“How does any man back up his words, Lao Wen?” Zhou Zishu replies, still holding that thrumming pulse, feeling it quicken as he leans even closer. “By following through, of course.”
“Careful, A-Xu,” Wen Kexing breathes out, mirroring Zhou Zishu’s earlier words, “or I might believe you really want me to.”
For such a flirt, Wen Kexing sure does fumble opportunity. Zhou Zishu loosens his death-grip on Wen Kexing’s chin, and cups his cheek instead. Soft, and perhaps a little cruel, he says, “Lao Wen, I hadn’t pegged you for a coward.”
I adore this Wen Kexing, helpless with wanting Zhou Zishu, and this Zhao Zishu, finally giving in to what they both want.