Stone Circle and you can get what you want, but it's never enough

He's still awake as the sun starts to peek over the snowy horizon — he'd given up on sleeping awhile ago. He's patrolling as the sky slowly brightens in muted colors, clouds shifting as if to make way for the sun's golden light. It's actually beautiful; he hates winter, he hates the cold and the grey and the dormancy of the land, but this is... a silver lining of sorts, maybe. He stops to watch the sky, going still except the faint shivers running down his spine. Yeah, it's nice. It'd be nicer if he wasn't so tired, though.

He wasn't blind to the distance that had been between them. Yet he did not force his presence on the ashy healer. If anything, Outlander had begun to learn that the two of them were seemingly worked by the tides. Drifting in and out of each other's personal space. Perhaps he wished it hadn't been like that but it wasn't his place to call the shots. He just wanted to be there when he was needed and ready when he wasn't needed.

So it's funny that he found the male he was thinking of. Or maybe it was his writer he knew nothing of. But he does not push himself upon Alarian and instead opts to watch him from a distance while he does...whatever it was he was doing.

He feels eyes on him after a time. He turns his head slowly to find the source, tensing slightly as he realizes it's Outlander. He sucks in a breath, reluctantly meeting his eyes, and for a moment he's perfectly still. Who's following who now? he thinks sarcastically, but his desire for company wins out. He takes a few tentative steps toward the man and chuffs softly, uncertain whether he's seeking company or if he just wants to... watch. Which would be a little weird, but whatever.

He returned the chuff that Alarian gave and a soft hey followed. Outlander didn't move to approach any closer but his tail swished behind him in a rather inviting manner. How are you feeling? He asked with a quirked brow. They were both pretty banged up but Outlander knew that his companion had much worse going on right now. The marks that littered down his spine were the key of evidence to that. At least Outlander had not received such outward markings which meant he was free to be the caretaker now. Well, as much as he could be.

He pauses a few beats, hesitating over the answer to Outlander's question. Cold, He decides to say after a few moments, taking a couple steps closer. Um, look — about the other night. I — The words catch in his throat and die there, and he looks away, ears flattening. He tries again to speak, but he can't, and the silence that follows feels deafening.

Outlander was ready to offer himself as a heater but then Alarian started up with what sounded like it was going to be some long winded thing. Yet it was cut drastically short. Hey, it's all good. He said with a small shrug of his shoulders. The stars had been nice even if the earth was cold and he had been happy to cradle Alarian through the night after the crying. Outlander wasn't being nice just for the hell of it. The ashy male deserved kindness as far as the large Lambda was concerned.

You want to come here for warmth or would you prefer showing me how to walk again? He asked with a lazy grin plastered on his face.

Something about Outlander's response leaves him feeling... odd. Unsatisfied, in a way — but he doesn't have much time to ponder it, because the male's next words throw his thoughts into chaos. His ears and cheeks flush immediately, gaze flicking to Outlander and then away again. Um, He considers just fleeing altogether, but — he is cold. At least, that's what he tells himself as his paws slowly carry him closer and he halts hesitantly near the other, still not entirely certain of the invitation. Perhaps if he was thinking straight — but he's not. He feels foggy and far-away, and very cold.

He was a big dumb male, even this far along in his life and so he remained oblivious to Alarian’s feelings on the matter. In fact Outlander thought he had handled things great purely because things didn’t become an argument between them.

Then he realized that apparently it was going to need some moving on his end to get Alarian to actually utilize his warmth. So Outlander moved to press his side against the smaller male’s body. Maybe we should get you some pelts for a den. It’s only going to get colder you know. And Outlander couldn’t guarantee he’d be around every time Alarian got cold.

A shiver runs down his spine as Outlander presses against him, and he leans heavily into the touch. You're probably right, He murmurs, tucking his face against the other's fur, but he can't help sounding distracted; he is distracted. He can't really help it — he hasn't actually been with anyone since that awkward encounter with Delight, and... well, Outlander is hot. And mildly infuriating. And touching him. He shifts a little, skin prickling, and tries to ignore it. It doesn't really work, and he feels gross and sleazy.

He did what he had done the previous night they had spent together, and delicately groomed the fur on Alarian’s neck when he pressed into Outlander. It felt more like an instinct than anything he really put thought into. Someone got close and his first reaction was to groom and care for them. Which was almost funny sense Outlander was not the most gentle loving guy out there.

I might have one you can borrow until we get your own. He whispered softly before he went back to grooming. Although it was obvious with his words that he wasn’t entirely focused either.

Another, stronger shiver travels down his spine as Outlander begins grooming his neck fur. He barely even hears his words. A slight gasp slips from him, fur rising from his back just barely; it's a strange mix of fear and arousal, the former inexplicable to him and surely not worth exploring now. He leans even closer, preening instinctively at what parts of the man he can reach. Panic rises in his chest, but he doesn't pull away; he can't explain the feeling, so he only pushes it away, certain it will fade soon.

His skin felt on fire, especially the places where Alarian preened. It made him feel...uncomfortable in a strange sort of way. Even if his head injury seemed to have wiped some memories he was no stranger to his own natural feelings. Outlander isn't sure if he should try to get closer, to press himself upon the smaller male. It all felt a little sleezy honestly. Although he knew it was because of himself.

Then he got the uncomfortable memory of the discussion about the other guy.

For once, Outlander was the first to back down. He halted his grooming and turned to look elsewhere. I, uh. He shifted away ever so slightly with the hope that it would cool the sudden burning of his skin. What did he even say to excuse his sudden weirdness?

His thoughts still won't return to him, but the weird heat-and-fear feeling creeping over him intensifies. He almost thinks he can't stand it — but then Outlander pulls away, and the feeling is like ice-water pouring down his spine. He sees Delight, just for a moment — not as some spectre or hallucination in front of him, but framed in his mind like a portrait in a locket. His limbs tense and he takes several stiff steps back away from the other, not even registering that he's spoken.
I-I'm so sorry, He chokes, turning even as the words fall from his mouth. He doesn't wait for a response — he can't. His legs move unbidden, taking him — he doesn't know where. Somewhere far away from this latest fuck-up of his — somewhere he can be alone.

He stood up as Alarian had begun to leave, his shoulders hunched and tail drooped between his legs. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth and words seemed hard but he needed to say something, do something. He took a nervous step forward unsure what that would change. I'm sorry. I...I just don't want to force myself on you, Alarian. When he had finally found words they came out wobbled and soft as if a firmer tone might shatter everything. He had no idea if the words would stop him though or if they would even be heard.

It soon became obvious though that his words weren't enough. It stung but he knew it was his own fault.