Follows: From Grey Skies
How he’d managed to get caught up in a whirlwind of awkward compliments and fashion tips and offers of food, Yuuri had no idea. He hadn’t even done anything aside from stand out in the rain and got soaked to the bone by some driver who hadn’t been paying attention, or had been and did it on purpose.
He was still uncomfortable in his soaking wet jeans, and he still clung tightly to his bag, making a face when Adrien grabbed onto his wrist to pull him to his feet.
“W-wait, I. Shouldn’t. Sorry, pardon us. So sorry, he’s not paying attention. Adrien, wait. It’s just,” he couldn’t figure out anything to say properly, stumbling and stopping over words as much as he was stumbling over the people Adrien trampled on as he reluctantly followed Adrien off the bus. And into the rain again.
“Adrien, really. I feel gross and wet and it’s really nice of you to offer,” he tried saying as he still allowed himself to be pulled along, glancing around to see if there was anyone who would help him or save him or. Anything. But it didn’t seem as though it was in the stars for him.
So naturally, he had no choice but to follow along, allowing himself to be brought to the salon Adrien told him about.
How he’d managed to get caught up in a whirlwind of awkward compliments and fashion tips and offers of food, Yuuri had no idea. He hadn’t even done anything aside from stand out in the rain and got soaked to the bone by some driver who hadn’t been paying attention, or had been and did it on purpose.
He was still uncomfortable in his soaking wet jeans, and he still clung tightly to his bag, making a face when Adrien grabbed onto his wrist to pull him to his feet.
“W-wait, I. Shouldn’t. Sorry, pardon us. So sorry, he’s not paying attention. Adrien, wait. It’s just,” he couldn’t figure out anything to say properly, stumbling and stopping over words as much as he was stumbling over the people Adrien trampled on as he reluctantly followed Adrien off the bus. And into the rain again.
“Adrien, really. I feel gross and wet and it’s really nice of you to offer,” he tried saying as he still allowed himself to be pulled along, glancing around to see if there was anyone who would help him or save him or. Anything. But it didn’t seem as though it was in the stars for him.
So naturally, he had no choice but to follow along, allowing himself to be brought to the salon Adrien told him about.
Adrien, in true Adrien fashion, didn’t listen to Yuuri’s protest, or the disgruntled comments of the foot-stepped-on-people. He continued down the path until he was at the steps, and he towed his new companion off of the infernal thing that was the bus with a certain amount of relief.
Public transport. No wonder he always tried to walk everywhere.
Adrien’s fingers were still wrapped securely around his new friend’s wrist, and he all but dragged him down the wet sidewalk, fumbling with his umbrella as he did and throwing it up over himself and at least half of Yuuri to keep the rain off of them both (or himself and a half, rather).
“Don’t worry, it’s just up here - there, see?’
Adrien pointed at a storefront half a block away. It was - surprisingly - a modest pale blue in color, with a striped blue and white awning and a sign above that read, in blocky blue letters: Snippity Do Dah.
“It’s great, right?” said Adrien cheerfully, and tugged Yuuri down the last short distance and into the building.
The shop itself wasn’t large, but it was beautifully - and probably expensively - decorated, everything minimalist and modern with glossy white surfaces and bursting, blooming flower bouquets. Adrien was already shedding his dripping coat, hanging it on a black coat rack near the door, shucking off his boots as well and throwing his umbrella along with the rest. Underneath, he was wearing a white turtleneck sweater with some sort of splashy blue design on the front and designer jeans.
“Let’s go, here, back here,” Adrien said, gesturing. “Come on, you can just toss your stuff there.”
Yuuri eyed the store front with skepticism, but didn’t really have much of a choice other than to be dragged along by an over enthusiastic hair dresser, or whatever Adrien claimed he called himself. Well, Yuuri supposed he could always tell the other no or to let him go, but he didn’t have the heart to break Adrien’s.
Or something like that.
He stepped inside and looked around at the setup, not at all surprised by the high end looking fixtures and decorations and glossy counters and huge mirrors and… all of it.
Despite the suggestion, Yuuri did not just toss his stuff there. Instead he simply eyed where Adrien gestured and clung a little tighter to his bag before slowly, carefully, slipping it over his head and down his arm, very warily placing it down, and reached down to tug at the hem of his soaking wet sweater to pull up and off, already shivering in an equally wet button down.
