Snowy Relations [Juno + Hiro_]

His body was disagreeing with him. He should have been collapsing in fatigue but his will was greater. He couldn't leave Anders to fend for himself. He knew nothing of himself or his past but something in him couldn't fathom such a cruel thought. It was only then that he spared the beast a glance, a glimmer of pity sparking in his eyes before fizzling out. He hadn't deserved it either. Neither of them did but what could one expect when they chose to live in this snowy wasteland? Is that how Anders would die? A frozen and lonely corpse?

Anton felt his eyes well up at the treacherous images his mind was currently taunting him with. Every time he dared to blink, all he saw was the lifeless body of the very man who had rescued him from the hands of death. The smell of blood hadn't left him and yet, he felt utterly repulsed. That was Anders' life dripping away. His life! And while his injuries may not have been too serious, Anton had seen enough. He didn't know why but he could scarcely stand to keep his eyes off his host. Almost as though keeping a constant eye on him would ensure his safety. He needed Anders. Badly.

Allowing Anders freedom to touch him as he pleased was not something he had decided on. It was simply the way things were. It was the way he understood things to be and if his host craved his presence, he would give it to him. The sound of his name was something he recognized and he found himself rising gently on his tiptoes as if awaiting some sort of command. Naturally, he understood nothing.

Glancing back at the beast, it was then that Anton leaned forward to the best of his ability, finding the simple act of bending to be quite taxing on his worn body. He pressed his cracked lips to his host's ear, speaking quietly and deliberately, as if he were willing him to understand. "Will you not rest?" he inquired patiently, regarding the wounded animal with another rare, pitying glance, "And L-...ud-...vig...? You both need rest." Growing slightly impatient, Anton more or less hobbled until he was facing Anders, eyeing him with a look of desperate determination. "I can do what needs to be done," he declared, using his hands in a poor attempt at making him understand, "At least...I can try. But you need to rest. Look at all the blood you have lost. Your strength amazes me but you will wear yourself out before the end. What needs to be done? I can do it. Allow me. Just rest."

He had a wild look about him, his pale-blue eyes gleaming with a faint light that somehow looked all the brighter when met with the dark circles he currently suffered. He was pale and sickly and absolutely out of his mind but Anton wanted to make it better. Whatever 'it' may have been.

By now many, if not all, of the smaller wounds had begun to clot and congeal, the larger of the teeth wounds seemed to struggle. As if debating whether or not it should continue to bleed out or just succumb to the desires of clotting. Even though this was the case, even though he should have been tending to his wounds as quickly as possible, he did not. He betrayed his own physical health for that of Anton’s; the other man moving in front of him, speaking with an almost harbored impatience. He knew not of what Anton said and he was sure it showed in his tired features, instead with a simple motion he lifted his hand once more.

“Shh…”

Even that was something that Anton could understand as calloused fingers brushed against the smooth, cool surface of his cheek. The hand moved forward some to cup the man’s cheek in his hand before slipping through to the back of the others hair. What was it like to kiss? Such an odd thought to cross his mind as he relaxed his fingers into Anton’s hair. The hair he had begun to equate to the riches of a king; was kissing pleasurable? Did he know how?

Perhaps it was because he loss much blood, for the haziness that begun to settle in his mind had begun to grow thicker. Or perhaps it was just his lack of touch with others, his curiosity running asunder upon the man who seemingly appeared from thin air. Perhaps, just perhaps it was because his instinct pressed him to continue as it had since he had met the man. Anders was more in tuned with his own natural instinct than most other men and for this reason one could only speak and say that its contributing factor was because he ran on instinct to hunt, a natural predator this man was. It was simply returning to basics to survive only the way a human can in harsh tundra. Whatever it was he would possibly curse or thank it later.

“Anton…”

He spoke to the other softly, a light huskiness in his voice. With no prior warning he pulled Anton into his lap, pressing the other against his chest as if in a protective manner but also possessive. His hand rested buried deep into the others golden hair, cupping it almost delicately. What would be the most shocking aspect of this scene would be the fact that they were connected, not through touch; no, but through their lips. Anders sought fit to kiss Anton, his lips pressed against the others weaker than he may have intended but it did not take away from the curiousness of the action.

