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Nasir was already in bed, snuggled down beneath the covers – the number of which he had, to Agron’s dismay, doubled to ward off the chill that has settled in their apartment with the onset of winter.
Agron walked out from the bathroom, clad in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs and Nasir made a content noise at the sight of him, which caused Agron to grin as he crawled beneath the covers, snuggling up against Nasir’s body.
“Fuck,” he said once he was settled in perfectly, Nasir curled up against his chest, his head on Agron’s shoulder and their legs tangled together. “I forgot to close the curtains.”
“Just leave it,” Nasir mumbled, his grip tightening.
“The street light is shining right in.”
“Whatever.”
“You will complain when the sun goes up tomorrow.”
“And then you get to tell me ‘I told you so’. See? Win-win situation.”
Agron chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of Nasir’s head. “Love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you,” Nasir mumbled, already drifting off.
-
“Agron, for fuck’s sake.”
The covers rustled again and again as Agron attempted to pull them down to expose his upper body to the chill air in the bedroom without letting go of Nasir. Nasir untangled himself form Agron and rolled onto his stomach to be able to glare at him.
“I’m fucking hot!”
Nasir’s eyes softened in an instant and he laughed. He rested his chin on Agron’s chest, looking up at him. “Yeah, you are.” He kissed his pectoral softly. “But I’m cold,” he added, a tiny bit of steel in his voice.
“We’re not sleeping on separate sides,” Agron said quickly.
Nasir rolled his eyes. He wasn’t going to suggest that; last time he had, Agron had spent an hour sulking. Loudly, while Nasir was trying to sleep.
Agron rustled around some more, trying to arrange the covers satisfactorily for both of them.
“Can’t you just wear a thermal to bed or something, you popsicle?” he muttered irritably after a while.
“Hey!” Nasir smacked his arm. “I am not a popsicle. Popsicles are not aware of being cold!”
Agron gave him an are-you-fucking-kidding-me-look, still battling the covers.
“And this is not my fault – you’re the one with the freakishly high body temperature.”
“My body temperature is not freakishly high – yours is freakishly low,” Agron countered, sticking out his tongue at him. “I could use your feet to make ice cubes! You should get that checked up.”
“No one has ever died of cold feet!” Nasir said. “Don’t be an idiot. And can you stop rustle the covers before I go sleep on the couch.”
“I’m trying to fix this!”
“Maybe it’s unfixable!”
With a huff, Agron threw the covers aside and got up from the bed. He stalked out of the bedroom, leaving Nasir with a disquieting feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. He was even colder than before, but it had nothing to do with lack of blankets anymore. If Agron planned on sleeping on the couch, it was worse than bad. They had had mighty rows in the past and not once had any of them slept anywhere else than in their bed, whether the conflict was resolved or not.
He could hear Agron moving around in the kitchen and he frowned even as his heart pounded heavily in his chest.
And then Agron returned, carrying two steaming mugs, the spicy smell of mulled wine filling the bedroom.
“This will warm you up,” he said, handing one mug to Nasir and climbed into bed again. “What?” he asked as he caught sight of Nasir’s face.
Nasir, at loss for words, leaned in and kissed his neck, mouthing at Agron’s pulse point in the way he knew drove him crazy. “Nothing,” he said softly. “Thank you.” He took a sip of mulled wine and raised an eyebrow at Agron as the sharp taste exploded on his tongue.
“There might be some whiskey in it too,” Agron said sheepishly. “It’s supposed to warm you up!”
Nasir just snuggled up close to Agron and raised the cup to his lips again.
Dinner had been a while ago and the spiked mulled wine went straight to his head. If Agron had known how whiskey affected Nasir he would have tried this ages ago, he thought as Nasir pushed him back against the pillows, a little clumsily kissing his way across Agron’s collarbones.
“Weren’t you sleepy?” Agron asked, slipping his hands beneath Nasir’s sleeping pants to palm at his ass.
“Hush,” Nasir said, licking a thick stripe down Agron’s neck. “You’re supposed to warm me up.” He mimicked Agron’s voice as he said it while winking in a way that was probably meant to be seductive and Agron laughed.
He flipped them over, taking his weight on his elbows as he leaned down to kiss Nasir.
Nasir broke the kiss, rested his hand on Agron’s chest. “I thought you were angry, but then you brought me mulled wine instead. Have I told you that you’re my favourite?”
“Favourite what?”
“Everything!” Nasir smiled up at him, giggling, nails dragging lightly against his skin. His eyes turned dark as they travelled over Agron and it made Agron’s breath catch in his throat. No one had ever looked at him the way Nasir did, with such reverence. Agron owned a mirror; he knew he looked good, but in Nasir’s eyes he was beautiful in a way he had never been in anyone else’s, and he fucking loved that. Loved the way he drank him in, loved the way he touched him, loved hearing him tell him…
“You should get a Christmas tattoo,” Nasir said and giggled again. His finger was tracing the patch of blank skin between Agron’s pectorals.
What.
“A Christmas tattoo?”
“Mm.” Nasir’s fingers moved over his body, touching every blank area. “Not a Santa. I’m to territorial for me to be completely comfortable with you having other men tattooed on your flesh. Your brother doesn’t count. A reindeer?”
“How drunk are you?” Sure, he may have poured more whiskey into Nasir’s cup than his own because Nasir had a day off tomorrow and he didn’t, but he hadn’t realised that Nasir was this bad at holding his liquor.
“I’m warm,” Nasir said, pulling Agron down into a hard kiss.
“So pretty drunk then,” Agron mumbled smilingly between the kisses.
“A Christmas tree?” Nasir suggested after a while, breaking away from Agron's mouth.
“Please shut up,” Agron laughed, stroking his hand over Nasir’s lower stomach, tickling his happy trail.
Nasir leered. “Make me,” he said, and Agron did.
Thoroughly.
-
When Agron came home next night, he was looking entirely too pleased with himself. Nasir was lying on the couch reading, and Agron kissed the top of his head before stealing the book out of his hands and putting it down on the coffee table. Then he crawled into Nasir’s lap, kissing whatever part of him he could get his lips on.
“Hi, honey,” Nasir said, momentarily overwhelmed.
“I have a surprise for you.” Agron, grinning, undid the first button in Nasir’s shirt, kissing the revealed skin. Then he sat up and tore his own t-shirt off.
Nasir stared at him – every blank space of skin on his upper body was filled with Christmas tattoos: reindeers, Christmas trees, wrapped gifts, candy canes.
“Please tell me those are rub-ons,” Nasir said, blushing and grinning, reaching out one hand to smooth over Agron’s right pectoral. “And I thought I said no Santas.” He narrowed his eyes at Agron, teasingly pinching his nipple.
Agron chuckled. “Well, the number of available Christmas tattoos was limited, for some reason.” He kissed Nasir’s nose. “You’re a weirdo, by the way.”
“Says the guy who got Christmas rub-ons for his boyfriend.”
Agron pulled a sheet of tattoos out of his pocket, his grin widening impossibly. “We’ll, I’m not going to be the only one for much longer.”