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“Augh!” Jinki screams as he’s pelted in the face by a snowball the size of a fist. He falls to his back and sinks into the snow. The dark blue snow pants with the yellow stripe and matching parka his mother zipped him in that morning keep him from feeling any of the dampness. Instead, he just enjoys the way the snow crunches as he struggles back up onto his winter booted feet.
Minho’s crouched down and making fresh snowballs in a pile at his knees. His movements are made awkward by gloves that are a size too large because he couldn’t find his own and he’d had to borrow his brothers. Dark curls poke out from beneath a dark red cap that Jinki’s mom knit him and Jinki kneels down as best he can in his snow pants and balls up a sphere of snow and throws it at his friend.
“Augh!” Minho screams as his hat is nearly knocked off his head. The rules their moms made were “No shots above the shoulders” which should have been easy enough to follow but have been broken now five times. All three perfect balls he has at his knees he now throws at Jinki’s back as his friend runs across the yard.
Another hour passes of screaming and rule-breaking, ice crystals melting on cheeks and barely missing eyes, the evidence melting away before it can be caught by the adults inside who are only half-watching the children playing in the yard. They build a snow fort and snow explorers and snack on their chosen method of art along the way.
It will become a tradition that plays out through the years, a memory they build off of that they won’t realize the significance of until it’s been ten years since they were ten and they’re now still friends and yet more.
Today Jinki’s in gray thermal pants under jeans that Minho scoffed at as he pointed out that “They soak up moisture and get heavy and you complain about it every year”. Jinki had pretended he hadn’t heard which had irritated Minho which had suited Jinki just fine because an irritated Minho was the perfect opponent: Careless.
His parka is still dark blue and it crinkles in the crisp winter air as he runs through the snow and ducks behind a tree. He peeks out from behind the snow-splattered bark just in time to see the red of Minho’s cap disappear behind another tree a few yards away. The snow crunches beneath his boots as he creeps across the fresh snow, a snowball in each hand, and he’s nearly reached the tree when he’s hit in the face and momentarily blinded by two blobs of ice. Minho’s laugh of victory is his target and he throws his own towards it, grinning when he hears his boyfriend shriek.
An hour later they’re on the futon in their studio apartment in boxers with Christmas trees and candy canes that they gifted each other last year. Jinki’s lying down and wrapped up in an afghan his mother made them, a soft green and blue that reminds him of the ocean, so that it’ll be warm when Minho joins him after making them cocoa on the tiny stove. Their clothes hang up in the bathroom and their hair is still damp from a shared shower.
“Don’t forget to turn off the oven,” Jinki murmurs from where he lies. The TV is on but the volume is off. Minho’s insisted on watching a Christmas movie.
“You’re the one who forgets,” Minho counters. Jinki blows a raspberry. There sound of metal clinking against ceramic and the click of a knob herald the end of Minho’s time in the kitchen and Jinki sits up and lifts the blanket so that his boyfriend can join him on the sofa.
“Don’t drink it too soon,” Minho warns, “there wasn’t any milk.”
“You could have just used cold water,” Jinki points out.
“Go outside and get some snow.” He squeals when Jinki kisses his neck.
The mug in his hand is placed on the card table they use for dining and as a coffee table in front of the futon. The one in Jinki’s hand is stolen and placed there before he climbs into Jinki’s lap. “Don’t do things like that with hot beverages around! It’s a waste of cocoa and someone could get hurt! And it makes a mess!”
“Sorry,” Jinki murmurs unapologetically as his fingertips graze up Minho’s sides. His boyfriend twists in his lap and pushes his hands away with a laugh. “Since we have to wait for the cocoa to cool off…”
Minho laughs again as he falls back off of Jinki’s lap onto the futon next to him. He takes Jinki’s face in both hands and gives him a soft kiss.