Sweater Weather
Kris/Luhan, ~950w, drabble, pg
So let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater.
The snow on the ground is fresh and crunches beneath Yifan’s boots. It had stopped earlier in the morning, but that doesn’t really change the fact that it is freezing.
At least he knows the train will be warm.
The platform is powdered with white, so Yifan moves to stand close to the edge, right behind the yellow line. He pulls out his phone and grimaces. His train is running a few minutes behind schedule. He’ll be standing here for longer than he’d thought.
“It’s cold.”
Yifan just about jumps out of his skin. Looking down, he notices a blond man standing right beside him, hands in the pockets of a fluffy sweater. He looks around. There’s a few other people who have arrived at the platform, looking equally as upset as Yifan feels. They must have found about the train, too.
But the man at his side isn’t frowning, just shivering.
“Yeah, I guess?” Yifan agrees, shaking his head and whipping his phone out, hoping the stranger will go away. He stills when a hand tentatively grabs his own. “What are you-”
“Mmm, you’re warm,” the man hums, drawing closer.
Is Yifan still sleeping? He recalls waking up clearly, but this is very… he looks down at the man, who has his eyes closed and is shivering ever so slightly in his cable knit sweater. Well. He’ll entertain the motion, at least until the train arrives.
He can feel the minute trembles in the smaller hand within his own and after a minute’s deliberation, he pockets the phone and turns, grabbing both of the guy’s hands and holding them between his own, frowning at the temperature. “Ever heard of gloves?”
The guy shrugs and Yifan finally sees his face, youthful despite the faint presence of worry lines and eyes underlined with heavy bags. He huffs, trying to warm up the frozen appendages. He gives up a while later, when screeching sounds in the distance and angry clouds have appeared overhead.
The blond’s cheeks are dusted with pink, and Yifan hears a muttered thanks before his train comes to a stop in front of him.
There’s almost no one inside-his stop is one of the first-so Yifan finds a seat with no problem. Despite the multitude of seats, he feels someone slide in beside him. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees blond hair and tired eyes.
The man, who is much shorter than him, raises an eyebrow, challenging him to say something. Yifan shakes his head and hides his grin, taking out his phone to send a message to his boss. He’ll be a little late, but he should get there before the final bell rings. They shouldn’t have to find a replacement for his first-graders, but just in case, he’ll give the balding principal a warning.
The train gets increasingly crowded as they near the city. Yifan is about to give up his seat for an elderly lady when a head plops down on his shoulder. Luckily, someone across the aisle stands up instead and Yifan sighs in relief before looking down to see blond locks contrasting against his scarlet parka. He bites his lip thoughtfully, taking in the underlined eyes and parted lips before making his decision. He leans back into the plastic and rests his hands on his knees as the cute-because who is he kidding, this guy’s adorable-stranger uses him as a pillow.
There must be some filter Yifan is missing because he really isn’t all that opposed to this guy sleeping on him. Maybe it comes with working with kids for too long. His person bubble has been damaged beyond compare.
The guy stutters in his sleep and a small smile works its way onto Yifan’s face.
But then the train gives a jarring shudder as it rounds a corner and the guy startles awake, dazed and confused. “Wha-what stop are we at?”
Yifan motions towards the map and the guy swears, jumping up and running out. The taller man smiles as the gray sweater disappears behind sliding doors. He looks down at the seat beside him and freezes. There’s something small and blue there.
Oh no.
He grabs the wallet and dashes out the closing doors, searching for a blond head. Nothing. He races up the stairs and-there. The shorter man is shuffling through his pockets but there’s just about a million people between them and Yifan shouldn’t be doing this but the blond is just about to disappear again so he opens the wallet. Xi Luhan.
“Luhan!”
The head turns and in seconds the shorter male is standing in front of him. The wallet switches hands and after a flurry of thanks, apologies, and a glance at the clock, the shorter man is gone.
Yifan smiles as the strange man dodges the crowd before realizing that he’s about twenty minutes away from his own stop and he just missed the next train.
*
The walk is nice, and small specks are falling just as he reaches the front gates. A substitute is trying to establish order with his kids when he enters, and he thanks the woman as he is tackled by children.
During the break, Yifan leans against the wall as children scream and laugh, dancing about in small flurries, looking like happy marshmallows.
A small boy topped with a navy pom pom latches onto his leg, sliding a mitten into his much larger hand.
Kris smiles.
*
Snow is caking the ground and still falling. Yifan is just about certain he’ll be teaching as a snowman today when a cold hand clutches his own.
“It’s cold,” a small voice whispers.
“Yeah,” he agrees.
