Cold Hands, Warm...

  Phaze 6470A Glenway Avenue, #109 Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  eBook ISBN 1-59426-572-0

  Cold Hands, Warm...© 2006 by Jade Falconer

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Cover art © 2006 by Trace Edward Zaber

  Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC.

  www.Phaze.com

  Billy was definitely rethinking his decision to attend college in the northeast. Originally from southern California, he wasn't used to the blistering cold of a midwinter blizzard. Bundled up, with only his eyes showing between scarves and knit caps and hoods, he shuffled quickly towards his dormitory. It was Friday afternoon, the beginning of a long weekend, but all he could think about was getting inside.

  A number of his dorm mates chuckled at him as he finally made it through the door. Obviously more accustomed to the cold, they teased Billy about how bad it was going to get later that evening. But then, Billy didn't have anywhere to be, and he didn't have to go outside. He had his hotplate and tiny microwave, plenty of popcorn, and powdered hot cocoa. He was set.

  People were leaving for the weekend. Monday was a holiday and there was a teacher's conference day on Tuesday, so there were no classes until Wednesday. Even some of the other out-of-staters were heading out to enjoy four days in a row away from school, or five if they could get away with cutting Wednesday. Billy wished he could go home, but he'd just been home for Christmas, and his mother didn't have the money for another plane ticket. So, he was stuck with his somewhat elusive roommate, Paul.

  Billy rarely saw Paul. They had conflicting class schedules, and Paul had a job off-campus. He usually came in late and left early. Of course, those were normally excellent traits in a roommate, but Billy couldn't help but be disappointed. It was his first year away at school, his first time away from home, and he was desperately lonely. It didn't help matters that Paul was gorgeous and slender, with expressive hazel eyes and reddish-brown hair. Every glimpse Billy got of him only fueled his fantasies about what would happen if they were ever stuck together in their room for an extended period of time.

  Billy sighed as he started the lengthy process of unraveling layers of wool from around his body. He hung up his scarf, hat, and coat and put his gloves on the shelf. He took his long, black hair out of its bun and shook it out, letting it fall in waves over his shoulders. His hair was a pain in the ass, but it was really his only vanity. That, and a little eyeliner.

  He dragged his backpack over to the bed and flopped down on his mattress. He decided to get some homework out of the way, then maybe treat himself to pizza delivery. Make someone else go out in the snow so he wouldn't have to. * * * * The door always stuck when it was damp outside, and Paul had to give it a good shove with his hip before it gave. That meant he was off balance when it opened abruptly, and he stumbled in, almost falling on top of Billy, whose bed was near the door. "Sorry," he mumbled, blushing. "Fingers frozen." He'd forgotten his gloves in his rush this morning.

  Billy made him feel like a huge dork. His roommate always seemed so poised and together, and he was always clumsy around him. Billy seemed to have a natural sense of style, always looking put-together. Even now, in the middle of a blizzard, Billy’s clothes matched and looked clean. Paul was lucky to find clothes that didn’t smell bad. They were usually wrinkled no matter whathe did.

  Billy looked up at him, wide-eyed. "Oh...It's all right," he said breathily. "You should really wear gloves." He nibbled on his bottom lip for a moment, then looked down at his textbook, open on the bed before him. He expected Paul to leave again in a little while, anyway. "Are you leaving for the long weekend?" he asked, not looking up.

  Paul walked across the room, dropping his books on his bed. He wiggled his fingers, trying to warm them. "No. Parents are out of town, and I was gonna work," he explained, looking out the window. "But my boss just texted me and told me he's shutting down the store for the weekend." He sighed and peeled off his snow-covered jacket. "You're not leaving either?"

  Billy looked up at him. "Um, no. I don't have the money for a plane ticket to California, and where else would I go?" He shrugged his shoulders and lowered his eyes again. It looked like they were there together, for the weekend. He couldn't help but feel happy about that. "I was...um...I was gonna order pizza. Do you wanna share one?" he asked.

