Chapter Text
The dull throbbing behind your eyes was almost welcome at this point. It was something a little different than a headache. More like a presence; a wall of pain set right behind your eyebrows. Despite the ever changing nature of the outside world, and your house full of uncertainty, that daily pain was one thing that always stayed the same.
After the headache came the smell.
You’d only just begun to rub the sleep from your eyes as you noticed it. It was something like rusted metal and rotting meat– reminding you vaguely of your old neglected freezer. Death. It wafted up your nasal cavity and spoiled your mood. Someone had died last night. You realized the scene of the crime was in your living room before you even had time to contemplate what it meant that you were able to pinpoint the location by smell alone.
Well, the corpse wasn’t going to clean itself. Thankfully the harsh light filtering through your curtains was enough for you to get dressed without turning any lights on.
Yuck. Your usual sweater and jeans combo definitely needed to be washed. Too bad the laundromat was closed, presumably forever. You’d taken to washing clothes in the tub, but… it was currently occupied. Whatever. BO was better than the currently invasive smell of blood.
Once you were dressed, your hand rested on the doorknob. It had become almost a ritual to steady yourself before leaving your room each morning. Four long, deep breaths. In and out. You were going to be okay. No matter what individuals resided in your home, you still had your safe space. Your bedroom. You could always come back here.
Although you were extremely generous with the space you allowed these strangers to take up, you never allowed them in your room. That was the one place that was sacred. You’d even taken the time to move your few prized possessions and knickknacks to the sparse shelving in here after a few unsavory guests had admitted to thievery. Better safe than sorry.
Another sigh. You’d taken six breaths now, procrastinating leaving your safe haven, but who was counting?
Finally, you pushed the door open, squinting at the even brighter light in the hallway. It looks like you’d forgotten to close the blinds properly last night, a potentially grave mistake with how hot the sun had been lately. You internally cursed yourself.
Quickly shutting the blinds tight, you made your way to the living room door, pretending to be ready to face the gore that was most likely awaiting you. It felt like your whole life was just opening and closing doors.
The door creaked on its hinges as you pushed it open and surveyed the room. You really needed to put some WD-40 on that.
Oh… Jesus.
Blood caked the wall behind the couch, clearly the source of that disgusting smell. It was much stronger now, assaulting your senses and nearly making you gag. Bar guy’s limp body draped loosely over the cushions. His arm was hanging off the arm of the couch, pale and bloodless. There was nothing but gore and sinew where his head was supposed to be, as if it had exploded right off his neck. When had this happened? How hadn’t you heard it?
Somehow it looked like he was shot– his head blown smooth off– but nobody had a gun in the house aside from you, and you made sure to sleep with it beneath your pillow. Or, maybe somebody secretly did have a weapon. A hot spike of paranoia sent your stomach reeling. You quickly shoved it down. Anxiety wouldn’t solve anything. You needed to clean that up.
The only other person in the room was the ever pale Coat guy, quaking silently in the crook of the couch. He was positioned as far away from the actively rotting corpse as possible. Half of his coat was drenched in Bar guy’s blood. From the way the blood had hardened on the leather, Bar guy's death must’ve transpired a while ago.
You couldn’t tell if Coat guy was shaking from the shock of Bar guy’s gruesome death or from his constant chill. If you had to guess, probably both.
You’d given up on wearing shoes by now, due to barely going outside, but you almost wish you’d strung up your boots this morning. The way you approached Coat guy would’ve been much more imposing with heavier footsteps. If you were more commanding, you might get some proper respect around here. With your bare feet, he didn’t even look up— face still buried pathetically in the crook of his arm and his jacket hiked up to cover his head.
“Hey.” You spoke, voice surprisingly gruff. It was the first time you’d spoken today and it definitely showed. “Did you see who did this?”
Coat guy just twitched, eliciting one of your typical frustrated sighs. Lately you’ve been having more and more of those.
