"What kind of question is that?" Heahmund said and there's a flare of temper there and he focuses on driving instead and there's a roll of his eyes at Ivar's grumbling.
"If you'd rather be alone you can go."
He actually slows down the van to a stop and glances at Ivar. "Would you rather be alone?"
Ivar looks outside. He's tempted to just unhesitatingly say yes and leave, letting Heahmund go off to do whatever he was before he'd been helping Ivar find his family. But part of him is torn. Now that he's learned to be around a companion, he doesn't want to leave and be on his own all alone again. It's not a good way to be. People were meant to have company.
Plus, there's his unresolved feelings towards Heahmund himself, which definitely figure into the equation. Ivar just sits there for a few minutes, thinking slowly. Part of it is deliberate because he knows it will aggravate Heahmund too. Eventually, he shakes his head. "No. I don't."
Heahmund had been relatively confident that Ivar wouldn't leave -- he's not sure what he would have decided to do had the other left. He would have inevitably stopped him -- probably. But Ivar doesn't and so he starts to drive again, his hands gripping the wheel tight and he's a bit irritable about Ivar.
There's a lot that he doesn't admit about his young companion. Things were... complicated... between them which would have been absurdly normal in normal times but maybe that he allowed things to be this complicated in an apocalypse was an absurdity to an insane degree.
Ivar doesn't say anything else for a long while. Instead, he slumps down in the seat as he rolls the window down, placing one arm on the window frame while he props his chin up on it and stares out the rolling landscape around them. There's so few people these days, just the sight of a few shambling zombies here and there.
After about half an hour, he speaks again, not turning to look at Heahmund. "You never answered the question." The one about what Heahmund thought of Ivar. Heahmund was infuriatingly good at dodging questions when he didn't want to answer them.
"And I don't intend to," Heahmund said, which is more of a direct answer than Ivar would usually get. At least he's answering. But he didn't know what he should say, what words are exactly the right words to say or even for sure what he did think of Ivar.
Ivar gives him a withering glance that could have lit a zombie on fire with its power. Really, was it too much to ask for Heahmund just to be honest for once? "Well, that's very helpful. You've got all the verbal skills of a mule, you know that?"
Heahmund is utterly unperturbed by the look that Ivar sends his way. He’s used to the teen and his moods by now and this is just another one of them in a way.
For that, Ivar picks his axe back up off the floor of the van, reaches over, and smacks Heahmund hard with the flat part of the blade again. He deserves a bruise for the way he's driving Ivar absolutely batty. "On second thought, getting out of the car and striking out on my own is sounding pretty tempting."
"You never know. One day you might wake up and just find me gone without leaving so much as a note to remember me by." With how tenuous the strands of life in the zombie apocalypse could be, there was a chance this could happen anyway. All it took was one wrong move: bitten by a zombie and succumbing to the disease, eating rotten food that led to being poisoned, breaking a limb that left the person to face the slow death of starvation. Anything was possible.
He's still quite annoyed that Heahmund simply won't answer the question. Why can't he ever just say what he means?
Heahmund glances over at Ivar again and he lifts a shoulder. It's true enough. He can't argue that. He still highly doubts that Ivar would chose to leave anytime soon and Heahmund would do everything to prevent other fates from befalling the young man.
Heahmund is content to let them fall into silence as he continues to put as much distance between them and the herd as possible before nightfall.
It's a few days later. Ivar's still been sulking over the fact that Heahmund had been right and he'd been wrong, but he was far too proud to say so. Also there was the fact they needed to find him a new wheelchair. The closest hospital was still some distance away, so he was out of luck till then.
They'd settled down for the night. This time, it was in a fairly deserted area, enough so that they'd decided to sleep outside for once, pulling blankets and sleeping bags out under the starts. It was a fairly warm night, so the fire was allowed to die down as soon as it got dark so as not to attract zombies or scavenging humans.
Ivar stared at the glowing embers, watching Heahmund slowly fall asleep. He couldn't really focus on much besides his feelings for the man. Heahmund drove him crazy. Still, he'd become such an intricate part of Ivar's life that he couldn't imagine being without him. Maybe it was better not to ruin their relationship.
