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Chapter Text

As Jingyi drifts towards wakefulness, he’s full of the sort of deep comfort that only exists in the first moments of waking from a deep sleep.  

He’s melted into the soft mattress and the reassuring, solid warmth of Sizhui’s body pressed against his.  For a moment, he thinks he’s in the Cloud Recesses, back in the disciple dorms and this whole thing has been a nightmare and Sizhui has come over to comfort him. 

He opens his eyes and no, he’s not in the disciple dorms.  He looks up to find Sizhui looking down at him with soft brown eyes.   His long hair is down and spilling like black silk down his back and over his shoulder.  He looks rumpled and sleepy and beautiful, and Jingyi feels a grin spreading across his face.  

This is better than the disciple dorms by far; Sizhui is here right by his side, with the soft sort of smile that no one else could ever match. 

“Good morning,” Sizhui says, and his voice is quiet and sweet.

“Morning,” Jingyi replies.  Then groans, because even with Sizhui right here next to him, it’s still too early.  “It’s 5 am, isn’t it?” 

“You know that it is,” Sizhui says with a smile.  Even though he looks tired, he also looks entirely too cheerful and too awake for this time of day.

Jingyi covers his face with one hand.  “It’s too early.  Can’t we go back to sleep?”

The words are comfortingly familiar.  He’s asked them many times, and Sizhui’s answer is always the same. 

“I should get up,” Sizhui says.  Jingyi notices that he’s changed ‘we’ for ‘I’.

Jingyi lowers his hand and glances at Sizhui.  He still has shadows under his eyes, and he still seems too pale and worn.

“No,” Jingyi says, “you should rest.”

“I am-“ Sizhui starts.

“Tired,” Jingyi speaks over him.   They both know he was going to say fine .  And obviously, by Sizhui’s own definition, he thinks he’s fine, but he’s injured, in pain, tired, and running low on spiritual energy.  And as far as Jingyi is concerned, none of those things is fine.  Sizhui blinks at him, clearly surprised that Jingyi had actually interrupted him.  Jingyi reaches out, cradling Sizhui’s face, and traces the shadows under Sizhui’s eyes with his thumb.  “You look tired.  You can hide it from other people, but not from me.”

Sizhui looks back at him with the almost surprised expression he gets whenever Jingyi sees straight through his pretenses.  Jingyi knows that people almost never notice anything beyond Sizhui’s exquisite manners and polite smile, but really he should have realized by now that Jingyi knows him better than this.

Sizhui lets out an exhale that’s not quite a sigh and flops face-first into the pillow, apparently capitulating.  Jingyi can’t help the amused huff at Sizhui’s tiny display of dramatics.  Jingyi shifts closer to Sizhui and is rewarded when Sizhui removes his face from the pillow and moves close enough to put his head on Jingyi’s shoulder.

He’d done this last night, too, and it’s nice to have Sizhui tucked against him.  Jingyi hopes he makes a habit of it.

“Rest,” Jingyi says because Sizhui still has his eyes open and doesn’t seem inclined to actually rest. 

Sizhui sighs, as if getting an extra few hours of sleep is a chore, and closes his eyes.  Jingyi can feel him take a few even breaths and his body relaxes.  Jingyi allows his own eyes to close, and it’s easy to fall back into a light sleep.

Movement and the lack of warmth from Sizhui’s body wakes him again.  Jingyi opens his eyes and glances at his partner, who is carefully pushing himself up. 

“Getting up?” Jingyi asks, even though it’s fairly obviously his plan.

“Mn.  I didn’t mean to wake you again,” Sizhui says, and he actually looks genuinely sorry.

“’s alright,” Jingyi rolls over so he can actually look at Sizhui.  He has no idea how long it’s been since 5 am, but not very long judging by the light coming through the windows. “I thought you were going to rest?”

“I did, but now I am awake.”  Jingyi nods. Sizhui has never slept long past 5 am; too many years of Gusu Lan schedule no doubt. 

Jingyi watches as Sizhui carefully pushes himself up into a sitting position and shuffles to the edge of the bed.  The movements lack any of his usual grace, and it’s obvious that he’s working around the injury on his back.  Jingyi’s stomach twists unhappily. 

“How are you?” Jingyi asks, eyes lingering on the stiff set of Sizhui’s shoulders.

Sizhui pauses, considering his answer.  Jingyi sits up, carefully watching Sizhui, who smiles at him.

“Good,” Sizhui says, slightly surprising Jingyi.  But the smile on his face is genuine and his warm brown eyes sparkle with happiness.  Jingyi can’t help but smile.  “And you?”

“Good.” Jingyi doesn’t even have to think, not when he woke up with Sizhui by his side and Sizhui is smiling like that.

“How’s your spiritual energy?” Jingyi asks.  Yesterday, when he’d checked Sizhui’s spiritual energy, he’d been horrified by how drained his golden core had been: only a flicker where the sun should be.  He’d offered as much spiritual energy as Sizhui would take, which wasn’t much, and a night’s sleep should’ve helped as well.  But Sizhui’s almost certainly still drained.

“Better than yesterday,” Sizhui says, and Jingyi sighs.  It’s the sort of answer Sizhui gives when he doesn’t want to lie and knows that the answer won’t be well received. 

“Sizhui…”

“It’s true!”  Sizhui protests.  It’s not the truth of his statement that Jingyi doubts. 

Asking Sizhui again won’t yield a better answer, not because Sizhui is being difficult, which he absolutely can be no matter what anyone else thinks, but because he always puts his own well-being below that of others.  Jingyi had given away how worried he was by Sizhui’s injury yesterday, which means Sizhui will now go out of his way to avoid worrying him again.  This isn’t the first time he’s taken care of Sizhui almost against his will and it likely won’t be the last.

“Do you have a plan for this morning?” Jingyi asks.  “The others won't be up for at least an hour.”  

“Not specifically, why?  Do you have one?”  Sizhui tilts his head, clearly curious.

“I might.”   

First, he needs to check Sizhui’s spiritual energy and convince him to let Jingyi help.

“Oh?”

“First,” Jingyi says, reaching out and taking Sizhui’s hand.  “Come here.”

His intention is to bring Sizhui to sit next to him, instead of hovering at the edge of the bed.  But a blush spreads across Sizhui’s face even as he lets Jingyi draw him closer.  It takes him a moment to figure out why.  He hadn’t considered that he was pulling Sizhui to him across a bed.  He hadn’t meant it that way, but now Sizhui’s embarrassed. 

“I’m not,” Jingyi says and loosens his grip on Sizhui’s arm.  He doesn’t want Sizhui to be uncomfortable with him, ever.  “You don’t have to.  I just... I wanted to check your spiritual energy.”

“Oh,” Sizhui’s response is small, and his gaze drops away from Jingyi’s.  His blush seems to be getting worse. That was the opposite reaction from what Jingyi had been hoping for.  Jingyi’s brain scrambles for a second, and then he realizes that Sizhui now feels bad for incorrectly guessing Jingyi’s intentions. 

“A-Yuan,” Jingyi says, not sighing, and reaching out to cradle Sizhui’s burning cheeks.  He’s so cute with the pink across his cheeks; it’s really not fair.  Sizhui looks up at him, bashfully.  Unfair.   

“I love you,” Jingyi says earnestly.  It feels good to finally be able to say it.  He leans in to kiss Sizhui, carefully watching his expression.  It’s weird for Jingyi to feel hesitant around Sizhui, but this whole thing is new, this bashful Sizhui is new, and Jingyi doesn’t want to misstep.  He brushes his lips to his forehead, the tip of his nose, and then his lips.  “But you worry too much.” 

Sizhui always worries too much, it’s part of what makes him Sizhui.  But for a long time, Jingyi has made sure he’s one of the things Sizhui doesn’t have to worry about.  It’s been years, a decade really, since he’s seen Sizhui anxious about their relationship.   It hurts, a bit, to see that Sizhui’s faith in him is shaken, but Jingyi knows it’s his fault; he’s the one who left Gusu after all, not Sizhui.  Still, Jingyi knows Sizhui, and this isn’t the first time he has dealt with his worries.

“Is it something specific?” Jingyi asks. “Or is it a bit of everything?”

It’s easier when it’s something specific.  Sizhui made a mistake on his guqin; he can practice the piece again.  He got a less than perfect grade on his previous night hunt report, Jingyi can check this one for him.  One of the disciples got up and walked away when Sizhui sat down at the table; Jingyi’d heard him say he’d forgotten his homework for their lecture.

But sometimes, Sizhui’s anxieties are nebulous and there's not much Jingyi can do to help him besides be there.    

“Mostly just worrying,” Sizhui says while looking down at his hands. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

Sizhui’s voice is small, and Jingyi’s heart aches.  Jingyi squeezes his hand, comforting him as best he can.  He waits in silence for a few moments to see if Sizhui will continue. 

“Mostly?” Jingyi repeats when Sizhui doesn’t say anything.

Sizhui lets out a long breath like he’s bracing himself.  Jingyi’s stomach twists unhappily.  He’s used to Sizhui being reticent about sharing his emotions but not like this.  

“A-Yuan,” Jingyi says.  He reaches out and tilts Sizhui’s chin up so he can actually see his face.  Sizhui looks back at him with wide eyes; he looks almost scared.  Jingyi feels cold in the pit of his stomach and jerks his hand back.  

“I’m sorry for pushing,” Jingyi says.  “I know you don’t like to talk about your feelings, and I made you uncomfortable.  I just… I don’t like things being awkward between us.  I thought we could tell each other anything.  But, I guess I messed that up.”

“No!” Sizhui says with surprising force.  He catches Jingyi’s hand and holds it tightly.  “I’m the one messing it up.  I’m scared of saying something and pushing you away.  And now I’m not saying something and doing it anyway.”

There’s an edge of something like panic in Sizhui’s eyes as he clings to Jingyi’s hand.  Jingyi wants to reassure him that he’s not going anywhere, but he knows better than to interrupt when Sizhui is finally talking about his emotions.  Jingyi might never get him started again.

So Jingyi tilts his head in question but doesn’t interrupt.  

“I’m worried because, well, a lot of things,” Sizhui says, speaking without his usual deliberate care.  The phrase usually would amuse Jingyi, but now he’s focused on what Sizhui’s so worried about and what he can do to fix it. 

“But, I remember,” Sizhui says slowly, “that you’ve never been interested.”  

“Interested?” Jingyi asks, confused.

“In kissing,” Sizhui clarifies, and his cheeks get a little pink.  “Or courting, or... or the rest of it.  At first, when the other disciples would talk about it all the time you didn’t join in, and then later you started to get annoyed.”

Oh.  Whatever Jingyi was expecting, it wasn’t this.  Besides, they’ve already kissed several times.  He thought he’d demonstrated his interest pretty clearly.  He’s also not sure what his lack of interest in female cultivators has to do with anything at all, but clearly, Sizhui thinks it’s relevant.  As far as he remembers, Sizhui had never joined in with the others either.  Part of Jingyi had always been waiting for him to do so.  Everyone else around them seemed to, but he never had.  

“And I thought it was just girls, but it’s not, because when Zizhen talks about boys, you have the same expression.  And when we were in Baling and Zizhen offered you some of his… literature…”

“His porn, you mean,” Jingyi says, clarifying.  

Sizhui’s cheeks are turning an adorable shade of pink again.  

“Yes, that’s what I meant,” Sizhui says, clearly flustered and apparently unwilling or unable to say the word porn.  “You weren’t interested, even though you wouldn’t get in trouble.”  

“You weren’t either,” Jingyi points out.

Sizhui’s whole face goes bright pink.  

“It’s against the rules,” he says, not looking Jingyi in the eye.  Interesting.  That’s definitely something to remember for later.

For now, Jingyi is still slotting together the puzzle pieces of Sizhui’s worries.  

“But you’ve never been interested,” Sizhui says, switching the topic back to Jingyi. “In boys or girls.  And that’s fine!  I don’t want to push you to do something you don’t want.  I don’t want to make you uncomfortable… or irritated.”

Sizhui pauses, and Jingyi finally understands what Sizhui’s been getting at.  

“And just now,” Sizhui says almost babbling, “You were- and I thought- but no.”

Jingyi can’t help but smile at the last bit and the face Sizhui makes when he hears the words come out of his mouth.  

But he’s considering Sizhui’s worries and his own response.  It’s true, as Sizhui said, that Jingyi has never had the faintest bit of interest in doing anything at all with any of the random people the other disciples or Zizhen talk about.  Jingyi doesn’t know them, why would he want to kiss them let alone sleep with them?  

But that same disinterest definitely does not apply to Sizhui, though Sizhui apparently, despite the evidence to the contrary, thinks it does.  Because Sizhui is not just another person; he’s Jingyi’s fated person.  But it’s more than that; he’s kind and generous and funny and just and a hundred other things. Jingyi has never met someone as good as Sizhui is and that makes him a million times more attractive than anyone else.  The fact that he’s beautiful, strong, graceful, and somehow both absolutely adorable and stupidly hot is an unfair bonus.

“You’re almost right,” Jingyi says slowly as he considers his response.

Something close to disappointment flashes across Sizhui’s face before he buries it.

“I’ve never been interested in anyone else,” Jingyi continues.  “Because it’s always been you.  If I am in love with you, why would I be interested in somebody else?”

For a moment, Sizhui’s gaze is entirely uncomprehending.  Though Jingyi is not exactly sure why.  But the confusion vanishes to be replaced by a hopeful expression.

“So,” Sizhui says, “you are interested? In me, I mean.”  

“Yes,” Jingyi says with a snort and a chuckle.  How could he not be?  “I am.”

Relief spreads across Sizhui’s face like a flood, and it’s almost hard for Jingyi to watch.  He doesn’t want Sizhui to ever doubt that he is wanted.  Jingyi feels a smile curling across his lips; there’s an easy way to remedy the misunderstanding.

“A-Yuan,” Jingyi says lightly, “did you already forget last night?”

Sizhui blinks and tilts his head.  “No?”  

Maybe Jingyi needs to jog his memory a bit.

“Don’t you remember?” Jingyi asks, teasing.  Sizhui’s eyes darken in a way that’s unfamiliar but sends a thrill through his system.  Copying what he’d done last night, Jingyi reaches out and grabs Sizhui by the hips.  

“I think I did this.” Careful of his injuries, Jingyi pulls Sizhui towards him.  Sizhui yields under his touch and reaches out to wrap his arms around Jingyi’s neck.  

“And this,” Jingyi says, voice rumbling in his chest as he slides a hand down to grip the supple curve of Sizhui’s ass.

The surprised squeak that comes out of Sizhui is entirely at odds with the intensity of his expression.

When Sizhui speaks, he’s slightly breathless, and the sound sends heat racing through Jingyi’s system  “No, I definitely did not forget.”

“Good,” Jingyi says and grins at Sizhui.

Sizhui leans in to kiss him, moving carefully to avoid jarring his back.  Jingyi surges forward to meet him, not wanting him to hurt himself.  He’s smiling when their lips meet.  Sizhui’s hold on him tightens as he deepens the kiss.  Jingyi relishes the way Sizhui leans into him almost instinctively.  Jingyi’s hands tighten, fingers pressing into Sizhui’s soft skin.  He wants to pull Sizhui towards him, to close any distance between them, and feel the heat of his body and the rise and fall of his chest, but he can’t forget the still healing wounds on Sizhui’s back.  One wrong move could hurt his partner, and he won’t do that.

Sizhui breaks the kiss, and Jingyi can feel the reluctance in his movements.  They’re both breathing hard, breaths mixing in the small space between them.  Sizhui’s looking down at him with something close to wonder, and Jingyi can’t quite believe it.

“This is real, right?” Sizhui says, echoing Jingyi’s own thoughts.  “I’m not dreaming?”

“I really hope not,” Jingyi says with a grin, “because then I’d be dreaming too.”

Joy spreads across Sizhui’s face, and his warm eyes dance with it as he smiles beatifically.  Laughter, bell-like, beautiful, a sound of pure happiness, spills from his lips.  He’s so beautiful that Jingyi can only stare.  His happiness is contagious, and Jingyi can’t help the grin on his face.

When the laughter subsides, Sizhui leans in to kiss Jingyi again, and Jingyi kisses him back enthusiastically.  Happiness unlike Jingyi has ever known fills him.  Sizhui is really here in his arms, kissing him.  Sizhui is his; Jingyi has never wanted anything more than this.

Sizhui’s hand brushes along the line of his jaw, down his throat, across his shoulder.  The touch is delicate, careful, exploratory.  Jingyi hums in encouragement. 

Reaching up with one hand to cradle Sizhui’s face, Jingyi urges him closer.  He can sense Sizhui’s spiritual energy if he focuses on it.  He can see the gentle glow of it in his mind's eye.  As Sizhui had said, it is better than yesterday.  But it’s still a river when it should be a flood.  

They part for an instant, ragged breaths mixing between them before Jingyi pulls Sizhui closer again.  When soft lips press against his, Jingyi lets his own spiritual energy pour out of him and into Sizhui, who gasps.

