Kyungsoo liked the rain. He liked the way it barely ever touched the glass, was barely ever there. It would hammer or float down during cloudy days and settle for a few brief hours before running or evaporating away.

Wandering around the apartment on floor boards with bare feet, he felt the heat from the dark, bitter coffee seep through the clay and up into his fingers. Through huge arcing windows, with panes that looked like they could fall out at any moment, he looked down onto the street below. Five storeys down, people in black coats hurried around; and every once in a while, a cab would mix with the swimming hatchbacks.

Somewhere, a little ways away, sirens mixed with the city sounds and he found himself resting a head against the window frame, curling into the corner of the windowsill that Jongin had helpfully built for him in better weather.

He took a sip of the coffee, relishing the warmth more than the taste. It’s not like it was particularly cold outside- summer was rearing its head but it seemed that, for a few days, cold had grasped the thermometers hanging by the doorway and forced them down. The apartment was also modern -- meaning there was a lot of space between the floor and ceiling and there was precious little white or blue furniture to fill it.

Taking a small black remote from his pocket, Kyungsoo decided to switch on the stereo. He didn’t mind the silence, occasionally interrupted by the creaking of settling floorboards or the giggles of the couples in lower apartments, but when he was waiting for Jongin to get home he always felt lonelier than he should do in the silence.

Some quiet music from an obscure artist started playing- somewhere along the way both Jongin and Kyungsoo’s music had mixed together- maybe in the second month?

With a sideways smirk Kyungsoo turned back to the street. Below, more and more people were milling about as they got off from work, eager to get home. Kyungsoo did like working erratic days at the bakery; it was always a surprise for Jongin to see him home before eight. Even the thought of those perfect eyes widened in surprise was enough to warm his chest more than the coffee ever could.

The rain kept changing direction- horizontal to vertical to dropping in vortexes. Following these shapes, his ears matched his eyes and he missed the quietened sounds of the door shutting.

A figure clad in rain and fake leather padded over to Kyungsoo, shoes removed and his breath caught in his lungs. In the window Kyungsoo caught the reflection of a figure for only a moment before-

“Hey baby.”

Soft lips met wet ones as Jongin kissed Kyungsoo, and the recipient kissed him back. Kyungsoo felt their tongues dance and eagerly breathed in Jongin’s scent. He suddenly started to feel cold spread on his chest, a sticky, damp cold that was spreading…

“Argh I’m all wet now, Jongin!” Kyungsoo tried to brush the water from his sweater, but to no avail, as it had already seeped in to the soft fabric.

“Haha! Rain transfer!” Jongin laughed, eyes moving into crescents as he stepped back to avoid the hand that reached out to slap him. He kept a smug -- Kyungsoo noted—smile right through walking back over to the entrance before hanging his coat up and ditching the sodden scarf.

“Well I can see someone’s going to be hungry for a long while.” Kyungsoo stiffly walked to the kitchen, leaving his mug on the side, trying to encourage the water to leave the wool on his chest. He found he really liked the open plan of the apartment- it meant he could glare daggers at his lover without a wall being in the way.

“Please no, I love you.” Jongin begged, eyes widened in shock.

“Say that to my shirt.”

“Please no, I love you, Shirt.”

“Very funny.” Kyungsoo pouted. Turning his back and taking out a pan.

“What are you making?” Arms quickly wrapped around Kyungsoo’s waist, dragging him into a warm embrace. The stereo softly played a piano piece and it seemed to fall to the floor before curling around the feet of the two figures.

“Well for those who are eating tonight, kimchi spaghetti.” Kyungsoo mumbled, enjoying the hug far too much for someone feigning anger.

“Great, I’m starving.” Jongin laughed, arms tightening almost imperceptibly with every breath he took. Kyungsoo gave up and smiled, laughing along.

Somehow, the rain always made things better. The smiles were a little more heartfelt and the holding of hands always a little more needed. The people moving outside became a little less important and what was inside became more so.

 Kyungsoo liked it when it rained- Jongin would always return to him when it did.