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"Ah! What the fuck, man?! I'm eating here, you fucking brute!"
Zhou Zishu surveys the glare the man is throwing at him over his shoulder from where he's pinned face down bent over the counter of the noodle shop Zhou Zishu found him in.
"I'm sure," he drawls, cuffing the bastard, "that they'll feed you in prison. Might even be noodles there, one day a week or so."
Somehow, his detainee manages to turn pale with horror and red with outrage at once.
"A fucking cop? This isn't allowed! What grounds do you have to arrest me on?"
The owner of the noodle shop is watching the whole exchange with raised eyebrows, having taken a step back from the counter when his customer was manhandled quite suddenly onto it. He looks a bit like he's watching a show, but Zishu supposes anyone running a business in this city has seen their fair share of grimy and plain old weird shit.
A plain clothes arrest is far from the strangest thing that could be happening right now.
Zhou Zishu sighs. "Save it. You've been under surveillance for weeks now. Not my fault you're too dull to notice."
To punctuate his point, Zishu yanks the back of the man's shirt up. There he finds an expansive and detailed tattoo of a ghostly face, as incriminating as a scarlet letter.
This time, there is no flush of outrage. Only the paling face of a criminal going cold with the realization that they're caught.
Oddly enough, the handcuffed man turns his head to look at the owner of the shop with desperate expectation, like he's expecting some kind of help.
What he gets is the elegant, long haired man snapping a fan open - a handheld fan? In this day and age? - and peering over it as he leans forward to look at the man's back.
Once he sets eyes on the tattoo he gasps and reels back, all wide eyed innocence. "A Ghost? In my establishment? How terrifying!"
Zishu scoffs. It seems to take the beautiful man by surprise, like he was expecting the usual cop assurances that all is well.
Instead, he says, "You run a business in the largest city on Planet Knockoff. This isn't the weirdest or most dangerous thing you've ever seen."
The shopkeeper laughs at his candor, a startled but delighted sound.
"For all that it is second fiddle, I suppose after making the first one uninhabitable this 'Planet Knockoff' is all we really deserve, isn't it?"
A fair point.
"Regardless," he purrs, looking at Zhou Zishu in a way that leaves no doubts as to his sexual preferences. "I'm deeply grateful that you're cleansing my poor little shop of such filth. I'll tell you what: next time you stop by, the meal is on me. How's that sound?"
Zhou Zishu gives him a glare that says he knows full well this man with the sleazy smile is hoping to make a meal of him, and marches his captive toward the door.
The Ghost keeps glancing back at the shopkeeper all the way out.
----
Zhou Zishu does not actually intend to return to the noodle guy with the hungry eyes. He could tell from that short interaction that the man was nothing but trouble, and he's not interested in men.
Ignoring, of course, that one time he'd gotten drunk at Beiyuan's place and ended up in bed with him and Wu Xi.
….okay twice. He may have drunk fucked his best friends twice, but that's beside the point.
He most certainly does not remember those occasions vividly, nor does sitting speared open on Wu Xi's cock while Beiyuan rides him and teases him for being overwhelmed feature in his wet dreams more often than any of the women he's had.
If his cock still twitches at the memory of Wu Xi with his fingers buried in him and Beiyuan laughingly saying at the side, Let up on his prostate little poison, you'll make him cry, that's nobody's business.
Ultimately, the decision to return to the noodle shop is a result of two things. Laziness and opportunism.
Zhou Zishu is hungry, maybe a week after he makes the arrest of that Ghost.
Zhou Zishu has not made himself a lunch. Again.
He is reduced to wasting money on buying something to eat. Again.
He has multiple options, but only one of them holds the holy grail that is a free meal.
….the noodle shop it is.
He walks, because he refuses to buy a hoverbike. He is of the firm opinion that people look ridiculous riding one and yes Beiyuan that includes you, no Beiyuan I do not want to borrow yours and I DEFINITELY don't want to take the even more ridiculous position of second rider while you cart me around on the stupid thing.
His legs work just fucking fine. They'd have to be broken, he thinks, and even then he'd probably prefer to crawl.
What he remembers of noodle guy is a superficial smirk and hungry eyes, a frightened act he didn't bother putting any effort into and the air of someone who's seen more than his fair share of rot in this world. What he gets when he walks in the second time is very different.
Instead of the dead eyed, hungry creature with predatory confidence, Zhou Zishu sets eyes on a human being.
There is only one patron in the shop at the moment. A young woman, sitting at the counter and swinging her feet and babbling non stop through a mouthful of food.
She seems very passionate about whatever story she's telling, and Zhou Zishu is shocked to see warm fondness in eyes he last saw as calculating and predatory.
Interesting.
The shop owner is sporting an amused little smile and leaning on the counter as he listens to her, waving that same fan lazily.
Zhou Zishu doesn't get long to take the scene in before those sharp eyes notice him and light up. The smile turns to a grin, and it screams mischief.
