Life Saver [Berwald]

No. No- It just couldn't be true. These kinds of things just didn't happen. But there he was, and it had happened. It had happened at the worst kind of time ever. There didn't seem to be a single person around to help him. Oh, it was his unlucky day.

Standing before the front door to the apartment building, shopping bags standing on the ground by his feet, Francis glared daggers at the stupid pass code lock. He could not believe that he had forgotten the access code to the building! He only remembered the old one, but of course it didn't work when he tried that in hope of it working. Or rather - He had tried that first, didn't work, then remembered the code had changed.

If he had been a brute, he would probably be banging on the door like some desperate animal. But no, he wouldn't do that. He was far too sophisticated to do that. Besides, getting in a fight with the neighbours wasn't his kind of thing. He wanted to be on friendly terms with most of them, and he wouldn't want to ruin that. It would be unnecessary. Also, very humiliating.

He inspected his nails quietly for only a moment with his back turned to the door, before letting out a frustrated sigh and turning back to the door, staring through the glass. Why couldn't they just all get their own key so they wouldn't have to deal with this!

Refusing to sit down on the ground to let his feet rest - his shoes were nice but oh, they were new and hurt his feet badly! - he started to pace back and forth, stubbornly trying to remember what the code was.

Berwald was returning from working in his furniture store one afternoon. He was tired and planning on taking a nice long nap until he decided to make himself dinner. His hands were aching and he was only reluctantly carried his toolbox home. Perhaps a bath beforehand- or better yet, hand cream for his poor sore hands. So it was a very normal day.That was why it was a bit of a surprise to find someone pacing outside the door. He approached the man- Oh. He recognised him too. They lived on the same floor, didn't they? His name was... Was... What was his name? Berwald couldn't recall. Perhaps he should add that to his list of questions.

He tapped the man on the shoulder. "H'llo, neighbour." That was a good start. Now, perhaps there was a reason he was standing outside? Berwald just wanted to be able to get in. "S'mething wrong?"

(( Short D: ))

Francis had been so lost in his thoughts, that he had not heard his neighbour creeping - in reality, walking - towards him. And therefore he was very surprised when he suddenly he felt someone tap on his shoulder, so surprised that he made a squeaky noise that was anything but manly- much to his own dismay.

But that really didn't matter when he saw who it was. Oh, if it wasn't his beloved neighbour from the same floor as him! Someone who appeared to know a lot about things and being quite organised, always running around with his toolbox and being manly. Francis quite liked that.

That's beside the point though. "Oh, darling, you do not know 'ow 'appy I am to see you!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands together. It didn't really occur to him that they didn't know each other much, at least not aside from the fact they knew about the other one's existence, so calling the other 'darling' might not be the best thing. Not that he really cared. "You see- I've ran into a little problem, to say the least..." his voice trailed off. It was a little embarrassing, forgetting the code.

"Unluckily, I 'ave somehow forgotten the code to the door," he said after a moment of silence, looking at Berwald and trying his best to look sweet.

He felt bad for startling his neighbour and put his hand down. The noise that came out of the man's mouth sounded very undignified and Berwald's lips twitched upwards, but he pushed them down again, frowning. He shouldn't he laughing at something like that! He set down his toolbox and peered at the neighbour. "Happy t' see m'?" Now that wasn't often something he heard out of peoples' mouths- not directed to him, at least. "Pr'blem, y' say?" What was his name again? Began with an F, he was sure. It was bugging Berwald greatly and until he could remember it... He couldn't seem to remember anything else. It niggled at the back of his mind.

Oh- code! Right! Berwald leaned over to the number pad and peered at it. Then cleaned his glasses, frowning. He couldn't quite remember it. His neighbour was looking at him funny. Berwald raised an eyebrow at him. "Wh't did y' say y' name was?" He asked, running his fingers through his hair. Knowing that would solve his problem.

And if it didn't, he always had his screw driver.

Francis nodded as the other man repeated his words as questions, taking it as that the other understood that this was indeed a big problem that needed to get fixed right now. He crossed his fingers and prayed to the gods that his nice neighbour would have the code on him, so that he could open the door. He needed to get his groceries inside before anything happened to them.

