Soft light emanates from only a few table lamps in the cozy living room. Classical music is playing on the iPod dock perched on the mantle, and everything is warm and rich and perfect. Yixing extends his arms over his head, a happy sound coming from his throat as he stretches his coiled muscles. When his eyes flutter open again, he casts his gaze out the window. Wu Fan notices the frown flit across his face at the swirling storm and inky blackness he finds beyond the glass.

“I really can’t stay tonight, Wu Fan.” Yixing stands up, crossing his arms across his chest and moving in front of the big picture window in the elder’s living room. He busies his nervous hands with winding his thick wool scarf around his neck. Wu Fan soon follows him, his own arms snaking around Yixing’s waist as he rests his chin on his shoulder.

“Yixing, baby, it’s so cold outside. You don’t want to venture out in that.” He mumbles into the brunette’s warm shoulder, nuzzling his nose against a small peek of soft flesh. Yixing hums a little, reaching up to the side of Wu Fan’s face.

“No, I really should go… Tonight has been so wonderful, even though I came over unannounced. Aren’t you sick of me yet?” He laughs under his breath, nudging his temple against his companion’s.

“Never,” Wu Fan murmurs, enclosing Yixing’s delicate hand in his larger one. “See, your hands are already so cold, you can’t go outside now. Let me put another log on the fire.”

“But I—”

“What if I mix you another drink?” Wu Fan purrs. Yixing bites his lip, contemplating the offer. He tries to subtly glance at his empty glass on the coffee table. Wu Fan grins and takes the silence as a yes, pressing a kiss to Yixing’s cheek and stepping back to the counter where various crystal decanters sit refracting the light of the fireplace.

Yixing is still watching the snow swirl furiously against the backdrop of the night sky, illuminated only by the lone street lamp across the way. He presses his hand to his chest. He really should go; he needs to get back home, and he has to work tomorrow and, oh god what if…

“Your neighbors might think…” They’ve seen Yixing’s car at Wu Fan’s house plenty of times, and if they see that he stays there overnight… He turns just as Wu Fan brushes against his side, two glasses half-filled with mahogany liquid in his hands. He offers one to Yixing. The brunette looks him in the eye; worry etched into his features, but grabs it all the same and lifts it eagerly to his lips. He splutters a little as the liquid flows down his throat, much stronger than the last one he had. He shivers involuntarily as the liquor burns his insides. Just what is this; vodka and food coloring?

“Who cares what they think? You’re my Yixing and you’re beautiful.” Unfazed, Wu Fan rubs his palm in between the younger’s shoulder blades. Yixing sniffs his glass.

“Jesus, Wu Fan, what’s in this drink?”

“It’s bourbon.” Wu Fan says plainly. He watches his lover attempt to take another sip. It goes down a little easier now, but it still makes his eyes squint. “Now that you’ve been drinking, you definitely can’t drive yourself home. And I don’t know of any cabs that would want to go and drive out in this mess.” Wu Fan sips his own drink effortlessly and brushes his hand down Yixing’s back in order to curl it around his waist.

“You are something else.” The younger muses, lifting an eyebrow. Nevertheless, he leans into the touch and presses his side against his lover’s. As warm breath cascades along the brunette’s skin, he attempts to draw himself back to reality. “B-But you know, I really should head out before it gets any worse…”

Wu Fan makes a noncommittal noise, burying his face into soft brown hair. He inhales deeply, relishing the scent that is so distinctly Yixing.

“Look at the snow, baby,” Wu Fan whispers, slipping behind the younger and winding his arms loosely around his neck. He perches his chin on the top of Yixing’s head now, looking out the window along with him. “It’s absolutely disastrous out there.”

“It’s just a flurry…”

“It’s a blizzard.”

“Wu Fan.”

Wu Fan leans forward in response, kissing the side of Yixing’s mouth tenderly. He coaxes out the satisfied moan he sought after and grins as he carries on. Slowly, his long, nimble fingers grasp the edge of Yixing’s scarf. He tugs once, but it just gets caught around his lover’s throat. Yixing laughs outright, and Wu Fan feigns offense.

As he carefully unravels each loop of the scarf, Wu Fan places a lingering kiss to each newly exposed inch of skin. Yixing closes his eyes and leans heavily against the strong chest behind him; the younger’s breath leaves him in delighted sighs.

Once the strip of woolen fabric falls to the carpet, Wu Fan tightens his grip around Yixing’s waist.

“Now, think of it this way,” He says, barely bothering to lift his mouth from Yixing’s skin as he speaks. The vibrations travel down the younger’s spine and leave him absolutely speechless. “What if I gave in, and let you leave now to go home, only to get the phonecall tomorrow from the hospital saying you’ve died of pneumonia? How do you think I would feel, baby?”

“You can’t die overnight from pneumonia.” Yixing says dryly, tilting his head in order to give Wu Fan more skin to kiss.

“I’d feel so guilty,” Wu Fan continues, conveniently ignoring Yixing’s logic. “That I didn’t at least make love to you one last time.” He nibbles on the shell of his lover’s ear.

“Your neighbors are definitely going to talk about this tomorrow.” Yixing mumbles. Wu Fan chuckles as he slides his hands under Yixing’s shirt; splaying his fingers and caressing the smooth skin pulled taut over his lean frame. The younger lets another moan escape, lifting his arms over his head to bury his own hands in Wu Fan’s hair. With a firm grip on Yixing’s hips, the blond spins him around and presses their foreheads together.

“So?” Wu Fan breathes, leaning in to kiss him properly. Yixing parts his lips just enough to allow Wu Fan to slide his tongue along his lower lip. The elder’s arms are wound around him so tightly, he wants nothing more than to melt into Wu Fan’s embrace and stay with him eternally.

“There’s no escaping now, I guess.” Yixing teases in a whisper once they break apart. Wu Fan nips at his jaw and leads him to the plush sofa, pressing him into the cushions with his hands and lips.

The crackling fire takes over when the classical playlist ends, melding with the sound of their love and the howling wind outside, creating a soundtrack that melts Yixing’s heart.

He decides that everything is so much warmer between them because baby, it’s cold outside.