Chad's head barely snaps up before it's covered in powdered snow, the icy-cold a shock to his system. When he sputters and wipes the worst away, Jared's grinning at him from the other side of the yard, winter cap pushed back on his forehead, grin as wide as Jared's beloved Texas sky. His overcoat and jeans are already covered in snow. Looks like he'd been rolling around in it, and, well, knowing Jared, he probably had. "You fucking dick," Chad calls, affection and retaliation in his voice as he vaults the porch railing and lands, feet-first, on the snow-packed ground. Nothing but white all around them. They may as well be the only two people on earth. "C'mon, man, where's your sense of fun?" Jared answers, but Chad can see he's got the good sense to start backing away. "When I catch you, dude, that'll be fun," he promises, shifting his weight from foot to foot, breath wispy-white as he follows Jared's movements, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. "Gotta catch me first." Jared grins again – more brilliant than the snow – and makes a break for the trees just behind him. Chad scoops a mound of snow in his bare hand, and hefts it, testing the weight. Then, with his own grin, he lets it fly. The snowball hits Jared, with pitcher-perfect accuracy, on the back of the head as Chad lets out a war whoop and gives chase. The perfect start to a vacation.
|