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Lan XiChen was in deep meditation. He was often in deep meditation since the whole thing at the temple. Meditation was a comfortable blanket that let him rid his mind of everything- like his failure to see what was right in front of him, the look in A-Yao's eyes when he realised he had been found out… the scraping feeling of his sword sliding against his rib as he walked closer and closer.
He took a deep breath and focused on the feeling of the cold air flowing through his nose and down into his chest. He had lost his focus again. Meditation was so difficult lately that he wondered if going into the ice cave where Lan Zhan had sat through his exile would help him.
The smell of sandalwood filled his senses. He took a breath.
What small strand of focus he had snapped again like spider silk that a stick had been passed through as he heard the gentle scrape of wood on wood as the paper door to his room opened.
He opened his eyes, looking up to see his good friend Nie HuaiSang entering in his usual look of embroidered grey and silver robes. His fan was closed in front of him, clutched in both hands and he had a look of mild nervousness on his face.
"Sect leader Nie," he greeted politely.
"Sect leader Lan," he said, equally politely. He hovered at the door as if waiting for an invitation, his face hovering on a smile. Lan XiChen sighed and smiled fully.
"Come in," he said, gesturing to the seat across from him at the low table.
Nie HuaiSang stepped inside and closed the door behind him before he sat down at the table. He was carrying himself differently lately, XiChen noticed. Back when they had first known each other HuaiSang had been carefree and spent his time goofing off with Wei WuXian, much to his uncle's distress. As soon as he became sect leader, he had seemed hesitant to break away from that life and make any hard decision. His title of head-shaker had been unfortunately accurate. He often threw himself on the floor, crying no matter who was around, but ever since Nie MingJue had been put to rest he sat upright. He answered questions more confidently and walked with a sway in his step that reminded him more of the old days. He was the same young and carefree heart but older, more experienced, and more ready to face the world.
Lan XiChen didn't know what had changed, but he liked it. It had been hard to watch the whole clan suffer when HuaiSang had been clearly mourning.
"What brings you here?" Lan XiChen turned to get another teacup and pour one for his guest.
Nie HuaiSang opened his fan in a fluid motion and waved it delicately in front of his face. He looked over it with his long, dark lashes and XiChen paused a moment before placing the cup in front of him delicately.
"I came to thank you," HuaiSang explained. "Things have been upside down lately, but with your help I have finished fixing the Ancestral Tomb and the Unclean Realm is almost prepared for the next cultivation conference. I could not have done it without you."
Lan XiChen smiled gently. It was nothing, really, but he still appreciated the praise.
"You are welcome," he said through his smile. "There is no need to thank me."
"Of course there is a need," HuaiSang said from behind the fan. He closed it and looked at him thoughtfully with the handle pushed lightly against his lips. "It would be rude otherwise."
XiChen looked down at his tea, flushing lightly. This was nothing that couldn't have been put in a letter, but it felt nice to be told in person, especially when HuaiSang was looking at him within such a complicated expression. He thickened his face and lifted the tea to his lips, hiding his mouth delicately as he sipped.
The fact that HuaiSang was watching his every gesture with interest only made him hide further.
"It was nothing. Your brother and I were sworn brothers. There is nothing I would not do for you that I would not do for him."
"It is still an honour." HuaiSang dipped his eyes, stroking the fan against his cheek in a gentle caress as he pulled it away from his face. Something pulled his attention to the gesture. It seemed almost deliberate, but he wasn't sure what that could mean.
"I am surprised you were able to prise the Cultivation Conference from the hands of Sandou Shengshou," he commented. Nie HuaiSang waved a dismissive hand at that.
"He has other things happening with Sect Leader Jin," he explained. "It would be easier for them to attend than to host. Since it used to be at Carp Tower, Jin RuLan felt the pressure to do it well. I helped."
Lan XiChen could tell he was being modest, but he did not say that aloud. Jiang Cheng had seemed keen to host it himself, so the fact that something came up was strange. That was another observation he did not voice. It felt wrong to be suspicious of his friends, but Jin GuangYao had left a mark on his heart that would not make it easy to trust again.
"I am excited to attend. I'm sure your good taste will make it more comfortable than the ostentatious Conferences hosted in Lanling."
Nie HuaiSang hid behind his fan again, flushing at the compliment. He looked cute like that, XiChen realised, then quickly dismissed it. He looked out of the window at the height of the sun.
"I would normally do training soon, if you wish to come with me. It is a short walk to the training area," he said and fixed a smile on his guest. Some fresh air might be good.
"Surely you are already so powerful you don't need to train," HuaiSang simpered.
XiChen smiled and explained, "training every day is how I remain powerful. Moving the body through the katas makes sure the muscles remember."