For a moment, Sizhui seems frozen, and Jingyi, worried that he’d overstepped, pulls back.  But before the worry can even fully form itself, Sizhui’s grip on him tightens, and he pulls him back for another kiss and another and another.  Jingyi can’t help the happy laughter that bubbles up between the kisses.  But he still lets his spiritual energy flow from him into Sizhui with every brush of their lips.

Eventually, the laughter calms, and they stop kissing.  Sizhui rests his head against Jingyi’s shoulder, relaxing against him.  It feels right in a way that Jingyi could never express.  His heart is in his throat, and he closes his eyes.  Resting his head against Sizhui’s, Jingyi gently strokes the soft silk of Sizhui’s hair. There’s silence as they relax, heartbeats and breaths calming.  Jingyi savors the moment.

“How are you?” Jingyi asks after a while.

“Great,” Sizhui says, he sounds incredibly content and almost dazed, and Jingyi can’t help but chuckle.  Gently, Jingyi reaches out, taking Sizhui’s wrist and checking his spiritual energy, content to find it improved.  

“Really,” Sizhui says, sitting up and smiling at Jingyi.  “I feel great.”

“Alright,” Jingyi says, pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist before releasing it.  He sighs, “I guess we better get up then.”

Sizhui nods in agreement.  Jingyi watches as Sizhui moves to the edge of the bed and stands up.  His motions are careful and controlled, but not tense with pain.  Once Sizhui is up, Jingyi slides across the bed and jumps up.  Sizhui moves to the small desk and sits before taking his comb out of his qiankun pouch.  Jingyi runs his fingers through his hair, untangling a few knots.

“I can feel you judging me,” Jingyi says as Sizhui starts to run his comb through his own hair.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies with an innocent expression.  With his doe eyes and soft features, Sizhui looks angelic, but Jingyi knows better.

“Lying is forbidden, A-Yuan,” Jingyi says, laughing.

Jingyi quickly puts his hair up, gathering it up and shaking his bangs free before tying it off.  As Sizhui continues to work the comb through his hair so he can put it up properly, Jingyi starts to get dressed.  He pulls on the dark blue robes and black belt that he’d bought in Caiyi town.

Jingyi looks up from securing his belt around his waist, and his eyes meet Sizhui’s.  A slow smile curls across his lips, and Sizhui’s cheeks turn pink, embarrassed at being caught staring.  Jingyi doesn’t mind it the least bit.  For a moment, Jingyi is tempted to tease Sizhui, but he’s clearly embarrassed, and Jingyi doesn’t want to upset him.

So instead, Jingyi turns back to the clothes and Sizhui’s forehead ribbon which he’d left neatly folded on his robes.  He trails one finger across the soft silk.  The sacredness of the forehead ribbon has been drilled into Jingyi’s head since his childhood.  Just the brush of his fingers against the ribbon fills him with awe and some anxiety.  Part of him feels like he’s going to be yelled at or punished, but he pushes it aside.

Jingyi picks up the ribbon and starts to unfold it.  Though it should feel the exact same as his own in his hands, it doesn’t.  He handles it carefully even though the ribbons are enchanted to be sturdy and nearly unbreakable.  It’s like holding a piece of someone’s heart.  This, more than anything, more than the kiss or Sizhui’s words, is a tangible declaration of Sizhui’s feelings, and it warms Jingyi through and through.  Exchanging forehead ribbons is the sort of thing you can’t undo or take back, and it's something Sizhui would never ever do hastily.  

He hears soft footsteps on the floor as Sizhui walks towards him.  Jingyi looks up to find Sizhui watching him with a gentle smile, and a responding smile spreads across his own face.

“Should I?” Jingyi has to ask, has to hear the answer.

“Please?” Sizhui says, he wraps his hands around Jingyi’s, not touching the ribbon, only urging him onward.  

“Turn around?” Jingyi asks. 

Sizhui turns, and Jingyi steps forward so that his chest is almost pressed to Sizhui’s back, but he’s careful not to touch the wounds. Jingyi loops his arms around Sizhui and leans so his head is over Sizhui’s shoulder.  

Using the motions that he’s used his whole life to tie his own ribbon, Jingyi finds the center of the ribbon and places it on Sizhui, avoiding Sizhui’s bangs with practiced ease. He pulls back to tie it under Sizhui’s ponytail even though he doesn’t have to look at what he’s doing after all these years.  After he ties the knot, he lets go, but his fingers trail down to the edge of the silk.  

Sizhui turns to look at him, and Jingyi’s gaze goes to the ribbon, checking that it is straight.  At the same time, Sizhui smooths it across his forehead, double-checking its position.  Then Sizhui turns his attention to Jingyi.  

There’s a wistful expression on Sizhui’s face, and he reaches out, tracing out the line where Jingyi’s forehead ribbon once sat until his hand reaches Jingyi’s hair. Then he gently pulls Jingyi’s head down and stands on his toes to kiss the center of his forehead.  

Jingyi straightens up again, looking down at Sizhui and the wistful expression still on his face, and Jingyi understands.  He remembers what Sizhui had said yesterday when he had first offered him his forehead ribbon: I’ve wanted it for a long time.   He doesn’t want to take this away from Sizhui.

“Does it bother you?” Jingyi asks, watching Sizhui’s expression carefully.  He never intended to wear the Gusu Lan forehead ribbon again, but for Sizhui he will, if only for a little while.

But when Sizhui speaks, he says, “No.”  His voice is slightly sad but not conflicted.  “At the end of the day, the ribbon is just a thing.  I have you, and that’s what matters.”

For a moment, Jingyi just stares at Sizhui, stunned.  I have you, and that’s what matters. Jingyi swallows to clear the lump in his throat.  There’s a hint of smugness to the smile on Sizhui’s face.

Still, whatever Sizhui says, the forehead ribbon will always be more than just a thing to anyone from Gusu Lan.  Impulsively, Jingyi turns and snags his own forehead ribbon from where Sizhui had left it.  He catches Sizhui’s hand and deftly loops the ribbon around his wrist before he can think too hard about what he’s doing.

“Jingyi!” Sizhui squeaks in surprise, clearly not expecting this sort of declaration.

“One should not tie their sacred forehead ribbon on someone who is not their fated person,” Jingyi recites, his heart is pounding.  Maybe this was a stupid idea.  “Is that what you were going to say?”

“Mn.”  The sound is more high pitched than usual, and an amused smile tugs at Jingyi’s lips.  Sizhui just watches with wide eyes as Jingyi finishes tying the ribbon.  

For a moment they stand in silence as Jingyi anxiously waits for Sizhui to respond.  Jingyi watches as Sizhui curls the fingers of his other hand protectively over the ribbon on his wrist, and Jingyi smiles slightly.  

Then Sizhui raises his hands to his own forehead ribbon, clearly intending to take it off, but Jingyi shakes his head.

“You can’t go walking around without it, leave it for now.”

Sizhui bites his lip, apparently not satisfied with that solution.  Jingyi tilts his head silently questioning, waiting for his response. Jingyi notices the exact moment that Sizhui’s expression shifts to determination.  The slight narrowing of his eyes, the set of his jaw, it’s an expression that Jingyi recognizes and knows that whatever Sizhui’s about to say, he’d have better luck arguing with a hurricane.

Determinedly, Sizhui reaches up and unties his own ribbon.

“Sizhui?” Jingyi asks when Sizhui reaches out and starts to tie it on Jingyi’s wrist.  Jingyi’s heart is beating so hard in his chest that Sizhui must be able to hear it.  “You’re supposed to wear that.”

“I’ll wear yours,” Sizhui says.  

Jingyi makes a rather undignified and slightly strangled sound.  You’re never supposed to wear someone else’s ribbon, but Sizhui knows that as well as Jingyi does.  Jingyi can’t find a way to protest without sounding like he’s rejecting Sizhui’s ribbon and hence his feelings, and Sizhui probably wouldn’t listen to him even if he did protest.  So Jingyi just watches as Sizhui finishes the knot and begins to untie Jingyi’s forehead ribbon from his wrist to wear it properly.

It’s bizarrely intimate, almost too intimate, to see Sizhui wearing his forehead ribbon.  It’s impossible to tell with a glance that the ribbon isn’t Sizhui’s own, but Jingyi knows, and the sight overwhelms him with feelings that he’s not sure he could name.

Sizhui smooths the forehead ribbon across his forehead, fingers lingering over the silk more than necessary.  Jingyi catches him by the hips and drags him in for a kiss.  Sizhui grabs Jingyi’s robes, pulling them together, and kisses him fiercely.

“I love you.”  Sizhui’s voice is forceful, not leaving any room for Jingyi to doubt.  

“I love you too,” Jingyi says grinning brightly.  

Sizhui, slightly self-consciously, loosens his grip on Jingyi’s robes and carefully smooths them down.  Jingyi chuckles slightly and gently pushes Sizhui's hands away.  

“Get dressed,” he says eyes twinkling, “or we’re going to get distracted again.”

Sizhui stares at him for a moment, expression completely scandalized, and Jingyi just laughs before pressing Sizhui’s neatly folded robes into his hands.

Chapter Text

I let you see the parts of me, that weren't all that pretty
And with every touch you fixed them

Jingyi is sharpening his sword while he waits for Sizhui to finish his bath, more because he needs something to occupy him than because it needs to be sharpened.  When he hears the sounds of his partner getting out of the bath, he gives his sword one last pass and puts it away.  

When Sizhui appears from behind the modesty screen, he’s running his fingers through his long hair.  The white silk of his pants and top clings to his damp skin just enough for Jingyi to glimpse the hard lines of the muscles underneath.

“A-Yuan,” he says, and his voice is a bit rougher than he intended.  

“Mn?” Sizhui looks at him, and the faint blush on his cheeks tells Jingyi that he’s not oblivious to Jingyi’s attention.

Jingyi opens his arms, “come here?”

The rented room is small, and Sizhui covers the distance quickly and drops down beside Jingyi before wrapping his arms around Jingyi’s neck and leaning into him.  Jingyi settles his hands on Sizhui’s waist, careful, always careful.  For a moment, Jingyi marvels at how well they fit together, how easily they’d slid into this new relationship, falling into a dynamic comforting and familiar yet new and exciting in just days.

“Did you want something?” Sizhui asks into his neck.  Jingyi laughs.

“Just you.”

He doesn’t have to look to know that Sizhui is blushing, but he does anyway.  It’s surprising how easy it is to make Sizhui blush.  He’s always been calm and unflappable before.

Sizhui raises one hand to guide Jingyi’s face so they can kiss, confident now in Jingyi’s affection. Using his grip on his partner’s waist, Jingyi pulls Sizhui onto his lap.  Sizhui smiles into their kiss, and Jingyi tastes it with his tongue, until Sizhui’s lips part.  Sizhui’s hand cups Jingyi’s face, keeping him close, not that he has any desire to pull away.

Kissing, objectively, is weird, but he enjoys it with Sizhui here in his arms.  And now, with Sizhui’s warm body against his and only the thin silk of their underclothes between them, it feels like the heat of Sizhui’s body is setting him on fire.  Jingyi breaks away from their kiss to press his lips to Sizhui’s jaw, kissing along the line of it, before lavishing attention on the soft spot behind his ear.  He’s rewarded with the sound of a soft gasp.  

With a quick motion, Sizhui releases Jingyi’s hair from its ponytail before running his hands through it.  As Jingyi kisses his way down Sizhui’s neck, he feels Sizhui’s hands running over his back, down his arms, tracing the muscles there in slow, reverent touches.  Jingyi has never cared much about his own appearance, but the way that Sizhui admires his muscles makes him feel confident and almost proud.   It makes the handstands more than worth it.  He’d happily continue his handstands if Sizhui will just keep touching him like this.

Jingyi’s lips skirt the line of Sizhui’s shirt, pushing it out of the way with his nose.  One of Jingyi’s hands is firm on Sizhui’s hip, steady and anchoring, as he runs the other down Sizhui’s side, feeling the shape of his body and the warmth of his skin through the thin layer of silk.  His fingers catch on the tie of Sizhui’s shirt and he pulls back.

Sizhui has worked one of his hands under Jingyi’s shirt, to caress his back, graceful fingers dancing over the skin.  He looks down when Jingyi pulls back, his hands stilling on Jingyi’s body.  His brown eyes are heated in a way that Jingyi is learning to be familiar with.  

“Can I?” Jingyi asks, tugging slightly at the tie to Sizhui’s shirt, but not undoing it.  

Jingyi has been limited in his ability to reciprocate by the wounds on Sizhui’s back; his bandages have only recently come off.  Their intimacy has been slightly one-sided because of the slow healing.  Though, Sizhui doesn’t seem to mind in the least that Jingyi’s hands are usually on his ass in moments like these. 

Sizhui hesitates for a moment, which catches Jingyi’s attention.  Sizhui has been the leader in this; the first to reach out with lingering touches or to offer loving kisses, leading Jingyi where he’s more than happy to follow. He’s worked off Jingyi’s shirt on numerous occasions, and Jingyi is not complaining about that.  And he hasn’t been hesitant even when they’ve been in more intimate situations than this: both of them hard and wanting but not yet ready.  Sizhui might blush when Jingyi notices his arousal, hard and hot, rapped between their bodies and leans in to whisper suggestive comments in his ear.  But Sizhui doesn’t hesitate, except to make sure that Jingyi wants to keep going.

“A-Yuan,” Jingyi says and most of the heat is out of his voice, immediately quelled by his partner’s hesitation.  “What is it?”

“Nothing, go ahead.”

Jingyi drops his hands back to Sizhui’s hips, and he shakes his head; he doesn’t want Sizhui to do something he’s uncomfortable with.

“A-Yuan,” Jingyi says, watching the cherry blossom blush blooming across Sizhui’s round cheeks.

Sizhui covers his face with his hands.  “I’m ruining the mood,” his voice is only slightly muffled.

Jingyi only chuckles and reaches up to pull his partner’s hands down.  “Don’t worry about that.” Jingyi grins at him and squeezes his ass, “it’s not hard to get it back.”

His cheeks burn brighter, and Jingyi almost chuckles again, but, instead, Jingyi searches his partner's face, trying to guess what made Sizhui hesitate.

“A-Yuan,” Jingyi says, and his tone is light because he knows Sizhui will shut down if things get too serious. “Are you feeling shy?”

Sizhui breaks eye contact, glancing down, and Jingyi knows that he’s hit the mark.  “You don’t need to feel self-conscious.  I’ve seen you shirtless before, and it’s a sight I rather enjoy.”

That makes Sizhui blush all over again, but there’s still hesitation in Sizhui’s eyes.  Jingyi raises a hand and runs his thumb over the blush on Sizhui’s cheeks.

“You’re cute when you blush.”

“You’re doing that on purpose,” Sizhui accuses.

“Guilty,” Jingyi grins at him.  He pulls his lover back into his embrace; Sizhui’s more likely to talk if they aren’t making eye contact.  

“You’re mean,” Sizhui says into Jingyi’s neck.

“It’s not my fault you’re so cute,” Jingyi runs his hand through Sizhui’s damp hair and presses a kiss to the top of his head.  “Lan Sizhui, number one on the list of attractive young masters.”

“The list is biased,” Sizhui complains, “you should be first.”

Jingyi blushes a bit himself, but Sizhui can’t see from where he’s resting his head on Jingyi’s shoulder.  

“No,” Jingyi says, “it’s definitely you: handsome, sweet smile, strong shoulders,” Jingyi runs his hand down across Sizhui’s shoulders and then down his arm, tracing the muscles lightly with his fingers.

“Fit, graceful, elegant,” he continues, his fingers trail down Sizhui’s side stopping at his waist for a moment, feeling the way Sizhui’s waist fits neatly into the curve between his thumb and forefinger, before continuing down.  He knows that Sizhui’s face must be almost radiant with red by now, but he can’t see it, which is a shame.   

His hand reaches Sizhui’s bottom, and he squeezes, “nice butt.”

“Jingyi!” Sizhui wails, putting a stop to his list.  “You’re the worst.”

“I am.  But you love me,” Jingyi says.

“Mn.”  

There’s a pause, and Jingyi tries to gauge Sizhui’s mood.  It’s hard without being able to see his face.  

“Jingyi,” Sizhui says, and his voice is calm again. 

“Yes?”

“You’re the best.”  Jingyi can only laugh at that.  And Sizhui protests, “I mean it!  I’m sorry about earlier.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“I just,” Sizhui turns his face into Jingyi’s shoulder so the rest of his words come out half-muffled, “it’s the wounds on my back.  I know it’s bad, and I don’t want…”

He doesn’t finish, but Jingyi understands. 

“A-Yuan, my love, you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met and your scars don’t change that.”  It’s Jingyi’s turn to pause and consider his words.  He has a lot of complicated feelings about the wounds that Sizhui suffered and the marks left behind, but none of them would cause him to think Sizhui was ugly or undesirable.  In the end, he leaves those discussions for another time.  “But if it makes you more comfortable, leave the shirt on.  I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, ever.”

“I want to,” Sizhui says, and he pulls back a bit so they can look at each other.  His cheeks are pink again.  “I want to keep going and do things that involve taking our clothes off, but I got nervous.”

