Big Book Of Smornby One Shots

Scratches In The Night (S)

TW: Camp Counselor!AU

The cabin was eerily quiet as Ross got into his small bed. The ten bunk beds that lined the wooden walls were devoid of the boys that normally filled them, leaving himself and Smith alone at opposite ends of the large room. With the lack of murmurs and snores, Ross could hear a lot of sounds from outside the cabin that were normally drowned out: an owl hooting in a tree nearby, a rustle of leaves as wind passed through them, crickets chirping. It was quite relaxing, filling Ross with the hope of a good night's sleep in peace, until something scratched against the wall of the cabin next to him. He froze, even holding his breath as if to make himself invisible, listening for the noise again, but all he could hear was Smith's faint snores twenty-five feet away.

He dismissed it as just a tree branch or his tired imagination, and tried to get some sleep; they had a few days to get the camp ready for a new wave of campers, and he needed to be awake for work. Plus, if he looked tired, Smith would joke around with him, saying something about being up all night wanking or something else he wouldn't say around the kids. Ross would play it off, but he had to be careful to not let something slip; several nights Ross was left restless with memories of the day, from seeing Smith shirtless, glistening with lake water, or watching his toned arms pull back a bowstring, or countless other opportunities to stare at Smith.

Ross didn't really know what Smith's preference was. Several jokes Smith would make often seemed to hint at something, but the "obnoxiously obvious that it had to be a joke, but it's Smith so it may be serious" flirting was always paired with laughs and winks. One of the other counselors knew Smith, they came from the same village, but Ross never wanted to ask directly for fear that Trott might tell Smith. So, Ross was left in an annoying limbo of only assumptions.

The noise didn't seem like it was coming back; after lying awake for thirty minutes listening and thinking, Ross fell back asleep. The sun rose all too soon several hours later, drifting in through the window at just the right angle to point solely at his eyes. It did this every morning, but Ross always woke up on his right side, no matter how hard he tried to stay on his left. As usual, he put his arm over his face, trying to catch just a few more minutes of sleep. Normally, the boys or the horn that played over the speakers prevented him from sleeping again, but neither of those were going off today. Smith said he had set an alarm, so Ross trusted that to wake him up as he dozed off into sleep once more.

"Ross, mate, it's time to get up," Smith said in Ross's arms. Ross didn't like the idea of that, so he snuggled further into the crook of Smith's neck, stray auburn hairs tickling his forehead.

"Mmmmm, just five more minutes," Ross mumbled, with no intent of moving away from the body next to him in five minutes, but Smith wasn't having that for answer.

"Come on, you have to get up," Smith responded. Ross felt like he was being shoved on the arm, But the man in bed with him wasn't doing it, so he opened his eyes to see the culprit.

Ross was in his cot, alone, at camp, and Smith was standing next to his bed, shoving him in the arm lightly. "Good morning Sunshine," the real Smith answered in a tone like Trott's when he said "sunshine," ignoring the blush starting to creep up on Ross's face.

"I'm up," Ross mumbled, savoring the last feelings of sleep before sitting up and stretching his arms. The room was still oddly quiet and empty as he looked around, all the camper mattresses bare and empty.

"You better be," Smith said as he walked to his end of the room. "We have the exciting job of mucking out the horse stalls today." If it didn't smell so bad, Ross would actually like being in the barn. It had an amazing hay loft that had a wonderful view of the hills nearby, but all that manure stench wafted and collected up there along with the heat of the day.