Curate, connect, and discover
"Holy shit, Ed," Steve hisses. "We're going to die."
Eddie, teeth chattering, rolls his eyes. "No, we're not, you big baby," he says. Sure, it's January and there's a foot of snow outside and the heater in their little shithole apartment is dead. But they're not going to die. "Go get under the electric blanket."
Steve shuffles off, still complaining. "You won't love me anymore if my toes fall off. You'll call me stump feet and leave me for a man with 10 more toes than me."
"Oh my god," Eddie says, laughing. Steve's lucky he's cute. "I'll love you even if both your legs fall off."
"Will you love me if I'm dead? Because I'm going to die."
"Oh, just you now?" Eddie turns on the burners and the oven, opens the oven door wide, and starts a pot of water boiling.
"I forgot you're indestructible. Unkillable."
"Hell yeah I am. Like a vampire."
"Or a roach."
"Wow, maybe I won't make any hot chocolate afterall."
"Eddie, nooo," Steve whines, instantly pitiful. "Baby, I love you and all your roach qualities. They're my favorite qualities."
"Okay, fuck you, I'm making hot chocolate for myself."
"Nooo," Steve wails. From the couch, Eddie can see him flopping over dramatically, already burritoed in two blankets. "I am forsaken. Left to despair and desolation. Banished into the cold, chocolate-less night."
"Damn, we've really expanded your vocabulary."
"Fuck you," Steve says, before falling back to whining. "Will anyone save me? Will anyone take this cold, weary soul into his arms? Where is my roach prince?"
Eddie, face hurting from grinning, takes over two mugs to the couch. "Here you goof, now quit bitchin.'"
"My prince! In all his gross, buggy glory!"
"Oh my god, shut up!"