Work Text:
Jack shuts the cabin door behind him, locking out the chill and the snow, twisting every bolt and turning every lock. Instead of an oppressive feeling of being trapped, he just feels content, warm and buzzing indoors.
“Looks like we’re snowed in for good now.” It’s coming down hard outside, almost too thick to see through, not helped by the fact that the sun’s setting. But with Robby in here, looking so kissable with his hair covered in snow, wrapped in a hoodie and two flannels and cheeks flushed from the cold, not that it ever takes much—it’s perfect.
He’s perfect, and Jack loves him, and the engagement ring on his finger is only a reminder of what he already knows deep in his soul.
“Oh, no,” Robby drawls, unloading the contents of their cooler into the fridge. “There’s only one bed, I guess we’ll have to share.” He flashes a smile up at Jack, and even after all this time, Jack feels warm at being the recipient of that attention. He’s all mine.
“Man, that’s gonna be awkward,” Jack says, unable to keep the smile out of his voice. “Might have to put a pillow or two between us. Hope it’s a king.”
“No, it’s a queen,” Robby says, meeting his eye with that doe eyed, puppy dog expression. “And it’s gonna take a while for the fireplace to heat up in there. We might have to cuddle up for body heat, you know.”
“Yeah. Sounds like sound medical advice,” Jack hums, shucking his coat to place on the coathanger by the door and going to Robby’s open arms just as he finishes unloading the cooler. Never a bad time to hug his fiance, in Jack’s experience.
They’ve gotten a cabin in this compound before, though never when the weather was quite so bad, and it’s sizable but not too big, not too cramped. It’s warm in vibe if not currently in temperature, and Jack’s mentally cataloging the fireplace in the living room and the bedroom, how long it’s going to take for both of them to heat up so that they won’t be completely frozen going to bed tonight.
Robby curls an arm around his shoulder, holding him close for the sake of it, not just with convenience or warmth. Jack buries his nose in his neck and breathes him in, cologne smelling like the pine trees outside. He just stays there for a minute because he can, because they got nothing but time for the weekend.
“I got something special for you for dinner,” Jack whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek and reluctantly leaving the warmth of his chest to cross the room, unpacking his own cooler.
Robby seats himself at the dining table, fetching a soda from the fridge, just watching Jack work. Already making this place their own even though they’re only here for the weekend. “Don’t tell me it’s one of your MREs. Not touching that shit with a ten foot pole, brother,” he says fondly.
“Don’t knock my MREs.” But Jack didn’t bring him an MRE, and he unwraps the package of premier steak he smuggled into the car, making Robby whistle lowly to himself.
“You make the steak, I build the fire?” Robby asks.
Jack levels a look at him. “Do you even know how to make a fire?”
“Of course,” Robby says with a laugh. “Would you rather I make the steak?”
Yes, Robby's the better cook by a mile, but he's always cooking the steak. This once, Jack wanted to surprise him, cook the perfect dinner because he can and he wants to and Robby deserves it—but he says instead, “I’ll have to see this to believe it.”
“Oh, I can make a fire,” Robby says, puffing his chest out a bit, and wonderful, now Jack’s got his caveman going. But he just watches from his place by the counter, seasoning the steak, as Robby hauls in firewood from outside perched on his beefy shoulders, still wrapped in a flannel and a hoodie with his cheeks flushed—yeah, Jack almost burns his hand on the cast iron pan when he’s not looking.
He watches as best he can over his shoulder as Robby’s stacking the wood in the fireplace, and Robby says, “I can feel you watching me and judging my technique,” without looking at him. “Just because you were in the army doesn’t mean you make a better fire than me.”
“Yes, it does.” And then it becomes too loud to talk with the sizzling of the steaks, and Jack really does not want to fuck them up in any way, so he avoids looking at his deliciously sexy fiance in his flannel with his broad shoulders and broader back making them a fire, and focuses instead on his dinner.
