lazingroyalty | (no subject)

(no subject)

It could have been worse.

The statement, despite being true, doesn't fill Guangyao with any sense of relief. If anything, it's annoying. Of cours eh didn't want to die, but to have even that taken away from him at the end, stripped of rank, title, any distinguishing mark of who he once was? He might as well have been dead.

No cinnabar mark dotted his brow. No scholar's hat on his head. No robes of gold and cream.

Instead it was replaced with...plainness, though one would struggle to describe Guangyao's face as plain even now. White robes, an unadorned home. The area was breathtakingly beautiful, of course, as the land of the Gusu Lan Sect usually are.

But there is nothing.

Oh there's birds and animals that wander by. There are servants who come to tidy the place, but none dare to speak to him. They're smart to refrain from doing so, Guangyao will reluctantly admit, but it's annoying all the same. He finds himself more and more looking anxiously and eagerly for Xichen's visits, needing something to break up the monotony.

So he paces, hands clasped behind his back, making sure his steps are measured and slow so as not to be mistaken for the agitation and impatience that it was. Her shoulder still ached from the scarred wound from Wangji's blade very nearly cleaving it from him; it had been close, sure, but Gusu's healers were famed for a reason. Just another tally on the list of things he owes Xichen for saving him from.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He shouldn't be this flustered over this praise, but he nearly weeps with it. "Yes, yes," he murmurs in agreement. He is indeed a good boy, a sweet boy. "Always for you."

He could get addicted to this, to the stretch and the burn of it that makes him feel more alive than he ever has, a keening noise sounding through the bedroom as Xichen lifts his hips. "Ah, ah-- A-Huan...!"

He reaches down, pressing a hand against his stomach and sliding down. He tightens with a sudden arousal that shocks him when he can feel the way Xichen's cock slides into him and he moans. "I can feel it, A-Huan, I can feel you. I'm going to-- I want to come again, I can't--"

How is he supposed to last like this?

A broken sound croaks free as he feels pressure from elsewhere, glancing down to see Jin Guangyao petting the swollen bump where Xichen's cock is fucking deepest.

"Sweetheart." It has such an effect on him that Xichen groans loudly and grinds in with shallow thrusts, lacing their fingers as he pets the same place in a lower abdomen. "Fuck, you're so small, so pretty ..."

It might have been galling for Jin Guangyao to have to literally look up at so many people but he's the perfect size for Xichen who abruptly gathers him up in an arm and levies him to sit up on his lap without an ounce of effort. There, that's better. Going against his lover's wishes, he doesn't seem in a hurry to help him and instead intends to edge him on his cock.

Kisses smear up and down Jin Guangyao's neck as Xichen gathers him up in the new position, going back to petting the bulge he's creating.

"Look how deep I am inside you, a-Yao, my love ..."

It slips out.

From anyone else it would’ve changed. Always the small one, always the weak one. But with Xichen it doesn’t feel like an insult, it feels like praise. So small, but just right for him. So small, but able to take his cock so well.

He whimpers, clinging to Xichen as he brings them up and crying out as it feels like it makes Xichen sink in somehow deeper.

Guangyao gasps for air, squirming in Xichen lap, hips shaking as he tries to find the angle that’ll help get him off. “Please, I want to come, I can’t take this.” He whines, pleading, pressing kisses to Xichen’s face.

‘Love,’ Xichen says, and Guangyao tightens on his cock, breath stuttering. It feels ridiculous, but tears fill his eyes. Even if it’s in the throes of passion, even if he knows, in the logical, traitorous part of his mind that he can’t believe it since it’s said in such a position like this— his heart still sings with it.

“Yes,” he whispers. “Yours’. Love, Ah— Everything. You’re my everything. I’m yours’, forever, however you’ll have me.”

The famed Lan arm strength comes into play as he lifts Jin Guangyao up with both hands under his ass, helping him to ride his cock to the obscene sound of being fucked that fills the house. It has Xichen's biceps taut, keeping him there, but the effort is negligible when he can look down as see how deep he's fucking him by the swell on that cute belly, sweet kisses dappling his cheek and jaw as Jin Guangyao begs.

"Go ahead, baobei," the endearment is playful as he nuzzles his way down his lover's neck, knowing nothing except this man is his, his zhiji, and he would do anything for him. Live or die. I'm yours, forever, however you'll have me. Every way possible, he thinks when he hears that. A groan lodges in his throat as he feels the way the body around his cock is clamping down. "You can come without being stroked, can't you? My good boy, my a-Yao."

He's close too, biting at Jin Guangyao's neck as tension ripples all through Xichen and he fucks him faster. All that spiteful talk of being Xichen's wife and now his a-Yao is desperate for him to fill him up, filthy sweet thing that he is. It's too much to bear and Xichen drags him down as he gives in, hot come spilling inside in thick ropes to make Jin Guangyao his, marked and dirty. His breathing is staccato and shallow, still continuing to slam in so he can get his lover off.

