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WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, XIAO.XINGCHEN. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 018.07.154.55 *** XIAO.XINGCHEN has joined 018.07.154.55 <XIAO.XINGCHEN> You have reached Xiao Xingchen. <XIAO.XINGCHEN> I am often away from my laptop, but I will do my best to answer as soon as I'm able. | ||||
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in the meantime, xingchen is of course going to come along when he's tugged, following jiang wanyin off out of the hall, though he quickly moves to keep pace with beside him once they're walking along the pier. and in truth, he hardly realizes that his companion does the same as he surveys the moonlit surface of the lotus ponds, the elegant lines of the piers and buildings which hover above the water. he has been here several times since their arrival (if one could call it that), but it's never any less pleasant to look at. 'all of this here will be yours now, too,' jiang wanyin says, a quiet pride clear in his tone - and is that what what he thinks is on xingchen's mind? as he admires this lotus pier, does wanyin think that he surveys that which he now lays some sort of claim to? this home of yunmeng jiang is lovely, exceptionally so, but that's all the more reason that xingchen doesn't want it. doesn't want dominion over it. he would be more than content to simply admire it, to protect it if such a need arises - and perhaps, with help from jiang wanyin, to arrive within it and feel at home.
hopefully his continued admiration of the sights and the similarly steady hand curled around wanyin's is answered enough.
but then the grip on xingchen's hand tightens, and the path before them has no further branches but that which leads to the set of doors before them. a familiar set of doors, if only passably, from the day they awoke at this age. jiang-zongzhu's quarters. xingchen hardly knew the man then, yet his uncertainty and discomfort at the rooms being his were palpable in the air. and so, before jiang wanyin has a chance to let them in, xingchen's free hand lifts to set fingertips where the doors meet - a wordless 'one moment', as he looks to his new husband now. )
I had just remembered-... ( no, that isn't the way to go about it - naming jiang wanyin's discomfort so openly. instead, the hand on the door lifts now to catch the fresh-cut bit of bangs in the curl of his fingers, smoothing it fondly. ) I only meant to ask if you wouldn't prefer we retreat to the quarters you're more accustomed to. ( it's not as if xingchen is one to be all that impressed by some manner of grandiose suite. if given the choice, he would prefer they go where wanyin feels most at home. )
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He relaxes the tiniest bit when Xingchen cuts himself off, clearly awkward himself, and another little bit when he reaches out to play with his bangs. It's so sweet and affectionate and so very... it just feels so intimate, so much like the casual, tender intimacy he had always hoped he would have with his spouse one day. His heart thuds a little faster for it.
His eyes flicker from Xingchen's face to the door and back again, and his front teeth dig into his bottom lip. No, he doesn't really want to have his wedding night (whatever this may or may not entail) in his father's room. It is weird both because to him his father isn't dead and also uncomfortable because he doesn't want to think about that having changed in the last 20 something years. ]
But... shouldn't we? It's appropriate. [ Yet even as he says it, he already knows that Xiao Xingchen won't care about such things, so he gives a little nod without even waiting for his protests to be brushed aside. He gives his hand another squeeze. ] My room... my old room, isn't far from here, and it's still nearly the same.
[ It really isn't far. It is the same room he used to share with Wei Wuxian as a child and now - in his memory, now - has for himself. It looks like it hadn't been changed much, only some things missing, a few of them now found in his other room, and some things new which he would acquire in years to come. But it's nice and familiar, and he feels far more confident in there, even if the air is stale.
He gives Xingchen another smile. ] Thank you.
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and sure enough, here comes a nod, a squeeze, and a shift in plans. and even if the room is only nearly the same, it's far more so than this one, and any stale air can be remedied with a bit of sunlight and crisp breeze. or... just the breeze, xingchen supposes, at this hour.
'thank you.' the smile is answered with one of xingchen's own, his own newfound tuft of bangs fluttering faintly as he shakes his head. ) No need. ( he considers advising that jiang wanyin raise his standards for gratitude some - thanking xingchen for each new bit of consideration will exhaust him quickly and thoroughly, what with how much he'll be receiving - but that strikes him as a lesson best learned firsthand. so instead, he gives the slightest tug to the hand in his, drawing back a step from the door before them. ) Shall you be leading us in the proper direction, or am I to guess? ( a bit of teasing, to lighten the moment some. )
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[ Said and done, he grabs Xingchen's hand and drags him along.
