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Xie Lian returns to their house on Mt. Taicang at sunset after visiting the village at the foot of the mountain, bringing back a basket full of fresh produce and tea leaves. He smiles as he sees Hua Cheng standing in front of their cabin, carefully removing their fresh laundry from the ropes between the trees where it had been hanging and drying in the sunlight.
As if sensing Xie Lian’s return, Hua Cheng turns around and smiles. “Gege. You’re back. I missed you.”
Xie Lian laughs fondly, warmth settling deep into his belly. “I was gone just for a day.”
Hua Cheng pouts. “Gege knows it doesn’t matter how long he is gone. I get so lonely without him.”
“You are impossible, that’s what you are,” Xie Lian nods decisively, making his way to the house. “Did the yellow stains come off?”
“Mmhm.” Hua Cheng agrees, folding Xie Lian’s pristine white robes. “Sunlight removes anything, even carrot stains. Gege should know, it’s one of nature’s own stain removal methods that we sorely lack in Ghost City.”
“A-ha. So that’s why a lot of ghosts opt for colorful clothes?”
Hua Cheng laughs. “As if I know,” he says, making Xie Lian smile in turn. “Come one, let’s get inside.”
Xie Lian nods, eager to sit down after the long hike. It is not that he needs it per se, but it would be silly to ignore the opportunity now that he that has a chance to rest freely if he wants. He starts cooking, comfortable silence stretching out between them as Hua Cheng tidies up the cottage and sets the table for the two of them.
“What’s for dinner?” he asks, plopping down elegantly and watching Xie Lian, who has tied up his sleeves with a white ribbon in order to not repeat the carrot incident of the previous day.
“Vegetable stew,” Xie Lian answers without thinking about it too much. He definitely starts thinking about it, though, upon witnessing the state his vegetables are in. “San Lang… I think… I might have overcooked them.”
Hua Cheng nods gravelly. “I’m sure gege meant to prepare mashed vegetables instead of stew in the first place.”
Xie Lian blinks, the expression quickly melting into an embarrassed smile. “Of course. Please, have some.”
Hua Cheng takes the offered plate and his tongue darts out to taste. “Excellent. Next time, maybe a bit more water and less onion.”
“Alright,” Xie Lian says, voice mellow. The warmth that had entered him upon seeing Hua Cheng earlier is still settled in his belly, making him happy and content. They eat, chatting about their day in the dim candlelight, shadows flickering on the walls of the cabin. Hua Cheng tells him about his upcoming carpentry projects, of how he wants to improve the porch and the fence. And Xie Lian…
Xie Lian tells him about the small plush dolls he had seen at the market, tiny and cute in their dark clothes and wearing white smiling masks. His expression turns wistful. “And you know, San Lang, they really reminded me of you. Well, that one version of you. The one I wasn’t, ah, very kind to.” He flushes with embarrassment.
Hua Cheng’s face turns solemn, his dark eye glimmering in the candlelight. “Gege was plenty good to that ghostling. Gifting him a name, allowing him to accompany gege. Allowing himself to sacrifice himself for gege.”
Xie Lian chuckles morosely. “I gifted you a no-name.” He sighs, staring at the shadows dancing on the walls, the way he has one and Hua Cheng does not, a sure sign that his husband is dead. He has made peace with his past long ago, even with the deeds he is not proud of. However… “I just hope I could have had a chance to treat him better.”
Hua Cheng looks thoughtful for a moment, his elegant brows furrowing. “Gege. What if… what if we had that ghostling join us some day?”
Xie Lian jolts and blinks. “Join us for…?”
Hua Cheng laughs and the deep sound sends shivers down Xie Lian’s back, thick anticipation replacing the earlier comfortable warmth in his veins, wrapping him in a blanket of lustful promises. “Yeah. Exactly that, gege. It’s not as if we haven’t had other versions of me joining us in bed every once in a while.” His eye glints and he smiles, sharp canines flashing. “Pray tell gege hasn’t lied to this San Lang about enjoying it, too.”
Xie Lian flushes fiercely, the pink of his skin disappearing all the way under his robes as he stutters, desperately seeking for words that would save him some dignity. “Of course not, San Lang,” he mumbles, feeling a distinctively familiar spark tugging at his abdomen.
“So. Gege wouldn’t be against it? Giving that little ghostling a show of his lifetime?” Hua Cheng’s voice wraps around his brain, making it very difficult to think all of a sudden.
“I… ah. Must we talk about this while we’re eating?” He finally manages to sputter, face red.
Hua Cheng laughs, boisterous, and takes a spoonful of his overcooked stew, smacking his lips like he’s enjoying the best meal in all his existences. “That’s not a no, gege.”
A silence.
“…No. It’s not a no.” The words come out as a mumble. Hua Cheng’s laughter rings in the air as Xie Lian stumbles up to do the dishes. Finally with his back to Hua Cheng, he lets a small smile grace his lips.
It was definitely not a no.
Wuming wakes up with a croaky gasp, his eyes feeling sore and throat parched. Disoriented, he does not know where he is nor what day it is. What year is it, even?
The last thing he remembers is pain: terrible, ugly pain that forced his soul out of his body, tore him apart and shattered his spirit until there was nothing left except for a continuous ebb and flow of agony, his soul desperately attempting to weave itself together again.
He swallows with slight difficulty, the visceral movement of his throat bobbing grounding him to the present. He does not regret anything. After all, Wuming is nothing but a lowly servant for His Highness, his eternal slave that would gladly sacrifice himself over and over again just to get trampled by His Highness repeatedly.
Although… his current situation is unlike anything he has ever experienced before.
Blinking, he takes in his surroundings—a huge bed with lush red beddings, beautifully carved wooden walls, the room illuminated by soft candlelight and smelling vaguely of fresh flowers. He does not know what to make of it, this odd situation he is currently in. He does not remember reforging his body and parsing his torn souls back together at all and yet, here he seems to be, in the flesh.
