Author's Note: Yes, this is a short one-shot full of smut. If you don't want to read that sort of thing, then don't. But if you do, I hope you can enjoy this sappy little piece. (There really isn't enough SuDen/DenSu out there.)

A voice reached out to him, coaxing him into some weak form of consciousness.

"Ber, are ya okay?"

Berwald woke feeling as though he were floating in murky water, the thick, liquid darkness filling his ears and muffling the spectral noise.

What the hell had happened? Where was he?

"Come on, Ber, wake up,"

Yet, his curiosity was outmatched by the desire to remain in this comfortable state of obliviousness. When the voice insistently called to him again he repeatedly tried to ignore it, and tried instead to remain willfully unconscious. Whatever it was, whatever had happened, it could wait until later. He was very tired and wanted nothing more than to sink back into a deep sleep.

The disturbances continued, however. The pursued him and continually tried to demand his attention. When, at length, he was pestered to the point of action, Berwald finally allowed himself to awake further, and at once began struggling to rise up through a thick fog of hazy confusion.

The scene to which he awoke was dark, making it somewhat more comfortable to open his eyes, though he still felt as if the world was churning sickeningly around him. After a few moment of waiting for the walls to fall still, he realized that the majority their unnatural movement was caused by an unseen fire. The hidden flames worked to illustrate well-known wooden details of the small room that enclosed them, though it was difficult to focus on them. He felt the bed beneath him shift and sway as though riding choppy waves at sea, and while this made him sick and sorry to be awake, his eyes did come to rest on something much more calming than a familiar room.

Having surfaced into a more honest state of consciousness, he was thus able to identify the source of the ceaseless noise: the familiar figure beside him. The tall Dane was kneeling beside the low bed Berwald was lying on, his wild hair taking the form a glowing mane atop the crown of his head. Mathias, like himself, was one of only a few hundred that made up the entirety of their race. The immortals. Beings created from the birth and demise of the world's nations.

Their eyes met, and the world around them stopped tilting and rocking at last, and the room fell into a final, blessed stillness.

His shapely eyes watched over him like those of a celestial guardian and at once Berwald felt himself soothed and comforted. Like sacred blue flames that flickered in the distant firelight, they were unmatched in their fierce magnificence. Men would kill each other over jewels that weren't half as beautiful as Mathias' eyes.

"Mat?"

His voice was hardly more than a hoarse whisper; his throat ached and his eyes burned, but he saw the Dane's head tip forward with a shaky sigh of relief. Mathias pressed his surprisingly warm forehead to Berwald's shoulder and stayed there for a moment.

While they were silent, Berwald attempted to throw off the deadening shroud of unconsciousness more fully, awaking his other senses to his surroundings. The musky aroma of the aged fire was mixing with the scent of rain-wetted wood, which was blending above the unsettling smell of clothes heavily soaked with salt water. Still, he eagerly drank in each breath, ignoring the rawness of the tender flesh that lined his throat. And above the golden threads of Mathias' hair, he watched the shadows shift and dance against the walls and dark roof, performing ritual to the rhythm of the fire's crackle.

He shifted his gaze down to the bed, realizing that there were many fur blankets laid over him, but he then discovered that beneath the layers of various pelts and cloths, his body was cold.

Wretchedly cold.

"You scared the shit out of me," Mathias suddenly whispered with a forced laugh, lifting his head to look at him.

Berwald's ears easily caught the tremble in his voice; however, he couldn't remember what he had done to upset his Dane.

Almost nothing came when his memory called, except eerily clear images of black water and white lightening. There had been a storm, he was certain of that much, but he couldn't recall anything beyond that. All he really knew now was that he was bitterly and unnaturally cold.

"Mat," he swallowed, feeling as though he had just downed a cup full of nails. "Come here,"

At his own words, Berwald's body shuttered hard as a violent chill poured down his spine. His teeth clacked together painfully and his hair prickled up and stood on end in a desperate attempt to cling to heat that had already been lost. Born and raised in the frozen north and even he had never been this painfully cold.

Mathias immediately vanished from his vision in an instant, almost as if he had never been there at all. A shadow of a giant moving across the far wall quickly gave his presence away again, however, before dark thoughts of delusion could come any nearer. Berwald listened as his companion ran around to the other side of the wide bed, tempted to smile at his natural noisiness. There was the obvious pounding of his solid steps, two distinct thumps as he kicked his heavy boots off, and then Berwald felt the blankets shift and the bed dip as the other man climbed in next to him.

