He will resent that description if Klaus ever calls him a raccoon out loud, fitting as it might be. Five would also argue that he isn't cuddling, he's just lying there close to his brother because he's warm and it's practical. A totally different thing.

There's a small, almost unnoticeable content sound coming out of his lips once the knit wrap is covering him and after a little while he stops shivering. After that, there's no further shifting and it looks like they can both get some much-needed rest. Five can't tell how much time passes, could be a few minutes, could be almost an hour, but when he turns on his sleep his right arms connects with something. It's harder than the clothes and blankets he buried himself under and his brain realizes something's not right as he blinks slowly. Someone's in the bed with him.

His eyes, only minutes ago foggy with sleep and disorientation, snap open. He pulls himself away from the other in an alarmed rush, back hitting the wall and making him hiss in pain and curse under his breath.