“I want to do things to you too,” Jingyi says with a smile, keeping the mood light.

“Jingyi!” Sizhui hits his arm.

Jingyi smirks at him for a second before leaning in for a kiss.  He kisses him deeply, tasting his mouth and drinking in his sighs and gasps.  When Jingyi pulls back, Sizhui is panting slightly, and his eyes are wide and dark.  He places a hand on Sizhui’s side where the ties of his shirt are.

“What do you want to do, Love?  I think it’s almost your bedtime.”

“As if you don’t fall asleep too!”  Jingyi grins at him.

“We can get in bed, we can go back to what we were doing, or we can continue?”

Jingyi leaves it in Sizhui’s hands.  

“Take it off,” Sizhui says.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” 

Jingyi leans in for a lingering open-mouthed kiss before he pulls the ties free.  He keeps kissing him, intentionally distracting him.  His hands are gentle as he pushes the shirt over Sizhui’s shoulders, careful of any lash marks that might come up that high.  

Jingyi breaks the kiss to press his lips to the corner of Sizhui’s mouth, and then his jaw, then the smooth skin of his throat.  His hands come to rest on Sizhui’s arms, stroking over his biceps and down before moving to his waist.  He traces the lines of his ribs, pressing in the curve of his waist and feeling the muscles like steel under soft skin.  

A happy sigh escapes Jingyi’s lips as he traces Sizhui’s collarbone with his mouth.  For years, he’s wanted to touch Sizhui, to love him like this.  Jingyi is more than content with his exploration and the small sounds Sizhui makes under his ministrations.  With every lingering touch and soft gasp, Jingyi becomes more aware of his own desire and Sizhui’s weight on his lap.

He only wishes that he could lay Sizhui out and take his time exploring his body.  With Sizhui settled in his lap, he’s limited by how low he can duck his head.  But he reminds himself that there will be time for that later, and contents himself with using his fingers to trace the hard V of Sizhui’s hip and the lines of his abs.  

He’s not the only one exploring.  Sizhui’s wandering hands make their way across Jingyi’s back, calluses rasping pleasantly against his skin. He’s worked his way up from the small of Jingyi’s back, up and up until he’s stroking his hands over the taut line of Jingyi’s traps and bunching his shirt up in the process since he hadn’t bothered to untie it.  

Leaning back for a moment, Jingyi tugs the tie of his own shirt loose and shucks the whole shirt off, the white silk falling already forgotten behind him.  Sizhui mirrors him, allowing his top to fall the rest of the way off of his arms.  But even as he undresses, Sizhui watches Jingyi with intensity, eyes following the faint flex and ripple of Jingyi’s muscles as he moves before reaching out to touch him as if Jingyi’s skin is a lure that he can’t resist.

With his hands on Sizhui’s waist, tracing the line of his lower ribs with his thumbs, he lets himself just admire for a moment.  It’s not the first time that he’s seen Sizhui shirtless, but it’s the first time he is allowed to look his full.  So look he does.  He takes in the faint smattering of freckles on Sizhui’s shoulders, the birthmark just above his hip, a silvery-white scar on his left bicep from a night hunt--all against the creamy background of golden skin several shades darker than his own.  Sizhui is thinner than he remembers, the forced inactivity since his injury slowly wearing on him, but still strong and definitely still beautiful.

Jingyi doesn’t realize exactly how long he’s been staring, just admiring, until Sizhui, growing uncomfortable, shifts under his attention.

“You’re beautiful,” Jingyi tells him and then kisses the rosy blush staining his cheeks.  Sizhui hunches his shoulder slightly in embarrassment.

Jingyi can also see the purple, still-healing wounds that lick up over Sizhui’s shoulders and criss-cross his back.  It’s the first time Jingyi has seen them since the day Sizhui was punished.  His hands tighten on Sizhui’s hips, squeezing the soft skin harder than he intended. 

Sizhui looks down, long hair cascading down over his shoulders and bangs falling to hide his face from view.   

“I know they’re ugly,” Sizhui says hunching his shoulders more.

“Shhh,” Jingyi says, gently smoothing his hair back off his shoulder, careful of the injuries.  He leans down to press a kiss in the hollow where Sizhui’s shoulder meets his neck.  

“You are beautiful,” he breathes the words against Sizhui’s skin.  Carefully, he brushes his lips, gentle as a butterfly’s touch, over the angry mark on Sizhui’s shoulder.  Sizhui shudders, but it’s not in pain.

“Jingyi,” he whispers, clutching at Jingyi’s back.

“And you are brave.”  Jingyi places another phantom kiss over the next mark.  “You are so brave.”

Sizhui trembles like a leaf under his touch.  Gently, reverently, Jingyi traces the harsh line of the scar he just kissed down Sizhui’s back.  The touch is feather-light and so, so, careful.

“You are kind and good.”  

Jingyi’s face is still tucked in the curve of Sizhui’s shoulder.  He can’t see Sizhui’s face, and he wants to, but he doesn’t look up, not when he can feel Sizhui trembling under his hands.  

“You love me more than I deserve,” Jingyi says, quietly, still caressing the lines of Sizhui’s ravaged back.  The wounds are stark, violent, but they could never repulse Jingyi.  Not when it is Sizhui and they represent the sacrifice Sizhui made to save him.

“No,” Sizhui says, fingernails digging into Jingyi’s back as he shakes his head.  

“But, I am so grateful that you are mine.  And I love you.”

Sizhui shudders again at the word love.

“I will never stop loving you, A-Yuan,” Jingyi finally leans back and looks up at Sizhui.  There are tears shining in his dark eyes.  Jingyi reaches up to cradle his face, gently wiping away the single tear that escapes with his thumb.  

“Nothing could stop me from loving you.”

Jingyi kisses his trembling lips, softly, carefully, as if afraid he might break.  

“Nothing.”

Chapter Text

Yeah, it's perfectly reckless
Damn, you leave me defenseless

Jingyi is vaguely aware that it must be 5 am because he is drifting into wakefulness.  But his body is heavy with sleep on the soft bed and Sizhui’s warm, comforting weight is pressed against his side.  His eyes flutter open just long enough to glance down at the dark crown of Sizhui’s head.  Languidly, Jingyi turns towards Sizhui, lowering his head to brush his lips against the soft silk of his black hair, before surrendering himself back to sleep or trying.

Sizhui shifts in his arms, shuffling closer and nuzzling his neck.

“Jingyi,” he murmurs, and his voice is gravelly with sleep, “Are you awake?”

“No,” Jingyi says, half mumbling.

Sizhui, obviously more awake than he is, huffs out a laugh.  He ghosts his lips over Jingyi’s neck and up to his ear, his touch driving away some of Jingyi’s sleepiness.

“You sure?” Sizhui tries again.

“Mn,” Jingyi says.

“Jingyi,” Sizhui's voice is singsongy.

“Try again in an hour,” Jingyi says with his eyes firmly closed, and Sizhui laughs.  

“Alright,” Sizhui says and pulls away, starting to get out of bed, but Jingyi blindly reaches out, catching his arm before he can get up.

“Stay?”

“It’s time for me to get up,” he says, affectionately running his fingers through Jingyi’s hair.

“A-Yuan,” Jingyi says, tugging Sizhui towards him.  “Don’t go.”

Sizhui sighs, body going soft as he lets Jingyi pull him back into the bed.  Jingyi’s hand slides to the curve of Sizhui’s hip, holding him close.  With Sizhui back in his embrace, Jingyi lets himself drift back to sleep.  Faintly, he hears Sizhui say something that might have been ‘I can never say no to you.’  

Jingyi wakes to the sound of Sizhui’s sweet voice calling his name.  They’re still side by side on the bed, but Sizhui’s shifted away slightly except for his hand, splayed on Jingyi’s chest.

“Mn?” Jingyi, still mostly asleep, shifts closer to Sizhui again.

“Good morning,” Sizhui’s voice is quiet but intense.  

Jingyi opens his eyes at the unanticipated tone, and his sleepiness evaporates as he takes in Sizhui, who’s propped up on an elbow and leaning over him.  His hair is unbound, falling in a curtain around both of them and his shirt is slipping to one side, revealing the sharp line of his collarbone and the curve of his shoulder, pale skin decorated with fading pink marks from Jingyi’s mouth. 

“Did you have a good dream?” Sizhui asks, leaning to kiss him, pressing their bodies together.  Their lips brush, soft and chaste, but the motion of his hand is intentional and searing as his fingers trail down the bare skin of Jingyi’s chest, distracting him completely.

“Hm?”  

A satisfied smirk curls up the corner of Sizhui’s lips, as he leans in and kisses him again, more demanding this time, urging Jingyi’s lips apart.  Jingyi tightens his grip on his lover's hip, pulling Sizhui half on top of him, even as Sizhui presses their bodies together until there’s no space between them.  Sizhui makes a satisfied sound as his hand strokes across Jingyi’s abs, fingers memorizing the landscape of his body, brushing over planes and pressing into hollows, moving slowly, reverently.  

The touch of Sizhui’s skin against his, the press of his lips, and the taste of his mouth summons an edge of want that flashes through Jingyi’s whole body until he realizes that even though Sizhui has barely touched him he’s already hard and Sizhui is decidedly not helping.  There’s no way that Sizhui hasn’t noticed.  A blush of embarrassment spreads across Jingyi’s fair skin even as his body comes alive under his lover's hands.  

As they kiss, Sizhui’s fingers trail lower and lower, coming to rest only a few centimeters above the line of Jingyi’s pants.  His nails dig into the skin for a moment as his hand tenses and then he pulls back from the kiss, looking down at Jingyi with brown eyes gone dark and hungry in an expression that, though still new to Jingyi, is unmistakable.  An echo of his desire spreads like electricity through Jingyi’s veins.

“Jingyi,” Sizhui says, a delicate pink blooming high on his cheeks, “can I touch you?”

“You’re already touching me,” Jingyi says, words spilling out before he can think them through.

Even though Sizhui’s still blushing, the corner of his mouth turns up in a slightly predatory smile that is somehow at home in his normally sweet face, and Jingyi feels his cheeks flushing darker.  Sizhui’s hand is hot against Jingyi’s skin, and he runs his thumb along the sharp V of Jingyi’s hip bone, the burning touch capturing all of Jingyi’s attention as Sizhui’s thumb reaches the line of his pants, catching on the thin silk fabric but not pulling it down.  Not yet.

“I-, oh-,” Jingyi struggles as words fail him and his brain tries to process that Sizhui is here and asking to touch his dick. “Yes.”

Sizhui doesn’t move and his gaze is intense. “Are you sure? I don’t want to push you.”

“Yes,” Jingyi says with confidence this time.  “I’m sure. Very sure.”

Sizhui smiles at him, and it’s slightly shy.  But his gaze is greedy as it trails down Jingyi’s body until he’s looking at the hard line of Jingyi’s cock tenting the fabric of his pants.  Sizhui reaches out to undo the ties to his pants, and Jingyi, unable to bear the weight of his attention, has to look away.  

Sizhui’s elegant fingers curl around his cock, caressing the length, and, though the touch is more curious than anything, a needy whimper escapes Jingyi’s mouth.  Sizhui smiles, but Jingyi’s whole body goes tense, and his hands fly up to cover his face, but whether it’s to shield his eyes or to silence his mouth he’s not sure.  

“Jing-er,” Sizhui’s voice is a purr; the warm sound draws another whimper from him.  Sizhui’s lips brush along the line of his jaw.  “Relax.”

Although Jingyi would like to demand to know how he’s supposed to relax when Sizhui is on top of him and touching him like this, the order seems to bypass his brain entirely as the tension bleeds from his muscles.

“Good.” The word is whispered into the shell of his ear and his whole body trembles and his hips twitch.  

At first, Sizhui moves his hands with a slow, careful rhythm.  Pleasure builds low and slow like embers in Jingyi’s body.  Then Sizhui shifts his grip, moving his hand faster, and Jingyi’s breath catches hard in his chest, and Sizhui hums in satisfaction at the change and presses himself closer to Jingyi, hot breath spilling over Jingyi’s skin as his lips make their way across Jingyi’s collarbone, tasting every bit of skin he can reach. 

“You feel so good, Jingyi.”

Jingyi’s hips jerk, and he can feel Sizhui’s sharp smile against his skin.  Sizhui’s canines scrape across his skin as his hand twists, tightening his grip.  Jingyi gasps, thrusting into the tight friction of Sizhui’s hand as Sizhui moves his hand faster.  Jingyi can’t seem to get enough air as pleasure and desire bloom under his skin with every stroke of Sizhui’s hand.  

It shouldn’t be this good, he thinks slightly desperately as Sizhui’s fingers move across the head of his cock.  It’s not like he’s never touched himself before.  He’s tried it a handful of times, but it was never this good.  But it is, and it’s not long before Sizhui’s touch drives away even the thought of embarrassment, and his hands fall away from his face.

Instantly, Sizhui’s lips are against his, hungry and desperate; he swallows down all the gasps and whimpers falling from Jingyi’s lips.  Under Sizhui’s touch Jingyi has become a live wire, and every movement of Sizhui’s hands is driving him closer to the finish, and he’s already so close.

“A-Yuan,” he gasps, breaking their kiss.

“Jing-er,” Sizhui says, and his voice is so warm it seems to curl around him.  It’s entirely unfair that he can sound so composed when Jingyi is falling apart.  

“I-” Jingyi’s words cut off into a moan as Sizhui does something with his hand.  And Jingyi knows he’s not going to last longer.  “A-Yuan,” the word is a whine.

“It’s okay,” Sizhui says, nipping at Jingyi’s jaw, “let go.”  

As if on command, Jingyi’s breath hitches in anticipation then white-hot pleasure fills his whole body, and he cries out Sizhui’s name.

“You’re so good, Jing-er,” Sizhui whispers against his skin as Jingyi’s whole body trembles.  “Look at you, so beautiful.  I love you so much.  You’re so good, Love.”  

Praise spills from his lips, flooding Jingyi with warmth as the tension eases from his muscles, fading into afterglow.  

Gently, Jingyi reaches out and strokes the familiar lines of Sizhui’s face, and Sizhui leans into his touch.  The smile on his angelic face is brilliant, and Jingyi forgets how to breathe again for a moment.  He sinks his fingers into the soft silk of Sizhui’s hair.  But Sizhui raises his hand, which is partially covered in white.  

Embarrassment hits Jingyi again, turning his cheeks red, and he’s about to get up and get water or something when Sizhui licks his hand. Whatever Jingyi had expected him to do, it wasn’t that.

“Sizhui!”  

He stares; he can’t help it.  Really, it should be disgusting, but there’s something about Sizhui wanting to taste him that does something to him.  Cool grey eyes meet warm brown, and the corner of Sizhui’s mouth quirks up before he licks his hand again without looking away.

“You’re a menace,” Jingyi says, falling back against the bed.  

“What, you've never been curious?”

“Lan Sizhui!” Jingyi says in a mock outraged tone.  “Where are you getting these ideas! Have you been reading contraband materials?”

“Mn,” Sizhui says, “guilty.”

“Sizhui!” Jingyi says with real shock this time.  

Sizhui only laughs, but his eyes are still dark and intense.  Jingyi pushes himself into a sitting position.  

“When did you even,” Jingyi says, moving around Sizhui to grab something for Sizhui to wash his hands.  “We share a bedroom.”

“You spent a lot of time copying the rules,” Sizhui says, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

“Are you telling me,” Jingyi says, getting out of the bed and heading for the towel hanging on the privacy screen, “that I was copying rules and you were… you were...”

“Thinking about you.”  

“Sizhui!” Jingyi yelps.  Sizhui is not as naive and obedient as most people think, and while Jingyi knows more than anyone else the ways in which he can be mischievous, this is a whole other side of Sizhui that he hadn’t quite expected.

“It’s the truth,” Sizhui says with so much sincerity that Jingyi feels himself blushing again.  He snatches the towel from the screen and turns back to face Sizhui. 

Though Sizhui’s cheeks are pink from the admission, there is no shyness in his expression.  This is a new side of Sizhui: eyes hungry with desire, skin marked by passion, and cock hard with need.  Jingyi’s gaze traces the line of Sizhui’s erection against the silk of his pants, and he swallows hard as he’s struck with just how much he wants. 

“A-Yuan,” he says as he takes the few steps back to the bed and gives Sizhui the towel for his hands.

“Mn?”   

Sizhui is always beautiful; elegant features complemented by a kindness and grace that is all his own.  But he’s especially lovely when he’s stripped free of the robes and trappings of status, when he’s just Sizhui.  Right now his hair is falling around him and his clothes are slightly rumpled and it feels like this version of Sizhui is just for him.  

“I want...,” Jingyi starts.  He wants to give Sizhui pleasure, but it’s more than that, he wants to see Sizhui come undone with it.  His gaze drops back to Sizhui’s lap.

“Tell me,” Sizhui urges, slightly breathless.

Jingyi takes a breath and drops to his knees like a supplicant beside the bed.  He looks up into brown eyes as lovely as they are familiar.

“Come here,” Jingyi says, and his voice is rough.

