Notes: Okay, this was fueled entirely by the fact that these two sharing a bed is canon. This was originally supposed to be a gift fic for a friend for an entirely different fandom and ship, but about 200 words in, I realized I was writing NezuShi.

Enjoy!

NezuShi – Sweet, Sweet Warmth

Fandom: No. 6
Character(s): Nezumi, Shion
Pairing(s): NezuShi
Word Count: 513

Winter was the season that Nezumi detested the most. Everything about the damned season was despicable; the biting winds that cut through threadbare clothing, the barren landscapes that accompanied it, the cold that settled deep in one's body and didn't leave until spring.

And it was a cold that Nezumi was all too familiar with. It had plagued him for far too long and he never realized how much he missed it before he had met Shion. Never realized how much he craved the simple warmth of another person until he had left.

It had been a tortuously long four years until he had been able to feel that warmth once again. To be able to share in the addicting heat that he had become synonymous with 'Shion' in Nezumi's mind.

It wasn't as if the black-haired young man could be called a cuddler, or even fond of physical touch, only where Shion was concerned. He had somehow become addicted to touching him, holding him close. And on a harsh winter night when one could see their own breath while inside, no one could blame him for hugging the white-haired boy close.

More than just a physical comfort, the other boy's presence soothed the chill in Nezumi's heart and soul from so many years spent alone.

He pressed a kiss to the back of Shion's neck, right on his scar, smirking a little at the shiver that ran through his slumbering body.

He really should be sleeping himself, but he just couldn't bring himself to keep his eyes closed. It was rather ironic, he was completely content and relaxed (rather, far more relaxed than he had been in recent memory), yet sleep evaded him. Maybe it was the moment, being ensconced with the one person who had come to mean the world to him, that made him bask in the warmth of it; the pure perfection of being entwined with Shion was too sweet to sleep through.

Shion made a noise in his sleep and rolled onto his other side, pressing his nose into Nezumi's collarbone in the process. The taller boy tensed because his nose was cold. After a moment, he relaxed again and brought his hand up to card through his bedmate's white hair. Even though he hadn't had a chance to properly wash it in who-knows-how-long, it still remained remarkably soft.

Nezumi let his hand travel farther down Shion's neck, stopping on his pulse point, feeling the heartbeat thrum steadily against his fingertips. Shion was alive.

It may have been because of that steady heartbeat, the warmth blooming in his chest, the day finally catching up to him, or a combination of the three, but Nezumi felt a sudden wave of drowsiness washed over him. He felt the exhaustion pulling his eyelids shut, so he buried his nose in Shion's hair and finally shut his eyes.

With the warmth of the white-haired boy heating him from the very core, the black-haired boy finally succumbed to sleep.

Nezumi still hated the winter, but the nights had become tolerable because of Shion.