( Urianger has learned that there's nothing quite like a long, hot soak after a day of working one's muscles to their limit. He's not fool enough to imagine that he's gained any strength yet, or increased his stamina more than a pinch, but in moments like these he can remind himself that his aches and pains mean that he's nevertheless making progress where he wasn't before.
Thancred's regimen is hard-going, but relaxing with him in the aftermath is a quiet pleasure, and so when he'd suggested they head to the baths that evening Urianger had been only too happy to oblige. He's getting much better at this whole "public bathing" thing — better at allowing himself to relax regardless of who might be watching — although a pulse of fondness warms his chest when Thancred hangs back for the sake of his comfort.
Thoughtful man.
He's relaxed and settled in the steaming water when his friend strides towards their chosen bath with a towel around his waist and conversation on his lips—
But then a few things happen at once, and it's all a bit much if truth be told. )
Thancred—!
( Urianger half rises out of the water with one hand outstretched to his friend as he slips through the puddle and loses his towel — but what happens next? Well. He could never have prepared himself for it. Just as Thancred's unmentionables are about to become extremely mentionable, his modesty is temporarily saved as a wholly out-of-place nutkin leaps towards him from below. Urianger reels back in shock, loses his footing, splashes back into the bath, and a strangled shout escapes his lips as the Twelve themselves guide the nutkin towards Thancred's meat and two popotoes. )
no subject
( Urianger has learned that there's nothing quite like a long, hot soak after a day of working one's muscles to their limit. He's not fool enough to imagine that he's gained any strength yet, or increased his stamina more than a pinch, but in moments like these he can remind himself that his aches and pains mean that he's nevertheless making progress where he wasn't before.
Thancred's regimen is hard-going, but relaxing with him in the aftermath is a quiet pleasure, and so when he'd suggested they head to the baths that evening Urianger had been only too happy to oblige. He's getting much better at this whole "public bathing" thing — better at allowing himself to relax regardless of who might be watching — although a pulse of fondness warms his chest when Thancred hangs back for the sake of his comfort.
Thoughtful man.
He's relaxed and settled in the steaming water when his friend strides towards their chosen bath with a towel around his waist and conversation on his lips—
But then a few things happen at once, and it's all a bit much if truth be told. )
Thancred—!
( Urianger half rises out of the water with one hand outstretched to his friend as he slips through the puddle and loses his towel — but what happens next? Well. He could never have prepared himself for it. Just as Thancred's unmentionables are about to become extremely mentionable, his modesty is temporarily saved as a wholly out-of-place nutkin leaps towards him from below. Urianger reels back in shock, loses his footing, splashes back into the bath, and a strangled shout escapes his lips as the Twelve themselves guide the nutkin towards Thancred's meat and two popotoes. )