"Da-ge used to say that," he frowned. "Always practice the things you want to succeed at. The blade was just never my thing," he sighed wistfully.
"Did you take his advice?" Lan XiChen rose to his feet and HuaiSang followed. He started leading them sedately through the wooden paths to a small house on a hill.
"I have practiced painting fans," he shrugged. The one in front of his face looked new. It was delicate silk with a pattern of clouds across it and an engraved metal frame.
"Did you paint this one?" He asked as he looked at it with interest.
"Yes," Nie HuaiSang held it out in front of him to look proudly at his work.
"It is lovely." Xichen smiled which made HuaiSang turn the fan to fan himself happily.
Eventually they came to a small cabin far away from the rest of the buildings. The front yard was open and perfect for moving in the large, quick arcs that was the Gusu Lan style. The steps also acted as a convenient place to sit and watch the practice. Huaisang sashayed over and took a seat.
"Thank you for inviting me. I would love to see Lan XiChen train," he said as he leaned back on one hand, crossing one knee over the other and fanning himself. On anyone else XiChen might have thought he was flirting, but this was just normal for Nie HuaiSang.
Lan XiChen merely smiled and stepped to the middle of a small patch of earth beaten flat by hours of training. He drew Shuoyue and held it aloft, getting into position for the first series of movements. Moving through them was like breathing, and the physical part of it worked better for the moment than sitting in meditation had done. The burn in his muscles as he warmed up was easier to focus on than his breathing. The flow of blood to his limbs helped ease what felt like a solid clot that had formed in his chest the moment he realised he had been betrayed.
He finished the set and sheathed his sword, bowing to an invisible sparring partner. He had almost forgotten he was not alone until he heard some light clapping.
“Very impressive,” Nie HuaiSang commented, the handle of his fan pressed against his lips again, “but who did you bow to? You were not fighting anyone.”
Lan Xichen stood tall, hand on the hilt of his sword. He explained, “gratitude to one’s opponent is an important part of training- even if your opponent is yourself.”
Nie HuaiSang slid from the step to stand. He moved over to the training area as if he was out on a Sunday walk through a market and stopped in front of Lan XiChen.
“Would you like an opponent,” he said, looking up at the taller man through his lashes. he held his hands behind his back, his fan swinging back and forward.
“You want to fight me?” Lan Zichen teased. “But sect leader, you don't have a sword.”
“No, but I have learned some things. I am fast,” he assured him. For as long as he had known him, Nie HuaiSang had always shied away from combat. He was not good with a sword or a blade or even music, and Nie MingJue had lamented that fact. It was hard to imagine that Nie HuaiSang had picked up many more tricks since his brother's passing.
“Then how shall we fight?” Lan XiChen humoured him. Nie HuaiSang just fanned himself gently, looking calm as ever.
“I have been wanting to practice something, but nobody has drawn a sword on me in a long time.”
Lan XiChen thought it over. It would be easy to go lightly and not hurt him if he was careful, and maybe the fact that Nie HuaiSang seemed somewhat confident meant that he could train him a little. Maybe he could pick up where Nie Mingjue had left off.
“Okay,” he stepped back and pulled his sword, dropping into a fighting stance. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Nie HuaiSang answered, but didn't move.
After a quick moment to decide if he really wanted to do this, he lunged forward with Shuoyue, doing his best to aim just to the right of his opponent so he would miss. He was an accomplished swordsman, and his cultivation gave him quick reflexes and quicker eyes but somehow, he still missed the part where Nie HuaiSang closed the fan and slipped it under Lan XiChen's sword arm to pin it with his other hand. HuaiSang twisted and XiChen was down on one knee in a fluid motion. He felt the cold press of the metal fan against his cheek as HuaiSang moved it threateningly closer. His heart leaped into his throat as all at once the feelings of betrayal came back.
Just as quickly as he had been disarmed, he was released and Nie HuaiSang was one step away, fanning himself again with an aloof expression.
Lan XiChen looked at him from down on the ground, stunned. He slowly rose to his feet again, willing the panic away.
“I have underestimated you,” he admitted.
“Most do,” Nie Huaisang smiled coquettishly.
“Everyone says you do not know how to fight. Even your brother had said so,” he said pointedly.
“Even I have always said so,” HuaiSang admitted. “I received some books a little while ago and have tried again to learn something. I will not use a blade as the rest of my family have because of the danger, so I chose a new weapon.”
It was an uncommon style since most cultivators chose to use swords which could double as a weapon or a mode of transport, but XiChen was sure he had seen a mention or two of a fan as a weapon somewhere in the library- he had just never seen it in person.
“It suits you,” XiChen said, holding Shuoyue ready for anything that could happen. “You have always carried a fan, so nobody will see the difference.”
