A/N: It actually kicks off here, thankfully. I apologise for the all-over-the-place mess this entire story is in advance.
2. snow
Ivan crashes rather unceremoniously through the door of his room at a rather ungodly hour of the morning, after spending the night hunting down and losing track of a young American poltergeist causing problems in the area. He is cold and wet from the snow outside - while not being a storm exactly the early winter weather isn't something to be out in for more than a few hours.
He peels away his coat and shakes snow out of his scarf, fighting against a yawn, quietly muttering under his breath - stupid poltergeist doesn't know when to stop - and turns to face the ghost waiting in the middle of the room.
Yao is stood on one leg, perfectly balancing as his foot doesn't quite touch the ground, with the other leg swung up at an almost 180-degree angle. His arms are folded causally across his chest as though this is something he does a lot.
"Have fun killing ghosts?" he asks.
"No, not really," Ivan replies.
"Shame." Yao's face twitches slightly in some silent observation and he drops the leg he was holding in the air, rising to match Ivan's height better. He is short, very short - or Ivan is just very tall - and he has expressed gratefulness for ghosts' immunity to the effects of gravity more than once. "What was so bad about it?"
Ivan shuffles towards his bed and collapses in some kind of heap. "The poltergeist we've been after all this time got away again. You know the one, the American ghost that turned up a while ago."
"Oh, yes - Alfred Jones, right? He's annoying. I didn't know he was annoying enough to be classed as poltergeist, though."
"Well, he is."
A quick glance at the alarm clock on the desk tells Ivan that the time is nearing four AM - he's been out chasing Alfred since nine last night and he has classes tomorrow. It's not something Ivan isn't used to, though, he signed up for these all-nighters when he signed up to join the ghost chasers. "Wait, how do you know Alfred?" he asks blearily.
"I get around more than you think, clearly."
Ivan can't quite see from his position sprawled across his bed, but he thinks Yao is in front of the window facing away from him. He imagines the smile that must be playing at Yao's lips - he often looks away and hides his face when he smiles. "I didn't really think you did anything more than sit around here and complain to me."
"I do a lot more than that, thank you very much." This time, Ivan can hear the smirk on his words.
There is a quiet pause as Ivan lays silently on his bed, watching Yao's back as he stares out of the window. It's funny, he thinks, how Yao leans against the windowsill but doesn't lean because he can't touch it - it's funny how he pretends to be alive sometimes.
"Was it snowing like this when you were out?" Yao asks.
"Yes, and it was cold and wet," Ivan replies. He frowns as Yao snorts, and they argue back and forth a little until Ivan begins to flag. He glances at the clock again - ten minutes past four AM - and tells Yao that he should probably sleep if he doesn't want to feel awful come tomorrow morning. Yao nods in understanding and Ivan doesn't bother changing clothes, just throws his boots across the room before rolling over and diving under his duvet.
He has just settled when the cold chill of the presence of ghosts sinks down beside him, and he opens his eyes to find Yao floating next to him. Yao's hair is rising around his face as if he were submerged in water - the kind of anti-gravity behaviour that Ivan's used to, and Ivan lifts a hand to touch it. His fingers phase straight through it, only a frosty shiver runs down his wrist.
"Don't mind me," Yao says, "I'll just be here, not disturbing you."
"You're cold," Ivan replies.
"Oh, does that offend you? I'm terribly sorry."
Yao shifts to give Ivan a hard look and Ivan grins into his pillow. For a few moments they are quiet, for a few more moments Ivan watches Yao's hair float gently at his shoulders and occasionally disappear through the pillow, and after a while Ivan raises his hand up into the air, fingers spread. Yao holds his own hand up to Ivan's - but they don't touch.
Ivan feels the presence of a hand against his, senses it in a space that isn't quite his own, but it is cold and stony, not like the soft warmth of a living person. He feels it there, sees it there, but if he tries to put pressure on it, it is as if there is nothing there at all - Yao's hand passes straight through Ivan's and leaves nothing but a chilling quiet spreading through Ivan's fingers. Instead of touching, Yao just hovers against Ivan's fingertips, not quite brushing the skin.
"Let's go out in the snow tomorrow," Ivan says.
"I'm not much fun in the snow," Yao replies. "Just warning you."
Ivan smiles and turns his hand so that Yao can pretend to lace their fingers together. "I know. I just want to do something kind of normal with you for a change."
"There's only so far you can go when normal and ghosts are both involved." His words don't display it but Yao's tone is light, and he is mirroring Ivan's smile.
"I know," Ivan repeats.
"Maybe we'll see Alfred Jones. Maybe you can exorcise him if we do."
The thought is ridiculous but Ivan agrees anyway, sighing maybe through another yawn. He remembers how early it is in the morning, how little sleep he's gotten over the past few days, and he lets his hand drop back to his bed. Yao's soon follows, and soon enough Ivan feels the cold shift as Yao rises and crosses to the other side of the room, to the window again.
"I'll distract him while you exorcise him," Yao says, "Then we'll be rid of him forever and the world will be made of rainbows and happiness for the rest of eternity."
"Sounds good."
Ivan isn't sure whether Yao hears his mumbled response underneath the covers, but he listens to Yao talk and talk and talk about exorcism and poltergeists and snow for what feels like hours, until the sounds merge and lull him to sleep. He's fairly certain Yao keeps talking after that, too.