Work Text:
“Th-this is s-s-such b-bull-sh-shit!” Vanitas’s teeth chattered as they finally managed to shut the door to their cabin behind them.
Normally, Noé would chastise Vanitas for such language, but unfortunately, he had to agree.
It wasn’t enough that their current case had brought them to a remote mountainous region where there wasn’t even a proper inn, only holiday cabins that those in the area could rent as needed. It wasn’t enough that upon arriving they’d discovered that the electricity and gas was out so they’d have to make due with the fireplace, blankets, and water barrel for their necessities. It wasn’t even that the weather had been cold from the very beginning of this venture.
No, the salt in the wound of this case was that the curse bearer held command over snow and ice, meaning she could summon blizzards at will.
And of course, he and Vanitas had gotten caught up right in the middle of it just when they thought they had her.
The retreat had been strategic. They clearly didn’t have enough information for the skittish curse bearer, and while Noé could handle the chill just fine, he knew based on Gévaudan that his human companion could not.
Noé glanced over at Vanitas and took solace that despite the tinge of blue to his lips and the red around his nose and ears, Vanitas was heavily shivering. If he could recall correctly, as long as his partner could shiver then he was probably fine.
Vanitas slowly made his way around the room lighting candles to combat the darkness encroaching through the windows. Noé decided to get a fire going. The walls were sturdy enough to stand against the storm and it was marginally warmer, but it wasn’t enough to be comfortable.
Vanitas’s shivering hadn’t lessened a smidge by the time they were both done with their tasks, his hands shaking as he shook out the flame on his match.
“Vanitas…” Noé slowly stood up from his crouch. He waited until Vanitas was looking over at him before he tentatively continued. “Take off your clothes.”
Vanitas dropped the extinguished match. “Quoi?” Somehow, his face turned even paler.
“Just your outer layers!” Noé quickly clarified, already taking off his own coat. “As long as your underwear and shirt didn’t get wet, they should be fine, but wearing wet clothes when it’s this cold won’t help. Even with the fire, you won’t get warm.”
Vanitas wasn’t looking at Noé, his fingers curled around the edges of his coat and cardigan. A different shade of red was rising rapidly in his cheeks, a sharp contrast to his otherwise pale skin. His stiff posture and the way he was angled away from him practically screamed his reluctance.
Noé softened slightly, even as he shrugged off his waistcoat.
He knew that for Vanitas, his clothes were the equivalent of armor. He completely covered himself, leaving only his face uncovered and hiding everything else away. Noé knew what lay beneath, knew where most of it had come from and could make an educated guess about the rest. And he knew Vanitas would rather bring himself to ruin than be forced into vulnerability.
Noé sighed. Pushing Vanitas would just make him even more stubborn. Which would be worse for Vanitas’s health, an argument over this that would leave them both exhausted and Vanitas still in wet clothes or forcing him to strip and making him so paranoid that he wouldn’t relax or rest for a second?
Noé sighed again, now down to his own button down and underwear. It was probably best to leave Vanitas be. He would just have to make sure Vanitas got the closest spot to the fire and they had brought ingredients for Vanitas to make soup and then he’d —
“Turn around.”
Noé blinked. He turned towards Vanitas instead. “What?”
He got smacked in the face with Vanitas’s coat.
“I said, turn around, you brainless blood-sucker!” Noé heard from the other side of the bundle of fabric.
Realization hit him just as Vanitas’s scarf and shoes did, and he quickly turned away from Vanitas, giving him the privacy he craved. Noé spotted a laundry rack to the side of the fire and he set it up to begin draping their clothes over it as Vanitas continued to toss his at him.
The only time he paused was when he was hit by not one, but two gloves. Meaning…
“Vanitas?” He couldn’t help but ask, because Vanitas never left his right hand exposed. But for him to do so now, could it be…?
Vanitas huffed in response. “Don’t make a big deal of it.” There was a rustle of fabric and Vanitas brushed past him, still in his shirt and under things but a blanket firmly around him and held in place by his right hand that was wrapped in its folds. Without another word, Vanitas plopped onto the rug in front of the fire and scowled into its depths.
Noé hid a smile, feeling an odd thrilling mix of happiness and success. Even if it was still tucked away, he knew exactly what it meant for Vanitas to let his hand out of its protective glove.
He finished his task and walked over to grab a blanket himself. Noé blinked as he stared at the bed.
The bed. Singular.
