In the Still of the Night
[500 Themes: 82]

Barnaby always slept on the right side of the bed.

It was a habit that he refused to change, even when Kotetsu made an off-handed comment that he generally preferred that side of the bed.

"That's nice," was the blond's retort as he slid beneath the sheets and curled up in that very spot.

Kotetsu seemed to seek revenge throughout the night, tugging sheets to and fro, making Barnaby shiver and huff and generally become an irritated, restless mess. They were his blankets, damn it all; why did Kotetsu have to steal them from him?

It was about an hour into this that Barnaby gave up and simply nestled close, throwing an arm over Kotetsu's stomach and a leg over the pair of the older man's.

Kotetsu was warm. Warm and nothing but long, hard lines of muscle, so very comfortable and strong to nestle against. His face pressed to the back of Kotetsu's neck, breathing in his scent, nuzzling against his hair, and Barnaby forgot about being so annoyed that his sleep was far less than peaceful. Everything was Kotetsu – musky and clean and still a little damp from a past shower, wrapped up in his arms, his sheets, his bed.

He certainly wasn't cold anymore. Kotetsu made sure to vanquish all traces of that.