Work Text:
Harrison has hated the snow for as long as he can remember.
It began back in Raccoon City, when he'd still been a child. Snow was common in Pennsylvania, particularly in the mountainous region that Raccoon City used to occupy, and it had been plentiful. He'd hated the icy roads, the way it always impeded on his plans, and the cold in particular. Oh, he'd hated it all, and he hadn't grown out of it as he got older. His hatred of snow had been innocent when he'd been nine years old and complaining that his mom wouldn't let him go outside and play because he'd get sick, but now at twenty-nine years old, it was anything but. His hatred had grown and festered with time, because now the snow meant that his prosthetic got so cold that the metal felt like it was going to stick to his skin at any given moment, or his car wouldn't start and now he was going to be late to work and Chris was going to chew his ass out at 7am on a Monday morning.
"Jesus fuck it's cold," Jake hissed as he trudged along beside him, a woolly mitten-clad hand reaching up to brush snow off his eyelashes. Harrison distantly recognised them as a gift he remembered Sherry buying several pairs of a few weeks ago; ridiculous red, white, and green striped things that both looked and felt ghastly, but that Piers and Jake had both been too smitten to reject when the blonde had thrust them each a pair with those unfairly convincing puppy eyes of hers. For a moment, Harrison had to resist the urge to mock him for wearing them now.
He likely would have, if he wasn't also wearing his own pair. As it were, he chose to remain silent, as he often did. Conversation felt pointless and would only distract him from his current primary goal; finding a way through this godsdamned snowstorm into some form of shelter, at least until the blizzard had passed. His head turned pointedly away from Jake, who harrumphed at him as if genuinely offended with being ignored, to scour their surroundings for what felt like the fifteen thousandth time in the last five minutes. His torch was no help, either, as the snowfall was so thick that most everything had turned completely white around them. More than once he and Jake had almost walked smack into a tree or a rock.
Silence continued, broken only by the howling of the wind as it whipped through the mountain pass, and the crunch of frozen snow as it flattened underfoot. Jake was doing his best not to look like he was edging closer and closer, but Harrison, much to his chagrin, had seemingly never been more aware of his presence than he was right now. The younger man's footsteps were loud, and he grunted with every few steps. Not for the first time he found himself wondering how exactly Jake had managed to make it as a mercenary, considering he had never been particularly apt at stealth.
Crack!
The yelp that escaped Jake was so abrupt that Harrison span immediately, able to feel himself the way the small, thin hairs along the back of his neck stood on end as he pointed his Lightning Hawk at what he had thought was going to be an infected, or even maybe a bear. What he saw instead was his girlfriend's boyfriend face down in the snow, apparently having managed to trip over something in the few seconds that Harrison hadn't been keeping an eye on him. He blinked, the muscle in his jaw feathering, and slotted the magnum back into its holster with a click.
Jake wriggled like a scruffed pup as Harrison's prosthetic fingers wrapped around his collar, pulling him back up onto his feet in one smooth motion. Harrison's brows had furrowed, dark eyes gliding up and down the ginger's taller frame, instinctively checking for injury as Jake hastily brushed snow off his clothes in a move that was entirely futile and reeked of bruised ego. He was almost amused at how thoroughly unamused Jake looked, actually.
Finally, satisfied that Jake was uninjured, Harrison's gaze lowered to the ground, searching for what he'd tripped over. He saw nothing, obviously, and began kicking the snow out of the way with the toe of his combat boot. Like he'd assumed, his foot collided with something solid, a surprisingly dull thud resounding. His head tilted. Jake knelt, brushing th rest of the snow away, and pulled a piece of frost-covered wood out of the ground with a grunt. He tossed it from hand to hand, as if testing its weight.
"It's a fence post," Harrison pointed out the obvious. "Thanks, Sherlock. I hadn't noticed," Jake deadpanned, icy blue eyes narrowed at him as if to say 'are you stupid?'. Harrison bristled, turning his back pointedly, and scoffed. Jake only snorted at him in response.
Harrison might have thanked Jake for tripping over that fence post, if he'd been a less stubborn person. Alas, he was incredibly stubborn, and he kept his mouth firmly shut even as Jake broke the lock on the small hunting cabin they'd found and pushed the creaky wooden door open, stomping snow off his boots as he entered. Harrison entered behind him, closing the door with a solid slam as Jake glanced around, mouth twisted into an expression that could only be described as 'guess it'll have to do'.
