Walking Through Open Doors

Chapter 9 - Laundry Day

Preparing coffees for guests—even though he's technically one himself—is very domestic and Wen Ke Xing can't help but feel a bit smug about it as he puts a double espresso in front of Han Ying. He feels proud that he didn't spit in it first or accidentally spilled some on the stupid agent. He can be petty, but he's not that petty. Though, he was petty enough to prepare Jing Bei Yuan's and Wu Xi's coffees first, making the irritating city slicker wait for as long as he could. And the sour look on Han Ying's face combined with the amused looks he's getting from the two husbands is worth the effort.

"I can see that you've already made yourself at home," Jing Bei Yuan says with a silky smooth voice and Han Ying clenches his jaw.

"I'm not sure how they survived without me," he responds, winks, and walks back to the coffee machine. He hears someone choke on their perfectly made coffee. He hopes that it's Han Ying.

"Wen Shu is so great! He's even teaching me how to cook!" Zhou Cheng Ling says and looks back at him with literal stars in his eyes. It makes Wen Ke Xing's heart clench in a way that it hasn't done in years—ever since Gu Xiang had grown up, moved away to university, found a fiancé and subsequently replaced him as her emergency contact. If his libido suddenly wanting to grow oats coincides with that happening, well, it's not something that he has analyzed in between his excessive dating.

Jing Bei Yuan smiles behind his coffee and says, "A'Ling, don't say that out loud when ShuShu can hear you, or he might take it personally."

Zhou Cheng Ling ducks his head behind his juice and looks guilty, but in true teenage spirit his excitement bubbles over and he prattles on about all the dishes that he's cooked so far. Wen Ke Xing listens with something like warmth filling the empty pockets in his chest, whilst he makes the final two coffees. He puts one by the sole empty seat left at the table and the other in front of himself.

Perfectly timed, the door opens and Zhou Zi Shu walks in and somehow time and space alters. The change is like a physical ripple under his skin, as if his blood moves like a lake surface disturbed by a smooth, flat stone skipping over the top.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Jing Bei Yuan says and it is the worst lie Wen Ke Xing has heard in his entire life. Zhou Zi Shu looks like a sunrise, all warm and soft and fluffy in pastel colors. Wen Ke Xing wants to twist his fingers into that newly washed hair and nibble all over that exposed skin. He also wants to push Zhou Zi Shu up against the wall and demand to know why he has suddenly shaved and why he is wearing clothes that are on the verge of indecent after having shuffled around in those ragged old oversize hoodies and baggy shorts for days.

"Baaa! You shaved!" Zhou Cheng Ling exclaims, glances towards Wen Ke Xing and giggles into his glass. It's like a soft buzz at the outer edges of the exsessive blood roaring in his ears.

Zhou Zi Shu's gaze flicks to his before those dark eyes sweeps over the five of them sitting by the table. "I think it's time to install those gates that I've been talking about ever since I moved back, because I keep picking up strays," he says with a tone that doesn't quite qualify as casual, plonks down in the empty chair next to Wen Ke Xing and grabs his coffee. "It's either that or open up a b&b." He takes a sip of the mocha latte—that Wen Ke Xing has rebelliously elevated by with dark chocolate and a sprinkle of cinnamon—and the corners of his mouth turn up. His eyes flickers back towards Wen Ke Xing's in both a surprised question and a content thanks. There is also something else swirling inside those eyes and Wen Ke Xing desperately wants everyone else to leave so he can figure out how sturdy this kitchen table is.

"What's the occasion?" Han Ying asks, like the idiot that he is.

"It was itching," Zhou Zi Shu deadpans and takes another sip. "And it's laundry day." Which is just the lamest excuse that Wen Ke Xing has heard. It's actually flattering and he smiles into his own coffee.