You settled for examining his coat. Closer inspection revealed that even small pieces of Bar guy’s eviscerated body had splattered onto Coat guy’s coat. Well, that wouldn’t do. He looked a mess. If he didn’t clean all the blood off, your whole house would be smelling like iron even after you cleaned up Bar guy’s bloodied body.
You watched with a dull expression as a thin, stringy piece of what you assumed to be Bar guy’s flesh slipped down Coat guy’s coat and landed on the couch cushion with an unceremonious splat, probably staining it. God almighty.
You can deal with him and his decidedly mute self later. Turning your attention back to Bar guy’s limp body, your arms preemptively throbbed. You had to carry him all by yourself? He was nearly twice your size and the sight of his deceased body was making you feel a little sick. You briefly contemplated asking for Coat guy’s help, but he was still inconsolable. Of course. Letting another sigh slip, you resigned yourself to a day full of work.
-
Only once you’d been scrubbing at the blood-soaked wall for a solid 40 minutes, you heard the sound of fabric shifting. Coat guy had finally looked up. His face twitched as you turned and made eye contact with him. Aside from his thin pupils, his eyes were unusually red and puffy. It didn’t look like it was from crying, though. Strange.
“You alright?” You asked, before thinking too hard about it.
An unreadable expression crossed his face. His gaze flicked from the wall, to your hands, to the impression on the couch where Bar guy had been. His brows furrowed almost imperceptibly before he looked back to you. Still silent. Go girl, give us nothing.
“So what, you’re mute now?” You huffed, turning back to the wall and scrubbing harder. Maybe you could’ve been nicer, but after blowing a couple guy’s heads off you stopped really caring what people think of you. It’s not like you were all that polite even before… before… ugh. You didn’t want to think about everything that’d gone down.
A quick glance to your right revealed that Coat guy had snuggled back into his coat, staring blankly at the other side of the room. Maybe he was in shock. His lips were set in a slight frown, eyes glossed over.
Annoyance started to bubble in your gut, despite yourself. He got to just sit there while you scrubbed blood off the wall? The least he could do was tell you what happened, but suddenly the cat’s got his tongue. You know who couldn’t go mute all day? You. Of course not. You had things to attend to.
You stood, head going slightly dizzy at the quickness of the motion. After the black spots had cleared out of your vision (maybe you should eat something), you moved to stand before Coat guy, leaning down and reaching forward to pull off his jacket. If you had to do everything yourself, you’d do everything yourself.
He immediately jumped at the near-contact. His wide eyes latched onto yours like a startled animal. “What are you doing?!”
Oh, so now he wanted to talk.
“This needs to be washed.” You said plainly, continuing to tug it off. His hands instinctively clamped down on your wrists to stop you and the cold made you suddenly shiver. God, he was more freezing than the corpse you’d just dragged outside.
Even he seemed surprised at the contact, instinctively flinching away before grabbing you again so you wouldn’t take off the coat.
“I c-” A shiver interrupted his speech. He curled in on himself. “..can wash it. Get off.”
“You’re not going to wash it. You haven’t gotten off the couch in two days.” Again, your voice had a demeaning edge to it that you hadn’t fully intended. Whoops.
His bottom lip pushed out a bit at your words– in what was probably an unintended pout. You could see the vaguely shiny inner part of his lip, damp with saliva.
“I will. If- if it bothers you.” He said, eyes furrowed, like he was annoyed you didn’t think he was capable. It’s not like your doubts were entirely unfounded. He really hadn’t gotten up in ages.
“When?” You asked. You’d tried to correct your tone. It came out a fraction softer.
He paused, staring at you, thinking. He didn’t blink. The silence drudged on a bit too long, pulling another involuntary sigh from you and making him bristle.
“Let me do it.” You emphasized a bit more firmly. His jagged, half torn off nails were starting to press into your wrist uncomfortably. In fact, his whole hand was pressed into your wrist oddly tightly. You’d figured it was from his initial panic, but he’d started shifting his palm a bit, like he was trying to get as much surface area on your skin as possible.
