The thick blanket of rain drenched the city as the torrential storm raged on. It had been going for hours now, heavy drops pelting the windows. Another bright flash of lightning streaked across the skyline, illuminating the streets with a series of rapid bolts. Not far behind, the roar of thunder boomed, a foreboding echo looming in its wake.

Yuanfei curled up tighter. It was a violent storm, by far the worst one he'd encountered since moving to America, and it showed no signs of letting up. Crouched on the bedroom floor, back against the mattress, he sunk lower and ran a hand through his hair; mere moments after the last, he was already nervously anticipating the next eruption of thunder, hands tense and clenched. He took a deep breath and frowned tightly, irritated by his racing pulse. He had to get over this.

“... Are you alright?” A voice called out. Yuanfei's head whipped up. Katsuyuki stood in the doorway of the dark room, eyeing him with cautious confusion. Still hunched on the floor, he felt a little trickle of embarrassment.

“Oh--! Yeah, I'm fine,” He stammered. “It's just--” A bright flash illuminated the room. He winced, bracing for the sound. “I just... don't like storms, you know?”

Katsuyuki, raised an eyebrow. “I... see.” The rumble of the thunder tore through the apartment. Yuanfei, arms crossed over his knees, tensed up tighter and exhaled in a long, troubled sigh as he tried to steady his nerves. Katsuyuki tilted his head, bemused. “... It's that bad for you, huh?”

“Ah... maybe.” Yuanfei forced a nervous laugh.

Katsuyuki cast a quick glance back into the hallway; the others were out, leaving the entire apartment to themselves. He thought for a moment, before settling on an idea. “... Hey. Get up.”

“Hm?”

“Follow me.” Katsuyuki gestured, taking a couple of steps away from the doorway. Yuanfei shuffled onto his feet. Downstairs, tucked around the corner, he was led to a small, unassuming room: the walk-in linen closet, just large enough for the pair to occupy together. Katsuyuki opened the door. “Come on.” Yuanfei stepped inside, glancing back at his friend. “I know it looks strange,” He said with a hint of self-consciousness in his voice. “But trust me.” Katsuyuki pulled the door closed behind them. Grabbing the comforters and cushions from the top shelf, he assembled some makeshift seating on the hardwood floor.

Pulling his phone from his back pocket, he fumbled with it a moment before placing it on the shelf, and it rang out with gentle, classical music. Yuanfei was charmed; nothing he recognized, but the soulful warbling of a cello, in harmony with a soft piano melody, was disarming and soothing. He sat on the cushions, back against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest again. Katsuyuki knelt down next to him.

“What is that? The song.”

“Le Cygne. Saint-Saëns.”

“I like it.” Yuanfei had a touch of awe in his voice.

“Yeah. I used to like it too.” He shrugged. “The feeling wore off after rehearsing it so often.”

His interest was piqued; he unfurled from his defensive posture a little, turning to face Katsuyuki. “Rehearsing? What did you play?”

“Violin.”

Yuanfei's eyes lit up. “Wow, violin? That's so cool. I'd love to hear you play.”

“Hah, well... I'm not great. I didn't get much further than the minimum expected of me. Nowhere near the level of this.” He gestured with his phone.

“It's not like you to be modest, Yuki.” Katsuyuki smiled, glancing away around the room, as though trying to busy himself with his surroundings. It wasn't like him to be bashful, either – but, then again, a serious guy like him probably wasn't the sort that was used to getting earnest compliments.

“I was hoping it wouldn't feel so claustrophobic in here,” He muttered, exhaling a brief, self-conscious laugh. “It was supposed to be relaxing, but maybe it's more like being locked in a bunker.”

“No, Yuki, it's fine.” Yuanfei smiled. “It's kind of nice, actually.” For what it was, the setting was surprisingly cozy, and strangely comforting; the laundry left the closet with a fresh, pleasant scent, and the overhead light was soft enough for a warming glow. With its limited size, the space had taken on an intimate vibe.

“That reminds me, I was meaning to give you something.” Katsuyuki got to his feet. “I'll be back in a second.” He softly closed the door on his way out. Yuanfei was left alone with his thoughts once more.