“Mn,” HuaiSang replied with a bright smile. “It is nice to be able to show someone, but that is not all is it?” With that he struck a fighting stance, the fan held aloft.
XiChen had to admit he was curious to see what he could do. He swung his sword again, not holding back as much as he could. With a flourish of the open fan, Nie HuaiSang stepped to the side, neatly avoiding the attack. With the fan in the way he could not see what was happening with HuaiSang’s hands until he felt a grab at his wrist.
He reacted immediately, twisting his arm to pull HuaiSang off balance. It worked for a moment, but as HuaiSang stumbled forward his fan closed into his fist, and the closed fan was hooked around his XiChen’s knee. The momentum spilled them both onto the ground with HuaiSang’s weight landing on his chest.
A huff was knocked out of him, but he kept a firm grip on his sword. HuaiSang was faster, however, and used the opportunity to climb over him further, pinning him to the ground by straddling his thighs and holding the metal fan to XiChen’s throat.
Lan XiChen looked up at the triumphant look on the younger man’s face and surrendered, dropping Shouyue onto the ground. If it were a life or death situation he could have easily broken out and fought harder, but since this was just training, and the way Nie HuaiSang’s pupils expanded was so distracting, he decided to let it slide.
“Well done,” he huffed, putting his hands up next to his head in surrender. “If MingJue were here, he would be so proud.”
Something flashed briefly across HuaiSang’s face before it was lost and he leaned in, putting slightly more pressure on the fan to tilt XiChen’s chin up.
“Please don’t mention his name right now,” he said breathlessly. His eyes roamed over XiChen’s face as if looking intently for something.
The metal frame of the fan pressed against his chin started to warm with his skin, and XiChen couldn’t find it within him to move it right away. He lowered his hands, brushing his fingers gently against HuaiSang’s knees.
HuaiSang must have found what he was looking for since he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss against XiChen’s lips. It was somehow unexpected, though he would look back in hindsight and realise that it really shouldn’t have been. The kiss was more of a question that he didn’t know how to answer. He felt HuaiSang’s warm hand press against his chest, fingers playing over the clouds embroidered on his robes and he let himself enjoy it, eyes slipping closed for a moment.
HuaiSang pulled back and their eyes locked for a second. There was such a depth of emotion in them, but XiChen could not begin to fathom what emotion it was. Now that he knew what he could hide, there was no knowing what was going on inside of Nie HuaiSang’s mind.
“I’m s-sorry,” Nie HuaiSang said, pulling back. “I don’t know what came over me.”
XiChen didn’t know what came over him either. It was a bad idea, but something felt hollow inside him and having the warm body on top of him touching him and kissing him after the mild exercise of the fight made him hungry. It felt good, and after the constant molten lead pumping slowly through his chest and weighing down his limbs since the temple, anything that felt good had to account for something.
He reached up a hand, running his fingertips along Nie HuaiSang’s chin and cheek and chased his lips with his own, pulling him down to meet halfway. It wasn’t a very coordinated kiss, and Nie HuaiSang’s mouth seemed unpractised but with the permission it was like he had lost control of something he was holding back with all his might, and he threw himself into kissing Lan XiChen with great enthusiasm.
Lan Xichen’s hands moved up to the small of Nie HuaiSang’s back as HuaiSang squirmed with delight on top of him. After a few moments Nie HuaiSang pulled back, his face flushed red and his breaths coming hard. There was a smile on his face that made him look like the happy boy he had been before he lost everything.
Guilt stabbed at Lan Xichen and he pushed himself to a seated position with Nie Huaisang still over him pressed together like lovers. He shouldn’t do this when there was such a look of deep wanting in Nie HuaiSang’s eyes and all he was doing was chasing a feeling.
“Why?” XiChen asked softly, looking sadly at him.
“I’ve always wanted to,” Nie HuaiSang admitted, draping his arms over XiChen’s shoulders. Lan XiChen could feel the fan ghosting over his back as he swung it gently. “You are so beautiful and kind. I made a list, you know- of all the eligible young masters from prominent clans based on how attractive they were. You placed first.” HuaiSang looked like he was wanting to lean in and kiss him again, but he settled for a grin.
Lan Xichen looked at the space between their chests. There was barely enough to hold a breath. He sighed a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. The situation was too complicated, he was too raw, and he was burning too hotly with a question that needed to be asked before he even considered trying anything with this boy.
“I- if you don’t want to,” Nei HuaiSang said carefully. He went still, waiting for the answer.
Lan XiChen looked pained for a moment before he looked back up at Nie HuaiSang’s face. He needed honesty. He needed to see it up close.
“Did he really move?” he blurted out.
