( The second kiss is just as sweet, the earnest press of mouths against each other. Wen Kexing makes it deeper, more firm, caring very little for the taste of his breath or the smell of a sickbed, the facts of them barely flickering across his consciousness. He's all caught up in the joy of it instead, the fact that he is kissed back, that there is a hand on his own face, that it means something. The fact that he -. )

I love you.

( Ah, there it is. It pulls it's way from him with it's own bloodied hands, the shape of his devotion. The words themselves feel clumsy, fumbled against Zhou Zishu's mouth, and so he squeezes his eyes shut but does not pull further back from the man beside him, inhaling once, quick and shuddering. )

I -. ( Stumbling, ridiculous. ) I would do whatever you asked of me, Ah-Xu. I'd pull my heart from behind my ribs and give it to you, if that's what you wanted. I love you, and I didn't think I knew how to do that. If anyone ever hurt you I'd tear their skin from their bones with my teeth, do you -. I want -.

( A pause, eyelids flickering open again, a sigh. )

I love you.