He grimaced with a raised brow at the man, expression lit by only the candle, genuinely perplexed. The look he had on his face could only be described as disbelief. "You're joking. You really are bitter aren't you? That your way of dragging him down?" And he was going to pull Kevice with him from the looks of it. Well, nothing really kept him from just leaving, he could at any moment, storm out and go back to the safety of his own hammock. But he was willing enough to hear Vasyli out. What did Osran really care anyway? He figured it was all just a game, full of jokes, and regardless of who the elf was sharing his bed with would continue acting like an asshat. Osran just seemed like that kind of guy, definition of charm.<br/><br/>All this talk of pride, what a sick game. "I'm all for being a big bother to everyone around me and all but you're something else, you know that?" He stood there mostly, thinking it over still, obviously pensive about the whole thing. Arms crossed and eyes wandering. The sudden rules snapped him out of it with a "Hey hey hey...!" He shouted quietly, as loud a whisper he could manage. "Don't go accusing me of gettin' all handsy, if I wanted to get on your bad side I would've tried at the den. You really think I want to be in that human's position right now?" It was scary, actually. Kevice could only wonder what kind of sick spite Vasyli would've had for him if he continued being as he was when they met. Luckily his advances weren't so... charged. He'd always shrug it off as 'just how he was' and anyone else as the cold one.<br/><br/>Tempted to peek out the tent opening, he restrained himself,  the fuss he was putting up only heightened as Vasyli moved to leave a space on the bed free, casually asking that he stifle the candle before crawling in. He was at a lost for words, not really understand why, but still looked disgusted. Not disgusted at himself or the elf, but at the situation as a whole. What little buzz he might've had left was completely gone now, his head wasn't light, his eyes focused on Vasyli with a look of contempt.<br/><br/>"You're joking..." He repeated to himself. "Really serious about this sleepover thing eh...?"<br/><br/>It was hard to stomach, awkward, extremely awkward. It wasn't normal, it was so far less normal than sleeping with a coworker. He moved as if to leave, bringing his hand up a few times but never touching the mouth of the tent, hanging in the air  with futile effort. Kevice hated him, he really did. And he was so worried over his ass the whole night, and then gets asked to partake in some revenge party by cuddling up in bed like some sort of sterile spouse. He ran a tight hand up the back of his neck, over the coarse tufts of hairs that made up that mess of a mane.<br/><br/>Stiffly, he sulked over, blowing out the candle with a harsh puff like he had it out for the thing, and crawled into bed. He was mumbling the whole time, ending with a "I miss the bed of needles." Before shifting to lie on his side, facing away, obviously tense. He was the one acting like some kind of prude now wasn't he? The friendly, touchy Kevice trumped by some pompous elf and his rivalries. It wasn't all that bad, and maybe he was overexaggerating, but it was all certainly weird. Vasyli was weird. Maybe he was afraid of getting all frisky or something, but that would denote a lack of control over himself. And if Kevice had anything it was self control, right?<br/><br/>Needless to say, the half-elf didn't rest too easily, whether it was his own nerves, trying to avoid feeling a back or shoulder against him, or having to sleep without the gentle sway of his bed. At least when he was out on the town he was too involved in his friend for the night he forgot what comfort was, everything just came naturally. But Vasyli was making him think, and second-guess himself, and he hated it. He didn't keep track of what hours passed, the fact he creaked his eyes open to see the faintest glimmer of dawn shine between the cracks of the tent, still a low light, meant somewhere along the lines he had slept. Eagerly, he got up, though gentle enough to stay quiet and not rustle the bed too much. He took a brief moment to stare at the elf, brows knit and nose scrunched when he remembered the strangeness of it. Maybe coming back later with smuggled booze as a gift over the sap debaucle wasn't the best course of action. If anything, Vasyli owed him.<br/><br/>He left the tent, coat over his shoulder, head giving off a bit of an ache and eyes heavy. Kevice was no stranger to lack of sleep, but this one was particularly rough. The first thing he wanted to do was wash up before anyone else woke up to use the bath stalls, doing just that. Across the circus grounds, he hung up his coat nearby, splashing water in his face and shutting off the rusted faucet to move over and drape his arms over the low fence that bordered the area. A yawn, a tongue poking at the gums of his dry mouth, he stood there for awhile, enjoying what quiet he had until the greater bulk of the circus rose to prepare for a day's worth of entertainment.