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When Shen Qiao returned to Mount Xuandu's Chang'an residency in the late afternoon, it was to the slightly dejected realisation that Yan Wushi had not yet arrived at the temple.

Nowadays, Yan Wushi had busied himself with travelling; this past month, he had set out with the intention of searching for an old friend of his, in pursuit of useful information regarding the Tujue's internal affairs and plotting. And prior to that, it had been Shen Qiao who was forced to be absent in favour of caring for Mount Xuandu Sect's affairs as well as his own disciples, lest their studies go astray. Thus, the two spent more than two months apart from one another.

Upon returning from his journey to the Purple Manor, Shen Qiao took his time to walk around the Chang'an residency and greet the people busying themselves there. Some were simple servants sweeping the stone steps, changing the beddings and taking care of other more domestic chores. Others were disciples on their way to and from training and classes, chatting among themselves hushedly. Most of these disciples were still new and wet behind the ears, but at least nowadays, after setting up a more easily accessible temple in Chang'an, there seemed to be more of them applying, practically flooding the training grounds.

Shen Qiao leisurely walked the halls and long corridors with his pale hands and slender fingers clasped behind his back, a pose perfectly representing the way his beloved person's demeanour has rubbed off on him. On his way to the backyard, every servant and several disciples greeted him with reverent stares and adoring gazes; a sight Shen Qiao appreciated but had never quite managed to get used to, no matter how much time had passed.

Upon reaching the backyard, it was Yu Shengyan's figure which caught his eyes as the young man crouched under the cherry-tree blossoming in the courtyard, with his back facing Shen Qiao. The Taoist couldn't quite see what the youth was up to, only the way his long ponytail flipped around above the canvas of his dark robes as he tilted his head left-to-right, very much as if it had its own mind. Shen Qiao carefully walked up behind the disciple on the small stone path, minding the softness of his steps lest he alerted the young man.

Stopping a few steps away from Yu Shengyan, Shen Qiao couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Yu Shengyan, mischievous and handsomely charismatic as he was, was cutting and offering rabbit-shaped apple slices to A-Qiao, the small deer Yan Wushi had been tending to over the years.

The little fawn has grown quite a lot by now, its legs longer and its body more filled out with muscle. Even the blunt peaks of its antlers have started to grow sharper and more defined, making the deer's insistent nudging downright painful when playing got rough.

It has probably gained quite a lot of weight as well, although that was more likely the result of all the enamoured people who couldn't stop themselves from sneaking a few treats to the deer upon seeing its round black eyes peering at them curiously from the yard.

Shen Qiao watched on as Yu Shengyan fed two whole apples to the fawn, and only when catching sight of the young man reaching for a third apple did he hasten to clear his throat.

Yu Shengyan visibly jumped, seemingly shaken out of his idyll; it seems he has gotten lost in the moment while pampering A-Qiao. Shen Qiao stood in place, his eyes betraying a spark of amusement as they followed Yu Shengyan's figure scrambling to his feet in a not-so dignified manner.

With a barely visible blush colouring the top of his high cheekbones, Yu Shengyan cupped his hands and bowed towards Shen Qiao with due respect. His voice was just a touch louder than usual as embarrassment heated the youngster's skin upon getting caught slacking off in favour of admiring and pampering the little fawn.

"Shen-zhanjiao, welcome back. This disciple hopes you have had safe travels with no mishaps nor troubles on your way."

Shen Qiao indulged the youth with a small smile, tipping his head forward in an answering nod to the young man's greeting.

"This humble one is glad to see you are enjoying your stay at this crude temple of ours. How are gongzi's studies coming along?"

Yu Shengyan perked up at the question, his previous embarrassment already forgotten in favour of proudly puffing out his chest, a self-satisfied smile pulling at his handsome features and a youthful glint enhancing his dark eyes.

"Thanking Shen-zhanjiao for his inquiry. This disciple has managed to reach a breakthrough in his cultivation after the last few trying months. Thanks to Shizun's careful guidance, of course."

Now it was Shen Qiao's turn to perk up. Although he couldn't help but internally chuckle in amusement while picturing the ways Yan Wushi would 'carefully guide' Yu Shengyan with his cultivation, he quickly forgot about the formerly exchanged pleasantries. Instead, with a voice just barely betraying his excitement, he redirected the topic of the conversation towards this so-called 'Shizun' of Yu Shengyan's.

"Has Yan-zongzhu already arrived in Chang'an then?"

Yu Shengyan didn't know whether he should have felt exasperated by it or have found it cute, the way Shen Qiao tried and failed to conceal his excitement to see Yan Wushi as soon as possible. Poor Shen Qiao would surely get a great handful of his husband's teasing if Yan Wushi saw his expression right now.

In the end, Yu Shengyan found he only felt pity towards the poor priest —to have fallen for a man as erratic and ravenous as Yan Wushi, what a trying situation it must be for naive and innocent Shen Qiao!— as he tipped his head to the side, bringing his shoulders up to his ears.

"The last time I heard of Shizun was when I received a letter from him half a week ago, saying that he would be back in a few days. I haven't met him as of yet, but he should arrive in a short matter of time."

Yu Shengyan managed to feel only a small sliver of guilt as he saw Shen Qiao's excitement retract upon hearing the news.

The beautiful priest usually hadn't let many of his emotions escape through his expressions, and if he did, it was usually a conscious act of revealing his honest feelings. Yu Shengyan did not dare, however, point out how easily decipherable the Taoist's thoughts became over the years whenever it came to Yan Wushi.

After a moment of silence between the two lean figures standing in the backyard, A-Qiao has decided to take the liberties of nuzzling up to Shen Qiao's thigh. The little fawn probably shared at least a tiny bit of the sentiment; Yan Wushi always seemed to bring the tastiest treats.

Shen Qiao extended a hand and patted the little deer's head with a soft smile, using a thumb to sweep off a speck of dust from its cheek. Playing and rolling around in the dirt; ever since it's been getting fed properly, the little fawn was brimming with the youthful energy of a child, running about and playing in the mud like a toddler who had just learned to walk. Turning from timid to shy to curious and to a little rascal; watching A-Qiao really was like what watching your child grow up must have felt like.

Rather suddenly, the clear chiming of bells filled the backyard, and an older woman's slightly raspy voice echoed through the temple's corridors.

"Time for dinner!"

Looking up at the sky to see its usual blue colour tinged with yellows and reds around the horizon, Shen Qiao realised that it has indeed gotten quite late. Yu Shengyan's face brightened upon hearing the call, and he took a few steps towards the soft bustle of the slowly filling corridors before turning an inquiring gaze towards Shen Qiao. The latter only smiled at him with his eyes, speaking softly.

"Feel free to go ahead; this humble one has already eaten on his way back."

Yu Shengyan nodded, and with Shen Qiao's permission no longer hesitated to walk over to the slowly but surely densing crowd. Really it was a lot of hassle, standing in line and basically fighting for food, but ever since Yu Shengyan discovered how delicious the temple's cooking was, he made it a routine to visit the canteen at mealtimes.

Shen Qiao gazed after him for a bit longer, then turned to A-Qiao and slipped a carrot from his sleeves, quietly feeding it to the fawn who enthusiastically gobbled it up. Shen Qiao petted the deer's head when it finished eating, and brought up a finger against his softly smiling mouth, as if telling the little fawn to keep this a secret between just the two of them.

Shen Qiao slipped into his room, which took place at a separate building at the far-off end of the backyard, quieter, more secluded, more distant. Soon enough, the soft bustling from the far-away corridors was gone, and the only remaining noise was that of chopsticks and plates clinking against each other, with an occasional laugh and the low sound of murmurs coming from the dining disciples and cultivators.

