Chapter Text
There was never any getting away from the essential greyness of airports, no matter how many bright splashes of colour the shops laid out, trying to persuade passers to buy at every stage bar the security checks. The supposedly soothing artworks and strategically placed bits of greenery weren’t much help either, about as useful as trying to stem a flood with tissue-paper. Really, it was astonishing that anyone bothered.
At any other time this current of thought might have run at the forefront of Stannis’ mind, filling him with the febrile warmth of resentment, but now it fizzled in the background as Stannis stood, pressed tight against the barrier in the Arrivals hall, eyes fixed on the doorway that divided it from customs as though a second’s inattention might cause him to miss the inflow of travellers from Lys, and among them Davos, absent now for four starving weeks.
It had not seemed so long when they had first discussed it, the months they spent together waned and flowed into each other quickly enough, so the days would surely follow each other at their usual rate, even if they were apart. And so they did, but Stannis felt the beat of every minute. He could pinpoint the moment when the hours greyed and began to drag precisely, it had started the day after Stannis had bidden farewell to Davos at the airport, when he had idly sent him a text at lunchtime asking him if he wanted to be picked up from the ferry-port. He realised his mistake as soon as he sent it, but he was still awake at 3am the next morning to receive Davos’ wry, yearning response. After that Stannis had not forgotten his absence again, indeed it would have been impossible to do so when every morning he woke to the sound of his own breaths, hanging thinly in the air without their counterpoint.
He tensed as the first few people trickled through the door, some hunching their shoulders and walking purposefully by, towards taxi or train, others slowing their steps and widening their eyes as they scanned the waiting crowd. He jerked his gaze impatiently away illogically resenting both them and those that called out to them and drew them into their arms. It would be soon, surely there wouldn’t be a problem at Customs?
This had been his secret fear, kept simmering in the back of his mind as he drove up to the airport. He knew Davos had passed through airports before without hindrance but there was always the fear that this time someone might make a note of his history and decide to investigate.
Stannis ground his teeth, dammit he had been satisfied that those days were well behind Davos and if some fussy airport functionary decided to quibble and keep them apart for a second longer than necessary he would... Well, he would wait, there was nothing else he could do, but oh how it grated.
Stannis had cast his eyes down as he frowned over this and he caught himself with a flash of panic, what if he had missed him? He quickly jerked his head back towards the doorway, cataloguing the faces between it and him and finding them all wanting.
And then there he was, slipping quietly around the doorway with that slight, tilted-forward posture that he adopted when he was weary. Davos paused and looked about him, pushing the strap of his bag into a more secure position on his shoulder as he did so, and Stannis found that his voice had failed him, though he was pressed so close against the barrier that, had it vanished, he would have been propelled forward into a run. He had half-raised his hand when Davos’ eyes, passing over the crowd for a second time, stuttered and came to a halt on his face. It was astonishing, Stannis thought, that even in the institutional electric light that made everything look fragile and false, Davos’ smile could so transform his features, making his perfectly ordinary skin look as though a light had been placed behind it. He was probably smiling too, and it would be an awkward, misshapen thing, but Stannis didn’t care. He had wished only for the sight of Davos, but now that he was there, as ever, Stannis’ desires multiplied and he turned away, fighting his way through the crowd to where the barrier came to an end, sacrificing his ability to see Davos on the promise that he might soon touch him once more.
In the end it was Davos who reached out first, grasping Stannis’ arm as he overshot the end of the barrier and reeling him back in. He had only a bare second of anticipation before Davos was in his arms, swinging his bag absently against Stannis’ side and curling his head into the crook of his neck.
“Gods,” Davos breathed out, long and slow, tightening his fingers in Stannis’ sweater, “you cannot know how much I have missed you.”
“I can,” Stannis replied, the whirl of the airport blurring around them as he turned his face from it, burying it in Davos’ tangled hair. “I can comprehend it without the slightest effort.”
He felt Davos smile against his skin before he drew back, though he still remained partially slumped against Stannis’ shoulder. Stannis looked down and catalogued the small changes in his face, how his eyelids hung a little lower than normal and how the delicate skin around his eyes; which had not been caught by the sun, was wan.
“You’re tired,” he said, “let’s get out of here”.
