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There was an order to these kinds of things. An order that Wei Ying was intimately familiar with.
Honestly, he wasn’t sure Lan Zhan could do anything without some kind of order. It would probably make him stop functioning, and that was the last thing Wei Ying wanted.
Usually when they’d retired to the Jingshi at night, Lan Zhan would take his time undressing Wei Ying, stripping him layer by layer. He’d kiss him as he went, lips brushing over every bit of new skin he revealed like it was precious.
Wei Ying always loved those moments, but he wasn’t a very patient man. He usually interrupted before Lan Zhan was finished by tugging him close and pressing their lips together.
From there, their lips would slide together, hot and heavy, as they rid each other of their remaining clothes.
Lan Zhan was always quick to slip his tongue between his husband’s lips. Sometimes he would run it over every crevasse of Wei Ying’s mouth, dragging it over the roof of his mouth and the underside of his tongue. This never failed to make Wei Ying whine into the heat between them, desperate for more. Sometimes, when Lan Zhan was feeling especially impatient, he would fuck his tongue in and out of Wei Ying’s mouth, hinting as to what would come next.
Eventually, clothes trailing along the floor, they would make it to their bed, and Lan Zhan would lay Wei Ying down with all the tenderness he had in him.
Sometimes he would stand there, looking over Wei Ying, taking in his flushed features and lips kissed pink. Other times he wouldn’t even break their kiss, unable to tear himself from their embrace.
Either way, Wei Ying would spread his legs wide, stripped and open, waiting, writhing for his husband’s touch. He’d tease his hands down his chest as Lan Zhan watched with hungry eyes, trailing them down through the coarse hair below his bellybutton, down to where he was aching and hard.
Sometimes he would take himself in hand and see how long it took Lan Zhan to interrupt him. Sometimes he would bypass his leaking cock completely and dance his fingers over his entrance. Other times, his hands wouldn’t even get halfway down his chest before Lan Zhan replaced them with his own.
It always ended with Wei Ying coming in his husbands mouth, writing on his fingers, pushed over the edge by the rough thrust of his cock.
Tonight, though, Lan Zhan had broken the routine.
He’d followed it up until they were laying on their bed, rutting up against each other, Lan Zhan nipping along Wei Ying’s throat and Wie Ying bucking up into Lan Zhan’s stomach, desperate to be touched.
But then Lan Zhan has paused.
He pulled his lips from Wei Ying’s neck and made sure his grip was secure before flipping them over.
I can roll with this, Wei Hing thought, no stranger to riding his husband’s cock. He loved being able to control the pace, the angle, how deep Lan Zhan was pressed inside of him. Yeah, he didn’t mind one bit.
Then, Lan Zhan had pushed Wei Ying back until he had to sit back on his knees and spread his own legs wide.
Wei Ying had stared at him dumb, not quite understanding what was happening.
Lan Zhan looked up at him, ears burning red from embarrassment, not quite meeting his eye. He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t seem to find the words to say, so he close it back again.
Wei Ying didn’t get the picture until Lan Zhan started trailing his hands down his own chest. They were trembling as they made their way over his stomach and down, brushing over that trail of dark hair. He stroked his cock once, twice, before he trailed his hands farther down.
The pieces clicked when Lan Zhan spread his legs wide and pressed his fingers against his own entrance.
Wei Ying looked up to meet Lan Zhan’s nervous, questioning look with a grin.
“Now, what could you want tonight, dear husband?”
Lan Zhan’s eyes widened when he caught on to his game.
“Wei Ying,” he gasped out.
He hadn’t pulled his fingers away, but he didn’t press in since he didn’t have anything to slick them with.
Wei Ying’s grin only grew wider.
“You’re going to have to tell me, so that i can make sure I’m doing what you want.”
Lan Zhan sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Wei Ying, please.”
Wei Ying let his hands drop to Lan Zhan’s waist, and he dug his fingers in lightly.
“Please, what?” He asked.
He wanted to hear Lan Zhan beg for it. He wanted to hear those words fall from those pretty lips.
“Please,” his voice stuttered in his chest when Wei Ying moved his hands closer to where he wanted them. “Want you.”
Wei Ying leaned over him to press his lips to Lan Zhan’s collarbone, a series of kisses followed by little kitten licks and the scrape of teeth.