While the man with the strange accent was trying with the number pad, Francis was gathering his bags and picked them up. Oh, his poor joints were not liking this. He should really consider going to the doctor and see what was wrong with his body. Because fragile, aching joints weren't something that a young man like himself should have. It was ridiculous, all of it- Because he never remembered doing anything to cause something like this! But then again, his vision had also changed without a reason...

His bubble was burst when the other spoke up. It took him a moment to register what he had been asked, because of the weird accent the other had... "Oh, it's Francis Bonnefoy, dear~" he said, giving him a charming smile. "'ow about you? I am afraid I never did catch your name, even though I've probably 'eard and seen it many times..."

Francis Bonnefoy, that was it! Finally, he could think again. And as a side note, what a pretty name that was, for a man. Berwald held out his hand to shake. "'s nice t' meet y' properly, Fr'ncis. M' name's B'rwald." He offered an attempt at a smile and tried to shake Francis' hand firmly but not too firmly. He didn't want to be crushing anyone's hand now, did he? Once they'd shook, Berwald withdrew the hand and looked back at the code. "...Hn." He remembered it now. 0-4-4-7-1. He punched the numbers in, looking pleased with himself. The smug look increased when the light flashed green and the door made a 'click' as it unlocked. Berwald went to push it open, but paused. The door wouldn't get further than a few centimeters apart. Well damn.

Berwald sucked in a deep breath and rammed his shoulder into the door. It rumbled at the impact but didn't want to open. What had caused it to stick like that anyway? He turned back to Francis with a shrug. He didn't want to ask for help, surely he could do it himself. Backing up a bit, he tried to use his other shoulder to push it open. It did swing open slightly. But only slightly. At least he could be assured that it wouldn't swing back and lock on him again.

To shake Berwald's hand, Francis had to put down some of the bags again, but it didn't bother him too much. Soon he would be inside the lift and getting back to his room and everything would be fine. Besides, the extra rest for his wrist was very welcome.

He wasn't all that surprised at the firm grip the other man had. His hands were large and it was clear that they had years of work in them considering their boldness and the rough feeling of the skin. Also, he guessed that Berwald had a strong and thicker than average skeleton, that helped keep his body up and going. He wasn't exactly a small man, which Francis currently felt like when he really thought about and examined the other's build.

And that face...

Francis did his best to not stare, but he was so very fascinated by the man's looks that he almost didn't notice the other pulling his hand away.

"... Yes, it's nice to meet you too, Berwald," he murmured in reply, taking a look at his own hand which was thin and elegant, soft and gentle from huge amounts of skin care. How truly different they were.

But that didn't matter, as he went back to watching the other man. Who seemed to have a bit of problems with the door... He blinked when he received a shrug as an answer to his not yet posed question.

"Berwald, darling, is there something wrong with the door?" he asked, quirking a brow. The door, from what he saw, seemed to be stuck. Would only budge a little, but wouldn't open completely. My god, this really wasn't his day. He just wanted to get back to his room and relax... Was that really too much to ask?

Berwald grunted. Stupid door. It wasn't the first time the door had been trouble. Berwald, over his years of living at the apartment, had encountered various problems. The hinges-won't-budge problem wasn't exactly new. They just needed a little oiling to loosen them up. It was a pity Berwald had left his canister of oil back at his workshop, but if it came to it, he wouldn't have a problem with running to go get it. But at least it meant it was no big deal. He glared at the door determinedly and growled, sounding practically feral, "There's-" He hit it with his shoulder, "Nothin'-" Hit, "Wrong-" Hit, "WITH-" Hit, "THIS-" Hit, "DOOR!" The door rattled in protest, slowly budging open the more he hit it. He stopped and put his hands on his knees, panting to regain his breath.

Once he'd recovered, Berwald opened up his toolbox and rifled through it to see if he could find anything useful. Finding nothing, he sighed and closed it again. "Y' could d' m' a favour. I'm s're y' could squeeze through th' door at th't gap. I could tr'st y' to run up t' my apartment and get m' spare oil. Th' problem's in th' hinges, see."

Watching the other man almost literally fight with the door, Francis couldn't help but take more notes of how... Manly the other man was. Berwald reminded him of a strong, fierce animal. And with the way he looked - something that lived in the woods. Like a bear. Strong, big and bold. Short hair and an intimidating aura when he did certain things like growling and attacking the door like some kind of... Brutish, dangerous animal - like a bear. Yes, a bear was the perfect animal for this man.

