Yixing was watching Yifan pick up each fabric and inspect it thoroughly, sometimes interjecting about how some of the textiles would match up but the consort merely turned back to the materials without a word. The prince had thought of his love, the carrier of his child, when he'd seen the mercer in the city he'd spent the past few months in. It was a feeble ask for forgiveness, Yifan hadn't been pleased about Yixing leaving during his pregnancy and had given the prince the most polite cold shoulder in the world.
"What do you think? Do you have any favourites?" Yixing questioned, his weight tipping onto the balls of his feet and Yifan shrugged noncommittally.
The prince wasn't even embarrassed to be treated in such a manner in front of the textiles specialist and tailor; it was to be assumed of a man seven months pregnant. Yifan's hormones had been up and down through the whole pregnancy, apparently more so when the prince was absent.
"I don't want anything," Yifan's voice, deeper than Yixing's own, finally mumbled. The consort moved to leave as the others in the room allowed their faces to drop, each a display of shock.
Yixing stepped forward, fingers curling around the edge of Yifan's sleeve, "Yifan, please," the prince coaxed, "Choose something, anything, and I'll get it made for you."
"Do my robes not fit me now?" He quipped, making Yixing frown and shake his head from side to side slowly. "Then why do I need more of them? Did you think I wouldn't be able to fit into anything now that I've gained weight?"
"What?" Yixing gaped dumbly, his lips forming a shocked circle, "Of course not."
"Then why all of this? You usually just have my new clothes taken to our rooms; there is never any of this performance in our routine."
He could see that Yifan was growing visibly agitated, the tailor looking as though he wanted to be anywhere but in the room and the mercer intrigued by what he was witnessing.
"I thought it was something we could do together," he replied softly, not raising his voice at his frustrated husband, "That's what I promised when I left, wasn't it? That we would do everything together, that I would treat you as a consort should be." Yifan's features softened, his hands reaching out for Yixing and the prince suppressed a smile as he stepped into the embrace which was opened for him. The bump made it difficult to get his arms around Yifan but it didn't stop him from trying. "Is there anything you like on the table now?"
"The one with the red and gold, the green and the one with the jade detail," Yifan's immediate response had Yixing laughing against his chest, his hands withdrawing to rub softly over the rounded baby bump. "Can we have small ones made for the baby?"
"Of course, anything," Yixing acquiesced, looking back to the tailor who nodded quickly and he smiled again. "In the same silks or others?"
"Okay," Yixing stepped back, positioning himself half facing his husband and the tradesmen. "I think we can get started now."
The tailor moved forward with a dip of his head to the couple, he dismissed himself and returned with a group of six women. They all bowed deeply to Yixing and Yifan, who both waved them off quickly and they approached Yifan nervously and tentatively. The male of the group spoke softly to Yixing, “May I ask for Consort Wu to move to the next room for his disrobing?”
Yixing looked at Yifan, who had turned away from the group to smooth his hand over the fabrics once again, "I think it would be best if I was the one to do it, he's rather conscious of his body at the moment."
"Of course, Your Highness, I understand," the dealer bowed while his accent whistled between his teeth.
Yixing clasped Yifan's hand in his own, the extra warmth produced by his pregnancy warming the cooler tips of Yixing's instrument hardened fingers, and tugged him towards where the dressing room's double doors were waiting. The workers all parted for them as though they were lions in a throng of gazelle, the young women picking up the fabrics Yifan had chosen and rushed them into the room to place them on the floorboards, beating the couple's leisurely pace by numerous seconds.
Yifan looked positively enthralled to have Yixing alone when the hard wooden doors were drawn closed, the prince reciprocating the fond feeling and kissing his husband's fingers individually.
"Hello," Yifan whispered, his face tinged with a summery kiss in the winter cool.
Yifan was the kind of light that never blinded a person, but was more like that of the first stars that revealed themselves during a sunset, a calming coruscates reflected on the ocean. A diamond that had never been in the rough, never blackened like coal or cut into shape, a born jewel of the sky that twinkled around most but blazed under Yixing’s gaze.
"I've missed you," Yixing's delicate hum making Yifan smile far easier than either of them had ever imagined. "You've grown so big."
