Something Magical

There's something magical about Christmas Eve. Especially if that night also happens to hold the season's first snowflakes. When there is nothing but swirling, soft whiteness. So innocent and unbroken. So fresh and new. Absolutely anything can happen in the snow. Laughter can fill the air, or tears can freeze on one's cheeks. And if you are really lucky, both. Something about tears from laughter. It makes a man stronger.

"Look at the snow! It's like another world!" A handful of innocence is tossed in the air, and allowed to rain down into the dark hair of a man who could be described as having anything but.

"Dude... why did you call me out of my nice warm bed for this?" A deep, husky voice shattered the otherwise silent night. Strong, glove encased fingers came up to brush against a slightly pointed, but still perfect nose. "I had finally gotten comfortable and... n-now... huh... Heh'KSSH! Eh'KSSH! Huh... ISSSHH!!" A sniffle, a cough, and a half glare from flashing eyes.

"And now?" Words and the warmth of one's breath mingled with the other's. What would be a dry remark is cut off when cold, wet lips are pressed against warm dry ones. Something magical is found as snow gently settles upon them, finding a new home in the creases of their clothing, down their collars, inside their jackets. He shivers and wants to pull away, but can't. Settles for closer. Always closer with him. Pulling away does not work. Pulling back can not exist. The absence of this soft skin makes his mind sing, while his heart falls into shadows. Only to be awakened again by his touch.

It's almost automatic the way long, slim arms will come up to circle around a neck that is at just the right spot to bury his face into. It's like a second nature to press himself closer to the other, not just for warmth but for something more. For heat. Perfection is found in those lips, that embrace, under that snow. He doesnt know' what he's doing. He loves what he's doing. He can't stop. He doesn't want to stop. Stop. He doesn't stop, and never has. He never will.

It has to, even though he doesn't. "You never stop." A smile can't help but crawl slowly over a pale-yet-pink face, and dark eyes are lowered almost shyly. Soft laughter fills the air, driving a shiver down an already chilled man's spine. From somewhere deep in the city, church bells ring.

"Merry Christmas, Ryo." Cool softness pressed against feverish warmth. The half-exotic man smiled, until a sniffle made him pull away from the perfect embrace in the middle of a frozen night.

"Huh'KSSHH!" A sniffle, and he's in control again. Turning back, he picked the smile up and brushed the snow from its edges before offering it to his partner. "Merry Christmas, Dee."

Four become two, become one. It's magical how the coldest night of the year can suddenly feel so very warm.