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Vasily smirked as he watched Sora stroll away with both children in his arms. An afternoon nap curled up with his mate sounded like a little slice of heaven. He just had to convince Amaru that he had to sit still long enough to fall asleep.
Vasily hunted down his mage while his head churned. Some of the ideas he had to lure Amaru into his tent were half-baked in the extreme, but really, Amaru was unpredictable. Predictably unpredictable might be a better way to put it. If talking about technology and tools, he was predictable. In terms of wants or words, Vasily couldn’t begin to guess what he’d do next.
After fifteen minutes walking around camp, he finally found his quarry. Amaru sat cross-legged on the grass, a notepad in hand, scribbling something furiously. The closer he got, the better he could see the page, but that didn’t mean it made any sense. It was all in a language he couldn’t read, with lots of numbers. Felt like he was staring at advanced calculus, and Vasily couldn’t do calculus if his life depended on it.
He stepped around and kneeled at Amaru’s side. The mage was so locked inside his head, he didn’t even notice someone had joined him. He kept writing, flipped the page, wrote some more, came back to the previous page, and grimaced.
“Damn lightning dragons,” Amaru muttered crossly before flipping the page again. “It’s their fault after all. I figured. Ugh, I can’t wait to get Irany awake so I can shake his ass—”
Sora had not been understating how much Amaru needed rest. He was dangerously sleep deprived. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he was so tired he couldn’t seem to sit up for more than a second before his body tried to drop. He was constantly jerking himself back upright. He reminded Vasily of a toddler fighting sleep.
Shiiiit. This was not good. His frustration rose another notch. How could he possibly have missed this? Well, he knew how he’d missed it. He did not know right this second how to fix everything, but at least in this moment he could get his mage to sleep.
He put a gentle hand on Amaru’s shoulder. “Amaru?”
For a second, he wasn’t sure if any of that penetrated. Then Amaru’s head jerked up, eyes blinking owlishly as he visibly switched tracks.
“Oh. Hi, handsome!”
He smiled. Amaru was cute like this, all defenseless looking, even if it alarmed Vasily too. “Hi yourself. Why don’t you come to the tent with me?”
“Why?” Amaru was sleep deprived but apparently not stupid. “You’re trying to get me to sleep, aren’t you? Sora said I needed sleep. Ha! I’ll sleep when I’m dead. I’ve more important things to do.”
Damn, his guard was up. Why was he resisting this so hard? If Amaru were a toddler it would make sense. But most adults yearned to take naps. Right now did not seem to be the moment to argue the point, but he was certainly going to dig into this later. For now, he’d switch tactics. “You’d think more clearly after a nap.”
“I napped for five hundred years and I’m not even the one who enjoys that!”
Just like wrangling a toddler. Just like it.
Amaru stopped suddenly, squinting at his own handwriting. “I just wrote a sentence.”
“Yes, you did.” Vasily almost said that as a question.
“I don’t know what it means.” Amaru stared even harder.
Um. Yeah, somehow he had to convince Amaru to come to bed. There was no telling what he’d do if left to his own devices. Unsupervised.
“Amaru, don’t you want to be able to read your own handwriting?”
“Of course!”
“Then don’t you think you need sleep to clear your head?”
Amaru stared at Vasily like he was trying to put those two sentences together, but they kept getting tangled up somewhere along the line, causing a whole disconnect. “So that went from what the fuck, to what the fuck, to I don’t remember what started this?”
So persuasion had failed. Time for a second tactic.
He leaned in, scooping Amaru up, and stood. Amaru felt incredibly right in his arms—perfect really. Like he’d been born to be held close to Vasily. He swallowed hard around the emotion. He couldn’t think that without thinking of Luka, which damn near broke his heart.
“Uppies?” Amaru looked around in confusion. Like he couldn’t figure out why he was suddenly off the ground. “Where we going?”
“How about you come with me?”
“You’re trying to make me sleep again,” Amaru said accusingly, like Vasily was some kind of serial killer. “I have enough coffee to outlast you. Let go.”
“I’m not asking you to sleep.” Lie. But could he convince Amaru otherwise? More at eleven. “Just lie down with me.”
He expected Amaru to remain suspicious. Instead he abruptly lit up like a treat had been offered. “Snuggles? You want snuggles?”