His old rooms are indeed not far from his new rooms, and he finally releases Xingchen's hand so he can open the doors widely with both hands, making a grand show of it though the room isn't anything special at all.
Tidy, if a little empty for many objects having been taken when Jiang Cheng moved, but it has obviously been taken good care of. Jiang Cheng had already dusted and made the bed the other day when he had been uncertain if he would be able or willing to sleep in his new room. ]
It's nothing special [ he demurs with a self-conscious shrug. ] It's just a room. [ Larger than the room of a child that isn't a great sect's heir, of course, but still. ] The view on one of the larger lotus ponds is nice, but it is too cold now to keep the window open.
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yes, this will be a perfectly lovely place to spend the evening.
though jiang wanyin comments on the view, xingchen makes no effort to see it for himself. in the morning, perhaps, when the daylight might allow him to see a bit more of it. for now, he shifts his brief survey of the room to something a bit more helpful, locating the nearest candle for a bit of light. soon he has it lit, and though it's still just one small flame flickering in the darkness of the room, it's still more than enough glow by which to turn eyes on jiang wanyin. his companion seems to have lost a bit of the daring their bows briefly lent him, falling instead to a sort of self-deprecation or doubt - and that simply won't do.
xingchen returns to him now, each step soft and unhurried, until he's close enough to reach out and reclaim the man's hands in each of his. one is lifted now so that xingchen brush a light kiss to the knuckles. it's a gesture he has seen more than once in his scattered trips to bavan, and one which stands to convey his sentiments far better in this moment than any of their own realm's traditions.
then he brings that hand to his cheek, setting it there as if jiang wanyin has done so of his own accord. he might have, perhaps, had xingchen given him the time - but xingchen isn't especially inclined to allow him to fret for however much longer that might take. )
Wanyin. ( a single hushed word, his gaze steady on jiang wanyin's even if his new husband opts not to return it. after a couple of moments, ) If it's... this evening, that you're worried about - I hope you know that we don't need to do anything you aren't comfortable with.
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Before he can start considering getting some red cloth to drape the room in, Xingchen is back at his side and...
Oh.
He feels himself blushing under his touch, even as he smiles. ] I know. [ He licks his lips and ducks his head a little, but slowly since he is careful not to dislodge his hand. ] I know you wouldn't push me into anything I don't want to do. You aren't like that. And I want to! [ Cue a moment of silent mourning for his dignity, which is right now being consumed in the flames of his mortification. ] Do... stuff. It's just weird, you know! We aren't allowed to and then suddenly we are supposed to. But it's probably not that weird for you. You wouldn't have worried about being proper. [ With girls, that is, he had been reprimanded about being proper with girls. But it probably counts for boys, too, "don't you dare bring any bastards home!" aside. ]
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quite fortunately, the topic isn't mentioned, so xingchen isn't given the opportunity to be briefly but thoroughly surprised (and, admittedly, a bit impressed) by the lewdness of that remark.
instead, wanyin assures him of his faith in xingchen's character, and more intriguingly, of his desire - a declaration which colors his poor husband's face an even more vivid shade of red than before. as as tempting as it might be on another occasion to take this opportunity for a bit of light teasing, here in the wake of their wedding bows he finds himself inexplicably inclined to rescue him. to protect him from his own overactive sense of mortification, as silly as that sounds. then comes, 'you wouldn't have worried about being proper,' and xingchen lets out a quiet laugh despite himself. )
Oh, certainly not. What need could a daozhang possibly have for propriety? ( all teasing, of course, his grin perhaps a bit too bright for the occasion - but it quiets once his words are through, his expression shifting to something more subtly considering. one hand still intertwines fingers with jiang wanyin's, and the other drops now to catch his free hand too as xingchen steps in closer, close enough now that their chests nearly brush. it places him perfectly in range to lean in and brush a kiss against wanyin's lips.
then he's drawing back just barely enough that when his eyes open again, they can seek out his companion's. he doesn't leave any time for wanyin to comment or fluster, hushed words following at once. ) I have a proposition, if you'll hear it.
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But there is something miraculous about Xingchen, which is probably the same thing that led to their older selves getting together: he is remarkably tolerant of Jiang Cheng's many flaws. Including the foot-in-mouth flaw, apparently, for he looks only amused and not offended.
