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Mushroom Soup

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An Zhe is just a little mushroom. He’s just a little mushroom, so he finds it hard to understand why Lu Feng has decided that some nights are for sleeping together, and some nights are for “sleeping together.” Followed by, of course, the proper sleeping together, because by the time Lu Feng is done bullying him, he has bruises and bitemarks all over his pale skin, and he is tired enough that all he would like to do is bury himself against Lu Feng’s side and close his eyes... even if it was Lu Feng who had done this to him in the first place.

It’s not as if he dislikes it - okay, he does dislike some parts of it, like when Lu Feng pinches his nipples until he wants to cry, and when Lu Feng stops touching him when his body gets all hot and restless and close, and when Lu Feng will poke the mottled spots he’d made all along An Zhe’s thighs until they hurt - but he simply does not understand why it is necessary to do such things with such unerring frequency! He’s just a mushroom after all - in general, mushrooms don’t “sleep together” at all.

When they’re out in the Abyss, Lu Feng doesn’t bully him as often, too cautious of their goal, of the monsters lurking around them, of the dangers of the terrain. But surely, without fail, at least once every few days, Lu Feng will pat his head and tease him in the same breath, those glass-green eyes staring so intently at An Zhe that he almost feels like Lu Feng is trying to find where the threads of each individual mycelium in his body begin and end.

When Lu Feng gets like that, An Zhe knows, with certainty, that that evening, they will “sleep together.” And then, of course, they will sleep together. Because the nights in the Abyss get rather cold, and the thin blanket he’s taken to wearing across his shoulders can only keep him so warm.

When they’re at the Highland Research Institute, Lu Feng will bully him any time Doctor Ji teases. And Doctor Ji teases quite a lot, because he and Lu Feng have the sort of relationship in which Doctor Ji will say things and Lu Feng will quietly get riled up and An Zhe will have to find a reason to leave the room before Lu Feng sends Doctor Ji out, or else Lu Feng will start looking at him (and Doctor Ji will tease even more).

And then, inevitably, they will “sleep together.”

 

It’s on one of those evenings that Lu Feng follows An Zhe into their shared room at the Institute, hands settling low on An Zhe’s hips, until his fingers can slip innocently under the fall of An Zhe’s sweater. He often draws An Zhe close like this - close enough to bring their faces together, close enough that An Zhe can’t help but lean up into Lu Feng’s space and nuzzle into his warmth. Like two particles in orbit, Lu Feng holds An Zhe close, moves him wherever he likes - whether it be in a straight line to the bed or in those slow, meandering circles across their tiny patch of floor. An Zhe rarely feels the need to question it - sometimes humans just do odd things.

It’s one of those slow, meandering circle kind of days, in which Lu Feng closes his eyes and leans his cheek against the crown of An Zhe’s head, and he simply twirls them around in the comfortable quiet. Today, one hand curls around An Zhe’s waist, pulling them tight against each other. The other one he uses to hold An Zhe’s hand aloft, for no apparent reason other than for them to be holding hands. Like this, they sway back and forth, turning slow circles around the linoleum floor of their room until Lu Feng is ready to pull away.

Sometimes, they talk while they do this. Not always, because An Zhe doesn’t often feel the need to speak and neither does Lu Feng, but sometimes An Zhe will have a question, and Lu Feng will have an answer.

Today, An Zhe’s question is this: “Dr. Ji told me that once, you had agreed to put one of his reagents in your body. But now, whenever he tries to test his extracts on you, you avoid him. Why?”

Lu Feng hums, long and low. For a while, he doesn’t say anything, leading An Zhe in a full circle around the floor before he feels the need to speak. “Did he tell you what reagent it was?”

An Zhe shakes his head, and the movement nearly shakes Lu Feng’s cheek right off his head. Stubbornly, Lu Feng stays, even if An Zhe’s hair must tickle his nose.

“It was the one made from your spore,” Lu Feng says quietly, his fingers tightening minutely against An Zhe’s. “Back when the magnetic field had gone down again, it was the only thing we could think to do.”

“And then I stepped into the Simpson cage,” An Zhe supplies helpfully, “so you didn’t have to.”

It’s Lu Feng’s turn to nod his head, grinding his sharp chin against the tender crown of An Zhe’s head until he pulls away with an aggrieved little frown. Lu Feng smiles down at him, his cool, dark eyes staring so intently at An Zhe that he nearly wants to pull away and hide. He must’ve been teased by Dr. Ji today - why else would he decide to bully An Zhe like this?

Lu Feng, seeing his caution, lets out a low, quiet laugh and changes the topic. “An Zhe, I want to drink mushroom soup today.”

“There is no mushroom soup,” An Zhe says with a frown. “We had fruit and flatbread and dried meat today.”

Lu Feng doesn’t stop looking at An Zhe’s face, his eyes so sharp they could probably cut a few of An Zhe’s mycelium if he isn’t careful. “Come to bed with me.”

