Neighbours with Panic! at the Disco.

Dallon:

"Ah, shit," Dallon grumbled as the unwelcoming whirr of all his electrical appliances shutting down sounded throughout his apartment, and the entire place was plunged into darkness.

Cautiously setting down the mug of tea he had just made, he whipped out his phone and turned on the flashlight, then made his way to the front door; he opened it and peered outside, turning his head left and right to survey the area. He noticed that there were no other lights on and deduced that the power must have gone out in the entire building. Or the entire third floor, at least.

Slumping his shoulders, he kicked the bottom of his front door as he turned and headed back inside. A quick inspection of the downstairs balconies through his window told him that it was indeed only his floor that was experiencing the electrical deficit.

Clicking his tongue in aggravation, he proceeded to retrieve some candles, lighting them so that at least the rest of the apartment wouldn't be in complete darkness. In all honesty, he wasn't too perturbed about not having light; it was the fact that there was no electricity to power his heater that was the problem. Tonight was one of the coldest nights of the year, and he knew that there was no way he would make it through without the warmth emitted by the heater. But there wasn't anything he could do about it at present; he would just have to tough it out and surround himself with a ton of blankets.

Dallon gathered all the blankets he owned – a measly three – and cocooned himself in bed, his laptop playing episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. It was alright at first – the cold was bearable. But after about an hour and a half, the temperature started to decline, and he found himself shivering uncontrollably.

He tried his hardest to deal, but after another few minutes, he gave up. Unwrapping himself, he hopped out of bed and headed for the front door. Making sure to grab his keys, he exited his apartment and started his way up to the fourth floor, to yours.

~

You paused the episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine you were watching and walked over to the door, opening it to reveal a nearly frostbitten Dallon, who was wearing a lopsided grin.

"Dall, what happened?" you asked, face and voice full of concern.

"Third floor's suffering through a power outage," he explained, rubbing his hands together to try and generate some warmth, "I came to see if you have any extra blankets I could borrow, by any chance?"

"I'll do you one better. Come inside, I'll make hot chocolate and turn the heat up," you nodded to inside your apartment, and Dallon's face lit up.

"Bless you, you angel," he sighed, entering.

"No problem," you chuckled.

After having turned up the heat and made both of you some chocolate, you passed Dallon a blanket before joining him on the sofa. The poor man was still shaking from the cold, and you smiled sympathetically.

"Here," you cooed, wrapping an extra blanket around his big frame before snuggling into his side, "This okay?"

"Y-yeah," he said, eyes wide; he was not anticipating this scenario, but he definitely was not complaining, "It's perfect."

As you smiled up at him, he found himself wishing that the power would never go back on.

Brendon:

After rapping your knuckles against Brendon's door a few times, you took a step back and cleared your throat, adjusting the abundance of cookies in the basket you were holding.

Brendon opened the door a moment later, and beamed widely when he saw that it was you. "Hey, it's my favourite neighbour!"

"Hey, it's my least favourite neighbour!" you greeted back with just as much enthusiasm as the man in front of you; he chuckled sarcastically in response, "I brought you something," you stated, holding out the basket to him. When he looked down and saw what it was, his smile faltered and was replaced with a slight frown and concerned eyes. "What?" you recoiled, worried that he hated your baking, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he shook his head, but when you raised an eyebrow at him, he sighed, "It's just... I know that you bake when you're stressed, and then sometimes you'll bring me some cookies or pie or whatever, but recently, you've been bringing me baskets full, like, almost everyday. Now, I'm not complaining," he held up his hands and scoffed, before softening his gaze, "but are you okay?"

You stayed silent for a minute, staring at him. Not long after, you shrugged and held out the basket again. "It's Christmas. I bake a lot at Christmas time."

You could tell by the way Brendon narrowed his eyes and reluctantly took the basket from your hands that he didn't believe you, but he didn't push you for an answer. He thanked you instead.

"No problem! See ya!"

And with that, you headed back to your apartment next door, hurrying to remove the cupcakes you had in the oven.

~Two days later, 11pm~

You were just about putting the finishing touches on your gingerbread men when the sound of your window closing made you turn around with a jump. You screamed when you saw the man standing in your living room.

