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Hua Cheng wakes feeling bold, needy, and a little insecure.
He isn’t sure what’s triggered the third this time — he only knows that it has grown from its usual size, blanketing him and saturating those feelings of boldness and neediness.
He knows, of course, exactly what will fix him, but he can’t bring himself to ask for it directly. Hua Cheng spends the day letting the feeling needle away at him, sticking him with little pinpricks that slowly but surely bleed out the apprehension in him.
Xie Lian hasn’t seemed to notice any of his subtler attempts at getting attention. He has no trouble asking for it in a normal context — he basks in that kind of attention, truly — but he loathes the idea of asking Xie Lian to do something to him rather than letting him take the reigns. That isn’t what Xie Lian would want.
Still, he aches.
Xie Lian glances up from the text he’s reading, a lengthy instructional on balance in one of the new sword arts he’s been researching. “San Lang, you’ve been staring for quite a while. Is something wrong?”
Hua Cheng’s eye widens. He hadn’t realized he’d drifted so far from himself. “Not at all. Gege is simply too beautiful for this lowly one to look away from.”
Xie Lian blushes, but his eyes narrow. “Haven’t we learned the consequences of belittling my husband in my presence?”
“But gege, this one is lowly in your presence,” Hua Cheng complains, though his smile gives away the fact that he’s merely teasing.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian scolds, frowning now.
“Gege,” Hua Cheng says just for the fun of it, stretching out on the divan and resting an arm over the side in a clear invitation for Xie Lian to come snuggle against his side. “Won’t you grace this lowly husband with a kiss?”
“San Lang. Enough.” Xie Lian’s voice is sterner than Hua Cheng expects, and it startles him a little. He feels as if he’s shrinking when he watches Xie Lian stand and cross the room, unsure of what will come next. Fortunately, Xie Lian only settles into Hua Cheng’s side with a huff before leaning up to kiss him softly. They melt into each other’s embrace, and when Xie Lian pulls away, his cheeks are dusted pink. “I don’t like to hear you speak of yourself like that. If you say it out loud, you only reinforce it in your head.”
Hua Cheng frowns. “I was only teasing gege. This lo—” he pauses. The insertion had been instinctual. “This one apologizes.”
Xie Lian raises an eyebrow. “You see? The more you say it out loud, the more natural it becomes for you to degrade yourself.” His hand raises to cup Hua Cheng’s cheek, stroking over the edge of his eyepatch lightly. “You know I think the world of you, right, San Lang?”
“En, I do.”
Xie Lian hums. “Then will San Lang try not to be cruel to himself? For me?” he pauses for a moment, then adds, “Otherwise, he may not like the consequences.”
Hua Cheng blinks. “But gege, what if i want to suffer—” he takes a meaningful pause, “—the consequences?”
“Tell me what you want clearly, San Lang,” Xie Lian says, appraising him.
Hua Cheng looks away.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian prompts again.
“Would you be rough with me in bed if I asked, gege?” Hua Cheng asks, a little nervous. It’s hard to let the feeling consume him entirely whenever Xie Lian is this close, though.
Two fingers rest beneath his chin and pull his face back. Hua Cheng meets Xie Lian’s eyes and swallows thickly. “How rough, San Lang?” Xie Lian answers. His voice is low — he’s intrigued.
“I want gege to be mean to me…” Hua Cheng starts, his voice small. “And maybe— maybe— never mind.”
“San Lang, tell me.”
“I don't think gege would like it,” Hua Cheng says instead.
“There’s no way for you to know that unless you ask,” Xie Lian tells him gently, fingers leaving the underside of his jaw and trailing down. “Besides,” he murmurs, “I think I know what it is.”
Hua Cheng goes stock-still as Xie Lian’s fingers wrap around his throat. His hand applies no pressure, but Hua Cheng still feels like he can’t breathe. “Gege?” he asks, eye wide.
“Is this it?” Xie Lian asks with a knowing smile. “Every time my hand gets too close to your throat, your eye goes half-lidded. You aren't very good at keeping secrets like this from me, San Lang.”
“Sorry, gege,” Hua Cheng whispers, his throat flexing beneath Xie Lian’s hand. He feels collared. He feels owned.