  Paul smiled. He still felt a little shy around Billy because they hadn't really spent much time together, but he'd instantly liked him. He tried not to think too much about why. "Sure!" he said enthusiastically. "As long as you don't want something weird like anchovies on it," he added, kicking off his shoes.

  "Ew, no. Who eats anchovies?" Billy wrinkled his nose and grinned at Paul. "I guess I should call now. They say the storm is just gonna get worse. I think most everyone in the dorms already left." He sat up and pulled out his cell phone, dialed the local pizza place, and ordered a large cheese pizza. They didn't seem too happy about delivering it, but they promised to be there within half an hour.

  "Good, I'm starving," Paul said, patting his flat belly. "I think I forgot to eat today." He grinned at Billy. "Hey, I hope we don't lose power. That would suck." He wasn't too concerned, though. He felt exceptionally good-natured about the storm now that he was out of it and didn't have to leave again.

  "I didn't eat anything, either. I overslept a little for my sociology test, so I didn't have time." He shifted to sit cross-legged on his bed. "I don't think we've ever spent an evening together in the four months we've been here."

  Paul sat across from him, unconsciously mirroring his position. "No, I don't think we have," he agreed. He pushed his long bangs out of his eyes. "So what do you usually do for fun?"

  Billy felt a little self conscious to suddenly be the object of Paul's full attention. The small talk was a little awkward, but he hoped he could learn more about Paul this way. "Oh," he said softly. "Um, I study mostly lately. I like to go out dancing sometimes. I like movies and music and reading. Not really...um...athletic. Although I used to skateboard when I was a kid." He felt like he was babbling and promptly shut up.

  Paul brightened. "Oh man, I miss skating," he said with feeling. "I bet I'd kill myself if I tried anything right now." He snickered. "Were you any good?"

  Billy's eyes lit up. "No," he said, laughing. "I guess I wasn't that bad. But I wasn't good. Were you?" he asked.

  Paul smiled a little shyly. "I wasn't bad," he admitted. "It was about the only thing there was to do in my little town."

  They chatted for a little while about mutual interests until the pizza arrived. Billy went to the main dorm door in his coat when the delivery guy called his cell phone, and slipped back into the room, holding the large flat box. "Mm, it's really warm," he said as he cleared a space on his small desk .

  "Smells great," Paul said, breathing it in. He went to the small fridge. "You want a Coke?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.

  "Sure," Billy said amiably as he took a slice and a paper napkin, and sat on the edge of his narrow bed. He glanced out the window, but all he could see was white. "Maybe we should see if there's anything on the news about the storm,” he suggested as he accepted the cold can of soda from Paul.

  "Good idea," he nodded, and got up to turn on the s
mall TV. He flipped through the channels until he found the news. "Can you see from over there?" he asked.

  "Um...not really." He got up and perched on the edge of Paul's mattress. The television glowed softly in the fading light.

  "...all residents are advised to stay inside, stay off the roads tonight," the anchor reported . "Many parts of the county are reporting record snowfalls of eight and nine inches already on the ground, and an additional six inches is expected before morning..."

  "I guess we're definitely stuck here," Billy said, taking a bite of pizza.

  Paul nodded. "Good thing we got this pizza when we did," he said thoughtfully, chewing. He looked over at Billy and blushed a little when he realized Billy was so close. On his bed. He wasn't quite sure why it made him feel so warm. "You wanna watch a movie?" he asked softly.

  Billy smiled at Paul. He realized that it was probably just as well that his roommate was never around. He could have a extremely pathetic crush on him so very easily. "Sure. My mom just sent me some Netflix bootlegs." He got up and rummaged through his desk drawer. "I have Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe, Kung Fu Hustle, and The Ring," he suggested.

  "I've never actually seen The Ring," Paul said. "I love scary movies." They'd been living together for months but he didn't really know him. He wanted to, though. He was the perfect roommate. He was neat and quiet and smelled good, even. Paul realized that was an odd thing to think, but he couldn’t help it. It was true.