Harrison didn't speak, and neither did Jake. Instead, the younger of the two made a beeline for a dusty stone hearth on the other side of the room as Harrison hauled a table in front of the door to act as a makeshift barricade, should anything ugly and unwanted attempt to force its way inside during the night. Jake had pulled a lighter out of his pocket and was already flicking it open before Harrison even had time to question why he had a lighter on him in the first place, considering Jake didn't smoke.
Jake had a fire going quickly as Harrison scoped out the small cabin, dark gaze sweeping over each and every shadowy corner before eventually relaxing as he came to the frankly quite obvious conclusion that the place was empty aside from the two of them. A small kitchenette, a fireplace, and a bed tucked into the corner of the room was all that the place had for furnishings, and Harrison thought grimly that yes, it would have to do. Sighing, Harrison took a step towards the fireplace, shaking snow out of his hair as he did, when- "Strip."
It felt like he'd been struck by lightning. Harrison froze, eye twitching. Slowly, ever so slowly, he tilted his head back up, shooting Jake a look of sheer incredulity. Had he heard that correctly? "What did you just say to me?" He asked, because he was sure he hadn't heard that right.
Jake only blinked back at him, already mid-way through pulling his jacket off and laying it out in front of the hearth to dry. "Do you wanna get hypothermia?"
The way he said it was like a challenge. It had Harrison bristling, holding back the urge to snap at him purely for his attitude alone. Jake didn't seem perturbed by the glower of death and oncoming doom that was being thrown his way, more than used to it by now, after just over a year of living in the same apartment. "I'm not flirting with you," he groused, brows raising. The statement was immediately combatted by the way he pulled his sodden shirt off over his head, lean muscles rippling with the movement in a way that drew Harrison's eye inexplicably. "We're both soaked and freezing. If you don't want to get hypothermia and die, get undressed and cuddle me like a man."
Harrison's nostrils flared. The mechanics of his bionics whirred as he mentally contemplated wrapping titanium fingers around Jake's throat and throttling him where they stood. He reached for the straps of his gear and began methodically disrobing instead, shoulders tense and glare fixed firmly on the ground, as if it had been the creaky wooden flooring that had personally offended him.
Jake had already undressed and slipped under the covers of the bed by the time Harrison had stripped all the way down to his boxers and looked back up at him, and was patiently waiting, one corner of the duvet lifted, for Harrison to join him. A stifled sigh escaped as he laid out his own clothes next to Jake's and then climbed under the covers as well, and he didn't even pretend to hide the vindicated smirk that curled at the corners of his lips when Jake yelped as the frigid metal of his prosthetic pressed against his bare skin. Serves him right for being a smart ass.
"Asshole," Jake muttered quietly, tucking the corner of the duvet around Harrison's shoulders so that it was snug enough for heat to build quickly beneath the covers. Harrison's entire body tensed like he'd touched a live wire when the younger man's arms then wrapped around him, because in all the time that Jake had been dating his partners, they'd never had to so much as sit beside each other on the couch before. Not that they'd avoided each other, or even that Harrison didn't want to for that matter; the opportunity for closeness had just... never presented itself before.
His breath hitched when Jake pulled him closer, his arm squished awkwardly between his side and Jake's chest. The bed was small, and with two men both over six feet tall, it was cramped. Harrison had to squirm onto his side, facing Jake, because spooning sounded oddly intimate; only to realise that laying on their sides and facing each other, practically nose to nose, was probably more so. Harrison's heart felt like it had jumped into his throat, which in itself felt like it had tightened to a point of near asphyxiation, as Jake didn't even pretend like those pretty, pale blues weren't lingering on his lips for a moment too long to be accidental.
Harrison swallowed. Jake's brows lifted, but he mercifully chose not to speak. With no choice but to speak or allow the awkward silence to fester, Harrison wracked his brain for something to say to break the ice. Pun unintended.
"I'm sure Piers has mentioned this was a fantasy of his at some point," he uttered quietly, his voice low and hoarse. His dark gaze lowered slightly, but that only had him staring directly at Jake's collarbone instead, and that was somehow even more dangerous than staring into his eyes had been.
Jake scoffed at him, a sound that was half amusement and half derision, and Harrison could have sworn that he heard the way the ginger rolles his eyes at him. He shuffled in closer, until Harrison could feel the heat radiating off the other man, and leaned into that warmth despite every nerve ending in his body telling him to leap out of the bed that very moment and run as far away as fast as he physically could. "Yeah, well," Jake grumbled, adjusting the blankets around them both once more, "Piers has a lot of fantasies. I'm not about to make out with you just because he'd get off on it."
