It may have been the promise of snow the night before on television that had set his internal clock to wake him up at nearly 8 AM, or it might have been the smell of coffee and breakfast  wafting in from the kitchen that woke Chanyeol up that snowy morning. 

 

The blankets were a cocoon of warmth swaddled around his long, gangly body, hiding everything except the wispy tips of brunette hair that stuck out at the top. He probably would have stayed there longer if it weren't for the rumble in his belly that had him detangling  himself and sweeping long legs over the edge of the bed, warm toes meeting cold hardwood floors that only a early winter morning seemed to bring. Yawning, Chanyeol stretched his limbs out, the feel-good burn of muscles stretching out and releasing sleep from joints, slim fingers sliding through tousled bed hair but he doesn't mind, so he heaves himself from the bed, the joints in his knees popping because he's lived a good thirty-four years with them, chilly feet slipping into soft furry slippers and he pads down the hall to the kitchen; the quiet 'skish, skish' as his slippers slide lazily against the wooden floors echo down the hall, another yawn eases from him and he can hear the soft clinking of dishes from just in the other room as he brushes past the sofa, but something catches his eye and he stops to peek out the bay window that overlooks the backyard. A deep, fresh blanket of velvet white covers the porch and ground, even lumping up in the trees and it must have started snowing not long after he fell asleep-- if the large mounds of snow are any clue. He watches as a pair of little birds huddle together on a branch, one rubbing its yellow tinged beak upon the of the other, and it brings a soft quirk onto the corner of the man's lips because despite the chill of the new winter cold the birds are enjoying the company of each other. 

 

Pulling himself from the window, he wanders into the kitchen, the aroma of delicious smelling food and coffee pressing into his senses and a delighted hum eases from his chest as he catches a soft Kyungsoo in his arms, peppering kisses along his temple and down the side of his face,  the other man continuing to cook breakfast on the stove. The smaller man just smiles softly, leaning against his strong chest; his way of saying goodmorning. 

Kyungsoo never really was much of a talker, contrastingly so compared to the ever chattering Chanyeol. He was much more of a listener, rather than he was a speaker, and when he did speak it was a soft murmur of words, even gentler touch of hands against Chanyeol's skin. For every word Kyungsoo didn't speak, Chanyeol made up for with bright jokes, dopey facts about things most people wouldn't bother to look up and too-peppy smiles that showed pearly whites and pink gums. 

 

When Chanyeol feels he's pressed a sufficient amount of kisses against the shorter man's face he moves away to pour a mug of coffee for himself, the usual three sugars and a bit of creamer turning the dark, bitter liquid a rich creammy brown. Kyungsoo once joked that that was why Chanyeol was always so wound up and bouncing off the walls, and Chanyeol laughed that twitchy eye laugh of his because sometimes he'd wondered the same thing, and he even went as far as to test it-- leaving the sugar and cream out of his coffee one morning and he'd nearly retched it right back into the cup, a grimace lacing his features, the taste sticking to his taste buds the rest of the day. That ended up being a very long day for him. 

 

He found himself pulled from his thoughts by a warm hand slipping into the one hanging by his side, a gentle eyed man staring up at him through dark lashes, a curious smile of his heart shaped lips because he often found Chanyeol lost in his own thoughts, drifting from memory to memory and he was always curious as to what the tall man was thinking that moment. Chanyeol shook his head in dismissal though, an equally warm smile on his own face and Kyungsoo squeezed his hand tenderly. They sat at the dining table, a comfortable silence settles over them as they eat, hands intertwined in the middle of the table, a happy warmth filling them up over the chill of this particular morning; Chanyeol glances up from his plate, catching gazes with his lover and an 'I love you' passes between their locked gazes, knowing grins in their cheeks and Chanyeol thinks he wouldn't even mind if they got snowed in over the next couple days-- it wouldn't be cold or lonely, or lacking love in the house with Kyungsoo. And that, he thinks, is a wonderful feeling in this first snow.