Best Of A Snowy Situation
November 23rd
Freed rushed into the supermarket, the snow that peppered his skin biting in it's coldness. If he had his way, he would have remained in his dorm building with the heating on and perhaps with one of Bickslow's blankets wrapped around him, but it was two days before thanksgiving and he needed to get some food before the last minute shopping began.
The snowstorm had taken Freed by surprise, given that his part of America was typically lucky to have any snow at all. Though his long red coat and luxurious scarf did do something to heat him up, he still shivered as he got used to the warmth of the store.
Snow had always looked so beautiful on television. In reality, it was tedious.
He picked up a basket, and glanced down at the list he'd written on his phone. He didn't need much, given he was planning to take a night train to his home, as to arrive on thanksgiving morning, though he was going to splurge on his food for the next few days. Thanksgiving with his parents was hardly going to be an enjoyable affair, and as such he felt that he was owed a good meal. In that spirit, he had downloaded a selection of audio books and movies to watch and listen to on the train; it would make the upcoming weekend more bearable.
A little sensation of sadness filled him when he thought about his plans. He had spoken to his roommates, and their weekends all sounded delightful. Laxus was returning to New York to spend it with his grandfather, Bickslow and his two father's had rented a lodge, and Evergreen was having a large family get together by the beach.
Freed, though, had his parents. Two adults in a loveless marriage, pestering him about his studies passive aggressively, while eating a meal prepared by an underpaid caterer. Hardly the start of a hallmark movie.
Still. It was four days, that was all.
As he filled his basket, he allowed his mind to wonder. What would it be like to sit at Evergreen's table, eating a pot-luck style thanksgiving dinner with a crowd of people who, by her description, sounded adorably homely? How would it feel to be sitting in the forest with Bickslow and his dads, roasting marshmallows while the supposedly eccentric men indulged in stories of their past in the circus? How much better could it be if he were in Laxus' apartment with the rawcus little man, eating at their kitchen table while nursing the mulled cider Laxus claimed they always had after their meals? They all sounded a hell of a lot better than the clandestine obligation of the one meal a year he shared with his parents.
With a jerk, he reminded himself that he was in a supermarket, and this was hardly the place to become maudlin. He had plans for the next two evenings, plans that didn't include studying nor a schedule of any sorts, and he was going to enjoy himself.
Striding through the store, he began filling his basket with everything he needed for the next few days. It was mostly food, but he did have a bottle of an expensive whiskey that paired spectacularly with hot chocolate. He typically didn't allow himself such luxuries, they were both financially draining and went against his diet, but he had allowed for a less regimented week. He's been consumed by his studies since beginning the academic year and, with only a few acceptions, hadn't allowed himself a break. This felt earned.
It was as he walked through the freezer section with the intent of buying himself some ice cream that his phone buzzed. While he expected a text from his parents, he was met with a news alert.
"BREAKING: State Officials Announce Closure of Public Transportation Over Holiday Period Due To Severe Snow Storms, Urging People To Avoid Driving Wherever Possible."
Freed immediately clicked onto the article, seeing that the snowstorm that had been battering the college for a week was only going to get worse, and as such planes had been grounded, trains halted, and bus routes cut back. It was fairly drastic, and spoke to how bad the snowstorm was going to be.
For only a moment, Freed found himself grinning. He physically couldn't leave the state; no better excuse for missing his thanksgiving meal with his parents existed! This was spectacular.
Of course, then the realisation hit him.
He wasn't the only person who was going to miss out on thanksgiving meals; his three roommates who had been talking excitedly about their plans would also be trapped. No doubt this would be a horrid blow for them all, and the moment they realised what it meant they would be less than pleased. Freed could only feel sorry for them; they had all seemed really excited by it.
For a moment, he paused for thought. Thanksgiving was important for families who cared for one another, and while Freed didn't feel that in himself, he could appreciate it. To endure the weekend trapped in a dorm would be horrible.