Wuming pinches his arm just to make sure he really is not hallucinating. The sharp sting proves him right.
Against all odds, he is really here.
“Are you awake?”
Wuming startles, a tremor coursing through his body. He knows that soft, beautiful voice that caresses his insides with ever pronounced word, sets him alight.
He knows it.
Turning around to stare at the overall direction of the headboard, he sees him.
Xie Lian. His Highness.
Wuming’s beloved.
“Your Highness,” he rasps, the words barely making it out of his chapped lips, lips currently unrestricted by the—mask!
He is not wearing his mask.
Before he can truly appreciate the sight of his beloved, Wuming is already scrambling to his feet, only to fall on his knees before Xie Lian, forehead touching the ground. “Forgive me, Your Highness,” he chokes, voice unsteady. “My mask—”
“It’s alright,” Xie Lian interrupts him, peculiar amusement and softness in his voice. “Wuming is very handsome, I don’t mind.”
Wuming is struck speechless, rendered motionless. His mind is desperately trying to grasp this fine-warped reality before him filled with soft lights, soft beddings, soft words. It is softness he has never experienced in his life before.
“I—” he starts, not knowing what to say. And so he continues to kneel until he hears Xie Lian move, soft footsteps padding closer until a thin, faultless finger touches his skin and raises his head to meet his god’s eyes.
That smile. Gods. That smile will be his undoing.
“Why don’t you get up?” Xie Lian says and it is not a suggestion, really. Wuming stands up instantly, still unsure of where to put his eyes. The shame of having His Highness looking at his ugly eye threatens to be almost too much and he fights an urgent will to just close them. If he had a beating heart, it would surely be hammering out of his chest.
“How are you feeling?” Xie Lian asks, like it is the most normal thing to have Wuming wake up in his—his home?
“Good,” Wuming says. “…Confused,” he dares to add after a small pause.
Xie Lian laughs softly and the sound sends a jolt of happiness surge through Wuming. “You have been sleeping for a long time, little ghost.”
“How long?” He is not sure if he actually wants to hear the answer.
Xie Lian hums. “800 years. And a bit.”
Wuming’s mouth falls open and a tiny sound of surprise escapes him, totally forbidden. He snaps his mouth shut instantly. It had taken him 800 years to parse himself together and find his beloved again? Utterly unforgivable! He almost falls back on the floor to prostate before his god, but miraculously manages to stay put.
Xie Lian laughs again. “It must be a shock. Well, my most devoted believer is here now and that is all that matters.”
Wuming cannot help it, he blushes despite being very much dead. “Why?” he dares to ask hoarsely.
“Because I wanted to see you. Or, in fact, both I and my husband.”
Wuming’s eyes blow wide and he gasps. The tentative joy he was feeling just a moment ago turns into a horrible feeling of jealousy that shakes him to the core. Xie Lian’s husband? His beloved had married?
He tries to feel joy for his god but something inside him rots at the thought, his stomach twisting and pulling uncomfrotably. “Oh.” It is the only thing he manages to say.
“Mmh,” Xie Lian contends and suddenly grabs his hand. “Why don’t we go and meet him? He’s waiting for you, too.”
Wuming shudders at the unexpected touch of His Highness’ skin against his own, gentle warmth seeping into his marrow from the simple touch. A part of him is elated—his god is willingly touching him!—while another would like nothing more than to run away before Xie Lian’s husband catches them holding hands.
He gulps. What would he even say? Probably disperse Wuming at once.
Xie Lian, unaware to his plight, pulls him out of that manor full of splendor and into the streets filled with ghosts of all shapes and sizes. They walk across streets and alleys, passing storefronts and stalls, and wherever Xie Lian goes, the ghosts greet him with respect. Wuming cannot understand why His Highness would be spending time with ghosts, especially when he can feel the faint spiritual glow from inside him, a telltale sign of his vital divinity.
“Where are we?” he asks, feeling conflicted as the pass yet another gaggle of humanoid ghosts who giggle as Xie Lian waves at them.
“Ghost City,” Xie Lian replies. “My husband is the lord of this city. A supreme Ghost King.”
Wuming wants to gape in shock but miraculously manages to hold his cool. Not only is his beloved married, but he is married to a ghost? A Ghost King no less! When Wuming was still a Wrath, there was only one Supreme level ghost roaming the earth. Surely that husband could not be…
Xie Lian turns to look at him, and frowns, the expression soon melting into an amused smile once more. “I know what you’re thinking, Wuming. It’s not him.”
Wuming thinks he can hear a faint note of disgust and anger in Xie Lian’s voice but does not push it. Inside, he feels slightly relieved even though jealousy gnaws at his insides and his belly feels like it’s sloshing with acidic vinegar. Apparently Xie Lian has not been tricked into the marriage after all.
It takes them a few more moments to reach their destination, an entrance to what seems to be a grand hall in the middle of the city. Xie Lian is still grasping his hand as he pulls him up the stairs and pushes him into the noisy, rowdy space behind the doors.
“This…” Wuming utters, shocked.
“This is the Gambler’s Den,” Xie Lian says, amused, clutching his hand tighter. “Do you like it?”
“It’s… spectacular,” Wuming says, awed but not quite understanding why his beloved would like to acquaint a place like… this. What exactly has happened during the last 800 years or so?
“Mmhm,” Xie Lian seems to agree. Then he turns to look at Wuming and grins shyly, sending a spark of uneasy heat travel through Wuming’s spine. “There are definitely some spectacular things to behold here.”
Then Xie Lian pulls him forward, ghosts parting before them, mumbling and murmuring reverently as they pass. He hears something about a granddaddy, or maybe a granduncle, and feels even more confused. All eyes are on them as they rise the steep stairs onto the dais above, hidden behind a red curtain. Xie Lian turns and beams at him, looking so happy that Wuming wants to cry. His Highness is so beautiful, the most wonderful person in all the realms.
