Archive of Our Own ^beta

Megumi kicks his way through the snow, forcing himself to once again run through the reasons why, exactly, he's suffering the consequences of being outdoors. (Reasons that he'd listened to Yuuji list off with increasing desperation in an attempt to make this excursion happen in the first place.)

1. It's a nice day. Despite the earlier snowfall, the sun has made an appearance to break through intermittent clouds, casting the ice in a glittering, sparkling show. (The light reflects directly into his eyes.)

2. Exercise is good for him. Not that he's lacking in physical activity — today is a rarity, really, to have their training called off for the sake of leisure time. (His toes are going numb, despite the thick wool socks he's wearing inside his snow boots.)

3. An appreciation for the natural world is important. Seeing the trees in all their evergreen beauty, and all that. (The trees are always green. And he can see them from indoors, anyways. Just look out the window and there they are.)

4. (?) Maybe there's something about Vitamin D exposure on the list, too, if he really stretches things. (What are multivitamins for if not to remedy the consequences of his reclusive tendencies?)

The biggest reason, though, and one that Yuuji hadn't even brought up himself —

Megumi stumbles again, foot catching on some buried tree root or rock or other godforsaken obstacle hidden under a foot and a half of snow.

"Shit." He bites down on the word, but it slips out of his mouth anyway, just loud enough for Yuuji to hear.

5. Yuuji —

Yuuji looks over from where he's walking a few steps away to Megumi's side, eyebrows already raised in bemused curiosity before he even catches Megumi's eye. That easy, ever-present smile traces over his mouth as he watches Megumi straighten up and brush the stray snow from his knees.

"You could walk behind me, you know. Just step where I've already made footprints. Allow me to carve out the path." Yuuji's head tilts as he lets his smile widen in faux-haughtiness, voice dropping as if in imitation of some B-tier historical drama protagonist. Megumi fights the urge to roll his eyes. Affectionately, of course.

"Maybe I want to walk next to you, instead."

Yuuji's face softens into something more genuine, grin wide as ever as his eyes shine. One hand comes up to adjust his hat over his forehead — something Megumi has learned is a telltale sign he's getting flustered. So easy to read, even when they're both bundled in countless layers of clothing.

"What, so you can hold my hand?"

Nevermind, Yuuji gets over being flustered fast.

Megumi stares down at the hand that's being extended to him, the knit stripes of Yuuji's mitten bright against the backdrop of white snow.

His heart thuds an extra beat or two in his chest. Yes, he'd say if he were half an ounce more bold. As it is, he just puts on his best scowl, chewing at the inside of his cheek as he takes a step forward to close the distance between them.

5. Yuuji wanted to go sledding, so they're going sledding.

Megumi is halfway through formulating some snarky remark, some You wish or the like, when his brain helpfully short-circuits, and the words never leave his tongue.

Instead, his own gloved hand lifts to meet Yuuji's, clasping as tightly as he can through layers of wool and fabric.

It's just to watch the shift on Yuuji's face, Megumi justifies. Just to see how his big brown eyes go all soft and wide and his smile falls open with that quiet adoration that he always radiates whenever Megumi makes a move like this. That's all it is.

For sure.

Megumi's heart resounds loudly in his chest. He's grateful for the gloves and mittens that prevent Yuuji from feeling the jump in his pulse.

It's new, still. The daring moves of claiming touches, the adrenaline spikes of teasing words. The rush of saying his first name, Yuuji, Yuuji, Yuuji, the way it rolls off his tongue whether it's chiding or soft or worried. Months spent suffering in silent longing, and now that he has what he wanted, it feels like he'll never make up for that lost time. He'll never make up for it; he has to make up for it; he feels like he'll die if he doesn't make up for it.

It's new, and it's overwhelming, and Megumi feels like he's drowning in it and he's floating on air and everything in between.

Yuuji tugs at his hand, grin entirely too self-satisfied for Megumi's liking. He can't tell whether the flush on Yuuji's cheeks is from the cold or not.

"Fine, I guess we can hold hands. But if you get stuck in the snow I'm leaving you behind and going sledding by myself." Mock indifference colors Yuuji's tone, betrayed by the quirk of a smile that lingers at the corner of his mouth.

Megumi's gaze shifts to their target — the top of this godforsaken hill, overlooking the expanse of training fields and the wide-reaching stretch of pine forests that mark the edge of the school campus. Yuuji decides to go sledding, and naturally he picks the tallest hill on campus.

