#kenlao

Kenshi wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and raised his fist to knock on the door. Rapping three times on the door, Kenshi shoved his hand back into pant pocket and tried to look as nonchalant as possible when he heard Kung Lao open the door.

“Kenshi?! What are you doing here?” Kung Lao sounded very much surprised, and Kenshi could imagine how his eyebrows were raised in surprise.

“Surprise?” Kenshi smiled but internally smacked himself for saying such a cheesy line.

“Oh my god! Let me get your suitcase! Come in! Come in! Shoes off though.”

Kenshi just laughed at the comment and reached his hand out. Kung Lao took it and led the swordsman inside his home. Kenshi could hear Kung Lao kicking around some things on the floor to try and make a clearer path for the swordsman to walk around the home, and Kenshi could feel Kung Lao’s head grow warm and sweaty as though he was embarrassed.

“Sorry about the mess. Um, here, wait on the couch, I’ll bring something for you to eat. You must be starving!” Kung Lao led Kenshi to the couch, throwing something from the couch onto the floor, and made sure that the swordsman had sat down before sprinting over to the kitchen. Kenshi listened to Kung Lao running about the kitchen, opening and slamming the fridge door before opening it again because he forgot something in there. The swordsman breathed in the scent of Kung Lao’s home: it was an earthy smell with a small hint of something spicy. Kenshi couldn't stop himself from smiling. He had missed being around Kung Lao.

“Here, some fruit.” Kung Lao placed a hefty bowl into Kenshi’s lap and the swordsman raised an eyebrow at how large the bowl seemed. “So…why’re you here?”

Kenshi felt the other flop down right next to him and blushed when he felt their thighs squish against each other.

“Sorry, it’s a loveseat. Didn’t think I needed a bigger couch since I’m living alone.” Kung Lao explained, reaching into the fruit bowl in Kenshi’s lap and munching on something crisp. Kenshi gathered his thoughts, trying to ignore how his side was pressed flush against Kung Lao’s and how he could feel the definition of Kung Lao’s muscles through his thin shirt. It didn’t help that the two of them were quite large, and the loveseat was quite small.

“I got some time off and thought that I might come and visit you.” Kenshi replied, feeling around the food bowl and identifying slices of apples, slices of mandarins, and some grapes in the bowl. Kenshi popped a grape into his mouth to try and calm himself a bit more when he felt Kung Lao shift and put his arm on the back of the couch, his arm grazing the back of Kenshi’s neck.

“Oh! I mean- I’m glad you came to me, but, uh, why not Raiden? He’s got a…cleaner home.” Kung Lao’s voice dropped off at the end, and he shifted in his seat a bit uncomfortably.

“I wanted to see you.” Kenshi answered, hoping that the comment would placate Kung Lao and that his face didn’t betray his racing heart. The other man was silent, and Kenshi munched on an apple slice, hoping that the silence meant that Kung Lao was just a bit dumbstruck and not grossed-out.

“I was hoping to take you to Madam Bo’s?” Kenshi mumbled out the question, trying to fill in the silence of the room, but when Kung Lao didn’t answer, Kenshi felt his stomach drop. The swordsman passed the fruit bowl into Kung Lao’s lap and stood up.

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll just-” Kenshi reached for his cane and suitcase, intent on leaving and booking a ticket to go back to LA and drown himself in alcohol.

“Wait, wait! I’d love to go to Madam Bo’s with you! I mean-yeah, of course, why wouldn’t you want to come to Madam Bo’s with me? I’m just that cool, and um…yeah.” Kung Lao gripped onto Kenshi’s wrist and tugged him back onto the couch. Kenshi slowly sat down, a heat spreading across his face as Kung Lao pushed the fruit bowl back into Kenshi’s lap and leaned into the swordsman’s warmth.

Kenshi gripped the bowl tightly in his hands, grounding himself back into reality as the realization that he just scored a date with Kung Lao settled into his head. His mind felt buzzed, as if he had just drank a few shots, and Kenshi fully believed that if he wanted to, he could fly.

“So, um. I’ll take it that means you like me too?” Kung Lao asked in a meek voice. It was so quiet that Kenshi almost missed it. Too? Kung Lao liked him back? Forget flying, Kenshi could ascend to heaven right now.

Without answering, Kenshi turned to face Kung Lao. He placed his hand onto Kung Lao’s chest and felt the Shaolin’s heart pound underneath his fingertips. Gaining confidence when he heard Kung Lao’s breath hitch, Kenshi trailed his fingers up to trace Kung Lao’s neck and then cupped his face. The swordsman leaned in a little bit, a silent ask for permission. Kung Lao closed the distance, his hand flying up to cusp the back of Kenshi’s neck and bring them closer together. Kenshi’s heart was ablaze, like a fire burning in his chest. Kung Lao tasted sweet, like an oasis in the middle of a desert or the best pastry in the world. The Shaolin’s hands were holding onto the swordsman roughly, but his lips were soft and inviting. Kenshi could live like this forever, oxygen be damned. He deepened the kiss and brought his other hand up to hold Kung Lao in his arms.

Distantly, Kenshi heard something clatter to the floor and ignored it, but Kung Lao pulled away at the sound, Kenshi still leant forward to try and chase Kung Lao’s plush lips. He heard a shriek come from the man.

“The fruit!” Kung Lao immediately jumped from Kenshi’s lap, and the swordsman immediately missed the warmth. He could hear Kung Lao pick up the fruit on the ground, before running off to the kitchen and turning on the faucet, presumably washing the fruit of the dust of the ground. Kenshi leaned back onto the couch, pressing the heel of his palms into his eyelids as he tried to calm his beating heart. If it beat any faster, he was going to have a heart attack. 

Kung Lao cleaned the fruit and the floor like a mad man, but when Kung Lao was done. Kenshi felt the Shaolin settle into Kenshi’s lap, the swordsman’s hands going to Kung Lao’s waist instinctually. He squeezed at Kung Lao’s waist, still amazed at how slim it was, and Kung Lao yelped, slapping at the swordsman’s chest.

“Don’t do that…please.” Kung Lao weakly protested, but Kenshi had heard the small whimper that had escaped the Shaolin. The swordsmans smiled wickedly and squeezed Kung Lao’s waist again, causing him to let out a small whine and grind down onto Kenshi’s lap.

“How about we skip Madam Bo’s and go straight to dessert?” Kenshi pulled down Kung Lao’s head for another kiss, and the Shaolin melted into the swordsman’s lap.

When Kung Lao came into the academy the next day, his hand interlaced with Kenshi’s and walking a bit funny, Raiden just smiled and clapped Kung Lao on his back.