“What the hell are you doing?” You huffed, flexing your wrist. He looked up at you, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
“Your wrist is very warm.” He said. He seemed to be lost in thought, mildly fascinated. “It’s… warming my hand.”
His brow furrowed, and he returned his attention to where your skin met his. The couch creaked as he sat up slightly, his other hand moving to your wrist as well. His movements were jerky, unsure, but still determined.
“I haven’t found anything l-like this… Anything that… a-ac..” He fumbled over his words as another shudder wracked through him, “…actually warms me.”
Your mouth was set in a firm line. “That’s fantastic…” You said blankly, more focused on the blood on his coat that was now rubbing off onto your couch. His whole epiphany was great and everything, but that upholstery wasn’t cheap, and…
Coat guy’s index finger experimentally stroked down the inside of your wrist. The jolt that wracked through your body immediately snapped your attention back to him. Somehow his pupils had gotten even thinner, staring down at your flesh like it was his personal Holy Grail. Jerking away, you released his coat from your grasp and pulled your wrist from his hands.
A similar shudder shook through him at the loss of contact, the blood on his coat pressing even further onto the couch. You swore under your breath as he curled in on himself, looking up at you with an unfamiliar expression. It was hard to understand, some sort of fascination mixed with an apparent disbelief.
“How about you take off your coat and I’ll wash it?” You tried to level with him, ignoring the tingly feeling still ruminating along the vein on your wrist.
He gave you the most imperceptible shake of his head. The way his eyes were boring into your wrist had you thinking he might eat you alive. What a way to go, huh?
“Jesus Christ, man, level with me here. Either you take it off or I take it off myself.”
Finally, he looked back up at your eyes. His hands clutched indignantly at the lapels of his coat, tugging it closer. He really wasn’t gonna let up.
You leaned in a bit, still standing over him. Clearly your previous angle wasn’t working. “Tell you what… you said I can warm you up, right?” Your tone was softer, eyes still on his, “If you take the coat off, I’ll keep you from freezing while it’s being washed.”
For show, you wiggled your fingers a bit. You inwardly congratulated yourself when he glanced away, seemingly thinking it over. His teeth caught on his bottom lip as he chewed it absently.
There was a pause. You heard someone cough in the room over.
“F-f..” His brow furrowed with frustration at his stutter, “..fine.”
His tone seemed final, body loosening as he sat up. You could tell he was fighting full body shivers.
You hadn’t expected the gentleness to work so easily. Maybe it was because of his little breakthrough or something. Well, okay. You guessed it made sense– him being constantly cold and all. If you could help him feel a little warmer while you got stuff done, you’d do it. What an empathetic and kind soul you were!
“Alright,” You sighed, admittedly relieved. “Stand up. We’re going to the bathroom so I can wash this off.”
-
It was a struggle to get Coat guy up, his body curled in on itself and all, but you got there eventually. It was an equal struggle to ask the poor widow to step out of the bathroom. She didn’t like leaving her husband, but the bathroom was small, and three (four?) people in there was pushing it.
After multiple reassurances that what you were doing wouldn’t take too long, she begrudgingly obliged, settling for grabbing a coffee from the kitchen while she waited for the two of you to be done. You were glad she trusted you a bit more now, especially compared to how cold she was when you first met her. After she’d told you about how her husband was before all the tragedy, she’d became noticeably warmer towards you.
-
The bathroom was unnerving enough by itself– a feeling cultivated by the harsh, bare, occasionally flickering fluorescent light bulb hanging ominously from the ceiling and the grime coating tile floor, but it was definitely much worse with a stagnant corpse resting deathly silent in the bathtub. Hoping it wasn’t disrespectful, you tugged the shower curtain closed. Even with it closed, you still felt like he was watching.
