[fic]
title: The Sound of Rain
rating: R
fandom: Crossover
pairing: Nicholas Tse/Hangeng
summary: From the moment he first saw him, Nicholas had been struck with this spark of curiosity.
comments: Best crossover pairing ever.
The first time Nicholas sets eyes on him is in his favourite coffee shop. He’d been practically staring at him the entire time he was in there, so it was no wonder he saw.
“Hey,” he says, leaping up from his seat. “I think you dropped this.” He bends down and picks up the wallet that had fallen on the floor. It’s slim, thin, small and leathery, between Nicholas’s fingers.
He turns to look at Nicholas, eyes widening with surprise. “Huh? Oh…thanks.” The smile on his face is a little sheepish, embarrassed to have made such a mistake.
Nicholas hands the wallet to him and for just a split second their fingers brush. He smiles back at the stranger. “No problem.”
He’s in there again, the same day, around the same time, a week later. Nicholas is actually surprised, to see him again. There are so many different faces that sift through in a day, countless that will never come back again, or at least not on a regular basis.
But exactly a week later, and there he is again. Nicholas barely toys with the idea of fate.
This time, he takes a table close to Nicholas’s. For a moment, Nicholas wonders if he’ll recognize him, or remember him, and then he wonders why he even cares, but the guy looks around his surroundings for a moment and catches his eye.
He smiles, just a small twitch of lips, and Nicholas sucks in a quick breath, tries to smile back.
He feels a tiny bit relieved when the guy turns his attention away again, looks down at the paper in front of him. Nicholas can’t quite see which one it is, but it’s in Chinese, World Journal, perhaps?
Nicholas is curious, and he’s not sure why. But from the moment he first saw him, Nicholas had been struck with this spark of curiosity. Maybe it was the gentle curve of his lips when he smiled. Or the way he bit on his lower lip when he was reading something. Or the softness of his voice whenever he spoke. Or even just the way he hesitated, a little nervously, when he spoke English, his accent still thick and just a little awkward.
Maybe. But Nicholas isn’t sure why he’s still watching him, looking over the rim of his cup whilst he sips at his coffee, and just watches as he reads his paper.
And again, another week later, he’s there. Nicholas is still surprised, though he really shouldn’t be, when he sees the guy, tall and thin and looking nicely proportioned, orders his usual and picks his table, near Nicholas again, and starts to read his paper.
This is strange behaviour, for Nicholas, to sit and watch and quietly observe. He’s more confident than that, likes to go out and just take hold of what he wants. But something about this man stops him, makes him almost…nervous, unsure of himself. He’s not sure why, but it’s a little bit disturbing.
Nicholas watches as he slowly turns the pages of the paper, he’s actually so close this time that Nicholas can hear the scrape of fingertips on rough paper, hear the swish as the large sheets fold over. One hand goes to slip into his pocket, eyes focused nowhere but the page in front of him, and then he stops, hesitates, before pulling out his empty hand.
Nicholas understands a moment later when he notices a word puzzle on the page. This is an opportunity, a moment, something he should take hold of. For a moment, he considers not doing it, but he looks at that face again, the one that just keeps him so captivated, and he’s moving before he even realises it, pulling something out of his pocket and leaning over him.
“Looking for one of these?” Nicholas asks, dangles the pen in front of his face, a slow, easy smile playing on his lips.
His eyes widen slightly when he recognizes Nicholas, before a smile of his own curves his lips. Nicholas’s stomach almost flips. “Thanks.”
Nicholas looks so much more confident than he feels as he slips into the seat opposite him.
He finds out his name is Hangeng, and he’s only been living in New York for little over a year. He’s still trying to learn English. Mandarin is his first language, he’s 26 year’s old, and he works evenings in a restaurant that Nicholas has actually eaten in before.
As they talk over their cooling cups of coffee and a forgotten crossword puzzle, Nicholas wonders why he’d been so nervous in the first place. This is the easiest, and most enjoyable, conversation he has ever had. Hangeng laughs, a soft, silly little sound, almost like a giggle, at Nicholas’s jokes; his eyes light up every time they find another thing in common between them; his cheeks flush, just a little, with colour when Nicholas corrects a bit of his English. He blushes even more, when Nicholas says he has to go - he’s spent longer than his usual break this afternoon, talking to him - and Hangeng slips Nicholas his number. He’s not usually so forward, he admits.
“I’m keeping your pen though,” Hangeng tells him with a laugh, slips it into his pocket with a smile. “Kidnapping it. If you ever want to see it again, call that number, and we’ll negotiate.”
Nicholas can’t keep the smile from his face for the rest of his day.
