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The feel of wetness around his torso partially wakes Bam up from his slumber. It’s not a pleasant feeling: a layer of cool, clammy sweat lies between him, his thin blanket and the bed. Grumbling, and still very much asleep, Bam kicks at the blanket until he can no longer feel it, and then rolls out of the damp sweaty spot on the bed.
He lies on his back and sighs in relief. Once again, the bed is comfortable and blessedly dry. Bam sticks his hands under the pillow - ahh, a nice semi-cool spot - and waits for the gentle arms of sleep to pull him back under.
And waits.
And waits.
Instead of falling back asleep, Bam slowly awakens even more. Bit by bit, the feels and sensations of the different fabrics on his skin become more and more clear. The legs of his pyjamas have moved up to the bottom of his knees, exposing his lower legs to the air, and making his thighs feel more stifled and sweaty. The bottom of his shirt has ridden up, exposing part of his stomach to the air. The previously cool mattress underneath him grows warm, and Bam groans in annoyance.
Sweat gathers on the back of his neck and his forehead. It’s sticky and heavy, and as Bam wills himself to fall asleep, not wanting to be conscious to suffer in the heat, he feels a drop of sweat roll down the side of his head like a tear.
Ugh.
Bam slides his hands out from underneath the pillow and wipes away the sweat. Even his hands are too hot to bear.
Bam gives up on falling asleep, pushes himself up to sit and cracks his eyes open. His eyes immediately fly to the only source of light in the room; the clock. The dim glow reflects around the closest objects in the room, the corner of the bed, the blanket - half kicked off the bed - and Khun and Bam’s slippers. The blue-ish glow reads that it's just past 2am. Too early to start the morning.
Bam falls backward on the bed with a despairing groan. It’s too hot and he’s pretty sure, irregular or not, he’ll be a pile of melted human mush by the morning. The room is pitch silent, aside from their breathing. The AC must be broken. His arm falls out to his side, and bumps into something blessedly cool.
Bam turns his head to the side, and sees Khun peacefully sleeping on his back, a foot away. The arm his hand is touching is miraculously cold, an oasis in the middle of the blisteringly hot desert.
Like a man dying of thirst within reach of the ocean, Bam rolls towards Khun and wraps his arm around Khun. The relief is imminent; the sweltering heat is kept at bay. Bam pulls himself closer to Khun; he tangles one leg in between Khun’s cool ones and pulls himself up until his stomach is half resting on top of Khun’s. He wraps his arm over Khun’s chest and shoulders, and leans his head in the crook of Khun’s neck.
Ahh… bliss.
Khun is wonderfully cool, probably due to his ice powers. Bam clings to him, his own personal ice pack and shield against the cursed heat. Bam can practically feel the overwhelming heat dissipating from his body. Bam holds Khun a bit tighter, turning his cheek to rest against the side of Khun’s neck.
It’s nothing they haven’t done before. On the odd morning after a particularly tough battle, nightmare or bout of loneliness, they’d wake up this way. The first time it happened was on the hell train, after they were reunited. Bam had been quick to apologize, but Khun had waved it away with his cheeks reddening and a stern reminder - threat - not to tell anyone, especially that darn Alligator.
Underneath him, Khun grumbles, quietly and unintelligibly as he tilts his head and neck away from Bam’s. Bam makes a quiet noise of discontentment and chases the cool surface.
Khun grumbles in discontent again, and his arm slightly raises, presumably to push Bam away. In hand to hand combat without shinu, Khun is the better fighter. However here, Bam is fully awake, while Khun is still trapped in the chains of sleep. Bam easily pins Khun’s hand down and intertwines their fingers.
“Go back to sleep. Everything’s okay.” Bam murmurs just below Khun’s ear, praying that he’ll listen and that Bam will get to keep his ice-pack.
Khun doesn’t listen. In a sleep weary voice, he cracks his eyes open and responds, “Bam? Did ‘ou have a nightmare?”