He turned his head, wincing in pain at the stiffness of his neck, and watched the Dane sit up in order to pull off his shirt. He tossed it away, leaving it to be forgotten on the floor, and after this was accomplished Mathias turned to look at him.

Berwald felt his flesh warm at that sight alone.

Mathias' pale skin reflected the firelight with impossible elegancy. In those moments he appeared to Berwald as the true spirit of a nation, one which had been torn free and bared forth for the eyes of morals to see in human form. The violent nature of the light that was cast upon him helped to emphasize the intense, artistic contrasts and curves of his merited build, and it laid the divine spark of life into those wild eyes. A light which crystallized and was then stripped down to its purest form. A finishing touch, as it were.

Mathis would have punched him in the face if he could have heard even a single line of Berwald's thoughts. Too poetic a way for one to view their comrade-in-arms, perhaps. But Berwald wasn't permitted the luxury of only knowing Mathias as an ally on the battlefield, and most whom they fought beside didn't have to bear the burden of knowing what the other looked like when they climaxed in the throes of ecstasy.

In a smooth motion, Mathias grasped the fur blankets where they collected at his waist, and pulled them up over their bodies as he lied down beside him. All at once, he could feel the intense heat emanating from the Dane's bare chest. It poured over his chilled limbs in a welcomed flood, and as two strong arms wound around him, he attempted to press into that pleasing heat even further.

"I'm here," Mathias told him in whisper that brushed against his neck softly, a rare but pleasant delicacy from the normally boisterous man.

Berwald allowed himself to be held, sacrificing his cold pride much too readily for the Dane's sultry affections. It wasn't often that Berwald indulged in snuggling so shamelessly into his lover's chest, but the temptation of that warm, fragrant skin was more than he could resist while in the clutches of this miserable cold.

"Oh, now you're cuddly," his Dane scoffed teasingly, pressing an amorous kiss against his forehead.

He just huffed in response, too tired to retort just yet. He let his eyes fall closed again, listening to the rhythm of Mathias' steady heartbeat and relishing in the feeling of heat slowly creeping back into his flesh.

They rested together silently for a time, listening to the sound of the winter's wind beyond the window and the contented crackling of the fire against the wall. In all honesty, Berwald liked that Mathias could be quiet with him sometimes. It didn't seem he cold to do it with anyone else. The Swede's eventually reopened his eyes, however, and when his dreams refused to take him back his curiosity finally got the better of him.

"What happened?"

The Dane lifted his head from where it was resting beside him on the thick pillow, immediately alert to his words. Berwald wouldn't have been surprised if he hadn't slept since this had happened. Touched by that possibility, Berwald turned his head to nuzzle him with his nose before they pulled back a bit to look at each other.

Those bright eyes appeared distant and troubled. Seriousness was such a sobering expression to see on his handsome and normally bright face.

"You…drowned, Ber. We had to pull you out."

Drowned.

He held his lover's eyes, remembering the storm again as clearer memories were slowly dragged forth.

Berwald had never seen anything like it. He must have been out on the water when it hit. Fishing, perhaps. He could now half-remember the impossibly high waves and the thunderous cracking in the corrupted skies that illuminated a hellishly dark sea. The water had been bitterly cold and so unbearably heavy. With a small jolt of terror, a flash of a short memory showed him that he had been seized then dragged downward, sinking far beneath the surging waves. Even his strong legs were no match for the power of an angry sea, and he recalled being forcefully torn from the cries of the others, which were then lost above to the thrashing of the wind and rain.

"A storm?" he asked slowly; his throat still pained him, but he didn't like to use more words if he could get away with less anyway.

And besides, Mathias always understood.

"Yeah." his grip around him tightened. "I didn't see you fall in, someone else did."

He closed his eyes for another minute, simply breathing.

Perhaps he had drowned. It wouldn't have been the first time.

Mathias had been there last time, too.

Though nothing more than a child, he had somehow managed to drag Berwald's lifeless body out from the clutches of the white-crested waters of the North Sea. Berwald's heart didn't beat then, his lungs didn't draw in air, but Mathias carried him home anyway, and when he awoke again in the morning, the Dane had stayed to protect him from all of the terrified people that had seen a young boy die and come back to life the next day.

