TW: Post-Apocalypse!AU, peril, light mentions of gore and dead things, also world devastation scenarios

Knee deep in snow, Smith stopped tearing at the vines frozen to the shrubs and trees. "Trott, for fucks sake lets just walk on the road."

Trott sighed, and looked at the sky. The sun was a hazy bright spot behind the clouds and perpetual haze, a distorted disc hovering over the southern horizon. It was hard to tell beneath the layers of winter clothes, but Ross thought he was probably chewing on his lip as his eyes flicked back and forth, measuring the odds of them getting to the town by nightfall if they kept fighting through the tangled underbrush. The house they'd claimed as theirs was far away from any of the other people they'd seen, perched up on a hill and in remarkably intact condition. But it meant that if they needed to make the long trek to town, it took the better part of a day. And they would have to spend the night camping in the outskirts before finding what they could and heading home the next day. They normally avoided the roads, and the almost surety of encountering or passing another person. They were lucky they hadn't been killed on the occasions they had, stupidly, used the road to get into town. Today, with the deep snow piled in drifts and the threat of more on the way, the road was looking better and better.

"Fine, move out gents." Trott turned and climbed over a downed tree, heading towards the road.

Smith clasped his hands together in mock prayer and turned his face skyward with a mouthed "Thank you". Ross snorted and followed behind Smith, taking up the rear of their little procession. He lost himself in the rhythm of placing one booted foot after the other into the tracks of Trott and Smith. So consumed in the pattern of his breath and the crunch of snow, he bumped into Smith. He peered around Smith's shoulder.

"Fucking hell, I forgot that the creek was in the way." Trott shifted his pack and stared at the snow covered dip. Where the water ran over the rocks the snow and ice vanished and revealed black water.

"Theres a tree over there, we can try to cross on it?" Ross pointed. The tree straddled most of the frozen stream, tipped over after water had cut away at the bank beneath its roots.

"God. This is not going well."

"Trott, It'll be fine. You'll thank me when we can have hot showers again without having to lug water all over the house." Smith pushed him towards the tree.

"It's a far cry from the filth bridge Smith." Ross smiled beneath his scarf, and Trott looked up at him eyes crinkling at the corners.

"God I miss games, I would absolutely whore Smith out for a couple hours on a DS" Smith crouched down on the tree, using the branches as holds as he half crawled along it. He turned just enough that they could hear him.

"Only if I get to play it too" He reached the end of the trunk, where the last of the branches dipped down into the water. He leapt the last few feet to the bank, and scrambled up.

"You don't even like DS Smith" Trott half shouted as Ross began his crawl along the tree. It wasn't too bad, despite the way that it bounced with every step he took. He paused at the end of the trunk. It looked so much farther standing at the gap than it had from the far side. He jumped, Smith catching his arm and helping him up to the flat floodplain.

"Well then go for an Xbox, we can all play GTA for a bit. Offer a blowie from Ross too to seal the deal" Smith patted his shoulder and Ross rolled his eyes. Smith smiled beneath his ice caked beard. He claimed it helped keep his face warm. Ross thought it made him look like a lumberjack, especially with the woolen sweaters that Trott had scored from an abandoned thrift store back in the summer. His foresight had saved them when winter hit hard, and early. During the first few weeks of biting cold, they'd been forced to leave what had been their home. Outnumbered and outgunned, they agreed to leave and take their chances in the outdoors rather than defend their old place. Finding the house on the hill had ultimately secured their survival, but if Trott hadn't prepared for winter long before the general panic as the weather turned cold, they might not have made it. There was lots to be had, but most of it was useless. What could you do with pool noodles when you were desperate for food and shelter. He moved closer to Smith, pressing against his side and trying to fight back the images of frozen bodies on the roadside, superimposed with the faces of Smith and Trott.

A wet shattering sound and Trott's yell broke through his thoughts.

"Oh fuck, Trott!" Smith shouted and slid back down the bank, catching himself just before he too fell onto the ice. Ross stared, dumbstruck. Trott was chest deep in the water, trying to pull himself out from where he must have slipped. The ice broke beneath his hands, and Trott struggled to stay upright as Smith reached out towards him. Ross hesitated at the top of the bank, would be better to go down or stay out of Smith's way?