“That doesn’t answer my question, sweet boy,” Xie Lian tells him gently. His hand starts to fall away, but Hua Cheng snatches his wrist and presses it firmly to his throat again.
“Yes,” he croaks. “I like it.”
Xie Lian still looks a little startled, but he relaxes again, leaning in closer so that he’s balanced directly over Hua Cheng’s lap. “I can see that.”
“Does— does gege like it?”
“I like how much you seem to like it,” Xie Lian says. His fingers tighten their hold on Hua Cheng’s throat ever-so-slightly, and Hua Cheng can’t help but make a soft whimper beneath them. “Like I said, I want anything San Lang wants. I don’t mind trying new things with you, and even if they don’t… arouse me, the sight of San Lang like this does.”
“Like what, gege,” Hua Cheng asks, but he knows the answer.
Xie Lian smiles, leaning in even closer. His breath ghosts Hua Cheng’s lips as he speaks. “Well, you get this pretty blush on your face, and your breathing gets a little heavier. Your expression and your whole body both relax. And you get this look in your eye, the one you’re wearing now. The one that tells me how much you love this.”
“Gege,” Hua Cheng starts, but his thoughts feel a little fuzzy, and it takes him longer than usual to remember what he wants to say. “Will you be rough with me? Please?”
“Mm. If you’re good and answer my questions, yes.”
Xie Lian’s hand really does fall away from his throat this time, and Hua Cheng fights back a noise of protest at the loss. With a smile, Xie Lian repositions them so that he’s settled comfortably on top of Hua Cheng’s lap, Hua Cheng bent by the hips at a wide angle so that his back is only slightly elevated by the arm of the divan.
Xie Lian looks down at him and says sternly, “Answer me without hesitation, or we’ll stop right now, and we won’t revisit this again for a long time.”
“Ask away, gege,” Hua Cheng says breathlessly, staring up at Xie Lian with a wide eye and a rapidly hardening erection tenting his robes.
“You said you want me to be mean.” Xie Lian leans a little further down, holding himself up with one arm that rests like a pillar beside Hua Cheng’s head. “How mean?”
Hua Cheng thinks for a moment. There isn’t a particular manner of meanness that he wouldn’t accept from Xie Lian, so he has to search in the other direction for what would turn him on the most.
“I want gege to fuck me hard and fast, and I don’t want him to care about hurting me or overstepping while he does it. I want him to treat me like a toy.” He pauses, deliberating whether or not he should include the next part. Xie Lian wanted honesty, though, and he would never deny his god the sincerity he is owed. “And I want gege to degrade me for liking it.”
Xie Lian’s eyes narrow. “We just spoke about belittling yourself, San Lang.”
“Not like that,” Hua Cheng insists, shaking his head as he stares up at his husband. “I’m not asking you to call me lowly. I know you wouldn’t want to do that. But when I think of the things we do together like this, I feel—” he breaks off, then pushes through the hesitation, albeit with a soft voice. “I feel whorish. And I like it.”
Xie Lian’s pupils dilate as he lets loose a breath. “You really want me to humiliate you?”
“Please,” Hua Cheng says, the word cracking in his chest, and that’s all the permission Xie Lian needs to grind his knee down into Hua Cheng’s clothed but straining cock. Hua Cheng’s head falls back with a moan as he relaxes against the divan, feeling Xie Lian’s hands pull his robes apart hastily as his throat is peppered with sloppy, nipping kisses.
“You’ll come like this first,” Xie Lian says, the words warm against the skin of Hua Cheng’s collarbone as his torso is finally bared. “I want you nice and empty-headed before I take you.”
“Yes,” Hua Cheng breathes just as Xie Lian’s hands trail down his stomach and begin to tug at the waistband of his pants. He doesn’t ask Hua Cheng to lift his hips so that he can wriggle them off; no, instead he slips one hand under Hua Cheng’s bottom and does the lifting for him. In the meantime, his other hand curls fully into the fabric and yanks it down so fast it nearly tears.
Hua Cheng looks down the plane of his own chest to meet Xie Lian’s eyes. He looks desperate. Hungry, even.
Good.
Hua Cheng’s cock rests proudly against his thighs, the tip flushed and leaking. Hua Cheng swears he can see it throbbing if he squints. The thought evaporates from his mind as two fingers are pushed expectantly against his lips.
