Who: Hans and Anna When: After these text messages Where: Hans’ place What: Post-gunshot conversations and intimacy Rating/Warnings: Medium, some swearing, ftb on sexy funtimes (sorry, Caroline, if you're listening.) Status: Complete
Anna told Elsa that she was going over to Hans’ place. She was in such a rush, though, she didn’t have a chance to give her sister much explanation. She’d tossed a couple of things into an oversized purse, and rushed out the door. The Arendelle house had a long driveway, and was fairly far away from the next house over, in a fairly private neighborhood. Anna felt safe walking to her car. Climbing in. Then drove quickly to Hans’ place. Thankfully, there weren’t many stops, and none that would be likely for a carjacking or something.
She’d said it would take fifteen minutes, but it took her about twelve. Then she was knocking on his front door.
The sheer amount of guilt Hans felt was like a five-hundred pound fat man sitting on his chest after consuming a jolly Christmas dinner - the weight of it being unbearable, and yet he knew he didn’t have a lot to feel guilty about. Right? He’d told Anna about the unfortunate shooting incident and...alright, maybe over text wasn’t the best way. But he just wasn’t sure how to do it, as the news wasn’t anything he’d consider good. If anything, it just reinforced that things were just getting really bad out there in terms of this mysterious crime wave.
He went to the door, knowing it was her, opening it - and he immediately pulled her into his arms because, like it or not, Hans needed the comfort too. But he managed to kick the door shut behind her when she was in his condo. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, though he wasn’t sure what for. Scaring her? It was said quietly, since Caroline was likely asleep in the other room and he didn’t want to disturb her.
It wasn’t like hugging was a rare thing--Anna was a hugger, and she seemed to have turned Hans into one whether he liked it or not. But this hug felt different than other hugs. Like he needed it as much as she did. Maybe more. Probably more. Anna stepped, nearly stumbled, forward into the condo and wrapped her arms tightly around his middle. Her bag slipped down on her arm and settled with the strap in the crook of her elbow. She pressed her face into his chest.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” she said, softly, straight into his shirt. It wasn’t his fault. She was just so thankful he was there, alive, warm and strong against her face, chest and arms. God, he felt good. She had no idea what she would have done if he’d-- The thought made her tighten her arms around him.
Hans kissed the top of her head, nuzzling there. His hands stroked down Anna’s back and if she thought he felt good, to him she felt even better - but standing near the front door wouldn’t be the best thing, so he pulled back enough just to take her hand and usher her on into his bedroom, shutting them in with a quiet click of the door into place. Now that she had her new bed, his was no longer the larger one - they were about the same size - but he knew Anna liked his for some reason, and he liked it best when the pillow she slept on smelled like her even when she wasn’t there. So he sat on the edge, pulling her closer.
“Regina came by and dropped off food if you’re hungry,” he said, and while he didn’t think he could eat now it was still amusing to him that the woman insisted on being all Mother Hen after he was shot. “I...you’ll stay over, right?”
Anna followed as she was led. She lifted her bag to drape over her shoulder again, but then dropped it on the floor once they were inside his room with the door closed. “I’m not hungry,” she said softly, “but I’m sure I will be in the morning.” That should answer his question. She moved closer to him, still standing even though he sat, nudging her hips between his legs so they could be as close as possible. She lifted her hands to trail her fingers through his hair.
Though she knew she was supposed to say something--ask how he was feeling, get him talking about what happened, make sure he was really okay--she just couldn’t figure out the right words. Each time she tried forming them in her mind, they came up flat. So she brought her lips to his forehead and kissed him there. She was sure he could figure out something to say, if he wanted to talk.
Hans let out a long, shuddering sigh as his head came forward and rested on Anna, somewhere in the vicinity of her heartbeat. The fingers in his hair brought about a calming sort of reaction in him, like taming a wild animal about to snap. He tried to process everything but there’d been a lot to deal with tonight and eventually he just gave up at dealing with it all; it would happen eventually.
His hands traveled down the sides of Anna’s waist, back up, a motion that calmed him too because it meant she was really here - then took to applying soft pressure at the back of her thigh to encourage her onto his lap, her knees on either side of his hips. “Kind of wish we could just take a vacation - a really long one,” he said, though he knew it wouldn’t be practical.
It didn’t take much encouraging to get Anna to climb into Hans’ lap. She moved carefully, trying her best not to fall--since her balance wasn’t the best to begin with, right?--and settled down against him. It was nice to cuddle. Nice to have his body against hers, the warmth, the strength. It felt real.
Anna turned her face down to bury her nose into his neck. She spoke against his skin with her fingers returning to his hair. “How long? I think the fencing school might fall apart without us there.” Matilda would likely be drunk every day--not just Friday--trying to deal with all of those kids running around, and Kate would be screaming at everyone from behind the desk in the lobby.
“For a weekend, at least? We’ll have to do something for Valentine’s Day anyway,” Hans pointed out. Maybe focusing on something pleasant coming up would help him not want to suddenly become an alcoholic. His grip shifted to her hips and he flipped them, sliding up over her on the bed - predator on the hunt, clearly.
