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If Pete has one single wish at this exact second, it would be to be wearing more clothes. He doesn't care what clothes, they don't have to be nice, or matching or anything like that. Warm would be good though.
Pete is standing outside his apartment block freezing his nuts off, wearing next to nothing, with the rest of the residents in his building, at three in the morning. Not exactly his idea of a perfect Friday night. All of this while the fire department barrel through the building to check out an alarm that was raised in one of the other apartments.
So actually, if Pete has one wish at this exact second it would be for his building to not be on fire, so that he could get back into his bed and continue his not sleeping in the warmth.
He had begged off meeting Patrick for a Friday evening drink, and instead decided on a quiet night in with his tv and a pizza. He had crawled into bed shortly after midnight with all the intentions of sleeping. But his brain wouldn't let him so he had tossed and turned for hours until he had nearly leapt out of his skin as the deafening, ear piercing sound of the fire alarm had invaded his apartment. He had made a run for it with only time to shove his feet into his sneakers and grab a ratty blanket off his bed to cover himself. All he had been wearing in bed was, sadly, only the oldest, most threadbare pyjama pants he owns.
Why couldn't his building decide to burn down on a balmy summer night when ancient pyjama pants would have been plenty warm?
He would usually feel pretty ridiculous if he was standing outside wrapped in a blanket, with no shirt on, except that he's not the only one. And there's other residents wearing less. He's insanely jealous of the guy who lives downstairs from him who looks like he's dressed in several layers and he's had the foresight to wear his coat too, clever prick. On the other hand he feels downright awful for the girls who live across the hall from him who are wearing practically nothing, just skimpy nightdresses. He would offer them his blanket but then he might die of frost bite too, and it would probably take away the opportunity for someone to use it as their excuse to be their knight in shining armour like he knows the two college guys in 4B really want to be. Someone beats them to it though and soon the girls have those shiny metallic blankets on that look like the foil used to cook a turkey in on thanksgiving.
He's staring off into space, thinking how much worse it could be if he'd decided to sleep naked tonight (and seriously whenever he sleeps naked next he's going to make sure he has emergency pyjamas on standby, just in case), when his neighbour from down the hall catches his eye and nods hello. His neighbour from down the hall is a guy that he's only really talked to once when Pete's mail ended up in his cubby hole by accident. Pete had opened his door and thought all his Christmases had come at once, when a tall, blonde guy with cheek bones that could cut diamonds was standing there handing him two envelopes and a small package. All he'd said was "this seems to be yours" and walked off with a quirk in the corner of his lips that could be a smile. Pete wanted it to be a smile. Pete may have stuck his head out his door to watch the guy walk away, he's only human. He'd noticed him a bunch more times after that but they hadn't spoken anything more than single worded greetings. He'd wanted to find out more about him but decided that was creepy. He put his stalker hat on only once to check the guys name on his mail slot; Mikey Way.
Pete nods back to Mikey and he registers that while standing on the cold street, dressed in a fucking blanket, it wouldn't be his ideal outfit to woo his hot neighbour in (and he would very much like to try to woo Mikey). But Mikey is dressed similarly so maybe it's not so bad. Mikey is also wearing pyjama pants and what looks like his comforter, which is wrapped around him, but unlike Pete he's actually wearing a shirt underneath it. Also what's unlike Pete's attire, is that Mikey has no shoes on. His feet must be like ice on the cold concrete.
The strange man who lives two floors above Pete is doing the rounds, talking to everyone. He's a harmless guy, nice enough, but he talks endlessly and Pete is certain he doesn't have the energy tonight. Just as the guy is five feet away from him and about to open his mouth (and Pete knows what the guy will say, he's overheard him have the same conversation with four other residents), Mikey comes to his rescue and appears at his side.
"So. lovely evening for a block party, huh?" Mikey dead pans, and Pete has to laugh despite the shitty evening.
"Yeah. Who needs to have parties at a normal hour, when the weather is above zero degrees?" Pete sees his strange neighbour slink away, off to talk to someone else, and he's eternally grateful to Mikey.
"I'm Mikey, by the way."
"Pete."
"I know. I got your mail once. I'm pretty jealous of your shoes, Pete."
