Conor rinsed the plates in the sink. Throughout their lunch, Conor couldn't help but realise Ian's faltering gaze on his defined body. He'd chuckle. He placed the plates into the dishwasher and walked out of the kitchen, down the narrow hallway and towards the lounge room.

He plopped down next to Ian on the black couch who shuffled over to the right slightly.

"I couldn't help but realise you were staring at me, Ian," Conor confronted.

Ian noticeably tensed. "I envied your body," he shakily said.

"Oh c'mon Ian. Is that the best lie you have? You could have just said you'd secretly fallen in love with me and was turned on by my very hot body," he teased and flicked his hair back with hand.

Ian turned his head away from Conor and Conor thought he was the cutest boy he'd ever seen. "Oh? Was I right?" Conor pressed and leaned closer to Ian.

"N-No."

"Sure." He dragged them off the topic, not wanting to damage his friendship with the other. "Want to watch a movie?"

Ian, still not willing to face the other replied, "yes."

"Awesome!" Conor jumped up and grabbed the remote from the table in front of them.

He turned the TV on and browsed Netflix for a good movie. He stopped on one. It was a kids animated movie. "Why not this?" he energetically asked.

"It's for kids though," Ian replied.

"Yeah, and? I don't see a problem with it."

"If it makes you happy," Ian muttered.

"Thank you Ian. You're the best," Conor praised and began the movie.

The two watched in silence. Conor was still close to Ian who surprisingly was enjoying the movie quite a lot. Conor loved the expression on Ian's face. It was one of pure interest. He believed he could see the enjoyment glittering in his eyes. It made Conor love the other more then he already did. He had to hold himself back from making a move on Ian and damaging their delicate friendship.

As the end credits rolled onto the screen, Conor still was looking at Ian's beautiful, delicate, ivory skin.

"That was a pretty cool movie," Ian said with obvious enjoyment.

"Yeah, it was pretty cool," Conor replied, still fawning over him.

Ian looked towards Conor who was forced to peel his eyes off Ian. Conor grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. He reached for his phone he'd collected prior to the movie and checked the time. He didn't look at Ian as he said, "It's 6:50. What do you want to do?"

Ian sat in tired. "No idea. We could go to bed now?" He offered with uncertainty.

"It's still early though."

The two sat in more silence for a short amount of time. Conor perked up and said, "I know exactly what we should do."

Ian looked up at Conor with his dark eyes. "What is it?"

"We should hang out-" Conor was cut off by an unexpected light flicker. He looked at Ian. "Probably just the light bulbs need to be changed."

The lights chose the worst moment to give out. Conor shivered in the corner of the couch. He looked through the darkness desperately, trying to locate Ian. He couldn't hear or see him.

"Ian?" Conor muttered. "W-Where are you?"

"I'm right here, Conor," the soft and warm voice replied from Conor's right.

The sound of large amounts of snow sliping from the tiled roof made Conor shiver again. "Ian?"

No response. Conor grabbed an itchy pillow from nearby and hugged it close to his chest. He rocked himself back and forth. "it's going to be alright," he repeated to himself.

"Conor!" Ian shouted. "Where are the candles?"

Conor didn't reply. He barely heard Ian over his worries. He took in a shaky breath, the air filling his lungs quickly for the bodily process to begin. A hand rested on Conor's shoulder. Ian squeezed his shoulder in assurance. Conor's breath wavered. Ian's touch was hard but gentle. Soothing but could definitely cause damage to the wrong people.

"I'll get my phone, alright, and we can use that as a torch," Ian said calmly.

"I have mine on me," Conor replied and pulled out the device from his pocket.

"Awesome," Ian said.

Conor turned the device on and swiped to the control centre where he turned the torch on. The room illuminated with unfairly spread light. The glass coffee table reflected the light in its pristine surface. He could see the couch and everything else in the room once again. The cream walls looked a light grey shade. Conor sighed in relief. He'd always hated the dark. Nothing could change that.

"Are you alright, Conor?" Ian asked carefully.

He spun his head around and smiled. "Of course. The more important question is, are you alright?"

Ian stared at the other, dumb-founded. "You were the one who started freaking out over the darkness."

"Wait, if the power is out, does that mean that the heating is off as well?" Ian said.

"Oh yeah. Welp, I guess we'll just freeze to death," Conor said with a smile.

"Hey! It's not funny!" Ian said in embarrassment.

"If you say so," Conor said and gave a light laugh.

"We should go to bed now," Ian offered.

Conor nodded and the two walked into Conor's bedroom. He handed Ian a pair of pyjamas and shooed him out into the bathroom directly down the hall. They switched places and got changed and ready for bed.

*

Conor woke up to Ian shaking him. He groaned and turned around in bed. "Let me sleep," his drunken voice slurred. He pulled the covers further over himself.

"The power is back on," Ian said happily.

"Why'd you need to wake me up so early for that though?" Conor groaned.

"It's nine in the morning."

Conor abruptly sat up in bed and opened his eyes. The light shone brightly on Conor's skin as he stared at the other boy. His long black hair was mangled together.

"You should've told me sooner. We need to work out," Conor said energetically but fiercely.

Conor threw a pair of trackpants at the other and ordered him to change. Conor pulled on a pair of black exercise shorts, grabbed a hand towel and tied his hair back into a man bun. His sharp features were even more drawn out than usual. Conor bolted out of his room and to the living room. He pulled out his blue yoga mat and his mum's grey one. He laid them on the cream carpet. Ian walked in not long after. His lack of clothing showed his well-built body. His muscles were curved and well-defined. More defined than Conor's but he still couldn't help stare at the other in awe.

