Pairing: Lorne/Kavanagh pre-slash
Word Count: 1284
Summary: There’s more than one type of cold.
Prompt: For October 17th challenge at slashing_lorne: ‘write a drabble/ficlet about Lorne and his lover in extreme cold weather’. And ‘061: Winter’ for fanfic100.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never have been, never will.
Major Lorne pulled the shivering scientist close. He’d gotten rid of the top layer of both of their wet uniforms, but the freezing cold torrential rain had their underclothes soaked too. The cold stone of the large, hollow cave they were taking refugee in wasn’t helping much in conserving heat.
“We need to get rid of another layer.” He said worried at how blue the other man’s lips had gotten.
Kavanagh nodded and tried to pull off his top, fumbling as his fingers refused to bend normally. Lorne rubbed his own hands together, desperate for even the tiny amount of heat that action generated. He’d already tried blowing on them, but his own breath was startlingly cold. Getting his hands warm enough to co-operate took several painfully long moments but eventually it was enough for him to strip first himself and then Dr. Kavanagh, until they were both in their boxers only.
Kavanagh, still shaking uncontrollably, was starting to slip out of consciousness. His eyes fluttering closed, despite his best efforts to keep them open. The dark lashes a stark contrast to his deathly pale skin.
“Hey stay with me now Doc.” Lorne said, pulling the other man close. His voice contained just a hint of panic. He didn’t know where the rest of the team were, or if they were in any shape to get help. He didn’t know how long the rain was going to last, or if the few supplies he had managed to keep hold of in the gale would be enough. “Help’s on its way.”
Kavanagh croaked something that sounded like derisive disagreement. Lorne started rubbing his arms, his legs slipping in between Kavanagh’s longer ones. “So doc, any ideas on what makes the rain so cold in this place?” He asked, trying to keep the scientist engaged.
“Too complicated.” Kavanagh muttered back, his teeth chattering. “You…wouldn’t understand.”
Lorne chuckled, resting his head on Kavanagh’s shoulder, his chest to the scientists’ back. For a brief moment, the intimacy of their position struck him as awkward but there was no way around it, so he didn’t worry about it.
“Ok so tell me a story….something less complicated,” Lorne requested. Despite everything, he still managed to sound more or less like his usual, laid-back self.
Kavanagh didn’t reply at all. Lorne could tell he was hoping that if he ignored his military escort he would get left alone. He was out of luck of course; Lorne kept pushing. “How did you find out about the SGC?”
Feeling just a touch warmer, Kavanagh worked up the energy to reply, keeping his answer as succinct as possible. This didn’t satisfy Lorne though and he kept peppering him with questions.
He’s not sure when he fell asleep, or how long for, but he woke up with a start. The sensation of being so close to another body almost alien – especially a male body. He’d been forbidding himself this pleasure for far too long, it was never worth the risk. But now that he was in the situation, he found he couldn’t help but tighten his hold just a little and nuzzle deeper into the scientist’s neck, breathing in the unique sense of him.
“What are you doing Major?” A groggy voice asked.
“You felt like you were getting cold again, and you were still out of it.” He replied without a beat. The only sign of his guilt was a slight speeding up of his heart, but it had slowed down so much in the cold, that it was barely perceptible even to himself.
“Hmm,” Kavanagh muttered, not sounding at all happy. Of course there were plenty of reasons for that.
Lorne rationed out the next portion of food and covered them with their still damp clothes again, trying not to move too far away from the other body whilst he did so. They ate slowly, both of them stretching out the mediocre meal of one third of an MRE as much as possible.
The next few hours were spent in pretty much the same manner as before their short nap. Lorne kept up a stream of questions for the scientist. Kavanagh finally seemed to have gotten into the spirit of it, or maybe he’d been worn down enough, and held up his part of the conversation.
Without knowing why, Lorne found himself telling the indifferent man personal details of his life. It took the rest of the day before the rain stopped, just as abruptly as it had started. Kavanagh was laughing weakly as Lorne finished telling him about the time he’d skinny-dipped in college, and someone had ran off with his clothes.
The harsh drumming of the rain against the wall of the cave ended and they both paused. Neither moved for a few minutes and then suddenly they both did together, rushing to the entrance of the cave, their clothes wrapped around them as best as possible.
The sun was starting to come out and Lorne could already feel the warmth on his face. He started laughing, relief mixing in with hope and after watching him like he was crazy for a moment, Kavanagh joined in.
It didn’t take them long to put on their clothes, pack their stuff and head back to the ‘gate. Lorne kept an eye out for the rest of his team on the way. It was the first thing he asked as they stepped back into Atlantis. Thankfully, they’d all made it back already.
Carson rushed them both straight to the infirmary and didn’t let either of them out of his sight for several hours. After which he made sure his nurses kept them in sight.
It was the next night before Lorne saw his quarters again. It was a relief to be back and he took a long shower, thinking up the heat on the water as high as he could stand it. The glass panels in the small room were full of thick condensation by the time he got out.
Putting on a comfortable old sweatshirt and woollen pyjama’s he got into bed, doubling up the standard military sheets to cocoon himself in. He should have been warm. This was supposed to be the most comfortable he had been in a very long time. But there was still a bone-deep chill that he just couldn’t get rid of no matter what he tried.
He knocked on Kavanagh’s door three hours later. It was late enough that he hadn’t bothered changing. Kavanagh answered the door, looking exactly like Nick felt. He was wearing thick jogging bottoms and an old basketball shirt that was slightly too short for him. His eyes were the type of bloodshot red that only came from attempting, unsuccessfully, to sleep. His long hair looked like it had been tied up in a hurry and some of it was flowing around his shoulders, messily.
The scientist opened his mouth to say something, a mocking scowl already in place, but then seemed to think better of it, stepping away from the door to let Lorne in. Lorne walked in without a word and let the door slide shut behind him.
Now he was here, he couldn’t think of a thing to say and he couldn’t remember why he’d decided to come. “Couldn’t sleep?” Kavanagh muttered eventually.
“Too cold.” He answered.
“Me too.” Kavanagh agreed, walking over to the bed and getting under the thick Athosian-looking quilt he must have acquired from somewhere. Nick watched him for a moment before following him in.
He didn’t have time to think about how much of a bad idea this was, before he was asleep, warm and comfortable with Kavanagh’s long arms and legs wrapped around him.