Shibani and Holland's Snowball Blitz ❄️

Shibani lay tangled in the blankets. The warmth of the Pillow Pile called to him, and he had no intention of leaving it. At least until Dan’s deep voice rumbled through the quiet.

“Shibani, get up,” Dan said, his tone firm but not unkind. “You’re not spending the whole day in bed again.”

Shibani groaned, burying his face deeper into the pillow. “It’s cold,” he mumbled, his voice muffled.

Dan sighed. He leaned down, his shadow falling over Shibani, and tugged at the edge of the blanket. “It snowed last night. Holland’s already outside, and he’s waiting for you. Come on."

Shibani peeked out, his red eyes blinking at Dan. “Snow?” he asked, his voice soft with sleepy curiosity.

Dan nodded. “Yeah. Enough to blanket the whole place. Now hurry up before I carry you out there myself.”

Shibani knew better than to doubt Dan’s threat. With a sigh that was half resignation and half amusement, he sat up, the blankets pooling around his waist. “Fine,” he said, yawning. “But I’m not going out there without my scarf.”

Dan smirked and tossed the scarf from the nearby chair onto the bed. “Already got it for you. Now move.”

A short while later, Shibani stepped out into the crisp winter air, bundled up in his scarf and coat. The snow crunched softly under his feet as he followed Dan toward the small clearing where Holland stood. Holland’s short and silent figure was unmistakable, even from a distance. He was dressed warmly, a thick scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. The ballgag—a constant reminder of Harley’s dominance—was still in place, though Holland’s posture was as relaxed and gentle as ever.

When Shibani and Dan arrived, Holland waved, his expression warm despite his willing inability to speak. In the snow at his feet were a small pile of snowballs, perfectly round and ready for action.

Dan clapped a hand on Shibani’s shoulder. “I’ll let you two have your fun,” he said, his gruff voice tinged with affection. “Don’t hold back, Shibani. Holland’s a good shot.”

Before Shibani could protest or ask Dan how he knew about ‘Holland’s good shots’, Dan walked off to lean against a nearby tree, crossing his arms and watching the scene unfold. Shibani turned back to Holland, who tilted his head playfully before picking up a snowball. 

The silent challenge was clear.

Shibani chuckled softly. “Alright,” he said, crouching to gather some snow. “But don’t blame me if you get cold.”

The first snowball sailed through the air, thrown by Holland with surprising speed. Shibani barely dodged it, laughing as it narrowly missed his shoulder. He retaliated with his own snowball, which Holland caught on his arm with an amused tilt of his head. 

The game was on.

They darted around the clearing, the snow crunching under their feet as they dodged and threw snowballs. Despite his sleepy nature, Shibani found himself grinning, his cheeks flushed from the cold and the excitement. Holland was quick and agile, his movements almost graceful as he avoided Shibani’s attempts to hit him. At one point, he even rolled to the side, coming up with a fresh snowball in hand and tossing it with pinpoint accuracy.

It hit Shibani squarely in the chest, making him laugh. “Alright, alright, you’re better at this than I thought,” he admitted, brushing the snow off his coat.

Holland’s eyes crinkled in a silent smile. He picked up another snowball, but this time, he didn’t throw it immediately. Instead, he held it out to Shibani, a peace offering. Shibani hesitated, then accepted it with a small laugh.

“Truce?” he asked.

Holland nodded, his expression soft. They stood there for a moment, catching their breath and taking in the beauty of the snow-covered clearing. The trees were draped in white, their branches heavy with snow, and the world around them was quiet and still.

Dan’s voice broke the silence. “You two done already?” he called, his tone teasing.

Shibani turned to look at him, a mischievous glint in his eye. Without a word, he packed another snowball and lobbed it toward Dan. It hit him squarely on the shoulder, leaving a puff of snow behind.

Dan raised an eyebrow, brushing the snow off. “Oh, you’re asking for it now,” he said, stepping forward.

Before Shibani could react, Dan scooped up a handful of snow and launched it at him. It hit him in the chest, making him laugh as he stumbled backward. Holland joined in, throwing a snowball at Dan with surprising accuracy.

What started as a one-on-one snowball fight quickly turned into a three-way battle, laughter ringing out through the clearing as snow flew in every direction. By the time they were done, all three of them were covered in snow, their cheeks red from the cold and the exertion.

Shibani flopped down onto the snow, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. Holland sat down beside him, his expression serene and content. Dan stood over them, shaking his head with a small smile.

“You’re a mess,” he said, his tone affectionate.

Shibani looked up at him, his red eyes sparkling. “Maybe. But it was worth it.”

Holland nodded in agreement, his silent presence speaking volumes. The three of them stayed there for a while, enjoying the quiet of the snowy day, their breaths misting in the cold air. For Shibani, it was a perfect winter memory—simple, sweet, and filled with warmth despite the chill.