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"Chengling is sleeping!" Zhou Zishu pushes Wen Kexing's face away. This of course doesn't deter him. Instead, he slings his arm around Zhou Zishu's shoulders and pulls him in so he can whisper in his ear.

"Then you'll just have to be very. Very. Quiet." Wen Kexing's hot breath tickles his skin and the heat from his words goes straight to Zhou Zishu's dick.

Zhou Zishu lets his head thunk back against the wall and tries very hard to to think about anything other than the promise of Wen Kexing's mouth. But all he can conjure up are the sound of glass shattering, the sharp crack of a door slamming in grand entrance, the satisfying thrill of snapping the neck of the man who'd kidnapped Chengling—none of these does anything to calm him.

Wen Kexing licks a strip up his neck with the flat of his tongue, and Zhou Zishu has to bite his tongue to stifle his moan. The contrast of cool air over after the slick heat, the way Wen Kexing does it again, this time over the place where he's already left sucking bruises on his throat. Zhou Zishu's fingers curl into the shirt of the love of his life.

Zhou Zishu's blood is still hot, rushing through him. The danger, the fear for Chengling, the fight that felt like slipping on an old skin. When he'd faltered, his body betraying him while faced with the deadly female half of the Four Assassins, Wen Kexing had raged into the warehouse, like a revenging ghost.

Zhou Zishu had never been so turned on in his life.

Except perhaps right now, with Wen Kexing's hands under his t-shirt and his mouth sucking another mark on his neck. One of his thighs presses up between Zhou Zishu's legs. They're on the the bed of the shitty motel they'd found on their way back into town. Wen Kexing chuckles around the bit of Zhou Zishu's skin caught between his teeth when Zhou Zishu twitches in a full body shudder, desire racing hot and fast to pool in his belly. He spreads his legs wider, seeking friction. It's all he can do to keep himself from humping up against Wen Kexing like a dog.

"Is that a yes?" Wen Kexing asks with a flirtatious grin. "Are you no longer concerned for your kid's innocent ears?"

Zhou Zishu doesn't dignify that with an answer, opting for grabbing a handful of Wen Kexing's hair and shoving his head toward his crotch. Chengling is exhausted, drugged up, and dead asleep. He'll be fine.

Wen Kexing laughs that delighted chuckle that always accompanies his flirting. It's obnoxious. It's wonderful. He lets his hands slide down Zhou Zishu's sides as he goes down on him, more sensation that sets Zhou Zishu's skin buzzing and his blood pounding. Then the fucker pulls the waistband of his track pants down with his teeth in a move so hot, Zhou Zishu retaliates by clenching his fist in Wen Kexing's hair and grinding up against his face. Wen Kexing groans—quietly—and mouths at his cock through his underwear, breath hot and sticky and exhilarating.

Zhou Zishu watches, entranced, his own heart beating hard, and wonders how he found such a perfect match. The intensity on his face when Wen Kexing made his dramatic entrance. The murder in his eyes as he'd cased the situation in an glance before going to town in a flurry of moves that looked more like dancing than fighting. Pure grace. Pure power.

The same power in those hands that are now slipping under his waistband and caressing Zhou Zishu's hips as Wen Kexing's teeth pull down his briefs.

Zhou Zishu gasps when his cock finally bobs free. He pushes against those deadly hands, relaxing into their strength when Wen Kexing's fingers tighten. Wen Kexing looks up at him through his lashes with he same smoldering intensity as before the fight. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips, and Zhou Zishu has barely a moment to melt from the sight before they're wrapping around the tip of his cock.

He jerks uncontrollably, back arching, hips still pinned, and—fuckfuckfuckfuck—that mouth—his mouth—Zhou Zishu can't think, can barely breathe as pleasure floods through him. His dick throbs.

He can't look away either. Wen Kexing's gaze has enthralled him and doesn't break when he leans forward to take more of Zhou Zishu's cock in his mouth. Zhou Zishu is pinned by that look like a butterfly on a board. Cracked open and fucking seen for the first time in—in—

But the important thing is Wen Kexing's hot hot mouth, the flex of his tongue under the sensitive bit of the head—the way he pushes forward and takes more until Zhou Zishu is going to die when his cock bumps up against the back of his throat, the way he sucks.

"Lao Wen," Zhou Zishu pants. He has to cover his mouth then to keep from keening as Wen Kexing finally closes his eyes and starts blowing him in earnest, a sweet sweet curl of desire and pleasure filling Zhou Zishu as full as he's stuffing Wen Kexing's mouth. He goes lightheaded, lost in the building pleasure, his whole body like an electric wire. When Wen Kexing's hands tug, Zhou Zishu lets go his control, lets his hips fuck upward as far as Wen Kexing will let him, and trusts—he trusts—Wen Kexing to catch him when the wave of orgasm crests over him and he spills hard down his throat.

Zhou Zishu floats for a moment, empty and full, blissful and breathless.

Wen Kexing's hands smooth back up his sides once more as he crawls up to set his chin on Zhou Zishu's chest, a pleased cat with a smug grin.

Zhou Zishu wraps his arms around him and tries not to smile, but it's a lost cause. He feels too good and he can't look away from this beautiful man in his arms. He can feel Wen Kexing's hard on against him, the slow rock of his hips accompanying the kisses Wen Kexing presses to Zhou Zishu's collarbone. But they have time. Wen Kexing showed up in time.

"How did you find us?" Zhou Zishu asks when he catches his breath. He traces Wen Kexing's cheek with his finger. He doesn't have so much as a bruise from the fight.

Wen Kexing turns his head enough to kiss his wrist, sending a lazy shiver through Zhou Zishu.

"I'll always find you," he says. And then he leans forward and captures Zhou Zishu's mouth, like he's sealing a promise. Zhou Zishu tugs him more firmly on top of him, held down—anchored—and kisses him back.