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“denji, it’s snowing out.”
“huh?”
yoshida peers between the shyly parted curtains, resting his elbow on the edge of the windowsill. he leans his head in for clarity, squinting for signs of a welcoming flurry in the darkness. the sky is tinted with a soft shade of orange. it adorns the fallen snow with light. beautiful. yoshida’s breath hitches ever so slightly, letting out a condensed puff of air onto the glass pane.
there is a momentary pause before yoshida responds.
“have you ever played in snow before?”
denji, situated comfortably in a couch behind the captivated boy, huffs a breath of exasperation. he leans into the plush leather with a little more tautness, as if to emphasize how much he prefers the warmth of yoshida’s home to the barren cold.
“hell no, dude. when it snowed, i was freezing my ass off and praying the shack i lived in didnt collapse and kill me. you think i had time to make angel men and snow balls?”
yoshida turns to face denji and cocks his head inquisitively, letting his dark locks splinter his view. he lets out a laugh, with some semblance to a bark; sharp and resounding. denji jolts at the sudden change in atmosphere, eyebrows furrowing.
“what are you laughing at you—“
“apologies, i wasn’t laughing at your situation,” yoshida smiles. “i was just surprised you haven’t had the chance to enjoy snow like i do.”
denji’s eyebrows unknit, feigning confusion.
“what’s so good about it?”
“i’ll teach you.”
yoshida spends a bit of time dressing his boyfriend in appropriate snow-playing-date wear. denji insists a few times that he can handle the cold, flexing a bicep comedically to prove his point. in response, yoshida wraps denji snugly with a scarf and slips on a pair of fleece-lined mittens.
“mittens??” denji sputters, stumbling backwards from the weight of compacted layers.
the newly-transformed michelin man flushes profusely; perhaps from embarrassment or the seven layers yoshida bundled him with. either way, yoshida finds it difficult to resist peppering his partner with a blizzard of kisses. denji scrunches up his face at the impact of each one, but fails to hide the adoration reflected in his eyes.
yoshida clasps his gloved fingers around denji’s hand. he squeezes tightly as confirmation and enters the graceful waltz of snowflakes.
“woahh, you can see like, everything.” denji gapes before instinctively sticking out his tongue to catch the flakes of snow. he trudges excitedly in the snow chasing the falling crystals. cute, yoshida thinks.
“light is reflected off of the snow because of its high albedo,” yoshida agrees. “it makes the world seem a little brighter.”
“you are such a nerd,” denji jabs.
“oh yeah? could a nerd do this?” yoshida asks, launching a loosely packed snowball to denji’s face. it explodes like a dandelion dispersing in the wind. denji’s jaw goes slack. his shock contorts into a smirk as he scoops a handful of snow into his palm.
the two exchange a competitive throw of hands, blurring the arena in puffs of white. yoshida is merciless; pummeling the chainsaw boy as if his life depended on it. denji refuses to stand down and utilizes the stuffy layers to cushion the blows. their fight ends in a stream of breathless laughter, cheeks nipped from the cold.
“denji, come lay with me.” yoshida calls out hoarsely, plopping resoundly onto the plush snow.
“but it’s cold,” denji blurts out, earning a chuckle from his partner.
“you don’t want to learn how to make snow angels?” yoshida pouts.
a groan, or something resembling an affectionate grumble, escapes denjis lips. he takes a spot next to yoshida, who promptly falls back to allow the snow to bear his weight. denji follows suit and feels a chill creep up his spine.
“what now?”
“spread out your arms and legs and wave them like you’re flying.” yoshida instructs.
he demonstrates by flailing his limbs in a swift and rehearsed fashion. denji attempts to imitate yoshida’s movements with his limited vision, the snow effectively obstructing his view.
yoshida springs up and bends over to help his boyfriend up. he takes denji’s hand and presses his fingers softly; denji reciprocates.
“two angels are imprinted in the snow now,” the taller boy whispers, as if afraid the world would hear his words.
“it’s temporary.”
“so are we, but it didn’t stop us from trying.”
denji leans against his stone pillar of a boyfriend and knits his eyebrows together. his head comes to rest on the sturdy shoulders he had grown familiar to. this boy, who had watchfully guarded him for two years, was now here to give him all his firsts. the chainsaw boy’s heart stirred ever so slightly.
“yoshida, i think i like the snow.”