Jiang Cheng even earns a kiss for his rudeness. Somehow. He basks in the feeling of soft, warm lips against his own, short as it is, and squeezes his hand tightly. His lips are still tingling from the kiss. ]
What kind of proposition? [ he asks back, for he is not completely devoid of his wits. Only halfway. The kissing did steal some of his wits. ] A proposition proposition? Because I think it's too late for that, amoral offers are made before marriage.[ He freezes. Winces. Cringes. Okay, maybe the kiss has stolen most of his wits. ]
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You put a great deal of effort into the ceremony. It was lovely - and with so little time to prepare, ( he explains at just above a whisper, fingers still resting over wanyin's lips, though his thumb brushes a light apology along the line of his jaw. ) And all that I've done is arrive here in red.
( the faint note of dry humor in that last bit disappears now, though the slightest smile lingers at the very corners of his lips. ) My proposition was simply that I could return the favor here. You weren't incorrect - it isn't weird for me, and I'm quite confident in my ability to ensure that it isn't weird for you, either.
( he is offering, in essence, to guide them through whatever it is that they'll be undertaking this evening. he has no more experience in such matters than his new husband, but he can certainly act as though he does for the sake of minimizing the pressure on jiang wanyin.
his fingers linger in place for a couple of seconds more - a couple of seconds of eye contact at this new proximity, and hopefully of wanyin cycling past whatever reflexive response may have bubbled forth and achieving some level of genuine thought on the matter. and then his hand does indeed fall away, landing lightly on jiang wanyin's shoulder instead. )
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But this offer, this offer is very kind, just like everything he has seen of Xingchen points towards. He can't even interpret any slight into it. ]
I would like that [ he decides after only a moment's deliberation. ] Even if neither of us knows much about these matters... [ Xingchen is less likely to embarrass himself. Or in things he can actually voice, ] I should trust in my husband to guide me well. This will be a good first way to prove my sincerity.
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a beat passes, and then xingchen's backing away a step, his hand falling away from wanyin's shoulder but the fingers of their other hands still intertwined (loosely, in case his companion should choose not to follow). ) Sit with me. ( and for once, such a thing isn't phrased as a question (though he should hope that it's known that jiang wanyin can still decline if he'd prefer). whether or not his husband follows along, xingchen moves over to the bed now and sinks down seated on the edge of it. that's all, for now - just sitting together, and haven't they done that quite a few times before? )
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So he follows and sits with him, and after a moment's thought he reaches out for Xingchen with the hand he isn't already holding on to. He trails his fingers through his hair, then down to his cheek. ] Are you going to kiss me again now? [ he asks, voice hopeful as if this is actually something he can't be certain of. ]
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(warming the space, perhaps, for jiang wanyin to do the same.)
that delight makes it all too easy for a smile to find his lips as fingers brush along his cheek, and perhaps that smile is even a bit wondering - but he doesn't allow them long to dwell on it. because he has been so sweetly asked if he's 'going to kiss me again now' and there seems but one reasonable answer to that. )
I am, ( xingchen affirms, as if warning aloud as such is even truly necessary when he's already shifting across what little space remained between them until they're just beside one another, the outside of his thigh resting against jiang wanyin's. his own free hand finds a bit of loose hair now too, but only to tuck it back behind his companion's ear before letting his palm rest properly on the side of wanyin's chin. ) And you'll tell me, of course, if I take things too quickly. ( one more not-a-question, though this one is much less negotiable (in fact, it's integral to his taking the lead, not that he sees the need to spell it out as such). and without another second wasted, xingchen does indeed dip in to press his lips to his husband's - press, not brush like before. a beat passes like this, then another, in a way which feels almost considering... but then comes the first exploratory movement of lips against jiang wanyin's. )
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He presses into the kiss and moves his own lips against his, another little noise escaping him at this. Kissing is so much. How is he ever going to take it for granted? Impossible, certainly, especially when he is so tightly wound up from anticipation of everything that might follow the kissing. His fingers clench and unclench around a fistful of his husband's wedding not-robes. He even parts his lips a little in giddy anticipation and lets his hand fall down to his hip - just wanting to touch, to hold on to him, still overwhelmed by the concept that he is perfectly allowed to do so now. ]
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meanwhile, the parting of lips is nearly enough to distract from the hand now sliding down to xingchen's hip as xingchen allows his own lips to part with a breath like a quiet pleased sigh, the tip of his tongue brushing inquisitively at wanyin's bottom lip. but even still, he thinks to let his own free hand track his companion's arm down to where the hand rests at his hip, letting his hand rest on top of it for a moment in wordless affirmation that he is allowed to do so. in fact, it isn't just allowed, but welcomed - though it does draw his attention to their somewhat inconvenient positioning, and without so much as breaking the contact between their lips, xingchen loops his forearm under jiang wanyin's thighs (just above the bend of his knees) and draws his legs up over xingchen's own lap. it's not nearly so intimate as sitting on his lap, but it lends much better to kissing than sitting side-by-side as such. and though his hand then settles on the side of his husband's knee, it's more a thoughtless reassurance than any sort of proper grip. )
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Right now, though, pride is the last thing on his mind. He gives him a wide-eyed look out of startled eyes, his mouth opened into a surprised oh. ]
This is better for kissing [ he observes, and belatedly realizes this is probably why he was positioned so. With his arms now around Xingchen's neck, he has brought himself even closer, too, bringing them as close to chest to chest as they can get in this position. And maybe, he thinks, he wouldn't mind fully sitting in his lap. He presses his lips together for a moment, giddy and nervous as he gathers his courage, then tilts his head back in challenge. ] And what will you do with me now that you have me here, daozhang?