Megumi doesn't even to hide his sigh of resignation, breath fogging the air in front of him as he readjusts his grip on Yuuji's hand. His other hand tugs at the length of rope he's been lugging behind him, bringing the attached sled a few inches closer and out of the way of the snow-dusted shrubbery they're navigating. Of course it was their luck that the only sleds they'd been able to find in that dusty storage shed were decades old and unreasonably heavy.

Yuuji does the same with his own sled, wrapping the length of fraying cord around his hand a few times as he braves another step upward. "We're like, almost there. I can tell — I can see the top right there."

Megumi doesn't bother explaining the visual illusion of the hilltop appearing closer than it is; the snow ruins any sense of depth perception. They've been climbing what Yuuji called "that little hill over there" for at least twenty minutes at this point, and Megumi would be hard-pressed to say they're even halfway to the top. Also, his toes are numb — has he mentioned that his toes are numb?

Undeterred, Yuuji forges onward, and now that they're linked Megumi has no choice but to follow.

Yuuji is indomitable, chattering away as they trudge through snowfall that only seems to become impossibly deeper the farther they go. They pick their way through young pines and gnarled bushes, glistening icicles hanging off the tips of jagged leaves. Yuuji barely seems out of breath as Megumi listens, detailing anything and everything from his latest mission where he'd made use of a new close combat maneuver he'd been practicing with Maki, to his excitement over an upcoming update to some video game that he plays with Panda, to his raving review of a newly-opened imported foods store that he'd made a trip to with Inumaki the weekend prior, both returning laden with obscure ingredients and bizarre snacks that they'd insisted on taste-testing. (Megumi had no interest in consuming a pickle-flavored potato chip.)

His nose is running from the bite of the cold air, and his arms are growing sore from the struggle of holding on to both Yuuji's hand and the sled, but Megumi just listens. Yuuji carves his way forward, eyes set on the peak ahead of them, and Megumi stares down at his feet as the snow is pushed aside. If the motion of Yuuji's steps happens to push a little more snow into Megumi's path, he doesn't mention it. He just sidesteps his way around it, hands linked all the while.

Another arduous twenty minutes later, the cold air pricking in his throat as his breath comes in stilted gasps, Megumi is half a step behind Yuuji when they reach the hill's summit, dense vegetation fading into an open hilltop. He's fairly certain there's snow inside his boots now, somehow.

Yuuji looks positively elated, smile wide as ever as he casts his gaze around their surroundings, momentarily releasing Megumi's hand as he shields his eyes from the late-morning sunlight. Megumi misses the contact as soon as it's gone, but, to be fair, the light is harsh, rebounding off the expanse of pure white and refracting in every direction.

Never one to stand still for too long, Yuuji's already moving on to scouting out their path back down the open side of the hill, pointing out possible trajectories and listing tips on how to best steer their sleds. Much of their ascent was spent with him recounting memories of winters in Sendai, sledding with his grandfather and childhood friends, conjuring an image in Megumi's mind of a younger Yuuji bundled up in a hat and scarf and thick coat to the point where only his cold-reddened nose and sparkling eyes peeked out.

Megumi had few memories of his own to share — childhood winters were more often marked by overdue heating bill payments and rationed meals between him and Tsumiki in the years before Gojo came into their lives, and by that point he'd become accustomed to a life without luxuries like sleds and thick winter padding. Gojo provided them anyways, as though hopeful that he could make up for the years without.

Megumi can barely recall the last time he was sledding, he realizes as he stands atop this hill, eyes squinting against the sunlight and head burrowing into his wool scarf. There's a hazy memory of Tsumiki's arms around him, the rush of the wind on his face and her laughter in his ears, a glimpse of the few years before it was just the two of them left to fend for themselves. He wonders if she'd be able to recall it too, or if it's buried somewhere out of sight in her mind the way it is in his.

Yuuji has stopped talking, Megumi notices as he fishes his mind back out of the well of his memories. He's looking at Megumi expectantly, brown eyes shining with the excitement of their imminent descent.

"Sorry, could you say that again?" Megumi tugs at his sled, if only to give his hands something to do. "Zoned out for a sec."

