, in their own way. He grabbed Hans’ waist and pulled him closer.
“You know what, I would’ve bet against me, too,” he kissed Hans teasingly, smirking as the noble wound his arms around him, “and I don’t give a fuck.”