As he thought, his eyes turned, falling on one of the few remaining turkeys left in the store.
His roommates, perhaps unknowingly, had done a lot for him over the past two months. His plans had been to seclude himself in his bedroom and focus solely on his work, and while he did have a habit of doing that from time to time, one of them would always batter down his door and force him to get a coffee, or share a meal with them. Hell, he'd even been dragged into their weekly game night, and it was quietly a highlight of the week for him. He felt it was time he did something for them back, and making the best of a bad situation was one way to repay them.
Before he could second guess himself, he placed the turkey into his basket, and began searching for thanksgiving day meal recipes on his phone.
November 25th
"What do you need me to do?"
At the question, Freed looked up from his laptop, which was currently showing him a recipe on how to make honey glazed sprouts. He had thought he was alone in the kitchen, as both Bickslow and Evergreen were loudly talking with their families over the phone, so Laxus' sudden appearance had made him jump slightly. He didn't miss Laxus' small grin at that.
"What do you mean?" Freed asked, frowning.
"I mean," Laxus said as he approached, picking up a navy blue apron from a chair and sliding it on. "I'm your helper for today, tell me what you need me to do."
"While I appreciate that, I don't think it's necessary," Freed said immediately, because it didn't feel right to have his friends working with him. He was cooking this meal because he wanted them to have a somewhat nice time over the weekend. "I'm sure I can handle this myself, I've gotten good at cooking."
"Ain't denying that," Laxus nodded. "But gramps is a kickass chef who's been doing it for over fifty years, and he still struggles with thanksgiving. So you're gonna tell me what you need me to do, and I'm not gonna hear otherwise."
"You've somehow managed to mix forcefulness with subservience," Freed commented, looking back at the recipie.
"One of my many skills," Laxus said, and Freed could hear the grin in his voice. It was incredibly tempting to look up to see his grin, because he looked so damn handsome when he grinned. Though, Freed could hardly think of a time when Laxus didn't look handsome. "And another one of my skills is cooking, so you wanna tell me what I'm doing?"
Freed relented; Laxus was stubborn when put upon. "I'm making mashed potatoes; you could start peeling if you'd like."
"Yes sir," Laxus said with a nod, taking the peeler and standing at the small pile of potatoes. The 'yes sir' resonated in Freed's mind. He focused on preparing the sprouts, and given how small the work surface was, every once in a while their arms would graze against one another. Freed would be lying if he said it didn't send a chill through him each time.
Laxus was something Freed had not expected from his college experience. He had known there would be men to turn his head, and perhaps someone who might charm him, but he hadn't expected both to be in the bedroom opposite his. When it came to dealing with Laxus, Freed found himself at a loss.
Oddly, he didn't mind that at all. He actually enjoyed it.
The two men stood side by side as they worked, with the music coming from the smart speaker and the muffled conversations of their other roommates to fill the comfortable silence between them. It was good; domestic, one might say.
That was unacceptable to think about, and so Freed spoke again. "How are you feeling, not being with your grandfather today?"
Laxus seemed to think for a moment. "I don't know, really. Weird, I guess," He shrugged as he moved onto another potato. "I know he's found someone to spend the day with - one of his neighbours - so I'm glad he ain't alone. And this is a lot better than sitting in my room feeling crappy, so I can't really complain. Do kinda miss him, though."
"Have you spoken with him?" Freed asked as he placed the tray of sprouts into the oven, below the turkey. It smelt divine.
"Not yet," Laxus said, but didn't seem bothered. "He volunteers at a soup kitchen a couple times a month, and he's helping manage it today, so he'll be busy. Once he's done with that, he'll go to the neighbours for dinner and said he'd call me after that," Laxus was smiling as he peeled the potatoes. It was spectacular. "He spends most of the time sitting and eating, and then on the day he's meant to sit and eat, he suddenly goes into overdrive. Old bastard."
"He sounds like a good man," Freed commented, imagining what it would be like to think so fondly of his parents.