The scent of thick woodsmoke starts to fill the room, and a few minutes later, Robby walks past him, says, “Ooh, that smells good. Fire’s lit. There’s a fireplace beside the bed, too. I think there’s a fireplace in every damn room of this cabin.”
Jack snorts, calls him to dinner, setting it out on the homespun wooden table. The look on Robby’s face as he takes the first bite—Jack is only used to seeing that look when his own mouth is full of something else. Absolutely worth it. And Robby built the fire without burning the house down or letting it snuff itself out, so Jack begrudgingly admits defeat.
It’s getting harder to think with Robby looking at him like that, anyway, cheeks still red and face so openly fond. Jack has to pinch himself sometimes to remember he can have this, that Robby really does want his attention.
After dinner, they dim the lights in the living room and sit close to the fireplace, and Robby grows warm enough to shuck one of his flannels, making Jack wolf whistle at him and Robby roll his eyes, but he can’t hide the fond blush on his face.
Robby retreats to the couch sitting a few feet back from the fireplace, and Jack cuddles up with him for a minute, fighting the urge to drift off to sleep…but then he remembers who he’s with, what the man he’s with is wearing, and how little time they have here relatively speaking. And it takes nothing at all for a spark of an idea to grow.
Jack lowers himself to the rug by the fireplace with a groan, soft and fluffy white, and warms his hands over the fire. He can feel Robby watching him with affection and interest, and Jack is emboldened under that gaze. He smiles over his shoulder and turns to face him as he begins taking off his leg.
“Come on. Lie down with me.” Jack smiles up at him, undoing his buttons, working off his belt. Robby just watches him, mesmerized, until Jack’s stripped everything off and cast it aside.
There’s a bit of a shiver on his skin at first, but when he inches closer to the fire, it abates, just leaving him pleasantly warm. He lies down, good leg propped up, meeting Robby’s eyes with a smile.
Robby slowly lowers himself to his knees fully clothed, and Jack rolls his eyes. “Naked, dumbass. It’s that kind of party. We got the fire to warm us. We’ll be fine.”
Robby doesn’t protest, stripping out of his clothes impatiently, like he can’t wait to get back in Jack’s arms. He inches them a little closer to the fire, lowering himself over Jack to kiss him in something like a push up, and—
“Are you showing off?” Jack demands, grinning into Robby’s mouth.
“For you? Always,” Robby admits, nosing down his neck. “Love you. Need you.”
He’s so fucking open about it, so needy and desiring Jack so wholly, that Jack can’t do anything except wrap his arms around Robby tighter and pull him in, legs slotted together and warm skin against warm skin until they’ve found a perfect rhythm, rocking against each other.
“I love you,” Robby keeps whispering into his mouth as Jack worms a hand between them to stroke them both, shivering under the heat of the fire and the inferno of Robby’s words, two entirely different heats.
Jack was going for naughty, laying out by the fire with nothing but each other and skin, and here goes hopeless romantic Robby turning it into something soft and sweet, making Jack feel warm and safe and loved under his hands and his hot, claiming mouth.
Pleasure sparks up his spine, so gentle but so strong, and he whispers the same sweet nothings into Roby as they come together, arching into each other, warmed by the fire. Robby slumps down on top of him when the gentle pleasure has faded into ease, into bonelessness and satisfaction that makes Jack close his contented eyes. He’s warm.
“You got hot and bothered because of the fire I made, didn’t you?” Robby asks, breaking the silence. "You were swept off your feet by my technique."
Jack barks a laugh. “Something like that. Who knows what’ll happen when I see the one you made in the bedroom. Maybe I'll have to jump your bones again.” They're both too tired for that, lulled sleepy by the afterglow and the continued warmth of the fire.
Robby smiles down at him, the firelight reflecting in his dark eyes, so in love and he’s letting it show—and then he wraps his flannel around Jack’s shoulders like a gentleman and says, “Come on, sweetheart, let’s go to bed.”
