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Every light raindrop clattered quickly against the black tiles; a never ending drumming that made Dylan want to vanish. He could see all the trees nearby dancing to the roars of a gray sky, following the wind's uncoordinated rhythm. The afternoon had turned foul in the blink of an eye, the street swallowed in unrelenting gloom.
He stood still, taking the sight in. Countless puddles separated him from reaching the bus stop. A meaningless distance. Yet, he didn't dare to step out of the entrance hall that was keeping him safe—dry, at least.
He lost track of time as he stayed there, motionless, letting himself be tortured by the trickling. He should’ve stayed home; then none of this would be happening. He could put on his headphones—at least he wouldn’t have to hear any of it. Yet he didn’t. Maybe it was the looming thought that he didn’t deserve such grace; maybe it was the paralyzing effect storms had always had on him.
Moments blurred into minutes, gone by the tens. Maybe it had been an hour already; he couldn’t brace himself to check how much time he’d wasted scared. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for anymore; the rain only seemed to get heavier by the second.
He had to go home—before it got worse.
As he was gathering the courage to open his umbrella, he felt the doors of the building open. He instinctively turned his head slightly to the side, just enough to catch a glimpse of who could still be there at such an hour, on a day that invited everyone to flee home.
Dylan recognized him instantly; the new boy. Tall, tan skin and a god-like face that would drive anyone insane. Born to be the main visual. He arrived dangerously close to the start of class and overly bubbly. He managed to befriend Thame in a second and charm the coaches effortlessly. Dylan could only wonder how long that spirit could survive the trainee drama and a way too strict diet—nothing sucked someone's liveliness like counting calories.
Dylan grew uncomfortably aware as the boy stood next to him, right before the little roof of the entrance ended. He softly balanced himself before he turned to Dylan, offering a small smile.
‘Hey! You’re Dylan, right? I think we’re in the same class.’ His voice was velvety and somehow welcoming. Dylan ignored the way his brain short-circuited for a moment at the sound.
‘Mhmm, I am. I think we are, yes.’ He tried to sound cool and collected. Completely unbothered. Completely failing.
‘I’m Jun, nice to meet you,’ he answered before smiling even brighter.
Dylan’s heart stuttered. He had always been weak for pretty boys. Pretty didn’t even begin to describe Jun—he realized, now up close. Heavenly. Other-worldly. Impossibly beautiful. Maybe if Dylan was in a better state of mind, his brain would’ve already come up with lyrics about how beautiful his brown eyes looked even under the dark sky. But it was still pouring, so he could only admire Jun half-heartedly.
‘I doesn’t look like it’ll stop soon,’ Jun commented lightly after a brief silence. ‘Are you waiting for someone?’
‘Was waiting for it to stop,’ Dylan sighed, looking at the raindrops hitting the asphalt quicker than before. ‘But you’re right, I should go take my bus before it gets worse.’
He gazed down at the umbrella in his hand. Last storm, he had been going to that same bus stop, already overwhelmed and stressed, when his too flimsy umbrella had been turned inside out by a gust of wind —it wasn’t a surprise when he began to cry the moment he felt raindrops filtering through his hair and getting to his scalp. Naturally, now he was holding a new one—he had spent his whole allowance on a stupidly expensive windproof umbrella.
‘Wait! Are you going over there?’ Jun interrupted Dylan’s thoughts, doing some weird signalling of the two turns toward the bus stop. Dylan nodded, slightly confused. ‘I’m going there too! Could we maybe share your umbrella? I didn't bring mine.’
Oh.
Did Dylan need a witness to his freak circus? Definitely not. He knew that. He didn't like to be surrounded by people when it rained. Yet…
‘Sure,’ he whispered before his brain could actually process the question.
Oh well. He was about to embarrass himself in front of a pretty boy. What's new?
He looked down at his umbrella again, this time finally opening it as he hoped all the money he paid for it was actually worth it. He gazed towards Jun, who looked as ready as ever to face the storm.
It took Dylan a whole minute and two deep breaths to put the umbrella over their heads.
‘Okay. Let's go,’ he whispered, finally stepping outside, leaving the small hall's roof behind.
As soon as they're only protected by the umbrella, Dylan feels the cold wind tangle in his hair and against his cheeks. His jeans get wet with little drops that fall sideways enough to avoid the umbrella. He tries to shift it in order to get them covered better, but he realizes he's failed when he hears Jun whine.
‘Sorry. I'm trying but the rain is being weird.’
‘Don't worry,’ Jun answers as he gets closer to Dylan. ‘A few drops is better than getting soaked,’ he ended in an amused tone.
They walk at a steady but slow pace. Dylan focuses on keeping his breath even, trying to forget the raindrops’ drumming and the sudden thunders. But when a particularly loud one comes, he feels himself tremble and Jun notice. He doesn't say anything though. They just kept their pace.