Now, Berwald had been swallowed whole by the jaws of death itself yet again; his soul caught and trapped in Rán's net, a watery grave. And yet, somehow, the thread of his life had not been allowed to truthfully sever. His spirit had been freed, and he had been thus drawn back to life with the rising of the sun.

Mathias was like him in that way.

Some people called them immortals, but he and his lover both knew their kind did not truly hold the secret to eternal life.

They could die. They could disappear.

Their lives were only as secure as the fates of those among whom they were born. Their death certificates had to be written and signed first.

Berwald sighed and shifted a bit, shaking off these heavy thoughts. He was feeling stiff and sore, but he was alive.

Mathias pulled him closer, holding him more firmly to his chest, and that helped. He reached up and began to run his long fingers through his hair, and that helped more. However, as he relaxed against him, he became aware that Mathias was now swallowing harder and breathing unevenly.

"Mat?"

He didn't answer, and after a moment Berwald pulled back again to look at him.

Those large, bright eyes were filled to the brim with tears, and his lip trembled as he tried intrepidly to hold them back.

"Mat, it's okay. I'm here," he muttered and when the Dane bowed his head in a weak sign of surrender, they embraced more fully.

"Don't you ever-" a weak sob escaped his chest, and he began desperately pressing kisses against Berwald's shoulder, strong fingers curling around the back of his neck and bicep, gripping him tightly. "I'm never letting you on another boat ever again,"

Berwald found himself smiling softly at his lover, and brought his hands up to hold Mathias' face.

"Or out during a storm," he kept rambling as his composure dissolved completely and sobs began to wrack his body. "Or even near the fucking water,"

"Shh," he hushed him gently, forcing him to lift his head so that they were looking at each other once more. "I'm here now,"

Even as he surrendered his strength and fell apart in his arms, Berwald thought, his lover still looked absolutely beautiful.

The clear, pure blue of his eyes was augmented by the glimmering tears as they pooled together before their weight doomed them. The heavy tears then fell free, creating silver rivulets against his gold-painted skin. Nearly overwhelmed by his innate elegance, Berwald coaxed his lover to him and brushed away the star-like droplets from his soft cheeks before kissing them reverently.

Perfect, even like this.

Immediately Danish hands reached up to pull his head down forcefully, capturing him in his entirety with those sinuous and yielding lips. If he truly had been dead previously, the long slow kisses they then shared reawakened even the deepest parts of his soul. So effortlessly did his Mathias bring him back.

The Swedish incarnate lived again, and though he knew the true reason for his revival, in those moments, Berwald felt he only consented to return to the world of the living so that he could be reunited with his Danish love.

"I'm serious," he insisted once the many kisses had comforted him enough to sojourn any fresh tears.

"Hm?" Berwald hummed, still lost in his own thoughts.

Mathias looked like he wanted to frown and smile at him at the same time. The latter won him over, as it always did, and a smirk spread across his expressive face.

"I might just have to tie you up to this bed," he teased him quietly, rolling a bit so he was lying on his chest rather than embracing him, his warm thigh coming to rest between Berwald's legs. "To keep you out of trouble."

Any remaining wetness around his eyes was now completely forgotten as they kissed again. His Mathias was like that; fluid in his emotions, and any lingering discomfort was thus rendered insignificant as the mood began to shift in an entirely different direction.

Berwald reached up and pulled Mathias close to him again, feeling his heart awaken and his blood quicken in his veins.

"Oh?" he muttered against his lips. "Is that right?"

"Yeah," he answered him easily, shifting atop his body temptingly as those mischievous eyes fell half-lidded. "That's right."

He smiled beneath his Dane, enjoying his touch and his vivacity as their intimate dance begun.

Mathias straddled his hips more firmly and sat up, pulling the thick layers back and letting them slide off his shoulders. He basked himself in the firelight while Berwald admired him from below. All of his movements were smooth, practiced, and incredibly thrilling. He reached down and ran the tips of his fingers from Berwald's jaw and neck, down across his chest and shoulders; a motion that would have been uninteresting if it had been anyone other than Mathias touching him. His skin awoke strongly at the delicate touches and trembled, causing much more pleasant shivers to pour down his body.

Mathias left him only for the time it took to strip himself of his pants and then he was on him again. That primordial heat immersed him in intimate, consuming waves. Berwald's body had awoken fully now and any final cold patches in his flesh were of little concern to him any longer.