"Officer!" the man crows, straightening and making a flourishing gesture of welcome. "You haven't forgotten me after all! I'd begun to mourn the loss of my chance to...serve you."
Zhou Zishu wrinkles his nose and is about to say something scathing, but he's beaten to it by the girl at the counter. Her nose, too, is wrinkled.
"This is your hot cop?" she says, looking Zhou Zishu up and down. She's got her bowl of noodles in one hand and her chopsticks in the other. She puts neither down when she gets up to beat a hasty retreat.
"That's my cue to get the hell out of here," she grumbles as she passes, the face of the shop owner going open and offended for a moment as he calls after her.
"Aiyoh, you brat! That's my bowl! Hey! Hey!"
"Let me guess," Zhou Zishu drawls as he approaches the counter, taking a seat. "Your sister?"
The man scoffs, face sour as if it will hide his fondness. "A scourge," he corrects.
Zhou Zishu huffs. "Definitely related to you, then."
He nearly breaks his poker face at the affronted sound and expression he's met with.
"Ah, we've not even exchanged names yet! How can you be so cruel to me?"
"Zhou Xu," Zishu responds briskly. He uses a fake one for two reasons. One, he's not entirely convinced this man is nothing but a business owner, not with the calculating eyes and the way that Ghost had kept looking at him. Two...well, he seems like the stalker type, and Zhou Zishu doesn't want to find the bastard in his living room later. "I was promised free food."
Instantly, the pouting offense turns into a grin again. "That you were, A-Xu," the bastard croons, unfazed by the scowl Zhou Zishu aims at him. "I am Wen Kexing. What would you like, Officer Zhou? On the house."
"I don't care."
Wen Kexing blinks. "You don't care?"
"I don't care. Just give me food. I'm not picky."
Wen Kexing clicks his tongue. "Well, then. I'll just have to choose for you, won't I? I bet I can give it to you just how you like," he purrs, offering a delighted laugh at the way Zhou Zishu scowls and his ears go hot even as he slips into the kitchen.
Zishu heaves an irritated sigh and leans back in his seat, looking around. It's not a bad place. Well kept and clean, classy in decoration if not a little fancy for his tastes.
He's surprised to see that the prices on the menu board are actually very reasonable, not at all what he would have expected from the decor.
Wen Kexing is something of a peacock, clearly, but apparently he doesn't feel the need to fleece his customers.
Hopefully the food is good enough to make up for his company.
It smells good, when the flashy bastard emerges from the kitchen with a bowl and a pair of chopsticks.
He sets it down in front of Zhou Zishu with a flourish, and Zhou Zishu has to admit that it looks and smells delicious.
Wheat noodles, vegetables, and some very convincing looking chicken; he can see the grease in the broth, but not too much grease. Hmm...alright. If it tastes as good as it looks, he might even have to come back again. For the price, it's a hell of a meal.
Wen Kexing is blessedly quiet as he tries it, and it's the first hint that cooking really is something this man enjoys. He's watching with keen eyes, waiting for a verdict on his soup.
It's good. It's really good. Actually, it's….
Zishu swallows and taps the bowl with his chopsticks a few times, brow furrowed in disbelief. "Is...is this real chicken?"
Wen Kexing swells with pride, grinning. "Of course. You won't find the lab grown stuff here."
Zhou Zishu is suitably shocked. Real meat is hard to come by nowadays. Farm animals are few and coveted, and their raising and distribution has long since been monopolized by a few rich and privileged companies. The average person can only afford the lab grown stuff, and food with real meat in it is nigh impossible to find outside the most expensive of restaurants.
"You like it?" Wen Kexing prods, eyes shining. Zhou Zishu nods, digging into his food with enthusiasm at the realization that he's eating real chicken noodle soup.
He'll definitely have to come back, and if he does acquire a stalker and find Wen Kexing in his living room eventually...well, his silence might just be bought if the bastard agrees to make good use of his kitchen.
"So I was wondering, Officer Zhou-"
Actually scratch that. That purring tone already makes him want to smack the guy, there's no way he'd survive prolonged exposure.
"-what would one have to do to be bent over and pinned by you like that poor little Ghost?"
Zhou Zishu almost chokes. He does cough a little, banging his chest and glaring at Wen Kexing’s leering figure.
He's languid and unashamed, fanning himself and making no attempt at hiding the desire in his eyes or playful smirk.
"Are you a criminal, Wen Kexing?" he asks wryly, still glaring even as he does the opposite of shut Wen Kexing’s advances down.
"Do I have to be?" Wen Kexing inquires in a tone that suggests a willingness to be whatever gets him a piece of Zhou Zishu.
"If you want to be arrested like that 'poor little Ghost'" Zishu responds, tone and eyes scathing.
Wen Kexing seems to consider that for a moment, before he sighs dramatically and collapses into a seat on the opposite side of the counter.
"Oh, Officer Zhou-"
Zhou Zishu rolls his eyes.
