Work Text:
Xiaojun wandered around his dorm, carefully picking up some of his scattered belongings as he tried to draft an outline in his mind for his twenty page thesis paper. Admittedly, not the most productive means of planning, however, winter was stretching into early spring and the forecast predicted a blizzard, so he was effectively homebound for the rest of the week and could afford falling behind just a little.
But it wasn't the paper he was irked about, it was the friggin blizzard. In March for Christ’s sake. The cold would seep through the thin walls for days to follow, making the nights frigid and unbearable. He shivered at the thought.
He knew what he’d signed up for when he chose to attend the university, but sometimes he forgot how intense the weather could get. Not to mention how he'd had the realization during his freshman year of just how terribly lonely he got on snowy days like the ones to come.
March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb, he reasoned with a heavy sigh, kicking aside a dirty pair of sweatpants.
Things were clearing up for him though. He was hitting a smooth patch in his school year, which was always welcomed, but of course, now that school work was going well for him, the weather was worsening.
He wasn’t much of a snow person in general - or winter person for that matter. Snow meant shoveling, grimy slush, bone chilling cold and a cloudy, overcast, bleary day. His mood was crushed in snowdrifts and cutting winds sapped all of the strength and motivation from his limbs.
A glance out the window told him that the snow had already begun to rain down in fat, sparkling clumps over the landscape of the student courtyard. He didn’t even try to subdue the groan that pushed rather loudly from his lungs. He shivered again.
There was no hope left. He’d be confined to the rumpled sheets and quilts of his bed with minimal sunlight and fresh air for another week.
Filling every space in his lungs possible, he forced himself to come to terms with his predicament before mentally slapping himself and re-instilling the fact that he was a full grown man who should be able to endure some falling ice crystals without gripping like a three year-old. He exhaled unnecessarily loudly and resumed his process of mentally drafting his essay - which counted for fifty percent of his final semester grade and frankly shouldn’t be drafted with such carelessness.
But he had nothing better to do for the day, and likely for the next three as well...
Perhaps two hours or so had passed and he’d finally reached the conclusion that trying to draft a twenty-page paper, no matter how much more time the snow storm would buy him, exuded the type of dumb bitch energy he’d been trying to avoid contracting from his boyfriend. Thus, he had decided to type up an outline of sorts on his laptop while twisting mindlessly in his spinny chair. He’d finished the majority of what he believed necessary for the assignment and was ready to take a quick bathroom break before catching up on his favorite artists’ new music videos and youtuber content when some lunatic began vehemently pounding on his door.
His breathing stopped for all of three seconds as his mind spun, trying to figure out who could possibly be visiting at such a time. He knew no one on his dorm floor (or in the entire complex for that matter) and his roommate wasn’t supposed to be coming back until he’d run out of spare clothes stashed in his partner’s apartment which, in case anyone was wondering, consisted of enough shirts and sweatpants to just barely make it through the week without doing laundry; but, him being a pig, he just never washed his clothes and wore them countless times over. Xiaojun only knew this because his roommate had asked how many shirts he should take with him and Xiaojun had replied with “seven” and hadn’t seen him in over a month.
He jumped to the conclusion that it was a student with the wrong dorm number for a party that he wasn’t invited to and decided not to make it awkward by answering the door. It’s not like he’d be able to point them in the right direction anyways.
He went into his bathroom, wincing as his bare feet hit the ice-cold tiles. Once finished, he briefly checked his disheveled reflection in the mirror and exited only for a heart attack to seize his chest.
“JESUS FUCK!” He cried, losing his balance and falling hard on his ass while his heart beat with an erratic LUB-DUB.
“Hi!”
Xiaojun wouldn't have been able to reply even if his mind hadn't been seized by his fight-or-flight response because there was no air in his lungs.
Slightly clumsy, freezing cold hands wrapped around his own and roughly hauled him to his wobbling knees while a high pitched voice began to yak in a register that only a dog could’ve heard.
His senses finally came crashing back to him and he swatted the hands away, knees buckling and sending him back to the floor with a dull thud but he finally felt his soul return to his body.
“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT???” He cried, panicked, enraged but delighted to see the light of his life.
Yangyang plopped down on the ground next to him with a cheerful smile. “Surprise!”
“YOU GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK!”
“Ooh! I brought you some things too!”
“YANGYANG, I FELT MY SOUL LEAVE MY BODY!”
Laughter as clear and bright as the sparkling waters of a waterfall filled his ears and did wonders for his racing heart. A touch, light but firm, brushed over his shoulders and a face more beautiful than any angel Xiaojun could dream up tilted down into his line of sight.
The anger in his body melted into a fuzzy warmth that made his heart kick up again, but in a good way this time.
“Sorry I scared you, but it was hilarious, I mean, the look on your face just sent me-”
The fuzzy warmth dissolved into embarrassment and a slight itch of fond annoyance.
“You don't sound sorry.”
“You’re right, I’m not and I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” Yangyang admitted with a huge grin and cackled loudly.
Xiaojun huffed, grumbled about kids these days and scrambled to his feet, stumbling over to his bed and sprung onto his mattress. He let himself flop onto the unmade covers to watch his boyfriend follow energetically.
