His breath comes out in short wisps of white. It is abnormally chilly for a spring night, almost wintry in nature. Burying himself further into his jacket doesn’t do much to bring warmth to his body, the cold air permeating the very thin cotton lining of his jacket. It would have been better to put on a bigger coat but he was rushing this morning, already fifteen minutes late for his vocal classes. The air didn’t feel as cold earlier when he was running the six blocks from his apartment to the campus.

The sky is overcast with clouds, giant mounds of white and grey signifying the eventual rain that is forecast to happen later in the day. Lu Han hopes it doesn’t start to rain until he gets back home but with his amount of luck today, it’ll probably start pouring down rain as soon as he stops at the next crosswalk. Sighing, he tucks his hands into the tight space of his pants pockets and hisses at the chill of the thin jean fabric against his hands. He curses his alarm clock for placing him in this situation. If the damned thing only went off at the time it was supposed to, then Lu Han wouldn’t have been forced to brace the arctic cold in his thin high school sports jacket and a pair of skinny jeans that may as well have been boxer shorts. It’s just so cold.

Sniffling slightly, he groans. Hopefully he doesn’t get sick. He has a small performance in two weeks and showing up to his lessons with a hoarse voice and bloodshot eyes will only make his professor hate him more.

“God, what I’d give for a coffee,” Lu Han says aloud, throwing his head back and sighing dramatically. It is only six in the evening but after all of the running around he’s done today, Lu Han is ready to go home, change into his special boxers, and sleep for twelve hours. Too bad he has a ten page paper to finish.

“Do you like espresso?” Flinching, Lu Han swivels around to see round yet tired eyes and cheeks reminiscent of chipmunks and dumplings. The guy in front of him is holding out a cup of coffee, the wisp of smoke rising from the hole in the cap very inviting to Lu Han. He’s not exactly fond of espresso but it’s caffeine and, really, that’s all that matters.

Nodding, and completely disregarding the fact that he’s taking coffee from a total stranger, Lu Han slips his fingers around the cup, sighing in happiness at the warmth that transfers to his hand. He glances at the other male through his hair and gives him a sheepish smile. “Thanks.”

The guy with the fat cheeks returns his smile and Lu Han is amazed at how it lights up his face despite how exhausted he looked just a second ago. He shakes his head. “No problem. The coffee shop gave me the wrong drink and I was just about to throw it out until I heard you.”

Lu Han can’t help but to chuckle, embarrassed, and turn his face to the ground to hide his warming cheeks. Who doesn’t feel embarrassed when they’re caught whining about life and making a fool of themselves in public? In his peripheral vision, Lu Han catches the other glancing at his cell phone before slipping it back into his pocket. It is then that Lu Han takes the time to actually look at the guy. Distressed black slim jeans conform to his slightly chubby figure; his navy blue sweater, in contrast, is loose on his frame, as if the sweater belongs to someone bigger and taller than him; and a blue plaid scarf is wrapped around his neck. Taking a sip of his espresso, Lu Han hums appreciatively. Whether he’s humming at the warmth of the drink or the style of the other male is questionable.

“Well, it looks like I have to go. Enjoy the espresso, Lu Han,” the other says and Lu Han nods, smiling around the rim of the cup in another wordless show of thanks.

With a small wave, Lu Han watches as the stranger crosses the street and disappears around the corner. He decides to continue on home himself and with a little more bounce to his step he starts walking again. Stopping at the end of the street to wait for the streetlight to change, Lu Han almost drops the cup in his hands.

“How did he know my name?”

By the time he reaches home, his hair is plastered to his face and he’s shivering. The rain decided to start just after Lu Han’s encounter with the guy who knew his name, the Espresso Guy as Lu Han has chosen to call him. Slipping off his shoes in the doorway, they squelch and plop and make other disgusting sounds. He drips water down the small hallway to the bathroom but he can’t be bothered with caring.

In the bathroom he slips out of his clothes, including his soaked and very uncomfortable underwear, and dries off. He leaves the wet clothes on the towel in the bathroom and walks back to his room au naturel. It’s his apartment he can do what he wants. In his room, he ruffles his hair and trots to his dresser, pulling out a pair of boxers and sleeping pants and putting them on. He doesn’t plan on going out again tonight or entertaining any guests. Falling onto his bed face first, Lu Han groans into his blankets. He’s cold but he’s too lazy to adjust the thermostat. He’s hungry too but he’s too lazy to get up and raid his fridge. Which reminds him … he needs to go grocery shopping. All he has is ramyun and banana milk.