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and perhaps also a bit lower, that wanyin trusts him so very much as to reach for him by instinct. to offer up that vulnerability, even just for a moment, sparks in xingchen the formless urge to protect him, however little there is to protect him from right in this moment - and to take care of him. he hadn't really had a proper conception of what he hoped for tonight to be, but one is beginning to come together now, and it has very little to do with his own personal pleasure.'this is better for kissing.' the observation earns a warm hummed 'mhm' and a little nod, because that was indeed the point of the maneuver. meanwhile, somewhere along the line, the hand which formerly guided the kiss has fallen away, and it and the other settle quite naturally now in the curve above each of wanyin's hips - not low enough to be properly lewd, he doesn't plan to alarm his poor companion as such just yet. oh, but then jiang wanyin seems to bolster himself just enough to offer a challenge. a proper one, with the tone and the tilt of his head, as though challenging him to spar, all capped off with a pointed 'daozhang'.
by now, jiang wanyin has surely come to recognize within xiao xingchen's eyes the precise flicker of sharp and ominous delight which means that wanyin has somehow just sealed his own fate. it comes again now, though the rest of his expression remains unchanged, the smile lingering on his lips as he muses, ) Daozhang now, hmm - just a minute ago I was simply 'husband'. ( his tone is laced with benign teasing - far too benign, after so ominous a look. and sure enough: ) But if you'd like me to be 'daozhang' as well...
( the hands release jiang wanyin's waist now, one arm curling firmly around the small of his back while the other hand slides up the centerline of his ribs and chest until it settles near the top of his sternum - and it takes little more than a moment's press of that hand to straighten wanyin's back a bit. and without breaking eye contact, he tilts his head just slightly. ) Now that we've fixed your posture, ( he says - a low murmur in the quiet, and each word of the rest comes just a little more slowly: ) Shall we test your discipline?
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And of course, there it comes, for he has issued a challenge and Xingchen wouldn't be Xingchen if he didn't accept it and return it twicefold.
He sucks in a sharp breath at his teasing, his eyes narrowing as if he is only daring him to act on his words. And of course he does that, too. The hand on his back, soft and gentle and oh so commanding that heat pools sharp and scorching low in his belly, and between his legs, and a soft needy whimper escapes his parted lips. His body follows, posture straightening under his command, and the lingering hand burns into his back like his gaze burns into his eyes, it burns.
But... but, there is more still, and that first whimper is followed by a strangled, half-choked noise. ] Discipline? [ he squeaks out, his eyes so incredibly wide and his arms tightening desperately around Xingchen's neck as he simply needs to hold on so he won't be swept away in the storm of... of whatever this is, or whatever it is awakening in him. ]
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it was a bold move, for certain. xingchen had truthfully thought it more likely (for what precious little he thought at all) that wanyin do as he often does and push back the moment he feels he's been told what to do. in that way, it may have ended up a bit more like sparring, perhaps not combative but hardly short of it.
