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Wen Kexing wakes with the sun.
The blinds in A-Xu’s little one-bedroom apartment do little to keep out the morning light. A-Xu must’ve gotten used to it, though, because he sleeps on even though his face is placed directly in the light.
Wen Kexing lies on his back, A-Xu half sprawled over his body with his left knee wedged under Wen Kexing’s thigh and his arms wrapped around Wen Kexing’s torso. His face is buried in the space under Wen Kexing’s collarbones. His arms are wrapped tightly around A-Xu’s shoulders, elbows jutting into his sides. It can’t be comfortable- both of them are too skinny, too angular to be piled on top of each other like this- but A-Xu nuzzles further into his chest, and a burning love spills in his chest and floods to his face, where he’s sure he’s grinning like an idiot.
How lucky I am, he muses, to still be alive.
His A-Xu wakes to a hand rubbing his shoulder blades and another in his hair, gently combing through the strands. It’s late enough that Gu Xiang has started breakfast for herself and Chengling, both too afraid to ask Wen Kexing this early after an unfortunate incident with an unlocked door and lace panties.
(If you ask Wen Kexing, he’ll cheerily place the blame on A-Xiang for not knocking. If you ask darling A-Xu, he’ll curse at you and flush all the way up to his ears, because as much as he’s loath to admit it he likes those panties and likes them even more stained with Wen Kexing’s spend. Just the thought of it makes his mouth dry. He reluctantly pushes the fantasy away.)
“Good morning, A-Xu,” Wen Kexing murmurs, smiling. A-Xu raises his head to blink blearily at him. There’s a spot of drool on his chin and red sleep lines over his forehead and cheekbones, sure to match Wen Kexing’s sweater.
Wen Kexing loves him, terribly and irrevocably.
“Nngh,” A-Xu mumbles in return before dropping his face to burrow in Wen Kexing’s sweater again.
“A-Xuuuuuu,” Wen Kexing says, poking at his cheek and narrowly avoiding the bite that follows. “Chengling needs to leave for school soon. Surely you won’t send our son away without a lunch?”
“He can make his own,” A-Xu grumbles. It sounds more like ee kn make is uhn, muffled by the sweater.
They both know he absolutely cannot. It’s one of the many ways he takes after his shifu.
He means to get his lazy soulmate out of bed- tired or not, Wen Kexing does need to make Chengling his lunch-
But A-Xu’s raised his head to look at him with a strangle glint in his eye, suddenly and startlingly awake. He slides down Wen Kexing’s torso, ignoring his mou of distress, trailing his fingers towards down his stomach and into the waistband of his pajama bottoms and suddenly Wen Kexing is very, very interested in where this is going.
It’s rare that A-Xu is this direct with what he wants. Often he still needs to work through his urge to be contrarian- Wen Kexing loves pushing and prodding until his A-Xu starts begging, he really does- but sometimes it’s nice to have A-Xu initiate things like this.
He props himself on his elbows to get a better view of A-Xu as he disappears beneath the blanket. He can feel A-Xu’s palms, hot through the fabric of his pants as he slides them over his hips. He’s already leaking through his briefs- A-Xu huffs out a laugh when he sees it.
“Needy, Lao Wen,” he says, muffled by the blanket.
“Only for my A-Xu,” Wen Kexing says, breathless. He can feel the heat of A-Xu’s mouth over the tent in his briefs- just a centimeter further, and-
The heat, both his palms and his mouth, slides up to his stomach. Wen Kexing only gets a moment of confusion before calloused palms grasp the sides of his waist and A-Xu bites, digging his teeth into the meat of his stomach.
“A- Xu!” Wen Kexing yelps, hands batting at his lover’s head. “You tease,” he whines, falling back against the pillows and pouting as A-Xu emerges from the blankets, ruddy-cheeked and smirking.
“You said it yourself, Lao Wen. Chengling needs to leave for school soon. Surely you won’t send our son away without a lunch?” He parrots, and slides out of bed faster than Wen Kexing can wrap his arms around him and insist that maybe Chengling can make his own lunch for once, and that surely it’ll be fine if he’s hungry because Wen Kexing is suddenly and unexpectedly starving, and if he’s hungry because of Chengling then Chengling can be hungry because of Wen Kexing.
It’s not sudden. Or unexpected. A-Xu shoots him an exasperated side eye as he leaves their bedroom.
“Chengling is a teenager, Lao Wen. He’s still growing- he needs food. You, on the other hand…” he trails off purposefully and laughs when Wen Kexing makes a wounded noise and grasps his midriff.
“A-Xu, look at how you treat me! I warm your bed and slave away to please you and all you can tell me is that I’m indulging wrongly in the fruits of my own labor,” he bemoans dramatically.
“Of course it’s wrong. Your husband and children are hungry. You think a good wife satisfies her own needs before her family’s?” A-Xu snipes back, laughing. He leaves the room before Wen Kexing can react, and subsequently misses Wen Kexing’s love-stricken grin, wide and beaming like a fool.