autumn otp prompt: imagine your otp curling up beside the fireplace together, drinking hot chocolate and cuddling

this fluff is probably terrible ooc and i wholeheartedly apologize. please find it in your heart to forgive me

Gilbert wasn't really a blasphemous person, even after separating from his childhood church and declaring himself nonreligious, but sometimes, a 'Jesus Christ, it's fucking cold,' just suited the mood better than anything else.

The foyer was warm enough to make his frozen nose and fingers ache, as he pressed his shoulders against the back of the front door. He'd been outside raking the lawn for the past two hours, and once it'd gotten dark, and the wind had gusted his neat piles away for the very last time goddammit!, he'd made a hasty retreat back into the welcoming house.

Grumbling to himself, he pushed himself into a straight standing position and found the zipper of his jacket. Once he shouldered out of it and hung it on the coatrack beside the door, then pulled off the sweater he'd been wearing under that, leaving him in a plain blue shirt, he pulled off his boots in a similar fashion.

"Thank you for doing me that favor, Gilbert."

That smooth voice, accompanied by soft, padded footsteps, reached his ears, and he looked up from his spot seated on the floor, arranging his boots neatly. "You're welcome," he said, heaving himself to his feet and straightening his clothes. "I'd say 'no problem', but it totally was. Stupid October's cold as shit outside. Plus it was too windy to keep the leaves in piles. I'll have to do it when it's not so unawesomely blustery."

Gilbert looked up, and he could've sworn that his heart fluttered when he noticed the steaming mug held in Roderich's hand. It was held out to him, held with slender fingers by the rim, the handle in his direction. "For all of your trouble," Roderich said softly, his smile as warm as the drink he held.

Gilbert grinned, reaching out to accept the mug. He purposely brushed their fingers together as he wrapped his own around the handle and the bottom. "You know I went through a hell of a lot of it," he said, taking a step closer and shortening the distance between them. His hand ghosted over Roderich's waist as he raised the mug up to his mouth and took a tiny sip. The hot, fruity cider hit his tongue and he closed his eyes, feeling the cold rapidly fade away as it settled contently in his stomach.

Roderich nodded, his own hand coming up to rest on Gilbert's forearms. "I know," he said, leaning up and tilting his head to brush his nose under the cold German's defined jawline. "I truly appreciate it, even though you couldn't best the wind."

"Mhm. H-hey, wait, no, that's not true! I'm totally better than the forces of nature!" Gilbert lowered the mug and furrowed his eyebrows, the corner of his smirk twitching irately. He leaned in, narrowing his eyes challengingly. "It's been, what, fifteen years? And you still don't know that I'm the awesomest thing alive? Tsk, tsk!"

"Oh, I do apologize," Roderich drawled with a snort. He too leaned in, although there was a noticeable lack of playful challenge in the way he narrowed his own eyes. "If you're cooler than the wind outside, then why do you need this hot drink then, hmm?"

"I don't. Here, take it." Gilbert leaned back and held the mug out. As Roderich raised a brow and took it again, Gil smirked and ducked down, pressing his cold nose against the side of the Austrian's neck. The way the skin prickled under the tip of his nose and the shiver he received was satisfying. "I'll just warm up another way, heh."

"Is that innuendo, I hear?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"How cold I am." Gilbert placed his hands on Roderich's hips, sneaking his fingers under the hem of the sweater and sliding his hands upward. As he brushed his chilled fingers up the curve of Roderich's side, he angled his head more and nudged the neckline of the sweater aside with his nose. His chapped lips brushed over the crook of Roderich's neck, and he smirked as he remembered the faint mark he'd left the other day. He kissed the shadow of the hickey still lingering there. "Duh."

Roderich was blushing, judging by the heat that spread down the back of his neck and tinged his shoulders. "Gilbert, take your cider back, it's going to get cold if you don't drink it," he chided.

With a snicker, Gilbert slowly pulled away, slipping his hands out from underneath Roderich's sweater and straightening up in the circle of the other's arms. "Fine, fine," he snickered, hands coming away completely from Roderich's waist to take the mug.

Roderich shook his head fondly, then covered the hand on his hip with his own. "Follow me, please," he said, pulling Gilbert's hand away but lacing their fingers together. He paced backwards, then turned, tugging Gilbert after him by their joined hands.

Gil was all too happy to obey, contentedly sipping the warmed cider as he ambled after Roderich into the living room. It was very dim in the den, the only light source being the flickering flames licking at the wood in the fireplace. He noticed the corner-of-the-eye glance that was thrown back at him, and blinked, a smile rising onto his face as his heart swelled in his chest.

Roderich led him around the couch. One blanket was thrown over the back of the couch, and another was sloppily folded at one end of it. On the stand beside the arm of the couch with the blanket sat a mug, faint wisps of steam rising off of it. He sat, gesturing Gilbert to do the same; he kept their hands together.

Gilbert grinned. "Aww, babe," he cooed, leaning back against the back of the couch.

Roderich blushed; the only way that Gilbert could tell in the dimness was the way his shoulders stiffened, and the way he looked down and aside for a moment. "A gesture of thank you," he mumbled.

The embarrassed, tight-lipped frown on his face was enough to make Gilbert feel like his heart was quickly approaching the brim, and readying to overflow. He turned, reaching out and placing the mug he still held on the stand next to the other one. Then, he settled back, gently squeezed Roderich's hand, and swooped in to press their lips together.

Every kiss they shared had successfully made him feel like he was floating; dizzy and lightheaded, and emotional, and this one was certainly no different.

"You taste like apples," Roderich mumbled against his lips, sliding his hand up Gilbert's torso and snaking his arm around his neck. He pulled his hand out of the other's hold and brought his other arm up to join it as they leaned back in again.

"You taste like heaven," he murmured in reply, smirking as Roderich's mouth froze against his, and a familiar snort of amusement filled the space between them.

"You're… that was just…" Roderich turned his head away and bowed his head, shaking with laughter that he was barely able to suppress.

"Genius?" Gilbert supplied, angling down at kissing Roderich on the ear. He moved down as the other continued to laugh, grinning with his teeth against the fluttering pulse point. "Hilarious? Awesome?"

"Awful," Roderich said, biting his lip. He sighed, shaking his head. He moved away, twisting and reaching for one of the forgotten mugs. He balanced it, his, judging from how it'd been on the coaster, between his legs, and picked up the second one. "Your sense of humor is absolutely wretched. From those stupid puns you make to the cheesy nonsense you take from movies, you unoriginal moron."

"But I'm your unoriginal moron," Gilbert whined, gently bumping their foreheads together. He didn't yet take the mug, choosing instead to gently pinch Roderich's lower back. "And you love my sense of humor! You always laugh at my jokes, don't deny it."

"Drink your cider and shut up." Roderich shoved the mug at him, pausing briefly before giving him a peck on the lips before withdrawing and curling back under Gilbert's arm around his shoulder, taking a drink from his own cider.

Gilbert smiled, finding the behavior quite cute. Breathing a sigh of his own through his nose, he leaned his head against top of the the love of his life's, swallowing a long drought of his own drink, the warmth from the body beside him, the blankets, the drinks and the fireplace chasing away the cold that had chilled him some time ago.