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what do you mean I have to be a fucking sushi buffet table for a night

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‘There's no one else for this. Please, Jiang-xiong!’

Jiang Cheng really, really thinks he shouldn’t have agreed to this. He joined the Cloud Recesses restaurant as a sous chef. His main aim should be to hone his culinary skills. He should be focusing on that.

Just because the nyotaimori model for tonight’s reservation tonight called in sick and they can’t find a replacement in time for the dinner birthday party of the restaurant owner’s son, Lan Xichen, doesn’t mean that he should be the one doing it.

Nevermind that Lan Xichen has been nothing short of kind to him and that Jiang Cheng might have a small crush on the handsome man… and that this is probably the only way he can ever get the young heir to even look at him.

“Trust me, Jiang-xiong, it really isn’t that bad,” Nie Huaisang says with a sheepish grin as he pushes an entire cart of sushi and sashimi into the private back room—sushi and sashimi that Jiang Cheng had sliced himself just minutes prior to this. “It’ll be a sensory experience that you can reminiscence about when you are older!”

“I don’t want to know how and why you know enough to say that,” Jiang Cheng groans, burying his face in his hands in sheer embarrassment as he shuffles after Nie Huaisang, clad in a thin silken robe.

Truth be told, Jiang Cheng had been in here numerous times before.

This is the room that he usually serves kaiseki at, and Jiang Cheng is very familiar with its layout. However, the arrangement of furniture today is different from usual. There’s a four foot high dining table pushed to the middle of the room, with a gaudy scarlet tablecloth and a variety of fresh flowers laid out on it.

Nie Huaisang shoots him an expectant look. 

Jiang Cheng grimaces, mentally lamenting his decision again as he unties the front of his robe and climbs onto the table. Careful not to disturb the floral arrangements, Jiang Cheng shimmies and shifts carefully into the empty space in the middle of it.

Once on his back and facing the ceiling, Jiang Cheng realises that he is directly under the air-conditioning unit, and every blast of cold air sends tingles down his spine.

It's equal parts embarrassing as it is disconcerting, especially when Jiang Cheng feels exactly how the sensitive bits on his body react to the cold.

"Pass me the shells, Huaisang."

Scallop shells are traditionally used to cover up the nipples of nyotaimori models and Jiang Cheng wants nothing more than to be covered from head to toe right now. He feels a little too exposed lying on the table like this, like a dish that's just waiting to be eaten.

"Huaisang?"

"I… I didn't prepare them…"

Jiang Cheng's jaw drops and he snaps his head to the side. "You what?!"

"I can explain!" Nie Huaisang hurriedly adds when Jiang Cheng's face momentarily darkens. "It’s not nyotaimori, it’s nantaimori. I have never did nantaimori before, I didn’t think that guys it too!"

Jiang Cheng clicks his tongue. "How else would you cover it? Does it look like something the customer would want to see? The model was supposed to be female, Huaisang."

Nie Huaisang swallows thickly. "Um… uh, I was thinking I could arrange the sashimi into the shape of a flower around it. That way, it will be hidden until they finish eating…"

A flower? Well that's interesting at least. Thank god for Nie Huaisang’s creativity and artistic talent.

Jiang Cheng turns his head back to face the ceiling. "Whatever. Just get it done and over with."

For the next fifteen minutes, Jiang Cheng lies there stiffly, trying his best not to move as Nie Huaisang decorates his body with food. First, Nie Huaisang places several fresh shiso leaves on his areolas, using them as both trays for the food and a thin barrier against Jiang Cheng's body heat. Next, he arranges the slices of salmon belly sashimi on his chest, forming a bud around his nipple, then adding more slices as petals until it forms an extravagant pink rose.

Then Nie Huaisang starts plating the sushi down the length of his abdomen, starting from between his clavicle, in a line over his breastbone to his belly button.

Jiang Cheng sucks in a sharp intake of breath when Nie Huaisang spoons something into his navel.

