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“Well, this is a surprise,” Kung Lao says when he walks into his room to find Liu Kang kneeling by the foot of the bed, shirtless and barefoot, his arms clasped behind him and his gaze lowered.
It’s not—not when Liu Kang has been sharing his bed for close to a year, and not when they’d talked through this exact scenario earlier. But feigning surprise is part of the game, as is the way Liu Kang darts a glance up through his eyelashes and then bows his head.
“Your Excellency,” Liu Kang says softly in greeting.
Kung Lao moves past him to sit on the bed, looks at him for a moment, and then slides two fingers under his chin, pressing up gently.
“Look at me,” he says, and Liu Kang obeys, lifting his eyes to Kung Lao’s face. “What’s your name?”
“Liu Kang, Excellency.”
“And what are you doing in my quarters, Liu Kang?”
“I—“ Liu Kang hesitates briefly, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “I was sent here as a gift, Excellency. From my people, in thanks for all you’ve done for us.”
In planning this out, they hadn’t established who exactly these people of Liu Kang’s are supposed to be or what Kung Lao is supposed to have done for them. In games like this, the backstory is often just a rough sketch, their focus more on the boundaries they each want to keep and the feeling they want the scenario to have.
“I don’t want to be unwilling,” Liu Kang told him as they were talking through this one. “But...nervous, maybe. Timid. Eager to please you, but also worried I won’t do it well enough.”
Kung Lao had nodded, rubbing his hand gently up and down Liu Kang’s back as they lay together, a soothing, grounding touch. “So I have all the power here?”
“Yes, but part of me likes that. It frightens me, knowing you could hurt me if you wanted—but I think I like that, too.”
Now, Kung Lao holds Liu Kang’s chin between thumb and forefinger, turning his head this way and that. “It isn’t every day I receive such a pretty gift. What do you suppose I should do, now that I have you?”
Color stains Liu Kang’s cheeks, but his answer comes readily. “Whatever you wish, Excellency.”
“Whatever I wish, hmm?” Kung Lao presses his thumb against the seam of Liu Kang’s lips until they part, then slips the digit into his mouth. “That’s a tempting offer.”
He slides his thumb further into the wet heat of Liu Kang’s mouth, and Liu Kang takes the hint, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he sucks.
“That’s good,” Kung Lao tells him, letting his voice go low and gravelly with desire. He pumps his thumb in and out of Liu Kang’s mouth, his free hand working on the fastenings of his clothing. He undresses just enough to pull out his cock, already swelling at having Liu Kang before him like this, pliant and eager. “You want to be good for me, don’t you? To please me?”
He pulls his hand away from Liu Kang’s mouth, tapping his cheek lightly to get him to look up. When he does, Kung Lao wraps a hand around his shaft and strokes, and Liu Kang’s eyes darken hungrily at the sight, pupils blown.
“Yes, Excellency. More than anything.” He glances from Kung Lao’s cock to his face, licking his lips deliberately. “May I…?”
Kung Lao gives himself another lazy stroke and then lets that hand fall to the side, his other reaching back to tangle in Liu Kang’s hair. “Come on, then,” he says, spreading his legs in invitation. “Show me how much you want this.”
Liu Kang shuffles closer on his knees. His arms are still held behind his back, each hand clasping the opposite wrist in a position he can hold comfortably for some time, but that requires him to actively do so. Kung Lao has tied him up before, as Liu Kang has him, and he likes that, too, the contrast of rope or fabric against Liu Kang's skin and the way it gives him something to both strain against and be held by. But there's something about this, Liu Kang restrained only by his own determination to hold the pose, that Kung Lao loves to watch.
In scenarios like this, it’s also a way for Liu Kang to signal his willingness to continue—if he drops his arms, they pause, at least long enough to check in with each other.
Firmly settled between Kung Lao’s spread knees, Liu Kang bends his head and glides his mouth along the shaft of his cock, letting the blunt head of it nudge his cheek. His tongue darts out for a gentle, exploratory lick, and Kung Lao pets his hair and breathes encouragement.
Kung Lao waits until Liu Kang parts his lips to take in the head of his cock. Then, without warning, he tightens his grip on the other’s hair and shoves his head down, forcing himself deeper into Liu Kang’s mouth. Liu Kang’s throat tightens at the intrusion and the hands at his back flex, but stay where they are. After a moment he lifts his gaze to Kung Lao’s, his eyes huge and trusting and eager, and gives a faint but perceptible nod.
Still holding him by the hair, Kung Lao brings his other hand up to cup Liu Kang’s face, tracing the swell of his cheekbone. As always, he’s awed by the trust his lover places in him, the way he can not only allow but enjoy being made into a plaything, a vessel for Kung Lao’s desire. He breaks character for just a moment to mouth love you, and Liu Kang’s eyes brighten in response before he lowers his gaze, slipping back into his perfectly docile, submissive persona.