Though he tilts his head in curiosity, Sizhui moves to the edge of the bed without question or hesitation.  Jingyi runs his hands up the hard muscle of Sizhui’s thighs, touch lingering for a moment in admiration before his grip tightens and he pulls Sizhui towards him until Jingyi’s kneeling between his legs.

Jingyi forces himself to look up to Sizhui’s face.  His eyes have gone slightly wide with surprise, but there is no less desire there, if anything there is more.  Jingyi’s heart is thundering, and he licks his lips before he speaks.

“A-Yuan, can I?”

“You don’t have to,” Sizhui says, reaching down to stroke Jingyi’s face.  “Just because-”

“I want to,” Jingyi cuts him off.  His face is flushing hot again, and he knows that his nerve will soon fail him.  “I want to.  Please?”

Sizhui shudders under his hands, his dark lashes fluttering, and he nods.  Jingyi is trembling slightly as he works the ties of Sizhui’s pants free.  He almost can’t believe his own nerve.  He has no idea what he’s doing; he’s never touched someone else’s dick before let alone tried this.  He hasn’t even read any of the confiscated novels that Sizhui apparently has.  But he knows that it’s a thing and he, for some reason, wants to do it.

When the pants are pushed out of the way, Sizhui’s erection, which had been pressing against the fabric, springs free.  And Jingyi feels nervous, almost hysterical, laughter threatening to bubble up.

Jingyi takes a steadying breath and closes his fingers around Sizhui’s cock, feeling the length of it hot and hard against his palm.  Sizhui’s whole body trembles again like a leaf in a breeze as Jingyi strokes the curved length, marveling slightly at the velvety soft skin under his hand.  Sizhui whimpers, soft and needy, but loud enough for Jingyi to hear it and need to hear it again and again. 

He can’t bring himself to look up at Sizhui’s face as he leans in to take Sizhui into his mouth.  A sharp exhale breaks the silence as Jingyi’s hot breath spills over Sizhui’s cock, and Sizhui’s hand is suddenly on Jingyi’s head, his fingers burying themselves in Jingyi’s hair.  His fingers tighten as Jingyi tastes him, curiously running his tongue around the head and down to the base.  The taste on his tongue is slightly salty and slightly bitter, but not horrible, and definitely worth it for the strangled sound that Sizhui makes.

He tries to take Sizhui entirely into his mouth, but his cock seems so much bigger this way than it had in his hand.  He gags slightly when it hits the back of his throat, but he doesn’t pull away.  Instead, he wraps one hand around the base so that his lips meet his fingers.  

“Jingyi,” Sizhui gasps his name.  When Jingyi hums in response, Sizhui moans, hips jerking.  His hand tightens almost painfully in Jingyi’s hair, clinging to him as if desperate for an anchor.

Jingyi pulls back completely, and Sizhui whimpers at the loss of sensation.  Heat rushes through Jingyi’s body at the sound.

“Is it alright?” Jingyi asks, finally daring to look up at Sizhui, who is staring at him with hungry eyes and cheeks flushed with desire.

“Yes,” he says too quickly, “better than alright.  Do it again? Please?”  

His face blushes even brighter at his request, embarrassment mingling with enjoyment.  

His eagerness brings a bright grin to Jingyi’s face before he obediently takes Sizhui back into his mouth.  Again, he tries to take the whole length of Sizhui’s cock into his mouth, but he has to fight the urge to gag and pulls back.  He tries twice more, relishing the sweet sound Sizhui makes in the moments when he’s deep in Jingyi’s throat, before deciding this is something he’ll have to work up to.  But Sizhui’s reactions make him determined to figure it out.  

For now, he closes his fingers around the base where his lips cannot reach as he sucks.  Sizhui’s whole body goes taught, hips jerking up involuntarily, and Jingyi gags.

“Sorry!” Sizhui gasps, eyes worried.  But Jingyi shakes his head ever so slightly and keeps his attention on the motion of his tongue curling around Sizhui’s cock until the worry evaporates from his expression.  Perfect. 

Jingyi’s free hand curves around Sizhui’s hip, fingers digging in slightly, to keep him still as Jingyi works to set a rhythm with his head and hand.  The rhythm is slow but Sizhui gasps and squirms.

“Jingyi,” Sizhui’s voice is desperate, almost begging.  Jingyi growls slightly, hand tightening on Sizhui’s hip.  If he hadn’t have just come, the sound might have made him desperate with desire.

“Jingyi,” Sizhui says his name again.  “More? Please? Please, don’t stop.”  The words spill out of him, broken by moans and gasps. 

Jingyi moves faster, chasing the frantic tempo of Sizhui’s breathing and the sound of his moans.  His fingers dig into Sizhui’s hip, stopping him from thrusting up into Jingyi’s mouth.  

Soon Sizhui gives up entirely on words except for Jingyi’s name.  He repeats it like a mantra, like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded in reality.  

It really doesn’t last long, but it feels like forever to Jingyi as he loses himself in Sizhui’s pleasure, the desperate edge to his voice, the ragged sound of his breathing, the way his muscles tremble.  But the spell is broken as Sizhui’s fingers close in his hair, tugging urgently.

“I-, oh, I’m going-”

Jingyi hums in affirmation, sending a responding shudder through Sizhui’s form.  Reassuringly, Jingyi squeezes his hip, but he doesn’t let up.  He doesn’t stop until Sizhui comes, crying out Jingyi’s name and spilling across Jingyi’s tongue.  Jingyi swallows it down, making a slight face at the taste, before leaning back.  

Jingyi remains in place, kneeling before Sizhui, and looks up at the vision that is Sizhui, flushed and gasping for air; his eyes are slightly dazed, and his lips are parted and pink from kissing.  Satisfaction curls contentedly in Jingyi’s stomach and turns his lips up into a smile.  Sizhui’s body is an altar at which Jingyi will happily worship.  

“Jingyi,” Sizhui says, voice breathy, and pulls on his arms, finally pulling him out of his supplication and into Sizhui’s embrace.  Jingyi sits on Sizhui’s thigh, encircled by his arms, and leans down to exchange languorous, open-mouthed kisses with his lover, who is soft and pliant where their bodies are pressed together.  

Sizhui breaks the kiss to lean his head against Jingyi’s chest over his heart, and Jingyi strokes Sizhui’s hair.

“Was it good?” Jingyi asks.

“Better than good,” Sizhui says with surprising ferocity.

“I’m glad,” Jingyi says, running his hand through Sizhui’s long hair.  “But, I think I could do better.”

“Oh?”

“Those books you read didn’t happen to have any tips on not choking on a dick do they?” Jingyi asks.  

“Jingyi!”

Chapter Text

I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh
I want to hold you high and steal your pain away

Sizhui waits, somewhat impatiently, as Jingyi closes the door to the room behind him, before reaching out to grab Jingyi by the waist and pull him closer.  As natural as breathing, Jingyi turns into his embrace, hand curling around Sizhui’s hip, and hauls him closer.  Sizhui’s breath half catches in his chest at how easily Jingyi moves him, at the controlled power in the motion.  

Sizhui slides his hands up to Jingyi’s shoulders; their bodies fit together perfectly this way; his feet between Jingyi’s, and his body tucked neatly into the circle of his lover’s arms.  Jingyi brushes Sizhui’s bangs out of his face, tender and sweet.  And for a moment, Sizhui looks at the jade perfect features, sharp cheekbones, chiseled jaw, intense grey eyes, and finds himself breathless.  Jingyi grins; it’s slightly crooked and somehow better for the imperfection.  The smile is beautiful and familiar, and Sizhui can feel himself melting in the warmth of it.  

A strong hand cradles Sizhui’s face, gently, as if he’s something precious, and Jingyi leans in to kiss him.  As their lips meet, Sizhui lets the rest of the world fade away.  For a moment he feels that he is nothing but softness and warmth, basking entirely in Jingyi’s affection.  There is nothing in the world but the two of them.

But it hadn’t been a desire for comfort that had sent him reaching out for his lover, but the hard edge of want.  A craving that still fills him, and drives him to lean into the kiss, eager for more, not just for the press of lips, but the taste of his mouth, the heat of his skin, and the touch of his hands.  

Sizhui frees Jingyi’s hair from its ponytail so he can tangle his fingers in it as their tongues slide together.  Following his lead, Jingyi’s hand moves from the curve of his hip to his ass, grip rough and demanding.  Sizhui gasps slightly, involuntarily tightening his own grip on Jingyi’s hair and pressing himself as close to Jingyi as he can. The kiss begins to bleed from eager to desperate as the heat of Jingyi’s body against his sets Sizhui on fire. 

Craving the hot silk over steel feeling of Jingyi’s skin, Sizhui slides his hand under the collar of Jingyi’s robes.  But there are too many layers to be easily pushed aside, and he can’t help a tiny growl of frustration.  Maybe they have the same thought or maybe Jingyi understands Sizhui’s exasperation, but a moment later Jingyi pulls back without breaking their kiss, making just enough room for their hands to come between them and work the belts free. The belts are carelessly discarded and instantly forgotten.

The extra layers of the Gusu Lan uniform are nothing more than an annoyance right now, as Jingyi strips him free of layer after layer.  His robes finally fall free, leaving him in only his underclothes, but there’s only an ember of self-consciousness left, as Jingyi undoes the ties of his shirt and carefully pushes it off.  It’s much easier, and much more pleasant, for Sizhui to focus on Jingyi.  

Sizhui doesn’t bother getting Jingyi’s pants off—he has what he wanted.  The low light makes deep shadows from the hard cut lines of Jingyi’s muscles, and Sizhui longs to touch and taste them all.  There’s so much he wants to do that it’s almost overwhelming.  His hands drop to Jingyi’s waist, thumbs sliding along the lines of his obliques, fingers digging into the back.  His hands can’t help but wander as he presses his lips to the hollow between his collarbones, and then up the line of his throat until he reaches his mouth.

He hardly notices the way that Jingyi is shifting them, his body malleable under Jingyi’s firm touch, until Jingyi’s thigh slides between his legs.  He moans, hips moving of their own accord, grinding against Jingyi.  

Sizhui can almost taste the satisfied smile on Jingyi’s lips, as small sounds of pleasure pour from Sizhui’s mouth into their kiss.  As Jingyi’s hands slide down Sizhui’s sides, touch slow and burning; he moves his own hips, and Sizhui can feel him hot and hard against him, making Sizhui even needier.

“Jingyi,” Sizhui gasps. 

Jingyi hums in answer.  One of his hands curls around the nape of Sizhui’s neck, keeping their mouths locked together.  The callouses rasp slightly against Sizhui’s skin, drawing his attention briefly away from the warmth slowly coiling in his body and the feeling of Jingyi’s form under his hands.  His hand is large and strong from swordplay and training, more than strong enough to snap Sizhui’s neck, but the touch is comforting, encouraging even if the thought of how easily Jingyi could overpower him causes Sizhui to press himself more desperately against his lover.

Jingyi’s hand is on his hip, pulling him forward, and it takes Sizhui a moment to realize that Jingyi is moving and pulling Sizhui with him.  His body obeys Jingyi’s guidance automatically and he doesn’t stumble as Jingyi draws him to the bed, not breaking the kiss until they hit the edge of the mattress and Jingyi drops down onto it.

Now seated on the bed, he tugs Sizhui gently towards him.  Sizhui wishes that Jingyi would have dragged him down with him but knows that he won’t so long as Sizhui is injured.  One day, he thinks, they’ll be able to topple onto the bed together, without this stupid hesitation, or maybe Jingyi will push Sizhui onto the bed first and climb on top.

Sizhui drops into Jingyi’s lap so fast that he jars his back.  But he doesn’t care about the burst of pain as he straddles Jingyi, burying both of his hands in the silk of Jingyi’s hair, and kisses him hard, trying to somehow convey the overwhelming strength of his desire.  

He grins against him searching for friction. Jingyi responds in earnest, the two of them finding a rhythm.  Pleasure coils in Sizhui’s body, a flame growing brighter with every motion.  Sizhui gives up on kissing, he can’t seem to get enough air into his lungs, but Jingyi’s breath is just as broken.  Sizhui can feel it where their chests are pressed together.

The pleasure builds, but so does the sense that this isn’t enough.  Sizhui can feel how hard Jingyi is, can feel the cock pressing hard against his ass, and he wants more.

Sizhui grinds down harder, experimentally.  Jingyi moans, and his hand momentarily grips Sizhui’s skin hard enough to bruise.  So Sizhui does it again.  

“Sizhui,” Jingyi moans his name and presses his face into the curve of Sizhui’s shoulder, pressing open-mouthed kisses into his heated skin.  “Oh, god, Sizhui.”  The sound of his name is almost a whimper.  

“Jingyi,” Sizhui says, and his voice is breathy.  The heartbeat roars in his ears, and desire fills him.  He wants; he wants Jingyi now.  

Reluctantly, Sizhui pulls away from Jingyi, slowing the motion of his hips.  Jingyi blinks up at him, grey eyes momentarily unfocused with pleasure.  A shiver runs down Sizhui’s spine, wondering what that perfect face would look like completely lost in pleasure.

“Jingyi,” he says, “I want you.”  

A confused expression crosses Jingyi’s face, and Sizhui feels a blush creeping onto his face.  He still can’t shake the embarrassment that seems to seize him when he has to express these things in words.

He leans in the whisper in Jingyi’s ear, lips nearly brushing the skin.

“I want you to make love to me, Jingyi.”  

“Oh,” the sound is so small, but Sizhui can feel the effect of his words traveling through Jingyi’s body as he trembles slightly, and his hands tighten on Sizhui’s ass.  It feels like desire, but,  “Sizhui…”

That is not a yes.  Sizhui freezes for a moment and then pulls back.  

“If you’re not ready,” Sizhui says, instantly backpedaling.  “That’s fine… I just.”  His face must be glowing red by now.

He’d thought his lover’s want mirrored his own, but it seems he got it wrong.  And now he can’t help but worry that he’s pushed too far, too fast for Jingyi, that he’s made him uncomfortable.  The sharp sting of the rejection is buried behind his anxiety.

“A-Yuan,” Jingyi silences him with a finger to his lips.  Then his thumb traces along his bottom lip, very much distracting him.  “Your back.”

Sizhui frowns.  He hadn’t been thinking at all about his back, and he doesn’t particularly want to.  But Jingyi’s concern for him eases the anxiety creeping up.  He hadn’t misread Jingyi’s desires after all.

“You can’t even sleep on your back,” Jingyi says.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Sizhui bites his lip because while he really wants Jingyi to fuck him into the mattress, he can’t say that it won’t hurt because it would.  And he doesn’t lie.

“I don’t care,” he says after a moment’s pause.  

Jingyi closes his eyes briefly.  “I do.”  

He flops back onto the bed, leaving Sizhui sitting on his hips.  His eyes slide across Sizhui’s bare chest and down to his erection, straining the thin fabric of his pants.  He makes an unintelligible sound and looks back up at Sizhui’s face.  “I won’t hurt you.”

“Even if I want you to?”  The words escape Sizhui’s mouth before he can stop them.  It’s not something he’s particularly into- he thinks-, but right now he wants, needs, Jingyi not to reject him.

One of Jingyi’s eyebrows shoots up.  “If,” he says carefully, “that’s something you want.  We can try it later, with something that can’t permanently damage you.”

“Jing-er,” Sizhui says, “please?”  He knows he is begging.  He doesn’t particularly care because his blood is still running hot and Jingyi is still hard underneath him.  They are aligned in this, in their hunger for one another, and the fact that Sizhui’s injury is fracturing the symmetry between them is almost untenable.

Jingyi lets out a long sigh and covers his face with his arm.  “I cannot believe,” he says into the air, “that you are begging me for sex and I am saying no.  Fifteen-year-old me would kick my ass.”

“Then don’t say no,” Sizhui says, voice quiet but intense.  

Jingyi’s repeated rebuffs are starting to temper the heat in Sizhui’s system.  Each rejection feels a bit like he’s not wanted, even if it defies logic, and it cuts through the dizzying want that’s filling him.  

“Sizhui,” Jingyi’s voice is quiet.  His other hand gently trails across the ruined skin of Sizhui’s back.  The touch is light and incredibly careful.  Jingyi hardly ever touches his back, too afraid to hurt him, no matter how often he insists that it will be fine.  Sizhui shudders under the touch.  “It’s so hard to say no to you.”

He sounds a little lost and a little sad.  He still has his arm over his face, and Sizhui is still watching him.  Sizhui is still hard, and he still wants, but the desperate desire fades almost entirely from Sizhui’s system at the sound of those words.

“Jing-er, look at me,” he says quietly.  Jingyi obeys almost immediately.  His grey eyes are full of turmoil, and Sizhui feels guilt bubbling up.  This is his fault.  “I shouldn’t push you; it’s not right.  I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.  I’m sorry.”

Jingyi’s expression relaxes, but Sizhui slumps slightly and pulls away, hands moving to his legs instead of Jingyi’s waist.  

But Jingyi reaches out and gently pushes Sizhui’s hair out of his face.  He looks right at Sizhui for a long moment and seems to see right into his heart.

“A-Yuan don’t misunderstand me, I want you.  I want you more than anything,” he says before Sizhui’s self-doubts can truly assert themselves.  “But, I don’t want to hurt you; you’ve hurt enough.”