Coat guy lingered behind you, leaning up against the closed door. He didn’t even seem to have the energy to look around the room, instead dully staring at the floor.
“C’mere.” You said, tilting your head towards the sink. His eyes dragged up to yours, then to the sink, brow furrowed in vague confusion.
“Where do you want me?” If it weren’t for the echoing nature of the bathroom, it’d be hard to hear him. Was he allergic to speaking clearly? Between the mumbling and the stuttering, you had to fight to understand.
His shoes scraped the ground as he slunk closer.
“Just lean against the sink or something.” You gestured. Now that you thought about it, how were you going to do this? It was going to be difficult to both warm him up and wash the coat. You felt briefly bitter at having to do this all alone.
While he did follow your direction, he only stood there idly, leaning his hips against the sink and looking at you expectantly. Sure, whatever. Apparently he couldn’t take his coat off himself.
You stepped closer, beginning to tug his jacket free from his shoulders. His whole body tensed immediately, an uncomfortable frown painting his lips. You could imagine how hard it was to fight the urge to curl in on himself. Just from the freeze you’d momentarily felt as he’d touched you before, you’d wanted to wrap yourself up in a blanket. You couldn’t imagine how it’d feel all over his body.
Okay, maybe you were starting to feel a little bad for him.
You were noticeably more gentle as you slid the sleeves down his arms. Experimentally, you trailed your thumb down his now exposed flesh as you pulled, watching intently as the jacket slipped down his arms. Somehow, he managed to tense more, letting a breath out. His eyes went wide.
“I-I.. It’s incredible.” He breathed out, “I didn’t t-think… I didn’t think it was poss-” He shivered again, biting down on his lip, hard. You instinctively went to grab his arm in a steadying motion, which just made him jerk away from the contact. Too much all at once, apparently.
You pulled away, eyeing him carefully. With his eyes shut tight, he shook his head. “Keep going. Just… c-careful.”
The nod you gave him was unhelpful, since his eyes were still closed, but you figured he got the sentiment as you finished pulling his jacket off.
For the first time, you were able to get a good look at him. His arms were thin and pale– not exactly boney but close to it– and his elbows stuck out a bit. It was sort of cute. In a freaky, probably unhealthy way.
His shivers brought you back to reality. Right, you were supposed to be warming him up.
Reaching around him to drop his coat in the sink, you brought your hands back and hovered them over his arms. He raised his shoulders, chewing on his lip listlessly, almost desperate for the contact– or so you assumed by the way he was starting to squirm from the cold. His head dipped, nodding, eyes on your hands.
“Okay, how’s this..?” You asked softly. Surprisingly softly, in fact. You hadn’t spoken like this in ages.
A stuttered breath left Coat guy as your hands made contact with his arms. His whole body went rigid. The thin line of his pupils on full display with how wide his eyes were. He seemed to be in disbelief.
Your palms grazed the skin of his arms, tracing up with utmost care. He certainly wasn’t lying about being cold. Touching his bare, freckled skin was like touching an ice cube. “’s it… working? Feel warmer?”
“It- It’s working.” He gasped, hands jerking up to grasp at your arms. He must’ve been trying to keep himself composed; His eyes were on yours, expression dumbfounded and slightly desperate. He clearly spoke no lies about his chronic lack of warmth.
“I thought… I’d thought there was n-nothing that could save me.” He mumbled incoherently, eyes wracking over your arms. “You can, you- you can. You can.” It might’ve been a spasm, the way he pulled you erratically closer.
“Can you touch my face?” He asked breathlessly, eyes flicking up to yours. His hands were grasping onto your biceps, nearly kneading at the skin there.
You nodded listlessly, at a loss for words. This was moving extremely fast.
Your head tilted as you lifted your hands, hesitating for a moment before you gently grasped his face. A near whine left him, maybe a hum, his face initially tensing up before relaxing into your hands.
