Snowed In

Snippet. More domesticity between Henry Coffey and Theophilus Essex.

250w. Just sweetness, rated T.

Snow was falling heavily outside, and it rested in a thick shelf on the window’s ledge, coming down in thick, white flakes and slowly sinking toward the ground: inside, two vampires were still abed.

Theophilus knew that it was no doubt freezing cold outside, and he softly groaned as he turned over, climbing on top of Henry and dropping his face to the flat of the other man’s chest, pulling the blankets over his head.

“Must we go to Agnes’ party?” came his question, softly pleading.

“No,” said Henry sleepily. “We’ll send her our regrets and stay in bed all day.”

“Henry,” Theophilus chided him. “We can’t do that.”

“You’re quite right, we must go.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Let’s not, then.”

“Henry.”

Henry turned them over, pinning Theophilus underneath him, and Theophilus hummed, but wrapped his arms and legs both around Henry’s body, pulling the other man more bodily on top of him and squeezing him tightly.

“Let’s discuss this later,” Henry suggested, laying a kiss on Theophilus’ chin. “When you find yourself more reasonable.”

Theophilus closed his eyes, sliding his fingers into Henry’s hair, and felt Henry’s warm cheek against his chest. Once upon a time, Henry had seemed so very cold to the touch — now, as cold as Theophilus ran himself, he felt so wonderfully warm.

“I don’t even like Agnes,” Henry said.

Theophilus laughed sleepily, and squeezed Henry tighter.

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