"You would have seen, if you had been here," the sentiment of the sentence wasn't supposed to hurt Yixing, but the saddened tone Yifan used dug a sharp nail into his chest.
"I could have been here if things weren–"
"If things weren't urgent, I know," Yifan looked down at Yixing, his irises curling with flaming golden streaks. "I'm sorry for making you feel guilty."
"I'll never miss another moment of our child's growth," Yixing knew he would keep that promise; he would take his family wherever he travelled from that day onwards. "Let's get you undressed."
He started by untying what joined the robes together, small patches of Yifan's skin showing and he quickly grew tired of following the sequence he adhered to, to see Yifan naked. Yixing lifted the bottom of the fabric up, drawing pleasure from the sight of his husband and his bare beauty. He gulped down a full salivated mouthful when he saw the closely curving navel appear.
Yixing pushed the bunched fabrics above his husband’s abdomen, the soft and taut skin of his pregnant stomach stretched out and unblemished before him. He could not stop his fingers from skirting in lines over the golden skin, relishing in the fact that it was their child being carried in there. It was something they had created together which would bind them far closer than their marriage could. He flattened his palms, not fussed over the fact that there was no kicking child, but filled with love that his husband was carrying his heir. “You’re so beautiful,” Yixing hummed, looking up at Yifan whose eyes were settled on the shorter man’s hands. “You don’t realise how radiant pregnancy looks on you.”
“Flattery gets you nowhere, prince,” Yifan laughed layering his larger hands over Yixing’s roaming ones.
“Doesn’t it?” Yixing teased back, his body moving around the bump to kiss Yifan’s cheek. “How have you been?”
“Lonely,” Yifan came back to say, his hand curling around Yixing’s and the prince’s smile faltered. “But, I’ve been talking a lot to the baby, he must be tired of my voice.”
“Did you not go out much?”
“The empress came by a couple of times with some tea,” Yifan muttered, his gaze falling from Yixing completely and slipping to the floor.
Yixing lifted one of his hands to rest on the side of Yifan’s face, “I thought we agreed that you would go out and socialise a little more? It’s not healthy for you or the baby to isolate yourself.”
“I wasn’t in the mood but I will do it now, I promise,” Yifan stepped out of Yixing’s touch and looked back at the door. “I’m ready to finish this undressing, I want to greet you, properly, as soon as I can.”
“Of course, my love,” Yixing beamed, peeling each layer from his husband in the cool room, each inch of skin etching itself in the prince’s mind and burning him wherever he touched.
Yixing couldn’t quash the arousal he felt at the images of Yifan baring himself to him, allowing him to indulge in the pleasure of stripping him to only his skin and how resplendent he looked with his protruding stomach. It wasn’t unnatural for the prince to get such urges when he saw his husband naked, especially so since he’d not felt pleasure from his dearest, and only, consort in months. It was clear that Yifan had read his husband’s hungry look, his body shifting gloriously but uncomfortably in the bluish tint of light. It should have cooled the warm look of Yifan’s skin but Yixing thought it only accentuated the aureate spectrum of his body. Each subtle change of every contour on Yifan’s torso framing his body perfectly in the way the sun streamed into the room.
“Do you think you could ‘greet me properly’ here?” Yixing queried nervously, knowing he was going to get an answer in the affirmative as Yifan’s body reacted approvingly, with the hardening of his own cock.
“Here?” Yifan’s brown orbs flashing to the door, his hands slipping down to try and cover the arousal he’d drawn from Yixing. “But there’s no bed…”
Yixing moved forward, his smaller hands brushing Yifan’s aside as he dandled his fingertips up and down Yifan’s solidifying cock. His free hand managed to draw Yifan’s head down with a soft tug on his neck, “That’s never stopped us before. I seem to remember our little treasure being created after you sought me out in the gardens, Consort Wu, do not act coy now.”
“People will hea—”
“People always hear, Yifan,” Yixing’s fingers wrapped fully around his shaft and pumped it slowly, his thumb brushing away the readily dribbling precum. “I can send them away, if you’d like?”
Yifan nodded shyly, his cheeks pinking with embarrassment and titillation. Yixing released his husband, opening the thin doors to greet the rest of the dressing party.
