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"Snow day!" Ian shouted, sounding just like a schoolboy. The purest delight was radiating off of him in waves.
He and Quinn kept the radio on the dresser these days, so one of them would have to get out of bed to turn off the alarm. It prevented a case of the perpetual pushing of the snooze button, which had happened when Quinn kept it on his night stand. Ian clicked off the radio and gave his herven an incandescent grin, which Quinn answered with a lazy smile.
They had set the alarm for 6 a.m., so they could make it to their First Period classes in the snowy weather. They'd been planning to take the Audi in, because Ian had bought the new model in 2016, to finally replace his beloved classic. It was still pure Gallia, though, with essential winter features like four-wheel drive, heated seats, and state-of-the-art snow tires by Bridgestone.
The professors knew that they needed top-of-the-line equipment to deal with their local weather safely. Luke University rarely closed during the wintertime -- despite being in Dutchess County in Upstate New York -- or they'd be hard-pressed to hold any classes at all from December through March.
It had been snowing overnight, and when Quinn gazed out of the bedroom window, he saw at least eight inches of powdery snow, with more coming down all the time. Ethereal, he thought, since it was beautiful as long as you didn't have to drive in it. The green overnight light on the outside of their home gave the snow a magical luster in the pre-dawn hush. He looked at the outdoor thermometer -- seven degrees Fahrenheit. He shivered involuntarily and felt goosebumps forming on his arms and legs, despite being all but swaddled in flannel.
It was a little before 6 o'clock, so they'd beaten the alarm, but Ian had flicked on the local news station on their radio anyway to listen for school closings. Since Luke started with an 'L', they had to wait an interminable fifteen minutes to hear their university's status. And then, finally, they heard some of the best words ever broadcast:
"Luke University -- All campuses closed on Wednesday, February 22nd. Classes to resume on Thursday, February 23rd."
No ambiguity about that! Quinn fervently thanked the administration for being so decisive well before the start of the morning rush hour. Sometimes in the past, they had waited until 7 or 8 o'clock to announce the closing, and he and Ian had already driven in before they heard that classes were cancelled. Then, they'd faced the dismal prospect of driving home, along with the risks that entailed, and all for nothing.
This was the first snow day of the Spring Semester, and the professors were over the moon of Endor about it. They were still in their flannel pajamas and thick socks, and had pulled on their tartan bathrobes against the chill of an early morning in Alder Run.
"Yay!" Ian said, doing an impromptu jig on the bedroom carpet. "No ice-skating to class!"
"No driving in blizzard conditions," Quinn joined in more sedately but just as happily. And his dancing was also as exuberant as Ian's, when they cut a rug together.
Their merriment woke Sandy and Artoo, and the pups bounded into the room, eager to celebrate with their dads. They looked like adorable balls of fur at this time of year, since the men didn't want to give them a haircut until the spring, so they could keep nice and warm all winter long. Luckily, they also had an assortment of cute sweaters that Prudence and Violet had knitted for them. They were the best-dressed puppies in Alder Run, thought Quinn, completely unbiased as he was.
The men scooped up the pups, who felt velvety soft with all of their extra fur. Then all four of them danced together, with a lot of kisses, licks, and cuddles along the way, as they moved over the carpet. Ian sang the first line of one of his favorite anthems from childhood, adapting Alice Cooper's lyrics for the time of year:
"School's out for the winter!"
He really belted it out, as befit the rebellious spirit of the music. The puppies wagged their tails enthusiastically.
Now, Quinn was laughing, as well as dancing, while he held a wriggling Artoo. "I used to sing that song every year when I was coming home on the last day of classes, from elementary school through grad school."
"Me, too." Ian grinned at Quinn and scritched Sandy and Artoo. "Wow! I'll never forget that feeling of freedom. It was so intoxicating."
"Exhilarating!" Quinn nodded his agreement into Sandy's soft fur. "I'd break the school sprinting record running home to my parents." He chuckled. "Mom wouldn't let me have any junk food then, or the additional sugar rush would've powered me all the way to Coruscant and back."
Ian snorted. "I'd fly out the door of my junior high at the last bell." He giggle-snorted so much that only Quinn could understand his words: "Must've looked like I was using Force-enhanced speed."
"I can just see you soaring, laddie mine." Quinn ruffled his herven's hair, while Artoo yipped happily at both of them.
"And the funny thing," said Ian, "is that both of us actually enjoyed going to school."
Quinn winked at him. "Absolutely, and I daresay we still do, but there's nothing like a bit o' time off, especially when it's a surprise."
Ian nodded. "Chancellor Vellum doesn't like to cancel classes; he's very conscientious." He petted Artoo into a puddle of puppy love. "We've only had seven snow days in the past three years. In Upstate New York, if you'd believe it."
"And trust you to remember every last one, Ian." Quinn winked at him, relishing the chance to tease his husband.
Sandy gave out a soulful yip, which reminded his dads that the pups hadn't been fed yet. They set the puppies down and watched them trotting up the hallway. Then the men put on their fleece-lined moccasins, so they could follow the pups to the kitchen without freezing their feet off.
It was still dark outside, and Ian clicked the light on. He usually didn't like getting up in the morning before the sun rose, but he was so pleasantly buzzed from the cancellation of classes today that he couldn't go back to sleep anyway.
