"What are we going to do today, Marco?" Jean said.
"Well for a start, we have to work today."
Jean's face fell. "Oh, yeah."
"But we get off work at 5, right? That gives us plenty of time to appreciate winter."
"I'll never appreciate winter!"
"But you will, Jean. You will," Marco said.
Jean couldn't supress a smile while he helped Marco do up the straps of his 3-D movement gear. "You're all ready. Will you please tell me the plan for today?"
"No. It's a surprise. Here, let me help you with those buckles." Then Marco 'helped' Jean put on his gear in such a way that prevented any further conversation.
They gave each other a short kiss goodbye before parting ways at the front door.
"See you tonight. Love you!" Marco said.
"Yeah, love you too. Hopefully that love'll be enough to keep me warm walking to work in this infernal weather!" Jean stomped off in the ankle deep snow, leaving Marco smiling after him.
Though Jean would never let Marco know, he walked to his station smiling, anticipating the afternoon. He smiled while he patrolled the snow covered streets. He smiled when a young, ogling child told his father "When I grow up, I'm going to be like that guy!" He even smiled when he saw Commander Nile Dawk making his rounds, inspecting the new officers of the military police.
"Something funny, Kirschtein?"
"Nothing, sir. Sorry, sir." Nothing funny except that ridiculous hair and dirty-ass mustache. Jean stood up straighter and attempted to keep his good humor off his face as the commander finished inspecting his form.
"Not a bad salute, Kirschtein. The report I received about you from training camp was stellar. Best in use of the 3DMG? Shame you won't be using it much."
"I thought that giving my body and soul in service to the king was more important, sir!"
"A good decision. Carry on."
Jean relaxed immediately after the commander had turned his back, and hurried quickly on with his patrol so he could let the suppressed laughter out. He was surprised at how fast the day passed after that, surprised at how his anticipation and happiness made the time fly. He ran home so fast he beat Marco, who was usually home first. He sat on the front steps and waited.
When Marco came home his eyes widened as if in horror.
"Jean! What are you doing outside! You have to get inside, quickly!"
"What? Why? Marco, what's wrong?"
"It's cold, Jean! It's winter! This weather is going to be the death of you! It's horrendous!" Marco pulled Jean to his feet and ushered him inside. "Oh, Jean. Your cheeks are rosy. I think it's the plague."
"Will you quit it?" the bright red the cold had left on Jean's face was quickly being replaced by a blush. "I was just excited to see you."
Marco's false concern faded to a sincere smile and he brushed some snow off of Jean's shoulders. "I'm happy to see you too, Jean. We should go change out of our uniforms and into something cozier. We're going to need to be really bundled up for this!"
After they'd changed out of their harnesses and into warmer clothes, Marco made a horrifying discovery.
"You mean you've never made a snowman before?! Are you serious? How did you go through your whole childhood without making snowmen?"
"I didn't play well with other kids on the playground… so they made snowmen without me."
"Well enough of that. You'll make one now."
They spent the next half hour seeing who could roll the biggest snowball to be the base.
"I think you win, Jean. Yours is definitely bigger." Marco wiggled his eyebrows.
"Oh, you think so?" said Jean, eyes wide with innocence.
"Definitely. Mine'll be the middle. I'll stack them, you make the head."
They continued their work in happy silence, occasionally meeting each other's eyes.
"I finished the head, Marco!"
"Yes, yes you did, Jean."
Jean's eyes widened at the change in tone of Marco's voice. "I… I meant… of the snowman…" Marco walked over and placed his fingertip on Jean's lips. "Yeah, looks like you finished that, too. Can I see?"
All stacked, the snowman stood taller than both men.
"You carved a face into it?! You're supposed to use carrots for the nose and buttons for the eyes and stuff..." Jean's face fell. "But that looks good too!" Marco smirked.
"It's so horrible you're laughing!"
"No… it's just… it looks like Shardis."
After a moment of silent study, Jean burst out laughing. "It does!"
"You got the eyeballs wrong. They're way farther back into his head. Give me a boost, I'll fix them!" He gouged his fingers into the snowman's eyes.
"Holy crap Marco… it looks possessed."
"So did he!"
"Wait, you give me a boost. The mouth isn't frowny enough!"
"Oh right…"
Several more alterations later and they had produced something truly wonderful.
"It's an abomination…"
"It's a masterpiece! In all my years of snowman-making I've never seen anything like this!"
"Well, that was fun. Shall we go inside? It's still winter, after all. It's cold."
"You go in, Jean. If you get supper ready I'll build something else… a surprise."
"Alright, I guess. Don't freeze."
While Jean cooked, Marco worked tirelessly. Only once did Jean come to check his progress, but Marco darted up the steps to push him back into the house, with admonitions to "Don't look" and "Stay inside until I come get you".
First, he found the biggest snowbank the yard had to offer. Big enough to comfortably seat two men. Then he hollowed it out carefully, making sure the walls were thick enough that the structure wouldn't collapse.
He heard Jean calling him from inside the house, so he walked up the steps and knocked politely on the front door. When Jean arrived, he put his hand to one side of the glass and Marco put his against other, exactly matching Jean's.
"Dinner's ready."