There was only one bed.
Noé knew it was probably no big deal. Vanitas probably just went with the cheapest option when they needed accommodations. Besides, nowadays, when Vanitas did sleep, they often ended up in the same bed anyway. Even when Vanitas didn’t sleep, he usually ended up in Noé’s bed anyway, all for Noé’s comfort he claimed. Noé allowed the excuses and didn’t bring them up — after all, he had no problem with sleeping with Vanitas in his arms.
But at home, they at least had the option of another bed. Vanitas had a choice if he truly needed space and it was too cold for the roof. There felt like something more with this, with purposefully only getting one bed.
However, Noé had bigger things to worry about at the moment, so he ignored the heat rising in his face and grabbed the other blanket from the end of the bed.
Maybe it was the thought about the singular bed. Maybe it was seeing how Vanitas still shivered, his toes curling into the rug’s weave. Maybe it was how Vanitas was willing to show such vulnerability around him, in a way that Noé nearly thought his chest would burst at the idea of it.
No matter the reason, Noé found himself following his impulses that he usually tried to avoid in fear of scaring Vanitas away.
Noé set himself down right next to Vanitas, wrapping his blanket around both himself and Vanitas so they shared a cocoon, only separated by Vanitas’s blanket.
Vanitas stiffened at the touch, straightening from his slouch and blinking rapidly up at Noé. “What are you doing?”
Noé just smiled at him. “We’ll get warmer faster if we share body heat, yes?”
Vanitas spluttered, but Noé delighted in this sort of red on his cheeks. Born not of the cold, but from the emotions that Vanitas liked to act like he was above usually.
“Isn’t that what you’d usually suggest, doctor?” Noé leaned further into teasing.
Vanitas just stared at him, slack-jawed, before he jerked his head in the other direction. “Tch!” He scoffed. “I suppose if it’ll prevent you from fluttering about like a mother hen…”
Noé beamed. “Oh, good!” And he took advantage of Vanitas’s acquiescence to snuggle closer.
Vanitas sighed, but with the way leaned into Noé’s warmth told him everything he needed to know.
Noé hoped he didn’t seem too pleased with himself. That would only make Vanitas even more grumpy.
Though grumpy Vanitas — not seriously irritated Vanitas — did have its charms.
Noé took a deep breath and the two of them just stayed there. They didn’t need to talk, simply taking comfort in each other’s presence. And slowly but surely, the color returned to Vanitas’s face and his shivering began to abate.
This wasn’t too bad actually. Sure, the weather outside was frightful and they’d lost track of the curse bearer, but this fire was positively delightful and he got to hold Vanitas close and tight. In fact, Noé would almost say that this was practically perf—
“Mrow!” Murr popped up in front of them, clearly angry, and startled both of them out of the calm that had settled over them. Murr glared, going back and forth between Noé and Vanitas.
“Ah, Murr!” Noé felt a bolt of shock run through him. He’d been so distracted he’d forgotten they’d left Murr here before going after the curse bearer. “I forgot to feed you.”
Vanitas snorted. “I should probably start on our supper as well.” He moved to stand up from his spot.
“Wait, Vanitas!” Noé scrambled to get up first while clutching Murr. “I have to feed Murr anyway; just let me —”
“Noé.” Vanitas looked him in the eye, dead serious. “I will allow a lot of things. Your cooking is not one of them.”
“But…” Noé knew that Vanitas’s cooking was leagues better than his, but still. “You’re still recovering. And it’s not like we’re hungry, so you don’t have to start right now —”
His growling stomach betrayed him. Noé felt his face darken.
Vanitas, on the other hand, barked out a sharp laugh and finally stood. He turned towards the modest kitchen and began gathering ingredients together. “Just feed your cat, Noé. Maybe I’ll even scrounge something together for dessert later.”
That was all the motivation Noé needed to let Vanitas do his thing.
Still, as he set Murr up and glanced over at Vanitas, who’d somehow managed to fold the blanket around him like a cloak to keep himself warm, the thought somehow trickled through once more.
The snow was terrible, both for their mission and the state they found themselves in. But as long as they were still together, Noé didn’t think their situation was too bad.
And besides — he hid a smile as he turned back to his task — with a single bed and the storm continuing outside, he could get all the cuddles he wanted later.
He would never let Vanitas be cold. And with a perfect excuse, Vanitas would surely indulge him all he liked.
So perhaps it was okay to let it snow.