Prompt #13 - Winter
Title: Winter
Author: tearsofbloodx
Rating: PG
Pairing: Miles/Alex
Word Count: 1098
Summary: Written for prompt #13 on my prompt table.
A/N: First fic I've written in a few months actually, inspired by this picture.
Disclaimer: Still don't own them, and never will.
Miles had known that the Russian winters were cold, very cold even, but no matter how many shirts he wore under his brown coat, or how many socks he forced over his feet and into his black, tight shoes, he seemed to loose every ounce of warmth that his body held. And Alex appeared to be in no better situation.
When they had stepped off the plane in Moscow and felt the sudden, freezing air, Miles had dragged Alex to the nearest shop offering respectable hats (he didn’t fancy walking around with a furry animal on his head). Alex had protested, saying it wasn’t that cold and that his hair was coverage enough. But Miles persisted and, with the help of several demonstrative hand movements and a few ill-pronounced Russian words, managed to walk out of the shop with two plain, black, woolen hats. (He’d contemplated buying Alex one of those with a big tuft on top of it, just to annoy him. But he knew that Alex would just refuse wearing it and in order for him not to freeze to death, Miles would have to lend him his own hat, and he’d be forced to wear the tufted one himself...)
They’d met up with Romain the next day and discussed the video. He had a few interesting ideas, the only downside being the fact that they’d have to spend a whole day outside, in the cold.
Miles wrapped his scarf tighter and pulled his hat further down over his ears as he and Alex stepped out of the car that had taken them some miles north of the capital. The landscape was quite remarkable. Everything was completely covered in white (almost glowing) snow; the sky was free of clouds and further ahead was your typical pine forest (branches glittering in the sunlight). Though, Miles though, this didn’t make up for the fierce wind that was stinging his cheeks and watering his eyes. His toes were ice-cold already (even under several layers socks), and his gloved hands were deeply tucked into the pockets of his coat.
He glanced over at his band mate and smiled sadly at the sight; Alex was a shivering mess. Miles knew for a fact that Alex wasn’t wearing as much clothing as he was himself, and felt sorry for him. At least he’s wearing the hat...
They both had an idea of what they were supposed to do, something involving big tanks, running in the snow and lip-syncing the song multiple times. The running he wasn’t objecting to, anything for a little warmth, but these tanks both worried and excited him.
What made Romain think that it was acceptable, Miles had no idea, and he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry when he was told to take off his warm and comfy hat. What purpose could this action possibly have? And when he saw Alex’s clearly pained face, he winced.
Within an hour they’d been ushered up on one of the tanks, and the cold was somehow even worse up there; maybe it was their hat-less heads or the increasingly persevering wind. They were huddled up and Miles wanted nothing more than to take shelter inside and envelop Alex in a warm, bone-crushing hug (his poor band mate was shivering worse than ever and his lips had a light-blue tinge to them). And Alex had a look on his face that gave the impression of a longing for something similar.
By the end of the day Miles’ whole body ached and his throat was painfully dry from all the lip-syncing he’d done (which he surely would be able to do in his sleep by now). He and Alex had ran, walked, rode, stood, leaned and sat with the help of those bloody tanks, and when Miles had seen their hats poking out of Romain’s backpack, he’d nearly lost it.
When they finally took a break, Miles couldn’t restrain himself any longer. He subtly walked over to Romain’s backpack, leaning against one of the cars, and swiftly snatched the two hats out of it. He moved away unnoticed, and casually slipped one of them onto his head. The feeling of warm wool was heavenly.
After slipping on his own hat, he tugged his band mate towards him and a little more forcefully thrust the other one over Alex’s red, icy ears (making sure to let his hands linger). Alex smiled at him gratefully as Miles’ rubbed his gloved hands up and down Alex’s shivering arms.
Miles stepped away as he felt the urge to embrace him start to build up again (though to be honest, it never really disappeared).
Upon seeing Alex’s now clearly blue lips, Romain thought it a good idea to finally let them both return to the hotel. He was apparently pleased with the outdoor footage but told them to be up at nine the next morning. They were filming the rest of the video in an old theatre and some disused tube station. Thank god!
---
Miles thought he’d never be warm again. The shower had been useless and the radiator in his room was barely lukewarm, not to mention the badly isolated walls (and his usually warm and soft pyjamas that was making no difference). He tossed, turned and shivered underneath the duvet, and he almost preferred the French bedbugs to this. Almost.
His shivering increased as the night grew colder, and he wondered how Alex was doing. They’d been given rooms wall to wall, but Miles didn’t want to wake him up in case he’d managed to fall asleep.
But as the time went, and the city quieted down, he could hear shuffling and creaking through the thin wall. Alex is no luckier then. It wasn’t long before he heard the padding of feet and the click of a door shutting. Miles didn’t have to wait long for the knock that he knew was coming.
“Miles?” Alex’s voice was quiet and muffled through the door.
Miles didn’t answer and instead crawled out of the bed, his body still stiff and aching.
He opened the door and Alex’s trembling form was revealed.
“Can’t sleep,” Alex muttered, but with a small smile playing on his lips. “Too cold.”
Miles knew what Alex wanted (this was hardly something new) and he wasn’t one to decline, especially not now. The warmth of another body against your own was better than any cosy pyjamas or thick duvet.
Their shaking bodies were soon still, and within minutes both of them had fallen asleep. A tangle of limbs and two content smiles.
