Where there's a will etc.

"Jesus Christ I'm fucking FREEZING" whined Simon, who admittedly was in shorts and a tank top. Summer weather apparently didn't apply to basements of bars, and though Oliver was in a t-shirt and tight jeans, he felt the chill sapping at him.

"I cannot fucking believe we're locked down here without phones" Oliver despaired. Knowing they'd already locked up the front and turned the lights off, rescue was unlikely to come till Carlos came in at 6AM to clean. Simon threw his shoulder into the door, wincing with pain as it didn't budge. "FUCK, SOMEONE OPEN THIS GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING DOORRRRRRR" Simon roared. Oliver rooted around in storage in hope of a key, or screwdriver to take the damn thing off its hinges. Returning to Simon sitting on the bottom step, all Oliver had to show for himself was an abandoned hoodie and a bottle of coconut rum. Offering the sweater to Simon, Oliver uncapped the bottle and took a pull "welp, may as well make ourselves comfortable. By my guess we've got four, maybe five hours down here- and that depends on Carlos being on time." Simon let out a bitter laugh, and took the bottle "Oh Ollie, there's worse looking men to be trapped in a basement with- did I ever tell you about the dungeon in Berlin..."

They passed a while getting progressively drunker, swapping stories of wilder times and trying to one up each other. The stories grew increasingly more ridiculous, with Oliver knowing he was embellishing his own sexual exploits to the point of making them up whole cloth. Simon was insistent on sharing the details of fucking boys in the ass in P-Town to blow bangs in Ibiza. Oliver was surprised to find he wasn't sure if he was getting more aroused from his own memories or Simon's explicit stories. After a while they emptied out some boxes and laid the cardboard down to try and get some sleep. "Ollie you know I'd never dream of being inappropriate, but this sweater isn’t doing too much to keep the chill out- keep me warm?"

Oliver pulled Simon closer onto his stack of boxes "sure thing Si, chivalry ain’t dead", Simon pressed himself back snugly into Oliver "my knight in shining armor, Sir Ollie the Handsome.”