The bed jostled him as Yangyang jumped on, engulfing the other in a hug. Xiaojun tipped over, letting Yangyang crush him under his weight and nuzzled closer. Yangyang felt like a furnace in the freezing cold of his room and he would've been very okay with simply letting his boyfriend's body warm him for hours.
“How’d you get in?” Xiaojun mumbled against the chilled fabric of Yangyang’s soft sweatshirt.
“You gave me a key, remember?”
Xiaojun frowned. “When?”
“Four days ago when you sent me on a coffee run and gave it to me in case you fell asleep. And never asked for it back. Can I kiss you now?”
Xiaojun pondered the story. He actually hadn’t left his dorm in the last day and before he must’ve just not locked his door.
A displeased groan was absorbed and muffled into his boyfriend’s mouth as their lips pressed together.
Sweet. He’d come to find himself addicted to the taste of his boyfriend’s lips and he craved more each time they parted. His craving was insatiable.
“This is non-consensual,” he mumbled against his boyfriend’s lips, kissing him harder, his body noticeably warming.
“What is?”
Xiaojun squinted. “This kiss…?”
“Why?”
“Because you can’t just do that without asking for permission,” he bantered with a small grin.
But Yangyang’s eyes twinkled sharply. “Can’t what?”
“Kiss me-”
Anything else that was supposed to follow was promptly cut off by Yangyang’s lips once more. He couldn’t help the smile that spread over his lips or the light chuckle that rose from his chest.
“Alright, you got me, smartass.”
Yangyang leaned back down without another word. There was nothing intense or rushed about the kiss. It had a sort of innocence and cheekiness that was new for Xiaojun, but he loved it just as much as every other kiss.
“Alright, alright,” he breathed, gently pushing Yangyang off of him so he could sit up.
The bright grin on Yangyang’s lips made his heart flutter and before he could stop himself, he surged forward, pecking him swiftly on the lips (he’d later deny doing any such thing) and hopped out of bed before the younger could pull him back in.
“Yangyang, I have work to do,” he complained, falling back into his chair and spinning around ever so professionally.
“That’s fine! I just didn’t want you to get cold and lonely,” he chirped with a teasing edge to his words, dumped the contents of his bag onto Xiaojun’s floor and began his own work.
Xiaojun found it too good to be true that Yangyang was willing to simply study and not bother him but he shrugged it off, trying to focus on his paper and not the crushing lack of warmth.
Needless to say, Xiaojun got very little done with his boyfriend sprawled over the ground in front of him making unrelenting puppy eyes at him if he even so much as glanced away from his work. Not to mention how the temperature of the room had significantly dropped and he was shivering in his sweatshirt and sweatpants.
“Fine! Fine,” he grumbled suddenly, standing so fast his chair nearly fell over, and walked to where Yangyang had relocated himself onto Xiaojun’s bed once more.
Yangyang’s victorious smirk didn’t go unnoticed but Xiaojun chose not to give him the satisfaction of commenting on it. Instead, he let himself completely crush the other boy under his weight in a bear hug.
“Ah fuck you, big chungus,” Yangyang groaned, trying and failing to move the immovable mass that was his boyfriend.
“Big what??”
“Chungus, you know like- nevermind,” he grunted, managing to flip around onto his stomach and resorted to pushing himself up with his hands.
“Okay then,” he chuckled, relaxing even more until Yangyang collapsed back down onto the bed under his full weight
Bluntly, he finally made his request. “Cuddle me.”
Yangyang blinked. “You’re something else…”
He pouted. “Fine, I can always kick you out.”
“No no no no, that won’t be necessary.” At lightning speed, Yangyang had wrapped his arms tightly around Xiaojun and wiggled them under the warm covers, cozily pressed up against one another.
“This is the best part about snow,” Yangyang murmured happily, stroking a finger over Xiaojun’s perfect eyebrows.
“What is? Cuddling?”
“Specifically warm cuddles on a cold day…”
Xiaojun had to admit that it was much warmer under the covers with someone to share the bed with. His fingers had warmed and Yangyang’s body was just so soft and huggable in his worn, baggy sweatshirt.
He felt safe and loved.
“Alright… I’ll give you that but snow’s the worst possible weather on this earth.”
“Tornadoes?”
“Second worst.”
“Hurricanes?”
“Third worst.”
“Monsoons?”
“Fourth worst.”
“Tsunamis, earthquakes-”
Xiaojun promptly whacked his boyfriend over the head with an open palm and glared playfully. “Shut up and cuddle me properly,” he demanded.
“My, is the cold hurting your joints and making you cranky old man?- Ack! Hit me with that pillow one more time and I leave you to freeze alone!”
“Do it, you won’t- oh, fuck, no, Yangyang don’t leave meee!!”
Their next two days are spent in deep slumber and warm, energizing cuddles under the blankets while they laugh, kiss, sing and love.
Once or twice Xiaojun is able to sit down and get done work done but when he’s not being wrestled from his desk, he’s being hugged and cuddled with the utmost of warmth and love by his amazing boyfriend so he can’t really complain.
A storm he’d dreaded had flipped around into a time where he never once stopped smiling or laughing with the person who mattered the most to him.