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Cold Boys Kink Meme ([personal profile] coldboys) wrote2026-09-28 01:56 pm
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Polar Explorer RPF - Prompt Post 1

This is for prompts for all things general Polar Explorer RPF.

If you've filled (or started filling) a prompt, please make sure to link it in the comments of the Fills Post. And if you would like to cross-post your fills on AO3, here is the collection!

Under this umbrella you can prompt: 
  • Historical versions of Franklin Expedition(-adjacent) guys (Rossier, Gore/McClure, etc)
  • Madhouse at the End of the Earth/Belgica Expedition
  • Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration - Shackleton, Scott, Amundsen, Mawson
  • Andrée Expedition
  • Karluk Expedition
  • etc

Prompts in line with adaptations of Heroic Age stories can also fit here, for example if you want to specifically prompt Hugh Grant!Cherry from The Last Place On Earth getting wrecked (which someone really should). 

No blorbo too obscure for this post! EXCEPT: NO PEARY ALLOWED. God I hate that guy.



Rules: 

1. Be fucking nice. YKINMATO/KINKTOMATO at all times.
 
2. This meme is CNTW (Choose Not To Warn) but warnings are highly encouraged.
 
3. Prompts should use this format in the subject line: [SHIP], [DESCRIPTION]
e.g.
Mertz/Ninnis, sex crying
 
Solo gen can be prompted as well alongside (a) character name and description
e.g.
Gen, Emil Racovitza, discovering a crazy new fish
 
4. Fills should use this format in the subject line: FILL: [TITLE], [PAIRING], [RATING], [ANY WARNINGS]
e.g.
Fill: The Very Next Day, Cherry/Birdie, E, cw self-harm
 
5. One prompt per comment please. 
 
6. Multiple fills for each prompt are welcome! 
 
7. You don't have to be anon for your prompts or your fills but we do encourage it because of the vibe. You're also welcome to deanon your stuff by posting on AO3/Tumblr as you please! 
 
8. Feedback on prompts and fills is AWESOME; please take longer conversations to the discussion post.


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FILL: "Where No One Would Believe that Someone Could F..." Cook/Amundsen, E, slowburn, Part 5/?

(Anonymous) 2023-01-18 03:12 am (UTC)(link)

OK Roald’s sauna looks like this but let’s pretend he built it with his bare hands instead of ordering it online:

https://bzbcabinsandoutdoors.net/saunas/igloo40/

This is what the sauna stove looks like:

https://bzbcabinsandoutdoors.net/sauna-accessories/wood-burning-sauna-stove-stoveman13/

Fred blinked his eyes open slowly as the smell of coffee came wafting over him. He stretched his limbs, still warm and tucked under the heavy wool blanket, and began the tremendous effort of rolling over, his head still on the pillow.

Roald was gone from the bed, but Fred could hear him puttering around out of sight in the cabin. He must have lit some of the oil lamps, but a pale milky light also filtered in through the windows. At this time of year, at this latitude, that must mean that he’d slept in quite late. His brain was still muzzy from sleep, but as he stretched an arm experimentally to push himself up, he couldn’t deny that he’d slept better than he had in weeks, if not months. He was safe now, even if only temporarily. And the company had probably helped too.

Roald reappeared in his field of vision. “Ah, the great doctor is awake.” He passed Fred a fresh mug of coffee as he sat up in the bed, the scent unbelievably comforting. Fred took the mug and nodded gratefully, his fingertips brushing Roald’s and sending a little frisson of excitement up his spine. He took a gulp as Roald turned back to the kitchen nook. “The pancakes are ready.”

Fred swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached down to put the mug temporarily on the floor. This one bore the emblem of the Order of the Penguin, an environmental non-profit that Lecointe, one of the National Geographic show’s producers, had started. He looked down and saw the penguin socks on his feet, and smiled despite himself. Zipping open his duffle bag, Fred pulled out his Prana hiking pants and his ratty old NYU School of Medicine hoodie and shuffled into them, before retrieving his mug and padding over to the table, where Roald was laying out plates and a serving platter piled high with pancakes. Just because he and Roald had slept next to each other, snuggled under the same blanket in nothing but their base layers, didn’t mean he shouldn’t be presentable at mealtime.

“Ah, Prana,” Roald said as Fred sat down, staring appraisingly at his pants. “Very well made. Of course I prefer Norrønas myself. The best are the old wool army surplus, if you can find them, but…” He gave a shrug. “You know my feelings on these things already. No need to repeat myself.”