There was a sullen cool feeling that spread through his body as they sat there, his injured hand twitching as if all the feeling had gone and he was trying to retrieve it through means of stimulation. It was an enjoyable kiss, one in which he took a great deal of pleasure from. Perhaps from the simple act or because it was Anton, who knew, but he knew for a fact it was a nice experience, his first experience. Who was this man? That thought crossed his mind again as he parted from Anton’s lips, neglecting to remember just what it felt like he felt the intense need to do it again, to repeat the feelings he seemed to have forgotten. A fleeting kiss, a fleeting feeling is what they would call it no doubt. But in that fleeting moment he had forgotten everything, his pain, his worry, Ludvig... Everything Except Anton.

It would have been impossible for him to miss the sudden shift in the air. It wasn't tense so much as it was heavy. Somehow, the bitter cold of their surroundings was a weak combatant of the current atmosphere. The calm silence was a stark contrast to the desperation in Anton's eyes as he studied his host, wanting nothing more than to ease his burdens and relieve him of all duties. Anders needed his rest. He couldn't heal if he didn't take proper care of himself. It was a mystery how he had gotten on so well until now.

Anton was almost tempted to stubbornly refuse Anders' gentle attempts as silencing him. Though, he really was no match for the man's knowing touch. Another wave of dizziness swept over him, but this was a welcome kind that always followed even the barest hints of intimacy that they shared. It was strange, they had only known each other for less than a day and already he felt as though he belonged by Anders' side. Leaving wasn't a thought he dared to entertain. A world without Anders...where would he be...?

He was growing awful fond of the way he felt when Anders touched him. It was warm and curious but considerate in a way that he was forced to appreciate. His host had never once forgotten himself when handling Anton. It made him feel...important. As though he mattered to this man even though they didn't know each other. That could be remedied in time.

He dealt his rescuer a questioning stare only to be pulled into his lap which was a little more than welcome. Before he could even think to speak, his lips were claimed in a tender kiss that shocked him to his very core. Whatever Anton may have been expecting, it certainly would not have been this. The warmth of Anders' lips forced the colour to return to his pale cheeks. There was a familiarity in this intimate act that confirmed that he had done this before. And all at once images began to hit him. Dead faces in the water and blood. Lots and lots of blood.

Knitting his brows tight, Anton did his best to banish these horrid thoughts and when they parted, he found that he was rendered speechless. Not knowing when he had closed his eyes (and not caring for that matter), Anton slowly reopened them, the pale blue irises glimmering with an untraceable emotion. He was careful as he raised his hands to gently cup Anders on either sides of his face as if he didn't dare allow him the opportunity to break eye contact. He brushed the pads of his thumbs down the man's face, admiring how warm the flesh felt. Yes, he had done this before and would continue to do so for as long as he lived.

Wordlessly, Anton sealed their mouths for a second time. This time, he gently took Anders' lower lip between his own and kissed it as gently as he could manage, silently aware of how well they fit together. Like two pieces of one unique puzzle. His kisses were brief but meaningful as he moved his hands from the man's face to gently take hold of his neck. His lips shifted carefully, pressing kisses wherever they went, the corner of his mouth, his chin, scattering along the flawless jawline, even to the tip of his nose.

He felt breathless as he finally forced himself to stop, their lips brushing momentarily before he leaned back to get a proper look at Anders' handsome face. It took several attempts before he could manage to form a coherent word and even then he struggled.

"Sorry," he murmured, cheeks tinted pink, though he dared not look away. Being apologetic didn't necessarily mean he was ashamed. He wasn't. He found no shame in wanting to kiss Anders. None whatsoever. "Sorry," he repeated, the tips of his fingers massaging gentle patterns onto the skin of his host's smooth neck, "I..." How could he tell Anders that he was enamored by his beauty? That each time he looked into those eyes he felt lost. That he could have gone on kissing him forever if it meant never leaving his side. Language barrier or not, some things were just impossible to explain and even harder to understand.

When they had parted Ander’s eyes had lifted to Anton’s face, his mind rushing with thoughts of the other hating him, perhaps even pushing him away. After all, Anders was taking advantage of Anton’s predicament, but what Anton did in return shocked him. Scared him almost, his eyes of an ocean blue widening as he watched the other. It was after a few moments did he calm his own quaking heart, his hand pressing against the small of Anton’s back pushing him closer into his own bare chest. The fingers working against his flesh were welcomed, Anders face pressing into them and into the kisses.

