Donghae is cold as soon as they step off the plane in Heathrow. Mexico hadn’t been as warm as he expected, but it had still been warmer than Seoul and there’s something about London – like it stores up moonlight and fog during the night instead of charging on sunlight during the day. But it’s London and he doesn’t let the chill bother him until they’re checked into the hotel and jetlag starts to creep up and take over for the adrenaline he was running on.

He takes a warm shower to get his brain moving again, but that just makes him feel even colder when he steps out of the shower. He hops into clothes while his skin is still damp, his mother’s voice in the back of his head telling him he’s going to catch sick, but at least the shivers have died down.

“Why’s it so cold,” he whines, scrubbing a towel through his hair when he steps out into the room. Eunhyuk is sitting with his back to the pillows on one of the beds, thumbing through his phone. The empty expanse of the bedspread calls to him like an invitation. Donghae whines a little and slides up close to him, rubbing his palms on his arm to warm himself up.

“Because it’s London,” Eunhyuk says unhelpfully. Donghae wants to tell him he’s useless but he cuts himself off with a yawn. Eunhyuk looks at him calculatingly. “Didn’t you sleep on the plane?”

Donghae shakes his head and reaches for the hem of the soft-looking sweater Eunhyuk is wearing. It’s warm under there, but the second his fingers touch skin Eunhyuk yelps and scoots further back on the bed, grabbing Donghae’s wrists and holding them away from him. “What the hell! Your hands are like ice.”

“I told you, it’s cold!”

Eunhyuk just levels a stare at him. Then he brings Donghae’s wrists towards his sweater again, but this time he wraps the fabric around Donghae’s hands, curling his own fingers around them both to keep the fabric in place. He picks up his phone again with his free hand and resumes checking his email or whatever it is he was doing before.

Donghae’s hands are warming up, at least. He watches Eunhyuk’s face for a while, fighting back a smile.

“Hyukjae.”

“Hm?” he hums distractedly.

“Why is your sweater so big?”

It’s soft, dark grey and huge, hanging off Eunhyuk’s shoulders and pooling at his waist. The sleeves are long enough to cover his hands entirely if he wanted them to. He gives Donghae a flat look.

“Fashion, Donghae.”

Donghae wrinkles up his nose into a sneer and says, teasingly, “Anchovy.”

“Hey! Take that back. Or else!”

“Or else what?” Donghae laughs, strugging to keep his hands wrapped in the soft fabric when Eunhyuk drops both his hold on Donghae and his phone in affront.

“Or else I won’t share this sweater with you. Didn’t you bring any warm clothes?”

“Yes. But yours are better.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Eunhyuk says, but Donghae is close enough to see his cheeks pink a little, pleased. He lifts the hem of his sweater. “Here, let’s see if we fit.”

They don’t exactly. The crew neckline is too small for both of them, but Donghae fits his head and shoulders inside, feeling Eunhyuk laugh. It is very, very warm but stifling and awkward. Still, pressed up this close to Eunhyuk’s chest, Donghae can’t help but press a kiss into his skin. Eunhyuk squirms back shyly, which is ridiculous because in less than twelve hours he’ll be doing shirtless body rolls on stage in front of thousands and thousands of fans.

“Here, c’mon.” Eunhyuk lifts the hem back over Donghae’s head and ducks his own head through the collar. He opens the hem wide, pulling it over both their heads and shoulders.

Stretched over both of them, the sweater isn’t quite long enough to make it further than halfway down their backs. Donghae’s still wearing his long-sleeved shirt so Eunhyuk doesn’t object when Donghae wraps his arms low around his waist to keep the bare skin warm. He leans forward, tipping them over so Eunhyuk’s back is flat across the pillows.

There’s silence, blissfully warm. With a rustle of fabric, Eunhyuk pulls his arms out of the sleeves and settles them across Donghae’s back. His chest rises and falls, rises and falls underneath Donghae’s head. Donghae can feel Eunhyuk’s voice resonate when he speaks.

“We have checks soon. I have to get everyone together so we make it to the venue on time.”

Donghae hums.

“Seriously.” His voice is so close and quiet in the dim light under their shared sweater. “Five minutes, Lee Donghae.”

He hums again.

-

"Are you still in here? Shouldn’t we be –"

Kangin cuts himself off. He’d had to wheedle a room key out of a manger’s hand because he hadn’t seen anyone in the hall, so he couldn’t account for any of the others. If Eunhyuk was still in his room then so was Donghae, and… well, it was just safer this way.

Hadn’t really expected to find the two of them fast asleep, wrapped up in – is that a sweater?

He gapes, at a loss. There’s a phone lying close to them on the bed and Kangin hopes the ringer is on to wake them, because he’ll be damned if he has to wake them up himself and be the one who had to watch them untangle themselves.

“Idiots,” he mutters, and closes the door.