“I’m afraid that Consort Wu is somewhat out of sorts at the moment, it seems as though my return has caused my husband quite a stir,” Yixing could hear Yifan snort behind him and couldn’t help but let a smile take over his lips, “I ask, no, I command, that you leave the immediate vicinity of this dressing area. As to save for the modesty of my beloved Consort and myself.”
Yixing didn’t pause to see their reactions but heard each person scuffling their way out of the room, returning to Yifan who was still rolling his eyes, “I am glad I didn’t marry you for your tact.”
“You had no choice but to marry me,” Yixing beamed, his dimple creasing down his cheek.
“You degraded yourself by going to your knees and bowing to me in front of the emperor,” Yifan rolled his eyes again, “I would have been beheaded for even considering a no, and I will never forgive you for that embarrassment.”
“I was young and in love,” Yixing sighed dramatically, making his way back to Yifan, “And desperate to get beneath whatever you had cladding your body.”
“And now, you’re older, in love and somehow, I don’t know how you’ve managed it, even more desperate to have me naked,” Yifan spurned mockingly, making Yixing gasp out in faux shock.
“Me,” he nestled his fingers back around Yifan’s cock, “desperate,” he started to massage his grip steadily, “for you,” the fingers of his other hand creeping to Yifan’s lips for him to suck them in, “naked?” Yifan accepted the movement, his tongue lapping over the soft flesh, “I don’t,” Yixing tightened his fist at the base of Yifan’s cock, “know where,” he watched his husband coat his fingers in saliva with anticipation, “you got,” Yifan released the digits, Yixing allowing them to fall to his side, “that,” he dropped down to his knees in front of Yifan and the consort looked away, never growing used to the prince shucking his status so readily for him, “idea,” he pressed two of his fingers into Yifan’s entrance, pivoting them to cover the rim in the cool saliva, “from.”
Yixing watched his love’s eyes widen and mouth clench as he tried to relax around the intrusion that hadn’t happened in months, the two features reversing as the sting gave way to pleasure. Yifan’s tongue resting on the edge of his lip, running it over the flesh before clamping down on it in a ripple. Yixing was pumping his hands in tandem, as one hand moved one way, the other moved in the opposite. It always weakened Yifan, notably so when Yixing found his prostate. When he prodded his finger over that sensitive bundle, his other hand would be poised to tease at the overly receptive tip of his cock. It was a recipe for complete deterioration of his consort’s sanity.
Yixing knew Yifan was purposefully trying to keep quiet, his shyness was always something the prince found endearing but he wanted to hear the exhilarated groans right from Yifan’s mouth. He’d have Yifan whining if they were in their chambers, however, they weren’t and Yifan was as inhibited as he was when they were out on court occasions. It made Yixing go as far to suck at the tip of his leaking cock, which made Yifan push his head away as soon as he realised what was happening.
“Yixing,” he panted, eyes barely open because of his arousal but if he could have, Yixing was certain, and then he would have widened them to an impossible size. “You are a prince. You cannot do things like that, you command people with that mouth.”
“You do it to me,” Yixing argued, shuffling on his knees towards Yifan who was stuck still, “Am I not allowed loving my husband with the mouth I command with?”
“You must understand,” Yifan began but Yixing’s mouth was suddenly around him, driving Yifan as far back into it as he could. The consort’s hands digging into Yixing’s hair with feeble attempts to push the lips away from his cock, nothing stopping Yixing from clenching his throat with a swallow to make Yifan groan. "Y-You m-must under-understand."
Yifan wangled Yixing away from him; the prince's lips throbbing as they reddened and he saw how distraught Yifan looked, "What's wrong? Didn't you like it? Is that why you pushed me away?"
Yifan shook his head, lowering himself to his knees to be closer to eye height with Yixing, "You're lowering yourself for me, and I do not want that. We are married but I still serve you, you mustn't do such things with as little care as you have."
"When we are alone, we are equal and that is not because I have lowered myself. It is because I love you as a man, and not a prince. I have fallen in love with you as a human being, not as somebody born into royalty."
