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Kissing You

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There was no more opportunity for kissing, nor for anything else, for the rest of the time Wei Ying was copying the rules. Lan Zhan was definitely not disappointed when Wei Ying came to him and said that he was done. No more days spent trapped in a room with this infuriating boy, Lan Zhan should be glad, shouldn't he?

However, when he looked at the drawing Wei Ying had done of him, all he felt was a heaviness in his chest. Despite his disparaging comment, he put the drawing away very carefully, already thinking of a place to put it in his room. Which was probably how he missed the look of anticipation on Wei Ying's face as he opened his book again.

His shocked reaction was completely genuine. He had, as a matter of fact, never seen illustrations like this. Not of men and women, and most certainly not of two men. Even his cursory glance was enough to brand the image of the two cutsleeves into his mind, of the way the older one was cradling the younger one against him as he fucked him, the pleasure on both their faces. He threw the book away as if he'd been burned and rounded in on Wei Ying, who'd collapsed laughing on the floor.

Lan Zhan grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to his feet, manhandling him into the back of the library, where they couldn't be easily seen. Wei Ying followed obediently, having obviously expected, and maybe hoped for, a reaction like this. Lan Zhan's blood felt as if it was boiling, his breath loud in his ears, as he abruptly sat down, taking Wei Ying with him so he ended up straddling his lap.

Already Lan Zhan could feel an answering hardness to his own pushing against his stomach, and with a growl of "Shameless!" he kissed Wei Ying, feeling light-headed with need. As always, Wei Ying responded just as strongly, already rocking against Lan Zhan, his fingers greedily slipping between their bodies and finding the slit in Lan Zhan's hanfu. When he pushed it aside and cupped Lan Zhan's erection through his trousers, Lan Zhan wondered if it was possible to pass out from pleasure.

He rarely took himself in hand, and the few times he had had been nothing like this. Nothing like having Wei Ying in his lap, his mouth against his own, his fingers wrapped around him without any trace of hesitation.

"Touch me, please, Lan Zhan." Wei Ying's voice wafted hotly against his ear when they finally broke apart to catch their breath, and Lan Zhan could only obey, simultaneously kissing his way along Wei Ying's jaw and down his neck, remembering how he'd reacted the last time. Pushing the collar of his hanfu open a little, Lan Zhan found the place where neck met shoulder, kisses turning into bites, even as his hand mirrored Wei Ying's own rhythm.

Both of them were panting hard, and it was obvious that this time there would be no stopping. However, Lan Zhan was determined to bring Wei Ying to climax first, so he held on to the last remnants of his self-control. After one more biting kiss to Wei Ying's neck, he returned to his face, kissing him deeply before catching his earlobe and pulling gently with his teeth. Wei Ying's moan reverberated through the library, but Lan Zhan couldn't bring himself to care. Instead he whispered, not sure if it was order, plea or confession, "Wei Ying."

Whatever it was, it was enough, and Wei Ying came apart with a litany of sounds, part wordless moans, part repetitions of "Lan Zhan, yes, please, oooh." He'd stopped touching Lan Zhan, but just listening to and watching him, the curve of his neck, the flush on his cheeks, the red of his mouth, had Lan Zhan also trembling on the edge of release.

He did manage to hold on until Wei Ying had collapsed against him, face resting in the crook of his neck almost innocently when compared to what they'd been doing. The moment he'd caught his breath, however, he lifted his head, eyes glinting, and announced, "Your turn."

Before Lan Zhan could stop him, he'd wriggled out of his arms and knelt on the floor in front of him. Lan Zhan's breath caught when Wei Ying freed his erection from his trousers, only hesitating a moment. Then his mouth touched the tip, and Lan Zhan hissed, hips bucking upwards helplessly. Wei Ying coughed and pulled off, grinning at him cheekily. "You did say you wanted me to kneel for you."

"Wei Ying!" Forcing himself to hold still, Lan Zhan couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of Wei Ying in front of him, mouth wrapped around him as if it was something he wanted as much as Lan Zhan did. Even as he fell apart with embarrassing swiftness, emptying himself down Wei Ying's throat, a part of Lan Zhan wondered when that had happened. When had Wei Ying become something he wanted? Wanted so much he ached with it.

For Wei Ying with his easygoing personality this was probably just in good fun. The thought burned bitterly through the aftermath of Lan Zhan's pleasure, making him tense and snappish once they'd disentangled themselves from each other and cursorily cleaned themselves up.

When Wei Ying turned on his heel and left, Lan Zhan was unsure whether this meant that their... whatever this was, had come to an end. If so he should be glad, should meditate until his thoughts were once more clear and calm.

Instead, he took the picture Wei Ying had drawn and slipped it into his sleeve.