“Here we are. My husband is waiting,” Xie Lian says and pushes Wuming inside, following suit.
Inside the dais, time seems to stand still.
Wuming can barely hear anything from the other side of the curtain despite it being nothing but a thin, silky thing, hanging luxuriously from the horizontal pillar that separates the dais from the gambling hall. A sound barrier, maybe?
He stands there, frozen, aware of a presence before them but yet unable to see anything. Xie Lian steps closer and nuzzles his shoulder, and Wuming’s soul almost flies away on spot.
A deep, dark chuckle rings in the air and slowly the darkness dissipates, revealing the powerful ghost sitting on a huge sturdy chair overlooking the whole gambling hall. Amidst the swirling evil ghost qi, one dark eye stares directly into Wuming’s soul as he takes in the sight, the wild, long, inky black hair, the black eyepatch, the smirk on those lips, the red robes, those butterfly-themed accessories, that sword with an eye that is almost like—
Wuming shudders.
The eye on the hilt of the sword looks familiar because it is what Wuming sees when he looks into a mirror without his mask, without those bandages he used to wear when he was still stupid and alive.
Xie Lian leans in and tugs at his ponytail to reveal his neck, kissing it softly. It is nothing but a small brush of his lips against Wuming’s cool skin, but his whole body trembles from shame and excitement alike as he locks eyes with the formidable ghost before him. There is something so familiar about him and yet not. Something about his aura, the energy inside him. Wuming can almost feel a mirroring thrum inside his own body, only much weaker.
“Gege,” the ghost says, amused.
Wuming stares at him, appalled. Has he no manners? Gege? Gege? He is calling His Highness gege?? The audacity!
“Yes, San Lang?” Xie Lian steps away from Wuming and turns his attention on the Ghost King—San Lang? What an anticlimactic name for a Ghost King, Wuming thinks, frowning. Yet, he cannot ignore the way the sound of it tickles a distant memory inside him, too.
“Does he know already?”
Xie Lian laughs and perches himself to sit on the Ghost King’s lap like it is the most natural thing to do or place to be. Wuming stares. This is… highly improper!
“I don’t think so,” his god laughs and his eyes crinkle around the corners. He looks happy, and Wuming feels a piercing sensation of jealousy in his chest. For once, he wants to be the one to make Xie Lian happy, too.
The Ghost King nods. “Why don’t you break the news to him, gege?”
“Hm,” Xie Lian hums and looks at Wuming, a soft look on his face. “Wuming. Meet my husband Hua Cheng. He’s, ahem, you. Only 800 years later.”
“Ah?!” Wuming staggers, swaying on his foot, absolutely dumbstruck as he takes on the impact of the words. This dangerous ghost oozing with power is—him? In the future? A missing part of his souls or something?
But that means that…
“Your Highness,” Wuming croaks, face paling even more. “You are married to me?”
“Ah,” Xie Lian laughs mirthfully, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. “It’s a long story, but… essentially yes. I am married to you. Or him. Or both of you.” He turns red with the words and Wuming’s poor heart actually tries to start beating from the shock.
Hua Cheng laughs, too, but there is a clear raw undertone of danger lurking behind the sound. “Little ghostling, how does it feel to know that you got what you so dearly wanted, your very beloved as your husband?” His tone shifts, although the grin is still there. “Why don’t you kneel before your husband?”
Wuming does not need to be told twice. He falls on his knees, eyes cast downwards, too shocked to speak.
“Silly,” Xie Lian whispers and stands up, walking back to him to stroke his hair.
Wuming tries to ignore the huff from Hua Cheng but fails monumentally, ending up feeling rather awkward. “Why am I here?” he asks, voice cracking. He cannot fathom any reason why he would have been called forward to meet His Highness with his husband—the him in the future.
Although Hua Cheng seems very little like him. He is so much stronger, more powerful, incessantly more beautiful, too. Without his mask, Wuming only feels ugly, his sick red eye blazing in the lantern light like a curse.
“I wanted to see you,” Xie Lian says softly, his hand still entangled in Wuming’s ponytail, tugging and making a mess of it. “To properly thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
“It was my honor,” Wuming mutters, unable to look, unable to even exist.
Xie Lian chuckles, the sound fond. “Really. I wouldn’t be here without you. Thank you.”
“And,” Hua Cheng says, interrupting them with his deep and intimidating voice, a fraction of mirth bleeding into it, “as a reward you get to spend the day with us. Isn’t it grand? Now, ghostling, what do we say to His Highness for being so good to us?”
“Thank you,” Wuming says quietly, voice wavering.
“Ahaha,” Xie Lian laughs, embarrassed and the hand in his hair is gone, just like that. Wuming craves the touch already. “No need, no need. San Lang! Give him some slack,” he admonishes and Hua Cheng chuckles.
“Alright, gege. I was just teasing.”
Xie Lian huffs and walks to where his husband is perched on his throne-like chair, leaning in to kiss him deeply, wet sounds ringing in the air. Wuming feels suffocated and yet, he cannot tear his gaze away, cannot ignore the way Xie Lian blushes, the way he scrunches his eyes closed as his mouth moves against Hua Cheng’s, lips soft and pink and wet.
Hua Cheng is the first to speak after a while. “Why don’t you make yourself useful, ghostling? Go guard the curtain.”
Wuming tears his gaze away, humiliated, and moves as if hypnotized. He makes a move to step out of the comfort of the dais, only for Hua Cheng to stop him immediately.
“No. Stay inside.”
It is an odd request, but what can Wuming do but obey? He musters up all his memories from his past life and stands straight and tall, guarding the entrance from the inside. It still does not make any sense to him. He is desperate to see what Xie Lian and his husband are doing but is too embarrassed to look.
