The weather had been erratic and unpredictable throughout the winter. The change of the seasons was so close that the grass and trees should have been coming back from the dead to paint the town a sharp, freshly-grown green. Yet the melancholy of white and ice and bitter cold clung to Seoul and all of its lawns and sidewalks, the snow just barely melting away after a recent two-day “heat wave” of 50 degrees. Tonight, that wave faded away and in its place were temperatures that would be considered a normal cold in January, this point in particular Youngbae made sure to tell an inebriated Jiyong walking next to him.

“Aish, why did you insist to everyone that we’d be fine walking back to the studio? It’s freezing out here, Ji.”

Youngbae roughly pulled his black beanie down over his ears. He cupped his hands and brought them to his mouth, blowing on them in hopes of thawing them, but quickly gave up in favor of stuffing them into the front pockets of his hoodie. Meanwhile, Jiyong was doing small, clumsy twirls on the sidewalk, his designer black jacket spreading open more and more as he spun, the jacket’s many gold adornments swaying with him.

Youngbae side-glanced incredulously. “How are you not cold?”

Jiyong suddenly paused in the middle of the sidewalk at the question, Youngbae nearly bumping right into him. “Well, to answer your first question, I’m sick of cabs and cars and limos and… driving. It all . I just want to walk around, don’t you? We don’t ever get to do that anymore.” Jiyong pouted and Youngbae tried his hardest to mask a smile at the gesture with an eye-roll. “And for your second one… what was that again?”

Youngbae hung his head back and sighed, bringing it back down heavily only to see Jiyong innocently looking at him, waiting for Youngbae to repeat his question. For a moment, he swore he felt a wet drop fall on the bridge of his nose, but decided not to pay it much mind as he rubbed it away. “Your jacket’s hanging out like it’s summertime. You can’t honestly tell me you’re not cold.”

“…I can tell you honestly that I don’t feel cold.” Jiyong smiled, this time a little less innocently.

“Right. Of course not. Probably the alcohol’s fault,” Youngbae muttered just loud enough for Jiyong to hear as he started walking. But Jiyong scoffed, not moving from his spot.

“Dong Youngbae, are you insinuating that I’m drunk? Because I am not drunk!”

Youngbae simply continued walking while waving a dismissive hand in the air, not believing the blond. Jiyong let out an offended scoff and ran to catch up to Youngbae.

“It’s the truth! I’m not drunk! Maybe a tiny bit tipsy, but otherwise, I’m a completely functional member of society.”

 Youngbae raised a skeptic eyebrow as Jiyong pulled at Youngbae’s hoodie to emphasize a desperation for Youngbae to believe him. “Here, I’ll prove it!” Jiyong looked about his surroundings before landing on the perfect spot to defend his claims. “I’ll walk the crack of this sidewalk in a straight line.”

And Jiyong indeed walked it in a straight line, however Youngbae remained unconvinced. Jiyong could see it on his face. Another idea formed, and without warning, Jiyong walked back to Youngbae in such a fluid motion that the next thing Youngbae knew, Jiyong was inches from his face. And now, instead of cold stinging his cheeks, Youngbae could feel his face prickling with heat.

“What are you doing?” Youngbae asked slowly.

“Smell.”

The word was said so curtly that it pulled Youngbae out of his flustered daze and fought to understand Jiyong’s motives. “What?”

“Smell my breath.”

“…Why?”

Now Jiyong rolled his eyes, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Just do it. And tell me if I reek of alcohol like you think I do.”

“You’re so strange.”

But Youngbae complied anyway. He’d probably have agreed to swim in the frigid Yellow Sea if Jiyong asked him. Stupid as that sounded, Jiyong would’ve found a way to convince him; he always did. After a second of hesitation, Youngbae leaned closer so he could catch the smell of Jiyong’s breath, the biting air making that somewhat of a struggle at first. When he found that only a faint scent of tequila (and a multitude of café pastries Youngbae apparently hadn’t seen him eat) lingered on Jiyong’s breath, he pulled back.

“Huh,” he finally said, his belief swayed in Jiyong’s favor.

“See? I told you.” Jiyong scrunched his face up and stuck his tongue out before they continued walking.

“Okay, okay, I believe you,” Youngbae chuckled, gently nudging Jiyong with his shoulder and not feeling bad about doing so now that he knew for sure Jiyong had a sense of balance. It was then that he felt another couple of wet drops fall on his cheeks. He looked up, seeing only tiny snowflakes falling, so light that they were carried off with the slightest gust of wind. “So, wait, how much did you have to drink at Twosome?”

“Just two shots of tequila. Teddy-hyung opened up a café, not a bar, you know.”

“Still, didn’t know cafés had tequila,” Youngbae mused.