Shen Qiao slid his small travelling pouch off his shoulder, placing it on the table with a quiet 'thunk' sound. Staring outside the window, he found that the sun had already disappeared below the horizon, and the last slivers of light were also slowly following after. The late-spring winds were still gently blowing, albeit not as warm as in the light of day, but still a pleasant feeling as they blew in through Shen Qiao's open windows, playfully tangling themselves into the priest's long locks of ink-black hair.

Shen Qiao stared outside in a bit of a daze; the weather was tame and the scenery peaceful, and he was pleasantly tired with a stomach still comfortably full from when he stopped at an inn not long ago, just on the outskirts of Chang'an.

There was only one component missing for the perfect evening.

The Taoist let his eyes shift closed and heaved a soft sigh, caught by the wind, gone without a trace. He turned on his heels when he noticed footsteps closing in from the outside, and soon enough, heard a firm knock on the door. Shen Qiao let go of where he was leaning against the window sill.

"Come on in."

The door opened, and an elderly man entered. He bowed low in respect with his hands extended in a salute, but still wore a warm smile when he looked up, his eyes forming thin lines and crinkling at the corners. His long hair has already turned a fair shade of grey over his many years of life, and it was held up in a simple low bun just above his nape. Although his robes were of a rather rough and coarse material, they were neat without a single wrinkle in them.

"Shen-zhanjiao, this lowly one apologises for the disturbance. May I inquire whether Shen-zhanjiao wishes to take a bath?"

Shen Qiao bowed in response, a small responding smile forming at the corners of his mouth. The old servant belonged to the Huanyue sect, and it was actually Yan Wushi who had insisted that he stay at their Chang'an residency. The elder was essentially a private servant, although in order to placate the forever refusing Shen Qiao to let someone look after him, they called him Yan Wushi's butler.

Shen Qiao gave a low, considering hum. The roads were dusty and the winds strong, with the sun already heating the grounds in its late-spring prowess, and he indeed felt the grime and dirt on his skin from his travels. A bath would be nice, actually.

Taking his momentary silence for hesitation, the elder offered "It really is of no trouble. This lowly one has already taken the liberties of drawing up the water to fill the tub as soon as he had heard of Shen-zhanjiao's arrival. It only needs to be heated up."

Shen Qiao smiled at the servant apologetically, then nodded his head."I'm sorry to have troubled you."

The servant hurriedly shook his head in denial, his eyes no longer narrowed in a smile but instead round with surprise as he enthusiastically opposed.

"Oh, dear zhanjiao, it was no trouble at all! This lowly one is happy to be of service to Shen-zhanjiao in any way he can. You truly work too much."

Shen Qiao blinked at him, his mouth curving into an exasperated little smile.

"Still, thank you for your services."

The servant beamed at him and bowed.

"You are welcome at any time. Please allow this lowly one to warm up the water now."

The servant patiently waited until he heard Shen Qiao's assenting little hum, and only then turned to the side to walk off to the small building's washing room, separated only by a tastefully decorated privacy screen. There were only two tiny drawers and a crude wooden-tub in the room, barely spacious enough for two people to fit in it.

The servant pushed up his sleeves and lowered his hands into the bathwater, then sent a careful current of his spiritual energy into his palms and started stirring. The water sloshed gently as it got heated, and after a few more minutes, steam was wafting from its surface in thin clouds.

The elder was a cultivator in the end, merely one who had abandoned advancing in his martial arts in favour of finding a more stable job to make a living of. Yan Wushi had proven to be a generous master, and caring for Shen Qiao came naturally, the soft-spoken and gentle but upright and honest nature of the priest making the elder take a liking to him even more.

The servant used his sleeves to wipe away the excess water clinging to him as he pulled back from the tub, minding not to spill any on the floor. Peeking out from behind the privacy screen, he caught sight of Shen Qiao faced away from him, absentmindedly flipping the pages of an old book on the table, though the Taoist turned around as he felt the pair of black eyes watching him.

"The water has been warmed, Shen-zhanjiao."

Shen Qiao nodded and hummed appreciatively.

"Thanking Liu-qianbei for his help."

The servant smiled again and excused himself from the room without any further ado, leaving Shen Qiao to his privacy. Shen Qiao took a moment longer to stare at the now closed doors of his quarters, wishing, in the back of his mind, that they would open again, but this time with a certain person standing behind them. He shook his head as if to ward off the thoughts, and sighed as he instead started tugging at his sash. The clothes he wore could under no condition be called overly complicated or, in fact, anything special, but the number of layers and the intricate knots of his sashes holding them together would be enough to give anyone a headache.

After moving behind the privacy screen separating the bathing area from the rest of the house and undoing his sash, Shen Qiao began peeling the layers of clothes off himself, revealing his lean figure more and more with each piece of removed clothing. He made himself a mental note to wash his dusty robes later as he moved to fold them up one by one and leave them on one of the small drawers behind the privacy screen. After taking off his boots, he reached up to carefully remove his simple but elegant hairdo as well while still wearing his rough linen pants, freeing his hair from its silver-crown by pulling out several pins, letting the bun fall apart and his inky locks spill down along his back.

Shen Qiao took a few more moments to undress entirely, then carefully raised a long leg over the bathtub's wall, dipping his toes into the warm water before stepping inside fully. He took a moment to sit down, leaning back and sinking into the tub until only his head and neck remained above, his long hair splaying out in the bathwater like spilled ink, heaving a satisfied sigh at the warmth surrounding him.

For a few moments only the soft splashing of water and the distant buzz of evening insects filled the room. Shen Qiao felt himself slide into a comfortable daze as he absentmindedly played with his hands, watching on as the soft ripples of water hit the bathtub's walls.

His thoughts, once again, for the umpteenth time this day, wandered towards his husband.

'What has Yan Wushi been up to? When will he be back? Has his mission to gain information turned out successful? Had he run into any trouble on his way?' and several similar questions floated their way into Shen Qiao's mind unbidden.

His train of thoughts then travelled back to the last time he saw Yan Wushi, on the day Shen Qiao left for Mount Xuandu. His beloved had clung to Shen Qiao as if he feared that the Taoist wouldn't return this time around, peppering kisses all over Shen Qiao's face while circling his arms around the lean man in a vice-like hug. Even though both of them knew very well that even if Shen Qiao tried to leave Yan Wushi, the latter wouldn't let him go. An unsaid oath; a promise, and —coming from Yan Wushi— a threat.

Shen Qiao found himself huffing a small puff of laughter at the memory of his husband feigning heart-break —with his lips jutted out, his eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes widened in the perfect image of a betrayed wife who's being forced to stay behind by her husband— as Shen Qiao finally broke himself free from the hug. Or more like got freed when Yan Wushi's grip loosened as Yu Shengyan, who really never had any luck with timing, had intruded on them, slinging open the doors to their private quarters.

Well, he guessed he also remembered the intimidating look Yan Wushi had shot Yu Shengyan the moment the disciple opened the door, only to immediately turn on his heels and slam it back closed. Really, that capricious husband of his.

Shen Qiao sighed a fond little sigh, then closed his eyes and slid lower in the bathtub until he completely disappeared under the warm water, only to emerge after a few moments. Gathering his hair to flow down against his shoulder he reached towards the close-by drawer, carefully retrieving a small clay-jar of oil.

