Work Text:
Ross groaned against the intrusion of being woken from his sleep. The whole right side of his body felt like ice as he came to. Both his feet were outside of the duvet that was barely draped across his back.
Trott was curled into a ball against the cold of the room, the blanket wrapped so securely around him that no amount of half asleep, half arsed tugging of the material by Ross was enough to free even an extra inch with which the dark haired man could cover himself.
He fought against the need to open his eyes so he could try and work out a way of getting the covers back from Trott but failed. Rolling onto his back so assess the situation, his bare leg hit the painted wall and caused goosebumps to rise immediately across all of his exposed skin with a hiss of annoyance.
The dark haired man kicked out gently, shoving at what he assumed was Trott’s backside with the bottom of his freezing cold feet. “Trott.” He grumbled. “You’ve stole the blanket again, give it back.”
Trott didn’t wake, didn’t stir, didn’t move at all.
Ross shot the back of Trott’s head a dark look and sighed, throwing his head back against his pillow and sighing.
“Fucking blanket stealing, prick.” Ross muttered to himself as he rolled to his side.
Using his left arm, Ross turned his hand palm up and flat against the bed, pushing it until it slid under where Trott was lying on the duvet. Ross clenched his fist around a handful of the material and pulled until it started coming free, inch by inch.
By the time he had extracted enough cover from under Trott’s still sleeping form he was wide awake and annoyed at the other man who had managed to sleep through the whole ordeal.
With a satisfied smirk, Ross lifted the covers that he had acquired and shifted his body forwards and molding it around Trott’s. The heat radiating from the small man was a shock to Ross’ skin which started to tingle and almost feel like it was burning from the differing temperate.
Ross buried his face in the hair at the back of Trott’s neck and sighed in contentment as he warmed up.
Trott shivered in his arms. “Why are you so cold?” Trott mumbled, voice still laced with sleep.
“Some cunt stole all the covers.” Ross said back, his hand finding its way under Trott’s t shirt to rest against his stomach.
Trott hummed a content sound. “That’s not a nice thing to say about Smith.” He mumbled before letting out a gentle snore.
Ross smiled against the back of Trott’s neck and pressed himself flush against the other man, closed his eyes and drifted back off to sleep.
