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Even in winter, it is rarely cold in Konoha; the temperature never drops below zero and you can count on your fingertips how many times it snowed. But there had been winters where the sun had not been seen for days, the ice had blocked the Naka River and the snow had covered every roof in white.
One of those times it happened while Naruto was still at the Academy and he was struggling alone with the monthly salary offered by the Third Hokage. He had loved to see the snow in the evening, being amazed to watch those white flakes that fell on his world like icing sugar. He had fallen asleep at the window, dreaming of a soft white world.
The next morning, the magic was over.
He had had to reckon with his clothes being too light, too short - which left the ankles uncovered - and they got wet instantly, with holes in his gloves and summer sandals. The cold had entered his bones, his lungs, to the point of making him shiver and have a cold. At school some children stuffed snow into his bag, wetting and ruining his few notebooks, melting his miserable notes. The cold didn't abandon him even at home, his heating wasn't powerful enough, and bad news awaited him: the water had frozen due to the low temperature and the pressure had broken the pipes.
That anomalous cold and the snow lasted only a few days, but to Naruto they seemed eternal abandoned as it was in his squalid and damp apartment, with no heat and no one.
It hasn't snowed in Konoha since then, until today.
A harsher winter than usual has been predicted since the end of autumn, but no one expected to see those white ghosts fluttering down from the sky again. When that happens, when the first flake first catches someone's attention, all heads lift upwards and everyone stops to stare at those little flakes dancing against the dark of the evening.
Like the first time, Naruto is still amazed; but his gaze remains raised only for just a few seconds. Soon after he turns to the side and the snow suddenly seems less beautiful compared to him.
Obito is smiling slightly, in that hinted way he does when he doesn't even notice it, in that demonstration of genuine happiness that he is afraid to use, that little happiness when you see that there was still something small in the world that could excite you. Naruto spied those smiles, he collected them, considering each one his personal victory.
Obito is so beautiful. But strangely it's not because of that little smile. Nor is it because of his white hair and light-colored clothes, which in turn make him look like a being made of snow; or for the redness that the cold has caused to slip on the cheekbones, the swollen and chapped lips from the cold, the scars. No, it's that…
Snowflakes have fallen on his long, thick eyelashes. They are there, small geometric compositions of ice, on him elegant and magnetic eyes of him.
Obito is so beautiful.
Naruto doesn't even realize he's started to purr, his Alpha nature rumbles in delight at the sight of his Omega. He pushes towards him, barely getting up on his toes - by now he's managed to reach Obito in height, even if there's still a centimeter to go - and rubs his face on his throat, overcoming the pathetic barrier of the wide Uchiha collar. He inhales his warm smell, which smells like burnt wood and pine cones, as if it were a fireplace; Obito smells like a warm and comfortable home.
Obito's reaction is immediate, he raises a hand to wrap him around himself, his fingers entwining his short hair. He places a kiss on Naruto's forehead, who starts to purr even louder.
"Are you cold? Let's go home,” Obito suggests.
Naruto doesn't answer, but lets him clasp their hands together and they continue their way home, the snow getting thicker and settling lightly on his shoulders, in his hair.
On Obito's eyelashes.
When they arrive at the apartment that they have been renting for a year, the snow falls so thick that it is barely possible to see the outlines of the streets, houses, other people. They leave their wet coats hanging to dry, Obito goes to the living room to light the fire in the fireplace, while Naruto heads to the kitchen. He puts away the shopping they've done and starts making a hot cocoa. They both need to warm up with something sweet after that long day out in the cold.
Naruto puts cream on both chocolates, adds an extra dose of sugar in Obito's and prepares a nice composition of Christmas cookies - bought on sale that day - to dip them.
When he returns to the living room the heat hits his face, he realizes that Obito has not only lit the fireplace, but has also placed the nest in front of it, on the carpet. He unrolled the round futon, surrounded it with cushions in a semicircle like a wall, using the mokuton as construction support. He placed the two largest and softest as backrests, then covered the whole building with soft and lined woolen blankets, with old cuddly toys and clothes that they no longer wear. It feels as comfortable and comforting as ever. Naruto runs to snuggle up next to Obito, careful not to spill their tray. Obito spreads one of the blankets — it's Naruto's with the stylized frogs — over them and then Naruto sets the tray on top.
“But your heat is still a long way off,” Naruto observes.
"It's cold" is the simple answer to the implicit question.
After all, that's all you need, it doesn't take much to have an excuse to stay closer in the nest, in the symbol of their home. Naruto watches the flames crackling in the fireplace and breathes the same smell around him, which just covers the sweet one of the hot chocolate. Obito wraps his arms around him and that smell intensifies, the heat seems to increase until his heart melts in his chest. He starts purring again, vibrating with pure happiness and Obito giggles, hugs him tighter.
