A/N This is an alternate-time version of MC and Jake. It was written as part of a larger collaboration on tumblr called For All of Time with user paigenoelchas. The selection of the story that relates to the over-arching plot has been removed. Visit tumblr to read the full version and the rest of the collaboration.
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Location - Cueva de las Manos, Argentina 700AD
The cave we were in was dark and humid. The air felt close around us. It had been quite the trek to get us to this spot. And now that we were inside, only the flame he brought lit our path. Stopping, we looked up the cave wall at all the paintings of those who came before. Paintings of the guanacos we hunted, shapes created where bolos had been flung at the wall, and hands. Multitudes of hands.
He came close behind me while I gazed upward trying to take in everything painted there. The wall was a collective social memory, having been added to over the many millennia. And today, we would add our memories to it.
I feel the touch of his right hand is it lightly slides down my arm until it rests on top of my very own. His fingers intertwined with mine slightly before he begins to move, lifting our hands gently up towards the wall. He places my hand, palm out, on the cold stone surface, pushing gently on the center with his own before sliding his fingers open, up each of my digits, until his hand is perfectly matched on top of mine. His hands are larger and rougher than mine and extend beyond the tips of my smaller fingers.
Slightly, I turn towards him and immediately I am drawn into the pools that are his deep blue eyes. The flame flickers and the shadows dance over his face. Around and around those lakes of shimmering blue, they dance. I feel the undertow pull me further down into their depths untold. Lost in his eyes, being pulled close to his soul.
With a final push of his hand against mine, he crouches down and picks up a smooth stone, placing it into my free hand. Holding it closer, I can make out a worn center into which a red paste is contained.
His movement causes me to look up at him again as he pulls a thin hollow bone pipe from his leather pouch. He reaches out, cupping his free hand under mine as it holds the stone. Bringing it closer to his mouth he spits into the paste. He moves the stone towards my lips encouraging me to do the same.
Using the pipe, he mixes our saliva together and into the red substance, thinning it out. Once he is satisfied with the fluidness of the concoction, he gestures for me to continue holding the stone near the wall.
Slowly, he reaches up and places his left hand on the cave wall next to mine. Our fingers are almost touching as his hand mirrors my smaller one. Holding the hollow bone in his other hand, he dips it into the substance. Then brings the clean end to his lips, aiming at the wall. He blows outward causing particles of red to fling out of the pipe, splattering the back of our hands and the surrounding stone wall. This he repeats again and again covering the whole area around our hands red.
Once he is finished, the stone and the pipe disappear into his pouch. His hand slides over mine, pulling it gently away from the wall. Holding my smaller hand in his, he starts rubbing the back with his thumb. The red material is staining the surface of our skin as it rubs deeper into our pores.
Never letting go of our hands, we turn, gather our flame, and exit the cave. We spoke not a word while in the cave, but the message between us was clear. I was his. He was mine. For all of time.
