Finn just focused on his own thing, continuing to type slightly altered versions of the same Google search into the search bar and hoping new results would appear. He jotted down a few promising links in the notes app on his phone, completely ignoring the passing of various figures as he just focused on finding some way to get food on the table.
He eventually pocketed his notebook again, getting up and heading towards the door, doing his best not to attract Finn's attention. He didn't want to get trapped in yet another inane conversation with the man. They had had plenty of those during the mistake that had been the time they dated. The door closed behind him as he stepped out of the McDonald's and turned down the sidewalk, wanting to just walk, get some of his energy out that way.
Finn didn't bother to look up. Plenty of people had come and gone from the restaurant that morning, and he didn't particularly care to see who it was this time. He finished off his sandwich, continuing to sip on his coffee as he scrolled through his phone for another short moment before tucking it away in his pocket. He'd found a few leads that might work, but frankly, he was already exhausted from everything. Mentally more than physically, but he didn't doubt that without some kind of rest it would inevitably become physical exhaustion as well. He figured he'd finish his coffee and then head back to the motel to wallow in his misery for a while and probably sleep the rest of the day.
Waylen walked along the sidewalk, frowning just a little bit. God, why did it have to be Finn, of all fucking people? Why? This sucked ass. He still couldn't believe he had ever, ever dated the guy. It felt like a lifetime ago; it may as well have been, in all honesty. It sure felt that why.
Finn idly sipped at his coffee until the cup emptied. He sighed. He hated this feeling- somehow physically tired even though he'd gotten plenty of rest. Not being sleepy, just feeling sluggish and gross. He needed to shower, he realized. That could be part of it. He begrudgingly stood up to dump his trash into the bin, grabbing his umbrella and exiting the small building. The rain seemed to hit the surface of his umbrella harder now, though that could just be his imagination. Back to the motel he went, then, praying that Waylen wouldn't be there.
Waylen was still walking through the rain, ignoring the way it battered down on his head, soaking his dark hair and running down his face in rivulets, pelting off of his jacket and soaking his jeans. At least, he did his best to ignore it. He only half succeeded, and eventually headed back towards the motel, shivering faintly from the cold and wet that had seeped into his bones.
Finn arrived back at the motel after another fifteen quiet minutes walking through the rain, taking his time. He tugged his sweater closer, the chilly air getting under the soft material and giving him goosebumps. Finally stepping under the porch of the motel was a relief, shaking off his umbrella and taking a moment to admire the rain from a dry spot. Being in it was usually enjoyable for him, but it wasn't warm enough just yet, so the comfort of the rain was significantly less than it'd be once summer hit. After a moment, he turned to his room and began attempting to unlock the door, the shitty locks making the process much harder than it should've been.
Waylen eventually made his way to the stairs, heading up them. Once he was no longer being hit by the rain, he shook himself off like a dog, water droplets flying every which way, though his jeans were still soaked and his hair still dripped water down his face. He headed towards his room, grimacing when he saw Finn. Fuck. Of course. Of course the other man just happened to be there at the same time as him.
The sound of shoes on the stairs redirected his attention, sparing a quick look over his shoulder to see quite literally the one person he definitely did not want to see at the moment. He just wanted a shower, fuck. He jangled the doorknob with more determination, hoping that he'd be able to pull the door open and slip inside before Waylen got too close. No luck, of course. With a quiet, resigned sigh, he looked back over. "You're wet," he stated offhandedly.
Waylen nodded a little, shaking his head again and flinging off more water. "Yeah, I am." he agreed, heading towards his door and digging in his pocket for the keys. "Shit." he mumbled, the wet jeans not wanting to allow access to his pockets. He made an almost amusing sight, wiggling around and digging in his pockets to try and get the keys. When he finally managed to access them, he sighed, shaking his head.
Finn pressed the back of his hand to his lips, stifling a chuckle. He idly wondered if the man had lost his keys for a moment before turning back to his own door and continuing to try and push it open. After a moment, thankfully, he got the key to cooperate and unlock the door. Part of him was a bit worried about Waylen given that he'd turned up drenched and shivering- even now, Finn could nearly hear the chatter of his teeth- but mostly he was just amused. He shrugged, leaning against his doorframe. "Should've brought a coat or something."
"I did. It's in my motel room." he retorted, not looking at Finn as he stabbed the key into the lock, frowning. He shook his head again, the dark, wet strands of his hair clinging to his forehead and the back of his neck. He looked like a drowned animal, really, with drops of water all over and his jeans clinging to his body in a way that showed every curve and line of muscle in his legs. Not that Finn was looking, surely.
