[ lu bixing is faced with a dilemma, and that dilemma is this. he wants to kiss jingheng, the minute he gets into close kissing distance, but he also desperately wants to listen to him talk. it is a problem. he hopes that he looks cute sprawled out on this bed? he hopes he looks cute.
apparently, he does. lu bixing still has a hand in the back of his hair, curled through the silky strands, and his other arm reaches up to link around his shoulder. he loves how warm jingheng is, for someone who supposedly looks so cold; it's a reminder of the scorching warmth he gave off the first time they kissed, the way it felt like colorblindness melting away to see the world for all of its hues. bixing turns his head, kisses the side of lin jingheng's because it's next to him, and looks up at the ceiling and just smiles. he smiles so big his cheeks hurt. ]
Yeah. [ yeah. that's all he can say - there were no stars to stare at, for him. just the crushing misery of knowing he'd never have this again, only to have it returned. hell, of all places, has done bixing some good things.
he kisses the side of his head again, another, another, arches up a little to feel that heartbeat. ]
Was it everything you expected? [ soft, almost a little jokingly, lamely - even if he wants to know the answer. they're in hell, not actually home, but it doesn't matter. will it be everything you expect, when we're home? ]
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apparently, he does. lu bixing still has a hand in the back of his hair, curled through the silky strands, and his other arm reaches up to link around his shoulder. he loves how warm jingheng is, for someone who supposedly looks so cold; it's a reminder of the scorching warmth he gave off the first time they kissed, the way it felt like colorblindness melting away to see the world for all of its hues. bixing turns his head, kisses the side of lin jingheng's because it's next to him, and looks up at the ceiling and just smiles. he smiles so big his cheeks hurt. ]
Yeah. [ yeah. that's all he can say - there were no stars to stare at, for him. just the crushing misery of knowing he'd never have this again, only to have it returned. hell, of all places, has done bixing some good things.
he kisses the side of his head again, another, another, arches up a little to feel that heartbeat. ]
Was it everything you expected? [ soft, almost a little jokingly, lamely - even if he wants to know the answer. they're in hell, not actually home, but it doesn't matter. will it be everything you expect, when we're home? ]