“Open,” says Xie Lian. He only waits for the slightest parting of Hua Cheng’s lips before he’s forcing his fingers in roughly, pressing down on Hua Cheng’s tongue like he’s trying to force out more saliva before a third finger slips inside as well. “Suck.”
Hua Cheng makes a soft noise of affirmation and closes his lips tightly around Xie Lian’s fingers, laving his tongue against the underside as he sucks at them. Spit fills his mouth and he groans around it, eye fluttering shut as he focuses on the task at hand.
Just as soon as they’d entered it, Xie Lian’s fingers disappear from his mouth and leave a thick, trembling line of spit connected to his lip as they draw back. Hua Cheng’s eye opens a little wider, and he tries to complain, but Xie Lian presses a slick finger to his mouth to quiet him.
“Shh,” he soothes. His hand lowers until it’s resting just under his chin, palm cupped upward as if he’s waiting for something. “Spit.”
Hua Cheng’s stomach flips. He obediently lets the spit in his mouth pool before spitting it into Xie Lian’s palm. Some of it doesn’t quite make it and begins to run down his chin, but neither of them move to correct it.
“What are you supposed to say when you want me to stop doing something, San Lang?” Xie Lian asks suddenly.
Hua Cheng swallows. “Incorruptible Chastity Meatballs.”
Xie Lian rewards him with a gentle kiss to his chin, right over the trail of spit. “Good boy. You can also just tell me to stop — I’ll listen.”
Xie Lian shuffles back a little so that he’s sitting on top of Hua Cheng’s thighs. Then his cupped palm travels lower and lower until it wraps around Hua Cheng’s cock and spreads the mess all around it, the spit and precome giving him a slide so slick it could pass for real oil. Hua Cheng moans weakly as Xie Lian works him slowly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against the slit. It’s almost painful, and it makes Hua Cheng shudder with each full turn Xie Lian’s thumb makes.
“So messy, San Lang,” Xie Lian says, his voice low. He’s not wrong — the mess dribbles down the shaft of his cock and pools at the base, slowly creeping down towards the cushion of the divan and coincidentally between his legs. “But this isn’t enough for you, is it?”
Hua Cheng keens as Xie Lian’s pace turns unrelenting, tugging up and down his cock so fast that any less lubrication would have made the slide burn.
“No,” Xie Lian continues, as if he’s having a conversation with himself. Wet, filthy sounds echo around them, and Hua Cheng is too busy trying not to come to care about anyone hearing them. “My San Lang can never be satisfied. He always wants more.”
“More,” Hua Cheng echoes in a gasp, unconsciously fucking up into the tight, wet grip of Xie Lian’s hand before suddenly the other presses down hard on his hip, slamming him down to the divan as his hand strokes him mercilessly.
“Aren’t you listening?” Xie Lian asks. “Greedy. Take what you’re given.”
His wrist twists in a way that causes his whole hand to slide around Hua Cheng’s cock, and Hua Cheng comes with a strangled cry. It’s mangled in his throat, and he tips his head back as his hips jerk against Xie Lian’s firm hold, mortified at just how quickly he’d came. And is still coming.
“You really do like this,” Xie Lian murmurs, his voice tinged with slight disbelief as he works Hua Cheng through the dregs of his orgasm. “Oh, but San Lang, did I say you could come?”
Hua Cheng’s eye snaps open as he comes down, feeling like he’s been submerged in warm water. His mouth can’t stop opening and closing, and when he meets Xie Lian’s eyes he finds the expression in them to appear dead serious. “I’m sorry, gege,” he rasps, and Xie Lian tilts his head.
Xie Lian regards him coolly. “Tell me our safeword.”
“Incorruptible Chastity Meatballs,” Hua Cheng slurs.
“Do you need to use it?”
“No. Keep going.”
“Good. I asked you a question, San Lang. Did I say you could come?”
“No,” Hua Cheng says again, his voice hinging on a whine. “This one is sor—sorry for—”
Xie Lian cuts him off with a laugh. “But sorry isn’t enough,” he says. “What if I wanted you to last longer, San Lang? What if I had other things planned? You couldn’t have kept yourself together long enough for me to stretch you?”