There’s a lump in Sizhui’s throat, and he can’t come up with words.  So he leans down to kiss Jingyi instead.  His back twinges as he bends, and he must have winced or paused or something, because Jingyi suddenly surges up, meeting him in the middle before he can push himself further.  

“I promise,” Jingyi says when he pulls away from the kiss, “that when you are fully healed, I will fuck you however you want.”

Jingyi smirks at him, and Sizhui’s face goes hot even as a shiver of anticipation goes through him.

Sizhui smiles right back and kisses him.  At first, the kiss is soft, tender on Jingyi’s side, and apologetic on Sizhui’s but that doesn’t last. Sizhui’s not even sure if it is him or Jingyi or both of them, but the kiss turns deep, the pair of them regaining the lost momentum.  

Jingyi’s hand slides from Sizhui’s hip to his ass, squeezing and jerking Sizhui closer to him.  Eagerly Sizhui leans in, gripping Jingyi’s biceps and grinding down against his cock.  Jingyi swears into the kiss, and Sizhui can’t help but grin.  

Sizhui nips at Jingyi’s bottom lip and then moves his attention to the sharp line of his jaw and then down his neck.  With his tongue, he tastes the shadow between his collarbones and the slight shimmer of sweat on his fair skin.  He ghosts his lips over the soft skin of Jingyi’s shoulder, before biting, not hard enough to break the skin, but definitely hard enough to leave a mark.  He’s rewarded with a gasp and jerk of Jingyi’s hips. 

Sizhui drags his hands down Jingyi’s back, fingernails catching on his skin as he presses against the hard muscle.  He kisses the bite mark he made and moves on to another.  He likes leaving marks on Jingyi’s perfect, jade fair skin.  He likes that he’s the only one that can.  

Jingyi’s hands on the ties of his pants draw Sizhui’s attention.  Though Sizhui doesn’t want to pull away, doesn’t want to take his hands or mouth away from Jingyi’s body, he does.  His fingers fumble slightly as he undoes the tie of Jingyi’s pants and then stands up to shove his own off.  

Sizhui’s about to return to his place on Jingyi’s lap, but strong hands on his hips stop him.  Sizhui does not consider disobeying the silent order, not even for a moment.  He stills, head tilting to the side as he looks down at Jingyi, who looks like a vision from Sizhui’s most private dreams.  It’s a lovely sight; the fair skin of his face and chest are flushed, his eyes are wide, dark, and hungry, and his dick is pressing against the line of his pants, which Sizhui had untied but not gotten off of him.  It’s even better than he’d imagined.

With a question in his eyes, Jingyi pushes on Sizhui’s hip to turn him around.    It takes a moment for Sizhui’s muddled brain to process what exactly Jingyi intends and then he feels his face flush hot.

“If you want,” Jingyi says, watching Sizhui’s face.  “We can try this instead.”

Sizhui nods.   

“Yeah,” he says and his voice is a bit faint. “Yes,” he says more firmly.

His gaze goes to the table by the bed.  “I should get the…” he voice stalls out.

“Yeah,” Jingyi says, smiling up at him.  There’s vague amusement in the smile, but he never comments on the waves of shyness that sometimes strikes Sizhui.  

Sizhui shifts out of Jingyi’s hold just enough to grab the oil out of the drawer.  Jingyi snags it from his hand and pulls Sizhui slightly closer.  Probably, Sizhui should turn around, but the idea of completely exposing his back, and his wounds, to Jingyi stalls him. Jingyi doesn’t press him to turn around; instead, he looks up at Sizhui with a crooked grin verging on a smirk and then runs his tongue along the length of Sizhui’s cock.

“I- oh!” Sizhui says, almost losing his footing as the surprise sensation almost overwhelms him.  But Jingyi still has one hand on Sizhui’s hip, keeping him steady.

The shock clears, and Sizhui’s hands drop, one gripping Jingyi’s shoulder and the other sliding into his hair, fingers catching silky strands.

Sizhui tries to rock forward, wanting more of the slick heat of Jingyi’s mouth, but the firm hand on his hip doesn’t let him.  A whine escapes Sizhui’s lips as Jingyi teases him, using his tongue and his hand.  It feels good, but it’s not what he really wants, and Jingyi knows it.  

“Jingyi,” Sizhui says. The pleasure is low and slow, enough to draw out gasps and moans, but not nearly enough to be what Sizhui needs.  His body is tense and his hips jerk against Jingyi’s hold.

“Stop teasing!” he manages to get out.  But Jingyi’s eyes are full of mischief, and Sizhui trembles.  

Jingyi teases him until Sizhui thinks he might go mad with it and his breath catches on his desperation.  “Jingyi, more, please, please ?” 

Finally, Jingyi listens.  Holding Sizhui still with both hands, he takes Sizhui’s whole cock into his mouth.  A moan so low it’s almost inaudible escapes Sizhui’s lips, and his whole body goes liquid for a moment, only Jingyi’s hands are keeping him upright.

But then Jingyi pulls back, and Sizhui whimpers, clutching at him.  

“Would you rather fall?” Jingyi asks lightly, but his hand squeezes Sizhui’s hip, reassuring and grounding.

Sizhui makes a face at him, but he’s right.  Jingyi looks up at him expectantly, waiting for Sizhui to make a suggestion since Sizhui is the only one of the two of them who’s even read porn.  

“Lay down,” Sizhui says, voice urgent, and releases his grip on Jingyi so that he can obey, which he does, with an urgency of his own.  Following him, Sizhui climbs onto the bed, thighs straddling Jingyi’s chest.  He pauses, suddenly not sure if sitting on someone’s face is actually practical, but Jingyi, clearly having deduced his plan, pulls him the rest of the way forward. A shiver of excitement goes through Sizhui as Jingyi effortlessly moves him to fit his desire.

Sizhui hardly has time to brace his arms against the wall before the hot spill of Jingyi’s breath on his dick makes his whole body tremble in anticipation.  This time, Jingyi doesn’t tease him, and Sizhui moans at the wet heat on his cock.  Jingyi is too good with his mouth, and soon Sizhui feels electric.  His whole body is too hot, and he’s leaning desperately against the wall, hands scrambling against the wood.  It’s not nearly as nice as being able to hold on to Jingyi, to press his hands against soft skin and feel the ripple of his muscles, but he’s not in danger of falling.

His breath ratchets faster and faster, never quite being enough.  He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, but they’re closed and every sensation seems amplified. With every passing heartbeat, Sizhui leans more heavily on the wall.

“So good,” he pants, “gods, Jingyi, you are so good at this.”  

He can feel the way the praise rolls through Jingyi’s whole body and knows, even though he can’t see it, that his cock probably twitched as he moans slightly.  Sizhui forces his eyes open and looks down.

Jingyi is looking up at him with hunger in his stormy eyes, and he looks so hot with that expression and Sizhui’s cock in his mouth that Sizhui almost comes.  Sensing the change, Jingyi slows down, and Sizhui whines.  He’s about to ask, beg, Jingyi to please go back to what he was doing, but before he can say anything, Jingyi pulls back entirely, and Sizhui’s next breath is a sob.  Before he can form a coherent question or demand, Jingyi is pressing on his hip to turn him around, and Sizhui remembers that they had had an entirely different plan.  

There’s an inelegant moment of scrambling as Sizhui tries to quickly turn around without kneeing Jingyi in the face. 

Despite the electric heat in his veins, there’s a momentary flare of self-consciousness as the ruined tapestry of his back is exposed.  But Jingyi doesn’t pause to give him time to worry, nipping at the fullest part of his ass.  

Sizhui yelps and drops his hands to grip Jingyi’s waist.  His gaze goes immediately to Jingyi’s cock, hard and flushed and beaded with precome, and his mouth waters.  His eyes flit to the carved abs under his hands and to the hard line of the thigh, and a nearly predatory smile curves up the corner of his lips. 

Leaning forward, he wraps his fingers around Jingyi’s neglected cock.  The resulting moan is low, and Sizhui can feel it rumble in Jingyi’s chest.  He strokes the velvety length, enjoying the way Jingyi seems to flush hotter and harder under his touch.  He’s tempted to taste Jingyi’s cock and pleasure him with his mouth, and he starts to.  Leaning down, he moves to press their bodies together, but the wounds on his back tug, and he’s forced to sit back up again.  So Sizhui uses his hand to jerk Jingyi off. 

Jingyi’s hands are firm on Sizhui’s thighs, fingers gripping the hard muscle, and his hold tightens as Sizhui strokes him, and then Sizhui feels the wet warmth of his tongue on his ass.  His hips rock slightly wanting that tongue in him, not just on him, but he doesn’t stop stroking Jingyi’s cock.

He tries to keep his focus on the rhythm of his hand as Jingyi starts to work him open.  He tries to be patient, and not grind against Jingyi.  But when the wet heat of Jingyi’s mouth is joined by the slick press of one and then two of his fingers, Sizhui can’t help but rock back against the pressure, to chase the friction against his cock and the feeling of Jingyi’s fingers filling him up.

Then Jingyi moves his fingers just right and Sizhui gasps, pleasure sparking like a signal flare through his whole system.  Before he can even form words to ask Jingyi to please, please, please do that again, he does, and Sizhui's whole body trembles.

He realizes that he’s gone still, no longer jerking Jingyi off, and he starts to move again.  But it’s so hard to focus when every motion of Jingyi’s hand sends electricity fizzling through his system.  

Sizhui’s breath is racing again, breaking in his throat and coming out as moans.  He can’t keep any sort of rhythm with his hand, even though he tries.  His eyes fall closed, and there is nothing in the world except Jingyi and the pleasure threatening to drown him.  He says Jingyi’s name again and again.  

“Jingyi! It’s so-” Sizhui says, gasping, “good. Please, I’m so close!”

A satisfied purr rolls through Jingyi’s chest, and Sizhui gasps, hips rocking back into Jingyi’s fingers again.  A few more thrusts and Sizhui comes, crying out Jingyi’s name. The world goes white, and he loses himself.

“Fuck, Sizhui,” Jingyi says.  His hand closes around Sizhui’s own, guiding his hand up and down his cock.  “Look at you…” 

Then Jingyi is coming, pulsing under his hand and gushing over their joined hands.

Sizhui’s legs are trembling as he blinks himself back to coherency.  Jingyi’s body has gone completely relaxed under his. Shakily, Sizhui climbs off of his lover and drops down against him instead.  His back aches at the motion, but he doesn’t care.  

The body against his is too muscular to be a soft pillow, but Sizhui presses as close as he can anyway. Jingyi loops an arm around Sizhui’s hips, holding him, and nuzzles his face into Sizhui’s hair.  They are sweaty and sticky and will need a bath, but right now Sizhui doesn’t even want to think about moving.

“Jingyi,” Sizhui says, leaning his head back to look up at his lover.

“Mn?”  He looks as blissed out as Sizhui feels, and something a bit like contentment and a bit like satisfaction curls up in Sizhui’s chest.

Still.  

“I’ll do better next time.”

Jingyi looks genuinely confused.  “What?”

“You ended up doing all the work,” Sizhui says.    

“Sizhui-”

“It’s just that you're so good at it, and I can’t think about anything else!” Sizhui says.

Jingyi is grinning at him, and it is not at all the reaction he expected.

“Sizhui,” Jingyi says.  “Don’t worry about it.”

But it’s not that easy for Sizhui to set aside now that he’s worrying.  

“I will do better,” he promises, but Jingyi shakes his head.

“Oh, A-Yuan,” he says, gently tugging Sizhui’s ponytail.  “Just enjoy it.”

“But-”

“No buts.  I want you to forget about everything else.  I want to give you pleasure, so let me.”

“But, what about you?  I want you to enjoy it too.” Sizhui’s still frowning slightly.

“Sizhui,” Jingyi says, clearly amused.  “Do you honestly think I didn’t enjoy that?”

His brain flashes to the feeling of Jingyi’s cock in his hand as he came and the sound of him swearing and saying Sizhui’s name.  

“No, I don’t think that.”

“Good,” Jingyi says. Then, more quietly, “let me take care of you, for once.”

Sizhui still isn’t convinced, and it’s his partner can clearly read it in his expression.

“Have affection and gratefulness, Sizhui," he says with a smirk, and teasingly tugs Sizhui’s ponytail again.

“One should not be greedy, Jingyi,” Sizhui says with mock seriousness.

“Harmony is a virtue,” Jingyi says and kisses him.

“Mn…”

Chapter Text

And take everything I have
Till there is nothing left
Till it's just your voice in my head

Seated on the floor at a small desk, Sizhui neatly seals the letter he’s been writing.  He puts away his inkstone and calligraphy brush and stores the letter in his qiankun bag before looking up from his task.  

Across the room, Jingyi is stripping off his outer robes.  He’s been training, causing strands of his dark hair to escape his ponytail and the thin fabric of his undershirt to cling slightly to his damp skin.

Becoming aware of Sizhui’s attention, Jingyi glances up, pausing momentarily halfway through haphazardly folding his clothes.  Sizhui feels a faint warmth in his cheeks, but it’s only an echo of the embarrassment he would have felt not that long ago.  He’s allowed to look now.

Smirking at Sizhui, Jingyi pulls his undershirt off and tosses it aside.  Sizhui’s gaze lingers on his exposed chest for a long moment before snapping up to his face. Nearly undressed, wearing only pants and Sizhui’s forehead ribbon tied around his arm, he is incredibly tempting.

Sizhui’s gaze wanders over Jingyi’s form as he pads across the room towards him.  

“I have an idea,” Sizhui says and looks up into Jingyi’s face.

“Yeah?” Jingyi asks, giving him a curious look.  “Am I going to like this idea?”

“I hope so,” Suzhui says with a slow smile spreading across his lips.

“That type of idea, then.” 

Jingyi smirks as he walks around the table.  He settles in behind Sizhui, sweeping aside his hair to expose the line of his neck before pressing his lips to the sliver of his shoulder exposed by his loose-fitting inner robes.  

“Mn.” Sizhui hums, tilting his head to give Jingyi better access to his shoulder.

“Do you have any idea,” Jingyi whispers against his skin, “how tempting you are?”  

He braces one hand on the table, caging Sizhui, but careful not to press against his injured back.  

“Me?” Sizhui asks, in slight disbelief, “like this?”

True temptation is Jingyi, half-dressed as he is, with the body of a martial god on display.  Sizhui knows that he’s considered attractive, but dressed as he is now, in his under robes, he has neither the polish of his usual composed appearance nor the allure of exposed skin.

“Yes,” Jingyi says, and his voice is low, rough, affected. “You, just like this.”

Jingyi’s lips ghost up Sizhui’s throat, and Sizhui has to resist the urge to lean back into him.

“You are wondering why,” Jingyi says, “aren’t you?” 

“Mn,” Sizhui hums his agreement, slightly distracted from the words as Jingyi settles his hand on Sizhui’s thigh and slowly trails it higher.

“Because,” Jingyi says, lips brushing against Sizhui’s skin as he talks, “this is the real you.  You usually wear your clothes like armor or a costume.  It’s not that you don’t look good, because you do.  You really do.  You look almost perfect, enough to steal anyone’s breath away, but you are trying to be the Sizhui that you think everyone else wants you to be.  I know you think that’s the better version of you.  But I like you, like this, way more.”

Sizhui swallows hard; whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t that, and he doesn’t have the right words to respond.  He turns around so that they’re facing each other.

“Gods, I love you,” he says and kisses Jingyi before he has time to respond, but Sizhui doesn’t need to hear the words after what Jingyi had just said.  Jingyi murmurs ‘I love you’ against his lips anyway.

Leaning into the kiss, Sizhui braces his hands on Jingyi’s thighs, feeling the hard line of muscle.  Jingyi’s hand is in his hair, but it is not pulling or urging.  Sizhui only meant the kiss to express his feelings, not as a prelude to something, so he pulls back after a few moments. 

“I want to hear this idea of yours,” Jingyi asks, eyes bright.

“Jingyi,” Sizhui says and forces himself to keep eye contact even though he can feel his face heating up.  “I want you to make love to me.”

The hunger that flashes across Jingyi’s expression is unmistakable, but it’s followed by flickers of reservation and doubt. Sizhui pushes onward.  Reaching out, he twines his arms around Jingyi’s neck and climbs into his lap, his robes sliding up his legs as he straddles Jingyi’s hips. Jingyi’s hands come up to rest on Sizhui’s hips, steadying him, then linger for a moment over the line of his leg.

“We can do it just like this,” Sizhui says, not looking away, “and my back should be fine.”

“Sizhui,” Jingyi almost breathes his name.  Desire and worry are clearly written across his features, and Sizhui forces himself to face it.  “Are you sure?”

“I spend quite a bit of time like this,” Sizhui says, and the corner of Jingyi’s lip quirks up in amusement. “I should be fine.”

“And if it hurts?” Jingyi asks, and it’s obvious how much effort it’s taking to maintain his self-control, to be careful.  It means a lot to him that Jingyi, who is naturally so spontaneous and carefree by nature, is taking so much care with him.  But right now, careful is decidedly not what he wants.

