Time to take a ✨oneshot✨

this is more interesting than John Steinbeck

The walk in the night was nice. Peaceful. Lights shimmered, bright colors filling Times Square. It was May, Lin was expecting it to be warmer- he hadn't come prepared.

He felt a chattering shiver run up his spine. Jon only laughed at him.

"Shut up," Lin grumbled, rubbing his forearms.

"Hey, you're the one who decided to wear a tee shirt." Lin rolled his eyes.

"Whatever," he chuckled nervously. He shivered again, unable to control it.

"Here," Jon took off his third layer, helping Lin through the sleeves.

"Are you s-sure?" he had to ask, even as his teeth chattered in the process.

"I don't want you to get frostbite. Besides," he leaned in, an arm around his shoulder, "what's mine is yours, because you are mine." His gaze was sweet, earnest. Even then, Lin's belly was warmer with something else, despite the seeming innocence in the gesture.

That night Jon shut the door behind them, a soft click, gently holding Lin against it. He cupped his face, lifting it.

"Lin, sweet, sweet thing," he murmured, hand lowering to cup his chin, "sweet and all mine," he growled.

Lin never forgot that night.