The rain beat harshly down on the roof like a stampede of horses, and Soren could hear the trees thrash about on the side of the fort by the strong gusts of wind as if being thrown by some unseen force. Thunder sounded in the background like a drum, and ever now and then he could see bright bursts of lightning through the bedroom window across from him. Soren shivered and snuggled closer to Ike, a small voice in the back of his mind telling him he secretly enjoyed this, though he chose to ignore it.

Soren wasn't scared by storms, didn't find them frightening in the least, was barely even bothered by them, actually. So he hadn't gone running—not running, per se, more like walking quickly, he mentally insisted—to Ike's room in the middle of the night, possibly even very early morning, with a thin blanket wrapped around his shoulders because he was scared off the storm raging outside. No, he had gone to Ike's room, teeth chattering and shivering, because he was positively chilled to the bone.

Though while he would have never gone into Ike's room pretty much begging for warmth under normal circumstances, he much would have rather frozen to death, there was the rather annoying, and unfortunate, fact that he only had small, ratty, thin blanket of questionable age, and that he had given his nice, good, wonderfully thick and always warm-no-matter-what-the-weather blanket to Rolf. Which, of course, was met with an incredulous, half-asleep stare from a just-woken-up Ike and required further explanation. Further explanation being Soren asking Ike, in all seriousness, if he could every refuse a very doleful-eyed Rolf, whom looking like the very picture of innocence and naivety and anything else that could be considered even remotely pure, asking if he could borrow a blanket. Ike had merely nodded his head in understanding, because he too knew that when Rolf wanted to, he could quite possibly the cutest, sweetest, most wonderful thing in the world, to which people would go great lengths to please, if Shinon was any indication. And—wasn't it just Soren's luck?—it also turned out there was a leak in the roof, and said leak happened to be just at the right spot to him smack dab in the middle of the forehead.

Though he had only gone into Ike's room, freezing cold and with a wet forehead, looking absolutely pathetic, to ask for some sort of blanket or a jacket or something—Ike had just merely blink tiredly a few times, mumbled out something nearly incomprehensible, and gestured rather dumbly to the spot next to him on the bed, a clear sign for Soren to join. While Soren would have protested normally, would have been to proud to accept such an offer, he was just too tired and too cold and too absolutely worn out to say otherwise, so he had quickly gotten into bed with Ike—a little too quickly, now that he thought about it, but he doubted Ike had noticed—mumbling a small "thank you" as he did so. And had Ike been fully awake, he would have surprised, shocked even, on how very grateful Soren sounded, but he hadn't, and had pretty much passed out as soon as Soren was under the covers, rather ungracefully falling backwards and nearly falling asleep as soon as he hit the pillows, though getting a quietly mumbled, "'night, Soren," before going out like a light.

So there Soren was, tired and pleasantly warm but unable to fall asleep, listening to the rain beat against the roof and the wind howl in the background. And though he was plenty warm, he snuggled up closer to Ike yet again, ignoring the part of his brain that told him it was a stupid and unnecessary thing to do. He gasped audibly when he felt strong arms wrap around him, and looked up into Ike's face to see if he was really sleeping. Ike was indeed fast asleep still, and Soren reasoned it must have just been a natural reaction to having someone so close, and that he should back up slightly to save himself and Ike from embarrassment in the morning. Though after a few moments trapped in Ike's warm embrace, Soren decided to screw reason for once and enjoy this while he could. So with that thought, he closed his eyes and fell into a very long, warm, peaceful sleep, only to be rudely woken up in the morning when Ike rolled out of bed and rather unceremoniously on to the floor, Soren still in his arms.

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Wow, I haven't added anything in... 2 years, almost. The fic itself is actually over 3 years old, but I found it recently and sorta liked it. As it's so old, I would prefer no critique, as I've improved since then. Reviews are appreciated, as always, and hey, maybe I'll add something new sometime.