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Charlie hated the snow because it’s cold and wet.
Even as a child, he never understood when his classmates would get excited over some snowflakes along the wind.
But what he loved was snowball fights. Something about the adrenaline of running around, breathing in the freezing air and laughing at the poor dumbfounded friend that had been the target of his first throw was exhilarating. That’s what made a snow day something to care about.
And on this beautiful February morning, Welton was covered in that promising white coat.
But that's not what Charlie noticed first when he woke up. First, he saw his roommate, forehead pressed against the window with his smiling mouth so close that his breath formed small clouds against the cold glass.
Charlie must have moved under his cover because Cameron suddenly got away from the window to look at the boy still in bed, ashamed to be caught acting like a child and avoiding his eyes. He just stood there in the middle of the room, searching for something to say or maybe waiting for Charlie to react.
And even if he was not smiling anymore and was trying to pretend he was never against that window; he still had that red mark on his forehead and a lingering spark in his eyes.
Charlie smiled fondly, taken aback by how pretty his friend looked in his pajamas and usual bedhead.
Fondly?
Pretty?
The brunette shook his head and rubbed his eyes, it must be because he just woke up, or because it was so cold outside, or even because he didn't have breakfast yet. It must had been a hypoglycemia crisis, surely. He would never think that type of things of Cameron. Never.
The morning classes went pretty much as usual, except for some students who kept glancing at the window. And Charlie was ready to bet he saw Mr. Keating doing so too at least 7 times during his class. Snow isn't even that rare around here so why do they all looked so excited about it?
He can understand why Neil and Todd looked happy because everybody knows that they retreat in their room and no one is allowed to enter every time it snows or rain. It must be so nice rooming with your boyfriend. But of course, the school administration had to put him of the most annoyingly smart person known to Men. This exact person who was currently having a private talk with Mr. Keating, it didn't look like he was getting scold. Cameron was wearing a smirk full of pride and nodded along to what the teacher was saying with a playful laugh. Did he got another ridiculously high grade he was so good at collecting?
And how did Cam make smiling looks so polite? Charlie always liked Cameron amused smile more, the one that comes with light giggles and that feeling of being bathed in sunlight. This was Char's favorite type of smile.
Not that he watched Cameron long enough to categorized his different laugh of course, but being roommate brings you to be with the same person quiet often. Charlie would just glance at him during the day, as everyone does. He especially noticed that specific frown and the way he picked at his skin when he was focused. But that was the normal amount of observation, right?
Soon enough, it was dinner time. Most people got caught in studying for tomorrow so none of his friend had the time to go outside. It was still snowing. Not in a large amount, just enough to keep the snowy ground fresh and thick. Neil and Todd were predictably all over each other, sending doe eyes and light hand contact every five (5) seconds. Meeks and Pitts were chatting about tomorrow's Latin test and, for once, Cameron was not joining the scholar discussion. Instead, he was buzzing on his chair, looking back and forth at everyone around the table with excited eyes. Charlie, sitting next to him, found it odd, but after all, the amount of snow that fell that day was incredible.
But as everyone was moving on from the appetizer, to the main course, to some jokes shared before dessert; Cameron looked less and less amused, and went back to his usual still position, messing and mashing his dessert with his spoon.
That's when it clicked.
Slowly, Charlie took his untouched slice of apple pie, leaned over his table companion and whispered:
"Happy Birthday Cameron"
And slid his small dessert plate in front of the birthday boy.
Cam's eyes shot up with the same spark in his eyes from earlier today, looking somewhat surprised. He looked back at the pastry, a soft smile on his lips. Then his blue grinning eyes met his own brown one as he whispered back:
"Thank you, Dalton."
And he could have been struck by lightning a million times, it would never feel like this moment. When Charlie Dalton saw Richard Cameron thanking him with an earnest and grateful smile. Freckles and eyes shining like a thousand stars. When Charlie Dalton realized he was in love.
The sun was long gone when their little group sneaked out to play in the snow. The layer of white powder so hefty, it made walking a difficult task. All seven of them started messing around, tentatively running before falling head first in the cushion of snow, throwing handful of snowflakes in the air to watch it fall back.
And Charlie never missed an opportunity that patent, it was time for a snowball fight.
But he needed to be clever. Surprise was the principal factor in starting a good snowball fight. The second factor being choosing the perfect target. Unhurriedly, he picked up a fistful of the perfect weapon, crushing it between his barred hand, appreciating the anticipated burn.
