Chapter Text
It's fucking cold, you acknowledge. This is not exactly the biggest surprise ever, since you are visiting Washington and it is winter.
You'd previously made the mistake of answering, when asked, that usually Bro and you spend the holidays alone, and you really don't do anything for the occasion. More like his gift is he doesn't challenge you to strife, and yours is that you bother to make something besides cup noodles to eat for the day (or you bother to put them in a bowl, at the very least.)
John was horrified at this confession, obviously. You don't know why you didn't see that coming. Evidently, even though his family was just his dad and him, they always did something big. They decorated the house and got a big tree and went all out, and sometimes they'd invite friends over or they're go out to parties and they'd donate gifts to the less well-off, etc. etc.. So in a fit, he invited you up to Washington for the holidays, and you politely declined.
Then his dad called your house and talked to Bro about the whole ordeal and before you fucking knew what was happening, the two of you were stepping off the plane and you were carrying the plushest suitcase you've ever encountered, and you know it's Bro's, and you know what's in it, and you wonder if Bro only accepted coming simply to get kicked out.
Snow is already falling here, which you guess is actually normal since it's December and stuff. There are so many fucking cars outside the air port that you can't even imagine this many people wanted to be in Washington for their holiday. You can see John jumping out of a mini van, and man can you imagine his old man driving a mini van, and you immediately hand Bro his plush bag, which almost causes him to drop other stuff, and he graces you with a scowl. You don't have time to think about it before John is all up in your grills, blabbering away a mile a minute, somehow more animated in the flesh than he'd always been online or through video chats.
Bro is smirking at you, of fucking course he is, and John has both your hands in his and he's wearing fucking mittens, but it's nice and warm against your bare flesh, so you let it slide this time.
"Oh, man, sorry guys!! This is probably, like, super cold for you, huh! Let's get back to the house, and we'll start a fire and stuff!" He gives the two of you a big grin, showing off the braces he just got in November that are blue because, y'know, he's gotta be a fucking five year old or something.
As you start heading back to the car, Bro shoves some bags back at you, but is polite enough to carry his own. You cram them into the back of the van (well, okay, you place them, with plenty of room to spare) before Bro takes the passenger seat, literally shoving you out of the way to take it, and you sit in the back with John, who's still all lit with excitement and going on and on about all the rad bro adventures the two of you will have.
"And I'm pretty sure it's gonna snow enough by tomorrow that we can probably make snow forts and have a totally rad snowball fight and, uh, make snowmen? That's ironic right?"
You almost smirk, but it crosses your mind that Bro would probably somehow notice, and you'd never hear the end of it. "Totes," you answer instead, and he grins at you.
"Dad wanted to have both of you sleep in the spare room, but I bargained with him! I couldn't imagine you and your bro sleeping in the same room. You'd strife for the bed and wreck the house and you'd wake up full of puppets and stuff. I took pity on you," he throws a pillow at you, but you catch it in the air.
"That's real sweet and all, but I can take the floor," you assure, but he shakes his head.
"No way man, it's gonna be cold on the floor. It's fine, I'm used to it! The last thing we need is you getting sick for our Christmas together!"
You roll your eyes, but decidedly curl up on the bed in a heap, not even bothering to get out of your clothes. You hear him scoff from the floor before the rustling of fabric alerts you that he's curling up into his floor nest.
The next morning, you almost flinch to find yourself with a face full of Egbert's shirt. You blink a few times into the vast expanse of blue until he lets out a giddy little giggle, and you almost draw back in shock. "Dude, that tickles!"
"Sup?" You respond lamely.
He's a little higher on the bed, and he has his head propped up in his hand, and he smiles down at you before he guides you to turn around and face the window, and you blink a few times into the brightness. "It's snowing," he answers, and carefully lies back down, nestling his face between your head and shoulder.
"Shit, so it is. Looks cold," you comment dumbly, and he lets out an earnest laugh.
"I love when it snows this close to Christmas! Is this your first time seeing snow?"
"Yeah..." you murmur, hoping he can't see the wide-eyed look you're giving the white coating outside.
"Mmm," he hums, and you feel him relaxing against you, "it's still snowing pretty hard, so let's just stay in for a while until it gets to be better snow fort weather."
"Yeah, cool, sounds good," you agree, stiffening as he drapes an arm around your side like it's no big deal at all. "Uh, hey, John?" You mumble, and he just hums a little into your neck. "Hey?" You repeat, and you feel him stir from his sleepiness to start pulling away.
"Yeah. Whoa. Sorry," you catch his arm before he can pull away from you.
"No what. It's fine. I guess."
"No, sorry. It's like that instinct to huddle for warmth or whatever."
"Dude, I said it's fine. Just. Do I really have to be the little spoon?"
He lets out a puff of a laugh right in your ear, and you hope he doesn't notice the goosebumps slowly spreading all across you. "It's not ironic or anything?" He asks, mustering shock into his voice.
"It's a little ironic. That's why I said it's fine."
"Are you sure," he asks, even though he's already starting to relax back into you.
"Dude. So sure," you think your voice almost cracks, and you hope he doesn't notice, but with your close proximity there's no way he doesn't.
"Yeah?" He snickers, and shit of course he noticed.
"Shut up and fucking snuggle," you mutter, yanking his arm now to pull him in closer, and he lets out another breathy laugh into your neck, and you practically shiver.
"Dave?" He starts, and you resolve to either ruin it or simply not be outdone.
"I love you," you mumble, turning shame-faced into the pillow under you, and his arm tightens around you.
"Wow. Thank god," normally you'd think he was being snippy with you, but the way he says it assures you he isn't. You relax again and allow yourself to sleep in, reveling in the warmth of the space against the cold thoughts of outside.
You guess you can figure the rest out at a later point in time when you're less ready to doze off. You'll have plenty of time, anyway.