To the foreign observer, the Scandinavian town of Lärkanshem is small and irrelevant. Its entire area fits twice within Manhattan, and its population is only a quarter of the residents of Austin. Not even historians are too interested in this piece of land in the extreme north of the planet.

However, such insignificance never concerned its residents. If the world ignored them, they would just ignore the world right back. From that city's point of view, the wedding dispute between neighbors in the night engrossed them more than ones between countries.

What that means is that the small interpersonal moments that big cities miss are the stars of the show in Lärkenshem. And the case of one moose, Inge, and his caribou friend, Kjell, was once the main attraction.

From kindergarten to high school, the two grew up close. However, after graduation, Inge decided to break with local traditions and left for college in the capital. Kjell didn't agree, but that didn't stop him from moving on with his life.

For the next four years, the men — and their other friends — maintained a good relationship over the internet. Inge would even come over for the holidays, and everyone would hang out and have fun as if they never grew up.

After so long, the moose returned to manage his parents' bakery and, to everyone's shock, a cloud of enmity covered the deer when they were together.

For some baffling reason, when they met face to face, an unbearable frustration filled their minds. Confused and irritated, they resorted to verbal attacks to satisfy the feeling. The exchange of silly but hurtful words had become so frequent that the rest of the group refused to hang out with both of them at the same time.

And despite everything, they remained friends. Chatting in groups or privately over the internet remained pleasant and cordial. So why did seeing each other cause them so much anguish? One Saturday night, they found out.

It was already 7PM on that wintry day, and in Lärkanshem, that means heavy coats, gas heaters, snowstorms and alcohol, lots of alcohol.

Exhausted from a day of dealing with the bakery's finances, Inge — already annoyed with all that snow, but determined not to let all that time go to waste — walked towards his favorite bar. When he saw the neon sign between his cap and scarf, he quickened his pace to escape that icy hell.

The door opened and the colors of the world reversed. The desolate dark blue became a warm orange populated by an abundance of people and bottles. The young moose jumped out of his overcoat and undid his scarf before taking a moment to enjoy the warm air.

He had no plans to meet anyone; few there had. In the small town's customs, you enter a bar and wander among the tables and seats until you find a vaguely familiar group to spend the cold night with. And it didn't take long for Inge to find a group that welcomed him with cheers and mugs of beer.

Time passed smoothly at that table. A complaint there, a disagreement there, but the mood remained content and peaceful. Many minutes—and glasses—later, Inge watched a horned figure approach the table. When the rest of the table caught sight of the approaching deer, annoyed murmurs filled their mouths. No doubt, Kjell.

A mighty weight fell on all the friends as the caribou approached the table. Everyone watched the two deer in absolute silence, waiting for what reaction the pair would have.

Within Inge, that same irritating, incomprehensible feeling bubbled up. He could have easily started a fight right then and there, however, alcohol and peer pressure changed his mind.

The moose's serious face broke into a smile. "Damn, you're late, huh!"

His voice broke everyone's concentration, causing them to burst into relieved laughter.

"Hah," the other deer replied, extending his hand to Inge, "it's just that some of us have real jobs. You would not understand."

The boy didn't hesitate to shake his hand back. “Uh huh, yeah," he said as he pulled his friend into a seat.

Hours passed. Between amiable conversations and mugs of beer, neither of them felt like venting that irritation. In that brief moment, the two returned to the simple friendship of their childhoods.

However, none of that quelled the frustration within them. Through his blurry, drunken eyes, Inge saw the caribou's form both affectionately and unpleasantly. From the way Kjell smiled, to the way he messed with his hair, and even the boy's unique scent, everything evoked both attraction and revulsion.

Who was that guy to Inge anymore? He himself no longer knew how to respond. Best friend, childhood friend, brother from another mother, nothing sounded right in the moose's mind.

The alcohol flowed against gravity into his brain. All his thoughts were diluted and jumbled together in a confused way. That longtime friend seemed simultaneously beautiful and grotesque, kind and irritating, welcoming and aggressive.

A clarity reached his drunken mind: the source of his frustration lied precisely in that divergence. Not understanding that person who occupied so much of his mind made his presence unbearable. Seeing Kjell and not understanding him irritated the moose.

The revelation Inge had at that bar, that winter night, would forever be etched in his memory… because he was about to ruin everything.

"Dude," said the moose to the caribou, breaking a moment of silence at the table, "like, what's up with you?"

In vino veritas . Drunkenness brought clarity to his mind, but lethargy to his body.

Everyone saw Inge through doubtful eyes. For a moment, everyone looked at the other deer, wondering if he had any idea what the hell his friend just said. To the group's dismay, the deer had the same confusion on its face.

Kjell shook his head. "What the hell?"

Inge's mind swirled, preventing more coherent sentences from coming out. “Like… you know? I don't understand you, bro, I don't know."

"Oh yeah?" The caribou saw his frustration boil once more and, thanks to his own lack of sobriety, let a drop escape his lips. “Try to think before you speak, then."

Amid laughter from the table, the moose gnashed its teeth in embarrassed disgust. He decided then and there: politeness and courtesy be damned, his message would get through.

“I've thought enough, you idiot," Inge said, altering the mood of the table. “I thought of the way you've been an asshole since I got back! What's your problem, huh?"

Disappointed murmurs flooded the table as Kjell looked at the man's cold face. There, he saw a license to release the emotions that had been simmering inside him since the beginning of the encounter.