"Ross grab my hand!" Smith reached up and back to him with one arm. Ross froze, startled and reeling. "Take my fucking hand Ross!" Smith's shout jerked him into action and he took Smith's arm, bracing on his knees as Smith used his weight to ground himself to the steep slope. Smith pulled Trott out of the water, dripping and covered in mud and dead leaves. Smith pushed him the rest of the way up the slope, his clothes caking with snow wherever he touched as he climbed up to the top. Smith followed him and stood, hands braced on his knees and breath fogging in the air as he panted.

"Sorry guys, my foot slipped on the trunk" Trott's voice shook as his breath came in ragged gasps.

"Jesus Trott, we need to get you in dry clothes" Ross brushed the snow off as best he could, but Trott's clothes were soaked and the snow clung to his dripping jeans.

"Oh yeah? And just how do you plan to manage that Ross?" The venom in Smith's voice stung and Ross looked away, hurt more than he'd like to admit.

"Smith, I'm fine. Chill." Ross would have laughed at Trott's word choice if it weren't for the way his lips were turning blue, and the pauses he had to take between words to try and breathe.

"Fuck. I'm sorry Ross. You're right, we need to find a house or something."

"Well, lets get to the road first. C'mon Trott, keep moving yeah?" Ross pulled Trott by the elbow, and he lurched into a walk again. They climbed the hill, up and away from the stream. The trees ended abruptly and a field lay before them, tall heads of the long dead grass poking up through the deep snow.

Free from the trees they were able to cross the rolling expanse of former farmland easily. As close as the long dead powerlines seemed, they approached them painfully slowly. Ross had to push down the panic, they weren't going fast enough. He kept looking back over his shoulder, making sure he didn't pull too far ahead of Trott and Smith. Trott's steps were slow and stiff, but he seemed to be managing alright.

"C'mon mate, keep up." He forced his voice to be light, joking.

"You can always count on good ol' Trott to be slow." Smith joined in, cheerful voice falling hollow and muffled onto the snow.

"You both suck. Remind me why I even agreed that we should go out in this." He waved halfheartedly at the snowy surroundings as they finally reached the road.

Ross jumped over the ditch, legs sinking into the piled snow on the other side. Smith helped Trott avoid the deep snow gathered in the ditch, hand pushing at his back as he half fell across to the embankment. Ross took Trott's arm and helped him up to the flat of the road. Even through the layers he could feel Trott shivering. He met Smith's eyes over Trott's head and saw his own rising fear reflected in Smith's gaze.

"We're going to town because we need a new axe, maybe a sled, and while we're at it hardware shopping we can get the fixings for a nice shower."

"Plus maybe we'll get lucky and find some Kinder." It was easy to fall back on old jokes, paths they'd talked down a thousand times. The world in which they received so much chocolate in the mail that he'd had to beg people to take it off them seemed so far from what their life was now.

"If we still had facebook I'd make you a page for Kinder, then you could be married to it Ross." They walked side by side down the road, despite his shivering it seemed that talking helped Trott stay distracted. Ross prayed they would find a house in decent shape. Taking Trott's bait, Smith joined in on the game.

"If we still could, I'd do nothing but watch movies for a whole day"

"Oh mate, if we still had electricity we could marathon the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings finally." Ross was disappointed they'd never gotten to spend the day watching all the films. They meant to, and they'd seen them all, but they had put off the marathon until it was too late.

"If we still had cars I'd do donuts in this snow." Trott took his turn, and they both looked at Smith.

"If we still could...fly on planes I'd take us somewhere warm and tropical."

"D'you think those places are colder now too?" News was so sparse, it was hard to imagine what was happening in the rest of the world. For all they knew, England had suddenly been transported to another dimension, leaving the rest of Earth unchanged.

"Probably Ross, what with the...the stuff in the atmosphere. Y'know like that old times when that volcano fucked everything up" Trott stopped talking, leaving his statement as a vague explanation. "Your turn Ross"

"Oh, I suppose. If could still do it I'd like to have ice cream again."