Maybe half an incense time later an odd noise interrupts his erratic thoughts. It sounds almost like… a moan?
Wuming’s eyes shoot open and he swallows thickly. His tongue sticks to his palate and he clenches his fists, staring at the decadent silky curtain and the moving shadows on the other side, trying to figure out if it is just his brain that was playing with him.
But it happens again. A stuttering moan, slightly breathless, accompanied by a gasp and a low laugh.
Fuck. He must not turn around.
“Ah,” someone whines, accompanied by more wet noises and kissy sounds. It is Xie Lian, his beloved, of course it is. Who else can it be? Jealousy surges inside Wuming, hot and burning. How dare that powerful twat of a ghost king just… subject His Highness to all that? Make him moan like a common slut despite his cultivation method?
Feeling like he has just swallowed a bucketful of vinegar, Wuming cannot keep himself from not turning around, slowly, very slowly, and promptly stopping mid-turn and taking in the debauched sight in front of him: Xie Lian is perched on Hua Cheng’s lap, his robes and belts untied, pale flesh visible all the way to his waist. He is blushing, the pink of it spreading all the way to his chest were two dusky nipples are all perked up under Hua Cheng’s large hands that flick and twist and tweak them mercilessly, making Xie Lian gasp and moan and wiggle on his lap.
Wuming clenches his fists so hard he thinks he might break. Hua Cheng lifts his gaze and meets Wuming’s eyes just before he twists Xie Lian’s head and captures his lips, kissing him silly. Xie Lian mewls into it and Wuming makes a sound like an animal dying of thirst, throat dry with those waves of jealousy that crash upon the shores of his heart.
How dare they?
But behind all the shocked anger and stinging jealousy there is something else, too.Horrified, Wuming realizes he is getting hard, cock filling out as he stands before his god and his husband—the him of the future.
Eyes bulging, he looks down, witnessing a prominent tent in his pants that makes him want to simultaneously hump against Xie Lian’s leg like a dog in heat, or just disappear from the face of this earth altogether and forget any chance of reincarnation. He cannot decide which desire is stronger, he only knows that he is shaking with want so thick it threatens to drive him insane.
“Ah, San Lang,” Xie Lian whines into the messy wet kiss, his perfect body trembling on Hua Cheng’s lap, thighs trembling under the fabric of his pants.
“Gege, gege, patience,” Hua Cheng sighs and his hands start wandering again, untying the rest of his robes and pulling down his pants, revealing all of him for Wuming to feast his eyes on. He almost comes on spot just from the sight of His Highness’ glistening pink cock, pretty and jutting proudly from his crotch, begging to be worshipped.
“Nh,” Xie Lian whimpers, thrusting his hips into the air but finding absolutely no friction. Instead, Hua Cheng continues to play with his chest until his nipples are red and raw, until Xie Lian is groaning continuously, until his cock drips fluid like a fucking fountain.
San Lang, please, touch me,” he pleads with a hoarse voice that sends lazy arrows of desire all over Wuming’s body. “San Lang, please,” Xie Lian begs and oh fuck, are those tears?
Wuming is so angry. Angry and aroused and jealous. Why isn’t that twat Hua Cheng serving His Highness? He is just… bullying him!
“You—” he croaks, unable to hold in his astonishment and anger.
“Little ghostling,” Hua Cheng speaks, voice steady although slightly wrecked, his lips wet and swollen. “What do you think? Isn’t your gege absolutely stunning when he’s pink and hard and begging?”
Then he laughs and wraps his large hand around that softly leaking cock, smearing the wetness around the tip all over Xie Lian’s shaft. Xie Lian cries out and Wuming fumes from anger, from pent-up frustration and lust. His feet are frozen to the floor as he stares, utterly unable to look away as Hua Cheng slowly moves his hand up and down Xie Lian’s hard dick, too slow to really give him any relief.
Xie Lian sobs and bucks into his wrist, but Hua Cheng is merciless, playing with his cock like it is a toy. Panting, Xie Lian opens his eyes to stare at Wuming blearily, beautiful golden eyes hazy with want. “Wuming,” he slurs, back arching as Hua Cheng suddenly pulls his foreskin back and thumbs his slit. “San Lang,” he whines, then, voice cracking. “I want to come.”
Hua Cheng hums and speeds up the movements of his wrist. On his lap, Xie Lian writhes pitifully, moaning as his cock turns even redder and twitches. “San Lang, San Lang!”
It is then when Wuming realizes he is about to come. He looks at his beloved in the throes of pleasure and cannot help it; he starts palming his own cock, desperate for any kind of relief. He is still so angry, absolutely livid, at that obnoxious ghost king for bullying his beloved—Wuming’s beloved, for fuck’s sake!—like that, but he can no longer ignore the insistent throbbing of his own cock.
He pants, hips thrusting against his palm, watching as Xie Lian throws back his head and squeaks, absolutely ready to come—
—only for Hua Cheng to grasp the base of his cock mere seconds before his climax, staving it off and leaving Xie Lian screaming and spasming, body shuddering from the shock of being denied.
Wuming’s mind blanks out.
Fuck. Fuck.
Because even though Xie Lian does not come, Wuming does, Xie Lian’s scream going directly from his ears to his dick. There is nothing he can do before his orgasm washes over him and he comes in his pants, clumsily rubbing his hardness to the sight of the naked and debauched Xie Lian mercilessly tormented by his husband.
He slowly comes back to reality, arousal turning into shame. Lifting his gaze, he meets Hua Cheng’s amused eye. Xie Lian is still there, slowly breathing through his ruined orgasm, cock still angry red and begging to be touched.
Not giving his beloved any rest, Hua Cheng moves his hands to Xie Lian trembling milky thighs, grabbing and kneading the flesh. Wuming looks how his nails, painted black with cinnabar, dig into the meat of Xie Lian’s thighs, just enough to make Wuming drool like a rabid dog in rut.