‘Did you get into ONER long ago?’ Jun asked out nowhere.
‘Not really. Two months. You?’ Dylan answered as he tried to pay attention to the conversation instead of the thundering.
‘Ooh, that's so good! Long enough to get used to this life. I just got here today,’ he laughed. ‘I auditioned like 10 days ago and got in. How did you get to training?’
‘Um,’ Dylan let out as he skipped a puddle, getting closer to Jun in the process. ‘I got recruited when I was in my dance studio.’
‘That’s so cool! Did you already want to be an id-?’
‘Fuck,’ Dylan let out as he felt the wind destabilize the umbrella. It didn’t turn inside out—at least it was money well spent!—but it sure felt like it would fly away from his hands any moment.
‘Let me.’
That’s when he felt it; warmth amongst the coldness that ran through his body, kind courtesy of the freezing wind. It came in the shape of a hand laying on top of his, subtle and focused. And it spread to his chest. It wasn’t supposed to be anything else than Jun helping him wield the umbrella against the relentless storm. Yet Jun had a calming hold; it wasn’t harsh, just strong enough to be present—of course Dylan wouldn’t be able to forget.
It would take only a slight movement, Dylan spreading his fingers slightly for Jun’s to intertwine. That’s the only thing his brain managed to focus on for the rest of the walk.
He only realized they had arrived when he felt Jun’s hand go. It was almost like waking up back into reality.
Dylan became suddenly aware of everything. It took a second for him to register he was now under the safety of the small bus stop roof; that’s when he closed his umbrella. Then, he looked around. There didn’t seem to be many people around, barely any cars driving by and certainly no one walking. The rain had gotten lighter, now barely drumming against the street. The clouds looked lighter too, now a faint grey that allowed some sunrays to filter through. It was like he could finally breathe without having to think about it; it was almost over.
His mind would feel lighter too if it weren’t for his company. Only him and Jun, standing next—and way too close—to each other. He was grateful Jun, unwillingly and unknowingly, had helped him through the worst part of the storm. But now his presence, though still reassuring, brought a new sense of panic to Dylan.
Why was Jun so goddamn pretty?
And why was he still standing so close?
Dylan sure wasn’t going to be the one to put distance in between them, even if staying there meant his whole nervous system slowly melted.
Just as he was trying to come up with something to say, he saw his bus slowly approaching. It should be lucky timing—if only he didn’t wish to stand by Jun’s side a little longer. Maybe if it were any other day, he would’ve pretended that wasn’t his bus, but he knew how volatile the sky could be; even if it seemed like the storm was over, it could come back in full force in a matter of minutes. He shouldn’t risk it.
For the first time, Dylan was not enjoying the idea of going back home.
‘Is that your bus?’ Jun asked, having stared for too long had probably given Dylan away.
Dylan felt his body fill with dread as he realized there was nothing to be done anymore. He had to go. And yes, he would see Jun next class, it wasn’t the end of the world. But the moment, the intimacy—even if it existed only in his head—would be gone. Poof! Vanished into thin air. And Good knows Dylan was too much of a coward to ever approach Jun again.
So this was it. Just a moment; soon turned memory.
‘Yes. I guess this is where we part ways.’
‘Well, that’s my bus too. Unlucky for you, I can still annoy you for a while,’ Jun answered playfully. Dylan couldn’t help but let out a small smile.
When the doors of the bus opened, Jun motioned for Dylan to go in first. As he climbed the steps, he felt that warmth again, now in his cheeks and spreading down his neck. He might have slightly stumbled over his words when trying to get his ticket, but no one had to know that.
‘I’ll grab a seat,’ he muttered without even looking towards Jun before making his way down the aisle.
Uncommon for the hour, somehow the bus wasn’t packed; so Dylan took a seat in an empty double, just in case Jun actually wanted to sit next to him. The brief time it took Jun to gather his bills and walk towards him felt like an eternity. Dylan was already looking out the wet window—pretending he didn’t care if Jun sat by him or not. But when he finally felt Jun’s presence near him, Dylan softly released the air he had been holding in.
‘Long time no see,’ Jun joked while trying to look at his face.
All the trouble the storm created in Dylan's body was now subdued; being inside the bus made the clittering almost nonexistent, the wind's coldness wasn't stabbing his cheeks anymore and the artificial light made up for the sun being hidden behind clouds.
His rain-induced brain fog was mostly gone, so now he could actually talk to Jun and maybe get to know him.
But when he finally turned and saw Jun… goodness. Now that he could look at him clearly, face to face—not through the dance room mirror or under the darkness of the storm—Dylan was certain it was the only thing he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Pretty things deserved to be weirdly stared at anyway.