After one last glance at his computer bag, he turned to shuffle after Adrien, wondering to himself how the hell he ended up there…
Adrien waited semi-impatiently for Yuuri to set his things down; even with the high-end feel of the salon, Adrien had no qualms about just dropping things onto the ground, half because he was head stylist here, and half because it was a family owned salon anyway and that was what the receptionists were for.
“This way!” Adrien chirped pleasantly when Yuuri was (finally) done. He reached out and latched ahold of the other’s wrist again, half dragging him past the front desk, then down a middle aisle of salon chairs, at least half of which were occupied with people getting their hair done.
“Adrien, babe,” shouted a tall, black woman standing at a chair near the back, long braided hair swinging as she snipped off several inches of her client’s auburn locks. “Who’s your friend?”
“Classmate!” came the cheery reply, even though Adrien hadn’t been in classes for the last year, and Delta knew it full well, because she gave him a pointed look as he towed Yuuri past the sinks to a door in the back.
Pushing it open revealed a back lounge area clearly meant for staff breaks - currently empty - and an office off to the side with glass windowed walls. A staircase was at the very back, and it was here that Adrien pulled Yuuri, up until they reached the top and the black door on the landing.
“Ta-da!”
Adrien flung open the door to reveal a reasonably sized flat in stark contrast to the pristine salon below. It was decorated to the nines in elegance and modern touches - except where the salon was determinedly clean, the flat was not. Dishes were piled in the sink, looking several days old, clothes were strewn across the bare hardwood floors, and several heaps of various art supplies were stacked here and there.
The television was also still on. Adrien kicked aside a glimmering silver something and hastily turned it off.
“Make yourself at home!” he said, turning back to Yuuri, a wide smile on his face. “I’ll grab you something dry to wear.”
He disappeared into an equally cluttered bedroom.
Yuuri’s eyes were wide as he peered around at everything as he was dragged through the building, trying to ignore the looks they were getting from both the stylists and clients getting their hair cut and styled, Yuuri feeling more and more like a drowned rat in this place of fashion. He liked to think his clothing choices weren’t horrible, but they definitely didn’t have any personality to them. Not really.
He tried taking in the sight of everything, the woman speaking to Adrien, the break room, the offices, and then he was dragged up a flight of stairs and --
Led into the filthiest apartment that he’d ever laid eyes on.
Yuuri gaped at the dishes and junk everywhere and clothing and art supplies and just. How did anyone live in a place like this?? He turned to stare in shock at Adrien as he went to get himself something to wear. Make yourself at home he supposed was enough of an invitation for Yuuri to carefully make his way over to the couch, pick up the blanket that had been thrown into a heap on the ground, and gently shook it out so he could fold it and place it over the back.
A couple pillows were picked up too. And while he was doing that he eyed some probably days old cups (thankfully empty) of whatever sitting around. He gathered those up too and carried everything to the sink. And stared in exasperation at how filled it was.
How the hell did anyone live like this??
Adrien seemed not to notice that he was getting all sorts of wide-eyed looks from Yuuri at the state of his apartment. It wasn’t like he was living in complete and utter filth, even if he hadn’t exactly taken out the trash in several days and the laundry was piling up for a few weeks...or months. He just liked to go out and do things instead of taking the time to tidy up, that was all.
There were better things to occupy his time. Like cute girls and cute boys and hair styling and clothes and the Negaverse and General Obsidian’s very nice behind and basically everything that was not cleaning.
Adrien reappeared several minutes later with a few articles of clothing heaped over one arm.
“Here!” he said brightly to Yuuri, not even seeming to question why the other was in his kitchen, of all places. Adrien held up a red button down shirt, a pair of black jeans, a golden orange scarf, and a black vest in a dramatic sort of wave.
“Change into these, just throw your wet clothes in the bathroom, you’ll feel better once you stop looking liek a half drowned cat.”
Adrien Francis Davids, king of tact, everyone.
As much as he hated to admit it, Adrien was most likely right in that Yuuri would feel better once he was out of his wet clothes. He wasn’t too sure how to feel about the bright colors being offered to him, but gratefully took them anyway.