Those large hands touch him here, caress him there, completely ignoring Xie Lian’s hardness. “San Lang, hnh.” Xie Lian lets out small mewls and gasps, a sheen of sweat covering his body. “I need to come”
He is gorgeous, the most beautiful thing Wuming has ever seen. He wants him so, so much.
Xie Lian nuzzles Hua Cheng’s cheek, nipping his flesh. But his husband is having none of that apparently, his hands touching everywhere but there, leaving Xie Lian unsated and crying.
Despite the shameful wet patch in his pants, Wuming’s anger boils over. “Why are you bullying His Highness?” he croaks, voice raspy from that messy miasma of emotions that is currently locked inside his throat. “Why won’t you give him what he wants? He is my god—our god!”
“Wuming, ah, Wuming,” Xie Lian sighs, desperately grinding against nothing, leaking and wet.
Hua Cheng merely raises an eyebrow, as if he is not at all affected by this little scene. “Hm? Little ghostling seems to have complaints on how this husband treats his precious wife. Why don’t you crawl over and take care of him yourself?”
“Who are you calling your wife?” Wuming puffs but he cannot ignore the way Xie Lian’s cock twitches at the claim, a tiny spurt of pearly liquid oozing from the tip.
He blinks. What?
“Well?” Hua Cheng drawls, pleased. “We haven’t got the whole day. Gege, this one is bound to think that little ghostling isn’t so interested after all.” He pouts. It is outrageous.
Wuming takes a few steps forward but Hua Cheng stops him immediately. “Hm. On your knees, no?”
Wuming almost chokes on his spit. But one heated look from Xie Lian sends him falling onto his knees, crawling until he is right in front of Xie Lian’s bared legs. He keeps his gaze down because if he was to lift it, he would immediately be faced with the sight of Xie Lian’s cute cock.
He is not sure if he can handle it, hardening in his messy pants already just from the thought. Definitely eyes on the ground. Except—
“Wuming,” Xie Lian calls softly, lifting his leg and rubbing the skin of his face with his soft calf. Wuming shudders at the sensation.
His Highness is touching him.
Him.
A grateful sob breaks loose from his lips, turning into a whine when Xie Lian uses his leg to trace the curves of his clothed body, poking and prodding and caressing, finally bringing the pad of his foot to rest against Wuming’s lips like a delicious milk candy. Star-struck, Wuming sucks Xie Lian’s big toe into his mouth, licking and sucking on the soft digit with his tongue and enjoying the gasps that Xie Lian makes under his touch. He feels immensely powerful.
Biting into the fleshy bits of his god’s pretty toe makes Xie Lian cry out softly and Wumnig twitch in his pants. He is hard again, cock persistently rubbing against his soiled pants, oversensitive and leaking.
“Such devotion,” Hua Cheng sighs and reaches out to grab Wuming’s chin from behind Xie Lian, the toe falling out of his mouth. “You had complaints, no? Why don’t you show His Highness exactly how much you adore him?”
“I—” Wuming stammers, eyes darting everywhere except for Hua Cheng is directing his attention, that dripping hardness in front of his face, begging to be loved.
Hua Cheng releases his face and tweaks Xie Lian’s nipple, making him cry out softly from sizzling pain and pleasure. Wumnig stares, stares so hard, desperately trying to grasp the last vestiges of his sanity before it floats away together with his soul.
He is actually allowed this? This is not a joke after all?
A full-body shudder runs through him and, with a final caress of his lips on the soft skin of Xie Lian’s ankle, a light touch of his tongue against the delicate bump of bone, he shuffles closer. Gripping Xie Lian’s thighs, he finally lets his eyes rake the length of his god’s cock, so fucking pretty and mouth-watering.
“Hnh,” Wuming says unintelligibly, fingers digging into the meat of Xie Lian’s thighs, probably leaving bruises.
“Go on,” Hua Cheng encourages, and there is something soft in his deadly eye despite the sharpness of his tone. “Have a taste. Please him.”
Xie Lian sighs and brings his hands closer, pulling his hair, and that is the only encouragement Wuming needs. He puckers his lips and kisses the tip of that precious flushed cock before his tongue darts out to taste the salty liquid oozing from the tip. Xie Lian jolts and huffs a pleasured gasp, encouraging Wuming to continue.
He carefully lets his mouth fall open wide and sucks in the whole thick head. His eyes flutter shot and he rasps something unintelligible around the silky thickness, the hum of it reverberating against the sensitive head.
Xie Lian whines and bucks his hips forcefully. “Ah, Wuming.” His thighs tremble under Wuming’s hands.
Wuming’s brain blanks out for a moment at the sound of his name, whined like that. He slowly rubs his tongue against the underside of Xie Lian’s cock, feeling the veins and the texture, relishing the taste before slowly taking it deeper until the bulbous cockhead hits his throat, making him choke and sputter.
Humiliated, he pulls away, only to suck Xie Lian back inside immediately, this time letting his god fuck his cock down his throat. This time he does not gag and the feel of Xie Lian nesting inside his mouth and throat feels glorious.
Wuming feels like soaring the sky.
Holding on to Xie Lian’s thighs, curiously rubbing and fondling his balls every once in a while, Wuming finds a comfortable rhythm between sucking and licking and deepthroating, spurred on by the delectable whimpers and gasps Xie Lian keeps making. He is so incredibly greedy for Xie Lian, ready to do anything he is allowed.
Wuming vaguely registers Xie Lian lifting his hips before his cock sinks impossibly deep into his throat. Wuming opens his eyes and watches with wide eyes as Hua Cheng slowly brings a slicked up finger to Xie Lian’s hole, rubbing the area between his cheeks before pushing it inside without any words.
“Oh,” Xie Lian croaks, tugging at Wuming’s hair tighter, wrapping his ponytail around his wrist until it hurts so good. “Oh, oh.”
