It wasn’t supposed to snow this badly when they flew to the lost worlds of Patagonia. Like usual, Bear was let off above a mountain, being thrusted into the frigid winds. As the helicopter flew away Bear turned to Simon, looking at the camera and beginning to explain his situation.
“We seem to be experiencing conditions worse than what was expected,” Bear said, squinting lightly, “So first thing you wanna do in a situation like this is to find substantial shelter.”
Simon was silent as usual, though Bear could see the worry in his eyes, wondering why the producer deemed it safe to shoot the newest episode today. So the British survivalist and his cameraman set off across the mountain, looking for any sort of cave or tunnel in the snow.
No such luck.
Bear huffed lightly, feeling a mild panic tingle in his chest as he began pushing his gloves into the mounds of snow. Simon knew what he was doing, having done it before when all other options were void.
He was digging a shelter.
“Make sure the hole is twice your size. Too small and the snow will melt from your warmth, too big and frigid excess air will seep in.” Bear explained, grunting lightly as he threw the piles over his shoulder, “I’ll make mine bigger for both me and my cameraman.”
Simon hesitated, trying to assess whether they were in real danger or not. If they were… certainly Bear would comment on it. The second helicopter containing their safety manager, producer, and other cameraman hadn’t arrived yet, and something told Simon they weren’t going to. The weather had now turned for the worse and there was no way the heli would function in these deadly blizzard conditions. But Simon just trained the camera on Bear, watching him through the screen. The shelter was almost finished, Bear now panting and weakly talking to the “audience” about the risks of dehydration.
“Shit!” Simon suddenly hissed, the screen going black.
The frigid temperatures had damaged the camera. Bear didn’t even seem to notice the outburst from the usually quiet filmer.
“Come on, get in.” Bear said gently, guiding Simon into the hole.
They sat there for a moment, Bear smiling slightly as he told the now dead camera about his past experiences of the deadly cold.
“Um, Bear… It’s dea-.”
“At least this time around I didn’t use a parachute.” Bear said quickly, cutting Simon off, “Last time I fell waist deep into the snow!” He laughed.
Simon opened his mouth to repeat his comment, but Bear was quicker.
“I always seem to have bad luck with parachuting, especially when I broke my back!” He said with an innocent grin, showing his canines.
They reminded Simon of a wolf pup, which would cause harm even while being “playful”. And yes, Bear was causing harm in his playful act as Simon realized just exactly what was happening.
Bear was trying to dodge the fact that they were now in an actual life or death situation, either for his own good or for Simon’s.
Maybe a lot of both.
Bear was so protective over Simon, making sure that he was out of harm’s way, darting to help him if he stumbled or was scared. And who could forget when Bear literally saved Simon’s life?
They had been walking through a train tunnel, having no clue of the train times. Of course a loud blaring noise emitted from the tunnel when they were halfway through, filming just behind Bear. They began running back the way they came, Bear yelling for them to keep going. Simon, being the clutz he was, tripped and fell. The survivalist instantly turned around, helping him up and throwing him ahead of himself.
“Go, run!” He yelled, staying behind Simon to make sure he didn’t trail away.
They had jumped aside just in time, Bear instantly getting up and jumping onto the train to get to civilization.
“Bear…” Simon mumbled, watching him carefully.
Bear stopped his rambling for a moment, glancing at Simon wearily.
“Simon?” He asked, though his voice was shaking, his resolve crumbling before the cameraman’s very eyes.
“They’re… They’re not coming.” Simon said, “And… The camera isn’t working. It hasn’t been for the last five minutes.”
Bear fell silent, gaze dropping as he shivered lightly in their freshly dug hole.
You Blue Machine.
“... Come here, Bear.” Simon said, motioning him to close the distance between them.
Bear shook his head. No, he didn’t need comfort!
“I know what to do!” He said defensively, “I’ve done this all my life!”
“I don’t question that for a moment, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be scar-”
“I’m not scared!” Bear exclaimed, though his face said the opposite, “I’m not-!”
