1. snowflakes or first snowfall

The window is covered with frost, even though it has not really snowed yet; Hakyeon pokes at the sleety, frozen glass insistently, nail hammering onto the surface with an annoying sound. A sigh is breathed out, the glass fogging up instantly and Hakyeon scratches at it more. He doesn't look back to where Wonshik stands, confused and maybe even hurt, splayed on the huge sofa they bought last Christmas. Wonshik wouldn't understand, Hakyeon knows, he wouldn't know how it feels, so that is why it was so easy for him to brush it away. But it made Hakyeon boil, that he had not defended him, had not stood up for him in front of that monster and instead found amusement in the way that kid gamboled with him. It was pricking his self-esteem, really. It was not his fault that the others just had better genes. He hears Wonshik make a sound behind him, something akin to a snore, but so much softer. Eyebrows lowered, he turns back only for a grimace to dress his features - the other man has, indeed, fallen asleep while worrying, probably. It was Wonshik so he expected no less, but felt a sting of ire nevertheless. His finger stops tracing, scratching, poking at the icy glass when the tip of it becomes red and numb. He drags the edge of his tongue over it and hisses. It is incredibly cold and it makes him shiver. A sigh is followed by another sigh and another; it is warm inside, his fluffy sweater only adding to the pleasant heat and he curls his fingers to clench them onto his sleeves, bringing his hands up to cup his chin as he continues to look out the window. He can see, through the sphere of clean glass, the couple that lived just in front of their house, fighting about something, the girl gesturing quite wildly to the other girl who seemed sheepish, maybe even ashamed. He wonders for a moment if there is some sort of spell cast over the street that makes them all fight with each other. It dissolves soon though, when his thoughts drift to other directions.

This season holds a special meaning for them - it's not like Hakyeon could ever forget the pink, pink tinge on Wonshik's nose after he fell, slipping on ice after he kissed him, cheek smashed against the awfully cold ice beneath. Hakyeon had stopped immediately, incredibly worried, crouched so he could see if he was alright, but Wonshik only laughed, nose red and eyes teary and Hakyeon couldn't help but chuckle along with him, leaning down to give him their second kiss. It makes his stomach stir in a pleasant way, the memory, a smile sneaking onto his face without him even realizing it. It takes a few moments before he focuses, eyes straining a bit as he scratches again at the window, the taintless circle becoming larger and his eyes do as well with it. For a moment, he thinks he is dreaming. Snowflakes fall gently from the sky and his eyes light up with unadulterated joy, a squeal leaving his mouth. Wonshik stirs in his sleep, mouth by then hanging open and Hakyeon cannot even feel the mild irritation towards his boyfriend anymore, skipping to the couch to sit astride his lap and shake him with such vigor that Wonshik, despite usually being a log when he sleeps, rises immediately, alarmed. He is confused for a couple of seconds before Hakyeon finally materializes in front of his eyes, eyes gleaming with such joy it triggers a smile even though, as far as he could remember, Hakyeon is upset with him, for whatever reason. He doesn't say a word, but he really doesn't need to.

"It's snowing, Wonshikkie." Hakyeon says, a child-like innocence rolling off him (Wonshik had to remind himself many, many times that he was actually dating a twenty six years old man) and he shakes him harder, bounces on top of him a couple times as his fingers clutch at his upper arms.

"Let's go outside." Wonshik is still dazed but he doesn't question, simply does what Hakyeon wants, not that he would have had another choice for he is already yanked outside, hair sticking out everywhere and sleep still shadowing his eyes. Hakyeon laces their fingers as they step outside, pulls him along so they can stay on the small patio in their yard, Hakyeon catching snowflakes on his tongue. Wonshik's heart melts. He squeezes Hakyeon's hand tighter, his stomach roils and his heart thumps almost painfully. "I am sorry," he says and it catches Hakyeon's attention who looks at him with a half forgiving, half triumphant smile - Wonshik both hates and loves that smile.

"You know what you did?" Hakyeon speaks, snowflakes clinging to his lashes and when Wonshik shakes his head innocently, he frowns. "He called me short, Wonshik! And you did not say anything." Hakyeon pouts and Wonshik tries very, very hard not to burst into laughter right there and then, knowing the consequences. He suppresses it, inhaling the cold air slowly. "You are short, Hakyeon." He says matter of factly and Hakyeon's fist collides with his shoulder. "I am one hundred eighty centimeters.." He starts, some of the snowflakes melting on his lips and on his tongue as he speaks and Wonshik approaches him with an upsettingly wide smile, an arched eyebrow. Hakyeon lowers his head and Wonshik ruffles his hair with gentleness, the snowflakes drifiting away to dance in the air. "One hundred seventy eight centimeters.. of pure awesomeness, alright." He huffs, and in his anger chokes on the cold air, Wonshik immediately by his side to soothe him, arms coiled so tight around his torso, making Hakyeon warm. "I never denied that," Wonshik whispers and Hakyeon hides his face in his chest, "plus, I like it that you are shorter than me. I love it when sometimes you stand on your tippy toes to kiss me. I love it when you tug at my collar to bring my lips down to meet yours. I love it when you whine and complain about it, and I love it because you also love that I am taller than you, so you can do all these things." Hakyeon's cheeks are no longer pink only from the frost and he raises his head up to meet Wonshik's eyes. "Acting as if you know me.." Wonshik shushes him when he seals their lips together and Hakyeon can't help but smile into it, pulling away gently. "This is our five thousandth kiss." Hakyeon pushes him away, laughing, snowflakes clinging to his hair, his clothes, his lashes and he is so, so beautiful. "Or was it our ten thousandth?" Wonshik asks playfully, gathering Hakyeon in his arms again.