Luhan smiles and moves closer.
So let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater.
The snow on the ground is fresh and crunches beneath Yifan’s boots. It had stopped earlier in the morning, but that doesn’t really change the fact that it is freezing.
At least he knows the train will be warm.
The platform is powdered with white, so Yifan moves to stand close to the edge, right behind the yellow line. He pulls out his phone and grimaces. His train is running a few minutes behind schedule. He’ll be standing here for longer than he’d thought.
“It’s cold.”
Yifan just about jumps out of his skin. Looking down, he notices a blond man standing right beside him, hands in the pockets of a fluffy sweater. He looks around. There’s a few other people who have arrived at the platform, looking equally as upset as Yifan feels. They must have found about the train, too.
But the man at his side isn’t frowning, just shivering.
“Yeah, I guess?” Yifan agrees, shaking his head and whipping his phone out, hoping the stranger will go away. He stills when a hand tentatively grabs his own. “What are you-”
“Mmm, you’re warm,” the man hums, drawing closer.
Is Yifan still sleeping? He recalls waking up clearly, but this is very… he looks down at the man, who has his eyes closed and is shivering ever so slightly in his cable knit sweater. Well. He’ll entertain the motion, at least until the train arrives.
He can feel the minute trembles in the smaller hand within his own and after a minute’s deliberation, he pockets the phone and turns, grabbing both of the guy’s hands and holding them between his own, frowning at the temperature. “Ever heard of gloves?”
The guy shrugs and Yifan finally sees his face, youthful despite the faint presence of worry lines and eyes underlined with heavy bags. He huffs, trying to warm up the frozen appendages. He gives up a while later, when screeching sounds in the distance and angry clouds have appeared overhead.
The blond’s cheeks are dusted with pink, and Yifan hears a muttered thanks before his train comes to a stop in front of him.
There’s almost no one inside-his stop is one of the first-so Yifan finds a seat with no problem. Despite the multitude of seats, he feels someone slide in beside him. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees blond hair and tired eyes.
The man, who is much shorter than him, raises an eyebrow, challenging him to say something. Yifan shakes his head and hides his grin, taking out his phone to send a message to his boss. He’ll be a little late, but he should get there before the final bell rings. They shouldn’t have to find a replacement for his first-graders, but just in case, he’ll give the balding principal a warning.
The train gets increasingly crowded as they near the city. Yifan is about to give up his seat for an elderly lady when a head plops down on his shoulder. Luckily, someone across the aisle stands up instead and Yifan sighs in relief before looking down to see blond locks contrasting against his scarlet parka. He bites his lip thoughtfully, taking in the underlined eyes and parted lips before making his decision. He leans back into the plastic and rests his hands on his knees as the cute-because who is he kidding, this guy’s adorable-stranger uses him as a pillow.
There must be some filter Yifan is missing because he really isn’t all that opposed to this guy sleeping on him. Maybe it comes with working with kids for too long. His person bubble has been damaged beyond compare.
The guy stutters in his sleep and a small smile works its way onto Yifan’s face.
But then the train gives a jarring shudder as it rounds a corner and the guy startles awake, dazed and confused. “Wha-what stop are we at?”
Yifan motions towards the map and the guy swears, jumping up and running out. The taller man smiles as the gray sweater disappears behind sliding doors. He looks down at the seat beside him and freezes. There’s something small and blue there.
Oh no.
He grabs the wallet and dashes out the closing doors, searching for a blond head. Nothing. He races up the stairs and-there. The shorter man is shuffling through his pockets but there’s just about a million people between them and Yifan shouldn’t be doing this but the blond is just about to disappear again so he opens the wallet. Xi Luhan.
“Luhan!”
The head turns and in seconds the shorter male is standing in front of him. The wallet switches hands and after a flurry of thanks, apologies, and a glance at the clock, the shorter man is gone.
Yifan smiles as the strange man dodges the crowd before realizing that he’s about twenty minutes away from his own stop and he just missed the next train.
*
The walk is nice, and small specks are falling just as he reaches the front gates. A substitute is trying to establish order with his kids when he enters, and he thanks the woman as he is tackled by children.
During the break, Yifan leans against the wall as children scream and laugh, dancing about in small flurries, looking like happy marshmallows.
A small boy topped with a navy pom pom latches onto his leg, sliding a mitten into his much larger hand.
Kris smiles.
*
Snow is caking the ground and still falling. Yifan is just about certain he’ll be teaching as a snowman today when a cold hand clutches his own.
“It’s cold,” a small voice whispers.
“Yeah,” he agrees.
Luhan smiles and moves closer.