Fit For A King, Or Two

155 2 1
                                    

TW: Fluff


It's not the same.

You've been musing this fact for how long now? You're not sure. Time has escaped you. Had you ever held it captive? You're not sure of that either. You can hear a faint ticking noise. Did your mysterious supplier give you clock? Have Lalna and Xephos jumped the gun and already lain a bomb? Is it just the blood pumping in your ears? Time is digging in its heels now, making a fuss and kicking up dust. Time is a creeper and the approaching morn is a cat.

You reach out, expecting your fingers to brush against another warm body but instead they stick out of the blankets and you become uncomfortably aware of how cold it is. The small amount of body heat surrounding you is wearing thin. Was it always this cold? He was always so warm. Even back when your adventures had started, when you lived in a hovel with nothing but the dirt walls and the clothes on your backs to ward off the elements, when you burnt the last of your wood and charcoal and the furnace died out halfway through the night. He was always so warm.

You roll over one way, then the other, grumbling under your breath as you become increasingly tangled in the sheets. Was sleeping always this hard? You squirm, trying to get comfortable again. In your frustration you lash out, kicking the sheets off. They fall to the floor with a soft thwump. Your head hits the pillow with a similar noise. A whoosh of air rushes out in a heavy sigh and you bring your hands to your face, pressing the pads of your thumbs against your closed eyes. You turn onto your side again, curling in on yourself, preserving what little heat you managed to retain. You can see him from here.

His lithe form is swathed in blankets that rise and fall with each rhythmic peaceful breath he takes. The dim glow of torchlight seeping in through the open doorway is just enough to make out the serene look on his face. The corners of his mouth twitch and he shuffles in his spot. You wonder what he's dreaming about.

Maybe,

you can just...

Your foot presses against the cold bare floor and you feel an involuntary shiver run up your spine. Shrugging it off, you pull your other leg over the edge of the bed and stand up. You only wobble a little. With uneasy and ungraceful steps, you attempt to sneak over. He stirs as you slip under the blankets next to him and he cracks one eye open to look at you.

"Sips?" his voice is muffled by sleep and the pillow in which he's buried his head. "What are you doing?"

You silence any further questions with a quick kiss, and you feel his lips curl into a smile against yours in the dark. Your arms find their way around his hips and your fingers interlock there, resting comfortably at the small of his back. In return his own arms snake over your shoulders, finding a perfect fit in the crook of your neck. He pulls your head forward and presses one more kiss to your temple and you close your eyes with a grateful smile.

Its agreed.

You'll push the beds together tomorrow.

Credit to gamux on Ao3


Big Book Of Sjips One ShotsWhere stories live. Discover now