Fuck it.
They could die tomorrow, so Ivar wriggled out from his sleeping bag, and crawled over to Heahmund, who appeared to be in a light doze. Without a word, Ivar leaned over and kissed him.
It was difficult for Heahmund to sleep. Heahmund hadn't slept easy since finding Ivar. Something about having the young teen with him had him in a constant state of needing to be aware so that he could protect him -- regardless of the fact that Ivar was typically capable of taking care of himself, the need was still ever present. But he was only human and the biological need to sleep won out now and then. The area was thoroughly scouted and a perimeter of makeshift alert systems had been set up to his satisfaction before he'd laid down.
He'd dozed off before Ivar moved but the rustle of him getting out of his sleeping bag and coming over to him had him roused before he was kissed. So he was awake when it happened. It wasn't the first time. Ivar'd kissed him in the crowded space of the van. Heahmund had rebuffed him, he was always rebuffing him. Ivar was young, and it would certainly matter a lot before zombies had taken over the world and it still mattered on some level to Heahmund.
But there was more to Ivar than his youth and he wasn't that young either, despite Heahmund's guilt associated with the desires, the growing affection that was anything but platonic. Would it have happened if Ivar weren't the only person around? It's hard to say. Heahmund couldn't answer it honestly even to himself.
This time he gave in, kissing Ivar back. It was subdued, he was still groggy with the sleep hanging onto the fringes of his consciousness.
Ivar's never really cared for anyone romantically the way he cares for Heahmund. Perhaps it was just their close proximity at all times that had led him to this. But it didn't matter what could have been. It only mattered what already was. Ivar knew he he'd fallen for the stern, taciturn man. But it was galling to know he didn't care for him the same way.
At least he'd thought so until Heahmund started to kiss him back on this warm summer night.
He wraps one hand around the back of Heahmund's neck, resting there amidst the short black hairs as he continues to kiss Heahmund. Ivar doesn't want to break it off for thought that Heahmund would come back to his senses. He'd think about the repercussions about this later. All he wanted right now was a little happiness in a world gone mad.
Heahmund would have found it ludicrous to know that Ivar had ever thought that he didn't care for him at all. He would have thought that his feelings were quite obvious. After all, he was always quite determined to protect the young man and eventually he might have left him to fend for himself with how difficult he could be if there was nothing else underlying his feelings.
He continued to kiss Ivar even though he knew that he shouldn't. It was anything but wise and getting lost in this would leave them both unclear for the things that it took to survive this world. His hand brushes over Ivar's cheek and he breaks the kiss after a few more moments.
When Heahmund breaks the kiss off, Ivar puts a hand on his cheek, keeping him from turning his head away. "Don't say it. Don't tell me this is wrong or that you don't want this." His voice comes out in a ragged, raw whispered tone, his feelings clearly bleeding through them.
It will break his heart for Heahmund to once again pull away, push against the feelings that they both knew were there. He'd been the one consistent thing in Ivar's life since the world had gone mad, the only fixed point in Ivar's life, like the North Star guiding him.
"I wasn't going to," Heahmund says, though, it's true that it is wrong. He does want this, though. His hand slips back into the other's hair briefly. "It isn't wise here," he said. They were out in the open, there was little room in such a situation for distraction.
That hand in his hair is such a simple touch and yet it's still almost enough to drive Ivar near to distraction. So Heahmund does care for him on more then a platonic level. He's been wanting this for a long time, maybe from the first time he'd seen the man sniping zombies with expert precision.
He looks up as if Heahmund's words will summon a pack of zombies down on them. "The van?" He makes as a suggestion. It was safer then just being out here on the ground.
It's not much more wise in the van but it does at least provide more protection. He glances around and at the fire that was dying down.
"It will be better than out in the open," he concedes. There's a part him still reminding himself that this is wrong and that Ivar is little more than a child even though Heahmund knows him to be old enough to make the decision it's still on his mind that he is much older than Ivar.