“Closer,” he whispered. “You want me to what?”
“Ah,” Lan Zhan gasped when one of Wei Ying’s hands dropped lower to knock his own out of the way to brush against his entrance. “Fuck me, please, Wei Ying. Need you inside me, need you—“
He cut off with a choked sound when Wei Ying pushed the tip of his finger against that whirl of muscle.
“There we are,” he said as he pressed a kiss to the side of Lan Zhan’s neck before pulling away.
Lan Zhan ley out a small disappointed whine when Wei Ying pulled his hand back, and then clenched his mouth closed, like he hadn’t meant to let it escape.
“Where did you put the oil, love,” Wei Ying asked, getting up from the bed.
When Lan Zhan pointed to where he kept it, Wei Ying could see how much his hand was shaking.
He settled back down, bottle in hand, cock harder than it had ever been in his life, and took one of Lan Zhan’s hands in his own. It was still trembling.
“Lan Zhan, look at me,” he said.
Lan Zhan turned to meet his eyes.
“I’m going to take such good care of you. Don’t be afraid.”
Lan Zhan nodded. “Trust Wei Ying.”
That made Wei Ying’s chest warm as he sat on his knees between Lan Zhan’s spread thighs and poured the oil over his fingers. He rubbed them against his other hand for a second to warm the oil.
“Relax,” he said as he pressed his pointer finger up against that ring of muscle.
Lan Zhan tensed when it first made contact, but he relaxed as Wei Ying stroked his finger over his entrance, not quite pressing in.
When he finally relaxed enough for Wei Ying finally ease his finger in, Lan Zhan let out a low moan at the sensation.
Wei Ying giggled. “Is this the first time you’ve had something here?” He asked.
When Lan Zhan shook his head, Wei Ying paused, surprised.
“Myself, I‘ve done this before.”
Wei Ying felt his cock give a twitch at the mental image of Lan Zhan working himself open on his own fingers. He would make Lan Zhan do it one of these days and let him watch.
Wei Ying moved his finger, pressing it farther in, rubbing against the velvety texture of his walls, crooking it ever so often to get him used to the feeling.
Lan Zhan squirmed and writhed on the bed under his ministrations. He let out punched out little noises every time his finger pushed a little deeper in. His hands were no longer trembling and were instead grasping onto the sheets underneath him in a tight grip.
Wei Ying worked him open with his finger until it felt like he was loose enough for him to add more.
“I’m going to put another one in, now,” he said.
Lan Zhan nodded and then let out a whine when he felt a second finger press up against the first.
Wei Ying went a little slower, but not as slow as he had originally planned, now that he knew Lan Zhan had done this before.
He took his time pressing his fingers in, crooking them and scissoring them in turn to stretch Lan Zhan. He was avoiding that little bundle of nerves, waiting until he could get a third finger in to drive him crazy.
Wei Ying scissored his fingers again and Lan Zhan gasped.
“Another, please, Wei Ying.” His voice was wrecked, and it made Wei Ying’s heart race to hear him like this.
Who was he to deny his husband anything.
He worked in a third finger, making sure to go slow enough to let Lan Zhan adjust.
Once he’d loosened him up enough to take it without that little furrow appearing between his eyebrows, Wei Ying pulled his fingers back almost all the way before pressing them hard back in, making sure to hit that spot that would make Lan Zhan see stars.
“Ah!” Lan Zhan let out a shout at that, and his back arched with the pleasure of it all. “Again, please, again!”
He sounded desperate, just how Wei Ying liked him, so he fucked his fingers into Lan Zhan, moving them until he was crying out on every breath.
Lan Zhan was more vocal this way than when he was fucking Wei Ying, and it was making him want to press deep inside of him and wring out any noise he could.
He kept up the rhythm of his fingers until Lan Zhan was bucking his hips against them, fucking himself back until he was the one doing most of the movement.
“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, voice deep with arousal. “Do you want to come like this,” he thrust his fingers right up against his prostate just to hear him keen. “Or do you want to come with my cock inside of you?” He pressed his erection up against the back of Lan Zhan’s thigh, and the pressure made him want to rut up against him until he came.
Lan Zhan let out a helpless noise.
“You, please, I want you inside me.”
