( Technically, Wen Kexing is here on business, if you'd call plotting the political demise of a nemesis business. Partial business, only because he so desperately wants Zhao Jing to suffer brutally before he dies, and what better way to do that than to get closer. He'd heard through more underhanded associates that bars like this were the perfect place for the older man to come, his unnerving habit of picking up young, pretty men a loudly spoken secret in the circles he ran. And so Wen Kexing had made an effort, tight leather trousers that accentuated his long legs, a silk shirt barely buttoned flashing off pale, creamy skin, the shape of his collarbone, jewellery that caressed the hollow of his throat, a hint of lipstick, of smudged eyeliner, grungy, but still somehow classy, rich but dangerous. Oh, he'd had no interest in picking up the bastard, but if he looked nice enough then maybe he could find a way in, and that had been a worthwhile endeavour.
Except, there was no sign of hide nor hair of the man, and Wen Kexing's drink had become more ice than liquor by the time he's interrupted. His irritation sits sharp in his throat, bitter like acid, threatening to snap.
And so he's about to send the interloper packing when he pauses, taking a moment to get a proper look at the man beside him. Oh, Wen Kexing thinks foolishly, not a total waste of time then. A dark gaze sweeps down over the tall, built figure smiling prettily his way, down and then up, and then back down again in a slow, greedy drag of eyes. Eventually he swallows, smile turning sly, moving to cross his leg at the knee, rest his elbow upon it and then his chin on his palm, all lazy, easy movement. )
Don't worry.
( His voice is warm, amused, all but a purr of sound. )
no subject
Except, there was no sign of hide nor hair of the man, and Wen Kexing's drink had become more ice than liquor by the time he's interrupted. His irritation sits sharp in his throat, bitter like acid, threatening to snap.
And so he's about to send the interloper packing when he pauses, taking a moment to get a proper look at the man beside him. Oh, Wen Kexing thinks foolishly, not a total waste of time then. A dark gaze sweeps down over the tall, built figure smiling prettily his way, down and then up, and then back down again in a slow, greedy drag of eyes. Eventually he swallows, smile turning sly, moving to cross his leg at the knee, rest his elbow upon it and then his chin on his palm, all lazy, easy movement. )
Don't worry.
( His voice is warm, amused, all but a purr of sound. )
You can be as forward as you like.