They began to grip each other more roughly, knowing that they both grounded themselves best in pain. Their kisses began to bruise the malleable flesh of their lips, and when that still wasn't enough, Mathias bit him. A small, encouraging thrust from the Swede's hips prompted him on, and the Dane quickly left his mouth in favor of sinking his hard, glossy teeth into the tender meat of his shoulders and neck.

Berwald allowed his head to fall back and his lips to part in a silent cry. The sharp, hot burst of pain shot through him like bolts of wild electricity, his veins left burning in their wake. His blood was warming more honestly now, and his flesh was growing hot where it met Mathias'.

A strategically placed bite near the hollow of his throat had him suddenly arching his spine until he nearly lifted them off of the bed. His Dane hummed in smug satisfaction, soothing the sensitive skin with his tongue before he pulled back to look at him once more.

Those clever eyes sparkled tantalizingly above a small, knowing smirk. He licked his lips luridly before he changed his position and settled himself down between Swedish legs that automatically parted for him.

The Swede's heart pounded in his chest, already roused and eager for his lover's touch. His Mathias got him riled up so easily; no force on earth had power over Berwald the way the man above him did, and Mathias knew this well.

Berwald saw Mathias pause to look at him, waiting until they made eye contact before acting again.

Making sure he was paying attention, perhaps.

He definitely was.

Their eyes locked and held, and that large, warm hand wrapped itself firmly around his manhood. Berwald tried to hold his head from falling back against the pillow in relief, but his muscles began sporadically spasming with pleasure as that strong hand gripped him and began to stroke him in a slow, practiced rhythm.

His head did eventually tip backwards as his twitching muscles forced him to attempt to try and thrust up into that delicious friction. His lover simply knew too well how to work him; he was powerless to resist.

As soon as their eyes broke contact, however, Mathias stilled his hand.

Berwald unintentionally let out a low whine from somewhere deep in his chest, displeased with the disruption. Yet, just as he willed himself to lift his head once more, he witnessed the Dane's golden-haired crown tip forward, and then felt his sensuous lips part to take him in.

He cussed quietly, his body tensing on a shuttering breath, and then he groaned again softly.

Mathias' mouth was familiar to him, but was ever so sinfully enticing. It was slick and sultry, and seemed to know exactly what he liked. The Dane's firm tongue ran the length of his member slowly, extracting pleasure from him hungrily. The insides of his mouth were wet and velvety, and yielded willingly to the rigid shape of his sex as his lover's mouth swallowed him repeatedly.

Though his Dane was extremely adept at such performances, this type of exchange did not occur between them often. Berwald was aware that he was being given a gift; though it had not been within his control, Mathias was thanking him for surviving. For coming back to him, so that they could be together once more.

Berwald decided honestly, if not humorously, that a blowjob from his experienced lover was undoubtedly worth the trouble.

Mathias transitioned between sucking and licking on his stiffened member as the hand around the base of his cock began to move as well. He pumped his fist slowly, using steady strokes that contrasted the intense attention from his mouth. Berwald gripped the blankets and the side of the bed, restraining himself so that he would not reach out grab Mathias' hair. He wanted to grip those wild locks and force him to take his cock faster and deeper, but that was not usually received well, and he certainly did not want this delectation to end prematurely.

His other hand slowly moved from where it had rested on Berwald's hip, slipping down to his inner thigh almost absently. Mathias trailed his fingertips along the sensitive skin there, rubbing and caressing the tender places of his thighs and scrotum. The Dane knew his body too well for him to last very long; shamefully, the sinful pleasure was bringing him to the edge, already.

He shut his eyes tightly, pressing his head back farther into the pillow as he felt sharper jolts of pleasure rocking his body. Blessed relief drew nearer, his entire body aching to release the liquefied fire that Mathias had so quickly poured into his veins.

And then, nothing.

Berwald groaned again. Louder this time, and far more frustrated.

He lifted his head up to look at Mathias, and his irritation immediately melted back into an overwhelming sense of desire when he saw that the Dane had left him to fetch a lubricant. Though actual intercourse between them was still a bit more frequent than oral sex, Berwald shifted eagerly on the bed. As skillful as Mathias was with his mouth, nothing compared to how impossibly pleasurable it felt to sink himself fully into his Dane's hot, lithe body.

Mathias returned with the oil he had found, and didn't hesitate before he began preparing himself in full view of his Swedish lover. Berwald looked his fill, unable to resist stroking himself as he took in a scene that was both vulgar and extremely exciting. He watched Mathias' tender flesh stretch around his slick fingers and felt saliva pooling in his mouth with his own unbridled desires.

