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This wasn’t the plan.
Andrew was sitting on the edge of the couch, bundled up and wrapped in a thick mass of sweaters and a single, large coat. Neil was bent down in front of him, wrapping a rather horrendously patterned scarf around his neck. Meanwhile, Neil's scarf was strewn and left forgotten on the floor in the favor of securing Andrews. Andrew bit inside his cheek, deciding to chide his fool of a husband later on the matter when he starts to complain about the wind hitting his face. He huffed and looked forward, focusing on the corner of the coffee table. Neil pursed his lips, fighting a smile.
“Better safe than sorry ‘Drew.” Neil got the knot done and stepped back with a satisfied hum, beaming at his handiwork.
Andrew was suddenly keenly aware that his attire wasn’t the only thing making him feel clammy. Neil was dressed considerably lighter. He sported a turtle neck, courtesy of Andrews closet, only noticeable from the loose collar that fit tight around his own. It was followed by a fluffy coat, normally long past his calf but only reaching slightly above the knee for Neil. Andrew hated when Neil wore his clothes, be it intentional or not. He blamed the catastrophic amount of sweaters coating him for creating the familiar warmth in his chest this time. Andrew couldn’t waft away the thought that it tended to blossom in the face of the red-headed menace only concerned for his well being rather than his own.
Well, really, he could claim the beginning effects of heart disease, if only to get out of this endeavour.
It began this morning. Andrew had woken up in shivers, the bed uncharacteristically vacant. He was displeased, as his human furnace was currently not siddled up next to him. Really, what did he marry the man for. Wrapping the blanket closer to himself in attempt to salvage any warmth, he ended up prying his eyes open. Reluctantly, Andrew grabbed his charging phone, opened it and checked the time.
Six a.m, on a Saturday, oh how lovely.
Uncaring of anything besides getting back into bed, he released his hold of the phone, allowing it to just descend and hit the floor. It’s clattering startled a silhouette standing by the drawn windows. Andrew was immediately taken by the shadow of the man, watching for his next move. Old age has done him no favors in the mellowing of his awareness. Safety and comfort really did a number on him. A curtain was pulled back, revealing the bare body of his significant other. Neil's gaze was distant, peering out at the white, fluffy masses of snow that had fallen on the ground overnight.
Andrew couldn’t look away. He let his eyes process the scene in front of him.
The soft white light was settling on Neil’s torso, casting a saturated glow over his body. The scars cascading over his exposed arms, face and torso were shadowed, giving them an otherworldly depth to the unmarred parts of his skin. Neil gleamed a lavender pearl in the pale shine of the light reflecting off the snow. The whole thing was a rather serene picture Andrew has painted into the sacred parts of his unforgiving memory.
After an eternity, Neil eased a glance over his shoulder. The light trailed his movement and bled onto the bed top, cascading a rhythm on the sheets. Andrew couldn’t ignore the symphony his heart played at the sight of his lovers smile that resembled silk, outlined by the shade.
“Staring.”
And there goes the moment. Andrew turned on his back, clutching a pillow to his face and mentally groaned. The smug fucker, never one to keep his mouth shut or catch a hint after all these years. He can practically feel what’s coming as the telltale sign of pitter patter and rustling warned the approach of a mischievous red-head. He promptly ignores him, trading the pillow from his face to the one facing him.
“No.”
“I haven’t said a single word.” His words muffled by the pillow.
“Now you’ve said six. Goodbye Neil.”
Andrew pushed his hand into Neil's face via pillow and gently pushed him away before wrapping himself completely into the blanket. He took a deep breathe before settling in the warmth, until he felt something prod his back.
Poke.
“Do it again and you will lose your hand Mr.Minyard-Josten.” Andrew popped the top of his head out of the blanket, resembling a rather disgruntled hippopotamus and glared at his pouting husband.
Neil put his hands up in a sign of what Andrew interprets as a truce.
“‘Drew. You saw the snow. It’s completely fresh and no one’s out and about right now.” Andrew scrunched his nose. If he says no now, yes, he’ll get in a few more hours of sleep but he’ll see that stupid longing and kicked puppy look that makes his heart wrench until tomorrow morning, where this will repeat until probably spring.
He pretended to think about it. “No.”
Neil groans loud and obnoxious, impatient and melodramatic as he is. Andrew rolled his eyes, ditched the blanket with a scowl at the burst of cold that seeped down to his bones. He took a second to adjust and then swung his legs over the edge.
“Don’t care.”
“So? Same time tomorrow?”
“I hate you.”
“Yes, yes ‘Drew, you’ll probably wear that out 20 more times by the time we reach the door.”