They would probably be sitting down for their dinner now, drinking and eating with as little conversation they could get away with. It was odd to think that something Freed had been dreading for weeks was probably exactly the same with or without him; it was disheartening to think that he was as important as the tablecloth in his thanksgiving meal.
"He is," Laxus said, snapping Freed out of his distraction. "You never said what you were planning to do."
"Oh, I expect it's very much the same as everyone else," Freed said dismissively. "We talk, we eat. Mainly we go through the motions of the day because society dictates so."
"Really, so you don't have any traditions or anything?" Laxus said with a small frown. Freed looked away, not happy that his words made Laxus' grin drop so suddenly. "Not even like a weird dessert or side dish that doesn't really work with the meal but you insist on having it?"
"My parents typically hire a chef for the day and request that they cook what's popular each year," Freed said, looking down for a moment.
In the recesses of his mind, he remembered a thanksgiving day when he was eight, and the dessert had been a banoffee pie which he had loved. The next year he had asked his parents if he would be having it again, only to be told that the chef had decided on a roulade instead. Maybe, if the situation was different, that could have been the start of a tradition of banoffee pies every year.
Quickly, he blinked himself back into the present, and looked down at the recipes on his laptop. He glanced up at Laxus to see him frowning at him.
"You should cut those up," Freed instructed, nodding to the now peeled potatoes. "And be quick about it, I have everything planned to very specific timings and I shan't allow you to bring me off schedule."
"You have a very rigid plan?" Laxus asked, faking being incredulous. At least he wasn't focusing on Freed's moment of quiet. "That ain't like you."
"You're very funny Laxus," Freed commented. "But rather than being funny, why don't you cut the potatoes. And make sure to dice them, they need to be boiled quickly and while I've no doubt you're strong enough to mash them even if they're not completely soft, I'd rather not be in that situation at all."
"No doubt huh?" Laxus said under his breath, and the comment made Freed glance to Laxus' strong, veiny biceps for a short moment. Laxus was speaking again before he could fixate on it. "You get bossy when you're cooking, you know that? Reminds me of a pissed off TV chef."
"What a compliment," Freed said sarcastically, though smiled.
"Think I'm gonna get you a chef's hat for Christmas, and an apron, just so you can look the part," Laxus teased, and Freed chuckled. "You okay to model for me when you open it? Need to know I got the right colour."
"If you ask nicely then I suppose I might," Freed said.
"I always act nice," Laxus exclaimed, and Freed gave him a disbelieving look. "Fine, sometimes I'm kind of an asshole. But I'm pretty sure I'm an asshole in a way that oh like, so you can't complain."
Well, Laxus had him there. So, rather than saying anything, he continued to cook and smile privately to himself. This Thanksgiving was going to be a good one.
That Afternoon
"Thanks for doing this man," Bickslow said, sitting beside Freed.
The meal had been successful, and had tasted rather good. Laxus had been invaluable, and he was entirely certain that he wouldn't have managed to get everything done in time without him. They'd sat down to eat in the mid afternoon, and his roommates had been complimentary of the final product, thanking him profusely even though he insisted it hadn't been much of an issue. He had enjoyed cooking, actually. Maybe the company had been partly to blame for that.
Now it was past six, and the four of them had left their building and walked to one of the campus courtyards. Freed, during his shopping, had found a disposable barbecue, and so they were roasting marshmallows and making smores in the snow. It was as close to Bickslow's regular thanksgivings as Freed could make, and Bickslow had given him a bone crushing hug in thanks.
Rather than the storm that had been promised, the snow was gentle now. Perhaps they might have gotten home with weather like this, but Freed rather selfishly was glad that things had turned out the way they had. This was delightful.
"You've said that often enough now," Freed assured Bickslow. "It's perfectly fine."
"And you keep sayin' that," Bickslow countered with a grin. "But I mean it, it was really nice that you did all this for us."
