Work Text:
Monday through Thursday Song Lan takes the same route to and from work. It’s boring by this point in his career. Nothing notable passes by and the traffic has been tolerable enough for so long… It’s all predictable which makes for a peaceful time to clear his head. However, on Fridays, he always takes an alternate route home. This route brings him past Lost Mountain Tea House. It’s small, easy to miss if you’re driving by; it’s the perfect quiet place to relax at the end of the work week. It’s clean, the music is calming, and the drinks are delicious.
The bonus? One of the Friday afternoon baristas is cute. Song Lan initially noticed this man because he towers over the other baristas and the equipment on the service counter. His face is easy to see from anywhere in the café. What makes it even easier is he lights up like stars in the night sky when he laughs.
This barista also stands out for wearing all-white. The rest of the staff wear blue jeans & a staff t-shirt, which Song Lan noticed was available in a rainbow of colors. This man chooses to wear head-to-toe white, and it makes a statement.
“Who willingly wears all-white in food service? He’s brave,” Song Lan thought during their first meeting. The man in white cheerfully took Song Lan’s order and made quick work preparing the best oat milk matcha latte he’s ever had.
It was always this way, every Friday, for almost a year.
“Song Lan, welcome back! Would you like your usual?” he would ask.
“Yes, Xiao Xingchen, thank you.” Song Lan would smile back.
--
This Friday, Song Lan expected no different, until a storm caused an area-wide power outage early in the afternoon. Not allowing a storm or power outage to break his routine aside from leaving work early, Song Lan took his usual Friday route home and passed by the darkened café. About one block later he peered through the downpour and caught sight of a man walking in the deluge… no umbrella or coat and soaked to the bone. His clothes were wet to the point their color was hard to discern as they clung to the wearer’s skin; what an unlucky man.
As Song Lan pulled closer, he realized who this poor soul was. He cracked the passenger window and shouted out to the drenched man.
“Xiao Xingchen! What on earth are you doing?”
Xiao Xingchen turned towards the car, his face dripping with misery; his shining demeanor practically washed away. That is, until he recognized Song Lan’s voice. Before he could respond, Song Lan parked the car and yelled for him to get in. Xiao Xingchen rushed to the door and climbed into the passenger seat with a small, trembling, “thank you.”
“Xiao Xingchen, what are you doing?” Song Lan asked as he adjusted the temperature in the car to something a few degrees warmer and began to remove his jacket.
“I… didn’t expect the rain… or the power outage.” He hung his head, “I thought I’d wait it out in the café, but Mianmian left. I let her take the last courtesy umbrella, and since the power was out… I got bored. I could only clean so much with no light. I decided my time would be better spent at home, and for a few minutes it wasn’t so bad to walk in this, you know?”
Song Lan let out a weighted chuckle, “I can’t relate to that feeling. Here,” he laid his jacket across Xiao Xingchen’s torso, applying a light squeeze to his shoulders to make sure it stayed, “do you have anywhere to be?”
Xiao Xingchen blushed at the physical gesture, “No. I was supposed to work, you know. I was going to go home and change, and warm up. I’m freezing.”
Song Lan gave his passenger a lingering up-down glance to see just how much of his body was shivering – “How about coming over? You can borrow something of mine.”
“Really? You would do that for me?” Light returned to Xiao Xingchen’s eyes, and his shivering seemed to lift away like fog on a late-spring morning.
“Of course. You can’t get sick; who would make my drink next week?” Song Lan joked as he turned his head forward and put the car in drive. Xiao Xingchen’s bright laughter filled the car as they continued towards Song Lan’s apartment.
--
“Here, these should fit you.” Song lan held out a pair of black sweatpants and an equally black t-shirt, “I’m sorry I don’t have anything in your color palette.”
Xiao Xingchen eyed the pile devoid of light, blinking rapidly as his eyes tried to make out any semblance of shape or texture, “Thank you… I owe you!”
“Don’t worry about it, really. Consider this repayment for anytime someone never tipped you.”
“But you always tip well!”
“You don’t owe me, Xiao Xingchen.” Song Lan smiled faintly as he handed Xiao Xingchen a black (and remarkably plush) towel before taking one last quick scan of Xiao Xingchen’s soaked form. He turned away, closing the door behind him, “please let me know if you need anything else!” he shouted back before making his way to the kitchen.
“This must be the cleanest bathroom I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I don’t even think a neurosurgery room could be this clean,” Xiao Xingchen thought to himself as he slipped off his soaked garments, patted himself dry with the plush towel, and changed into the inky pile of cloth he had been lent.
--
Minutes later Xiao Xingchen emerged into the kitchen where Song Lan was preparing their drinks. Song Lan was never more thankful to have a gas-powered stove than today.
“I almost didn’t recognize myself in the mirror!”
Song Lan froze as his eyes made contact with the cute man in his clothes. HIS clothes.
“Uh… Song Lan…? The tea…” Xiao Xingchen laughed as he watched Song Lan over-pour tea into a cup and flood the saucer.
“Right. Sorry. Um… are you comfortable? Does everything fit okay?” Song Lan grabbed the saucer to pour the excess tea into his own cup, not taking his eyes off his guest for as long as he could manage it.
“The fit is great! It is weird to be in such dark colors, but I’m comfortable! I am still a little cold though,” he sheepishly admitted.
“Ah. Well, here’s this” Song Lan handed the full cup on a fresh saucer to Xiao Xingchen, “I’m sorry it’s nothing fancy, but it’s warm. Have a seat on the couch. I’ll grab a blanket.”
As Xiao Xingchen sat and sipped the tea (“not bad,” he thought), he observed what he could see of the space. Pristine. Simple. And although it was small, it could comfortably suit 2 residents. After a few sips, he placed the saucer on the nearest table and sat back to fully settle into the couch. He closed his eyes and held the cup with both hands, savoring the warmth on his fingertips. He savored how quiet the world is without the hum of electricity and everything it powers.
His respite was enhanced as a warm blanket was laid across his lap.
“I can get more, if you need.”
Xiao Xingchen kept his eyes closed and placed one hand on the blanket, “No! This is perfect. It’s soft and warm,” he beamed. “And it smells nice, too,” he thought.
“It’s my favorite,” Song Lan heedlessly admitted. “Hopefully you won’t catch a cold. Not to insult your co-workers, but I think that place would fall apart without you.”
“You’re really too kind, Song Lan.” Xiao Xingchen finally opened his eyes as he felt Song Lan settle into the opposite end of the couch
They sat and sipped in silence for a few minutes until Xiao Xingchen’s grumbling stomach filled the air.
He looked away shyly as he felt Song Lan’s gaze land on him.
“Oh.” Xiao Xingchen blushed as he turned his face back to Song Lan, “I might have forgotten to each lunch today. Could I stay for dinner? I can pay.”
Song Lan attempted (poorly) to stifle a smile and - more enthusiastically than he himself expected - said, “of course!”
He quickly pulled out his phone to find any place open taking mobile orders, thankful for his typically strong self-control which stopped him from releasing the rest of what his heart wanted to say.
“You can stay forever.”