Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Collections:
Terrible Temperature Troubles August 2026
Stats:
Published:
2026-09-07
Words:
409
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
1
Kudos:
13
Hits:
115

i belong to the hurricane

Summary:

Rody, Vince, and The Rain: a reocurring trio.

Notes:

title from hurricane drunk by florence + the machine!

<3

Work Text:

A steady drip of rainwater is accumulating into a puddle under Rody. His collar is on the verge of choking him; the hand pulling it is rough against the skin of his throat. He shivers.

He'd gotten into an argument with Vince over something arbitrary at the end of his shift and stormed out. This shift has been exhausting, and he hadn't wanted to deal with arguing with a man who doesn't stop until he wins.

Only, he hadn't realized it was raining until the chilled water soaked him through in less than a minute. He'd steeled himself to brave the rain without an umbrella again, but a hand stopped him before he could.

Vince's nails dig slightly into his skin as he pulls Rory back inside. Just enough to make his skin ache at the touch, but mourn the loss of the warm from his hand as he steps away to asses Rody.

Vince stares at him in disdain.

"You're freezing cold."

Rody cocks his head. "I'm not that cold!"

He points to Rody's hand. "You're shivering."

"Wha-?" Rody lifts his hand to look at it, convinced he's going to disprove him, when he sees the tremor. "Oh."

"What did you do with the umbrella I gave you?" Vincent walks over to grab a towel from the closet. When he turns back around to face the man, Rody's teeth are chattering. He scoffs.

Rody shrugs. Vince throws the towel on his head, maneuvering him to sit on the floor, and sits behind him to start meticulously drying him off. He can't help but melt into the man as his hands run through his hair. When he makes his way down Rody's arm and to his hands, he pauses and looks up.

"Your fingers are turning purple."

He doesn't give Rody the chance to say anything else before wrapping his, surprisingly warm, hands around the other's. His hands feel almost too hot — boiling — compared to Rody's. Heat travels in suffocating waves between their connected skin. He can't help but suck in a breath.

It doesn't help when Vince's lips turn cocky at the blush in Rody's face. Nor when he tilts Rody's chin up and leans close enough to feel his breath on the others face. A remaining spark from their argument rekindles itself in the form of a burning that only eases when he clashes his lips against Vince's carelessly.

Well, that's one way to warm him up.