He has a research paper he needs to finish for tomorrow but his laptop is all the way on the other side of the room on his desk and his bed is so comfortable. The cat shaped clock on the wall adjacent to his bed reads twenty minutes after seven in the evening. Reaching over he sets an alarm for two hours later. He’ll just take a little nap and then when he wakes up he’ll finish the paper.

Slipping under one of his many blankets, Lu Han snuggles into the warmth. As tired as he is, he’ll fall in sleep in no time. What he doesn’t account for, though, is the faint image of a gentle smile and chipmunk cheeks and the question of the identity of the person with that smile that tugs at the edges of his mind.

The next morning, he’s running late again, a result of falling asleep on the bus and missing his stop, and by the time he makes it back to campus his class has already been in session for thirty minutes. His professor isn’t all too happy to see him shuffle in with his head down and his arms tight against his body in an attempt to hide himself.

The rest of his class looks on with worried and sympathetic expressions as he’s lectured for the billionth time for being late. It’s really not his fault. He stayed up all night working on his research paper for his propaganda in film course. The only person at fault is the one who gave him that assignment.

Of course his vocal professor doesn’t see it that way.

“The next time you’re late to class, I’ll be forced to remove you from the showcase. You’re one of our better singers but if you can’t even come to class on time, how can I trust you to come to the showcase on time. Our status as one of the best arts schools in the country is riding on this showcase and we only have another two and a half months to prepare for it. You understand where I’m coming from, right?”

Lu Han doesn’t bother looking up and he nods, sighing. “Yes, sir.”

His professor pats him on the head. “You’re a good kid. Now go. Yixing has been in and out of some little dream world ever since he realized you weren’t here and I really need him to practice.”

For the next forty or so minutes Lu Han spends his time face-palming and snapping his fingers in front of Lay’s face in order to get him to focus but as soon as Lay gets lost, he never finds his way back to reality. He decides to just practice his parts of the song alone while staring at Lay who never acknowledges his presence. Lay has always been strange like this. Lu Han remembers when they first met.

It was in his sophomore year, Lay’s freshman year. Lu Han was running late (as always) to his dance class and as he turned a corner in the hall he found himself crashing into the younger male. Lay didn’t seem to notice. He just stayed sprawled out on the floor with his head down, until Lu Han tugged at his arm, worried and panicking about the boy he just bowled over and about being even later for his class. Lay brushed him off, saying that there was nothing for Lu Han to be worried about, that it was an accident and that it could happen to anyone. As it turned out, Lay was in Lu Han’s dance class as well and he had gotten lost (again) trying to find the room it was being held in. The two had walked to class in a relatively awkward silence, Lu Han fiddling with the hem of his shirt and gnawing at his bottom lip in fear of the glare his instructor was going to give him and Lay trying to memorize the number of tiles from where he fell to where the class was with intense concentration. Obviously, it was the start of a dynamic and very confusing friendship.

“Hey! When did you get here?”

Lu Han pauses in organizing his sheet music to look at Lay. The rest of the class has already filed out, moving onto their individual destinations. Not wanting to leave his friend sitting in here for however long, Lu Han decided to hang back for a little bit.

“I’ve been here for the past hour or so,” Lu Han says plainly, going back to putting his papers in order.

Lay nods his head, understanding. He checks out the room, finally noticing that they were the only two in the room.

“Is class over?” He asks.

“Obviously.”

“Was I zoned out the entire time?”

“Obviously.”

“I see.”

Smacking his lips together, Lay stretches his arms over his head, humming contently when his bones crack. He stands so he can bend over and touch his toes, continuing to stretch. Once he finishes his normal routine, he straightens up, placing his hands on his hips. The shuffling of paper is the only sound in the room, the two males acknowledging and ignoring each other at the same time. After a few minutes go by, Lay turns to find Lu Han halfway across the room, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Are you leaving me without saying anything?” Lay frowns, turning to the floor to search for this own bag.

“Obviously!” Lu Han shouts back and Lay can hear the playful smirk in the older male’s voice.

Hoisting his backpack over his shoulders, Lay turns to Lu Han who is already at the door. “I see.” He blinks, shrugging his shoulders and crossing the length of the room to follow his friend.