The earthy but fresh smell of herbs filled the air as Shen Qiao started applying the oil to his hair, making sure to spread it evenly, using deft fingers to unravel any tangles in his way as he massaged the oil into the straight black strands. Reaching for the next clay-jar he stood up, feeling the hurried run of water-droplets all across his skin, their quiet dripping as they fell back into the bathtub a resounding noise in the silence of the room.

Neither Yan Wushi nor Shen Qiao liked strong-smelling cosmetics, thus the soap that the two of them used nowadays barely had any scent, and it couldn't obscure the smell of their skin. Which was a delight, honestly, as it turned out that even though neither of them were particularly vocal about it, they still very much liked the way the other's skin smelled. Especially at nighttime, before and after their usual... routines, they would often squeeze close and circle the other in a warm and comfortable —albeit sometimes a bit sticky— hug, drinking in the familiar smell, as well as the heat surrounding them, lulling them to sleep.

Shen Qiao's movements halted midway as he spread the soap across his skin to instead blush down to his nape and try to fend off the onslaught of resurfacing memories — memories of sweat and heat and thirst, of mingling breaths, of filthy murmurs and shameless moans, of skin against skin and heartbeat against heartbeat.

It was when he started lowering himself in favour of sitting back into the tub that a low, slightly raspy voice resounded behind him.

"What's gotten A-Qiao blushing so prettily?"

Shen Qiao came very close to actually hitting Yan Wushi in the face as he winded up and slung a fist towards the source of the voice by instinct. Alas, the man himself was always faster, and Shen Qiao's left hook was stopped mid-air by Yan Wushi's palm. Shen Qiao let slip a soft "Ah" sound as he realised that the only person who would —and one of the very few who actually could— sneak up on him was his beloved husband.

Shen Qiao's first reflex was to be delighted at the sight of the man, happy to finally see him after so long spent apart, and his lips curled into a soft smile. That is, until a question surfaced against the happiness of finally seeing his beloved, ringing in his mind clearly against the flood of words he wished to say to his husband before his mouth could actually open.

How long has he been watching for...?

The realisation of his own very much unclothed state kicked in. Shen Qiao tried to lower himself into the bathwater as a means to hide his body, but was momentarily stopped by Yan Wushi, whose hand had already crawled its way up the Taoist's arm, and was holding onto his elbow in a tight grip.

Shen Qiao tried to go regardless, his face a gradually deepening shade of red as he tried to tug his arm free. Although he averted his gaze and couldn't see Yan Wushi's eyes, he could still very much picture the mischievous glint in them as the man stared at him, his pitch-black irises eventually dipping lower to follow stray water droplets still clinging to his husband's skin.

Oh, how he's missed his lover, these past months.

Yan Wushi seemed entertained by his husband's embarrassment, but eventually decided to have pity and loosened his grip on the other's elbow. Shen Qiao slid into the bathtub the first chance he got, sinking until only his eyes and nose were above the now agitatedly splashing bathwater. He watched on as Yan Wushi slowly bent forward, finding purchase on the bathtub's opposing sides as he hovered over Shen Qiao, smiling down at him.

"A-Qiao, don't hide. It's been so long since we've last seen each other, so why won't you let me look at you?"

Yan Wushi's dark hair tumbled down around Shen Qiao with the movement like a curtain, shielding them away from the outside, spilling forward and down his shoulders like ink, causing the long locks to dip into the water, the stray silver strands glinting in the light of the lanterns illuminating the otherwise already dark room.

Shen Qiao stared up at the man, taking in Yan Wushi's handsome sharp features, his high cheekbones, his angular jaw, the small curl of his lips, the soft narrowing of his eyes, the ever-so-slightly visible wrinkles adorning their corners. The way he was looking at Shen Qiao, as if he was something precious, something to adore, and, more importantly, something to tease.

Shen Qiao sank lower so his nose was underwater as well, huffing a small breath and averting his gaze to instead stare at the way bubbles floated to the surface. Yan Wushi arched a brow at the immature display, then called out to him again, in a lightly scolding voice that very much resembled the way someone would try to coax a child into eating their vegetables.

"A-Qiao."

Shen Qiao blinked up at him for only a moment before looking back down, then, heeding the unspoken request, raising his face above the water's surface and bringing his palms over it to wipe away some of the stray drops.

Yan Wushi lifted a hand from where it was still holding onto the bathtub, using it to smooth a hand over Shen Qiao's temple, brushing away the thin strands sticking to his wet skin. Shen Qiao lowered his hands and spoke to his beloved in a soft voice, for the first time in more than two months.

"Welcome back, Yan-zongzhu."

Yan Wushi hummed and slid his hand over Shen Qiao's cheek, sweeping his thumb over his cheekbone and catching a stray water droplet. Shen Qiao turned a newer shade of red but tilted his head to the side, pressing his cheek into his husband's palm and staring at Yan Wushi's smiling face as the man dipped down towards him and pressed a chaste kiss to Shen Qiao's lips.

"I'm home, A-Qiao."

Shen Qiao's eyelashes fluttered close as his heart squeezed in his chest uncomfortably, and he shifted in his place to escape the suffocating endearment his husband's words caused to well up in his stomach. Yan Wushi chuckled at him, then slid his hand to Shen Qiao's hair, running his long and slightly calloused fingers through it.

"It seems I've interrupted your bath. Let me make up for it."

Shen Qiao shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"It's not necessary. I was just about to rinse off anyway."

"I'll help you with that then. Come, turn around for me." said Yan Wushi, and when he saw Shen Qiao's mouth opening to protest, he added with an air of finality "Be good, A-Qiao. You'll let me, right?"

Shen Qiao could only huff. Back when they were still only newly married, he would've probably fought back against offers like these more resolutely. It seemed like an undignified situation; he was a grown man, and he could take care of himself, thank you for your concern.

But after years of fending off Yan Wushi and enduring his tricking and teasing, Shen Qiao had learned to let go of some things. Trying to win against Yan Wushi was like trying to have a snowball-fight in Hell, so Shen Qiao had learned to make amends, as he knew the other often did for him. In the end, a thousand Shen Qiao's couldn't outtalk one Yan Wushi. It's better to give up a losing battle with minimal damages than to fight only to delay a defeat that is sure to come.

Yan Wushi washing his hair wouldn't hurt anyone. The extra care would be nice, actually. Just a pure little gesture. Nothing to fret over.

So it was with a soft sigh that Shen Qiao moved to turn around in the bathtub, presenting his back and hair to Yan Wushi. The older man hummed in appreciation, his hands retracting. But, instead of reappearing, they made their way to his robes. Shen Qiao peered over his shoulder when he heard the soft rustling of clothes, only to be met with the sight of Yan Wushi tugging off his sash and sliding his robes off his shoulders, baring his abdomen.

When he caught Shen Qiao looking back at him he smirked and slid a deliberately slow hand over the middle of his chiselled chest, then down the defined planes of his stomach. Raising his chin and cocking his head to the side, he smiled down at Shen Qiao.

The man was staring, and he didn't even realise. How could Yan Wushi not tease him?

With the hand on his stomach changing direction to follow the same path upwards, Yan Wushi watched on with fascination as his husband's eyes followed the movement all the way up to Yan Wushi's bared neck. It was his own low chuckle that shook Shen Qiao out of his reverie, who then raised his eyes to look into Yan Wushi's own, only to immediately turn away again.

Too cute.

Yan Wushi couldn't stop teasing him.

"Just so they don't get wet. A-Qiao likes what he sees?"

Shen Qiao freezed over where he sat despite the warm bathwater, back still facing Yan Wushi. He turned his head to the side ever-so-slightly, just enough to expose his ear tinged a crimson shade of red. His murmur was so quiet, it almost got lost to the soft splashing of water.

