Work Text:
Twelve and all that was holy it was cold. The small inn they found was a great boon but the fire felt like it was doing little for them and their frozen, tired selves.
G’raha’s request to visit Ishgard was ill timed it seemed. He had avoided the typical winter months when searching for his opportunity, but that still had not let them dodge the blizzards.
He could scare see out the window with it all. Could almost feel it in his ears again, but that wasn’t his biggest concern at the moment. That went to Tyr, back against the bed, half present look in his eyes, staring lethargically into the fire.
Did G’raha know everything about au ra biology? No. Less that he though he did actually. Did he know that they were especially susceptible to the cold? Yes. And in spite of all his frankly embarrassing fantasies about being forced to share body heat, that was the reason he tried to time his request for the milder months of the year.
Carefully he nudged the man. Tyr snapped back from wherever his mind had wandered. He offered a blanket with a sheepish grin.
“It would not do well to lose you to a bit of frost my friend.”
“T’would be an anticlimactic way to go out.”
A part of him recoiled from the causal way he’d joked about his own death, but he knew that as the way of those who knew it regularly. And Tyr was practically a regular dinner guest with it. And he knew if he hazarded a look down at the exposed skin of his chest, he would see the evidence of it.
At least his response let him know that yes, he was not so far gone to the chill.
By now they had stripped a fair amount of their layers, opting for blankets and the dry changes of clothes they’d had in their packs. G’raha sported a simple tunic and pants, where Tyr wore the turtleneck style shirt that went under his armor, albeit the collar still undone to where it would let his horns through.
G’raha looked around the room. The innkeep had provided them many blankets and firewood. Whatever extra layers they needed could be scrounged up from their packs. The only hitch he could conceive of was the bed.
Issue being that there was only one.
And they were two.
He had read about how in the wake of the Seventh Calamity, Ishgard had begun to adopt a snowstorm practice for travelers. Namely, that for each party seeking shelter in a storm, only one room would be afforded, to save room for other unlucky souls. If there were other rooms with an extra bed available, he could not blame the innkeep for pointing them to the one with a single bed. Most likely she would be saving those for larger groups.
“I think it would be well of us to turn in for the night. Perhaps we will sleep away the storm.” He watched as Tyr slowly nodded before gathering a few blankets for himself. His ears still had yet to warm up. “I will take the floor then.”
Tyr’s hand shot out, grabbing his arm, not giving him a chance to even drop the bedding. “It’s too cold for that.”
“I will admit it is still somewhat chilly but I will be fine I assure you. The bed is simply too small.” It was technically correct, if you tilted your head some. While the bed was a good size, enough to fit even the tallest travelers, Tyr among them, it was not, however, wide enough for a pair to sleep without the risk of being on top of each other
The thought sent a sense of warmth through him. Not that he could mention it.
“We trudged through miles of snow today. We both should sleep somewhere more comfortable.”
Tyr knew that they would have to sleep close, even when his mind was running at half speed. The part of him that had felt relief when carrying him out of the tower wanted it. G’raha’s habit of falling on the sword inspired too many urges to keep him in arms reach.
But those feelings were his problem, even though he was acting on something that would indulge them. He could just see how worn down he was from earlier. Sagging shoulders, rubbing his hands together, the slow way his tail was moving. He need a restful and warm sleep as much as he did.
G’raha looked to him, then the bed, then back at him. His lips pressed together in the way they always did when he was thinking. The word cute sprang to mind. Would it be too childish to just grab him and flop down? Wait, no he would probably get jabbed.
“I supposed that would be best.”
The past years of assisting… eccentric people had him well trained in the art of keeping a stoic neutral face, giving him no issue in keeping the spike of joy from showing on his face. He pried himself off of the floor and, after taking his boots off, settled down on the bed.
G’raha did not miss the drowsy smile that spread across Tyr’s face. He wasn’t sure if he even knew it was there.
No matter, he thought as the wind howled outside the window.
He settled onto his side of the bed, trying to keep a respectful distance between them. He tucked his tail close. Arms and legs in, facing away from the other man, still as he could be without begging dead.
His efforts did little, as he was still close enough to feel the warmth coming from behind him. He was aware of the dip of the mattress and the sound of blankets shifting much more than he would normally be. Even if he wasn’t already just and ilm away he would certainly feel like it.
“Got enough room?”
“Ah yes, I’m just fine. Yourself?”
A positive sounding noise came from Tyr. Good. He adjusted the blankets one more time.
He watched the fire as he tried to sleep. He wasn’t sure how long he’d laid there, though evidently whatever spell the cold had over Tyr had given him an easier time.
It was… nice. Still slightly chilly but not the blistering cold from earlier. Would that he could spend more nights like this. He’d grown accustomed to lonely nights, imagining a phantom presence behind him in his long years. To have the real thing next to him was more than he had hoped.
——————
G’raha woke up warm. He must of put on more blankets sometime in the night, the gentle way the hugged him was too good for him to cast off.
One of them must of put a pillow between them at some point in the night. Likely to eliminate most of the chill that slipped in from the gap between them.
He let out a long sigh and nuzzled into the pillow, pausing when his nose did not find cotton and plush, but instead something smooth and firmer than stuffing.
Almost like scale.
Almost like scale.
Scale.
