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Everything's fucked and Wei Ying needs to laugh, even as he wants nothing more than to moan the older man's name into the cool surface of the glass door which separates them from the colourful glow of the city at sunset. He needs a second, just a second, to look back and laugh at how so much chaotic bullshit converged into this terrible, exhilarating moment. So many ridiculous coincidences, so many unforced errors, all to end pushed up against the glass, naked, face wet with overwhelmed tears and Lan Zhan leaving yet another mark on his once pristine skin.

"Lan Zhan, please, please be kinder to your Wei Ying", he whines into his own wrecked reflection, fogging it up with his laboured breaths.

"Shut up", says Lan Zhan, pushing him further, until his chest joins his face against the door and he involuntarily rubs himself along the glass, the bars of his pierced nipples making a faint clicking sound against it. "You do not get to call me that anymore."

He feels himself throb and tremble, and Lan Zhan throbs behind him in almost perfect synch. The unmistakable shape of his arousal presses into the space between his cheeks, threatening. Gone are the soft touches on his lower back, the tender cradling of his chin and cheekbones between big, strong fingers, and the feather-light kisses on the corner of his lips. His lover has replaced them all with a bruising grip on his waist, and those same fingers now pull on his hair, exposing his long neck to scorching kisses full of teeth and harsh words. There is no affection to this anymore, and Wei Ying is frightened by how much that stirs his need.

The tall buildings on the other side of the street are lighting up like discoordinated Christmas lights, and Wei Ying can easily imagine how he would appear to the people in them if they looked out their windows right now. Perhaps that is what Lan Zhan wants: to expose them completely. No more anonymity, no more double life. The two of them laid bare to the whole world. Perhaps that is Lan Zhan's idea of a punishment. 

"Gege..." Wei Ying pleads. "Lan-er-gege, daddy, please, don't let the neighbours see your Wei Ying like this."

"I do not care", Lan Zhan says. The hand on Wei Ying's waist caresses its way to his chest, and those strong fingers pinch and pull on his already delicate nipples. "If they want, they can have Wei Ying too when I'm done."

He tries to squirm, to shift around, to struggle, but his hands are bound behind his back and Lan Zhan is so much bigger than him. Yet more importantly, despite everything, despite the humiliation (or perhaps because of it), he doesn't want to use their safeword even now. He doesn't want to stop this. This is good, so good. It's the hottest he's ever felt. And he wants to do this for Lan Zhan. Even if it's not enough to make amends, to convince Lan Zhan to stay, it's how he wants to say goodbye.

"But your Wei Ying doesn't want anyone else", he mewls, leaning into those rough fingers, gladly offering his increasingly sore buds for more of that abuse. "I'm all yours, Lan-er-gege. Only yours. I'm all at gege's mercy."

He likes to believe that he sees a brief glimmer of fondness in the reflection of Lan Zhan's eyes, before the hand pulling at his hair lets go so it can grab his face, turn it around and spit into his mouth.

College isn't cheap, nor is transitioning without health insurance. Even if Wei Ying managed to land a formal entry-level job in IT after getting his degree, the abyss of debt would still loom large over his life, eager to devour even his most modest dreams. The fact that he didn't fall for a get-rich-quick scheme nor started an OnlyFans once he left his campus for the last time is, in retrospect, kind of miraculous.

So, after a lot of unsuccessful interviews, he takes Lan Xichen up on his offer. His didi needs someone to babysit his kid and he's offering three times the minimum wage. It's not an obscene amount of money, given that it's not actually a full-time job, but it still sounds far better than working for a small business tyrant who makes a point of keeping his workers' tips. And besides, Wei Ying loves kids.

He tries to be good. He really tries.

Lan Zhan's saliva feels like lava on his parted lips. It burns him and destroys him.

"Gege, daddy... won't you please kiss your Wei Ying?"

Lan Zhan answers by spitting into his mouth a second time and pressing a thick, long thumb past his lips. He pulls and spreads, making Wei Ying form a small but slowly widening "o" around the digit. They've done this before, but never without a lot of kisses before and after. Never without Lan Zhan going out of his way to make sure Wei Ying wants it. Will there even be any aftercare when they're done? Will Lan Zhan just leave him dirty and used and ruined? The thought horrifies him, but not enough to keep himself from sucking and nibbling on that thumb, begging for some tenderness with his grey eyes.

Lan Zhan's face, however, does not budge. He pulls his thumb out and replaces it with two fingers, then three, and fucks Wei Ying's mouth with them. When Wei Ying goes quiet, getting comfortable with the rhythm of Lan Zhan's thrusts, Lan Zhan pulls on his pierced nipple again, and Wei Ying moans.

"Let me be good", he mewls around those fingers. "Let your Wei Ying be good."

"Wei Ying is not good", Lan Zhan growls, shoving those three fingers all the way to the back of Wei Ying's throat, forcing a series of pained gags out of him. He doesn't relent for many devastating seconds.

"Wei Ying... is... not... good", he repeats, letting each word sit in Wei Ying's heart with a single deep thrust, then sighs as his marble-hard expression cracks just a tiny bit.

Wei Ying arrives for his first day as a babysitter half an hour late. Not his fault, he lies to himself, but even so he spends the last half-mile of the path to Lan Wangji's house preparing every conceivable apology. By the time he rings the doorbell, he has a dozen on the tip of his tongue, ready to hit his new employer like an avalanche and, hopefully, not get fired before he even starts.

All those words dissolve when the front door opens and he comes face to face with a man so handsome that, in his personal opinion, he can't possibly exist. Lan Xichen is good-looking too, yes, but he wears his looks differently. Lan Wangji has a way of making the sharp line of his jaw stand out with his firm expression. His lips are set into a thin line and his golden eyes are enthralling in how hard to read they are. It doesn't help one bit when, in his attempt to look away from those eyes, he finds that the older man's dress shirt is a tight fight, delineating a strong, imposing frame.

"Ah, Lan-er-gege", he blurts out and longs for death. To his credit, Lan Wangji doesn't react to that beyond a very slight and brief widening of his eyes. Then he just makes a small "mn" noise, which gives Wei Ying his first hint that this man has the perfect voice to match his looks.

"You must be Wei Wuxian. You are late."

It's an awkward day. A day of short questions, frantic answers and long pauses. Yet after a while Lan Wangji nods approvingly and shows him to Lan Sizhui's room. There Wei Ying is greeted by the politest three-year-old he's ever met, and spends the next two hours listening to the little boy tell him all about his two dozen stuffed bunnies. It takes Wei Ying surprisingly little time to adapt to Sizhui's needs and wants. He's very sweet and clever for his age, and he laughs at the games and stories that Wei Ying improvises for him. The only rule is that the loser of the games gets a hug, a rule which Sizhui quite blatantly exploits.