For how rustic the rest of the cabin is, the bed is a mass of soft pillows and a thick, sturdy comforter that looks like heaven to Jack the moment he sees it. All crisp and white and clean, calling his name. He and Robby get settled under the covers. While Jack gives some praise to his fire, all he has the energy for is turning down the covers and arranging his and Robby's bodies to his liking.
Jack manhandles Robby onto his back, and even though he snores viciously in that position, Jack likes him like this now, a broad pillow of muscle and warmth to rest upon. Though he'll be cursing himself when he wakes up at two AM to elbow Robby in the side and get him to turn over, stop snoring, Jack wouldn't trade this for anything in the world right now. Robby looking at him like he hung the moon and stars, soft and sleepy and golden from the firelight.
Jack lays his head gently on Robby's hairy chest, delicious and warm, listening to his heart softly thud. The edges of Robby's necklace, warmed from his skin, dig into Jack's cheek, he lifts his head slightly to move it over.
"Tell me a story," he whispers into the chilly air outside the comforter, pulled up to their shoulders.
He closes his eyes, but he can still hear Robby's smile. "There was once a lumberjack in his cabin, hauling firewood to make the perfect fire," he says, "and all was well, but he was lonely. He wanted someone to share the fire's warmth with. It was snowing out."
Robby's deep, low, raspy voice rumbles through his chest into Jack's ear, making him almost purr with contentment. Robby's fingers keep tracing soft, lulling patterns over Jack's shoulder, and Jack snuggles closer into his side. "Did he find someone to share the fire with?" Jack asks.
"I'll tell you if you just listen," Robby says with no heat, only softness. "Late into the night, when the snowstorm was at its thickest, there was a knock at the door, and a lonely traveler was there, asking for shelter and warmth.”
”A sexy traveler?”
Robby laughs. “An extraordinarily sexy, silver fox of a traveler,” he murmurs, “who had the lumberjack wrapped around his finger from the very start.
”The lumberjack let him in and was just as relieved to find someone to share the fire with. The lumberjack got him warm and fed, and they spent the night together in a big, cozy bed, sharing a blanket...and each other."
"Sounds like they moved a little fast for having just met," Jack whispers, making Robby's chest shake with silent laughter.
"There was an instant connection," he says lamely, still smiling, still rubbing Jack's shoulder in lulling patterns. "And then they lived happily ever after, spending the rest of their days in that cabin, always warm from each other despite the snow. Now sleep, honey."
Jack answers the call of sleep with the faint crackle of the fire, Robby's rising and falling chest under his ear, and the utterly blissful warmth of his skin and the bed combined. Jack is wrapped in a flag of his love, and he has never felt more warm.
#
Jack wakes an hour before dawn from the shivering cold, finding the fire’s gone out in the bedroom—and yes, it was an even more impressive fire than the one in the living room, as Robby so smugly pointed out.
If Jack’s cold, things must really be dire, yet Robby’s still fast asleep against his back, hugging Jack to his chest as his own space heater--spooning is how they ended up after the aforementioned two AM snoring followed swiftly by an elbow to the side.
Predawn light is streaming through the bedroom window, though Jack doesn’t have to look outside to know the storm is letting up, wrapping their cabin in soft sunlight. That makes Jack feel nothing but warm, wanting to stay in Robby’s arms forever in this snuggly bed, protected and safe from the cold world outside.
Even after Jack rearranges the blankets tucked up his chest, he’s shivering. Although he absolutely dreads the thought of getting out of Robby’s arms, naked in the cold, to relight the fire with the floor freezing on his foot, he knows it’ll be worth it.
But the first attempt to pull out of Robby’s grasp, buried in the comforter and lulled by his soft breaths on the back of Jack’s neck, is unsuccessful. Robby lets out a low whine and pulls him back, arm locked around his waist, face buried in the back of his neck. Jack shuts his eyes and prays for strength. Come on, Abbot, you’ve done a lot harder things than this. Survived a lot worse than this.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispers, mostly to himself, doubting Robby can hear him, then he pulls Robby’s arm off him and makes the last push to slide out of bed and reach for his crutch.
