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Yesterday, sprawled out on Xie Lian and humming softly against his throat, Hua Cheng had murmured, “Gege, gege, will you fuck me next time, too?”
Today, Hua Cheng lets himself be crowded against the kitchen counter and wonders how soon Xie Lian thought he meant by ‘next time.’
“Gege?” Hua Cheng asks when he sees the hungry look in Xie Lian’s eyes, but he doesn’t have much time to process it before Xie Lian’s mouth is surging up against his own. He sighs into the kiss, hands reaching up to tangle themselves in Xie Lian’s hair as they pull each other closer in tandem.
Xie Lian’s arms come to rest at the small of his back, his hands overlapping. Hua Cheng belatedly realizes why when he’s pressed against the counter, Xie Lian’s arms protecting the area where the wood would dig uncomfortably into his back. He sighs into the kiss, mouth falling open just enough for Xie Lian to lap at him like a starving man.
Hua Cheng is finding he quite likes this bold new side of his husband. He gasps a little when Xie Lian nips his lip harshly and decides he doesn’t just like it, he loves it.
Hua Cheng draws back, a silvery thread of spit dangling between their red lips. It glistens in the light, shuddering and thinning before it snaps unevenly and falls mostly onto Hua Cheng’s chin. His mouth is still slightly parted, and his tongue darts out to swipe whatever he can get back into his mouth. He swallows.
Xie Lian’s eyes track the movement greedily, pupils dilating as he watches Hua Cheng’s throat flex. Then he’s diving back in to claim Hua Cheng’s lips in a messy, bruising kiss that leaves both their mouths swollen when they break apart for air. They’re both panting, but Hua Cheng doesn’t really need to breathe — it’s just that kissing Xie Lian always makes him feel this breathless, and he finds himself unconsciously gulping down mouthfuls of air to compensate.
“Gege,” Hua Cheng murmurs as Xie Lian presses closer, “what’s the occasion?”
Xie Lian beams. “The occasion is that my husband—” he leans in, presses a feather-light kiss to each of Hua Cheng’s brows, “—is unfairly handsome, and I’d like to make good on a promise I made him.”
Hua Cheng flushes, mouth popping open as he immediately understands what’s been left unsaid and pulls him back in for another hungry kiss. They stay like that for so long that Hua Cheng loses track of time, and the kiss softens into something long, slow, and obnoxiously loud. Each sound darkens the blush at the tips of his ears, but he can’t bring himself to stop, too lost in the languid slide of Xie Lian’s lips against his own and far, far too turned on to break it.
It turns out he doesn’t have to. Xie Lian does that for him, and at the same time he braces his hands behind Hua Cheng’s thighs and lifts him easily. Hua Cheng gasps as he’s deposited on top of the counter, but he barely has time to suck in a breath before Xie Lian is kissing him more urgently than ever, his hands now free to wander wherever he pleases.
One of Xie Lian’s hands rubs gentle circles against Hua Cheng’s hipbone, while the other snakes up the plane of his stomach and comes to rest on his chest, thumbing gently at the collar of his robes. “Help me get these off,” he breathes, and Hua Cheng waves a hand to dissipate the robes entirely. Xie Lian smiles, leaning up to rest their foreheads together. “Good boy.”
Hua Cheng’s breath hitches. There’s something about the feeling of being bare against the counter like this while Xie Lian is fully-clothed. He feels almost like a prize, and his cock twitches a little at the thought. It doesn’t go unnoticed; when Hua Cheng next meets his eyes, Xie Lian is smirking.
“You liked that?” asks Xie Lian, his voice taking on the gentle and patient tone he uses when he wants to coax something difficult out of Hua Cheng. When Hua Cheng tries to look away, Xie Lian’s hand catches him by the chin, tilting his head down so that their eyes are locked. “San Lang.”
“I liked it,” Hua Cheng confirms, swallowing thickly. He tugs at the swathe of robes falling over Xie Lian’s hip. “Gege, let me see you.”
Xie Lian’s smile turns a little bashful, but he complies, gently pulling his robes apart and draping each one over the counter. Hua Cheng drinks in the sight of him — his lean body, his soft skin, the light blush that fans across his chest. Embarrassed by the attention, Xie Lian laughs nervously. “San Lang-ah, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”
“Every time I see gege, it feels like the first time,” Hua Cheng says earnestly. “This San Lang is eternally grateful for the privilege.”
Xie Lian laughs, kisses the corner of his mouth, and then trails inward, pressing another chaste kiss to Hua Cheng’s lips before pulling away. “San Lang,” he murmurs, his voice a little lower than usual as the blush starts to fade from his cheeks. “I have a theory.”