the whimper, however, xingchen hadn't expected. not for this. not so needy, as if merely the act of correcting his posture by hand was enough to- what? he's not quite sure yet. as assured as he may seem (and be, for the most part), this is no more familiar to him than to jiang wanyin, and he's learning every bit of it as they go along. what to do, how to do it. what his new husband enjoys. he knows that wanyin straightened with far less resistance than one might expect. he knows that a whimper like the one moments ago is a good thing, powerfully so if the hitch of hot tension below his stomach is anything by which to judge. he knows that he already wants to draw out another.
but back to the matter at hand, he has issued his question (his threat, his promise,) and now he receives his answer, however choked it may be. however tightly jiang wanyin may cling to him now. it's terribly unfair for him to continue to be endearing while xingchen is briefly too much the daozhang to give such a thing the deserved attention. )
Discipline, ( he confirms, and continues on in much the same low, deliberate not-quite-murmur as before. ) A sect heir is no doubt quite proficient in the art of meditation... Yet I find myself wondering how much so, exactly. ( it's now that wanyin may notice the hand on his chest sliding gradually lower, so very slowly that it's a wonder he notices at all. this isn't acknowledged aloud in any way, of course. ) A daozhang, for example, often achieves such mastery as to choose what they do or don't feel. The pain of an injury.... ( it's at this point that his hand slides deftly between the fold of wanyin's robes, fingers seeking and then dancing along the fantastically warm skin along his husband's ribs. ) Or anything else which might be felt.
( he leans in now, just a couple of inches but it's enough that their lips nearly brush as he murmurs, ) Can you steady your breathing?
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His fingers dig into the back of Xingchen's shoulders, he needs to hold on or else he will float away, he is sure of it. ]
I... Discipline. [ He breathes the single word in an exhale and tries to catch himself from spinning away, tries to somehow find this discipline within himself.
Yes, yes, of course he had learned meditation. He has learned to meditate through pain and fear and upset - a necessity when meditation is most sorely needed to heal yourself enough to make it to a doctor. He is reasonably confident that he can force his mind to grind to a halt amidst pain and panic, at least as well as any junior disciple can be expected to. He knows for a fact that he can withstand punishment with the dignity expected of a sect heir. But pleasure? He has never trained in withstanding the way in which pleasure clouds your mind and makes your body sing and burn with desire, and how everything in him is now attuned to Xiao Xingchen. How is he supposed to sink into meditation when he doesn't want to tear himself away from him? ]
Is that what you want me to do? [ he asks again, still breathless, but also finding himself so very eager to please. ] Do you want to touch me and I'm... not allowed to react? [ He's not even sure if this is what Xingchen is asking for. If he wants him not to feel the pleasure at all, it would truly be an impossible task right now. He bites down on his bottom lip and gives him a look almost coy, and so very eager. ] I can be quiet while you touch me. [ He can be not demanding, regardless of how much he craves more. He can be good, and let Xingchen give what he is ready to give at his own pace. ]
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There's no need, ( he says, softer around the edges now and warm with the undercurrent of fondness which wanyin will likely find quite a bit more familiar. and xingchen pauses here, a quiet kiss pressed to jiang wanyin's lips to buy himself this moment to collect himself. to revise his approach to one far less the product of nervous ambition.
then he's shifting, sliding a bit closer to the edge of the bed. the arm unwinds from around wanyin's back, his hand once again sliding under both of the thighs across his lap in order to lift them enough to slip out from beneath them. he doesn't go far, though - his other hand has lingered on the warmth of his husband's skin ever since its wandering was soundly interrupted by his prevailing chagrin, and even still it doesn't withdraw quite all the way, fingertips still lingering just below jiang wanyin's sternum. even pressing slightly, because - ) Lie back on the bed for me. ( the other hand has found wanyin's shoulder, guiding with just enough weight to indicate direction - or more specifically, to indicate that he meant to lie down lengthwise as if lying down to sleep, not simply lie back where he currently sits.
should the guidance be followed, xingchen wastes little time in sliding up onto the bed beside him, the hand on jiang wanyin's shoulder falling away so that he can use that forearm to bear his own weight as he leans in to kiss him again. a proper kiss this time, lingering and unhurried, and the fingers beneath wanyin's robe are once again joined by his palm as it slides appreciatively along the soft heat of his husband's stomach and side and back... then the kiss is broken (briefly, barely) for a murmur of, ) May I? ( which explains itself just a moment later as his hand withdraws to the belt of jiang wanyin's robes. )
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It is confusing, and Jiang Cheng has to fight a hint of a pout, reminding himself that being told to lie on the bed is nothing to pout about.