“Hm? Who?” Nie HuaiSang said carefully, but something on his face said he understood the question perfectly. Lan XiChen put it plainly anyway.
“Back in Guanyin Temple. I know I have asked you before, but I need to know.” His voice was rawer and more cracked than he intended, but he didn’t back down. He stared intently, waiting for his answer.
“I… don’t know,” Nie HuaiSang breathed. “This is still the only answer I can give you. I don’t remember what my eyes saw, but I remember seeing with my heart only that he had killed my brother, that he had done it right in front of everyone, that he had caused so much pain- maybe it was premature. I really thought…” He frowned deeply and his eyes welled with tears. “I was so scared he would hurt you. I think about it every night, wondering if I made a mistake.”
On instinct Lan XiChen hugged him closer, feeling his own tears well. He buried his face in Nie HuaiSang’s and held him tightly, trying to shut out the world. The fact that he would never have a true answer would never stop hurting. The fact that he would never know if even at the end he would betray him…
The heartfelt ‘stay with me’, and the fact that Lan XiChen was entirely ready to do so- to stay with him, holding that sword that was lodged in his chest and let the building come down around him because it was so much easier than leaving of his own accord and trying to go on with life after it all.
The pain made his limbs feel like ice and his golden core feel like it was on the verge of breaking apart of its own accord.
He felt hands on his cheeks and lifted his chin to feel Nie HuaiSang’s lips on his again. A golden glitter of spiritual energy passed through the kiss that felt like a single coin being tossed into a bottomless well.
“A-Sang,” he whispered. The tears were burning against the skin of his cheeks as they fell with no sign of stopping. “HuaiSang, I can’t.”
Nie HuaiSang shushed him, dotting a few more kisses over his cheeks and chin. He placed one more on his forehead and murmured, “It’s okay. You need this.” Thumbs swiped over his cheeks, taking the tears with him and he finally opened his eyes.
The look on Nie HuaiSag’s face was full of so much desperation and longing that Lan XiChen was sure it was only making it worse.
“Even if you don’t want me the same way, maybe I can comfort you,” Nie HuaiSang brushed his hair back tenderly from his face, stroking and touching wherever he could.
“I could not do that to you,” Lan XiChen sobbed out.
“You can do whatever you like to me,” HuaiSang said suggestively and gave him a flirtatious grin. XiChen stared at him for a few seconds, pressing against the pain inside him with the idea of it, testing the waters. He must have lost his mind, because he gave in far too easily.
He closed his eyes again, wrapping his arms hard around Nie HuaiSang’s waist and crushing their bodies together. He kissed him hard, pouring all the pain and uncertainty into the place where their tongues met, and lips searched for somewhere comfortable for the both of them.
Nie HuaiSang let out a moan from the back of his throat, lying his full weight onto Lan XiChen’s chest and dropping his fan onto the ground behind him so he could use his hands to tangle in his hair and deepen the kiss. He was like a heavy blanket warming away the darkness and cold, and XiChen wanted more. He pulled away suddenly, gasping for breath.
“Inside,” he demanded and got to his feet, lifting Nie HuaiSang by the hips to carry him. HuaiSang wrapped his legs around him tightly, grinning from ear to ear. He was loving life so much he didn’t even realise they had left their weapons on the ground outside.
As they stepped inside the house Lan XiChen leaned against the doorframe, sending a bolt of spiritual energy out into the yard to pick up the weapons and deposit them on the table inside. Only then did he slam the door closed and continue walking to the low bed inside. He knelt on it and let go of Nie HuaiSang, letting him fall back unceremoniously. His hair and robes went everywhere at the force of the impact.
Nie HuaiSang scrabbled to get some purchase, but Lan XiChen was on top of him in a heartbeat, kissing him like he was suffocating and Nie HuaiSang was oxygen. Kissing just felt so good. The intimacy of it, the way it sent tendrils of warmth and relief through his whole body as if kissing was the answer to all of life’s problems.
There were rules in the Lan Sect’s nearly four thousand rules that made it known how important it was to kiss the right person for the right reasons, but it wouldn’t be the first rule he had broken just for the thrill of it. It was medication for his tortured mind, and the small pleasured but annoyed noises that Nie HuaiSang made as he tried to explore through the tightly wound and heavily layered robes was its own kind of healing broth.
It took some strength to pull away and get back to his knees over him. His hands went to untie the belt around his waist until he got distracted looking down at the man. His face was flushed, his eyes dark, his hair falling out of their usually impeccable braids, and he looked like he was about to explode just from looking at Lan XiChen. It was… beautiful.
The spell was broken when Nie HuaiSang came to his senses and sat up swiftly, putting his hands on top of Lan Xichen’s and begging, “please, let me.”