“Sorry,” Hua Cheng manages again, feeling his eye beginning to sting. “Sorry, gege, I didn’t mean to— sorry, I’m sorry, I—”
“Shhh,” Xie Lian interrupts, reaching up with his clean hand to gently cup the side of Hua Cheng’s face. His thumb brushes away the tear that races down at the touch. “Shh, it’s alright, gege’s got you.”
San Lang trembles. No, his mind screams. This isn’t what he asked for. He wants it rough, not gentle! If Gege keeps touching him like this, he’ll shatter!
“Oh, but I shouldn’t be too harsh on you,” Gege says softly. “Of course you came quickly. I can’t blame you, San Lang, I really can’t. After all, you’ve thought about this all day, haven’t you?”
Oh.
San Lang shivers. He moans softly, but he can’t tell whether he’s agreeing or protesting.
“It’s all you’ve been able to think about,” Gege coos. “It’s all you ever think about, isn’t it?”
San Lang sinks harder. He can’t feel his fingertips, and Gege’s next words are audible, but he can’t hear anything coherent. He’s never drifted this far before — he tries vaguely to remember where he is, but can’t see through the bleariness in his eye. There is a firmness against his chest that wasn’t there before, but that’s the only feeling he can register.
San Lang isn’t sure how much time he loses as he tries a little harder to pull back. Gege said something, and he is nothing if not good for him, so he must reply. San Lang trembles. He is swaying back and forth, he’s sure of it, but he still feels too fuzzy to think straight.
“San Lang, San Lang, come back to me a little,” murmurs a gentle voice against the back of his thigh, and San Lang— Hua Cheng is suddenly able to decipher his husband’s words.
“Gege,” he slurs out, faintly realizing there are two fingers inside him and that he’s been flipped and bent over the divan. He wonders if his own spend is inside him right now, stretching him wide to take all of Xie Lian’s cock, and he moans.
“Good, so good,” Xie Lian murmurs, pressing a chase kiss to the base of his spine. “Are you alright? Do you want to stop?”
“Nnno, s’good,” Hua Cheng tries to say, but he doubts the words make any sense. He tries again. “I want— want anything gege gives me.”
“Tell me if it’s too much,” Xie Lian says, and then he’s pulling his fingers out and pressing in again with three. He crooks them immediately, the pads of his fingers stroking over Hua Cheng’s prostate and curling into it.
Hua Cheng’s face falls into the divan as he whines out, “Oh, fuck,” and pushes back against Xie Lian’s fingers. “Gege, right there!”
“I don’t think you’re in a position to be making any demands, San Lang,” says Xie Lian, scissoring his fingers apart for an easier stretch as Hua Cheng clenches around him with a keen. “You already came without permission. I’m not about to let you do it again before I’m even inside you.”
The promise of something more than just Xie Lian’s fingers fills Hua Cheng’s head with an indescribable haze. “Please,” he mouths against the fabric of the cushion, fingers curling into it so hard it might rip soon. His voice is too quiet; Xie Lian might not have even heard him, so he says again, “Please fuck me.”
Xie Lian pinches the inside of his thigh. It stings, and Hua Cheng whimpers at the touch. “Behave,” Xie Lian says.
“Yes— hah— yes, gege.”
Xie Lian works him open until his fingers can slide in without any resistance at all. He hums, pleased at the progress, before he leans down and presses a kiss against Hua Cheng’s lower back, fingers slowing to a halt inside him. “You opened up so easily for me, San Lang,” he praises, but the tone of it feels condescending. Hua Cheng throbs.
Xie Lian pinches his thigh again. “Answer me.”
Had there been a question? He hadn’t heard it.
“Bwuh?” Hua Cheng asks intelligently, then splutters to correct himself. “What?”
Xie Lian’s fingers pull out of him, but one remains close to circle his rim. “I asked if you’re ready for me,” Xie Lian says slowly, making sure Hua Cheng is hanging off each syllable. “But you’re so loose that the answer couldn’t possibly be anything other than yes, could it?”
Hua Cheng feels himself drifting again. He fights it, fights to stay aware enough to feel the moment his god pushes inside him, but his grasp on his thoughts is weaker than ever. He groans pitifully into the cushion as the tip of Xie Lian’s finger dips inside him again. It’s not far enough in to be particularly pleasurable, but the fact that it could go deeper makes his stomach turn with anticipation.