"I'm jealous of your shirt, man. It's goddamn freezing. My nipples are so hard I could cut glass over here." Mikey's eyebrows raise and Pete mentally kicks himself a little for talking to his very attractive neighbour about his very cold nipples. But then Mikey looks like he gets it.
"Same." Pete relaxes again as Mikey opens his comforter an inch as if to demonstrate, but promptly pulls it tight against him again because it's fucking cold out.
"Any idea what happened with the fire? Is it serious?"
"No idea, but I don't think it's serious." Pete nods towards the two firefighters standing talking by the fire truck. "They don't seem too concerned so I don't think anyone is hurt. I hope not anyway." As much as Pete is pissed off to be waiting outside in the cold, he has also been genuinely worried about the fire and his fellow residents. That's more important than his whinging.
"I wonder if it takes long to find out? I've never had been part of something like this before, thankfully." By now he and Mikey are standing shoulder to shoulder watching the fire fighters to see if they can get any indication of what's going on. Or, they would be shoulder to shoulder if it wasn't for there being a blanket and a comforter in the way.
"I'm sure they'll tell us." Pete glances at Mikey, and the dim street lights are only highlighting his fantastic cheek bones. When Pete had seen him before tonight, Mikey had had perfectly styled hair and now it's all askew. He looks sleep rumpled. Everybody does. But it looks good on Mikey. While Pete is looking at him, Mikey's phone buzzes in his hand and it startles them both.
"Gota get this. I told my brother there was a fire in case I have to go stay with him tonight, and he's probably just checking on me."
Mikey gestures that he's about to move away but Pete laughs before he goes.
"Wait. You forgot shoes but you brought your cell phone?"
"I wasn't quite awake, you know." Mikey smiles but wanders off to answer his call.
Pete goes back to staring into space and day dreaming (night dreaming?) about woollen blankets and open fires and hot water bottles. He knows he's being dramatic, it's not sub zero, he's not going to get hypothermia anytime soon, but it's still chilly and he's still not happy to be here in the middle of the goddamn night. He bounces on the balls of his feet a bit, then sort of dances from foot to foot to keep warm to hopefully pass the time.
Word makes it's way through the crowd of residents about the cause of the fire and one by one, people are giving the evil eye to the two college guys from 4B. It turns out that partaking in the eating of stoner brownies and then trying to make s'mores in a toaster can cause a fire. Who knew? It seems that there's no extensive damage to the building, it was all contained within the one apartment and Pete hears that it's even all within the kitchen. So it's not serious, thankfully. The guys look mostly shamefaced, but also baked as hell. Pete would laugh if he wasn't contemplating punching them both and stealing their shirts for extra warmth.
Pete's extremely grateful when the fire fighters give them the all clear to return to their apartments. Thank fuck, he can't wait to be warm again, all toasty and cosy, wrapped up in as many blankets as he can fit on his bed without suffocating himself. He makes his way to the front door like everyone else, moving as quickly as he can, though he gets stuck in the bottleneck of people all trying to get inside too. He ends up standing beside Mikey in the shuffle.
"I didn't even know there was this many people living here," Pete says, staying close enough to Mikey to talk to him in the push to get back inside to the warmth.
"I know. Can't wait to be warm again."
"Warm feels like a distant memory. I don't think I appreciated all the socks that I own before now."
"You didn't? At least you have shoes on, man!"
They take the stairs together. Both apartments are on the third floor, nothing too far, but they're much to used to taking the elevator and they both cover the fact that they're ever so slightly winded with shy smiles at each other. Pete's stomach twists over Mikey's little smile, and he actually fucking giggles. When was the last time he giggled?
Pete has to walk by Mikey's apartment to get to his own and he slows down as they get to Mikey's door. He's unsure if he should just say goodnight or try to keep talking to him. Because he's really enjoying talking to him, despite the bizarre circumstances that got them chatting. Mikey has his key in the door and opens the door enough that he could slide away and go back to sleep. But instead he turns to Pete.
"So you weren't sleeping?"
"Nope." Pete just shrugs.
"And you're probably not going to go to sleep now?"
"Probably not. I have trouble with that sometimes."
There's a moments hesitation from Mikey before he opens his door wider.
"Do you want to come in? I can make cocoa."
"Hot cocoa?"
"No, ice cold. Nice and refreshing." He looks at Pete like he's crazy, but his eyes are smiling. "Of course hot cocoa!"
