Work Text:
The smoke from the cigarette dangling limply from Everett's fingers curled up into the air, briefly visible before it vanished. It irritated Henry; how long Everett took before bringing the cigarette up to his lips and taking in a slow inhale, before promptly blowing the smoke out, and he was already in a horrid mood.
Not that the frigid cold helped his peace of mind either. He was bundled in thick coats and a sweater underneath, yet the ice cold air still sneaked in through gaps and pressed itself against him. Henry sneaked a glance towards Everett to see if the weather bothered him the same, but he showed no sign of even acknowledging the cold, his eyes fixed on some faraway point Henry couldn't find.
Only when the cigarette, barely held with effort, slipped from his fingers during a small gust of wind and landed on the snow, the fire melting it before extinguishing, did he move. Everett simply frowned at it lying on the ground, as if he were a mother glaring at a mischievous child, before digging his hand into his coat pocket for the pack and lighter.
Unable to take the heavy silence any longer, Henry spoke up, his voice coming out a tad bit louder than intended. “The weather is rather cold.” A simple, safe, understandable topic, yet Everett blinked for a few seconds as if Henry had asked him complex mathematics before replying.
“Well, winter is coming, is it not?” His voice was hoarse, and Henry briefly wondered if he had remembered to drink water, or if the pitcher stayed in his room half finished.
“Yes, it is, and I must say I'm not too glad about it. Horrid temperatures.” This elicited a slight reaction from Everett, who shot him a peculiar look. “You don't seem to be a fan of winter, opposed to myself. I quite enjoy it, actually. The snow makes delightful sounds when you step on it, and you get so many days off from University.”
“Maybe so,” Henry conceded. “but you cannot deny going out becomes a chore when its minus degrees out, and unless you have a heated and warm home, you'll be freezing halfway to pneumonia and frostbite.”
Everett, at the very least, had the decency to pretend to ponder that before returning his interest to the cigarette between his fingers.
There was a second of quiet before Henry pushed for conversation again. “But I must say, spring is perhaps the most pleasant season of all. Absolutely nothing happens during spring except the blooming of buds into flowers and the sucking of nectar by bees. It's as peaceful as it is uneventful.”
Everett, possibly finally getting the hint that Henry wasn't going to let them stand in silence, dropped the cigarette onto the snow, next to the previously fallen one, and crushed it with the heel of his boot.
“Not for me, the pollen hovering in the air brings me terrible allergies, and the weather is as unpredictable as a lottery ticket.” Henry glanced at him curiously.
“But surely the freshly grown flowers, the return of hibernating animals, and the warmth make up for it in some way or the other. Spring is the season of life and unpredictability, which is precisely what makes it so enjoyable”
Everett shrugged. “I don't pay that much attention to the flora and fauna of this world, and the warmth results in the increase of outdoor sports, which I absolutely despise.”
Henry stayed quiet for a minute or so, before posing a question that had been lingering in both their minds, silently rolling at the back of their brains. “Everett. I know that you probably already guessed that the reason for me standing out here, in this shivering, frigid cold with you was not to argue on seasons. So, I will cut straight to the point now. This morning. What… what were you attempting to convey?”
Everett's face fell from slightly amused to somber as Henry spoke. He turned to face the latter, fingers twitching slightly, before speaking up. “Well, I did guess you would bring it up sooner or later, but part of me hoped you wouldn't.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
Everett only looked off into the distance, as if the Silver Birch trees would speak for him. Finally, he said, “I'm not so sure I would like to speak it outloud, I don't think it would be pleasing to you in the way I wished it would be, and if it is not pleasing to you, it won't be pleasing to me.”
Henry raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the slight giddiness starting to replace his impatience, like a schoolboy receiving chocolates on Valentine's Day for the very first time. His earlier terrible mood he held had vanished completely.
“I don't think I would mind it.” Everett shuffled his feet, pushing the snow around. “Do you really not? I feel you might pity me.” “Have you ever seen me deceive someone for a reason as shallow as that?”
The other man got a strange expression on his face. “I haven't seen you do much, but I suppose you have never done anything like that.”
Henry nodded. “Then you have nothing to fear, do you?”
Everett delayed only for a beat more before opening his mouth. “I feel as if I might bear affection towards you. Affection that extends past, say, simple brotherhood between friends.”
Well, that was about what Henry had guessed, but hearing the words be spoken by Everett himself, not the imaginary hazy clone of the other boy Henry had conjured up in his head made him still, and the tips of his ears and nose to flush more than they already were, except this wasn't because the cold they stood out in. In fact, the cold seemed more irrelevant than a molecule of dust in the air when it was faced with the warmth that settled in comfortably the pit of Henry's stomach.
But Henry did not stay still for long. Everett was looking at him, brows furrowed slightly as if he were trying to discern Henry's reaction, posture rigid and breathing a little too quick.
Henry walked to be in front of Everett, who tensed up like he was expecting a punch to the kidney. Instead, he received a clumsily spilled out confession.
“I too- I mean I bear the same, well I only really realised that recently, recently as in today, but I am positive I do, so you don't need to look at me like I'm someone who would hurt you because God- I mean, I would sooner cut off my fingers than do that and-”
Henry stopped short seeing the credulous look on the other's face.
“I am not lying. I swear on my mother's life, on my sister's life, I will swear on anyone's life you want me to. I love you Everett, I do, I promise you. You need not worry or be vary, and I will do anything you want me to to help prove you can trust what I am saying.”
Everett shook his head slowly, but the expression he had was fading into one of wonder. Childlike wonder that made him seem like he had just seen the best of the world.
“You don't need to swear on your mother's life or your sister's or anyone else's. It's- it's just a little bit hard to process since I was so braced for rejection, so to get a reciprocal was shocking.” He exhaled slowly.
“I believe you. I believe you and if this is a vivid dream, then it is among the best I have had, second only to the one where I had won seven lotteries in a row.”
“So. Are we, well, romantically involved now? Romantically tangled?”
“It would be extremely irrational for us to not be after a confession and a reciprocal.”
Everett reached for the pack of cigarettes again to pick out his third one, and offered one to Henry, who took it. The cigarettes light up in an almost whimsical fashion, although that could be because of the giddiness floating in the air. Everett snapped the lighter shut and back it went into his coat pocket to lay with the pack of cigs.
The snow continued falling around them, piling up slightly on their shoulders and the tops of their head, but both men were content to stand out, in the midst of freezing winter at late night, when the even the slightest gust of wind felt unbearable, simply soaking in the feeling of their newfound relationship, the other's warmth, the nicotine filling their lungs.
It was, Henry noted, one of the most beautiful moments of his life.