"God always food with you Ross." Smith smiled.

"I miss it!"

"I'm too cold to think about eating ice cream, don't even talk about it Ross." Ross laughed, but the joy in their game died with the reminder that their situation was getting increasingly dire.

"I think there's some houses over the hill Trott, just a few more miles."

Their talking lapsed, again, and Ross lost himself thinking about the projects he needed to do around the house. They had managed to scavenge insulation from the more ruined houses nearer theirs, and he'd used his summer of helping his dad do basic carpentry to make their place as winter tight as he could. They were warm, even if the walls didn't look pretty. Nestled beneath their blankets on the remarkably comfortable mattress they could sleep in relative ease. Lost in thought, he kept walking even as his mind registered Trott slowing to a stop, kneeling down on all fours. Smith reacted first, crouching next to him with a worried look on his face.

"Trott, you okay?" It was painfully obvious to Ross that things were not okay.

"Jus' let me take a rest Smith." He pushed at Smith's arm, eyes focused on some middle distance between his bowed head and the snow.

"No, Trott, we're almost there mate. C'mon Smith help him up. We'll help you there Trott. You'll feel better if you have a rest in a house yeah?" With Smith on Trott's other arm they managed to get him upright again. Hazy remembrances of Smith's wilderness survival advice floated in Ross' mind. Trott's hands absently tugged at his scarf and hat, his hair sticking every which way as he pulled the fleece from his head.

"Trott, no. Put those back on." Smith tugged the cap back over Trott's head.

"I'm too hot Smith, fuck off." He clumsily swung an arm at Smith. The anger in his slurred voice hurt. At least he didn't take the hat off again.

"Come on Trott, we have to keep going." Ross took one of his flailing hands, pulling gently to get him moving again. Smith took the other and they half dragged Trott until he managed to get the rhythm of walking.

"Fuck guys, I'm sorry." Trott mumbled.

"Oh sure, so inconvenient of you to fall in the river like that Trott. Fucking hell leave it to Scrottimus." Ross hoped Trott couldn't hear the fear behind Smith's words, because he could.

"I thought walruses were supposed to like cold water." He prayed that their babble could keep Trott going, tethered to the here and now. He shook images of blue frozen skin from his mind with a shudder.

"I hate to break it to you but Trott isn't actually a walrus. I know you're into that furry shit." The barest hint of a smile came with Smith's tired and half hearted remark.

"Smith I put a leash and collar on you one time. Once!" They were so much more frantic now, when they did have sex. An all too short flurry of exhausted touches that ended when they either got off or fell asleep in between each other's orgasms. Ross tried to remember the last time they had sex and were slow about it, and couldn't.

"Yeah, but don't tell me you don't want to do it again." Smith watched Trott, mouth seeming to form the words automatically. It was just like a game. Let the words flow, focus on doing what needed to be done. Ross had never been that good at the multitasking, he took a deep breath. He had to do it for Trott.

"Not as much as I think Trott wants to put collars on both of us, right Trott?" He waited, and Trott blinked, brow furrowed beneath the brim of his hat.

"What? Sorry what's happening?" The words sounded so incredibly soft around the edges. It reminded Ross of when they had drunkenly tried to do tongue twisters with marshmallows in their mouths for a Christmas livestream.

"Nothing mate, nothing at all." He swallowed, throat dry from the cold air he sucked in through the fabric of his scarf.

"Ross, look." Smith jerked his head. Down the road and almost hidden by a line of trees were several houses clustered together. They might just make it.

"Thank god." Ross breathed. He picked up the pace, pulling Trott into a slightly faster stumble. He barely seemed able to pick up his feet anymore, and he slipped from their arms as they lost the rhythm of steps.

"We need to get him inside Ross, this is so bad." Ross nodded, unable to vocalize his agreement and say what they were both thinking.

Smith shifted Trott's arm up around his shoulders and Ross copied his position. They lifted him as best they could, swinging Trott's legs up between them. Ross' mittened hand slipped on Smith's jacket, and he struggled for purchase as they made a seat of their arms. Trott's head lolled on to Ross' shoulder, his blinks slow and eyes unfocused. Ross tightened his free arm around Trott's waist, steadying him as best he could while they pressed on. With creeping horror he realized Trott had stopped shivering.

