Author: ShiningRose

Pairing: Yixing/Luhan

Yixing really hates snow. It's white and blinding, and cold as . He's well-used to it, living in the cold. Mountains surround three-quarters of the valley he's always lived in. There's really no excuse then for getting stuck out in a freak snow-storm though. He's thirty-five with a couple aging parents and one sweet grandma living at home, and not enough lumber to keep them warm through the winter.

He shovels his axe into the snow pile. It's useless against tree trunks when he can barely differentiate between the ground, tree, and skies. Everything is white, blinding, and cold as . Perhaps his mind is frozen because that's literally all he can think about. It's sheer luck he's wandered onto his neighbor's property because the Lu's keep a hut out here for this very purpose. In case of bad weather, there are always buildings in which to find shelter.

The hut isn't very big, but it's out of the wind. Yixing barely gets the door open and barely gets it shut. There's a cold, metal lock to keep it from flying open, and he fidgets with that for nearly ten seconds, sure finally that it won't fling open and send another meter of snow into the cabin. Inside it's dark. Just a few high windows to let in the light and everything is that mixture of grey and white. It's cold, but marginally less colder than the outside world. At least inside he can pull off his giant winter jacket and prop it up on the floor for some padding. There's no telling how long he'll have to remain inside. The storm could last all day, all night, or it might be over in a matter of hours. Beneath his jacket he still has on the woolen shirt his grandmother sewed. Red and black checkers, and a warm pair of overalls. He slips the suspenders off his shoulders, throws his jacket into the corner of the cabin and prepares to hunker down and wait it out.

Then somebody tries the door from the outside. He doesn't know who, what, or why. But somebody wants in, and since Yixing bolted it from the inside, they apparently can't figure out why. He jumps off the ground, determined to save whoever it is that also requires shelter.

"I'm coming!" he yells through the door, hoping his voice carries through the wind gusts outside. The bolt is cold, resisting movement, but Yixing gets it open eventually, and then it's only the wind he's fighting as he pushes it outward. The door finally opens, taking up most of Yixing's strength, but when he sees the other straggler, his heart almost gives way.

"Luhan!" he yells, even as the the person ignores him, tiny furs-covered body flinging himself inside as soon as the door is wide enough. Yixing slams the door closed, fighting the wind and bolts again as a new gust of snow swirls through the opening, depositing along the floorboards of the creaking wooden cabin.

Only when it's secured does he turn around to find his shivering neighbor. Luhan's hood covers half of his face, scarf wrapped across his nose, and it's almost embarrassing that Yixing recognizes him by his eyes only. Thirty-five years he's known his neighbor, but for some reason they've never become friends. Maybe it's own embarrassment. Shy Yixing with his unwelcome crush. It's unheard of in these parts to be in love with a man, which is why he's never married and never dated. He's lived with his family his entire life, and never ever approached his neighbor for more than the barest of social pleasantries at village functions and harvest fests and spring dances, during which Yixing dressed him nicely as a wallflower and watched as Luhan danced with all the girls. Every year Yixing expected to hear the news of impending marriage. A man that flirted as much as Luhan was bound to get hitched sooner of later, and yet Luhan never did. Every girl he danced with married someone else, and now they were both affirmed bachelors. If they'd been friends, maybe he could have asked him. Maybe he would have asked him why Luhan always smiled so sweetly. Why his conversation was always so nice. Why his eyes sparkled and his voice tinkled like the glass held up for toasts.

"Yixing?" says the other now, Luhan wiping the snow from his face, scarf unwrapping slowly as he struggles to find his bearings.

"You... me... snow storm?" Yixing says stupidly.

Luhan smiles, and the part of Yixing's knees that aren't frozen stiff seem like they're about to melt. "Apparently so," he says.

Yixing shivers, remembering he's already taken off his outer jacket which is still warming the floor and he hastily moves toward it. Luhan's eyes follow his movements, and Yixing almost stumbles over his own feet as he catches the request in the other's eyes. Luhan too is shivering from the cold, from wherever's he's been out in the snow. Two souls lost in the weather, and what are the chances they meet like this.

"Can I...?" says Luhan. 

Yixing consents before his brain even catches up. He's frozen solid. So is Luhan beneath his jacket, only he goes a step farther and kicks off his boots before diving into the corner where Yixing's jacket already pads the floor. There's no other option but to join him. Luhan looks so small cuddling by himself, knees up to his chest and teeth chattering, so Yixing stoops downward to join him.

"What are you..." he starts to ask, before the question becomes moot. They're both lost in the storm, and it's Yixing intruding into Luhan's family's property.

"Just... trying to warm up."

"Mind if I help?" Yixing surprises himself. His words though are already seconds behind his actions, side to side, shoulder to shoulder with Luhan, the other's jacket offered as a blanket. 

"Please," says Luhan. His voice sounds just as tiny as his person right now. The wind howls outside, and when Yixing glances at him, Luhan's eyes sparkle curiously. 

He wonders... if maybe this is a pivotal moment. Whether now is the time to explore, ask questions, questions about why Luhan has always been so uncharacteristically nice to him before. All the supposed flirtatious statements. Did they mean something more, or was that just his personality.

Sharing warmth as they are now, minutes trailing into tens of minutes, into half hours into hours, Yixing can't tell. All he knows is that time passes with Luhan by his side and the wind rages outside, yet somehow they speak to each other no differently than before. Thirty-five years they've danced around each other. Yet when the storm settles down, they go their separate ways. Yixing to his home, and Luhan to his.

Perhaps he should have kissed him. Maybe it would have been warmer that way. Perhaps it would have lead to further things...

But the year is 1800 and Yixing has never heard of a man being in love with another man. It's probably just him. Why ever would Luhan think the same as him.

A/N Totally unbeta'ed and written while drunk. What is this. What pairing did I even write. I'm so confused.