Drenched in Desire

The rain pounded relentlessly against the windshield, a steady rhythm that mirrored the turmoil in Jaeho's chest. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his perfectly tailored suit feeling like a straitjacket as the voice of his father echoed in his mind.

"The Kwon name comes with responsibility, Jaeho. You have no time for distractions."

Distractions. That was what his father called anything outside the rigid framework of their dynasty—the carefully orchestrated engagement to his fiancée, the endless business meetings, the image of perfection he had spent his entire life cultivating. But tonight, as the city blurred behind streaks of rain, Jaeho felt the weight of it all threatening to suffocate him.

He barely noticed the figure standing on the sidewalk until his headlights illuminated him. A man, hunched under a flimsy bag, soaked to the bone, clutching a canvas tightly against his chest. His dark hair clung to his face, raindrops dripping down the sharp line of his jaw.

Jaeho's foot hovered over the brake. He should keep driving—this wasn't his problem. But something about the man stopped him. The defiance in the way he stood against the storm, as though daring it to knock him down, stirred something unfamiliar in Jaeho's chest.

With a low curse, he pulled over.

The man looked up sharply as Jaeho rolled down the window, his eyes narrowing. They were striking, even through the rain—large and expressive, with a depth that felt almost unsettling.

"You're going to catch pneumonia standing there," Jaeho said, his voice steady, though he wasn't sure why he suddenly cared.

The man blinked, clearly unamused. "I didn't ask for your concern."

Jaeho's jaw tightened. He wasn't used to being spoken to like that. "Do you want a ride or not?"

For a moment, the man hesitated, his gaze flickering between Jaeho and the storm around them. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, he opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.

The scent of rain and paint filled the car, mingling with the faint aroma of Jaeho's cologne. The man set his canvas carefully at his feet, droplets of water pooling on the floor.

"Thanks," he muttered, though his tone suggested anything but gratitude.

Jaeho glanced at him, noting the way his wet shirt clung to his lean frame, revealing hints of defined muscles. His cheekbones were sharp, his lips slightly parted as he caught his breath. He was... captivating in a way Jaeho couldn't quite place.

"What's your name?" Jaeho asked, breaking the silence.

The man turned to him, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Eunsu. Not that it matters."

Jaeho raised a brow. "Why wouldn't it matter?"

"Because guys like you don't pick up strangers unless you're bored or pitying them," Eunsu said, his tone light but cutting. "Am I your good deed for the night?"

Jaeho frowned. "You think I stopped because I pity you?"

Eunsu shrugged, leaning back in the seat. The motion caused his shirt to shift slightly, exposing a glimpse of the smooth skin just below his collarbone. Jaeho's gaze flickered for half a second before he caught himself.

"I stopped because it's dangerous out there," Jaeho said, forcing his voice to remain even. "But if you want me to drop you off right now—"

"Relax, Mr. Perfect," Eunsu cut in, his smirk widening. "I'm kidding. Sort of."

Jaeho wasn't sure if he was more irritated or intrigued. There was something magnetic about Eunsu, the way he seemed completely unfazed by Jaeho's presence, by the expensive car, by the weight of the name that followed him everywhere.

"Where to?" Jaeho asked, his tone clipped.

Eunsu rattled off an address in a quieter part of the city. The rest of the drive passed in tense silence, the air thick with an unspoken energy that neither of them seemed willing to address. Jaeho stole glances at Eunsu when he thought he wasn't looking—at the way the rain had left his lashes clumped together, the way his fingers tapped absently against his thigh.

When they finally pulled up to Eunsu's apartment, Jaeho reached into the back seat and grabbed his coat.

"Here," he said, handing it over.

Eunsu blinked at him, startled. "What are you doing?"

"You're still soaked. Just take it."

Eunsu hesitated before reaching out, his fingers brushing Jaeho's as he took the coat. The brief contact sent a jolt through Jaeho's chest, a sensation he didn't entirely understand.

"Thanks," Eunsu said again, softer this time.

Jaeho watched as he climbed out of the car, the coat draped over his shoulders. For a moment, Eunsu stood in the rain, looking back at him with an expression Jaeho couldn't quite read. Then he turned and disappeared into the building.

As Jaeho drove away, the scent of rain and paint lingered in the car, a reminder of the stranger who had just stepped into his life.

And for the first time in years, Jaeho felt something other than numbness.

Something dangerous.

Something he couldn't ignore.