He does obey, quite willingly so, letting himself be guided just as willingly. He welcomes the kiss, sweet and lingering and leaving him flushed all the way down to his toes.
All of this is so sweet and yet... ] You can take off my belt [ he declares, feeling very bold for it. ] And the rest of my robes, too. [ His fingers tangle in Xingchen's hair, though, and first he pulls him close again for another kiss, even as his body shudders under the gentle touch of fingers caressing bare skin. He just holds on tighter, sinks himself deeper into the kiss. Then he blinks up at him, brows furrowing just a little bit as he fights with his own embarrassment at wanting such a thing, and pointedly adds ] Daozhang. [ Because he likes the gentleness, the softness, but he wasn't done yet, he had just been uncertain. But he can do it, be what Xingchen asked of him there, regain the delicious thrill it had sent through him. ] I can restrain myself. My breathing. And the rest of me, too. [ Well, he can certainly try. ]
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the flicker of xingchen's own brow is subtle, barely perceptible even at this proximity, though he isn't given time to decide what to make of the turnabout before wanyin continues. offers restraint, of his breathing, of the rest of him - and despite the relative ease with which he usually understands this very man, xingchen can't properly discern if this eagerness to please is because wanyin himself is drawn to such imbalance of power or because he thinks that xingchen is and he's trying so very diligently to play along.
all of which means that he can neither accept nor decline out of hand. and thus he'll do neither, at least not just yet. fingers slip once again beneath the fold of his robe (with much more ease, absent of anything tying it shut) to slide up jiang wanyin's stomach, ribs, chest - unhurried and perhaps even faintly proprietary. the fond warmth is absent when he speaks, nor has he taken up the former (somewhat dramatized) 'daozhang' enunciation again quite yet. lips brush his husband's, light as a feather, as he hums a thoughtful: ) For what purpose?
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There is so much wrapped up in this not-so-simple feeling of want, in the thrill of going along with a game that makes his heart race faster and his belly clench tight with arousal.
So much, and now he is supposed to find words for it.
The brush of lips against his own earns an agonized whimper-whine as he tries to force his brain back into working, into producing words or anything beyond the need to make Xingchen look at him like this again, talk to him like this again... ]
I... [ He squirms under the fingers teasing over heated skin, squirming to get closer instead of away even as he vaguely realizes that squirming with need is probably not being good and using his studies to control himself. But he wants! He needs. Indignation bubbles up in him and he blurts out, ] Are you giving me homework when all I'm trying to do is get us off? [ Maybe not his smoothest moment, or his best, so he reaches for Xingchen's hand, curls his fingers around his wrist to keep it right there where it is skimming over the soft skin of his belly. ] Let me breathe for you. It's not fair to make me crave something I didn't even know I want only to take it away.
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and regardless, he's hardly alone in his confusion. xingchen hadn't anticipated quite so much of a struggle to identify precisely what it is that his new husband desires, and yet here he is, finding his footing again for the second or third time thus far in the short couple of minutes since they've begun. and no sooner does he have said footing, along with some degree of confidence that he has found the correct path at last, that jiang wanyin- well, he goes and says that, far too sharp and too loud for the circumstances or the proximity.
the furrow of xingchen's brow is hardly so subtle this time, and he draws in a sharp quiet breath which no doubt sounds bruised and indignant despite his best efforts. he's halfway to sitting upright when the hand wraps around his wrist, stilling him there for the moment as wanyin makes his case. 'let me breathe for you,' as if he hasn't just declared precisely that very thing an overcomplication to his singular goal of their mutual release - a declaration which stole away the potency that such a request would undeniably have otherwise had.
but then - 'it's not fair to make me crave something i didn't even know i want, only to take it away.' for a moment, xingchen says nothing. does nothing, only continues to eye him with what might be mistaken for an aloof sort of scrutiny if not for the subtle burning still lingering in his gaze. then: )
Tell me what you want. ( these are his terms, hushed but leaving little room for negotiation in either wording or tone. then he leans in a little bit further, his other hand joining the first in unhurried appreciation of his husband's bare skin, gliding up along his ribs and chest. xingchen's gaze flickers down when his fingertips ghost over the peak of one nipple, his eyes half-lidded, his pupils half-blown. ) What it is that I've made you to crave.
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