Harrison swallowed again. That particular mental image perhaps shouldn't have been as appealing to him as it was, but it had his heart thumping almost painfully against his ribcage, a rare pink flush rising to pale cheeks. Jake noticed that, of course; the bastard was more observant than anyone ever gave him credit for, but in fairness, he'd have had to have been an idiot not to feel the way Harrison's heart pounded from where they were pressed up against each other on the small bed, bare chest to bare chest.
"...Unless you're into that," Jake mused, brows lifting. His tone was dry, with the barest hint of a tease. He was testing the waters, Harrison realised with a start. Seeing if Harrison would draw a line, and if he did, where he would draw it at all.
A beat. Harrison didn't lift his head, but he did tilt it, silently considering. He couldn't say he hadn't considered it. Jake was dating his partners, had moved in with the three of them only a few months ago, and it was only natural that Harrison began to notice things about the other man. Like the way his icy blue eyes brightened in a morning when handed a fresh coffee, or the way he spoke with a different tone of voice with each of them. Jake was softer with Sherry than he was with Piers and himself, and he and Piers showed their affection through snarky comments and playfully ribbing comments. With him, though, Jake was different than either of them. He was calmer, more mellow. Like Harrison's presence eased something in him, made him feel safe enough to relax around. In turn, Harrison found that he was less tense and aggressive when Jake was around. The younger man had a way of placating him with mere presence alone that neither Piers or Sherry had ever been able to master.
Plus, he was hot. He'd have to be blind not to see it.
He took a deep breath.
"Only one way to find out," he murmured quietly, lifting his gaze just enough to meet Jake's. He saw the way the other man's icy blue eyes widened in response, as if he hadn't expected that response, and almost regretted saying it. Almost did something stupid like say he was just kidding.
He didn't get a chance. Jake exhaled sharply through his nose, half amusement and half disbelief as he turned his head, studying Harrison's face as if searching for some kind of hint as to what the older man was thinking. What he saw instead was the way Harrison's dark eyes flicked away with uncharacteristic nerves, the way his lips had parted as if in anticipation. He leaned in then, slowly, giving Harrison every chance to pull away.
But Harrison didn't pull away. Their lips met, tentative at first. A brief, chaste thing that was hardly a kiss at all, and more of a test, trying to gauge how they felt more than getting wrapped up in passion.
It was definitely new. Jake didn't kiss like Sherry or even like Piers; Sherry's kisses were soft and sweet, and Piers' kisses were firm and demanding, almost needy. It was even a little strange, at first, though in a way that Harrison realised rather quickly that he liked. Jake took more control than them, the press of his lips somewhere between gentle and rough. Harrison allowed himself to relax infinitesimally, leaning further into Jake's chest as their lips moved together slowly. His flesh hand settled on the curve of Jake's waist, neither pushing nor pulling, and instead just resting there.
A soft, pleased hum left him as he felt Jake's hand glide up his back to rest on the nape of his neck, long, dexterous fingers delving into damp, brunette strands. He could feel the heat building under the duvet, whether from their rising body heat or the fire flickering in the hearth nearby. Before he even realised what he was doing he had hooked his knee over Jake's hip to pull him in that little bit closer, the other man's waist slotting easily between his thighs, which fell open for him with far too much ease to be anything less than mortifying.
Jake chuckled at him, and the sound had heat settling in the pit of his stomach. His eyes fluttered open, though he didn't remember closing them to begin with, as Jake rolled them until Harrison was on his back beneath him. They parted just enough to catch their breath, panting softly into each other's mouths, and Harrison tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach as Jake nudged his nose against his own in a gesture so laced with affection it almost made him feel nauseous.
"Do you want-" Jake's voice halted as if his throat had closed up mid sentence, and Harrison watched the movement of his Adam's apple as it bobbed when he swallowed audibly. "I mean... We can stop. If you want."
Cute, if not for the fact that now that Harrison had been given a taste, he wasn't sure he was ever going to be satisfied. "Jake," he huffed softly, pulling him closer with the leg still hooked over his hip. "I don't want to stop."
The sigh of relief Jake let out was cut off by the way he abruptly lowered himself back down, lips meeting once more in a kiss much hungrier than the first one had been.