Cold Hands, Warm...

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 what he 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?"