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After a particularly heavy bout of snow had descended on Detroit overnight, Hank looked at his back garden and despaired.
“Shit’s choking up my flowers.”
“Uh…” Connor, who was stood beside him at the window, looked outside with confusion. “What flowers?”
“Exactly. They’re buried under all that snow. Not like I’m any amazing gardener or anything… But I liked being able to see the two plants I’d bought.”
“I don’t mean to be rude—but aren’t they going to be dead now?”
“Nah. They’re tough fuckers, and they’re in pots alright so I can go out there and pull them outta the snow.” Yet, despite his words, he didn’t move, only sighing. “But…”
“But…?”
“I can’t be fucked to do it.”
“Oh. Will your plants be alright if you leave them there for a bit?”
“Nah. They’re getting’ crushed right now. They’ll be dead soon.”
“Oh. What about… what about I go out and help you move them?”
“Uh… you don’t got to. Guess this is just what I get for thinking I can look after something other than myself.” He laughed. Sumo stared at him, huffing.
“No. Come on, Hank. It’ll be fun. It’s… snowing. In December. We’ve already put up the Christmas decorations.”
Hank grumbled, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess so…”
“It’ll be festive. Now: just tell me, what’s the worst part about going outside?”
“Cold. Wet, the snow’ll get everywhere and it’ll take ages to clean up again afterwards.”
“Then we can wear layers.” Connor answered. “And coats, and set out bags by the door so that when we come in, we can just drop them inside and get changed.”
“Damn, you really want me to go and move those plants?”
“You want to, Hank.”
“Ugh. Fine. But you’re coming with me.” He trudged back to his room to grab the coats and gear needed, grumbling all the way. Behind him, Connor grinned.
***************************************
And, once they were outside, Hank found…
“Guess it isn’t that bad out here. Still freezing my nuts off, but—”
“Thank you for that mental image.”
“It’s what you deserve for dragging me out here. Now…” He paused, kneeling down beside where he guessed the flower bed was. “If only I could fuckin’ remember where I left the plant pots…”
“Let me.” Connor stopped beside him, reached out his hands and dug them into the snow—
Only for spikes of pain to light up his skin. He pulled back his hands, hissing.
Hank stared at him. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
“I was trying to find your plants!”
“With your bare hands—can’t you see mine?” He held up his hands, which were insulated by gloves.
“Oh. I… didn’t think I needed them.”
“ ‘course you need gloves. Cold as balls out here. Wait a second, I think I’ve got a spare inside…”
Hank disappeared back in the house for a moment, coming back out with something bundled up in his hands.
“Not got any more gloves. Got mittens, though.”
“Huh. They’ll fit, I think…” He pulled them on, chuckling when he found he could pull off the tops and turn them into fingerless gloves. “What an interesting feature!”
“Yeah. You should probably put the tops back on before you dig your hands into the snow again though… Heathen.”
Connor rolled his eyes, doing just that before searching for the plants again. Careful but swift, it wasn’t long before he found the first pot, and then, the second.
“Eh, they look a bit bashed up but they’re alive. Think I’ll put them on the outer windowsill this time so they don’t get drowned again.”
“Good idea.” Connor stood up, brushing the snow off his trousers as he watched Hank move the plants. Watching his turned back… an idea formed in his mind. Something that might make the outing more interesting. Crouching down, he packed snow between his hands until he had a decently sized snowball.
And once the plant was put down, he threw it at Hank’s back.
Immediately upon impact, the man shouted in shock, turning around with a confused expression, that became betrayed, and then…
“Oh, you want to take me on? You think this is funny?”
“Hysterical.”
“Well, I’ll let you know…” Hank crouched down, rummaging in the snow. “I’m something of a pro at this.”
“Big talk, not a lot of snowball fighting. You know, maybe you should just concede and let me—”
His words were cut short as a snowball smacked into his shoulder. He stumbled back a step, eyes narrowing. “Okay. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
But, before he could throw the next snowball, Hank cried out—
“Be careful of the fuckin’ pansies!”
“What? Are you insulting me?”
“No, dipshit, the flowers!”
“Oh, right—” A snowball caught him in the chest. “Hey, not fair. We haven’t started yet!”
“Don’t believe there’s rules to war.”
Connor groaned, realising he might have awakened something he should have left sleeping. As the snowball fight progressed, he knew that he’d underestimated Hank. The man was a machine, packing snowballs left and right, getting in hits and dodging pretty well. Another thing he realised, hurriedly wiping snow off his leg, stumbling to the floor to try and take cover, was that this was the most he’d seen Hank smile since he’d first met him. Perhaps, he’d have to try and make that happen more. Maybe—
He was taken out of his thoughts by a stray snowball smacking into his face.
“Holy fuck—I did not mean for it to hit you there! You alright?”
Connor chuckled, shaking his head and rubbing a hand over the bridge of his nose. “Nothing broken, except my pride. I think you’ve won.”
“I think face-hitting is against the rules…”
“I wasn’t paying attention. Really, it’s fine. I concede defeat. You’re the snowball champion.”
Hank laughed. “You bet I am. Now come on, let’s get inside. Sumo’s standing at the window and I think he’s getting’ jealous.”