It was true. Fred had spent many hours, happily, listening to Roald talk about expedition supplies. It was one of the few subjects on which Roald was truly happy to talk out loud at great length, and he had such a laser-focused mind for gear and planning that it was hard not to be impressed. Of course, it had helped that Fred was already enthralled with the man.

He tried to keep the emotion off of his face as he heaped pancakes onto his plate. He noticed that these were not the thin, almost crepe-like pancakes he’d seen in the Oslo airport when he made his connecting flight, but thick, fluffy American-style pancakes. “I didn’t know you could make these,” he said to Roald with genuine surprise. “Why didn’t I know you were a pancake chef?”

Roald huffed a little laugh, his gold tooth glinting. “I learned after… well, after I left New York. I have an old friend, Adolf, who is a professional chef. He was the head chef on one of the Antarctic cruises that I guided and he could make all sorts of American dishes. He now lives up the coast in Hammerfest. I saw him when I went up there to buy some supplies and he taught me how to make them. Jam?” Roald slid over a glass jar of red jam, followed by a butter dish. “Lingonberries. I preserved them myself.”

Fred helped himself, then began slicing into the pancakes, lifting a jam-covered piece to his mouth. “These are delicious, Roald. You learned well. A pancake master,” he said, and warmed inside as Roald blushed almost imperceptibly. Fred took another bite. He’d never heard Roald mention this Adolf, and it occurred to him yet again how much of his past or his inner life Roald had been unwilling to share with him. Maybe it shouldn’t still bother him after all this time, but it did.

“And how about Jørgen? The man I met yesterday - is he a friend too?”

“Oh, I suppose so.” Roald didn’t look up from cutting his pancakes. “He has his own little cabin, about thirty kilometers from here. He’s a retired carpenter. He mostly keeps to himself, but we are on friendly terms.”

“And have you seen Oscar since you’ve been back in Norway?” Besides Leon, Oscar was one of the few people from Roald’s pre-National Geographic life that Fred had not only met, but had interacted with with any regularity. He was a former naval officer who had become a wilderness guide, and he and Roald had met taking some rich American on a private yacht cruise around Svalbard. He was like Roald - strong, taciturn, and totally at ease in the wilderness - and it was obvious that the two went back a long time together. They were really two of a kind in that way.

“Yes, he’s living in Oslo now. He still does guiding but he’s also working at the polar exploration museum. He’s come up to visit a few times.” Roald smiled as he lifted a piece of pancake to his mouth.

Fred nodded and couldn’t repress a little smile himself. After their first few meetings he’d been surprised to find that he was jealous of Oscar, whom he suspected Roald had shared thoughts and feelings with that he hadn’t with Fred. But eventually, that had changed. Oscar was clearly a loyal friend who cared deeply about Roald’s well-being. It was good to know that Roald had had someone like that in his life for a long time. The last time he’d seen him, Oscar had clapped Fred on the back and made him promise to make sure he looked after Roald. (“He doesn’t always do that himself, you know.”) Fred took another sip of coffee and thought that it wouldn’t be unpleasant to see the smiling, stocky man again, if he could honestly tell him he’d made good on that promise. They could have a very nice evening, teasing Roald together and then…

“Thinking of something, Fred?”

Fred startled, embarrassed at the direction his mind was wandering in. “Just wondering if Oscar would be upset that I’m here.”

“I don’t think so,” Roald said, as if that notion was mildly insulting to him. “And he wouldn’t turn you in if he knew, if that’s what you were worried about.” He paused. “He told me he may come up for a visit in the spring.”

“I’d be glad to see him again.”

“That’s good,” Roald said, rising from the table. He smiled just a touch. “Yes, that’s good. Jealousy would not become you, Fred.” He stepped into the kitchen nook and retrieved the coffee carafe. “More coffee?”

Fred nodded. “Thank you.” And then, because he couldn’t help pushing his luck, he said, “And what, pray tell, does become me?”

Roald didn’t even hesitate as he poured more coffee into Fred’s mug. “That sweatshirt. I always liked it.” He stepped away to return the carafe to its spot. “Finish your breakfast, Fred. Let’s get the sauna going.”