The composure he was fighting so hard to keep was cracking with each place you touched him. Going without a single trace of warmth for so long had left him desperate. He’d forgotten how it’d felt, devoid of touch, devoid of comfort. With it now so readily at his fingertips, he was at a loss for words.
“Tell me what to do,” You murmured, not wanting to speak too loudly and shatter the moment. The expression on Coat guy’s face was akin to euphoria, like he’d finally gotten a taste of what he’d been longing for for so long. You guessed he had.
A few shaky moments passed with him just keeping you there, warming his face. He blew out a cold breath. The air ghosted over your forearms and forced you to stifle a shiver.
When his eyes finally opened, they were glazed over again for different reasons. He looked… wrecked. Even moreso than usual.
You weren’t sure if he’d talk or not, but finally he spoke. “Just… anywhere.”
Again, he spoke like a ghost– like he expected not to be heard. That couldn’t have been more wrong. You heard him loud and clear.
Your hands moved from his cheeks, still not entirely leaving his skin. Soft, gentle touches of yours traced down his cheeks and curved over his jawline, spreading the heat evenly over him. It was like a show, the way he reacted, and with his eyes closed you were free to watch as you pleased– his brow twitching subtly and his lips pressing tightly together.
It took the pads of your fingers ghosting over the column of his neck for you to admit to yourself that you enjoyed this. In a sickly sweet way. Something about the control of it all, how you held his relief at your fingertips. Still, you had to be careful with him. Your palm curved, pressing flatly against the side of his throat, earning a small gasp. The way his body jerked pressed your hips together, eliciting a dull clink when your belt buckles met through the fabric of your shirts.
“Hah..” He gasped, eyes flying open. Beyond the foggy look in his eyes, he looked like he was trying to vaguely assess you– trying to figure out your angle, to see if this meant anything to you.
You got too bold. Before he had time to recover from your previous ministration, you traced your thumb down the center of his throat and slid your other hand back, under his shirt collar.
Something caught in his throat. His palms were suddenly flat on your chest, pushing you away with surprising strength. You stumbled slightly backwards. The tile was cold again on your feet, sending you off kilter.
A brief flash of confusion flashed across his face– from the loss of heat, maybe. Had he even intended to push you? The tight muscles in your face softened, unfounded guilt pooling in your gut. He did seem overwhelmed. His arms were already crossed protectively back over his chest, unintentionally furthering the distance between you two.
There was a beat of silence. Then another. The light above flickered, shadows outlining the delicate curvature of Coat guy’s face and accentuating his already sunken eyebags. He wasn’t looking at you anymore. Even if he were, you doubted he’d be registering anything… he still had that distant look in his eyes. Apparently he preferred the look of floor when he was trying to sort out his thoughts.
Three sharp knocks shattered the quiet, followed quickly with the squeaking of the door hinges. Harsh white light poured into the room with zero respect for your poor, sensitive eyes. You were forced to squint.
The widow stood in the doorway, framed by sunlight, her brow furrowed in quiet suspicion at the sight of the two of you standing in silence pulled taut. Her gaze zeroed in on the shower curtain, most likely noticing it’s status as definitely closed. A quiet, indignant sound left her– as if the view of her late husband’s body being obstructed also obstructed her airway.
She stepped into the room and reached the tub in two strides. The relief on her face was palpable as she revealed her husband once more, letting the light shine on his face. She cast you a vaguely dubious look.
Anxious, you cleared your throat.
“I’ll wait in the.. the other room.” Coat guy’s raspy voice zapped your attention back like a lightning bolt. “Please clean it quickly. My coat, I mean.” You simply nodded to show you understood, your throat dry. “I don’t know what I’ll do without it… the- the cold might consume me.”
Coat guy dipped past you, succinctly ending whatever strange moment the two of you had shared. You didn’t watch him leave– preferring to stare blankly at the bloody coat in the sink– but you could hear his quiet footsteps and the sound of the door closing behind him.