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Warmth, in your arms

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 "You're restless," Hugh states, looking up over his book. His eyes are curious and perhaps a touch worried but completely free from the agitation that the words might otherwise be interpreted by someone else. 

 Paul, however, is agitated and he cannot hide that from his response. "I'm cold, if I stop, I'll freeze. It doesn't matter how many layers I put on."

 Hugh, ever patient and kind Hugh, marks his page and places his book down. He only makes a small gesture with his head, but Paul more than willingly obliges him. He comes to sit on the large cushioned ledge by the window that Hugh has been sitting on for the past couple of hours reading, and at this close proximity to the glass and the relentlessly frigid tundra beyond, he wonders how Hugh isn't affected by the drop of temperature yet.

 They had received notice of a temporary powerout after a distant avalanche had taken out a power grid and the back-up batteries. The notice came a little late, after their power in their small secluded cabin had already gone out earlier this morning. The resort eased their concerns, saying that are working on sending around logs for the fire to those stranded without power and a supply pack with food, but they were still some hours away - as it is a hard slog through the unexpectedly thick snowfall. Their circumstances are not dire, but the heat within the cabin has been falling steadily, and Paul has felt any kind of warmth rapidly beginning to elude him despite his best efforts.

 As Paul sits down, crossing his legs underneath him, Hugh takes his hands in his. While his hands are not as warm as they usually are, they are much, much warmer than his. They feel like a blanket of fire enveloping his. 

 "You're freezing, Paul," Hugh blessedly rubs Paul's hands between his, the friction tingling but not penetrating the deep cold that has settled through him. "You're shivering, too. Did you take your hypo this morning?"

 "No, I forgot," Paul replies in a small voice, hiding the fact he's averting his eyes by bringing Hugh's arm hands up to his frozen nose. "The power outage and news of the avalanche distracted me," 

 Hugh peels his hands out of Paul's, cupping his cheek for a moment - which Paul unconsciously leans into his touch, chasing that warmth - before pressing his fingers to his neck, to manually check his pulse. 

 “No wonder you're so cold, your blood pressure has dropped a little." He says kindly after a few moments and without judgement that Paul had missed his daily dose. "I'm glad we're forced to not go anywhere today in that case. C'mon, come here," 

 Hugh pets his lap, then opens his arms and without protest Paul folds in around him perfectly, pressing up against him, their chests together and arms around one another. Paul's hooks his legs up and over Hugh's and around his waist. Rubbing his hands slowly over Hugh's back, urging him fractionally closer, Paul rests his head on Hugh’s broad shoulders. In turn Hugh also buries his head in Paul's neck. They simply stay huddled together, two perfect pieces slotting in together.

 After some time and Paul feels a small amount of warmth beginning to creep back into him, he’s is so comfortable in Hugh's embrace, but he notices something... 

 "Hugh, are you hard?" He hadn't noticed at first, or when it had happened, but in their soft touches and shared warmth, Hugh must be delight in in the closeness more than he realised.

 Hugh just hums against his neck in affirmation, mildly amused. He is smiling against his skin, Paul can feel the mirth in his smile as he begins to kiss Paul's neck, while his hands find their way creeping up from beneath the hem of Paul's jumper. Paul shivers at the touch. Hugh's fingers had grown cold while left exposed to the cold air around them, or perhaps because he had adjusted to a state that is warmer than them now. They're are more cold than the warmth he had become used to already so the reaction to press in closer to Hugh is so automatic that he wouldn't have had a chance to stop it, even if he wanted to. He didn't want to, and from Hugh's moan, quiet on the edge of  his breath, he figures the same for Hugh, too.

  “I like having you close,” Hugh’s quietly whispered words send embers racing along Paul’s slowly warming skin. 

 Warmed hands slink around his body as lips warmer still catch his. The last remnants of cold in him fights against Hugh's slow and enveloping kiss, Paul longs to give himself fully over to everything Hugh is inviting him into. Distracted by his lips, and the way that Hugh's hands thaw every inch of his thighs blissfully, even through the thick fabric of his fleece pants. When Hugh bites down onto Paul's lip, tugging on it, running his hot tongue along it distracting him so much in the moment that he doesn't at first realise Hugh's hand sliding over his abdomen, then down below his waistband. His breath hitches and shudders out at the contrasting sensations; the cold air quickly attacking the residue that had built up at his tip when Hugh pulls him free of the constraints of his pants, and the encasing warmth of Hugh's large, strong hands perfectly wrapped around him with a pressure so perfect it could only be learnt from endless nights spent in ardent worship of him. 

 Relinquishing a sigh and happily giving in Hugh's ministration, he lets himself be unabashedly drawn into his burning light and endless warmth, the very last of his iciness melting away entirely in Hugh's hand.

  The cold air evaporates between them entirely, transformed by their breathy gasps between slow and messy kisses. In the heat of it all Paul doesn't know when his hand finds its way around Hugh's cock to work him all the same as which Hugh is working his, a moment later? More? He doesn't know as time itself melts away as they languidly conjure a maddening heat together. Hugh's breath is hot against his neck as his pants tighten as he too melts under Paul's touch. Though a humid, thick haze he isn't sure which one of them comes first, but their names are lost on breathless proclamations of desire for one another.

 With cheeks now thoroughly flushed, hot breaths slowing between kisses that are even slower and their now thoroughly warmed up bodies press together in a less desperate plea for a shared closeness. Easing together in a comfortable warm glow, their breaths may slow, but the chilled air around them gains no longer given privilege to enter this space between them, not even the patches where their cum had landed on their pants, soaking through and being chilled by the air bothered them.

 Someone has shatter the perfect orb of bliss they sat in first. It is Hugh who goes to move first, and Paul cannot bear the thought of the cold setting back into him in his absence. Breaking out of his dream like state, he reaches for Hugh's arm and grips tightly, for as much as his hand will allow to capture. 

 "Stay," he pleads, barely above a whisper.

 Hugh responds only with a smile, that is so warm, loving and so perfect that it is probable that it alone couldn't deter the unyielding barrages of snow outside of their little cabin, their little perfect world.

 So he stays. Hugh reaching only for the blanket behind him to wrap around them both to fend of any unwelcome encroaching chill as they lay together in the window of their cabin, warm and safe in each other's arms, watching the blizzard beyond. 

 

//end