Kung Lao starts fucking his mouth in earnest, then, fisting his hair and tracing the line of Liu Kang's lips where they stretch around him. Liu Kang moans and goes slack in his grip, letting himself be used.
"That's it, pretty thing," Kung Lao tells him. "You take my cock like you were made for it. Like you were made for me."
He's tempted to keep going, just like this. He could come down Liu Kang's throat, hold him in place and instruct him to swallow everything he's given. He could drag Liu Kang back by the hair and come on his face, make him stay like that until Kung Lao gives him permission to clean himself off.
But there's something Kung Lao wants more than either of those options, so he pulls Liu Kang off of his length now, while he's still achingly hard. A thread of saliva stretches obscenely between the head of his cock and Liu Kang's lips, the sight of it nearly undoing him.
Surprisingly, given how obedient he's been until now, Liu Kang resists, pulling against the hands on his head and trying to draw Kung Lao back into his mouth. "Mmn,” he murmurs, “let me,” and it almost destroys Kung Lao's resolve.
Almost.
"Be still," he says with just a touch of sternness, and Liu Kang instantly stops struggling, bowing his head in contrition.
“I have other plans for you,” Kung Lao says, stroking his hair. “Up.”
Liu Kang obeys, and Kung Lao undoes the sash at his waist and pushes his pants down, helping the other keep his balance as he steps out of them. The act reveals Liu Kang’s own erection, curving up against his belly, but Kung Lao ignores it to tug him close by the hips.
“Put your arms around my neck,” he says as he pulls Liu Kang onto his lap. Doing so requires Liu Kang to stop holding them behind his back, but once he has his fingers laced at the base of Kung Lao’s neck, the same principle applies of letting go if he needs to stop.
Kung Lao brings his hands to the back of Liu Kang’s legs, gliding over well-muscled thighs and then up to the cleft of his ass. He finds Liu Kang already slick and open, and Kung Lao raises his eyebrows as he sinks one finger into him, drawing a gasp.
“You already prepared yourself?” he asks, and Liu Kang nods.
“I wanted—ah—to be ready for you, Excellency. For however you might wish to use me.”
Kung Lao presses in with a second finger, making Liu Kang writhe on his lap. “I like your initiative,” he says, tilting his head up to nip at Liu Kang’s jaw. “But next time, you’ll wait and let me open you up myself.”
He twists his fingers and Liu Kang lets out a soft cry, then echoes hopefully, “Next time, Excellency? Then...you mean to have me again?”
Kung Lao presses a kiss to the side of his neck. “Sweet one, I don’t mean to let you go.”
“Oh,” Liu Kang breathes out, and ducks his head to bury his face against Kung Lao’s chest, still holding him tight around the neck.
Kung Lao kisses the top of his head, taking a moment to just breathe in the scent of him, and then grips his ass in both hands, spreading him. “Here,” he murmurs, and guides Liu Kang onto his cock, sliding home in one slow, easy thrust.
Liu Kang is pliant as Kung Lao fucks him, leaning into him and making no move to touch his own cock. He’s also vocal in his pleasure, letting out a torrent of yes and please and sometimes just wordless moans. Kung Lao knows when he’s found the place inside that makes his lover’s body sing with pleasure, because Liu Kang’s back arches and his cries become a steady staccato rhythm of ah, ah as Kung Lao slams into that spot mercilessly, again and again.
Without slowing his thrusts, he gathers Liu Kang close, turning his head to whisper in his ear. “You will let me keep you, won’t you? You’ll warm my bed, you’ll be mine?”
“Yes, yes,” Liu Kang replies in a near sob. “Please let me be yours, I want to so badly—“
His climax takes them both off guard, voice breaking off in a ragged cry as he spills between them without a hand on his cock. Kung Lao growls and fucks him harder, faster, until he tumbles over the edge, gripping Liu Kang tight and coming deep inside him.
Liu Kang pants against him, loose-limbed and heavy, and Kung Lao cups the back of his head and presses a kiss to his temple.
“All right, shidi?” he asks, the familiar endearment signaling the end of the game.
Liu Kang nods, tilting his head to nuzzle the underside of Kung Lao’s jaw. “You?”
Kung Lao hums his assent, flopping back on the bed. Liu Kang goes with him, arms still around his neck.
“Thank you, shixiong,” he murmurs, face pressed to Kung Lao’s neck. “That was...it was what I needed tonight.”
Kung Lao squeezes him, overcome for a moment with just how much he loves this man. “I meant a good deal of what I said during that, you know,” he says past the tightness in his chest. “I don’t mean to let you go, ever.”
“I know,” Liu Kang answers. He unlaces his fingers from around Kung Lao’s neck to flatten his palm over his lover’s heart. “And there’s nothing I want more than to be yours.”