Prompt: It's movie night, but it's freezing, so they collect all the blankets and comforters and build a nest on the couch and snuggle and eat dessert uwu

for anon

Cuddling on the couch with a disgruntled Pyroar is the best way to warm up.
As a side note, this entire chapter started when I imagined Sycamore saying "It's cold as balls".

"It's freezing!" Augustine complained, shivering over on his side of the couch.

"Well, maybe if you'd chosen to wear something warmer than that ridiculous shirt—"

"Hey! This shirt is very stylish, I'll have you know! Just look at this fabulous collar!"

"Stylish or not," Lysandre replied, restraining himself from commenting further on Augustine's 'style', "it is clearly far too thin for these kinds of temperatures. Don't you have any warmer clothes?"

Augustine pouted. "I did, but you forbade me from wearing them in your presence."

"They were Christmas sweaters, Augustine. Christmas sweaters. Ugly, hideous monstrosities that should—"

"—be set on fire and left to burn, so that you will never have to suffer from their hideousness blinding your eyes ever again, yeah, yeah, I know. So here I am, tragically sweater-less and freezing in your lovely home. Can't you turn up the heat or something?"

"No."

"But, Lysaaaannnddreeee—"

"No."

"Fine," said Augustine, crossing his arms and turning away with a huff.

For a few moments it was silent, save for the sounds of the television.

"Lysandre…"

He sighed. "Yes, Augustine?"

"It's cold."

"Augustine."

"Cold as balls."

"Don't be vulgar."

"But I'm cold!" Augustine whined, rubbing his arms theatrically.

"Deal with it."

"Fine!"

And with that, Lysandre had one shivering, lanky professor plastered to his side, sighing in contentment as he hugged Lysandre's arm to his chest.

"…What are you doing?" he asked, completely nonplussed.

"What does it look like? You said 'deal with it', so I'm dealing with it!"

"By doing…what, exactly?"

"Gravitating towards a heat source, of course!" said Augustine, laying his head on Lysandre's shoulder and snuggling up to him. "Mmm, warm…"

"I am not your personal heater, Augustine," said Lysandre, doing his best to sound completely unamused.

"You are now!" Augustine replied cheerfully, curling up and pressing his body even closer. "Aaahhhh…I always knew you were secretly a Pyroar…"

"Augustine, you're being ridicu—"

"Shush, Pyroar," Augustine commanded, stuffing an apple strudel into Lysandre's half-open mouth. "Eat your dessert and cuddle with me."

""I do not cuddle," said Lysandre after he'd removed the offending pastry from his mouth.

"Awww, why not?" Augustine cooed, nuzzling into the fur on Lysandre's collar. "Big fuzzy Pyroar like you, you're just perfect for snuggling with."

Lysandre sighed, resigning himself to being subjected to this unusual form of torment for the rest of the movie at the very least, and leaned over to pull a blanket out from a basket underneath the couch.

"You had a blanket this whole time and you didn't tell me?"

"Hush, tree," said Lysandre, draping the blanket over the both of them, "or I'll set you on fire."

"Ooh, sound exciting! Just how do you plan to light me up then, hmm? Are you going to use the flames of your 'burning passion'?"

"Augustine," he chided, feeling his cheeks warming slightly despite himself.

"Fine, fine," Augustine said with a laugh, sliding his arms around Lysandre's waist and squeezing like he was some sort of oversized stuffed toy. "Mmm…so warm…and cuddly…I think I could just fall asleep…"

"Don't you dare."

"Mmm…" Augustine sighed, ignoring him completely as he snuggled up happily to Lysandre's broad chest.

Lysandre made a put-upon face, but there was no one around to see it, anyway.

And if his arm just happened to slip around Augustine's shoulders as he drifted off? Well…there was no one around to see that, either.