If a blowjob from his Danish lover was worth coming back to life, then sex with him was definitely worth bearing the curse of immortality.

When he removed his fingers, he did not immediately set the oil aside. Instead, Mathias' feral eyes pinned him down, and he coated his hand in the light, glistening substance. Berwald released his aching member, feeling it throb hotly in anticipation.

Mathias didn't keep him waiting long, and grasped him again, spreading the slippery lubrication from the base to the tip with long, sensuous strokes.

Though he tried to hold back, Berwald grunted with a heavy breath, his hips thrusting helplessly into the offered hand. His excitement was peaking, shooting through his entire body and making him want to stretch and flex and cry out if only to relieve it.

"Ready?" Mathias asked him huskily as the fire cracked loudly behind them, his hand keeping it's rhythm until the last possible moments.

Berwald nodded eagerly, not trusting his voice to answer.

Yes, gods, please, yes...!

Mathias set the oil on the floor where they would be unlikely to knock it over at some point in the night, then climbed up and settled his legs closely on either side of his hips once more.

Berwald was nearly panting to keep up with the pace of his pounding heart, and Mathias simpered slyly at him. He looked as though he wanted to continue teasing him, but he knew his Dane would be too impatient to torture him anymore tonight.

Those warm fingers reached behind him as he rose to his knees, his long thighs flexing as he lifted himself up. He grasped the Swede's hardened cock and, without further preamble, guided him inside his lissome body as their eyes locked.

Mathias had never been one to enjoy sex slowly, and took all of him in a single, smooth motion. The pleasure was so intense that, for a moment, Berwald was blinded completely. His lover's body squeezed him rapturously, the oily lubricant facilitating and enhancing their contact.

Ah, fuck!

The inside of Mathias' body was oppressively warm and sinfully soft, and created a feeling of a close connectedness between them.

The Dane pushed himself up on his knees once more, and then pressed back down on him again, moaning out his pleasure loudly and without shame. He lover was already far too caught up in the heat of their intimate moment to be concerned with the world outside and if Berwald had wanted to worry about any external issues, they were forgotten now.

Mathias began to ride him faster and more forcefully, and all other thoughts were immediately obliterated by the sharp intensity of the pleasure. They made love passionately, their heat melting their souls and bonding them together where their bodies met in sinful ecstasy.

However, his thoughtless bliss was broken unexpectedly when a sudden, colorless flash of icy waves and yowling wind shot across Berwald's immediate mind, and he gasped on a hard shutter.

The sickening sensation of suffocation washed over him again, freezing his heart in his chest. He was enveloped by the darkness, falling far below. Torn away from the distorted skies and the shouts of those who had been spared the wrath of the deadly sea.

He was drowning.

Sinking, dragged down to be slain while floating weightless in the darkness of the void.

He was dying there on the bottom of the desolate sea floor, and so would be cursed to die again each day with the rising of a new sun. No chance of escape. No hope of rescue.

Not that far down.

A lonely death...

At length, he was able to regain his mind enough to force himself to reopen his eyes, though he hadn't even realized that he'd shut them.

Berwald wanted to call for help then, to cry for deliverance from the hellish visions of drowning that plagued him now, but as soon as he again laid his eyes upon Mathias, he instantly felt his fears melt and recede.

The firelight shone behind the Dane, outlining his flesh and hair in gold, and Berwald's chilled, frightened heart stirred in awe once more.

He knew then that his lover's fire would always be enough to rescue him. The eternal blazing of the Mathias' soul was constantly fighting back the black water signifying his doom; a watery fate that was ceaselessly prowling the edges of his existence, awaiting him. Mathias alone stood brazenly between the beast of death and its desired prey.

Looking upon his radiant guardian now, he watched in wonderment as the Dane tossed his head and arched his back, his muscular chest heaving with his cries and heavy breath, his skin shining like polished stone from beneath a thin sheen of sweat. Feeling almost as though he were witnessing Mathias for the very first time, he became highly aware of the incredible fervency that poured from him through his every, impassioned action. The warmth of their lovemaking was spreading through Berwald's body relentlessly; the amorous pleasure helping to push back memories of the pain and the cold.