How long had it been now...? A minute, maybe two. He pushed his back against the closet wall. There was another round soon, surely – and he couldn't brace for the thunder now that he couldn't see the lightning. He drummed his fingers on the floor in anxious anticipation. That was half of it – not just that blinding flash, that awful sound, but the sheer waiting, knowing that it was coming, whether you were ready or not.

Right on cue, another rumble echoed outside – but a little more subdued, it seemed. In that moment, Katsuyuki's plan made sense; the closet, windowless and towards the inside of the building, was more shielded from the storm outside. The sheets and towels stacked on the shelves, along with the deep melody of the cello, dampened and masked the noise further. Katsuyuki had found him a perfect little hideout from the storm. It was secluded, safe from the harsh cacophony of the outside world, just big enough for the two to share together.

“Here.”

Yuanfei looked up. Closing the door behind himself, Katsuyuki sat back down next to him. There was a sleek black box in his hand, embossed with bronze logo. He slid off the cover to uncover a tray of chocolates, each uniquely designed and beautifully decorated. “A gift from a client. I'm not interested in eating them myself.” Yuanfei peered into the box, intrigued. They were immaculate– perfectly crafted, like tiny sculptures – and far more sophisticated than any thing he'd ever eaten. Katsuyuki held out the box. “Help yourself.”

“You sure?” Yuanfei leant forward, curiosity taking hold, and he picked one out of its compartment – dark chocolate, dressed with delicate crimson ribbons and finished with a shard of gold leaf.

“We worked on a new campaign that helped them surpass their fiscal forecast-...” He looked up at Yuanfei's increasingly blank expression. “... We helped them make a lot more money this year. A lot more than their target.”

“Huh. And they gave you this to say thanks?” He bit into the chocolate. “That's nice of them, I guess.”

Katsuyuki smiled. “It doesn't look like much, sure - but it's worth more than you'd think. Ninety, maybe a hundred dollars.” Yuanfei paused, and dread set into his eyes. He'd just chewed up ten dollars in seconds. What was he supposed to do now? Spit it back out? His shoulders slunk in shame.

“... I'm sorry,” He stammered. “I wouldn't have taken if I knew...” Katsuyuki rolled his eyes.

“Don't be stupid. If I didn't want you to have them, I wouldn't have offered.” He put the box down between them. “Have as many as you want.”

“It's okay. This was more than enough.”

Katsuyuki sighed. “Shut up.” he nudged the box towards Yuanfei. “Make another excuse and I'm going to start force-feeding you.” Yuanfei smiled, sighed and reluctantly took another.

“Why would chocolate be so expensive anyway?”

Katsuyuki shrugged. “Honestly? It's just a pretentious company. A lot of the clients we work with are like that.” Yuanfei grinned. For someone with a reputation of such conceitedness, Katsuyuki was surprisingly down to earth. It was a shame Yuanfei seemed to be the only one to see it.

A powerful, foreboding crash of thunder echoed through the sky. The closet dampened much of the sound, but the deepest tones still rumbled through. He tensed up, body rigid, as the thunder boomed in the near distance; it was getting bigger.

Or nearer.

“Hang in there, Fei.” Katsuyuki inched a little closer to him, as if to shield him from the outside. Yuanfei pushed his shoulder back in response, so the two were resting against each other. It was only a light touch, but enough to provide a little extra comfort. Katsuyuki took his phone from the shelf for a quick search. “I don't think it's going to be much longer. I can check.”

Another roar of thunder rang out. Yuanfei gritted his teeth.

An arm nimbly slipped around his wrist, the hand gently clasping his own. Yuanfei's breath caught in his throat; it was happening again. The hand-holding. Katsuyuki didn't look up, keeping his eyes on his phone as though unaware of what he was doing. But it was feigned indifference, it seemed; hard to tell with someone like him, but the apathy came off a little too forced to be truly genuine – perhaps as an attempt to save face, to mask his nerves. Yuanfei didn't mind – he wouldn't make a point out of it, especially if it meant getting to enjoy this secret privilege.

These occasions were still rare, but felt increasingly natural each fleeting time it happened – though it still gave Yuanfei a nervous, giddy fluttering in his chest every time. Sometimes, Yuanfei would ever so lightly brush the back of his hand against Katsuyuki's, a finger lightly, subtly nudging for attention, and Katsuyuki would oblige. And sometimes, that hint wasn't even needed – Katsuyuki would take the first step entirely unprompted, reaching for his hand with a delicate grip.

