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Ronan’s face was surrounded by the icy fog of his own breath. “The fuck was wrong with me thinking a vacation in Canada in January was a good idea?” The wooden deck crackled loudly as he walked across it, nearly losing his balance twice as he moved.

“Dammit Ten, this weather is more frigid than my ex and that’s saying something.” Stupid asshole was colder than Christmas day in Siberia, which incidentally was probably a damn sight warmer than Toronto.

Ten rolled his eyes as he listened to his thin-blooded, thick cocked husband complain about the weather. What did you expect? Flip flop weather?”

“Bet it’s warmer in fricken Antarctica, it’s goddamned summer there…” Ronan muttered as he kept moving forward. It was so cold his skin felt wind-burned and he was pretty sure the next blast of icy wind was going to rip the skin clean off his face.

“It’s so cold I bet the hookers downtown charge $20 just to blow on your hands.” Ronan knew frostbite could set in within thirty minutes of exposure in -20 degree windchill, the weather girl on the local ABC affiliate had been saying it once every 10 minutes for the entire newscast. “Life-threatening cold,” she’d called it.

“Wish my cock was as stiff as the wind, Christ I think my balls are drawn so high they’re holding a royal flush.” He thought he heard Ten snort with laughter, but it could have been the actual wind or cold madness or his brain function ceasing as he slowly froze to fucking death.

“This is like the ice planet Hoth. Not gonna gut then climb into the still warm body cavity of a Tauntaun. Don’t even ask, Ten. Don’t care if you have a Han Solo kink.” Han Solo in the captain’s chair of the Millennium Falcon, now that was something he could work with, if his cock defrosted and didn’t crack and break off in the bone-chilling cold.

“Leave me here to die alone. Go on without me, Ten. Tell my mother I love her. Goodbye cruel world.” There were so many things he’d never have a chance to do; snorkel with sea turtles, eat snails in Paris, enter a wet tee-shirt contest. It was a short life, but a good one. He hoped his husband would miss him.

“Don’t pine for me forever, babe, just ten years or so. I want you to be happy with someone less handsome than me…” And with a smaller dick. Ronan almost burst out laughing. He was afraid if he did, his tongue would freeze and fall off. Wouldn’t Ten love that!

“No man left behind, drama queen.” Tennyson hollered. “It’s ten more feet to the car which has been warming up for twenty minutes.”

Ronan snorted, both nostrils froze shut. He hurried the last few feet to the car. “What the hell was I thinking coming this far north in the middle of winter?” He must have been temporarily insane when he agreed to come with Ten to a personal appearance in Canada.

“You were thinking that you love me,” Ten said with a sappy smile.

Ronan nodded. “Damn right I was.” He pressed his cold lips to Ten’s nearly frozen cheek. “I’d do anything for you, including freezing my ass off.”

“Ditto, babe.” Ten kissed him back. “Think of how nice a hot shower’s going to feel when we get back to the hotel later.”

“Can’t wait.” Ronan felt warmer already. It didn’t matter where Ten went, the Arctic Circle, the Amazonian Rainforest, Antarctica, or back home to Salem, Ronan would always be at his husband’s side. With a little drama thrown in for good measure.

THE END