"I'm afraid I have a terrible confession to make. I am, in fact, a criminal. No! I am the criminal. It is no coincidence you arrested a Ghost in my humble little establishment; I'm a Ghost myself. As a matter of fact, I'm the leader of the Ghosts. There is none so dastardly as myself. Won't you take me in?"
Zhou Zishu stares flatly at the wide doe eyes being blinked pitifully at him, chewing a mouthful of noodles.
He suspected as much.
"And shut down the only affordable restaurant around that serves real chicken?" he responds. "Not likely."
Wen Kexing is visibly startled, breaking into genuine, hearty laughter that he tries to suppress, if only to put on a pout.
"A-Xu!" he whines, sticking his admittedly lovely lower lip out. "How can you put chicken above the law? W- where are you going? Hey! That's my bowl! Hey!"
----
Next Zhou Zishu visits Wen Kexing’s shop, the same young woman is there again. Just like last time, Wen Kexing is listening to her talk and offering little interjections that get her to bark a laugh or two.
He does not grin upon seeing Zhou Zishu this time, however. This time, he pouts.
"Ah," Wen Kexing says, straightening up and looking haughty. The girl is already looking at Zhou Zishu too. "The thief returns."
Zhou Zishu plasters on a mocking smile, approaching the counter and setting the stolen bowl down on it.
The girl laughs. "You took his bowl? Aren't you a cop?"
Zhou Zishu glances at her. "Recovery of stolen property. Job done."
Then, he turns to Wen Kexing and raises his eyebrows, shoving the bowl closer and sitting down. "Well?"
Wen Kexing sputters as his sister laughs uproariously, snatching the bowl and stomping towards the kitchen with a pout.
He doesn't hide the gleam of delight and amusement in his eyes very well.
"Maybe you're not all bad for a cop, Zhou Xu," the girl laughs, giving him a look of new appraisal.
Zishu raises a brow. "I see you know my name already. You are…?"
She snorts. "Of course I do, he hasn't shut up about you."
"A-Xiang!" comes a reprimanding shout from the kitchen.
She rolls her eyes. "I'm Gu Xiang."
"Gu Xiang," he says, nodding. "My condolences."
She gives him a baffled look.
"For having him as a brother," he clarifies, and she nearly chokes laughing so hard.
When Wen Kexing emerges from the kitchen, he sets a hot bowl of that same chicken noodle soup down with a fixed, fake smile, along with a glass of soda.
"Thank you ever so much, Officer Zhou," he says, "For recovering my precious kitchenware."
Zishu raises his brows and picks his chopsticks up. "So it's on the house again? You're too kind."
Wen Kexing doesn't directly respond to that, but he does snap at Gu Xiang to stop laughing.
After that, he drops his act and engages the both of them in conversation, seeming somewhat pleased that they seem to get along.
Zhou Zishu has all of a moment to wonder why there's a sudden gleam in his eye when he picks his soda up to take a drink for the first time before he's coughing on it and scrunching his face up in disgust.
"Are you alright, A-Xu?" Wen Kexing asks as he sets the cup back down with force, pounding his own chest.
He's plastered that faux innocence on his face again, but his eyes are shining with savage delight.
"Fine," Zhou Zishu rasps, glaring as he clears his windpipe.
Did you pour the whole shaker of salt into that, you pestilence?
"Fine?" Wen Kexing repeats, widening his eyes. "Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional?"
Zhou Zishu laughs. It's startled out of him, loud and deep. He's not heard that one before, and it's a good one.
Gu Xiang has certainly heard it before. If he'd been looking at her he would have seen her roll her eyes and mouth it along with Wen Kexing. He hit her with that one many times growing up, every time she tried to hide that something was wrong behind the word 'fine'.
"I think it takes one to know one, Lao Wen," Zhou Zishu chortles, shaking his head and going back to his food.
Wen Kexing’s face lights up with the nickname, snagging the soda off the counter. "Perhaps it does, A-Xu."
Gu Xiang stretches across the counter and brandishes her bowl for a refill as Wen Kexing moves to go get Zhou Zishu a drink that hasn't been tampered with, and Zhou Zishu pretends not to notice the ghost tattooed across the small of her back when her shirt rides up with the movement.
Wouldn't be enough to base an arrest off of anyway, he thinks dismissively. The Ghost Valley syndicate basically runs this city, there are plenty of wannabe young thugs who get a fake one tattooed on them.
He doesn't have to convince himself that's why he won't investigate, because he doesn't care enough about his job to feel guilty about turning a blind eye.
A job is a job.
Good food is a necessity.
----
Visits to the shop go much the same after that. Wen Kexing makes it abundantly clear that he wants nothing more than to fuck Zhou Zishu silly and Zhou Zishu eats good food, fails to truly shut him down, and blatantly ignores suspicious activity.
Nothing changes in their dynamic or the dance they do around each other for months, and when it finally does the change doesn't even happen in the restaurant itself.
