Title: Warming Up
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Mark/Roger
Summary: post Rent Mark had to go out in a blizzard to get Roger's AZT, so he is really cold. Roger wants to help warm him up. Mark's POV.
Disclaimer: No, I still don't own Rent, you should know that by now.

I was curled up in the floor of the loft shivering. My old sweater had worn thin and was no longer sufficient in keeping me warm. Even though I had been back for twenty minutes, my scarf still hung around my neck. It was snowing pretty badly. I had walked an hour into the city and back for Roger's AZT. He always forgot to tell me when he needed more. I almost felt like telling him to wait it out, but the look of fear in his eyes as he held up the nearly empty bottle got me. I could do little more than succumb to the blazing green.

I looked up at him, still shivering. My glasses were about to clatter down my nose. Roger was sitting on the windowsill, wrapped in a blanket. He was watching the snow. He had always loved the snow, but was too afraid to go outside in the cold anymore. He was so paranoid about catching pneumonia. That's what happened to Mimi last winter. She was already weak, so it only took two weeks to break her down. He's been coping well, not nearly as depressed as he was when April died.

He turned toward me, giving me a funny look. I guess he heard my teeth chattering.

"Cold, Marky?" he asked.

"Just – just a – little," I managed.

He got up and came over. He removed his blanket from his shoulders and draped it around mine. It was one his mother had crocheted for him when he first moved to the city. He was very attached to it. "Why you so cold?"

"I walked to get your AZT," I pointed to a bottle on the table.

"In the snow?" he looked surprised. "I was expecting you to tell me to fuck off and wait if out."

"I didn't want you to get sick," I said.

"I'm already sick," he replied. "Thanks, Mark. I – I appreciate it."

"Anytime."

"Now let's get you warmed up," he reached for my hands to rub them together. His were warm. It was like fire meeting ice. "Ah," he retracted his hands immediately.

"They're cold," I said.

"I noticed." He sat in thought for a minute. "I have an idea." He wrapped his arms around me, trying to transfer his body heat. It was like an awkward hug. It wasn't working either.

"Roger, this is weird," I said at last.

He pulled away and started thinking again. "Idea!" He seemed excited about this one. He walked toward the stove and put on a pot of water. I watched him go into his room, returning with all of his blankets. He went into my room with them. I heard drawers being opened and closed. I couldn't imagine the havoc that must be going on in there. He emerged, grinning. "C'mere, Mark."

I could barely move since I was so cold. He must've realized this because he walked over to me. He pulled me up and half carried me into my room.

Every blanket and sweater in the house, minus the one draped over me, was piled on my bed. He plopped me down and removed the blanket and scarf.

"Clothes off."

"What!"

"You're soaking wet," he replied. "You need dry clothes."

I tentatively peeled off my wet sweater and socks. Apparently, I wasn't moving fast enough for Roger as he began removing my pants. "Roger!"

"Do you want to get hypothermia?" he looked up at me. I was silent. "That's what I thought." He stood up and turned around to face the wall. "Now change your underwear, I won't look."

I stood up and walked to my dresser, still shivering. It was awkward for the brief moment I was naked, but for some reason I trusted Roger. I didn't understand why he was being so nice. Usually our positions were switched. I would scurry around trying to help him and he'd sit there whining loudly.

The warm boxers felt nice, but the rest of me was wet and cold. "Ready."

He turned around and grabbed a towel. I was shocked that he didn't my scrawny figure and compare it to his strong, muscular build. His calloused hands led the towel around my body without the slightest bit of awkwardness. Like he'd done this before. I didn't feel uncomfortable either, even though I was standing half naked in front of my friend.

"Any warmer?" he asked, handing me a sweater.

I pulled it over my head. "A little better, thanks." I took the pajama pants he was holding and put them on too. He continued handing me layers of clothes.

Roger raised his hands to touch my face. "Your cheeks are like ice." His fingers drifted to my lips, probably blue with the cold. His fingers gently stroked my face. The warm was nice, but I couldn't help but flinch uncomfortably.

"Your lips are almost as blue as your eyes."

"That can't be good."

"If you stop shivering, I know a way to warm them up."

"How?"

"Like this." His hands didn't leave my cheeks. His face neared mine and our lips touched. The warmth from his lips spread to mine. It actually felt nice. But I was too afraid to do anything, so I just stood there and let him kiss me. He's just doing this to warm you up, no need to get excited, I told myself. I could feel him start to pull out. My muscles started relaxing. Before he let go, he gently bit my lower lip, as if he was claiming me. Maybe not.

"That –that helped," I stammered.

He reddened. "You should get in bed." He pulled back my covers and gestured for me to come over. He helped me into the middle of the bed, piling blankets on top of me. He took my glasses off and left.

Did I react wrong? I closed my eyes. Maybe I could get some sleep.

"Marky! Wake up! I made you tea!"

Well, that was short-lived. Roger placed a mug on the table. He sat beside me and helped me to sit up. "Drink this." Roger thrust the mug to my face.

I raised my still freezing hands and took the mug from his grasp. I raised it to my lips and took a sip. Whoa. "How much sugar did you put in this?"

He shrugged. "I didn't feel like looking for a spoon, so I just dumped some in at random."

I smiled. "It's good."

He smiled back. I think he knew he was doing good. He looked proud of himself. I downed the tea and handed Roger the empty mug.

"You know how our heating system sucks and you have all the blankets?"

"Yeah."

"I'm definitely not leaving this room."

"That's fine," I slid back down into a laying position.

Roger crawled under the covers and cuddled up against me. In the cold of the apartment and from dealing me, I don't know how he managed to stay so warm. His arm was draped across my stomach and his head rested on my chest, slowly rising and falling with my breathing.

"You stopped shaking, Mark," he looked up at me.

"How come you're doing this for me?" I asked as my hand found his.

"Because you'd do the same for me," he replied. "And what would I do without my Marky?"

"Why are you so warm? Our heat is shit."

"I'm so full of love, warmth, and fluffy shit like that," Roger grinned.

I laughed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he propped his chin on my chest.

"Did—did that kiss mean anything?" my voice cracked on the last word. "Does this mean anything?"

He pulled himself up, more on top of me than next to me. "Do you want it to mean anything?"

I so badly wanted to say yes, but a little voice inside me was telling me that Roger was kidding. He was just being nice to me. But he didn't really give me the time to reply. His lips were against mine and his hand was running up my arm. I wasn't stupid this time. I kissed him back, our tongues meeting for the first time. God damn, even his tongue was warm. He really was full of love, warmth, and fluffy shit.

"I guess it does," I said as the kiss broke.

"Mmhmm," he hugged me closer. "Go to sleep, Marky. Warm up."

I did as I was told, cuddling as close to Roger as I could. As we laid in each others arms, not only could I feel my body getting warmer, but my heart was warming up too.

Fin