Realizing that it was only Brendon, you sighed in relief and placed a hand over your hammering heart.

"Would you STOP coming in through the WINDOWS? It scares the hell out of me EVERY TIME!"

"Sorry," he said – not really meaning it – as he walked over to join you in the adjoining kitchen, "But listen, we have very thin walls – as you know," you rolled your eyes at his comment; you did know, but thankfully, he had refrained from belting out Christmas carols this year, "and I heard you crying in the shower. Also, I notice that you're baking again. Now, I'm gonna ask you for the second time and you better not lie to me... are you okay?"

Acknowledging that there was no way you were gonna get out of answering this one, you tilted your head back and exhaled. "You wanna know what's wrong, fine. At the beginning of the year, Kurt and I made plans to go to his family for Christmas this year. That had been the plan all year, and it seemed pretty solid. So I told the people I would've spent Christmas with – namely, my family and friends – that I wouldn't be with them this year. They were totally okay with it, but keep in mind that they and virtually everyone I know decided to spend Christmas away this year, so they went ahead and planned and booked everything. This was fine with me, since I had a place to spend Christmas. Then, last week, Kurt and I broke up – it was totally his fault, but that's a story for another time. Obviously, the whole 'spend Christmas with his family' thing wasn't an option anymore, and since everyone I know has gone away, I'm about to spend Christmas alone for the first time in my life. So yeah, it's less 'stress baking' and more 'feel sorry for myself why was I such an idiot' baking."

"I'm still here," Brendon said simply, catching you off guard, "Given, I'm gonna fly home next week, but I mean, you can come with, if you want."

You scoffed in incredulity. "You mean spend Christmas with your family?" He nodded vigorously. "Brendon," you breathed softly, "I can't just do that."

"Of course you can," he replied, as if it were the most obvious solution in the world, "I'm inviting you. Actually, no, I'm summoning you. (Y/N)," he cleared his throat and straightened himself up dramatically, "as your favourite neighbour-"

"Least favourite neighbour," you corrected.

"As your favourite neighbour," he repeated, "I hereby forbid you from spending Christmas alone. You will accompany me to my family's home, where they will no doubt bombard you with super awkward questions and embarrass the shit out of me, but yeah. You're coming."

"Okay," you caved, smiling broadly, "I'll go."

"Oh, we're gonna have so much fun," he gushed, rubbing his hands together, before his face turned serious and he pointed a finger at you, "But remember... what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

Ryan:

Leisurely sipping a mug of coffee, you sat on your plush two-seater; cosy and content as you watched the snow fall outside.

You became captivated by the unusual pattern of snowfall, eyes mesmerized by the beauty of it.

And then you saw a body fall.

With a gasp, you swiftly ripped the fluffy blanket from your body and set the coffee cup down before sprinting over to the patio door, yanking it open and rushing out onto the balcony. When you reached the bannister, you peered over the edge to be met with the sight of your upstairs neighbour, Ryan Ross, hanging from the ledge, knuckles white from clutching onto the bannister for dear life.

"Hey, (Y/N)," he gave you a weak smile, speaking through clenched teeth as he struggled to hold on, "How's it hangin'?"

Tossing him a disapproving look, you worked quickly to grab a hold of his forearms. Once you had a secure grip on your senseless neighbour, you summoned all of your might in order to pull him up and back to safety. It was a challenge, but you managed to help him get his feet on the ledge, and then he was able to climb over onto the patio floor.

"Ryan," you huffed as you helped him regain his balance, "what the hell were you doing?"

With a sheepish smile, he raised one gloved-covered finger and pointed up, to his apartment; you followed his gesture and scoffed once you saw what he had been occupied with when he fell.

"Really? You were putting up Christmas lights now? While it's snowing and the temperature outside is below freezing point, and without a ladder?"

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds stupid," he mumbled, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

"That's 'cause it was stupid!" you retorted, lightly smacking him across the head, "What if I was asleep, or not home? You could've died!"

"Don't be melodramatic," he rolled his eyes at you, shooing you back into your apartment and following you inside, "I would've broken a few bones, at the most."

