toothae



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    "I'm not going to die of spoiled blood," Zhou Zishu groans, "Good heavens, Lao Wen ah."

    "Indeed not! I won't let you," Wen Kexing agrees, and threads the needle. They fall silent as he stitches the wound closed. He can feel Zhou Zishu's eyes on his face, but he doesn't dare look up to meet his gaze; he doesn't want to prick him by accident. No, Zhou Zishu will not die of spoiled blood.

    --

    Evening, night, and morning at Four Seasons Manor.

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    18 Apr 2021

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    “We’re going home,” Zhou Zishu huffs when he pulls Wen Kexing’s arms over his shoulders, then hitches his legs around his waist. He hops in place to get a good grip under the bends of his knees, then makes sure his robe is covering as much of Wen Kexing as it can. “If you die before we get there, the first thing Shixiong will do when we see each other on Naihe Bridge is hit you.”

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    18 Apr 2021

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    But that’s not why he waits for Zhou Zishu. And really, at this point, it’s more like Zhou Zishu is waiting for him.

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    18 Apr 2021

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    “A’Xu,” Wen Kexing remarks conversationally as he fans himself. “How do you feel about gagging me the next time we fuck?”

    Zhou Zishu chokes on his tea.


    aka, that time I tried to write pwp and instead ended up with whatever this is—ratio of slice of life domestic fluff to smut is approximately 8:2 so. make of that what you will. ٩( ᐛ )و
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    08 Apr 2021

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    “I said enough,” Zhou Zishu repeats, hooking a finger under the leather before he can think about it. His knuckle grazes Wen Kexing’s vertebra—he feels the way the makeshift choker presses against Wen Kexing’s windpipe, hears his surprised gasp.

    Wen Kexing falls silent immediately, stops mid-stride.

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    08 Apr 2021

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