“Thank you,” he said as he carefully draped them over his arm and peered around Adrien to see where the bathroom in question was, before taking a few cautious steps in the direction, and when he wasn’t told otherwise, continued on and quietly shut the door behind him.
Not that he didn’t think Adrien was a nice guy and all. He just didn’t think he wanted to give Adrien a chance to judge him while he was changing.
Although it was definitely not what he would have picked out himself, Yuuri pulled off his wet clothes and pulled on the black jeans and tucked in the red button down and pulled on the vest. He wasn’t sure what to do with the scarf, so he left it hanging around his neck as he leaned down to roll up the cuffs of the overlong pant legs. Surprisingly, other than height, he and Adrien seemed to be mostly the same size. He wasn’t sure what to do with his shoes and socks since they were soaked too, but ended up leaving them in the bathroom as instructed.
Yuuri took a few steps out of the bathroom to head back towards the living room, trying to adjust the cuffs of the shirt so the sleeves didn’t look so baggy on him, which he also blamed on Adrien’s height. At least he did feel a bit better now.
The bathroom was, perhaps, out of all the rooms in the place, the least messy and the least cluttered. In fact, it looked almost pristine, everything shining and glossy, the double sink almost obscenely large for a single person to actually use.
Adrien himself waited out in the living room, tossing clothes here and there. He was still wearing what he’d been in before, and when Yuuri emerged, Adrien had an armful of cloth in varying colors heaped high in the circle of his arms. He turned to look at the other, and he let out a yelp of pleasure, tossing the clothes up into the air and scampering over to where Yuuri stood.
“See?” he said glowingly, “I was right. These colors are perfect for you. Bright and sunshiney and warm, you’re definitely a fall, with a touch of summer. Come on this way, I’ll do something with that hair of yours.”
Fingers encircled Yuuri’s wrist as Adrien towed him towards the couch. “Do you wear contacts or anything?”
Whatever he’d been expecting, Yuuri hadn’t expected a yelp and shower of clothing. He started in shock at the other man, too frozen to even think about taking a step back in self preservation. He wasn’t too sure about the whole sunshiney and warm bit, since Yuuri himself had been told he was rather dark and gloomy on more than one occasion, but he wasn’t as into fashion as Adrien was.
Do something with that hair of yours made him balk, although he had little choice but to follow Adrien as he grabbed at his wrist again and pulled him to the couch.
“I wear contacts,” Yuuri admitted, although he continued to stare skeptically at the man, gently twisting his wrist away from him. “Why are you doing this?” he forced himself to ask, understanding it would be one thing if Adrien had him downstairs in the salon to get his hair styled, but to be dragged up into his personal apartment was, well, no one had ever done that before, so Yuuri had no idea how to react.
“You don’t even know me. You’re letting me borrow your clothes, you’re bringing me to your salon, your apartment…” he said, opening his mouth to continue but was starting to distress himself and shut his mouth and lowered his eyes in shame for questioning the kindness of others.
Adrien put both hands on Yuuri’s shoulders and forced him down onto the couch.
“You’d probably look cute with glasses too, but I like the contacts, you can do so much more with your hair when it comes to contacts,” he said, almost distractedly, Adrien reaching around to pull open the drawer of a table beside the couch. He pulled out a pair of shears, a comb, and then, from the floor, whisked up a length of a towel that he slung around Yuuri’s neck, patting it into place.
The question, however, caught him off guard. Adrien paused with both hands in the air beside Yuuri’s head, one hand holding the shears, the other the comb. He stepped back, peering at the other, and flashed a bright, cheerful smile at him.
“I like to make people feel good,” he said simply. “And I like to make people look good. You, darling, looked like a half drowned rat the first time I saw you - “ Twenty minutes ago. “ - and now I want to make you all dolled up. It’s as simple as that.”
The shears were poked under Yuuri’s chin to tilt his head up just a tiny bit.
“Now keep still, I don’t want to cut off anything I shouldn’t be.”
I like to make people feel good.
Yuuri stared at Adrien with wide eyes, unable to really understand why something so simple was enough to make him feel like the air was pulled from his lungs. Maybe because he wasn’t used to it. People usually only did things that put them farther ahead in life, at least from his experience. So for someone like Adrien, who he’d only met about twenty minutes ago to say something so open like that to him, and therefore probably anyone, was startling in a way Yuuri hadn’t expected.