"Don't tease."

Yan Wushi hummed indulgently, folding his robes and laying them next to Shen Qiao's on the drawer. After pulling over a tiny three-legged chair and a basin and picking up a small wooden bucket from next to the drawer, he seated himself at Shen Qiao's back with the basin tucked between his legs.

Gathering Shen Qiao's hair in his hands he pulled the mass of black strands outside the bathtub, so any dirty excess water would pour into the basin beneath him, and got to work.

Shen Qiao's thoughts drifted around in a scattered, muffled mess as long fingers slid against his scalp, working dexterously.

To think that Yan Wushi, the number one martial artist across the Central Plains, undefeated and victorious even over Hulugu, would insist on doing a task as trivial and measly as washing someone else's hair. Shen Qiao wondered how the common folk would react if they saw the ever intimidating and arrogant Yan-zongzhu sitting on a tiny chair, rinsing his husband's hair, and couldn't restrain a small giggle.

Yan Wushi's hands didn't still as he drew another bucket of water from the tub and poured it over Shen Qiao's hair, carding his fingers through it with gentle but firm sweeps, moving up with steady movements and unravelling any tangles that got in his path. He hummed noncommittally, a small corresponding smile tugging at his lips almost automatically at hearing his lover's rarely revealed laugh. He bent forward to where Shen Qiao's neck leaned against the edge of the bathtub, and murmured directly next to the man's ear.

"What is A-Qiao thinking about?"

Shen Qiao tried to duck forward in surprise as the husky voice reverberated against his skin but Yan Wushi was quicker, sliding a strong hand over his husband's shoulder and keeping him in place with firm pressure.

The feel of skin-on-skin contact sent sparks running below Shen Qiao's skin, who turned around with a palm against his ear, wanting to rebuke Yan Wushi. His cheeks were dusted with a lovely shade of red, and as his husband huffed and puffed shyly, Yan Wushi only smiled down at him. He placed a kiss against the man's temple, then ushered him to look forward, his palm never leaving his lover's shoulder, instead starting to draw small, nonsensical patterns into it.

"This one was merely picturing the jianghu's common folk's reaction to Yan-zongzhu's... current actions."

Yan Wushi arched a brow where his husband couldn't see it, then poured another bucket of water over Shen Qiao's roots, entertaining the thought.

"What was it like?"

Shen Qiao hummed lowly as Yan Wushi once again dragged his nails over his lover's scalp, then said with a mischievous undertone and a tiny half-smile.

"They would no doubt look twice to make sure they haven't seen it wrong. The number one martial artist of the Central Plains, Yan Wushi, washing a man's hair meticulously. They might as well fear for the Heavens to collapse."

Now it was Yan Wushi's turn to huff out an amused little laugh.

"Not just any man's hair. It's A-Qiao's. Everything belonging to A-Qiao is precious. Only A-Qiao."

Yan Wushi gathered his lover's hair and gently squeezed it to wring any excess water from it, then brought it to his lips, pressing a light kiss to the inky strands.

"All done."

Shen Qiao hummed, sounding a little strangled. Although Yan Wushi couldn't see his husband's face from where he was sitting, with the long hair pulled out of the way, the vivid blush travelling from Shen Qiao's ear down towards the man's shoulders was prominent enough.

Ah, his husband really is too cute.

Yan Wushi squeezed the long locks a few more times, then pulled out a towel from one of the drawers, carefully drying off the rest of the water. Shen Qiao sat there timidly, letting himself be cared for, and a moment after softly tugged upwards by his arm. He looked up questioningly at Yan Wushi, who had moved to his side in the meantime, his other hand still clutching onto the rough towel.

Were they still not done...?

It took a few more moments of nudging, but Shen Qiao eventually swallowed his embarrassment and let himself be pulled up.

Standing there naked in front of Yan Wushi's dark eyes, he suddenly felt more conscious about the water droplets running down his skin than ever before, and he averted his eyes to instead stare at a particularly empty spot in the corner of the room. He waited for something, anything to happen, for Yan Wushi to say something, but he was only met with silence.

He could, on the other hand, feel the man's eyes on himself, probably roaming around to inspect every rise and dip of Shen Qiao's figure. After a few more seconds Shen Qiao found that he couldn't take the suspended silence anymore, so without looking at his husband, he murmured, a little more strangled than intended.

"...What is it?"

Yan Wushi didn't answer. Shen Qiao waited a bit more, and only after a few likewise suffocating seconds had passed did he risk a glance up at his beloved's face, locking eyes with him.

And Yan Wushi had the audacity to choose that one moment to bring the towel up to Shen Qiao's side, deliberately sliding it over the sensitive patch of skin. The man has been waiting for this moment, hasn't he?

Shen Qiao furrowed his brows at Yan Wushi, answering the mischievous gaze with an ever-so-slight jut of his lower lip. Yan Wushi's gaze dipped down to stare at his husband's mouth, his tongue poking out to lick his own. Then, he smirked, and once again spoke in a coaxing voice.

"Be good, A-Qiao. You're still wet all over." Another swipe of the towel, this time over Shen Qiao's stomach. "I'll help dry you off."

Shen Qiao wanted to roll his eyes at the man, but only managed to avert his gaze in his embarrassment, which, for Yan Wushi, seemed to be enough of an assent. Not that Shen Qiao's protests would have stopped him. They had spent enough time together to know what the other wanted, and Shen Qiao —although didn't realise it nor would admit to it even if he had— liked to be coaxed out of his clothes.

Except he was not wearing clothes right now, which only left the process of enticing him into sliding into his husband's arms and letting himself be feasted upon. On their bed.

Now that Yan Wushi had a goal, he would use everything within his reach to achieve it. And what he had closest to him was his own body, and the towel in his hand.

So slowly, carefully, deliberately, he glided the towel over Shen Qiao's skin, seeing more than feeling the minute shivers of the other's body as he smoothed over sensitive areas, the cloth being the only layer separating them.

First, up the planes of his stomach, then the muscles of his chest, over the two light-brown flowers pebbling there from the now cold water cooling them. A soft inhale. Then the shoulders, down an arm, slowly, with calloused fingers entwining at the end, only for the towel to travel back up once again, over the chest, and down the other arm. A tender gaze peering up from under lowered lashes. Stepping closer until skin brushes against skin with every breath, and the towel is on its way up the arm and across the back, down between the shoulder blades, over the expense of muscles tensing with anticipation. Just brushing against his side, then down the muscled mounds, and oh, this accusing gaze is familiar.

Shen Qiao may not be one to drown himself in lust, but that doesn't make him immune to temptation. Especially if Yan Wushi gets a say on the matter.

Donning his most innocent smile, Yan Wushi slid the towel down Shen Qiao's thigh and nudged the leanly muscled limb forward. When he spoke, it was in a deceivingly soft and hushed tone.

"Step out of the tub for me?"

Shen Qiao was getting goose flesh from the teasing touches, but he adamantly tried to keep a straight face as he cautiously raised one leg over the bathtub after the other, all the while never letting go of Yan Wushi's hand. Yan Wushi couldn't help the soft smile tugging at his lips as his husband accidentally tipped forward and pressed their chests together, revealing his heartbeat that very much resembled a trashing rabbit.

Yan Wushi pressed a kiss to Shen Qiao's temple, then, when Shen Qiao turned to look at him, to his forehead. The towel ventured over his lover's thighs while he busied himself with littering kisses over Shen Qiao's face, pressing his lips to the corners of his sweetheart's eyes, very carefully over his eyelids, to the tip of his nose, his cheeks, and the corner of his mouth.