Lu Feng doesn’t wait for An Zhe - like usual, he simply brings his hands down under the seat of An Zhe’s pants and lifts him up, carrying him the last few steps to the edge of the bed. The old springs squeal when he drops An Zhe atop the rumpled sheets. With a fluid grace, Lu Feng knocks aside one of An Zhe’s knees with his own knee, before settling into the space he’d made between An Zhe’s legs.

He kneels on the floor, his broad shoulders keeping An Zhe’s legs spread far apart, and lifts up An Zhe’s sweater until An Zhe’s little brown nipples are visible. It’s then that An Zhe realizes with a belated dismay that tonight is yet another one of those nights where they will “sleep together.” His poor skin is still yellow and green in places, from the last time they did this.

“Hold this,” Lu Feng says, nudging the edge of the sweater until An Zhe finally takes a hold of it, keeping it up above his nipples like Lu Feng said. If he doesn’t, Lu Feng might bite him again, and if they are positioned like this, An Zhe can’t bite him back. So he must be obedient - at least until he can properly bite back.

Lu Feng unbuttons An Zhe’s pants with ease, zipping down the fly and then promptly bowling An Zhe over to wrestle his pants and underwear right off of him. By the time An Zhe has his bearings back together enough to sit up and collect the thin blanket that’d fallen off his shoulders, Lu Feng is already mouthing along An Zhe’s small, soft penis; his mouth, as always, is hot and wet and good, deceptively gentle in a way that sends a prickle up An Zhe’s spine.

An Zhe knows that if he lets Lu Feng continue, things will get dangerous. After all, if you were to look at his legs, you would see the way Lu Feng had bitten him and sucked at him until he bruised. Surely it’s reasonable for An Zhe to be cautious! Lu Feng’s appetite is like that of an abyss monster, nibbling on his stalk by mistake, and then simply continuing to eat because he could! And yet, despite his intrinsic knowledge of Lu Feng’s fierce appetite, An Zhe can’t help but go limp and easy as Lu Feng’s lips coaxes him to full hardness.

It’s his gentleness, An Zhe thinks with a sulk, as he allows Lu Feng’s warm hands to stroke up and down his back, as he allows Lu Feng to gently suck and kiss his hardening cock. Truly, too dangerous.

He can feel Lu Feng's curious fingers drifting steadily further down his back with every gentle stroke, but it's hard to care when Lu Feng's tongue is so clever, when his mouth is so eager, when his eyes are so green and intent. Lu Feng is quiet and elegant, even in this - in comparison, An Zhe is loud and sloppy, nevermind the fact that when he returns the favor, Lu Feng almost always teases, almost always shifts his hips and runs his thumb along the stretched seam of his lips and murmurs his affectionate little taunts.

 By the time Lu Feng’s knuckles brush the blankets behind him, the tip of his finger just tracing the line of his ass, An Zhe feels hot and squirmy and tight all over. How can he not, when Lu Feng is sucking and teasing against the sensitive head of his cock? How can he not, when Lu Feng takes him down to the base and hums low in his throat, low enough that An Zhe can feel it tickling his skin? His restless hand can’t help but squeeze hard against Lu Feng’s shoulder, against his hair - anything he can get a hold of, so that he might ground himself against something.

It’s when An Zhe’s hips start chasing the upward pull of Lu Feng’s mouth that Lu Feng pulls off, wiping the shimmer of saliva and precome off his lips with an unconcerned pass of his hand. An Zhe isn’t often loud when they do this, but even he can’t help the way a quiet little whine slips from his lips at the loss.

Lu Feng only smirks up at him, taking his cock in a much-too-loose grip as he migrates over to An Zhe’s thighs, mouthing along the marks he’d worried into An Zhe’s skin just a few days ago. “Tighter,” An Zhe pleads, breath coming out dizzying and thin.

Lu Feng laughs, his teeth dangerously close to a green bruise, as he says, “You do it, then.”

An Zhe sucks in a tight breath, one of his clutching hands - the one not tasked with the arduous process of keeping his sweater up high on his chest - scrabbling around the one Lu Feng has wrapped around his cock. Lu Feng doesn’t budge, doesn’t let An Zhe replace his hand with his own, doesn’t even let An Zhe shape Lu Feng’s fingers into a tighter grip around his cock. The entire time, An Zhe can feel Lu Feng’s lips curved into the slightest of smiles as he kisses and nips along the thin, pale skin of his inner thigh.

It’s the tease and the struggle that draws a hiccuping little sound from An Zhe’s throat, and for that, Lu Feng rewards him with a brief little squeeze at the head, just tight enough to make An Zhe whimper and squirm. “Don’t drop your shirt,” Lu Feng murmurs, punctuating his words with a sharp little bite on a fresh, unmarked inch of his inner thigh, so painfully close to his cock. “If it gets dirty, Dr. Ji will tease you.”

Ah, no,” An Zhe groans, his slackening grip tightening, even as the sweater drops a few centimeters down his chest.