Ian gulped and nervously played with his fingers. It was strange how his personality could change in a sudden heartbeat. Ian bent his head down to discard Conor's gaze. Conor shook his head and sat down on the blue yoga mat. He stretched out his legs and leaned forward. Ian followed. It went like this for another hour. Conor would begin an exercise and Ian would follow with no hesitation. Sweat dripped down their toned bodies, the crevices of their muscles holding slight remanence of sweat. Music played loudly in the background to accompany their workout. Ian looked to be in his own world. Conor could only guess what he was thinking about. Maybe about how fabulous I am, he sarcastically thought.

By the time they'd finish their workout, they'd collapsed onto the floor, heaving heavily with uncontrolled breaths. Conor's throat was dry and in need of relief. He sat up on shaky forearms and looked down at a closed eyed, brown haired boy. Too tired to mouth what he wanted, Ian slightly nodded. Conor struggled to stand and walked to the kitchen. He grabbed two fresh cups out of their holding cell and filled them with water. He drank his like his life depended on it and brought the other cup to the smaller male. Like Conor, Ian drank it quickly.

"We should check the fridge," Ian said after he caught his breath.

Conor exchanged his peaceful expression for a confused one. "Why?"

"Because, there was a blackout last night. Things will surely be out and in need of chucking away."

Conor nodded his head and outstretched his hand. Ian grabbed it and with Conor's help, got himself off the floor. They walked with stiff legs to the kitchen and pulled the fridge door open. They rummaged through everything, throwing away all the off products when Conor saw the red cheese. He pulled it out with crossed fingers and smelt it. It was off. Tears formed in the corners of Conor's eyes as he silently cried to himself.

"My life is ruined," he whined out.

"You can always get more once the storm passes," Ian reminded.

"But how am I meant to enjoy lunch? Without my red cheese I'm nothing. I have no reason for living anymore," he whined.

Ian sighed and roughly pulled the red cheese out of the others hands. He began to get even more emotional. "Ian, no. Give that back."

"If you stop whining, we can do a fashion show," Ian said, knowing how to deal with the other in these situations.

"Really?" Conor perked up with a large smile on his face. "I can show off my amazing good looks."

"Yeah," Ian mumbled.

They finished clearing out the fridge quickly and headed out of the kitchen and down the opposite side of the hallway. He pushed the door open to reveal a white cream room with a white sheeted bed and family photos everywhere with the occasional one of a couple. Conor bolted to the wardrobe and peeled the doors open.

"Shouldn't we have a shower first?" Ian said.

"Nah, we'll be fine," Conor replied with a large smile.

"Are you sure?" Ian was hesitant.

"Oh my gosh. Are you seriously doubting me right now? I am deeply offended. I can't look at your face anymore," Conor said theatrically.

"That's not what I – whatever. Let's just get this over and done with," he mumbled.

Conor smiled and scanned through the variety of clothes. From t-shirts to fancy dresses. He pulled out a floral dress and a black short sleeve dress. He told the other to leave while he changed into the floral one.

"Ian, come back in!" He shouted.

Ian slowly opened the door to see Conor, making weird model poses, trying to show off his amazing good looks. His hair was out and waved behind him in gentle locks. Ian held back a laugh.

"Hey, don't laugh at me. I look f-a-b-u-l-o-u-s, fabulous." Conor said and pouted (fish mouth kind of thing) his lips.

"Can I have a shower now? I feel sticky and gross," Ian said.

Conor looked him up and down. "You look fine to me."

"But-"

"No buts. You're going to watch me be fabulous," he ordered.

Ian recoiled into his skin. "I guess..."

"You have no choice anyway," Conor said.

Ian ran his hand through his hair. Conor gulped. An idea popped into his head, "let's do a fashion show with my clothes!"

Conor didn't wait for a response and bolted out of the room and towards his own. Ian jogged behind him. The dress was nearly immediately ripped off his body, leaving him in black boxers. Conor glanced at a frozen Ian, his face showing his embarrassment.

"Someone can't take their eyes off me," Conor flirted.

"S-Shut up," he mumbled and turned around, his bare back facing the other.

Conor pulled out black denim pants, white shirt, black and red flannel shirt. He called the other into the room and flashed his outfit.

"Not bad," Ian said.

"Not bad? I look stunning," he over-exaggerated.

"If that's what you want."

"Hey, don't be rude."

"Whatever," Ian brushed him off.

At that, Ian's phone rang. He left the room and closed the door behind him. Conor let the biggest, goofiest grin take over his mouth. He couldn't help but smile at how cute Ian was. Too cute for anyone to handle. He's so cute and kind and generous. I can't. He's too adorable for me to handle, he thought to himself. The door swung open and in walked the other teen with his large jumper on, the same one from the other day. Ian walked passed Conor and to the window that hung over his bed. He rested his hand against the glass. Conor walked over.

"What are you doing?" Conor asked.

"Dad said he isn't going to be home for at least another week," Ian admitted after some time.

The room fell into a deaf silence. Snow sheets sliding off the roof punctured the silence. Ian kept his hand against the glass with his head down. Conor, knowing what to do, acted.

"You should participate in the fashion parade."

Ian looked back at Conor, sadness evident. "I don't want to..."

"Oh c'mon. It'll be fun," Conor whined.

"No, I'd rather not. Knock your chalk off," Ian said.

"Hey that's my saying," Conor huffed.

"And I'm not doing the fashion show thing," he replied and looked at the other.

"You're doing it whether you like it or not," Conor said energetically.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

Conor walked away from Ian and towards his wardrobe. He pulled out the smallest shirt and tracksuit pants he owned and pushed them into Ian's chest. He stared up at Conor with pleading eyes.

"Nope. You're doing it." Conor grinned proudly.

Ian groaned and stood up. "Don't blame me for all your washing."

Conor walked out of the room to leave Ian alone. A few minutes passed before Ian entered again.