Chapter Text
The ghouls are always close, existing as a chosen pack in a world away from the Pit where they don't quite belong. They don't always get along, and definitely don't always agree on everything. During the harsh winters, however, there is one agreed-upon rule.
Dewdrop must be equally shared.
It only makes sense that the fire ghoul is unanimously chosen to keep everyone warm. Cold is a bit of a foreign concept in the pit. Sure, a dip in a lake or a gust of wind here and there can be refreshing, but never cold. It's just an expectation that during the winter months, Dew will wake up with at least one other ghoul, or sometimes all of them, in bed with him.
Rain and Cirrus are the most common visits, with them running the coldest out of them all. Storm too, now that he's warmed up enough to the pack to... ask to be warmed up. Phantom almost exclusively joins only if someone else is already there, claiming that they don't want to hog the heat. Aurora and Haze can produce their own moderate heat temporarily, being multighouls, but they often end up curled up with the others more so out of affection than their need for warmth. And Mountain, stubborn as he is, only ends up there when someone else drags him, never the type to seek out help even if he needs it.
Despite what others may think, Dew doesn't mind this arrangement. He isn't anywhere near the first ghoul to initiate affection, and he certainly isn't the most approachable either, but he loves his pack ferociously. He likes the feeling of being helpful too, although he'd never let it show.
Tonight just so happens to be the coldest of the season so far.
Rain joins him before he even lies down for bed. He enters the room wordlessly, shoulders trembling, either not noticing or ignoring the fact that Dew is in the middle of undressing.
"Lucifer, can't a ghoul get some privacy?" Dew huffs, tossing his shirt and pants on the already large pile in the corner. Sleeping almost entirely naked, he finds, helps his warmth spread among their large group more easily. It's become a habit even if he's not sure anyone will sneak into his room that night.
"No." Rain grumbles as he shrugs off his shirt as he moves, beelining towards the bed. He immediately curls up in the thickest blanket Dew owns, trying to soak up any residual heat. Dew can't blame him, Rain gets unbelievably cold, and there's an especially bitter chill tonight in the Abbey.
He can't say that the water ghoul is usually delicate. Easygoing, sure, but his quiet and introverted demeanor doesn't do much to hide the menacing force that is Rain. Yet right now, curled in on himself, still shivering and teeth clattering, he looks so... docile. Like a rescued cat that doesn't quite know what comfort is yet. It's exactly how Dew remembers him looking when he was first summoned.
He doesn't let him suffer for too long. He climbs into bed, shoving scattered pillows and dirty clothes out of the way, and reaches out to hold him. Rain reciprocates instantly, getting as close as physically possible and letting out a happy little trill as he bumps his head against Dew's chin. He snakes a hand up Rain's back, rubbing circles into his frigid skin. Rain's body relaxes quickly, practically melting with satisfaction at the warmth.
"Better?" Dew questions.
Rain just hums in response, running deft fingers across Dew's scalp in appreciation. Dew leans into the touch gratefully.
Rain is asleep in minutes, the moment he's warmed adequately. Dew is close to drifting off, until he hears his door creak open quietly. He doesn't have to look, only take a few sniffs; Moss covered pine trees and a fresh, citrusy-sweet scent.
Cirrus attempts to shove Mountain towards the bed, only managing to move him a mere inch.
"Firefly. Mount is going to let himself freeze to death, I swear." Cirrus mumbles, following behind the taller ghoul.
"I'm not going to 'freeze to death,' Cir, I have blankets-"
"He's like an icicle. Could get frostbite any moment now." She exaggerates, giving him another shove.
Dew rolls his eyes, a faux annoyance, and cocks his head at Mountain, then towards the bed. "C'mon, big guy. I don't bite."
Mountain eyes him suspiciously. "You do, actually." He points out, but obeys anyway, the warmth too alluring to deny himself. He lies behind Dew on the edge of the bed, leaving a small gap between them.
"Notoriously." Cirrus adds, "Biting is like, a whole thing that you do." Dew realizes now that Mountain's distance is intentional as Cirrus squeezes her way between them, her chest pressed against Dew's back. Soft, a knitted sweater, he guesses.
Her arm wraps around his middle, an icy hand landing on Rain's bare shoulder. Rain stirs and groans at the contact, but doesn't make any effort to get her off.
"Okay, fuck me for having hobbies, I guess." Dew jests, earning a half-hearted smack to his side from Rain. "Oh, look. You guys woke the beast. Nice going."
Rain's eyes dart open to glare at him.
"One of these days, Dewdrop, Rain's gonna figure out a worse fate than the pit just to send you there." Cirrus mumbles into his hair.
"Already planning on it, if he doesn't stop talking." Rain replies as he closes his eyes again, nosing into Dew's neck.
"Ungrateful bastards, all of you."
Cirrus presses a kiss to his shoulder blade. He shivers.
"You know we appreciate you, flame." She whispers, pressing another kiss closer to his neck. He mumbles something intelligible and squirms ever so slightly.
"Yeah. You better." Is all he can muster in response. He glides a hand over her sweater sleeve, poking his fingers between the knitting.
Aurora, Storm, and Haze wander in not long after. With the latter two being newer additions, they're a little on the shy side when it comes to seeking out other ghouls. Aurora was quite shy at one point, too, and now she does for the new ghouls what Cirrus, Cumulus, and Swiss did for both her and Phantom. It's a cycle of sorts now. Dew feels a pang in his chest when he thinks too hard about it.
They greet the others in whispers as they pile in. Haze and Storm huddle together close behind Rain, while Aurora takes her usual spot atop Mountain, head lying on his chest.
The bed is overcrowded now, Mountain bordering on falling off, although it's not unpleasant. Somehow, Dew feels warmer too with everyone soothed and comfortable around him.
Phantom is the last to join this time. Hours later, which isn't like them.
Dew is the only one awake to stir when his door creaks open once more. There stands Phantom in the doorway.
Something about them instantly seems off. They're stood still, staring at the sight of everybody in bed, and their shoulders slump as if they'd just sighed. They fidget with the hem of their t-shirt.
After a few moments, Phantom must realize that Dew is watching them, because they walk over as if they'd just arrived. They're slow, their movements hesitant as they climb into bed. They slot themself between Storm and Rain, shimmying up to the water ghoul to spoon him. Rain shifts a little, sniffs, then stills, seemingly content.
It isn't usually Dew's place, he's not exactly eager to question any of the other ghouls' emotions when he hardly even understands his own half the time, but something is clearly amiss. When a ghoul is upset within a pack, especially in their own... unique situation of being topside, it affects everybody else. Sometimes even on a physical level. Keeping up with each other's mental and physical health is incredibly important, no matter how much he or anyone else resents it.
So, despite his hesitance, he reaches past Rain, brushing bony knuckles across Phantom's jaw.
"You okay?"
Phantom nods, leans into the touch. Doesn't say anything. Their eyes seem to look past Dew, not at him.
"Spill it tomorrow," Dew urges. Phantom isn't fooling anyone, poor thing's always been kind of a terrible liar.
A few long seconds pass.
"Okay."
Not exactly a promise, but Dew is pretty sure if he hounds Phantom enough they'll spit it out. Or, if all else fails and Dew fumbles at being an open ear, Cirrus or Rain can certainly take over.
Dew lets his hand drift into Phantom's hair, making it more of a mess than it already is. He repeatedly twirls a black strand and a white strand together around his finger, watching the way they intertwine and then spring free over and over. He only stops once he hears a low purr from the other's throat, a sure sign that they're asleep.
With everyone thoroughly warm and accounted for, Dew finally allows himself to drift into slumber.
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