warmth
it isn't uncommon for the apartment's heating to break down; between the three roommates and their less than stable occupations they hadn't managed to get anywhere fancy, sacrificing maybe a little more reliable building for more space. so, maybe the suffering is their own fault. it doesn't stop the complaints.
presently, yifan’s relying more on wes’ body heat for warmth than the room itself, pressed against his side under a soft blanket, curled up on the couch to retain as much heat as possible. it's not uncommon for them to be so close, either, but it's rarely so casually and innocently, and yifan's cheeks tint from more than the flush of warmth.
he hears a sigh of content from the head rested under his own, nose brushing over the man's hair as his head turns to peek down at him. “you're warm,” westley murmurs, pressing his cheek into yifan's chest as he buries closer. a fond smile pulls at his lips and he gives in, arms winding around the smaller man’s waist to purposely pull him closer, tugged half onto his lap. he muffles a laugh against his hair at the surprised sound that follows, before the body in his arms relaxes and pushes closer.
maybe their shabby apartment really isn't so bad.
(it only takes him a few more minutes to give in further, excuses of only conserving heat gone. a few minutes after that and he loses track of where he finishes and westley starts, from their lips joined in slow, sweet kisses to tangled calves and ankles.)
