[December 1st] First Snow
First Snow
PG
Author : atomicskull | Artist : loobeeinthesky
It’s grey and overcast when Eames ducks out of the Subway, his head bowed against the cold and chin tucked into his scarf. It’s bitter and he’s expecting that the apocalypse is going to drop out of the sky at any moment in the form of snowy, freezing hell.
He walks quickly, assuring himself that it’s because it’s freezing, not because he’s just a tad excited to see Arthur. They’ve been on opposite sides of the globe for almost two months now, but they’d managed to meet up in the city. Arthur had sent him a text message a few hours ago:
Meet me @ the Met, 7.
Eames, of course, had been more than happy to oblige. He actually spots Arthur standing on the wide front steps from across the street, nose and cheeks looking rather windblown and hands full of Starbucks. Eames hides his grin in his scarf, watching Arthur try to pull his hat further down on his head while not upsetting either of the paper cups in his hands. He only really half succeeds, and his hat remains askew. It’s kind of adorable, especially since it appears to have ear flaps and a tassel and everything. Not a word he’d normally associate with Arthur, but really, he’s pretty sure there is some pattern on the hat.
When he gets across the street and close enough, he sees that the pattern is little fir trees.
“You look cold,” Eames says, standing on the step below Arthur, so that he has to look up at him a bit.
“I’ve been warmer,” Arthur says, and Eames reaches up to straighten his hat. He makes a move like he’s going to bat Eames’ hand away before he realizes he’s got cups. “Here, have tea.”
“I think I will,” Eames says happily, taking the offered cup and sticking his face right over it, savoring the little bit of steam that comes out of the hole in the lid. “Did you see it’s supposed to snow?”
“I’m preparing for the worst,” Arthur sighs. “The city shuts down in fear at the year’s first storm.” Eames laughs, and they stand there for a second, savoring the steam and the warmth, before Eames hops up a step and presses their shoulders together, grinning at Arthur.
“Yes?” Arthur asks, raising an eyebrow, and Eames swoops in, pressing a kiss to Arthur’s lips. It’s warm when Arthur parts his lips in a little oh, and then he’s kissing back, licking his way into Eames’ mouth and turning towards him.
It’s when a flake gets caught on Arthur’s lashes that Eames pulls back, realizing that it’s started snowing.
“Well look at that,” Eames murmurs, staring skyward. There are white specks falling out of the dark sky, reflected in the lights from the front of the museum. “My first New York snowfall.”
“It’ll be gross by tomorrow morning,” Arthur assures him, smirking, and Eames just shakes his head, sneaking in to press another kiss to Arthur’s now-warm lips.