Francis saw how the door inched open, and when Berwald stopped abusing the misbehaving door to regain his breath, he looked at him with a raised brow. "Nothing wrong with the door, you say...?" he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Oh la la..."

He blinked at the other when he heard the suggestion that was given. Problems with the hinges. So he should slip through that gap and-

"What-? I, squeeze through that?" he pointed at the door gap. He was a bit sceptical, but then again, he never did have to squeeze himself through a space like that to get anywhere. Maybe he would fit in there... "... Fine. If that's the fastest way to fix this," he sighed again, giving in to the other's suggestion and went up to the door to inspect the gap. If this was the fastest way to get into the building and fix this problem, he just couldn't say no and have the nice man - who tried to help him - find another solution that might be more troublesome.

"... I'll need your keys, and where do you keep the oil? And please watch my bags for me," he said and pointed. Oh, he really hope none of his clothes would get stuck in something and rip while he made his way through that gap...

Berwald's shoulder ached. Not bad enough for a bruise, but maybe he shouldn't have rammed the door so hard. Still, as long as it was worth it and Francis could get through, Berwald could put up with the pain. He gave it one last push before stepping aside to let Francis squeeze through. "Careful of nails. Y' wouldn't want t' snag." Francis' shirt looked expensive. Stylish too. It would be a shame if he ruined it. It was cute, Berwald decided. Nothing he could pull off. And looked comfortable too, surprisingly. If Berwald were camp enough, he wouldn't mind wearing it, he mused. "...N' the pot'ntial splinters." He tapped the door. "See if y' can get through 'n' then I'll give y' the key?" He stuck his hand in his pocket. Maybe he should separate his house key from everything else? But that might just be a hasstle. They were exchanging things; Berwald give Francis his key, and Francis gives up his shopping bags until he gets back, trusting them to Berwald. That sounded fair.

Francis had started to regret agreeing to this. Nails, splinters- oh no no no, those were his worst enemies right now! He would really start crying if something ended up being ripped... Oh, his beloved clothes. Just because of this god forsaken door!

Hesitantly he looked back at the other man, before turning back towards the door. "Alright, through first, then the key..." he murmured, taking deep breathes to brace himself as he turned his side towards the gap. Then he put both of his hands on the door. Holding his breath as if it would make him more thin than he already was, he started to squeeze himself through the gap. It was going to be worth it, it was going to be worth, he kept telling himself.

It wasn't very pleasant, what with the door frame pressing into his back and the constant fear of something ripping - but he surprised even himself. He managed to get through, even though he felt as if he was going to become squished like an ant.

Berwald watched carefully as Francis slipped through, keeping an eye on his shirt. As a matter of fact, it did snag, and Berwald leant over and released the little fold of the shirt from the pointed bit it was caught on, giving it a gentle pat before realising that was probably very weird and he'd just pretty much patted this near-stranger's (not to mention man's) hip. He withrdrew his hand and stared at his shoes. That seemed like the best thing to do. He waited for Francis to squeeze all the way through before even daring to look up, then produce his key, holding it out abashedly, his ears red.

"M' oil's in th'..." He thought for a moment, scratching his chin. "Th' clos't, in th' box behind th' wrappin' paper." Yes, that was right. Perhaps while Francis was gone, Berwald should do some planning. Specifically, he should plan what he should and shouldn't do around Francis, and how to not make a fool of himself.

Surprised when he felt a patting touch on his hip, Francis had looked down just to see Berwald being so closed and doing something with his shirt - or whatever it was that he had been doing. All he could think of when he had gotten through the gap, was how awkward the other man looked. Oh, wasn't he just such a darling - so big and strong looking, yet maybe very soft at heart? Francis said to himself that he needed to get to know Berwald more. The man just seemed to be so wonderfully cute!

"Ah, alright, I'll remember that," he said, and reached out to carefully take the key from Berwald. He did so while smiling widely with a bit of white teeth. "I will be back as soon as possible, alright~? See you in a bit, cutie pie~"

After winking flirtily and blowing the other man a kiss, he then disappeared further into the building to take the elevator - he would've taken the stairs if he had enough strength, but it couldn't be helped.

