Chapter Text
Cheng Qian was most often quiet and reserved; he kept his emotions close to the vest, though could strike a blow with piercing words when necessary. This would occasionally lead to strife between him and his sect leader, his lover, his more often than not fussy other half.
Cheng Qian was aware that despite the tendency to bicker with Zhengming over insignificant things, it wasn’t a reflection of their true feelings. He didn’t think too hard about it—they’d lay down their lives for each other, they shared mind, heart, body, and spirit—what was there to think about? Cheng Qian let out a sigh of frustration as he made his way down the mountain, earlier events turning over in his head. Being in love didn’t make bickering any less likely. The newest tiff had to do with Cheng Qian going to pick up a few things from the town located adjacent to the foot of the mountain. It wouldn’t be a long trip, just under a day’s journey. Cheng Qian had thought that after this many years, the separation anxiety plaguing Zhengming would have settled.
He had thought wrong.
And so while taking a breather as he shopped the market, an idea began to take shape the moment his eyes landed on a pretty jade ring. Zhengming’s words from earlier echoed in his mind.
”What, are you so eager to leave?”
Threatening to leave for another hundred years was not exactly the best response. He had mulled it over before returning home.
Which was why that night, in lieu of an apology, he found himself straddling his sect leader, slowly sinking onto his cock and taking a moment to let himself be stretched.
Yan Zhengming was flat on his back, and any inclination to sit up slightly was quickly squashed by Cheng Qian’s hands forcing him back down.
“Let me,” he said, following a shaky breath.
Cheng Qian’s hands moved to pin Yan Zhengming’s above his head as he shifted to his knees and started bouncing. His hips snapped down in quick, measured movements. Yan Zhengming in turn thrusted his hips up as he chased the pleasure of being inside his lover. He couldn’t move much; the weight of Cheng Qian settled heavy on his lower half and the hands pinning him were iron-clad in their resolution. He moaned particularly loudly when Cheng Qian’s mouth latched onto his throat, sucking and marking him on a weak spot. He wanted to touch him, wanted to grab his hips and drive him mad like the state he was in—but Cheng Qian’s grip remained firm.
Cheng Qian dragged his tongue along the pulse line of Yan Zhengming’s neck, savoring the tremors beneath him. He pulled back just enough to watch his dashixiong’s face as he continued to slap his hips down over and over again. His sect leader was quite a sight, hair disheveled and strewn across the pillow, a look on his face that clearly read he wanted more. “Stay,” Cheng Qian ordered and slid back to sit upright. His palms pressed against Yan Zhengming’s chest, using it as leverage as he rocked harder, bouncing higher, shaking the frame of the mattress. Yan Zhengming’s hands grabbed onto his hips, desperate to touch him as he felt Cheng Qian squeeze his ass around his cock. He started trying to thrust up but once again his hands were pinned above his head. Cheng Qian leaned down to cover his lips with a messy kiss and Yan Zhengming relented control. He felt himself teetering on the edge of release, and on a random roll of Cheng Qian’s hips his body gave in. He moaned as his hips twitched up, riding his orgasm out as long as he could. His body fell limp across the sheets, but Cheng Qian was not finished with him.
Cheng Qian could use his body until it was broken, if it was like this, and Yan Zhengming mused in his head that he would thank him for it. All thoughts of their disagreement earlier had been wiped from his mind, replaced by desire and want.
His shidi slowed his pace to languid kisses, drawing as many muffled noises from Yan Zhengming’s lips as he could. It wasn’t long before he felt his dick getting hard once more, ready to be abused.
He sat up, keeping Cheng Qian in his lap as he lunged forward to mark his neck in return. Cheng Qian’s nails bit into his back and Yan Zhengming shivered.
Their lips met and Cheng Qian rolled his hips again. Yan Zhengming’s hands grabbed at his ass cheeks, spreading him open as he shakily thrust up. They both made a small groan in unison, on the precipice of wanting more. But Cheng Qian set the pace, eased him back to a slow, lingering kiss.
His lips trailed along Yan Zhengming’s jawline, nipping and sucking at sensitive skin. Yan Zhengming’s arms wrapped around Cheng Qian’s waist, squeezing him tightly as he bucked his hips up. Cheng Qian moaned against his skin, then took in a sharp breath as he jerked his hips down. He let his fingers slide down his lover’s chest, tracing circles over his nipples as he felt muscles trembling beneath him.
“Xiao Qian,” The sect leader’s voice was broken, raspy, desperate.
“Shhh,” Cheng Qian shushed him, whispering it along the shell of his ear just to get a reaction. He was rewarded with Yan Zhengming tightening his grip and thrusting up.
“Xiao Qian,” Yan Zhengming cried again, grip tightening again.
“I’m here,” he whispered, nipping at Yan Zhengming’s earlobe. The shudder he felt from below him made a smile tug at his lips. He pushed Yan Zhengming onto his back, hovering over him as he rocked his body in another fast rhythm. Yan Zhengming reached up and tugged the ribbon out of Cheng Qian’s hair so that it spilled down his shoulders. He threaded his fingers into it, against Cheng Qian’s scalp, and pulled him down for a deep kiss. Their tongues slid across each other, darting in and out and circling for domination. Yan Zhengming’s free hand grabbed at Cheng Qian’s hip, moving to match his pace with vigor. Cheng Qian pulled back enough so he could stroke himself, eyes on his elder brother as he watched in hungry fascination. His cum spilled across his fingers and onto Yan Zhengming’s stomach; he paused for a moment as he let out a stifled moan. Yan Zhengming flipped them over, shifting to his knees and snapping his hips forward wildly. Cheng Qian saw stars as his prostate was struck again and again. Yan Zhengming came with a start, groaning as he could feel the tingling pulses of his orgasm tickle the veins in his body. He fell down atop Cheng Qian’s chest, trying to catch his breath as shaky fingers combed through his hair.
A bit of time passed and they laid in a mess on the bed, listening to the sound of breaths in the air. Yan Zhengming could only stand to be dirty for so long; he nudged Cheng Qian to get up for a bath.
After changing the sheets and curling up in bed, Yan Zhengming fell asleep more quickly than he usually would. Cheng Qian watched him sleep, the rise and fall of his chest a rhythmic, soothing meditation. When he was absolutely sure that he wouldn’t wake, he slipped the jade ring onto Yan Zhengming’s pointer finger while he slept.
It seemed like a silly thing, carving a heart connection charm into it. But if Zhengming ever needed to sense his presence when Cheng Qian was out of his sight, this ring would grant his partner that relief.
He smiled, brushing his fingers against dashixiong’s knuckle.
Holding Yan Zhengming’s hand, he thought of the past, thought of how much this hand had suffered. He kept it against his heart and closed his eyes to meditate until morning.