“Where you going?” Robby mumbles, holding onto his arm. Jack shakes loose.
“Fucking freezing in here,” Jack shudders, picking up Robby’s hoodie off the floor and throwing it on just for now. He shudders and mutters curses to himself as he hobbles over to the fireplace, hearing Robby rustle around as he seems to realize Jack’s not close by anymore.
Jack’s shaking, fumbling, freezing fingers light a match, feed wood to the fireplace, get the fire lit and going again. He sighs and warms his hands by its glowing light for a minute, listening to it crackle and slowly build up, before turning back around.
Robby opens his arms, wrapped in a fluffy white comforter and the firelight bathing his face in all sorts of beautiful hues, looking so snuggly and fucking edible. Bedhead, eyes open to a squint, vulnerable and soft the way only Jack can be privy to. He says, “Get back here,” and Jack is helpless to resist that.
He ditches the hoodie and crawls back into bed in Robby’s arms, finding himself immediately swathed in warmth and softness and safety. Utter peace. The bed is warm from Robby’s body, warmer still under the comforter he pulls Jack into, warmer even more from the arms that wind around Jack’s chest. He’s shivering, but Robby takes care of that quickly.
Robby pulls the comforter up to their shoulders, trapping the heat, and it’s perfect. Jack buries his head under it, nuzzling closer to Robby. He tucks his cold nose into Robby’s collar, making him jolt but hold Jack closer nonetheless. Jack is definitely going to get hot from all of this quickly with the fire burning in here, but right now, it’s perfect.
“You wanna go back to sleep?” Jack whispers, tracing his fingers into Robby’s hair.
“Not really. We’re already up. I just wanna look at you.” Robby kisses him again, and Jack melts into it. “Wanna get up and watch the sunrise on the porch?” Robby whispers.
“Only if you let me borrow a hoodie.” And hold his hand.
“Oh, is someone regretting not packing enough flannels?” Robby asks with a little grin that lights Jack’s insides up, even if he’s being made fun of. Robby's finger traces down his jaw, and Jack leans into it.
“You like me in your clothes. Don’t act like it’s a hardship.”
Robby’s eyes soften. “I really, really do.”
Jack kisses him long and thorough and deep, and goes willingly when Robby rolls him onto his back and climbs half on top of him, every inch of skin pressed together, perfect, Robby’s tongue in his mouth and his hands all over Jack’s shoulders and Jack’s legs tangled with his under the sheet and comforter. They take their time making out, knowing they got nowhere to be and nothing but time in this moment right now.
That’s not something they can say often. Robby’s humming into his mouth with the most delicious little noises, idly turned on, but that’s not what Jack’s going for right now, he just wants more of this. Robby close and warm and soft. Jack’s hands on his shoulders, squeezing and kneading because he can, because who wouldn’t want to cop a feel of those shoulders if they had the chance? Lumberjack indeed.
As they get their fill of the kiss, the passion cools, and Robby presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He's looking at Jack satisfied and fond. He’s slightly flushed from the cold and the heat in equal mix, but Jack loves that. He strokes his fingers through Robby’s hair, whispers, “I built the fire. You get up and make coffee. Don’t wanna miss the sunrise.”
“You got it,” Robby whispers, planting one final kiss on his lips before rising. Robby’s shivering and shuddering into his clothes, speedwalking to the fireplace to dress there. “Fuck, why did we think it was a good idea to go to bed naked?”
“Because you were kind enough to think of the view it would provide me now,” Jack says, ogling him shamelessly. The red blush that spreads across Robby’s face is a sight Jack will truly, truly never tire of, even as he realizes how he’s kinda fucked himself by sending Robby off to make coffee and leave Jack in bed, cold and alone.
It’s alright, though. Robby will be back soon, or more likely, Jack will get up and wrap the comforter around himself as armor and go join him. But right now, Jack buries his head under the covers and moves onto Robby’s pillow, still warm and smelling like him. A sight that might even have Robby melting in the doorway when he brings a tray.
Overall, being snowed in ain’t so bad.