A/N: Deanonning from the kink meme again. The prompt was "As winter progresses in many places it's starting to get pretty cold, so let's take that idea and run with it.

The kink: Sharing body heat. The circumstances of this happening are up to anonyous. (Returned from being outside a while and they're just a little chilly? Or someone was lost and wandering at night when it's -40C? Or anything else?)

Sex is appreciated but not required; platonic gestures are fine too."


It was the cold that initially woke him. Sweden groped around in the dark without opening his eyes, searching for a blanket that he was sure he must have accidentally kicked off at some point during the night, but realized that all the blankets on the bed were already layered on top of him. His brow furrowed, trying to figure out why he was so chilly. He wasn't sick, and the window wasn't open…

That's when he realized what was missing: the body heat of his beloved "wife". When he'd fallen asleep earlier that evening, Finland had been nestled in his arms, just where Sweden liked him. He certainly wasn't in Sweden's arms now. Suddenly he was taken back in his sleep-disoriented mind to a time nearly a century ago when the bed had always been cold and he had known that even if he were to call out to Finland, the only reply would be stifling silence. Finland hadn't been able to hear him, after all, from all the way over at Russia's house.

Sweden sat bolt-upright in bed with a gasp, squinting around in the dark and out-of-focus surroundings (he had taken off his glasses before bed). Where was he? iWhen/i was he? The room was freezing, the silence suffocating, and for a few terrifying seconds, his mind was a whirl of panic and worry. What if he had just dreamed that he'd drifted off to sleep that evening after a trip to the backyard sauna followed by slow, sleepy sex with Finland? What would he do if he turned on the lights and found no trace that Finland had ever occupied this room?

The thing that caught his eye and brought him back to reality first was the luminous numbers of the digital clock on the floor. It was normally on the bedside table, but it had been knocked off when he'd been in the throes of passion with his wife. Digital clocks hadn't existed during the time Finland had spent with Russia all those years ago... Then he heard a quiet smacking of lips from the opposite side of the bed.

Sweden reached out hopefully, and breathed a sigh of relief when his fingers met the soft skin of Finland's back. He must have just rolled away from him in his sleep. There were no words to describe the depth of his gratitude to find that Finland was easily within his reach. Sweden curled his arms around Finland's warm, bare body again and slowly, gently drew him back towards himself.

Finland moaned quietly in his sleep and rolled over, nuzzling the chilled tip of his nose against Sweden's naked chest. The taller blond kissed the top of his head tenderly, running his fingers through Finland's sleep-tousled hair. His eyes slipped closed again as he breathed in the comforting scent of Finland's freshly washed locks, his lover's satiny skin warming his wherever their bodies made contact.

Sweden's hand strayed from Finland's hair and stroked lightly down his back, cherishing the mild heat radiating from his lover's person which chased the tension from his muscles. He kissed him again, on the shell of his ear this time, slowly, lingeringly. To Sweden's surprise, the kiss was returned groggily on his chest.

"Whassamatter, Sve?" Finland whispered, still half asleep. "You're shaking… Did you have a bad dream?"

"…Not really," Sweden replied slowly, wondering if what he'd experienced couldn't be considered a dream of some sort. "J'st cold."

Finland didn't doubt his reply; even as much as Sweden hated to make him worry, he knew that he would reply with guilty silence if he had in fact had a nightmare. Although it had been difficult for both of them to get over the shyness and uncertainty they used to feel around each other, they had worked on it slowly but surely over the centuries they had spent together and these days very rarely hid anything from one another. The shorter man yawned, his warm breath caressing Sweden's chest, and looped his arms around Sweden's broad shoulders.

Sweden rubbed Finland's back in gentle circles, warming his hands with the friction. Finland's bare leg slipped between Sweden's thighs and their naked hips pressed together, sending a little surge of heat and pleasant tingles of arousal throughout both of their bodies. Sweden's cheeks colored, but thanks to the wave of deep calm and contentment that had surged back to him when he'd taken Finland into his arms again he was feeling too sleepy to pursue the matter any further.

Finland separated from him just enough so that he could press a lethargic kiss to his lips before snuggling into his embrace once more. The barest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Sweden's normally inexpressive lips as Finland's eyelashes fluttered against his chest. His fingers slid up the back of Sweden's neck and into his hair, which he stroked tiredly.

Finland mumbled something that might have been "I love you, Sve", or possibly just some drowsy nonsense. Either way, it made Sweden's chest swell with affection and he couldn't resist stealing one final kiss. He sighed happily into Finland's silky hair, content to drift off again now that his arms and heart were filled to the brim with the sweetest warmth he knew.