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The rain usually calmed Timothy, and he liked the sound of the raindrops pattering on the roof as he slowly drifted off to sleep. But now the rain, no, a real downpour, was only making him worry. The reason was stupid - extremely stupid, this long-legged “Reason” decided that they urgently need to replenish their supplies of ice cream and other goodies. Stubborn clerk still decided to take a walk to the nearest shop, despite the fact that Tim had warned him about the weather forecast about five times. What an idiot... But this was his idiot.
Timothy looked out the window again, hoping to see the familiar figure through the rain-dappled glass. It was pretty late, and the dark-grey clouds in the sky made it all even darker. The man was pacing around the room, looking as if he was doing calculations for some abstruse nonsense that his brother was always doing. He stood at the window for a while longer, looking out, and with a sigh, decided to go put the kettle on. This sure won’t be superfluous, because he will definitely have to warm up Rhys, who is not dressed for the weather at all. As the water boiled, Lawrence heard the front door creak. He ran to meet soaked to the skin Rhys, almost tripping over the cat. It gave its owner a surprised look.
As soon as Timothy opened his mouth, Rhys cut him off, pouting. Tim thought this was the most adorable expression in the world. Well, except for Rhys’ smile.
“Shut up.” Rhys grumbled as he set the bag on the floor and brushed his wet hair back from his forehead.
No, Tim would never laugh at Rhys’ misery, if only his stubbornness didn't lead him to all sorts of awkward situations so often. Smiling, he gave Rhys a peck on the cheek before he could start complaining about it.
“I told you it’s gonna rain today.” Tim sighed as he picked up the bag from the floor, shaking it to remove the wetness. It's better to leave it on the carpet at the door than let it turn into a puddle in the kitchen.
“B-but the sky was clear! You always whine when the weather forecast is lying, and then suddenly you believe it, even though there were no clouds in the sky this morning.” Rhys didn't like admitting defeat. The only time Timothy saw Rhys give up right away was when a goose ran after him.
“Better get changed before you catch a cold, adventurer. I'll go and make some tea for now, so your "loot" won’t go to waste.” Lawrence laughed as he carried the bag to the kitchen.
After changing and throwing his jeans into the washing machine, which, like his sneakers, were not spared by the dirty road, Rhys wanted to go downstairs to get his well-deserved tea, but he wasn't let to do it on his own. As soon as he left the bathroom, there were Tim’s strong arms picking him up.
“No no no no NOPE! Don’t you dare!” he protested. He always did, even though he liked being carried. But not now! They had to go downstairs, and his brain was torn between kicking with demands to put him on the floor, and staying quiet so they both won't fall down the stairs . Rhys would prefer to avoid breaking their spines. Unless it's inevitable!
In response to all the protests and struggles, only a calm "Uh-huh" was heard. Timothy imperturbably went down. Rhys didn't understand why Tim liked to carry him around so much. There was usually a lot of physical work to be done during the day already.
Resigned to what was happening, Rhys buried his cold nose in Tim's neck.
Warmth. Tim found it adorable - how his boyfriend, who easily got cold, always used him as a heating pad.
“Wow, you look paler than usual. Completely frozen?”
Rhys huffed.
“No I'm not! And you know what? Pallor is a sign of aristocracy.”
Another chuckle.
“Well, well, then, am I a plebeian? Where shall we go now, O Your Majesty?”
Rhys did not come up with an answer to this, only blushed.
Lawrence put him down, in their favorite spot in front of the fireplace. There used to be just one old armchair, but Rhys brought lots of pillows and blankets here, making some kind of a very cozy nest, and refused to get rid of this mess. Cats liked it too.
“That’s better.” Timothy said softly, commenting the red on Rhys’ cheeks.
His boyfriend had already noticed two mugs of fragrant and hot tea left on the floor, reaching for one. The warm surface of the mug warmed his palms, and, having a little sip, Rhys leaned on Tim’s broad chest, listening to his breathing, the crackle of the fire, and the rain that was left outside.
Such peace and comfort can never be achieved in any way in his small gray apartment in the city. Outside there always is a fuss, neighbors are always loud, busy with something, and his phone is just bursting with all the work messages.
Even though the countryside life was super unfamiliar for him, Rhys would like to stay here every minute, even while he was walking through the mud and the rain or running away from the monster that Tim calls a goose, not Godzilla for some reason. Here his nerve cells, destroyed by his boss’ neverending yelling, were miraculously healed. But they haven't been dating long enough for Rhys to feel free to ask about moving in together, since, well, the house was Tim’s, not his. But Timothy actually even mentioned this a few times...
Warm and strong arms wrapped around his waist, gently pulling him closer.
Kissing the top of Rhys’ head, Tim asks: "Are you warm now?". To which he nods sleepily, putting the mug aside and wriggling around to kiss Timothy. First, Rhys’ lips accidentally touch the stubble on Tim’s chin, making him wrinkle his nose, but Lawrence leans his head down a little, letting their lips finally meet. This kiss doesn't go any further, they both feel too tired for anything more than cuddles.
Rhys rolls over and, pulling his knees closer to himself, leans on Tim again, pressing his ear to his chest. After adjusting the warm blanket, Lawrence hugs his boyfriend, and he falls asleep, lulled by the warmth and the sounds of the soft crackle of the fireplace and Timothy’s heartbeat.
Later, through his sleep, Rhys realizes that Tim is carefully carrying him to the bedroom, going up these damn stairs with him in his arms.