Page 8 of Snowed In

“Not great. I, uh…yeah. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get out. Even if I left right now.”

“Would that be the worst thing?” Magnus asked him. There was something in his tone—something like hope, and something a little darker and more heated—and Adam’s face flushed, and his dick plumped a little in his boxers.

“I like to think I’m a decent house guest. I mean, maybe not the way you pictured spending your Christmas, but I do make a good hot chocolate.”

“I don’t like American hot chocolate,” Magnus said as he felt for the doorhandle.

Adam made a noise of protest as he climbed out, wincing because the wind was picking up. Yeah, the storm was going to be a real bitch. He didn’t want to die on the side of the road. He was staying.

“I’ll have you know I learned from the best. My Abuelita taught me the perfect recipe before she passed.”

Magnus turned to face him, brows furrowed. “Spanish?”

“Mexican,” Adam corrected. “My great grandmother, but everyone just called her Abuelita—all of us kids, and the ones in the neighborhood. She adopted my mom when she was five from a really fucked-up situation. It’s kind of why my mom’s all fucked-up. We don’t talk. Anyway, I don’t want to bore you with my childhood trauma.”

Magnus tilted his head to the side. “It’s not a bore, and I’d like to hear the story, but I’m afraid we’re going to freeze to death if we take any longer.”

Adam realized they were both shivering, so he quickly divided the bags amongst them, then guided Magnus to the door with his elbow. It took a little effort and bag-juggling to get in, but soon enough they were in the heat, bits of snow melting off their lashes and the ends of their hair.

Adam followed Magnus to the kitchen and set all the bags down. “Do you want to handle it, or do you want to direct me to where you keep stuff.”

Magnus’s face did that thing again, then he shook his head. “Why don’t you go plug in that fancy blanket of yours. And if you have anything in your car, better to bring it in now. I can feel it in the wind. It’s going to be heavy.”

He wasn’t wrong. In the few minutes it took them to get the groceries inside, visibility had gone down. He didn’t want to go backout, but he didn’t have a choice. There was a damn good chance his car was going to be buried by morning.

“If you hear me scream, don’t risk your safety. Just leave me for the wolves.”

Magnus laughed. “There are no wolves, but I’d fight a pack just for you.”

Those words warmed him, strangely, as he hurried to the car to grab the rest of his things. By the time he was back in, the only thing he wanted was the damned heated blanket, a mug of very warm hot chocolate, and maybe Magnus sitting a little closer than friends should rightfully sit.

Only one of those things felt like a real fantasy, and with the way Magnus had been with him that afternoon, even that veil was getting thinner and thinner.

Coming back in was a relief. The cold was next level, and Adam was wholly unprepared for it. He wasn’t built for this kind of weather. Magnus was obviously descended from the goddamn Vikings, and frankly Adam would not hate the sight of him out there in the snow with his chest bare like he was channeling Thor.

“You didn’t collapse?”

Adam realized he’d been standing in the foyer holding all his stuff, dripping all over the floor as snow melted off him. “Ah. No, I didn’t collapse. I got lost in thought, sorry.”

Magnus walked toward him, one hand trailing the wall. “What were you thinking about?”

The question caught him so off-guard, he couldn’t think of a lie. “Have you ever shoveled snow with your shirt off?”

Magnus was stunned into silence. Then he cleared his throat. “I don’t think that would be very safe. Hypothermia isn’t a very fun way to die.”

“Isn’t it just like falling asleep?” Adam asked, then dropped his stuff to slap both hands over his mouth. “Sorry,” he said, the word muffled from behind his fingers.

Magnus found him in half a dozen steps. His hands were out,searching, fingers touching his face and the way Adam was forcing himself to stay quiet. He smiled on a sigh. “I like when you say whatever’s on your mind.”

“Even if I’m being an idi?—”

“No. I don’t like that word,” Magnus said before Adam could finish his thought. “I think it’s sweet. I like you.”

Adam’s cheeks heated. “I have no idea why, but thank you.”

Magnus hummed, frowning, then he dropped to his knees and his hands swept out to inspect everything Adam had dropped. “Is this all you have?”

“I wasn’t really planning on a winter vacation,” he admitted. “This was supposed to be a quick trip.” He could see the living room window from where he was standing, and in the moments he’d been inside, another few inches had dropped. “I could be here a few days.”

---