"Who's to say it wasn't for me as well?" Freed asked.
"We both know you weren't exactly looking forward to going back to your parents," Bickslow chuckled, and Freed frowned. "You ain't as slick as you think, every time we mentioned it you got all downcast and broody. I mean, you pulled it off and looked pretty hot while you were doing it, but it was still obvious. When you found out you couldn't go back, it was like you had a weight lifted or something."
"Sorry," Freed said, on instinct. "I should have been more sensitive to how it would have affected you all.'
"Nah, I was glad for ya. Didn't want you looking all sad for a weekend," Bickslow shrugged, rotating his marshmallow over the flame. "Was it really gonna be that bad?"
"It depends on how bad you suspected it to be, I suppose," Freed shrugged. "We're hardly a family. My parents don't like one another, I believe they had me in an attempt to mend their relationship. It didn't work, and I became something of a spare part. Now, we're just three people who know one another, and we feel forced to meet in the holidays."
"Damn," Bickslow whispered, and Freed cringed a little.
"Sorry, that was too much information, wasn't it?" Freed apologised. "It would have been painfully awkward, is what I should have said."
"Well, lucky for you it didn't happen then," Bickslow grinned, trying to lighten the mood no doubt. "And you get to have fun with us. Speaking of, I have a proposal for you."
"A proposal?"
"With snow like this, I'm pretty sure a snowball fight is gonna happen," Bickslow began, smirking. "So, I say we team up and launch an attack on them both now. Start off on the upper hand."
"A snowball fight?" Freed echoed, deadpan. "How old are you?"
"Snowball fights don't have an age limit, Freed," Bickslow countered, grinning.
"Perhaps not, but I'd rather be kept out of it," Freed said. He'd thus far avoided ever being in a snowball fight, and he would like to maintain that state.
"Fine, fine," Bickslow pouted a little as he spoke. "Guess I'll find some other way to pass the time. However could I do that?" He actually stroked his chin in an exaggerated performance. "Oh, I know! I could tell Laxus about how lovestruck you were when you were cooking, and how you were looking at him with the sweetest most soft expression in the world."
Freed halted, his rotation of his marshmallow stopping. He hadn't been looking at Laxus like that, had he?
Maybe he had.
"You wouldn't," He eventually said. Bickslow shrugged, menacingly. "Bickslow, I know you wouldn't do that."
"Maybe I would and maybe I wouldn't," Bickslow said as he stood. "Guess you'll just have to see."
And with that, Bickslow brought his roasted marshmallow to his mouth, stood up, and sauntered towards where Laxus was standing. He had been roped into recording a blog for Evergreen, and was holding the camera as she spoke to her audience. In his winter coat and scarf, he looked so handsome.
Freed could only watch as Bickslow slowly made his way towards Laxus. He was fairly sure that Bickslow wouldn't follow through on his threat; Bickslow was chaotic and seemed to find enjoyment out of teasing Freed's attraction to Laxus, but he wouldn't interfere. He knew that Freed didn't have the time nor the lack of self preservation to follow through on his crush, and getting in the way of it would be cruel for no reason. Bickslow wouldn't do it.
But, he had been drinking. And maybe he was more than a little tipsy…
Panic trumped good sense, and he found himself crouching down before he could think. He picked up a large lump of snow, moulded it into something close to a ball, and threw it towards Bickslow. It hit him in the back of the head, making him stop. Slowly, Bickslow turned, with snow in his hair and an expression of mingled shock and joy on his face,
"That upper hand you mentioned," Freed stated. "I'd rather have it all to myself."
And the devilish grin on his face told Freed that he might have made a mistake.
That Evening
Freed panted, resting against the wall as he recovered his breath. His hunch about making a mistake had been proven right, as Bickslow had proven himself to be a ferocious opponent in a snowball fight. Freed had been assaulted by snowball after snowball, and was now freezing cold and out for revenge.