Yixing surged forward, joining his mouth with Yifan's and the consort couldn't help but keen into his. His pitch wavering from his normal low voice, up to something as high as his body would allow and Yixing was pressing him back onto the layers of silk that had not even managed to touch his love's body. Yifan's legs adjusting to accommodate him instantly, the consort opening himself up readily for his husband. Yixing's fingers moved into Yifan again, having dabbed them in the viscous precum leaking from them both, and he scissored them gently to make sure the taller was fully prepared for him.
"I sometimes dream of you doing this to me," Yixing whispered, watching how Yifan's head shot up with another scowl. "I cannot help it when you have such handsome hands, FanFan."
Yifan said nothing to retort, moving his body around to have Yixing's fingers pressing against his prostate almost constantly but the prince was quick with his withdrawal. Gliding his slender digits out before disrobing himself, as fast as he could but Yifan still let out complaints of tardiness in entering him. Yixing didn't listen to his husband, fixing his thoughts on getting out of the fine silk he had over his body, hoping to be as naked as his love in moments but the minutes ticked by.
"Do you need help?" Yifan offered, supporting himself on his elbows as he watched Yixing over his pregnancy bump, the prince finally setting himself free from the bindings of his clothes.
He didn't position himself before Yifan's entrance, as he was sure the consort was hoping, but he left soft kisses over his husband’s stomach. Adoring it and smiling whenever he felt slight movement, their child bustling around inside and Yixing felt as though his chest was on fire. His whole life he was convinced that he would never marry for love or have a child born into a loving environment but Yixing had been proven completely wrong. He chose Yifan, Yifan choosing him right back and many people said to him that love would crash into him once he got to know somebody but seeing Yifan was a seed. The beginnings of a flower that seated itself so deeply in Yixing's veins as years went by that he saw love as an eternal spring. It never stopped blossoming, only growing bigger as time passed and he knew he was alive when he was with Yifan.
Even the cloudy days were golden when the tall consort was around, the silence less eerie as Yifan read through scrolls in Yixing's office while he tended to whatever he needed to and the trees were embedded with leaves in the darkest of winters. Maybe that's what had drawn Yixing to the building packed from floor to ceiling with fabrics in hopes of feeling the warmth only Yifan could produce.
It was once he felt that Yifan had been fully adorned with his kisses that Yixing used his own spittle, with a mix of the excesses of precum Yifan's pregnancy heightened arousal was producing, to lubricate his cock. He let himself slide gently and gradually into Yifan, stopping and halting himself constantly from causing any unnecessary discomfort to his husband. Yifan only seemed to become more eager with how laboriously slow Yixing was moving, his hips bucking unsteadily to be an anchor for the prince to sway from. It was enthralling to finally wrap himself in the heat of his lover, lifting his hips up to allow for a more comfortable angle with the swelling of Yifan's stomach far larger than it had been before his travels.
The prince wished he could lean forward to capture the lips Yifan had parted with his own, the ones that were allowing the weak whines of Yixing's name out and into the air. He kept his thrusts even and tender, Yifan's sensitive body relishing in it with limp writhing and hands that were gripping on Yixing's shoulders far tighter than they ever had done before. The consort's eyes were open and glazed, as though he was lucidly in the room, and Yixing knew his own gaze would be heavy and intense. He wished his pupils could see right through Yifan's as their adjusted bodies came together to strike the place within Yifan that made him weakest, yet most pleasured. He wanted to know if light was flooding in like his brown orbs were looking glasses, much as it was for Yixing. He wanted to know if Yifan's body was on fire with complete awareness of the static between them. He wanted to know if Yifan was feeling as though his chest was going to implode or explode, Yixing couldn't decide, with the sheer intensity of everything.
The consort's mouth closed itself, his only signs of pleasure being his struggling breath, and Yixing knew it was his longing to not be heard by anybody but Yixing during their tryst-esque meetings. It made him wish that Yifan was more open with others, as Yixing would feel like a god if everybody knew how far he unravelled the composed consort. He sped up his hips, not brutally but leisurely, not wanting to create too much motion between them. There was no telling as to how Yifan’s body would cope with more forceful movements in his physical state and Yixing wouldn’t dare put that to the test. The prince only allowing himself a little more of a reprieve with his newly inclined speed.
