Day 14 ~ Snow PG-13
14
SnowIt is minus fuck knows how many degrees, his nose is leaking, his feet are wet and cold and they really, really, really should be heading home -to warmth.
But it is snowing, thick fat flakes and everything is blanketed under it. Still white and pure, as fresh layers keep falling, piling high enough Shishido has trouble walking, not to mention running, which really sucks because Choutarou is advancing on him, hands full of snow. Shishido scampers in between some trees, but knows that in the long run this isn't going to do him much good. His partner really is at an advantage: a good chunk of his height is in his legs and whereas Shishido sinks into it almost up to knees, Choutarou has a few centimeters extra there, just enough to walk. Shishido trips and hitches through it and alright, yeah, he's the dumbass who insisted on wearing jeans. There are clots of snow packed into the coarse fabric, soaking it and it weighs… and he really is in deep shit.
The first snowball catches him on his left shoulder -oompf- a definite Choutarou kinda shot, hard and fast. He's close and gaining.
The second catches him in the back of his knee, unbalancing him. Right behind him.
The third is poised at the nape of his neck. Choutarou got him.
"I yield!" Shishido pants quickly. Enough. Before long he'll be a walking icicle, he doesn't need that snowball down his back.
Snow kisses his skin. Shishido yelps and looks over his shoulder. Choutarou would look… well, ridiculously adorable, what with his cheeks and nose red from the cold and the thick multi-colored knit hat and matching shawl. Cute, if it weren't for that serious look of his. Even funnier that between the two of them Choutarou is the only one aptly dressed for the occasion, but for one detail: gloves. His hands are a livid red clutch around the icy ball.
"You murdered my snowman," he says. His breath clouds in the air between them.
Shishido rolls his eyes. "I… just gave him a face-lift," he holds up his gloved hands, makes a small space between his thumb and index finger. "Just a small one."
There's a distinct dribble of melting slush tricking into his collar. Shishido hisses and then shivers when Choutarou whispers into his ear: "You chopped off his head."
"It was for the greater good!" Shishido insists and then squirms frantically as a clump of less melted snow slides down his neck. "FUCK DON'T! I-I-I'll make it up to you!"
The pressure lessens.
Shishido breathes in relief. Dammit, Choutarou doesn't kid when he's out for revenge. And all that for a goddamn snowman.
Only after there's the distinct soft crunch of the packed-tight ball breaking through the softer snow on the ground, does he turn around.
Choutarou arches an eyebrow. "You will. How?" he states more than asks. His tough guy act would be more convincing if he wasn't trying to rub his own hands warm, both of them red as though scalded with boiling water.
Shishido frowns. Takes of his gloves.
"Yeah," he says. Both of them recognize the change in his voice, one word, still rough and graceless, but something in Choutarou's face softens as Shishido reaches for those red hands.
There's a small hiss of pain/pleasure as Shishido closes his own warm ones around Choutarou's, too small compared to his partner's to cover them properly. The fingers stick out of his clasp, looking awful and too lived, so Shishido lowers his head and breathes on them. It can't be good that they are so cold, like icicles, and the next logical step is using his mouth.
One by one he takes them between his lips and heck, yeah, that can't be really hygienic or whatever, but he doesn't quite care. Especially not when Choutarou's first reaction is absolute silence, almost tense because the heat of his mouth on his frozen hands will hurt some, but then there's a small intake of air.
Shishido grins, looks up through his lashes and quite demonstratively opens his mouth wider, to swallow the finger whole. Sucks. Slowly. Intently. Makes sure to use he tongue when he pulls back, adds a wet smack as he lets it go.
"Like this?" he suggests.
"Uhm." Choutarou stares. His face is redder than before. "I. Ah. Uh-"
"Home?" Shishido offers.
"Yes!" Choutarou nods quickly, catches on to his overzealous reaction and adds a sheepish: "Please."
"Alright," Shishido agrees. He laces his fingers with Choutarou's as they tromp through the park towards the civilized world again.
He doesn't really mind paying for his crimes. Not like that.
Besides.
It's for the greater good, right?