He knew his safety wasn't going to last long, and that Bickslow and Laxus would soon be hunting him down. They were vicious and relentless with their attacks, and had multiple times caught Freed unaware. He was now soaked, freezing cold, and breathless.
It was spectacular.
This was something he had never known in childhood. He had grown up in the country, but far away from children, and with parents who thought that making a snowman was a sign of low intelligence. Simple childish fun had passed him by, and he was delighted in how much fun it was proving to be.
Snowball in hand, he clenched his fist as he heard footsteps approaching. He went to throw his snowball, but stopped himself when he saw that it was Evergreen.
The four of them had naturally fallen into two teams. It had started when Bickslow had ducked out of the way of Freed's snowball, and it had hit Laxus in the middle of the stomach. After the shock had worn off, he had grinned at Freed in an undeniably sexy way, and promised that he would get him back. When he and Bickslow had begun an onslaught that Freed couldn't fight against, Evergreen had come to his assistance, thus creating their teams.
"Were you going to throw that at me?" She demanded, looking at the snowball.
"I thought you might be Laxus or Bickslow."
"You think I have the same walk as Laxus or Bickslow?" She sounded offended.
"I didn't put that much thought into it," Freed drolled, before seeing the phone in Evergreen's hand, which seemed to be on the camera. "Are you recording this?"
"Live-streaming," She said in explanation. "They love it."
"How many people could possibly enjoy watching shaky footage of the four of us having a snowball fight?"
"At the moment," Evergreen began, looking at her phone screen and smiling. She turned it towards Freed, looking proud of herself. "Twenty seven thousand."
"Good god," Freed whispered. He knew Evergreen was somewhat popular, and made money off her social media, but that was more than he had anticipated. He suspected that if he said that out loud, he would get a slap on the arm. "They need to have more interesting lives."
Evergreen gasped, turning her phone so Freed was in shot. "Don't listen to him, he's just jealous."
"I'm not," Freed said, looking down the camera. It was a struggle not to grin. "Your lives make me sad."
Evergreen went to say something, but her words died when two shadows were cast over them. Both she and Freed turned to look at Laxus and Bickslow, who were grinning wide at them. They'd picked up the lid of a trash can, and it was covered in over twenty snowballs that were ready and waiting to be thrown at them. Freed and Evergreen were trapped.
Freed was suddenly jolted forward, pushed towards the two men by Evergreen. He looked back at her with an incredulous expression, and she grinned.
"You promised if I distracted him, you'd let me go."
"We did," Laxus grinned. "Make sure you get a good shot of it. Because it's going to be amazing."
Evergreen scampered off, and Freed was faced with two lions with snowballs. He swallowed a little, and went to open his mouth to ask for some kind of mercy. A snowball hit him straight in the chest, and once they began, they didn't stop.
That Night
Freed frowned a little as he heard a short knock from his bedroom door.
He had retired to bed after the snowball fight had ended, with him being entirely defeated. After a long and delightfully warm shower, he'd dressed himself in his sweats and began his normal nighttime routine of reading a chapter or two of the latest novel he had brought. He was just considering going to sleep when the knock had come.
Walking to the door, he forwent a shirt as it would only be one of his roommates. When he opened it, he saw Laxus standing there, holding a large mug. He was almost certain he saw Laxus swallow a little, and his eyes darted around Freed's bare chest.
Hm. That was interesting.
"I erm, I brought you this," He proffered the mug to Freed, voice a little higher than normal. "As a peace offering. No hard feeling after obliterating you in the snowball fight."
"Obliterating is somewhat hyperbolic," Freed mused, looking down at the mug. It was filled with hot chocolate, with a swirl of whipped cream on top and marshmallows half melted inside. "But that you, that's thoughtful of you."
"Wasn't difficult to make," Laxus shrugged. "And thanks for all you did today. It could've been really crappy if you hadn't taken charge. So thanks for that."
