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    Fit startles awake, chilled to the bone. The Quesadilla Circus had recently traveled to the Antarctic Empire per their agreement with King Technoblade: an annual contract meant to boost the nation's tourism during the Winter Solstice.

    Despite his years of travel, Fit had never made it this far south before. Most of his time was spent in the swealtering heat of the Wastes, in Vaccus, even more temperate locations, but nothing this cold. 

    He tries not to shiver as he gains more awareness of his surroundings. Grey moonlight filters through the gaps in the curtains lining the caravan window. Shoved against the other wall, Pac sleeps soundly, arm draped over his face as he softly snores. Fit gazes at him fondly- wait, what?- before he shakes the chill off and rises from his bed to find more blankets. The floor, despite the rug tossed over the center of it, is even colder than the air around him. He needs to make this a quick mission if he doesn't want to freeze to death. Fit ducks down to the lowest cabinet to grab one of the caravan's extra blankets, and subsequently smacks his head on the shelf as he starts to get up. 

    "Mm... Fitchi?" Pac mumbles and turns over, clearly still half asleep. Fit slings the blanket over his shoulder to free up his arm and try and soothe the bump on his head. He attempts to muffle the hiss that escapes him, the pressure only aggravating the pain.

    "Fit, tudo bem?" Pac has fully sat up now. Despite his now growing headache, Fit can't help but watch Pac slowly wake up, stretching out and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

    "Yeah- yeah Pac, I'm fine." He may have stretched the truth a bit, but Fit's definitely handled worse. "Just being clumsy, that's it. No big deal, nothing's wrong."

    "Oh, do you want help?" He's already shedding his blankets and grabbing his crutches before Fit can respond.

    "I'm fine! You don't have to get up, I can handle it," Fit protests, but once Pac has his mind made up, it's a useless fight.

    "Não. Sit, Fitch," he order as he stares him down. Fit totally doesn't flush at the command. "Let me look at your head!"

    "Calma, calma! I'm sitting, jeez," he replies as he perches on the edge of his bed. Pac approaches, stabilizing himself on Fit's good shoulder as he leans his crutches against the wall.

    "Hm... can you- can you move your head down?" He gestures to Fit, and he complies. If he's blushing from the proximity of Pac's face to his, no he isn't. Pac places his hand on the crown of his head, applying gentle pressure until Fit winces away from the pain.

    "Mmm, okay. There's no bruise, but I'm gonna get some snow," he moves to grab his crutches again, making his way towards the door, "For the pain, you know?"

    "You're too kind to me, Pac," Fit sighs. Despite his overbearing nature, he can't help feeling thankful for his roommate's care.

    Pac opens the door with a loud gasp. Fit jolts out of his relaxed state. "You okay?"

    "Sim, sim!" He turns his face to him, eyes wide and sparkling with moonlight, "Fitchi, it's snowing! Come see!" Despite the chill quickly taking over the caravan, Fit rises to join him at the door. There's been snow covering the ground since the circus' arrival, but he still hasn't seen his first snowfall. He huddles close to Pac- only for his body heat, of course!- and immediately understands all of the excitement. 

    "Oh, wow. It's beautiful..." The sky has turned an almost bright grey color, the moonlight reflecting through the many snow clouds. Fat flakes drift down through the air and land near soundless on the frozen ground. I don't think I've ever heard a silence this soft before. 

    "It is." He turns his attention back to Pac, having gotten lost in the calm of the storm. Pac, however, isn't watching the snowfall. Instead, he's gazing adoringly at Fit, eyes half lidded and a grin as soft as the snow. Fit can only hope he can't see his blush in the low light. 

    He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "Thank you, Pac..." For the snow, for the compliment, for your kindness. 

    "Anything for you, Fitch." With those words, Pac leans in closer. He reaches his arms around Fit's waist, burying his face in the crook of his neck. The older tries not to shiver as Pac exhales, breath warming his skin. He wraps his own arm around Pac's shoulder, allowing himself to relish in the closeness of the other man. 

    Through the excitement and other unnamed feelings, Fit had forgotten entirely about his headache. As his focus returns to his body, the pain returns in full force. He doesn't shift much, but Pac still senses his movement and let's him go. 

    "Oh, your head!" He balances and bends down through the doorway. The freshly fallen snow melts easily in his hands. 

    "Fit, I need a towel, por favor" He turns back to the cabinets, luckily the ones higher up on the wall, and retrieves a dish towel for Pac. When he returns, Pac scoops the snow into it.

    "There! For you," he hands the bundle of cloth to Fit and stands back up. He flashes another grin at Fit- is he dizzy from the pain, or from Pac's dazzling smile?

    "Obridgado, Pac." With the wind blowing through the open door and the chill of the pack on his scalp, Fit can't help the shiver that escapes him. Pac quickly shuts the door.

    "Are you cold? That's why you needed the blanket, yeah?" Fit manages a nod before Pac wraps a hand around his bicep, gently tugging him towards his own bed. 

    "Take it easy!" Fit lets out a nervous chuckle. Pac climbs into the bed, scooting himself all the way to the wall. He pats the open spot next to him.

    "C'mon, Fitch," he looks at him expectantly.

    "You takin' me to bed, Pac?"

    "Sim. Get in, big daddy."

    "Woahhh, calma!" They both laugh lightly at the exchange. Fit wouldn't admit to anyone of the butterflies in his stomach, even if the implications were a joke.

    He complies either way. He's just doing it to preserve his body heat, right? Fit slides in next to Pac, who is already dozing off again. He balances the towel on his head and tugs the blankets up to his chin, fighting off the chill as fast as he can. Just as he settles, Pac slings his arm over his chest.

    "C'mere," he mumbles into Fit's shoulder, "need to get warm..." And Fit certainly is now. The flames in his heart seem to warm him from the inside out.

    "Thank you, Pac," he whispers mostly to himself, trying not to disturb the younger as he drifts back to sleep. He must have been more awake then he thought, as he cranes his neck to peck Fit on the cheek.

    "Boã noite.." he murmurs into his skin. Pac settles again against his side. Fit couldn't be more awake now, but with the world so silent around him and Pac guarding him with his warmth, he returns to sleep.