#marsmith

The rains come midway through their construction of the house and there's a tear in John's tent that allowed a passing breeze during the summer, but drenches him in the downpour. Charles lets him share space and shelter in his tent. Though he tries to keep near to canvas walls, to be something small and slender to avoid costing the other man sleep, John forgets that sleep is, at best, fleeting and fighting both for him. He never escapes the pressure, the expectations that he fears he'll never meet and it leaves him twisted and turning until his bedroll wraps tight around him. It's normal, to him, but it's got to be chaos for Charles.

 Four hours in and John figures that his sleeping in the leaky tent is better than ruining Charles' chance at a solid night's rest, so he starts to drag himself free of the mangled mess of his bedroll, resigns himself to a damp remainder of the night and--

 There's no warning when the arm comes up and smacks across his chest, dragging him back to the ground, good as pinning him there and Charles? He doesn't even open his eyes, just keeps the weight of his arm there and mutters: "Go back to sleep."

 John lays there a long time, shocked at this sudden contact; they've been closely working together, but Charles never seems the sort to want touch. However, an hour later and the man hasn't stirred, and John's slowly losing the fight against staying away, dead certain that he'll just roll about and make the night worse, but he's not able to stop the lure of slumber much longer, eyes drifting shut and breath steadying under the warm weight on his chest.

Heat rises in Charles at the words and he's about to decline, but John already sits down behind him, his hands on Charles' shoulders.

He slowly moves them up towards Charles' neck, bringing goosebumps to his skin. Charles freezes, and John grunts behind him. "Relax, I'm trying to help here."

Charles takes a deep breath and exhales longer than needed to calm himself. "I'm just tired."

"Yeah, sorry I had you do so much work around here," John says, his fingers digging into the skin on Charles' neck.

"I didn't mind," Charles says. "I like being here and helping out."

"That's good because I'd be lost without you."

At the words, John runs his hands back to Charles' shoulders with a lot less pressure. It's a sweet caress and John is so close that Charles can feel his warm breath on his skin.

A voice deep inside tells Charles to walk away, but the truth is that he doesn't want to. The fire warmths his body, the sky shines with a myriad of stars, and a light breeze whispers in the dark. It's been a while since Charles felt so content.

"Good?" John asks, his raspy voice right next to Charles' ear. "You want me to keep going?"

"Yes," Charles says, and he can't help that the word comes out with a sigh.

He leans more and more into John's touch. Then there's something hot on his neck, John's lips touching his bare skin for a moment before he leans back.

John's hands come to a rest as if he's unsure what to do next. It's on Charles to decide where this goes. With his heart beating faster, he takes a deep breath before he speaks. "More."

Without hesitation, John leans in again, peppering Charles' neck with soft kisses and careful bites.