Simon pulled Bear in to quiet him, embracing him sternly so he wouldn’t fight. Bear’s first instinct was to push, but Simon felt so warm and his body craved higher temperatures. So Bear hugged back, feeling a sob claw its way up his throat. This felt far too sereal, the survivalist not experiencing this sort of anxiety since being in the UK Special Forces, and even then he had made good memories. Bear struggled to keep his tears at bay, knowing it would only make his face colder. He buried himself in Simon’s chest, the cameraman being taller and broader than him. Simon rubbed a soothing hand up and down his back gently, After a few moments Bear had calmed down, looking up at Simon with a new-found sense of tranquility.
“Th-Thank you, Simon… I feel much better now.” He said with a relieved sigh.
“Oh? Well I can make you feel better than this.” Simon flirted before confidently leaning in and kissing Bear.
Bear was surprised at first, though it felt rather soothing. He kissed back, glove-covered hands going to Simon’s shoulders as the cameraman’s went to caress Bear’s hips gently. The kiss lasted a while, both holding onto the other desperately in the frigid temperatures.
Simon savored every moment, finding the shorter yet more resourceful man’s submission rather arousing. The kiss was heating up as Simon pulled Bear into his lap. Bear let out a soft moan, though he finally broke the kiss, panting.
“W-We should stop, Si.” Bear said, using his nickname as he shivered lightly in his lap. “I’d love nothing more than to stay like this, but we need to find water and rescue. If we’re here any longer we’ll need food too.”
This frustrated the rather brazen cameraman, craving to feel Bear’s tan and soft skin. Simon looked Bear over, the way his face was heated up and he was biting his lower lip to fight the shivers wracking his lithe frame. Simon nodded, though his hands freely roamed Bear’s form, pressing onto him.
“We can’t do this, the cold will-!” Bear was cut off by a rougher kiss, which he fought against. He finally pulled away just enough to suck in a sharp breath. “Please, Simon, stop!” He begged, “What’s gotten into you?!”
Simon gripped Bear by the forearms, yanking him closer.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” He asked rhetorically, a sinister look in his eyes now.
Bear’s heart sank, looking up at Simon with fear. He kept trying to get out of Simon’s lap, but it was hard to fight back in such a confined space, him squirming under Simon’s hands. Everyone on the crew knew he was claustrophobic, Bear panting as he tried to claw his way out of the snow pit. But it was of no use with his gloves and Simon’s death grip on his hips. Bear yelped as he was suddenly under Simon. He instantly began kicking and yelling pleads. He had never been with a man before. But digging his heels into the snow for purchase only opened his legs enough for Simon to get between them. Bear let out a pitiful whimper as Simon ground against him, kissing him as he pleased. The survivalist felt ashamed, his body turning against him as his nether regions were stimulated.
“S-Simon, I’ve never-!” Bear let out a moan as Simon groped him, a sob following it.
Simon’s hands went to Bear’s pants, the other man frantically fumbling through his coat pocket. He cried as he pulled the sharp tactical knife on SImon.
“God, please! Please don’t make me-!”
“Make you what? Kill me?” Simon chuckled, “I’ve known you for years, and you’d never harm another person to save your life! You’re just a little teddy bear.”
Bear hesitated, realizing that he could never hurt someone he thought was a good friend.
He felt so betrayed… The knife dropped from his shaking hand.
You Grey Machine.
Simon staring yanking down their pants just enough to violate Bear completely. Bear knew he should’ve felt the unbearable sting of the frigid winds and snow, but so much adrenaline and shock had numbed his nerves. Simon tried to quiet the smaller man as he pushed into him, pressing a gloved hand against his mouth, moaning at the tight heat. Bear closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out the strange sensation as he was smothered by the offender on top of him. He gasped when his spot was hit, arching his back and sobbing as the pleasure bolted through him.
“S-Simon!” Bear gave a muffled cry, trying to claw down the man’s back as he sped up the pace.
