'Mmmm,' Ben said, nestling further into his boyfriend's side. 'It's like sleeping next to a heater.'

Rook chuckled, and Ben relaxed further, appreciating both the roll of breath against his forehead and the way it pasted warmth against his skin. 'A heater, but not a blanket? Do I really feel that hard to you?'

Ben decided not to take the opening for the rather obvious joke there. He knew from experience that it tended to fall flat. Or, well, flaccid. He suppressed a smile at the thought before propping his head up onto the broad plane of Rook's chest and running a finger through the ruff of white fur there. Still, he was not quite able to kill the small grin on his face that appeared as he felt a shiver pass through the muscle beneath.

'Ben...'

It was not a warning, not quite, and the other's eyes had yet to turn gold and hooded the way they always did when Ben decided to turn up the heat, but the hero took pity on him anyway, cutting off the stroke into a casual tap as though playing out a drumbeat.

'I dunno dude, you feel pretty sturdy under all this fur. Blankets are a lot more, you know, re-shapable.'

Rook raised an eyebrow. 'Re-shapable?'

Ben nodded. 'Re-shapable.'

'So by contrast, does this make you more...pliable?' Rook smirked at his word choice, in that smug, little 'I know better than you' look he sometimes got, and carefully reached down to squeeze the skin that wove off after the small of Ben's back to form an obvious curve. 'You have draped yourself over me like a duvet, after all.'

Ben rolled his eyes and tried not to shift too much as Rook gently kneaded the bulge of flesh there. At least he didn't have claws this time.

'I'm pretty sure everyone's more pliable down there, dude,' he pointed out, not feeling as annoyed as he probably should have.

'Yours is softer than mine.'

'Weelll,' drawled Ben, reaching down to seize Rook's fingers and halt the rhythmic way they were folding into the flesh of his arse. 'If it bothers you so much, you could try stroking my chest instead.'

Rook frowned. 'I am not bothered.' But he let Ben's hand draw his own up, into the tuck of furless ribs that pressed into his stomach, carving out a thin hollow between them. He gave a curious tilt of the head as Ben paused, annoyance flashing in his face.

'Even your stomach's hard,' Ben muttered. 'No fair.'

'I work out every day. You do not. One of the many things it is, Ben, is fair.'

'Urgh.' Ben rolled his eyes. 'Maybe I should just stop sleeping with you. It would probably do wonders for my self-esteem.'

'You could start working out,' suggested Rook. 'I could give you a few tips...or maybe not,' he amended, on seeing the beginning of a developing glare on Ben's face. His previous relationship with Rayona hadn't lasted as long as it had because he was stupid, after all.

Ben sighed. 'Let's just go to sleep, Mr Muscles. I'm not in the mood to have a 'you should live your life better, Ben' argument.'

Rook's nose wrinkled. 'I do not sound like that.'

'Yeah, you kinda do, dude. Now shut up and be my pillow.'

Ben lowered his head, letting it slip down into the crevice between Rook's neck and chin. He could feel the real pillow flushed out against the curve of hair over the back of his neck, but for the most part his cheek and temple were pressed against the billowing strain of muscle that shaped Rook's throat. It was magical, the way he could feel it, that slight lift in the tendons and the way they climbed up beneath his chin, air fluttering beneath his palm as his hand dragged itself from Rook's stomach and stroked against the other's throat. Rook's breathing hitched a little at that, before soothing into a low, soft rumble and Ben felt powerful for a moment, playing the part of puppet-master in the body beneath him, even if that same body did still manage to rise up and cast his own slightly into shadow.

'Just you wait,' he found himself muttering. 'I've seen future me. I'm gonna get ripped.'

Then was a pause.

'I am still going to be taller. 'Future you' could still barely look me in the eyes.'

Ben screwed his face up in annoyance.

'Besides...'

Ben felt an arm wrap round him, sliding round to rest against the line of his stomach.

'I like how you are now. If I wanted a lover merely for their muscular build, I would be dating...'

Ben let the rumble of Rook's voice pass through him, feeling a little touched and then amused as it drifted away, Rook's shoulder tensing beneath his hand in thought. And then, rather like a cartoon villain, Ben felt his mouth sharpen into an unpleasant grin.

'Kevin.'

It was worth it, just to feel the jolt of surprise travel through Rook's form.

'Kevin? I cannot even begin to imagine...'

'C'mon now, you guys have tonnes in common, you both geek out over machines, you both...know stuff.'

Rook's hand opened slightly, his fingers fanning out across the slender curve of Ben's stomach.

'Unfortunately, I do not think he would make as good a blanket as you do.'

'Oh.' Score one for Rook Blonko, Ben thought, fighting down the lump in his throat. 'Oh. Well, um, that's good for me then.'

'Yes,' said Rook, 'it is.'

And then Ben closed his eyes as he felt a snuffling breath press down against his hair, the weight of Rook's chin dipping over his forehead to slide against his skin in a quick nuzzle.

'And,' Rook added, 'it is good for me as well.'

Ben smiled and tried to snuggle himself further into the fur lining his cheek, ignoring the slight 'oomph' of sound his partner let out at the motion. Yes, it was good. Good that Rook not only doubled up as a heater for the winter chill of his bedroom, but also, with a few words, could warm him to the core.


Five months later, Ben woke up in a sweat, his sides glistening with an oily shimmer that only the thin strip of light from between the curtains could illuminate. He took a moment just to breathe, throat burning for a glass of water, before he narrowed his eyes at the weight pressed against his side. Then, without further ado, he thrust off Rook's arm.

'This,' he felt himself croak out, 'is ridiculous.'