Wei Ying wiggled his fingers where there were still pressed against Lan Zhan’s prostate.
“But I’m already inside you,” he teased.
Lan Zhan bucked his hips again at the feeling and gasped out, “No please, want to come with your cock inside.”
Wei Ying pulled his fingers out with no warning, leaving Lan Zhan open and panting.
He used the oil to slick his cock, pausing a moment to stroke himself a time or two, giving attention to his neglected erection.
Lan Zhan nudged him with his leg after a moment, and Wei Ying looked up to meet his eye.
“Bossy even now,” he said with a grin.
Lan Zhan looked lovely like this. He was flushed all down his chest, panting, dick lying hard and leaking against his own stomach. His entrance was red and slick from the oil, and Wei Ying couldn’t stop himself from reaching forward and spreading him open with both his thumbs.
“I never thought I’d see you like this, stretched open and begging for my cock,” he said. “You better be careful or I might get addicted.”
Lan Zhan reached down to wrap a hand around Wei Ying’s cock, stroking a hand over him once very slowly.
“Please, Wei Ying, fuck me.”
Wei Ying batted Lan Zhan’s hand away and placed a hand on either of his husband’s knees to make him spread his legs even farther. He could look at that sight forever, but he had a job to do, so he pressed the tip of his head against Lan Zhan’s entrance.
He paused there until Lan Zhan was trembling for it, waiting until he opened his bleary, fucked-out eyes to look up at him, and then he pushed in slowly, pressing in inch by inch. He didn’t want to hurt Lan Zhan even as everything in him was begging him to just thrust all the way at once.
He loved it when Lan Zhan was rough with him, when he could feel the stretch of every inch of his husband’s length pressing into him. The burn mixed with the pleasure in a way that had him seeing stars.
He wanted to be gentle with Lan Zhan, though. He wanted his first time getting fucked to be all pleasure and no pain.
So he made sure to take it slow until he was seated all the way inside.
Once he was pressed all the way in, he paused again and waited until Lan Zhan had adjusted, waiting until he started to rock his hips almost subconsciously against the pressure inside of him.
“Ready?” He asked.
Lan Zhan nodded, his dark hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead.
“Fuck me,” he whined. “I’m ready, fuck me, please.”
Wei Ying pulled back until just the head was pressed inside, and then he slammed back in, fucking as deep as he could.
The breath was pushed out of Lan Zhan on every thrust, and he seemed unable to control the noises that were falling from his lips.
The noises spurred him on as Lan Zhan wrapped his strong thighs around Wei Wuxian’s waist and moved against his thrusts, urging him deeper, faster, harder.
Wei Ying didn’t think he was going to last very long like this. He had been so turned on by the time he spent fingering Lan Zhan that he was already on the edge by the time he got any stimulation.
It seemed that Lan Zhan wasn’t going to last either, judging by the sounds he was making.
Wei Ying kept up his pace, trying to aim for that bundle of nerves inside Lan Zhan, wanting to make him feel as good as he could.
“Wei Ying, touch me,” Lan Zhan gasped out. “Almost—”
Wei Ying thrust back in, so close.
“Do you think you can come like this?” He asked, hips stuttering in their rhythm.
Wangji made a noise low in the back of his throat.
“I need—touch me,” Lan Zhan wrapped his own hand around his cock.
Wei Ying shoved his hand away and replaced it with his own.
“I’ve got you, come on, Lan Zhan, let go.”
Lan Zhan came with a shout, clenching around Wei Ying’s cock.
The sudden added pressure had him gasping against Lan Zhan’s throat, as Lan Zhan came undone underneath him, coating both their stomach’s with his release.
Wei Ying followed close behind, muffling the noise of his release into Lan Zhan’s neck, fucking him through both their orgasms. He moved until he was too sensitive to stand it. Rocking his softening cock against him until he slipped out completely. He collapsed against Lan Zhan’s chest after he was spent.
“I love you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to his husband’s collarbone.
“Mn.” Lan Zhan‘s chest was still heaving as he nuzzled into the top of his husband’s head. “Love you too.”
Wei Ying snuggled in closer.
“You know we’re going to do this again, right?” He asked.
He could feel Lan Zhan’s smile in his hair.
“Looking forward to it,” he said.