Though maybe, Youngbae thought, since it was Teddy’s café, his would have some alcoholic drinks. Then again, Twosome was not only a café, but a music and art studio. For the first time in a while, all the members of BigBang had been at the grand opening, even with Daesung’s Japanese promotions and Jiyong’s solo tour preparations. Teddy had been a big part of BigBang’s success and their lives, after all. Youngbae supposed it would make sense for all the members to drop what they were doing to support their hyung. The event was especially memorable when Jiyong and Seunghyun walked in together, wearing the same black jacket with dozens upon dozens of sparkling embellishments stuck to them; they only differed by the cut, Seunghyun’s being a little longer. Jiyong wouldn’t go into details, but said Seunghyun lost a bet, and that was the reason he was dressed like a Jiyong clone. Teddy called it “artsy”. Seunghyun said nothing and kept his sunglasses on the whole time.

“And you know I can hold my liquor.” Jiyong’s boasting voice took Youngbae out of his head.

“I sure do…” Boy, did he ever. But it was true; to an extent Jiyong could hold his liquor, although two shots wasn’t really too much for the slimmer man.

This fact prompted another question.

“But why are we walking back if you’re not drunk?”

“Weren’t you listening before? Ugh, I swear it’s you who’s drunk.” Jiyong side-stepped just a bit closer to Youngbae, and slipped a hand into the front pocket of Youngbae’s hoodie. Youngbae jumped at the contact, ceasing to walk and instead taking a step back away from Jiyong. Because they were out in public and, contrary to what he’d told him, Jiyong was most definitely freezing cold.

“Ji...” Youngbae warned, panic evident in his voice.

Jiyong closed the gap between the two of them, reaching out and resting his hands on Youngbae’s shoulders. “Bae, calm down. Just look around you.”

Youngbae’s eyes rested on Jiyong’s composed face, then shifted around the city streets. They’d gotten to a more mellow part of Seoul, one without office buildings and less parked cars by sidewalks. It was usually littered with passersby anyway, but right now, it was nearly empty save for the occasional true-blue drunkards walking by on the opposite side of the street. That it was 1AM last Youngbae had checked while at Twosome also probably had something to do with the unusual barrenness. The only things looking down at them were the overhead streetlamps and the occasional illuminated sign in the window of a shop place.

“We’re… alone.” Speaking it alone made Youngbae’s anxiety go down. Acknowledging it stunned him. How long it’d been since he’d been able to say that.

Jiyong nodded, biting down on his lower lip as he grinned. “Like I said, we never get to be alone anymore. I’m not drunk or tired or anything like that. I just wanted to walk home alone with you. No fans, no bodyguards, no one. Nobody to stare at us because it’s us, or it’s… us.” Jiyong made distinct hand motions to signify the different “us”s, the first meaning “celebrities,” the second meaning “two males.”

Youngbae stared back at Jiyong, still trying to soak this sense of newfound freedom in. “So, we can really…”

Jiyong’s smile was now more gums than teeth, his expression nothing short of giddy. “Mm-hmm. So, may I?” He outstretched his hand to Youngbae who looked at it, then back up at Jiyong, his genuine happiness over such a simple thing— to others, anyway—making Youngbae catch that same warm smile.

Youngbae took a hand out of his pocket and timidly took Jiyong’s hand in his. He glanced around once more for any onlookers before grasping the hand much firmer and securely.

This lasted only two seconds, as Youngbae recoiled his hand before they even had the chance to take one step.

“You are freezing! Your hands are like ice!”

Jiyong’s bottom lip was protruding out into that all-familiar pout. “Then warm me up, babo!” Jiyong held out his rejected hand to the other.

“Fine, but next time, wear a jacket with pockets or something, will you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jiyong mumbled as his cold hand was grasped in Youngbae’s again. “You sure know how to kill a mood,” Jiyong said in feigned annoyance before letting a smile slip.

But Youngbae had a trick of his own, guiding his and Jiyong’s hands into cozy front pocket of Youngbae’s hoodie. He wrapped both hands around Jiyong’s one, not saying anything more as they commenced walking. He took this opportunity to bask in the contentment of the silence, taking every second to relish in this feeling. They were out—two guys, two well-known, easily recognizable guys, (especially Jiyong and his loud jacket)—in public, alone, holding hands. And sure, it was well into the wee hours of the morning. And yeah, Jiyong’s hand was concealed under the flap of fabric of Youngbae’s black hoodie. But still, Youngbae didn’t think he could feel more blissful than he did now. Until Jiyong used the fact that the length of his forearm was buried in Youngbae’s sweatshirt as an excuse to nuzzle up to Youngbae, their out-of-synch footsteps and the infrequent car driving by being the only noises in the vicinity.

Okay, now Youngbae was at his peak of bliss.

A handful of minutes passed when he felt Jiyong lift his head and realized he wasn’t the only one to feel the snow fall anymore. Both men looked up and saw a mini snowstorm full of those miniscule, glittering snowflakes Youngbae had seen earlier, falling in much more uniformity. They were wet enough to stick to the path in front of them, but light enough that when Jiyong playfully kicked at the ground, the snow swooshed upward with the motion. Youngbae looked lovingly at his boyfriend, who was captivated by the snow like an impish child. Jiyong took his hand out of Youngbae’s pocket, fingers still intertwined, to have more space to kick.

