Title: Cold Fire Hearts

Pairing: Josef/Mick

Rating: NC17

Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Mick and Josef in the aftermath of Beth's demise, with Mick needing distraction, and comfort. Written for the Moonlightaholics Champagne Challenge No# 124.


Mick shivers under the blanket layer of ice. Smoke from a nearby Chimney is visible through the bathroom window, curling white tendrils that speak of comfort, and gentle, warm sleep. Mick fidgets in the bath; his own sleeping arrangements leave a lot to be desired. Josef is upstairs; asleep in his own custom made, double freezer. He had invited Mick over, asked Mick to stay the night - figured Mick could do with the company given the circumstances.

Mick fidgets some more, tries to find a comfortable position. He's starting to regret not taking Josef up on his earlier offer – there was room enough for both of them in that icy receptacle. Mick curses when his spine bangs against the bath's enamel side. The ice melts around him, turning into a watery slush. It's cold, and wet, and unpleasant.

Eventually Mick admits defeat, and goes upstairs. Josef hears Mick approach, opens the lid of the Freezer in readiness.

"So, you finally came to your senses then?" Josef grins, and gestures his head towards the free space next to his, "Jump in, there's plenty of room. I had it designed that way; I like to stretch out."

Josef raises his brow; behind his ready-made smile, Mick detects a note of salaciousness.

Not here, not now, Mick thinks. It's too complicated. Mick doesn't want complication. He wants everything easy breezy, a casual hand of friendship reaching out to him, and then stopping right there. He wants…

…Josef on top, teasing the darkness out of him with those expert fingers, fucking him until he can't think straight – making him come so hard he can't think at all.

Mick shakes off those thoughts, mentally pushes them to one side, and then climbs into the freezer. He takes a moment to settle into place. Josef maintains a friendly distance; he knows better than to push.

"Try not to think about it; trust me, it doesn't help."

Josef offers his unsolicited advice then; noting the pained expression on Mick's face, the way his forehead lines with grief.

Easier said than done – Mick swallows a lump of emotion, and tries to forget. He doesn't want to think about it, about her. It's still too raw; the feelings are still too real.

Beth is…Mick hesitates on the word 'dead'; he doesn't want to give voice to that kind of permanency. Beth is gone, and now Josef - Mick sinks further into melancholy, wonders if Josef will be next.

But who's gonna warm this cold fire heart of mine when he's gone…

No more, Mick silently pleads in the dark; please, no more. Mick remembers snatches of a poem, or was it a story, or a song? He feels Josef's hand settle on his abdomen, resting there casually awhile – waiting for permission to go further.

Mick furrows his brow in contemplation, and then nods his acquiesce; his hand placed over Josef's, guiding a downwards trajectory. "Yeah, okay."

Not here, not now – Only…The distraction is better; there's comfort to be had in distraction; a space where thoughts beyond a simple 'fuck me', and 'oh god yes', cease to form.

He's already hard when Josef takes hold of his cock; Josef's fingers wrapped tight around the base, his hand working in a corkscrew motion, first upwards, and then down again- gradually building speed – his thumb occasionally stroking across the head, eliciting Mick's response.

"Oh fuck yeah," Mick closes his eyes, and arches into the sensation. His mouth hangs open; a low whimper escapes his parted lips. Josef's hand is working harder now. Mick bucks his hips, and trembles with anticipation, feels his orgasm rising from the base of his spine; the only thing that matters. That's good, that's what he needs. Beyond is no-man's land, a place where unwanted thoughts take shape.

Josef stops just as Mick reaches the precipice, "Not yet." Josef waits for Mick's urgency to subside, and then shifts closer - his lips pressing against Mick's ear, whispering base emotions. "God I want to fuck you so badly right now."

"Yeah, alright." Mick nods a vigorous agreement, his arms drawn around Josef's neck, pulling Josef towards him - ready to claim Josef's mouth for his own.

Josef's hand strokes along Mick's inner thigh then – his fingers teasing, caressing. Mick draws his knees up to his chest. Another voice whispers internally – 'you always knew you would change your mind'. Of course he'd known; the relative comfort of Josef's freezer was just a welcome bonus; Mick didn't need his inner monologue to tell him that. This was his time, his hour of need. He needed comfort, and warmth, the weight of Josef's body pressed atop his own. He needed…

…Too much.

Josef breaks their kiss, and brings his index, and middle finger up to Mick's mouth - letting Mick suck on those first two digits, coating them with saliva. Mick groans, and whispers, "Please," when Josef takes those same fingers, and presses them against Mick's arse hole, carefully working his way inside.

"How are you doing?" Josef's lips brush against Mick's throat. Mick bites back another groan, and then gasps as Josef's fingers find their mark.

"Good, I'm good. Keep going." Mick pants his response in a staccato rhythm. And then Josef is urging him to get on top, wanting Mick to ride him – take the both of them into oblivion, and beyond.

Another nod of agreement, more words whispered, 'yeah', and 'alright'. Mick shifts into position, hovers over Josef's erection as he waits for Josef to spit into his hand, and coat his own length with a hurried application of makeshift lubricant.

And then Mick is lowering himself onto Josef's cock, listening to Josef gasp and moan as he breaches the initial resistance.

"Oh Jesus, yes." Josef whimpers at the sensation of heat, and tightness that envelops his length. His hands grip either side of Mick's waist, directing Mick's movements. Fast now, and then faster - words of encouragement spoken in Mick's ear – "harder," and "don't stop."

Josef moves into an upright position then. Mick wraps his legs behind, digs his heels into the floor of the freezer for leverage. Josef pants against Mick's throat, his hands placed underneath Mick's buttocks, guiding Mick's rise and fall.

"Oh fuck, yeah," Mick leans back; lets Josef take some of his weight - Josef's arms wrapped around Mick's neck now. Mick grinds harder, his head hung back, mouth open exposing his fangs. And then Mick's throwing a rapid-fire hand onto his erection, and cursing loudly as he strokes his length in earnest, and waits for his impending orgasm to hit.

"Oh Jesus, fuck, yeah."

Close, oh god he was so close. Just a little bit more…

"Come." Josef growls a singular, heated instruction. And that's all Mick needs to hear; he flies off the edge then, coming hard in a mess of blood, and semen – his fangs sunk deep into the side of Josef's neck.

Seconds later Josef follows suit, growling out the rhythm of his own climax as he pumps his load into Mick's arse, and sinks his own fangs into the top of Mick's shoulder.

Later the semen will freeze to an icy white. For now they're content just to cling to one another - holding on in the aftermath - until the last pulsations fade away.

"Thanks," Mick mutters a sheepish note of gratitude as Josef withdraws. He doesn't know what else to say; words don't seem that necessary.

Josef lies back down, turned on his side – waits for Mick to mirror his position, his hand reaching out to caress Mick's face.

"You okay?"

"I will be." Mick smiles, and takes Josef hand in his, places a kiss in the middle of Josef's palm.

But who's gonna warm this cold fire heart of mine when he's gone…

"I'm sorry?" Josef looks momentarily confused. Mick had spoken out loud, those words slipping past without him thinking. "You don't get rid of me that easily." And then Josef was drawing Mick to him – hands clutching, bodies pressed up against one another as they head once more into the abyss.

Two cold fire hearts - destined for eternity.