He heard a few muffled sounds beside him — low groans, weak breaths, and the faint rustle of movement. The unconscious man was sweating but also shivering, which was a very confusing combination.
"Are you hot or cold? Pick one!" he muttered, frowning. He glanced at the dying fire, then at the shivering man, and sighed dramatically. "Fine. I'm not doing this because I want to. It's for survival. Warmth. Science."
He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around the man again. "Just so we're clear," he mumbled, nestling in, "I'm the big spoon. It's a dominance thing."
He expected the man to smell like death and regret, but to his surprise, he actually smelled… Nice? Woodsy. Clean. Comforting.
And somehow, between his exhaustion, the warmth, and the faint rhythm of another heartbeat, he drifted off to sleep.
When he woke up, he immediately knew something was wrong.