There was nothing else to say after that. Even with the comment of him looking like a drowned rat (which he agreed with), or wanting to make him dolled up (which wasn’t necessary), Yuuri kept his mouth shut and lifted his chin when Adrien prompted him to do so.
He held still as best he could, but fidgeted somewhat under the towel, his hands twisting around the other, picking at his nails, twiddling his thumbs. He hadn’t asked for this of course, and he was a little concerned that Adrien was going to do something absolutely ridiculous with his hair, but Yuuri didn’t have much of a choice other than sitting there and waiting.
Clearly no one had ever done anything nice for this poor boy in years. Or ever. Adrien made a face at the expression on Yuuri’s own face, giving his head a small shake.
“All right, darling, chin up and hold still,” he said airily. “And don’t give me those puppy dog eyes, you’re perfectly all right. I can tell that you’ve never had this done before, well, I’m sure we’ll make this okay - I am a professional, after all, and I’m not going to give you a giant mohawk or buzz all of your hair off or anything, so don’t fret your cute head.”
Adrien contemplated his newest project for a moment, then snipped away, hands moving quickly and efficiently. This was his element; this was what he knew how to do. He liked to think he was good at a lot of things, that was true, but this was what Adrien thrived off of for a reason.
He was only giving him a trim, true to his word. Yuuri had the sort of longish, sleek black that felt like silk in Adrien’s hands, and it wasn’t going to do anyone any good to chop it all off. He hummed a little as he worked, shifting hair here and there, and snipping off a few more strands, a look of concentration on his face.
At last, probably ten or fifteen minutes later, Adrien pulled back, a satisfied expression overtaking his features.
”Perfect,” he said happily. Adrien twisted around, reached under a pile of clothes on the table, and tugged out a hand mirror, which he presented to Yuuri with a flourish.
“See, sweetling?” he said brightly. “Haven’t done anything except give you a bit of a trim and you look marvelous.”
He wasn’t entirely sure what to think when Adrien promised not to give him a mohawk or anything crazy, figuring he already had no choice but to trust him, anyway. Even if he didn’t trust him, Yuuri wouldn’t have done much to fight against him doing whatever he wanted to his hair, anyway.
It wasn’t so horrible. Not like what Yuuri had expected, anyway. He’d had his hair cut before, but not in a while and it was probably obvious that he was starting to look a bit scruffy. And Adrien was a professional, after all. Right? That had to count for something.
Once everything was over and done with, and Adrien passed him the mirror, Yuuri was almost too nervous to look, but held it up to see, blinking in pleasant surprise at the trim Adrien gave him. He didn’t look bad. Okay, he actually looked pretty decent. He didn’t think he would go as far as Adrien in calling it marvelous but it was something.
“Thank you,” he said softly, lowering the mirror to his lap to look up at this… strange man who had followed him onto a bus and dragged him to his salon. Er, his apartment. It was definitely the nicest thing someone had done for him in a while, although he was certain this was just who Adrien was. He liked making people happy, after all.
“Let me repay you. I can help clean up for you,” he offered, because… well, Adrien’s apartment was so cluttered it made him anxious just looking at it all.
He hadn’t done anything drastic, in all honesty. Just trimmed off some of the edges and then made sure that it framed Yuuri’s face nicely. The other was reasonably attractive; and Adrien didn’t want him loping around with half of his face hidden if he had eyes like that, or a set of cheekbones that could turn anyone’s eyes. He was very satisfied with what he’d done, Adrien putting his hands on his hips.
“You’re welcome,” he said brightly, and then waved a hand. “I don’t need thanks, or whatever, just come back and see me. Like, really, you can come here anytime.”
The offer to help clean his house had Adrien blinking around in confusion at his less than tidy surroundings, his gaze flickering from the heaps of clothes to piles of supplies to the dishes in the sink.
“What are you talking about?” Adrien asked blankly. “Clean up what?”
Clearly he saw nothing wrong with anything.
Yuuri stared at Adrien, shaking his head just slightly at this helpless man who either really didn’t think there was anything wrong with the mess in his apartment, or was too busy catering to others to care. Unless there were ulterior motives that Yuuri couldn’t see, he was concerned that the world would easily take advantage of this man.