His fingers trail along the tops of Hua Cheng’s thighs, and Hua Cheng ignores the shiver that runs through him in favor of responding. “Do share, gege,” he says, smiling a little.
“Mm. You’ll see,” Xie Lian murmurs, and then he runs his fingertips up the shaft of Hua Cheng’s half-hard cock.
This time, Hua Cheng gasps, thighs tensing. It isn’t much of a sensation, and both his cock and Xie Lian’s fingers are mostly dry, but the barely-there feeling drives him mad for more. “Gege,” he whines in protest, but Xie Lian just laughs and drums his fingers against Hua Cheng’s knees, palming them gently as they cage in his own hips.
“Give me the oil,” he says, and then he braces his hands against Hua Cheng’s knees and forces them wide apart.
Hua Cheng’s breath catches in his throat again. When he tries to bashfully close his legs, Xie Lian’s hands remain where they are, steadfast in their mission to keep him spread. He tries to speak, but his mouth has gone dry.
“The oil, dearest,” Xie Lian reminds him, and Hua Cheng swallows around the grating dryness in his mouth and produces the vial he’d taken from his robes before waving them away. Xie Lian takes it from him, their fingers brushing as he leans up to kiss Hua Cheng’s forehead. “Good boy. Thank you.”
Hua Cheng makes a little noise. His cock is fully hard, the crown tinted with an angry flush. It no longer rests on his thighs, and it’s too big to flag, so it drools against the kitchen’s wood counter and Hua Cheng can’t do anything about it. It’s agony. It’s perfect.
“Gege, you can’t reach me like this,” Hua Cheng protests when he realizes the counters are too tall for Xie Lian to fuck him like this.
“Let me worry about that,” Xie Lian admonishes him gently, and then he pries the lid off the vial of oil and Hua Cheng loses his capability of higher thought.
The oil dribbles slowly onto Xie Lian’s fingers, thick and viscous, and he rubs his fingers together for a moment to warm the oil before his hand finally drifts down between Hua Cheng’s legs. Hua Cheng scoots forward for easier access, leaning back a little, and Xie Lian kisses his collarbone in gratitude as a fingertip begins to trace his hole.
It shouldn’t feel this good. Really, it shouldn’t — but the oil is warm, and Xie Lian’s finger steadily presses inward and retreats with each full circle it makes, never fully dipping inside. Soon, he’s so wet that loud sounds echo between his legs. It sounds and feels like Xie Lian is licking him open, and it’s this delirious thought that has him moaning loudly when Xie Lian’s finger finally presses inside at a deliberate angle, sinking all the way to the base and beginning to rub torturous little circles against his prostate.
“Gege,” Hua Cheng gasps, mouth hanging open as his chin drops helplessly onto his chest. His breath fans warmly between his pectorals. Just from this, drool is already starting to gather in one corner of his mouth, threatening to dribble out. He makes a pitiful attempt to lap it back inside but fails as Xie Lian’s finger starts to thrust gently into him.
“So pretty,” Xie Lian praises, delivering a harder thrust that has Hua Cheng’s body drawing taut as he throws his head back.
Now the spit really does begin to trickle out of his mouth, racing down his chin and over his jaw like a tear before it carves a silver path down the column of his throat. Xie Lian gasps when he notices, leaning in to lick from the base of Hua Cheng’s throat all the way to the corner of his mouth to suck up the drool. They moan into each other’s mouths, only breaking so that Hua Cheng can pant, “More, gege, more, please,” with a choked whine.
His head falls forward again when two fingers prod at his slick entrance, sliding in easily. It’s like his body doesn’t know where to go, jerking him around as he’s stretched open — back and forth, side to side, shuddering helplessly with each perfect drag of Xie Lian’s fingertips against his prostate.
They carry on like this long enough to reach three fingers, long enough for Hua Cheng to know he’ll come like this if they don’t stop soon. “Gege, I’m ready,” he tries to say around the sounds that pull themselves from his chest. They’re guttural and filthy, unbecoming of a Ghost King like himself, but when he’s like this… Well. He isn’t Hua Chengzhu. He’s just San Lang, Xie Lian’s San Lang, and he knows how much Xie Lian loves the filthy sounds he makes, even if he can’t comprehend it.
“Hm?” Xie Lian asks, three fingers burying themselves deep inside Hua Cheng and grinding slowly into him. “What was that?”
“I need—” Hua Cheng breaks off with a moan at the twist of the fingers inside him.
“One more time, San Lang? I couldn’t understand you.”
“Need you!” Hua Cheng all but sobs, desperate. “Fuck me, gege, please fuck me, please—”
The sound that tears itself out of Xie Lian is almost animalistic, a low growl that has Hua Cheng’s stomach tensing in anticipation. “Good. Let’s test my theory, then.”