  "Me, too." Billy popped the DVD in and took another piece of pizza. He sat near the head of the bed, beside Paul, and kicked off his sneakers so he could put his feet up. "This movie is super scary. It's one of my favorites," he said softly. He reached for the remote control and handed it to Paul, brushing shoulder to shoulder against him for a moment. He couldn’t help but glance at Paul afterwards, wondering if he minded the contact. He didn’t seem to notice.

  "I've heard so much about it," Paul said. He suddenly realized how alone they were, and how close. He was sure that most, if not all, of the people who lived on the floor were gone. He felt so isolated, but that didn't bother him. Billy being so close, though...that bothered him in a different way. He just couldn't define it. "I can't wait."

  The movie began and right from the start it was scary. Even though he'd seen it, Billy still gasped and tensed up. He pulled his knees up to his chest, watching the screen avidly. When the action died down a little, he pulled the sleeves of his hoodie down over his knuckles. "Is it cold in here?" he asked softly.

  Paul had been so caught up in the movie that he hadn't noticed. He paused the movie and considered. "Maybe a little," he agreed. "It must be really cold outside." He got up and pulled out a big quilt from the closet. "Here, you can use this if you're cold," he offered, bringing it back to the bed and unfolding it. He spread it across the bed and sat back down. "Now that you mention it, it is a little chilly." They had no control over the temperature in the rooms. It was an old building, and controlled in the basement.

  Billy wriggled under the quilt, pulling it up to his shoulders. "Thanks, Paul," he said, smiling. As the movie was started up again, Billy leaned a little closer to him. "If you're cold you can get under the blanket, too, you know," he said, just above a whisper.

  Paul blushed a little. What was he embarrassed about? There was no one around but the two of them. No one to see. "Okay," he said faintly. He was cold, after all. He pulled the cover over him, and sighed happily. It was much better. Except now Billy's warm firm thigh was pressed against his.

  Billy was feeling more than content. Paul was even sweeter than he'd thought he was. He wished he knew if Paul liked guys at all. He let out a quiet sigh, and tucked a long strand of jet black hair behind his ear.

  As scary as the movie was, Paul was having difficulty concentrating on it. It wasn't the cold; it was the fact that he was too warm. Not unpleasantly so, but Billy was very close, and that proximity was doing things to his body that he wasn't sure he should accept right now. The man next to him smelled good, and felt better, and Paul had an uncontrollable urge to put his arm around him.

  At a particularly scary part, Billy choked back a squeal and grabbed Paul's arm, turning his face into the other boy's shoulder. "Tell me when it's over," he whispered.

  Paul whimpered a little at the abrupt contact. Billy's hot breath was right on his neck, which was very sensitive. Billy's soft hands gripped his bicep, and God help him, it felt good. He felt a suspicious tightening in his lower belly that usually signaled arousal, and he gasped softly. "It...it's over. Sort of," he said.

  Billy looked up at the screen hesitantly, but didn't immediately pull away. "I hate that part," he whispered, still clinging to Paul, although he loosened his grip on his arm a little. "Sorry," he whispered, leaning back a little. Paul was warm and his presence was comforting.

  "It's fine," Paul murmured. In fact, it was more than fine, if a little frightening. "You...you can do that any time you want." He wasn't really thinking coherently. He swallowed hard, still looking at Billy. The room was most definitely getting colder.

  Billy's eyes met Paul's and he swallowed hard. He unconsciously licked his lips. "Thanks," he whispered. "Anyway, it's warmer this way." He rested his head on Paul's shoulder, readjusting the quilt. "Is this okay?" he asked.

  Paul suppressed a moan, and he felt his arousal increase. He just hoped Billy didn't feel it. It wasn't possible that he was actually hard because a boy was pressed against him, was it? He was confused. "Yes," he whispered, eyes a little too wide. Surely Billy was just being friendly, and meant nothing by this.

  Billy was a little confused, too. He would never treat another guy like this, normally, unless he knew for sure that he liked guys. But Paul didn't seem to mind. Other guys would. He started to feel a little hopeful about it. Besides, it was legitimately freezing in their room. "It's not...too weird?" he ventured hesitantly.