“Looks like the storm's heading east now,” Katsuyuki muttered, holding out his phone with his free hand. “See?” Yuanfei peered at the map on the screen. He couldn't fully parse the details - some kind of weather map, with a swirl of colors and numbers and sweeping lines – but Katsuyuki's assessment seemed about right. “That red spot is the strongest part, but it's moving away – the worst of it is probably going to pass by without coming directly overhead.” Yuanfei meekly nodded. Katsuyuki glanced up. “It'll be over soon.”

Nerves frayed, he squeezed Katsuyuki's hand. In response, Katsuyuki tilted his head to the side, gently resting it against Yuanfei's. He continued idly clicking around on his phone.

“So, what happened to get you so scared of storms?”

“I don't really know. A couple years ago, there was a big one back home, and... I don't know. It just got to me.” He sighed wearily. “I feel kinda dumb talking about it. I know they probably can't hurt me, but...”

“It's just a phobia. Nothing to be embarrassed about.” Katsuyuki leant closer into him.

“Hm... Maybe.” Yuanfei fiddled with a loose thread from the hem of his sweater. He hesitated for a moment, then spoke again in a quiet, nervous tone. “Well... It was late, and I was out, and I just wanted to be home... And there was a huge storm that started as I was coming back – bigger than any I've seen.”

He stared off into an empty middle distance. His expression was blank, save for a little twinge of discomfort knitted into his brow. “It was right over the town. And it was so strong. I didn't have any money with me, so I couldn't get a ride. I just had to run. I was cold, and wet, and I just wanted to get home.”

He looked upward, as though watching the memory unfurl before his eyes. “There was this massive lightning, so close to me – and the thunder, it was instant. So loud. And-- I don't know. I just panicked. I tried to find somewhere to hide, but there was nowhere to go. All I could do was wait for it to be over.” His body slumped; he hadn't noticed how tightly he'd been carrying himself. “I don't know. Ever since then, they get to me.”

Katsuyuki was intently watching him now, phone long forgotten.

“Hm. That sounds pretty rough.”

“Like I said, I know it's kinda dumb.” Yuanfei smiled awkwardly.

“Everyone's scared of something... Or someone.” He added softly. Yuanfei peered up at him with curious eyes. Katsuyuki caught his gaze, and abruptly brushed off his concern. “Oh-- it's nothing. Forget it.” Yuanfei hummed softly, seeing the weakness through his guarded exterior, but understanding that that was perhaps a conversation for another time. “I just wanted to let you know that you're not alone. Even heartless assholes like me know how you feel.” The sentiment brought a smile to Yuanfei's lips.

“At least we're both safe in here, right?”

“Hm. I guess so.”

There was another rumble of thunder – much softer this time. Katsuyuki was right; the storm was passing. Still on edge, but relief starting to break through, he gradually relaxed his posture, unfurling his legs away from his chest.

“You doing alright?”

“Yeah,” Yuanfei sighed. “I will be.” He smiled light-heartedly, but there was a subtle pensiveness in his eyes. “Thanks, Yuki. This means a lot to me.”

Katsuyuki's expression was one of gentle warmth. Tentatively, Yuanfei leant forward just a little. Katsuyuki didn't move away, but turned his head a fraction to meet Yuanfei's in response. That openness was the sign he was hoping for; and, with a little trepidation, he closed the gap between them, placing a brief, light kiss on Katsuyuki's cheek. As he pulled away, their faces so close the were almost touching, Yuanfei wondered - if only for a second – if he would allow him to...

He pushed the thought back down. Best not to try. He had been gracious enough already to allow a brief kiss like that. Flustered and blushing, Katsuyuki cleared his throat, trying to reclaim control of the situation. “Any time,” He said offhandedly. He got to his feet and opened the door. “I guess we should...” He trailed off, gesturing loosely towards the exit. And, with that, he disappeared out of sight. Yuanfei followed, leaving the comfort of the closet behind. The living room was cold in comparison – empty and soulless.

The rain was little more than a soft murmur now as the heaviest storm clouds rolled towards the horizon. Katsuyuki wordlessly drifted into another room, his frosty demeanor back in place as a shield from the unforgiving outside world. Just like the brief, intimate moment they had shared in the closet, the storm was carried away on the wind, to become nothing more than a passing memory.