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The world faded in and out, just out of reach as the snow cradled him, one of his eyelids already frozen shut. His breath was shallow, each exhale hurting. He couldn't even shiver anymore, his body too weak to even let him cry out for help.
He was going to die in this godforsaken place. Klaus had told him to stay home in a blizzard, but he hadn't listened. He needed to deliver more letters, even though his cart wheel was broken, and the snow that was bound to perfectly preserve his regret for his father to judge once they finally dug him free began to smother him… His last thoughts would be of the large man who had only just begun to open up to him. If only he could hear him laugh once more…
"Jesper, you idiot."
The crunch of snow beneath heavy boots was akin to an angelic chorus, Jesper's heart thumping in his chest as he felt two large hands on either side of his body. Klaus's face was distorted, a concerned blur, thick brows drawn together as thicker hands cradled him. He felt fingers on his neck, feeling for his pulse. Then they moved, beginning to unbutton his coat.
"W…Wh-wh…?"
"Trust me." Came the gruff reply. The wind didn't even feel cold on Jesper's skin, even as he lay across Klaus's knee in his underwear. He felt the need to cover himself, yet couldn't move, his single working eye staring up at that bearded face.
He barely noticed himself moving as he was slipped beneath the heavy coat, his numb, blue skin suddenly burning as Klaus pressed his entire body against the bare skin of his chest, immediately swaddling him up again. Jesper blinked. His freezing body was pressed to the center of Klaus's torso, his flesh radiating heat like a furnace. His chest was firm, and Jesper whimpered softly as he felt a hand at the back of his head, his cheek pressing close to the pecs before him. As Klaus began to trudge home through the violent blizzard, Jesper felt his grip on him tighten. The warmth wasn't as harsh, slowly thawing him as he managed to regain control of his limbs. A deep grunt shook him as he wrapped his legs around Klaus's waist, securing himself as his arms snaked around his neck. He couldn't grip too hard, his body still extremely weak, but he appreciated being held so closely, so gently, with such care.
That was where he stayed, listening to the slow thump of the large man's heart, letting himself drift in and out of consciousness. At least until he heard the creak of the door and felt the rush of urgency as Klaus began to build up a fire.
It wasn't too long before light sliced at Jesper's eyes, making him blink and squint. He was in Klaus’s cabin, thankfully not in his terribly cold post office. Large, rough hands moved him away from the warm chest and he whined, trying to cling to his saviour.
“I know, I know…” Klaus grumbled, gently placing Jesper on the chair by the fire. “Let me just get you a drink, then we’ll get you sorted.”
Jesper opened his mouth, trying his best to form words, but for once, he was speechless. It wasn’t that he didn’t have anything to say, far from it; he could not make his mouth into the shapes needed to actually speak.
A mug of cocoa was pushed into his hands, cool enough to drink, and Klaus moved it to his lips, helping him drink the sweet liquid, the warmth moving through his body like a blissful wave.
The fire helped warm him, and he tried to move closer, those rough hands holding him tight and stopping him from sitting on the rug. Klaus moved him with ease, scooping him up and sitting him on his lap. Jesper blinked with surprise at the bare torso at his back, finally able to form words, them coming out slow and measured.
“What are you doing?” He asked quietly. “Shouldn’t I be in a hot bath?”
Klaus shook his head, pulling Jesper close to himself. His breath caught in his throat as tree-trunk arms wrapped around his skinny body, hot skin making him shiver. “Don’t want you warming up too fast, you’ll get sick. Skin to skin contact is best, get your core temperature up.” He rumbled, the chest behind Jesper shaking with the depth of his words.
Jesper took ahold of Klaus’s hand, turning it over in his own two. The skin was calloused, telling of decades of hard work, unlike the soft hands of a lavish life that pressed into the wide palms. Klaus didn’t speak, simply watching as the near-naked man held his fingers tight.
“...How will I get home? My cart is broken.” Jesper muttered, the large fingers he was playing with curling around his hand, holding it with a gentleness that he hadn’t experienced before.
Klaus shifted, the beard behind Jesper tickling the back of his neck. “You’ll have to stay the night. I’ll make you up a bed on the sofa.”
He didn’t know why, but the thought of spending the night on Klaus’s sofa was heart-wrenching, and he squeezed what he could of the huge hand. “But, ah…” He scrambled for words, trying his hardest to come up with an excuse to get closer to the large man. “...what if I die? I don’t want to take the risk.”
Klaus raised a bushy brow. “You won’t die.”
“But what if I do? I need you to keep an eye on me.” Jesper insisted.
There was a moment where Klaus stared at him, lips in a thin line, scowling slightly. "...Fine. My bed is big enough for two, I suppose."
They didn't speak again, Jesper not letting go as he was carried upstairs like a baby, his body still quivering.
The bedroom was cosy, not all too large, but comfortable enough for Klaus. An animal pelt laid over the stupidly huge bed, merely decoration over the patchwork quilt, plush and inviting. The bed was crisply made, and Jesper was thankful that Klaus couldn't see his messy bed with the hole-filled sheets. He thought Klaus could probably crush his tiny bed with a well-placed sit.