“Yes,” cries Hua Cheng, whining pitifully when he registers the sudden emptiness in him. It shifts to a noise of confusion when two hands pull him off the counter, dragging him through the mess of oil and precome he’s left on the counter beneath him. For a moment he worries the oil might make Xie Lian lose his grip, but he remains upright in Xie Lian’s arms, staring down at him with a blown pupil and a slack mouth. “Gege?”
“I think,” Xie Lian says slowly, “you like it when I’m holding you up.”
Hua Cheng hears a wet sound from beneath him and realizes Xie Lian must be slicking up his cock. He makes an embarrassing noise that he doesn’t know how to classify.
“Well?” Xie Lian’s tone is expectant. He commands an answer.
Dutifully, Hua Cheng says, “Gege is strong, and this San Lang is easily affected by his charms.”
Xie Lian hums. With one hand, he reaches behind Hua Cheng and drags his clean white robes towards the both of them, letting it pass through the very same mess that now stains the backs of Hua Cheng’s thighs. “Gege!” Hua Cheng can’t help but scold, “They’ll get dirty!”
“You’ll buy me new ones,” Xie Lian reasons.
“Of course, but gege shouldn’t soil his robes with my—”
“And if I want to?” Xie Lian asks, pressing close and dragging the robes behind Hua Cheng. They tickle his back, hanging loosely over the counter as Xie Lian presses him against it. “What if I want them there? What if they’re taking care of someone dear to me?”
Belatedly, Hua Cheng realizes Xie Lian hung the robes there to keep the edge of the counter from digging uncomfortably into his back. His heart melts a little. “Hngh,” he manages eloquently, and then Xie Lian’s cock presses against his entrance and he forgets every word he’s ever learned.
Well, every word may be a stretch. He retains a handful: “In me,” he begs, “please, gege— oh, please, in me, in me—”
Xie Lian sinks into him, inch by maddening inch, and Hua Cheng turns to putty in his arms. Xie Lian does two jobs at once: as he slowly presses in, he also pulls Hua Cheng down to meet him at the base, his grip on Hua Cheng’s thighs nearly bruising. Hua Cheng wishes so desperately for five purple divots to appear against each hipbone in the morning.
He thought he’d been prepared for this after what they’d done yesterday, but now Hua Cheng realizes he was completely wrong. Even though they’re relatively in the same position — Hua Cheng with his legs locked around Xie Lian’s hips, above him rather than flat on his back — it’s entirely different. He had ridden Xie Lian a little yesterday, sure, but it was an accident; he wasn't supposed to move in the first place. This is different. The stillness of Xie Lian in him will not last. Soon he will begin to thrust up into him, and Hua Cheng has no idea what will happen after that.
It terrifies him. It terrifies him so badly that his erection strains and leaks a little more precome onto Xie Lian’s abdomen. Xie Lian laughs. “Someone’s eager.”
“Please,” Hua Cheng breathes, and that’s all Xie Lian needs to begin.
The first three or four thrusts are slow, sensual. They reach deep into him and grind against his most sensitive spot, wrenching a moan from his kiss-swollen lips. “So good,” Hua Cheng gasps, feeling his brain begin to melt and drip out of his ears. “Please, gege, harder, ha— haah!”
“Hush,” Xie Lian tells him firmly, though his voice is clearly affected by the way Hua Cheng clenches on his cock. “Let me take care of you. I know what you need.”
His pace turns vicious, merciless, and he fucks up into him hard and fast with abandon. He’s right, it’s everything Hua Cheng needs. Hua Cheng sobs, arms coming up to circle Xie Lian’s neck and cling on for dear life. Below him, Xie Lian moans, brows drawn up in pleasure as his eyes flutter between open and closed, his pace unfaltering.
Words escape him. Time blurs. His cock is weeping, and he might be, too.
“Pretty boy,” Xie Lian is murmuring into his ear. “Sweet boy, you’re— ah, you’re doing so well for me. So perfect.”
Hua Cheng can’t breathe. “Gege,” he manages, but it feels like the name is fucked out of him in the form of a wail. “Oh, gege, I’m— gege—”
“I know,” Xie Lian groans, “I know, San Lang, it’s— oh, you feel so good—”
“I’m close,” Hua Cheng warns, the words garbled but clear enough for Xie Lian to nod against his chest, and then he stops.
He stops.
Hua Cheng really does sob out loud this time, clenching hard around Xie Lian’s cock as he shifts down onto it frantically. “Please, please, gege, just— gege, dianxia, please keep going! I’ll do anything—” he breaks off with a desperate moan as a shaky hand comes up to stroke the back of his head gently.
