The Truth That Lies (WangXian Modern AU)

25

It's your touch that unfolds me, that brings an unwavering light,
It's your warmth that holds me, that arranges my wavering life.

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Wanring: Mature Content

Wei Ying

The sound of the front door comes when I climb down the stairs after changing.

He's there, holding his luggage with one hand, closing the door with the other like he's not almost giving me an aneurysm. Right, he had to wear that long coat today. When he turns around, he becomes aware of my presence and pauses with burning eye contact. I think I'll die if I don't get into his arms right now.

So I do. It's all sandalwood scent and strong shoulder blades and warm arms and overflowing, radiating, electrified love; it's all mine, it's all his. It's all ours, it shouldn't be anything but ours. For a moment, just for a moment, all I want is to forget everything that happened the past three weeks and to let it sink that he's here, right in my arms and that he's going to stay there. This is the man who worked seven years to be with me. This is the man who walked through his hell and never looked back. This is the man whose I'd become life's purpose. And he's mine.

"I missed you," his deep voice says, and I don't even have to think before I say me too, because I felt it in every cell of my being.

I pull back enough to kiss his lips, pull back again with a promise of more. "I'll shower first," he says, dark and low.

My reply of a hum comes out shaky.

Back in our bedroom, I hear the shower turn on, that is it. I slip in.

Something flinches in me at the sight of him in the shower, with a questioning look, wearing nothing but perfectly fitting impeccable white skin over strong muscles and veins. I wriggle out of my clothes and toss them over where Lan Zhan had folded his ones. And step under cold running water and the heat of his body, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his back at the dip of his spine.

His gaze, oh god it was everything. As if that itself was multifaceted; like it had a touch of hunger, deep affection, and a pang of longing, and a question of what I'm up to all at once. I reach up and touch the bone of his cheek, and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, bringing my hand to his abdomen, finally getting to press my fingertips over those creases I saw on that photo yesterday. Right, yesterday. We're back from a break.

"Is it okay that we're doing this the first thing?" I ask, squeezing my eyes because of the burn of the water.

"Has that mattered before?"

"No," I chuckle, gasping at his lips on my neck. "Obviously."

He runs his thumb over my jawline, and he pulls me into a kiss. He finds my teeth; then my tongue; I give in letting myself be kissed, trapped between the slide of the mouths and the squeezing grip on my nape and my hip. I press down his lower lip between my teeth, and things go fast after that.

Another messy kiss. A bite on my chin. Another on my neck. A never-ending one on my collarbone which will probably leave a mark. It was happening all at once that I couldn't say who's kissing whom. Our hands were following paths familiar to them of our pressed craving bodies, setting fire to all the places they grazed.

I feel a squeeze of his wide palm on the curve of my ass and I gasp pushing him hard to the wall, making him let out a satisfying grunt-like yelp. I smirk, lick off the water up his throat, trail the symmetry of his chest down to his hardened self. His low voice came next to my ear, but it trembled in my spine.