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The drive back to Dragonstone passed relatively quickly, once they got past Rosby the cars thinned out and Stannis was able to drive on into the dusk with little to hamper his progress, borne on the soft rise and fall of Davos’ voice. About five miles out from Dunskendale he fell silent, leaning his head against the window and reaching out to lay a warm hand on Stannis’ thigh. Stannis felt something in him quicken and speed up in response to this gesture but he suppressed it, chastising himself, Davos was clearly exhausted and would be seeking their bed solely as a place to sleep that night.
They shivered and quickened their steps as they walked the short distance between the car and the door to their staircase, after the sun had set the spring evening still had a sliver of ice in it and they shut the door on it gladly. Davos blinked at the light in the hallway and Stannis took one of the handles of the bag from him, as together they hefted it up the stairs.
“Do you want a cup of tea? Something to eat?” Stannis asked Davos, once they had hauled his bag into the living room, to be unpacked the next day.
“No,” Davos said, running his hand through his hair and smiling languidly, “let’s just go to bed.”
Stannis nodded and went to walk down the hall towards the bathroom, but as he did so Davos took a step towards him, knocking into him so that they both almost lost their footing, staggering against the doorframe.
“Whoops,” Davos grinned, then twisted slightly and brushed his mouth gently against Stannis, holding it there with only the slightest pressure.
Stannis felt his whole body slump forwards and down towards him, as though some constraining clasp had been broken, and then he was sucking on Davos’ lower lip, his hands running greedily along the line of his back, while Davos made a long, appreciative noise in his throat.
Stannis tried to pull back, but he only succeeded in getting as far as the side of Davos’ face, where he lingered, the bridge of his nose resting against Davos’s forehead, and spoke directly into his ear.
“You’re exhausted,” and then with greater firmness when Davos made a move to protest, “I can tell.”
“I am,” Davos sighed ruefully, pulling back a little so that he could look into Stannis’ eyes, “but dammit I want...”
Stannis swallowed sharply and tried to keep his voice under control. “I too.” He barely prevented himself from seizing Davos’ face and kissing him again when he saw him shiver at these words. “But there will be plenty of time for that,” he paused and cradled Davos’ cheekbone in his hand, fearing that his words would come out distorted under the weight of this rising, near-painful feeling, “let’s just go to bed.”
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They lay there, lamplit and with limbs tangled as Stannis slowly unbuttoned Davos’ shirt. “You were sitting out in the sun,” he said, noting that the warm golden colour that darkened Davos’ forearms did not end with his shirtsleeves, indeed, he discovered as he pushed the shirt off Davos’ shoulders, it went on to cover his chest, sinking down to his hip-bones. Stannis swallowed sharply, struggling with a confusing mixture of jealousy towards those who had been there to witness Davos, half-naked, his skin slowly being gilded by the sun, and appreciation of the effects of this process.
“Yes,” Davos smirked sleepily, “I thought it would be worth it. He gasped as, yielding to temptation, Stannis ran his tongue along his collar-bone, testing to see if taste, as well as hue, had been altered. Finding himself unsure of the results Stannis lingered there, pressing kisses along the shivering line of Davos’ shoulder, breathing in the scent of salt and a hint of faded suncream. He smiled as he felt Davos’ fingers, slow and clumsy against the buttons of his shirt and eventually he took pity, hauling himself up against the pillows and shrugging it off as quickly as possible.
He then shifted back down, pulling Davos in and pressing rapturously into his skin. At this, Davos gave a long shuddering sigh, winding his arms up around Stannis’ waist and curling his hands over his shoulders, fitting his chest against Stannis’ so that their breathing ebbed and flowed in perfect time. They lay there for a while, Stannis idly running his hands over ribs, pectorals, occasionally allowing himself to briefly pet at Davos’ stomach, and he felt his own eyelids droop as he listened to Davos’ breaths lengthen, stretching out into sleep.
Just as Stannis thought that Davos had finally slipped off into unconsciousness he saw his eyes open a crack, showing the barest sliver of brown.
“In the morning,” Davos said, almost indistinctly, evidently still a little troubled by their earlier conversation.
Stannis smiled and kissed a promise into the side of Davos’ mouth. “In the morning,” he agreed.