His Danish love was his valiant savior, and in return for his constant protection and safeguard, Berwald gave to Mathias his undying devotion. He presented his affections in their entirety to the one above him, and they were received immediately with an exacting, vehement kiss that sealed the pact between them like a binding contract. It was in that moment that Berwald found he had thus subjected his heart to the love of a man whose passions could create and consume in a manner akin to that of the gods themselves. A creature, of both malice and virtue, that had been spawned by the primal nature of beasts and the acculturated intricacy of man in unity. And it was in these sanctified moments of their private ritual that Berwald alone was allowed to reap the rewards earned from the fervent worship of such an enthralling deity. Rewards that encompassed even more than the protection of his sanity and soul.

His Dane lowered himself down so that their lips could meet easily and their bodies were pressed together all the way down to their tangled legs. In this position their speed was reduced, but the simple yet matchless pleasure that was drawn from feeling his lover's body pressed flush against his was far more desirable to him now. Their bodies rocked and rubbed together slowly, each immersing thrust and each torturous withdrawal experienced out to their fullest extent. The potent sensations obliterated his dark thoughts and fears, clearing his mind once more of everything, except for the one with whom he was now intertwined.

He forced his eyes open repeatedly, wishing to witness his lover in such a glorious form. He watched for a moment before he became aware of something.

The balance of the entire universe was suspended between them in those close moments. The most crippling, sickening, terrifying sadness was balanced against the sheerest joy and greatest relief. The hatred spawned from the pain of heartbreak was now at perfect odds with the overwhelming love that blossomed within a tender cradle of the utmost devotion. Even the tomblike cold of the surrounding darkness was contrasting with the heat and light from the vivacious fire; a perfect metaphor depicting their own graceful poise.

He saw then that his lover was his own balance, his sacred opposite. The anterior fire in Mathias battled Berwald's frozen surface, and beneath, when they found themselves reversed, it was his gentle, persisting heat that alone could melt the Dane's secret, inner cold.

Overwhelmed by the forces that were working through them, one of Berwald's hands grasped his provocative Dane at the hip while the other came up to hold the back of his head.

My love, please…

Keenly aware of what he desired, Mathias pushed himself up once more, arching his long, divine back in order to press their hips together more firmly. His lover braced his arms against his chest, and both of Berwald's hands fell to hold him tightly at the waist. Their eyes met for a pivotal moment before the passion swelling within his chest became too much to restrain, and he unleashed his desires upon his Dane's capable body at long last.

Mathias cried out impulsively, visibly captivated by the ardent motions of the one below him, unknowingly stoking the fire in his veins even further. He tossed his head back as the Swede's thrusts lost their steady rhythm, and Berwald thus fucked him with a maddening fervor that was nearly violent in its intensity. He delayed as long as he could before he pulled his lover back down to his chest, letting their mouths meet sloppily as their tongues and lips attempted to mate of their own accord. The heat that was now engulfing them banished from his mind the possibility of reliving his memories of the icy water and wind, freeing him to make love to his Dane without restraint or inhibition.

Their frenzy began to reach its height, the peak tearing itself between feelings of agony and ecstasy. Mathias' cerulean eyes were glazed over with pleasure and longing, and he held Berwald's gaze so shamelessly that the Swede feared he would lose his grip on his sanity yet.

For what man, incarnate or mortal, could deny madness in the wake of such an intensely overwhelming hunger?

He desperately desired what only his lover could give him, and as he brought one of his hands down in order to grasp Mathias' straining, neglected cock, he knew that he was not alone in his need.

Berwald stroked him off eagerly, groaning under a heaving breath when he felt Mathias' yielding, silken insides tighten around his aching member even further. His Dane was speaking close to his skin, perhaps begging for release, perhaps confessing his love, but Berwald was too far gone to make sense of his words now.

As the final moments neared, their lips found each other once more and pressed together feverishly. The hot, slick muscles harbored between their joined mouths making their own frantic love once more in the finishing seconds of their union. Berwald reached out and grasped tightly to his Dane, fearing that if he were to let go, his rational mind might be swept away, lost in a heated rush of ineffable pleasure. Mathias gripped him back in response, but as the ultimate crescendo finally began to wash over them both, their mouths were torn apart from one another.

Berwald's laboring muscles forced themselves against his lover at an unholy pace, striving madly to release the unbearable, consuming heat that was trapped within his body. His Dane threw his head back in ecstasy and forced his body roughly downward to meet Swedish hips one last, blessed time.

