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Their evenings together became more and more frequent. Just the two of them, sharing drinks and conversation, occasionally making time for other activities that they could only indulge in when completely alone. It took some time to get used to, but Zhou Zishu was nothing if not adaptable.
These might be the happiest days of his life, he thought with sardonic amusement. The years that he spent surviving rather than truly living were hardly competition to his situation now, when he owed nothing to anyone except for himself and the people he loved.
The person he loved the most was also his biggest headache, but that could hardly be helped.
A long sigh interrupted his thoughts and Zhou Zishu looked over to see Wen Kexing hypnotising his empty wine cup with a forlorn expression on his face, tilting it here and there in his fingers.
Zhou Zishu raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”
“Ah, nothing.” Wen Kexing heaved another sigh, and glanced at Zhou Zishu coquettishly through his eyelashes. “I am just thinking about the flavour of this wine. It’s nothing extraordinary, wouldn’t you agree?”
“It’s fine,” Zhou Zishu shrugged. While he had his preferences, the alcohol content was his main concern, and the wine they chose for the evening was perfectly satisfactory in that regard.
“Yes, it’s simply fine,” Wen Kexing said, setting the cup down and, despite his words, poured himself another serving. He downed the whole thing in moments. “Its flavour can be further enhanced, in my opinion,” he declared, delicately dabbing at the nonexistent drops of wine on his mouth.
Zhou Zishu knew that he was walking directly into a trap. “And you know exactly how to do that, is that it?”
“Of course.” Wen Kexing’s lips quirked up in a mischievous smile as he scooted closer, hand reaching out for his partner’s sleeve. His long, spider-like fingers sank into the fabric in a firm grasp, breaking it up into a swirl of folds.
Zhou Zishu pretended that he did not see the action; he nonchalantly grabbed their shared wine bottle with his free hand and took a sip from it directly. He could feel Wen Kexing’s sharp eyes track the movement.
“A-Xu,” Wen Kexing murmured, flattening his hand over the cloth in his hold, “Why don’t you indulge me this one time?”
Zhou Zishu raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You are spoilt, lao-Wen.”
Wen Kexing grinned slyly in response and slowly pulled on the sleeve, and Zhou Zishu went with the motion, allowing the other man to drag him close and gather him in his arms, head resting against his chest. He huffed as a strand of Wen Kexing’s hair brushed against his nose; the culprit laughed and leaned down to kiss Zhou Zishu.
After the first kiss came the second, third, fourth, each one messier than the last. Zhou Zishu allowed himself to relax completely and sank into his partner’s embrace, lazily responding to the affections lavished upon him. Wen Kexing was only satisfied once his partner’s lips were red and plump from the attention.
“I was right,” he murmured, long fingers gently stroking Zhou Zishu’s cheek; the other man hummed inquisitively. “You make the wine taste so much better.”
He leaned back in to press gentle kisses to the corner of the other man’s mouth, his cheek, his chin. Zhou Zishu contemplated for a few moments whether or not he wanted to banter over this, and upon further reflection realised that he did not wish to be difficult right now at all. He was too relaxed and happy to put on his usual disgruntled front, like a well-loved cat. His eyelashes fluttered as Wen Kexing’s lips brushed against the corner of his eye.
He was a lovesick fool just as much as Wen Kexing, if not more. Two fools, tied together for life. What a pair they made.
“How bold of you,” Zhou Zishu finally said without venom, relishing in the feeling of Wen Kexing’s lips peppering small kisses on his face.
Wen Kexing laughed quietly and leaned away from Zhou Zishu to take a gulp of wine straight from the bottle. When he took a second sip, he tilted Zhou Zishu’s head more upright, thumb pressing down on his bottom lip insistently, then kissed him again.
The gesture was clumsy, most of the wine spilling out and ticklishly running down Zhou Zishu’s chin. He made a noise of surprise, struggling to swallow down the small amount of liquid that did make its way into his mouth. He could feel his partner’s smugness, palpable through the kiss, his smile against his lips.
Full of annoyance and another emotion he could not quite name, — something akin to shocked delight, perhaps, — he surged up and bowled Wen Kexing over, the two of them landing on the floor in a haphazard mess. Zhou Zishu braced himself on his arm, finally gaining the upper hand and hovering over Wen Kexing. The action stunned the other man only for a few moments, before he desperately clawed at Zhou Zishu’s many layers to pull him down, closer. Zhou Zishu could not help feeling pleased as he locked lips with him again. Wen Kexing responded eagerly.
It was unknown how long the two of them squirmed on the floor, grasping at each other’s robes, hands wandering over cloth and eventually skin, as if trying to mold their two bodies into one. After a while, it was Wen Kexing who pulled away and lightly rested the tips of his fingers on Zhou Zishu’s lips, gasping for breath. There was a peony-red flush high on his cheekbones, loose strands of hair scattered all over his face; his eyes were bright, sparkling.
Zhou Zishu could not help but feel endeared. He tenderly brushed the hair out of his partner’s face, and leaned down to press a kiss on his forehead. This earned him a small chuckle, and he felt Wen Kexing’s arms snake around his waist.
They had all night.