“If it’s a problem, we will stop,” Sizhui says.  There’s still a hint, but only a hint, of reservation on Jingyi’s face, and behind that paper-thin wall is a hunger that matches Sizhui’s own.  It’s probably because he’s not confident that Sizhui will actually stop them if he is in pain, and if it was all up to Sizhui, he might be right, but it’s not just him.  “I understand that you will be upset if you hurt me.  That’s not what I want for us, for our first time.  So we will stop.”

Sizhui can see the exact moment that Jingyi’s reservations give way.  Less than a heartbeat later, his hands are on Sizhui’s ass and jerking him closer.   Sizhui lets himself be moved, presses their chests together, and twines one hand into Jingyi’s hair.

“Yes,” Jingyi says, kissing the nearest part of Sizhui he can find, which is his collarbone.  “Yes,” he says again, fingers gripping Sizhui hard enough to make Sizhui’s heart jump in anticipation.  “Oh, gods yes. I want you”

A bright grin spreads across Sizhui’s face, and he peppers kisses across Jingyi’s face until he’s laughing.  The sound is carefree and bubbly and so incredibly dear to Sizhui’s heart.  He has loved Jingyi’s laugh since the first time he heard it ringing through the courtyard in the Cloud Recesses.  

Jingyi cradles Sizhui’s face in his hand to keep him still long enough to kiss him properly, and Sizhui can taste the laughter lingering on his lips.  

“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?” Jingyi asks when he pulls back.  He sounds almost surprised.

“Jingyi,” Sizhui says, with the tiniest amount of exasperation, “I want you.”

He kisses Jingyi hard, and drags his hands over Jingyi’s shoulders and down his arms; his thumbs tracing the hard line of his biceps.  Sizhui has wanted this for a long time, and Jingyi never saw it, still doesn’t seem to sometimes.  But Jingyi has never been able to see himself the way Sizhui sees him.  Sizhui presses himself tighter against Jingyi so that he can feel the way he affects Sizhui.  Over these weeks, Sizhui has done everything to show Jingyi how he feels.  He’s not great with these types of words, but maybe he needs to try.  

“I have wanted you for a long time,” Sizhui says. 

Jingyi’s breath catches in his chest ever so slightly, but Sizhui can feel it.

“So yes, I think about you a lot.  I think about the way you touch me.  I think about the ways I want you to touch me.  I think about having sex with you.  I think about all the things we could do.  And I have for years. ”

“Sizhui,” Jingyi says, and it’s almost a moan.  He presses his face into the crook of Sizhui’s neck as if he’s embarrassed, but he is definitely interested; Sizhui can feel his cock getting harder and his grip on Sizhui growing more urgent.

“I used to imagine that we’d come back after a night hunt, and you’d push me up against the wall and kiss me,” Sizhui admits.  It’s slightly embarrassing to say it aloud, but when Jingyi lets out the tiniest moan at the admission, Sizhui thinks he might be onto something.  

“I wish I had,” Jingyi whispers.  

“You used to drive me crazy, Jing-er.  Do you know that?” 

Jingyi shakes his head the tiniest bit.

“You did,” Sizhui says, running his hands over the muscles of Jingyi’s back.  “When you were in our room, half-dressed.  I wanted to touch you.  I wanted to kiss you.  I wanted to feel your body against mine.”  

Sizhui moves, grinding slightly against Jingyi’s cock.  Jingyi’s hips jerk, and he gasps into Sizhui’s neck.  

“Do you have any idea how much I wanted you?  The things I wanted to do with you?” Sizhui asks.

“Tell me, Sizhui,” Jingyi whispers.  His face is still against Sizhui, but he runs his hands up Sizhui’s thighs, the fabric bunching up under his hands.  “Tell me everything you ever imagined.”

The next breath Sizhui takes is slightly shaky.  He can do this.

“When you study, you bite your lip.  I wanted to kiss you, to climb into your lap just like I am right now.”  That’s not enough.

“I loved watching your hands when you were training,” Sizhui says, as Jingyi’s hands move higher on his thighs, “I used to wonder what they’d be like on my bare skin, in my hair, if they would wrap as nicely around my dick as they did around the hilt of your sword.”  His face flushes hot at the admission, but Jingyi palms his cock, and Sizhui’s embarrassment dissipates instantly.  His hand feels hot, even through the layers, as he strokes up and down.

“After the Cold Pond,” Sizhui says, eyes closed as he remembers it.  The Cold Pond with Jingyi had been a special torture for him.  He’d looked so perfect: shirtless, with sunlight shimmering on his damp skin, the fabric of his pants gone sheer from the water and clinging to his legs.  “The line of your cock against your pants, wondering what it would feel like in my hand—what it would taste like.”

There’s a soft moan from Jingyi, as he kisses his way along Sizhui’s neck. His hands move to the ties of Sizhui’s robes as he talks, starting to untie them.

“In our room at night, I’d imagine you coming to my bed and telling me all the things you wanted to do to me.  Imagined you fucking me, there in the dark.”

Jingyi’s motions are urgent as he starts to push Sizhui’s robes off his shoulders.  

“Seeing your back,” Sizhui says, running his hands over the planes of it and feeling the coiled tension in his frame, “when you took off your shirt and wondering how it would look if I fucked you from behind.”  

He’s never mentioned making love to Jingyi, and he wonders for a moment if Jingyi will oppose the idea, but the sound he makes is anything but rejection.  His hands linger over Sizhui’s bare skin as the fabric falls away.

“I’d think about you interrupting me when I was studying to bend me over the desk and take me.”

Jingyi growls , and Sizhui’s whole body tenses in anticipation.    

“I think,” Jingyi says, and finally looks up at Sizhui, his eyes dark with desire, “that you would look amazing bent over a table.”

Jingyi kisses him then, hard and hot: his tongue sliding into Sizhui’s mouth and his hand gripping Sizhui’s hair and pulling.  Sizhui lets him lead, melting against him.  Jingyi kisses him breathless, not pulling away until both of them are panting.

“I also think,” Jingyi says, “that we have a table right here.”

“Yes,” Sizhui breathes, eyes bright.  

Sizhui slides off Jingyi’s lap towards the table, and Jingyi’s hands flip him over even as he scrambles to do it himself.  Jingyi’s touch is urgent, more forceful than he usually allows himself, and it makes Sizhui slightly giddy with excitement. His hands slam into the table with a thud as he braces himself, and Jingyi pauses, probably realizing how rough he’s being.  But Sizhui is not fragile, and he does not pause as he slides his knees apart and lowers himself from his hands to his elbows.  

“I was right,” Jingyi says, bracing one hand on the table, leaning over Sizhui, and pressing his lips to the nape of Sizhui’s neck.  “You look great like this.”

Sizhui’s response gets caught in his throat as his whole body becomes aware of the way Jingyi is leaning over him, not quite touching him, but trapping him nonetheless.  A needy sound escapes Sizhui; he wants this.  He wants Jingyi caging him; he wants Jingyi to press him into the table.  But he can feel the way the position strains his back and pulls uncomfortably at his scars and knows he’ll have to wait. 

Jingyi grins at his reaction.  They aren’t touching, except for Jingyi’s lips against his skin, and Sizhui’s whole body feels like a live wire, desperately awaiting connection.  When Jingyi’s free hand touches his waist, he jerks slightly, letting out a small gasp which gives way to tiny shivers as Jingyi’s hand slides from Sizhui’s waist down to his hip and his callouses rasp slightly against his skin.

Jingyi settles himself between Sizhui’s legs, and his erection presses against Sizhui’s ass.  Sizhui whines and tries to rock back, but Jingyi’s hand stops him.

“One day,” Jingyi says, squeezing Sizhui’s hip, “I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Sizhui says.  He meant to say it light, teasing, but it comes out breathy.

“Good.”

Then Jingyi pulls back, no longer leaning over Sizhui, and Sizhui bites back a whimper as he leaves.  Of course, he’s not actually going anywhere, but Sizhui misses the closeness, the intensity of his presence.  

Silk slides across Sizhui’s skin as Jingyi pushes his pants off his hips, shoving them out of the way and down to his knees before fitting his hand over the curve of Sizhui’s ass and squeezing.  Sizhui can feel the weight of Jingyi’s attention as a physical thing, as he pauses to admire for a moment. It’s a weight, but Jingyi doesn’t give Sizhui’s insecurities time to grow into a burden.

At the sensation of Jingyi’s slick finger against him, Sizhui lets out a long breath, trying to let the tension and excitement bleed out of his muscles, and he feels Jingyi’s finger slip into him. 

“Perfect,” Jingyi says, “just like that.”

With the praise curling like warmth in Sizhui’s stomach, he lets out a small sigh.  The pace Jingyi sets is slow, almost languorous, and it’s entirely at odds with the excitement racing through Sizhui’s veins.  Moments ago, Jingyi’s frantic energy had matched his, but he seems to have tempered it, as he always does.  Jingyi does this every time, with his hands or with his mouth, always going slow almost teasing, until Sizhui’s ready to snap; Jingyi seems to enjoy it.

Even when Jingyi adds a second finger, he keeps his pace, hand gripping Sizhui’s hip to stop him from fucking himself on Jingyi’s hands. Once again, he leans over Sizhui, bracing his hand on the desk by Sizhui’s head, caging him.

“So eager,” Jingyi says, and Sizhui can hear his smirk.  

“Yes,” Sizhui says.  There’s no point in trying to deny it, and Sizhui finds, as he speaks the words, that he’s not embarrassed.

“I like it,” Jingyi says, pressing his lips to the bare skin of Sizhui’s shoulder.  

Pleasure fizzles down Sizhui’s spine, making him moan and tremble, as Jingyi moves his hand.

“I like seeing you like this,” he whispers, sending another wave of pleasure through Sizhui’s body with his fingers.  “You are so perfect.  I love you.”

He continues to finger Sizhui, opening him up and whispering in his ear until Sizhui’s trembling and gasping.  Jingyi’s hand keeps him steady, but Sizhui pushes against his hold, silently asking for more, but never breaking his grip.  Jingyi adds a third finger, and Sizhui’s breath catches at the stretch and burn of it.

“Relax, A-Yuan,” Jingyi’s voice is warm and sweet like honey, and his hand is comforting, anchoring, on his hip.

Sizhui couldn’t disobey even if he wanted to.  When he presses his face into his hands and his knees slide further apart, Jingyi makes a pleased sound, and Sizhui feels himself melting further.

“God,” Jingyi says, and his voice is rougher, more strained than it had been before, “You open up so well. Imagine how well you can take my cock.”

Sizhui gasps partly in surprise and partly with lust.  He’s imagined exactly this time and time again, and he wants it right now.  

“Jingyi,” he gasps, “ Jingyi. ” 

“Not yet,” he says, but his pace is more desperate as he thrusts his fingers into Sizhui.  And Sizhui, still panting and trembling, rocks his hips and meets every one of his thrusts, his breath catching slightly each time.  The heat is pooling under his skin, and all he can think about is Jingyi fucking him.  But Jingyi keeps working him open with his fingers.

“Jingyi,” Sizhui complains.  He doesn’t have to hunt through the haze to put together more words; Jingyi understands him, as he so often does without words.

“Yes,” Jingyi says, and he sounds breathless himself.  He scissors his fingers one last time before pulling out completely.  Sizhui has to bite his lip to keep in a whine.

“Come here.” Jingyi’s hands are on Sizhui’s hips pulling him back even as Jingyi slides away from the table.

Sizhui tries to push himself up, but something on his back pulls, and he pauses.  A moment later, Jingyi’s hand is under his chest, supporting him as he pulls himself upright before turning him around.  

Sizhui is reaching out for Jingyi before he’s completely turned around, wrapping an arm around his neck and then climbing into his lap.  Sizhui’s lips find Jingyi’s, kissing him urgently and licking into Jingyi’s mouth, as he presses their bodies together.  

He can feel the frantic pace of Jingyi’s heart, where their chests touch, matching his own.  It’s Jingyi who breaks the kiss, breathing hard, and lips pink.

“You’re going to have to move for a second,” Jingyi tells him, sounding faintly amused despite the breathless tone of his voice.  Sizhui blinks, uncomprehending so Jingyi wiggles his hips slightly, and Sizhui realizes that he hadn’t given Jingyi time to actually take his pants off.  

“Also,” Jingyi says, glance over his shoulder at the bed several feet away.  

Sizhui doesn’t look at the bed.  Instead, he turns his attention to the ties of Jingyi’s pants.  For a moment he fumbles with the ties, and then, with a flash of urgency, he grabs the fabric and rips it.  Tightly woven silk isn’t easy to tear, but Lan arm strength isn’t unique to Jingyi.

Jingyi’s gaze snaps back to Sizhui as the fabric gives way.  Sizhui closes his hand on his lover’s cock, running his thumb through the precum on the head and making Jingyi’s whole body tremble for a moment.

Giving up entirely on the idea of making it to the bed, Jingyi turns, moving both of them, and hurriedly searches for the lube, knocking the calligraphy brushes off the table in the process- not that either of them cares or particularly notices.  

Sizhui slides now slick fingers over his partner’s erection, as Jingyi rearranges their position slightly.  Then Jingyi’s hands are back on Sizhui’s hips urging him up.  

Obediently, Sizhui repositions himself and braces his hands on Jingyi’s shoulders.  He pauses for a moment, looking down at Jingyi in a pose that exactly mirrors that earlier moment:

We can do it just like this.  

Jingyi’s eyes are dark with desire as he looks up at Sizhui, but he doesn't move, doesn’t pull Sizhui down; he waits for Sizhui to take the lead, so he does. Sizhui’s fingers dig into Jingyi’s shoulders, as he lowers himself onto his lover’s cock.  A strong hand on his waist guides him down.  Even though he knows what’s coming, he still gasps as Jingyi’s cock presses into him.  Jingyi took his sweet time to finger him, but it still feels almost too tight.  

“Relax,” Jingyi says, pressing kisses to Sizhui’s chest, and rubbing comforting circles into his hip.  He holds both of them still, stopping Sizhui from taking any more.  

Sizhui takes several shuddering breaths; his heart is pounding in his ears and his brain is stumbling over the fact that they’re actually doing this.  He looks down at Jingyi, at the searing expression in his grey eyes, and the fire in his expression ignites something inside of Sizhui. 

His hands tighten instinctively, and he sits, taking more of Jingyi’s dick as he does so. The firm grip on his waist stops him from taking too much too quickly. 

As Sizhui finishes sinking down on Jingyi’s cock, hot and hard, he looks into Jingyi’s eyes. His gaze is burning, and his mouth has gone slightly slack, his breath coming out harsh from between his lips. 

“Sizhui,” he groans, fingers digging into Sizhui’s skin, “gods, Sizhui.” 

A soft, punched out sound leaves Sizhui when he’s fully seated, and Jingyi’s eyelids flutter.

“Good?” Jingyi asks.

“Yes,” Sizhui says, a bright grin spreading across his face because Jingyi is actually here, actually his, actually fucking him.  Jingyi grins right back.  That smile; it’s irresistible and so Sizhui doesn’t even try, capturing his lips in an urgent open-mouthed kiss.  

One of Jingyi’s hands curls into his hair, locking their lips together, as Sizhui raises himself up until he’s almost off Jingyi’s cock and then drops back down.

“Fuck!” Jingyi gasps into the kiss and his hips jerk.  “You. Are. Dangerous,” he pants, looking at Sizhui with wide eyes as Sizhui continues to move on his cock.  

With Jingyi’s hands holding him, guiding him, Sizhui lets his eyes fall closed, and his fingers dig into the hard muscle of Jingyi’s shoulders.  He shifts his hips, desperately searching for that spark from earlier.  Jingyi moves under him, adjusting their position, and when he bottoms out, Sizhui sees stars.  He gasps, any rhythm that he had momentarily falling apart.  But Jingyi helps him, effortlessly lifting him up and guiding him down.  Together, they fall into a rhythm as Sizhui rides Jingyi’s cock.  

Sizhui wants to fuck himself on Jingyi’s cock harder, faster, to chase the pleasure building under his skin.  But Jingyi doesn’t let him, keeping the pace torturously slow.  The way Jingyi holds him, controls him, is enough to make Sizhui whimper, but he wants him to go faster.

Under him, Jingyi is unusually quiet except for the rapid sound of his breathing, and Sizhui looks down at him.  But any worries he had that Jingyi wasn’t enjoying this evaporates at the expression on Jingyi’s face as he watches Sizhui.  Sizhui has never seen an expression quite like this on his face; he looks like he wants to devour Sizhui.  A shudder runs down Sizhui’s spine; he wants to be devoured.  

But, he looks too in control; Sizhui wants to see him gasping and trembling; he wants Jingyi to feel as good as he does.

“Jingyi, is it? Is it good?” He realizes he needs to hear it.

“So good,” Jingyi says, voice rough, more affected than Sizhui expected.  “It’s perfect, ah-”

Sizhui’s question seemed to have broken a dam because the words pour out of Jingyi’s lips.  

“It feels amazing.  So tight and- uh fuck- hot.  You’re doing so good, so -ah.  You’re taking me so well.  Look at you. So- fuck- perfect.”