Instead, it happens in an alley on a rainy night.
He'd been tailed on his way in to work this morning, so Zhou Zishu is not surprised that he still has a tail when he leaves that evening.
They're not even that bad of a tail, actually...just not good enough to get by him.
Zhou Zishu could often be found cutting through alleys on his way home at night, confident in his ability to protect himself.
This alley, on the other hand, does not shorten his walk home. He's ducked into it simply to tempt his tail into attacking. Playing their hand. He's got a canister of rain needles in one sleeve and handcuffs in his jacket pocket.
It's up to his tail which one gets used, honestly. Nobody will fault an officer for killing in self defense, and all will turn a blind eye to the needles being far from a standard or authorized weapon.
Law enforcement never stops being crooked like that.
Zhou Zishu pauses in his walking, pretends he's searching his pockets for his phone.
A few rapid footsteps later, there are hands on his shoulders turning him around and slamming him into the wet alley wall. Not that it matters, considering he has no umbrella and he has been walking in the rain.
There's a knife pressed to his throat immediately, and he fights not to smile at the glaring face inches from his.
Idiot. Can't see when someone's baiting him if it hits him in the head.
He doesn't recognize the man, but that's alright. He can bait information out of him, and if he can't he'll be identified by the police anyway. Just depends on whether that's by fingerprints or by corpse.
"Can I help you?" Zishu asks, uncowed by the sharp bite of metal against his throat.
The man sneers. "Don't play games with me, Officer Zhou. You think we didn't notice, huh? That we'd what? Buy that it was some kind of coincidence?"
Zhou Zishu raises an eyebrow. "I don't believe in coincidences, so probably not. Although I do wonder if you'd do me the honor of clarifying what it is I've done to earn your ire."
He has an idea.
A scoff. Zhou Zishu’s cool demeanor seems to anger the man. He was hoping for a frightened victim, Zishu supposes. To feel powerful and get to see a cop quivering in their boots.
"Are you stupid or what? You've been trampling all over our territory for months! Playing the fool and looking for a chance to catch us out. Catch the boss out. Like we - like I'd let you bring him down!"
Zhou Zishu can't help it. He laughs, a low chuckle.
"A loyal Ghost? That's a funny joke. I can see that you're trying to climb the ranks, but I really doubt killing one cop is going to get the Valley Master to swoon and appoint you his right hand man. He's not so naive as that."
Color blooms high on the man's cheeks at being read and called out so easily, and rage flashes in his eyes. The bite of the blade gets a little too sharp.
Zhou Zishu tilts his wrist and pulls the trigger on the needles. Like someone flipped a light switch, the light and life go out of the Ghost's eyes...just a moment before Zhou Zishu’s needles embed themselves firmly in his throat.
The corpse sways and falls to the side, a limp, crumpled heap. There's a small, ornate knife lodged in the back of his skull.
The sound of the rain is different now, though the cause is apparent.
Wen Kexing stands smiling innocently in front of him, raindrops hitting his black umbrella and sparing him a drenching.
He's dressed impeccably in a very well fitted dark red suit, hair hanging perfect as always. In the front pocket of his suit there's a lovely little arrangement of dried flowers, purple and bell shaped.
Zhou Zishu suppresses a smirk. Deadly nightshade.
He wonders how many times Wen Kexing has casually crushed one of those stems in his fingers and sprinkled it in a business partners drink when he hasn't gotten his way.
There's another Ghost standing next to and behind him. He's very nervous and very much not under Wen Kexing’s umbrella.
"A-Xu," Wen Kexing's voice booms, unhushed and unabashed despite the corpse by the wayside. "Do forgive me. I should have anticipated someone would do something...stupid."
Zhou Zishu scoffs dismissively. "Valley Master Wen."
Wen Kexing beams, even as the Ghost behind him seems to become even more nervous.
"Zhou Zishu," Wen Kexing replies, grin wolfish. "A silent blade in many an unsuspecting throat, now turned law enforcement of all things."
Wen Kexing takes leisurely steps forward, crowding him against the wall and sheltering him with his umbrella.
"Now that all the cards are officially on the table," he croons, looking at Zhou Zishu like he's a sumptuous meal, "Are you going to take me in, Officer Zhou?"
Shit. See, this is why it's always been safer to keep a counter between them. Wen Kexing's proximity is maddening.
He tears his eyes away from Lao Wen’s perfect lips to meet his gaze.
"And shut down the only affordable restaurant around that serves real chicken?" he murmurs. "Not likely."
Wen Kexing’s laughter rings out loud and bright, eyes dancing.
"Get my car," he calls to the nervous Ghost.
The man looks almost aghast, as if questioning Wen Kexing’s sanity. Surely it can't be the first time.
"B-but Guzhu-"
Wen Kexing's smile drops and eyes go wide and empty in an instant, turning his head slowly to look over his shoulder.
The Ghost pales so drastically he looks grey.
"Get. My. Car."
"Y-yes, Guzhu!"