Lu Feng’s free hand comes around to lift An Zhe’s sweater higher, pinching a nipple in punishment. “Hold it up.”

An Zhe is being bullied! He is definitely being bullied!! His poor, soft skin can’t handle this sort of punishment! Even if his chest arches into the touch, even if his hips buck into Lu Feng’s warm hand, even if he still obediently holds up his sweater, he wants to cry in frustration!

There’s a smirk on his face, as Lu Feng takes achingly long to mouth his way up one thigh, before switching to the other. But he must see the vivid green of the healing bruises and feel some sort of pity in his heart, because he doesn’t bite any harder than a sharp little nip. Nothing that’d do anything more than leave a brief reddening of the skin; nothing that’d pull anything more than just a little gasp from his throat, just a little tremble from his eager body.

Lu Feng makes it all the way back to the apex of An Zhe’s legs, licking his balls into his mouth and giving one a little suck, letting his hands pinch and roll them when he gets bored of it. It’s then that he slides his tongue back up to where their hands are joined, to where bitter-salty precome is slicking the way of Lu Feng’s hand. With a playful lick, he draws two of An Zhe’s fingers into his mouth, sucking the salt off of them until An Zhe pulls off of his cock and lets Lu Feng do as he likes.

Lu Feng seems pleased by this, because he tightens his hand, stroking An Zhe a little faster, a little more indulgently, until An Zhe can’t help but shut his eyes, his lips curled around a whispery little moan. Like this, with his eyes squeezed shut, An Zhe is acutely aware of the fact that Lu Feng’s perfect, beautiful mouth sucks his fingers in time with the tantalizing pace of his hand on An Zhe’s cock.

Helpless, An Zhe falls back against the bed, bouncing with the impact of his torso against the springy cushion. Around his fingers, Lu Feng huffs a laugh, hand briefly pulling off of An Zhe’s cock to tug him closer to the edge of the bed.

At least now, he doesn’t have to hold the sweater up - his free hand can run through Lu Feng’s hair, can tug urgently at it until Lu Feng’s fierce green eyes alight on his, until Lu Feng reaches up to pinch at An Zhe’s delicate sides, his sensitive nipples. An Zhe can’t help but gasp and squirm at this treatment, his knees pulling upwards as if to curl in on himself. If not for the way Lu Feng stayed stubbornly between his legs, he’d have probably snapped them closed already.

When Lu Feng sees this, he huffs a pleased little sigh, pulling off of An Zhe’s fingers with an indulgent suck, one that makes An Zhe’s cock throb in sympathy. “Good. Hold yourself open like this,” he says, guiding An Zhe’s hand to the back of his knee, pushing the other knee closer to An Zhe’s chest with his own hand.

Positioned like this, An Zhe is distinctly aware of just how vulnerable he is, like a single mushroom standing conspicuously in the middle of a clearing, exposed to the whims of the sun and the wind, with little more than wet soil and scrubby grass to protect it. Any enterprising beast in the Abyss could just snap him up - in fact, he’s already caught in the jaws of one, if Lu Feng’s expression is anything to go off of.

“What will you do?” An Zhe asks, breathless at the sight of those gleaming green eyes. Truly, like a predator.

“I’m going to eat you,” Lu Feng huffs, with just the barest smile gracing his lips. But it’s not the smile that An Zhe is looking at - but rather, the hungry glint suffusing his gaze, like a poisonous mist clouding over the forest.

An Zhe doesn’t have the time to feel uneasy, because Lu Feng is pushing at his knees, nearly bending him in half, his mouth descending until - 

Ah, ” An Zhe gasps, hips bucking up as best they can, when Lu Feng is licking a hot, wet line from his perineum down to his hole.

They have done a lot together, An Zhe knows, but this is not something Lu Feng has done for him before. He truly does feel like he’s being devoured, that slick tongue laving against his rim, rendering him into a mass of glowing, oversensitized pleasure. He can’t help the way his mouth drops open, the way his lungs force tight little sounds out of his throat, the way his hips buck and squirm.

It all feels like so much, the indescribable heat blooming through his core, the incandescent sensation rushing through his nerves. He can’t help the way his skin breaks out into goosebumps, his muscles so taut, so on-edge that he’s shivering and close after only so much.

Lu Feng must see this, because he pulls away for breath, nipping the curve of An Zhe’s ass hard, hard enough for him to cry out, hard enough for him to go limp on instinct. “Don’t come yet,” Lu Feng says, eyes curving up in a way that tells An Zhe he’s smiling, even if the corners of his mouth haven’t moved.

And then - and then he moves back, dragging his tongue in little circles around An Zhe’s hole until An Zhe pants and squirms, his hand scrabbling between his legs to push at Lu Feng’s head. He’s too weak to push Lu Feng away, his strength sapped by the jolt of pleasure arcing through his body.