Sizhui moans, Jingyi’s words urging him onward.  He likes to hear Jingyi, he realizes; his compliments send happy fizzles through Sizhui’s whole system. 

The pleasure builds and builds under Sizhui’s skin, but the pace is still so slow, he desperately wants more; no, he needs more.  And he is strong enough to break Jingyi’s grip, to fuck himself as hard as he wants, but he doesn’t want to give up the way Jingyi is manhandling him, controlling him. 

“Jing-er please,” Sizhui says, begging.   

“Please, what?” Jingyi asks, voice low, mouthing the heated skin of Sizhui’s chest, nipping at his throat.  “What do you want, Sizhui.”

“More,” he says, and then, “faster.”

When Sizhui comes down, Jingyi thrusts up to meet him, and Sizhui practically sobs, “please!”

Jingyi doesn’t give him a verbal answer, but Sizhui feels the way his hands tighten on Sizhui’s hips, and he shifts.  The next moment, Jingyi is pushing into him faster, and Sizhui sobs.  Every time he comes down, Jingyi fucks up into him hard.  

This.   This was what he wanted.  He cries out, hands scrambling against the planes of Jingyi’s back, leaving red marks in their wake.  Jingyi’s breath grows erratic, and Sizhui’s head falls back, as he loses himself in the sensation of Jingyi taking him, in the pleasure searing through him with every thrust.

“Fuck,” Jingyi swears, “Sizhui!”

He releases his hold on Sizhui, hand sliding against the floor to the table, trying to steady himself as he fucks up into Sizhui.  His breathing is harsh in Sizhui’s ears, breaking into moans on the exhale.

“You’re so- fuck- good.  I’m so close- Sizhui!”

Sizhui gasps.  Jingyi is not the only one who’s close.  Sizhui is on the edge, ready to tumble into the fire.  The thought that Jingyi might come, might stop fucking him, now almost makes him sob.  “Please, Jingyi,  I’m- almost-” He can’t seem to string together his words.

Jingyi swears again, and then the sound of cracking wood fills the air.  Sizhui’s eyes fly open in surprise.  Jingyi’s eyes are closed, his body trembling and he searches for control. His hand had clenched on the wood of the table hard enough that it shattered.

Sizhui comes suddenly and almost silently as his breath catches hard in his chest, losing himself entirely for a moment.  He doesn’t see Jingyi’s eyes snap open, or the expression on his face when he comes buried deep in Sizhui.  But he hears the way he cries out Sizhui’s name and feels the way the orgasm overtakes his whole body: his cock throbbing and his body shaking.

Sizhui takes a deep, shuddering breath, trying to get enough air into his lungs, and looks at Jingyi.  He’s looking back at Sizhui with a half-lidded expression, and he’s leaning heavily on his arm to keep both of them upright.  

Slowly, Jingyi sinks back on his arm, until he’s lying against the ground, unwilling or unable to continue to keep himself upright.

“I think,” he says, still breathing hard, “that I like your ideas.”  He opens his arms in a silent invitation for Sizhui to lay down against him.

Sizhui tries, but his legs are trembling too hard from the aftershock of his orgasm, making him unsteady, and he can’t just slump down against Jingyi’s chest because of his back.  Jingyi seems to notice his struggle because he reaches out to help him, supporting his weight and helping him lay down.  

“You are amazing,” Sizhui says into the crook of Jingy’s neck once he’s more or less collapsed on top of him.  Jingyi trails a hand lazily through Sizhui’s hair, and it makes him feel even more sleepy.

“That was amazing,” Jingyi corrects, and then “you are amazing.”

“I said it first,” Sizhui says more out of habit than anything.

Jingyi huffs out a small laugh. “I love you, Sizhui.”

“Love you,” Sizhui says, nuzzling against Jingyi’s neck.  

“Sleepy?” Jingyi asks, still petting Sizhui’s head.

“Mn.”

“It’s not your bedtime yet,” Jingyi says.  

“Close enough,” Sizhui says, and Jingyi laughs.

“No sleep quite yet, A-Yuan,” Jingyi says, starting to move.  Sizhui whines and opens his eyes to see what Jingyi is doing.  He hadn’t even realized that he’d closed them.  

“Stay,” Sizhui says, pressing his face against Jingyi’s shoulders.

Jingyi chuckles but doesn’t try to get up again.  Jingyi’s body heat seems to be seeping into him, leaving him warm and relaxed, like sitting next to a fire in the winter.  Despite that, he starts to notice the sweat drying on his skin, and he’s sticky.

“I need a bath,” he says, and he really does, but right now he has no desire to move.  He should move, but he doesn’t.

“Give me a minute,” Jingyi says.  Curious, Sizhui opens his eyes again. Jingyi looks as relaxed and syrupy as Sizhui feels, but he seems to be gathering himself.

Jingyi sits up, and Sizhui instinctively wraps his arms around Jingyi’s neck as he’s moved.

“Up we go,” Jingyi says, holding Sizhui close and getting to his feet in a rather impressive display of strength and agility.

“Oh!” Sizhui squeaks in surprise as he’s rapidly lifted.  Jingyi moves easily as if Sizhui weighs no more than a baby.  And Sizhui, Sizhui melts into his embrace, enjoying the weightless feeling. 

“I could walk,” Sizhui says, but it’s a token resistance, and he makes absolutely no move to get down.  

“Probably,” Jingyi says with a smile.  “But you don’t want to.”

Sizhui can’t exactly deny that, so he doesn’t bother to try.  Jingyi, of course, understands his lack of response and makes a small amused sound.  

Kneeling next to the bath, Jingyi writes, somewhat clumsily given that he’s still balancing Sizhui with one arm, a talisman on the side of the tub, and soon, the water starts to steam faintly.  

Jingyi attempts to lift Sizhui off of his lap and into the bath, but he clings.

“Join me,” he says, refusing to be put down.

“That tub was not built for two grown men,” Jingyi says.

“We’ll manage,” Sizhui says.  He had been thinking about it earlier today, actually, and he’s pretty sure they will fit, even if they can’t move around much.  And right now, he wants Jingyi and the comfort of his skin even more than the hot water.  

“Sizhui,” Jingyi sighs.

“ Jingyi.”

“You aren’t going to give up on this are you?” Jingyi asks, but he’s already standing up to step into the tub.

“No.”

“Well,” he says, stepping over the side and into the water.  “Help me out here, since this is your idea.”

Sizhui obeys, moving and taking his own weight while Jingyi arranges himself in the bath.  As Sizhui had guessed, they do both fit in the bath with him on Jingyi’s lap, though there’s not much room to move.  

In the warmth, Jingyi seems to melt, sinking down as far as he can go.  Sizhui understands the feeling.  The hot water eases muscles he hadn’t even known were tense, and he realizes there’s a dull ache across most of his back. He hadn’t even noticed it before, but all the action clearly had an effect.

Sizhui wants to be annoyed at it, but he’s too relaxed, too sleepy, and too comfortable to properly summon the feeling.

He’ll deal with it later, for now, he simply lets himself melt against his lover, resting his head on Jingyi’s shoulder.  For now, he’s content and happy, and not even the vicious wounds on his back can take that away from him.

The water starts to cool off, and they’re forced to move.  Jingyi helps Sizhui wash his hair even though his back has healed enough that he can do it by himself.  Sizhui doesn’t complain; in fact, he relaxes in the warmth of Jingyi’s attention. 

Jingyi gently pushes Sizhui out of the bath to sit on the edge with a towel.  Jingyi starts to wash his own hair with his usual carelessness, but Sizhui stops him, taking over the task.  Despite his fatigue, he’s careful and thorough as he works free the knots in Jingyi’s hair and then washes it.

Once Jingyi’s out of the bath and dry, he drops a kiss on the top of Sizhui’s head.  Sizhui leans against him, still sitting on the not so comfortable edge of the tub.  

“Come on,” Jingyi says, softly, pulling Sizhui up and onto his feet.  Gently he heards a sleepy Sizhui in the direction of the bed.  Jingyi flops down into the bed first, taking his usual side against the wall, and opens up his arms for Sizhui, who crawls into the bed and lays with his head on Jingyi’s shoulder.

Once the blankets are situated, Jingyi tightens his arm around Sizhui, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his forehead.  Sizhui hums happily, his eyes closing as he presses his face into the crook of Jingyi’s neck.  

“How is your back?” Jingyi asks him, running a hand up and down his side.  Sizhui hums softly as he debates an answer.  To him, the ache is nothing, but he knows that his partner feels differently.

“Alright,” he says, then because Jingyi would want to know, “some soreness that I didn’t realize till after the hot water.”

“Mn,” Jingyi says.  He rests his fingers against the acupoint in Sizhui’s neck and a wave of spiritual energy like an icy mountain river rushes through him, soothing the pain.

Sizhui sighs, slumping even more against Jingyi as the last of the tension eases from his muscles. 

“Thank you,” Sizhui whispers.

“No need,” Jingyi says, as he always does.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” Sizhui says, softly.  Jingyi opens his mouth to protest, but Sizhui stops him with a kiss.

“I love you, Jing-er, more than anything.”

“I love you too, A-Yuan… more than anything.”

Chapter Text

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

“Jingyi, what’s wrong?” Sizhui asks once they are alone.  He’s been silent since they escaped the conversation with the Ouyang Baling cultivators.  Or perhaps it’s been since they overheard them gossiping, heard their snide comments about someone from a good family like Lan Sizhui associating with a rogue cultivator, with someone who might have been kicked out of a sect.  It’s the first time they’ve been around other cultivators in a while, but certainly not the last since they are on their way to Baling to visit Zizhen.

“I’m sorry,” Jingyi says, shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

Sizhui frowns.  “What?”

“I’m damaging your reputation,” he says, pushing his hair out of his face.  “Even more than I was before, that is.”

“I don’t care,” Sizhui says. 

“You’ve always cared about your reputation, Sizhui.  It matters to you.”

Sizhui considers his next words carefully.  Jingyi is not wrong that Sizhui has always taken care to maintain his reputation, but he’s not exactly correct either.

“I care that I reflect well on Hanguang-jun and Gusu Lan.  I want to be worthy of the sacrifices that Hanguang-jun and Senior Wei made.”  Jingyi’s brow furrows, and he opens his mouth, but Sizhui holds up a hand to stop him.  “I want to make Hanguang-jun, Zewu-jun, and Lan-Laoshi proud.  I do not care what these random cultivators think, especially if they are too stupid to see your value.”

There is doubt in Jingyi’s eyes, and it’s familiar to Sizhui.  Jingyi has carried it since Sizhui was old enough to recognize what it was.  It is usually hidden behind his boldness and his vibrance, but it has always been there, and Sizhui has wanted to drive it away his entire life.

“I love you,” Sizhui says, gently stroking his bangs out of his face.  Jingyi’s grey eyes soften.

“I love you too.”  The tiniest hint of a smile appears at the corner of his lips.

Leaning forward, Sizhui presses their lips together, gentle and sweet.

“I love you,” he says again, quietly into the space where their breaths mix.

“Sizhui?”

Sizhui silences him with another kiss, a little less soft this time.  Raising a hand, he runs a thumb along the sharp line of Jingyi’s jaw.  He’s grown into the Lan features over the years, with high cheekbones and a jawline fit to be carved from jade.  He’s so beautiful it takes Sizhui’s breath away at times, and he doesn’t see it.  

“You,” he says, pushing himself onto his toes to kiss his nose and then his forehead, where the ribbon once would have been, “are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.  You are clever and bold.  You are vibrant and funny.  You are so, so good, and I love you more than anything.”  

He feels Jingyi’s breath catch where their bodies are pressed together, and Sizhui kisses him before he can recover and protest.  Jingyi’s face is cradled in his hand, and his thumb strokes the line under his cheekbone.  His features are more familiar to Sizhui than his own, but still, he wants more.  He wants to touch Jingyi until his fingers remember the shape of him without prompting. 

When he pulls back, Jingyi looks at him with wide gray eyes.  There is so much in his expression: affection, confusion, appreciation, that sliver of doubt, and something fragile.

It’s unbearable to Sizhui, the doubt in Jingyi’s eyes when he is beautiful, good, and deserving of the world.  Sizhui supposes that he has the rest of his life to show him that he is loved and deserving of love.  And he will start today, here, now.  He will worship his body until he learns to love it for himself.  Until he does, he will have to love Jingyi enough for the both of them.  

Sizhui leans in and kisses Jingyi again, with intent this time.  His hands move to Jingyi’s chest and across his broad shoulders with deliberate appreciation.  He’s wanted for so long to touch Jingyi like this, to feel the solid, steady, strength of him, that he often loses himself in his own eagerness, but today he resolves to do better.  

One of Jingyi’s hands is on his waist and the other curled at the back of his neck, holding him close and pulling him closer as if he had any desire at all to pull away.  Sizhui’s hands rest on Jingyi’s waist, holding tight enough to feel the line of his body through the layers of fabric, and focusing on the kiss and on Jingyi’s body against his, savoring the moment.

Sizhui has never been greedy in his life, except in this, in his want of Jingyi.  He wants Jingyi: all of him, and all to himself.  It’s a feeling that Sizhui keeps a tight leash on, but right now, he eases his hold and lets Jingyi see the way that Sizhui wants him.  Freeing Jingyi’s hair from its ponytail, he runs his fingers through the silk of it, tangles his hand into it, and holds. His other hand curls around Jingyi’s belt, not quite willing to give up his hold on Jingyi to get his clothes off, not yet.  

As they kiss, Sizhui presses himself against Jingyi, wanting to feel the lines of his body with every inch of his own.  When he drags himself away from the kiss, it’s to undress him.  He doesn’t think he could ever grow tired of kissing, and it’s not boredom, but desire that pulls him away.  He doesn’t just want this kiss, he wants Jingyi undressed, he wants the touch of his hands, he wants to make love to him.  He wants to be greedy, just for now, and Jingyi doesn’t just allow him but indulges him.  Just as he is now, moving into Sizhui’s touch, reaching out to strip Sizhui free of the layers that make him presentable, reaching out to tug free the ribbon that makes him restrained.  

There is still a thrill to that: the forehead ribbon.  The reminder that he belongs to Jingyi just as his forehead ribbon does.  The feeling of intimacy, he’s long dreamed of, given so easily when Jingyi’s hands touch the silk.  The knowledge that Jingyi wants him as he is, stripped down and unrestrained.

“Beautiful,” Sizhui breathes the word against the heat of his skin as he slips Jingyi’s shirt off of his shoulders.  Because he is.  The last light of the day through the window plays on his fair skin, highlighting the lines of his muscles and casting shadows.  There’s so much Sizhui wants to do, wants to touch and taste, that it’s overwhelming.  The time they’ve had together since that first kiss are not nearly enough.

“Sizhui?” Jingyi asks, as Sizhui stalls, admiring.  

“Hush,” Sizhui says, idly, without really thinking, his hands sliding down Jingyi’s arms.  “Let me.”

Jingyi does.  At first, he stills under Sizhui’s hand as if Sizhui had ordered him to stay still rather than to stay silent, but being Jingyi, he’s not still for very long and quickly returns to the task of stripping free the many layers of Sizhui’s robes.

As Sizhui trails kisses down Jingyi’s neck and along his collarbone, his hands splay over the muscles of Jingyi’s chest, sliding over silk soft skin and admiring the breadth of him, the strength in every hard line of his sculpted chest.  The desire that ripples through him is almost dizzying, and his hands slide lower towards Jingyi’s hips and the hem of his pants which Sizhui wants gone , but he catches himself in his eagerness and moves slower.  

Jingyi comes alive under his hands, and Sizhui wants to commit every bit of it to memory: the way he leans into Sizhui’s touch as if he can’t resist, the feeling of his chest rising and falling ever so slightly faster, the thrum of his racing heart under Sizhui’s lips, the soft sounds that fall from his mouth when Sizhui touches him just right.

Matching Sizhui’s pace, Jingyi’s touch lingers as he undresses Sizhui, hands caressing his body rather than rushing the way they often are and taking extra care with his shoulders and back.  Reluctantly, Sizhui releases his hold on Jingyi long enough to free his arms from his sleeves and leave his robes in a pile on the floor.

Like sunlight on a river, there’s amusement dancing in Jingyi’s gray eyes at Sizhui’s impatience, but the expression only lasts a moment because Sizhui drops to his knees, hands landing on Jingyi’s thighs.  Jingyi’s breath catches hard, and his eyes flash from amused to hungry in a heartbeat.  For an instant, Sizhui’s fingers tense against his legs, catching on the silk of the fabric, and his mouth goes dry.  Oh gods, he wants to.  Then Jingyi’s hand is settling softly on his head, urging him ever so slightly forward.

The thin white silk of the pants hardly hides anything, a fact which Sizhui has both praised and cursed in the past.  Now, though, he focuses on the line of Jingyi’s cock, leaning in until he can taste.  A tremor runs through Jingyi’s whole body even at the small touch, and Sizhui hums in satisfaction.

