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Everything’s calm and quiet while they are lying in Miller’s bed. It’s snowing outside and Miller is probably thinking about feeding the dogs and cleaning the snow around his car. He doesn’t want to risk being stuck without a car, not in Alaska.
But then there is David, he came here with his sledge, he doesn’t use his car that often and it’s probably even broken, but he’s too shy to ask his mentor such trivial things. David’s legs are tangled between the thick blankets and his legs, the warmth he feels when the boy brushes his feet against his make him feel like he’s not a old man anymore. They don’t talk that much in these moments, after David’s personal training, they just lie there sometimes brushing each other’s body with a kind of intimacy that’s enough to almost make him blush at the thought.
“Are you hungry?” His voice startles David, who quickly sits up, looking at him like a pup would look at his master. The boy’s hair is all ruffled up in a ridiculous shape and a drop of sweat is running down his neck. He swallows slowly, trying to not think how deep that drop traveled, sliding under David’s collar, below the boy’s chest.
“No, I’m fine… maybe I’ll steal something from your fridge later.” David chuckles, moving closer to him.
“Just don’t touch the booze.” He says smirking at him. And David’s reaction it’s just to look away embarrassed. They both know how bad is David at handling alcohol. He needs to work up more weight, both in muscles and in fat, to handle it better, but that’s a not something to worry about now. Surely in the future, with FOXHOUND training he would outdrink Master Miller hard enough to leave him rolling in a stupor, but right now for him that had to be enough.
“I promise.” Replies David, a faint flush still running on his pale cheeks, enough to make his head spin, worse than booze and weed ever did.
Before David can go back lying on the bed he pulls him closer, awkwardly crashing the boy against him. David’s genuine laugh is like a gunshot, and now he can’t stop himself from pressing his lips against the boy’s neck, listening to David’s heartbeat, feeling the taste of his sweat.
He buries his face into him like he would do with a warm and comfortable pillow. David laughs again, now he’s complaining about the beard, he knows it’s itchy but he doesn’t have the time to get clean-shaved.
Never found the time after 1984.