"Got you, oh love, I've got you."

"Fuck, fuck--" The curses spill out without him being able to stop it, head tilted back as rides it out. He can't handle the praise that Xichen lavishes on him so easily, like it's nothing at all to do. He shakes his head--no, he can't come again without being touched, he needs it, how can he do it without a hand (literally, figuratively)?

But then Xichen comes and Guangyao's mind unravels. His body tenses and goes tight, crying out as the tightening coil in his lower stomach snaps and he comes, spilling over both their stomachs.

Tears slip down from his eyes, Guangyao whining as he clings to Xichen. "Don't pull out," he finally manages to gasp, holding on tight. "I don't want it spilling out yet. A-Huan..." He presses lazy kisses to Xichen's face and neck, muscles twitching like he was unconsciously trying to milk Xichen for every drop.

"Baobei, baobei ... I won't pull out."

That's the very last thing he wants to do, dazedly running his hands up and down Jin Guangyao's sides and thighs, petting his ass with a squeeze. Xichen groans, smearing a kiss on the other man's neck as he feels him tensing around his cock, and he knows there's no chance of him softening yet. He usually goes twice anyway, and with Jin Guangyao on his lap ...

He frames his hips and starts a slow grind, nudging up against a well-worked prostate. His lips catch on an ear, kissing there.

"Love the way you take me, so pretty."

He pets down a navel, right over the bulge he still makes with each shallow thrust keeping Jin Guangyao full of eight inches of cock. He has never felt more like an animal in his life, monk-like rules melted away from the furnace of his body and a carnal need to fuck his zhiji until his lover passes out.

"If you ever misbehave, a-Yao, I won't fuck you all week."

He’s still out of it enough that he doesn’t realize that Xichen is still hard inside of him as he slowly relaxes. He melts against Xichen’s body, feeling content and warm, full.

Then Xichen begins to move his hips and Guangyao’s breath hitches. “A-Huan—“

Is he going to keep going? Oh, he’ll break. He’ll absolutely break, and he can’t bring himself to tell Xichen to stop. He doesn’t want to stop.

He whines and squirms with every thrust, sitting up to look at Xichen with half-lidded eyes. “Nooo,” he shakes his head, clinging to him. “I won’t. I’ll be good. How am I supposed to go without this any more?”

"You won't," he promises it while fucking up into the tight grip of his lover, cock rubbing him as deep as Xichen can grind it, "you've got me."

For as long as they can make things work, he won't abandon him in this house all alone. Maybe it's a little too close to what happened to Xichen's mother for comfort but he's beyond caring at this point, the world has gone to hell and he has his own beautiful little demon to fuck whenever they want.

He thumbs under those fluttering lashes, cupping a cheek as he kisses him slowly, groaning with the way his cock twitches inside Jin Guangyao.

"You were made for me."

He's going to absolutely perish. Every thrust, every rub of Xichen's thick cock inside of him drives the thoughts from his head, one by one. He can't think of anything else but how full he is, how his body twitches and throbs in time with Xichen's.

His sense are filled with him. Mind, body, soul, he can't think of anything else. Guangyao eagerly kisses Xichen back, moaning softly in something like agreement as he shakily rocks his hips. He's too tired to really get a good rhythm, his own cock giving a tired, but valiant twitch. He can't get hard yet, but there's a pleasure ebbing and flowing through him like a wave he's riding. He can't tell if maybe he's come again or if he even stopped the first time, all of it swirling in his head like a fog.

The exhaustion seeps through skin and muscle all the way to the bone, making him whimper and rest his entire body weight against Xichen. "Yes," he murmurs in agreement. He was made for Xichen, made for this. While he might normally balk at such an idea, right now he can't even begin to remember why it used to bother him. "Only you. My body will remember only you, forever. You're ruining me for anyone else."

Not that there would ever be anyone else after everything anyhow, but still.

They wasted so much time, he thinks, and perhaps if he had been more straight-forward then a woman and he son wouldn't have had to die by such cruel methods. Jin Guangyao would have been too busy taking load after load of Xichen's come to bother with a wife, beautiful and desperate like he is right now as he kisses with an unhinged hunger repaid in kind, the curve of his ass squeezed as Xichen helps him bounce on his cock into over-stimulation.

He sinks his qi into him through everywhere they touch, tongue and cock and hands coaxing at Jin Guangyao's qi to dual cultivate as they make love (fuck, yes, but also). Xichen's is a cool blue, a leftover sparkle on his lover's skin that hints at nothing of the torrential waterfall constantly cycling around his meridians from a powerful golden core, and he moans as he sees him through more than eyes or skin, opening himself up to being known on a level more intimate than even the joining of their bodies.

"A-Yao ..."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only