As the sun sets, casting a dim purple light on the world, Wei Ying finds himself sitting on Lan Wangji's couch, drinking tea with a little black bunny that Sizhui has given him as a welcome gift. Even though it's not a real bunny, Wei Ying can't help but pet it as he has a strangely pleasant chat with Lan Wangji. The man is a cybersecurity expert, which in practice means that he spends his days teaching corporate executives not to click on suspicious links just because an attractive stranger online sent them. Wei Ying laughs at the examples Lan Wangji brings up at his prompting, and he'd like to think that Lan Wangji smiles when he makes jokes about some of them. He thinks he'd like to have more of that smile.

Still, he tries to be good. Lan Wangji is over a decade older than him. And besides, a babysitter and a hot single dad? That's stupid. Real life is not porn and he has bills to pay.

Lan Zhan doesn't fuck him against his balcony door, but he doesn't take him to his bed either. He unties Wei Ying and walks away, leaving him still pressed up against the glass, shaking as he watches him go to Wei Ying's downtrodden couch and lie back on it. His pale skin takes on a beautiful hue under the neon lights decorating Wei Ying's small apartment, but the lights can't do much against the dark patch of hair that sneaks out of the waistband of Lan Zhan's pants. A trail which leads to the first cock that has ever fucked him, and Wei Ying can't even begin to imagine himself ever enjoying somebody else.

"Wei Ying, come here", Lan Zhan commands him, but it's softer now.

Wei Ying goes to him on shaky legs, straddles his hips with his pillowy thighs, and feels that hard bulge beneath him again. He wants to rock himself against it, but Lan Zhan's hands are on him again, holding him still. His fingers sink into his thighs, so painfully strong, and Wei Ying wishes it was Lan Zhan's cock sinking inside him.

"Give me your hands."

Wei Ying obeys, though the skin around his wrists is already quite red. Lan Zhan takes his hands and binds them together with his own hair tie again, and Wei Ying lets out a few small gasps at the sight of it. Will Lan Zhan leave him like this when he leaves him? He's done it before. He's left Wei Ying tied up to his bed for hours, using his cunt and ass and mouth whenever he feels like it, making Wei Ying come just to hear him cry out. Lan Zhan likes the sound of his voice, he knows, but he specially enjoys hearing him lose all eloquence as ecstasy becomes its own language. One of the many delightfully filthy things Wei Ying has discovered with this man, things he doesn't want to give up.

He's so fixated on his bound wrists and the memories they bring that it truly shocks him when Lan Zhan slaps his face. It's not so hard as to seriously hurt him, but it stings all the same and Wei Ying feels himself tear up again. It's just the right sort of pain, the perfect kind of shame. Even as a pitiful noise escapes him, he unconsciously leans in with his dripping eyes closed.

"Look at me, Wei Ying."

He sobs as he obeys. Those eyes of molten gold shine with want, kindling in Wei Ying the hope that this is how they'll fix things, that when they're done Lan Zhan will still love him and kiss him and cuddle him until the next day comes.

Lan Zhan slaps him again and Wei Ying stifles a yelp, but he can't hide the goosebumps spreading over him. He's falling, plunging head-first into that place in his mind that only Lan Zhan has reached. It was Lan Zhan who unlocked it in the first place, or maybe he created it from nothing. Perhaps Wei Ying truly was chaste, virginal, before he met him.

"Gege, why do you slap your Wei Ying?" he plays coy, seamlessly slipping into that role that they both created for him over the course of their encounters. By now it's second-nature to him, a performance he knows so well that he can almost believe it. He wishes he didn't know that it's a game they play, a way of erasing reality and its complications from the equation of this affair they've had. The world they inhabit in moments such as this is very simple, as are its characters.

A third slap. Wei Ying's cheeks feel warm and he imagines himself later tonight, when he's staring into his bathroom mirror, tracing the marks of Lan Zhan's fingers on his skin.

"I slap Wei Ying because Wei Ying is not good", Lan Zhan states, so dry, so cold, so perfect. It's demeaning, uncaring, a ruthless discipline that Wei Ying has surrendered to again and again, though seldom without a fight. It's a tug of war between his need to be praised, to feel worthy of affection, and a sinful craving for dominance, for possessiveness. He wants to be loved, he wants to be owned. He wants to live free but be kept tied down. He still wants a kiss, but he feels like he'll die if Lan Zhan doesn't slap him again.

"I wanted to be good", he whispers, mostly to himself, as his hands roam the vast expanse of Lan Zhan's chest. "I really tried, Lan Zhan."

The fourth slap comes at last and Wei Ying's insides are melting.

Wei Ying tries to be good. He tries to funnel all of his fickle attention towards Sizhui, away from the intrusive thoughts about the boy's father that infiltrate his mind like a constant procession of Trojan horses. But he can only avoid Lan Wangji's subtle smiles for so long, nor can he ignore how huge Lan Wangji's hands look when they hold a cup of tea.

He tries to be good, but Lan Wangji's presence alone is enough to erode his resolve and chip away at the state of denial he's put himself in. He may be a closeted virgin, but his body clearly knows what it wants as it reacts to Lan Wangji all on its own. His skin grows flushed, goosebumps follow the path of his spine, and his hands ache to do many things at once, all of them illicit.

I'm just being a stupid virgin, he forces himself to think even as his knees threaten to give out when Lan Wangji pays him for another good day's work and holds his hand as he does it. Read too many horny mangas. I don't even like guys, let alone older ones.

He tries to busy himself with programming in his spare time, and any time left after that he spends on creating cool new games to play with Sizhui. He even learns how to cook child-appropriate recipes. He's not any good at it (although Sizhui is very smug about the fact that he can withstand Wei Ying's obscene use of spices), but it keeps his mind full enough that he almost doesn't think about the shape of Lan Wangji's legs under a pair of grey yoga pants he catches the man wearing one weekend.

It is only late at night, when he's lying down in his cheap, second-hand bed, covered in ratty old blankets and listening to New Age music to fall asleep, that he is utterly defenseless against his growing need for that man. A wonderful tension seizes his limbs and his stomach as his hands sneak under the rough fabric. His fingers touch him where he wishes Lan Wangji's would, and he wishes he could simulate a pair of lips, a tongue, a hot breath against his chest, his navel, his thighs. But when those moments come, he doesn't think about Lan Wangji's towering physique or the divine lines of his face. Instead, he conjures up memories of Lan Wangji speaking to him, listening to him, praising him, scolding him. He remembers Lan Wangji's voice, a slow drip of warmed honey when he thanks him for taking such good care of his son, a gentle cold stream when he protests his silliness, when he calls him 'shameless' for saying too much. He thinks of that voice forming other words, in different contexts, and he comes apart.