Not that he thought he should care, because they didn’t even know each other, which was another reason why Yuuri was confused by the offer for him to come by any time. Maybe this was just a promotional thing; Adrien brought people back to do a quick trim and then he would be able to keep more recurring customers. Or something like that.
Carefully, so as not to get any more of the bits of hair onto the couch or floor, Yuuri collected the towel and folded it up with the hair inside so he could shake it out over the trash can (unless that was full, too), and stood from where he was sitting.
“Don’t worry about it. You said you had food?” he wondered, having a feeling that this man was also easily distracted, which would work for him because while Adrien was busy getting something for them to eat, Yuuri could work on cleaning out the dishes from the sink.
Adrien’s return expression was one of pleasant confusion and complete and utter disregard for the disaster that was his apartment. He thought maybe that Yuuri was just trying to be nice - the kid probably was - and reached out a hand, clapping it to the other’s shoulder in a few well-earned smacks to his upper arm.
“You’re a kind soul, Yuuri,” he said grandly, and then beamed, clapping his hands together this time.
“I do have food, sweetling, right this way.”
Adrien sashayed into the adjoining kitchen area, nudging aside piles of clothes as he went. He flung open the fridge, bent down, and rummaged around for a few seconds, emerging at last with an armful of takeout boxes, a bottle of Sierra Mist, and what looked like a box of Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies.
“Here we are!” said Adrien happily. “Got all the good stuff. I have leftover dumplings, some General Tso’s chicken - oh, do you like sweet n’ sour chicken, because I could heat that up too! I’ve also got a few eggrolls here…”
He dumped all of it onto the counter and began sorting through things, grabbing for paper plates and napkins and forks.
Part of him wondered just how much caffeine this man consumed during the day to be so… perky and high spirited. Or if maybe this was just who he naturally was and Yuuri himself simply had no energy to spare for antics like this.
The clapping against his shoulder earned Adrien an even more exasperated look than before, but Yuuri did nothing to pull away or discourage him. Instead he simply followed him out to the kitchen, where Yuuri carefully emptied out the towel of hair into the trash can, before turning back to make a face at the sink filled with dishes, letting Adrien be distracted with pulling out whatever food he could find. Hopefully it wasn’t old food.
“All of it sounds great. Thank you,” Yuuri said as he watched the other get out the food. He did feel grateful that he was being given food and a trim and dry clothes when he barely even knew this man, so the least he could do was try to clean up some.
First was a matter of organizing everything. After he’d carefully rolled up the sleeves of his borrowed shirt, he went about pulling pots and pans and plates and bowls and utensils from the sink, piling them up in as little room necessary on the counter (which he would definitely have to clean afterwards).
The dishes would take too long. He only had so much time before the food was done heating up. So he went about the kitchen, picking up pieces of clothing from the floor and hanging them over the edge of the chair. At least this way no one would trip over them. He would just clean the dishes once they were done eating and Adrien had been distracted by something else.
The answer to Yuuri’s unasked question was a lot. A lot of caffeine was consumed.
Adrien seemed not to even notice as Yuuri mucked about in his kitchen, though he did hear rustling and clinking noises as the other emptied his towel into the trash can. He snatched up some paper plates and began doling out generous helpings of everything - Yuuri looked as though he could use a little more meat on his bones, not that Adrien could even comment on that - humming happily to himself as he did so.
“I’ve got soda in the fridge,” said Adrien as he worked, not turning around and not noticing the fact that Yuuri was attempting to clean up his kitchen and parts of his living room as he figured out the food. “And coffee, a lot of coffee, I drink, like, ten cups of coffee a day. Oh, and tea, if you like tea, and this like, herbal stuff, I guess it’s tea? Or if you want milk, I think there’s milk, and of course some bottled water, and some juice, and coconut milk because I don’t drink regular milk - oh, the other milk, I meant to say, that’s vanilla almond milk - “
The food was shoved into the microwave while Adrien prattled on, and he yanked it out a few minutes later, setting them down onto the stovetop to cool.
“Okay, we’ve got your sweet n’sour, your General Tso’s, three eggrolls, some dumplings, a helluva lot of rice - do you want chopsticks or forks? I’ve only got paper stuff.”