  "I don't think it's weird at all," Paul said. "I mean, it's just the two of us, right? If we're okay with it..." Paul trailed off, lost in Billy's gaze. He'd never been this close to another guy. Billy was so pretty, though, that he didn't seem like a regular guy.

  Billy nodded a little. "It doesn't bother me, obviously." Quite the contrary. Billy couldn't think of anywhere he would rather be at the moment, even sunny California.

  "Doesn't bother me," Paul whispered. "It's nice...and warm." He just hoped he didn't have to get up, because the problem currently aching inside his boxers would be obvious then.

  Billy nibbled on his full lower lip. "Can I ask you a personal question, Paul?" He was feeling a little light-headed, considering how close they were. His body was starting to take notice, despite the room temperature.

  Paul's heart started pounding. Well, you couldn't get much more personal than being cuddled up under a blanket, all alone, could you? "Ssure," he stammered, mouth going dry.

  Billy wasn't sure how to phrase it. "Um...do you...have a girlfriend?" he stuttered. If Paul was gay it would be the perfect opportunity to come out with it.

  Paul blinked. That was the last thing he expected. "Um. No," he said. Then, because it seemed like the thing to do, he asked, "Do you?"

  Billy sighed a little. He couldn't very well just blurt out that he was gay while he was practically pressed up against his roommate, who was essentially stranded in their room with him. "No. I was just...wondering." He laid his head back down on Paul's shoulder and watched the movie.

  Paul was still confused, and aroused, and he wondered why Billy had asked him that. To be honest, now that he thought about it, he would have been very surprised if Billy had said he had a girlfriend. He decided he couldn't really say anything without seeming to pry, though, so he stayed quiet.

  As the movie reached a crescendo of scariness, Billy found himself hiding his eyes in the crook of Paul's neck more often than not. "I swear I watched this the first time," he said softly. "That's why I know what parts I'm scared of." He laughed a little at himself, and without really meaning to, he n
uzzled Paul, breathing in the fresh scent of shampoo and warm boy skin.

  Paul just barely held back a moan; Billy was very nearly kissing his neck, and his body liked it far too much. He was rock hard now, and he didn't want Billy to stop. He wondered if he could climax just from this, and if so, if Billy would notice. His arm had slipped around Billy, just because of the position they were in.

  By the time the credits were rolling, Billy's hand had made its way partially around Paul's waist. His heart was beating fast and he decided to take a chance. "Can I ask you another question?" he whispered.

  Paul had relaxed somewhat but his arousal hadn't lessened. Now he was anxious again, but he said, "Sure."

  Billy raised his head to look into Paul's eyes again. This was it. If Paul was freaked out by this question they would be spending a very uncomfortable weekend together. "Do you...have a boyfriend?" he asked softly.

  Part of him had been expecting it, so it wasn't a total shock. Still, he didn't know what to say. Or rather, how to say it. In the end, he went with a mirror of his previous response. "No," he whispered. "Do you?" The implications of Billy's question were trying to sink in.

  Billy took a measured breath, then said carefully, "Not anymore." His mouth felt dry suddenly, and he was sure his heart was going to burst from pounding so hard. He waited for Paul's response, afraid to advance or retreat in anyway.

  Well, there it was. The confirmation. And truth be told, Paul had known it all along, just had pushed it out of his mind. It was all he could do to hold still. Not that he felt uncomfortable; it was that he didn't want to make Billy think he was upset or freaked. They were pressed against each other tightly. "I'm sorry," was all he could think to say.

  Billy pouted a little. Then it occurred to him what Paul meant. "Oh. Sorry I don't have a boyfriend anymore? It was a couple of years ago. I'm over it." His tongue nervously wet his lips. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asked.

  "No," Paul said immediately. Well, he was uncomfortable, but not in the way Billy was probably thinking. "I'm very comfortable. And warm," he breathed, looking into Billy's eyes. His body wanted something, now that he knew for sure, but Paul reminded himself that just because Billy was gay, didn't mean he was attracted to him.