Lu Feng had told him not to come, and yet he does everything in his power to push An Zhe over the edge, alternating between long strokes of his tongue and short little flicking motions that make An Zhe sob. Just as his skin starts to grow tight, like a fruit so ripe with juice that it’ll burst, Lu Feng pulls his mouth away, forcing an affronted sob from An Zhe’s throat. Lu Feng pays it no mind, tugging An Zhe closer, so that he’s quite nearly upside down.

An Zhe flexes his thighs where they’re thrown over Lu Feng’s shoulders, tightening just so around Lu Feng’s face until Lu Feng huffs a laugh. The warmth of his breath over An Zhe’s wet skin makes him prickle all over, shivering from the sensation, from the rawness of his nerves, from the throbbing of his cock, so ready to spill.

Vaguely, in his periphery, he hears the familiar snap of a lid, the sound of the gel lubricant Lu Feng tends to favor, and An Zhe knows what will soon happen. With a groan, An Zhe shakes his head, eyes squinted shut to ward off the overwhelming sensation of - well, being overwhelmed.

“Close?” Lu Feng murmurs, gently nosing one of An Zhe’s thighs. He can feel the way some of the thin hair there goes all mussed and out of sorts. It’s just enough of an irritation that An Zhe is able to summon up his fierceness and grumble -

“I’ll bite you!”

Lu Feng laughs, nipping the soft skin of An Zhe’s inner thigh. “See if you can.” It’s with those last words that Lu Feng begins to rub little circles against An Zhe’s opening with his finger, relishing in the way his body twitches against the intrusion.

An Zhe kicks and squirms, but he’s only a little mushroom - how could he fight against a sensation so good as Lu Feng’s fingers inside him? His stubbornness is not so strong, and once he’d accomplished his goal of retrieving his spore, he didn’t have much else to be stubborn about. So really, aside from his instinctual sense of self-preservation, there isn’t much he can protest against, save for his implicit understanding that Lu Feng will tease and tease and tease him until he cries, and then he’ll tease him some more!

“It’s so soft and easy,” Lu Feng muses, adding just a little pressure - enough to feel the way An Zhe’s hole gives for him, before pulling away, and then repeating the process with just a little more pressure. An Zhe really can’t help it, the way his body throbs, the way his hole tries to coax Lu Feng’s finger in, the way his cock drips messily down his chest.

“You’re teasing,” An Zhe sulks, shifting his hips with what little leverage he has, when Lu Feng’s arm is like an iron bar around his middle.

“I am,” Lu Feng agrees with a smile, the sort of smile that delights in An Zhe’s suffering. “And you’re being coquettish.”

An Zhe opens his mouth to protest, but then Lu Feng begins to push his finger in, and An Zhe can hardly get a word in. Not when Lu Feng gently rubs against his insides until everything goes bright and hot. All An Zhe can do is go limp and pliant for him, his insides squeezing around the one little finger like his body would like to keep it there.

He really can’t help the way his body flares with a wanting heat again, the way his cock had immediately twitched at the feeling of Lu Feng’s finger inside of him. He wants to be stubborn, he really does! But every time he tries to get his wits together, Lu Feng simply rubs against that place inside of him, and everything goes all fuzzy and distracting and good.

He hardly even notices when Lu Feng slips another finger in, his body all soft and obedient, even if he himself does not wish to be. The stretch is good - even with two, Lu Feng’s fingers are just as precise and exacting as the rest of him, drawing out helpless sounds from even a reserved little mushroom like An Zhe.

And then, of course, because Lu Feng is cruel, not only does he finger An Zhe well enough to make him suck in those sobbing, panting breaths, but he also leans in, licking around the rim and against his own fingers until An Zhe is a dripping mess - from both ends.

An Zhe, for the matter, can only twitch and groan, his breath coming out hot and wet as his hands cling tightly to Lu Feng’s knees. It’s the only thing he can reach, his fingers digging in hard enough that perhaps even Lu Feng might bruise. It does little to keep An Zhe grounded, though, as Lu Feng continues to make his nerves sing, to make his blood roar in his ears.

Despite his best efforts, orgasm takes him quickly, flooding his body with endorphins that turn him so soft and lax that he could almost be convinced that he’d accidentally become a mass of mycelium.

Like this, he can’t even sulk about how Lu Feng had made him spill all down his chest and neck, his release unfortunately soaking into his sweater. It’ll leave an awful spot there - and he’d come so much that it’s certain to be noticed. Especially by Dr. Ji, who would inevitably tease him for it when he sees him heading to the laundry facilities. But right now, he’s still all hazy and sweet, unable to be bothered with anything more than the lazy, honey-thick thrumming of his blood in his veins; he can’t even feel bothered about the fact that Lu Feng looks a little disappointed as he pulls off, as he slowly, gently slips his fingers out. “You came too early,” he says, biting into An Zhe’s thigh hard enough to make him squeak.

An Zhe almost wants to turn that bite of his thigh into a pile of mycelium, but he’s still feeling soft and hazy from his orgasm. He can’t even be upset that he’s got yet another mark on his poor legs.