Jiyong was right. These were the moments that made a relationship truly special. Not simply seeing each other in between busy schedules, or sleeping in the same bed for maybe three, four hours tops. But this. These times spent together were what Youngbae loved about being with Jiyong, seeing his true personality and smiles and words reserved only for him.

“Did you know it was gonna snow?” Youngbae asked, curious if that was also in Jiyong’s sly plans.

Jiyong reply was a smirk as he continued to kick at the film of snow on the concrete. Youngbae mixed a disbelieving laugh with a sigh, grabbing Jiyong’s hand tighter.

Suddenly, the snow was less light and airy. What had been a walk through a snowfall seemingly passing through Seoul was now a snowstorm gaining momentum. The flakes that fell, only able to be seen by as sparkles catching on the sunset light of the streetlamps, were getting very thick, coating the trees, the two mens’ clothing, and the sidewalk. Jiyong abruptly stopped walking to close his eyes and tilt his head up, mouth wide open to catch snowflakes and instead, getting a face full of them. Youngbae laughed, taking his free hand from his pocket and wiping the snow from Jiyong’s nose and eyelids.

“Of course this would happen in March… just when we think the snow is over and done with,” Jiyong said, wiping the rest of the nearly-melted snow from his face.

“So you didn’t know it was going to snow?” Youngbae was still genuinely curious.

“Nope. It’s cool though, isn’t it? We’re caught in a snowstorm. Hell of a happy accident,” Jiyong chuckled. He eyed the empty road and tried to walk off the sidewalk, Youngbae still in his clutch, but Youngbae wouldn’t budge. “C’mon,” Jiyong pulled, but Youngbae had always been stronger than Jiyong and didn’t move.

“Why?”

Jiyong rolled his eyes, letting go of his hand to run into the street, around in circles. Youngbae was about to yell for Jiyong to come back, but remembered what the blond said:

“…alone with you… Nobody to stare at us…”

Youngbae looked both ways down the street. He hadn’t seen a car drive by for quite a while. Now, it was like they were alone in their own little snow globe, completely cut off from the world and placed in this winter wonderland.

Youngbae peeked over at Jiyong, who’d made his way toward a streetlamp on the other side of the road. As Youngbae approached, looking both ways again before crossing the street, he couldn’t help but think of how striking Jiyong was. Orange-yellow light cascaded over him, shining with snowflakes in his hair and on his jacket, nose and cheeks red, smile pure perfection.

No sooner had Youngbae gotten over to Jiyong did Jiyong pull him closer by the sleeves of his hoodie, lean in and kiss him. Youngbae’s anxiety immediately shot up at the action, but he was more surprised by the way Jiyong shyly put his arms around Youngbae’s neck, almost hesitating, that he was just as nervous. “Private” had seldom ever been private for them. But in a swift moment of resolve, Youngbae wrapped his arms around Jiyong’s lower back, bare hands gripping Jiyong’s coat. They finally had their chance to be alone, and Youngbae would be damned if he wasted it.

Slipping his hands under Jiyong’s jacket, Youngbae turned Jiyong within the embrace so he wasn’t facing the onslaught of cold flakes carried by the wind. But the snow swirled all about them. With no real way to avoid it, Youngbae pressed his body against Jiyong’s and lifted him off the ground just enough so Jiyong’s toes barely touched the tar. Jiyong’s squeak of surprise was muffled by the kiss, which Youngbae takes a silent victory as he continue to gently press his lips to Jiyong’s. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to become deeper, because when were they ever going to be able to do this in public again? And Youngbae tasted more of that tequila and the sweet sugar from those café pastries and the unique taste that can only be described as Jiyong. Youngbae could feel Jiyong’s hands pressing the backs of his shoulders, whether in passion or to keep himself in the air Youngbae couldn’t tell. Jiyong tilted his head just so, soft lips curved into a smile against his own. Through the smile Jiyong’s tongue broke free, and soon both of their tongues met in the middle. No assault or battling for dominance, but simple open-mouthed caresses and lazy swipes of the tongues. It was simple like their surroundings. Like the falling snow. Like they sometimes wished their lives could have been, but then, that would make moments like these far less sweet.

They tried to keep going until Youngbae’s arms tremored and he had to put Jiyong back down on the snowy street. But they stayed close and kissed again. One chaste peck, and yet it was so much more.

They stayed embraced, enveloped in each other’s warmth. The warm heart of a cold city. Jiyong nuzzled against the side of Youngbae’s cheek, the temperature no longer an issue because they’re both chilled through skin and bone. At the same time, they couldn’t be bothered by the cold when all they felt was absolute adoration. Youngbae pulled away to cup Jiyong’s face, while Jiyong weaved their fingers together, where they belonged. It was the perfect fleeting moment with a dazzling snowy city as his backdrop and the love of his life in his arms. This never happened to them, but it did, and Youngbae’s heart was close to bursting. He grinned.

“Thank you for making us walk home.”