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It wasn’t supposed to rain today.
Zack had checked- or at least said he’d checked- before they left the apartment. Two stops away from class, Cloud realized his umbrella was still under the sink from the last time it rained. While he clutched his bag to his chest, Zack leaned back, stretching his arms over the back of his seat and assuring him the skies would be clear in the evening when class got out.
His bag is clutched to his chest now as he stares out of the glass doors of the science building as it pours, the streets flooding, the only light the flashes of lightning that startle Cloud each time.
There’s a whistle from beside him. Cloud has to close his eyes and breathe to keep from snapping. “Nasty out there,” Zack says, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels. “Weather app isn’t worth shit, I guess.”
The crash of thunder makes Cloud jump, eyes flying open. Zack settles him with a hand on his back. “Hey,” he says, soft. “Easy.”
Against his better nature, Cloud scoffs. “How are we supposed to get home in this?”
Zack’s hand rubs his back, likely idly, but Cloud tries to feel annoyed by the way it soothes him. “Wait for a bus,” Zack shrugs, pulling out his phone to check the schedule. He taps his way through menus, wiggling his thumb as he waits for the shitty wifi to load anything. “Run to it. Catch it, if we’re lucky.”
Cloud groans. He’s glad he didn’t bring his laptop today. He cannot risk another threat to that shit’s lifespan. Though he knows it won’t do a thing to help, he opens his jacket to stuff his backpack in against his chest and zips it up. “We’re not lucky.”
“What?” Zack says, hand stopping suddenly on Cloud’s back.
“We’re not lucky,” Cloud repeats, flipping his hood over his head. He slams his arm into the creaky old doors that are in desperate need of repair and braves the onslaught of cold, endless rain.
“Cloud!” Zack yells, exasperated. When Cloud doesn’t answer, trudging further through the puddles, Zack groans and shakes off his jacket. He throws it over his head and shoves the door open to follow the blond, shoes instantly soaked through the moment he crosses the threshold. “The bus is five minutes away!”
If Cloud says something, it’s drowned out by the rain. His hunched figure staggers and jumps over puddles, turning his back to the direction the harsh winds are coming from in a feeble attempt to keep his backpack dry. Zack takes long strides until he’s close enough to try to talk to Cloud again.
“What are we doing?” Zack shouts, pulling his jacket down tighter over his hair. “We can’t walk all the way home in this.”
“We’ll get there sooner this way,” Cloud shouts back.
Zack breathes out a disbelieving laugh. He can’t argue, because Cloud’s probably right. This late in the evening, the buses slow down, routes merging as campus winds down for the night. The rain shows no sign of stopping, so Zack picks up the pace, jumping in the split second footprints left behind by Cloud on the sidewalk.
There’s a four-way stop before they hit the apartment complex, an intersection riddled with potholes and streams running downhill at the curbs. Cloud effortlessly jumps over them, pausing for mere seconds as he crosses the street in his boots. Zack, on the other hand, has to choose which evil to step into: the ankle-deep waters right off the sidewalk, or the flowing water in the middle of the street that’s just high enough to fill the bottom of his sneakers. They’re already soaked through, but the discomfort is sticking to his skin, so he takes his time making long strides across the street before meeting a smiling Cloud at the other side.
“We’ll only get there sooner if you walk faster than the bus,” he says, elbowing Zack’s side.
“Hey,” Zack says, furrowing his brows in a faux pout. “I’m trying not to get washed away, alright?”
Cloud rolls his eyes as he starts up his brisk pace again, turning his back to the wind and throwing glances back to make sure Zack’s still on his trail. The rest of the walk is easy, through the parking lot and into the covered walkways to the numbered buildings, one after the other. If they stop to shake off, they’ll only get soaked again, so they trudge on.
“Aren’t you glad we got a unit on the opposite side of the complex?” Zack asks, sliding up to Cloud’s side.
“Yeah,” Cloud says, tightening his arms around his backpack. “That way we aren’t too far before you realize you forgot your phone.”
“That was once, ” Zack whines, pulling his jacket tight over his head.
In response, Cloud scoffs and lifts a shoulder as he walks into a low-hanging branch, effectively sprinkling water over Zack as they pass. “Once every week, you mean.”
Zack splutters, shaking water off his face as they finally make it to their building. They pause next to the stairs and assess the damage before heading up, wringing out sleeves and patting down their jeans, anything they can do so they aren’t tracking water and mud through the apartment. It’s a weak attempt at best, everything soaked through except for some of Cloud’s shirt and bag, but at least they won’t bring a river past the door.
The stairs are thankfully dry— until Zack goes up them, his sneakers pressing water out on each step— as well as their welcome mat, which they huddle up on as the cold sets in and Zack fumbles with the key. “The heater’s off,” Cloud mumbles, face against Zack’s shoulder. “We’re going to get frostbite by the time it warms up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Zack says, pushing open the door. It’s not freezing, but it’s not exactly the warm welcome they need at the moment, either. “Go shake out your bag, I’ll take care of it.”
Cloud nods sharply, kicking off his boots at the door and making small, quick steps to his room to avoid dripping all over the carpet. As soon as he shuffles into his bathroom, he drops his bag on the counter and starts peeling off his clothes. He’s soaked to the bone and shivering on the tile as he wrings out his clothes in the shower before attempting to towel-dry his hair. It’s beyond saving. He’s going to need a very long, very hot shower to feel human again.
But that has to wait, because his notes are probably soggy by now and their calculus exam is next week. Dragging himself back into his room, he carefully empties out his backpack, laying out his notebooks and folders. They’re in better shape than he thought. Small victories.
All of that done, Cloud throws on some dry clothes and gathers the sad lump that is his soaked outfit in a towel with his backpack. Zack’s probably already thrown his shoes in the dryer, which means the tiny pantry will be warm by the time he gets there. Perfect.
