Chapter Text
It’s raining.
It always rains on the days when his life takes a turn for the worst.
Every time he thinks ‘it can’t get worse than this’, the universe proves him wrong once more. Even going as far as summoning dark clouds to weep over the broken remains of his pitiful existence.
It rained on the day his parents left him in the care of their neighbor and never came back to pick him up.
Not because they didn’t want to —he knows they wanted to— but because they were unable to; trapped under heavy steel of the bus they were riding, bodies cold and unmoving.
The rain washed away the blood of the parents he could no longer remember, it soaked them just as it soaked him. It mixed with his tears and accompanied his days as he bounced from foster house to foster house. From family to family. From heartbreak to heartbreak.
It rained on the day his uncle Jiang took him in.
He allowed himself to hate the rain a little less because, for the first time in 4 years, someone held an umbrella over his head and hugged his shivering form.
He should have known back then that rain was never there to show him mercy.
He understood that when it rained again on the day his aunt Yu hit him for the first time. Her tall figure looming over his smaller body, illuminated by thunder his childish mind thought was caused by her fury at him for being such a burden. For being another mouth to feed. Another bill. Another reason she couldn’t trust her husband. Another reason she couldn’t be proud of Jiang Cheng.
It didn’t rain every time she took out her anger on him but it often did.
Rain also meant his sister’s warm soup. Her loving smile stretched across her beautiful face. The smell of the cedar-scented candle she liked to use on colder days.
It meant lounging on the couch and watching a horror movie they’d watched before that somehow still makes his younger brother jump, and wrestling said brother for the scratchy blanket they were allowed to bring to the living room.
Once again, he decided to trust rain.
He quickly learned that betrayal smelled like Petrichor.
It rained on the day another bus trapped the rigid bodies of his loved ones.
It lapped up their blood just like it did his parents and caressed his face as he clutched his brother and allowed the traitorous droplets to mourn their loss with them. It hugged them as they hugged each other, it cried and howled louder than them.
It only hummed on the day they buried Jiang Yanli, Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan.
He was eighteen then.
Eighteen years too early to take care of his fifteen-year-old brother.
Eighteen years too early to give up his dreams.
And maybe eighteen years too late to not be part of this new nightmare he’d have to navigate his way through. Once more.
That damned melody became the background music that played when got berated by an angry customer for getting their order wrong. When his boss had had enough of him turning up late to work and fired him. When his brother had one of his bad days and echoed the words of a woman long gone from this world. When he had his first time with a man who later threatened to leak the proof of it to his current employers. When he got shitfaced on his twenty-first birthday and ended up with a hospital bill for a broken ankle he couldn’t even explain.
And when it rained on the day his brother told him he’d been accepted into law school, he knew better than to give rain another chance.
—
It’s a Friday, a very ordinary one. Wei Ying doesn’t feel any particular way about Fridays. Or about Sundays, or any other day of the week really.
All of them consist of either mopping sticky fast food restaurants’ floors or holding his breath for as long as his lungs allow him to when he has to drive home another drunk man with a boring office job who might know what soap is but definitely not how to use it.
Perhaps Wei Ying does feel a particular way about Fridays after all, since that’s when he has his shift as a substitute driver and he hates it. Hates it so much more when whoever hired him turns out to be some rich snob with a too-expensive car who will keep crying about whatever surface-level problems rich people cry about.
He expects much of the same today —if the address of the classy venue wasn’t enough proof— then the brand new Rolls Royce parked in front of the door tells him everything he needs to know about his last drive of the day.
What he doesn’t expect is for the most beautiful man he’s ever laid eyes on to be the loaded tipsy customer he will have to take home.
The man is probably in his early twenties. His features sharp but made youthful with the gentle flush the alcohol had given him. His hair holds hints of having been meticulously coiffed but is now slightly disheveled but not any less attractive. His outfit seems expensive —but not in that outrageous yet boring way Wei Ying is used to seeing on these types of men. He wore a white vintage dress shirt with black ruffle details, tucked into some wrinkle-free black slacks and some black oxford shoes —that could probably cover his rent for several months— Wei Ying couldn’t get a proper look at them but the young man also has small blue butterflies dangling from golden hoops in his ears. That small detail clashes with the rest of the outfit but somehow also brings it all together.
He is simply gorgeous.
But Wei Ying doesn’t have time to ogle someone leagues above his own —staring at beautiful intoxicated strangers won’t pay the bills but getting them home, safe and sound, definitely will.
He quickly climbs into the driver’s seat —noting how meticulously clean the car’s interior is— he didn’t expect less from someone who looks like he bathes in goat milk.
He makes sure his client’s brother —who bears a striking resemblance to him— is done maneuvering his tall body into the backseat and flashes the smartly dressed man a polite smile before hitting the gas.
He enters the address he was given by said brother into the GPS system —it’s in the expensive part of town— Of course it is.
The drive should only take about twenty or so minutes but Wei Ying can’t find it within himself to speed up too much, fearing the car’s movements will perturb the sleeping beauty he keeps stealing glances at every now and then.
He allows his mind to drift to a fantasy where he isn’t some random poor substitute driver this man will not even remember in an hour —but instead his diligent boyfriend who picks him up from bars and helps him undress once they’re home, and tucks him in with a kiss on his forehead.
Maybe in another life, he could hope to have someone of this man’s caliber. He doesn’t consider himself unworthy of him per se —he just knows how the world works and he honestly doesn’t even have the time to deal with the emotional rollercoaster of dating someone from a higher class.
He’s got enough on his plate as is.
His thoughts are brought to a screeching halt when he feels breathing on the side of his neck. —He has to keep his eyes on the road so he only allows himself a brief glance at the rearview mirror, and sure enough, the previously sleeping man is no longer sleeping and is instead trying to get a better look at his driver.
