As usual I have Kimmy and CWR to thank for sage advice, beta and cheerleading duties :D
The next day was slow. Young held a briefing in the mess hall, explaining the situation, as if anyone could have failed to notice the sudden drop in temperature, and giving orders that nothing was to be used that wasn't absolutely essential. He gave Becker the order to increase rations for the next few days, an increase in calories until they were warm again. Thank God their supply levels were still good. It would increase morale as well.
With power levels preventing equipment being used or recharged, most of the crew were at loose ends. He was thankful for Camile who made a few suggestions and by lunchtime at least half of the crew were in the observation lounge, wrapped in blankets and listening as people took it in turns to read aloud. Apparently the argument over the book read had taken some time. Jane Austen, Park and Chloe's suggestion and Robert Heinlein's Stranger in a Strange Land, Brody and Airman Dunning's suggestion had been heavily vetoed in favour of a Wormhole X-treme! spin-off novel that they could all yell abuse at.
"It's getting quite loud at times." Cole said as she brought lunch to the bridge.
Young finished his bridge shift at 4pm and went to the Observation Lounge to find out how far they had progressed with the book. Doctor Fisher was reading. She seemed to have a good ear and ability for mimicry. He knew she'd been with the programme for some time, but evidently she'd met enough of the original SG1 to ensure that the characters in the book sounded disturbingly like them.
He sat down next to Camile near the back. He was awkward on his bad leg, stiff with the cold and clumsy with the stick, trying to be quiet and not disrupt the story
"Have you read it already?" Camile asked him.
"Yeah." He admitted. "But I think everyone has read every book on this ship." He shivered.
She nodded. "Want to come in?" she opened the blankets slightly.
He wasn't going to say no, it was too damn cold, and let her wrap the blankets round his shoulders as well. There was a burst of faux gun noises from the audience as "theresoluteColonelDanning" shot the alien from it's perch on the top of the gun turret.
"I can't believe that someone from Icarus actually reads this crap." Young said.
Camile laughed. "Come on Everett, even you must see the humour in it."
Young grinned, he was well acquainted enough with all of the original SG1 to find it privately bloody hilarious. He also thought anyone would find something that sent up their commanding officer, line manager or whatever superior you happened to have, pretty funny. Apparently Colonel Danning was now being hit on by the attractive female alien, Young hadn't really heard the words of the story, but the yell of "Get in there my son!" from one of the scientists on the other side of the room was a slight give away, and he'd seen enough episodes to know how the story was liable to go, even if he couldn't quite remember the plot.
"How long does Rush think it will be till we get out of FTL?" she asked him quietly.
"He said probably four more days, so another three nights and then we come out on the fourth day."
"Let's just hope it isn't any longer." She said. "Else the crew are going to get really frustrated."
Young shrugged. "Nothing we can do about it. It's frustrating; I think it'd be easier to put up with the cold if we were busy."
"Is there nothing people can do?"
Young sighed. "Most anything we do drains power. According to Rush and Eli, using any power at all would be a bad idea."
She mirrored his sigh and they went back to listening to the story as Doctor Levant translated the stone which allowed the team to enter the alien base.
Young knew Rush would be loathe to come to bed with him again. However, even the communal areas, busy with crew and humming with conversation, were still cold, too cold for Rush to manage overnight. And Rush hated having to manage crowds of people all the time. To be honest, Young couldn't think of any situation more guaranteed to put Rush out of sorts, in pain, forced to socialise, unable to withdraw to any of his usual hiding places. He checked the mess and the observation lounge, the core room and finally found Rush on the bridge at a secondary console. He still had a blanket wrapped round his shoulders and wore a pair of fingerless gloves. He should have guessed, this would be the quietest of the inhabitable places on the ship.
It was gone midnight and the night shift wore on, James in the command chair with Eli and Ramirez. James acknowledged him with a "Colonel." And he nodded in response, before walking over to where Rush was hunched over the console, wrapped in his blanket. Rush looked up at Young as he stopped next to him a little unsteadily, the cold was having an adverse effect on Young's knee as well, making it ache.
