"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.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Ivar is Heahmund's biggest distraction.
no subject
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.
no subject
"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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.