Title: warm your limbs with kisses
Author: carleton97
Fandom: Panic! At the Disco/Fall Out Boy
Rating: PG13; language, boytouching
Disclaimer: If you googled yourself, go away.

Note: So, in lieu of NaNo this year, I decided to just write. Every day. Either finishing up old stuff or taking prompts from exitsign. I started today and will go through December 6th, hopefully.

Title from d.h. lawrence



Spencer knew growing up in Vegas gave him a truly skewed idea of what 'cold' was.

January in Chicago was a fucking bitch, though.

He was in his heaviest coat and as many hoodies as he could fit under it and he could still feel the sharp bite of the wind as it eddied around the corners of the buildings and slammed into him when he crossed the street. When he stopped to get his bearings, his breath was a solid wall around him.

He was still two long blocks from Patrick's apartment.

And it just started snowing.

The flakes were huge and wet, swirling in the air and sticking to his eyelashes, making the world glimmer and spark around him. He started walking again, faster now, anxious to get back to Patrick and out of the cold.

Winter totally sucked, man.

He sort of zoned out the rest of the walk, staring at his boots on the sidewalk and the orange shadows thrown out around him by the buzzing street lamps. And then he was there. Home. Patrick's. Whatever. Through the security door with his key and into the elevator for the trip up up up. His key again in the dead bolt and then he was in. Home. Whatever

It was warm - warmer than the lobby of the building or the elevator - and Spencer felt himself start to thaw out a little. He kicked off his shoes and started the laborious process of de-layering. Patrick was on the couch and glanced up from his laptop, smiling a little before saving his work and settling the computer on the table.

Spencer dumped his armload of hoodies on to the chair in the corner and wedged himself behind Patrick on the couch. He pressed his cold face into the curve of Patrick's neck and snaked cold hands under his shirt to hold him in place when he squeaked and tried to roll off the couch.

"You complete bastard!"

Spencer squeezed him a little tighter and nuzzled through Patrick's soft hair to get the cold tip of his nose against warm skin. "Love me, love my icy hands."

He grumbled, but covered Spencer's hands with his and chafed them through the soft cotton of his t-shirt. He shifted a little, settling back against the support of Spencer's body and wiggling until he was comfortable. "Now I'm cold."

Spencer moved his face out of Patrick's hair and pulled one hand out from under his shirt and grabbed the fleecy blanket from the back of the couch and fumbled it over the both of them. Patrick tugged his hand back to the warmth of his soft belly and they both sighed in contentment.

Patrick tipped his head back against his shoulder and Spencer leaned forward, dropping a kiss on the sulky curve of Patrick's mouth.

"I love winter."