"Nice gloves."
Rush glowered at him. "From Chloe. She knits." He admitted.
"They help?" Young asked curiously.
Rush shrugged then nodded. "Yeah." He turned back to the console.
There was something about the way that Rush was huddled up, not exactly pathetic but something that certainly aroused Young's sympathy. Young leaned down to speak, resting both hands on his cane, talking directly into Rush's ear.
"You ought to come to bed." He said quietly, slightly embarrassed.
"Now there's an offer." Rush murmured sarcastically.
"Rush." Young's could hear his tone was a little scandalised, rising in pitch a little and he schooled his voice to a quieter tone. "Don't make this any more damn uncomfortable than it already is."
Rush turned to look at him and Young pulled his back a little, Rush's face suddenly very close to his. Rush gave him a long look.
"Okay," Young hissed, "I get it, you hate this, but it's damn cold, you can't stay up forever and you can't sleep alone." He sighed, wondering if honesty was the best policy. Worth a try, no one else could hear. "And if I'm really honest, it's damn cold for me too and it's warmer with you in there."
Rush seemed surprised at his admission, searching his face, Young wasn't sure what for.
"At the risk of you being sarcastic again, come to bed Rush, it's late, I'm cold."
There was a pause.
"There's lots of it going on." Rush said quietly. "Eli is in with Brody and Calvos, and TJ and Cole are bunking together."
"Fine." Said Young, wondering how Rush knew all this when he was so damned antisocial. "Are you coming?"
Rush huffed. "I'll be there in a few minutes." He said. "Piss off."
Young stood, nodded to James and walked out. He made his way to his quarters. The rest of Rush's bedding was still spread across his bed, and he pulled it all into some sort of order before stripping off his pants and jacket and sliding under the covers.
He wondered, turning over Rush's throwaway comment that TJ was bunking with Cole, whether if Rush had not come to him needing this...warmth at the beginning, if he would have been brave enough to approach TJ himself. Somehow that thought as an idealised concept was attractive, but considered in a more realistic light seemed manipulative and contrived. A poor excuse to renew intimacy without addressing the fundamental issues in their relationship. In an insane way it was far easier to share his bed with Rush, there were no preconceived expectations of intimacy in that relationship.
The hatch opened and Rush slipped in quietly, closing it behind him. Young caught his eye, then suddenly uncomfortable gave him an awkward half smile and rolled over to face away. The blanket Rush had been wearing was thrown across the bed. He could hear Rush removing his pants, clink of buckle, fabric noises, and the bed shifted as he slid in.
He felt the shift of the mattress and the blankets as Rush laid down, shifting so he was under the covers. Young had expected him to move towards Young, into the warm part of the bed at least, but Rush stayed on the other side of the bed, not moving or touching Young. Young waited but nothing happened, finally he rolled over. Rush was lying on his side facing Young, only inches between them. Young found himself looking into Rush's eyes. Somehow lying face to face with Rush seemed much more intimate than being spooned up around him.
He reached out to see how cold Rush was, touching Rush's arms, bicep and the opposite forearm where it was flexed against the mattress propping him up. Rush flinched but Young slid his hands down to Rush's wrists taking hold of his hands gently. They were shockingly cold and had to be painful. The idea of moving closer was a little uncomfortable but Young scooted forward a little, wrapping his own hands around them and drawing them forward to press them against the comparative warmth of his chest.
Rush flattened his hands against the warmth of Young's chest with a hiss of pain and a grateful expression. Young pressed his palms flat over the back of Rush's hands, enveloping them in warmth. The cold seeped through his shirt and he could smell the medicated ointment TJ had given Rush for the cracked skin.
