By the time Yamamoto makes it into the bedroom, Gokudera is nowhere to be seen. That doesn't mean he doesn't know where the other is - the heap of blankets in the middle of the bed makes that abundantly clear - but Gokudera's managed to completely immerse himself, even the bright silver of his hair entirely muffled under the multiple layers of comforters.
It makes Yamamoto smile, affectionate pleasure too warm to even attempt to restrain as he pads across the floor on bare feet to the edge of the bed. The air is cool but not cold, for him, but Gokudera's been complaining of the temperature for nearly a week, and by now Yamamoto knows how he gets in the winter. He doesn't speak, just drops to the edge of the bed on the side of the mattress stripped bare of blankets and reaches out to unwrap the layers closest to him.
There's a grumble as he gets the blankets untucked, a growl that is as plaintive with discomfort as it is laced with irritation. "Hurry up," Gokudera offers as Yamamoto pulls the blankets back. "I'm freezing."
"I know, I know," Yamamoto soothes. "I'm coming." He rolls in sideways, stretches out across the bed so he can fit his feet inside the nest of blankets, and Gokudera reaches out to meet him, sliding across the bed to tangle himself with Yamamoto before the other even has the blankets up over his own shoulders. He feels cold to the touch, in spite of the attempt at insulation, and when fingers brush against the edge of Yamamoto's shirt he can hear the sigh of relief Gokudera heaves.
"How are you always so warm," he asks without any force of true inquiry under the words. The fingers slide around Yamamoto's waist, push up under the loose fall of his shirt, and then Gokudera's got his hand flat at Yamamoto's spine, the ice of his touch dissipating almost instantly against Yamamoto's skin. It's enough to be shocking, if Yamamoto hadn't been expecting it; as it is he just huffs a laugh, slides his arm in under Gokudera's head so he can wrap a hold in around the other's shoulders while he tugs to get the blankets back over them.
"I dunno how you do that," he says as he pushes the layers back to Gokudera's shoulders and away from his face. "How do you breathe with your head under the blankets?"
"It's warmer," Gokudera mumbles. A knee pushes against Yamamoto's; when he makes space Gokudera fits his leg into the gap, slides himself in to press flush against Yamamoto's chest. "It was that or freeze."
"Aww," Yamamoto laughs, fits his arm in under the resettled blankets so he can loop it around Gokudera's waist. "Better now?"
"You are ridiculously warm," Gokudera grumbles, but his attempt at irritation falls into more of a purr than a growl. He shifts his head, tucks his face in against the curve of Yamamoto's neck, and when he takes a breath Yamamoto can feel the ticklish gust of air against his skin.
"Yeah," he agrees, tipping his head down so his lips catch against silver hair. "I'm like your own personal heater, huh?"
"Shut up," Gokudera says with no force at all. When Yamamoto laughs he presses in closer, his fingers sliding up another inch along Yamamoto's spine until the thin fabric of the shirt is bunched halfway up the other's chest instead of lying as it should.
Yamamoto doesn't care. With Gokudera tangled up against him and breathing warm and steady at his shoulder, he doesn't think it's possible for him to be more comfortable than he is at this moment.