Berwald's cheeks burned with that last comment and he couldn't bring himself to watch Francis walk away, instead turning to face away from the door and sit on the low wall beside it, keeping his eyes on the bags and his toolkit. Francis was a weird one. At least... At least that grin meant that Francis wasn't creeped out by Berwald's less-than-appropriate (At least he thought so) touches. Berwald sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face, taking off his glasses to do so. He sure hoped Francis wasn't prying through his posessions. But Berwald would understand if he did. Curiosity got to the best of them, after all.

He twiddled his thumbs. Then cleaned his glasses. Then thought he'd try prodding at the hinges with his trusty screw driver. Berwald should try to be more patient. So he drew in a deep breath, held it, let it out... That was better. He glanced at his wrist watch and absent-mindedly sang a song under his breath. He didn't often sing songs in public, but seeing as nobody was around, he was sure he could do it just this once.

Eventually, the elevator doors opened, and Francis stepped inside. He pressed the right button, felt the elevator move and then patiently waited to get to his floor. He actually hadn't been inside any of his neighbour's rooms yet- at least the ones who currently lived there. Before the thunderstorm, it was as if no one knew that the other existed. It was as if they were all too different to get to know each other and do any bonding. It was a very sad thought, really, and Francis wished that it hadn't taken a thunderstorm to make people interract. What with him seeing things or... Whatever it was that was wrong with him.

The time flew by when he stood and thought for himself, and suddenly he was at the top floor. He hurried out of the elevator, and was about to go to his own room - when he remembered what he was doing. Sighing, he looked for Berwald's door, and unlocked it.

It took so much of him to not start sneaking around through the other man's things as he stepped inside, but he had been entrusted with finding that oil and taking it back down. The only thing he really did take a look on, was the small kitchen. Nothing too interesting - he could probably spend some time criticising the man's tastes and the kind of tools he used but that was for another time...

"Closet... Behind the wrapping paper..." he murmured to himself as he opened the closet door. Ah, there the box was. He put it on the floor, and then reached for the oil. Thankfully it wasn't dirty or anything, so he didn't have to worry about getting spots of oil on his clothes. Though, he held the can carefully anyway, not wanting to risk anything.

He locked the door, and looked between the elevator and the stairs. Sighing, he headed down the stairs, knowing that it would be the quicker option. They really needed to do something about this lift. Upgrade it, hopefully.

Berwald was alone now. He was also kind of bored. The bags were safe. The toolbox was safe. What now? Twiddle his thumbs. He twiddled them for a good few minutes before his thumbs grew tired and he had to stop. He counted the number of cars which went past. Very few; it wasn't a busy road this time of day. A few people went past and spared him quick glances. Berwald stared at each of them and they hurried away without a backwards glance. How strange.

But only a few moments later, a stray cat came along. That was much better. Berwald loved cats, they were cute creatures. He bent down and held out his hand, trying to stay as still and friendly as possble. It seemed to work and the cat approached, sniffing his fingers curiously. He let the slightest of smiles make its way onto his lips and let it rub its cheek against his hand affectionately. Yes, he loved animals. The cat mewled at him and Berwald guessed it was looking for some sort of attention, so he petted it.

The cat rolled onto its- oh, his -back and Berwald assumed this meant that he could pet him. The cat purred, and oh what a cute sound it was. He leaned his face closer to the cat's, practically nuzzling its cute litlte tummy. His ears went pink and he felt very unmanly, but nobody was around, so it was worth it. He just hoped Francis didn't come back and see it.

Francis took a moment to stand still and lean against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. Oh, he needed to take the stairs more often - he didn't even manage to walk down them without getting a bit out of breath. But then again... He had walked down 8 floors- and 8 floors meant a very large amount of steps. So maybe it wasn't really that bad... Or maybe it was. He wouldn't know, really... He never did have reasons to do anything that exhausted him too much. Aside from... A couple of things that he shouldn't start thinking of right now.

Sighing to himself and tugging some hair behind his ear, he went over to the door to call on Berwald and tell him that he had fetched the oil. Though, that little planned kind of failed, as he stopped in his tracks at what he saw on the other side of the door.