“What the fuck, Huaisang?!”

“It’s ikura ! Where else am I supposed to put it! The only other place is...”

Jiang Cheng snaps his mouth shut. Nie Huaisang gets back to work..

He drapes a scarf over Jiang Cheng’s body from the curve of one side of his hip across his crotch and over his shaved thighs. It doesn’t do much to cover his nudity but Jiang Cheng would gladly take the addition of the scarf over just being left in a measly thong any day.

An array of seasoned appetisers are arranged onto Jiang Cheng next—small individual plates of chuka wakame, chuka kurage, agedashi tofu, and tamagoyaki . The plates are precariously balanced onto him and Jiang Cheng reflexively tenses up, trying his best to remain completely still.

Two sharp raps come from the door, followed by a timid voice. It’s one of their floor waiters for the night, Wen Ning.

“Are the preparations done? The guest is here, should I show him in?”

“Sure, we’re all done here!”

Jiang Cheng feels his pulse speed up all at once with those words. His palms feel clammy, and his body is both hot and cold all at once. Is this embarrassment? Fear? What will Lan Xichen say when he sees him like this? Does Lan Xichen even remember him?

“Relax, Jiang-xiong. Have more confidence in yourself, you’re the centrepiece today!”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. He doesn’t bother telling Nie Huaisang that that actually makes him feel even more nervous. Instead, he stares blankly up at the ceiling, unblinking.

Nie Huaisang pulls out a white strip of cloth with a pretty blue cloud embroidery pattern on it and holds it over Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “If you’d like, I could blindfold you. It might make it feel better?”

Indeed, as Nie Huaisang suggested, the darkness is strangely comforting and Jiang Cheng quickly nods, raising his head slightly off the table so the other man can loop the cloth around his head and secure it in place. It’s definitely a lot easier if he doesn’t have to see Lan Xichen. He wouldn’t have to risk seeing the looks of distaste and disappointment. Lan Xichen would probably not recognise him too, and it wouldn’t be awkward the next time he runs into the other man in the workplace… which would be quite a bit, considering how Lan Xichen is slated to take over the management of this store after his birthday.

However, Jiang Cheng quickly learns that he made the wrong decision when the doors slide open and all he can discern are low, hushed whispers.

The tatami mats are superb in dampening the sounds of footsteps and Jiang Cheng can’t even tell how many people are in the room right now. He has no idea who the guests are. What do they look like? Are they as nervous as he is right now?

The air-conditioning overhead blasts another bout of cold air onto Jiang Cheng and he clenches his hands into fists to curb his urge to shiver. His heart is hammering so fast in his chest, and Jiang Cheng wants nothing more than to leap from the table, obligations and dignity be damned.

And that’s when Jiang Cheng notices a weight being lifted from the top of his right thigh. Someone has picked up one of the plates of appetisers.

Shit. It’s too late to run now, right? Fuck. Fuck this shit.

There’s the sound of munching, and Jiang Cheng strains his ears, trying to deduce how many guests are around him right now. There’s complete silence and no other movements, prompting Jiang Cheng to believe that there’s only one guest—but that can’t be it, this is a party after all. Why would Lan Xichen be here alone?

Jiang Cheng tenses his body further when he feels the tips of chopstick brushing his side, trailing lightly up from the side of his hip to his lower abdomen and up to his clavicle. It strokes his bare skin along the line of the sushi before picking up the one placed in between his collarbones.

A second piece is picked up without much hassle shortly after as well, giving Jiang Cheng a brief moment of reprieve before the chopsticks are back to tease again. They start at his collarbone this time, sliding over the delectable dip and encircling around his left pec, as if the guest is unsure if they would like to have the sashimi or another sushi.

They eventually come to a decision and pick up one of the salmon belly sashimi, peeling it away from the makeshift flower design from top down. The sound of the fish being dipped into sauce follows, and before Jiang Cheng knows it, the guest has taken another piece of salmon from the same spot, causing the structure of the three-layered flower to start collapsing in on itself.