From the window you can see the snow getting thicker and fiercer.
“Now it looks like popcorn,” Naruto considers aloud.
Obito looks out a little uncertain, takes a sip of chocolate that leaves him with a mustache of cream. He then replies:
“Once when I was a child it snowed like this”.
Naruto turns to look at him. “It happened when I was eight too!”
But Obito seems lost in distant memories, to the point of not even hearing his enthusiastic response.
“It snowed so much and suddenly that the day after they closed the Academy, a piece of the roof had collapsed. Instead of going to school, my class decided to meet at the park for a snowball fight, I was invited too. But along the way I ran into so many people who had found their homes blocked by snow, in difficulty… I stopped to help. And when I got to the park, it was almost evening and everyone had already left. I returned home and discovered that the snow had also damaged my house: the heating wasn't working. I spent the whole night freezing."
Naruto turns to look at him as he talks. He is always happy when Obito tells him a piece of his past about him, when he manages to reconnect the threads of the child he had been with his now self, healing from the trauma that caused him to sever those memory threads. But this time Naruto mostly feels a pang of empathy, he knows the feeling of spending the night in a cold room.
He looks at it intensely and even if there is no more snow, his white eyelashes are still of a beauty that takes breath away.
"The snow hurt me too" he murmurs and doesn't add anything else, because he knows that Obito can understand everything else just like he understood everything else. He lets that little melancholy lighten between them for only a few seconds, then he smiles as if with that smile he wanted to drive away the clouds full of snow, light up the sky. “Hey, if it keeps snowing like this tomorrow it will be all white! We could have a snowball fight, 'tebayo!"
"Mh..." Obito comments as his fingers climb up Naruto's shoulders, gripping his sweater to keep him closer. “Do you want to play like children?” he teases him.
Naruto doesn't respond to the taunt. “We could invite Sakura-chan, Sasuke and the others. I'm sure Konohamaru doesn't have to meet with the team."
“No, not Sasuke,” Obito moans and at his confused look he looks at him eloquently. “You are too competitive. You risk turning it into the Fifth Ninja War."
“Well, at least this time I'll have you on my side right away,” he replies very seriously, then bursts out laughing at his slightly offended face. "Sorry, bad taste… Well, if we invite Iruka-sensei along, I'm sure he'll be able to keep things under control."
"Iruka isn't a little too old for snowballs?"
“He is younger than you”.
There is a moment of silence where Obito's face changes from realization to horror, which once again makes Naruto burst out laughing. His hilarious reaction makes Obito blush, the roughness on his cheekbones standing out brilliantly against the white of his hair.
“So, I'd say I'm a little too old for snowballs,” he mutters offended and embarrassed, letting go of Naruto.
"No, nope! I did not say this! You are not." The Alpha squats against the larger body, trying to regain its goodwill with cuddles, neck rubs and purrs. "You did it all by yourself" he adds, however, sticking out his tongue.
He knows that Obito can't resist him, in fact he's not surprised to come back tightly in his arms immediately afterwards, this time lying on the blankets and curled up together like cats, with the nest surrounding them protective and warm.
“You're a pimp,” Obito mutters heavily, as if he might fall asleep at any moment.
Naruto looks at the light the fireplace flames draw on his face, the way they glow with crimson shades his onyx irises. Rub their noses together.
"Speaking of which… Your birthday is almost there, 'bayo." Naruto waits for a nod of recognition. “Is there anything you would like to do?”
Obito takes a while to answer, then tightens his grip.
“That's fine,” he chokes, perhaps a little incoherently with the question. "So it's… perfect."
The sound of perfect is almost lost, echoing between them like the crackling of a log in a fireplace. Perfect is a word that until then Obito had reserved only for the Tsukiyomi dream; it is the first time that Naruto feels the Omega of him using it. And he did it for something as trivial as being in front of the fire, in a nest with your mate.
Is this what is perfect?
Obito fell asleep instantly, as if saying that word took the last effort out of him. Naruto watches him breathing silently through parted lips, his chest rising-lowering in a constant rhythm, his expression stretched out and his white eyelashes caressing his cheekbones.
Maybe he's right, that's exactly what's perfect.
Naruto curls up against him, rests his head on his shoulder and presses his nose into his neck. It's warm, fragrant like the most welcoming home, especially alive.
Sleep reaches him while it's cold and snowing outside, the smell of chocolate remains in the air, the fireplace crackles and they wrap themselves under the covers.