With a sigh, Lu Feng gently lets him down, rearranging him on the bed so that he’s lying comfortably on his back. He’s careful when he wrestles the stained sweater off of An Zhe’s body, tossing it to the ground beside An Zhe’s pants. An Zhe’s already halfway to sleep when Lu Feng sits beside him at the edge of his bed, brushing his fingers through An Zhe’s hair, before letting his hand come down to cup An Zhe’s cheek.

His eyes are bright and affectionate as he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of An Zhe’s eye, to his cheek and to his lips. And then he says, “Don’t go to sleep yet.”

“Mm,” An Zhe breathes, eyes fluttering shut as he savors the ticklish sensation of Lu Feng’s innocent little kisses - against his jaw, and then his adam’s apple, his tongue flicking out to lap up the cum pooled in the hollow of his throat. 

Lu Feng pinches An Zhe in the side when his breathing evens out a little too much, startling An Zhe awake - or at least, awake enough to appreciate his lips and tongue working hard to clean every trace of cum off of An Zhe’s skin. Lu Feng takes his time, lingering in places long after they’ve been completely licked clean, until even An Zhe’s cooled-down body starts to feel hot again. By the time Lu Feng gets to An Zhe’s belly button, An Zhe is warm and prickling all over - not quite hard, but he could get there without too much effort.

It’s then that Lu Feng pulls away to pull his own clothes off. Unlike with An Zhe’s, he puts in a minimal effort to fold his clothes and drape them over the desk chair. When he walks back to the bed, his cock bobs a bit like a mushroom under a torrent of rain, and it makes An Zhe so terribly fond of him that he can’t help but reach out to pull him close.

Lu Feng goes down easily, nuzzling into An Zhe’s collarbone as he does, his hands settling on either side of An Zhe’s hips until An Zhe’s urge to hold him passes. When he finally pulls away, he looks so fond that even An Zhe can’t help but forgive him for marking him up so thoroughly.

His goodwill dries up a bit when Lu Feng gently nudges his knees apart, his thumb coming down to stroke against his hole again. With a quiet huff, An Zhe grumbles, “Why do you like to do this so much?”

“Hm?” Lu Feng hums, still gently stroking. It feels - a little ticklish, yes, but still nice, if not for the expectation that Lu Feng will put something in there again.

“...sleeping together,” An Zhe says.

Lu Feng blinks at him, as he considers his answer. And then, he smiles facetiously. “Reproduction. I want to put a spore in you.”

An Zhe frowns. “You can’t put a spore in me.”

“Oh?” Lu Feng hums, looking not too concerned about this fact. His eyes are amused, as he sits back on his haunches.

“I would know if my spore was coming. It’s not coming yet. What you do has no impact on whether or not a spore develops,” An Zhe explains, feeling a bit like he’s walked into a trap, but feeling like he must continue regardless.

“That’s fine,” Lu Feng says, completely at ease. “Then you can put a spore in me.”

An Zhe frowns, because Lu Feng does not seem to be considering this seriously. But An Zhe knows, from his memories of Madame Lu, that humans can have children in this manner. While the gestation tubes in Eden’s nursery had sped the process along, it had only been a recent development. Humans could still have children if they do it like this.

Cautiously, he says, “Alright. Then I will give you a spore.”

Lu Feng’s eyes are bright and laughing as he nods. “Alright. Do what you want.”

An Zhe sits up and stares at Lu Feng a bit, as if piecing out a puzzle. He knows what feels good to him - but he also knows the sorts of positions Lu Feng prefers… for various reasons (most of which being the ease at which he might bully An Zhe). He’d never attempted to put a spore in Lu Feng before, and comparatively speaking Lu Feng was good to him today.

But also, Lu Feng had teased him and teased him until he was on edge twice today…! And even though An Zhe had been good, he still bit him!

With a huff, An Zhe resolves to push Lu Feng down. Lu Feng does not budge for a long moment, that terrible smirk still gracing his handsome face - challenging An Zhe to do his worst, with full knowledge that An Zhe was so much weaker than him. That only bolsters An Zhe’s resolve, making him push with as much force as he can muster. It doesn’t actually do anything, but Lu Feng willingly goes down with a huffed laugh.

As soon as he’s down, An Zhe bites him in his shoulder, for good measure. Lu Feng lets him, his eyes soft and full of affection as he pulls An Zhe down for a kiss. 

It doesn’t take much effort at all, for Lu Feng to coax An Zhe back to hardness. His mouth has always been good - soft and plush when he wants it to be, sharp and biting when the softness is too much. But before Lu Feng can nip at An Zhe’s lip, An Zhe pulls away, nudging Lu Feng’s chin up with his nose as he mouths at the delicate skin under Lu Feng’s jaw. Lu Feng goes easily, huffing a quiet little breath from his nose.

It’s strange to think that there were people who thought of Lu Feng as some impenetrable creature, some infallible facsimile of a human, some being that stood above all of them with his aurora-green eyes and his carbon-steel gun. After all, right here, his body is so fragile. Along his neck, his skin is so thin An Zhe can feel his fluttering pulse against his lips. Underneath him, Lu Feng makes such quiet, huffing sounds, his body pulled taut to trembling as he reigns in his natural instinct to squirm. He’s just as human as the rest of them. Just as animal.