They go out for drinks a few nights later. Nicholas hadn’t even bothered to try and ‘keep Hangeng waiting’ before calling him. They already got along just fine, what was the point? Besides that…Nicholas just couldn’t wait to see him again, really.
He’s happy to find that Hangeng is still easy to talk to, and they still have plenty of things left to talk about. Whilst they sit at their table, refilling their drinks and snacking in-between, they share their experiences of ‘home’ with each other. For Hangeng, it’s China and Nicholas its Hong Kong.
“I still miss it, sometimes,” Hangeng admits, his voice quiet as he sips slowly on his drink. “Like when it rains, it sounds different, at home.”
For the first time in a long time, Nicholas is hit with a pang of longing himself, a longing for home, for Hong Kong, the familiar streets he hasn’t walked in years, the faces he hasn’t seen in what feels like forever, the way the rain sounds as it covers the streets back home.
He smiles at Hangeng, understanding exactly what he means.
They meet regularly, every Thursday at the coffee shop during lunchtime. Apparently Nicholas isn’t the only one of them that finds socializing with each other simple, easy and enjoyable. He’s glad, actually, really glad, because already, after just two weeks of talking to Hangeng, Nicholas has the feeling that they could be really good friends.
Hangeng still has his pen, he never did give it back, and he uses it to fill in the word puzzles he does in his paper. Nicholas helps him, sometimes, when he can’t get one of the clues.
They always overrun with their time when they meet each other, though. Even when Nicholas has to get back to work, or Hangeng has things to do, they just end up sitting there and talk and talk and talk, it’s as if neither of them can help themselves, really.
Well, Nicholas knows he can’t, at least. He’s pretty surprised to admit it, but he’s captivated by Hangeng, entranced. There’s just this something about him that captures Nicholas’s attention and won’t let go.
And he likes it. Nicholas actually likes it, the way they are, the way this feels. He likes it, and keeps hoping things will only progress further.
“It’s strange, I’ve never found anyone so easy to be around, before,” Hangeng tells him over dinner one night. Nicholas had taken them to a nice Thai restaurant he liked, and now they’re just sitting at their table enjoying after-meal drinks and talking.
“I know what you mean,” Nicholas agrees. Usually, with his dates, he likes to play charming, a little, likes to be kind of cool, a little bit smooth. But he can’t with Hangeng. He’s found it’s just about impossible to be anything but himself around him. And he actually likes it. Hangeng makes him feel at ease, so Nicholas doesn’t mind letting him in, letting him see more of him than he’s usually willing to allow.
“It feels like more than just a few weeks, doesn’t it?” Hangeng continues, then flushes a little, as if he’s embarrassed by how much he’s saying, or afraid that Nicholas doesn’t reciprocate. “Sorry, I don’t usually talk like this.”
Nicholas smiles and shakes his head, reaches over the table between them and lays his hand over Hangeng’s, fingers warm beneath his own. “Yeah, it really does.”
After they eat Nicholas offers to walk Hangeng back to his apartment, which makes Hangeng laugh, “Why, what a gentleman you are!” Nicholas grins at that.
It’s not too far from the restaurant to Hangeng’s place, and it’s quite a nice evening, so they walk it, sharing even more stories as they make their way down the streets, this time they talk about their childhood. Hangeng was a well behaved little boy, whilst Nicholas had always had a mischievous streak in him.
They’re about a block away from Hangeng’s apartment, Hangeng laughing at one of Nicholas’s anecdotes, when the Heavens just seem to open up right above them, catches them by surprise. Nicholas curses and Hangeng squeals a little.
“Quick, come on,” he says, takes hold of Nicholas’s hand and tugs him quickly down the street, almost jogging. They’re getting completely soaked through, he can already feel his clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin, but all Nicholas can really focus on is the way Hangeng’s cold, wet fingers slip so easily in between his own.
They get to the door, Hangeng having to drop Nicholas’s hand to fumble through his pockets, find his key. Nicholas reaches out, takes hold of Hangeng’s arm and pulls him round to face him. For a moment they just look at each other, hair wet and dripping into their eyes, clothes plastered to their skin. But Nicholas doesn’t care about any of that.
He tugs Hangeng towards him, leans in close himself, and presses their mouths firmly together. He can feel Hangeng’s surprise, but then, only a moment later, Hangeng kisses him back, and Nicholas knows he made the right move.
After what seems an eternity, their mouths pressing greedily together, the only part of either that is remotely warm, they pull apart. Hangeng is shivering in Nicholas’s arms, and perhaps it’s not just from the cold water that drips down the back of his neck.