Instinctively, he aimed for Neil. Neil was his childhood best friend after all, he knew that this iced drop was to be predicted if you went out on a snow day with Charlie. But karma was real and Dalton apparently did something sinful because Todd abruptly appeared in front of Neil, and Charlie never missed a shot. With comical horror, the frosty ball hit right behind Todd’s head, causing him to stumble from the shock and a bit or surprise.
Neil looked at the cause of the scene as if trying to kill him from a distance. But Charlie didn't break eye contact and, instead, threw another one that smashed on Neil shoulder, harboring his signature cocky smile. Someone in the small group laughed, and that was enough for everyone to start joining the game.
At this moment, Dalton understood he was clearly under-dressed compared to the other: No gloves, no scarf, no beanie, he was not even sure he had a sweater on top of his shirt.
But now it was too late, he had already been the target on three snowball that landed directly on his neck and all of them deserved a good correction.
It was childish, almost ridiculous the way they were all running around like madman. Their faces red from the cold and struggling to talk through the laughter and effort.
Charlie aimed at Gerard’s back with the biggest snowball he could manage to make. But something moved on his left. Stinging pain in his eye, cold burn on his cheek. His shoot his head to see who threw that one,
Cameron,
breathing out a visible cloud as he rushed away, worried about the munition Charlie was still holding.
It was so dark here, only the moon allowed Dalton to notice how Cam's eyes squinted when he was laughing. Or how beautiful his skin would glow, just like the fresh snow this morning.
Without much strength, he threw the now half-melted snowball to Pitts's legs. Charlie was breathless, blaming it on the intensity of the game.
Soon enough everyone got too tired to continue the confrontation and the poets went back inside, trying to stay silent between the jokes whispered and the quiet giggling. They retracted to their room living wet steps behind them.
The warmth of Cameron and Charlie's room was welcomed. Both of them were freezing, especially the dark-haired student who went outside only wearing his thin coat on top of his uniform. Cam did make a point on wearing two sweaters, gloves, and a scarf. Which should have been the standard for everyone but Char never really liked wearing too much layers.
But right now, he regretted deeply. His hands were red, his fingertips almost blue. He couldn't feel his feet anymore and his entire face felt like it was burning. And surely enough, all of his clothes were covered in melted snow, dripping on the floor.
Charlie really hated the snow. It was cold and wet.
He didn't even move from the entrance of their bedroom and watched as Cameron took off his coat and accessory and kneeled in front of the closet to find his pajamas.
"Thanks again"
Charlie wasn't even sure he really heard that, it was barely audible and Cameron didn't turn around to speak.
"Thanks for what?"
"The apple pie."
Dalton could barely think straight, the cold was freezing him to the bone but he took a moment before responding. He didn't want to mess the day up by saying something stupid, not on Cameron's birthday.
"Well, it is your birthday, and I don't like apple pie anyway."
Cameron shrugged and stood up with his change of cloth in hand, still not looking up to Charlie but smirking slightly.
Of course, Cam knew. Everybody knew apple pie was Charlie's favorite dish.
He settled his clothes down on the bed and time stopped, almost like they both forgot to move.
Completely silent and still. Only soft breathing filling the room. Cameron was probably immobile out of confusion; his roommate behavior was weirder than usual. He was staring a lot lately. He did notice the way Charlie kept looking at him, he was just hoping his roommate didn’t notice the pink in his cheeks every time their eyes met.
On his side, Charlie was still soaked in ice-cold shirt and pants, the frost like flames licking every millimeter of his skin. He was scared moving would be too painful, so he was standing there like a fool. Just waiting for some help, not knowing how to ask for it.
But slowly, Cameron turned around.
"Why are you standing there like that? "
"Cold"
Was all could manage to say, his muscles were tensed under the pain and burn.
"I'm so cold"
He muttered again. Cameron shrugged and went back to unfold and rearranged his things.
"Of course, you are. You could have been smarter on the clothing subject tonight, Dalton"
"Please"
This time the redhead didn’t question the request and hurried toward the entry. If Charlie was ready to beg for it, it was serious.
"Dear god, Dalton you're going to end up dying if you don't change"
He was pretending to reprimand him but sounded more worried than upset. He knelt in front of his dark-haired classmate and began to work on his shoelaces still covered with snowflakes.