Yan Wushi felt the lowly roiling heat in his stomach flare up as his lover's free hand shyly crawled its way up the muscled arm still working to dry him off, eventually coming to rest on Yan Wushi's shoulder.

Oh, this adorable, tempting man.

Still, Yan Wushi very deliberately avoided his husband's lips as he ventured downward in favour of pressing open-mouthed kisses on Shen Qiao's chin, then along his sharp jawline and down his neck. He could feel the man's rushing pulse against his lips, hear the tiny hitch in his breath from above him.

Shen Qiao barely had the time to register Yan Wushi's smirk against his skin before teeth sunk into his neck in a harsh bite, just above his pulsepoint. He only managed to catch the latter half of the sweet little groan that broke its way from his throat, his nails sinking into Yan Wushi's shoulder in response to the harsh treatment. Shen Qiao huffed as he felt a soothing lick against the mark that was surely already blooming on his skin.

Sliding his free hand up Yan Wushi's neck in a feeble attempt to push his face away, Shen Qiao jumped as he once again felt the wet heat of his husband's tongue as it dipped between his fingers. Yan Wushi kissed the calloused fingertips shyly curling against his cheek, then, after pressing one last kiss to the heart of Shen Qiao's palm, he continued his way downwards across the blushing man's abdomen.

Still using the towel as an excuse to fondle Shen Qiao's thighs and buttocks even though he was already dry Yan Wushi grabbed his husband's ass, using the leverage to pull his sweetheart closer until their hips came flush together, informing Shen Qiao of his interest by rolling the clothed outline of his already hardened length into his husband's half-hard one. Half-hard... this situation would need some more working on.

Yan Wushi pressed a kiss to his lover's collarbone, then continued peppering him until he reached a perky nipple. He glanced up at his husband's face, only to catch sight of an A-Qiao that was beet red and insistently chewing on his bottom lip pressed into a thin line, with his eyes screwed shut.

Now now, they couldn't have that.

Yan Wushi stilled completely just above Shen Qiao's nipple, letting his hot breath ghost over the cute pebbles. As he saw his husband refuse to react, he pressed a kiss to the nipple and pulled back ever-so-slightly so his lips grazed against skin as he called out.

"A-Qiao."

Shen Qiao took a moment to calm himself before he opened his eyes in answer to the call, letting his slightly hazy gaze lock onto Yan Wushi's clear but dark one. And Yan Wushi, sly man that he was, gently bit into his nipple just like that, all the while holding eye contact.

When Shen Qiao's eyes threatened to drift closed once again, he used his teeth to tug at the nub, earning a strangled huff and a weak dap on his shoulder for his troubles. After licking over and pressing a soothing kiss to the pebble, Yan Wushi blinked up at Shen Qiao, who was wearing his adorable little frown, his cheeks a vibrant red as he stared down at his cheeky sweetheart.

Shen Qiao only averted his gaze, to which Yan Wushi once again travelled lower, this time sliding down the defined planes of the man's stomach while murmuring into his skin, making sure to sound as hurt and accusing as possible.

"A-Qiao doesn't like looking at this husband."

Shen Qiao huffed a laugh that was amused, exasperated and hopelessly fond at the same time, and glanced down at Yan Wushi as the man slid to his knees, his own voice too composed for the man's liking.

"Do not think I don't know what you're playing at."

Yan Wushi only hummed back with feigned confusion, pleased at the lack of formal speech, which usually only appeared when his husband was already in the mood. The towel in his hand made its way over Shen Qiao's calves and down his ankles, making sure to pay extra attention to the areas with thin, soft, and sensitive skin to get Shen Qiao properly out of breath.

He delivered more open-mouthed kisses below Shen Qiao's belly button until he was met with the familiar patch of sparse and short hair growing there. He tilted his head to the side, deliberately avoiding his husband's prominent erection in favour of nosing at that patch of hair, breathing in the soft, barely there scent of a man. The smell of sweat and musk wasn't as prominent after a bath, but oh well... Yan Wushi could fix that.

He will fix that.

Shen Qiao's hands flinched where they were still clinging onto Yan Wushi as the kneeling man slowly loosened his grip over the towel, causing it to fall to the ground with a soft rustle. Then, the now free hand ran up the sensitive back of a lean thigh with feather-light touches, ran up and up until it reached the soft line where thigh turned into buttock, and only stopped to massage at their juncture.

Yan Wushi pressed a kiss to the base of Shen Qiao's length, eliciting a sharp inhale, only to turn away and nose at the thin skin of his husband's hips instead. He rewarded himself for a job well done with a firm grip on his lover's ass, only to suddenly back away and cease all contact; he leaned back, causing Shen Qiao's hand holding onto his shoulders to slide off, and let go of the long fingers and the muscled buttock filling hands. He sat back on his heels and met his husband's confused and lust-hazed gaze with an innocent blink and a barely restrained smile.

Let A-Qiao ask for it.

Shen Qiao really felt as if he was being toyed with. He stared down at his beloved just sitting there, staring up at him through lowered lashes, shirtless, with muscles rippling under his skin with every even breath, his hands folded in his lap obediently, even as his erection's outline was clearly visible through his pants' surely suffocating hold.

So then why did he stop?

As if reading Shen Qiao's thoughts, Yan Wushi smiled slyly, then said with a teasing lilt to his tone.

"All done." then, upon seeing his husband's perplexed expression, he added "A-Qiao is all dry."

Shen Qiao's already flushed face turned to a whole new shade of red as he processed his husband's words; Yan Wushi had finished drying Shen Qiao after the bath, which concluded their encounter. With both of them left... in this state. His husband drove both of them to excitement then backed away, leaving his husband the only option of asking for more himself. He really was way too evil.

Yan Wushi was... he was waiting for Shen Qiao to take the initiative and seduce him.

Shen Qiao pursed his lips as he swallowed his pride and made up his mind, then breathed in deeply and raised a hand, carding his fingers through Yan Wushi's hair, deliberately grazing nails against the man's ear. His husband held his gaze as Shen Qiao parted his lips, his pink tongue poking out to wet them, revelling in the way his lover's gaze dipped lower to stare at the tempting mouth. Shen Qiao took an earlobe and massaged it, then let his hand wander over Yan Wushi's cheekbones, down and along his jawline, only to stop at his chin and caress his lower lip with his thumb.

Now this was spring dream fuel. Shen Qiao's mind was suddenly flooded with images of the sight his lover would make kneeling on the floor, working Shen Qiao's length and shamelessly moaning around it, taking more and more and more until he gagged, and not stopping even then until his nose met Shen Qiao's stomach. His eyes would flutter shut as he slid his hand down to roughly palm at his own erection, and then he'd slide off, tracing the veins on Shen Qiao's member as he went, only to then lap up the pre-cum pearling at the end of his sweetheart's cock and swallow the twitching member whole in one fluid motion.

Shen Qiao shivered as he snapped out of his fantasies, his eyes flitting up from where they were glued to Yan Wushi's lips to stare into his husband's eyes as he sat there as unmovingly as before. Then, in a moment of steeled determination, he pushed his thumb past the plush lips, dipping the digit into the wet heat that pliantly opened to make way for him. Yan Wushi's teeth grazed against him as he pushed down on that unruly tongue, only to slide his finger back out and smear his husband's saliva over his chin as he pulled his hand back.