He smiles crookedly at Nicholas, pulls him towards the door. “Come on, I can’t send you home soaking wet.”
It’s the first time they have sex. Their skin is cold and still wet from the rain, but their fingers are soft and their mouths are warm and Hangeng’s body is hot. It wasn’t planned, really, but Hangeng had peeled off his wet shirt and Nicholas had been unable to help himself.
They meet in a mixture of wet, hungry mouths, firm hands and rocking hips. Hangeng lies beneath him, open and inviting, Nicholas’s name falling from his kiss-swollen lips, and Nicholas leans above him, covers Hangeng’s body like the warmest, most intimate of blankets, and takes them both to a place far above cold rain water and howling wind.
Hangeng is breathless and shivering when they’re finished, and Nicholas pulls the warm blankets over them both, turns and takes Hangeng into his arms. It feels oddly right, to be here, and Nicholas finds, for the first time in a long time with another person, he doesn’t have anything to worry about.
The rain can still be heard, pitter-pattering on the streets outside, although now it sounds comforting, almost like home. Not quite, but almost.
Hangeng presses close against Nicholas, settles comfortably against him, and now, now, they’re warm.
“My last relationship ended badly,” Hangeng admits one night, voice a whisper. His fingers trace useless, lazy patterns over Nicholas’s lower stomach. Those soft fingertips send a shiver through his skin.
He turns his head and glances over at Hangeng. The blankets have only been pulled up to his waist, so Nicholas can treat himself to a nice, long look at the other man’s naked torso, greedily drinking in the sight with his eyes.
“Don’t worry, so did mine,” Nicholas replies after a few moments. It’s the first time either of them has really mentioned past relationships, or anything to do with relationships at all, really. Not sure why, but they’d avoided the subject, up until now, anyway.
Nicholas reaches out with one hand, traces the firm muscles of Hangeng’s arm with his fingers, smiles at him. His skin is still hot to the touch after their lovemaking, traces of sweat still clinging tightly to the skin.
Hangeng looks over at him, smiles back at him, and Nicholas can see the trust shining in his eyes. He’s a little surprised, to be honest, wonders for just a moment if perhaps they’re moving too fast here. But then Hangeng’s hand takes hold of his own and threads their fingers together, a perfect fit, and Nicholas stops thinking at all.
- end -
rating: R
fandom: Crossover
pairing: Nicholas Tse/Hangeng
summary: From the moment he first saw him, Nicholas had been struck with this spark of curiosity.
comments: Best crossover pairing ever.
The first time Nicholas sets eyes on him is in his favourite coffee shop. He’d been practically staring at him the entire time he was in there, so it was no wonder he saw.
“Hey,” he says, leaping up from his seat. “I think you dropped this.” He bends down and picks up the wallet that had fallen on the floor. It’s slim, thin, small and leathery, between Nicholas’s fingers.
He turns to look at Nicholas, eyes widening with surprise. “Huh? Oh…thanks.” The smile on his face is a little sheepish, embarrassed to have made such a mistake.
Nicholas hands the wallet to him and for just a split second their fingers brush. He smiles back at the stranger. “No problem.”
He’s in there again, the same day, around the same time, a week later. Nicholas is actually surprised, to see him again. There are so many different faces that sift through in a day, countless that will never come back again, or at least not on a regular basis.
But exactly a week later, and there he is again. Nicholas barely toys with the idea of fate.
This time, he takes a table close to Nicholas’s. For a moment, Nicholas wonders if he’ll recognize him, or remember him, and then he wonders why he even cares, but the guy looks around his surroundings for a moment and catches his eye.
He smiles, just a small twitch of lips, and Nicholas sucks in a quick breath, tries to smile back.
He feels a tiny bit relieved when the guy turns his attention away again, looks down at the paper in front of him. Nicholas can’t quite see which one it is, but it’s in Chinese, World Journal, perhaps?
Nicholas is curious, and he’s not sure why. But from the moment he first saw him, Nicholas had been struck with this spark of curiosity. Maybe it was the gentle curve of his lips when he smiled. Or the way he bit on his lower lip when he was reading something. Or the softness of his voice whenever he spoke. Or even just the way he hesitated, a little nervously, when he spoke English, his accent still thick and just a little awkward.
Maybe. But Nicholas isn’t sure why he’s still watching him, looking over the rim of his cup whilst he sips at his coffee, and just watches as he reads his paper.
And again, another week later, he’s there. Nicholas is still surprised, though he really shouldn’t be, when he sees the guy, tall and thin and looking nicely proportioned, orders his usual and picks his table, near Nicholas again, and starts to read his paper.