Zhou Zishu is sure he makes a land speed record running to do as he's bid, but he's not watching. He's too busy looking at Wen Kexing. Wen Kexing, who is looking at him with immeasurable hunger.
There's a few moments of tense, loaded silence and then...the tension snaps. Wen Kexing surges forward, slams him back into the wall and takes his mouth with all the finesse of a starving beast. Zhou Zishu is no better, fisting his hands in the back of that suit and doing his best to devour Wen Kexing whole.
It's worse than he could ever have imagined, the burning heat and ravenous desire between them. He didn't know he could be so hungry.
The umbrella has fallen to the wayside, the hand that had been holding it too busy grabbing a greedy handful of Zhou Zishu's thigh and hiking it up over Wen Kexing’s hip to be bothered with it.
The cold of the rain does nothing to stem the burn of desire.
"G-Guzhu? Guzhu, the...the car is ready…!
Wen Kexing makes a sound into Zhou Zishu’s mouth that's akin to a snarl, as if it's a physical burden to tear himself away from the kiss as he does.
Zhou Zishu pants for breath, watching Lao Wen steel his jaw and collect himself. Reign his lust in.
Beast.
Finally, he opens his eyes and rasps, "Good. Come, A-Xu. We'll get you dried - ah."
Zhou Zishu follows his gaze downwards, to where the remains of that nightshade boutonniere are crushed and sticking to either of their chests.
Wen Kexing laughs lowly and moves to brush it away. "Careful, A-Xu. We wouldn't want you to-"
Zhou Zishu catches his wrist to stop it, dragging his own thumb through the wet, crumbled remains of flowers and stems.
He makes pointed eye contact as he puts it in his mouth and sucks the lethal powder from his own skin.
Wen Kexing’s smile drops and his pupils dilate. His breath shudders into his chest, wracked with a new wave of desire.
Zhou Zishu has no doubt Wen Kexing has cultivated a tolerance to belladonna himself, and is not surprised when his chin is taken in a firm grip and Lao Wen’s tongue pushes into his mouth to share the poison with him.
God, he's so hard it hurts.
Wen Kexing pulls away slowly, like he's savoring the dangerous taste of Zhou Zishu’s tongue for as long as possible.
"As I was saying," he murmurs, voice low with desire, "let's get you in the car and try to dry you off, hmm?"
As if Wen Kexing is any drier than him right now. Being drenched doesn't take away from his grace or beauty, though, as he bends to pick up his umbrella and link arms with Zhou Zishu, leading him along like nothing happened at all.
The Ghost is looking alarmed in a different way now. Before, he was nervous because Zhou Zishu was law enforcement. Now he's scared because it's clear that Zhou Zishu is the same brand of crazy as the Ghost Valley Guzhu himself.
The car is a shiny sleek black model, one of those that's so expensive a passerby is afraid to breath on it.
The lights underneath cast a vivid aquamarine glow on the wet pavement below.
The Ghost opens the back door for them, nervously prompting, "Guzhu, uh-"
He hesitates while looking at Zhou Zishu, and Wen Kexing purrs, "I think Guzhu-furen has a nice ring to it."
Zhou Zishu snorts and elbows him in the stomach - much to the Ghost's horror - and climbs inside first, though Wen Kexing does manage to land a laughing bite on the shell of his ear as he ducks into the car.
He hopes the shudder of arousal it causes can be passed off as a chill.
Unsurprisingly, the inside of the car is stocked as if it were a limousine. Wen Kexing retrieves a towel for him to dry his hair and blot at his clothes, though nothing short of changing entirely will dry him out any time soon.
Wen Kexing is smiling at him where he uses his own towel to dry off, eyes appreciative and heated.
Until the Ghost in the driver's seat nervously asks for a destination, and Lao Wen rolls his eyes and coldly tells him not to ask stupid questions.
Apparently that's answer enough to get the car moving.
The smile blooms right back on Wen Kexing’s face as if it had never withered at all, and he tosses his own towel aside to pluck Zhou Zishu’s out of his hands and ruffle it over Zishu’s hair, drag it along his neck.
"A-Xu," he croons, once again acting as if the only thing he has the will to pay attention to is Zhou Zishu. "Don't you know it's dangerous for pretty things like you to go walking alone at night? What were you doing in that alley, all secluded and vulnerable?"
Zhou Zishu snorts, not protesting the patting of the towel. "Baiting my tail."
Wen Kexing’s grin grows. Shows teeth. Becomes feral. "Mnnnn, I see."
He drags the towel down the curve of Zhou Zishu’s cheekbone, other hand on his chin and thumb slowly running along his lower lip.
His voice is low when he asks, "And what did you intend to do with him, when you caught him?"
Zishu doesn't flinch, simply stares into those hungry eyes and replies, "The way it was going? Kill him."
He has just a moment to brace himself, seeing the explosion of lust in those dark eyes. Just a moment, and then Wen Kexing crashes into him like a tsunami, taking his mouth with little grace and much hunger.