Yuuji's face softens a little, his brows knitting together minutely in the way they do when he's decoding Megumi's expression. It's unfair, really, the way that Megumi has spent a lifetime trying to make himself unreadable and Yuuji just looks straight through him anyways.

"Of course." Yuuji patiently reiterates what he describes as his "optimized trajectory," head tilted in thought as he gestures across the expanse of snow and distant trees. From this height, even the largest buildings on campus look like miniatures, nestled in a wintertime display of traditional architecture with warm lights illuminating their windows.

Yuuji outlines a path down the hillside, pointing out the dips in the snow that indicate bumpy terrain beneath, the spots where short shrubbery still manages to poke up through the drifts, the shiny patches of ice that stretch across the windward slope.

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?" It's a little surprising to Megumi, how much Yuuji evidently considered all the variables for their course down the hill.

Yuuji's grin widens, eyes sparkling. "I've been wanting to sled down this hill since I moved here." Mock disappointment drifts over his face, one eyebrow raising in feigned disbelief. "Unbelieveable, really, that you haven't been up here to do this before. Such a perfect hill for sledding, and you'd let it go completely to waste if not for me."

Megumi fights an eye roll. "I told you, I didn't even know there were sleds in that shed."

"Hmm, sure. Not like you'd rather be inside, sipping tea and reading a book under your blankets."

"Well, actually, that does sound nice. Maybe I should head out and leave you to this by yourself —" Megumi moves to turn away as if to head back down, and Yuuji breaks out into laughter, hand coming up to rest on Megumi's arm.

"No, no! Don't go, I promise this'll be super fun, like, the most fun ever!"

Megumi only pretends to huff an exasperated breath and acquiesce, free hand taking hold of Yuuji's on his arm. "Like I'd let you drag me all the way up here if I didn't want to do it."

Yuuji's face brightens, whether from Megumi's words or from the way their hands are now linked back together.

"Aw, I knew you liked me. Such sacrifices you make."

It's Megumi's turn to blush, his nonchalance ruined, as usual, by Yuuji's easy-given affections. He hopes the cold means his cheeks are already flushed, hiding the rising heat in his face. It takes every ounce of restraint to contain another eye roll. He buries his chin in his scarf instead, feet scuffing at the snow beneath him.

"Can we just go already? It's freezing out here."

Yuuji laughs again, giving their linked hands a little swing as he brings them up to gesture vaguely back over their planned path. "Yeah, yeah. So, we aim for that crest right there, between that shrub and the big snowdrift, and then once you're past that dip over there be sure to lean left to avoid that ice patch. Okay?"

Megumi nods, eyes tracing where Yuuji points with their bundle of hands. Yuuji volunteered to go first, anyway, so he can just follow close behind.

Their route is set. Megumi fumbles with the rope of his sled, the cord somehow knotted around itself and one of the sled's runners; his gloved fingers struggle to get a solid grip while his other hand is still clasped in Yuuji's. He's almost got the rope free, shimmying it out from where it's caught, when he nudges the sled just an inch too far; the plasticky material of the cord is just a fraction too slippery against the surface of his glove.

His stomach drops, and then half a second later all he can do is watch as his sled slips down the hillside in front of them, riderless.

Shit.

He hears Yuuji's faint gasp beside him, and he thinks he might just disintegrate on the spot.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

All either of them can do is just watch as the sled grows smaller and smaller, sliding smoothly in a near-perfect line until it settles at the edge of one of the training fields, a speck of dark wood trailing twin lines back to where Megumi stands stock-still in shock.

He's so numb he's not even sure if Yuuji is still holding his hand. His heartbeat rages in his ears, compounding the oppressive silence as the embarrassment sets in.

Shit, he feels like such an idiot, and Yuuji has been looking forward to this for so long — for months, apparently — and Megumi's gone and screwed it up, and of course they're at the top of the tallest godforsaken hill for miles around, and it'll take forever to get back down to the sled, and even longer to haul it all the way back up again, and —

Yuuji's hand falls out of Megumi's; there's a second before he looks over in which Megumi is convinced that Yuuji is furious at him, that somehow this is where it all breaks —

Yuuji keels over, absolutely cackling. His laughs become increasingly breathless as he bends over so far he's almost kneeling in the snow, clutching at his stomach. The fog of his gasping breaths clouds the air, cheeks turning rosy from the sheer effort of it all.

