Hitting the ice hard on his shoulder, Will rolled until he was on his back, the cold bleeding through his clothes. The air was all but punched from his lungs, and it was a struggle to gain breath. Above, the sky was dark and dotted with stars, though hardly visible in the constant light from the city. He tried to pick out constellations, but so few managed to shine through the ever burning light haze here.

“Have you died?”

A swish, blades cutting on ice, and a shadow fell over Will. Casting his eyes to the side without moving his head, Will sighed dramatically.

“Obviously James. I’ve hit the earth like a dying star and thus shall become a part of it.”

“You’re on ice.”

“Then the cold shall lock my bones and freeze my already cold heart.”

“Good lord Will.” The words were exasperated, but there was laughter in James’ voice. “Get up.” He extended a gloved hand, and with great dramatics, Will rolled his eyes and took James’ hand. He offered no assistance though, letting his body lie like a dead thing as his friend pulled on his hand.

“Will.” He was really laughing now, a smile lighting his face that Will couldn’t help but return. Reaching, James took hold of Will’s other hand, attempting to use both to haul him to his feet. It had the opposite effect though, and precariously balanced as he was on his skates, it took little effort on Will’s part to topple him. A flash of a grin, one quick tug, and James was sprawled across Will, looking bewildered.

“You bastard.” He said, muffled against the dark gray wool of Will’s coat. There was no real heat in the words, and Will laughed. He slapped James’ shoulder.

“Off, you’re heavy.”

“No. This is your fault. Live with the consequences.

“Don’t you recall, I’m dead. I can’t very well live with anything.”

“Oh for Pity’s sake.”

Through much scrabbling and cursing and laughing, they stood. They gripped each other’s forearms, James to reassure Will, Will to steady himself as he wobbled on the skates. He was confident and adept at a great many things in life. Ice skating was not one of them.

“Alright?” James asked, loosing his grip somewhat. Will cautiously started to ease away. He wavered, tipping alarmingly, and James grabbed his hand. He grinned ruefully at James, gripping his fingers tightly.

“This might be the better option at the moment, lest I fall flat on my face next.” James huffed, taking a step to glide, pulling Will along.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we? Where would you be if your beautiful face wasn’t so beautiful?”

“On the streets, desolate and without a hope.”

Rolling his eyes, James led them around the rink, knit glove and leather glove gripped together, shoulders brushing every so often. Winter in New York was cold and biting, but the air was sharp and refreshing at night, even with the wind. At this hour, the open air rink was nearly empty, Will and James the only skaters. Peace settled in James’ chest, warm and content, the kind only fresh air and Will could bring about.

Once Will was a little more comfortable on the skates, James took Will’s free hand. Facing each other, James swung them in a slow wide circle. He had to smile watching Will, who was all wild hair, flushed cheeks and wide eyes. There was a boyishness that made him look twelve rather twenty five, unbridled joy in his smile, so different from his usual flat expression or over dramatic theatrics. This was genuine, and happy, it made love swell up so hard and fast in James’ chest that it hurt.

Afterwards, in Will’s car with James driving, their coats damp and laid over the backseats, Will flopped back in his seat.

“That,” He said, making James pause in the act of turning on the car. “Was excellent. We have to do that again.”

Reversing out of the parking lot, James smiled.

“I agree. Though maybe not too soon. You’re going to be black and blue for a couple days, I’m sure.”

Will scoffed.

“I’m just fine, thank you. One or two tumbles on the ice will hardly damage me.”

“Six. You fell six times.”

“I did not.”

“You did. I counted. Even took a picture once” That might’ve been a lie. He did take a picture, not of Will busting his ass, but of his laughing face as he untied his skates.

“Such treachery, from my best friend. You wound me.” Will declared, removing his gloves and slapping the far vent to aim more warm air in his direction. James pulled onto Main Street, side eyeing his passenger and raising a brow.

“Would a hot drink make up for it?” From the corner of his eye, James saw Will pause.

“With Alcohol?”

“Possibly. It’ll be hot nonetheless.”

It was not, in fact, alcohol, but rather tea, which suited Will just as well. Seated in a dim corner booth, Will placed both elbows on the table, mug between his hands, and lightly kicked at James’ ankle. James raised his brows, kicking back and making Will grin.

“This was a good night. Thank you for dragging me out even though I was being a complete jackass.” Not without reason though. He knew, even if Will didn’t speak of it, that today was the anniversary of his Mother’s death.

James sipped his tea, which while steeped a little too long, was gingery and rich.

“You’re always a jackass.” He replied, attempting to hide his smile in his drink, but he knew Will could see it in his eyes.

“I saw Mary Lee’s text earlier. Why didn’t you go on that date with her tonight?” James mock frowned at him.

“And miss the opportunity to see you eat shit on the ice?” Never.”

Will studied him silently for a moment, blue eyes steady, and then he smiled, and kicked James’ ankle again.