Lan Xichen pulled his hands away to let him work and they fumbled for a moment as Nie HuaiSang switched their positions, laying Lan XiChen down on his back and hovering over him to untie his robes and push them to the side.
As every layer was removed Lan XiChen watched Nie HuaiSang’s face. He was watching every move he made with his hands, eyeing each new piece that was revealed hungrily. He looked like he was opening a present with many layers of wrapping and getting more excited the closer he got to the centre.
Lan XiChen had never felt so worshipped, and he had to brush away the silent thoughts wondering if A-Yao would have been just as attentive in bed by pulling Nie HuaiSang back down to kiss him. HuaiSang kissed back frantically while his hands pushed the already open layers to the side and over XiChen’s chest to remove them.
“I have to warn you,” HuaiSang said as soon as he could pull his lips away and direct them more towards XiChen’s uneven jawline and sensitive neck, “I have never done this before, but I have read,” he punctuated his sentence with a grind of their hips together and a lick over the shell of XiChen’s ear, “a lot of porn.”
XiChen let out a surprised huff of laughter, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. Everything felt momentarily ridiculous, but he was pulled back to the moment and Nie HuaiSang scraped his teeth gently over his neck. His voice dropped in pitch as he spoke filthy words against his throat, hands exploring over every inch of skin he could find.
“I’ve thought about this a thousand times. Ever since we gave you the offering when I started my studies. I’ve thought about all the ways I could have you, all the ways you could have me.”
There was a pang of guilt at those words- the fact that he had barely even noticed Nie HuaiSang when he was given the offering, eyes too drawn to the intense look of the person bearing the gift, his smooth words and small but powerful presence.
He gasped as HuaiSang brought him back to the present with a hand slipping lower under his robes, stroking over his cock that was slowly becoming interested in the situation.
“I’ve thought of thousands of scenarios where I could make you cry out for me,” HuaiSang continued, trailing his kisses and exploring his tongue down XiChen’s sternum. “I’ve touched myself so many times and imagined they were your hands. Every time you came to play the guqin for my brother I watched your fingers dance over the strings and imagined they were inside me.”
Lan XiChen’s face heated at the thought. Had he really been noticed this whole time? It seemed impossible, but when he opened his eyes to look down at HuaiSang he saw the truth. There was fire in his eyes as his fingers played along the tender skin along the waistline of his pants. He kept eye contact as he dipped his mouth down, running his lips over the outline of his cock through the thin silk pants.
“A-Sang,” XiChen breathed, closing his eyes to protect him from burning up. He was so hard now that it ached, and he could tell that HuaiSang knew as he felt him gently smirk against his sensitive parts.
Normally Lan XiChen was the type to take control. He was confident in what he wanted and attentive to his lover’s needs and wants. He loved to sit back and watch as his lovers fell apart beneath him, calling his name and drifting back down safely into his arms. But in his current state- broken, weak, hollow- it was hard to come up with the energy to do so. He was powerless against Nie HuaiSang’s attention. Even more so when he felt his pants pulled lower to reveal his aching hardness to the cold air around them.
If he had any power to resist before, it would have evaporated the instant he felt that pretty little mouth on him. He groaned and twitched his hands against the impulse to shove his hands fully into HuaiSang’s hair and push him down further. That would be rude for one thing, and would probably choke him and make him stop.
Nie HuaiSang was just feeling him out with tongue and lips and glorious suction on the head of him, slowly lowering his mouth down with every lick and suck, trying to get as much of him in his mouth as possible. He whispered some praises, though the actual words were lost in his fogged breath as he gripped tightly at the sheets.
“A-Sang, you don’t have to-,” he tried to protest but it sounded weak even to his own ears. It was too much of a needy whine to be anything but a plea to continue.
Nie HuaiSang pulled his mouth away, sucking the spit with him as he did.
“Please Zewu-Jun, let me,” he pleaded as he wrapped his hands around him. He couldn’t take the whole thing in his mouth so he used his hand to stroke the rest as he went back to his task of trying to get him as far in his throat as possible. He gagged lightly and pulled back to where it was more comfortable and the pressure of it made XiChen grip the sheets so tightly he thought his hands would break.
His breath came in shorter, harder bursts as HuaiSang continued. What he lacked in experience and skill, he made up for in enthusiasm and the intelligence to catalogue every little reaction that XiChen made and chase the ones that were the strongest. Nie HuaiSang was always far better at puzzles than he was at martial arts, and Lan XiChen was a puzzle that was to be solved.
XiChen almost cried out as the sensation was lost again as HuaiSang let go to speak once more. He opened his eyes blearily to look down at the man between his legs and they almost glazed over into blindness at the sight of HuaiSang with wetness down his chin, eyes wet from suppressing his gags and lips dark and flushed like the head of his dick. His pupils dilated so hard at the sight that his eyes felt strained.