Megumi stares, wide-eyed and silent, still rooted to the ground in disbelief. The muscles that aren't numbed by cold are now buzzing with adrenaline, the overwhelming fight-or-flight reaction that's overtaken him.

Yuuji is nearly wheezing now, laughter ringing out into the still air and rebounding off the planes of cushioned snow.

Megumi blinks at him, utterly thrown off by this reaction. Sure, Yuuij's never been one to get angry at him, but this? Heat climbs up the back of Megumi's neck, and he's positive that his ears are going crimson.

"Oh my — oh my god, dude." There are genuine tears welling in Yuuji's eyes, and he wipes at them messily with his mittens between stilted inhales, giggles still bubbling out of him as though he's entirely lost control.

"I — I'm sorry…" The panic is still ebbing through Megumi's veins, spurring him to make some placation, to formulate some way to right this wrong. The thought of trudging down this hill to retrieve the sled and then trudging his way back up is positively dismal — it makes his gut turn with reluctance.

Yuuji lets out a final cackle — a guffaw? Megumi's not sure he's ever seen Yuuji laugh this hard, not that that fact really makes him feel any better — before he straightens back up, shoulders shaking with the effort of composing himself.

"I'm sorry." Megumi is almost whispering now, remorse and embarrassment filling every inch of his body with the agonizing need to apologize despite the fact that Yuuji doesn't seem too upset. The opposite, actually, somehow.

Yuuji scrubs a mitten over his face again as he recovers from his laughing fit. "Shit, dude. It just went like, straight whoooosh." Yuuji mimes the motion of the sled's descent with his free hand, and another stab of dejection stings through Megumi.

"Yeah."

Yuuji lets out a winded sigh as they both stare down at the speck of wood, silence returning to the space between them as Megumi wonders, what now?

Yuuji always has an answer.

"So, guess we'll just have to share, then?"

Yuuji has an eyebrow raised coyly as he looks at Megumi from the corner of his eye, one side of his mouth rising into a smirk that betrays his put-out tone — he's not nearly as displeased by the idea as he pretends, and Megumi knows it, and Yuuji knows Megumi knows it.

Megumi plays into it anyway.

"Such a tragedy." He keeps his voice even, tilting his head to mirror Yuuji's expression.

Yuuji's eyes sparkle as a grin overtakes his face, excitement bubbling over to replace any last whisper of dismay that Megumi's fumble might have left hanging.

"Okay, okay, you sit in front." Yuuji is in motion in the space of a blink, shuffling his sled over to the edge and nudging Megumi forward like this had been their plan from the start.

Megumi obliges, scuffing his feet through the snow to take his place, perched on the front half of the sled once Yuuji has it aligned exactly where he wants it. Being in the front seat, Megumi realizes, means he's going to have to hold on to the sled's rope to keep it from getting caught beneath them as they descend. Despite the biting cold, he tugs his gloves off and tucks them in his jacket pocket — he'll be damned if he lets go of a sled rope again in his life.

Yuuji settles into place behind him, more of a vague pressure against Megumi's back than the feeling of a real person, with all their layers of clothing and padding. The toes of Yuuji's boots bump into Megumi's heels as they inch the sled forward to the precipice, the white expanse of snow stretching endlessly ahead of them.

Yuuji's arms nudge their way under Megumi's elbows, snaking around his waist to settle against his stomach. The thick wool of his mittens prickles against the exposed skin of Megumi's hands, but he presses into the contact anyways, frayed sled rope wrapped around his cold-stiffened fingers.

They're close, so close, close enough that Yuuji's breath whispers over the sliver of exposed skin between Megumi's hat and the collar of his jacket, warmer than the surrounding air but sending a shiver across his neck nonetheless.

The close contact spurs something in Megumi, some need to say something, put words to the sheer, overwhelming contentment he finds being wrapped up in Yuuji's arms. He hadn't realized how badly he wanted it, wanted Yuuji, until he had it, and now he wants nothing more than to clutch it close for as long as he's allowed to. His lips part, chapped from the freezing air, heart making its way dangerously close to leaving his tongue.

Yuuji kicks them forward, and in a second, they're flying.

It's exhilarating, rushing down the hill with the wind whipping at his face, Yuuji's arms wrapped tightly around his midsection as they sail downhill. Megumi will concede, it was worth the ordeal of climbing as high as they did.

