Zhao Yunlan’s lips are moving against Shen Wei’s, scorching with every press, and Shen Wei’s traitorous heart is choking him.
The broom he’d been sweeping with is haphazardly on the floor. He’d been amusedly happy to clean for Zhao Yunlan (oh he’d do almost anything for him, even this, especially this) but Yunlan crashed into him and it turns out he wanted a different kind of reward after all.
Zhao Yunlan’s mattress is firm against his back but it’s much softer than the last time they did this, so much softer than the leaf-filled mattress on hard ground.
It’d been so long, so so long. He’d given up hope ages ago, and even when he saw Kunlun again, he’d been so sure that he’d never feel his touch. Not only did Zhao Yunlan not know him, not see him for who he really was, but he suspected him. Frowned at him. Maybe even… disliked him.
The distrustful, narrowed eyes had burned in a different, more devastating kind of way.
Now he doesn’t know why he didn’t catalogue every single touch ten thousand years ago, every point of pressure that Kunlun graced him with.
He’d been naive. He’d thought that Kunlun was his. He’d thought he was special for ten thousand years only to find out—
The sensations are overwhelming now, dizzying. Zhao Yunlan’s hand at the back of his head, fingers tightening around his hair, teeth greedily nipping at Shen Wei’s lips with an urgency that Kunlun had never had.
Another reminder that this is not like the last time. If Zhao Yunlan truly knew Shen Wei like Kunlun had, he’d know there is no rush. He’d know he can have anything and everything of Shen Wei, as much as he wanted.
And Shen Wei doesn’t have the same foolish ignorance that this is forever. It’s probably just for now. Zhao Yunlan isn’t shy about his flirting and his experience, and if all he wants is Shen Wei’s body for a night, for a reward, Wei will still happily give it to him.
He can catalogue. He can remember.
His glasses are on the nightstand, tugged off of his face by Yunlan and discarded absent-mindedly. (Kunlun had pulled off his mask and set it down so, so gently.)
Zhao Yunlan calls him Hei Lao-ge between kisses and nips and sucks, his hand sliding greedily between Shen Wei’s legs. (Kunlun called him Xiao Wei.)
Zhao Yunlan applies his frustration, his excitement, his relief at discovering Shen Wei's secret with every push, every tug, every bite. He groans loudly as Shen Wei reciprocates his touch, flipping the button of Zhao Yunlan’s jeans deftly open and slipping his hand to grasp him beneath his boxers. (Kunlun had been oh so patient, letting Shen Wei take what he wanted, at his own speed.)
Oh but Zhao Yunlan is still magnificent, still special, and Shen Wei still loves loves loves.
This is good enough. This has to be good enough. Because if he thinks it’s forever and he loses Zhao Yunlan again, he doesn’t think he’ll survive it a second time.
There are vests and garters, buttons and belts, all in the way. Clumsily disposed of, practically ripped away, and Zhao Yunlan laughs. The sound fills Shen Wei to the brim.
(Kunlun had unwrapped him slowly, gently, like he was delicate, like he was something precious and no one had ever treated him that way. He’d been feared, and adored, and overlooked, decades of avoidance and averted eyes and that was okay, it was fine, as long as he was fulfilling a purpose and serving his people, but then Kunlun—)
“So eager, Hei Lao-ge,” Zhao Yunlan says with a delighted chuckle and oh, Shen Wei has been trying to bury himself into him, maybe that way Zhao Yunlan will stay, take him with him, won't forget him this time.
Zhao Yunlan’s attention is paralyzing on any given day and now it’s overload, it burns, Shen Wei wants to hide from it and never, ever leave it again. It would have been good enough to be just a suspect, just an acquaintance, as long as Yunlan was in his life so this is so much more than he could have asked for.
They thrust and groan deliriously at each other, foreheads on shoulders, mouths on skin, until Zhao Yunlan’s fingers slowly lower to Shen Wei’s entrance. He straightens up, his eyes attentively on Shen Wei, and Shen Wei hears himself say, “ Please.”
Zhao Yunlan grabs his lube from the nightstand and pushes Shen Wei’s knees up. He starts with one finger, and then two, impatient and quick and still watching Shen Wei’s reactions closely. He slips in a third, punching a small cry out of Shen Wei, and Shen Wei feels his face flare with even more heat.