So many times he’d imagined this, wondered about the weight and shape of his cock, how it would feel in his hands or taste in his mouth.  Not a single one of those furtive thoughts or guilty dreams compared to reality. His slender fingers are quick with the tie of Jingyi’s pants as he gives up any notion of teasing them both and tugs them free.  

Sizhui keeps his one hand spread on Jingyi’s hip as he takes him into his mouth.  His fingers curl around the base where his mouth doesn’t reach.  Jingyi lets out a hard breath, and his hand closes around Sizhui’s ponytail, firm but not pulling.  Sizhui’s eyes fall closed as he lavishes his attention on Jingyi’s cock and balls.  The sound of Jingyi’s breathing goes faster and more ragged as his hand tightens on Sizhui’s hair enough to make him moan.  

Sizhui loves this: the weight of Jingyi on his tongue, the sounds he makes, the way he feels under Sizhui’s hands, every single bit of it.  A part of his brain, a part that’s still logical, wonders why he doesn’t do this more often and vows to do so.  

The rest of him is gone past logic: free of the thoughts, rules, and worries that constantly bind him, that make up so many of the threads of the tapestry that Lan Sizhui.  Freed, and let loose, into a place he can only find with Jingyi.

Opening his eyes, Sizhui looks up at Jingyi and forgets to breathe for a moment.  The sheen of sweat across Jingyi’s skin makes it glimmer in the candlelight, which paints every inch of that perfect, jade fair skin in gold and black.  With each harsh breath, his ab muscles flex as his chest rises and falls, a reminder of the controlled power in every line of his body.  His hair falls around his face as he looks down at Sizhui, his bangs casting deep shadows over his eyes, and the expression on that lovely face as he looks down at Sizhui...

Sizhui whines as his cock twitches, and the hand on Jingyi’s thigh tightens until his fingernails dig into Jingyi’s skin, leaving crescent marks.  Need washes over him like a wave, leaving him slightly dazed and not even knowing what it is exactly that he needs other than more than this.

A smile curls up the corner of Jingyi’s lips, something too sharp to be playful, and he tugs on Sizhui’s ponytail.  Sizhui moans slightly, letting himself be pulled back and off of Jingyi’s cock though there’s no real force behind the motion.

“Come here,” Jingyi says, voice rough.  

Jingyi’s eyes track Sizhui as he gets to his feet, moving with an easy grace entirely his own.  His hand settles on the curve of Sizhui’s waist, fitting as neatly as if it was made to sit there, and hauls him closer with an ease that makes Sizhui breath go shuddery.

Their lips meet for a moment, frantic and eager.

“Tell me what you want, A-Yuan,” Jingyi says, moving his lips to Sizhui's jaw.  As he speaks, his hand slides down to Sizhui’s ass, and he pulls Sizhui towards the bed, moving back step by step, without the pair of them ever needing to separate.

Sizhui’s head tips to the side as his hands curl at the back of Jingyi’s neck, catching strands of dark silk hair.

“You,” Sizhui answers without thought.  

Jingyi smiles, soft lips brushing against Sizhui’s skin with the movement.  He nips at the crook of Sizhui’s neck, not nearly hard enough to bruise or even to hurt, but enough to elicit a tiny moan.

“How do you want me?” Jingyi tries.

Sizhui hums, sorting through the fragmented thoughts, desires, and wants drifting through his mind.  

“Too many ideas?” Jingyi teases, dropping onto the bed and lifting Sizhui, carefully, on top of him.

He’s not wrong at all.  Sizhui’s brain easily conjures dozens of mental images of how he wants to have Jingyi.  His hands tighten in Jingyi’s hair, and he leans down to capture his lips again.

“I could tell you a hundred different ways,” Sizhui murmurs.

“I want to know them all,” Jingyi says against Sizhui’s lips.

He rolls his hips, and Sizhui moans at the unexpected friction on his cock.

“But right now, I want to make love to you,” Sizhui says.  There’s an edge of a question to his phrasing, a bit of uncertainty.  It’s something they haven’t tried- there are so many things they haven’t had time to try.  However, it’s something he’s not sure Jingyi would want.  Everytime there’s something new, the edge of Sizhui’s uncertainty returns.  “If you want?”

“Yes,” Jingyi says easily.  He kisses Sizhui, his hand coming up to cradle his face, a moment of tenderness in answer to Sizhui’s wavering.

“Only if you want,” Sizhui says.  Jingyi has said that he’d give Sizhui anything, everything, if he could, but Sizhui only wants what Jingyi actually wants, not what he’s willing to give.  

“I always want you,” Jingyi says.  It’s a statement, too open and bare to sound cliché.

“That’s not what I asked,” Sizhui says, half-amused.

“Sizhui,” Jingyi says.  “Shut up and fuck me.”

A startled laugh leaves Sizhui’s lips.  

“As you wish.”

Sizhui kisses him again, slow and deep, savoring the taste of him, as he shifts position, untangling their legs and settling between Jingyi’s thighs.  He reaches out blindly for the lube by the bed and locates it after a moment of hunting.

Pushing himself up, Sizhui looks down at Jingyi, reading the expression written on his handsome features.  His lips are still parted and damp from their kiss, and in his eyes, there is nothing but heat.  Satisfied, Sizhui slides back, settling between Jingyi’s legs as they shift open wider, welcoming him.  His hands slide down Jingyi’s torso, taking in the radiant heat of his skin inch by inch.

“Your back going to be okay?” Jingyi asks.

“Should be,” Sizhui says, hardly thinking about it.  He’d happily take the pain, but Jingyi, as ever, worries.  Jingyi doesn’t ask again; he’s getting better at taking Sizhui’s word for it.

Leaning down, Sizhui nips at the line of Jingyi’s hip, making him jump, before tracing the sharp v shape with his tongue as he slides lower.  He traces out the line of Jingyi’s cock as he reaches down to finger him.  He takes his time, gentle and slow as he begins; they’ve tried this before, and Jingyi seems to take longer to relax than Sizhui does, and they have nothing but time.  Still, it’s hard to go slow when Sizhui wants to have Jingyi now, but he’s determined to do this right, to give Jingyi the sort of mind-melting pleasure that Jingyi gives him.

Sizhui wants Jingyi the way his lungs want air and his body wants food.  Heart, soul, and body aligned in the craving for this intimacy, for the salt taste of skin, the press of hands and lips, the radiant heat of their bodies entangled.  Sizhui needs this- the way their bodies say more than words ever could. He hadn’t realized how much he needed this: love that is more than words, love that he can feel on his skin and taste with his mouth.

Having Jingyi under him like this, pleasuring him, watching the arching line of his body and the flex of his muscles, somehow both satisfies his need and sharpens it, leaving him pleased and greedy for more.  

Jingyi moans; he says Sizhui’s name. He says it again and again.  He says it like it’s something holy.  He says it like he, and not Sizhui, is the one worshipping.  Perhaps they both are.  

The low ache in his back distracts Sizhui.  The strain of the only mostly healed tissue becomes more and more until it pushes its way to the front of his thoughts.  Irritation flares, as he reluctantly slides back, tracing Jingyi’s length with his tongue one last time, before sitting up.

“Sizhui? Jingyi asks, breathless.

Sizhui taps Jingyi’s hip as he straightens up, rolling his shoulders and easing the pain in his back.  “Flip over.”

Jingyi obeys instantly and eagerly.  Admiring the change in view, Sizhui runs his hand appreciatively down the length of Jingyi’s spine to the curve of his ass.

“Up,” he says, hands settling on Jingyi’s hips to adjust him.  

Jingyi moves easily under Sizhui’s hands, letting Sizhui move him as he wishes.  His body says ‘I’m yours, however you want me,’ as much as his words do. There’s so much power, so much energy there, and all of it yields under his hands.  It makes Sizhui tremble.

He gets more lube before sliding his fingers back into Jingyi.  Like this, he can watch as he fucks Jingyi with his fingers and imagine his cock sliding in just as easily.  He can’t bite back the needy sound that he makes.  

“Fuck, Sizhui,” Jingyi says, rocking back onto Sizhui’s fingers.  “Please.”

The logical part of Sizhui’s brain says he should take more time, but it’s a small part.  They are perfectly aligned in this; the edge of need in Jingyi’s voice has the same shape as the desire turning Sizhui’s blood to fire.  Sizhui might be able to deny himself something but not Jingyi.

“ Sizhui.”   If Jingyi keeps saying his name like that- a prayer, a moan, and a plea all at once- Sizhui won’t be able to control himself.

“Yes,” Sizhui says, breathy and excited, and then again, “yes.”  

His motions are rushed, impatient, as repositions himself.  Impatience isn’t something Sizhui is used to.  Neither is the desire that burns through his veins like adrenaline, a feeling sharpened by years of wanting into a need sharp enough to cut himself.  It’s unfamiliar territory, but he can’t say he doesn’t like it, and it doesn’t scare him.  Perhaps it should- losing control has always scared him- but not now, not with Jingyi, not in this.

Even though Jingyi has hardly touched him, he’s so hard it hurts, and a small moan leaves his lips as he closes his hand around his length to spread the lube.  With a shaky exhale he leans forward, bracing one hand on Jingyi’s ass and lining himself up.  

He bites his lip as he presses in the tip.  It’s so tight, and he whimpers despite himself.  

Under him, Jingyi’s body is tense, too tense.  Sizhui wishes he could see his face.

“Relax, Jing-er,” Sizhui says, as gently as he can.  Reaching out, Sizhui runs his hand up and down Jingyi’s spine, both comfort and distraction.  

Jingyi lets out a long breath, much of the tension eases from his muscles and his knees slide slightly wider.  Sizhui’s mouth goes dry, and he can’t resist thrusting ever so slightly forward into the heat of Jingyi’s body.  Suddenly, he has much more appreciation for the slow care Jingyi always takes when they begin because he’s practically trembling with the effort of doing this slowly.

“Tell me if I need to stop?” Sizhui says, rocking his hips ever so slightly.

“Don’t stop,” Jingyi says.  His voice is muffled from how he’s pressed his face into his arms but there’s no hint of doubt or discomfort there.

Sizhui lets out a long, shaky breath as he slowly thrusts into the soft warmth of Jingyi’s body.  He keeps a hand on the small of Jingyi’s back, partly as warm comfort and a gentle reminder to relax, but also to gauge the tension in his body.  While this is new, Sizhui has been attuned to Jingyi's body language for almost as long as he can remember, sensitive to even the smallest changes, and he’s grateful for that now.

“You feel so good,” he says, eyes half closing and fingers digging into Jingyi’s hip.  It’s better than he imagined, even better than the feeling of Jingyi’s mouth. 

When he’s bottomed out, he leans down, draping himself over Jingyi and peppering kisses across his back and shoulders as his fingers trace out the curve and dip of his muscles.

“Still good?” Sizhui murmurs against his flushed skin.  He’s certain he is, but he has to check anyway.

“Yeah,” Jingyi says.  “Definitely.  It’s just… odd?”

“I know,” Sizhui says, trailing kisses down his spine now.  He loves Jingyi’s back: the taut lines of muscles that ripple when he moves, the expanses of flawless skin just begging Sizhui to touch and taste.  “It’s going to be good, though.  I promise.”

Mind meltingly, breathtakingly good, if his experience is anything to go by.

“I know,” Jingyi says.  “I trust you.”

Carefully, slowly, Sizhui starts to move.  He shifts his hips and shifts Jingyi, trying to get the angle right.  He knows the instant he does; he can see the reaction surge through Jingyi’s body and feel the way Jingyi tightens on his cock.

“That,” Jingyi pants, “do that again.”

He does it again and again; Jingyi’s breath breaks into a moan, and he presses his face into his arm.  

“Don’t,” Sizhui says, and then slightly more shyly, “I want to hear you.”

Sizhui fucks Jingyi, slowly at first, allowing himself to revel in the tight warmth of his body now that Jingyi is moaning under him.  But quickly the long slow thrusts become faster, and desire and pleasure burn through Sizhui’s body like lightning, searing through his restraint and urging him on.  His breath is coming in pants, his chest heaves, sweat gathers on his skin, and his heart pounds in his ears, but the sound of Jingyi’s gasping moans is what fills his head.  

“Fuck, Sizhui,” Jingyi breathes.  Just the way he says Sizhui’s name makes Sizhui tremble.  He wants to hear that over and over again, to hear it so many times that it loses all sense and only the feeling of it remains.  It’s not just his name on Jingyi’s lips, but the way he says it.  He’d never known his name could sound like that, had never once in all his years of furtive imagining come up with this.

Every single thrust sends Sizhui hurtling towards orgasm.  He bites his lip hard, resisting the tide of sensation that threatens to overwhelm him.  He wants to pleasure his partner, to fuck him until he’s lost in it, and to leave him satisfied and contented, but he’s fighting for control, and Jingyi has always been his weakness.

Sizhui lets go of Jingyi’s hip and curls his fingers around his cock, drawing out a low groan from Jingyi.  Sizhui starts to move his hand in time with his thrusts.  Jingyi swears, and the motion of his hips stutters as he’s caught between thrusting forward into Sizhui’s hand or back onto his cock.  Sizhui loves it.  Loves the way his words get less coherent until he’s saying nothing but Sizhui’s name.

He takes Sizhui so easily now, and Sizhui’s gaze keeps coming back to where their bodies join, to the sight of Jingyi taking him.  Jingyi’s back is slick with sweat that glimmers in the candlelight, and his muscles flex with every single thrust.  It’s so much that Sizhui has to close his eyes to stop himself from coming.  

He recognizes the change in Jingyi’s breathing, the trembling in his legs, and knows he’s about to come.  Sizhui’s eyes fly open, taking in the way that Jingyi arches under him, body going tight as a bowstring as he spills over Sizhui’s hand.  A moment later, before Jingyi is finished, Sizhui follows him over that precipice; a wave crashing against the shore before its predecessor can recede.  Jingyi’s name breaks into a moan on Sizhui’s lips and his legs shake so hard he’s surprised he stays up right.

Jingyi sinks down onto the mattress, head pillowed on his arms, and Sizhui goes with him, sprawled on top and legs still shaky.

“You did so well,” Sizhui says, sweeping Jingyi’s sweat damp hair over his shoulder. He presses lazy kisses to Jingyi’s shoulder, the nape of his neck, every bit of him that he can easily reach, and Jingyi seems to melt a little under him.  “Was it good for you?”  

He strokes Jingyi’s hair free of his face as Jingyi twists to look at him.

“Yes, couldn’t you tell?”  There’s a teasing smile on Jingyi’s face, and he’s still breathing fast.

Sizhui makes an indignant sound and smacks Jingyi’s arm.  “I’m being conscientious.”

Jingyi chuckles and starts to push himself up on his arms with Sizhui still on his back.  His arm flexes under Sizhui’s hand, distracting him.  Sizhui’s hand curls around his bicep, thumb running along the line of the muscle.  Jingyi shrugs his shoulders, jostling Sizhui and getting his attention.

Sighing, Sizhui shuffles to the side, half-toppling onto the bed by Jingyi’s side as he rolls over.  After a small huff, Sizhui sits up and reaches for the cloth on the bedside table to clean up a bit.  Jingyi stretches out on his back, wincing slightly as he does.

There’s no shyness between them as Jingyi wraps an arm around Sizhui’s waist, and Sizhui turns towards him.  There had been, the first few times they’d been completely naked together, but it hadn’t lasted long.  

Sizhui’s gaze trails up Jingyi’s form as he turns to face him, from the long lines of his legs, the sharp cut of his thigh, and up.  Without thinking about it, he reaches out, trailing his fingers slowly up Jingyi’s leg, following the path his eyes had just made.  His hand finally settles on Jingyi’s abs.

“You enjoyed it?” He asks, looking up to Jingyi’s face.

“Yes,” Jingyi says, tugging Sizhui a bit closer, “you did great.”  

“Is it something you’d want to do again?”

“Not right now,” Jingyi says, eyes dancing, “if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I wasn’t-” Sizhui protests.  He knows better than that.

Jingyi just laughs.  “I recognize that expression on your face, Sizhui.”

He reaches out and tugs Sizhui down for a kiss, slow and lazy but with the promise of heat behind it.  

“You aren’t entirely wrong,” Sizhui concedes, pulling away from the kiss just enough to talk.  A slow smile spreads across his lips.  “But, actually, I had a different idea.”

“Yeah?” Jingyi says, hand slipping down from Sizhui’s waist to the curve of his ass.  

“Yeah,” Sizhui says, nipping at Jingyi’s bottom lip.  

“I’m listening,” Jingyi says, pulling Sizhui until he’s less sitting and more lying on Jingyi.

“I want you,” Sizhui says, “I want you inside of me.”

It still feels strange to say things like that, to let the thoughts he’s so carefully kept corralled for years out into the open.  He can feel his face flushing a little hot, but he’s rewarded with the way Jingyi’s breath stalls for a moment and his hand tightens on Sizhui’s ass.  

“Give me thirty minutes,” he says, hand trailing up Sizhui’s side.

“Twenty,” Sizhui says, mostly joking.  He’s not one hundred percent for another round right this instant either.

“I think I can do twenty,” Jingyi says with a smirk, and covers Sizhui’s mouth with his own.