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“So that’s your answer?” Duan Ling asks. He thinks back on how he’d once curled up against Lang Junxia’s chest, how his warmth had enveloped him and how safe he had felt, back then, for the first time in his life. How he’d been cared for, how they’d share a bed and how Lang Junxia would hold him every night when he was plagued by nightmares, by the fear of Lang Junxia leaving him.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe what you want,” Lang Junxia says, but doesn’t look at him. He can’t, because if he does, he won’t be able to keep up the uncaring act. Because if he does, Duan Ling will see it in his eyes, how much he means to him. This is the only way. “I’ve answered your question.”
Duan Ling takes a seat in front of Lang Junxia. “You gave me the answer I expected to hear,” he looks at him, but Lang Junxia refuses to meet his eyes. “But it’s not one from the heart.”
Lang Junxia pays careful attention to not show anything amiss on his face, his expression lax, like he’s not even bothering to listen to what Duan Ling has to say.
“You lie to everyone, including yourself,” Duan Ling speaks softly, “but you can’t lie to me.” Because I don’t believe you.
“What you gave me back then,” he leans closer to Lang Junxia, “it was real.”
All the affection Lang Junxia had given him, all the warmth, the love. Duan Ling doesn’t believe it was fake for even a second. Lang Junxia can try insisting on it as much as he likes, but Duan Ling will never believe him.
Duan Ling moves closer to Lang Junxia from the spot in front of him. One of his hands brushes Lang Junxia’s thigh, which makes him flinch, prompting him to sharply raise his head. With their faces much closer now, Lang Junxia tries his hardest to remain expressionless.
The main reason why Lang Junxia can’t look at Duan Ling is because he knows that once he does, he won’t be able to stop. Every time he’s with Duan Ling, he can’t keep his eyes off of him. He’d been caught staring multiple times, not only by Duan Ling, but also Wu Du, who very kindly threatened to cut his head off.
The look in his eyes, Duan Ling notes, is just as, if not more intense than every other time he had caught him looking.
Before, Duan Ling had thought this intensity in his eyes meant that Lang Junxia wanted to kill him. Now, though, he can tell there’s a different meaning behind it.
Duan Ling smiles softly at him, and Lang Junxia feels his chest burn.
Duan Ling crawls into his lap, testing how much he’s allowed to take. Lang Junxia tenses up under him, still as a statue.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Lang Junxia says, his voice wavering slightly.
“Lang Junxia,” he whispers, so close to the man now that he’s almost saying it into his mouth, “I want you, I want this.”
Lang Junxia startles and goes to push him off, forgetting his hands are still tied behind his back.
“I could untie you,” Duan Ling says gently, “and I will, if you’re going to be honest with me.”
Lang Junxia’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, his face only showing a small sign of his inner turmoil in the form of his furrowed eyebrows. He really, really shouldn’t be allowing this to happen. This is already far beyond what is appropriate and expected of him, and he already feels himself react to the pretty boy in his lap. The boy you raised, his brain supplies.
“Lang Junxia,” Duan Ling repeats, but then—
“A-Die.”
Lang Junxia feels the world cave under him.
“I’ve noticed the way you look at me,” Duan Ling presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, coaxing, then another one, this one directly on his lips.
“Duan Ling,” Lang Junxia says his name, and Duan Ling can hear the warning in it.
Duan Ling merely smiles. Then once again, he softly says, “A-Die.”
Lang Junxia breathes deeply and attempts to control himself. “Untie me.”
“Are you going to take me?” Duan Ling asks, but he’s already reaching over and cutting the rope with the knife he keeps in his sleeve.
Lang Junxia’s hands are on him the moment the bindings fall away. One hand, in Lang Junxia’s attempt to ground himself, is gripping Duan Ling’s waist so tightly that Duan Ling is sure he’ll have bruises of his fingers on his skin for days after. The other hand cradles his face, thumb brushing against his cheek in a gesture so gentle that Duan Ling feels a slight ache in his chest.
“A-Die,” Duan Ling whispers.
And Lang Junxia is just a man. A sick, sick man, because he guides Duan Ling to his mouth and connects their lips in a searing kiss.