Wei Ying tries to be good, but one day Lan Wangji invites him over for dinner, and he quickly runs out of reasons to refuse. He does put a lot of effort into making it all about Sizhui, who is overjoyed to have dinner with his new best friend. Lan Wangji mentions that his baby name was A-Yuan, which Wei Ying immediately capitalizes on. He likes the sound of that name. A week later it happens again, then again and again and again, until it becomes a weekly tradition, one which Wei Ying both cherishes and dreads, because it's almost too intimate.

Then one day he crosses paths with Lan Wangji on the street by pure chance. It's all too tempting to try and get an invitation for a coffee (and a muffin, and maybe even a generous brunch) from the man, but Lan Wangji seemingly reads his intent and flanks him. He invites Wei Ying to dinner later that day, just the two of them. A-Yuan is with his uncle and great-uncle today. Lan Wangji wants to know him better, to know the man that A-Yuan can never stop talking about. He sounds amused by that, rather than jealous.

At that first dinner, they indulge in the sort of private conversation that they can't have when Wei Ying is just about to leave after a day of babysitting. Wei Ying protects all that he can of himself from Lan Wangji's strange curiosity, but his defenses are stretched thin and Lan Wangji's subtle interest is alluring. He wants this man to look at him like that for hours.

He talks about his big sister. "She didn't want me to get into computer science, you know? I mean, she supported me all the way, sure, and sent me treats every week. But she didn't like how college sometimes stressed me out and left me drinking myself to sleep every night. She said she missed my smiles a lot."

He gives Lan Wangji a big smile, as a demonstration. The older man's eyes watch intently.

"Did I mention her kid's a little bit younger than A-Yuan? I wanted to be his godfather so bad! Even chose the coolest name for him! But then stuff happened and they named him A-Ling, which is just lame. He's got a huge temper too, just like my baby bro, haha."

"Mn", says Lan Wangji, in between sips of iced tea (no alcohol).

"My baby bro is ninety-nine percent frowns, specially when I'm around, but now and then you can catch him tearing up over the littlest things..."


That sound is what he hears the most from Lan Wangji as he monologues, but he can't find any hints of distraction in Lan Wangji's gaze. If he's thinking about anything else, he sure isn't showing it. So Wei Ying keeps talking, fills the dull air of the obscenely expensive veggie restaurant with as much as he dares to say. He even mentions his debts and overall strained finances, though he tries very hard not to make it sound like a complaint, like he's got real problems. Lan Wangji doesn't need to be burdened with his petty, youthful woes. The man is a full-time worker and a devoted father who always gets home at the exact same hour, never a minute late, no matter how busy his day at work might have been. Even when he comes back looking beyond exhausted, he's always right on time and ready to make dinner for his son and play gentle games with him.

Lan Wangji is a good man. A very proper man. Yet Wei Ying's head is filled with sinful thoughts before the man talks to him again.

"Does Wei Ying need a raise?"

He does. Desperately. He needs a raise, health insurance, a decent apartment, a pair of arms around him, a pair of lips kissing him, and that voice telling him he's good even though he isn't. He knows he isn't, because he can see the bulge of Lan Wangji's arms under his pale blue dress shirt and his thoughts of being hugged turn into something filthy.

In the end, he shakes his head and laughs.

"Aiya, it's all good, Mr Lan! I make do with the occasional odd job. Haven't missed rent a single time, I swear!"

He's not lying, but he is omitting that even with odd jobs, he's put a lot of strain on his credit card just to feed himself. Things that Lan Wangji doesn't need to know, not when there's a glimmer of a fond smile on his lips as Wei Ying redirects their conversation to some other topic. They don't have a lot in common, except maybe for this unspoken thing he can't quite describe.

In the following days, Lan Wangji tries to sneak a few extra bills into the envelope he hands to Wei Ying before he leaves every night. He starts buying Wei Ying whole grain toasts with cherry tomatoes and avocado every morning and leaving them on the Lan home's kitchen counter with a short but stern note demanding that he feeds himself properly before looking after his son. He also asks Wei Ying out for dinner again, and Wei Ying spends the whole bus trip to the restaurant reminding himself that it's not a date. He reminds himself that Lan Wangji is just being needlessly generous because Wei Ying's mouth got the best of him and made him sound like he's living on the edge of homelessness and starvation, which might be true but is also not that big a deal. He's been hungry before and nobody should worry so much about him.

Wei Ying thinks it's fucked up how much he enjoys this attention, how much he basks in the way that Lan Wangji starts to gain a foothold in his life, taking care of him with a plethora of gestures. Some are subtle, almost imperceptible, while others are awkwardly blatant. Wei Ying never questions how weird his instinctive reluctance to feel cared for is. He can't afford a psychoanalyst to delve into that and he doesn't trust his own brain with that kind of sensitive information.

Wei Ying tries to be good, but the pressure is mounting on all fronts and he thinks of himself as too untamed to handle it all.

Lan Zhan has slapped him seven times by now, and every strike is sweeter than the last. His face stings but he can't stop himself from babbling. He calls out his lover's name between sobs, rocking into the other man's lap, and alternates between whining and begging for more. His thighs are spread wide open around Lan Wangji's lap, too much to be comfortable, but that has always been one of the many blessed curses, or cursed blessings, of being Lan Zhan's boyfriend. He's too big in the most perfect of ways. He tests Wei Ying's resolve, forces him to admit to himself how much he wants and needs to feel this kind of strain.

"Lan Zhaaan", he mewls when the man's palm hits his cheek again, softer now. Those long fingers hold him once the palm is done smacking him, and they touch him ever so lightly. They caress his swollen lower lip, wipe his ugly tears from his cheekbones, and hold his weirdly drowsy head in place. "Lan Zhaaaaaan, please fuck your Wei Ying."

He can tell that his cunt has started to soak the fabric of Lan Zhan's pants, and it frightens him how immediately his thoughts turn to an imminent punishment for ruining those expensive clothes. As if he hasn't ruined enough. Will Lan Zhan slap his folds next? Will he torture Wei Ying's most vulnerable place? He hopes he does.

He wants it, almost as much as he wanted Lan Zhan to eat him out when they first made love. Wei Ying's first time. The knowledge that he was the first to truly taste Wei Ying unleashed something in the older man then. Lan Zhan delved into him so eagerly, so forcefully, so lovingly, that Wei Ying could do little else but keep talking, keep begging and thanking and telling Lan Zhan how good he was to him.

"Daddy, gege, take my virginity again. It's all yours."

"Don't talk nonsense."

