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The damned heating isn't working.
Frank fiddles with the thermostat, shuddering as cold air seeps into the room. He has already called the landlord who promised to deal with the situation as soon as possible, but it was a few hours ago and Frank hasn’t heard from him since. For all he knows, he’s going to freeze to death before the landlord shows up.
He complained, of course. He complained to all his friends about faulty heating and communal services that are never ready for winter (in December! In New Jersey!), and yes, he understands that global warming is making the weather unpredictable, but it doesn’t mean he has to freeze to death because of it. By the end of the first hour Frank is almost sure he complained to everyone he knows, including, first and foremost, his boyfriend. It’s a good thing he did, too: the rage inside him is burning bright enough to keep him warm for a few extra minutes.
But his rage eventually subdues, no matter if he wants it or not, and Frank realises that he can’t stay in the apartment any longer if he wants to survive this winter. At first he wants to call Gerard and ask if he can come over and stay at his place until the heating is fixed, but decides against it — he doesn’t want to be a bother, and Gerard is probably busy right now, and Frank knows how much he hates it when people distract him while he is in the zone. He can go to the nearest café and wait it out. It’s not the best option, mostly because Frank doesn’t know if the landlord is going to show up until the end of the day, but it’s better than freezing to death in his own home.
Frank is almost out of the door, wearing what feels like every jacket and pair of pants he could find in his closet, when the doorbell rings. Frank doesn’t even have the time to process what is happening as he opens the door and discovers Gerard standing in the hallway, with an electric heater by his feet.
“They’re out of heaters, can you fucking believe that?” Gerard complains as he wrestles the heater inside Frank’s apartment. “I almost had to fight someone for the last one. In the middle of fucking winter!”
All Frank can do is stare. Gerard is the last person he’d expect to see in his apartment right now: he is busy finishing up his projects before the end of the year, there is no way he would waste his precious time and risk missing the deadlines just to buy a heater for Frank. And yet Gerard is here, retelling the story of how he had to battle everyone who wanted to take the last heater from him as he drags said heater to the bedroom.
“Are you okay?”
Frank blinks. “What?”
Gerard finally lets go of the heater and puts his hands in his pockets in an attempt to keep himself warm. It’s not going to work, Frank thinks: he is almost certain that it’s colder inside the apartment than outside.
“You look kinda,” Gerard tries to wave his hand in Frank’s direction but it gets caught in his pocket so the gesture turns out closer to an awkward flap, “lost. Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Frank coughs. “Just… I thought you had deadlines.”
Gerard scoffs. “Fuck deadlines, I’m not letting you freeze to death.”
“I wasn’t going to freeze to death.”
Gerard squats next to the heater and plugs it in.
“Yeah, sure,” he mutters. “Frank, I know you, you’d never tell me you wanted to come over, so,” he shrugs, “I decided to come over to you instead.”
Frank shudders as he watches Gerard turn the heater on. It’s going to take some time until the temperature in the room rises enough for him to take off one of the many layers of clothes, and it seems that Gerard isn’t planning on going anywhere anytime soon, and the bed looks so tempting all of a sudden.
Gerard must have noticed the change in his expression because he squints at Frank in a silent warning.
“I know what you’re thinking about,” he says. “You know what’s gonna happen if you fall asleep in this cold, right?”
Frank shrugs.
“We gotta save energy,” he argues. “The heater’s on,” he begins counting on his fingers. “I’m wearing, like, twenty sweaters right now, we have enough blankets, and I’ve got you. I’d say that’s enough to go hibernate until they fix the heating.”
Gerard giggles.
“Okay,” he doesn’t wait for an invitation and instead plops on the bed. “But we’re cuddling.”
Frank smirks. “That’s the whole point.”