There was a part of Yuuri that wondered just how many people Adrien actually managed to convince to go up to his apartment with him, in the same manner that he’d brought Yuuri. Was it often that he followed people who had been soaked, or in other states of duress, followed them onto buses and then dragged off with somewhat dubious consent? He felt mean for thinking it, but how many people were actually able to tolerate Adrien’s flitting around and constant cascade of words and words and sashaying around and --
It was enough to make Yuuri dizzy just thinking about it, and here he was experiencing it first hand. He didn’t understand how Adrien wasn’t just exhausted.
“Thank you. Either is fine,” he said as he was offered utensils, and glanced over to the refrigerator as he considered the drink options, and then cautiously pulled open to peer inside.
“Is there anything I can grab for you? Other than coffee. I think you’ve had enough for today,” Yuuri said a bit exasperated as he glanced over everything and eventually pulled out the vanilla almond milk. “Maybe something without caffeine,” he suggested as he set the milk on the counter, and went to open up some of the cabinets to look for a glass or mug or something. He eventually found one and poured some for himself.
Yuuri turned to try and figure out a good place to sit, but literally everything was covered in clothing and who knew what else. He just stared at the heaps of everything and remained where he was at the counter.
“When would you like me to leave?” Yuuri asked quietly after a moment as he glanced over the food Adrien had heated up for them. “And… I’m sure you’ll want your clothes back. Should I change before I go, or… just bring them back sometime?” he asked, wondering if he would be trusted to even return them. How many people put up with Adrien and actually returned for more? Another mean thought, but completely legit.
Adrien haphazardly lined everything up on the countertop in rows of food, shoving things here and there until everything was laid out: chicken, eggrolls, dumplings, rice, a stack of paper plates, a handful of plastic cutlery, and several wooden chopsticks that clearly had been taken from takeout containers all piled together. He dumped some paper napkins onto the plates, then turned around and beamed at Yuuri.
“You can never have enough coffee,” Adrien said breezily, waving a dismissive hand. “Coffee is the drink of the gods. I’ll take some almond milk, though, if it’s not expired.”
He snatched up a paper plate and thrust it towards Yuuri while he grabbed one of his own, Adrien plucking up a pair of chopsticks, shucking the paper wrapping off and letting it drop to the floor, and proceeding to pile his plate high with a variety of foods, including two of the eggrolls.
“Hmm? Oh.” Adrien added a generous helping of rice. “I dunno, you can leave whenever, but you don’t have to return the clothes now, just gimme them back later.”
He forked a dumpling into his mouth, chewed, swallowed, grinned widely at Yuuri, and said, “Come on, let’s go put on a movie while we eat.”
Then he sashayed into the disastrous living room.
He watched somewhat nervously as Adrien pushed everything up onto the counter, surprised that nothing went crashing down to the floor. The place was such a mess; he had no idea how anyone could live in such a state of disarray and not realize how horrible it was.
Yuuri let out an exasperated sigh at the comment about coffee, and then began fishing out another cup for Adrien’s milk. Until he brought attention to the expiration date. Yuuri sputtered and paled, lifting the carton up to check, seeing that it still had a few days left. For good measure he sniffed at the cup he’d poured for himself, and while he was still nervous about it, it didn’t smell sour.
“What if I just never bring them back?” he wondered out loud, probably sounding more bitter than he meant. It was nothing against Adrien as a person (although he was turning into quite a handful for someone he’d just met), but because he didn’t know if he had the courage to return, himself.
The suggestion of a movie would at least be a good distraction, Yuuri still determined to straighten up the place while he could, if only as thanks for what Adrien took the time to do for him. There was no real place to put the cups, so he handed one to Adrien and carefully moved a stack of clothes off the side table and regrettably onto the floor.
He had to wonder if this man thought that they were friends now or something. Was this how people were supposed to make friends? He’d seen the jokes online about introverts making friends only when extroverts find and decide to adopt them, but this was still a little strange.
He was watching a movie while eating Adrien’s (hopefully not expired) food, wearing Adrien’s clothes, in his apartment, after Adrien gave him a haircut, after he’d chased him onto the bus, after they’d both gotten soaking wet from the car that drove by.
Was it because he’d said he liked his jacket? Did that prompt all of this??
Yuuri glanced at Adrien as he settled onto the couch, trying to figure this guy out. Did he do this for everyone? How did he have the energy? Well, other than copious amounts of coffee.
kuropeco