He knocks Zhou Zishu clear over, pins him on his back across the seat and devours him, plasters their wet bodies together and tangles their tongues, bites his lips.
It's fantastic. The hottest he's ever felt, the most genuinely he's ever desired another person. There's something nuclear between he and this lunatic that he simply cannot resist.
Their hips shift together. Zhou Zishu moans, pushes up into the friction. Winds his hands into Wen Kexing’s wet hair.
They lay like that, writhing against each other, panting and moaning soft sounds into each other's mouths for what seems an eternity and the blink of an eye all at once.
He can't parse the passage of time when it's all just want.
He has a passing feeling of pity for the driver, who he's sure wishes he was driving a long outdated car with wheels instead of hovertech. At least that way there would be road noise to mask the sound of heavy breathing and wet kisses.
Wen Kexing draws his hips back and grinds them forward, slow and intentional.
Zhou Zishu lets his head fall back with a breathy moan, eyelids fluttering with the rush of pleasure.
Wen Kexing bites his throat immediately.
"Feels good, A-Xu?"
He laughs breathlessly, rolling his head and sighing a shuddering breath at the next grind of hips. Wen Kexing is so hard against him. Just as hard as he is.
"Yeah. Mmm, yeah, it's good…"
Lao Wen catches his mouth again, and just like that he's lost back in the haze of heat.
Until, of course, Lao Wen’s eager hands start trying to undo his pants and he grabs both the offending wrists, breathing an emphatic no.
"You are not fucking me in the backseat of a car, Lao Wen."
He's pretty sure he hears the driver sigh in relief.
Wen Kexing whines a low, pathetic sound, but doesn't protest. He keeps his hands off the button of Zhou Zishu’s pants and satisfies himself with grinding and kissing him breathless.
It's a wonder he doesn't come in his pants, with how dedicated Wen Kexing is to rubbing them together in the best ways possible.
He doesn't even notice the car coming to a halt, nevermind that they reach their destination. The Ghost in the driver's seat has to nervously call for his Guzhu, tripping over saying they've arrived.
For a few moments there's just heavy breathing, the both of them nearly quivering with the effort it takes to pull away from each other. They cool down - as close as they can get to it - so close one twitch could press their lips back together, and then finally peel apart.
"Fuck," Zishu breathes, taking a moment before he manages to lever himself off his back.
He aches with desire.
Wen Kexing is out of the car before he is, which is why it's only when Lao Wen is unlocking the front door and beckoning him inside that he scoffs in disbelief and says, "You brought me to your restaurant?"
Wen Kexing laughs as he passes by and enters anyway. "Don't be silly, A-Xu. I brought you to my building. There's a lovely penthouse suite and, more importantly, a king sized bed waiting on the top floor."
Zishu snorts. Of course. Of course he owns the whole building.
"Perks of organized crime, huh?" he muses, walking behind the counter. The elevators must be in the back, probably through the kitchen.
"You should know, shouldn't you?" Wen Kexing responds slyly, giving him a smile that's as impish as it is lustful as he starts to pass by and lead the way.
Zhou Zishu doesn't let him.
Lao Wen must really trust him, he remarks to himself, because there's no reason it should be so easy to take him off guard, to swing him around and slam him bent over chest down on his own counter, to pull the cuffs from inside his jacket and close them around pale wrists.
And yet it is. It is so, so easy, and Wen Kexing seems genuinely shocked for a moment.
Then, when Zhou Zishu presses his erection firmly to the curve of his ass, realization dawns on his beautiful face and he laughs, color high in his cheeks.
"A-Xu! Taking advantage of your prisoners? For shame!"
"Don't lecture me about shame, you pestilence," he murmurs, reaching around to push his hand down the front of Wen Kexing’s pants and stroke him.
It's like scruffing a kitten.
Lao Wen goes limp and pliant immediately, gives a little open mouthed moan and closes his eyes to enjoy it.
Certainly makes it easy enough to rummage around in the pockets of his suit with the other hand, though he is perhaps a little distracted staring at that slack face of pleasure.
There. He pulls a packet of lube from one of Wen Kexing’s inside jacket pockets.
"Freak."
"Mnnnn," Wen Kexing responds, smiling dopily and rocking his hips into Zishu’s fist.
It's a little intoxicating, having the leader of the most ruthless organized crime syndicate limp and rocking into his hand. Intoxicating enough that he stands there and watches the pleasure on Wen Kexing’s face for a while, lets him push his cock back and forth through the curl of Zhou Zishu’s fingers and listens to his little shaky sighs and tiny sounds.
Eventually he shakes himself and takes his hand away, relishing in the little whine of protest Lao Wen makes. It's hot. Makes him want to tease more just to hear it again.
Instead, he shucks expensive suit pants and underwear down past Wen Kexing’s ass and opens the packet of lube, aching with anticipation.