He gets slapped a ninth time, but Lan Zhan's other hand is holding his ass like it's a fragile treasure. He's keeping Wei Ying steady, helping him stay grounded.

"Wei Ying is already ruined", says Lan Zhan, with not nearly enough of a vicious bite in his voice. He doesn't mean it, though the self-destructive part of Wei Ying wishes he did. "Nothing left but a bad boy who pulls evil tricks. Not even a good slut."

It's not enough.

"Make me a good slut again", he pleads with his forefingers following the trail down to his outer lips. He spreads himself just a bit, just to show Lan Zhan. "Split me open on gege's cock. Fuck a baby into me."

Lan Zhan pushes Wei Ying's hands away from there, but nothing else. "I don't want Wei Ying's cunt."

Wei Ying almost grins, teasing. "But I want to give A-Yuan a baby brother..."

"Wei Ying's cunt is not even worth breeding anymore."

And yet Lan Zhan's fingers have replaced Wei Ying's, so big that just one gives him his first taste of that stretching sensation he's come to love.

"Then take my ass, take my mouth, take anything you want..."

Lan Zhan's finger, however, does not abandon his cunt. Nor does the hand he keeps on Wei Ying's ass reach between his cheeks. He's had all of Wei Ying, and Wei Ying has had all of him. Wei Ying loves him. It's maddening how much he loves him.

"Gege..." he tries to lean forward, to get his chest as close to Lan Zhan's as his flexibility and their position will allow, and he gets so tantalizingly close. He can feel Lan Zhan's even breaths on his face. "Gege, please. I love you."

Lan Zhan adds a second finger. He ruthlessly impales Wei Ying's cunt on both digits. "Say it again."

Wei Ying is shaking. His heart doesn't hesitate, but his body is struggling. Still, he says it again. "I love you."

"Did you also love me when you started scamming my clients? When you put my livelihood at risk?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Wei Ying almost never says 'sorry'. He hates that word almost as much as he hates 'please'. But Lan Zhan is nothing if not an expert at pulverizing his barriers and making him say those words. Perhaps that is part of why he loves him, along with all the other reasons he's accumulated over these many months: because Lan Zhan helps him be honest with himself.

Wei Ying tries to be good, but one day his brain sabotages him. He forgets that A-Yuan is visiting his uncle and great-uncle again and shows up in Lan Wangji's home, fashionably late as usual. It's a weekend, which he knows doesn't usually mean much to Lan Wangji's weekly schedule, except when it does. That day, Lan Wangji finally has some time off, and so Wei Ying gets his first look at what Lan Wangji is like without any responsibilities to keep him busy. And Wei Ying discovers that the answer is apparently some combination of 'tired' and 'lonely'.

He stays with Lan Wangji all day. The colours of the world come and go as the hours pass and they remain there, alone. Wei Ying offers to leave again and again, to let Lan Wangji relax. Lan Wangji's posture is shockingly imperfect, his features are not as set in stone as usual. He obviously needs to rest, yet Lan Wangji insists. He wants to spend more time with Wei Ying. It's quiet at home without A-Yuan, and as much as he needs to lie down and get his back a long overdue massage, he likes Wei Ying's company.

Wei Ying impulsively offers him a massage, even though he doesn't know the first thing about giving one. Lan Wangji takes an agonizing second to accept. It's too much for Wei Ying, but neither of them stops. Then the older man plays him some music on his guqin. Wei Ying doesn't know the first thing about classical Chinese music, but he is transfixed by the lake-like calm in Lan Wangji's face as the notes flow through his fingers.

They eat dinner together and chat. Wei Ying monologues, Lan Wangji comments with a few concise words. After a while, he insists that Wei Ying call him Lan Zhan. Even though something in Wei Ying's brain demands that he still speak to this man reverently, he agrees. 'Lan Zhan' feels nice on his tongue. It makes him want to chuckle like an idiot.

It is after dinner, when Lan Zhan is an hour away from going to bed and they're sharing some tea, which Lan Zhan has generously laced with liquor, that they make a mistake. Wei Ying's tongue gets too comfortable, loosens just a bit too much, and he talks about his love life. He doesn't have one. He tries to come up with excuses for why, because he's certainly not going to dig deep into his insecurities in front of Lan Zhan. He goes for the usual suspects, and Lan Zhan doesn't react to any of them, except for one.

"Wei Ying is beautiful."

It is so unlike Lan Zhan to interrupt him. It's like he's afraid that he'll break some spell if the severs the string of Wei Ying's thoughts. Yet now he seems to disagree so strongly with Wei Ying's words that he does it anyway. And Wei Ying doesn't know how to reply at first.

"I... I'm not saying I'm ugly, Lan Zhan, haha!" he nervously laughs it off, but Lan Zhan does not relent.

"Wei Ying is beautiful", he repeats, and only then does Wei Ying notice a large but timid hand on his thigh. When did they even start sitting so close together on Lan Zhan's couch?

Wei Ying doesn't recoil from that touch, though his brain recoils from the words that come with it. "Lan Zhan, you shouldn't say such things!"

The other retreats, but it's not an offended gesture. It's careful, caring. "I apologize. That was inappropriate."

If Wei Ying was a good and honest person, he'd confess that it's far more appropriate than what Wei Ying is thinking in that moment. It's definitely more appropriate than what Wei Ying does.

He kisses Lan Zhan.

It's idiotic, uncomfortable and far too short. He wants to do it again, and his brain is just drunk enough that it can't make him flee from the scene of the crime. All he needs is for Lan Zhan to move, to make an expression, to do anything other than be the paralyzed mountain of beautiful manhood he is right now, sitting on that couch, staring at him. If Wei Ying was sober, he would notice that Lan Zhan is not breathing, that the gold in his eyes has heated up, and that his hand is slowly inching back to Wei Ying's thigh.

Lan Zhan kisses him back. He tastes like tea and liquor, and Wei Ying feels guilty. The liquor was his own stupid idea and, clearly, he has corrupted this virtuous man with it. But the other is too unrelenting in his unexpected affection, and so the guilt fades, muzzled by those lips upon his own. It's all out of his control now.

They make out on Lan Zhan's couch. It's not nearly as clumsy and messy as when Wei Ying was a teenager. There are more years of experience between them, it looks like. And maturity, even under the veil of drunkenness. It comes with a grip around Wei Ying's waist that's not too hard, and fingers that caress the back of Lan Zhan's head without pulling on his hair. It's everything but selfish, how they melt into each other for a moment.

A phone call cuts it short. Lan Xichen wants to let Lan Zhan know that A-Yuan has gone to bed and will be back after breakfast the next morning, as planned.