Yixing watched Yifan's mouth reopen, witnessing as his husband's words slipped away from him and disappearing into the translucent cloud of love between them. Each time he saw such a thing, he was reminded wholeheartedly of why he fell in love and how much he longed to be the audience to it until the moment he died.
Yixing's cock was straining against the embracing calidity of Yifan's body, his inner walls drawing Yixing in deeper and more openly than they ever had done so before. The prince could see the signs that Yifan was nearing his end, his petit mort gaining on him and it wasn't long until he was crying out to be touched. His deep voice scratching and cracking in a higher pitch, each moment of his husband's undoing set Yixing's chest ablaze with love.
Yifan's cum came thickly, roping up to where his belly button was proudly poking out and it had the prince's sanity spiralling out of control when he witnessed it be taken over by gravity. The white fluid trickling down Yifan's stomach and painting more of his skin in his masterpiece of ecstasy. It took Yixing's full strength to not release into Yifan when he saw the spent appearance of his husband. His eyes open and on Yixing but unfocused, his hands balling on Yixing's arms and his lips not containing a small droplet of escapee saliva. The prince wanted to lift the body of his lover and use it freely, his own orgasm choking in his nerve endings, but he had to remain torturously soft.
His thrusts were still rhythmic; his hands running up and down Yifan's long thighs, and his knees ached so much. If he weren't so in love, he would have asked for Yifan on all fours to be taken from behind, but he knew Yifan was embarrassed in that position. Both of them preferred to see one another in complete glory anyway.
There was an over sensitive cry from Yifan, his body begging for more of the pleasure and less of the mood fracturing pain, and Yixing saw golden flames in flashes before his eyes. His body tightening as he came uncontrollably, the rush unstoppable, inside his husband, the hot fluid delving deeper inside until it coated around Yixing's softening cock. The build-up of three months' worth of longing for Yifan unleashing itself within him and Yixing knew the consort could feel each stringing drop.
"Don't leave," Yifan whined, his lengthy legs holding Yixing inside of him and the prince was falling in love again. As he always did.
Always harder, always deeper and always with Yifan.
"I wouldn't ever dream of it," Yixing confessed, clasping his hand within Yifan's and adoring it with caring kisses. His longing to kiss his husband driving him to manoeuvre awkwardly around the bump, their lips meeting in an equally sided lick of tongues.
Yifan's shame crept up from his chest, to his neck and right up to the very tips of his ears. The mortifying scene of the mercer discovering the splashes of what both he and Yixing had released in the dressing room; the prince's reaction was to laugh at the consort's embarrassment and the expression of disbelief on the textile agent's face.
"I will buy them all," Yixing repeated, "My desperation to take my husband," the husband that was quickly dying over Yixing's openness, "led to this eventuality. I can only express my gratitude if you could have them delivered to the washing rooms, I am certain that they would not be out of place in our bedchambers. Do you agree, Yifan?" The consort could hear the silent coos from the women in the room at the endearing way Yixing had called Yifan's name, the prince shucking his title to show the close bond, forged in the fires of love, that they shared. Yifan looked away, his hand squeezing Yixing's as his response and the prince was the picture of happiness. "You will have to excuse us; we have preparations that must be made imminently in preparation for our heir."
Each person bowed as the couple made their exit, Yifan's body turning to head towards Yixing's offices but the prince tugged him out to the gardens. The route was familiar and Yifan was laughing in disbelief immediately. "Again?"
"I thirst for you moments after we part, three months has built up an insatiable appetite for you that will never be fulfilled," Yixing's voice was already deep with arousal and Yifan could feel himself stirring once more. "I have been longing to have you where we conceived every day since our parting."
Yixing had Yifan half bare and splayed out majestically on the frost covered ground, his lips pressing to the older man's neck then, something struck the consort, "Does your longing for me mean I shall expect to carry a second heir quickly after the first?"
"If our constant bedding permits it to be so," Yixing replied, somewhat cheekily and Yifan was laughing.
The sound warm, strong and enchanting. Much like the eternal infernos that roared in their hearts whenever they laid eyes on one another.