Somehow they made it to the little group of houses. The first had been gutted by fire, broken windows with soot streaking towards the sky, open to the blackened interior. The house across the street looked almost intact, and wordlessly Smith guided them to it. The front door was ajar, and Ross kicked it fully open. Snow fluttered onto the stiff and dirty carpet in the entryway. Lit by the grey light from outside Ross looked around at the remains of life. Nature had pressed forward, damp and seeds leaving rust and vegetation in their wake. These houses must have been left before everything went to shit, they were father gone than most. Nature hadn't pushed aside the leftovers, instead they had grown atop them. A glass still stood on a dust covered end table, the dark remains of the glass's contents still lingered as a smear in the bottom of the cup. The shining crystal stood out still and hard against the rotten and sprouting couch behind it. On its way to towards the light from a shattered window was a miniscule sapling, roots buried in the most deteriorated cushion. He followed Smith's lead and they carried Trott to the stair, gently setting him down on the steps that rose to the second floor.

"Stay with him. I'm going to look for the fireplace, I saw a chimney." Ross nodded and Smith disappeared into what had once been a cheerfully decorated kitchen. Now, the floral tile backsplash behind the sink was covered in dark mold, blue flowers barely visible through the grime. Ross settled on the stairs next to Trott. Trott leaned against the rail where they'd left him, breath barely fogging in the chill. At a loss, he pulled Trott into his lap, cradling him as best he could through the bulky layers and pack. His cheek pressed against Trott's clammy forehead, and Ross felt sick. The wetness of Trott's clothes was cut by the fact that they were partially frozen stiff. But he could feel his own pants getting damp as his body heat melted the snow and ice. The sounds of Smith walking around the house drifted through the dust mote laden air. His quick footsteps echoed hollow on the floors, caution for rot apparently buried under his fear for Trott. Every now and then he would curse, and with each passing moment Ross's heart sank. The owners might have taken out the fireplace or stove long ago, leaving the chimney as a relic of times when liquid fuel wasn't an option. They could certainly make a fire on the floor, but it would be so much better if there was a stove. He heard a shout, and his head snapped up. Had Smith fallen? He heard Smith's heavy footfall on stairs, coming back up from a basement.

"Ross! Ross, fuck, there's a stove in the basement. C'mon, Hurry!" He scooped Trott up to carry him cradled to his chest, turning sideways to fit through the narrow doorway that led into the dark below. Trott's feet knocked against the door frame, and Smith disappeared into the gloom. Ross followed them, hesitant on the creaking steps he could only dimly see. When he pulled his hand away from the rail, it was grey with dirt. He brushed the dust off against his pants and looked around the cellar.

There were several small windows, tucked near the ceiling. Some light shone through the gap above the snow, and as Ross' eyes adjusted he could see that the basement had once been a typical teenage retreat. A remarkably intact futon slumped in front of a comparably destroyed television set tucked into a corner. DVD cases lay cracked and scattered on the floor, and what looked like a pool table tilted on two intact legs in the other corner. Near the center support behind the stairs was the stove, crouched like a sleeping beast in the gloom. Ross's eyes widened, beyond it he could see a rack with some logs still left in it.

At best he'd been passively religious. He'd like to think there was something more than just empty meaningless existence. When the dark of night and the toil of the day weighed on him he sometimes lost all sense that some great power might be watching over them. Now in the face of their sudden good fortune he sent out thanks. Pushing the unspoken words with his mind towards the aching place in his chest that only ever felt filled when he was pressed close to Smith and Trott. Mental fingers let go, and he pictured the thought fluttering up and away.

Moment passed, he focused on pulling logs from the pile. He hoped the chimney was clear, though there wasn't really time to think about that now. He spied some yellowed newsprint and small pieces of wood in the remains of a cardboard box. Grabbing some of the kindling and paper he returned to the stove. The hinges screamed with neglect as he opened the door.

"Smith, you're better at this than me. Get over here" His voice was quiet, muffled in the stillness of the basement.