They have the time and the desire, but it's as if the thought of A-Yuan washes away the alcoholic fog and rebuilds their inhibitions. They don't kiss again. Wei Ying agrees to sleep on the couch, since it's too late to take the train home now and Lan Zhan says very little as he leaves him.

Wei Ying has a dream that night.

In that dream, he's still on that couch, trying to sleep, until he realizes that neither of them can. Noises keep coming from Lan Zhan's room.

In that dream, he's too virginal to understand what those noises mean.

In that dream, he is shocked to see Lan Zhan lying on his back in his bed, groaning and gasping and whispering unintelligible things while he thrusts into a see-through fleshlight. The way his hips move is deliberately rough, a controlled domination of the artificial hole held in his large hand. The fact that his hand dwarfs the circumference of the sex toy doesn't punch Wei Ying in the gut almost as much as the realization that the whole can barely withstand Lan Zhan's girth and still has an inch or two left to take. It's impossible not to feel pulled into the scene. His survival instinct gives way to the reality of having Lan Zhan fucking something in front of him while saying Wei Ying's name. He is definitely saying his name, as well as many other things directed at whatever idea of him his name conjures in the other's mind.

In that dream, Wei Ying sneaks into Lan Zhan's room and takes the toy's place.

Lan Zhan makes him impale himself on his cock. His body slides down, inch by inch, down that perfect length. He fills himself with it, tortures himself with the pressure against his inner walls, the pain of being stretched so much by that girth. Wei Ying feels small even when on top and he adores it.

The rules are simple: he must make Lan Zhan come inside him. He must make Lan Zhan breed him for the first and last time. After all those times he begged Lan Zhan to put his condoms away and fuck him bareback, only now, at the end, will Lan Zhan indulge him. It's unfair. It's unfair how eagerly Wei Ying's body reacts to that promise, long overdue, when he knows in his heart that it's not a gift. It's not a kindness. Not when he must do it to himself, nobody to hold responsible but himself. If he makes Lan Zhan come inside him, to fill him with his spend, unprotected, Wei Ying will have no one else to blame, no one else to deal with the consequences.

The realization hits him as an implosion of nausea, humiliation and need. So he tries, with his pretty face full of fresh tears.

"Gege, you're too big", he cries as he tries and fails to get those last two inches inside himself. Already his legs are straining from the effort, only adding to his helplessness. "Gege, you're going to break your Wei Ying."

Lan Zhan doesn't move. His arms are behind his head, his hips are perfectly still. He's not helping him take it, as he often does. He does speak, however, with a low voice masked with feigned disinterest.

"Then break."

Wei Ying tries to be good. When he sees Lan Zhan again, a few days later, he pretends that nothing happened. And Lan Zhan, good man that he is, joins him in the pretense. Besides, A-Yuan demands their attention. He's going to the daycare again and he's nervous. He needs his baba and his Wei-gege to reassure him, to promise him that they'll come pick him up later and take him to the park and buy him a little chocolate and raspberry muffin. Neither of them can refuse him.

Wei Ying kisses the kid's cheeks until all of his nervous little noises die down, then falls back so Lan Zhan can deliver the coup de grace. He lifts A-Yuan in his arms, holds him close and softly kisses the top of his head. A-Yuan's body relaxes at long last, and Lan Zhan asks him to try to make friends, to be kind and courteous for them both. They see him off with their own unique waves, and perhaps they should then go on their separate ways, but they don't. Lan Zhan is already late for work, but he doesn't budge from Wei Ying's side.

They have breakfast together in Lan Zhan's home, and it happens again. This time, Wei Ying can't even hide behind liquor. Lan Zhan is pure determination against him, not even a shred of hesitance in how he grips Wei Ying's chin and makes him part his lips so he can kiss him deeper. Untarnished by alcohol, Wei Ying gets to taste Lan Zhan as he truly is. Soon, he's mewling for more.

There's fumbling, not out of nervousness but rather out of impatience. This is not and has never been unrequited. Lan Zhan wants him. Lan Zhan has always wanted him, from the moment Wei Ying appeared half an hour late on the first day. Lan Zhan is tired of denying himself, of denying them both, and Wei Ying's inhibitions crack with every press of their lips, with every touch of Lan Zhan's fingers.

The scenery changes in their frenzy. The kitchen becomes the couch, then the couch becomes Lan Zhan's bed. Except there is no sex toy for Lan Zhan to fuck and fill. There's only Wei Ying.

"Lan Zhan", he moans into the man's hair as the other sucks on his neck. "Be kind to me. It's my first time."

It's a shameful confession. Wei Ying wishes the earth would swallow him whole as Lan Zhan pauses his ministrations. Why must his mouth betray him like this?

But then Lan Zhan is moving again, fiercer, more voracious than before. He bites between shuddering thrusts over their clothes. "Wei Ying has had no one else?"


"Does Wei Ying want me to be the first?"

His inner voice answers again and again, until it can finally take ahold of his tongue and speak for him.

Yes, Lan Zhan.

Yes, Lan-er-gege.

"Yes, daddy."

"Yes, daddy", Wei Ying mewls when Lan Zhan slaps him and tells him to pick up the pace.

It's been a while now, though Wei Ying's mind is already too broken to even guess how much time has passed, and Wei Ying is tired. His lower body hurts from raising and lowering his hips again and again. He has so little stamina left, barely enough to rock and roll his hips, massaging Lan Zhan's large cock inside his cunt, but Lan Zhan demands more. He looks and sounds almost bored, disappointed. He's hard but nowhere close to coming, and Wei Ying is afraid of failing him.

He makes pitiful noises, all but begging for some relief, for a single thrust of Lan Zhan's hips. All he gets is that exhilarating stretch, the pain of being filled past any comfort, of being turned into Lan Zhan's tight cock-warmer.

Lan Zhan watches him struggle and slaps him when he gets too slow. Mostly his face, but sometimes also his ass, and Wei Ying keens. Lan Zhan is giving him almost full control over this. He's forcing him to choose, to acknowledge his own emotions and his needs and to act on them. And yet, all that Wei Ying can think of is Lan Zhan. He wants to kiss him. He wants to apologize and promise him that he'll never lie to him again, and then kiss him until the sun rises. He wants Lan Zhan's cum in his cunt, to leave him dripping and filled with his warmth and make him feel owned, wanted. The pain adds to the pleasure in a way that pushes him again and again into a shattering climax that slowly but surely obliterates his ability to speak, to think, to remember anything other than this instant.

Wei Ying tries to be good, but he falls in love. He falls in love and tries to hide it.

"For A-Yuan's sake", he lies to Lan Zhan a couple of months into their affair. "He loves his baba sooooo much and I don't want him to be upset with you if it doesn't work out."

