𝔽𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝔹𝕠𝕪𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣 ℍ𝕚𝕣𝕖, Beomjun

014

Again, Beomgyu crawls into Yeonjun's bed. He doesn't put up much of a fight when Yeonjun sees him standing at his door and raises his eyebrows in amusement, patting the side of the bed Beomgyu sleeps on like he already knows that's why he is here.

Beomgyu hesitates for all but a moment to make it look like that isn't what he'd come for but he lies next to Yeonjun anyway, even grabbing Yeonjun's arm and wrapping it around him.

He's found that Yeonjun's the perfect amount of warmth for him to wake up without a sweat yet not freezing cold all the way down to the tip of his toes like when he sleeps alone.

Again he feels nothing. Nothing but the warmth in his stomach he assumes is from the heat emitted from the elder's arm, especially because it increases when Yeonjun pulls him closer. So close they're lying with one of Yeonjun's legs slotted between Beomgyu's and his face buried in his neck.

"You're warm." Yeonjun's breath tickles his neck yet Beomgyu focuses on the confusion the statement brings. Beomgyu's always ran cold, he's like a reptile or an unhatched chick without a mother who needs an incubator to keep warm. He's not warm himself.

Beomgyu turns to lie on his back, forcing Yeonjun to do the same. Their heads are the only body part facing each other.

"What do you mean? Everyone always tells me I'm cold." And Beomgyu knows he is, he's rarely seen without a blanket, or his radiator is almost always on for a reason.

Yeonjun shakes his head.

That's why Yeonjun holds him so tightly, he feels so warm like a teddy bear. How could anyone think he feels cold?

Beomgyu raises his eyebrow. "You're wrong." He frowns, though he doesn't know why he's so insistent on something that matters so little.

Yeonjun slides his hands over to Beomgyu's, fingers bumping up with every knuckle he traces before he slips his fingers between Beomgyu's and closes his hand. "How would you know? Sometimes people feel cold but they're warm to others, and the same goes for the other way round too."

It takes extra time for Beomgyu to process what Yeonjun says to him, his attention focused on their hands instead. His eyes flicker to Yeonjun's who's waiting patiently for a reply. He wonders if Yeonjun's heart sped up like his did, or why for the first time ever, he feels the warmth of his skin as it travels up and dies at his fingertips.

Yeonjun might be right, the burn of his hands, stomach and blushing cheeks appear to suggest he is a warm-body, afterall. Otherwise, he'll put it all on Yeonjun and say it's the heat he's sharing that he can feel because like Beomgyu's been insisting, he's cold. If he wasn't, he wouldn't want to lay lie Yeonjun at night in order to steal some warmth.

"Fine... I'll trust in you and you're probably from google source," Beomgyu says petulantly, hoping his attitude will cause Yeonjun to miss the way he slowly clasps his hand.

"You're adorable." Yeonjun chokes on his laugh, ruffling Beomgyu's hair with his free hand.

Beomgyu can't oppose the compliment because Yeonjun pulls him in, distracting him from it. They sleep in almost the same position as the night before except Yeonjun has found comfort in sliding his leg between Beomgyu's like he did earlier and does so now, keeping respective boundaries.

The younger counts the time between every rise and fall of Yeonjun's chest to keep him from thinking back to earlier but subsequently fails.

He's not surprised anymore, accepting his fate with a huff. He recalls the information he'd learned: Yeonjun's favourite colour is purple, he has good music taste because Beomgyu found himself adding his favourite song to his playlist after listening to it while showering. He cries when watching inside-out because Bing-Bong is forgotten and the first concert he went to was Taylor Swift and not J.Cole like he tells people.