Duan Ling softly moans into his mouth, finally getting what he wanted, his eyes fluttering shut.
Lang Junxia kisses him slowly, swallowing all the pretty noises Duan Ling makes. He nudges Duan Ling closer to himself with his knees, the movement settling Duan Ling directly over his already hard cock. He’s rewarded with a whimper and with Duan Ling grinding his ass against him. Lang Junxia hums in approval, the sound traveling through Duan Ling and making him shake in his arms.
He pulls away, and Duan Ling looks at him with half-lidded eyes, his lips shiny with spit.
He caresses his cheek, and Duan Ling leans into it, before kissing him again. “My baby,” Lang Junxia breathes into his mouth and Duan Ling almost sobs, nodding his head, the movement nearly making their teeth clack.
Lang Junxia angles Duan Ling’s hips down and drags their cocks together, their clothes doing nothing to hide how hard they are. They both moan at the friction, the sound muffled by their kiss.
“A-Die,” Duan Ling pulls away and Lang Junxia takes this opportunity to mouth sloppily at his neck, the action making Duan Ling tremble. “I want you to fuck me.”
Lang Junxia laughs breathlessly, “I can’t fuck you here, baby.”
“Why not?” He frowns, and Lang Junxia finds him so cute he can’t help but kiss him.
“Look at where we are right now,” another kiss, “and besides, those three might come back anytime.”
At this, Duan Ling stiffens in his arms.
Just then, a thought occurs to him, and his mouth quirks up in a smirk. “Oh? Don’t tell me, you want them to see?”
“What the hell are you saying?!” Duan Ling immediately goes to deny, but he can’t help the heat that travels through him at the thought of that.
Lang Junxia kisses him again, effectively stopping him from talking any louder, lest he alerts those three.
“I won’t fuck you,” Duan Ling opens his mouth to speak but Lang Junxia cuts him off. “Next time. But we can get off like this, hm?”
He rolls his hips up and pulls Duan Ling down simultaneously. Duan Ling’s mouth drops open and his eyes squeeze shut. He eagerly nods his head, the promise of next time making his skin burn.
Lang Junxia guides him by the waist so their cocks glide together with every drag of their hips. Duan Ling’s hands tangle themselves in Lang Junxia’s hair, their foreheads pressed together, breathing into each other’s mouths.
Duan Ling connects their mouths in a kiss and moans when Lang Junxia sucks on his tongue. A hand comes up to hold him in place as Lang Junxia deepens the kiss.
Lang Junxia said he wouldn’t fuck him, but he makes up for it with the way he bullies his mouth like he’s fucking him with his tongue. Duan Ling keens, a line of drool dripping through the corner of his mouth.
Lang Junxia pulls away for only a second to wipe it away, a quiet messy boy leaves his mouth before he goes back for more and Duan Ling has to squeeze his eyes shut so tight he starts seeing stars.
“A-Die,” Duan Ling sobs. “A-Die, Diedie, I’m—“
“I know, baby,” Lang Junxia coos at him. “You can come whenever you want.”
Duan Ling grinds down once, twice, and then he’s coming messily into his robes, a few stray tears leaving his eyes that Lang Junxia wipes away with his thumb.
Lang Junxia curses at the sight, a breathless fuck before he, too, takes what he needs and comes with a groan that he muffles into Duan Ling’s neck.
Duan Ling is slightly dazed from the intensity of it when Lang Junxia pulls him into his arms. He caresses his cheek and presses a soft kiss to the other, and Duan Ling leans into his touch, sated.
He doesn’t enjoy it for long enough when he realizes that both he and Lang Junxia have a small wet patch at the front of their robes. “Ah, fuck,” he mumbles. Really didn’t think that through.
Lang Junxia looks down and lets out a snort which immediately earns him a punch to the shoulder.
“So,” Lang Junxia’s mouth quirks up. “A-Die, huh?”
Another punch to his shoulder, followed by a grumbled: “Don’t even try it. You practically jumped me immediately after.” And it got me what I wanted goes unsaid.