“I’m sorry,” the guest apologises, his voice soft and tone polite. Jiang Cheng would recognise that voice anywhere. It’s undeniably Lan Xichen’s, and the knowledge of who the guest is sends a new wave of embarrassment and humiliation running through him.

Jiang Cheng swallows thickly when Lan Xichen picks another slice.

Coincidentally, this time, Lan Xichen chooses one of the two pieces that form the bud, and Jiang Cheng clearly feels the sensation of how it sticks to the sensitive peak, clinging to and tugging lightly on the flesh as it is pulled away.

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth against the resulting pleasure, adamant on not making any sound. He doesn't need to make this any lewder than what it is supposed to be!

This is an art form, not… not…

" Aaaah-!" Jiang Cheng gasps, jaw falling slack in surprise. There's something slim and long and cold against his nipple, gripping the erect nub.

It's the chopsticks, Jiang Cheng realises after a half-pause and another moan is drawn from him when Lan Xichen squeezes down his nipple.

"Wait, that's not-!" Jiang Cheng begins, but is interrupted again when Lan Xichen starts pulling on it. The pressure is neither too hard nor too soft—a perfect balance between pain and pleasure, and Jiang Cheng throws his head back, writhing.

The appetizers across his groin tip precariously and Jiang Cheng quickly forces himself to settle back flat down.

"I'm sorry!" Lan Xichen releases him and withdraws his chopsticks at once. "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't do it on purpose. It's the exact same shade so I didn't notice."

Salmon pink colored nipples… the sign of an inexperienced virgin...

Jiang Cheng forces a smile onto his face. "It's fine, don't worry."

"But it's all swollen. I'll get you something for it."

Swollen? More like erect, you shitty himbo!

"No, it's really fine," Jiang Cheng insists, but his words hold absolutely no persuasive power when he is unable to even move.

He hears the clang of metal against metal and Jiang Cheng hates that he is unable to see right now. He has absolutely no idea where Lan Xichen is and what he is doing.

Jiang Cheng opens his mouth, all ready to say something, when he feels something cold and wet against his abused nipple.

It stuns him, making him convulse equal parts from pleasure and surprise. He had never used ice in this manner; he had never even known ice could be used in this manner!

"P-Please…" Jiang Cheng croaks out with great difficulty. He can feel the unmistakable feeling of his cock filling up and rising to full-hardness. He doesn't want to imagine how indecent he looks right now, not with his flushed skin and tent on the scarf over his crotch.

"Please what?" There's a short pause before Lan Xichen speaks again, gently holding out a piece of sashimi to Jiang Cheng's lips."Could it be that you want to eat too?"

What?

No, wait, seriously, what.

Jiang Cheng blinks in succession under the blindfold, confused, but still relents easily when Lan Xichen attempts to coax him again.

He always had a soft spot for gourmet food after all, Jiang Cheng tells himself as he chews on the offered sashimi, feeling it melt in his mouth and coat his tongue with a layer of umami goodness.

"Try it with this sake too."

Something touches Jiang Cheng’s lips, sliding against and parting them. It’s a foreign feeling, yet something unexpectedly pleasant. Jiang Cheng immerses in it, accepting the stream of liquid that flows down into his mouth—alcohol that blooms beautifully with a fruity and floral fragrance that complements the sweetness of the fish.

“Does it taste good? You recommended this pairing to me the first time we met,” Lan Xichen says, his voice surprisingly close to Jiang Cheng’s face. Lan Xichen’s warm breath fans across Jiang Cheng’s face, followed by a soft chuckle. “Do you remember that, Chef Jiang?”

Jiang Cheng’s body jerks reflexively in response, and he flushes immediately, a wave of red washing down to his chest. He’s giddy, lightheaded with the sheer amount of emotions bubbling in him right now.

