Rayne Drops: Bickery for Two

The Start of Misery

GOT THIS SUGGESTION FROM A READER OF FANFICTION.NET AN KIND OF... TWISTED INTO A FULL BLOWN WAR BY ACCIDENT... WHOOPS.

In any other circumstances, this would be weird. I shake my head and snuggle closer to my only source of heat, feeling myself drift off into blissful sleep despite my sore muscles and joints. After a late night of fighting off flan and iron giants as we searched desperately for a haven, we're completely exhausted. The edge of sweet unconsciousness approaches, sucking me down into darkness and...

Gladio stirs, grunting. I sigh, keeping my eyes shut and praying for him to go back to sleep. The prospect of sleeping in is a pleasant one considering the amount of running around and fighting we've been doing lately. No such luck.

"Get off me," Gladio grumbles, though he doesn't move.

"You're warm," I mumble, refusing to open my eyes and snuggling closer to the tattooed back facing me.

"Off."

"No."

"Rayne."

"I'm trying to sleep, Gladio."

"I'm trying to..."

"Shh..." I hush, running an ice-cold finger down the curve of his spine and feeling the goosebumps that raise up with devilish smile. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me if you're not ready."

"Okay," he scoffs, rolling onto his stomach and pushing himself up to his hands and knees. His amber eyes are hardly held open and the left side of his face is red with an imprint of the folds in his sleeping bag. "What'd Iggy put in that soup?"

"I didn't get any," I groan, flopping an arm over my face to block out the warm glow of the sun through the walls of the tent.

"You have a secret stash of alcohol somewhere then?" he asks. "Strange mushrooms? Cactuar spines?"

"Maybe," I grin, raising my arm to grin at him. "I could hook you up."

"Please don't... hook up in... here," Noctis mumbles sleepily, flipping onto his other side and dozing off. I give Gladio my best puppy eyes.

"Please come back?"

"No."

"Why not?" I challenge. "It's not weird, I'm just cold."

"Then come out to the fire," Gladio shrugs, tugging off his sweats and reaching for his usual leather pants. I huff, shielding my eyes.

"Warn a girl before dropping your pants. I can basically see through your underwear."

"Yeah, if you stare long enough." I can almost hear the stupid grin on his face.

"Well I stared long enough, and I must say, I'm not impressed."

"I think you're..." he starts cockily.

"You don't have Iggy's nice legs," I explain smugly.

"Get up," Gladio huffs, kicking at my side. "We gotta move today."

"Don't poke me with your feet," I snap playfully, though my voice is muffled by my forearm. I yelp when he kicks me just a bit harder in the ribs. "Gladio!"

"Up," he repeats. Glowering up at him, I push myself up into a sitting position. "All the way."

"Takin' it slow today," I yawn, stretching my arms over my head. Shaking his head, Gladio shrugs on his leather vest and heads toward the tent flap. I grin, lunging forward and wrapping my arms around the leg he steps forward. Then I tug backward toward me, knocking him off balance onto his face. He gives a pained grunt upon colliding with the ground. "I told you not to kick me," I say sweetly, climbing over him to leave the tent. I easily evade the lazy swipe he makes at my own ankle.

"Fighting already?" Ignis asks as I saunter up to his kitchen setup. He hands a paper plate loaded with eggs and a slice of buttered toast. I accept the plate gratefully, grabbing a fork and sitting by the fire across from Prompto.

"That's normal at this point," I remind him. Gladio steps out of the tent, brushing his messy hair back with his fingers and taking his plate from Ignis with a nod.

"You're slippin' something in her food, Iggy," Gladio accuses, dragging a fold-up camping chair over and sitting beside me. "Rayne's never in the mood to molest people's backs."

"I wasn't molesting anything," I scoff. Prompto fights a smile, pretending to be fully absorbed in his phone screen.

"I can assure you her meals are just the same as yours, Gladio," Ignis replies, dusting off his hands and pushing his glasses up swiftly. "Is Noct coming?"

"Prince Charmless is snoozing the day away," I muse, pushing my eggs around on my plate. I'm still freezing; the Cleide isn't exactly known for its warm, sunny weather. "Some beauty sleep might do him some good before he sees Luna."

"Might do you some good too," Gladio retorts. Prompto snickers and Ignis suppresses the small smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth.

"Whatever you say, you giant @#$ behemoth," I mutter.

"I'll get him up," Prompto offers, looking up at Ignis. Noct's advisor nods and the blonde scrambles to his feet. Gladio shovels another forkful of eggs into his mouth and I shake my head, taking out my phone and checking for any texts.

"Oh," Gladio says around his food. "This..." I tense as wet chunks of egg roll off my hair, down my clothes, and onto the ground around me. "Is for tripping me."

"Gladio!" I shout, shaking the cold eggs out of my shirt and flicking a piece off my phone screen, grimacing at the wet smudge it leaves. Gladio just grins and gets up to put his plate back at the cooking station. "Iggy!" I protest when the advisor simply shakes his head and pulls his black apron off. Leaping to my feet with plate in hand, I charge toward Gladio, determined to let him know how it feels to have cold, slimy, cheese-covered eggs smashed between his jacket and his ridiculously warm back.

"Absolutely not," Ignis says sharply, standing in my way. He grasps the plate and pulls it free from my grasp. "Since you don't seem to appreciate the work I put into your meal, you can go without it."

"But he...!"

"No," Ignis cuts me off and shakes his head, turning away to take care of my dish. Gladio gives me a smug smile and summons his sword, heaving it onto his broad shoulder.

"I'm gonna go see if I can't get a garula or two before we have to leave."

"Stay safe," Ignis nods, continuing to wash up. Gladio jumps down from the high ledge of the haven and takes off into the afternoon fog. I'll get you later.

"What'd I miss!?" Prompto calls eagerly, trying to run out of the tent. Instead, his foot catches on the lip under the flap. I cringe when he falls face first into the rough rock of our campsite. He howls in pain, rolling onto his back and clutching his nose. His feet kick in the air wildly like a stuck adamantoise. "My nose is leaking! Help Ignis, I'm dying!" Noctis appears in the doorway of the tent, squinting into the daylight. "Oh, it hurts!" The prince takes one look around the camp, frowning at my egg-covered hair, Ignis's temple massaging, and finally at Prompto's rolling. Sighing, he shakes his head and turns back, closing the tent securely behind him with a breathy "Nope."