Wen Kexing laughs a quiet, breathy little laugh. When Zhou Zishu looks up at his face, he's peering over his shoulder with heavy lidded, pleased eyes and an anticipatory smirk.
"A-Xu," he breathes. "I don't often let men penetrate me, you know."
Zhou Zishu hums a dismissive sound, slicking his fingers. "You don't seem to be in a position to do much about it, Valley Master Wen."
Wen Kexing laughs again, smile wider this time before he hums a hedonistic sound and pushes his hips back into Zhou Zishu’s clothed groin. "Indeed you have me at a disadvantage, Officer Zhou. But I'm tougher than you think, you know. 'Interrogate' me as you li-"
He cuts off with a gasp and a jerk as Zhou Zishu sinks a finger into him, shuddering a little in a way Zhou Zishu finds most pleasing to the eye.
The grin turns to a pout. "A-Xu! You could warm it first!"
"You're warm inside. You'll do a good enough job yourself."
Wen Kexing huffs petulantly, yet still submits to the penetration and closes his eyes, seeming to relish in the beginnings of sensation. New friction.
Zhou Zishu isn't stupid. He knows what Wen Kexing meant by that seemingly off hand comment about not letting men penetrate him. It's not a matter of preference, not entirely. It's a matter of trust.
He's telling Zhou Zishu he trusts him, because otherwise he wouldn't allow him to have him in this position of vulnerability. He and Zhou Zishu are cut from the same cloth - Zishu understands.
It feels good, the idea that someone feels safe with him.
He slides a second finger in. The lube has warmed a little simply from the contact with his skin, but Wen Kexing still whines and makes a fuss. Zhou Zishu pinches the skin where thigh meets ass and smirks at the yelp he gets.
It takes a little experimenting to get the hang of what he's doing, he'll admit. He's only been intimate with men a few times, but he certainly knows what he's looking for.
Wen Kexing knows what he's looking for too, panting and making tiny noises of pleasure at the back and forth of Zishu’s fingers and murmuring, "Mnn, just a little more to - ah!"
Lao Wen’s hips buck, shudder.
"Y-yeah, there. Good. Mnnnn, A-Xu, just like that…"
It's so satisfying, how the curl and drag of his fingers sends shudders up Wen Kexing’s spine, hitches his breath and pulls helpless little sounds of pleasure from his throat. Just as enchanting as he'd worried it would be, all that time he'd been keeping the careful distance of shopkeeper and customer between them.
Now he's not sure he'll be able to give the heat and animal attraction up.
"A-Xu...A-Xu, don't tease me anymore, please. Have mercy on this poor captive ghost…"
"Mercy?" Zhou Zishu asks with a snort. "Do you want mercy or sex? You can't have both."
Wen Kexing tightens involuntarily around his fingers, laughing breathily. "If you're going to threaten me like that, A-Xu, I dearly hope you'll live up to it."
Fine, he thinks. If Lao Wen is so impatient, he'll give both of them what they want. His cock aches painfully where it's constrained by his pants, and he can't say he's not eager to feel the tight heat of Lao Wen’s body around it.
Zishu pulls his fingers free and undoes his pants, nearly moaning at the release of pressure.
He catches Wen Kexing licking his lips at the sound of the zipper, sees him wiggle with anticipation.
His eagerness is another jolt of arousal to Zhou Zishu’s groin.
"Are you sure," he asks as he slicks himself with a hiss of pleasure and lines their hips up, "that you don't do this often? You seem awfully eager for it."
"A-Xu! It's because I don't do it like this often that I'm - ah-hah! Mnng…!"
Zhou Zishu presses in, and Wen Kexing’s words freeze in his throat as he endures the penetration, mouth wide open and brow furrowed.
It's a tight fit.
Tight enough to roll Zishu’s eyes back for a moment, the heat and pressure and pleasure overcoming him.
Fuck. Oh, wow.
Then, as he slides slowly deeper he asks a breathless, "Okay?"
Wen Kexing sucks in the first breath he's taken since he was penetrated, shuddering and uneven. "Y-yes…! Yes, I'm good…! Don't -hn-ah- don't stop…"
It has to hurt at least a little, as tight as Wen Kexing feels around him. He seems to like it, though, so Zishu casts aside his concern.
Instead he rucks up Lao Wen’s suit jacket and shirt and plants his hand in the small of his back - right on that ghostly tattoo - and leans his weight down and forward to sink all the way in.
Wen Kexing cries a high pitched little cry of surprise, thighs trembling as he slides home. Then, as Zhou Zishu's weight presses him into the counter…
"Ah!" It's a sound of pain this time, laced with arousal. "Ah, ah, A-Xu I'm - I'm caught, please…!"
Caught?
Zishu leans to the side to peer around, and sure enough poor Lao Wen’s cock is trapped painfully between his belly and the edge of the counter.
He considers it for a moment, before he leans his weight harder into Wen Kexing’s hips.
