tang fan/sui zhou - confession
The air was still. It was thick, heavy with heat and humidity as Summer reaches it’s peak. Tang Fan is miserable as he fans himself, legs spread out in front of him as he lays on his back on the floor in the kitchen. He moans pitifully as Sui Zhou enters and sees him, quirks an eyebrow, and ignores the distress that must be obvious.
Sui Zhou, cruel man that he is, disappears from view and Tang Fan considers calling after him. His throat is dry though and his stomach rumbles louder than any words. He hears a low laugh, smiles, lets the pleasant nature of that warmth fill him instead. There is a shuffling, the sound of water being poured, and Sui Zhou comes back into his line of sight. He watches with a smile as Sui Zhou joins him on the floor, sitting at first to hand him a bowl of blessedly cold water. Tang Fan drinks greedily, a moan in his throat, before pausing and handing the bowl over. He watches as Sui Zhou takes it, shivers at the touch of their fingers, and lets his gaze fixate on the movement of Sui Zhou’s throat as he swallows.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, laying down again. The ceiling isn’t as nice to look at as his companion, but he is less likely to blush if he concentrates on it and the various ingredients hanging from it. Sui Zhou lays down next to him and Tang Fan decides - now is the time. He stares up at the ceiling and fans himself slowly. “I’m in love with you, you know. I... think I have been for a while.”
Beside him there is no movement. There is no change in Sui Zhou’s breathing, no shift of fabric or clatter of pottery. Tang Fan is sure he has read the signs right. He hasn’t mistaken the jealousy when he spends more time with others, the care Sui Zhou puts into the food he serves, the quiet evenings when Dong’er has gone to bed and the night wraps around them like a blanket. He is sure Guangchuan cares for him too, but what if he has been wrong this whole time-
“That makes two of us,” comes the almost breathless reply. When he turns to look, Guangchuan is gazing at him with dark and affectionate eyes. Their hands find each other without sight to guide them. Tang Fan feels Sui Zhou’s calloused fingers squeeze his own, returns the gesture, and lets the smile form on his lips. They lay on the floor together, kisses restricted to knuckles and wrists, and Tang Fan decides he likes the summer again. There are some kinds of heat that are, after all, quite enjoyable.