This is strange behaviour, for Nicholas, to sit and watch and quietly observe. He’s more confident than that, likes to go out and just take hold of what he wants. But something about this man stops him, makes him almost…nervous, unsure of himself. He’s not sure why, but it’s a little bit disturbing.
Nicholas watches as he slowly turns the pages of the paper, he’s actually so close this time that Nicholas can hear the scrape of fingertips on rough paper, hear the swish as the large sheets fold over. One hand goes to slip into his pocket, eyes focused nowhere but the page in front of him, and then he stops, hesitates, before pulling out his empty hand.
Nicholas understands a moment later when he notices a word puzzle on the page. This is an opportunity, a moment, something he should take hold of. For a moment, he considers not doing it, but he looks at that face again, the one that just keeps him so captivated, and he’s moving before he even realises it, pulling something out of his pocket and leaning over him.
“Looking for one of these?” Nicholas asks, dangles the pen in front of his face, a slow, easy smile playing on his lips.
His eyes widen slightly when he recognizes Nicholas, before a smile of his own curves his lips. Nicholas’s stomach almost flips. “Thanks.”
Nicholas looks so much more confident than he feels as he slips into the seat opposite him.
He finds out his name is Hangeng, and he’s only been living in New York for little over a year. He’s still trying to learn English. Mandarin is his first language, he’s 26 year’s old, and he works evenings in a restaurant that Nicholas has actually eaten in before.
As they talk over their cooling cups of coffee and a forgotten crossword puzzle, Nicholas wonders why he’d been so nervous in the first place. This is the easiest, and most enjoyable, conversation he has ever had. Hangeng laughs, a soft, silly little sound, almost like a giggle, at Nicholas’s jokes; his eyes light up every time they find another thing in common between them; his cheeks flush, just a little, with colour when Nicholas corrects a bit of his English. He blushes even more, when Nicholas says he has to go - he’s spent longer than his usual break this afternoon, talking to him - and Hangeng slips Nicholas his number. He’s not usually so forward, he admits.
“I’m keeping your pen though,” Hangeng tells him with a laugh, slips it into his pocket with a smile. “Kidnapping it. If you ever want to see it again, call that number, and we’ll negotiate.”
Nicholas can’t keep the smile from his face for the rest of his day.
They go out for drinks a few nights later. Nicholas hadn’t even bothered to try and ‘keep Hangeng waiting’ before calling him. They already got along just fine, what was the point? Besides that…Nicholas just couldn’t wait to see him again, really.
He’s happy to find that Hangeng is still easy to talk to, and they still have plenty of things left to talk about. Whilst they sit at their table, refilling their drinks and snacking in-between, they share their experiences of ‘home’ with each other. For Hangeng, it’s China and Nicholas its Hong Kong.
“I still miss it, sometimes,” Hangeng admits, his voice quiet as he sips slowly on his drink. “Like when it rains, it sounds different, at home.”
For the first time in a long time, Nicholas is hit with a pang of longing himself, a longing for home, for Hong Kong, the familiar streets he hasn’t walked in years, the faces he hasn’t seen in what feels like forever, the way the rain sounds as it covers the streets back home.
He smiles at Hangeng, understanding exactly what he means.
They meet regularly, every Thursday at the coffee shop during lunchtime. Apparently Nicholas isn’t the only one of them that finds socializing with each other simple, easy and enjoyable. He’s glad, actually, really glad, because already, after just two weeks of talking to Hangeng, Nicholas has the feeling that they could be really good friends.
Hangeng still has his pen, he never did give it back, and he uses it to fill in the word puzzles he does in his paper. Nicholas helps him, sometimes, when he can’t get one of the clues.
They always overrun with their time when they meet each other, though. Even when Nicholas has to get back to work, or Hangeng has things to do, they just end up sitting there and talk and talk and talk, it’s as if neither of them can help themselves, really.
Well, Nicholas knows he can’t, at least. He’s pretty surprised to admit it, but he’s captivated by Hangeng, entranced. There’s just this something about him that captures Nicholas’s attention and won’t let go.
And he likes it. Nicholas actually likes it, the way they are, the way this feels. He likes it, and keeps hoping things will only progress further.
“It’s strange, I’ve never found anyone so easy to be around, before,” Hangeng tells him over dinner one night. Nicholas had taken them to a nice Thai restaurant he liked, and now they’re just sitting at their table enjoying after-meal drinks and talking.
