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“Clive! Wake up, Clive!”
Pulled from dreams, Clive feels tiny hands in his tunic, shaking him awake. Foggily he cracks open his eyes, to see his brother, right up in his face—most likely checking to see if he had awakened.
“Wha—” his voice feels thick and raspy from sleep. Clive sits up, and the tiny hands still jostle him. Worry is the first thought, as it often is with Joshua. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s snowing!” Blearily Clive looks to his window, and it’s crusted with snow. He can see a thick layer covering the courtyard—just barely though, as dawn has only just crested the sky. He yawns, and doesn’t even bother trying to cover it.
“So it is.” Clive falls back onto his bed, and immediately closes his eyes to return to sleep. He’s still so tired and sore from his training yesterday, and he is not getting up at dawn on his recovery day.
“Get up, Clive. Let’s go play!” Clive feels fingers poke at his cheek. Clive bats them away, and rubs off the crust of dried drool on his chin with his knuckles while he’s at it.
“Let’s make a snowman! I need you to put the head on top, I can’t reach it.” Incessant chatter and wiggling is making it very difficult to sleep. Clive grumbles out a sound, and with deft hands he snakes his arms around his little brother’s waist. He hauls him under the covers while Joshua squeals. He does not often say no to Joshua, but this really sounds so much better.
“It’s too early, Joshua. Let’s sleep in,” Clive mumbles, settling Joshua on top of his middle, his hands on his waist and himself on his back. While Clive closes his eyes, Joshua rests his hands on his chest, setting his chin on top of them. Clive can feel him staring, but that doesn’t bother him at all.
There is a movement, and Clive feels the soft, dry press of lips to his cheeks. He does not stir. There is a pause, and he feels it again, on the other cheek, then on his nose—then, his lips. Clive cracks open an eye.
“Still trying to wake me?”
“Is it working?” Joshua is pink-cheeked and smiling, his head tilted and resting on his knuckles.
“Not in the slightest.” It’s cute, that he thinks he’ll win this. His hands still on his little waist, Clive hooks a leg around him and flips their positions, laying on top of Joshua, his little brother smothered by the elder and the thick blankets. Clive sighs, and settles in, content on victory.
“Brother, I can’t breathe,” he hears a little voice muffled from underneath him. Clive adjusts his positioning a bit, snuggling down comfortably.
“I’ll die,” Joshua whines. Clive makes a content sound, warm and cozy on his bed—and brother.
Little fingers pinch the meat of his thigh, but Clive does not so much as make a sound. Joshua wriggles out from under him, just a big lump under his blankets that shuffles out at the end of the bed, sliding out of view. Clive can feel it though, when Joshua pads to the head of the bed and stares at him.
“I’ll show you,” he hears him huff, before his door creaks open and closed.
Peace, at last. He’d prefer Joshua to have joined him, but he’ll take it. Founder, is Clive still tired. He would give Joshua anything—his time, his protection, his life—but sleeping in is sacred. Clive is sore from his pursuit in being a Shield worthy of his brother, and surely he deserves this much.
At ease and warm in his bed, Clive is nearly asleep when he feels his brother scoot back on his bed. He tries to say something, but mostly just mumbles a soft sound, light and pleased—he always slept the best when his brother was in his arms. He radiated heat, like Clive’s own personal bedside hearth. Yes, sleeping in on a chilly morning with his brother sounded just lovely—he’s glad he’s given in.
He reaches a hand around, seeking the Phoenix’s warmth, only to let out a screech. His tunic is pulled up and something cold is pressed against his lower back.
Clive jolts up, and whips his head around to see his brother sat on his bed, one arm full of snow and the other holding a handful, just slightly melted from Clive’s body heat. He’s giving Clive such a radiant smile, one more fitting of an angel than the devil he is.
“Joshua,” Clive rasps, voice full of betrayal.
“You’re awake! Let’s go outside.”
“Joshua,” Clive grounds out, but his brother’s grin only widens.
“Are you mad? You can get me back,” he begins to walk backwards, towards Clive’s door.
“If you can catch me!”
Before he’s even done speaking, quickly Clive is stumbling out of his sheets, jumping over the bundle when they fall over the door. He’s on his heels in no time, ready for revenge.
Joshua is running down the hall, towards the exit to the courtyard, and Clive rounds the corner after him, chasing the sound of breathless giggles.