He has to squint against the freezing air that makes his eyes sting and water, the landscape a blur of pure white as they glide over crests and valleys of snow, cheeks numbed by the wind.

Over the muffled noise of wind rushing past his ears, Yuuji's laughter rings out gleefully, his arms comfortingly secure around Megumi's waist.

It's over quickly, their laborious uphill trek reduced to mere seconds of coasting downhill. As the ground flattens out near the edge of the fields, their momentum slows to a gradual stop. Megumi's heart still hammers madly in his chest, partly from the adrenaline of the descent and partly from the way Yuuji's still holding on to him tightly.

His breath catches when he's suddenly pulled sideways, the world tilting as Yuuji drags them both off the sled and into the snow, arms finally breaking away from Megumi to splay out as though he's making a snow angel.

Yuuji is laughing again, breathless, and Megumi feels it bubbling up in his own chest as he stares up at the sky, the clouds of his breath oddly mesmerizing. He feels like a little kid; he sinks a little deeper into the snowdrift, aware that his hat is getting soaked through with melting snow but uncaring as he watches the gray sky shift above them, clouds gathering together to cover the last remaining patches of blue. Stray snowflakes begin to fall, melting against his cheeks.

A sidelong glance reveals that Yuuji is similarly entranced beside him, cheeks rosy as he stares wide-eyed at the sky, snowflakes catching on his eyelashes as he blinks.

Brown eyes flick over to meet Megumi's.

He'll never get tired of that toothy grin, the smattering of freckles pulled taut over tanned skin as Yuuji smiles back at him, eyes crinkled at the corners.

"So? Worth the hike?" Yuuji raises an eyebrow, as if daring Megumi to contradict him.

Megumi wouldn't dream of it. "Yeah." His nose is running again, cheeks numbed from the wind and eyes stinging in the dry air. His fingers rest bare in the snow, knuckles going stiff. "Worth it." He means it.

Somehow, Yuuji's smile is always able to grow a little wider, a little warmer. He lets out another breath of laughter, a puff of white fog mingling with the falling snow, and then he's straightening up into sitting, readjusting his hat that's gone crooked over his ears and tugging at the collar of his jacket.

"So, next hill, then?" His eyes are already darting around the surrounding landscape, scoping out the terrain.

Megumi heaves himself upright, body heavy and cold from laying in the snow now that the adrenaline has worn off. He hums a vague noise of agreement. There's plenty of time left in the day to cozy up inside later, anyways. Another hour or two of being outside won't kill him, especially with the motivation of a movie night later, buried under blankets with a warm mug of tea in his hands and Yuuji's steady shoulder to lean into.

Yuuji's already standing, tugging the rope of the sled to unstick it from where it's wedged in a snowdrift, and Megumi has no intention of carrying a sled again.

He goes to grab his gloves from where he'd stuffed them in his pocket earlier — and feels nothing but the lining of his coat pocket.

There's no way.

Okay, so maybe a couple more hours in the snow will kill him, actually.

It takes all the energy he has to not flop back down in the snow and resign himself to his fate.

Yuuji hears his sigh of absolute utter dejection, spinning around from where he'd been staring off at some distant hill. God, hopefully he doesn't pick that one to go down next. It'll take them an hour to walk over there.

"What happened." His tone drops into the no-nonsense seriousness usually reserved for missions. It might have been touching, that Yuuji would reach that level of concern at the faintest signal from Megumi, if Megumi wasn't currently feeling like the biggest idiot in the world for the second time today.

He pats futilely at his pocket, as though that might make them rematerialize. "Lost my gloves. They probably fell out of my pocket somewhere on the way down."

Megumi spares a glance back at the tracks of their descent, the upturned snow that marks their path. It becomes immediately apparent that merely looking isn't going to do him any good.

Yuuji realizes this at the same time. "The white ones, right?"

Megumi chews on his lip. The snow is unflinching beneath his glare, pristine ivory that sparkles so brightly it might as well be mocking him. "Yeah. The white ones." White gloves, lost in an endless stretch of white.

"Well, shit."

Megumi only nods in reply.

"Who buys white gloves for the snow, anyways?" That tinge of teasing is back in Yuuji's voice, urging the mood to be lighter, to remind Megumi that this is not, in fact, the end of the world.

