First Frost (ONC 2023 Novella, MxM Paranormal)

1: Snow Globe

A sprinkling of snow is the only thing that's missing to make this night perfect.

That and Anton.

I gaze over the crowds to find my friend. Blinking lights illuminate the crowded dance floor with every beat, making t-shirts, sneakers, and teeth glow sparkling white. Underneath it all lies a cool blue sheen, making the whole club appear like a frosty polar night.

Arctic Tunes is what the event is called, arranged by my university's Meteorology department. A night of dancing and partying like you are a penguin at the North Pole. Or maybe the South Pole, because isn't it on those shores that the penguins actually dwell?

Usually, such knowledge is on the tip of my tongue—despite studying Meteorology rather than Geography—but currently, my mind is warped by a few too many drinks, making me forget simple facts. Or perhaps it's the company rather than the beverages that are messing with my brain.

"Joakim! Here!" Upon hearing my name, I hastily navigate between dancing and sweaty people to answer the call. The floors are sticky. With every step, the soles of my shoes cling to the surface below, which is coated with a layer of spilled drinks.

Soon, Anton's blond bangs come into view, mussed to the side in a messy way that somehow also looks perfectly planned. I successfully combat an urge to run my hand through the alluring tresses.

"I lost you," I mumble. This is true both in our current situation, separated among masses of partying people, and for our friendship in general. Since I moved to Stockholm to study—while Anton stayed back in our hometown, working an apprenticeship as an electrician—the gap between us has grown not just in physical distance. But tonight, with Anton visiting me in the capital, there seem to be no such boundaries.

This is long nights of video gaming, biking to floorball practice, and studying at the corner table in the library all over again.

This is graduation night, jumping and scream-singing along to "Forever Young" on top of the tables in the yacht club their class had rented, without the interference of unruly classmates and giggling girlfriends.

This is our night. Our only night. Our last night, perhaps.

"I got this for you." Anton shoves a blue drink in a glass that looks like a block of ice toward me. In his smile are mischief and nostalgia. Neither of us will speak the words but we both know we will walk different paths after tonight. We will see each other when I go home to visit my parents, but things will no longer be the same. Our connection will become more and more strained. Anton is set to move in with his long-term girlfriend Sofia next month and it wouldn't surprise me if they marry and have children within the next few years. All the while, I will continue studying weather phenomena on my lonesome.

Joakim Frost, weather researcher. It sounds like a bad joke. But in spite of—or perhaps because of—my last name, watching the weather change has always been my passion. My earliest memories are from observing the clouds with my grandfather and writing down notes in his worn weather diary.

"What is it?" I ask, looking at the blue liquid, which looks suspiciously similar to wiper fluid.

Anton shrugs and smiles. A chill goes through my chest, like frost spreading across the rib cage but in a pleasant way: flourishing roses of cold blossom into a beautiful tapestry. "It's strong," he just says, chugging a big gulp of his drink.

I return the smile and put the cold glass to my lips. The liquid tastes like blueberries and dreams come true. I take another sip. The room turns foggy before me as the brew makes its way down my throat. All I can see is Anton. Blue eyes shimmer along with strobing light. Blond strands of hair stand on end from sweat and nervous hair pulls. White teeth glitter as he flashes yet another smile.

That's when the music switches. Familiar tunes begin to play.

Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while

Heaven can wait, we're only watching the skies

Our song. The song we never danced to. Not for real. Not alone.

Blue eyes sparkle as they meet mine. "Do you want to dance?" Anton asks, reaching out his hand in a chivalrous manner that could be jokey but actually seems sincere.

I take the hand, because how could I say no? I let Anton pull me across the dance floor, squeezing by bodies that gyrate with motion.

The floor is still sticky. With every step a squeak comes from my shoes, reminding me of the sound newly fallen snow makes when underfoot.

My glass is still half full. I down the remaining liquid—probably obliterating the last remnants of common sense in my mind—and leave it on a passing table. Common sense is overrated anyway. Fear, reason, and awkwardness are gone. All that remains is euphoria.

Out of sync and out of tune we dance, jumping like maniacs beside each other. The world turns into a snow globe around us as white light cascades across our sweaty bodies. The floor is filled with people but in our bubble, it's only us.

Let us die young or let us live forever

We don't have the power but we never say never

That's when it starts to snow. Inside. Glittering huge snowflakes whirl, encasing us in their magic.

Perhaps it's a special effect on account of the club's theme night or a figment of my wasted mind. What does it matter? Reality and logic had long since seized to exist anyway. Music. Snow. Anton. That's all there is.

As the veil of magic descends, Anton stops jumping and singing. He stands still, looking at me while sparkles land on his face and shoulders. Another wickedly handsome smile adorns his lips. A smile I sense is just for me.

Unable to fight my urges any longer, I take a step closer. The snow closes in on us, creating a whirlwind around our bodies. With a light finger, I stroke a strand of hair away from Anton's face, noting that the hair itself appears to be covered in glitter, almost as if the frost originates from my finger.

A tap on my cheek tells me that my friend is affected by the same magical spell. We have both fantasized about this but thought it to be impossible. But tonight, nothing is impossible.

This is our night. Our only night. Our last night. Our first night.

So many dreams swinging out of the blue

We let them come true...

Everything glitters and aches as I move closer and closer. His eyes, his nose, his smile. So near. So perfect. Soon nothing remains between us. Anton's lips are cold in a pleasant way, like a cold drink on a hot summer day.

A whirlwind of wondrous and unreal—because surely this must be a dream?—snow twirl around us as we kiss. Over and over. Forever. The kisses taste of blueberries and fulfilled dreams.

Forever young...

Author's Note: Yes, I know. I probably need to remove those lyrics eventually. But they fit so perfectly with the feel of the scene!