Anna looked so pretty like that, ginger hair all splayed out the way it was, and he balanced his weight on his arms when he ducked his head and kissed her - on her mouth and down her throat, pausing to latch onto her pulse which tasted sweeter for some reason. “I don’t know...if it had been you, I don’t know.” His words were a mumble, and he really didn’t</>i> know - all he knew was that he needed closeness.
“Oh, yeah. Valentine’s Day.” Was all Anna managed to muse before Hans flipped her over and she flopped down against his pillows. She looked with loving eyes up into his for a moment before the kissing. Ah, kissing Hans. It nearly made her whimper when he moved down her neck, one of her hands tangling in his hair again. For some reason, this Ginger couldn’t get enough of that Ginger’s hair tonight.
His mumbled words drew her sharply back to reality. The reality was he could have died tonight. “I don’t know, either.” She whispered. Her arms tightened around him and she scrunched her eyes closed. She felt like if he’d died tonight, she would have died with him. And been a walking corpse for the rest of her ‘life.’ Ugh. Not a happy thought.
Hans couldn’t lose her either - for him, it didn’t matter so much. He was shot, the pain exploded, he nearly died, but that was all. In trying to understand what it must feel like for Anna, he’d had to imagine what it’d be like for him if she was the one hurt - and he had to admit, he’d be going absolutely apeshit were the situations reversed. A bullet in the chest was not something an act of True Love could fix.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, burying his face against the side of her neck. “...I just. I need you.” In many ways. Some of the right now variety, others more long-term.
The fact that Anna hadn’t even heard about it until after he was healed up (due to no fault of his own) made her feel like she’d just gone loop-the-loop on a roller coaster without having any time to process it all. And this? The love, and passion, and need was so much easier to feel than the confusion, and fear, and anger that she could be experiencing.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she repeated, bringing her hands to his face to cup his cheeks and turn him to face her--to meet her eyes. She wanted him to see how much she meant it. How much he meant to her. “You have me. Always.”
The worst part was that Hans didn’t know how to fix it. He couldn’t promise Anna that things would be okay, because it was impossible to say for sure. Obviously, even just mundane errands in decent parts of town got you into trouble - that was going to happen, when the place they considered home and been overrun with criminals and law enforcement had to work overtime to even have a prayer of keeping up.
All he could do was keep going, and deal with things as they came - attempting to predict what would happen, and prevent each possible scenario, actually becoming so paranoid that they stopped living wouldn’t get them anywhere.
“You have me too,” he promised, hand crawling up her shirt, searching for skin and warmth. “I think the reason I hated the dreams so much was because I grew up without love there, just like in this world. It was a reminder of everything. To have it now means...a lot of irrationality.” A grin flickered at that, because yes, if only he could protect them both from everything - it was a lofty ambition, but it simply wouldn’t happen.
That much pain and lack of love could do a lot to warp a person. Anna truly believed there was goodness inside of Hans--both here and in the Dreams. But he’d been twisted by something sinister, and that caused him to… No. She didn’t want to even think about it. The Dreams were there and Hans was here. And she could feel his hand sneaking up under her shirt, which was a much more positive thing to focus on.
Her eyes closed. “I think I can handle some irrationality.” She whispered, then turned to press a kiss against his hair. Wherever she could reach with his head buried against her neck. She reached down to tug the bottom of his shirt up. Too many clothes, man. They needed to be wearing less clothes.
“I would hope so, by now,” he chuckled roughly, because sometimes it seemed like love was anything but rational. To help Anna out, since Hans got the message loud and clear, he shifted back a little - enough to pull his shirt off, since her insistent tugging spoke for itself. “You can see the scar but it looks fine?” Where he had a bullet go into him, the wound was clearly visible - but it looked plenty healed, like it’d been there for awhile.
Less clothes. Very much that. Which meant that he was sliding Anna’s shirt off too, hands gliding along smooth skin on the way as more was bared to him. “We’ll have to, uh...can’t be too loud.” Just warning her, since he had a houseguest who probably didn’t want to listen to them fucking, with her ultrasensitive vampire hearing.
Anna lifted a hand and trailed one fingertip over the scar. Honestly, it was quite a relief to see it there. Healed over, looking as if it’d been there for years, not simply hours. She lifted up a bit so he could get her shirt up and off her arms, then leaned in to press her lips against his chest. “I can be quiet.” It wasn’t quite as much fun as groaning and crying out during sex, but silent fucking she could do.
“You might just have to keep my mouth occupied.” Anna was addicted to it now; to Hans, to sex with Hans... she’d become a little nympho. It didn’t occur to her to worry that it might bother him. Because it certainly didn’t bother her. He seemed to be willing every time she wanted him. But tonight wasn’t necessarily about want. Tonight was about need.
“You’re dirty,” he chuckled, because it was something Hans jokingly said to Anna all the time - no one would have ever guessed. But he was glad to keep it a secret between the two of them, and not broadcast that she really, really seemed to like all versions of the act. Not that he blamed her. When you were with the right person, there really was nothing like it.
A girlfriend who loved sex. He’d have to be an idiot to say no to her. And he was a man - nine times out of ten, he was pretty much ready to go as well.
The unfortunate events of the evening still smarted but being with her was like ice to a burn. Maybe they couldn’t exactly predict the future, and that was fine - knowing that he wouldn’t be alone for whatever came at him was really the key to survival these days.