"Get Trott out of his clothes and in the sleeping bags, I'll get the fire started" Smith opened his pack and tossed his sleeping bag towards Ross before pulling out his matches.

He carried the sleeping bag to where Trott lay on the futon pad. Smith had pulled it close to the stove, and Ross was grateful they didn't have to camp on the cement floor. He knelt, running a hand over Trott's cheek.

"Hey" he smiled down at Trott, and his heart fluttered when Trott smiled weakly back.

"Ross" his name gusted out, more breath than word. At least he was still conscious, and Trott still recognized him.

"Let's get you out of these clothes yeah?" he pulled off the mittens and fumbled with the zipper to Trott's jacket. Smith had already dumped out the contents of Trott's pack, his own sleeping bag and most of the other items soaked and useless. Ross frowned as he worked the still wet clothes off of Trott, revealing pale and cold skin. He stripped Trott down to his boxers, leaving the hat on his head, since it was dry. He pulled Smith's sleeping bag out of its little sack, wrapping the slippery synthetic fabric around Trott's near nakedness as quickly as he could. He did the same with his own sleeping bag, cocooning Trott. Light and a dry crackle burst from the stove. Smith sat back on his heels and admired the small blaze he had sprung from the neat nest of paper and kindling. He returned to the futon, sitting heavily next to Ross on the edge of the mat.

"You should get in there with him." He tilted his chin towards the swaddled Trott.

"Does that really work?" Ross whispered back incredulously.

"Yeah, skin to skin mate. I'm going to go see if there's anything that could hold water in the kitchen, try and get some water hot. Hopefully Trott will drink it, the warmth should do him good." He turned to lean on an elbow next to Trott. "You'd better hang in there you prick. We need to survive until this is all over, and then I can take advantage of your rusty Trials skills and finally win." He squeezed Trott's shoulder, face tight and anxious. He cleared his throat and blinked, returning to the stove to add a few larger logs. Satisfied that the wood was starting to catch, he swung the door to the stove mostly shut, and headed back up the stairs. Ross could feel the warmth of the fire on his face, comforting against the chill that still pressed on them. Shivering, he pulled off his coat and sweaters, laying them as best he could over Trott. He kicked off his boots and slid off his own pants for good measure, the snow on them would only make the makeshift bed wet as the room warmed. Hesitating a moment, he considered leaving his shirt on. Smith had said skin to skin though, so he pulled it off too. Before he got too cold himself, he peeled back the wrapped sleeping bags and curled behind Trott. He wrapped an arm around Trott's front, laying his hand over Trott's chest. He could feel Trott's heart beating beneath his chilly skin, but he didn't know enough to tell if it was fast or slow, or just plain normal. It was soothing feeling Trott's ribs expand and contract beneath his fingers though. He pressed close to Trott, willing the heat that he could feel leaving him into Trott's body.

The mat and sleeping bags had been cold when he first crawled in, but now they no longer raised goosebumps as they brushed against his arms. Surely that was a good sign. He buried his nose in the soft fleece of Trott's hat and squeezed his eyes shut. Trott mumbled something incoherent, hand clenching the fabric of the sleeping bag. It wasn't long before Smith's boots thumped on the stairs, and he descended back into the basement.

"You'll never believe it, not only did I find a pot, but there was tea in the cupboard. And also some not too shitty blankets." He tossed the blankets next to Ross and clanged down the pan onto the top of the stove. He peered at the flame inside. Apparently satisfied, he closed the door the rest of the way, fiddling with the knobs and handles. Ross perked up at the prospect of tea. They made do with whatever Trott could identify as not poisonous, but it had been a long time since they'd had the real thing. "I dunno how looters missed this place, but thank god they did." He did as Ross had and unlaced his boots, shrugging out of his own outerwear and adding it to the mound on top of Trott. He spread a moth-eaten comforter that bled down on the mess of sleeping bags and coats. On Trott's other side he burrowed under the blankets, still more clothed than Ross was. His arm was warm where it pressed on Ross's and one wool socked foot rubbed at Ross' ankle.

"D'you think he'll be okay?" Ross whispered, words out before he could process whether he actually wanted to hear that answer.

