Gavin was frustrated, but Merrick was furious. His teeth pressed hard together, grinding, his expression a pure snarl--and then he spun and stabbed his dagger into the nearest tree, dragging it down to leave a deep scar there.
Normally, he would have done his best to calm the situation - make some kind of disarming joke, or something. But he was too tired, cold, wet and frustrated - and Merrick hissing as he gouged out a tree made the hair raise on his spine. He shivered visibly.
"I don't think fucking a tree is going to help," He said finally, turning to Merrick. "Or killing it. Or really, anything to do with the tree, probably isn't as helpful as you'd think."
For some reason Gavin has not yet grasped that joking with Merrick during an angry fit is a terrible idea. He wheeled on Gavin and swept his dagger in a swift circle, aiming it at Gavin's throat.
He breathes heavily through his teeth, eyes completely wild.
It wasn't that he hadn't grasped it so much that he couldn't help it - but the knife was a very good reminder as it passed within a foot of his throat. He stopped dead still, watching him. Okay. Not good. Angrier than he thought he'd been. Angry enough to hurt himself, or Gavin, or both.
"Put the knife down, Merrick," He said, his voice more stable than he thought it would be. "If you want to fight me, do it with your hands."
Merrick didn't have any intention of hurting Gavin, and he realizes this even before Gavin speaks. He slowly lowers his knife, pupils no longer blown, and turns away from his hunting partner for the moment.
He's trying to get a grip on himself, but it's so hard. He needs Pel or Cyril to calm him down, but they're not here. They're miles from camp, and it's dark, and he's stuck out here with Gavin.
Don't open your mouth, Gavin. Don't make it worse.
As soon as it was out of his mouth, he regretted it. Doubly so when Merrick
shoved him, and in order not to fall backwards his hand shot out to grab
Merrick's arm to steady himself. He flushed, half embarrassed and half
angry, his reddened ears flattening backwards.
"I hunt perfectly well!" Just because he wasn't as good at it as Merrick,
didn't mean that he couldn't. It wasn't his fault he kept getting
distracted. "I got three arrows into that last one! It's not my fault we're
hunting apparent immortals. Besides, if I was by myself this would be a
hundred times easier."
Merrick's eyes, which had been blazing with anger this whole time, suddenly went cold. His ears twitched with agitation, but his body went rigid like a cat about to pounce.
If Merrick's eyes went cold, Gavin's blood went colder - a real fear
kicking in to make his heart thump heavily.
"You -- " But he was locked into it, now, the flush spreading even darker,
his ears dropping low. "Look, it's really hard to concentrate with you
doing all that-- hunting-- thing." Wow. Good one, Gavin, really fucking
suave. "If you could maybe try not to strike a pose every time you stop for
breath --"
The ice in Merrick's eyes thawed quickly. Now, he was utterly confused. The anger and frustration were still churning inside him, and he was having trouble reacting to this sudden diversion. It simply made no sense to him whatsoever.
"What?" was all he could say. He hadn't yet relaxed, hackles still raised, perfectly prepared to crush his fist into Gavin's strange, stupid face.
Gavin realised, then, that he was still holding onto him - and abruptly let
go, stepping back a foot.
"Look, you just - when you're hunting, you do this thing where you--" The
flush only deepened, and if Gavin had felt like an idiot before, he now
knew, absolutely and completely, that he was one.
"Never mind. Never mind! Go back to hitting me, or whatever you were about
to do."
Merrick was used to the shoddy excuses Gavin made, but this? This was absolutely a curveball and Merrick had no idea how to handle it. In his confusion, he resorted to his first response mechanism: violence.
He saw Gavin step back and reached forward to seize him by the front of his scarf, tugging him close again.
"You're not weaseling out of this. I do what thing?"
It would have been a very intimidating display were he not blushing to the tips of his ears.
Gavin swallowed - suddenly very, very aware of just how close Merrick was,
how flushed they both were.
"You... your whole body, you just--" God, why were Merrick's lips so close?
