raichuss:

He whispers sweet nothings against his skin, his touch soft and gentle as skin meets skin, heat radiating from both their bodies.

The tent is cramped, there’s no doubt about it, and the night air is icy, but is easily ignored as the kissing becomes deeper, and the touching becomes more frantic.

They need eachother, and they need this. The thought crosses both their minds that this may be their last night together, but neither one of them speak the words, the night air silent save from the muffled moans and rustling of blankets. Nothing matters anymore.