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It was Fir's first winter in Calgary. Snow, as it frequently happened, covered most of the streets in a deep layer.
“So, you've never seen snow in the US?” Tanner asked incredulously, tying up his boots.
“Negative,” Fir shook his head. He was watching Tanner intently.
“Are you just gonna stare? I thought we're going together.”
“We are,” Fir nodded, still looking straight at him.
Tanner sighed. This was getting annoying. Who knew a new roommate he had just signed a lease with would turn out to be this kind of autistic. Tanner had nothing against it, he kind of got it even. It was just very hard to adjust to—he didn't sign up to babysit him, but there they were.
“Then get your jacket or something. It's freaking cold outside.”
“Oh, that's true,” Fir said and hurried to get the jacket.
***
They needed to clean up the driveway and change the tyres to the winter set before going to the grocery store.
Fir was trying hard to help, although from time to time he was getting very curious about too many things—the snow, the car, the shovel Tanner gave him—and needed to be taken out of it.
“How do you feel about snow?” Fir asked, stopping from shoveling because a snowflake landed on his nose. It didn't melt on his skin, and when Tanner looked over, Fir's eyes were crossed to the tip of his long nose.
“It's fine.” Tanner shrugged and exhaled before getting another pile of snow out of the way.
Fir tried again every five minutes, like clockwork, and by the sixth time, Tanner snapped at him.
“Look.” He forced his shovel in the snow with a huff. “If you really want to know my opinion. I think you are asking too many questions. Can you just shut up?”
Fir's mouth was still open mid-question, but as soon as Tanner finished, he closed it. He didn't look very apologetic but at least he shut up—that was all Tanner wanted from him now anyway.
***
By the time they were on their way back from the grocery store, Fir was still quiet. He didn't say a word since Tanner had asked him to shut up.
Tanner was starting to feel bad. Was he too harsh on him? He didn't want to be wrong in this situation. But he knew this couldn't continue like that.
“Hey,” he said, when they parked in the cleaned up driveway, “can you talk to me again?”
Fir looked at him, and his expression was strangely confused and calm. As if he wasn't even put out by the whole thing. Tanner's mild guilt turned into him feeling stupid. He mentally shoved his already-prepared apology into the glove box.
“I can.” Fir nodded. “Do you want to talk about anything in particular?”
Tanner dropped his forehead onto the steering wheel and sighed.
“You've never seen snow, right?” he said after a pause.
“Affirmative.” Fir nodded again.
“Let's go then.” Tanner got out of the car, putting on his winter gloves, and Fir followed him to the backyard. “Wanna play a game?”
“Human game?”
Tanner raised an eyebrow at him, confused, but quickly shrugged it. “Defend yourself.”
Fir curiously watched, as Tanner formed a loose snow ball. He motioned for Fir to follow, and Fir did.
He barely stood up and turned back to Tanner when a snow ball hit him right between his eyebrows. Fir blinked a few times, as fluffy snowflakes fell through his eyelashes. Tanner laughed lightly.
“Congrats on your first snow fight.” He grinned and hoped it didn't turn out crooked. The only thought in his mind was hope that Fir would also find it funny. That they will get along one day. And the first day on the road to that day would be now.
“Snow fight,” Fir repeated, studying the snowball in his palm. It was like he didn't mind his face being covered in snow. What a weirdo. “Sounds interesting.”
He attacked so suddenly, Tanner was barely on time to duck. Fir's throw was surprisingly precise and powerful. But Tanner wasn't going to lose to him. Not ever.
***
They played in the snow for over half an hour. Then for over an hour. Fir grinned, mirroring Tanner's laughter, as they ran after each other in the backyard.
At last, Tanner tackled Fir into a snow pile, and they burst into giggles. Tanner was panting, wet even after taking his jacket off. Fir's was piled on top of Tanner's by the house entrance. His sweater had a thin layer of snow, and his face and hair were covered in snowflakes, but he still looked dry and didn't look even a quarter as out-of-breath as Tanner was.
“Gotcha,” Tanner huffed out smugly, as he grabbed Fir's wrists and pinned them over his head.
Fir smiled back. “That is a fun game. What now?”
Tanner snorted. “Well, you were supposed to continue trying to run away, but this goes too,” he sat up, shifted his grip and wiped his sweaty face with the back of his big glove.
Fir was about to say something when Tanner frowned, and the words didn't leave Fir's mouth. “What?” he asked instead after a few moments of intent studying.
“Are you cold? You've been out for a while without any gloves. Your hands look awfully pale,” he pointed out with slight concern.
“I don't feel anything,” Fir said with the intonation that somehow wasn't full of dread. Tanner's now was.
He was already undoing the velcro fasteners on his gloves, but Fir's words turned his movements erratic. He quickly touched Fir's hand with his—he was somewhat cold himself despite the gloves, but the temperature of Fir's skin was so low he couldn't believe he could feel it. In contrast with his own hands, slightly red with creeping frost and dump from sweat, Fir's were almost as white as his hair. And he was an extremely pale man already.
“God, you should go inside.” Tanner got off Fir and tugged him from the snow. Fir was quiet and calm as they went inside, and it drove Tanner insane. “For fuck’s sake, don't just stand there,” he said, frantically toeing off his boots.
Fir looked around and followed Tanner to undress. “Why are you nervous?” Fir asked, and Tanner shot him an exasperated look. This was getting too stupid.
“Okay, Google,” he said into his phone, running to the bathroom to get the first aid kit, “what to do when your hands are cold”—he looked over his shoulder at apparently clueless Fir—“and you can't feel them.”
***
Fifteen minutes later they were sitting on the couch, Fir covered in three different blankets, hands submerged in a bowl of warm water.
“How is it?” Tanner asked, holding a mug of hot chocolate to his lips, looking at Fir over his foggy glasses. “Feeling them?”
Fir's expression turned contemplative, as if he wasn't sure what to say. “Affirmative,” he said carefully, and Tanner let out a relieved sigh, chuckled lightly.
“You scared me there.” He took a sip.
“I apologize.”
Tanner shook his head at him dismissively. He reached out to touch Fir's hands. He looked completely normal, and his hands were the temperature of the water. This was surprising. Usually Tanner would not feel his hands for a long time after a snow day like that, that's why he got somewhat good winter gloves.
Fir was too frivolous even for Tanner. Too literal, too clueless, too... too Fir.
“Well, at least we had fun.”
“Affirmative,” Fir nodded after a bit too long of a pause.
“You need to get gloves,” Tanner mused aloud.
“Affirmative.”
Tanner glanced over, suspicious. “Are you dumb?”
“Affirmative,” Fir repeated, carefree.
Tanner snorted. “Okay, you can't just agree with anything I say now. Are your hands even alright for real?” He took Fir's hands out of the bowl in his lap and squeezed them gently, trying to see if Fir would feel that.
Fir looked down at them, then back at Tanner.
Tanner was about to lose his mind.
“Jeez, what are you? An alien?” he mumbled, letting him go. Fir opened his mouth. “Don't answer that.” Fir closed his mouth back. “Just— don't get sick or something. I'm not going to take care of you again like that.” He took the bowl to the kitchen. “Do you want hot chocolate?” he asked anyway, because he hadn't put the box away yet.
There was a quiet second, and then a very uncertain, “Affirmative?” followed by, “You said I shouldn't agree with you, but I would actually like to try that.”
Tanner held his nose bridge, trying not to laugh too hysterically.
Fir was definitely something. And it was annoying, for sure. But, fortunately for him, just enough amusing.