Work Text:
When, Shen Wei wonders, did the urge to touch, to hold, become this altered, rawer desire? Was it having a lollipop pointed at him with suspicion, by a man who refuses to remember him? When Zhao Yunlan fell in beside him, in perfect step, and listened almost as well as Kunlun had?
Suspicion is warranted, but it burns. Lies are necessary, but they are bitter on his tongue. Zhao Yunlan watches him with distrust and desire by turns, leans into the space of Shen Wei’s body again and again and again, and Shen Wei clenches his fists around the need to catch his taunting body and pin it down.
Stepping into Zhao Yunlan’s home is a mistake, but he doesn’t leave. Under the old wine, garbage, and sweat, there is the smell of cat and man, steeped and lived into the room itself. Shen Wei cleans away the mess, and watches Zhao Yunlan sleep.
His self-indulgence saves the exposure of his identity.
And yet even the close call cannot stop the way his throat closes with wanting, as Zhao Yunlan sprawls backwards, body open. Lifts coy eyes, teasing smile.
Soon, Shen Wei fears-
- anticipates-
-he will stop holding himself back.