#the lennons

Summary: John is whiny after his fingers get cold while tying Cynthia’s ski boots.

“Oh! John!” Cynthia called out in surprise to her husband.

John’s head whipped around, “Yes, dear?” He asked as he turned around and began to walk towards her.

“John,” she repeated, grasping his arm to steady herself on the snow covered ground, “my boot is untied.”

“And?” John asked, clueless to what she was asking of him.

“Could you tie it for me? I don’t want to take my gloves off,” she asked in a sweet voice.

He stared at her for a moment, blinking.

“Please, John,” Cynthia whimpered, “you wouldn’t want my fingers to freeze off would you?”

John sighed, squatting down and tucking his warm gloves under his arm as he tied her boot into a tight bow, his hands already beginning to go numb as they were exposed to the cold air.

“Thank you, love,” Cynthia said into John’s ear, wrapping her arm with his as they made their way back to the ski lift.

The two snow bunnies went down the slopes several times during the rest of the day, but not without multiple complaints from John about how cold his hands were because he’d done a simple task for his wife.

On the chair lift on their way back to the top of the slopes, John huffs as Cynthia cuddles closer to her husband, “It’s so cold here,” she says softly, leaning her head on John’s shoulder.

“Yer tellin’ me, I haven’t been able to feel my hands since I took my gloves off to tie your damn shoe!” He exclaims, refusing the cuddle his wife is offering him.

“Oh, don’t act like its the end of the world, John. You’ve only been complaining all day about it, give it a rest,” Cynthia retorts.

The conversation is soon forgotten as the pair go down the slope once more before making their way back to their hotel together.

Once in their room, John is back at it, “I can’t believe I did that for you, risking my fingers to tie your boot. I still can’t feel my fingers, Cynth, it’s fuckin’ ridiculous!”

It’s clear John is frustrated, and there’s nothing Cynthia can do to dissolve the tension in the room, so she just quietly changes into her pajama set, crawling into bed in silence, awaiting her husband.

When John does finally join her, he nuzzles his face into her neck, “I’m sorry, Cyn. It was a bit ridiculous of me to lash out on you for that,” he says quietly, his lips making contact with her neck sweetly.

Cynthia is about to respond to John’s comment when he begins to speak again.

“But, I can’t let this go unpunished,” he states as he slides his still frozen hands under her shirt and placing them against the warm skin of her pale stomach.

“John!” She screams, kicking and pushing John away from her to get away from his frozen fingers.

John is cackling loudly as his hands remain clamped on Cyn’s hips, pulling her against him as Cynthia screeches trying to free herself from John’s clutches.

Once his hands begin to warm up and Cynthia has stopped flailing to try and get away from him, she turns to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I hate you,” she says fondly, nuzzling her nose with his.