Word Count: 386
Summary: Milos and Alex have a short but illuminating discussion on illuminations on a night-time field trip.
Alex glanced over at him. “I can set you on fire, if you like.”
“Ha. Move over.”
“Fine.” Milos had never seen anyone share with worse grace than Alex. Impressive, all things considered. “I thought you were used to this.”
“Why do you think I’d want to relive it?” He held his palms out to the pathetic propane camp stove. “Ohh, that’s nice...”
“You’ll burn your hands if you hold them that close.”
Milos snorted. “You’re suddenly worried about me? That’s a shock.”
Alex flopped backwards onto the damp grass and folded his arms behind his head. “If I have to write an accident report that says ‘my stupid elf partner burned himself on a camp stove’, I won’t be happy.”
“I’m not planning on it. Anyway,” the dokkalfa glanced down at the other man, “shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
“So should you.”
“I can’t sleep. It’s too bright.”
“You’ve got a streetlight outside your window, how is this too bright?”
Milos leaned back and stared up at the sky. “I’m used to those. This is...” He waved one hand vaguely above his head, at the spattering of white across the deep blue. “Weird.”
“How are the stars, as you put it,” he wrinkled his nose at the word, “weird? There’s hardly anything more natural.”
Milos lay back as well, hands resting on his stomach, and glanced at Alex’s face, lit by starlight and the campfire. “No stars in the cities.”
“No streetlights around old ruins either,” Alex pointed out, never moving his black eyes from the night sky. “So you better get used to these stars.”
“We’re not going to be here long enough for that.”
“More’s the pity.”
“Really?” Milos raised himself onto his elbows and stared at Alex, whose gaze was still fixed skywards.
“If you want to be in any way ready for tomorrow,” Alex said softly, turning towards Milos only long enough to take in his blank expression, “you will sleep underneath these stars. Understand me?”
Milos shrugged and dropped back against the grass, returning his attention to the sky. “Whatever you say.” When silence was his answer he looked back at the human. His eyes were closed, and he wore the peaceful expression Milos had only seen once before. It suited him.
Not that he’d ever tell him that.