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Winter is cold and cozy. Ruben sits at home, clutching a warm mug in his hands. It’s cold outside in February. They’ve only just arrived, but soon they’ll be heading back out — Vova had wanted to meet him for so long that he just couldn't let him leave.
Bratishkin finds his eyes likable — they are kind and cheerful, with the bright sparkle of the New Year's celebrations past. But in Vova's eyes, Rubius himself sees a fire. A conflagration of heat and flame. Nothing like him, and yet at the same time so much like him that Rubius feels the tips of his ears grow red, and not at all from the biting winter frost. Inside, he feels warmth and joy.
"Are you warm now, Ruby?" — asking this, Semenyuk for some reason places his hands on top of Ruben’s, as if trying to warm up himself. To melt all the ice that had accumulated as a result of dirty business and hypocrisy on Twitch.
The foreigner’s smile makes Vova flinch. The man nods. They are being too kind to him. That's not how it should be — that's not allowed.
Rubius dresses quickly, much faster than his Russian friend. Outside, while waiting for Bratishkin, Ruben catches snowflakes in his bare palms — pale, quick-melting, and frivolous. like his own infatuation.
”You fool, put your mittens on!” Vova scolds him, though he himself is standing there with his hands just as bare. Then he hands his friend the bag forgotten in the hallway. ”There you go. I don’t get why you’re always lugging it around. What’ve you got in there — Pentagon secrets?”
”Vov, I’m not even from America. Shall we go?”
That light, charming smile of his makes Semenyuk flinch and turn away again involuntarily. A blush creeps across his cheeks — it's all, absolutely all, from the cold. From the cold February nights...
And his lips are not at all alluring in the glow of the bright streetlights. Not one bit!
They walk in silence. In the quiet of the night, the soft, cozy atmosphere fills the empty space in their minds with thoughts of how right it feels to be with him. Both of them feel it. It's cozy. Snow keeps falling and falling on the hood-covered tops of their heads. And Semenyuk feels himself rapidly melting and falling apart from just his smile, his gaze—so piercing and inescapable—and his scent, stereotypically intoxicating. Only he has this effect.
In the green, cat-like eyes of Vova, Rubius catches his own reflection, and in it, he sees fear. Real fear of this guy, of his secret essence, and of the love he feels for him. Infatuation... Fondness.
All of it. The silence will soon start devouring him if he doesn't end it. This damn silence. What... what should he say? What can he talk about? How does he break this awful tension?
”Are all your winters this cold.. How do you even live here? Haven’t you turned into an ice statue yet, Vov?”
”Turning into snowmen is our tradition by now, Ruby.”
Rubius laughs. Only his mother ever called him that. Vova is clearly not her, but the comparison makes the guy snort.
”Huh? What are you laughing at?” The Spaniard found this question even funnier. He was practically crying with laughter. “Hey, what’s so funny?!”
”Oh, it’s just that only my mom calls me that, and for a second I pictured you in her role.”
A couple of seconds of realization, and Semenyuk started laughing along with his friend, practically choking on the icy air. The plumes of white vapor were just as thick as from a disgusting vape.
”Seriously, dude? Then fuck, you’re my dad! You just need to put on a little weight. And it'll be perfect! Come on, let’s shake hands, darling!”
Without stopping smiling, Ruben shook Vova’s hands. But afterwards, he found himself unwilling to let go; he simply lowered their clasped hands. Without even understanding why, Ruben then took a firmer hold, his fingers tightening. Their eyes met, the smiles on their faces froze, even though they kept walking and swinging their hands.
Bratishkin’s smile disappeared first. The foreigner felt a jolt of fear — had he done something wrong? Why had Vova’s expression changed so abruptly? And he stopped...
In reality, a childlike confusion appeared on his face. They’re holding hands — and what now? He likes Rubi, but does Rubi like him? Is it okay to kiss him? How cute, a snowflake landed on his nose... Oh, he wrinkled it, fuck. Vova is about to drop dead right here on the spot.
”Vova?”
”Huh?”
”If you want to kiss me, go ahead”
At this declaration, the streamer choked on air and immediately broke into a coughing fit, wrapping his arms around his stomach. How did he guess?!
”How did you..”
”Well, you've been staring at my lips for a full minute. Hard to miss. Go on, if you want. It’s mutual anyway.”
Since Bratishkin continued to stand there like a stone statue, gazing at him with those captivating eyes, Rubius was the one who took a step forward. He first pressed his lips to Vova's pinkish cheek—its skin unbelievably soft—before sliding them down to his mouth. He wanted to swear the filthiest Russian curses from the overwhelming sensation of pure bliss settling inside him. While he was kissing him. While he was molding his lips, slowly squeezing his shoulders—clad in the warm fabric of his jacket—with a pressure that made the bones seem to creak, and his tongue demanded submission, as if Ruben himself were the imperative, and Vova the declarative principle that needed to be subjugated.
With these actions, Rubius was aiming to tear that coveted moan from his lips — and he succeeded. Vova’s mouth fell open, emitting a muffled sound that sent a wave of confusion through the streamer’s body, forcing a shudder from him as if he’d taken a gulp of iodine against his mother’s warnings and now had a fever.
And are Russian people’s hands always cold? But their lips are warm. And their hearts.
At some point, Semyonuk loses his balance, and together with Rubi, he falls onto the snow, pressing his whole body against him in fright. Catching his friend's gaze, Ruben starts laughing again.
"What's so funny?!" Vova finally comes back to life and asks quietly, but with annoyance.
"You're cute when you're scared. I like you, Vov.”
The aforementioned streamer's gaze changes, growing a touch warmer. Now he too leans in for a kiss, doing it roughly, insistently, until he's interrupted — Rubius wants to explore the other's neck. Baring it to the fierce cold, he warms it with his hot mouth, making Bratishkin tremble beneath him. Cold, hot, and fucking amazing: that's all he knows at this moment.
”I'm frozen stiff," he whispers into the snow-dampened hair, catching a disapproving look. "We can continue at home.”
"Looking for a sequel?" Oh, that signature Spanish smile of his. Damn foreigner.
"Keep smiling like that, and I'll buy you a one-way ticket to Spain on the first flight. Understood?”
Ruben didn't answer, just kept smiling mysteriously, his hand still gripping Vova's palm tightly — the man who had so deeply gotten under his skin.