A soft groan left his body as he the kisses moved all over and then stopped it was a groan of loss; he wanted Anton to continue and having thoroughly enjoyed such pleasurable touches made him desire it all the more. He could not understand the apologies, nor could he decipher the thoughts of the other or the meaning behind his actions, he could only assume… Just as he had before and somehow he assumed that Anton was apologizing for doing wrong, yet assuming such a thing left him confused because Anton did not reflect shame.

He had forgotten all injury and all pain for a moment and in a lapse of judgment he moved his wounded arm to press his hand against Anton’s cheek. The pain that surged through him was an unhappy reminder that he had things to tend to and that Anton would have to wait. He leaned forward as he grunted out in pain, his head pressing against Anton’s shoulder a moment. His good hand lifted and he pointed towards the bed where he had hoped Anton would understand. Anders did not forget that Anton needed rest.

“Go…!” It was bit out and harsh toned as he turned his head away from Anton’s body in favour of searching for the things that would mend his body. He moved his hand against Anton’s chest pressing him off of his lap and towards the bed. “Go..!”

Wincing harshly as he turned to the things he had prepared. Things such as healing salve he had stored, cloth bandages too; moving his arm to rest against his knee he turned back to the water that once held a boil and dipped his cloth back into it, it was mildly hot now, at least his hand could dip in with no fear of burning. Beginning to clean his wounds again he clenched his teeth tightly bearing the pain through defiancy.

Anders' intense pain registered in Anton's mind almost immediately after his host felt it. The hazy look his eyes had begun to adapt all but disappeared, darkening the pale blue hues as he studied the man in rising alarm. A part of him was resentful that their intimate moment had been cut short and another, more sensible part of him was terribly worried for Anders. He felt guilty for having taken advantage of the situation now. Had it been that easy to forget that the man was hurt? There really was no excuse for that.

The harsh tone Anders took when dismissing Anton was more alarming still. He winced inwardly, fearing he had offended his host beyond repair and would be banished back out into the unforgiving cold. It took a few moments for him to realize that he meant for him to return to the bed. It was difficult to Anton to assess the situation. He couldn't know for sure whether Anders had come to his senses and decided that what had occurred between them was not to his liking, or simply the fact that he was in pain and didn't need Anton making the situation worse.

He slowly got off of his rescuer, giving no indication that he planned on returning to the bed laid out for him. He watched in total silence as Anders once again took on the task of tending to himself, taking note of the way he clenched as though he were proving a point. Anton knew he could bear the pain but that didn't make it any easier to watch. All the same, he was stubborn and refused to leave his host's side.

"You may banish me from your lap but not your side," he explained in a surprisingly patient voice, not caring that Anders wouldn't understand him, "You don't allow me to help. Am I to lie around at all hours while you hiss and tense and pretend that you aren't suffering? If anything, you should be the one going to bed." It was terribly frustrating for him. On one hand, he wanted to be the one who cleaned those terrible wounds and yet, something about being that close to blood was frightening for him. Yet again he was at a point where he felt utterly useless.

"Perhaps I could clean up for you?" he suggested quietly, growing more and more anxious by the moment for reasons he couldn't quite grasp.

The flesh upon the tip of his ears burned, the heat making him get a sense of dizziness as he bit back more pain. As much as Anders wanted Anton to stay with him and by his side it would have been better if the man had simply gone back to rest. It would have been much easier for Anton, for Anders, and for Anders pride. However, this was not the case.

With a faint wince Anders dropped the damp cloth back into the heated water and grunted softly, his fingers running along the unclean flesh rather tenderly as he tried to assess how deep and damaging the wound really was. “Please rest…” His words were low and his eyes never met Anton’s, perhaps because he was too embarrassed at his pain or perhaps because he knew Anton would merely be another distraction.

After a moment of assessing the wound he once more went about the task of cleaning his wound while every so often he’d glance in the general direction of Ludvig. He was avoiding Anton’s eyes, or rather avoiding looking at the other. He wasn’t ashamed of what he did and yet, he was not happy or proud at the fact that he did it. Lifting his good arm, he rubbed the fore part against his forehead while letting a deep sigh leave him. Why did things have to be so difficult?