“Is this okay?” Zhao Yunlan’s voice is low and rough and oh, Shen Wei is flooded the familiarity of that, of is this okay and so beautiful and let me take care of you. He starts to drown in it and he forgets to respond, until Zhao Yunlan nearly stops in concern.
“Yes,” Shen Wei says urgently, and hopefully his voice didn’t break like he thought it did. “Yes, this is—more than okay.”
After a few more thrusts Zhao Yunlan lines himself up and looks at Shen Wei for permission, and of course Shen Wei swallows, and nods. Zhao Yunlan pushes himself in carefully, surely, but it’s still sooner than was probably necessary—he assumes Shen Wei has done this before. With men who are not Zhao Yunlan. Because Zhao Yunlan doesn’t know him yet and Shen Wei… Shen Wei can’t say no.
The stretch is tight but it burns so good, filling Shen Wei up and making him feel like he can’t hold himself inside.
(Kunlun had insisted that Shen Wei be on his front, for his first time, because it was supposed to be easier. Gentler.
“But I want to see you,” Shen Wei frowned, confused.
“Trust me,” Kunlun had said.
And Shen Wei trusted. And Kunlun was everything, so much and not enough as he worked him open slowly and pressed into him carefully and had Shen Wei shaking in sensation.
“Can I see you now?” Shen Wei had panted, impatient, needing more more more.
“Just look,” Kunlun said, from over Shen Wei’s left shoulder. “Look at me, Xiao Wei.”
Shen Wei twisted and he was right there stretching over Wei’s shoulder, and he captured him in a long, tender kiss—)
Shen Wei opens his eyes and Zhao Yunlan is peering down at him, dark and lustful, but simmering with a fondness that borderlines on something more, something Wei is probably imagining (but oh what if what if what if he isn’t?).
Zhao Yunlan sees him looking and lowers himself without stopping his frantic pace for a hasty, wet kiss that’s all heat and teeth and tongue and Shen Wei has no more room for thoughts of Kunlun.
Zhao Yunlan comes with Shen Wei’s name on his lips like a mantra—Shen Wei Shen Wei ah Shen Wei—his real name, the one he gave him and it overwhelms like wildfire, Shen Wei can’t see or hear or think as he follows Zhao Yunlan untouched.
Yunlan collapses, half on Shen Wei, and something wells so hard and fast inside that it hurts. It’s been ten thousand years and Kunlun—Zhao Yunlan—still feels the same and he never expected… he didn’t think… this was supposed to be what he wanted so why does this make him feel so scraped up inside?
He waits a couple minutes, his hand lightly on Zhao Yunlan’s sweat-slick back before whispering something about needing to clean up, and wriggles out from under Yunlan’s weight.
The walk to the bathroom is chilly. He hears Yunlan flop over onto his back behind him and shuts out further sounds with the bathroom door. He leans against it, rubbing the stinging from his eyes, trying to tuck his heart back where it should be.
He’s shivering a little when he emerges, feeling not nearly as clean as he would have liked, but he thought maybe showering right now was rude. And cowardly.
Zhao Yunlan gives him a lazy smile beneath heavy lids, and Shen Wei feels caught, somehow.
He eyes his clothes, entwined with Yunlan’s in a way that twists everything inside even further. He eyes the broom, the sound it made when it fell still echoing in his brain.
He has no idea what happens now, what’s expected of him. Should he finish cleaning before he gives Zhao Yunlan his space back? He did say he’d do it. Or was… what they just did… really all that Yunlan wanted?
“Hei Pao Shi isn’t thinking about leaving when he hasn’t finished cleaning, is he?”
Shen Wei freezes with a flash of guilt, just for a moment, until he sees the gleam in Zhao Yunlan’s eye and the grin on his face and his arm extend, held out for Shen Wei to take.
Shen Wei goes to him and takes his hand, hesitantly, and Zhao Yunlan tugs him so that he falls back into bed. Shen Wei huffs a surprised laugh as Yunlan rearranges them, pulls Shen Wei into his arms, pulls the covers over them both.
Zhao Yunlan doesn’t say anything more, and Shen Wei soaks in his heat, his deepening breaths. He’s relieved and grateful and warm and he’s cataloguing, he’s focusing on every point of contact and how it feels so that if this is the only time, the last time, it’ll live over and over again.
He grows sleepy and Kunlun holds him so, so tight and somehow he thinks maybe they’re about to meet again after all.