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i carry your heart [XiCheng ficlet dump (with some WangXian)]

Chapter Text

He doesn’t know how one can feel so vulnerable, so stripped, so laid bare (granted figuratively but also very much literally) and yet at the same time not want to be anywhere else at this moment in time or alternatively strike the person down with Zidian who dares to put him in this position.

He never imagined he would one day come to relish the thought of being pushed into this position, of wanting to present himself like this and not freak completely out. At the beginning there has been shame, but shame has long left the building, replaced by... well, sure, bone deep embarrassment and he still wouldn’t want to be caught dead in the “situation” he was currently in - but in the four walls of the Hanshi there was no room left anymore for his pride.

There was a time in his life when he himself nor anyone that knew him would even know what’s left of the feared Sāndú Shèngsh ǒ u if one took away his pride, stripped him of his dignity. No one else outside the Hanshi would ever find out.

What’s left was - a sobbing, moaning mess.

Jiang Cheng clings to the white fabric in his arms, bunched up into a crumpled mess that would raise more than one eyebrow when it will be handed over for cleaning. (This shouldn’t - really fucking shouldn’t - make another strangled moan escape him this hotly - the thought that a poor servant would get their hands on this beautiful white piece of garment, holding it up to inspect the amount of cleaning it requires and see how utterly wrecked the material is, crinkled and stretched and stained with Jiang Cheng’s drool and... other things. Smelling of a potent combination of sandalwood and lotuses and the heavy musk of sweat no amount of night hunting would justify. It won’t take a lot of imagination to get an idea of what could have possibly happened to it.)

Jiang Cheng’s whole body trembles, overcome with a pleasure that made him dizzy. His knuckles are white as he holds onto the white fabric, his face buried deep into the folds as he gets pulled repeatedly back onto the perfect, big, hard cock of the man behind him.

He may not be ashamed anymore about what he is doing with the beautiful, noble Zewu-Jun but he can still be very much ashamed about his own shamelessness. If that makes any sense? In his head it does. He can be ashamed about the desperate pants leaving him like a whore, about how he greedily awaited every snap of Lan Xichen’s hips, ever brush against something inside him that makes his toes curl and white lights dance in front of his eyes. But even worse how his heart nearly beats out his chest with every deep melodious sound of pleasure coming from the man behind him, with every time the man sighs his name like  Lan Xichen is the one in awe, like he is the one barely believing what is happening and how he deserves this. But worst of all with the kind of reverence that makes Jiang Cheng’s hand twitch in the white fabric with the cloud patterned ribbon entangled there as well.

Jiang Cheng’s bites into the fabric of Lan XiChen’s robe, half successfully hiding a whimper as he pushes backwards, meeting ever thrust, clenching around the hot cock splitting him apart and thinking deliriously I’d give up everything I’d give up so much I’d try to be so damn good if I can keep having this - if I can just keep him inside of me forever -

Fuck, he’d really kill himself for these thoughts - for how true they ring in these moments - where it’s just them and he is here, far away from home, between the clouds -

“Jiang Cheng, please, let me see you.” Lan XiChen’s voice holds barely onto its usual gentle softness, there is an undeniable tremor running through it and the hot breath brushing over Jiang Cheng’s neck with every syllable stood in stark contrast to the typical cool air of the Cloud Recesses. Jiang Cheng whines and shakes his head like a stubborn child, hiding deeper between the folds of the white robe Lan XiChen should have taken away from him in the beginning. Jiang Cheng cannot let him see him. He can only imagine what he looked like - his whole face feels like it is burning up and his eyes sting, his throat clogged with something wet.

Almost harshly Lan XiChen snaps his hips, drives himself even deeper into Jiang Cheng’s willing wet heat. Jiang Cheng’s back arches and mewls lewdly - Lan XiChen has changed his rhythm, now fucking him in slow, measured but no less intense rolls of his hips, leaving a nearly constant pressure on his prostrate. It is too much - way too much - he is too good at this - Jiang Cheng squirms underneath him, stuck between wanting to escape and pressing his ass up further, all of the sudden the fabric becoming suffocating. He is trapped, entirely defenceless between the bed an Lan XiChen’s broad, strong body - it is making him feel so small, smaller than the difference in their stature actually is. Lan XiChen’s arms bracketing him left and right seem like steel bars.  Impossible to break free from. Frighteningly making him feel so, so save.

In harsh contrast to the unrelenting way Lan Xichen fucks him, there are suddenly cool, soft lips pressing kisses to his shoulder, to his neck, behind the shell of his bright red ear. “I want to see your beautiful face. Please let me.”

Ugh. With anyone else he would have barfed right at their feet if they thought to call him of all  people beautiful. At one point he had outright laughed when Lan XiChen, the Lan XiChen, the most beautiful, gorgeous man who walked the earth - called him - Jiang Cheng, the man who got his face permanently stuck in a frown, who had never turned any maiden’s head despite his status - of all things beautiful. But to Jiang Cheng’s horror the compliment, the sweet, painfully honest words, just make something awful and giant spread and twist inside bis chest.

When a gentle hand, tangles in his hair - slipped out of its bun and braid a long time ago - and turns his head to the side, Jiang Cheng lets him do it - the sudden cool air hitting his face now offering a really nice relief.

He blinks, trying to clear the film of tears - holy shit, is he seriously crying? Crying because a man is fucking him, is spreading his legs and splitting his ass for the last...he doesn’t even know how long it’s been - setting his whole body on fire with a desperate, overwhelming pleasure? -, tries to swallow past the hoarseness in his throat, feeling more raw then he would have after screaming at his disciples on the training grounds for hours. He has barely enough time to refocus on the world outside of his white sandalwood cocoon, before his mouth is captured in a searing kiss with a strangled, awed moan of Lan Xichen and one of his legs is grabbed, put over one broad shoulder and he’s twisted onto his side, his body nearly bend in half.

This new angle - the new frantic, powerful rhythm of Lan Xichen’s hips - fuck - Jiang Cheng’s eyes widen in shock as his arms desperately shoot out to hold onto something. One hand grabs onto long, silky black hair and the other still holds impotently onto the white robe. Their kiss broke apart as Jiang Cheng’s mouth falls open in soundless ecstasy, barely registering the tongue licking up the wet corner of his lips, the teeth nibbling on his bottom lip.

He should feel ashamed, really - if he would be able to hear anything anymore except the obscene slap of their skin and every sweet moan and sigh coming from the man above him, he’d be able to hear the noise of the Cloud Recesses from outside, the new juniors running around, the blissfully oblivious people so unaware of what their precious ZeWu-Jun was doing inside his quarter with another Sect Leader - and he should be rightfully horrified - put into this position - admitting to needing this or else he might explode with all the constantly pent up rage and stress -

But like this - he feels so good, he feels so loved - his body alive and numb at the same time due to the punishing strength with which Lan Xichen was having his way with him, using him, playing him like one of his instruments - and more than anything - this makes him reach his climax, untouched and simply split on the cock of another man - of Lan Xichen - an orgasm so intense that his it nearly knocks him out.