Tarit sat in a corner by the inner wall, surrounded by some cooks, maids, and a very drunken healer, and stared at the big fire Tristan had lit. Some Mages, peasants, and Pages stood by while others mingled in smaller groups in the cosy area behind the hind buildings of the monastery.
He waved when Tristan singled him out and nodded in a fatherly way. Tarit was thankful that Tristan was a good teacher and liked having him around. He had experienced it differently at home, and the sense of being welcome was reassuring.

Gimma was welcoming, and he didn’t regret a single day here. Except maybe the thing with Aik. Or the not-thing with Aik. The Mage was down by the bridge and flirting heavily with somebody whom Tarit hadn’t seen before, which by itself wasn’t unusual. Aik didn’t go for seconds.
Maybe it was the self-sacrificing part that rubbed him the wrong way. Or maybe Aik didn’t want to grant himself any kind of deeper connection. Again. Tarit knew he had no room to argue, given his terrible history of relationships or the lack of them. So Tarit did understand. He could agree to every argument Aik made; why he couldn’t do long-term, why it was a bad idea and why Benji was the most important person and always would be. He would nod at everything. But acknowledging the terrible truth that this Mage was bad news for any heart and believing it were two entirely different things.
“He’s not going to fall in love with the guy. You can stop shooting daggers,” somebody drawled next to him.
Tarit turned around and found Benji cheerfully dangling his legs on the sidewall, thoughtfully sipping his beer. That the boy with the angelic baby face was old enough to drink was mind-boggling, but how perceptive he was annoyed the apprentice even more.
“If you mean your brother, I don’t give a flying fuck.”
Benji hummed. “Yeah, I can totally see that.”
Tarit huffed and turned around, facing him. “Benji… what's your problem? Seriously, you shouldn’t be here. If I talk to you, he'll think I'm trying to get to him through you. I'm not in the mood for arguing with the butthead.”
Benji laughed, his voice clear and loud and carefree. Tarit wished there was a time in his life when he had the luxury to feel like that. “You know, some years down the road, there might be a girl who likes me enough to think about a little house and some cute kids. I’d make super cute babies, don’t you think?”
“Okay, yeah, you’d make little cute chubby babies with some cute girl, and you’ll have a cute little family. What does it have to do with me?”
Benji fiddled with his mug, watching his brother thoughtfully. “Nothing. Is it selfish to think he should find somebody to fall in love with, so I can feel less selfish about getting a serious girlfriend myself?”
Tarit already didn’t like where this was going. “Listen. I’m not the right person to tell this to. Seriously, talk about it with your brother.” 

Benji laughed, hopped down, and sat next to him. “Yeah, no. Trust me, he thinks anybody dating me is a cradle robber.” He moved closer, so close Tarit could feel his restless legs bumping against his own.

Tarit hissed. “Seriously, Benji. Go away. I don’t want to talk to—” 

“Benji.” Aik’s booming voice put a sudden end to their argument. Benji looked up to find his brother staring down at them. Hard.
Tarit turned around, glared furiously at the cackling Page, and leaned back. He didn’t want any drama.
“What are you doing here?”
“Nothing,” Benji said way too innocently.
“Let me rephrase. Why are you talking with Tarit?”
Benji inched closer yet again, and Tarit just wanted to shove him off the bench.

Tarit growled, “Gods, Aik. Get a grip. Your brother is just being a little shit. Go back to talking with your hookup. I won’t taint the holy virginity of your Page.” He gave Aik a fake smile with too many teeth and saluted with his beer. “Cheers. Now piss off.”
Aik’s mismatched eyes widened like he didn’t expect to be told off that harshly.
Both glared at each other, the silence already becoming uncomfortable, even for bystanders.
They didn’t see Benji slinking off like a cat, nor Aik’s catch of the evening getting tired of waiting and making his way back to the crowd by the fire.
“Sorry.” Aik scratched his scarred cheek.
Tarit sighed. “Listen… I…”

He stood up, brushed off some ash that had blown over, and looked Aik straight into the eyes. 

“You know that I like you. And I am tired of it. I am tired of...” He gestured between them, mimicking Aik every time he’d told him off. “...this between us. I can’t do this anymore.” With every hissed word, he stepped closer until he was in Aik’s face. Fire, reflected in his eyes, made them burn. “I don’t want to be the cheap fuck you’ll be okay with whenever nobody else is available. Next time you need something for work, go directly to Tristan. I don’t want to see your face for a while.” 

With that, the apprentice waved at some people and walked off. He didn’t look back. 

Aik swallowed audibly. He looked around, trying to understand his feelings. His stomach churned, and his throat locked up. His eyes swam. Probably from the smoke of the fire. He blinked several times, trying to clear his vision. Damn bonfire. 
He turned around and walked back towards the bridge. There were a lot of strangers. He’d find somebody to warm his bed tonight.

He didn't.

****

Thank you for reading. <3

All 13 parts are already available on my ko-fi.