He hadn’t expected to be recognised, hadn’t thought that Lan Xichen would have recognised him—and now that the other man has, Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how he should react, or how he should be reacting.

“H-How did you recognise me?”

There’s an amused chuckle. “Of course I would, Chef Jiang. Did you think I wouldn’t recognise the face of the person I love?”

The person he loves. The person Lan Xichen loves.

Who? Him?

"Besides, that blindfold that you're wearing now," Lan Xichen leans in so close that their lips brush against each other again. "Is mine. Everyone in the main family of the Lan household has one upon birth. The one other person that can wear it is their significant other."

"Wait, it's a misunderstanding. The one who passed this to me is Huaisang and…" Jiang Cheng trails off, the realisation dawning on him. "Nie Huaisang your accomplice."

Lan Xichen chuckles. "He offered."

Jiang Cheng's face heats up. How obvious must he have been with his crush on Lan Xichen, for Nie Huaisang to catch on and offer to help with it?!

"He told me my feelings are mutual, and he had a plan to show it. This is the plan."

"Unbelievable," Jiang Cheng groans, and struggles to push himself up onto his elbows, but a firm hand on his chest holds him in place.

"Is Huaisang wrong though?"

A finger traces along the curve of Jiang Cheng's lips before ducking down, flitting past his chin and removing the dishes one by one by one.

The touch of Lan Xichen's lips to his side has Jiang Cheng reeling but he quickly melts into a puddle of oversensitivity as Lan Xichen sucks a bright red patch onto his skin, marking him. Jiang Cheng's body tenses from it, his abs contracting, and several bright orange ikura slip out, rolling across his abdomen and down to the tabletop.

Jiang Cheng's breath hitches. 

Lan Xichen leisurely licks a stripe down to his navel, making sure to leave another mark en route before wrapping his lips around the circumference and delving his tongue right into Jiang Cheng's bellybutton.

Jiang Cheng is unable to see, so it comes totally as a surprise when Lan Xichen collects the spoonful of ikura with his tongue. Each sweep of Lan Xichen’s tongue into the crevice sparks an inexplicable heat deep inside of him, compounding and travelling down to his groin where it makes his cock twitch in desire.

The sensation is completely fresh to Jiang Cheng. He had never ever felt like that before.

“Is Huaisang wrong though?” Lan Xichen repeats upon pulling away.

The air-conditioning unit blows a gust of cool air at the same time, hitting the damp spot around his navel. The difference in temperature makes Jiang Cheng shiver. Lan Xichen chuckles at the sight.

“N-No, he isn’t wrong.” Jiang Cheng takes a deep breath to steady his voice. “I do… I do return your feelings.”

A finger hooks under his blindfold and lifts it, sliding the soft silken material up. It uncovers Jiang Cheng’s right eye, and the other man immediately attempts to open his eye, however, the sudden piercing glare from the bright fluorescent lights overhead makes him recoil. 

Tears brim at the corners of his eye and Jiang Cheng hurriedly squeezes it shut, feeling the wetness overflow and leak past his temple to his hairline. Reflexively, Jiang Cheng raises a hand to his face to wipe the tear track away, but a strong hand grabs his wrist and slams it down, pinning it above his head.

A dark shadow looms over Jiang Cheng and he struggles to open his eyes again, blinking through the unfocused haziness to spot a pair of molten amber eyes peering down at him.

"Lan-shao— mmph!"

Lan Xichen seizes the opportunity to both initiate and deepen the kiss, pushing his tongue into Jiang Cheng’s mouth. Faced with the new portrayal of intimacy that he is completely unfamiliar with, Jiang Cheng has no choice but to admit his inexperience and concede, allowing Lan Xichen to do as he pleases—and Lan Xichen does exactly that.

