Fucking Benny. Asshole, shutting off the heat in below zero temperatures. Motherfucker, Roger's inner monologue raged. It was one of the coldest nights of the year, literally shattering New York's long standing record of coldest temperature, and their apartment heat was shut off.

Lovely.

The hypothermic air was seeping through the walls and floorboards, stinging Rogers eyes and making his breath appear in clouds.

An itchy, old winter hat was latched onto his head, accompanied by a hood attached to a worn out black hoodie that displayed a band Roger was fond of. His legs were clad in the thickest joggers he owned, and his feet nuzzled into two layers of matted fuzzy socks.

I'll never complain about summer ever again, he vowed, yanking his six blankets up to his chin. Shit, it was cold.

Melodies were humming through his head, a coping mechanism in an effort to trick his body into sleeping, when-

Reekreek...eeeeek.

His ears picked up the familiar high pitch squeal of his bedroom door opening.

What sounded like a pair of quiet, hesitant footsteps padded into the room, joined by the unmistakable sound of chattering teeth that rang out in a constant sweep.

Roger raised his head a fraction to see a small figure rumaging through his closet.

Under normal circumstances, Roger would take down any intruder that dared to step foot in his house, but one look at person by his closet distinguished all plans of attack, as he'd recognize that silhouette anywhere.

"M-Mark?" Roger croaked, his voice shaking along with the rest of his body. He poked his head fully out of his cocoon of blankets to see his bestfriend. "What're you doi-ing?"

Mark turned to face Roger, arms hugging himself, and despite the distance between them, Roger could see him trembling.

"D-Didn't me-mean t-to wake y-yo-ou," he stammered out sheepishly. Mark sniffled softly, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

Roger pulled his hat over his ears. "You need something?"

"O-On-nly h-have...t-two bl-lanket-ts," he hugged his middle tighter, teeth chattering uncontrollably. "S-So-o c-co-old."

Roger, bundled beneath six blankets, a hoodie, a winter hat, multiple pairs of socks and thick pants, took in Mark's appearance of a threadbare long sleeve shirt, thin joggers, and socks that were littered with holes.

Oh, absolutely not. There was no way Roger was going to send his friend back to his cold bed with only two fucking blankets and socks with holes. Besides, Mark was tiny. How the hell was anything his size supposed to thermoregulate?

Roger sat up, holding back a shiver. "H-Hey," he softened his voice, "Come here."

Mark, still shaking like a leaf, shuffled over to the bed. "D-Do you h-ha-ave a-an extra bl-"

"C-Christ, Mark," Roger grabbed Mark's stone cold arms, pulling him onto the bed. "Don't b-be ridiculous." He pulled the blankets up and scooted over. "G-Get in here."

Not needing to be told twice, Mark slid underneath the comforters. Roger draped his arm over his back, and-

Warm, warmwarm-

Mark whimpered, curling into Roger, his body instantly overcome by warmth.

"Holy shit," Roger yelped, "You're freezing."

He dragged his hands across Mark's body, rubbing his shoulders and back while Mark's teeth chattered away.

"It's okay," Roger whispered, ripping off his ratty winter hat and tugging it over Mark's fluffy hair. "Gonna warm you up." Mark whimpered in response, his blue lips trembling in the pale moon light.

He pushed himself closer to Roger, his body craving more heat. Mark moved closer and closer until their chests were pressed together and their legs became tangled.

Mark let out a small sigh of contentment, nestling his head into the crook of Roger's neck. "Y-You'r-re..s-so warm."

Roger didn't feel warm, not with a Mark sized icicle hugging him in a death-grip. Especially not with Mark's fucking frozen nose finding itself a home in the dip of his collarbone. But, he forced the instinct to recoil aside and snaked his arms around the smaller's back, returning Mark's hug.

Roger gently tucked his chin on top of Mark's head and breathed in the comforting scent of shampoo. The two boys rested together, soaking up each other's body heat.

"'M s-sorry I woke you," Mark mumbled after a few minutes.

Roger frowned at the slight shake in Mark's knees as he shifted, tucking one of Mark's legs in between his own. "Wasn't sleeping anyway. Are you still cold?"

"'S better now." Mark breathed, his voice high pitched and coated in sleepiness. "Thanks, Roger."

"Anytime," Roger murmured, resting his chin on the top of Mark's head.

Mark drew a slow, deep breath and savored the comfort of Roger's arms around him. He closed his eyes, the warmth of being tucked away safely in Roger's chest finally nudging him to sleep.