"I think so. I hope so." His thumb drew circles on Ross' arm and he sighed.

"Lemme up, 'm late for work" Smith jumped when Trott spoke, startled by the sudden words.

"We're on vacation Trott, get some rest." his eyes didn't leave Ross' as he spoke. It seemed better to go along with whatever Trott said than try and argue with his delusions.

"But editing" Trott squirmed a bit, turning half onto his back and curling so his face pressed into the crook of Smith's neck.

"I took care of it Trott, it's all done. Go to sleep." Ross kissed Trott, still looking at Smith as he gently pressed his lips to Trott's neck. Smith pulled the blankets further up, until only the very top of Trott's hat peeked out from beneath the fabric. They lay beneath the covers, listening to the gentle creak of the house above them and the tick of the stove as the metal heated up. Smith fidgeted; pressing his wrist to Trotts forehead, adjusting the blankets, twitching his feet back and forth. After a while of restlessness he got up and quietly added more wood to the now blazing stove. He slid on his boots without bothering to lace them and went up the stairs. When he returned he carried an armful of things Ross couldn't make out, setting them around the room. Between the blankets and the steadily warming basement he could feel himself getting sleepy.

He struggled to keep his eyes open, the glimpses of Smith growing more infrequent until he must have let go of wakefulness.

"Ross." He woke with a start. Smith's mouth twitched in a fleeting smile as Ross' eyes snapped open and met his.

"How long was I asleep?" He muttered groggily.

"Maybe an hour. It's getting dark outside. Look" he pointed from beneath a blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders towards the shivering lump that was Trott.

"Oh, god. He's shivering again Smith!"

"Yeah, he is. That's good. We want him to be doing that. It means he's warming up."

"Oh." The fear ebbed again, replaced with relief and wakefulness. He smiled sheepishly at Smith. Hang on, he could see Smith awfully well for it getting dark out. While he'd been asleep Smith must have done more looking around.

"Found some candles and shit upstairs. And I hung Trott's things up to dry." He gestured to the chairs he'd draped Trott's clothes over. A dozen or so colorful jar candles were spread out over the floor. Their mixed scents combined in a way that might have been unpleasant, had it not evoked an aching comfort in Ross.

"Did you sleep at all Smith?" He looked tired, hunched over as he was on a few piled couch cushions.

"Nah. I needed to do something, anything. I..." he trailed off and looked at Trott, then away. "I couldn't bear to lay there and do nothing with Trott like that." His quiet voice sent a chill down Ross' spine.

"I'm sorry I didn't help." He'd fucking fallen asleep, when he should have been doing something to help make their dire situation better. Smith had been up sick with worry from the sounds of it, and he'd just dozed off like nothing was the matter.

"You did help Ross. You helped to warm him up. Because you were there I could do this other shit. Trott needed you more than I did" he fell silent, watching the flames lick slowly against the glass at the front of the stove. He finally spoke after a few minutes of silence. "Water's hot. Let's see if we can get Trott up and something in him" He rose, letting the blanket slide from his shoulders. He filled one of the now empty water bottles from the pot, spilling a few drops of water onto the stove. The droplets popped and vanished into steam. He tore the string off the teabag, tossing the little sachet of tea into the bottle and tilting it gently to wash the water over the leaves. Through the thick clear plastic Ross watched the water darken. Smith settled back beside them, setting the bottle on the floor to let time do the rest.

"Trott. Trott mate, wake up" he pulled the hat from Trott's head and ran his fingers through the messy strands.

"Mm, feels good Smith." Trott's teeth chattered as he spoke, but he sounded like himself again. Sleepy and not as snarky as he normally was, but the worrying slur and confusion seemed gone. He tilted his head a bit, leaning into Smith's touch. Ross stomach twisted as Smith's dirty and winter cracked hands gently smoothed Trott's hair.

"Smith says he made some tea for you. I think I saw him pissing in the bottle though. It's warm either way" Trott chuckled against Ross and cracked his eyes open. Ross' helped him sit up and pulled a blanket up around Trott's shoulders.

"Fuck, where are we?"