“Gege is— gege is right,” Hua Cheng manages, breathing hard as Xie Lian’s finger retreats and the sound of something wet echoes behind him. “Please fuck this lowly servant.”
Xie Lian’s hand curls into his hair and jerks him back. It doesn’t hurt, but Hua Cheng wants it to. He wants it to hurt so badly. He gasps as he’s tugged back, and then promptly goes breathless when he feels something warm press against his entrance.
“I told you,” Xie Lian says, lips brushing Hua Cheng’s ear, “not to speak ill of my husband.”
He pushes inside in one slow, fluid movement. There is no pausing for them to catch their breaths, no break for Hua Cheng to adjust to the girth of the cock splitting him open. He can’t remember the feeling of being empty, can’t imagine anything other than the very real feeling of being full. Sated, he moans weakly, still held up by his hair as Xie Lian settles into him.
Then, in a low, hushed voice, Xie Lian continues: “Only I can do that.”
The first thrust is measured. It’s an easy slide, of course, but it’s not enough. “Gege,” Hua Cheng begs. “Please.”
Xie Lian’s hand tightens its grip on Hua Cheng’s hair, forcing out a whimper, soft and sweet and so wholly unlike him that he’s revolted by it.
Xie Lian pauses, fingers loosening, and Hua Cheng falls back onto the divan with a quiet oomph. “Oh,” Xie Lian murmurs. “Do you like this, San Lang? Do you want me to pull your hair?”
“Please,” Hua Cheng babbles, desperate for something, anything. “I do, gege, yes, please just— please fuck me, please—”
Xie Lian draws back, and then he grabs Hua Cheng by the hair and yanks him up roughly. Hua Cheng cries out as his hips snap forward again, more precise this time, driving into him so hard it makes the divan shudder.
“Like I said,” Xie Lian drawls, his voice so low it barely carries over the sound of Hua Cheng’s soft cries as skin slaps against skin, “San Lang is greedy. He never stops wanting.”
“Never,” Hua Cheng gasps out. “I want— oh, I always want gege—”
“And I always want you, beloved, but sooner or later you’re going to have to learn some patience.” Another thrust, harder than the last. Hua Cheng feels himself cracking apart. “I’ve spoiled you, haven’t I?”
Hua Cheng doesn’t have a response — not one that comes in the form of words. His back arches as he digs his elbows into the divan and tries to fuck back onto Xie Lian’s cock, desperate to meet him in the middle.
“San Lang, if you’d told me even a month ago that I’d take you like this, I never would have believed you.” Xie Lian’s free hand reaches down to tug at Hua Cheng’s cock, keeping it safe from being pressed too tightly to the divan. “Look at you. Big bad Hua Chengzhu on his knees for me, taking me so sweetly.”
Hua Cheng moans so loudly he startles himself.
Xie Lian laughs a little breathlessly, hips still driving into him so roughly that the divan thuds against the wall loudly. “Careful, now,” he murmurs, mouth still hovering near Hua Cheng’s ear. “If you’re too loud, someone might hear.”
It’s not true, of course. Of the few servants he employs, most know by now to steer clear of this side of Paradise Manor after dark. Their quarters are located far away — so far that Hua Cheng could scream at the top of his lungs and they still wouldn’t hear — but the idea makes him feel dizzy.
Xie Lian is mostly quiet, only making quiet grunts each time he bottoms out. Suddenly, he inhales sharply, letting his grip on Hua Cheng’s hair go slack. He catches Hua Cheng before he can fall, though, placing that same hand on his chest and holding him that way. It snakes higher and higher with each thrust. Hua Cheng trembles under his touch.
“Would you like it if everyone could hear you, San Lang? Would that be such a bad thing?”
Hua Cheng’s half-lidded eye is bleary with tears that threaten to spill. He nods frantically, tipping his head back in the hopes of looking Xie Lian in the eye. He can’t quite manage it, and Xie Lian laughs softly before his hand stops at the base of his throat, fingers wrapping around it gently and squeezing.
“You tell me if you need to stop,” Xie Lian reminds him, voice low. “Tell me in the array, send me a butterfly, or push me away. Can you do that, San Lang?”