Young looked down, in the shadow of the blankets he could just see Rush's pale hands against his chest. The shadows stole the damage from Rush's skin and all he could see was Rush's narrow hands and long fingers splayed over his chest, pressed there by his own hands. He took a deep breath and Rush's fingers flexed reflexively. He looked up, Rush was watching him with a guarded expression, looking unnerved. Young wanted to say something to break the tension. He blinked and looked away, unable to manage the eye contact any longer. How could the simple contact of Rush's hands on his chest suddenly seem more uncomfortably personal than being spooned against someone from chest to knee?
Rush shivered, suddenly breaking the tension. Young felt himself shudder in reaction to the movement, and realised Rush must still be freezing. He reached out and turned out the light, then before he had a chance to change his mind, rolled, sliding under Rush's arm and moving back against Rush. He rested his head against Rush's bicep and pulled the other arm round him, tucking the hand against his belly then wrapping both hands around Rush's other hand to warm it.
Rush was still cold against him and he felt Rush lean into his warmth with an exhalation that wasn't quite a sigh, knees coming up behind his, a cold bare foot tucking round his ankle for stability. The hand on his stomach moved and Rush pulled the layers of blankets tight round them, almost over their heads, before replacing the hand. He felt Rush shudder again, and it really was freezing cold still, then relax against Young. For his part Young scooted back a little further into the other man's body craving the heat that would build in the nest of blankets. He'd been chilled all day, his knee ached and he had no idea how Rush had coped. He lay there, feeling the warmth build, Rush gradually becoming warmer, and at some point, he fell asleep.
Rush awoke. Warmth surrounded him, his limbs felt heavy and, it was inevitable he had known it would happen eventually, there was a distinct hardness in his underwear. In and of itself it was normal, typical and nothing to be bothered about. However the fact that he was spooned around Young meant he was pressed snugly up against Young's ass and that was altogether too disturbing a concept. Young shifted against him and Rush twitched and swallowed hard. Fuck, that was just wrong. Young was also likely to be distinctly unhappy about it if he woke up. Rush slid his arm out from around Young's waist and moved back carefully, rolling over to retrieve the mobile phone from the counter by the bed. His bladder was also sending him messages it would need emptying soon.
He had rolled into the cold part of the bed and shuddered as he looked for the time. Five thirty am, still early. Sleeping in here in the warm he always managed to fall asleep quickly and wake early. Behind him Young shifted and mumbled, but he slid out of bed, hissing as his feet hit the freezing cold floor. He dragged on pants and cautiously opening the door, stepped out into the corridor alert for passers by, and made his way quietly to the toilet.
The cold quite swiftly relieved the arising issue in his pants and a quick piss relieved his aching bladder. He washed his hands and stood staring into the mirror, dragging fingers through his tangled hair and absently scratching at his beard. It was still absolutely freezing in here. He could feel his hands beginning to warn him that things were going to be quite uncomfortable soon.
Well, he had two choices, go back to bed or get dressed and go find something to do. Not that there was much that he could do, but he could go to the bridge. Or he could go back and climb back into bed with Young and stay warm until such point as the other man felt the need to get up. Neither of them had a bridge shift today. He began to shiver, whatever he decided the rest of his clothes were in Young's quarters. He left the bathroom, walking back as quickly as possible and looking around a little furtively before re-entering the room.
Young looked at him drowsily from the bed, evidently only just woken up.
"Wha…?" Young said. "You went…?"
"Toilet." Rush replied in explanation.
"'S cold." Young said, eyes drooping.
Rush shed his pants and slid back into the warmth of the bed before he could reconsider his decision. Young was evidently still mostly asleep as, as Rush slid back over into the warm spot, he wrapped himself round Rush with a sigh. Rush found himself lying on his back with Young wrapped around him, leg thrown across his thighs, arm across Rush's body and head on his shoulder, face tucked into Rush's chest and dropping straight back into sleep.