That was definitely not fair. "... I can't stop watching you, when you
hunt," he admitted, the confession coming out in a breathless, almost
accusatory rush. "Okay? Is this what you wanted to hear? That as soon as
you set your sights on prey I can't-- take my eyes away--"
A new wave of anger crashed over Merrick. He was frustrated and exhausted and his entire body ached from the rigorous hunt, and now Gavin was throwing this at him? Ordinarily he'd shrink back, tenuous and unsure, but he was a different person when rage and mania took over.
And he was so, so tired of the sound of Gavin's voice.
His fingers tightened around Gavin's scarf as he yanked him forward, tugging his head down for a sudden, crashing kiss. It wasn't tenuous or unsure-- it was fierce and biting, wild as he trembled from the force of his own emotions.
It was pretty much the opposite of what Gavin expected - catching him
completely by surprise, making him accidentally bite the inside of his
cheek as Merrick stole his mouth. Surprise kept him from reacting for a few
seconds, but when he did he shoved back - hard - panting as he caught his
breath.
It was a stupid idea, really. Incredibly stupid. He knew that Merrick was
just in a state, knew that he just wanted to take it out on someone and
Gavin happened to be there, but it was... well. Unfairly arousing, to put
it bluntly. So even though he'd literally shoved Merrick away a half heart
beat before - he lunged forward to take a kiss that was almost as fierce as
the one that Merrick had stolen from him.
Merrick's other hand joined in to clutch Gavin's scarf and help with shoving him backward. He walked him one, two steps until they collided with a tree, and then Merrick's hands left the scarf to lie against his chest instead.
Gavin was a little taller than him, so his chin is lifted slightly as he connects their lips again. His blood is pounding, loud in his ears, his heart a punishing rhythm against his ribs. Can't think. Can't calm down.
His back hit bark with a hard thump, his heart jumping with it. He didn't
have time to think before Merrick had his lips again, and he groaned into
them. Bad idea. Bad idea, Gavin, Merrick is going to stab you in the
intestines, later, if he figures this out. If you so much as whisper a
reminder that this ever happened, he's going to stab you.
So just don't ever whisper about it.
Don't whisper about it, and maybe you can help him in the meantime.
His own heart is pounding - Merrick's hands against his ribcage, the rushed
beat drumming against his ribs so hard that it must have vibrated right
through Merrick's fingers. His body had already well reacted - his trouser
drawing painfully tight across his groin, which just made him feel
stupider. His own fingers gripped hard into leather, pulling at it until
they met fabric instead, then skin.
The press of Gavin's hardness against his thigh startled Merrick a bit, the way the snap of a twig would frighten a rabbit-- but he didn't run. Instead he twisted his body enough to reach his hand down and touch that hardness, in some weird display of exposure therapy.
He squeezed Gavin through his trousers while they kissed, his nerves still wrought tight, blood pumping, in desperate need of release.
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"Fuck," he hissed. Then louder: "Fuck!"
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"I don't think fucking a tree is going to help," He said finally, turning to Merrick. "Or killing it. Or really, anything to do with the tree, probably isn't as helpful as you'd think."
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He breathes heavily through his teeth, eyes completely wild.
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"Put the knife down, Merrick," He said, his voice more stable than he thought it would be. "If you want to fight me, do it with your hands."
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He's trying to get a grip on himself, but it's so hard. He needs Pel or Cyril to calm him down, but they're not here. They're miles from camp, and it's dark, and he's stuck out here with Gavin.
Don't open your mouth, Gavin. Don't make it worse.
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Gavin lowers his hands, letting himself breathe. Alright. Right. Okay. What would Cyril do? No, he had no idea there. Beleth?
He had a feeling he knew what Beleth would do, and it made his ears tint red.
Maybe he should just talk to him?
He stepped forward, closer.
"Come on, we're done for the night. Best just make camp, head back in the morning."
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Merrick spun back around and shoved Gavin's shoulders hard.
"This was your fault!" he snapped. "Running your mouth all the time-- And your footfalls can be heard for miles. You have no idea how to hunt!"