He sounds delirious as Hua Cheng slowly fucks him with one finger while his cock pushes repeatedly into Wuming’s wet mouth, slick with Wuming’s spit. Wuming has never seen anything as captivating as Xie Lian shattering before his very eyes.
He always thought he only wanted to worship Xie Lian. He knows better now, understands that like Hua Cheng, Wuming wants to ruin him.
And so he doubles his efforts just as Hua Cheng adds a second finger. Xie Lian whimpers, alternating between fucking himself on those thick, long nimble fingers and pushing his cock into Wuming’s mouth. Wuming has to grab the base of his own cock to prevent himself coming untouched for the second time in a row because he is so aroused.
Hua Cheng adds one more finger and after a while, Xie Lian starts shaking. Wuming instinctively knows he is coming but this time it is him who stops it, squeezing Xie Lian’s cock until his god screams from frustration, being denied his orgasm for the second time while Hua Cheng ruthlessly keeps fingering him, accompanied by squelching sounds.
Fucking gods. Xie Lian looks so incredibly wronged, face flushed and sullen, eyes angry. It sets something dark aflame in Wuming.
Hua Cheng laughs, loud and delighted, and nudges his clothed arousal against Xie Lian’s ass. “Good boy,” he murmurs and Wuming is not sure whether he is addressing him or his god. Maybe it is irrelevant because Wuming feels like a good boy regardless.
“Why don’t we move? Ghostling,” Hua Cheng says, fingers still lazily twisting inside Xie Lian, making the god twitch on his lap.
“Hn,” Wuming rasps. His throat burns from being fucked so hard, so deep. He wants the feeling to last forever.
“There. Sit down on the floor and lean against the wall.”
Wuming scrambles up and moves as if in a trance. As he ambles on, he can make out the sounds of the gambling ghosts on the other side of the curtain, momentarily aware of the fact that they are, indeed, semi-public.
He immediately lets the realization pass. Irrelevant, all of that.
Sinking down against the wall as he was told to do, the next thing he knows is that both Xie Lian and Hua Cheng have stripped themselves completely naked and are in the middle of sucking each other’s brains out through their mouths, lips slotted hungrily together. Xie Lian is flushed and beautiful, absolutely divine, but Wuming takes a moment to admire Hua Cheng instead—those powerful legs, muscular build, broad shoulder and slender waist. That beautiful, otherworldly face that is not him, yet is.
Truly, a transformation of an underdeveloped butterfly into the most captivating of them all. Wuming is both jealous and proud.
Xie Lian moans as Hua Cheng gropes his ass possessively, leading him where Wuming is silently waiting, eyes on the two of them. He wants to kiss Xie Lian like that, too. He wants it so much: to claim him, ruin him, make a mess out of him. His eyes burn with tears as he frantically palms his cock, desire flowing in his veins. He wants, wants, wants.
Finally Xie Lian and Hua Cheng manage to stumble to where Wuming is waiting, their lips swollen and puffy. Xie Lian disentangles himself from Hua Cheng and his wandering hands, crouching down and smiling at Wuming before meeting his lips in a kiss that is as heated as it is lovely. Wuming moves his lips clumsily, never having been kissed before, while Xie Lian is clearly experienced, sighing and mewling as their mouths entangle.
Prodding the seam of his lips with his tongue, Xie Lian licks into his mouth. Wuming groans pitifully, his world narrowing down to the touch of their tongues dancing together. He pulls Xie Lian closer, arms wrapping around his shoulders and holding tight. Their teeth clank a few times and there is drool but the kiss is everything he has everything, so very perfect. His skin tingles all over from the feel of it.
Above them, Hua Cheng tuts. “So easily carried away, gege,” he says, half-annoyed, half-amused. “Our little cockslut.”
Xie Lian releases a breathy moan into Wuming’s mouth before pulling away and getting up. Don’t go, Wuming wants to scream but before the words are out, Xie Lian’s cock is right there again, poking at his lips.
Stunned, Wuming stares at the already familiar sight, mouth watering as if he has been conditioned.
Xie Lian braces himself against the wall, his head falling between his shoulders and his hair a wild mess around him. Wuming does not waste any time, instead sucking his cock inside his mouth again, reveling in the silky feel of it inside his mouth, against his tongue, Xie Lian’s intoxicating scent filling in all his senses. Xie Lian’s eyes roll back in his head and a shudder runs through him. His skin explodes in gooseflesh.
“So good for me,” Hua Cheng praises heatedly and Xie Lian slumps even further, goes supple and pliant and shuddering, waiting eagerly with his cock lodged inside Wuming’s mouth, keeping him all plugged up.
Hua Cheng steps closer and snakes an arm around Xie Lian’s waist while grabbing his own cock—big and fat and slick with oil—with another, rubbing it against Xie Lian’s stretched hole. Wuming knows the moment Hua Cheng nudges that turgid flesh inside his beloved because Xie Lian half-gasps, half-screams, a garble on nonsense escaping his lips and body breaking out in sweat. Xie Lian’s cock disappears deeper into Wuming’s mouth until he gags, tears streaming down his face.
“Ah, ah, ah!” The sounds Xie Lian makes as Hua Cheng mercilessly bullies his cock inside that tightness are the sweetest Wuming has ever heard. The way his god abuses his throat makes him shake and shiver. He loves it, being used like this as Hua Cheng starts fucking Xie Lian like a beast, hard and powerful, every thrust striking gold and making Xie Lian’s cock disappear even deeper into Wuming’s mouth.
Fumbling with his hands, Wuming eventually grabs Xie Lian’s ass for purchase, embracing him and spreading his cheeks further to give Hua Cheng even better access. In turn, Hua Cheng seizes the back of his head with one strong hand, forcing him to keep still as Xie Lian fucks his mouth in tune with Hua Cheng’s thrusts.