“Yes!” gasps Hua Cheng. “I’ll be good, gege, I will, just—”
“Good.” The hand around his throat tightens, squeezing until his airflow begins to thin, and Hua Cheng sinks back into the soft, staticky feeling of thoughless bliss as he pushes out what little air he has left.
Hua Cheng doesn’t need to breathe, not really, but he’s gotten used to it. It always comforts Xie Lian, so it became as natural to him as it had been when he was alive. Besides, he needs air to speak. So when Xie Lian’s hand squeezes his throat, pressing so tightly against his windpipe he can’t breathe, he cannot help but begin to choke.
Filthy noises are quite literally wrung from his throat as Xie Lian continues thrusting up into him. The loss of airflow to his brain dazes him, but suddenly the grip on his throat disappears and he chokes harder, spit dribbling down his chin as he tries to manage a combination of hacking, gasping for air, and moaning for more.
“Shh, easy,” Xie Lian chides, his voice taking a gentler edge as he rubs soothing circles over Hua Cheng’s heart. His pace never falters — if anything, he’s fucking Hua Cheng harder now.
“Gege—” he tries to cry out, cutting himself off with a cough that wracks his whole body. Tears stream down one side of his face. “More— more, plea—please more, gege—”
“I know,” Xie Lian murmurs, kissing his shoulder gently. The contrast between the soft press of his lips and the feeling of Xie Lian’s cock driving up roughly against his prostate nearly makes Hua Cheng come on the spot, but he resists. “Catch your breath a little first.”
It takes longer than it should, mostly because Xie Lian fucks him through it and because he can’t stifle the noises that interrupt his airflow. Finally, when he’s back to taking reedy, shallow breaths, Xie Lian’s hand returns to his throat and squeezes once lightly.
“Please,” Hua Cheng whispers, and Xie Lian’s pace and grip turn merciless.
“You love this, don’t you?” Xie Lian asks pointedly without expecting an answer. “You love being full. I wonder what people would think if they knew how Crimson Rain Sought Flower spent his evenings.”
Hua Cheng keens as Xie Lian returns to stroking his cock, working him hard and fast as he’s sent hurtling towards the edge.
“I could tell them.” Xie Lian clicks his tongue. “I could tell all of Heaven right this instant, San Lang, but I don’t think they’d be surprised.”
San Lang doesn’t sink. He plummets.
He isn’t sure what’s said for the next long while. He isn’t sure what he feels other than the pleasure that numbs all of his senses for anything but itself. Faintly, he recognizes the sound of loud, high moaning, but it couldn’t possibly be his own voice, could it? Gege doesn’t sound like that, though; Gege’s voice can go that high, but it sounds different, and that means the voice must belong to—
Something seizes his whole body. San Lang feels— he’s wet and warm and tight and he shakes around the feeling, shuddering as the pleasure overtakes him and drums against every inch of his skin. San Lang sobs and writhes. Or, he thinks he does, at least, because the numbness is fading from his body gradually as he comes down.
He’s still sobbing when he registers the hands on him, one jerking his cock and forcing out weak, meager spurts of come while the other strokes his face gently, wiping the tears as fast as they fall. Gege is murmuring something to him as he wrings the last of San Lang’s orgasm from him, but San Lang can’t understand a single word. He hums, finding himself unable to open his eye.
He is shifted gently, carefully, until his back presses against something solid and warm. Gege’s chest, surely, because he still feels full, which means Gege must still be behind him. San Lang leans into the touch, relaxing, and he feels Gege’s chest rumble with a soft laugh as his hand brushes stray hair from San Lang’s face.
“—like this for a little while,” Gege says. San Lang doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but he hums anyway, still halfway floating. He feels brainless, thoughtless. He loves it.
San Lang doesn’t know how much time he loses like that. Enough to register the sensation of water all around him, of a hand cleaning gently between his legs, of his hair being washed and rinsed and combed through. He hums drowsily each time he hears Gege speaking to him in a low voice, hoping it will suffice as a response.
He doesn’t fully come back down until he feels a hand gently part his lips and tuck something inside. San Lang instinctively sucks on Gege’s fingertips, prompting a quiet laugh before Gege’s fingers push in a little further and secure the object between San Lang’s teeth. His mouth tastes strangely sweet.
Gege’s fingers leave his mouth and reappear at his jaw, pushing it up until the object is crushed between his teeth. “Chew,” he says gently. San Lang feels a little ecstatic that he’s recognized the command and eagerly obeys. “Good, San Lang, thank you. Swallow for me.”