The force alone drove him impossibly deep within his lover, thus allowing him to be embraced by his innermost, velvety flesh, but then the Danish cock in his hands then flexed impressively, causing the strong muscles around Berwald's rigid member to tighten passionately.

It was more than enough to force his ultimate surrender, and Berwald's breath was stolen from his lungs as he was finally allowed to finish. A brilliant, blinding surge of pleasure washed over his body as his hips flexed once more and he felt himself pulsing powerfully while deep inside his lover. Mathias' body trembled above him as intense spasms splattered the hot, white spurts of his lover's release blatantly across his stomach and chest.

They slowly fell still, breathing heavily as tiny, occasional aftershocks still caused their muscles to shudder.

Once they had caught their breath, they pulled apart from each other, and Mathias weakly grabbed a nearby cloth to clean them up with. Berwald kicked the furs and blankets farther away from him and rested back against the bed with tired, lulling breaths. The room was now far too hot and the cold darkness beyond the door began to appear rather inviting.

His lover quickly mopped up the mess they had made before he tossed the soiled cloth away to be dealt with later. Then, he bent over the Swede's chest, and let their lips press together in a slow, intimate kiss.

The kiss held as the Swede's exhausted body slumped down so that he was lying once more on his back, the fire hidden beyond the edge of the bed. When they parted, Mathias sat close beside him, looking down on him.

"I love you," he told him, his sweet breath brushing over Berwald's flushed cheeks.

Mathias' body still shone in the firelight, those beautiful eyes looking glazed and contented, descending slowly from the heights of the purest ecstasy as he stared at him with unabashed affection.

Yeah, Berwald was in love alright.

"Love ya too." He muttered quietly as the exhaustion began to pull him back towards unconsciousness.

Deliciously spent, his mind and body now felt impossibly calm. No more thoughts of death plagued him, nor did he irrationally fear the frigid waters of the sea any longer. Mathias always seemed to know exactly what he needed, and was always more than willing to give it to him.

As his eyes finally fell closed, he thought he might have heard his Dane whisper something more, but sleep awaited him, and he was unable to resist its call any longer.

He was safe now; for he knew his fiercely protective and radiant lover would watch over him until the morning.

Just as he always had.

Mathias watched his Swede's eyes fall comfortably shut, his pale flesh having finally regained its slight color. His cheeks were flushed with a soft, rosy blush that made his skin look like it was simply begging for the Dane to lavish it with more kisses.

He held back, however, and instead opted to watch his lover sink down into a proper sleep.

Mathias' body was hot, but as he looked upon the Swede's sharp features, he felt a cool, ghostly veil wrapping itself around the burning heart within his chest.

The Dane was certain he would have burned himself up long ago if it had not been for the frigid tranquility of his lover. Berwald's composure neared complete detachment at times, but his icy aloofness was somehow always enough to douse Mathias' all-consuming fire. His lover's chill soothed and calmed him, separating him from the chaos that his own blazing passions wrought. The Swede sheltered him from the heat inside himself, providing a serene sanctuary for the Dane to fall still and quiet within.

No one else could do anything that to him, and he certainly couldn't do it himself.

He had dragged the body of an immortal friend from the dark depths of the sea once before, and not even the painfully frigid waters of the North Sea had damped the fire in his veins then. He was always full of too much momentum. Too much wild and uncontrollable energy. It was only when his Swede awoke and called his name that the burning fear and anger trapped within his body were finally quenched.

The fire against the far wall was beginning to lull itself down to drowsy embers, and he looked up and blinked at them with equally sleepy eyes. The night still held control over the land beyond the dark window, and the winter's cold assault slowly began penetrate their small room once again. As his heated skin was delicately kissed by the night's air, he looked back down at his sleeping companion and smiled softly.

No matter how many times the sea would try to swallow his lover, no matter how many times Mathias nearly lost his sanity to his own destructive heat, no matter how many awful words and wars came between them, they both knew they truly needed each other. They would always come back together, somehow. And in spite of all the kings, countries, and chaos that would divide them in the years to come, they would need each other no less.

At the end of the day, hate and love were one in the same for them, and that was why they would always be the ones to save each other; to uphold the precarious balance between them.

Mathias yawned widely, grasping the thick furs and blankets and tossing them over their cooling bodies before their flesh could grow too cold. He then kissed Berwald's forehead tenderly as he lied down beside his lover.

"I'm never letting you go, Ber." He whispered close to his skin as the fire died out and the room fell dark. "That's a promise."