A Chill Autumn Night

It had been a long day at the campsite. Being right next to the ski hills, of course that was where Mokuba dragged his big brother. Well, he did not really need to drag him. Seto was very willing to go with his younger brother on all the hills. It was, after all, a vacation for the two of them.

Now, the fire had died down and their tent was cold. The hills they had been on did not have real snow, but it was getting to be chill enough for the white sparkles to truly fly. As this was the last night of their camping trip, the cold seemed extra bone-numbing, and toes quickly lost all feeling.

Mokuba kept tossing and turning in his sleeping bag. Seto had piled all the extra blankets on top of him, but the boy could not get warm. It must have been all the tumbling into the snow banks. Even his eyelashes still felt frozen together, and his hair was limp and wet.

Finally, everything was still. Mokuba hated breaking the silence, so he stopped squirming; instead, he listened to Seto's breathing. Already a few hours had passed, making it near one o'clock. Hearing his brother's breathing did not get him any warmer, but it did make Mokuba want to be even quieter. His brother did not usually sleep so soundly at night; some nights, he never slept at all.

Carefully, the boy inched his sleeping bag, blankets, and self over the cold tent bottom, coming to a halt right next to his brother.

All was quiet and dark. No crickets were still alive to sing, and no streetlights infiltrated the campsite this far in. Unburying his head, Mokuba struggled to see anything at all.

Gradually, his eyes adjusted, and he could see where his brother was. Another fit of trembling went through Mokuba's thin frame, and he decided to do it.

He had to be careful; awaken his brother, and Mokuba was certain Seto would not be happy. Slowly, he unzipped his sleeping bag, and then broke his hand free of the pyramid of blankets. Just out in the quiescent air, his hand turned into ice. Still, he listened to be sure Seto was sleeping. From his brother came only the sound of soft breaths.

Hand fumbling at the next zipper, Mokuba struggled to keep his hand steady and sounds minimal. Zzzzzziiiiiiiiiiiiipppppppp. His brother's bag was opened and heat was escaping into the air. Very quickly, Mokuba scooted from under his pile of frosty covers to his brother's living warmth. Once he was shoved up against Seto, Mokuba swiftly zipped the bag back up.

Already, his eyes drooped as sleep came over him. His brother's chest was rising and falling, and within the bag, it was plenty warm.

Seto's eyes flickered open, awakened from the thud of Mokuba ramming into him. His younger brother's wet hair was uncomfortable on his arm, soaking through his clothes, but Mokuba was already asleep. One of Seto's arms was going numb from where the boy rested on it.

Sighing, Seto felt his brother's nose, confirming the reason for his being there when he felt only an icy cartilage appendage.

"Mokuba?"

There was no answer. Seto slowly maneuvered himself around so that he was facing his brother on his side. In response, the sleeping boy turned so that he was curled up in his brother's arms, safe and warm at last.

Hidden in the darkness of the night and assured that his brother was sleeping, Seto smiled and prepared to go back to sleep, grateful his brother was not frightened to show affection. Then he, too, could show it back.

-End-

Author Note: Yes, I apologize that Mokuba acts so young here...but it's cute!