It was cold, but that was to be expected. Mecklinger and Bittenfeld were staying in a mountain cabin at the moment. Well, you could say that but the reality was, until the storm died down, they were stuck there, hopelessly snowed in. Mecklinger poked at the fire Bittenfeld had created earlier with a a sharp stick causing it to crackle, sending waifu red sparks spinning into the air. There was a noise behind him and Mecklinger looked up to see Bittenfeld rubbing his nose.

"Fritz, pumpkin, if your cold come and stand by the fire." Bittenfeld shook his head indignantly, crossing his arms, leaning against the thin cabin wall and trying to hide his shivers.

"No way. I don't need it, I-I'm not even cold. Idiot." He huffed and crossed his arms tighter. Mecklinger stood from the fire and crossed over to Bittenfeld before gently cupping his face.

"You're as cold as ice. Come on, please, for me?" Bittenfeld looked at him, his chin dipped so low it might as well have been on his chest.

"Well… fine, whatever." And so Mecklinger smiled, took his hand (it was warm), and pulled Bittenfeld over. They sat together, somewhat close until Bittenfeld noticed Mecklinger was shivering too. He glanced around, looking for blankets he wouldn't find, before sighing softly.

"Ernie, come here." he spread his legs and patted the space the action had created between them. Mecklinger questioned him silently. When he received a nod from Bittenfeld he crawled over and sat down. Bittenfeld wrapped his arms around his waist and squeezed him tight. He pressed kisses against his back and shoulders through the fabric of his uniform. Mecklinger smiled and relaxed into it. He couldn't feel it as well as he could have, and taking his jacket off right now might as well have been suicide, but just the thought of it was wonderful. Bittenfeld then leaned in close, pressing his chest against Mecklinger's back.

"Ernest, there's something I want to say."

Mecklinger shivered as Bittenfeld whispered in his ear, the heat from his breath and vibrations from voice making his skin tingle.

"And what would that be, Fritz?"

He placed his hand on Bittenfeld's, squeezing it with anticipation. Bittenfeld paused and nibbled on Mecklinger's ear in an absendminded sort of way as he thought.

"I really like you Ernest. I swear, I really do. I know that must seem obvious but… I wanted to say it, that's all." He huffed and Mecklinger laughed.

"You really are frightfully simple, aren't you Fritz?"

"H-hey!"

Mecklinger laughed again, patting his hand gently, running circles around the knuckles.

"I mean that in a good way Fritz. In my usual circles, everyone can get a little…" he frowned, staring at the fire, at the way it danced and the way the light played across their faces, casting strange shadows.

"…Pretentious. Where as you…" He looked up to Bittenfeld, pressing the back of his free hand against his cheek. "You're so… different. So simple, so… refreshing. A single hour with you feels as though I were flying freely among the clouds."

Bittenfeld looked down at Mecklinger's hand and sighed softly. "Yeah… I feel the same way…" He closed his eyes. "Except you're a lot more poetic than I am, so I'm not even gunna try."

Mecklinger pulled one of his grasp, sitting in front of him on his knees, cupping his face once more. "No, please, tell me."

Bittenfeld looked away, unable to keep eye contact.

"Ernest… when I'm with you…" He wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, burying his head against his chest. "It feels like… the entire world could explode into bits, and I wouldn't even care." He said roughly through a muffed voice.

Mecklinger smiled down at him, stroking the soft orange hair, curling it around his finger.. "You spoke well Fritz." he whispered as he held him tightly. "You spoke well."