*obligatory 'first fic in five years' warning*
After Ben became corporeal, he had come to realise there were a lot more problems to being alive than he previously thought. Like the need to breathe, for example, or the need to open doors to walk through them. The one problem he had never even thought of thinking about, however, was the constant coldness of his body.
He doesn't recall feeling all that cold before he died, and the loss of temperature hadn't registered as a loss until he came back to life (is that what he should call it?), but not even the otherworldly beings writhing in his guts could distract him from the constant biting chill now.
Ben pressed his lips together, trying to force his teeth to stop chattering. He'd gone to bed as soon as training was over, desperate to cover himself in blankets to get even a whisper of warmth. Not by the fire - he's scared of getting too close and dying early again, no matter how tempting it is.
It wasn't working. His fingers clutched the blankets, thin icicles trapped in place, his nose feeling like it'd never been warm at all. These last few days had been sleepless. Ben groaned and turned over to face the door. Maybe downstairs would be warmer, maybe it would, for once, be solace from the second floor. Surely he had a few minutes of free time to spare.
He bunched up the duvets, collecting them in a way that wouldn't sacrifice the feeble heat he trapped with him, and hobbled down the corridor.
"Alright, Ben?" Luther offered, staring at him from the stairwell, probably on his way to Allison's room. Ben made a vague noise in response and motioned for him to move. Luther scuttled away from the steps, cautious like he always used to be around him, still half scared of the monsters in his intestines no matter how much he'd matured, how glad he was that Ben was back. He remained nearby, however, watching over him as he started his slow descent.
The lobby was crossed out immediately from his 'potentially warm' list, partially because there was nowhere to sit and mostly because of the consistent draft from the door. Kitchen was out too, the appliances long turned off and looking entirely too cold and desolate. Instead, he stumbled his way to the living room, where the fire was blazing and casting a welcoming light on the sofa in front of it. A low muttering brought his attention to the two people there already.
Klaus and Vanya were sitting around the table, eyes fixed on a magazine open with their faces plastered over the page. Ben called out in greeting and they looked up.
"Oh, Ben, wondered where you went." Klaus said airily. Vanya waved at him, smiling hesitantly before lowering her eyes back to the paper. Klaus fixed his eyes on the three blankets Ben had wrapped around himself haphazardly and cackled. "Cold?"
Ben didn't answer for a moment, busy shuffling to the other (boy? man?)'s side. He collapsed on the sofa, curling into a fetal position and affixing the blankets to a suitable arrangement.
"I'm fucking freezing, don't know how much longer I'll last." he moaned before pulling his head under the covers. Vanya snorted from her seat on the other chair.
"It's winter, we're all chilled to the bone." Klaus' voice oscillated funnily and Ben assumed he was doing some sort of impression.
"You can share these if you can get in." Ben lifted an arm in an attempt of a welcoming gesture. Klaus made an enthusiastic noise before diving under, wriggling his way into the mass. He felt a slight chill before suddenly a great heat flooded his side. He almost flinched away, an involuntary squeak from his throat, before shuffling to get closer. Klaus yelped and jumped back himself, trapping Ben's arm behind him.
"What the fuck- you're literally ice!"
"Yeah, I know. Why'd'you think I got all these blankets?"
"I thought you were /normal/ cold not dead-for-three-days cold!"
"Oh, wow, thanks Klaus, I'd almost forgotten I was dead for half your life." he said in an accusatory manner, maybe half-joking. Klaus breathed out a short laugh.
"Well maybe you shouldn't have died so early." he chimed, patting Ben's back twice before retreating suddenly. The room was quiet for a moment, a silent almost tension seeming to have laid itself upon them. Ben waited for Klaus to make a joke, ease it with little effort, until he remembered he had equal social responsibility now other people could see him. God, when did being alive become so hard?
Papers slid across the table, breaking the silence. Ben cleared the sudden blockage in his throat-
"Vanya! Why don't you join?" he blurted, as if it were no effort to speak at all. He lifted his free arm again as if to welcome her in.
"No, don't, he's 'fuckin' freezing!'" Klaus hissed, mimicking Ben's words from earlier. Ben scowled and pinched at what he hoped was Klaus' neck, intending to illicit a scandalised reaction. He squawked, much to Ben's satisfaction, and swatted away his hand. He looks back up at Vanya. "Don't tell me you're actually considerin' it?"
"What? I'm cold too." she insisted. He heard her step toward them, the carpet muffling the sound slightly. She sat down on his left and pulled one of the covers over herself, making Ben scoot toward her in fear of losing precious heat. Klaus quickly followed despite his earlier complaints.
Vanya ends up curled away from Ben's side, only their legs sort-of touching until Klaus squashed them into each other because 'he needed space' to lay down. She seemed content with the new arrangement however, still poring over the magazine with a slight smile. Klaus had wormed himself directly onto Ben's side, long legs spread over the remaining sofa, radiating heat like the fire blazing behind them. It's a little awkward, being wedged between two people, but a blessing to be able to touch them at all. He's a lot less frozen than before. A little chilly, maybe, but a far cry from stone cold now he's got a human heater on either side. Vanya shuffled, getting more comfortable, setting the magazine on her lap.
Their conversation lulled, voices slowly becoming barely audible murmurs behind the crackling of fire. Murmurs morph into soft breaths as the three of them fall asleep one by one on the couch, Reginald be damned.