Wuming’s whole existence narrows down to this: Xie Lian wedged between them, being fucked out of his mind while his gorgeous cock is in Wuming’s mouth. Hua Cheng’s grunts and huffs ringing in the air, mixing with Xie Lian’s lewd moans begging for please more, deeper, harder, yes!
It is all too much. Wuming might come any moment now even though he is the only one still dressed. As if reading his mind, Xie Lian slowly lifts his leg and twists his body minutely. The new angle allows Hua Cheng to thrust deeper and hit something inside that makes him scream weakly just as he starts rubbing Wuming’s rock-hard clothed cock with the ball of his feet.
“San Lang, San Lang,” Xie Lian pants, looking wrecked and ruined and beautiful. “Let me come, please, gege.”
Hua Cheng growls and grabs Xie Lian’s hips, fucking into him and aiming for that special spot with deadly precision. As Xie Lian spirals down the path to his first orgasm, Wuming can do nothing but take it. His god comes with a ragged yell, releasing a spurt after another of sticky come down Wuming’s throat.
It tastes so good, Wuming wants more.
Hua Cheng shouts, too, low and strained, as his hips snap forward and he comes inside Xie Lian’s hole.
Wuming, too, wants to come so fucking badly.
He sobs, body drawn taut as a wire, every touch of his clothes a torment against his sensitive skin. He has never been harder, ready to burst and fuck, he wants nothing more than to bury his cock deep inside Xie Lian and raw him, fuck him, come all over and inside him until Xie Lian is both covered and dripping with his seed, truly nothing but a mess.
And yet, here he is, unsated and feeling the most bullied of them all.
Groaning, he watches as Hua Cheng pulls out and a thick trail of come instantly gushes out. Mesmerized by the way it trickles down Xie Lian’s thighs, Wuming can’t help but gather it between his fingers and stuff it back inside that puffy hole, cock throbbing and twitching in his pants as he moves.
Xie Lian whimpers, over-sensitive, a small “Wuming,” falling from his lips like a heady drug.
Hua Cheng has the guts to look immensely pleased as he saunters to his discarded robes and digs out a pair of dice. Then he returns, takes Wuming’s hand in his and embraces Xie Lian with another, tossing the dice in the air. And just like that, they are back at the room where Wuming woke up earlier this day when he had absolutely no idea where he was or how much time had passed.
“Oh, Wuming,” Xie Lian sighs and nuzzles closer as they fall into the sheets as a pile of entangled limbs. “You’re still hard.”
“Your Highness,” Wuming croaks, humping against Xie Lian’s torso unsteadily, on the edge and desperate for touch. “Can I undress?”
“Of course,” Xie Lian nods, still flushed and sweaty from his orgasm. So fucking beautiful, Wuming things, shucking off his robes and pants, finally releasing his cock from the confines of his soaked pants. It is not as big as Hua Cheng’s but he still considers it formidable.
Xie Lian’s eyes widen and he unconsciously smacks his lips. Wuming’s cock drools and he reaches for it to finally get himself off.
“A-ha. No touching,” growls Hua Cheng.
That unbelievable fucking bully!
Wuming glares at him, annoyed and cock weeping pitifully, begging to be touched.
Hua Cheng flashes him a grin before accosting Xie Lian on his hands and knees, spreading his cheeks and kissing his pink hole, licking away the residual milky come. “Gege,” he almost whines and Wuming’s eyes glaze over. Hua Cheng is him, after all. “Look at you, still so tight even though I fucked you so good. How is this possible? Ghostling, why don’t you take a look?”
Xie Lian yelps as he is manhandled but Wuming catches a glimpse of his cock hardening again, now hanging heavy between his legs. He clumsily shuffles to where Hua Cheng is and almost comes on spot from the sight that meets him: Xie Lian’s pink and puffy hole, hungry and fluttering lightly, begging to be filled even more although droplets of Hua Cheng’s come are still oozing out.
“Why don’t you try,” Hua Cheng notes nonchalantly, hands still on Xie Lian’s cheeks. Wuming leans down in an absolute daze, tongue darting out to finally lick the puckered skin, tasting sweat and come and all that is Xie Lian, his beloved.
“Nnh! Wuhmin—” Xie Lian slurs.
Encouraged, Wuming delves deeper, placing a direct kiss on his hole before licking around the rim, tentatively pushing his tongue inside. It goes easily, all of it, there is absolutely no resistance.
“Fuck,” Hua Cheng groans and starts stroking himself to hardness again. “Here I thought gege was still tight, but look at you, so sloppy after all.”
He slaps Xie Lian’s ass and it jiggles against Wuming’s face. That is all it takes for Wuming to come again, pitifully untouched, moaning into Xie Lian’s hole as his cock spurts come all over the sheets and the back of Xie Lian’s thighs.
He pulls away, panting raggedly, feeling obliterated in a way that feels nothing like death.
“Ah, ah,” Hua Cheng grins and there is something wicked and feral in his voice. “Who gave you the permission to come? Seems like you don’t want to fuck His Highness at all.”
Wuming freezes.
Indeed, both Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are hard again, cocks weeping, while Wuming sits there in a daze, cock limp and filthy, his post-orgasm haze turning into embarrassed silence.
“No matter,” Hua Cheng says nonchalantly. “Lie down, ghostling. Gege,” he smacks his ass again, once, twice, just so that is quivers enticingly, “you know what to do.”
Xie Lian sighs, slowly turning around and pushing Wuming into the sheets, kissing him sweetly before turning around and straddling Wuming’s chest.
Then he reaches out to lick at his spent cock.
For a moment Wuming feels humiliated, ashamed beyond belief. But he is distracted by Xie Lian, rubbing his weeping cock against Wuming’s chest and torturing his nipples with it, smearing precome all over them. Tiny pleasured moans escape Xie Lian’s lips as he places small kitten licks all over Wuming’s dick.
