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Nights on the ranch were cold.
Solidarity figured this could’ve been for a number of reasons. The main two being that 1) cold was a quality somewhat inherent to nighttime, and 2) their base was situated between a snowy biome and a massive canyon with a wide river at the bottom, all of which added up to one hell of a wind chill factor. During the day the sun warmed the air enough to be delightfully pleasant, but at night they didn’t have any such protection. It was kind of annoying, if he was being honest. Though not really an issue. It wasn’t like cold nights were unusual anywhere on the Overworld. Even the desert got chilly nights, for reasons concerning the clouds and heat dynamics and other things Solidarity didn’t care enough to remember. In any case, it wasn’t nearly as much an issue for him as it was an issue for the person he happened to be soulbound to.
Tango was fairly adapted to Overworld conditions. Good, considering he’d lived in it his whole life. But the reality was that no amount of getting used to it would change the fact that he was part magma cube and his high body temperature really wasn’t conducive to anything relating to chill or cold. If Solidarity felt fine, Tango was wrapped up in his thick vest and shirt. When he was cold, Tango was almost always shivering.
During the first few nights, they were a little unsure about sharing a bed. They were both affectionate people, and they were soulmates for heaven’s sake, but it took a little while for it to click. They weren’t sure what the other might be comfortable with - frankly, they were still figuring out what they were comfortable with. But it didn’t take long for Solidarity to realize that having a living hot water bottle in close proximity at night was something too good to not take advantage of. Not that he was really taking advantage of anyone; Tango was just as on board with the arrangement as he was. Sleeping next to each other turned to sleeping shoulder to shoulder, which quickly turned to cuddling. However they went to sleep on any given night, they inevitably wound up wrapped in each other’s arms. When the wood and stone failed in keeping the night chill at bay, and the sounds of monsters outside slipped through the cracks, Tango was there like a heated cocoon, a physical sense of security, and Solidarity knew that the feeling was mutual. Maybe not the heated part, but Tango had told him that he was significantly warmer than their surroundings and that it did help. It wasn’t something Solidarity did intentionally, but he took pride in it nonetheless.
No matter what happened during the day, Solidarity knew that he could count on coming home to the ranch. To the cows and chickens, and to Tango. He could count on Tango’s warm embrace and even the sounds of his body, which were alien but shockingly soothing. At night Solidarity could press his ear to Tango’s chest and hear a constant hum of movement that calmed every racing thought. And few things made him happier than knowing that Tango could rely on him in exactly the same way. His heart swelled with fondness as his mind drifted off to sleep.