“Shh,” Xie Lian soothes. “You’re alright, we’re not stopping. I want to turn us around so I can do something for you, alright?”
If this is a repeat of yesterday, Hua Cheng is in danger. He thinks of turning around — of bending over the counter and spreading himself for Xie Lian, being fucked into the cabinets so hard his cock is caught painfully between them and himself, each thrust forcing little spurts of precome from his tender, chafing dick. He moans, nodding frantically and scrambling to find leverage to lift himself off Xie Lian’s cock, but stills when Xie Lian refuses to let him move.
Instead, he turns around, Hua Cheng still suspended in his arms. Now Xie Lian’s back is braced against the countertops, and he makes one shallow thrust into Hua Cheng to test the angle before humming in satisfaction. Then he lifts Hua Cheng up slowly, dragging him up the length of his cock, and forces him back down, and oh, that isn’t what Xie Lian had meant by that at all, was it?
Hua Cheng throws his head back and lets the moan rip out of his throat.
Xie Lian’s pace returns to its former cruelness as he drags Hua Cheng up and down his cock, using sparing, shallow thrusts to shift the angle so that the head presses directly against his prostate. Despite the fact that he’s forcing Hua Cheng up and down using only his strength, the pace is still mercilessly fast, and Hua Cheng learns he has no filter like this, but he doesn’t have very many words to slip through it, either. His tongue is fat in his mouth and moves only to wet the moans that spill past his lips as he’s fucked exactly how he wanted, exactly how he needed.
Like this, he is a toy for Xie Lian to use, a sleeve for him to fuck. “Use— oh, gege, just like that, use me,” he begs, his voice hinging on a whine. All Xie Lian can do in response is groan.
It’s perfect. It’s everything. It’s enough to make him truly weep, tears running down his cheek and dripping down the length of his torso. One tear tracks over his chest, brushing wetly past a nipple, and Hua Cheng keens, shuddering as he’s forced down to the base of Xie Lian’s cock again. His legs are locked loosely around Xie Lian’s waist, toes curling into themselves each time he feels empty.
“Gege,” he tries, but the words slur when a knot twists around itself, drawing his balls up tightly as every muscle of his body grows taut. “Gege, gege, ah— ah, gege, I’m—”
Xie Lian smiles up at him and drags him down for a filthy kiss. Their teeth knock together from the force of their coupling, Hua Cheng’s incisors accidentally catching on Xie Lian’s bottom lip when he’s pulled down especially roughly. Though Xie Lian moans in pleasure, Hua Cheng is quick to suck the lip into his mouth and lave his tongue against it soothingly, prompting another soft noise that he drinks in greedily.
Xie Lian pulls back. Somehow the up-and-down drag turns faster, harder, and all Xie Lian has to do next is lean up to whisper, “Come,” in Hua Cheng’s ear.
He’s gone in an instant. Hua Cheng’s vision blurs, eye rolling back as his entire body seizes with the force of the orgasm being fucked out of him. He feels Xie Lian tense below him, feels him begin to make sloppy, stuttering thrusts up into him and high, soft noises he thinks Hua Cheng can’t hear. Hua Cheng is shuddering, arms and legs trembling as he clings to Xie Lian and wails, each thrust fucking a meager dribble of come out of his already-spent cock.
Then Xie Lian buries himself to the hilt, twitching warmly inside him with a loud cry of, “San Lang!” and they still, breathing heavily against each other for a few minutes.
Come runs down Hua Cheng’s cock, and after a while, Xie Lian reaches down with his cleanest hand and gathers it up in the cradle of his fingers, his touch gentle to keep from overstimulating Hua Cheng. He pauses to spare a glance at his husband before tucking three fingers into his mouth, lapping up the come with a sated moan.
If Hua Cheng hadn’t just come, the sight of this alone would have done him in. “Gege,” he groans, “you’re going to be the death of me.”
Content, Xie Lian pulls his fingers from his mouth and leans up to press a sticky kiss to Hua Cheng’s cheek. “No more dying,” he says fondly. “Are you going to let me clean you up, or would you like a repeat of yesterday?”
Hua Cheng hums, long and drawn-out, and rests his chin on Xie Lian’s shoulder. “Just a little longer like this,” he requests softly. “Please.”
The smile in Xie Lian’s voice is audible when he answers. “How can I deny you when you’re so polite?” he asks, he voice gentle. He hums. “Take as long as you need. I’ve got you.”
His arms are warm around Hua Cheng. Gege’s got me, Hua Cheng tells himself, a sleepy, delirious smile pressing into the sticky skin of Xie Lian’s shoulder, lips coming away a little salty from the sweat.
The embrace is perfect. It’s exactly what he needs.