An Zhe nips at his adam’s apple with his sharp little teeth, releasing just the tiniest shiver from Lu Feng’s chest. Like this, naked beneath him, An Zhe can feel the way Lu Feng’s ribcage expands and contracts with each carefully-controlled breath, he way his skin breaks out into goosebumps at An Zhe’s touch, the way his nipples have gone stiff from anticipation, from arousal. It makes An Zhe pleased, knowing that even a weak mushroom like him could affect Lu Feng so powerfully. An Zhe can’t help but admire his own work, sitting back on his haunches to take in the entire thing.

Beneath him, Lu Feng’s eyes are gleaming and bright, his cheeks flushed and mouth bitten red. His broad chest, tanned from their last stint in the Abyss, rises and falls in deep measured breaths, betrayed only by the mildest of tremors. One knee is casually bent upwards, the other curved just enough to accommodate An Zhe’s narrow hips. Between them, his cock has gone fat and red, jutting up proudly from his hips. A bead of clear liquid builds at the tip, and An Zhe nearly reaches out to smear it all around.

His form is admirable, An Zhe thinks, running his hand up and down Lu Feng’s side. His features are sharp and carefully constructed, the product of countless nights out in the Abyss, countless days preparing to survive any unknowable calamity. Like any other creature that’s survived so long in the Abyss, his every movement is careful, efficient, disciplined - wasting no energy on unnecessary motion.

But his hands - his hands, however, are clenched hard against the bedsheets, knuckles white with the sheer effort of keeping himself controlled. It’s the only allowance Lu Feng will give himself, the only instance of waste he can let himself have.

Idly, An Zhe lets his hand drift down from Lu Feng’s sides, taking a hold of Lu Feng’s cock and stroking it without any real hurry. His actions are rewarded with a sharp exhale, with the mildest twitch of Lu Feng’s hips. It’s just barely a shade off from a shiver, and yet, An Zhe knows. He can tell, by the way his cock weeps just a single drop of slippery precome how much Lu Feng has wanted. How much he’s waited.

It doesn’t take long for An Zhe to find the little tube of lubricant swiped from the medical facilities. When he urges Lu Feng onto his belly, Lu Feng gracefully doesn’t protest - he simply turns over, easily lifting up on his knees, so that An Zhe can find what he’s looking for.

It’s small.

“Go slow,” Lu Feng murmurs, turning his head to watch as An Zhe frowns down at the little pucker, wondering exactly how he might fit inside. If he didn’t already know that his mycelium would put Lu Feng right to sleep, he might’ve even started with that. Is that truly what Lu Feng must work with, when he puts his cock inside of An Zhe?

Lu Feng must see An Zhe’s struggle, because he huffs a laugh, one hand slipping between his legs to slowly tug at his cock. “Well? Won’t you put a spore inside?”

An Zhe’s frown turns into a scowl. “Do you really put it in there?”

“Yes,” Lu Feng says. “There’s no where else to put it.”

“It’s small,” An Zhe says.

“It will accommodate. Feel with your fingers, first,” Lu Feng says, spreading his knees for An Zhe.

An Zhe huffs, grabbing high on one of Lu Feng’s thighs and looking again. It’s still small, but with Lu Feng’s goading, he feels brave enough to try. Besides, when An Zhe considers it, how could a little mushroom like him hurt someone like Lu Feng? The thought is preposterous. And so, he presses one finger against Lu Feng’s rim.

It twitches immediately at An Zhe’s touch, and when An Zhe puts just a little pressure on it, it gives easily. It’s - it’s quite incredible, really. An Zhe hadn’t really seen anything like it - only felt it from his own body.

Lu Feng breathes out another heavy sigh, hips tilting upward to make An Zhe’s curious probing easier.

An Zhe swallows hard, and pushes in.

At first, Lu Feng’s body resists him, but it does not take much effort to push in to the first knuckle, and then the second. His insides are hot and smooth, surprisingly reactive compared to the quiet and still Lu Feng. Beneath him, Lu Feng’s body trembles, the sound of his breath unusually loud in the quiet of the room.

“Towards the front,” Lu Feng says, just the slightest strain in his voice. “There’s a place in the front that feels different.”

Ah. An Zhe knows about that. It’s the place Lu Feng can find with unerring accuracy, the place that makes An Zhe squirm. An Zhe thinks about Lu Feng feeling the way he feels when Lu Feng does this to him, and begins to tilt his finger toward the front. 

The moment An Zhe manages to find a slight firmness amidst the trembling softness of Lu Feng’s insides, Lu Feng releases a breath through his nostrils. The hand on his cock stutters to a halt for a half-second, before resuming at its earlier pace as if nothing had happened. “Did I find it?” An Zhe asks, rubbing against the spot. Trying to see just how big it is. It’s not very big.

