It was no fairytale meeting. No bumping into one another on the street, or locking gazes from opposite sides of a coffee shop. They didn't know each other in high school. They didn't save one another's lives. It was simply that Wang Yao saw a cute man sitting by himself at the bar of a nightclub, and went over to spark a conversation.

"What're you drinking?"

It was a normal question, asked with a little smile as Yao sat himself down at the counter. The obnoxious club music pounded above them, and it was hard to even hear his own words. The man looked up, and Yao was instantly stunned. His eyes were a pretty colour, lavender? Or perhaps they were better described as mauve. Amethyst was too cliché, he thought.

"I'm not."

The answer was softly spoken, and Yao almost jumped at the accent. Russian, obviously. Even in two words, he had been able to tell that much. Now that Yao looked, he was sitting beside a man who simply exuded stereotype. Thick blond hair that framed his face and licked at his cheeks, large nose and bulky body. He was dressed in some kind of black coat, and the back of his hair was hidden underneath a beanie, but any attempt at being cool was extinguished by the puffy white scarf that was draped around his neck.

"Oh? Why not? You got a weak alcohol tolerance?"

Yao himself had consumed only one or two drinks, as it was his day off and he had decided to enjoy it. Thinking about it, he noticed that he seemed to be the complete opposite of this stranger, the yin to his yang. With long and coffee-brown hair that reached at the bottom of his shoulderblades, and a build slight enough to have him often confused with a teenage girl, Yao wondered if he was looking in some kind of reverse mirror; one that showed all he wasn't instead of all he was, all within a reflection. He also noted that this man was quite tall compared to him. Yao was essentially a beansprout beside a towering wall of a man at this point.

"No, I just don't want to."

This was curious. As far as Yao was concerned, the whole point of a nightclub was to go there, get absolutely wasted, have sex with a stranger, and then go home the next morning; that, and then take painkillers for the splitting hangover and headache that were sure to accompany. He shuffled in his stool a little, before resting his elbows on the counter.

"Really now? What brings you here, then?" Yao asked, looking up at the stranger and simply staring at him. It was unusual back in Yao's homeland, China, to stare at something, had it piqued one's interest. And this man was indeed grabbing Yao's attention.

"My friend thinks I need to meet people," the man sighed, folding his arms and glancing away. What, was he nervous? How amusing.

"Well, congratulations." mused Yao, holding out his hand for Ivan to shake. "You've met me. My name is Wang Yao. A pleasure." He scoffed softly, raising a brow. He was very much surprised by the next few events. Instead of simply shaking his hand like a normal person, Ivan took it in both of his hands – oh goodness, they were big hands, and so warm, and soft, and-.. Once he had done so, he simply held Yao's hand for a moment, staring away.

"My name is Ivan Braginsky." He mumbled, letting go and then returning his hands to the counter. Yao simply watched him, tilting his head. He had to admit, he had become a little embarrassed – flattered, even – when Ivan had taken his hand, but he shook it off.

"Do you come to these kinds of places often?" Yao asked, having to raise his voice as a louder song began to play. Fearing raising his voice, Ivan shook his head, and fumbled with his hands.

"I see," Yao said, turning to the barkeeper and ordering another drink or two. And those were down his gullet in an instant. He sighed contently as the alcohol refreshed him, and he got to his feet. "C'mon, Ivan, let's go talk someplace where we don't have to yell!" He yelled. Clearly nervous, Ivan stood, and let Yao lead him outside.

The rest of the evening was a blur to Yao. He vaguely remembered this stranger's arms, and his name, and when he blinked his eyes open-.. Well, he certainly wasn't in Kansas anymore, Toto. The room was completely unfamiliar, and he stared about, trying to remember what exactly had happened. Wherever he was, it was a room with plain white walls – he was laying in an uncomfortable and hard bed and staring about to make such observations – and it looked a little dirty in places. Dust coated shelves, spiderwebs grew on various protrusions from the walls or furniture; the room looked quite unlived in. There were windows, but ugly grey curtains cloaked them. It was a little depressing.

"You're awake?" A man's voice uttered softly, coming from the other side of the door. Yao groggily recognized it as the odd man from last night, Ivan. The door opened slowly, and Ivan poked his head in, smiling and toting a little tray. Upon it sat a pair of cups, and various other things – sugar, milk, and what Yao thought could possibly be crumpets. "You're probably hungover."

"Gee, thanks for telling me that!" wheezed Yao, grunting and flopping backward. Unfortunately for him, he had underestimated where he was laying, and ended up slamming his head against the backboard, and almost shrieking in pain. Ivan tilted his head.

"You're welcome. I have painkillers for you." Ivan said quietly, putting the tray down on the nightstand and popping a few paracetamol tablets into his hand to offer to Yao. He also had a little cup of water on the tray, so he handed that over as well.

Yao downed the pills and water, and let out a low groan. As much as he appreciated this man's kindness, he was more worried about where he was, how he could get home, and how late he was going to be for work. Then again, his work was for the most part flexible. It was generally just waiting around the hospital for the right situation.

"Why am I here?" Yao asked, just kind of staring as Ivan handed over a cup of coffee and the sweeteners. "Where am I, even?"

"Oho, you don't remember," Ivan laughed quietly. This irked Yao, really. Why was he laughing? It was frustrating.

"Of course I don't!" Yao puffed haughtily. "I was probably drunk!"

"We went outside the club, remember? And then you tried to dance, I think? But you fell over. So I took you to my home, and you fell asleep on the floor." Ivan hummed, giving a sweet smile. "I moved you to my guest room."

