Sigurd tried his best to avoid slipping around on the wet ice beneath his own heels but failed, feeling brat tug him down to the floor with him.

"Fuck!---"

Fredrik started snorting out giggles, making his face all red as he watched the older Swede slip down to Mikkel's level. They were both on the floor and looked a mess. Sigurd pushed his dark hair back from his face as he kissed Mikkel on the lips. Who cared what they looked like.

"You cheeky brat."

Maybe he needed this kind of chaos in his life because a lot of people said he was far too serious and needed to lighten up. Dating an eighteen year old would do this to a man.