“Yes,” Lu Feng says, sounding a bit like he’d just come back from a brisk jog, his voice a little soft and breathy. “Another finger, now.”

“Okay,” An Zhe says, slipping another finger in. Like this, with Lu Feng’s arm propped up underneath him and his other hand occupied with stroking himself, Lu Feng is terribly vulnerable. He would be very easy to bully. An Zhe considers this, as he slowly pushes in and out, fingers carefully angled so that he can brush against that little spot every time he pushes in.

Lu Feng’s entire body is tense from keeping still, but his insides twitch and squeeze around An Zhe’s fingers with even the tiniest of motions. An Zhe can’t help but wonder if it’s possible to make Lu Feng move, to break his iron control over his body if only for a moment.

Given how eager Lu Feng is to bully An Zhe, he supposes it's only fair that An Zhe can bully him right back. So as An Zhe begins to pick up a rhythm that makes Lu Feng tremble and shake, he also finds a way to occupy his mouth. He starts at the thin skin behind Lu Feng's ear - the furthest he can reach like this, when one hand is still playing with Lu Feng's ass and the other is tracing vague shapes against Lu Feng's chest.

Lu Feng is tense, of course, but he relaxes into An Zhe's touch - he even leans into it a bit, allowing An Zhe to kiss and suck his way down Lu Feng's neck. His skin at the hairline is starting to bead with sweat, and it's salty against An Zhe's tongue - especially when An Zhe finds a place high up on his neck, sucking a dark bruise there at the same moment he pushes against that spot inside.

Lu Feng's mouth drops open, a gust of breath coming out like it'd been punched from his lungs. His insides flutter enticingly around An Zhe's fingers as An Zhe kisses a few inches down, biting hard against the thin skin of his nape.

Beneath his hands, Lu Feng’s shaking grows more intense, cresting to what one might even call a jolt when An Zhe finds one of Lu Feng's nipples and flicks it.

Throughout all of this, Lu Feng stays quiet, even as his breaths come out ragged and panting. An Zhe can't see his face, but somehow, deep in his bones, he knows that whatever Lu Feng's expression is, it must be appealing. How could it not be when his eyes are gleaming and green and his skin is pink all the way down to his neck?

He teases Lu Feng like this for minutes, watching the way Lu Feng's shoulders shake, feeling the way his body squeezes around An Zhe's fingers. Every so often, when An Zhe's fingers pinch at his nipples, or when An Zhe bites at his shoulders, or when An Zhe's fingers do something particularly clever inside his body, Lu Feng must pull his hand away from his cock, and An Zhe gets to watch as it dribbles precome onto the bedding below.

It is extremely satisfying, seeing Lu Feng this undone.

And then, eventually, Lu Feng clenches at the sheets and says, "Enough. Put it in."

"I don't want to," An Zhe says, just to be contrary, even as his own cock throbs with every squeeze of Lu Feng's insides.

That makes Lu Feng turn his head just enough to glare at An Zhe. His green, green eyes are glossy and sharp, vicious like a beast of the Abyss, and it sends a shiver right through An Zhe at the sight.

"You promised to give me a spore," Lu Feng says, his voice steady and firm. And yet, somehow, An Zhe feels as if Lu Feng might even be sulking.

"You didn't let me come twice. And you punished me when I did!" An Zhe protests, despite the fact that the bite on his thigh had stopped throbbing long ago.

"And you've brought me to the edge just as many times," Lu Feng counters. 

An Zhe stares at Lu Feng, dumbstruck. When had he done that? Lu Feng is so quiet, he could hardly tell.

And yet, An Zhe's mind summons up the image of Lu Feng touching himself slowly, of Lu Feng shivering and letting go of his cock for several long moments, his breath coming hard. Was that it? Had Lu Feng truly been so close?

"Put it in," Lu Feng demands again, and An Zhe can't find it in him to refuse.

Slowly, he slips his fingers out, lining his cock up with Lu Feng's hole. It still seems so big in comparison - perhaps it would be prudent to use lube on this, too?

"Hurry up," Lu Feng says, even as An Zhe is busy slicking up his cock.

An Zhe huffs, figuring that this is as best as he can prepare them. With a steadying breath, he guides the head of his cock to Lu Feng's hole and -

For the first time since they'd started this, Lu Feng's sigh turns into a groan. It’s - it’s tight, it’s so incredibly tight, like nothing An Zhe has felt before. Tight and hot and good, his insides twitching and squeezing around An Zhe’s cock in a way that has him gasping and scrabbling for purchase.

Is this what it always feels like? Is this how An Zhe’s body is for Lu Feng? He’s so soft inside, An Zhe can’t help but get lost in the sensation for a few long moments. Beneath him, Lu Feng has settled his head in the crook of his elbow, face still turned to the side so that he might watch as An Zhe trembles and moans when he bottoms out.