The flavor of lychee begins to register on his tongue as he moves it, letting himself swallow the chewed fruit. Every action seems slowed, every sense dulled. He’s still blurry around the edges, but he’s coming back.
“Perfect, sweet boy,” Xie Lian coos, his voice dripping with affection and pure adoration. San Lang feels so loved he could burst. “You were so good for me, beloved, so good. Come back to me for a little while.”
San Lang hums. “Gege,” he says, his voice raspy. He chokes around a cough and is suddenly shushed.
Something cool presses to his lips when he recovers. “Drink,” Xie Lian instructs, and San Lang does, tipping his head back to take small sips of water that soothe his sore throat. “Thank you, San Lang. Can you open your eye for me?”
Blearily, San Lang blinks his eye open and is met with the blurry sight of his beloved god. He can’t help but smile as he greets, “Gege.”
They’ve moved to their room, the walls and furniture around him boasting elegant shades of red. San Lang breathes in and blinks his way back to clarity.
Xie Lian’s smile is wide as he nods, answering, “Welcome back, sweet boy. How are you feeling?”
Hua Cheng conveys his satisfaction in a long, drawn-out hum. “So good, gege,” he breathes, his voice still a little sleepy. “It was so good. Thank you.”
Xie Lian leans up, the mattress dipping with the movement as he presses a chaste kiss to Hua Cheng’s widow’s peak. “I’m glad. I liked it, too.” He trails kisses down, pressing them to the bridge and then the tip of his nose, his cupid’s bow, and each cheek before finally meeting Hua Cheng’s lips. When he pulls away, he asks, “Was there anything you didn’t like?”
“Mm, no. Gege was perfect.”
“My San Lang was perfect, too,” Xie Lian says, kissing his cheek. “Is there anything else about tonight we should talk about?”
“Like what?” Hua Cheng tilts his head, but it swims at the motion. He still feels a little blurred around the edges.
“Like the things you especially liked,” Xie Lian tells him, his voice still soft and soothing. “Or things you’d like me to remember for next time.”
Hua Cheng thinks for a little while. He does have something he wants Xie Lian to know, but he isn’t sure how to word it. “I loved tonight,” he starts, sighing a little in relief when he remembers Xie Lian won’t interrupt him, “I really did, gege, but— could we maybe only be rough every once in a while? It’s a lot. I loved it, but it’s a lot.”
“Of course we can, San Lang,” Xie Lian nods. “I wouldn’t want to do it too often, either — it’s hard to think of ways to be mean to you!”
Hua Cheng smiles a little. “Gege is too kind to this husband.”
“Nonsense,” Xie Lian says, kissing him. He’s smiling when he pulls away, the look in his eyes warm and loving. “My San Lang deserves all the kindness in the world and then some.”
“Gege!”
Xie Lian chuckles. “Was there anything else you wanted to mention?”
“Hm. I liked the way you were… nice, but still mean,” Hua Cheng mutters, a little embarrassed.
“Can you give me an example?”
“Like when you teased me for coming too soon and said I couldn’t help it,” Hua Cheng says, feeling the tips of his ears go red. “It felt like you were making fun of me a little. I liked it a lot.”
Xie Lian hums. “I can do that,” he nods. “I don’t mind doing that outside of rougher times, if you want. It’s when I have to be harsh with you or deny you things that I struggle.”
“Gege really does spoil me!” Hua Cheng says, laughing. His chest feels light and airy.
“Oh, but San Lang is so easy to spoil,” Xie Lian beams, kissing the corner of his mouth even as it trembles with laughter. “He deserves the very best.”
“Gege deserves it, too.” Hua Cheng pauses, then grins. “Also, I seem to recall gege liking being talked down to like that…”
“San Lang!” Xie Lian groans, laughing now. “You’re really too much!”
“But gege, I thought you couldn’t get enough of me?” Hua Cheng raises one hand to tap his waiting lips.
Xie Lian sighs at his antics. “If you wanted a kiss, you only needed to ask.”
“Alright. Kiss me, gege?”
His answer comes in the form of warm lips against his, and Hua Cheng relaxes into the feeling — soft, safe, and sweet.