Chapter Text
“No fucking way,” Dave whispers to himself.
His breath is visible in the cold air and he shudders as he sits down on his doorstep. It's fucking freezing, threatening to snow and he's forgotten his goddamn keys. Why they had to move so far up north is beyond him. Every minute feels like a year as he pulls his arms around himself, trying to stop his teeth from chattering because that shit looks ridiculous.
He must look stupid, he thinks, as his next door neighbour parks his car and walks up to his front door.
“You're going to freeze,” John says. “Why are you out here?”
“Forgot my keys,” Dave replies with a shrug, like it's no big deal that he's turning into a human popsicle.
“Wanna come with me and keep warm until someone can let you in?” John offers.
Dave shakes his head. He doesn't even know John. He sees him a few times a week and the goof is always smiling, but this is the first time he's ever spoken to him.
“It's fine, they wont be long,” he says.
John laughs and raises his eyebrows.
“Come on, kid, I can't leave you out here.”
Dave sighs and stands up. He's sure he would have regretted staying outside.
“Thanks,” he says.
John's house is weird. There's movie memorabilia everywhere and Dave's sure he sees a bucket balanced on top of one of the doors as John leads him through to the kitchen.
There's a couch in the guy's kitchen. Dave doesn't even know what to think about that.
“You want something to drink?” John asks. “I can make you some cocoa if you need to warm up.
“Uh... have you got any apple juice?” Dave asks.
John nods and walks to the fridge. Dave looks around the room, trying to work out who he's dealing with. There's a movie poster above the sink and a large, old looking book on the table. All it tells Dave is that his neighbour probably has shitty taste in the movies.
“Anything else I can get you?” John asks. “Are you hungry?”
Dave is a little, but he shakes his head. It feels weird enough being in a strangers kitchen, he doesn't need to eat there, too.
John leaves him there, sipping his apple juice whilst he goes upstairs to shower. Dave stays put, not sure if the house is safe to explore after the bucket sighting. John returns in a fresh shirt sometime later. His hair is damp and he seems a little nervous, which is ridiculous. He's twenty-something, he shouldn't be nervous.
“You sure I can't get you something to eat?” he asks. “You look like you could use a meal or two.”
Dave shakes his head but feels his cheeks flush. He's skinny and he knows it; he's been trying to bulk up, waiting for the puberty fairy to wave her magic wand.
The clock on the wall reads five o’clock. Someone should be home soon. John walks back to the fridge and pours Dave another glass of of apple juice without asking. Dave doesn't mind, he can drink apple juice any time.
John obscures his view when he pours the drink, so Dave looks elsewhere. His eyes fall on the open fridge, which is mostly empty aside from a monstrously large chocolate cake. It looks sickly sweet and Dave's stomach growls.
John hands him his glass but doesn't say anything. Dave guesses that the sound didn't carry, that he's safe. Of course, he's wrong.
It takes three sips for him to feel a sudden wave of exhaustion.