The decision is unanimous.
Ice whispers across the windows, a patina of lace. It shimmers on the streets and along the walls of buildings. Businesses have either shut down because the ice has fractured pipes, or because it's simply too cold.
In Javi, Yuzu, and Shoma's flat, none of them have left bed, and lay quivering in their pajamas under the duvet.
"I guess we should close the rink," Shoma says, happily sandwiched between his two partners.
"We should," Javi nuzzles Shoma.
"That would mean posting on the site and calling students and staff," Yuzu says.
"That means leaving bed," Shoma remarks.
Yuzu shrugs and Shoma pouts, fluttering his long dark eyelashes. Javi sighs.
"Fine, but you both have to call your students."
Javi gets up, and Shoma regrets letting him do so, because his warmth is now missing.
Swearing about the cold, Javi wraps on his bathrobe and gets his laptop. He sits on the edge of the bed, updating the rink's website and schedule. Shoma tugs at him: come back.
Javi ignores him until the website is updated, and he's called all the staff, right down to the zamboni drivers. Then he rolls back into bed.
"Your turns," he says.
Though they are still in bed, Yuzu and Shoma call with gusto, letting their students know the rink is closed due to ice. Finished, they both put their phones back on the bedside table.
The three are drawn to each other then, limbs tangling, breath fanning warm across throats and faces. Shoma, stuffed in the middle again, is giddy with the nearness and the heat of Javi and Yuzu.
Javi rubs his nose against Shoma's, then Yuzu's. Yuzu and Shoma return the gesture while all three giggle like little boys.
"It's so ironic, closing the rink because of ice," Yuzu says.
He kisses Shoma behind his ear and Shoma's body crackles. Not yet with desire, but with the joy of companionship.
Javi kisses Shoma slow, soft.
"We could stay here all day," Shoma says.
"Mmmm, yes," Javi hums.
And so they do.