He's lying. He's protecting himself from his shame and his fear and his disbelief in his own worth. Because Lan Zhan says that he's serious about him, that he's not going to date anyone else, that Wei Ying is all he wants. But Wei Ying is much younger and prone to fucking up and not nearly good enough. He's a dumbass who barely manages to live paycheck to paycheck and would most likely drag Lan Zhan down if they had an actual relationship.

However, they don't stop. Even if it must stay a dirty secret, they find their moments for tenderness, for affection. Most of all, however, they spend their intimacy lost in the intensity of their lust for each other. Lan Zhan is only slightly more experienced than Wei Ying, but he doesn't lack creativity, perseverance or passion. He is so hungry for Wei Ying, so eager to consume his pleasured moans and claim every inch of him for himself. He's kinky, genuinely kinky, and with him Wei Ying discovers that he's just as kinky. There is bondage, there is roleplay, there is breathtakingly degrading dirty talk and Wei Ying's holes learn many new ways of being abused and cherished.

One night, Lan Zhan comes to the revelation that his restraint is easily destroyed when Wei Ying calls him 'gege' or 'daddy'. Then Wei Ying needs to muffle his embarrassing whines with Lan Zhan's pillow when inspiration strikes and he tells Lan Zhan for the first time that he wants the man to breed him, and Lan Zhan fucks him stupid. It's mortifying, how much they both enjoy that new aspect of their dynamic. Mortifying and irresistible. It sneaks into their thoughts whenever they're together in Lan Zhan's home after A-Yuan falls asleep. The usually don't have enough time for Lan Zhan to tie him up, or to prepare an elaborate scenario for them to play in, but Lan Zhan can pretend to fuck him full of his seed without that much preparation, and Wei Ying only needs to whisper the word 'daddy' into Lan Zhan's ear to get what he needs.

"Daddy, don't you want to give A-Yuan a baby brother?"

Wei Ying doesn't truly, literally want it. He just wants Lan Zhan to pretend that Wei Ying is good enough for it. That Lan Zhan would make him his in such an indelible way.

Time passes and A-Yuan grows. He becomes just a little bit more independent, he makes friends, and some days he doesn't need Wei Ying at all. Lan Zhan offers to pay him for a full day of work anyway. He offers to pay him more, because he's a good and intelligent man and he can see right through Wei Ying's lies, omissions and distractions. Wei Ying refuses. He lies about why he refuses, says it's because he doesn't really need it, when in truth it's because he feels like he'd be taking advantage of his boyfriend. Lan Zhan deserves better than a sugar baby, even a cheap one.

Lan Zhan tries to insist, probably because he notices how Wei Ying never shows up with new clothes, despite the state of disrepair of a lot of the clothes he wears to work. Or perhaps he finds it rightfully suspicious that Wei Ying never invites him to stay at his apartment.

Wei Ying tries to be good, but then he fucks up, as he always does.

He gets sick. Just a bit of a flu, maybe with a pinch of pneumonia. He doesn't want to go to the hospital to find out, but then he wakes up at two in the morning because he can hardly breathe. He takes the bus, because he can't afford an ambulance, and fights the dreadful temptation to call Lan Zhan. It takes the doctor fewer than five minutes to decide that Wei Ying is going to have to stay in for the night and dedicate the rest of his week to recuperating at home. His first instinct is to disobey, but then he imagines A-Yuan getting sick because of him and he relents. He loves A-Yuan (and Lan Zhan) so much, too much.

So Wei Ying does the right thing. He stays home and rests. But even then, he fucks up. He doesn't tell Lan Zhan, because Lan Zhan is smart and thoughtful and might ask him about the medical bills from his stay. He might even try to come over and take care of him, and that's a terrifying thought. When Lan Zhan calls, he lies. He says he's busy with some freelance programming work, the kind of work he hasn't gotten in ages. And so he spends the next few days thinking about the new big number looming over his head.

When his lungs clear and he can finally leave his apartment again, Wei Ying discovers the difference between anxiety and desperation. He was anxious about his past debts, but he's desperate about the hospital bills and the fact that he's lost several days of income. The abyss of debt is about to devour him whole and he's got a choice to make.

Wei Ying chooses to do something bad.

Lan Zhan thinks an hour may have passed. Maybe more. The night sky has lost much of its purple hue. Wei Ying is still riding his cock. His folds take him like they were made for it, even as the rest of his lover's body falters from the exertion. He's become graceless, uncoordinated, his dexterity reduced to almost nothing by his exhaustion. And yet, Wei Ying keeps riding him, even when his thighs tremble as he tries to raise himself one more time for him. His Wei Ying looks so shameless, so indecent, so wrecked, so eager, so beautiful like this. Lan Zhan can hardly resist the need to hold him, to kiss his rambling lips and his tears, to tell him that he loves him and prove it. But he won't.

"Wei Ying", he calls him, and he can see him shudder. In his grey eyes he sees a bit of fear and a lot of anticipation. Lan Zhan gives him what he obviously needs, and slaps his face once more. "Faster."

He's kept count of his slaps. Sixteen so far. Every time he feels like he wants to caress Wei Ying's reddened, tear-stained cheeks, he does it again.

Wei Ying tries to obey him. He arches his body and tries to roll off of Lan Zhan's lap, to distance his beautiful hole from the mess it's made between them. Lan Zhan's cock is wet with their fluids, just as hard as it was an hour ago, and it's taking a lot of mental effort for him not to add to the lustful scene with his own seed. Lan Zhan needs more. He doesn't know what, exactly, but he needs it all the same. He needs Wei Ying to give him something to soothe whatever nasty thing has been growing like a parasite inside him.

Wei Ying manages to thrust himself up and down his length a couple of times before he utterly comes crashing down on it again, spearing his increasingly sore cunt on him. His beautiful voice devolves into more of those mewls, moans and gasps, which are somehow even more beautiful. Everything about Wei Ying is beautiful even now, and Lan Zhan wants to say it, as he has been saying for months.

"Again", he grunts instead. Wei Ying doesn't respond with words or movements, and so he slaps him again, though this time he chooses a new target. Wei Ying's whole body jumps from its seat when Lan Zhan's hand collides with his dick. It's better, but not enough, so he does it again.

"Er-gege, please, no more!" Wei Ying begs, and his parted lips look too kissable when he does it. He must ruin those too, or else he won't be able to continue with this horrible farce. So he pushes three fingers into that filthy, pretty mouth, he stretches those lips like his manhood stretches his Wei Ying's cunt. Still, Wei Ying does not shut up. He mumbles through those digits, his pleads unintelligible but obvious nonetheless.

"You will take what I give you", Lan Zhan hears himself say, and hates how little his fondness for Wei Ying's voice shows in his tone. "My fingers, my cock, my seed. You were made for them. It's all you're good for."