Ivar scoots back a little, allowing Heahmund to sit up. He'll have to carry Ivar to van unless he wants to watch him slowly crawl. He shifts himself so that he can get up on Heahmund's back. It's not the first time they've ever had to do this.
Once they get to the van, Ivar shifts back down and pulls himself into the vehicle. He waits for Heahmund to get in too. Before Heahmund can get any chances to start getting cold feet, Ivar pushes him down onto the thin mattress.
It's not hard to carry Ivar. He'd gotten used to it rather quickly, though been a strange thing to do and he'd been worried about doing so. He managed not to hurt the teen thus far, though.
Heahmund isn't getting cold feet but he does think that he's doing something wrong as he gets into the van and even as Ivar pushes him onto the mattress. The van is hardly comfy but nothing is particularly comfortable now days. Every once in a while an abandoned house that's easily fortified but they can't afford to stay in such luxury for any long length of time.
Ivar's voice is low and harsh as he speaks to Heahmund. "If you say anything like that one more time, I swear to God I will hit you." How very romantic. Still, if Heahmund didn't want this, he would have already said so or pushed Ivar away. He hadn't done either, so at least they were on the same page about this.
Ivar leans down and kisses Heahmund again. There's heat and passion behind it, the pent-up emotions of the previous months all finally coming to the surface. Ivar is tired of being cautious, knowing each day might be his last. He wants to feel pleasure, to be alive if only for one night.
He runs a hand underneath Heahmund's shirt and across the hard muscles of his chest. His fingers linger over the few scars his companion has. He's never told Ivar how he got them, just another thing to infuriate the teen.
"And that will get you what you want," Heahmund snorts a bit sardonically. But he doesn't say it again even though he's thinking about it. He's thinking about what he should be doing and that they're putting themselves in danger this way, in many ways. But he doesn't pull from the kiss and doesn't do the responsible thing this time.
He reaches his hand behind Ivar's neck, gripping firmly as he kisses him back and the other's intensity crashes over him in a wave. He feels the other's hand under his shirt and the fingertips over scars that are rarely touched, and even more seldom Heahmund being willing to speak about them.
Heahmund doesn't make his own exploration yet, simply curling his hands harder against his neck.
Ivar is slow, wanting time to last as long as possible. There might not be another time, for Heahmund might build up his walls again, or he might die tomorrow, leaving Ivar all alone again. So his kisses build up in a leisurely manner, his lips meeting Heahmund's softly at first before pressing harder. As much as he wants to greedily explore Heahmund's body quickly, instead, he takes his time.
His fingers move over his skin, letting the warmth be absorbed by his fingertips and the nails scrape along the contours of his body. Ivar's always relied on his hands, so they're quite sensitive to the touch. Eventually, he starts to pull Heahmund's shirt off, eager to move his mouth over his chest.
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"If you'd rather be alone you can go."
He actually slows down the van to a stop and glances at Ivar. "Would you rather be alone?"
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Plus, there's his unresolved feelings towards Heahmund himself, which definitely figure into the equation. Ivar just sits there for a few minutes, thinking slowly. Part of it is deliberate because he knows it will aggravate Heahmund too. Eventually, he shakes his head. "No. I don't."
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There's a lot that he doesn't admit about his young companion. Things were... complicated... between them which would have been absurdly normal in normal times but maybe that he allowed things to be this complicated in an apocalypse was an absurdity to an insane degree.
"I thought not."
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After about half an hour, he speaks again, not turning to look at Heahmund. "You never answered the question." The one about what Heahmund thought of Ivar. Heahmund was infuriatingly good at dodging questions when he didn't want to answer them.
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“Better than a zombie’s.”
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"If you were going to you would have already."
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He's still quite annoyed that Heahmund simply won't answer the question. Why can't he ever just say what he means?
maybe another timeskip?
Heahmund is content to let them fall into silence as he continues to put as much distance between them and the herd as possible before nightfall.
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They'd settled down for the night. This time, it was in a fairly deserted area, enough so that they'd decided to sleep outside for once, pulling blankets and sleeping bags out under the starts. It was a fairly warm night, so the fire was allowed to die down as soon as it got dark so as not to attract zombies or scavenging humans.
