There was a softness in Rory’s eyes that made even the recent pain a distant thing. He had been so, so afraid… And in some ways he still was. Emotions that strong couldn’t be brushed aside or ignored so easily, but there was relief in knowing it was just a misunderstanding. Or at least, that even if they approached this… this friendship, this more than friendship, from different places, that still their hearts were in tune when and how it mattered most. They both wanted to be together, and for now… for now, it was enough.
He released chill fingers, but only so that he could raise Rory up and there was terrifying, dangerous moment when the hunter was so close and he was laughing and if Jigano head leaned forward just a little his lips would meet more than just fingertips—
Isuma chose that moment to switch shoulders, bouncing happily from Rory to the fox with something suspiciously like a self-satisfied chortle. The brief moment passed, but it left his heart racing with an odd mixture of regret and desire and the need to do something, say something, to let the other man know the effect he had on the once-glib bard. Flirting with friends was easy, a game he played to spice up his compliments, but ultimately without risk since he and they both knew nothing would come of it.
Flirting with Rory was an entirely different sensation, one that sent butterflies winging desperately around his stomach and filled him with warmth and a sparkling fizz of joy in his blood when the hunter pulled him outside with a playful, exuberant cry. Jigano let himself be led, laughing, out into the light where he could properly admire the way the sun caught and glowed golden in hair that, admittedly, needed a wash and a brush but was beautiful nonetheless. ”You’ve a poet’s soul behind those summer-sky eyes, sun-blessed shepherd,” he teased, giddy and heedless of the dignity he’d abandoned by the fireplace as clumsy words filled with admiration and unabashed fondness tripped off his tongue.
”I’ll get my harp,” he called back as Rory headed for the workshop, and the bard ducked back into the house for his bag and instruments. He returned to the yard first, but the hunter swiftly joined him with an armload of supplies… and of goatskins? Jigano grinned and bowed low – much to Isuma’s resigned balancing – before reaching out to rescue what he assumed were mats for them to sit on, so Rory could more easily juggle his other supplies. ”Near the pasture, so we can watch the ponies while we work?” he suggested lightly.
He released chill fingers, but only so that he could raise Rory up and there was terrifying, dangerous moment when the hunter was so close and he was laughing and if Jigano head leaned forward just a little his lips would meet more than just fingertips—
Isuma chose that moment to switch shoulders, bouncing happily from Rory to the fox with something suspiciously like a self-satisfied chortle. The brief moment passed, but it left his heart racing with an odd mixture of regret and desire and the need to do something, say something, to let the other man know the effect he had on the once-glib bard. Flirting with friends was easy, a game he played to spice up his compliments, but ultimately without risk since he and they both knew nothing would come of it.
Flirting with Rory was an entirely different sensation, one that sent butterflies winging desperately around his stomach and filled him with warmth and a sparkling fizz of joy in his blood when the hunter pulled him outside with a playful, exuberant cry. Jigano let himself be led, laughing, out into the light where he could properly admire the way the sun caught and glowed golden in hair that, admittedly, needed a wash and a brush but was beautiful nonetheless. ”You’ve a poet’s soul behind those summer-sky eyes, sun-blessed shepherd,” he teased, giddy and heedless of the dignity he’d abandoned by the fireplace as clumsy words filled with admiration and unabashed fondness tripped off his tongue.
”I’ll get my harp,” he called back as Rory headed for the workshop, and the bard ducked back into the house for his bag and instruments. He returned to the yard first, but the hunter swiftly joined him with an armload of supplies… and of goatskins? Jigano grinned and bowed low – much to Isuma’s resigned balancing – before reaching out to rescue what he assumed were mats for them to sit on, so Rory could more easily juggle his other supplies. ”Near the pasture, so we can watch the ponies while we work?” he suggested lightly.