Wei Ying nods and his lips try to form a fragile smile around his fingers. He yearns to see that smile unleashed again.

Lan Zhan sees Wei Ying come undone before him yet again, overwhelmed by so many clashing emotions and sensations, and he wants to show him tenderness, to let him know that he's being good, that Lan Zhan appreciates him. But Lan Zhan can't do it. Guilt bubbles and boils and overflows, smothering the need to care for his lover. It shouts over the sweet whispers of his heart.

Wei Ying betrayed him, but it's Lan Zhan who feels at fault.

Phishing is one of those endemic digital diseases that always rears its head just when you are starting to forget it's there.

This latest outbreak begins right at the end of a relatively calm week of online seminars about data protection. Just as he is about to leave his office and return home to his son and boyfriend, he receives the first call. The frantic business executive on the other end of the line is currently facing his two worst fears at once: losing money and being exposed as an aspiring adulterer. All because he was too lazy to even do a reverse image search. Millions in corporate and personal assets are at stake.

Blocking the hacker's access to the client's most sensitive information takes a lot of work and the clean up afterwards is exhausting. And no matter how hard he tries, some of the money stolen is gone for good. Lan Zhan arrives home late for the first time since he adopted Sizhui, and his heart breaks a bit (a lot) when Wei Ying tells him he's already asleep. He tried to stay up for him, of course, but now it's close to midnight and even a son as devoted as Sizhui couldn't stay awake that long. Lan Zhan almost goes to bed seething at the anonymous, untraceable villain that ruined his day, but a soft kiss from his Wei Ying melts some of that resentful energy away. If he wasn't so tired, he might even ask Wei Ying to stay the night, to make him forget all about phishing and hackers and stupid clients with his lust.

A single incident doesn't create a pattern. It certainly doesn't leave Lan Zhan with enough evidence to figure out who the hacker is. Their work was, at first glance, amateurish in experience perhaps, but with the marks of someone with formal education, intelligence and good instincts.

A pattern does begin to take shape in his mind when more of his clients get hit over the next few weeks. Increasingly elaborate, clearly tailor-made phishing scams, all of which hit their targets right where they're at their most vulnerable. The material losses, once relatively insignificant, balloon into a modest sum that speaks of the hacker's growing audacity. Lan Zhan is good at his job (arguably the best, if his peers' words are to be believed), but not good enough to stop this person. He keeps coming home late, loses several weekends that he would rather spend with his Sizhui and his Wei Ying, and almost misses Sizhui's birthday party. His clients don't quite point their fingers at him, because who would dare to call Lan Qiren's nephew 'incompetent'? They do, however, make unsubtle inquiries about outsourcing their cybersecurity to companies with more manpower than him. Lan Zhan feels more worn down than he has since he was a teenager, and sometimes even Wei Ying's laugh is not enough to lighten his mood.

And yet, as is the case with all evildoers, the hacker inevitably starts to slip up. Errors born from their growing arrogance start to evaporate their anonymity. This foe isn't doing a good enough job of covering their tracks. Lan Zhan doesn't have a name or an IP address yet, but he's getting close.

The apartment is dark. Even the city outside cannot remain as bright at such a late hour. But on the couch, Wei Ying is still riding Lan Zhan's wonderful, monstrous cock. His bound hands idly squeeze a spot right under his navel, where both of them can almost see the shape of Lan Zhan inside him. It might just be their imagination, born from months of ardent talk of Lan Zhan rearranging his lover's insides, reshaping them to be just for him. Sometimes, though, they preferred to imagine that Wei Ying's body had always been shaped for him.

Now, Lan Zhan is waiting. He doesn't entirely know what for. Maybe he's waiting for Wei Ying to say a single word, a word that will signal that they've both reached their limit and to make all of this stop.

Lan Zhan listens to Wei Ying and Sizhui laughing in his living room. It's a sound that, for some time now, has filled his head with happy scenes of a possible life shared between the three of them. Now, though, that fantasy is being disintegrated by the pixels on his screen.

Wei Ying was good, but not good enough. On his screen, he does not see Wei Ying's comely face smiling at him, but he does see his personal e-mail address and an IP address that matches the neighbourhood Wei Ying lives in. He's left himself exposed and, by extension, he's left Lan Zhan and Sizhui exposed.

Lan Zhan traces back his steps and remembers Wei Ying being more curious about his work than usual. He remembers Wei Ying looking less stressed in their private moments. He remembers Wei Ying buying Sizhui toys for his birthday. And Lan Zhan starts to crumble.

He asks himself a lot of questions, each more painful than the last. He asks himself if this was all cursed from the start. After all, what was he thinking? Falling for a younger man, his son's own babysitter, and taking advantage of someone who desperately needed the money? Why hadn't he helped Wei Ying more? Couldn't he have been a better employer? A better boyfriend?

"Yellow", Wei Ying says at long last. It's only audible because the world around them is too quiet, but Lan Zhan hears it all the same. And when he does, he acts at once. His arms lift Wei Ying off his cock with relative ease and gently press him into the mounds of his chest. Wei Ying is small, slender, precious, and Lan Zhan is fond of thinking that he stays as fit as he does so he can hold him and carry him and protect him.

They both stay silent for several minutes, hearing each other breathe, feeling each other with feather-light touches. Wei Ying's cheeks are wet still with fresh tears that fall on Lan Zhan's pecs. He's sobbing softly, and his legs barely move behind him. Lan Zhan kisses the top of his head, taking in the scent of his shampoo in his silky black hair. His hands rub circles on Wei Ying's back, long fingers stretching to hold as much as they can.

Time passes and Lan Zhan wants to speak, but he chokes on his own words and realizes that there's a lump in his throat, thick and viscous. And although he does not feel the few stray tears that fall from his eyes, he can taste them on his lips.

Luckily, Wei Ying speaks for them both. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm not good. I'm sorry I fucked everything up. I always fuck everything up. Now you know why most of my family won't talk to me, why I can't get a real job and keep it, why I've never had a lover before..."

Lan Zhan isn't angry with Wei Ying. He stopped being angry not too long after he found out. What he feels now is not resentment anymore, but a mixture of many kinds of sadness. Sadness for being betrayed, sadness for Wei Ying feeling like this was his only way out, sadness for Wei Ying still thinking that he doesn't deserve Lan Zhan's love. In all the months that they've been together, Lan Zhan has never shared a day with Wei Ying in which the younger one didn't self-deprecate in some way, didn't try to minimize and brush off his own struggles because he always thought other people had it worse and deserved more than him. Every time it happened, Lan Zhan felt like he was failing him, that he wasn't doing enough to show him how much he loved him.

"Do you really love me, Wei Ying?" Lan Zhan hears himself say.