"Asshole? Me?" said the caribou. “I'm perfectly fine! You are the weird one, dumbass!"

"Look! You're doing it again! Every little thing I say makes you so angry! What's your problem with me, huh?"

The caribou trembled with discomfort. In his fur, he felt the curious, judgmental eyes of the entire bar. The local instinct to be all up in each other's business had come to life. But that didn't matter, Inge's words mattered much more at that moment.

"You came at me first," Kjell said. "I don't have anything against you! It's always you who rips into me, jackass!"

"Oh, really!" Inge blared as he rose from his seat, "You just humiliated me and now you have the audacity to say that? Fuck off!"

Kjell got up soon after. "You're the one who said that nonsense! Speak properly and I'll answer you."

"Okay, then." The moose approached his friend and put his forefinger on the caribou's chest. "I'll speak clearly and you'll answer me."

"Awesome. I'm all ears."

Then, silence. The bravado that had driven Inge to that point dissipated, leaving his cheeks flushed. Clarity hit him full on; at that time, he could say what he felt and be humiliated, or he could tell him to “eat shit" and continue that frustrating game of emotional tennis.

He almost picked the second option, but a detail caught his eye. He saw deep inside his friend's eyes, his own eyes. Inge discovered there that they both carried the same irritation. The same doubts and the same fears reflected in an accusatory and innocent way.

At the realization, the fire created by the alcohol faded until fury drained from the moose's face. Only the caribou saw the transformation, and as soon as he noticed it, his own expression softened.

“I can't take it anymore," Inge said, shaking his head. “Do you hate me, Kjell?"

The other deer blushed at the words. "What?"

“It's because I left you behind, right? I knew you didn't want me to leave town… and I ignored your feelings."

Another moment of silence passed as the audience attentively awaited the young man's response.

Upon seeing those heartfelt words, intoxication and irritation evaporated from Kjell's burning face. His mind still remained unclear, but there he had no time to think; Inge waited for an answer.

The caribou's hands gripped each side of his friend's head, and forcibly brought their foreheads together—almost like a blow.

“Listen here," said the deer with eyes focused on his friend. "I do not hate you. You're my best fucking friend! And you saying something like that hurts like hell!" He felt his emotions welling up in his eyes, but he carried on as normal. "But, I get it. It's my fault, right? I was such an asshole… I'm sorry, Inge."

The moose, also teary-eyed, responded with a shaky smile. “No way! I'm the one who has to apologize."

"Hah! How about we both admit we were assholes and leave it at that."

“Hehe, it's fine with me."

Inge saw, for the first time in a long time, his friend without a shadow of frustration; how handsome he was. Ah, he should have known. This whole time, he wanted to understand him not just because he saw Kjell as his friend, not because they had known each other for so long, not because he was like a brother. His true feelings were romantic all along.

But, that wasn't the time. “One step at a time," he thought. That night they had lifted a weight from their relationship. They would have time to deal with that later.

“Hey," Inge said, wiping away Kjell's runaway tears with his thumbs, “don't cry. You're an ugly crier."

A short chuckle and the moose readied himself to return to drinking, content in the knowledge that the night wouldn't end in more terrible arguments.

He would take his seat, the curtains would close, and the audience would go back to their respective lives, happy to have seen a satisfying conclusion. However, he had forgotten: romance stories end with a kiss!

A sudden movement, initiated by the blushing caribou—and the freedom that only comes with intoxication—brought the two deer's lips together. Countless, coordinated gasps of surprise surrounded them as Inge still processed the situation.

Inge's stillness didn't last long; when he understood Kjell kissed him, he didn't hesitate to reciprocate. Drunk and inexperienced, the simple touch grew into slobbering, wild smacks. Desire and thirst, as neither of them had felt before, ruled their minds.

Panting, they parted their lips leaving a bridge of saliva that dissipated as they stared into each other's eyes. The air around them grew hotter. A little longer, and they would do more than just kiss…

"Hey!" A voice from the middle of the audience shouted. “Get a room, you two!"

The entire bar erupted in laughter, and the two deer blushed in response. The pair tried to return to their places, but a new problem arose: in the crush, their antlers got stuck.

They tried to untie it by force, but that didn't solve anything. Shame flashed across their faces briefly, but soon both broke into the laughter that surrounded them. Only with the help of another deer at the bar did they manage to break free.

The rest of the night went pretty smoothly after that. The circle—and the entire bar—continued drinking and chatting while the deer exchanged glances and smiles during the quieter moments.

It was almost 1AM when they decided to go home. The snow no longer blew like gunfire, but hovered calmly. Moose and caribou walked side by side with blushing faces and welded hands.

When they reached the point where their paths separated, and, of course, a question arose: would they go to one of their houses and do “more than just kiss" that very night?

One looked at the other in silent but deep thought. It didn't take words for one to understand the other's smile.

“Next time then?" Kjell said.

“Maybe…" Inge replied, with a teasing smile. "But only if you behave yourself."

“Heh, okay." The caribou pulled the other man around the waist and sighed in his face. “Can I get a smooch for the road, at least?"

A sly thought crossed the moose's head when he heard that. "Okay."

Kjell released his mouth from the scarf and positioned himself to receive another wild kiss. And he received a light peck to the right cheek instead.

When he went to protest, Inge had already walked away. The last thing he saw of him that night was his tempting tongue pointing at him. With a chuckle, he made his way home safe in the knowledge that there would be more time to make him pay for that.