Yao was mortified. Yes, he would've been able to live with having had sex with a stranger and then waking up with no memory of it. But this.. This was just odd! Maybe Ivan was lying, and maybe they did get it on the previous evening! Yes, Yao thought, that was it. No-one was as good-natured as this man seemed to be. It had to be an act.

"Mmhm, I'm sure that's what happened," he huffed, grudgingly taking the coffee and dumping both sugar and cream into it. "Absolutely. Thank you, Ivan."

"You started singing, last night?" Ivan cooed softly, pulling a stool out of the corner of the room and sitting down beside Yao's bed. "You started singing something from The Wizard Of Oz."

Shit, thought Yao. That sounds like me. Maybe he's telling the truth. He frowned, and sipped at the sweetened coffee. "Thanks, I guess. I probably drank too much."

"That was clear," Ivan chuckled. "Do you remember your spiel about how you were a racecar driver?"

"W-what?" mumbled Yao, creasing his brows in concern. "I'm not a racecar driver."

Ivan shrugged. "Well, that's what you said last night."

Yao frowned and drank his coffee, before returning the empty mug to the tray, and getting out of bed. "I should probably think about getting to work, eh.." he mumbled, a little wobbly on his feet.

"You sure you don't want breakfast first?"

Yao groaned. He would kill for breakfast right now.

"Why would you make coffee and breakfast for a stranger?" He asked, watching Ivan get up and walk a touch cheerily to the door. "I mean, I'm not complaining, but hey." His question was lost when Ivan opened the door. The living room was bright. Illuminated by an overhanging chandelier, the massive room dwarfed all the furniture inside. But really, Yao's focus was snagged upon the mural painted on the walls. It was brilliant to say the least; a dazzling blue sky and warm yellow sunflowers making no effort to be scarce below it. Yao also noticed some paint tins and equipment scattered about. Had Ivan painted this?

"I take it you're interested in the mural?" Ivan hummed, carrying the tray into the next room after that one, which Yao guessed was the kitchen. "But to answer your question, I never really have company, so it's nice to have some human contact for a change." Yao frowned, and lamely followed him about. This room was huge; how big was the rest of the house?

"Y-yes, the mural," he nodded. "It's very pretty-.. Wait, what about that friend of yours? The one who made you come to the nightclub in the first place?"

"An internet friend," stated Ivan, giving a sad smile. "He lives in France." He returned from the kitchen after idling there and supposedly putting breakfast on, and sat down upon the living room's couch. He pet it for Yao to come and sit down beside him. "I painted that mural myself."

"I see," sighed Yao, as an end to both conversations. He sat, but only because he pitied Ivan for being so lonesome.

Yao could only assume that the 'guest room' was so unkempt because this poor man never had visitors or guests to stay in it. And really, the friendship that was to come was to bloom out of pity. A little sad, isn't it?

"Your friend wants you to meet people, right?" Yao huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back on the couch. He decided he was going to be a good person. "Then we should talk about things, find similar interests, and maybe become friends." Ivan's eyes lit up like a little boy who'd just been offered a puppy.

"Yes!" he gasped, practically buzzing where he sat. "I would love to have two friends!"

So this Frenchman was really Ivan's only friend? Yao frowned. "Well, you know my name. I'm twenty-six. I like sunsets and long walks on the beach." He rolled his eyes when Ivan nodded, oblivious to his sarcasm. "No, not really. I like nice restaurants and cute animals."

"E-erm, what do I say now?" mumbled Ivan, seemingly bashful and confused. "And you're twenty-eight?!"

"You tell me your age and two things you like, like I did for you." Yao scoffed. "Yes. Why, is it a surprise?"

"I've just turned twenty-four," he huffed, embarrassed now. "I thought you were some rowdy teenager or something."

"A teenager!" Yao burst into laughter. "That's hilarious! I'm much too old to be a rowdy teenager, Ivan. But thank you for noticing my youthful good looks."

"E-eh, sorry!" the Russian squeaked, raising his hands in defense.

"Don't worry about it," Yao chuckled, sighing and petting Ivan's large shoulder.

"Anyway, erm.. I'm twenty-four, and I like warm things and sunflowers." He admitted softly.

"Okay.. Where do you work? Assuming you have a job, that is," mused Yao, crossing his arms again.

Ivan huffed and looked down at his knees. "I'm a technician at the Art Museum." He mumbled. "Although I'd much rather paint the things I put up for display."

"Fair enough," Yao shrugged. "I'm a paramedic-" he cut himself off, realising the time. "Shit, I'm gonna be late, aah-"

Ivan stood when Yao began to panic, alarmed. "I'm so sorry!"

"Hell, I'm gonna have to go," he grumbled, standing. "Ivan, you're an artist, give me some paper and something to write with!" Yao commanded, raising his voice a little.

"W-what! Okay!" cried Ivan, scurrying off into the next room. He returned near instantly, holding a sheet of printing paper and a purple biro.

Still fretting over his punctuality, Yao hurriedly scrawled his Skype username and phone number. He handed the paper back over to Ivan, and gave a smile. "Now, send me a contact request and don't forget to call me!" He hummed, before waving and leaving the room.

Ivan stood there, a little shell-shocked. What exactly had just happened? Yao returned a few seconds later, an awkward smile on his face, and his escape plan ruined. "Okay, so I don't know where the exit is?"

Ivan laughed a little, and led his new friend to the front door.

hello new multi-chapter rochu fic

it'll probs go up to M later idk its a mystery

i kind of have writer's block right now so im sorry if i dont update that often

that and i have school so :/

anyway thanks for reading uwu ill update when i can.