Wuming knows what to do. Nipples hard and peaking, he takes Xie Lian into his hand and pulls him gently towards his mouth, taking him inside.
Hua Cheng moves closer. “Ghosts who come before getting a permission don’t get to fuck their gods,” he announces blithely, positioning himself behind Xie Lian and pushing inside with one powerful thrust. Above him, Wuming sees Xie Lian’s belly bulge with Hua Cheng buried inside.
His cock fills out immediately, both from the sight and Xie Lian’s mouth.
“Wuming,” Xie Lian moans, his mouth full. “So good.”
“Yeah?” Wuming mumbles around the silky length in his mouth, eyes crossing from pleasure.
“Yeah. Yeah,” Xie Lian gasps. “More. More.”
He has never felt so good, his cock in Xie Lian’s mouth and Xie Lian’s in his, while Hua Cheng fucks his beloved, slow and deep and adoring.
“What a cute little slut you are,” Hua Cheng pants, hips meeting Xie Lian’s ass with a noisy slap. “Bet you can take both of us.”
“Ahh,” Xie Lian gasps.
Wuming’s whole body trembles. Surely they cannot mean…?
But they sure do.
It happens so quick he does not even know what is happening. Suddenly Xie Lian is straddling him, grabbing his cock and positioning himself above it before promptly sinking down and impaling himself on Wuming’s thick length. It punches all the air out of his lungs and it is a good thing he does not really need to breathe.
Instead he screams, overcome with pleasure. “Fuck!”
Xie Lian’s walls hug him like a sleeve and he thinks he is going to combust. He has never felt so good, this is immensely better that having Xie Lian fuck his mouth, than having Xie Lian blow him. Wuming is going mad.
Desperately trying to stay still, his hips make small aborted movements as he nudges his cock deeper, feeds it into Xie Lian the way he never though he would be allowed to. Xie Lian slumps against his chest, panting hard and sweating profusely, looking every inch like a god.
So fucking beautiful. Wuming wants to fuck him and die for him and fuck him again.
Hua Cheng scampers forward and takes his place behind Xie Lian, looming over them both. With a smirk on his face, he traces the skin of Xie Lian’s abused hole from where it is stretched wide around Wuming’s girth. Then he spits on it and laughs, pushing one finger inside as if to tease.
Xie Lian jolts and Wuming sobs, desperate to move.
“Patience,” says Hua Cheng but the way he moves tells that he has finally ran out of it. Without any preamble, he bullies his cock inside Xie Lian’s hole to rest alongside Wuming’s.
Xie Lian shouts and trembles and drools, his body shaking like a leaf as he struggles to accommodate both of their massive lengths. “It’s too much,” he whines, tears leaking out from his eyes.
So beautiful, Wuming thinks and snaps his hips upwards, burying himself a tad bit deeper into that tight heat. Hua Cheng, too, pulls out and fucks back inside. Every movement rubs their dicks together where they are lodged tightly inside Xie Lian, their god wedged between them and rendered immobile.
Wuming hugs him tightly, pulls his flush against his body as they find a good rhythm with Hua Cheng, cocks plunging in and out of Xie Lian, one after another. It feels amazing. Absolutely mind-boggling. He is out of his mind with ecstasy as Xie Lian’s greedy hole milks him, milks them both. His belly cramps and his whole body tingles, his orgasm approaching faster than he thought possible.
“Inside, come inside, fill me up please,” Xie Lian huffs, face red and begging from where he is drooling against Wuming’s chest, biting at his nipples.
Well. Who is he to say no to that?
With one final twitch of his hips he comes, moaning as his hips buck wildly. Xie Lian clenches around them both while Hua Cheng still keeps fucking their god, rubbing their cocks together inside him and teasing his sweet spot until Xie Lian, too, explodes all over Wuming’s belly, groaning into a mouthful of Wuming’s chest.
Hua Cheng laughs, pulls out, and proceeds to finish all over Xie Lian’s ass, painting him filthy. Come leaks out of Xie Lian’s hole and he is covered in it, just the way Wuming wanted.
He smiles, feeling both blessed and blissed out in their heap of sweaty bodies.
Xie Lian twists his head to kiss him deeply, and he is so preoccupied that he does not feel it first, that dizziness that engulfs him. He opens his eyes blearily and sees Hua Cheng watching them fondly for some unknown reason.
Xie Lian captures his lips and entangles their fingers together. “I love you,” he whispers.
Wuming closes his eyes, feeling light and transparent. His heart rejoices. “I love you too, Your Highness.”
Xie Lian nods, a gentle, sated smile on his lips. “Do you think you’ll be able to rest in peace now?”
Looking at Hua Cheng—himself—Wuming hums, a small smile lingering on his lips. He is already fading away, he can feel it. “Yes,” he says and this time he means it. Against all odds, he managed to create a life with his beloved, was allowed a chance to make him happy. After all, what is Wuming but a fragment of Hua Cheng’s soul?
Hua Cheng reaches out to caress his bangs just before he disappears completely. “Sleep, little me,” he whispers and everything turns black.
Wuming, naked and unmasked, knows he is smiling when it all ends.
Xie Lian and Hua Cheng do not leave their bed for a long while. Humming a soft tune, Xie Lian draws absent-minded patterns on Hua Cheng’s skin, invisible tattoos that mark him as Xie Lian’s
Hua Cheng laughs softly, eyes closed, tangling his hand in Xie Lian’s hair. A butterfly appears and kisses his nose, and Xie Lian sneezes.
“San Lang,” he huffs.
“Hmm,” Hua Cheng replies, amused. Sighing, his face turns wistful. “Is gege going to miss him?”
Snuggling closer, Xie Lian kisses his cheek and places a hand over his heart. “How could I? He’s right here, is ne not? All the time.”
Hua Cheng is silent for a while but finally cracks a smile. “En. All the time.”
They fall asleep together, Xie Lian and all the precious parts of his San Lang.