"You don't need to thank me. Honestly, I rather enjoyed it," Freed admitted. "I quite liked being in control of a holiday. Most often, I'm at the behest of a schedule and in the company of people who don't want me there. This was a nice change of pace."
"All holidays that bad, huh?" Laxus asked, and Freed nodded. "Guess you ain't looking forward to Christmas then?"
"Not at all," Freed chuckled. "But I doubt a snowstorm will happen twice."
"At least you'll get some gifts, right?" Laxus asked.
"Actually it was made very clear that, as an adult, I no longer need gifts from my parents and I should be standing on my own two feet," Freed smiled a little ruefully. "I think they enjoyed telling me that."
"Shit," Laxus cussed. "Well, if you tell me where you live, I can promise to hunt you down and pelt you with snowballs so you can have as much fun as you had today."
"I'll hold you to that promise," Freed laughed.
For a moment, they were quiet. Freed was still standing in the doorframe to his room, and Laxus was in the thin corridor. They were close enough that Freed could hear the slight hissing of Laxus' breath, and see up close just how handsome a man he was. Freed wasn't often this close to another person, and he was struck by how much beauty a man could hold in the details of his face. The minor, almost imperceptible imperfections that you could only see from such a short distance were shocking, and alluring in a way Freed couldn't put into words.
He leant forward, no more than half an inch. Nothing invasive, nothing that couldn't be taken back, but enough to test the waters. Laxus moved forward as well, in a small movement Freed only barely noticed.
They could kiss. In that moment of shared silence, where Freed could see Laxus so clearly and plainly, all they would have to do was lean forward a little more, and they would be kissing.
Blaringly, Laxus' phone erupted into sound in his pocket.
For a moment, they were both frozen. Laxus seemed to break first, and pulled the phone from his pocket. When he whispered a quiet 'fucking hell old man' Freedd guessed that it was his grandfather. When Laxus showed the phone to him as if answering a question, he saw the name 'Gramps' printed above a picture of an older man.
"Should probably get this," Laxus said, a little unenthusiastically. "Sorry."
"No, you should speak to him," Freed countered, even if his heart was still hammering in his chest and his body wanted to toss the phone aside. "I'll leave you to it."
"Right," Laxus said, taking a step back. "Er, goodnight then."
"Goodnight, Laxus."
Laxus turned to leave, and Freed began to close his door. Just before it was fully shut, Laxus' hand caught it and wrenched it open again. The phone was still ringing in his hand, but he didn't look like he was going to answer it.
"About Christmas; could you get out of going to your parents if you tried?" Laxus asked, seemingly out of nowhere.
"I suppose so," Freed answered with a frown. "They've got so many guests coming, I doubt I'd be missed. Why?"
"You wanna come spend Christmas with me and Gramps?" Laxus almost forced the words out, and they sounded rushed and bitten. "It ain't luxurious or anything, but it sounds less hostile than what your other option is and Gramps is always saying he misses when he had a full house on Christmas, so he wouldn't mind. And… I'd like it if you were there."
"I wouldn't want to be an imposition," Freed argued, not sure what to say to that. It was so… kind.
"You wouldn't be, honestly," Laxus assured him. "You might be sleeping on a sofa bed, but Gramps cooks too much anyway and honestly the way you looked when you talked about going home for thanksgiving made me wanna punch your parents. I'd be feeling shit about letting you go there, so I'd rather have you at mine."
Again, the words were rushed. All that filled the silence was the continued call from Laxus' grandfather.
"I'd," Freed began, not sure what he was going to say. "I'd love to spend Christmas with you, Laxus."
"Great," Laxus said, and the smile that erupted on his face made Freed's knees weak. "I should really get this. Night, Freed."
"Goodnight, Laxus."
This time, Freed fully shut the door and took a moment to process what had just happened. The near kiss, followed by the sweetest gesture Freed had received, had completely blindsided Freed.
All he knew now was that he had plans for Christmas, and that his feelings for Laxus could no longer be ignored.