"Bring it outside. Make sure you bring a few candles, too."
"What?"
"Jean, can't you just trust me?"
When Jean returned with candles, Marco took them and left Jean waiting inside with instructions to pack the food into a picnic basket. When he was finally allowed out, Marco covered his eyes and led him out into the yard.
"Okay, you can open them!"
Jean couldn't make sense of what he saw. A mound of snow, faintly glowing from the inside, with a person-sized hole leading in and a smaller hole in the top from which smoke poured.
"What is it?"
"It's an igloo. Go on, go in!"
"In?"
"Yes, silly. It's hollow."
"Are you serious?"
Marco had had enough. He rolled his eyes, took the basket from Jean, and disappeared inside the igloo. Jean hesitated one half-second longer before following his love into the hole in the snow.
"Oh crap, it is hollow."
"You should probably take off all those extra layers before you get too warm. What's for supper?"
Jean opened the picnic basket and pulled out a covered dish of potatoes and ham.
"Your favorite. But I thought you might get thirsty, too." Jean pulled out a bottle of wine and two delicate glasses. "I thought this might turn into an occasion, so I unpacked the fancy cups."
"Jean…" Marco looked down, blushing. "Thank you. This is really, really nice. Thank you."
"No, thank you. You've put so much work into this silly bet. I'm having the time of my life. You deserve a nice meal for all you've done so far. And not only that… Marco, you've… you've been the most important person in my life since I met you. I… I'll never be able to thank you enough. I wouldn't be the same man without you."
Marco was so flustered he could barely speak, so Jean doled out the meal onto their best plates and poured them both some wine. Marco sipped his wine, still looking down and blushing so scarlet his freckles almost blended right in with his skin.
"I love you, Marco," said Jean, and then placed his finger under Marco's chin to lift his face. They kissed for a moment, then Jean pulled away.
They ate in silence for a while, but eventually the wine got the better of them and Marco started giggling.
"What's so funny?"
"How like, you always forget how wrapped around my fingers you are. I can pretend to be sad and the next second you're on your knees begging for forgiveness… though you could be doing something more productive down there… and then I'm all 'surprise, bitch!' I'm just faking being sad! And you're completely. Blown. Away. It's like you keep forgetting I'm not incapable of fucking with you."
"Marco, did you just swear!?"
Marco hiccupped. "Surprise, bitch!"
Jean choked on his wine. A thin red trail dripped between his fingers as he fought to contain himself.
"Consider this bitch surprised! Where'd you get that mouth, Marco?"
"Well the mouth, I was born with. The vocabulary, I picked up from you. And swearing is absolutely not the only skill I can perform with it."
"Oh? What else can you do?"
"Oh… well, you know."
"I think… you should probably elaborate."
"I think I should demonstrate," said Marco.
Eventually they were both so tired that they placed their spent dishes in a corner of the igloo, blew out the candles, and fell asleep right there, without bothering to bundle back up. Their shared body heat was enough to warm them both.
Halfway through the night, however, Jean awoke alone; Marco and his clothes were gone. He stumbled out of the igloo and nearly tripped over Marco.
"What are you doing?"
"I just… wanted to see the stars. But I didn't want to wake you. Now that you're here you can join me, though."
They lay side by side in the snow, talking quietly.
"My mum said stars are holes in the sky that were cut out to let the light on the other side of the universe shine through," Marco said.
"My mum said they were the brightly shining haloes of angels," Jean said. Marco giggled.
"Imagine being an angel? No one would even be able to see you because they'd be so blinded by your halo."
"I think she's wrong, because I think sometimes angels don't even need to have haloes." Jean's voice was quiet and serious. "I think sometimes there's nothing bright or special about angels that mark them as different, until you get to know them. I think sometimes… the angels that matter more than the ones up there are the ones down here, like you, Marco."
"I… I'm no angel. I'm as mortal as anyone else."
"You're as mortal, but you're still… different. I don't know what you've done to me to change me, but I'm a better person because I know you. I think that's the definition of angel. Someone who makes you want to be better." Marco started to speak but Jean laid a finger over his lips. "Thank you. For choosing me. For staying with me. For changing my life."
"Jean… stop. You're…" Marco rolled onto his back to hide his face with his hands. "My ego can't handle all this. You really have to stop."
"I will never stop."
"In a way… I'm glad. You're my angel too, Jean."
"Let's be angels together, then." Jean's voice lost some of its seriousness, replacing it with excitement. "Marco, hang on! There's… there's something I can show you about winter! If you lay in the snow like this," Jean moved over and fell back into a patch of fresh snow. "And move your arms and legs like this… you can make the shape of an angel in the snow!"
Marco walked over to examine what Jean had done. Smiling to himself, he feigned surprise. "That's so cool! Let me try!" So he fell back next to Jean and made another angel. He was so close the two silhouettes brushed together. Jean helped him up so he didn't break the shape. The two linked arms and admired what they had made.
"They're flying together," said Jean. Marco's head was slumped against his chest. "Are you tired, Marco?"
"Mm."
So Jean picked him up and they crawled back into the coziness of the igloo.
"Goodnight, Marco."
"Goodnight, Jean."
They fell asleep, twin points of warmth in the middle of a freezing, unforgiving world.