Snow Day

A short scene set in the Dominance universe.

“Wake up. Come on, Stephen, wake up.”

The voice was annoyingly persistent, irritatingly loud, and gratingly cheerful. And even worse, it kept chirping right in Stephen Dominick’s ear. He groaned, and swatted at whatever was pestering him so rudely.

“Go ‘way.”

“Wake up. It’s snowing.”

“If you’ll go away and leave me alone,” Stephen mumbled into his pillow, “I’ll give you a million dollars.”

“I don’t want a million dollars. I want to play in the snow.”

“Two million dollars.”

“Snooooooowwwww. Get up, I said.”

Annoyed into movement, Stephen rolled over, flopping onto his back and cracking open an eye with great reluctance. It was, he noted, morning. Early morning, judging from the dark-gold light that streamed through the windows. Far too early for any sane person to be awake, on a day he didn’t have to go to work, anyway.

As the CEO of a multinational corporation, Stephen  didn’t get days off very often, not even on weekends, and when he did, he liked to sleep in as late as possible. But his fiancé apparently had other plans.

His soon-to-be-murdered fiancé, if Gabriel didn’t stop pestering him.

“How remarkable,” he grumbled. “It’s snowing. What an absolutely amazing meteorological occurrence. A truly once-in-a-lifetime event. Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Nope.” Gabe bounced, actually bounced, on the mattress beside him, like an overgrown Labrador retriever. His face glowed with childish joy, belying his six-foot-plus height and his heavily muscled body. He was a glorious sight, his ebony hair rumpled, his face angelic in its perfectly-hewn beauty, and Stephen could ordinarily stare at him for hours, transfixed by his unearthly good looks. But right now he wanted nothing more than to shove the other man off the bed. “I told you already. I want to go play in the snow.”

“Go ahead. I’m not stopping you.” Stephen's eyelids began to drift shut, but Gabe poked him.

“No. I want to play in the snow with you.”

Stephen heaved a long, resigned sigh. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you. In fact, I harass you unmercifully because I love you. I wouldn’t want you to miss the joy of creating snowmen, or of making snow angels, or getting your ass kicked in a snowball fight.”

“Or freezing my fingers and toes off. Gabe, surely you realize by now I am not the adventurous sort. Venturing out into adverse weather conditions, when one can remain comfortable and warm, strikes me as foolish. On a day such as this, I prefer to sit next to the fire and admire the snowfall from inside a nice toasty house.”

“Booorrrring,” Gabe pronounced.

“I’m not boring. I’m practical. And sleepy. Very sleepy.”

“The cold will wake you right up. Come on.”

Stephen knew when he was beaten. He sighed and stretched, then shoved the quilt off.

“Fine,” he said sulkily. “Let’s go outside.”

*****

It was fun. Stephen had to admit that, even if he didn’t want to. Yeah, maybe he’d rather be in his big bed, nestled snugly between Egyptian cotton sheets and a pile of warm and cozy comforters, with Gabe's even warmer body curled around him, but this, he acknowledged to himself, was nice. More than nice, in fact.

It didn't snow all that often in Virginia Beach, which meant every snowfall was an important event, an experience to be enjoyed and cherished. They'd gotten almost a foot overnight, and the snow lay like a fluffy white blanket over the grounds of his home, making the familiar gardens and trees, now bare for the winter, look fresh and new again. The storm had passed, and the sky above was a vivid blue, the exact shade of Gabe's brilliant eyes. He turned in a slow circle, admiring the picturesque scene.

And something hit him smack-dab in the middle of his chest.

Blinking, he looked down at his parka, and saw that a snowball had exploded there. He lifted his head, and stared at Gabe, a steady, measured gaze that would have anyone else shaking in their snow boots. Gabe just laughed at him.

“Every year it’s the same,” he said, chuckling. “You act like you’ve never even heard of a snowball fight before.”

Stephen didn’t bother to explain that as a child, he’d never been allowed to engage in anything as frivolous as snowball fights. He didn’t have to. Gabe knew it all already. Gabe was aware he’d been brought up by a serious father who’d been intent on “developing his genius,” as Dad had always put it. That meant when other kids were playing games and watching TV and running around, Stephen was studying violin and art, getting tutored in math far beyond his grade level, and reading things like War and Peace and A Tale of Two Cities. No kids’ stories for him, only Serious Works. His dad had been a big believer in Serious Works.

It had all made him into the man he was today.

He still wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

A second snowball hit him in the exact same spot. Gabe had played Little League for a while as a kid, and he had a good arm. Stephen hadn’t had those particular childhood advantages (his father having been firmly convinced that art and literature and mathematics were more important by far than sports), but after five years of battling Gabe every time it snowed, he’d become passably good at throwing a snowball. Besides, he had a killer instinct Gabe lacked.

He was wearing warm gloves, beneath which hid the engagement ring Gabe had given him for Christmas, with its small but precious diamond. Knowing there was no danger of losing his treasured ring in the snow, he bent and hastily packed together a snowball, and then two, and before long he had Gabe on the run. The younger man disappeared behind a corner of the huge brick mansion, laughing like a hyena, and Stephen gave chase, his snow boots thudding through the heavy snow.

As he came around the corner, a barrage of snowballs hit him. He dove out of the way and stumbled, winding up half-buried in a snowbank. He rolled over onto his back and squinted up at the bright blue sky. Gabe appeared above him, looming over him with the air of a conqueror.

“Do you surrender, Stephen Dominick?”

Stephen stared steadily up at him for a long moment, then grabbed suddenly for his leg. Gabe gave a yelp of surprise, and toppled over into the snowbank. Stephen climbed on top of him, pinning him, and grinned down at him in triumph.

“That’s something you really ought to know about me by now, Gabe. I never surrender.”

He bent, and pressed his lips to Gabe's. As always, the younger man's arms wrapped around his neck, and his lips parted, soft and sweet and acquiescent. The snow rose around them in surprisingly deep drifts, and the icy dampness began soaking into Stephen's jeans, but he didn't feel the cold. All he was aware of was the heat and strength of Gabe's big body beneath his.

Sooner or later, he reflected, Gabe always surrendered to him.

But despite his proud words, Stephen thought as he melted against his fiance's body, when it came to Gabe, he always found himself surrendering too. And that was okay, because Gabe made his life better in myriad ways.

Even on a cold and snowy day, Gabe kept him warm.

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