The sauna turned out to be different from what Fred had anticipated. Granted, what he envisioned when he heard “sauna” was the steamroom at the Equinox gym where he’d had a membership, always full of finance bros checking their phones while studiously attempting to avoid looking like they were checking each other out. This was a little wooden hut, shaped like an upside-down “U,” and painted a bright cheery red. It had a glass door that opened into a small vestibule with benches, where one could disrobe and leave one’s clothes and shoes. Another glass door opened to an inner room had one long bench on each side, long enough to lay down on. At the back of the room, flanked by two windows, was a black cast iron stove with its own glass window, but smaller than the one in the house. The stove appeared to be encased in a metal cage full of rocks.

Roald chuckled at what must have been the obvious look of puzzlement on Fred’s face. “You light the fire and let it burn for a while, so that the room really heats up. It takes about ninety minutes or so. Usually you need to refill the logs at least once halfway through that part. There’s a thermometer on the wall” - he pointed with one long, calloused finger - that will tell you how hot the room is. I tend to just enjoy the dry heat myself. But if you’re so inclined…” He reached for a wooden bucket and ladle perched on one of the benches. “You can fill this with water, and ladle a bit onto the rocks when the stove is really hot. That releases a nice cloud of steam.”

Fred nodded. He’d known many Scandinavians took their sauna time seriously, but the fact that Roald had dragged everything needed to build the structure to the middle of this clearing in the woods was still impressive. He’d never heard Roald mention wanting to go to a sauna when they’d been in New York, but perhaps he would have just scoffed at whatever passed for a sauna at Fred’s overpriced luxury gym.

“And so how do you use it to clean yourself? Seems like it just makes you more sweaty.”

Roald laughed, then, and clapped Fred’s shoulder. “That’s the idea, Fred! It’s relaxing and it’s good for the skin, and your health.” I’m the doctor here and I’ve never heard that, Fred wanted to say, but kept his mouth shut. “Traditionally, one showers before going into a sauna, so as not to bring dirt or skin oils into the space. And then afterwards to wash away all of the sweat. But I don’t have a shower, so I use this.” He stepped back into the vestibule, and held up another wooden bucket, larger than the first, plus some kind of loofah and a thick bar of soap from underneath one of the benches. He held them up so Fred could see. “The vestibule stays warm, although it’s not so hot as the inner room. I fill this bucket with warm water, then use it with the scrubber and maybe a cloth to clean myself up before and after. It’s alright if the water drips on the floor, it will just drain through the slats to the ground. I’ll fill both of the buckets with snow now, and they’ll be melted by the time the sauna is ready to go. I’ll let you have the first wash, since you’re the guest.”

Fred released a tiny breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He wasn’t sure if Roald would propose they use it together - it was ridiculous, they had been naked together hundreds of times, and anyway he knew that Scandinavians often shvitzed naked with family and platonic friends anyway - but he had been dreading having to figure out the arrangements. Apparently Roald had decided to be proactive. But Fred felt a tiny prick of disappointment all the same that Roald hadn’t suggested they get naked and sweaty together at the same time. He decided not to examine that thought too closely for the time being.

“So that’s it?” Fred asked, switching the conversation slightly. “No electricity needed?”

“None at all. If it’s very dark outside, I bring a battery powered lamp. Oh, and one should have a water bottle. Staying hydrated is important. But not a metal one, because it will be too hot to hold.” He paused. “Oh, and one other thing. Many people find it very refreshing to heat themselves up, and when they are good and toasty, to run outside and roll in the snow. Maybe to jump into a nearby lake, if there is one.”

“No thank you, Roald. I’d like to live to see tomorrow, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” said his ex, grinning. “Gives you a nice shock. It’s good for the systems.”

“The systems,” Fred said, making air quotes with his fingers, “is not a recognized medical term.”

“Well, you would know. But it’s wonderful. We did a plunge off that boat in the North Sea when we filmed the Shetland episode, remember?”

Yes, he did remember, and just the memory of feeling his heart jolt as his body hit the ocean was enough to make him shake in his boots. He couldn’t believe that he’d let Roald talk him into doing that, after they’d wrapped filming, although to be fair Roald was very persuasive when he wanted to be and he’d convinced several other crew members to participate.

“Not today, Roald. I’m only just getting used to dining by lamplight again.”

“Suit yourself.” Roald opened the vestibule door to step outside. “Come outside with me. I’ll need to split some more logs for the stove.”

To be continued...

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