Megumi bites at the inside of his cheek. Of course, the answer is obvious. "Gojo." They'd been part of a winter shopping trip a year or two prior, a routine excursion so long as Megumi and Tsumiki kept growing out of their clothes. Megumi suddenly wishes he'd campaigned for the bright pink gloves Tsumiki had gone for.

Yuuji snorts a laugh. "Makes sense. We can find them in the spring, at least. Once the snow melts."

Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as he reconciles with the fact that he's losing any image of self-composure and dignity that he's constructed in Yuuji's eyes. First the sled, now this… He's more concerned with that than losing the gloves themselves; Gojo has no shortage of funds to buy him another pair. "Yeah, I guess so."

When Megumi meets his eyes again, Yuuji only smiles, reaching out to take Megumi's hands into his own, tugging him up into standing and then tucking Megumi's hands into the fleece-lined pockets of his own coat. The motion pulls Megumi forward, and he stumbles a step, caught off guard by the way they're suddenly mere inches apart. His breath catches momentarily as he's brought closer to warm brown eyes and an easy grin.

"I have my own pockets, you know." Megumi fights to keep his voice unimpressed, quiet in the space between them.

Yuuji's smile only widens. There's a freckle by his mouth, invisible unless you're standing this close, right beside the dimple in his cheek. "Lucky for you, mine are warmer."

Megumi's reply stalls in his throat, some witty remark about the improbability of any noticeable temperature differential between them — he's too caught up in the soft curve of Yuuji's mouth, the warm, inviting brown of Yuuji's eyes as his head tilts a fraction closer.

Yuuji's right, because of course somehow he always is and somehow he runs warm even when it's below freezing outside, his pockets a warm haven for Megumi's frozen fingers.

Yuuji momentarily removes his hands, tugging off his mittens and tossing them beside where he left the sled half-freed from the snowbank. His fingers slip back in to intertwine with Megumi's, callused palms and scarred-over knuckles warm and gentle as they coax the chill out of Megumi's hands.

Snowflakes flit between them, catching in the threads of Yuuji's hat, melting against the planes of his face.

Megumi feels himself thawing under Yuuji's gaze, his touch. The exhaustion, the flustered embarrassment, melting away as he stares wide-eyed back into Yuuji's eyes.

That pink tinge is back in Yuuji's cheeks, and Megumi is sure his own are matching. He doesn't really feel the cold, anymore. It must be something else, then, that he sees mirrored back in burnished-copper eyes and a nervous smile; it must be this thing that he had been so scared to put a name to, for so long.

So scared, until he'd found out Yuuji felt the same thing, that clawing, choking feeling of longing that had felt inescapable.

That want didn't go away, he'd learned. He fed it in bits and pieces, hand-holds and long gazes and soft smiles that satiated it for a moment, until it came back. He wonders whether it'll ever change. He wonders what might have happened if he'd started feeding it sooner. He wonders whether he can ever make up for the waiting.

"I really like you."

It's not the first time Yuuji's heard those words from Megumi's mouth — his eyes don't go wide like they did that first time, there's no flash of hesitant uncertainty in their shine. He just smiles, caramel-sweet and soft as he looks back at Megumi.

"I know." The world is muffled by the cushion of snow, dead silence in the falling flurries that blanket over the lilt of Yuuji's voice.

"I just— I want you to know. I mean, I know that you know, I just feel like I have to make sure you know. You know…?" Great, now Megumi's rambling, nerves getting the better of him as his ears heat up and Yuuji is still looking at him like that, like he wants to —

A hand leaves Yuuji's pocket, leaving Megumi's behind as it reemerges into the freezing air. It lands gently on Megumi's jaw — warm, steady, strong.

Yuuji's smile is doing that thing where it goes a little crooked, the way it does when he catches the rare jokes that Megumi throws out to him; when he walks into the kitchen in the mornings to find Megumi curled over a cup of coffee with hair still unkempt; when they're walking back to the train station and he points out the glow of a far-off sunset and then turns to Megumi, as if he's searching for the evening light reflected in Megumi's eyes.

"Yeah, I know."

Megumi is saved from any further senseless ramblings by the soft press of Yuuji's lips against his. His eyes fall shut on instinct, leaning into the cradle of Yuuji's hand on his cheek as they melt together, the single thought of warm, warm, warm overtaking Megumi's mind.

