#i was thinking about this again this morning and lamenting that i'm crap at writing long fic

[lynne-monstr]

@undead-robins replied to your post “@joatamon replied to your post “@afincf-tirwer replied to your post...”

Of course, after this, hst is coming round more often, sometimes to bring groceries, sometimes to tell him about an important piece of gossip he just found out about one of the other pro players, sometimes just to say hi. The first time ywz finds him sitting on the doorstep in the rain, he gets a second key cut 'just for emergencies' but hst is pretty sure that taking in the ice cream before it melts qualifies as an emergency. 

It takes about 6 months, but ywz finally realises that hst has pretty much moved in with him, and tells him to pack up the rest of his own apartment and make it formal. It's only practical, after all - why have two sets of rent to pay. Neither of them mention that there's only one bedroom and only one bed.

yu wenzhou almost doesn’t recognize him at first. 

a gust of wind mangles his umbrella and he lowers it with a resigned sigh. by the time he makes it to the end of the street, his hair is dripping into his eyes and down the back of his neck. he can barely see past the scattering of droplets on his glasses. 

all he wants to do is get inside and get dry and put this day behind him. 

at least he’s not as bad off as the huddled lump in a bright green windbreaker crouched miserably under the too-narrow ledge of his apartment building. the awning blocks some of the rain but doesn’t shield the unfortunate stranger from being drenched from head to toe. he walks past and catches a glimpse of messy dyed hair beneath the windbreaker’s hood. 

the familiar color teases a smile at the edges of his mouth. no matter where he goes, something always manages to remind him of huang shaotian. 

they’ve seen a lot more of each other these past couple months. more than he ever intended when they agreed to the idea of a cooling off period. in the end, it barely lasted three months before his new life was upended with a knock on his door and an armful of groceries. they’ve been texting almost nonstop ever since. 

part of him wonders if he’s doing the right thing, allowing their lives to become so entwined again so quickly. it’s mostly drowned out by a warm fluttering in his chest every time the phone in his pocket vibrates with another message. 

his phone has been suspiciously silent all afternoon. 

probably busy with work, yu wenzhou figures. for all his multitasking ability, huang shaotian has a tendency to get swept up in new projects and new ideas, riding the high of his own excitement and forgetting he no longer lives in a building where people he knows can physically pull him away from his computer. it means he occasionally falls down a black hole and only emerges when yu wenzhou knocks on his door with groceries for dinner and movie recommendations. 

he files away a mental note to call huang shaotian later, just to check that everything’s alright.

the human-shaped lump under the ledge rustles and shifts as he fits the key into the lock. he pauses, hoping he isn’t about to get mugged in front of his own apartment building. how embarrassing.

he meets the eyes of the stranger on the ground and nearly drops his keys. 

“shaotian?” blinking away the water in his eyelashes, yu wenzhou squints through the mess of his glasses. it doesn’t change the sight before him.

huang shaotian is sitting on the ground, soaked to the bone yet still smiling. his eyes shine, a stark contrast to the dreary gray curtain of the world around them. yu wenzhou bends over without conscious thought, shielding him from the rain with his body.

“captain.. no wait, sorry, i mean—” just as quickly, the brightness of his expression shutters shut. “wenzhou.” 

the edges of his grin turn strained and yu wenzhou’s knuckles clench around his housekeys. it’s a jarring reminder that yu wenzhou isn’t his captain anymore and the days when huang shaotian could stroll uninhibited into his room are over. 

not even the deafening rain can drown out the surge of melancholy the thought brings.

luckily, huang shaotian is a force of nature all on his own. “wenzhou, wenzhou, i thought I was going to drown waiting for you. what took you so long to come home?” he gestures to the large, reusable tote bag tucked behind him, more shielded from the weather than he himself is. “i was bringing groceries. do you remember the fish you liked so much last time? they had it again and so i bought double. halfway here it started to rain and i guess no one wants to go out in this weather because no one came into the building to follow inside and i’d gone too far to turn back and...”

yu wenzhou lets the words roll over him like the steady crashing of waves against the shore, reliable and constant. he hustles them both into the lobby of his building.

“why didn’t you call? are you trying to get yourself sick?” he finally asks when huang shaotian takes a rare pause for air. out of sheer habit, he tilts his head in the way the used to indicate an upcoming reprimand.

huang shaotian nearly squeaks in his rush to answer, and yu wenzhou has to bite back a laugh. "my phone battery died. stupid thing, I knew I should have bought one of those spare battery chargers. but it’s okay i knew you’d come eventually.”

he’s still talking when they enter the elevator and finally the apartment, and he hasn’t lost steam by the time yu wenzhou ushers him into the bathroom to dry off and change clothes. by the time he’s fetched a spare pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for them both, he realizes with a start that the tension in his shoulders has lifted. he feels lighter. happier.

there isn’t a second bathroom and so he contents himself with dry clothes and a towel rubbed over his wet hair until it’s no longer dripping. once that’s sorted, he starts unpacking the hoard of groceries. the recipe he’ll need to use is taking shape in his mind with each new item he unveils.

rain batters the windows in a sharp staccato rhythm as he takes down pots and pans from their various shelves. soon after, it’s joined by the low hiss of the shower running. 

cooking isn’t enough to fully occupy his thoughts and his mind starts to drift. 

he doesn’t have a dormitory room in blue rain anymore. those days are over and they can never go back. he does, however, have an apartment. huang shaotian will have to make due with barging into that instead. 

as he works, he mentally crosses off ‘call huang shaotian to check in’ and replaces it with a note about spare keys.