If Yan Wushi's gaze before was filled with lust, now it was downright sinful as it raked over the pale expense of his husband's skin. Shen Qiao's hand retracted as he backed away, turning his back to Yan Wushi as he instead stepped towards the privacy screen, clutching one hand into its wooden frame and glancing back over his shoulder.

Although still patiently sitting right where Shen Qiao had left him, Yan Wushi's dangerous gaze was glued to his sweetheart's back, the heat radiating from his eyes making his husband's guts contract and tangle where he stood baring himself for his eyes. Shen Qiao risked a small sway of his hips as he turned to the side and demurely raised his chin to expose his pale neck, his fairy-like appearance tainted only by the purplish-red bite-mark blooming against his skin there. A small bob of Yan Wushi's Adam's apple was his reward, and he couldn't help a small smile as he said —sounding much more convincing than he felt.

"Would my husband mind to..." a small break, as if he were searching for the words, all the while letting his eyes rake over Yan Wushi's big, leanly muscled body, only to continue shyly "... take this one to bed?"

As if he had been waiting for this exact question Yan Wushi smiled and hummed, then stood up, slowly making his way towards Shen Qiao, very much resembling a predator as it slowly stalks up to its prey, careful not to scare it away. He liked the chase, and Shen Qiao didn't mind being chased, but it's been so long since their last time already.

Yan Wushi wouldn't be able to be gentle with poor innocent little A-Qiao if he let go of himself now.

So slowly, carefully —just as he had courted Shen Qiao in the past— he approached him, waiting to see any kind of hesitance, to see if his husband would grow embarrassed and try to back out of Yan Wushi's grasp.

But the only thing he saw was Shen Qiao's parting lips, his half-lidded eyes, and his dreamy gaze, which seemed to be drifting lower and lower, down across the planes of his husband's abdomen, only stopping to stare at the neglected erection tenting Yan Wushi's pants before once again flicking up to his husband's face. Shen Qiao's tongue darted out to swipe over his lips just as Yan Wushi stepped to him, sliding warm hands to his side and pulling him closer until their hips were once again flush against each other.

Shen Qiao gasped at the rough stimulation of his husband's pants against his own lenght, feeling the ghost of the heat that tented them with his hips unconsciously rolling into Yan Wushi's. What this earned him was two hands sliding over his buttocks, massaging the mounds only to then slide under his thighs.

The only warning he got was a self-satisfied smirk spreading on his husband's face before Yan Wushi grabbed him and hauled him up as if he had weighed nothing.

Shen Qiao barely held back a surprised yelp at the sudden change of position, his fingers hurriedly clawing at Yan Wushi's back in search of leverage. His husband didn't even try to hide the satisfied little hum he made, merely enjoying this new type of closeness as Shen Qiao crossed his ankles at the small of his back, which in turn caused his weight to press down against Yan Wushi's raging erection, providing a sweet but not at all satisfying friction. He chuckled while nosing at Shen Qiao's jaw, replying lazily after pressing a kiss to the thin skin there.

"This husband would be honoured."

Yan Wushi had to go great lengths with his self-control to not just slam his lover against the wall and ravage him right then and there, instead readjusting his hold on Shen Qiao's thighs and carrying him to the bedroom at the other end of the house, all the while peppering kisses and lovebites on the fair neck presented in front of him and enjoying the weak little fight his sweetheart pretended to put up.

By the time Yan Wushi kicked the bedroom's door out of his way with Shen Qiao still clutching onto his neck, he had sufficiently realised that walking with his husband's ass rubbing against his own erection did not, in shocking fact, make his composure any better.

Actually, his self-control was now crumbling at double the speed it had been before.

By the time he pushed Shen Qiao down against the sheets into the centre of the bed and looked at him only to see a panting, mewling wreck, with his neck red from fresh bite-marks and hickeys blooming across it, his lips in a small pout —and still not kissed swollen—, his pupils hazy and dilated as he stared up at Yan Wushi adoringly, he didn't have the patience to beat around the bush anymore.

Yan Wushi stilled for a moment. Breathe in, breathe out. Gently, calmly. Carefully. Don't scare him, don't frighten him. Cherish, cherish.

Shen Qiao was confused by the sudden lack of movement, and —blissfully unaware of his beloved's inner turmoil— in the back of his foggy mind thought that Yan Wushi was waiting for him to initiate again. Way too strung out and riled up to consider his already tattered dignity, he carefully rolled his hips against his husband's erection, using his hold around the man's neck to pull himself up and press open-mouthed kisses along his jawline, worrying at the thin skin there.

When Yan Wushi still didn't move and only his muscles trembled minutely with the force of his self-restraint wrestling his lust for control over his body, Shen Qiao mewled against his ear and bit onto the soft earlobe presented in front of him, only to then soothingly lick it and rub his cheeks against his husband's.

On the other hand, Yan Wushi's train of thought was speeding up and probably about to derail completely any minute now.

Keep breathing. Keep it cool. What is A-Qiao even up to? Seducing Yan Wushi? Isn't that way too cute? Is that legal?

Yan Wushi turned his head and nosed at the sensitive patch of skin just below Shen Qiao's ear, murmuring with an ever-suffering sigh as he did his best to compose himself.

"This is torture. A-Qiao is torturing me."

Shen Qiao's mind was still clear enough for him to process what his husband had said, but not clear enough to be embarrassed as he rebuked with another punishing bite against Yan Wushi's ear, grumbling sullenly.

"Yan-Lang was the one who made trouble first. He should know better than to keep teasing. And..." Shen Qiao trailed off and instead bit the shell of his lover's ear, leaving Yan Wushi on the edge of his seat as he waited for his lover to finish his sentence. Let alone this intimate title Shen Qiao preserved strictly for when they were in bed, he's been acting suspiciously tame, letting himself be handled like a good-mannered housecat. Yan Wushi hummed an inquiring little purr against his husband's ear, deciding that he may as well also pull the bed-titles.

"What is it, Shen-Lang?"

Shen Qiao squirmed against him, his hug tightening around Yan Wushi's neck until the man was wondering whether his husband had finally made up his mind to try and kill him. Yan Wushi lifted a hand from where it was originally supporting his weight on the bed and slid it down Shen Qiao's back, feeling the body in his clutch tremble, this time with his lover's thighs pressing against his waist, caging him in. The answer came in a tender whisper that made Yan Wushi's arrogant and infamously cold heart melt in his chest.

"It's been a long time. I've missed you."

Shen Qiao rubbed his cheek against his husband's as if to distract him from what he had just said then slid back onto silk sheets, deliberately raking his nails down Yan Wushi's back and softly smiling at the way the man stared down at him as he went. His cheeks were surely a glowing shade of red as he loosened the tight grip of his legs and instead parted them as far as his flexibility would let him. Batting his long lashes, Shen Qiao murmured.

"Yan-Lang won't be taking this one then?"

Needless to say, no man in his right mind would be able to turn away from this beauty asking for someone to fill him. And Yan Wushi —although pretty close to going insane from his already painful erection and the lack of friction against it— was very much still in his right mind.

He couldn't deny his sweetheart anything even if he tried.

Only barely resisting the urge to bend down and kiss Shen Qiao silly then and there, Yan Wushi instead pulled back in favour of sitting on his heels once again. Big, calloused fingers travelled up the expanse of milky white thighs presented in front of Yan Wushi , and he couldn't help but marvel at the way the soft skin indented to the slightest press of his fingertips.

Yan Wushi's gaze dipped down to stare at Shen Qiao's member which was slowly turning into an angry shade of red from the continuous neglection, then past his stones and down to the small ring of muscles that made him recall countless sleepless nights from before. Yan Wushi licked his lips, then forced his gaze away and hurriedly reached to the bedside to fumble around the night-stand, retrieving a tiny pot of fragranceless oil and impatiently unclogging it.