As much as it had shocked Rush how undisturbed he had been by Young moving in his bed all those weeks ago, it was more surprising to him how his presence in Young's bed and movement had left Young undisturbed. The man was a soldier, and Rush would have expected him to find Rush's presence in his personal space a problem, stop him relaxing. Evidently not. His absence had woken him, though that was likely just the cold. Rush tucked the covers up tightly, closed his eyes and let himself drift in the heat radiating off the other man.
Young woke, recognising quickly this time where he was. He was snuggled up against Rush's side, head resting on Rush's chest, leg and arm wrapped round him, and almost completely under the covers. He sighed. No matter how he went to sleep with Rush, somehow he always ended up waking up in some compromising position. As long as Rush stayed asleep though, he was warm, comfortable and relaxed and didn't have to think too much about it. He shifted slightly, a little overly aware of bare flesh under his thigh, but he was too relaxed to want to shift.
It was a little disturbing how much he enjoyed this, body contact, being held. He could admit to himself, and had before, that physical comfort had been little and far between over the last few years. Rush shifted in his sleep, moved his hand up Young's back sleepily, to cup the back of Young's head, fingers tangling in Young's hair. Young moved his head into the gesture before he realised he'd even done it then stopped and sighed again.
He lay there for a long while, thoughts drifting randomly across topics, none of them important or serious.
"I woulda thought you had somewhere to be." Rush murmured.
Young tensed, startled. He had thought Rush was asleep. Rush felt relaxed, loose limbed and breathing steady. Awake, Rush was always either still and focussed or moving, never soft and relaxed.
"I thought you were asleep." Young said. "I didn't want to wake you. There's nowhere I need to be yet."
Rush's fingers flexed briefly in Young's hair before moving and sliding down to Young's shoulder. Young shifted and the arm round his back released slightly. Young contemplated how to move, but any move appeared to involve either losing the warm body contact or moving into or through an uncomfortably intimate position. He relaxed his muscles, shifting his leg slightly lower down Rush's thigh and pulling his hand back to scratch at his hair.
"Young?"
Young shifted his head and looked up at Rush.
"You moved." Rush said.
"I can move back."
"No." Rush lifted his other hand and shoved his hair out of his face. "What's the time?"
Young brought his free wrist up to look at his watch. "Eight thirty. Do you want me to move so you can go?"
"It's cold and I'm gonna hurt when I get out there." Rush said. There was a short pause, as if Rush was steeling himself to speak. "I've spent the last two days in a lot o' pain. If you don't mind I'd prefer to stay here while you're keeping it warm."
There was a heavy silence, Rush seemed to be waiting for him to respond, muscles just a little tense against Young. Young shifted his arm loosely back over Rush's chest, letting his hand dangle casually down the other side.
"We can stay for a while." He offered. "We'll have to get some food at some point, and make some sort of an appearance; else people will wonder where I've got to." He laughed quietly. "You're altogether more elusive; no-one's gonna be surprised if they don't see you."
Rush snorted. "Well another hour or two dozing would suit me fine."
Young let all the tension drain out of him, his own weight pressing him into the mattress and Rush's side. There didn't seem a better way to lie, and moving apart would defeat the point of being here. Rush exhaled and relaxed, seemingly in response and the tension lifted.
"Fine," Young murmured. "Dozing in the warm it is then."
They managed another hour and a half of napping, both of them drifting in and out of sleep before Young's stomach growled so loudly that Rush actually laughed. Rush slid out from under Young's arm and reaching out, pulled their clothes into the bed to warm them up before they dressed.
The corridor outside was deserted so they left the room together and made for the mess hall. It was reasonably quiet, just a handful of people to look up as they walked in. Becker served them up two good sized portions of a thick porridge, steaming and smelling sweet with the dried fruit that had been cooked into it. It tasted as good as it smelled. Young looked up at Rush, still wrapped in his blanket, who had taken a seat opposite him and was shovelling porridge into his mouth single-mindedly. He looked back down and attended to his own meal while it was still hot.
Well rested, full of hot, tasty food, sitting in companionable silence Young wasn't quite sure what he should do next.
