How To Polish A Pearl

Chapter 41 - Returning

A/N: I sort of fainted two months back and hurt my back. Turns out it was a bit worse than they initially thought, so yesterday I had a nerve root injection into the spine to calm it down. If that doesn't work I will need surgery. 

This means I am taking a few days off work and basically all I will do is sleep and eat. If I feel up for it I will write, but currently, I only have this and one more chapter for you girls. Then again, they are two really good chapters.

Don't worry though. The story has been plotted and there are plenty of chapters to come.

Stay safe all of you. Oh, also, this chapter contains a bit of explicit, mature content. Please enjoy!

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When the silver light from the pale crescent moon has been swallowed by towering storm clouds and it starts to drizzle, Zhou Xu returns to the warmth inside. The pavilion is silent and empty. Wen Ke Xing has left, leaving all the food untouched but taking the other bottle of wine with him. He ignores the tug in his heart and instead focus all his remaining energy from this long day on the bags that are still waiting for him by the broken door.

He picks up two of the bags and a burning candle and moves towards one of the rooms further back in the pavilion, one of the many smaller rooms that doesn't have any daylight openings. Opening the bags, he takes out the inflorescences, removes the damp cloth and places them on a table. Walking back and forth a few times, with the candle in hand, he soon has all the bags emptied and a table stacked with the purple flowers. The scent in the room is sweet and a little bit citrusy.

Taking a few at a time, he binds them together at the lower end of the stalk, making them into rough bouquets. He moves swiftly and with skilled hands, this is something he has done many times before. In under twenty minutes, the bouquets are all bundled and hanging upside down at the far back of the room, starting their week long journey towards drying out.

With his arms full of the empty bags, he walks back to the front room, dumping them all in a pile by the door, watching the wind ruffle the edges. They are tomorrows problem.

Feeling the sleepiness work like gravity, pulling on his eyelids, he longs for the silent promise of comfort from his bed. He had come to fully appreciate it now that the restraints were gone and only that amazing mattress was left along with the beddings.

As he is about to turn, the door opens, noticeably with some effort to not have it fall completely off the tracks, and Wen Ke Xing appears before him. Drenched from the drizzle that has apparently turned into a downpour whilst he was busy in the back room. They stare at each other in silence, Wen Ke Xing blinking away the endless raindrops that keeps irritating his eyes.

"I thought you went back to Jianchan?" Zhou Xu's voice is steady, trying to keep his quickening heartbeat hidden behind slowed breathing, but he can't hide his surprise that Wen Ke Xing has come back. The man that had not visited him late at night, or not visited at all since that time in the pool. Not that he was keeping track.

Wen Ke Xing's eyes are fixated on Zhou Xu's mouth, the question is lingering on the lips which are slightly parted, the defined curves extremely sexy and seductive, but not smiling. A bit confused by his own actions, he responds, "I did." Like frozen in place, the raindrops glistens against his pale skin. The only thing moving is his lips, his breaths coming out in white steamy puffs that quickly dissolves in the chilly night.

"Why are you back?" The words a little bit dragged out as the various scenarios are played out in his mind as he tries to pacify the thump, thump, thump, in his chest.

"You." That one word opens a floodgate of images, rushing through his mind. The smile from the dream whites out all other flashes and imprints on his iris. I need to see that smile again.

"Me?"

"You."

Without another sound, Wen Ke Xing moves surprisingly easy through the broken door, leaving it skewed and open. The wind howling outside blowing gushes of rain a few meters in on the floor, the bottom of Zhou Xu's robe swaying in the wind. The water drips from Wen Ke Xing's soaked clothes and is already pooling on the floor along with the torrential rain.

Trying not to get Zhou Xu's clothes wet and cold, he places his cold hands on those warm and smooth cheeks. Though he doesn't succeed as his wide sleeves glues themselves against Zhou Xu's chest and the thin inner robe. His eyes staring at those walnut-colored ones, already asking for forgiveness for the cold touch as he covers those lips. Those warm and wonderful lips. Those lips that makes him think of nothing else. Those lips that makes everything else fade into grayscale. Those lips that curve into that smile.

This time he doesn't force them. He doesn't possess them. He doesn't bully them. He doesn't break them. His touch, though cold, is soft and gentle, like they are asking a question. His tongue licks from the bottom lip upwards, slowly and teasingly, like it is asking for permission.

When he is rewarded by the parting of the lips, and Zhou Xu's tongue gradually caresses his as they search for each other, his body tingles from the top of his drenched head to the tip of his cold toes. The taste is oh so sweet and the wine has made it a little bit spicy, the wet flavor stirring within, making his heart thump a little bit irregular.

Like the addict that he has become he wants more, his entire being screaming for more. The raw desire and the tender longing in a roaring battle for control. The Guzhu fighting a losing battle against the Husband. He is scared that the man between his hands will disappear, like in the dream, if any force against him is too much.

When he feels those warm hands move to cover his cold ones, the qi flowing through the palms and into his core, his mind starts to hum again. The battle instantly stops and the only thing spreading through his core is warmth. His soul breathing in this new feeling of comfort. This somehow familiar feeling of comfort.

His arms aches, aches to touch, aches to caress, aches to embrace and aches to hold. Yet they remain, though a bit forced turning a little bit stiff, under the palms of his man.

Like he can sense it, Zhou Xu links their hands and release them at Wen Ke Xing's sides. Without a word, he removes the wet and heavy robes, one after the other. Dropping them on the floor where they stand, leaving only the somewhat still dry pants clinging to that slender waist. And just like before, he moves towards the chair, this time pushing the other man in front of him. There is no kissing, there is no speaking, only the silent movement of their breathing and the soft, almost sliding steps over the wet floor.

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A/N: What are you doing Ah-Xu? 

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