Ivar stared at the glowing embers, watching Heahmund slowly fall asleep. He couldn't really focus on much besides his feelings for the man. Heahmund drove him crazy. Still, he'd become such an intricate part of Ivar's life that he couldn't imagine being without him. Maybe it was better not to ruin their relationship.
Fuck it.
They could die tomorrow, so Ivar wriggled out from his sleeping bag, and crawled over to Heahmund, who appeared to be in a light doze. Without a word, Ivar leaned over and kissed him.
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He'd dozed off before Ivar moved but the rustle of him getting out of his sleeping bag and coming over to him had him roused before he was kissed. So he was awake when it happened. It wasn't the first time. Ivar'd kissed him in the crowded space of the van. Heahmund had rebuffed him, he was always rebuffing him. Ivar was young, and it would certainly matter a lot before zombies had taken over the world and it still mattered on some level to Heahmund.
But there was more to Ivar than his youth and he wasn't that young either, despite Heahmund's guilt associated with the desires, the growing affection that was anything but platonic. Would it have happened if Ivar weren't the only person around? It's hard to say. Heahmund couldn't answer it honestly even to himself.
This time he gave in, kissing Ivar back. It was subdued, he was still groggy with the sleep hanging onto the fringes of his consciousness.
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At least he'd thought so until Heahmund started to kiss him back on this warm summer night.
He wraps one hand around the back of Heahmund's neck, resting there amidst the short black hairs as he continues to kiss Heahmund. Ivar doesn't want to break it off for thought that Heahmund would come back to his senses. He'd think about the repercussions about this later. All he wanted right now was a little happiness in a world gone mad.
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He continued to kiss Ivar even though he knew that he shouldn't. It was anything but wise and getting lost in this would leave them both unclear for the things that it took to survive this world. His hand brushes over Ivar's cheek and he breaks the kiss after a few more moments.
"Ivar..."
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It will break his heart for Heahmund to once again pull away, push against the feelings that they both knew were there. He'd been the one consistent thing in Ivar's life since the world had gone mad, the only fixed point in Ivar's life, like the North Star guiding him.
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Ivar is Heahmund's biggest distraction.
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He looks up as if Heahmund's words will summon a pack of zombies down on them. "The van?" He makes as a suggestion. It was safer then just being out here on the ground.
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"It will be better than out in the open," he concedes. There's a part him still reminding himself that this is wrong and that Ivar is little more than a child even though Heahmund knows him to be old enough to make the decision it's still on his mind that he is much older than Ivar.
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Once they get to the van, Ivar shifts back down and pulls himself into the vehicle. He waits for Heahmund to get in too. Before Heahmund can get any chances to start getting cold feet, Ivar pushes him down onto the thin mattress.
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Heahmund isn't getting cold feet but he does think that he's doing something wrong as he gets into the van and even as Ivar pushes him onto the mattress. The van is hardly comfy but nothing is particularly comfortable now days. Every once in a while an abandoned house that's easily fortified but they can't afford to stay in such luxury for any long length of time.
"This isn't wise."
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Ivar leans down and kisses Heahmund again. There's heat and passion behind it, the pent-up emotions of the previous months all finally coming to the surface. Ivar is tired of being cautious, knowing each day might be his last. He wants to feel pleasure, to be alive if only for one night.
He runs a hand underneath Heahmund's shirt and across the hard muscles of his chest. His fingers linger over the few scars his companion has. He's never told Ivar how he got them, just another thing to infuriate the teen.
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He reaches his hand behind Ivar's neck, gripping firmly as he kisses him back and the other's intensity crashes over him in a wave. He feels the other's hand under his shirt and the fingertips over scars that are rarely touched, and even more seldom Heahmund being willing to speak about them.
Heahmund doesn't make his own exploration yet, simply curling his hands harder against his neck.
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His fingers move over his skin, letting the warmth be absorbed by his fingertips and the nails scrape along the contours of his body. Ivar's always relied on his hands, so they're quite sensitive to the touch. Eventually, he starts to pull Heahmund's shirt off, eager to move his mouth over his chest.