A myriad of things happen. Wen Kexing sucks in a sharp, loud gasp, lets it out in a pained 'ah-hah!". His wrists tug against the cuffs like his hands want to move to free himself, he tries to go up on his tiptoes.
Zhou Zishu is more interested in the bead of pre come that leaks from the tip of his cock and onto the counter and how he's pretty sure he sees Lao Wen’s balls tighten.
"Hmph."
Curiosity satisfied and body screaming at him to fuck already, he lets up, reaches around to tug Wen Kexing’s poor cock free and let it hang heavy between his legs.
Lao Wen sighs a shaky breath, eyelids fluttering like the relief is it's own very sexual pleasure.
"Oh, fuck...mmph. I could swear torturing your prisoners is against the law, A-Xu," he teases breathlessly.
The pestilence is just fine, then.
"So is fucking them," he retorts, before rolling his hips in a slow, grinding thrust that has him groaning lowly.
God, that's good. Even better for the little hitch of pleasure he hears in Wen Kexing's breath, each reaction from him like another touch to Zhou Zishu’s cock.
Evidently, Wen Kexing reacts just as much like a scruffed kitten to being fucked as he does to being stroked off. He melts, moaning low and letting his eyes drift closed.
It's no wonder he doesn't let men fuck him often if he responds like this. It would be all too easy to stab him in the back while he's limp and mewling.
This, too, Zhou Zishu has to do some experimenting with. The rhythm of his hips, the consistency of his stroke, those are things he's confident in. Knowing how to hit a man in just the right spots on the other hand is less familiar.
Wen Kexing pants, shivers, lets him tug at his hips and push down on the small of his back, shift his angles.
Then, with one little shift of the hips, Lao Wen’s eyes are flying open with a sharp gasp, hands flexing where they're cuffed like they're looking for something to hold on to.
His voice stutters when he exhales, "Ohhhhhh, yes!"
Zishu grins, high on pleasure and feeling triumphant. "Good?"
"Nn-hmm, yes! Yes, keep going just like that…!"
Zhou Zishu doesn't need to be encouraged to keep driving into that tight heat. It's delicious, incredible. It's enough to make him lose his head a little, breath growing ragged quickly and thrusts growing rough.
Wen Kexing doesn't seem to mind. He's surprisingly vocal, Zishu thinks, though he's not opposed to it. Those cries and overwhelmed little groans and whimpers are doing wonders for him.
There's a tug on his jacket. When he looks down, Wen Kexing’s desperate hands have finally found something to grip for dear life, one hand holding his jacket in a white knuckled grip even as he gasps breathlessly for more.
"Yes, yes, yes, A-Xu! A-Xu, please! Ohhh, fuck!"
He's a vision, this ruthless creature pinned below him. His face is flushed and mouth open in ecstasy, face slack with pleasure. His hair spills across the counter in a pool of ink, some of it even falling over the opposite edge.
Zishu can't help but reach forward and grab a handful of it near the scalp, pulling Wen Kexings head back and relishing in the guttural, feral sound Lao Wen makes.
Zishu leans forward, peers around to see Lao Wen’s profile.
"Good?"
"Uh-huh!" Kexing gasps out, eyelids fluttering and eyes rolling back. They're suspiciously wet. "G-gonna come! Keep going, so good!"
Lao Wen will have bruises across the crests of his hips, he thinks. Each firm thrust is knocking them none too gently against the edge of the counter, but there's no complaint from him.
Just gasping cries and pleas for more, the pitch of his voice rising until-
"Ah-hah! Fffffuck!"
Wen Kexings eyes go wide, the wetness spills over as his body seizes and trembles with his orgasm. Zhou Zishu groans at the squeeze and lets go of his hair, watching as Wen Kexing presses his forehead to the counter and hiccups his way through the waves of pleasure.
Zhou Zishu follows him over the edge quickly, biting his lip against the groan of ecstasy that rises from his throat and gripping Wen Kexing's hips hard enough to bruise.
In the haze of bliss and gasping pants that ensues, Lao Wen’s limp fingers relinquish his jacket and he fights not to slump against Wen Kexing's back.
He has to wait to get a little strength back in his legs before he pulls gently free from Wen Kexing’s body. It seems to be what Lao Wen needs to come alive again, sighing shakily and laughing a little.
"A-Xu," he groans. "You do not disappoint."
Zhou Zishu laughs as well, undoing the handcuffs that bind Wen Kexing.
Lao Wen brings his hands around front and rubs the wrists a little before he pushes himself lazily upright and rolls his head around like he's relishing in the afterglow.
"I don't suppose," Lao Wen purrs, even as he pulls his pants up and fastens them lazily. "that I could coax an encore performance out of you? In my bed this time?"
Zishu snorts, looking tiredly back at the salacious expression aimed at him. Can this monster not be satiated?
"Absolutely not. But if the bed is comfortable enough, you can convince me to let you do the work."
----
"Hey, ge?"
"Hmm?"
"Has this counter always wobbled like this?"