This wasn’t supposed to feel good. And he wasn’t supposed to be so easily overthrown.
Knowing he couldn’t fight Simon off anymore, he instead tried to fight of the pleasure crawling through his veins, feeling close to completion. His face was buried in Simon’s chest, crying weakly as the hand was removed from his mouth. Just in time for him to gasp, clinging to Simon as his orgasm crashed into him. Simon groaned, holding the moaning and crying man still as he could as he filled him up. Bear’s cheeks were tracked with tears and drool, stilling as he finished. He cringed at the feeling of fluids inside of him, Simon pulling out without warning. Bear sniffled, weakly pulling up his pants while Simon steadily did the same. Simon chuckled, looking at the messy man beneath him.
“I knew you’d like it, little whore aren't yo-”
“Just-... Just don't.” Bear begged, wanting the degrading humiliation to end now.
He rolled over onto his stomach, crying weakly and pitifully into the snow. Simon watched Bear and thought for a moment before slowly climbing on top of him, kissing him behind the ear, nibbling it lightly.
“I think we could go another round, hm?”
Bear’s sobs picked up again, gagging and dry heaving a few times at the thought of going through it once more. He felt Simon’s semi hardened bulge pressing against him once more. Bear knew he couldn’t survive another hellish round of torture, feeling the first phase of hypothermia setting in, especially because of his extreme sweating and crying. Bear’s survival instincts kicked in, arm shooting out and grabbing the tactical knife. He swiftly turned, driving the weapon deep into Simon’s side. Not fatal if treated, but enough to get the man off of him. It was a fresh reminder to Simon that Bear had years of training for self defense in the special forces and for everyday incidents after the war was long over with.
He should’ve backed away, held his hands up, and left the poor broken man alone.
But Simon was stubborn.
Angered by the attack, Simon went to strike Bear across the face, but the smaller man was quicker. He drove the knife into the side of Simon’s throat, trembling with remorse as the taller man bleed out before his very eyes.
You Red Machine
Bear weakly sat up, crying and looking at the dead man lying in the crimson snow. After a few minutes he noticed the camera sitting in the corner, and to his horror, there was a blinking red dot.
It had recorded the whole event.
But the survivalist didn’t have time to really think, hearing a familiar voice calling his name. He realized that the blizzard had finally passed, able to hear the crunching of snow and ice as people approached.
“N-No, stay back!” Bear yelled, not wanting them to see the corpse of their close friend.
But his voice only caused the 3 men to run. Dave, their safety director, was the first to arrive and look down in the small pit. The crew paled and fell silent, only Bear’s soft cries being heard. Dave gently pulled the smaller man out of the pit, holding him so Bear’s chest was against his back as he tried to look him over for injuries. The other two men got to work silently pulling Simon’s body up.
“Bear, what happened? God, please tell me it was an accident.” Dave said with a plea in his voice.
He felt horrible, his one job being to keep his dear friends/crew safe. And here one was dead and the other was unresponsive.
“Th-The camera!” Bear pushed out between violent sobs, pointing an accusing finger at the device.
Mungo, pale with grief and shock, shakily retrieved the camera.
“Bear, are you hurt?” Dave asked, calmly deflecting Bears weak attempts to get out of the hold.
“Please-Please don’t-! Don’t hurt me!” Bear pleaded, having the man’s chest against his back bringing up the horrible memories from just minutes ago.
He’d lose himself if another friend attempted to raped him now, at his most vulnerable moment.
Dave slowly began to understand what was going on, his heart sinking.
“Bear, did Simon hurt you?” Dave asked gently.
Bear just nodded, his gaze not leaving the camera as it pulled from the bloody pit.
“Its-... It’s all there. He… He…” Bear trailed off, frowning as he processed what had happened.
“What? What did he do?” Dave pressed.
You Pale Machine.
“He… He had this unsuspecting coldness…“ Bear said in a far-off tone, voice suddenly drained of all panic.