"And you didn't think to bring it with you?" Finn rolled his eyes with a snort, looking him up and down and allowing his gaze to linger a bit longer than he normally would've. He was only human, after all. He hadn't remembered Waylen being so… aggravatingly attractive. He forcefully shoved that thought aside with mild disgust, tucking his own room key into the pocket of his pants and watching his neighbor continue to struggle with his lock.
Waylen grumbled under his breath. "No. I didn't." he retorted, eyes narrowing over at Finn for a moment as he shook his head. Then he went back to wrestling with the lock, his mouth pulled down into a frown still. God, this fucking sucked. He was stuck outside with Finn, because fuck him, right?
He raised an eyebrow as Waylen continued struggling with his lock. Glancing out at the rain that was steadily getting heavier then back to the motel door that seemingly wouldn't budge, he came to a conclusion. One that, surprisingly, he didn't hate. "I can grab you a towel or something, if you want," he offered. "Some dry clothes." He wasn't a complete monster. As much of a dick as Waylen might be, he wasn't going to leave him out on the porch to get hypothermia. Finn desperately needed a shower, and he didn't want that weighing on his conscious while he was trying to relax.
Waylen's nostrils flared a little as he clenched his jaw. He didn't want to accept charity from Finn. From Finn! "No thank you." He said, still glaring at his door. No way in hell was he going to wear Finn's clothes, use his towel, say please and thank you like a fucking pansy, like everything was just fine between them.
Finn scoffed. At least he was trying to be decent, something that Waylen couldn’t say. He couldn’t fucking believe this guy. “You’d rather stay out here and freeze, then?” Finn just knew that he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else knowing that this bastard was sitting out here freezing his ass off and probably getting a fever.
"Yes." He growled, still glaring at the door as if he could force it open by stare alone. Like Superman, zapping it open with laser eyes. Really, for all his ferocity, Waylen seemed so short in comparison to Finn. Which he, of course, stolidly ignored. He hated being short, goddamnit, but he wasn't going to draw attention to it by saying anything about it.
"Unfortunately, I don't think staring it down is going to make it pop open." Finn was starting to give up the polite act- clearly Waylen wasn't going to accept that, so he'd have to reconsider and change tactics. He looked down at him for another moment before making a show of bending down to look him in the eye. "If you'd stop being such a stubborn asshole, you'd see that I'm trying to help you out here." He maintained a positive tone despite his actual words being insulting. "You're going to get sick, dumbass."
Waylen glared at him. "Fuck. You." He snarled. "Rather get sick than accept help from a pansy ass fake like you." He stabbed his keys into the lock again, doing his best to unlock it and still not succeeding. "Leave me alone, Finn." His eyes cut to the door again and a frown tugged across his face. He raked a hand through his still soaking wet hair, a shiver trembling through his body.
Finn didn't even flinch. He was expecting that, really- as much as the insults stung at first, a painful throwback to their highschool years, he ignored it. This was Waylen he was dealing with, after all. Hot-headed, annoying, stubborn Waylen. He'd barely changed over the years, it seemed. Finn simply cocked an eyebrow. "Uh huh. Yeah, that's me." As infuriating as it was, a genuine flicker of worry still remained. The man in front of him was an asshat, but he still didn't want him freezing to death right outside his motel room. Finn sighed in exasperation. "You're literally shaking, princess. Quit acting so high and mighty and let me get you a goddamn towel or something."
Waylen shivered again, breath trembling out of him. "Piss off." He growled, shaking his head at Finn. "You can take your goddamn towel and shove it up your ass." He glared at the door, jostling the handle as hard as he could, finally kicking it in frustration, shaking his head again. Shivers kept flickering through his body, and he looked freezing. He was freezing.
"Yep, thanks for the suggestion. Now I'm getting you a towel, and then some dry clothes. You're shaking." The last thing he needed was Waylen passing out or some shit right outside their doors. Finn swung his motel door open, purposefully keeping it open to hopefully lure the man inside with the warmth. God, he was like a feral cat or some shit. Finn grabbed the first towel he saw in the bathroom, a surprisingly soft grey one, heading back out to the porch and tossing it at Waylen's head.
He kicked the door again, glaring at Finn even as he caught the towel and wrapped it around himself. His mouth was pulled in a tight, angry grimace. "I don't want your fucking clothes." He said, but did not relinquish the towel. He was still shivering, though perhaps not quite as much as before.
"Yeah, okay. Just come inside. I promise not to tell anyone that you didn't want to freeze to death at a shitty motel," he spat. He was getting impatient, knowing that Waylen was going to put up a fight the entire way, while also knowing that he wouldn't be able to abandon him out here. It was an immensely frustrating feeling. "You can come right back out here and sulk afterwards if you want that so bad." Finn lightly pushed his door further open, gesturing inside. "I won't tarnish your bad boy reputation."