"Fuck yeah. Hot cocoa would be amazing right now."
Pete follows Mikey in, his blanket trailing a little behind him. He's starting to feel a little silly in his blanket now that he's inside again but there's no way he's surrendering it, both for the fact that he would end up in Mikey's place shirtless and because he's still cold.
Mikey heads for the kitchen and starts on the cocoa. Pete hovers in the living room until Mikey returns and sits down when Mikey gestures towards the sofa. The blanket slips off Pete's shoulder and the cold air sends a shiver through him when it ghosts over his skin. The building is warmer than outside but it's still the dead of night so he pulls it back up tight around him. Mikey disappears into his room, still wrapped in his comforter, and comes back with an armful of clothes. He throws something at Pete, and Pete has to let go of his blanket to catch it. It's a thick and warm hoody and he's so grateful to put it on. He catches Mikey watching him as he stretches and pulls it over his head. "Much better than a blanket. Thanks."
He watches Mikey pull on the other hoody - though admittedly Pete is a bit sad that Mikey had managed to get out of his apartment in a t-shirt when the alarm sounded, because if Mikey was going to ogle Pete's bare chest, Pete should at least be able to do the same, it's only fair. Mikey grabs the two mugs of hot cocoa from the kitchen and joins him on the sofa.
The cocoa is comforting and warm and Pete wraps his hands around the mug, like it's a lifeline. He's not letting go of that mug until it's empty.
They wind up sitting on Mikey's couch for the best past of an hour discussing the other residents of the building; like the strange talkative guy from upstairs, to the sweetest old lady on the planet that lives on the first floor that has given them both candy on occasion ("she reminds me of my grandma","me too!"), and the couple that live next door to Mikey who are always going at it like rabbits, loudly enough to be heard in the hallway.
"Those college guys though. I'm pretty sure the entire building hates them now."
"Oh, I dunno." Pete says, staring at his now empty mug. He's beginning to think he owes those stoners one. "Despite almost freezing my balls off, I've had a decent night in the end." He smiles at Mikey from under his lashes.
"Decent?"
Mikey leans forward. He's close enough to be able to fiddle with the string on Pete's hoody. He tugs on it lightly and Pete takes that as his cue to move in for a kiss. He tilts his head and closes the gap between them. He presses his mouth to Mikey's, slowly, softly. He can feel the scratch of Mikey's stubble against his own as he first kisses Mikey's top lip, and then the bottom. Mikey pushes back, opening his mouth and letting Pete in. His tongue is wicked as it strokes along Pete's, and Pete can't help it when his breath hitches. Pete curses Mikey's hoody when his hand slides up his body, the thick fabric a barrier between him and the planes of Mikey's chest, so he settles for brushing his thumb along the skin that meets the collar of the hoody instead. Mikey practically purrs at the contact and it makes Pete smile against the kiss.
When Pete pulls back he runs his tongue over his lips, licking the remnants of Mikey off them. His thin, shabby pyjama bottoms do nothing to hide how much that kiss turned him on, and he's pleased that he's still clutching his empty mug in his lap. Maybe it provides a diversion. He's pretty sure that his night has taken a turn somewhere right around Mikey's tongue, and it's gone from decent to indecent. He's also pretty sure he's fine with that.
"Okay, more than decent," Pete admits, and Mikey's smile is wider than any of the ones that he's given Pete so far. It's beautiful, and Pete thinks (knows!) that he's in trouble here.
Pete absentmindedly pulls the sleeves down over his hands. Their heads are still close enough that Pete could easily kiss Mikey again. He almost does, but Mikey speaks first.
"Still cold?"
"A little I guess." And it's not a lie. Pete's still a little bit cold, it's taking longer than he would like to warm himself up entirely. It's as if his bones are still chilled and have yet to thaw out fully.
"You know, Pete, it's probably warmer in my room." Mikey says, and there's that half smile on his lips again. "In my bed." Pete's eyebrows head for his hairline, but he smiles.
"Warmth is important," he says, contemplating. Though there's not much to decide. "You sure?"
"Wanna find out?"
Pete reaches his hand out for Mikey to take. Mikey doesn't hesitate. He pulls Pete up off the sofa, and Pete lets him lead him towards the bedroom.
Yes, Pete definitely wants to find out.