"I can't believe you," you shook your head, glaring at him as you headed for the kitchen to make him some coffee too, and grabbing your deserted mug from the coffee table to reheat on the way, "I'd never have expected something like this from you. Brendon, for sure, but not you."

Ryan let out a giggle. "Why are you getting so emotional over this, (Y/N)? It's not the first stupid thing I've done," he pointed out, gratefully accepting the steaming hot beverage you held out to him.

"Yes, but it is the first stupid thing you've done that could've actually resulted in your death. And forgive me, but I don't feel like you dying."

"Aww," he cooed, moving to hug you; you let him, but rolled your eyes, "I love you too, (Y/N)."

"Woah, woah, woah, who said anything about love? Don't push it, Ross."

Spencer:

Zipping up your jacket, you grabbed the shovel leaning against the hallway wall and started for the front door. Right as you were about to walk through the door and brave the cold, your phone rang and as you pulled it out, you mentally thanked (Y/B/F) for her timing.

"Hey," you answered the call, grunting a bit as you tried to balance the shovel in your other hand.

"Hey, what's cookin', good lookin'?" came her response, both of you giggling at her corniness, "You up for some brunch?"

"I wish," you sighed longingly, "But the entirety of my front yard is covered in snow and unless I go out there right now to shovel everything, I won't be leaving my house for a long time."

"AWWWWW," she groaned, loud enough that you had to hold your phone away from your ear to prevent hearing damage, "Then can we at least meet up later? I feel like I haven't seen you in foreverrrrrr."

"As much as I would love that, I have a strong suspicion that shovelling will take up the majority – if not all – of my time today."

"Why don't you ask your neighbour – what was his name? Spencer? – to help? That'll at least help save time, no?"

You wheezed. "Oh, please. As if I'd ever ask him for anything. Whenever I do ask, he always does the exact opposite! I ask him to not plant his mint too close to our joint fence, 'cause that shit spreads like wildfire, and what did he do? He planted it right up against the fence. I ask him to not play his drums for two days while I finish writing my book, what did he do? He played it for that entire 48 hours! I mean, how is that even possible?"

"I see your point," (Y/B/F) replied, before sighing heavily, "Guess I'll just have to continue on in my (Y/N)less world."

"My heart breaks for you," you chuckled.

~

After two hours of shovelling non-stop, you had cleared a third of your front yard. You were freezing your ass off, but you were determined to finish clearing all the snow before going back inside.

You continued on for another thirty minutes or so, working at a hurried pace. A falling piece of white ice caught your attention, and your eyes immediately widened in panic.

"No," you shook your head, "no, no, no, no, no, no, no," you gasped as you looked up to the sky and saw the abundance of snow falling down.

You picked up the pace and resumed shovelling at a speed a million times faster than you'd previously been working at. The snow continued its relentless downpour (I have a feeling I'm going to regret using that word), covering you almost completely.

"Oh, hey, (Y/L/N)," Spencer called out, exiting his car after having just pulled into his driveway, "Almost didn't recognise you there. You look like a snowman."

"Not now, Smith!" you snapped, angrily tossing away a pile of snow.

He held up his hands in surrender and entered his home with a chuckle, leaving you to glare at him while you hit the snow with your shovel, now angered.

~About an hour later~

The snow still hadn't stopped its descent, and it showed no sign of letting up anytime soon. As Spencer peeked out of his front window, he saw that you were still busy shovelling; the sudden snowfall had thrown you off completely. He watched as you roughly threw your shovel down in frustration before looking up at and – from what he gathered from your angry expression, violent hand gestures and moving lips – cursing at the sky.

He felt a twang of guilt over not offering to help you, and then proceeded to head to the kitchen, where he made some hot chocolate.

~

When Spencer approached you, you didn't notice him at first; you were still engrossed in cussing out the sky. It was only once he draped a thick blanket over you and held out a steaming mug of hot chocolate that you acknowledged his presence.

"What's this?" you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but still accepted the chocolate.

"You and I might not be the best of friends, but that doesn't mean I wanna see you freeze to death. Why don't you come inside? I promise not to play my drums."

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Thank you for reading x