Nibbles on his bottom lip and sucks on the tip of his tongue simply steals Jiang Cheng’s breath away one after another, leaving him with no choice but to gasp and moan into Lan Xichen’s mouth. The sudden swipe of tongue against tongue is as unexpected as it is passionate, and it is certainly more passionate than anything Jiang Cheng had ever experienced.

He had never known that mere kisses could feel this way.

A moan slips from Jiang Cheng’s lips, and that single moan quickly turns into a series of broken whimpers, each one lewder than the previous.

“I’ve been waiting very, very long to hear that. You have no idea how happy it makes me. It’s like a dream come true.”

Jiang Cheng gasps. He wants to reply, wants to tell Lan Xichen that he isn’t the only one waiting, but the words die in his throat when Lan Xichen pulls away to smile down at him.

He had never seen Lan Xichen looking like this before, never seen him smiling like this, looking as if he is so happy that he is on the verge of crying—and it’s all because of him. Jiang Cheng’s stomach flips with a kind of nervous excitement and his chest swells with an equal amount of pride and contentment.

Jiang Cheng raises his free hand to cup Lan Xichen’s cheek, but the other man catches it easily this time as well, and turns his head to the side to press a kiss to the inside of Jiang Cheng’s wrist. It’s just a chaste gesture, but the resulting heat that blooms from their point of contact sends a new wave of electrifying sensitivity running through Jiang Cheng’s body.

Is this what it means to be in love? To have his feelings reciprocated?

Every single one of Lan Xichen’s touches makes Jiang Cheng feel so incredibly good. It’s as if his body is receptive and acceptive of anything and everything, as long as it comes from Lan Xichen. It’s exhilarating and satisfying, but at the same time, Jiang Cheng still can’t help but feel an utmost amount of guilt over the fact that he is doing something so indecent at his workplace. 

They are at a restaurant. There could be other guests right now. Also, his colleagues are right outside. They might hear him. Heck, they might even be coming in to refill the platters soon!

There’s a chance that he could be caught!

“Does potentially getting caught turn you on, Chef Jiang?” Lan Xichen jests as he trails a finger down from Jiang Cheng’s kiss-swollen bottom lip. The fingertip traces lightly across bare flushed skin, skimming over a nipple and the dip above his hips.

“Wait, stop. Lan-shaoye, we… we can’t do this here.”

“Why?” Lan Xichen questions, tilting his head to the side, pretending as if he doesn’t understand the reason why, but his sly smile gives him away. 

A tightening grip on the side of Jiang Cheng’s thigh leaves him gasping, hips bucking up, and Lan Xichen uses the chance to slide his hand under the latter. He uses it as leverage to lift Jiang Cheng’s hips then, pushing Jiang Cheng’s knees up and over his chest, folding him nearly in half.

With the plates of appetizers moved to the side earlier, there’s no reason Jiang Cheng can conjure to convince the latter to stop, and he simply clenches his teeth at the sheer embarrassment of being completely exposed to his love.

There’s no way Jiang Cheng can resist in this shameful position, and he watches with wide eyes as Lan Xichen roves his gaze all over him before gripping his rear. Lan Xichen digs his thumbs into the sides of the two soft mounds of flesh and moves his fingers to the side, parting the cheeks to reveal a tantalising shade of pink hidden between them.

Cool air settles against it and Jiang Cheng chokes, biting down on his bottom lip to stifle his building mewls.

Lan Xichen chuckles. “Chef Jiang, don’t worry. When I said I booked the entire restaurant for my birthday dinner tonight, I meant the entire restaurant.” He leans in over Jiang Cheng, folding the latter’s flexible body even more as his lips ghost over Jiang Cheng’s cheek. “There’s no one left here but you and me.”

“There’s no way you would know that for sure,” Jiang Cheng retorts. There’s always a chance that someone might still be around, or come back to the store because they forgot something.

Lan Xichen’s smirk widens. “Do you want to test it out then?”