---
Comments make me smile :)
Author: tearsofbloodx
Rating: PG
Pairing: Miles/Alex
Word Count: 1098
Summary: Written for prompt #13 on my prompt table.
A/N: First fic I've written in a few months actually, inspired by this picture.
Disclaimer: Still don't own them, and never will.
Miles had known that the Russian winters were cold, very cold even, but no matter how many shirts he wore under his brown coat, or how many socks he forced over his feet and into his black, tight shoes, he seemed to loose every ounce of warmth that his body held. And Alex appeared to be in no better situation.
When they had stepped off the plane in Moscow and felt the sudden, freezing air, Miles had dragged Alex to the nearest shop offering respectable hats (he didn’t fancy walking around with a furry animal on his head). Alex had protested, saying it wasn’t that cold and that his hair was coverage enough. But Miles persisted and, with the help of several demonstrative hand movements and a few ill-pronounced Russian words, managed to walk out of the shop with two plain, black, woolen hats. (He’d contemplated buying Alex one of those with a big tuft on top of it, just to annoy him. But he knew that Alex would just refuse wearing it and in order for him not to freeze to death, Miles would have to lend him his own hat, and he’d be forced to wear the tufted one himself...)
They’d met up with Romain the next day and discussed the video. He had a few interesting ideas, the only downside being the fact that they’d have to spend a whole day outside, in the cold.
Miles wrapped his scarf tighter and pulled his hat further down over his ears as he and Alex stepped out of the car that had taken them some miles north of the capital. The landscape was quite remarkable. Everything was completely covered in white (almost glowing) snow; the sky was free of clouds and further ahead was your typical pine forest (branches glittering in the sunlight). Though, Miles though, this didn’t make up for the fierce wind that was stinging his cheeks and watering his eyes. His toes were ice-cold already (even under several layers socks), and his gloved hands were deeply tucked into the pockets of his coat.
He glanced over at his band mate and smiled sadly at the sight; Alex was a shivering mess. Miles knew for a fact that Alex wasn’t wearing as much clothing as he was himself, and felt sorry for him. At least he’s wearing the hat...
They both had an idea of what they were supposed to do, something involving big tanks, running in the snow and lip-syncing the song multiple times. The running he wasn’t objecting to, anything for a little warmth, but these tanks both worried and excited him.
What made Romain think that it was acceptable, Miles had no idea, and he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry when he was told to take off his warm and comfy hat. What purpose could this action possibly have? And when he saw Alex’s clearly pained face, he winced.
Within an hour they’d been ushered up on one of the tanks, and the cold was somehow even worse up there; maybe it was their hat-less heads or the increasingly persevering wind. They were huddled up and Miles wanted nothing more than to take shelter inside and envelop Alex in a warm, bone-crushing hug (his poor band mate was shivering worse than ever and his lips had a light-blue tinge to them). And Alex had a look on his face that gave the impression of a longing for something similar.
By the end of the day Miles’ whole body ached and his throat was painfully dry from all the lip-syncing he’d done (which he surely would be able to do in his sleep by now). He and Alex had ran, walked, rode, stood, leaned and sat with the help of those bloody tanks, and when Miles had seen their hats poking out of Romain’s backpack, he’d nearly lost it.
When they finally took a break, Miles couldn’t restrain himself any longer. He subtly walked over to Romain’s backpack, leaning against one of the cars, and swiftly snatched the two hats out of it. He moved away unnoticed, and casually slipped one of them onto his head. The feeling of warm wool was heavenly.
After slipping on his own hat, he tugged his band mate towards him and a little more forcefully thrust the other one over Alex’s red, icy ears (making sure to let his hands linger). Alex smiled at him gratefully as Miles’ rubbed his gloved hands up and down Alex’s shivering arms.
Miles stepped away as he felt the urge to embrace him start to build up again (though to be honest, it never really disappeared).
Upon seeing Alex’s now clearly blue lips, Romain thought it a good idea to finally let them both return to the hotel. He was apparently pleased with the outdoor footage but told them to be up at nine the next morning. They were filming the rest of the video in an old theatre and some disused tube station. Thank god!
---
Miles thought he’d never be warm again. The shower had been useless and the radiator in his room was barely lukewarm, not to mention the badly isolated walls (and his usually warm and soft pyjamas that was making no difference). He tossed, turned and shivered underneath the duvet, and he almost preferred the French bedbugs to this. Almost.
His shivering increased as the night grew colder, and he wondered how Alex was doing. They’d been given rooms wall to wall, but Miles didn’t want to wake him up in case he’d managed to fall asleep.
But as the time went, and the city quieted down, he could hear shuffling and creaking through the thin wall. Alex is no luckier then. It wasn’t long before he heard the padding of feet and the click of a door shutting. Miles didn’t have to wait long for the knock that he knew was coming.
“Miles?” Alex’s voice was quiet and muffled through the door.
Miles didn’t answer and instead crawled out of the bed, his body still stiff and aching.
He opened the door and Alex’s trembling form was revealed.
“Can’t sleep,” Alex muttered, but with a small smile playing on his lips. “Too cold.”
Miles knew what Alex wanted (this was hardly something new) and he wasn’t one to decline, especially not now. The warmth of another body against your own was better than any cosy pyjamas or thick duvet.
Their shaking bodies were soon still, and within minutes both of them had fallen asleep. A tangle of limbs and two content smiles.
---
Comments make me smile :)