"In a house a little bit outside of town. We got really lucky. You might not've... that is we were worried that..." Smith paused with a frown "It was lucky." He ended feebly.

Rather than come up with something better to say, he picked up the bottle of tea and scooched next to Trott on the bed. Trott reached a trembling hand out to take the bottle but Smith swatted him away.

"Can't have you spilling tea everywhere." With one arm wrapped around Trott's shoulders he lifted the bottle up to his mouth.

"You're fucking insane" Trott muttered, but he took sips of the tea as Smith held the bottle for him with tenderness that Ross had rarely seen. The two of them, lit by the candles and firelight, dirty and unwashed, haggard and exhausted, had never looked as good as they did in that moment. Ross felt tears welling up in his eyes, the knowledge that they might have lost Trott, that he might never have gotten to see the two people he cared about most being so gentle with each other, filled him. Before he knew it, he was full out crying. Smith and Trott looked at him, worry mirrored on their faces as he tried to suppress the awful wet sobs. For a delirious moment, he realized he sounded like his father.

Trott reached out an arm, and he fell into his embrace, pulling Smith into the hug and nuzzling Trott's hair with his face. He wasn't even kissing him anymore, just pushing his mouth to the softness that was Trott to try and convey just how much he loved him. They never had been good with words. Smith sniffed, and Ross saw that he was crying too. That quiet crying that only ever came after Smith's angry outbursts left only the sadness. He held them tighter, rocking Trott between their bodies until the tears slowed, and finally stopped.

"Sorry" he croaked. He pulled back and wiped at his face, trying his best to smile. Things would be fine. Smith smiled his cat got the mouse grin, feeble as it was with his tears still painted on his face, and looked at Trott. Trott rolled his eyes, he wasn't impressed with whatever Smith's train of thought was, and tugged the bottle of tea so he could keep drinking.

"We'll accept your apology Ross, but only if you suck us off" that would explain Trott's eye roll.

"Not tonight" Trott grumbled around the last of his tea. "I'm too fucking tired"

"Lord knows Trott needs his beauty sleep before a good raid."

"We're still going tomorrow?" Ross breathed, trying to push the last of the urge to cry from his mind, and crawled over to his pack. They'd not had dinner, so he pulled out the tin of food they'd packed, tossing it to Smith.

"Don't see why not. We have to go somewhere and we're so close we might as well make the trip worthwhile" Trott was ever practical.

Smith passed some of the jerky and oddly chewy dried apples to Trott. Ross and Smith watched as he shoved some of the fruit in his mouth. Satisfied that he was eating, Smith doled out the rest of the food allotted for the meal.

"You sure we're going to be able to get to town and then back home?" It was hard enough getting back without having to go the rest of the way into town. They were on the outskirts now, and really only had a mile or two to go. But it was still more walking to shove into the short daylight hours.

"Only one way to find out" Trott's voice was serious even if the shrug was nonchalant. "I get the first shower once Smith figures that damn thing he's got planned out" He smiled, wicked quirk in his lips curling around the rim of the bottle.

"Hey, I'm doing all the work I should get first go!" Smith smiled and bumped Trott with his shoulder.

"Guys, we can all stand together in the glorious, steamy, hot, hopefully perfectly pressurized water. At least until it runs out."

"See this is why we keep you around Ross. Smith, take notes" Trott finished his tea and settled down into the blankets, leaning back onto Ross with a contented hum. Pleasure swelled in him as he realized Trott had stopped shivering. Smith was too busy yawning to make a quip back, and Ross caught Trott looking at him fondly while his eyes were closed. "Sleepy?"

"Yeah, had to haul your ass all the way here mate." Smith settled beside Trott, working his boots off with his feet while his arms snaked between Trott's back and Ross' front.

"Payback for all the times I drove you around." Trott's eyes were closed, and his voice was quiet. Smith didn't respond, lips and nose pressed to Trott's forehead. His arm twitched, a sure sign he was almost asleep. Ross leaned down, kissing both of them gently. He managed to get his arm over the both of them, and he squeezed them both gently. Safe and sound, in his arms. Where they belonged.

Credit to leonandon on AO3