Inching back on the sheets he coated two of his fingers with a generous amount of the oil, bringing them to Shen Qiao's entrance and gently smearing some of the lube across it. He didn't dip in, not yet, not until he kissed his way down from his lover's belly button, once again reaching the small patch of hair there. He kept massaging as he pressed a kiss to Shen Qiao's base, then brushed his lips up the underside of his husband's cock with feather-light pressure, raising his eyes to look at his husband's face.

Shen Qiao was already slightly out of breath, chest heaving as he stared down with dark and hazy eyes right into Yan Wushi's own frenzied and lustful ones, their heated gazes meeting halfway in the air selfishly separating them, sending sparks flying down both of their spines. Yan Wushi felt his lover tremble as he pressed a kiss to the slim lenght's head straining against his lips, then —all the while staring into Shen Qiao's eyes unblinkingly— he opened his mouth and swallowed his lover's cock in one slow, fluid motion.

A moan tore its way from Shen Qiao's mouth, the man tossing his head back at the feeling of Yan Wushi's wet, searing heat surrounding him and causing sparks to dance at the corners of his periphery. His husband lifted his head then sank back down, pressing his tongue flat against Shen Qiao's cock, tracing the pronounced veins protruding there as he started to bob his head in a frustratingly slow but steady rhythm.

Meanwhile, the insistent massaging at his entrance was slowly becoming more forceful, with Yan Wushi's middle finger dipping in again and again and again, until it didn't pull out and instead slid in until the second knuckle. Shen Qiao became a wanton mess at the sensations surrounding him, with his length swallowed by Yan Wushi, the man's free hand working whatever he couldn't envelope with the sultry heat of his mouth, and with the finger on his other hand now moving steadily in and out of Shen Qiao's hole, occasionally brushing against that small bundle of nerves that made his insides churn and constrict nervously.

He reached out helplessly, first threading then curling his fingers into Yan Wushi's thick-stranded hair in search of purchase, his other hand gripping tightly at the pillow his head laid on. Yan Wushi gave an appreciative hum at the tight pull against his scalp, the provocative sensation going straight to his erection, making it twitch where it was tenting his pants.

He felt pretty sure his cock would suffer permanent damages if he didn't get friction any time soon, so as he pushed a second finger into his lover's ass and made a scissoring motion he slid his other hand down to push his pants lower and finally, finally freed his aching length. He sucked in a breath around Shen Qiao's member as his hand curled into a narrow circle around his own cock, pumping once, twice, the gratifying sensation paired with the heady taste of his husband threatening to send him over the edge far too soon.

One more finger and a direct jab against his prostrate and Shen Qiao let out a low, throaty sound that very much resembled a growl, his thighs coming up to cage Yan Wushi's head as he involuntarily pushed his husband's head lower where his mouth was still swallowing his own member hungrily, his hips driving up into the maddening heat with small jolts. Yan Wushi went willingly, his hips jerking at the mind-numbing sensation of his husband's length hitting the back of his throat, only to then feel it slide deeper until he gagged around the twitching cock, his throat constricting around his lover.

As soon as he heard a shamelessly loud but strained groan, Shen Qiao blinked open his eyes which have drifted shut somewhere along the blowjob and hastily used his hold on Yan Wushi's hair to pull him back up, his overwhelming pleasure retracting in the face of worry. His mouth opened to apologise and ask whether his husband was okay only for the words to get stuck in his throat as soon as he caught sight of the man.

Yan Wushi was the living embodiment of eroticism. Saliva and precome were dribbling down his chin, his lips swollen and slightly gaping open as he panted for air, his cheeks dusted with beautiful blush and his eyes alight with a hungry fire, with only a ghost of the previous clearness remaining in them. Shen Qiao breath hitched as his gaze trailed lower to where Yan Wushi was clutching onto his own weeping member, his hand having stilled on himself with thick rivulets of pre-come dribbling from his slit and streaming down his fingers.

Yan Wushi had almost come from... deep-throating Shen Qiao.

Shen Qiao was once again quite sure that his face had turned to an unrealistic shade of red as he dumbfoundedly stared down at his husband.

It only took a few moments for Yan Wushi to recollect the remaining scraps of his composure and huff a laugh as his lover's hand slid to his face, pushing stray strands of hair behind his ear in a silent apology. Amused by the guilty and at the same time spellbound expression on his husband's face he put on a pout and puffed out indignantly, his voice rough and husky from the overuse of his throat.

"Shen-lang is bullying me."

Shen Qiao's fingers slid against his skin as the man donned an incredulous look, although he couldn't quite hide the indulgent little smile tugging at his lips as he hummed and murmured an apology.

Shen Qiao's hand moved along Yan Wushi's face in a feather-light caress, his fingers tracing the curve of those plush lips reverently, only to then slide under Yan Wushi's chin and teasingly tickle him as if he was trying to soothe an overgrown cat. He huffed a small sigh, a fond smile now fully adorning his handsome features as he beckoned his cheeky husband closer, pulling him up from where he kneeled between Shen Qiao's spread legs with a hand on his nape.

As Yan Wushi once again towered over Shen Qiao's lithe figure with powerful but gentle arms curling around his neck and pulling him forward, he could see the stars in his lover's eyes, his long lashes casting shadows against his rosy cheeks in the dim light of the room.

There was nothing else right here, right now, just the two of them and the gratifying relief of their lips finally meeting in a familiar kiss.

It started with small pecks, which then gradually turned into open-mouthed kisses, right until it wasn't enough anymore and Yan Wushi started demanding entry, licking along the seam of his lover's mouth, nibbling on his bottom lip, then gently catching it between his teeth and tugging at it. Shen Qiao pliantly parted his lips, Yan Wushi a more than welcome intruder as he slid his tongue inside, mapping out the warm cave, tracing over tongue and teeth for the umpteenth time in their time spent together. It tasted a bit weird, like something bittersweet but barely there, and Shen Qiao flushed at the memory of where his husband's mouth had just been, his thighs squeezing Yan Wushi's hips in his frustration at the reminder.

It wasn't exactly a... turn-off, no. As a matter of fact, it was quite the opposite.

On the other hand, Yan Wushi's mind was spiralling into a lust-induced haze. He already knew this warmth, knew the mild-mannered slide of Shen Qiao's mouth, remembered the sweet taste of his tongue, remembered the way their lips fit together perfectly as they tilted their heads. And oh, their bodies slotted together just as easily, Yan Wushi habitually nestling his crotch between Shen Qiao's milky white thighs, the small but insistent roll of his hips earning him a strangled gasp that he instantly swallowed.

Never breaking the kiss and still hungrily laving at Shen Qiao's mouth, Yan Wushi hurriedly lubed his fingers again, reaching down to roughly tug at his member and smear oil across it. The anticipation was killing both of them as he guided his length to his husband's puckered entrance, feeling the small ring of muscles twitch at the familiar feeling of the blunt head pressing against it.

When Yan Wushi came up for breath, he gently bumped his forehead against Shen Qiao's. He waited unmovingly until that beautiful man blearily opened his eyes, revealing two bottomless lakes of affection that threatened to swallow Yan Wushi whole. Shen Qiao's breathing was ragged, and his voice came out breathless and weak as he smiled up at his husband, raising his chin to press a chase kiss to Yan Wushi's lips as he murmured.

"Go on."

Yan Wushi didn't need to be told twice.