"Hurry and take off your shirt. You're dripping all over our wooden floor, it could damage it."
"Can't move my fingers"
Cameron looked up.
"It's that bad?"
He didn't wait for Charlie's answer and pushed the freezing men's back slightly against the door and hurriedly took of his boots and dampened socks. He got up and hesitantly grabbed his friend’s collar. Finally, he looked up to brown eyes, searching for some kind of approval. He couldn't help but notice how warm blue looked tonight. He didn't follow much in art class, but he knew sky-like eyes weren't suppose to feel like sunlight.
Charlie nodded.
Elegant fingers slowly undid Dalton's buttons on his shirt. One by one.
Charlie's skin was throbbing from the cold but he felt a comfortable warmth grow in his chest. It was slow, it was sweet.
The birthday boy kept glancing between his task and Charlie’s crimson face.
Charlie’s slightly opened mouth, breathing with difficulty.
Charlie’s half-lidded eyes looking right back at him.
Charlie.
He worked his hand from the other’s chest to the last button above his waist line, trying to stay focused on his duty and not on his classmate’s skin and soft stomach now picking through the open shirt.
Cameron carefully peeled Char’s wet shirt away from his body, soft fingers gazing over his arm and chest, trying his best to make the moment quick but painless next to the sensitive torso. The shirt was thrown on the desk, they would worry about drying it later.
Cam ran up to his wardrobe and pulled out a sweater, his favorite one. It was an unexpected choice; this sweater was a luck charm for the ginger and they had an important test tomorrow after all. But Cameron helped Charlie raise his arm and put on the sweater, it was smooth; terribly smooth like a Band-Aids against Char's aching flesh. He was so absorbed by the softness of the cardigan, he failed to notice Cameron had already undone his belt and was waiting for him to finish taking off his pants to change into his pajamas one.
Both of their faces were red, they would blame it on the cold.
After Charlie finally got completely changed, he sighed of relief. His hands and feet hurt slightly but nothing he couldn't bear and he could move around and talk freely. He wandered around the small room as to celebrate his new found liberty. He then remembered he was finally comfortable because Cameron slowly undressed him. What he felt could be labelled as embarrassment but his grin was barely hidden. He went back to his marching, thinking about searching for one of his instrument, but interrupted himself when Cameron sighed.
“Stop running around, I’m not done”
Charlie laughed, but his heart dropped as Cameron joined him in the center of their room.
As much as he wanted to brush it off, what just happened was shameful for him. And he regretted requesting Cameron to do that big of a favor as to undress him. He couldn’t help but mind if Cameron felt forced to do so.
“Not done? What else could you do? Tuck me in bed and give me a little peck?”
He mimicked a kiss and smirked. Cameron rolled his eyes but did awful at hiding his amusement, he took Charlie’s hands in his own, brought them to his lips and blew on them.
The touch was, once again, light and careful. And the hot air was indeed helpful to warm up Charlie’s hand.
Cameron lips touched Charlie’s fingers by moments, only for a matter a of second at a time. It was unclear if it was because of his repeated breathing or if he intended on kissing Charlie’s knuckles.
No matter the intent, it was like the touch of God.
The cocky smile Charlie liked so much about himself was long gone, he was now reduced to gasping desperately for oxygen as he could only see Cam.
Cam like an Angel, looking up through pretty eyelashes, cheeks slightly pink and freckled kisses all over his perfect features.
Charlie slightly moved his fingertip and dared to touch the divine apparition in front of him, as to prove it was real. And his digit found flesh, found round cheek and sublime beauty.
The Angel did look surprised but didn’t move away from the touch, he even leaned into it. Dalton moved his thumb across the redhead’s jawline, his index guessing his hair in the crook of his neck. Cameron chuckled
“What are you doing Dalton?”
Music. His voice and his laugh were like music. He needed to hear every single thing Cam would ever have to say; every thought, every titter, every moan, every sound he was willing to make in front of him. Charlie was tired, Charlie was still cold, Charlie was drunk in Cameron’s eyes. And he wasn’t sure what he was saying even made sense to himself.
“Can I?”
Cameron smile dropped
“Please do”
Charlie loved the snow because it’s wet and cold and a perfect excuse to kiss Richard Cameron.
In the middle of their shared bedroom, in a sweater that was not his.
“Happy birthday Richard”