‘Hello again,’ Dylan answered, pretending not to be absolutely mesmerized by the sight. ‘What were you asking earlier?’
‘Um. I forgot,’ Jun said sheepishly. ‘But I want to know, what's your position? I saw you in class today and you were amazing.’
There it was again; the warmth creeping in. ‘Oh. Thanks,’ he answered shyly while looking away. Jun had no business being this gentle while carrying the most gorgeous face Dylan had ever seen; it was not fair. Jun with his stupidly pretty eyes and his damp hair and his stupid velvety voice that complimented him and drove him a little too crazy. Dylan was seriously fucked. ‘I used to have a dance group, but now I’m leaning more towards rapping and writing.’
‘Oh God! That’s so-’ Jun began before cutting himself with a small cough. ‘You must be great. You suit the rapper vibe, definitely. I didn’t know ONER had rappers anyway.’
‘I don’t think they did before me, but I guess they needed someone.’
‘Oh. That's so insanely cool, what. That’s like a guarantee to debut.’
‘Maybe? I don’t know. I agreed to get into training ‘cause I wanted to get my songs produced, but it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. If I get offered to debut, I might decline out of spite,’ Dylan joked. Well, maybe half joked. He wanted his songs produced and that’s something he made sure got written into his contract; but every time he turned in any lyrics they would get rejected, no explanation. So yes, maybe he was starting to get annoyed. He wanted to debut, but he wanted to be a song-writer too.
‘I can’t believe it! You’re the whole deal: rapper, dancer, writer and definitely a visual, too. I can’t believe they’re not appreciating you like you deserve,’ Jun huffed.
Dylan let out a small chuckle. ‘It’s whatever. What’s your position?’
‘I’m a dancer. Just dancer,’ he said, fake-upset.
‘Well, you’re a very good just dancer!’ Dylan complimented. ‘I saw you dance in class, you’re really good. Strong.’
‘Well, I've been dancing since I was little. Considering I don't know how to sing yet, it's the least I can do.’
‘Oh, please! I've seen trainees who couldn't dance or sing and still got signed ‘cause of visuals. Not only do you have amazing dancing skills, but they come with that pretty face; it's a blessing.’
‘Oii, so you think I'm pretty?’ Jun teased.
‘Of course you are, I have eyes,’ Dylan answered while looking away to hide himself.
‘Oh, you're shy now, how cute,’ Jun said, a smile evident in his voice.
Dylan might have started to consider throwing himself out of the moving bus and just walking under the rain just to not be in such a position. But of course he wasn't going to do that, so he went for his second-best option.
‘I'll sleep now. Goodbye,’ he ended the conversation before closing his eyes and resting his head on the upper edge of the seat.
‘Where do you get off? I'll wake you up.’
‘After three stops.’
Jun's answer came in the form of his hand gently pushing Dylan's cheek so his head was resting on Jun's shoulder.
Dylan thanked he was hidden in Jun's neck when he felt that warmth again. It was overpowering. He felt it in his chest; his heart started to go off beat. He felt it in his tummy; home of a thousand new butterflies. He felt it in his cheeks, one where the touch still lingered even after long gone, both feverish with shyness. He felt it in his mind; way too pleased with having someone care for him—someone who wakes him up, someone who lends a shoulder for him to rest on.
Dylan was already getting addicted.
“Going to sleep” started as just a way to avoid the embarrassment of being teased, but now he was incredibly enjoying it. Three stops didn't take much to go by; not enough for Dylan to actually fall asleep. He didn't even try. He just sat there, head tucked in the curve of Jun's neck, smelling his perfume.
Any other day, he would've been asleep by now. The bus’ gentle cradle, a comfy surface to lay on, the exhaustion of a whole day of classes and the stress of a thunderstorm were more than enough to knock Dylan out.
Today he was too busy with Jun. Feeling him all around him. Listening to his soft breaths. Thinking about him; the way he had held the umbrella—and his hand in the process—, all the compliments, the couple of times he had caught him looking at him through the dance room mirror.
Maybe it was nothing; just another person he met, thinking it might mean something just before the spell broke. But maybe… he could allow himself to hope. Or pray. Whatever kept Jun by his side past that storm.
Walking to the bus stop with an umbrella that wasn’t his was definitely not how Jun expected his first training day to end. He could lie and say he did everything just to be a good mate; making sure a fellow trainee got home safe.
But good mates don’t take the wrong bus just to spend time with someone.
Good mates don’t walk someone home under the storm.
And good mates definitely don’t slip their number into their mate’s pocket.
Truth is he was never one to resist a pretty boy. Now he had to take a bus all the way back to ONER so he could finally head towards his house.
Luckily, the umbrella in his hand was the perfect reason to talk to Dylan again the next day. That’s all that mattered.