"Chess?" said Rush.
But that certainly wasn't something he'd considered.
"Fine." Young said. "Sounds good."
"Board's in m' quarters." Rush said, going to stand.
"No, it's freezing, you stay here, I'll get it." Young said. "You'll be good for nothing by the time you get back."
Young collected the chess board as quickly as possible. On the edge of the inhabited area by Rush's quarters the cold was extreme, his breath hanging in chilled clouds in the air. He grabbed the board and made his way back to the mess hall. When he got back, TJ had stolen his seat opposite Rush, wrapped in her own blanket. Her voice was quiet but intent.
"Look Doctor, I know you're a very private person, but you know these temperatures are bad for you. You shouldn't be sleeping on your own, and honestly, no one is. I'm not."
Rush looked up from the Ancient mug of tea he had his gloved hands wrapped around.
"Lieutenant Johansen…"
Young slid onto the bench next to TJ.
"He's been in with me." Young said quietly. "I asked. I couldn't ask anyone under my command, could I TJ? It'd be inappropriate for me to put myself in a position that could be seen as compromising. Rush humoured me."
TJ looked surprised. She looked from Rush to Young and back again. Rush shrugged.
"He explained." Rush lied, his voice a low mutter. "He had a good point. I needed somewhere warm. It's not been the most…comfortable situation…"
Young rolled his eyes at Rush, safe as TJ was still looking at the other man.
"…but yes. We're warm enough."
"Fine." TJ said looking at one then the other. "I'm glad you're both okay. I was a little concerned."
"We're fine TJ." Young said.
She still looked a little concerned, although Young wasn't sure what was bothering her but she nodded. Pulling her blanket round her again, she stood and left.
Rush and Young played chess until Becker started serving the midday meal, then started again after eating until the afternoon shift change.
"We'd better have a quick briefing with Scott and Camile." Young said.
"No point until I've checked our situation." Rush said. "Schedule it for five thirty and I'll take a look at the systems on the bridge."
Rush stood, tugging the blankets around him and left. Young stared at the chess board in front of him, then sighing, packed the chess pieces in the fabric bag and put them on top of the board. He pulled out his radio and let Camile, Scott and TJ know about the briefing, then collected another cup of tea and sat back down.
TJ walked in first. She grabbed a cup of tea from the counter and walked over.
"Still here?" She asked.
"Nothing better to do." Young said.
She sat down opposite him. "I was kind of surprised about you and Rush." She tipped he her head a little and regarded him over the rim of her cup.
Young shrugged. "I was kinda stuck for options." He gave a wry smile. "And Rush is too…well too Rush to ask anyone outright."
She laughed. "Yeah." She looked at the table. "You didn't ask me." She said quietly, with a slight smile. Young wasn't sure, but he didn't think she looked upset, maybe a little wistful.
"It would have seemed kinda…" he floundered, casting around for the right words, "presumptuous?"
She looked at him.
"We only really just started talking off duty again." He said. "And then if I went and asked you to share a bed…?" He took a breath and let it out slowly. "It might have given the wrong impression. Jut start talking to someone you've been involved with and then you try and get into bed with them?"
She gave a quiet laugh. "Yeah, I see what you mean. And I might well have thought that."
"And then I realised Rush would probably try and get through it on his own." Young said.
"And you solved two problems at once." She said.
"Well, he kinda asked when I said something." Young said, feeling slightly guilty about lying. "He wasn't as stubborn about it as I thought he was."
TJ raised her eyebrows. "That's a surprise."
"Yeah." Young agreed. "He's been surprising me quite a lot recently."
TJ gave him a wicked grin. "If I was the gossiping type I'd ask you what he's like in bed."
Young gave her a scandalised look, then leaned forward over the table, a conspiratorial look on his face. "Well, you know TJ…?" He said quietly. She leaned in a little, and he dropped his voice even further. "He spoons in his sleep."
TJ's look was absolutely priceless.