“No, I’m okay. Go back to sleep, Khun.” Bam tries again.
For a moment it seems to work. Khun relaxes and his breathing evens out. Then he grumbles unintelligibly again, and with Bam’s head against Khun’s neck, he can feel Khun’s pulse speed up slightly as he awakens even more.
“Why are you so hot and sticky?” Khun grumbles, as he attempts to wiggle out from Bam’s hold.
“...I think the AC broke.” Bam hangs on tighter, using his weight and position above Khun to his advantage.
“So why are you smothering me?” Khun slides his hand out of Bam’s grip, grabs his shoulders and tries to push him away.
“Because you're cold and I’m too hot!” Bam knocks Khun’s hands off his shoulders, and loops his arms underneath Khun, pulling them even closer. He buries his head in Khun’s chest.
“Go get an ice-pack then!” Khun rolls them to the side and manages to de-attach Bam, who falls onto the bed on his back.
“You are my ice-pack!” Bam gets up and tries to crawl back onto Khun with vigor. Khun uses the momentum to toss Bam over him onto the other side of the bed.
It works. Bam moves over to the other side of Khun - and then keeps falling. A millisecond later, there’s a loud thump as Bam crashes against the tiled floor.
He winces as pain shoots through this arm and thigh which had cushioned his fall. Bam rolls onto his back, rubs his arm and looks at the top of the bed mournfully. His ice-pack has thrown him away. It hurts in more ways than one.
A second later, Khun’s head bathed in blue light pops over the edge, his expression concerned. “Bam, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Now that the pain has mostly subsided, Bam notices that the tiled floor is cool. Not quite as cool and comfortable as Khun - the tiles dig into his shoulder blades and spine - but it's still a relief against the heat.
“I didn’t mean to throw you off the bed.” Khun sounds apologetic and regretful. However the small sting of rejection gnaws at Bam.
“You didn’t let me hug you.” Bam pouts.
“You were hot and sticky!” Khun argues.
Bam rolls, facing away from the bed.
Behind him, Khun makes a distressed sound. He reaches down and touches Bam’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize we were so close to the edge.”
Bam stills. The apology eases the sting of rejection, and the sensation of Khun’s cool fingers tracing along Bam’s shoulder is pleasant. Bam involuntarily relaxes underneath it.
“Come back up, please?” Khun pleads.
Bam rolls back to face Khun and feigns disinterest. “I don’t know. The floor is surprisingly cool.” He adjusts his position so that the floor isn’t digging into his back and smiles up at Khun. “It’s actually kinda comfortable.”
Khun narrows his eyes and Bam barely resists the urge to grin. “I’ll let you hug me if you come back up.”
“I thought I was too hot and sticky to hug.” Bam replies, smugly.
Khun scowls.
Bam laughs. “A tooth for a tooth is fair, right?”
Khun looks confused for a moment, before horror takes over. “No, wait - Bam don’t-”
It’s too late, and Bam’s mind is made up. Grinning, he grabs Khun’s arm and pulls him over the side of the bed. He falls on top of Bam, his head cushioned against Bam’s chest.
Khun yelps and then swears, glaring at Bam.
Bam laughs. He gently tilts Khun’s head up and then kisses his forehead. Khun sighs, and slowly the irritation fades away. He slumps back down onto Bam’s chest, his head underneath Bam’s chin. Bam rests his left hand in Khun’s hair, finger-brushing out the tangles and gently scratching his scalp the way he knows Khun likes. His right hand rests on Khun’s back, right above his heart.
After some time, (Bam doesn’t know how long; whenever Khun lets Bam hold him like this, time seems to stand still. Eternity could pass in the blink of an eye and Bam wouldn’t notice. He has everything he needs, right there.) Khun’s breaths slow down and he falls asleep. Bam leans forward and kisses his forehead again before moving his left hand under his head.
Sufficiently cooled and comfortable, Bam closes his eyes and lets the tendrils of sleep pull him under.