"What exactly is it you've planned for today?" asked Jean. He absentmindedly rubbed his hand in small circles on Marco's back. Marco was sitting curled up in his lap, gazing lovingly into Jean's eyes. Every day like this, with Marco, stunned Jean with the new heights of happiness he reached. Even though Marco had spent the last few days masterminding elaborate schemes to make Jean love winter, Jean was just as happy with little moments like this, when he was alone with Marco and everything was quiet. He traced his fingers along the constellation of freckles on his boyfriend's cheeks.

Marco closed his eyes and was quiet for a moment before answering. "Just this."

"Just what?"

"You know. A quiet day inside. With you." Outside the window the snow had thickened, and the world looked grey and forbidding. All the colors of their drab house seemed more saturated in contrast to the monochromatic scene outside. "Hiding from winter inside a cozy house is one of my favorite parts."

"You, Marco?" said Jean. "I thought freezing your dick off was your favorite part."

Marco laughed. "That's pretty fun too, but I decided to keep it on your behalf. Want me to make some hot chocolate?"

Jean snuggled deeper into the couch, allowing Marco to cover him with a blanket and tuck it in at the sides. He stared out the window at what he once would have called bleak and cold. Now, he saw the warmth in the faces of the pedestrians, saw the magic of the ice-frosted trees. Even the thick grey clouds, clouds he would have once called oppressive, seemed more like a protective blanket now. Jean smiled. Marco had won, but that was okay. If Marco was happy, then in a way, they b0th won.

Marco returned with a steaming bowl of hot chocolate.

"We do have mugs, you know…" Jean said. Marco handed him the bowl and set up a collapsible table beside the couch. Then he snuggled in under the blanket with Jean.

"We can share this way. I made enough for both of us. Just don't spill."

Not spilling proved much more difficult for Jean then Marco had anticipated. It was a good thing Marco had only warmed the drink, not heated it too much, because Jean quickly spilled a large dribble down the side of his mouth. Marco licked it away, and drank down the bowl so Jean could have some.

"So I win?" said Marco.

"Yeah, I guess so. Things outside the window… look different." Jean's voice was quiet, hesitant.

"What do you mean, different?"

"Like the snow. Before this it looked forbidding and gross and cold and just… bad. Now, it's pretty. I think it's because it reminds me of you. I think I'll always think of you when I see snow. I think winter might become my new favorite season, because it'll remind me so strongly of you."

"I'll be here in the summertime, too!"

"It won't be the same though, because I've always loved summertime. But I truly did hate winter until you… changed things. Now it has a whole new meaning, thanks to you."

Marco smiled. "Good then."

They were quiet for so long that when Jean spoke next, Marco didn't reply. Jean carefully tilted his face, and saw that Marco had fallen asleep. Jean placed a gentle kiss on his lips before resting his head on Marco's. The late night they had had with their friends caught up with Jean, and soon he was sleeping just as soundly.

When Jean woke up again, Marco was off in the kitchen making supper, although it was still early. Though he felt he'd done nothing in the past 24 hours but eat and sleep, Jean found he was surprisingly hungry, and followed the smell of bacon and eggs into the kitchen.

"You better enjoy today's supper, because tomorrow's is on you," said Marco.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. But I'm more excited for after supper." Marco blushed. He was used to making subtle hints that made Jean react, not the other way around.

Jean yawned. "You know, for someone who spent a whole day sleeping, I'm surprisingly tired."

"But that's one of the good things about winter! Now that we have time off for winter holidays, we can sleep all we want. Will you watch the eggs while I look for something?"

Marco rummaged around in one box after another, clearly looking for something that evaded him. When Jean asked what he was looking for, Marco would only say 'a surprise'. Finally he returned triumphant, with their CD player and a disc.

"There's a song that you're reminding me of," he said, and plugged in the player. A few seconds later, 'Let it Snow' filled the room.

"But neither of us is leaving!" Jean said after he heard the line 'How I'll hate going out in the storm'. "Neither of us is ever leaving the other." He ran to Marco's side and hugged him in a fit of sudden worry.