While Ian fed and watered the pups, Quinn started a cozy fire going in the fireplace. Then Quinn peeked out of the living-room blinds to see if their street had been plowed yet. No such luck. When Quinn came back into the kitchen, he gave Ian a good-morning kiss and hug.
Holding Ian in his arms, Quinn asked, "What's your pleasure, mo gra?" (my love) "We've got plenty of time for a change, so I'm in the mood to indulge my favorite laddie."
"How about some banana buttermilk pancakes with the rum maple syrup that Amy and Danny Walker sent us last week?"
"I'm droolin' already, m'lad." Quinn gave him a squeeze, then disentangled to prepare the meal, while Ian set the table.
Ian cut the bananas into bite-sized pieces, humming as if he were slicing them with his blue lightsaber. Quinn gave out an indulgent chuckle as he mixed the batter, then buttered the griddle. Ian got spiced apple cider from the refrigerator and poured it into their glasses. He had just enough time to make cappuccinos for them before Quinn finished a stack of flapjacks, sliding them onto a stoneware serving plate with a spatula.
Quinn got the rum maple syrup from the cabinet across from the fridge and sat at the table next to his husband. He proudly gave the top three pancakes to Ian, then took the next three for himself. Light and fluffy, and the tiniest bit underdone -- they came out perfectly. The men swirled on the syrup, Quinn with a heavy hand, while Ian had a lighter touch.
Ian dabbed a bit of pancake into the syrup and took the first bite. "Mmmmmm. Thank you, handsome."
Quinn was gratified by his laddie's reaction. "You're welcome." He started to eat with gusto; there was something about pancakes on a winter morning that whispered of homemade magic.
While they ate, the sun came up as they chatted about the semester, giving the kitchen a cheery glow to match their sparkling eyes.
Ian said, "Now I'll have to move my midterm forward a couple of days, so I have time to cover the end of 'The House of the Seven Gables', because there's a question about it on the exam."
"I'm a bit envious that you got to teach the Hawthorne course this semester, love." Quinn patted his hand, to show that he had no hard feelings for Ian himself, only for Case, who had assigned both of their course schedules.
"Wouldn't mind trading with you, if we could," Ian said, basking in the warmth of the hand over his. "But you have to admit that you're a perfect fit to teach James Joyce."
Eyes shining with mirth, Quinn spoke in a thick Irish brogue, "Ah, that I am, mo beag lad." (my little lad) He took two more pancakes from the stack, pouring syrup on them with abandon, for a breakfast worthy of a lumberjack.
Ian chortled. "Love it! You've certainly convinced me of your credentials."
Quinn bowed in his seat, while he finished a little bite of heaven, then said, "But I've still got the same problem that you do with logistics, Ian. Since I have my midterm scheduled a week after yours, at least I'll have more time to compensate for the missed lesson."
Ian asked, "You're starting to teach 'A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man' after the exam, right?"
"Yes, in about a month," Quinn answered. "So the adventures of Stephen Dedalus won't be postponed by our time off today." He ate the last bite of pancake with relish.
Ian had already finished his smaller portion, and the kitchen was illuminated in full daylight by now. Quinn washed the dishes, while Ian dried them, as usual. Then they headed to the sofa recliner in the living room to watch television. They'd recorded the European Skating Championships, because they were too busy to see them in January, what with the start of the semester, when they were first broadcast. They decided to watch the long programs of the top skaters in only three out of the four disciplines, since the competition had taken many hours to complete. Ian cued up the events in their preferred order.
The men were happy to see that many of their favorites had skated there: Carolina Kostner in ladies' singles; Javier Fernandez in men's singles; Gabriella Papadakis and Guillaume Cizeron in ice dancing. They'd deliberately not looked up the standings on the internet, in order to keep the results a surprise, like their snow day itself.
"She hasn't missed a beat," said Quinn, while admiring Carolina's free skate, with music by Vivaldi that was as beautiful as her moves.
Ian nodded into Quinn's shoulder, nuzzling into the age-softened flannel there. "It's gotta be tough coming back after a few years away from competition."
After the ladies' long program, Ian had cued the DVD to Javier Fernandez rocking the house down, skating to Elvis Presley. The men danced along on the couch, bopping their legs on the recliner. Javier's jump landings were a little wild, but it was an engaging performance.
"He has to clean up his jumps for Worlds," Ian said, hoping Javier would do just that, because even though he'd won Europeans, he would be facing Nathan Chen, the phenom from the U.S., at the World Championships. Chen had performed five quadruple jumps to win the national championships and looked unbeatable. Ian wanted to see an epic competition this spring.
Papadakis and Cizeron brought enchantment to the event. They ended their skate to Arnalds' song, 'Happiness Does Not Wait', and both the skating and song were exquisite.
The music became a lullaby for Quinn and Ian. As they snuggled into one another, they lost track of the coverage. They napped while cuddled together on the couch, making up for the sleep they'd missed when listening for the school closings. Rest and relaxation soaked into their pores, just what they needed after the fifth week of the semester, what with spring break still more than a month away.
The snow continued to fall outdoors, but inside our little family was happy and warm: the puppies in their baskets and the men in each other's arms.