“Please,” HuaiSang pleaded and XiChen realised he had entirely missed the words he had said. He got the idea when HuaiSang pulled his hands up from the sheets, untangling them from the fabric, and placed the fingers reverently on the back of his head.
Lan XiChen tightened his fingers, pulling at the braids and running one hand through the smooth silky locks. Nie HuaiSang’s eyes went darker as he pulled, and he lowered his head back to take him in his mouth. XiChen groaned again and held tighter, making HuaiSang moan around him. The vibrations, and the idea that he had done that to him, were almost too much.
HuaiSang squirmed between his legs, pushing his hips into the mattress of the bed and XiChen couldn’t help but push his own hips up at the sight. He pushed in a little too far and HuaiSang choked, pulling off him to gasp for air.
“Sorry,” Lan XiChen said quickly, letting go of his hair entirely. Nie HuaiSang pouted at the loss.
“It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting it,” he replied, licking his lips. “Do it again- please.” With that he went back to work, sucking XiChen down with a whole new fervour.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” XiChen groaned in reply.
“You won’t,” HuaiSang assured him but his voice was hoarse already. “You won’t.”
XiChen looked at him, pained and closed his eyes to explain, “But I might.” It was hard to deny the look on HuaiSang’s face and much easier if he couldn’t see it.
“Next time then,” HuaiSang said assertively and crawled back up to look into XiChen’s face. XiChen opened his eyes when he felt the damp fingers on his cheek and looked up at HuaiSang. How could he resist kissing him then?
HuaiSang’s hands tangled in XiChen’s hair as he kissed, squirming desperately until he pressed his cock against XiChen’s thigh through his robes. XiChen put a hand on the small of his back, pushing him down harder and making HuaiSang rut against him more desperately.
“What if we-,” HuaiSang started to suggest, but was cut off by a gentle gasp as he shifted his hips again. “Please Zewu-Jun, fuck me,” he keened.
“You’ve never,” XiChen started to protest, but he was silenced with a kiss more intense than he had had yet.
“I have,” HuaiSang explained breathlessly. “Not with another person, but with myself. I’ve opened myself with my fingers and thought of you. All I’ve ever wanted was to let you have me.” He punctuated his words with kisses and a slow roll of his hips. “Please, I can set the pace, you won’t hurt me. Please.”
XiChen’s mind was clouded by the descriptions and the feeling of the man writhing atop him.
“Okay,” he breathed, at first trying to convince himself, then “okay,” he made the decision.
Nie HuaiSang kissed him long and messily, as if all of his dreams were coming true. He hopped off the bed and disrobed so quickly it’s a wonder that the fragile fabric of his robes didn’t tear. As he dropped the layers on the floor, leaving himself completely bare, he palmed something from his quiankun sleeves and stood to face XiChen.
XiChen looked over him hungrily. He was small and slight with a narrow waist, but slight muscle definition told the story how he had trained with the fan. His chest was not broad like his brother’s had been, missing the strength that came with brutal training with a heavy blade, and he looked younger than he really was. He would always have a youthful air, XiChun expected, and he would keep using his innocent, fine features to disarm those around him.
The look in his eyes was anything but innocent, though, as he climbed back onto the bed and straddled XiChen’s thighs again. HuaiSang’s hands wandered as he kissed him and when he felt something suddenly cold drip onto the head of his cock, he knew it was a misdirection.
He hissed and looked down to see a small vial of some kind of liquid- it looked like oil- being poured delicately onto his length. The cold was replaced with a hot hand as HuaiSang stopped pouring and spread it around with a few slick strokes of his palm. The hot-cold-hot sent shivers through him and he pushed HuaiSang’s face away from his for a better look.
“What was that?” he watched the head of his cock poke out from HuaiSang’s fist again and again.
“A medicinal oil. It will stay slick for a long time,” he held up the bottle to show some kind of talisman painted onto the side. Lan XiChen was impressed- in the past he had either been with women who did not need help getting slick or used regular oil or spit to ease the way. This was a little more high tech.
“It helps,” HuaiSang explained and slipped his hand behind his own back, starting to work himself open. XiChen watched his face for a small while, enjoying the way the muscles shifted in pleasure and he bit his lip to keep moans swallowed down.
He sat up to push HuaiSang’s hair back from his ears and kissed his cheek gently.
“Let me,” he whispered.
HuaiSang’s eyes shot open in surprise. He had seemed so shameless throughout the entire encounter, but it seemed that XiChen had hit on something that could make him blush. HE took the vial delicately from HuaiSang’s hands and coated two of his fingers with it, rubbing it between fingers and thumb to warm it slightly.