*



“Why does testing out mean this?!” Jiang Cheng snaps breathlessly in between kisses as Lan Xichen plunges deep into him again for the umpteenth time.

He really hadn’t expected this turn of events when Lan Xichen made that suggestion. He thought that the worst would be him having to walk through the entire store to check if there’s anyone left before they started doing anything else, but this… this was not what he expected!

“Anyone that passes by would be able to see you, Chef Jiang.”

True enough, Jiang Cheng is currently in a compromising position, balancing on only one shaky foot as Lan Xichen plows into him relentlessly and mercilessly.

Their erotic movements leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, and there's no excuse Jiang Cheng can think of to get them out of this situation if they are spotted anyway—not with how he is moaning while Lan Xichen plunges into him and teases the twin peaks on his chest.

They are in the main hall of the restaurant, and will be in full view of anyone potentially entering the store or leaving from the staff break room.

Jiang Cheng can clearly see that the store is closed, with dimmed lights and locked gates. He knows, but that doesn’t stop his heart from picking up its pace whenever he spots a shadow passing by on the main road that the restaurant is situated on.

"Please-" Jiang Cheng begins, his voice inadvertently cracking as Lan Xichen undulates his hips up and thrusts back into Jiang Cheng again. The head of Lan Xichen's engorged cock hits his prostate with deadly precision, and it tears a strangled moan from Jiang Cheng's throat. "Hnngh… Aah, please, please…"

"Please what?" Lan Xichen questions with a sly smirk.

"Please, slower… Wait! Just wait a moment, dammit, you're going too fast and d-deep!"

"Are you sure you really want me to slow down?" Lan Xichen asks, but he does so all the same, pulling out unhurriedly at a steady pace.

His girth drags along Jiang Cheng's inner walls leisurely as he does so, rubbing past all the erogenous grooves deep inside that Jiang Cheng didn't even know existed.

The tip of Lan Xichen's cock catches on his rim, tugging on it outwards, stretching it. It elicits a cry from Jiang Cheng as he curls his toes in pleasure, instinctively contracting down and around Lan Xichen.

How is it fucking possible that it feels even better when Lan Xichen slows down?!

"You're so tight around me, Chef Jiang. It feels so good right now."

The slide of Lan Xichen's cock back into him is arduously and painfully slow. He pushes in one inch at a time, and Jiang Cheng feels the entire process clear as day. He feels how his inner walls part, expanding inch by inch to accommodate Lan Xichen's girth, until Lan Xichen bottoms out in him.

His passageway takes on the shape of Lan Xichen's cock, moulding and clinging fervently to it.

“You’re being so good for me.” Lan Xichen says against the curve of Jiang Cheng’s shoulder and hooks an arm under the bend of his knee, lifting him completely off the ground. With nothing to anchor him down, Jiang Cheng has no choice but to hook his arms around Lan Xichen for purchase.

The slight change in angle is detrimental to Jiang Cheng’s sanity because it means that Lan Xichen isn’t simply brushing against his sweet spot anymore. The tip of Lan Xichen’s cock is pressing down directly on his prostate, and Jiang Cheng suspects that Lan Xichen knows this because in the next moment, Lan Xichen grows impossibly bigger, hotter and harder inside him.

“I can’t anymore. Lan, Lan… I really can’t take any more!”

“You don’t have to take any more than this,” Lan Xichen assures him, his voice gentle and promising—a stark contrast to how intense his bruising grip on Jiang Cheng’s thighs is. “It’s perfect, you are perfect like this.”

Jiang Cheng keens from the praise, raking his nails down Lan Xichen’s back.

Lan Xichen doesn’t flinch from the pain. Instead, he seemingly basks in it, tightening his grip on Jiang Cheng and using it as leverage to pull Jiang Cheng closer as he pushes even deeper into him, grinding up against Jiang Cheng’s sweet spot relentlessly.