The word 'gently' repeating in his head like a mantra, he drove his hips forward in a desperate movement, his muscles trembling with the force of his restraint, sliding into that searing heat and groaning at the maddening sensation. Shen Qiao moaned lowly, his legs once again coming to cage Yan Wushi's waist, crossing at the ankles. The familiar and pleasantly burning stretch was gratifying, but... not nearly enough. Digging his heels into Yan Wushi's lower back he tried to wordlessly urge his husband deeper, but the man wouldn't budge, only continuing his aggravatingly careful entrance with eyes shut tight and eyebrows knitted in concentration.

Shen Qiao felt overwhelming fondness well up in him knowing his husband was trying his very best to be gentle with him, but this was simply not the right time to be so careful. This, right now, was more like torture.

Shen Qiao had to take things into his own two hands.

Collecting his scattered thoughts he tightened his hold on Yan Wushi's waist and rolled his hips, sending his husband's twitching member deeper, right into that bundle of sensitive nerves, causing his stomach to tighten. Shen Qiao bit his lip to cage in the shameless moan threatening to break free even as Yan Wushi groaned, his control cracking and leaving him to snap his hips forward with unforgiving strength.

Shen Qiao couldn't stop the growl that tore its way from his throat at the feeling of Yan Wushi sheathing himself fully inside, snugly fitting their joining bodies together. Leaning in once again, their breaths mingled in the air between them.

Happy at this long-missed closeness, Shen Qiao surged forward and pressed a flurry of soft but hungry kisses against Yan Wushi's face even as the man chuckled into his husband's skin. Helplessly fond, Yan Wushi embraced his lover's waist and nuzzled into the man's skin, nibbling on an already purplish spot at the crook of his neck and murmuring.

"I missed you, Shen-lang."

Shen Qiao answered with a whimper and another impatient roll of his hips. Yan Wushi peppered every bit of his husband's skin within his reach with open-mouthed kisses, his own hips slowly pulling back and pushing forward, building a steady rhythm that left the both of them reeling.

The friction, oh so gratifying, was effortlessly chipping away Yan Wushi's last sliver of self-restraint, leaving him to succumb to the snarling and trashing animal caged in his chest, howling for him to be closer, to be rougher, to take and take and take until the man beneath him, a panting and oh so beautiful mess, had nothing else to give him. The jerky movements of his hips quickly turned into forceful thrusts, driving himself deeper and deeper into his beloved as far as he could possibly go.

Shen Qiao welcomed the enthusiasm, his own hips rolling back steadily to meet Yan Wushi's erratic thrusts. His nails raked over his lover's back and once again dug into his beloved's skin at a particularly hard thrust, and he was fairly sure that he had drawn blood, but the thought quickly scattered in his mind as Yan Wushi aimed at that sweet spot inside him, pounding against it again and again.

At this point in time Shen Qiao could no longer care to fight against the sounds clawing their way up from within the depths of his chest, his breaths coming out in powerless whimpers and mewls more often than not. He clung to his husband, wanting to get closer and then closer still, until they couldn't be separated, until their shadow had become one, until their hearts joined to beat together in the same jerky rhythm. He bit at Yan Wushi's lower lip and pulled at it roughly, the answering growl and that pink tongue sliding into his mouth sending shivers up and down his spine.

Shen Qiao was getting properly pounded at this point, his mind a foggy mess, his rim stinging from the abuse, and his lungs burning with every gulp of air entering them. Yan Wushi clutched at him, his embrace a suffocating vice around Shen Qiao's waist, keeping him in place and unable to pull away from the rough plundering.

Not that Shen Qiao wanted to pull away.

Shen Qiao once again initiated a kiss, and it was a mess of teeth clacking and tongues sliding and drool mixing, with each man doing his best to swallow the other's choked out sounds. Shen Qiao came up for breath and found it in himself to slur out a string of words, the syllables only partially intelligible as he panted out "Yan-lang, Yan-lang'' again and again, louder with each ram of his lover's hips.

Yan Wushi felt more than saw his husband get closer with every second, knew the little tell-tales of the body beneath him, the clench of that entrance around the length filling it, the desperate clawing against his back, the ragged, throaty moans that his lover would never admit to making. He knew it all from heart and took pride in being the only one to know it; took pride in being his husband's first and only one. With that thought and the wild beast in his chest urging him on, he once again bent down and resumed the task of devouring his husband, belatedly realising the growling chant on his own lips as he fed the words to his lover.

"A-Qiao, Shen-lang, you're mine, mine, mine, mine alone."

Shen Qiao did his best to respond to his husband's assault through the dazed, lust-induced haze in his mind, his tongue clumsily tangling into Yan Wushi's as he slurred out breathlessly between the ravenous kisses rained upon him.

"Yours, yours, all, nh, all yours."

The beast in Yan Wushi's chest purred at the words like a sated cat, lapping up its master's words as if they were the most delicious cream.

Shen Qiao tangled his fingers into the lush fall of Yan Wushi's hair, which now once again fell around them in a lustrous curtain, separating them from the outside. It granted Shen Qiao the confidence to say the words he would often be too shy to say when not in this blissed out state of fondness. He caressed his lover's face clumsily but as carefully as he could possibly afford to, and craned his neck to press a bafflingly chaste kiss to Yan Wushi's lips, his words breathless and soft as a breeze as he whispered.

"I love you."

It came as a surprise, but a welcome one; that simple sentence washed over Yan Wushi with the force of a thousand waves, and had him toppling over the edge embarrassingly quickly. Words were never necessary between the two of them, but the power they held was evident with its effects, reducing a man as domineering and powerful as Yan Wushi into a moaning, whimpering mess as white-hot pleasure filled his mind to the brim. His hips stuttered until only the jerky rolling of his hips remained as he filled that branding cavern with his spend, and kept on spilling still until he felt it trickling out of Shen Qiao's entrance and down the crevice of his ass.

Shen Qiao clenched around his husband at the feeling of Yan Wushi's throbbing length inside him, rolling his hips again and again around that oversensitive, slowly softening cock. Coming down from his high, Yan Wushi brought a hand to his lover's twitching member, stripping it roughly and with no finesse, and then Shen Qiao was coming as well, painting their stomachs white with a shameless moan that echoed back from the walls.

They stayed like that for several long moments, basking in that blissfully sated post-orgasm haze, just letting their breaths slow and their limbs tangle until the sticky mess of cum started to dry on their skin just uncomfortably enough to disrupt their quiet.

Shen Qiao was the first to attempt to rise, but then there were hands circling his wrists and pinning them down against the rumpled sheets.

Yan Wushi pressed a kiss against his beloved's lips at the inquiring gaze Shen Qiao sent him, slow and languid and tempting, a sensual show as he licked along the seam of Shen Qiao's mouth. He nibbled on that soft lower lip already swollen from being kissed, then smiled against it mischievously, and oh, Shen Qiao had a bad feeling about this.

His fears were soon confirmed as he felt Yan Wushi's length, still snugly nestled inside him, stir once again with renewed interest. He gasped as Yan Wushi rolled his hips, then bit his lip as his husband murmured against his ear in that sultry, affected, mind-numbingly husky voice.

"Mn, I also love Shen-lang. And I've missed him" punctuated with a slow drag of his cock along Shen Qiao's inner walls, then a rough snap of his hips and a dangerous chuckle "quite a lot. Let me make up for all the times I couldn't make you scream, Shen-lang. You'll let me, right?"

Shen Qiao inhaled shakily, his own spent member betraying his interest. Gods, this was going to be one long night, wasn't it.

— the end —