“Took you long enough,” Zack says. He’s leaning against the doorframe with his shoes dangling from his hand, still dripping water onto the tile.
“I thought you would’ve started already,” Cloud replies, swinging the towel full of clothes up to hold in both arms.
Zack catches the towel, pulling it— and consequently, Cloud— towards his chest with a wicked grin. “I did!”
Cloud laughs on a breath, pushing the bundle of clothes against Zack until he’s stumbling backwards. There’s a basket in front of the dryer with Zack’s wet clothes, but the dryer is actually running. “You do know the dryer doesn’t need a warm-up cycle, right?”
“Sure it doesn’t,” Zack says, pulling the damp bundle out of Cloud’s arms and into the basket at his feet. “But we do.”
With that, Zack hits a button to stop the dryer and pops it open like a new car. Cloud barely gets to revel in the warmth before Zack is leaning down to pull something— a blanket— out. “You’re a genius,” Cloud blurts out, holding his hands up to the fabric. Heat is radiating off of it like a wearable furnace. It’s the best thing Cloud has ever seen up until this point.
“I try,” Zack laughs, adjusting the blanket until he can wrap it around Cloud. “Now scoot so I can get our clothes in before they give up on us.”
The pantry is tiny enough already, let alone with two bodies and a basket inside it, so Cloud makes the most out of no space and jumps up onto the washing machine. He wraps the blanket around his shoulders, leaving plenty to hang over his legs so they’re not frozen solid either. The blanket is an old one of his— one he thought he had left back at his mom’s or got lost between moves. It’s in perfect condition, if not a little more worn than the last time he saw it. It smells familiar— like cologne and Sunday breakfast. Must have been in the hallway closet all this time.
Zack nudges the dryer door shut with his knee and starts it up again, breaking Cloud out of his warm daze. He lets out a breath with a smile, tapping his fingers on the top of the dryer. “How close do you think the bus is right now?”
“Far,” Cloud says with a grin. “We’d still be 20 minutes out if we waited.”
“At least we’d be dry,” Zack shrugs. “Warm, too.”
Cloud snorts, raising the blanket up and out towards Zack. “All you have to do is ask.” When Zack rolls his eyes and doesn’t budge, Cloud kicks his foot out to catch Zack’s hip and pull him in. He goes with a stumble, nearly headbutting Cloud’s collarbone and cursing the whole way down. “Better now?” Cloud asks, trapping Zack in with either corner of the blanket in his hands as he puts them on Zack’s shoulders.
It isn’t until they’re straightening up that Cloud notices just how close they are, and how his chest feels tight looking at Zack, and how Zack won’t look at him, and how loud the machine can be when there’s suddenly everything to say but nothing is being said.
“Hey,” Cloud says, just loud enough for Zack to hear. He rubs Zack’s shoulder with his thumb, a calm back and forth. “Easy.”
Zack lets out a nervous laugh that makes Cloud’s stomach flip as they look at each other. Cloud feels like he’s known Zack for all of his life and for none of it at the same time. It’s different, somehow. Just this once.
Maybe that’s why, unlike every other time, this time was so much easier. Cloud doesn’t realize he’s kissed Zack until he feels a cold hand at his hip and tears himself away. “I’m sorry, shit—”
Then he’s quieted as quick as he spoke, chapped lips perfectly fitted against his own. Another cold hand meets his other hip and Cloud makes up for it by bringing his arms closed around Zack’s neck, enveloping them in the warmth of the blanket and making a place just for them, just for this moment.
When they part next, Cloud feels dizzy. He’s smiling, eyes closed lest he fall right off the machine somehow, one of his hands pressed to the nape of Zack’s neck and rubbing through the damp hair that’s due for a trim. The hands at his hips, meanwhile, are cold fists, unmoving. Cloud realizes this belatedly, opening his eyes like he’s waking up from a dream. “Zack?”
“I don’t know what this is,” Zack says quickly, eyes still squeezed shut. Cloud starts his slow retreat until Zack jolts beneath his hands like he’s just come alive and looks up at Cloud, desperate. “I don’t know how…”
“It doesn’t have to be anything,” Cloud murmurs, sliding a soothing hand down to Zack’s elbow. “It can just be us.”
Zack lets out another laugh— bubbly, but still nervous all the same. It says enough, Cloud thinks, so he kisses him again. The hands at his hips melt into place, Zack’s shoulders finally falling as he lets himself breathe. There’s some sort of familiarity, somehow, in the way their smiles slot together like puzzle pieces, the way Cloud’s bony knee doesn’t phase Zack even when it’s digging into his stomach, the way neither of them can tell who’s giggling when they finally open their eyes again and wonder how the hell it took this long.
“You had to have done that on purpose,” Cloud teases, knocking his socked foot against Zack’s leg.
“I really didn’t,” Zack says, reaching up to grab the corner of the blanket— and, in turn, Cloud’s hand. “Just one surprise after another, I think.”
“No kidding,” Cloud says, lifting their joined hands to look at the blanket again. “I thought this was gone forever. Where’d you find it?”
“Um.” Zack’s nose scrunches up as he averts his gaze, ducking his head like he can hide somewhere behind the blanket. “In my closet.”
“Dude,” Cloud grins, squeezing Zack’s hand. “Are you serious? You’ve been hiding in your room cuddling my blanket all these years?”
“Shut up,” Zack whines, knocking his temple against Cloud’s.
“Oh my god,” Cloud laughs, swaying into him. He feels on top of the world. “You’re a dork,” he says, and punctuates it with a kiss to Zack’s cheek. The rain can’t be that bad, if he gets to warm up like this— now and every time after. Maybe he should forget his umbrella more often.