Klaus peeled the covers away from the mattress with one hand, and set Jesper down with the other. The pillow was so wide and soft, and smelled of the woodsman more than his clothes did. It surrounded him as he sat back, smelling the pine, the woodsmoke, the clean oil of gear lubricant. It was unique to Klaus, and it made Jesper's stomach knot tightly in a way he couldn't explain.
The blankets were warm over his cold, naked legs, and he watched with heavy-lidded eyes as Klaus peeled off his clothes, exposing his bare torso in full. Broad shoulders, firm chest, a belly that told of hearty meals, all graced with the grey fluff of age. Jesper gripped the blanket at his chest, pulling it up to his face to hide the scarlet tinge. Thankfully, he didn't have to worry about Klaus seeing his blush, as the lamp was soon extinguished, encompassing them in darkness.
Jesper was about to speak when the mattress dipped with the immense weight of the other man, causing Jesper to yelp and flail his arms as he rolled toward him. He couldn't help the gasp in his throat as he slotted neatly against Klaus, perfectly fitted, like the two final pieces of a jigsaw. The pair looked at each other in the darkness, as if waiting for the other to move, but too afraid to make a movement themselves. It was so warm, Jesper unintentionally tangled with this beast of a man, who he had begged not to kill him not one week ago.
Eventually, a weighty arm secured him against the broad chest, and he squeaked quietly, shifting just a little as he tried to get comfortable.
"You'd better be a still sleeper." Klaus rumbled. "Can't stand wrigglers."
It was so warm against his stomach, enclosed, safe. Jesper just wanted to lose himself, press so close that he became one with the large man, merge into one entity. Before he could stop, a hand made its way into that thick beard, lithe fingers coiling the white hair around his knuckles. Klaus watched, expression unmoving, pursing his lips a little.
"S-Sorry…" Jesper whispered, pulling his hand back. Klaus grunted, taking ahold of his wrist with two fingers and pulling his arm roughly, placing his hand back where it had been. The postman's breath caught in his throat, his hand moving of its own accord, palm flush against the furry cheek.
They stared. Klaus blinked. Jesper blushed. The beat of their hearts seemed to synchronise, eyes taking each other in greedily, but both afraid of moving.
He's just an old woodsman, he wouldn't want a dumb rich kid all over him, he probably doesn't even like me.
I'm an old man, and he could have anyone he liked, any young lady from the village, I'd just be taking advantage of him.
Klaus moved first, his head just dipping slightly, tilting in that delectable nose-avoiding way. Jesper's heart leapt into his throat and he shifted, moving ever closer to Klaus, his lips flushed in anticipation.
As Klaus captured his lips against his own, Jesper couldn't help the mewl that escaped him; he had needed this for so long. It wasn't just the fact that kissing was a very nice activity, it was that someone actually wanted to kiss him. Someone actually cared.
His lips were a little chapped, sore from the harsh Smeerensburg winds, but that didn't matter. Jesper could get lost in the feeling of being so close to someone, sharing breath, both alive and oh so infatuated.
Whisps of silver hair fell around Jesper like a curtain, tickling his cheeks as he was pushed deeper into the pillow by Klaus's insistence, a large hand taking his own, almost like a lifeline. The imposing man needed to know Jesper wanted this, and he couldn't help but purr as thin fingers combed through his hair, twirling it absently.
Pulling apart with a perfect wet pop, their staring resumed, yet their faces were considerably more flushed than before. There was something behind Klaus's eyes. Doubt. Regret. As though he thought he made a wrong move, that Jesper would flee his house and never return. A thin hand kept a tight hold on the silky hair, a plead for Klaus to stay, to never leave him. Don't abandon me, not like everyone else has. Please.
And then Jesper was flinging his arms around his neck, skinny body scrabbling for purchase on probably the only gesture of affection he'd ever received. Their lips were clumsy together, but it didn't matter, it was soft and tender and forgiving. Their noses sandwiched together, bending and squashing, prompting a chuckle from Klaus, and if that wasn't the finest sound in the world.
A hand against his chest warmed his torso, almost the breadth of his shoulders. Christ. He took it as a request to cease, moving away from Klaus with wide, frightened eyes.
"You're too skinny."
Jesper scoffed, his skinny legs tangling with the large, thick thighs beside him. "That's all you can say?"
Klaus nodded, a curious thumb dipping into the grooves between his ribs. "Too thin."
Jesper was tentative as he snaked his hands down toward Klaus's chest, spreading them across its breadth. "...Hang on a second… You do not look like the kind of man to have a nipple piercing." Jesper remarked as he stared at the glinting ring.
Klaus snorted, rolling his eyes. "There's a lot you don't know about me, postman." He growled, making Jesper flush beautifully.
"I wouldn't mind knowing a little more…"
There was that noise. That grunting laugh that slipped past that wall that he'd built around himself. It was a perfect noise, and Jesper let it ring in his mind as his eyelids slipped shut, lulled by the soft beat of Klaus's heart.