Outside, the wind tumbled, the snow rolling within it like a tumbling gut. Inside, Hiro clutched his own gut, feeling the pressure of eating his Christmas meal. He never intended to let Nowaki know the state of his stomach, but sadly, Nowaki had always been bright and caught Hiro at little his charade.

Now, inside, the couch that was made for three held two. Nowaki stroked Hiro's hair as Hiro tried his best not to let Nowaki that he was touching his ear in just the right spot.

But there was that damn smile, and Hiro knew that Nowaki knew.