Andrew ignored that particular statement, not deeming it true nor denying it and turned his back to Neil to open the closet. He shifted through the clothing and stopped when his hand brushed an over-sized coat. It belonged none other to the other puppy in their lives, Matt Boyd. Sliding a tongue over his teeth, Andrew contemplated. He thought back to the particular words that came with the coat.
“Imagine, my dear, the glistening tales the snow offers, untainted by the foot of man and ripe for the taking as it’s first calling comes to. All yours to do what you’d like with it.” Matt had clung Neil close to himself by shoulder, using the other hand to flicker in front of nothing, as if the snow would materialize right in the living room. How dramatic, Andrew deemed them a match-made in heaven as he watched the scene unfold and transition as Boyd draped the large coat over Neil.
“Enjoy the winter buddy, send me pictures of your adventures out in the sea of white. Take this, as a token, for your escapade and imagine it’s me giving you a great big warm hug.” Their wide smiles were all teeth at the silliness Boyd showcased and enveloped Neil in a hug that ended up swinging. Neil had a light shining in his eyes, evident when he was set down and Boyd was taking his leave after a visit to update them on his life happenings.
“I don’t want to hear a single bright idea from you.”
“I wasn’t going to share them with you yet anyways.” And oh how his smile was telling of the near future events. Andrew couldn’t help but kiss it off his face in the meantime just to drift from the topic. And maybe because seeing Neil so excited and fascinated by the mere idea of a snowy winter was intoxicating and beyond contagious.
And that, has led them into the current predicament of rolling Andrews puffy, warm body, out the door. They were met with a swift wind and a pour of chill. Andrew shivered and Neil took the liberty of taking the first step into the clear clean snow. The morning silence broke with a crisp crunch of the breaking snow, followed by more as Neil took more tentative steps. He broke out into a run, laughing with glee at the freedom to enjoy the snow as he pleased, not having it be just a nuisance to their travels on the run, causing colds and delay and inevitable abuse.
Andrew redirected his discomfort of his current predicament due to the joy of his idiot, to the cold trickling into his body. His entire face up to the tip of his ears blossomed with the touch of cherry as he was kissed by the frigid air. He huffed, reveling in the temporary warmth offered as it batted against his scarf, suddenly thankful for Neil's posturing. He absolutely, positively hated the fucking cold. But no, no no no, not as much as he hated the dumbass who was now literally, down on the ground, face first in the snow.
“I really hope you’re laying in dog piss.” His comment was met with a loud Pah! as Neil rose his head and exhaled a puff of air, chuckling like a drunk man. He turned his head and smiled in his direction, which Andrew met with a sneer.
“Yeah? Bet you’d still kiss me though.” Motherfucker.
“Not in your fucking life. Get up. We’re done. You rolled in the fresh snow like a newborn puppy courtesy of Boyd and I’m over freezing my ass off.” To prove his point, he turned as much as he could with his whompy, fat coated form. When Andrew didn’t hear any crunching following, he tsked and swiveled back around, ready to scold Neil. He stopped short of opening his mouth and raised an eyebrow. Neil was harshly pounding snow into a mound in front of him. Teeth clenched, he readied himself to make the tread down to the front of the yard. Andrew waddled until he was in front of the sorry excuse of entertainment Neil had busied himself with.
“Neil,” He nudges the mound with his soggy, snow clodden boot. “Why.”
“I’m making a snowman.”
“You’re doing it wrong.”
“Liar.”
Andrew scoffed, “That's bright coming from you.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
Andrew sighed through his nose and rubbed his hands before shedding Boyd's coat, giving him the ability to squat down, coats creaking with each action. He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow, concentrating as he stuck his hands into the layers of white below him. He grabbed a handful of snow, packed it tightly before walking over, and dropped it on Neil's mound.
“Roll it.”
Neil did as told, settling into a crouch and doing a sort of mini frog hop as he pushed the ball around the yard. The ball was getting considerably larger and Neil was ecstatic. Andrew relaxed, watching Neil push his ball of snow until he was satisfied with the size. Andrew wanted to judge the childish glint swirling in Neil's eyes but.
He couldn’t bring himself to.
Biting a chunk of cheek, Andrew stood there, nonchalant, content with watching Neil until their eyes met. He had a challenge in his eyes.
“Aren’t going to join me and show me how it’s done oh Ice king?”
Well.
Not giving him the satisfaction of a reply, Andrew grabbed and packed his own set of snow, and got to work. And, maybe, if Andrew is caught with a bit of a lilt to his lips and sweat on his temple, no one has to know.
it was an overall silent process, besides the crushing of snow below their feet, each man hopping and sliding across the yard until they had their own respective snowballs stacked into a pile of three. Neil stared at his until he gestured one finger in lieu of “wait” and ran inside.