The sight was funny enough to make him giggle, and adorable enough to make him let out a sound that very much resembled an 'aaaw~'. Berwald really was a funny figure... Unfortunately, he needed the other man's attention, since he was holding in the requested oil that would fix the stupid hinges on the door.

"Berwald, darling, I'm back with the oil!" he called out with a smile.

Berwald jumped and jerked away from the kitty, startling it and causing it to hiss at him and dart off in a flash. Berwald sighed as he watched it go. He would've liked to keep his furry little companion a little longer, but now was not the time for that. He stood and brushed away the dirt from his knees and the palms of his hands, accepting the oil. "Th'nk y'. I hope 't wasn't too m'ch trouble." And also that Francis didn't go sticking his nose in places he shouldn't. Berwald was never too trusting of people he didn't know well.

He stucks his arm through the door and took the oil gratefully, pulling it towards himself. He shook it to make sure there was enough, which there was, and pressed the little pump a few times to get the oil dripping, letting it drizzle through the hinges of the door. He set the canister on the wall and waited a few moments for the oil to work its magic, then wiggled the door. It budged a bit one way. Then it budged a bit the other way. Then he shoved it, and it flew open with such violence that it bounced off the wall, swung back around and smacked Berwald in the face. He let out a grunt on impact, stumbling back.

"...Did 't."

Francis couldn't help but to giggle softly at the other man's reaction, finding him oddly adorable. Ah, he would certainly make sure to spend more time with this Berwald in the future. But now he had to think about getting his bags to his apartment, so that nothing would spoil. It would sure be a sad thing to happen...

"Ah, no, it's quite alright~ I found it very easily," he said as he handed over the oil, then stepped back to watch Berwald work his magic. He didn't want to risk having a door flying into his face - or worse... Oil spots on his clothes! That would be a scandal.

What he hadn't seen coming, was that Berwald would get the door in his face. He shrieked as he saw it happen, shocked at the scene. He had twitched at the sound when the door hit the wall, but it was far from as terrifying as when the other man was hit in the face.

"Oh mon Dieu-! Are you alright? Oh my God." he asked as he opened the door, his eyes wide and filled with worry. He stepped up to him, having forgotten about everything else and only focusing on Berwald. "Are you 'urt? Are you feeling dizzy?"

Berwald grunted and stumbled back, clamping both hands over his face. From what he could feel, his nose was definitely not broken. However, also from what he could feel, his nose was definitely, definitely bleeding. And now that Francis mentioned it... he was dizzy. But that wasn't actually his main concern, surprise surprise. The problem was that his glasses had been knocked off his face and he had no idea where they were. "Fr'nc's..." He mumbled, even less clear than usual, and let the blood drip slowly through his fingers. "'M rather dizzy... so could y'... Take th' bagg'ge upstairs?" Francis' bags and Berwald's tools were rather more important to him at the moment. He leant on the wall to let his head clear, and once he could think straight, he made his way to the blur that was the elevator.

He smacked into a wall.

Clearly, he missjudged the placement of the elevator, and the colour of the door wasn't much different to the colour of the walls, once the elevator door reflected them. He wished he could at least have his glasses back... Unbeknownst to him, though, his glasses slowly skidded across the floor, as though peeking out from their hiding place to come back to him.

Now Francis was getting very worried, especially when he saw the blood that was coming out of the other man's nose. Oh, he really didn't like blood - it was just as horrible as the moments that he was able to see through things, if not even worse! Now what should he do, he clearly couldn't leave the other man on his own. Not when he was blind like a bat, and his speech seemed to have gotten worse. Not to mention that he actually admitted to feeling dizzy.

The Frenchman winced when he saw Berwald smacking right into the wall next to the elevator.

"... We can leave the things just inside the door and get them later. Right now, I think we need to get you back to your place, dear. Without getting you more 'urt than you already are," he sighed softly and placed the bags and the toolbox inside of the building so they wouldn't be forgotten outside, and then went up to Berwald to place a hand on his arm and get a closer look at him. The sight of the blood made him shudder and feel a bit faint, but he could manage if he did his best to not think about it.

He blinked as he noticed something else that would explain why the man walked into the wall. "Oh- so you dropped your glasses..." He murmured, and threw a glance at the floor, trying to see if he could find them without leaving Berwald's side.