He leaned in to kiss him as he slipped his hand between HuaiSang’s legs to replace the man’s fingers with his own. HuaiSang said a very colourful word that he didn’t even know he knew as he explored with his fingers, slipping them in and out to open him up. Small sounds burst from the younger man’s throat and he moved his hips in a way that made his smaller dick bounce between them. He half collapsed, sitting down onto XiChen’s hand which admittedly made it difficult to work, but the barely contained ecstasy on HuaiSang’s face was worth it.
When his fingers started moving easily and HuaiSang’s hips started rolling, chasing pleasure on the fingers, he added another and listened to the garbled sounds that HuaiSang babbled into his shoulder.
After a few more moments HuaiSang looked up at him with a wild look in his eyes.
“Stop,” he said as if the word was painful. “I want- I want.” He explained what he wanted with another roll of his hips and found the focus to look down and try to lift himself away from the fingers.
Lan XiChen pulled them out, making sure to go slow even though HuaiSang was practically clawing away the skin of XiChen’s chest looking for something to grab. XiChen poured more of the magical liquid from the vial onto himself and shifted HuaiSang’s hips to line up with his entrance.
“Go slow,” he warned, even though it took a lot of control not to just thrust up after he had been untouched for so long.
“Yes… yes,” Nie HuaiSang whispered, holding himself up and gently lowering down. As he started to stretch over his head, a flurry of expressions went over HuaiSang’s face at once. Pleasure, discomfort, arousal, fear, frustration at the fact that he wasn’t already entirely seated…
XiChen put his hands around his ass, helping hold him up in case his thighs gave way, and kissed him fiercely. HuaiSang moaned and began to move, slowly rocking himself down further and further as he had with his mouth. He felt amazing- tight, hot, and the slight tingle of the magical oil made everything hot-wet-amazing.
They kept like that for several minutes- Nie HuaiSang bobbing up and down painfully slowly, working his way open further while Lan XiChen held still, holding his weight up, kissing him, murmuring praises into his throat and collarbones. Eventually HuaiSang made it the whole way, resting his whole weight on XiChen’s thighs and gasping for breath.
“You feel so good.” There were tears in Nie HuaiSang’s eyes and it was hard to tell if they were from joy or pain.
“You feel so good too, A-Sang,” XiChen said through kisses, twitching a muscle inside him that made his cock move. HuaiSang gasped and shifted his hips just slightly, still getting used to the stretch.
He started to move- slowly raising and lowering himself in tiny motions that were just enough to get some small amount of friction. He carefully sped up, keeping the moves shallow and restrained. Their breaths rose in frequency as they moved together. It was a far cry from the long, smooth strokes that XiChen was used to, but it was exactly what they both needed.
XiChen wrapped his hand around HuaiSang’s cock and stroked it carefully. It was little more than a handful for the larger man, but just the touch seemed to send HuaiSang into a frenzy. He moved faster, raising a little higher than he had been. XiChen shifted his hips slightly for a better angle and all at once HuaiSang cried out, his eyes going wider than ever, and he spilled unexpectedly over XiChen’s stomach and chest.
XiChen stroked him through it, getting it all out as he felt the constant flickering of tension wrapped around his cock. It took several long seconds before HuaiSang fell against his shoulder, burying his face in the crook of his neck.
“I’m sorry,” he complained, “I didn’t mean to come so fast.” He still squirmed and clawed at XiChen's shoulders.
“Shh, I know. The first time is intense,” XiChen assured him, running his hands up and down the smooth, soft skin of his back.
“I wanted to be good for you,” HuaiSang whispered in a voice that punched XiChen in the gut.
“You are so good,” Lan XiChen kissed the top of his head and moved his hips lightly. He was still painfully hard inside him, but afraid to move in case it was too much so soon. “So good,” he assured.
“You didn’t-.” HuaiSang stilled and the expression on his face became serious as he seemed to be taking stock of his body. “Okay,” he whispered finally and started to move again. “I want you to come for me. I want you to come inside me.”
As if hearing the words out of his own mouth was a shock, Nie HuaiSang gasped, his face going red again. He moved slowly at first, finding his momentum before he planted his hands on XiChen’s chest and used it as leverage to lift up even further. He closed his eyes in concentration and XiChen couldn’t take his eyes off him.
The way his lips opened, wet from kissing, the way his eyes fluttered underneath he closed lids, and the way his muscles shifted under pale skin as he moved all worked to start the heat pooling low in Lan XiChen’s belly. He watched in awe, hands moving only to stroke gently along HuaiSang’s thighs, encouraging him to keep moving.