With Neil gone for the moment, Andrew spectated the snowmen in front of him. Neil’s was unfairly taller than his, maybe even taller than himself. Andrew had half the mind to push it over in spite, but he decided against the destructive urge in favor of sticking a jagged rock into the second mound so it was jut out where a normal human heart rests. Satisfied with his small act of malice and immaturity, he waited until Neil approached with hoard of a variety of silverware, various buttons and two carrots in hand.
“Ah yes, who knew that stupid nutrition list would come in handy this day.” Andrew flicked the tip of the carrot, treating it as if it was an offense to his very nature, and stuck it roughly into the face of his snowman. That set them in motion and Neil scoffed as he noticed the rock sticking out of his snowman, leaving it there and working around it.
The finished product was amusing, albeit horrendous. Andrews snowman had a lopsided “fool” spelled on the 3rd and biggest sphere. The first had a dopey smile and crooked eyes looking off in different directions. It had a cluster of tiny twigs he snatched from the ground where Neil's signature scars laid on his face. A wooden salad spork and metal ladle stuck out the sides as sorry excuses for arms. Andrew was aghast until he looked over and saw the snowman Neil had decorated, putting his to shame.
Neil's snowman had a deep frown that wasn’t far from Andrews current expression. The eyes were looking forward and the forks meant as ‘brows’ were casted downward. The arms, a whisk and spatula, weren’t in the traditional, stuck out from the side and open, but crossed together on the second sphere in a manner of a familiar gesture. Neil contemplated his work, his arms crossed in an almost mimicry of the snowman.
“You know, under the jurisdiction of artistic interpretation, I should’ve watched how big I was making these balls. Only as a snowman, there’d be the liberty of you ever being this tall from the ground.” Andrew granted him a mustered up beyond unamused glance to match Neil’s unfathomable grin.
Done with the theatrics, Neil stepped closer. He brushed a few askew hairs aside and blew an icy puff of air into Andrews face, which caused him to close his and scrunch it. He held undeniably still as his face was met with warm breaths. Andrew opened his eyes and met Neil's. Neil, the fucker, leaned down and graced his scrunched nose with a kiss. Before he could inch away, Andrew slid a hand, betraying the warmth of his pockets and met the frigid air to rest it gently on Neil's marred cheek. Andrew stroked fingers along the oh so cold skin, tracing Neil's high cheeks and melting his hand into his curls. His hand paused at the back of his scalp and Neil slumped forward, relaxing his forehead on Andrews. Despite the cold, the contact made his skin practically seethe, familiar with the warmth that just wouldn’t leave his chest.
“Let’s head back inside.” Andrew whispered, their frozen breaths intertwining into a single cloud. Neil didn’t have to respond, he only dragged his hand down to Andrews side. Andrew drew no hesitance in releasing Neil’s head in favor of enveloping their hands together.
Just before they both headed back inside, Neil uttered a little oh! Still holding his hand, refusing to let go of Andrew, Neil turned back to his snowman. His body blocked Andrews view, but it wasn’t long before Neil was finished and showcased his adjustments. The spatula and whisk were now uncrossed, but it had a long enough reach to where it clacked against the end of the wooden salad spork on Andrew's snowman. Andrew silently fixated on the kitchen utensils and after several seconds he back up at his husband. Neil was softly smiling at the snowmen, and Andrew decided to keep his wit to himself. Neil can come back into the freezing cold once dinner needed to be made and his beloved utensils were gaining frost.
Quietly, hand in hand, they strolled up to their door.and entered the comfort of their home. But, flushed by the stuffy heat, Neil was disoriented and nearly tripped and brought them both down on their purring cats who tried to make a break out the door. Andrew casually carried them with his foot and shut the door with his elbow. Before venturing further into their den and ridding of their coats, Neil brought up their intertwined hands, causing Andrew to pause. His hot breath tickled Andrews knuckles which was sated with the jolt of Nei's lips gracing their ridges. Andrew hummed, sliding his hand under Neil’s chin, and locking it with his.
Settled back into their home, Andrew met back with Neil in a long sleeve and fluffy pajama pants in the kitchen, where two cups of hot chocolate were sitting on the island counter, waiting. They grabbed their respective mugs, both gifts from Nicky that have a print of the same line “My husband is hotter than my coffee.” Neil's sports a chip on the rim from accidently knocking it off the coffee table in one of their early morning makeout sessions.
Andrew sits in the middle of the couch and Neil waits until he settles before he sat with his back to the arm, legs draped over Andrews. They sipped their hot chocolate, soaking in the warmth and comfort of one another. The cats eventually climbed up and joined them, nestling in the crooks of the couch and their limbs. Andrew slid his hand up Neils leg to perch it on top of Neil's thigh, palm up in offering. Neil set his mug down on the coffee table, and wrapped both his hands in Andrews. They spent the rest of the night like this, tranquil and calm lounging with each other.
What more could they ever need.