From here, An Zhe can’t see much more than Lu Feng’s eyes, but even he can tell that Lu Feng is amused. He ought to feel a little indignant - after all, Lu Feng is teasing him again - but the feeling of being inside is distracting enough that he can’t bring himself to. “It’ll feel even better if you move,” Lu Feng murmurs, his voice slightly muffled.

He says this, and yet, his body squeezes tight around An Zhe, enough to make him gasp out a shivery little breath, as he tries to pull out. Like Lu Feng, despite his words, is trying to keep An Zhe inside, to keep his cock tucked right into his welcoming heat. An Zhe is almost tempted to stay in there, and he knows Lu Feng would let him. But obediently, albeit reluctantly, he pulls out a few inches.

Lu Feng’s breath trembles as An Zhe pulls out, and when the flare of his cockhead is just teasing the rim, Lu Feng says, his voice tight, “Hurry. Go fast.”

An Zhe pushes back in in one smooth, steady thrust. Lu Feng spreads his knees further, canting his hips up for An Zhe until - 

Hhhgh, ” Lu Feng breathes through his teeth, hiding his face into the crook of his arm, body going tight as An Zhe fucks him as best as he can. Lu Feng holds this position, despite every loud slap of An Zhe’s rocking hips, despite An Zhe helplessly leaning most of his weight on Lu Feng. If An Zhe were a little more aware, perhaps he’d see the way Lu Feng’s hand goes tight around his own cock, stilling at the base with an almost desperate grip as his breath comes out tight. But An Zhe is too caught up in the pleasure of Lu Feng’s body around him, too caught up in the sensation of fucking into Lu Feng that he doesn’t, can’t spare the attention to notice.

Despite his best efforts, it does not take long.

An Zhe really can’t help it, that in the moment Lu Feng’s body begins to tighten around him in helpless little waves, he spills inside, his hips twitching helplessly into the grip of Lu Feng’s body. Beneath him, Lu Feng is quiet, but his breathing is ruined, having long gone trembling and thin with the frantic squeezing of his body.

It feels like forever, before Lu Feng finally relaxes, before An Zhe can pull his sensitive cock out and watch the white dribble out between his legs. When Lu Feng finally turns over and tugs An Zhe down with him, his face is still flushed, his hair is uncharacteristically wild. An Zhe naturally settles a hand against Lu Feng’s chest as Lu Feng folds him into his arms, and he can feel the way Lu Feng’s heart beats in double-time, as clearly as if it had been beating in his own chest.

It takes a long time for them both to calm.

“How will we know if you have a spore?” An Zhe asks, as they lie there together, catching their breaths. “Have you ever carried a spore before?”

Given how Lu Feng had so easily stolen his, all those years ago, An Zhe doesn’t think he has. “We’ll have to wait a long time,” Lu Feng muses, curling around An Zhe almost protectively, the way he often does.

“How long?” An Zhe asks, naturally tucking his head under Lu Feng’s chin.

In lieu of an answer Lu Feng hums long and low, as if considering. An Zhe can’t help but frown, feeling as if Lu Feng is aware of something that he is not, and that Lu Feng is keeping it from him simply to tease. “It’ll be a long time before we know,” Lu Feng says. “So we should keep trying. To make sure it takes.”

An Zhe considers this for a long moment, and when he realizes his folly, he scowls. “...you didn’t actually want me to give you a spore, did you?” An Zhe says with a pout, trying to push away from Lu Feng. Of course, he goes nowhere, because Lu Feng’s hold around him is solid, and An Zhe’s stubbornness is not strong enough to overcome something like Lu Feng’s affection.

Lu Feng laughs, grinding his chin on An Zhe’s tender head. “No. You can’t actually give me a spore.”

An Zhe scowls, squirming in Lu Feng’s hold. When he tires himself out, he can’t help but curl closer into Lu Feng’s side, even if Lu Feng was the one that teased and teased and teased him this entire evening. With little else he can do, he bites Lu Feng, grinding his teeth into the soft skin of his neck.

“But it feels good,” Lu Feng says, lifting his chin to allow An Zhe to bite wherever he likes. “That’s why I want to do it so much. Does it feel bad?”

An Zhe can’t lie. “It doesn’t feel bad,” he begrudgingly admits. Despite the biting and the bruises, An Zhe… likes it. At least, he likes being close to Lu Feng, likes touching him and being touched by him. Even if Lu Feng is a bully.

Lu Feng brightens, a smug little smile on his face. “Then we will keep trying. At least until one of us creates a spore.”

An Zhe grumbles at Lu Feng’s facetiousness, but still, he buries his face against Lu Feng’s collarbone. After coming twice in such quick succession, An Zhe can’t help but feel sleepy, even despite his grumpiness.

With a huff, Lu Feng twists to grab at the blanket, tugging it over their bodies as best he can, when the both of them are curled half on top. And for good measure, he blindly feels around for the thin blanket An Zhe carries around his shoulder and carefully pulls that over An Zhe’s body, too. After all, he’s just a little mushroom - it wouldn’t do for him to get cold.