“you talk too much. of course i love you too.” for wenzhou? :3
A/N: Vera, my darling! 💕 Sorry this took a hot minute to write 😅
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Zishu licks the last taste of pear blossom wine off his lips. They really should stock the cellars at the rate that they're going through the bottles of liquor that'd made up the bulk of the Manor's collection. He would feel guilty about drinking through his Shifu's painstakingly curated array but he reasons that it was worth it to crack a new bottle and share them with Lao Wen.
The same Lao Wen who has his bare calves thrown over Zishu's lap, brow furrowed in deep concentration, and ink smudge fingers holding his brush in a flurry of strokes to paper.
Zishu takes a moment to admire his beloved. The dappled sunlight through the eaves if the trees dances on his skin, trailing across his jaw and down the peek of skin between the loosened collars of his robe.
Irrationally, he feels an itch in the backs of his teeth form at the alluring way the light dips down his torso, then down the parting of his simple robe that begins to slip to either sides of his thighs.
Creamy hints of inner thigh tempt his heart into a stutter and even before he reaches out to touch, Lao Wen shifts, tossing his hair behind him.
"Here, Ah Xu listen to this," Lao Wen says, setting his writing utensils on the grass next to him.
"Love was only a word that sought a home, a burrow, a nest to roost. It is only made powerful when those who use it are able to feed into the way it binds them and ties them into an inexplicable fate--"
Zishu stops him with a kiss. Giving in to the constant ardency in him when it comes to his beloved is still a lot of getting used to, but he wouldn't trade it for the world especially when he can turn Lao Wen pliant with just a kiss.
The dazed look on those brown eyes has him feeling some kind of wonder and it sparks a sort of power that hits heady and thick in his mind.
"You talk too much," Zishu says, lips brushing over the smooth sun warmed skin. "Of course I love you too."
“I,” Lao Wen stutters, cherry red lips parting on an exhale. “You do?”
The quiet worry in those words makes his heart ache. Softly, pressing every bit of affection, devotion, and adoration he can into it, he chases the ghost taste of pear blossom wine on Lao Wen’s tongue until they tumble back into the shadowed grass, laughing breathlessly, languid and loose in the sunshine.
Zishu brushes back the stray stands of hair from Lao Wen’s eyes, smiling, darting into peck the tip of that lovely nose.
“I do. With every part of my heart, body and soul that came alive when I met you, I do,” He promises, tangling their hands together. Meeting the sweetness in Lao Wen’s gaze, he exhales, content to just exist here in the light.
