LIAH 14. Wait Until the Rain Stops

The two of them had made a complete mess of themselves. It took an entire pack of wet wipes just to clean up in the car. Song Shengyang’s suit was essentially ruined, especially the black fabric, which now had a patchwork of dark and light water stains. It was impossible not to think of what had happened.

Pei Siyin, still basking in the aftermath of that breakthrough, actually looked embarrassed for all of three minutes. Then he went into the bedroom and came back with a clean towel, handing it to Song Shengyang. “I don’t think I have anything that fits you. I only found a pair of sweatpants. They were too big when I tried them on, and I forgot to return them.”

Song Shengyang took the pants without complaint. “Alright. I’ll shower first.”

That suit was good for nothing now and might as well go straight into the trash, but walking around naked in Pei Siyin’s place wasn’t exactly an option either.

After stripping, Song Shengyang held up the pants to check the length, clicked his tongue, then picked up his phone and sent his location to his driver, asking him to bring a fresh change of clothes.

Pei Siyin’s bathroom wasn’t small, but in Song Shengyang’s eyes, it felt cramped. It didn’t even have a bathtub.

He found a bottle of body wash on the shelf. He brought it closer and read the label. It was lavender scented. No wonder every time he saw Pei Siyin, there was always that faint floral smell lingering on him.

“With a scent that lasts this long, it’s probably cheap crap,” Song Shengyang muttered, giving it a one-star review.

He didn’t shower for long. When he stepped out, his hair was still dripping. He hadn’t bothered putting on the sweatpants Pei Siyin gave him. Instead, he grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around his waist.

The scent of food drifted in from the living room. Pei Siyin had his back to him, standing by the stove. Pots and bowls were spread out across the counter, but somehow it didn’t look messy. Everything seemed arranged in neat rows.

Song Shengyang walked up behind him, rubbing his hair with a towel slung around his neck. “What are you cooking?”

Pei Siyin turned to respond, and the ladle in his hand nearly smacked into Song Shengyang’s chest.

“Sorry,” he said with an apologetic smile. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the steam. His gaze dropped along Song Shengyang’s bare torso and asked, “Corn and pork rib soup. What about you? The pants didn’t fit?”

Song Shengyang ran a hand through his hair and said bluntly, “They’re tight at the crotch.”

Fresh out of the shower, his skin looked pale and smooth, the kind of skin that made it obvious he had never suffered through anything hard. He was tall, all long legs and a lean, muscular frame. Every line of his body looked like it could explode with power. His face, when animated, was untamed and cocky. Just below his long neck, a few faint red kiss marks clung to his skin, subtle enough to be missed unless someone was standing right in front of him.

Pei Siyin couldn’t stop staring.

Song Shengyang tapped his forehead, then leaned in slightly and said, “You like it? Go work for it.”

That familiar scent drifted between them at close range. Pei Siyin twitched his nose and stepped up to him. A drop of water from Song Shengyang’s hair landed on his thick, dark lashes. “Smells good. You used my body wash, didn’t you?”

Caught in the act, Song Shengyang kept drying his hair like nothing happened. “You think I wanted to?”

Pei Siyin didn’t press it. He just shoved the ladle into Song Shengyang’s hand and pointed at the pot. “Keep an eye on this. I’m going to take a shower.”

Standing there with a towel in one hand and a ladle in the other, Song Shengyang looked dumb as hell. Pei Siyin walked around behind him and gave him a pat on the back. “I’ll be quick.”

The broth in the pot was bubbling hard. Song Shengyang stood there grumbling but followed instructions anyway. He might as well have been banging the ladle against the stove. “What’s there to ‘keep an eye on’? It’s just soup.”

Still, the air smelled damn good. The golden corn floated at the edges, soaked in thick broth. Song Shengyang’s stomach growled, and he couldn’t stop swallowing.

Pei Siyin’s “I’ll be quick” turned out to be twenty minutes. The driver showed up in the meantime with a change of clothes. When he saw his boss shirtless and half-wrapped in a towel, he very wisely lowered his head and quietly shut the door behind him.

Song Shengyang tossed the clothes onto the couch with no intention of putting them on.

By the time Pei Siyin came out of the bathroom, the soup was nearly done.

Dinner was simple. Just one pot of corn and pork rib soup and two bowls of noodles. Pei Siyin hadn’t made anything else. Not because he was lazy, but because he forgot to buy groceries. The ribs and corn were the last two things left in his fridge.

“Song Shengyang, how’s the soup?”

Halfway through his bowl, Song Shengyang looked up and swallowed a bite of tender rib meat. “It’s good.”

“Right?” Pei Siyin beamed and refilled his bowl. “I thought so too.”

“You ever heard of the word modesty?”

“Nope.” Pei Siyin finished his food, rested his chin on his hand, and looked at him. “I just know when you praise me, I get happy.”

A piece of corn stuck in his throat. Song Shengyang felt his pulse slam into his neck, and the tips of his ears flushed red. He decided to focus on eating.

Spring weather was fickle. The sun disappeared not long after they finished.

Big fat raindrops started hitting the open windows in the living room. Then the sky broke open, unleashing a sudden downpour. Thunderclouds pressed low in the sky. Pei Siyin rushed over to close the windows. A bolt of lightning tore across the sky with no warning, lighting everything up like daytime.

“Ah—!” Pei Siyin clamped his hands over his ears and crouched down, scared.

The dull rumble of thunder sent a chill through the air. Song Shengyang rushed over and pulled him up, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “It’s okay.”

Their bodies pressed close. Pei Siyin turned in his arms and clung to his waist.

Song Shengyang held him tighter and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just thunder.”

The rain kept hammering the windows, the sound steady and maddening. Pei Siyin sat on the couch and watched Song Shengyang draw the curtains shut. He checked the weather on his phone, his face still pale.

“It’s going to thunder the next couple of days too.” His voice was flat, almost like he was trying to hide how upset he was.

Song Shengyang came back and sat beside him. “Why are you so scared of thunder?”

Pei Siyin bit his lip and put the phone down. “Because it’s always so sudden. And loud.”

The lights in the room were off. Only a dim glow came from the TV. Pei Siyin grabbed a pillow, bent his knees, and curled up on the couch. His gaze was unfocused. His lashes hung low like he was lost in some hidden shadow. “Are you going home tonight?”

Song Shengyang’s heart skipped. He mimicked Pei Siyin’s posture and hugged a pillow to his chest, though his long legs were stretched out casually. “I’ll wait until the rain stops. I don’t like driving in heavy rain.”

The news droned from the TV. A soft sound came from beside him. Song Shengyang turned his head and saw Pei Siyin putting the pillow aside. He knelt on the couch and wrapped his arms around Song Shengyang’s arm, holding on tight.

The dark blue and charcoal tones of the stormy sky scattered like broken stars across Pei Siyin’s skin. He looked at Song Shengyang for a long moment before quietly asking, “Can you stay with me tonight?”