His golden eyes hold an intensity that makes Wei Ying dizzy. He tugs his collar a little higher and pretends the shiver he feels coursing through his body is from the night’s chill and nothing else.
They arrive at the man’s residence a few minutes later —which felt like hours due to the unrelenting gaze Wei Ying was subjected to. The building looks more like a hotel than anything else with its reflective glass and shimmering lights near the entrance.
Usually, this is where Wei Ying gives the key to the concierge and starts his long trek back home, but he’d been tasked —by his client’s brother— with making sure the man reaches his doorstep without fail. Wei Ying wasn’t an overbearing older brother but he definitely understood where the man was coming from. Besides he’s getting paid extra for this drive and being able to spend a couple more minutes with this gorgeous man sweetened the deal for him.
He parks the car in the underground parking lot. Pats his pockets for his belongings not wanting a repeat of the incident where he almost got fired for forgetting his pack of cigarettes in a young woman’s car —and gets out.
The taller man’s eyes followed his every movement and stayed fixed on him even when Wei Ying opened the door to let him out.
He usually dislikes having to manhandle people out of their car seats but this client is surprisingly easy to deal with and allows himself to be guided towards the elevator without fuss.
For the first time that night, Wei Ying gets a proper look at the man —and he’s even more beautiful upfront. He also gets a proper whiff of the fresh sandalwood scent coming from him and notices how almost none of the stench of alcohol his senses usually get assaulted with is present.
God, he smells so good. He almost loses his footing.
The elevator beeps to signal their arrival on the 33rd floor, doors opening to reveal a brightly lit and elegantly decorated hallway that ends with a door to the man’s private penthouse. Said man stumbles in his step as he gets out of the elevator. Wei Ying unconsciously holds his arm out for him to hold on to.
The stranger looks at it for a few seconds then looks at Wei Ying’s inviting expression and his face melts into the warmest smile —He doesn’t show any teeth and his lips barely quirk up but Wei Ying can definitely tell it’s a smile, a very beautiful and dangerous one at that because how will he walk away from this interaction unchanged now that he has been blessed with such a sight.
He cannot help but return it with one of his own.
The man, no, the angel hooks his arm with his and tugs them towards the grey door. He starts fumbling around, most likely looking for the key card that had already been entrusted to his driver.
Wei Ying suppresses a chuckle at that —If the man was so endearing while inebriated, then what was he like sober? He wonders. Was he warm and kind like his sister was? Or was he quiet and reserved? Would he smile like that at the barista that prepared his coffee? Or were his smiles private, only seen by his family and friends?
Wei Ying slides the key card to him and receives another sweet quirk of the man’s shiny lips. —was he wearing gloss? Wei Ying seriously doubts anyone has lips that naturally reflect the light as much as those did.
He watches him fumble with it for a few seconds before snatching it and inserting it into the slot himself.
A beep, then a click, and the door is wide open. The interior of the penthouse is dark but the moonlight shyly reveals that it’s just as immaculate as the man occupying it.
He watches him go inside and turns on his heel to leave.
—
A shuffle, a yank, a beep, a click, and warm lips on his own.
The man kisses him desperately, holds him like he might disappear if he lets him go. He kisses him like he’s a lover who’s giving him a second chance. Like he knows him and loves him and would hang up the moon for him. He caresses his face like he wants to commit the feel of his skin to his memory. Like he cannot believe he is allowed to touch it.
Which he isn’t. Not really. Wei Ying takes too long to push him away —melts too fast in his arms and has to mold himself back together before he shoves him off.
How he wishes he didn’t have to.
But this man is drunk. —He probably thinks he picked up a random guy from the bar for the night and doesn’t realize he’s kissing his substitute driver.
“Please,” He speaks for the first time tonight. “Don’t leave me.” His voice is silvery but brittle as he begs a complete stranger to stay with him.
Wei Ying is afraid that his resolve will break if he indulges himself with a look at the man’s eyes. —so he doesn’t. But warm hands are back on his face, tilting it up and forcing him to yield to the earnestness held within his angel’s shining eyes.
Silver meets gold and glistening lips meet each other in a heated dance.
He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. —He should push this attractive stranger off and rush home to his brother. Make sure he had his dinner, and squeeze in a few hours of sleep. This will get him fired and he will be back to having plain rice for however many weeks it takes him to find a job to replace the income from this one.
He shouldn’t kiss back. He shouldn’t throw his arms around his neck. He shouldn’t let himself be picked up and taken to his bedroom. —He shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t…
When the man eagerly mouths at his neck and calls him sweetheart in that dizzyingly attractive and husky voice, Wei Ying forgets why he shouldn’t bare himself to the alluring man.
When the man undresses him and traces his skin with childlike fascination, Wei Ying forgets why he shouldn’t bring him in for another kiss and allow himself to be touched in the most intimate of places.
When the man wraps a hand around his half-hard cock, Wei Ying forgets why he shouldn’t let himself be used to pleasure the other —and arches up into his fist.
When the man finally makes a home for himself inside of the other’s enticing body and whimpers out ‘I want you’s and ‘I love you’s, Wei Ying forgets what he shouldn’t do.
Moans and groans and cries of pleasure muffle the sound of the pouring rain as he deludes himself into thinking he is loved and wanted —not just a body for a stranger to pour his seed into. Or just a moneymaker for a brother too young to pull his own weight. Or a just burden or a bill.
It isn’t until the next morning, when Wei Ying is making his way home across wet pavement and muddy grass —leaving behind the man who made him reach his peak time and time again— that his stomach finally drops.
He slept with a stranger. He missed his brother’s and boss’ calls.
And it was raining.