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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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( though the first little throat noise is hardly unexpected, a second soon follows, and xingchen can't help the smile that curves his lips even as those lips continue to work against jiang wanyin's. it makes it more difficult for certain, and he wills said smile away with the entirety of his discipline - but he can hardly be blamed for it, and it will no doubt happen again unless wanyin becomes much less endearing very quickly.

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. )

[ Predictably, Jiang Cheng responds with a startled noise that is only just barely short of a full-fledged squeak - and then, even more mortifying in hindsight, he wraps his arms instinctively around his new husband's neck, as if he actually needs to be steadied, or as if he is some shy bride clinging to her groom in overwhelm. Which he may be, but still. Pride.

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?

( though he's perfectly prepared to allow jiang wanyin the dignity of pretending the squeak hasn't occurred, the arms thrown around his neck have him smiling all the broader still. his companion may find it mortifying, perhaps, but xingchen can't (and wouldn't, if asked) deny the thrill of pleasure which coils in his chest ~~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?

[ Oh, he does know what that glint in his husband's eyes means. He knows the danger it bodes for him, and his belly clenches in giddy, fretful, utterly exhilarated anticipation at whatever unspeakable bold act is to follow next. Xiao Xingchen is all breathtaking boldness, Jiang Cheng has learned this already about him, and it is so incredibly titillating he hardly even remembers to voice his outrage anymore.

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. ]

Edited 2022-01-11 23:34 (UTC)

( to be fair, it's the hand on his chest that was doing the commanding. the one looped around his lower back is just to assist it in doing so, and to make perfectly clear that jiang wanyin isn't being pushed away.

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?

I... I... [ Canhe steady his breathing? He barely remembers how to breathe at all, or how to think any straight thought with how loud his own heartbeat is pounding in his ears. How is he supposed to think or to remember breathing when Xiao Xingchen's hand is burning against the bare skin of his chest, fingers skimming along ribs and getting so close to his nipples without touching or touching him in any way at all which he most craves to be touched but so warm and so present and solid and real and...

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. ]

( 'is that what you want me to do?' the question, so breathless and eager, has a pleased smile tugging ever-so-slightly at the corners of xingchen's lips - though it only lasts as long as the question which follows. one which illuminates quite vividly that somewhere along the line, xingchen has missed the mark. perhaps he hadn't played the part quite well enough. perhaps he had misread from the start and jiang wanyin calling him daozhang had not, in fact, been indicative of any sort of untoward thoughts about daozhangs after all. regardless, he had taken up playing that role thinking it would appeal to his new husband, and the fact that wanyin seems to be taking it all as some sort of confusing game which he's humoring for xingchen is... honestly somewhat mortifying. doubly so once he considers that he's been entrusted to take the lead in this and with any luck, jiang wanyin is too close to properly notice that mortification flushing faintly red in his cheeks and down along his neck as he shakes his head a little, declining the offer. )

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. )

[ Oh. It is very soft and very sweet, the gentler voice in which Xingchen speaks to him now, the adoring little kiss to his lips, even the way in which he shifts their position. It is all very sweet and wonderful, except he can feel that Xingchen is suddenly less confident in the path he is taking this, he has softened himself for Jiang Cheng. Has softened this daozhang voice he had used on him just moments ago.

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. ]

( though jiang wanyin doesn't quite commit to the pout, it doesn't go unnoticed, but there's little to be done for it now - especially while he is otherwise so very welcoming of all that xingchen has offered since. welcoming and bold indeed, inviting his own undressing so shamelessly that a forbidden sort of thrill tugs the base of his spine. and though wanyin may think this new lingering kiss a necessary diversion along the way, xingchen is more than capable of multitasking, fingers deftly working loose the belt as the kiss only deepens. he has even located the folds of the robe with intent to brush them aside, but then then jiang wanyin breaks the kiss to look up at him like that and call him 'daozhang' once again.

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?

Edited 2022-06-12 01:10 (UTC)

[ Oh, it would truly be hard for Jiang Cheng to determine whether he is thrilled by being obedient for Xiao Xingchen mostly because he wants it, or because Xingchen does. He knows it is both, but which one weighs heavier? Does it even matter to determine percentages, when he knows it to be both? There is an altogether separate thrill in doing something he knows pleases Xingchen, in giving him pleasure and being desired in turn, in knowing that his bending, his softness has brought pleasure to his lover - his husband! - and is now earning him praise.

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.

Edited 2022-06-13 19:07 (UTC)

( no, the squirming is indeed not particularly disciplined of him - but xingchen doesn't expect him to be. he hasn't yet truly even decided if he's to see this mortifying incident through to the end, let alone holding jiang wanyin to the standards thereof... though with how very closely he once again hovers along the periphery of his 'daozhang' demeanor, it's quite understandable that wanyin might hold some confusion on the matter.

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.

[ Under this scrutiny, Jiang Cheng finds himself flushing in mortification as much as in denied desire. Maybe more so, even. He could swear he can feel the judgment in this scrutiny, and it is hard not to cringe away from it. He bites down on his bottom lip as he lets these eyes look their fill and restrains himself from blurting out his next ill-thought line of attack.

This back and forth, the loud, heated demands followed by equally heated outrage and then more outrage at having his outrage heeded... Unfortunately, this is something Jiang Cheng is well aware of, but years away from learning to overcome. ]

I want you to do that again. To command me. [ But this outrage, it can give him bravery, too. Or maybe that is the lust, maybe he is simply too drunk on desire to remember how to be all that much of a coward. So he looks at Xingchen with heated stubbornness in his eyes as he demands his own submission. ] You were telling me what to do. How to... [ The outrage-fuelled courage comes quickly, but it is fickle. His eyes flicker away from Xingchen's before they settle on his lips. ] You could make me breath for you. Make me.... [ His tongue darts out to wet dry lips. ] You could make me do whatever you want for you.

I could. ( it comes without missing a beat, an audacity fueled by the heady rush of precisely what he has been asked to do - but it comes half-distracted and thoughtful, as though he might just be considering his next steps as his touch glides up to trace along one collarbone, then out to his shoulder under the lapel of his robe. here the light caress takes on a bit more weight, the back of his hand guiding the robe back from his shoulder as the other soon moves to do the same on the opposite side. )

Unless you'd prefer to keep it? ( the murmured words are a brief pocket of quiet warmth amidst whatever else this might have become, his palms just as present and warm against the bare skin of wanyin's shoulders. xingchen knows what has been asked of him, and he will most certainly deliver it shortly. first, he'll be taking this moment to balm whatever has caused his dear husband to chafe, and to think that this must be some sort of battle of wills. perhaps he will be 'making' jiang wanyin do whatever he pleases, but xingchen assured him right from the start that he could be trusted to guide them, and the last thing he wants is to cast wanyin adrift in the tide of uncertainty or unease. )

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