Impossibly HuaiSang seemed to be slowly getting harder again, and the thought that he was able to come back so soon made him wonder if there was something in the magical oil, or if he was just that young and strong that his body didn’t need as much rest. He stilled his hands on HuaiSang’s hips, holding him tight and feeling the move of the muscles and joints. He wanted so much to take over, to thrust up into him and to work out the last drops of his sadness with a good hard fuck but Nie HuaiSang was delicate, precious, and the last thing he wanted was to break him.
HuaiSang quivered at the difficulty of the repetitive motion. It took strength and stamina to keep it up, and soon he stilled to catch his breath. He was fully hard again and leaking, and his face crumpled into a miserable look at having to stop. Lan XiChen took this as permission and lifted his hips up with his hands, letting gravity bring him back down.
A grunt was pushed out of Nie HuaiSang and he looked down at Lan XiChen wildly, the breath he was starting to catch leaving him again.
“Please,” he begged, leaning down to kiss him over and over again. “Please, get on top I want you to-.” He bit his lip as if he didn’t want to finish the sentence.
“You want me to what?” XiChen said challengingly, rolling his hips in a way that made HuaiSang squiggle impatiently.
There was a pause before Nie HuaiSang gave him a long, chaste kiss on the lips and pulled back. He found his voice and said seriously, “I want you to fuck me into the mattress. I want you to fold me in half and put your cock as deep inside me as you can. I want you to use me as your toy and don’t stop until you climax.”
Lan Xichen almost did then and there. His eyebrows shot up to near his hairline as he looked at HuaiSang’s face, dumbfounded. He said he had read a lot of porn, but god, where had he learned to speak like that? Lan XiChen’s face heated instantly at the scandal of it as if several fires had been lit inside his skull and he searched the air around him for a single breath.
The instant he found it, he held Nie HuaiSang’s hips tightly against his own and flipped them over, pushing his back into the pillows beneath them. He lifted HuaiSang’s knees up to near his shoulders just as had been requested and slid almost all the way out before sliding in again with one hard, fluid motion.
HuaiSang sounded like he had been punched, and his head pushed back hard into the pillow behind him. There was a look of pure ecstasy on his face, like he finally understood every part of the universe. His Chakras were aligned, his golden core was glowing brighter than the sun, and the heavens were sending him personal invitations to attend post haste.
Lan XiChen did it again, finding a rhythm that had HuaiSang chanting small prayers, pleas, and XiChen’s name over and over. It was easier at that angle. Pushing his knees up opened him in a way that- if XiChen had been in control, he would have started with. The angle of the hip bones was never quite right in other angles, and it meant he could get deep and hard with every stroke. He also had more control, and with a little manoeuvring, found the spot inside him that had made him instantly climax the first time.
Nie HuaiSang held on to the intricate carvings on the end of the bed as if letting go would have him fall down a large ravine. Lan XiChen watched the rapture in his closed eyes and parted lips before taking HuaiSang’s cock into his hand, pumping it gently in time with his thrusts.
“Please, please, please,” HuaiSang begged, but it wasn’t clear what he was begging for. XiChen stopped the motion of his hand just long enough to pour another small drop of oil on it before returning with the new slickness that set HuaiSang’s hips canting to match the pace.
It took just a few thrusts once more before Nie Huaisang’s eyes squeezed closed harder and he cried, “Zuwu-Jun I’m gonna-,” and it was over for him.
Watching his face contort and feeling him tighten again made XiChen speed up just slightly until he too was crashing through his climax, letting the light and warmth flood his veins in a way cultivating could only dream of doing.
He fell to the side, avoiding falling directly on top of HuaiSang and quickly pulled him to his chest, squeezing him tightly. They lay together for several moments, catching their breaths and holding each other for dear life before HuaiSang stopped squeezing and moved to attack him with sloppy, dopey kisses from his sloppy, dopey grin.
Lan XiChen returned the kisses, relieved to finally feel an ounce of peace in his tired body. He stroked Nie HuaiSang’s hair and wrapped himself around him, soaking in the warmth. HuaiSang seemed too giddy for stillness and squirmed against him, laughter threatening to break out of his throat. His smile seemed endless, and XiChen wished he could match it but all he had was a small, gentle smile of thanks.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” HuaiSang dotted kisses over XiChen’s cheeks and forehead again until he caught his breath and turned to liquid in Lan XiChen’s arms. “It was even better than I dreamed,” he admitted.
“Mn,” Lan XiChen said happily, tucking his chin over the top of HuaiSang’s head. The exhaustion of all the tension he had been carrying around for months leaving him settled into his limbs and he dozed off with his face buried in the ylang ylang and rose scent of Nie HuaiSang’s hair.
When he woke up again, he was alone. The bed was cold, and it began to creep into his soul again.