Wei Ying presses his face closer to Lan Zhan's heart and his lips kiss the space above which Lan Zhan can feel it beating. "Yes, I love you, I love you..."

He's trying to get on his knees again, but Lan Zhan won't let him. He holds Wei Ying down and keeps caressing him. Sobs, tears, kisses, more muttered words of love follow. Lan Zhan's lips make an even bigger mess of the tears on Wei Ying's pretty face. Wei Ying's lips part for him as he presses his own on that little mole beside them, and Lan Zhan accepts the invitation with no reservations.

He seals their lips together, doesn't let a single sad sound leave his Wei Ying.

The other doesn't relax in his arms so much as he collapses on him, but there is relief in his voice when he talks again.

"Daddy, gege..."

"How do you feel?"

"Like shit."




Grey eyes stare up at him.


"I don't want to hear Wei Ying say 'sorry' again for the rest of the night", Lan Zhan says as he pulls him in for another kiss. "You've apologized more than enough."

"Then what does daddy want Wei Ying to say?"

"Mn", Lan Zhan nuzzles into his swan-like neck, teeth teasing the soft skin, pressing into the bruises already decorating it. "I want Wei Ying to say what he wants."

Wei Ying giggles, ticklish even now from Lan Zhan's hot breath against his neck, but he manages to answer anyway.

"I want daddy to love me and keep me and breed me... in no specific order."

Lan Zhan smiles and kisses a couple of bruises. One of his hands is already reaching for Wei Ying's crotch.

"Anything else?"

Wei Ying nods.

"I want daddy to do all the moving from now on. Let your Wei Ying just lie down and take gege's cock like a good boyfriend."

"Mn", Lan Zhan sees the mischief return like a spark in his boyfriend's eyes. "And?"

"And please be rough with me, gege."

Wei Ying's couch was already an old and downtrodden when he first bought it, long before Lan Zhan resolved to pound Wei Ying face-first into it. Still, even Wei Ying could not have predicted that it would literally break after a few minutes of Lan Zhan brutalizing his hole with needlessly (but marvelously) mighty thrusts of his hips.

Half an hour later, the two are still making love in the same position on the remains of the annihilated piece of furniture. Wei Ying is not entirely passive, doing what he can to keep his ass raised and his back arched for his Lan Zhan. Most of all, however, he's enthusiastically verbal again. A million ideas for dirty talk fly through his brain and he does not filter any of them out.

Lan Zhan gets the great pleasure and responsibility of listening while making sure that his boyfriend gets what he's begging for, no matter how physically implausible it may seem at first. His hands are large enough to get a good grip on almost all of Wei Ying's tiny waist, and all Lan Zhan needs to do is hold him like that as his hips piston in and out of Wei Ying's unfairly tight channel, still so wet and warm and inviting for his length. His head mercilessly beats into the depths of Wei Ying's cunt again and again, and it feels like they were made to fit together like this.

Wei Ying's arched back is covered in bites, bruises and sweat. His waist-long black hair sticks to the skin and Lan Zhan is very close to grabbing and pulling on it. He knows that Wei Ying is also thinking it, somehow, and he's just waiting for the smaller man to ask for it, like he's asked for everything that's happened since they started again.

Turns out, Lan Zhan doesn't have to wait long.

"Gege, pull my hair! I want a kiss!" gasps Wei Ying, and Lan Zhan obeys immediately. With thinly veiled care, he gathers that beautiful mane in one hand (and it is, indeed, as beautiful as every other thing about Wei Ying is) and pulls. He pulls without interrupting his thrusts, because he knows Wei Ying wants more of those too. His coarse dark pubic hairs rub against Wei Ying's taint, and his balls slap against Wei Ying's dick, while he effortlessly lifts that pretty face towards him and guides those swollen, parted lips into a filthy, velvety kiss. Their tongues meet and Lan Zhan sucks on everything his lips can hold. He savours every corner he can reach of Wei Ying's small mouth and swallows every arousing noise that escapes it. They are all his, much like every groan, every grunt and every murmur of his belong to Wei Ying.

"Lan Zhan, daddy, I'm so close..." Wei Ying says as they part, and at first Lan Zhan doesn't retort except by spitting in his mouth and shoving his face into the cushions. He plunges into Wei Ying as hard and fast as he can, which is almost more than what Wei Ying can take. Wei Ying's entire body rocks back and forth on the rough fabric beneath, rubbing his pierced nipples raw, and he moans.

Then Lan Zhan speaks again.

"I'm close too."

And if he wasn't utterly consumed by the frenzied rhythm of their movements, Wei Ying would have to stop to let those words wash over him, to let the expectation build up.

"Does Wei Ying still want my cum?" Asks Lan Zhan, his breath hot on the back of Wei Ying's neck. He's leaned down, pressing his broad chest against Wei Ying's back, trapping him.

"Yes, I want gege's cum."

One particularly deep thrust, a brief pause so they can both rock into each other and bask in the pleasure of Lan Zhan's large girth pushing through his lips, stretching his inner walls.

"Wei Ying knows I'm not wearing a condom."

He kisses the back of Wei Ying's neck and Wei Ying mewls, nodding into the cushion. "I know, gege."

"And Wei Ying knows what that means?"

Wei Ying shudders when he answers, like saying it elicits its own kind of physical pleasure. "Yes, gege."

"This is not a game. Wei Ying could get pregnant."

It won't happen. Not really. That's not the point.

"Please, daddy..."

"If I breed Wei Ying", Lan Zhan whispers, intimate, sincere. There's a truth under this game they're playing now. "I'll have to take care of him. I'll ask Wei Ying to move in with me, to be my husband and help me raise our children."

Neither of them is stupid, except when it comes to understanding themselves. They understand each other all too well. They can choose what's true about those words, and leave the rest in the realm of 'the heat of the moment'. Wei Ying can let himself be cared for, to have someone stand by him and help him with his problems. Lan Zhan can let himself say what he wants, who we wants, and let the world see that he's happy.

"Lan Zhan", Wei Ying breathes, twisting his face so he can get a small glimpse of the older man. "Breed your Wei Ying and take him home with you."

Lan Zhan's thrusting again. Not as rough, nor as fast, but just as deep. Need folds into love, and they both feel made whole again when, at last, their bodies stutter together, their limbs strain, Wei Ying's back is pressed flush against Lan Zhan's chest, and Wei Ying feels the subtle warmth of being filled, his contracting walls milking every drop of his lover's load.

Lan Zhan doesn't leave him, nor does he deny him aftercare. He stays and holds him and kisses him and speaks to him.

"You were so good. You are so good, Wei Ying. My Wei Ying, my baby, my love."

And Wei Ying feels good.