Chapter Text
It’s always unbearably cold in the Apollon Media building, especially in Barnaby and Kotetsu’s office. Usually the rapid movement of his fingers gliding over his keyboard is enough to keep Barnaby from shivering and his hands from shaking, but today there is no computer work to be done. It’s all phone interviews, reading fan mail, and listening to a recording of Doctor Saito prattle on about some pointless additions to the suits. Barnaby has always been one to chill easily, and it’s so bad that not even his leather jacket and boots rising to mid-calf can keep the cold away. A tiny tremor racks his body and he holds himself tightly around the middle. Kotetsu notices.
“Ne, Bunny, you sick?”
Barnaby shakes his head firmly but Kotetsu pushes himself over to Barnaby’s desk anyway. As uncomfortable as those wheeled office chairs can be—Kotetsu swears there’s a lump in the back of his, though Barnaby always insists it’s only the old man’s back acting up—they’re mighty useful for propelling Kotetsu across the office and closer to his lover. He looks Barnaby over, eyes glancing from his red boots tapping on the floor to the blond’s bony hands rubbing his arms as he desperately tries to warm himself.
Kotetsu grins. “Lil’ Bunny’s cold?”
Barnaby sends a glare in Kotetsu’s direction. “It’s nothing to grin about. If you want to do something about it, go get me a cup of coffee from the cafeteria.” He can’t leave—the interviewer will be calling him in a few minutes and then who knows how long he’ll be stuck on the phone just suffering from the relentless air conditioning, and he knows his teeth will likely start chattering right in the middle of the interview—
“I know something better than coffee,” Kotetsu says as he glances up to check for their secretary’s watchful eyes. Fortunately, she’s stepped out for the moment, and Kotetsu feels no guilt about leaning down to wrap his arms sensually around the blond and, from that position, gently lace his fingers with Barnaby’s.
It’s amazing the warmth that Kotetsu manages to give off, and Barnaby feels like he’s been surrounded by the most comfortable, best-smelling blanket. He sighs in Kotetsu’s strong grasp and just drinks in the heat from the other man’s body, lightly squeezing Kotetsu’s hand and closing his eyes. Yes, this was much better than a mediocre cup of coffee from the cafeteria. And even when the secretary returns and Barnaby’s interviewer calls him, Barnaby and Kotetsu keep their hands clasped tightly for the rest of the day. Somehow, that small amount of contact manages to keep Barnaby warmer.