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As soon as it was out of his mouth, he regretted it. Doubly so when Merrick shoved him, and in order not to fall backwards his hand shot out to grab Merrick's arm to steady himself. He flushed, half embarrassed and half angry, his reddened ears flattening backwards.
"I hunt perfectly well!" Just because he wasn't as good at it as Merrick, didn't mean that he couldn't. It wasn't his fault he kept getting distracted. "I got three arrows into that last one! It's not my fault we're hunting apparent immortals. Besides, if I was by myself this would be a hundred times easier."
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"What the fuck does that mean?"
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If Merrick's eyes went cold, Gavin's blood went colder - a real fear kicking in to make his heart thump heavily.
"You -- " But he was locked into it, now, the flush spreading even darker, his ears dropping low. "Look, it's really hard to concentrate with you doing all that-- hunting-- thing." Wow. Good one, Gavin, really fucking suave. "If you could maybe try not to strike a pose every time you stop for breath --"
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"What?" was all he could say. He hadn't yet relaxed, hackles still raised, perfectly prepared to crush his fist into Gavin's strange, stupid face.
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Gavin realised, then, that he was still holding onto him - and abruptly let go, stepping back a foot.
"Look, you just - when you're hunting, you do this thing where you--" The flush only deepened, and if Gavin had felt like an idiot before, he now knew, absolutely and completely, that he was one.
"Never mind. Never mind! Go back to hitting me, or whatever you were about to do."
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He saw Gavin step back and reached forward to seize him by the front of his scarf, tugging him close again.
"You're not weaseling out of this. I do what thing?"
It would have been a very intimidating display were he not blushing to the tips of his ears.
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Gavin swallowed - suddenly very, very aware of just how close Merrick was, how flushed they both were.
"You... your whole body, you just--" God, why were Merrick's lips so close? That was definitely not fair. "... I can't stop watching you, when you hunt," he admitted, the confession coming out in a breathless, almost accusatory rush. "Okay? Is this what you wanted to hear? That as soon as you set your sights on prey I can't-- take my eyes away--"
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And he was so, so tired of the sound of Gavin's voice.
His fingers tightened around Gavin's scarf as he yanked him forward, tugging his head down for a sudden, crashing kiss. It wasn't tenuous or unsure-- it was fierce and biting, wild as he trembled from the force of his own emotions.
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It was pretty much the opposite of what Gavin expected - catching him completely by surprise, making him accidentally bite the inside of his cheek as Merrick stole his mouth. Surprise kept him from reacting for a few seconds, but when he did he shoved back - hard - panting as he caught his breath.
It was a stupid idea, really. Incredibly stupid. He knew that Merrick was just in a state, knew that he just wanted to take it out on someone and Gavin happened to be there, but it was... well. Unfairly arousing, to put it bluntly. So even though he'd literally shoved Merrick away a half heart beat before - he lunged forward to take a kiss that was almost as fierce as the one that Merrick had stolen from him.
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Gavin was a little taller than him, so his chin is lifted slightly as he connects their lips again. His blood is pounding, loud in his ears, his heart a punishing rhythm against his ribs. Can't think. Can't calm down.
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His back hit bark with a hard thump, his heart jumping with it. He didn't have time to think before Merrick had his lips again, and he groaned into them. Bad idea. Bad idea, Gavin, Merrick is going to stab you in the intestines, later, if he figures this out. If you so much as whisper a reminder that this ever happened, he's going to stab you.
So just don't ever whisper about it.
Don't whisper about it, and maybe you can help him in the meantime.
His own heart is pounding - Merrick's hands against his ribcage, the rushed beat drumming against his ribs so hard that it must have vibrated right through Merrick's fingers. His body had already well reacted - his trouser drawing painfully tight across his groin, which just made him feel stupider. His own fingers gripped hard into leather, pulling at it until they met fabric instead, then skin.
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He squeezed Gavin through his trousers while they kissed, his nerves still wrought tight, blood pumping, in desperate need of release.