"Of course neither of us is leaving," Marco said. He rubbed Jean's back. "Which means that we can stay at the 'If you really hold me tight' part.

Jean smiled. "Promise?"

"Promise."

They ate dinner with the music still playing softly in the background. Marco got up first, and Jean stood to help him clear the plates. Marco gently sat him back down in his chair, however, and cleaned up quickly by himself. Then he walked over to Jean and held out one hand. Jean regarded it with confusion.

"Dance with me, silly," said Marco.

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas," Marco sang, twirling Jean once. "Just like the ones I used to know…" They danced slowly around the room as the song played. Marco continued to sing, and Jean rested his head contentedly against Marco's chest.

"I'll show you a white Christmas," Marco said when the song was over. Jean switched off the CD player and tugged Marco towards the stairs.

The blizzard of the previous day still hadn't let up at all. The lawn was so buried in snow that the peaks of the snowdrifts touched the bottoms of the ground-floor windows. Because the innermost wall where Jean and Marco lived was for the privileged citizens, almost everyone was given the day off. Marco stood in front of a half-decorated Christmas tree, looking out the window and thinking silently of his friends in the Recon Corps, in manufacturing, in the Garrison, and on farms, all of whom had to work in this weather. 'We're the lucky ones,' he thought to himself. Even though his friends had chosen where they worked, Marco couldn't help but feel that fate had been kindest to him and Jean.

Jean was in the kitchen, starting to marinade the steak. When he was done he brought out a box of Christmas decorations.

"We haven't even finished moving in yet and you want to decorate for a holiday," Jean said. He shook his head.

"Oh shush, Christmas is important. And we get to hang the mistletoe!"

Jean rummaged through the box. He pulled out mistletoe after mistletoe. "How much of this shit do you have, Marco?!"

"I wanted to make sure you had to kiss me as much as possible."

"I'd do that without turning our ceilings into gigantic hanging shrubbery."

"It's tradition!" said Marco. He grabbed all but one of the bushels of mistletoe and left the room. Jean was left grumbling in the living room. The smell of their Christmas tree filled the whole room. He hung the one remaining sprig of mistletoe above the couch and turned to the half-finished Christmas tree. He began hanging ornaments.

"You've clumped them all together!" Marco said when he came back into the room. He joined Jean at the Christmas tree and began rehanging ornaments. "I've hung all the mistletoe!"

"Oh God."

Jean had to go back to the kitchen to continue the elaborate dinner he was planning, so Marco was left alone, smiling and humming Christmas carols. He hummed until, without thinking, he began to sing. Jean heard him from the kitchen and sang quietly along. Both men were peaceful and happy. Marco snuck up on him while he cooked and hugged him from behind.

"Look up."

There was a small bushel of mistletoe.

"That's one part of winter I could get used to," said Jean.

"I win."

"Was there ever any doubt?"

"Not in my mind," Marco said.

They kissed under the mistletoe. They spent the rest of the day hanging wreaths and wrapping tinsel around the banisters.

"Wow Marco, you really go all out when it comes to Christmas!"

"It is my favorite holiday. And this one is going to be better than any other, since I'm with you!"

Jean made a fine supper for Marco. He cooked roast beef, mashed potatoes, corn, and gravy.

"Mmm, wow. You really upheld your side of the bet!" Marco said.

"Yeah, like you didn't." Jean said. "No one's ever put as much effort into a bet as you put into this one. You had me partially convinced at about day two."

"Well, I was really looking forward to this dinner, see. Not to mention what comes afterward."

Jean turned red and almost choked on his potatoes. After supper, Jean started to clean up, but Marco stopped him.

"I can't wait for you to be done this. We'll sort it out tomorrow. Let's go."

Jean allowed himself to be tugged up the stairs.

It was 12:30. Marco was asleep, but Jean needed a glass of water. He got up and pulled on a pair of shorts, then headed for the kitchen. The blizzard still hadn't let up. The next day he'd probably have to dig their windows out of the huge snowdrifts. There were probably people outside to whom this massive amount of snowfall was a curse. Jean would once have been among them. Now, however, he just smiled. He ran some water, then returned to bed, to where his love and his future lay sleeping.