Sunset Clouds

Christmas Extra

dedicated to DyingWillTrio; thanks akkan for always sticking with me, Zeta45;  sadothesenutss; theragingpanda; AngFal; Dontdiewithme; NerdyAlien_ ; for being friends with me, and to all the readers that have stayed with this story through the shit up and downs.

But honestly though. this is mostly for akkan. (Because he's dealt with my shit for like, a long time.)
_____

The faint, soft sounds of the snowfall, along with the lack of warmth by his side roused Fengyin from his sleep. He shivered, turning and rolling around on the bed he shared with his lover, until he was covered in blankets from head to toe. Yet, as always, his feet are still cold.

A soft chuckle resounded from the other side of the room, the thud-thud-thudding of feet on woodboard calming Fengyin from his building edge. Unbiddenly, he released himself from his tension, curling on himself and grumbling once the soft and warm blankets were peeled away from his body.

He must have looked like a shrimp, he thought belatedly, curling on himself and shivering. Still, he kept his eyes closely shut, feeling that it was too early to wake up. Maybe it was. Knowing his lover, it might even be the crack of dawn right then.

His lover puffed out a short laugh, and placed a warm hand on the side of Fengyin's face. Like a cat nuzzling into their owner's hand, he rubbed his face against the hand for a few moments, before opening his eyes and peeking at the other man underneath his lashes.

"Finally woke up?" His lover retracted his hand, and Fengyin found himself wanting for it again.

"You left me," Fengyin accused, slowly getting up and stretching, wincing once he heard a 'pop' from one of his joints. "It's cold. You should return to bed."

If anything, the other man's true heritage was useful in winters. With him around, there was no way you'd feel cold. So what Fengyin spoke, was merely a ploy to get the other man get to bed so Fengyin could use him to his maximum capability.

Giving an inconsiquential hum, Zhongyi handed Fengyin a cup of something warm and smelling herbal-like, and Fengyin took it, cradling it in his cold, cold hands. The rising steam warmed his face, and he sipped at it slowly, feeling himself starting to wake up.

The taste of it was gingery and sweet and burned his throat pleasantly, not unlike alcohol; it curled within his belly like a dragon protecting its eggs, like a rope wounding around his stomach. It felt strangely nostalgic, as if he'd drunk this in the past, and he probably did - perhaps in his past life.

His eyelids drooped, reminiscing of a life long gone(forgotten, a treacherous voice within his mind whispered), and had only snapped out of his reverie from a hand on his head. He glanced up, to find his lover looking at him with a slight lilt to his mouth, a bemused expression.

He squashed the feeling of guiltguiltpainpainpainangersadness and smiled up to him. Judging by the frown that almost immediately formed on his lover's face, it seemed that Zhongyi was worried about him.

"I'm alright," He eased the older man, setting the empty cup in his hands on the bedside table. The hand on top of his head was lifted, along with a weight within his heart that he had held onto, unconsciously.

"Mm," Zhongyi hummed, scrutinizing him closely. Fengyin offered a smile. "Turn around."

Fengyin obeyed, and felt a hand running through his hair, a brush following closely. Being like this, sitting on the soft bed, and having his lover brush his hair for him, it was truly a novel experience.