“I know what you mean,” Nicholas agrees. Usually, with his dates, he likes to play charming, a little, likes to be kind of cool, a little bit smooth. But he can’t with Hangeng. He’s found it’s just about impossible to be anything but himself around him. And he actually likes it. Hangeng makes him feel at ease, so Nicholas doesn’t mind letting him in, letting him see more of him than he’s usually willing to allow.
“It feels like more than just a few weeks, doesn’t it?” Hangeng continues, then flushes a little, as if he’s embarrassed by how much he’s saying, or afraid that Nicholas doesn’t reciprocate. “Sorry, I don’t usually talk like this.”
Nicholas smiles and shakes his head, reaches over the table between them and lays his hand over Hangeng’s, fingers warm beneath his own. “Yeah, it really does.”
After they eat Nicholas offers to walk Hangeng back to his apartment, which makes Hangeng laugh, “Why, what a gentleman you are!” Nicholas grins at that.
It’s not too far from the restaurant to Hangeng’s place, and it’s quite a nice evening, so they walk it, sharing even more stories as they make their way down the streets, this time they talk about their childhood. Hangeng was a well behaved little boy, whilst Nicholas had always had a mischievous streak in him.
They’re about a block away from Hangeng’s apartment, Hangeng laughing at one of Nicholas’s anecdotes, when the Heavens just seem to open up right above them, catches them by surprise. Nicholas curses and Hangeng squeals a little.
“Quick, come on,” he says, takes hold of Nicholas’s hand and tugs him quickly down the street, almost jogging. They’re getting completely soaked through, he can already feel his clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin, but all Nicholas can really focus on is the way Hangeng’s cold, wet fingers slip so easily in between his own.
They get to the door, Hangeng having to drop Nicholas’s hand to fumble through his pockets, find his key. Nicholas reaches out, takes hold of Hangeng’s arm and pulls him round to face him. For a moment they just look at each other, hair wet and dripping into their eyes, clothes plastered to their skin. But Nicholas doesn’t care about any of that.
He tugs Hangeng towards him, leans in close himself, and presses their mouths firmly together. He can feel Hangeng’s surprise, but then, only a moment later, Hangeng kisses him back, and Nicholas knows he made the right move.
After what seems an eternity, their mouths pressing greedily together, the only part of either that is remotely warm, they pull apart. Hangeng is shivering in Nicholas’s arms, and perhaps it’s not just from the cold water that drips down the back of his neck.
He smiles crookedly at Nicholas, pulls him towards the door. “Come on, I can’t send you home soaking wet.”
It’s the first time they have sex. Their skin is cold and still wet from the rain, but their fingers are soft and their mouths are warm and Hangeng’s body is hot. It wasn’t planned, really, but Hangeng had peeled off his wet shirt and Nicholas had been unable to help himself.
They meet in a mixture of wet, hungry mouths, firm hands and rocking hips. Hangeng lies beneath him, open and inviting, Nicholas’s name falling from his kiss-swollen lips, and Nicholas leans above him, covers Hangeng’s body like the warmest, most intimate of blankets, and takes them both to a place far above cold rain water and howling wind.
Hangeng is breathless and shivering when they’re finished, and Nicholas pulls the warm blankets over them both, turns and takes Hangeng into his arms. It feels oddly right, to be here, and Nicholas finds, for the first time in a long time with another person, he doesn’t have anything to worry about.
The rain can still be heard, pitter-pattering on the streets outside, although now it sounds comforting, almost like home. Not quite, but almost.
Hangeng presses close against Nicholas, settles comfortably against him, and now, now, they’re warm.
“My last relationship ended badly,” Hangeng admits one night, voice a whisper. His fingers trace useless, lazy patterns over Nicholas’s lower stomach. Those soft fingertips send a shiver through his skin.
He turns his head and glances over at Hangeng. The blankets have only been pulled up to his waist, so Nicholas can treat himself to a nice, long look at the other man’s naked torso, greedily drinking in the sight with his eyes.
“Don’t worry, so did mine,” Nicholas replies after a few moments. It’s the first time either of them has really mentioned past relationships, or anything to do with relationships at all, really. Not sure why, but they’d avoided the subject, up until now, anyway.
Nicholas reaches out with one hand, traces the firm muscles of Hangeng’s arm with his fingers, smiles at him. His skin is still hot to the touch after their lovemaking, traces of sweat still clinging tightly to the skin.
Hangeng looks over at him, smiles back at him, and Nicholas can see the trust shining in his eyes. He’s a little surprised, to be honest, wonders for just a moment if perhaps they’re moving too fast here. But then Hangeng’s hand takes hold of his own and threads their fingers together, a perfect fit, and Nicholas stops thinking at all.
- end -