G’raha eyes snapped open. It was not a pillow at all, and that extra nice weight was not, in fact the blankets but was, in actuality Tyr, who very firmly had him in an unconscious embrace.
His face suddenly grew warm. When? How? Wicked white, did he do this? What should he do? He was loathe to wake him up, a general thing but especially on the account of him looking so peaceful like this.
And really, he didn’t want to leave himself, but what if Tyr were to wake and… he didn’t know, be embarrassed? Uncomfortable in any way?
He could just slip out of bed and act like it never happened and spare them both. Yes, that sounded good, though he really did want to stay.
Carefully he attempted to lift the arm on top of him. He managed it, consequently pulling the blankets up enough to let some of the cold air into the warm little haven. He shivered when it hit him, frowning slightly.
He didn’t have to linger on it too long as the arm tightened and pulled him closer. He checked Tyr’s face. Still asleep.
His other attempt was to shuffle out width wise and slip out instead of hauling the other man off of him. But once again he was foiled and held tighter.
Trying to slip out the ‘top’ or ‘bottom’ had too much of a risk of waking, and he was left with one choice. Pretend to sleep until Tyr awoke.
Not an awful plan, he thought as he closed his eyes again, leaning into him. It let him indulge in his fantasies, he might not even need to fake sleep. Warm and comfortable and safe. The cold outside made the mass of blankets an island of just the two of them, so easy to forget anything else in the room.
Just… fake it… until… morning proper… then…
Tyr woke up warm. He couldn’t recall too much of the previous night, the cold tended to… have him in a state. He was holding… something. He stiffened. It was where most of the warmth was coming from, but when-
Twelve it was G’raha. Right, they spilt the bed last night. Tyr must of grabbed him at some point.
That was embarrassing.
He far from minded on his end. He fit comfortably in his arms. Right there, not far away in some tower, or world, or, gods, formless and drifting at the edge of the universe. He wasn’t lost, not anymore. Not anymore.
He sighed, carefully pulling his arms back to himself and releasing him. He sat up some, stretching the crick in his neck. He’d forgotten to put something under it.
What he didn’t expect was for G’raha to grab him and pull himself right back to his side. He was so warm too, like a personal fire in all the wind and snow. Careful to not wake him, he looped an arm around his shoulders.
Something about it, most likely the angle, reminded him of being dragged to wakefulness on the Ragnarok. He couldn’t shake the faces they had made, the relief after desperation, the tired, fear preceded joy. He’d wanted to wrap him arms around them all them, and assure himself that they too were alive and safe .
Careful to not wake him, he looped an arm around his shoulders.
The second time G’raha woke up there was no escape. In the time since he’d apparently graduated from using Tyr as a blanket to using him as a pillow.
The man in question was laying on his back, propped up some by pillows. And he could not ignore the fact that he still had one arm wrapped around his shoulders.
The minute he sought to move, he stirred, cracking open his eyes and blinking blearily at him.
“Good morning.” The lower, sleep laden voice sounded so pleasant in G’raha’s ears.
“Good morning to you as well. I ah, apologize. I seem to have not kept my distance last night. I did not intend on any discomfort.”
Tyr shook his head. Could that be a blush on his cheeks? “It was probably me, I get… out of it when it gets cold. I really didn’t mind. Unless you were…?”
“Oh no! I was fine! Truly, I merely didn’t wish to overstep and well, cross a line in our friendship. I was worried that you were sick or such from the cold. You were ‘out of it’ as you said, but the greater repercussions of such a state…” Gods he was rambling. Somewhere under the blankets his tail was winding itself into an embarrassed knot. Tyr’s arm was being lifted off of him. “I… very much enjoyed it though.”
The arm stilled. “I did too. Would you… like me to keep doing it?”
“Would you like to?”
Tyr paused, slowly nodded and, after a moment, lowered his arm back down. G’raha let out a sigh when he could feel the weight once again. Something about it made him feel bold.
“G’raha I-“
“You can use Raha if you wish.”
He seemed to keep stealing words from him this morning from all the pausing.
“ Raha .” Tyr tested the word. It rolled so nicely off his lips. “Raha, I was… wondering if you’d like to… do this again?”
Gods he was fumbling. Usually he had a good idea of what he wanted to say, but G’raha- Raha, was so close and he couldn’t stop the leaps his heart made because of it.
“Would I like to go to Ishgard again? I certainly won’t be able to see everything in one trip, and a city with such rich history could take weeks to visit every interesting place. If the opportunity presents itself I would take it yes. Unless you mean…” he made a vague gesture to the two of them, “this. I-I wouldn’t, I mean, I’d be happy to, if you are that is.”
Tyr smiled. “Yeah. I’ll be sure to get the single rooms then, for next time.”
“You are quite comfortable anyways.”
“Really? I’ve been told I’m unusually pointy.”
G’raha let out a chuckle. He’d remembered him in the standard dragoon armor. It alone was unusually pointy. “When it’s just you I find that to be an exaggeration.”
“You’re pretty nice too.” Soft hair and ears, the fluffy tail. Tyr was pretty sure he gave off more heat too.
He took a look outside the window. It wasn’t the dark of night any longer, but the storm was persisting. “It doesn’t look like we’ll be able to go anywhere for awhile and I don’t see much reason to leave.”
G’raha didn’t even try to fight his grin as he pulled the blankets up. “Neither do I.”