The pressure is even and increasing exponentially, sending waves of heat coiling at the pit of Jiang Cheng’s stomach and he comes with a broken sob, spilling ropes of white in between their naked torsos. The culmination of pleasure into this one singular moment turns Jiang Cheng’s mind completely white and hazy in the afterglow and he clings desperately to Lan Xichen’s forearms as he rides out the rest of his orgasm.

Lan Xichen doesn’t falter. He keeps at his pace, slowly pulling out and thrusting back into the tight heat of Jiang Cheng’s oversensitive body, fucking him right through his first orgasm of the day.

“Can you feel how greedily your hole is sucking me in right now?” Lan Xichen whispers against the shell of Jiang Cheng’s reddened ear, forcefully dragging him down from his high back into reality again. “Ah, but Chef Jiang, you’re the chef and I’m the customer. Why are you eating me instead?”

Lethargically, Jiang Cheng wraps trembling hands around Lan Xichen’s shoulders, guiding the other man towards his chest.

Lan Xichen smirks. “Does that mean that Chef Jiang is serving these as his dish next?” 

Jiang Cheng’s face burns from the supposed roleplay that Lan Xichen is still studiously keeping up with. It’s embarrassing, but there’s a part in Jiang Cheng that strangely yearns for more, so he gives in and plays along. “Yes…”

Lan Xichen gives a small lick against one pert nipple as a reward.

Jiang Cheng’s breath catches.

It’s nothing similar to what he had felt earlier at all. Back in the private room, when he was all sprawled on the table, it had felt electrifying, but awkward. There was something that had stopped Jiang Cheng from giving himself completely to the pleasure—but there is nothing of the sort now.

Each lick and suck only brings with it undeniable bursts of pleasure. Lan Xichen treats him with utmost gentleness, patiently and carefully dragging out each moment to give him the best lingering sensations. 

"Why-" Jiang Cheng grits out in between thrusts that make him shiver. "Why are you still so hard?"

"Because Chef Jiang is a good cook," Lan Xichen laughs, punctuating each series of ministrations on the latter's nipple by shoving his length deeper. "He is so delicious, why would I ever want to stop eating?"

"D-Don't say that!"

"Don't say what? The truth?"

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"It isn't flattery," Lan Xichen says as he loosens his grip on the back of Jiang Cheng's thighs, dropping Jiang Cheng down onto his cock while thrusting upwards at the same moment. “I have always considered you the best cook ever since I first met you two years ago.”

Two years ago?

But the first time they met was a year ago, when Lan Qiren brought his nephew to the store for introductions.

“You might not remember but I came by the store after operating hours that day. My father had recently passed away then and I was told that I would have to take over the family business upon graduation. I was in my last year of graduate school, studying a completely different course. I had no interest in food or running a restaurant chain. I had my own dreams.” Lan Xichen ducks his head down, pressing a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s forehead. “Then, I met you.”

“Me?” 

“You looked so happy in the kitchen. It was inspirational. It made me think that I want to make people happy through food like you did.”

Jiang Cheng averts his gaze, his cheeks heating up. “I didn’t… I don’t, I can't-”

Lan Xichen smiles. “You can. You made me happy. You make me happy.”



*



Lan Xichen flips Jiang Cheng around so the other man is standing on shaky legs, his top half still pressed against the table for support.

“Hm, I heard that Chef Jiang recently pushed out a ten-course kaiseki, right?”

Lan Xichen grips the two tantalizing round globes of flesh before his eyes, parting them to reveal the pliant pink entrance. As Lan Xichen watches, it twitches and a stream of white semen leaks from within, spilling out and trickling down the insides of his thigh.

“If the sushi and sashimi are the first course, and the round just now is my second course, then it means we have eight more rounds to go, Chef Jiang.”

Jiang Cheng swallows dryly. “W-Wait.”

“Don’t worry,” Lan Xichen answers, already sinking his girth back into Jiang Cheng’s abused hole. “I’ll be gentle.”