He can feel the curve of Yuuji's smile against his mouth, steady through the push and pull of their contact; it's so unmistakably, comically Yuuji that it draws Megumi into a smile of his own. His own hands, he realizes belatedly, have abandoned Yuuji's pockets to snake upward beneath the fabric of his scarf and clasp tightly to Yuuji's collar — as if he's going anywhere.

Yuuji giggles into his mouth, smile breaking open as they part for air, a momentary interruption before Megumi, absolutely not allowing this to end yet, is tugging Yuuji back in again.

He wants to savor this; wants it to last forever, this moment with just the two of them, out here in the snow and bitter cold, toes numb, hands warm, lips soft.

I like you I like you I like you I like you I like you I like you —

He'll say it a thousand times, if Yuuji will let him. This will suffice, though. A gentle hand on his face, Yuuji's thumbs brushing over his cheekbone, head tilting a fraction to fit their lips together more seamlessly. Paragraphs worth of confessions, reduced to simple touch.

His head is going fuzzy — adrenaline, hypothermia, hypoxia, who's to say what the cause might be. He doesn't want it to end. He never wants it to end. Yuuji seems perfectly willing to never let it end. God, Megumi likes him so much.

Yuuji's other hand finds its way to Megumi's face, palms cradling his cheeks and holding him steady as his mind and body melt.

Megumi's just catching a second wind, gasping for broken breaths in between melding their faces together, when a crow caws loudly from somewhere in the trees beside them.

It scares the shit out of both of them — Megumi nearly jumps out of his skin. He breaks away from a similarly startled Yuuji and sees his own surprise mirrored in Yuuji's blown-out pupils. They stare at each other for a second, too caught off guard to move. Yuuji's hands cling stiffly to Megumi's jaw.

Then Yuuji is giggling again, and suddenly Megumi can breathe, the chill of the air returning full force in the absence of Yuuji's mouth against his. The snow is falling faster now, Megumi realizes as he blinks quickly, snowflakes growing more dense as they swirl in the wind. They're cool against his flushed face, pinpricks of relief on his heated skin. It takes several deep breaths to steady his head again, enough time for Yuuji to recover from his fit of giggles.

Hands still cupping Megumi's face, Yuuji looks at him as though Megumi hung the moon and stars. "You want to go back inside?" His cheeks are nearly glowing, they're so pink.

"We can stay out here, if you want." Megumi would do anything, he thinks, so long as it was with Yuuji by his side.

Yuuji smiles, and Megumi commits it to memory — framed by the falling snow, rosy cheeks and tanned freckles and kiss-tender lips. He can tell Yuuji is evaluating his own expression, measuring whether Megumi really means what he says or if he's just being polite.

"Really, Yuuji. You've been wanting to go sledding, so we can keep sledding." Megumi lets his head tilt in Yuuji's grasp, trying to convey his earnestness.

Yuuji's face lights up, and Megumi knows it was the right move. "Just one more hill? Then I promise, we can go back inside and be cozy and warm." Yuuji looks at him imploringly, as though Megumi would need any convincing.

He is well aware that "one more hill" is a relative phrase, one that will most certainly be uttered again before the day is over. He doesn't mind. Cold fingers, cold toes — insignificant, when Yuuji is glowing so brightly and his smile is so wide and that dimple is on full show and his eyes are alight and —

"Okay." Megumi nods for good measure, and Yuuji finally drops his hands from Megumi's face, excitement palpable.

"Yes! Okay, I promise when we go back I'll make you your favorite tea and you can pick the movie for tonight and I'll make dinner — that soup you like, with the dumplings — and I won't even make you wash the dishes even though you normally do, and —"

Yuuji continues chattering as he collects his mittens from the snow, picking up the rope to his sled and reaching over for Megumi's hand as they start out toward their next summit.

Megumi's hand ends up in Yuuji's coat pocket again as they walk side by side, intertwined with Yuuji's, the other buried in his own pocket. Even as the wind picks up, the chill seems lessened, fended off by the warmth emanating from the hand clasped around Megumi's.

They don't bother making the trek over to collect the second sled. Why bother, when it's more fun, anyways, to share. It might get buried in the snow, but so will Megumi's gloves, somewhere halfway up that hill.

Come spring, when the snow melts and the air warms and the buds start to break through on the trees, they can come back and retrace the trail of their footsteps. The channels they carve through the snow will be long melted, but the warmth in Megumi's chest will remain.