The weather in Yunmeng is oppressive.
The discussion conference is set to last the rest of the week, and Lan Huan doesn’t know how he’s going to manage it; it’s well into the evening, nearly time for sleep, and it’s still far too warm. He’s used to the thin mountain air of the Cloud Recesses, or even the more temperate surroundings of Jinlintai; in Lotus Pier the air is heavy and humid, and he feels weighed down.
(It had been humid at the Guanyin temple, too, before the rain; and it’s not helping that the last time he was in this weather, was that day.)
He’d been trying to meditate before sleeping, but after that thought he couldn’t just sit still, had fled onto the walkways to try and clear his head. And now he’s-
He glances around, but the part of Lotus Pier he’s strayed into is completely unfamiliar, nothing like the quarters visiting sect leaders have been assigned. He’s managed to get himself completely lost.
There’s a quiet splash ahead, and Lan Huan looks up, starts toward it – perhaps there’s someone there who can direct him back to his room.
And then he spies the source of the noise, and all thought leaves him entirely.
Sect Leader Jiang hoists himself onto the walkway, water sheeting off him and spattering across the boards. His pants are soaked through, of course, barely clinging to his hips – and Zidian aside, he’s otherwise entirely naked-
Lan Huan is absolutely and completely frozen. He knows he should look away, stop staring, but he can’t pull his eyes away from all of that skin. He watches a water droplet trickle down the hollow of Sect Leader Jiang’s throat, and wants to follow it with his tongue-
And then Sect Leader Jiang turns around, and Lan Huan nearly chokes, because on his back-
(Sect Leader Jiang has his hair pulled up in a bun, so he has a completely clear view.)
It’s a huge, sprawling tattoo. Lotus flowers wreath his lower back; a snake rises from the petals and coils fill the remaining space, mouth open and ready to strike.
Lan Huan can’t stop his eyes following the coils of the snake down, down – tail emerging from beneath the lotus flowers and plunging below the waistline of Sect Leader Jiang’s pants where they cling tightly to his-
He rips his eyes up, but the planes of Sect Leader Jiang’s back really aren’t any better, painted skin glistening in the dim lantern light as he moves.
(He knows the practice is more common in the south eastern territories, but he’d never dreamed that Sect Leader Jiang would have-)
Sect Leader Jiang steps closer to the railing, picks up a robe and slings it around himself. He loosely ties it, collects his lantern, and Lan Huan realises what’s about to happen just in time to hastily retreat back down the walkway he came from.
It’s day one of the conference, and he’s already making a fool of himself; better Sect Leader Jiang not come across him having stared at him so inappropriately in his state of undress-!
By some miracle, Lan Huan manages to find his way back to his assigned room. He slides the door closed, makes his way through his normal evening routine in a daze. He can’t stop thinking about Sect Leader Jiang, the way his arms had flexed on the walkway as he pulled himself out of the water; his chest, his back, the flawless lines of that tattoo striking against his skin-
Lan Huan doesn’t sleep very well that night.
The second day of the conference is interminable. If Lan Huan has to hear Sect Leader Yao complain for one more moment he’s going to scream. (He can’t stop looking at Sect Leader Jiang; impeccable as always in his purple robes, belted tight at the waist and wide sleeves fluttering at his sides. Can’t help but try and trace the lines of his body underneath, remembering the shift of muscle and painted lines-)
That evening finds Lan Huan again wandering the walkways of Lotus Pier, now for completely different reasons. He realises where his feet are carrying him halfway there, but can’t make himself stop walking. He wants-
(He doesn’t know if he’ll be so lucky again, but he wants-)
He spies the lantern first, set on the railing next to a draped robe. There’s no sound from the water, but the Yunmeng Jiang are known for their exceptional swimming abilities. He strains his eyes into the darkness, not willing to get closer, to betray his presence-
Faint movement in the water, not a whisper of sound. It’s too dark to really see, but Lan Huan keeps looking anyway, eyes tracking back and forth at the distant flashes of pale skin against the dark water.
Eventually Sect Leader Jiang swims back to the walkway, pulls himself out of the water.
It’s just as arresting a sight as it had been last night – Lan Huan can feel his face burning as he stares, but he can’t look away. Sect Leader Jiang is magnificent, and Lan Huan-
(Lan Huan wants to touch every inch of his skin, wants to catch every droplet with his tongue – wants to press his hands to where the fabric of his pants is wet and clinging, wants to-)
The skin disappears underneath Sect Leader Jiang’s robe, and he reaches for his lantern, and Lan Huan flees.
The third night that Sect Leader Jiang rises from the water, Lan Huan can’t stop thinking about Sect Leader Jiang pressing against him – what that endless expanse of skin would feel like against his own. Sect Leader Jiang leans down, wet fabric of his pants stretching across his ass, and Lan Huan swallows, throat completely dry.
He watches the tattoo ripple as the muscles in Sect Leader Jiang’s back shift, and nearly waits too long to retreat, heart pounding as he races as quietly as possible back down the walkway.
He’s still breathing hard when he reaches his room – he nearly got caught, if he gets caught then he won’t be able to see Sect Leader Jiang again, what was he thinking-
And then his thoughts spiral, because what if he got caught? Would Sect Leader Jiang be angry, or would he press him against the railing, and then Lan Huan is tearing at his clothing with shaking hands-
He closes one hand around his cock, strokes rough and quick, imagining Sect Leader Jiang pressing against him, Sect Leader Jiang’s hand on him-
He sinks to the floor, discarded clothing crumpled all around him, images of Sect Leader Jiang flashing behind his eyelids, and comes far too fast.
(He strangles all of his moans in his throat, uncertain about the thickness of the walls in Lotus Pier, so he’s absolutely sure he didn’t call out a name.)
On the fourth night-
(On the fourth night, everything changes.)
Lan Huan is loitering in his usual spot; Sect Leader Jiang’s discarded robe and lantern are where he normally leaves them. Now and then there’s a suggestion of movement out in the water, and Lan Huan is waiting patiently-
Something in the air changes, and then he hears water dripping. It sounds exactly like it normally does when Sect Leader Jiang pulls himself out of the water-
But there’s nothing in sight, and Lan Huan realises all at once that the noise is coming from-
“It’s you,” Sect Leader Jiang says, and his voice is low and rough, and also right behind him.
Lan Huan swallows, frozen.
Sect Leader Jiang is-
“Turn around,” Sect Leader Jiang says, and Lan Huan inhales, turning-
He chose this spot for a reason – there’s no lantern close by, a dark patch of shadows from which he could watch and not be seen. Sect Leader Jiang is close enough, though, that he’s more than a shadow – the dim light from his abandoned lantern reflects a dull glow off the dripping planes of his body, water spattering the boards around them with every movement.
Sect Leader Jiang’s eyes are dark. “When I realised I was being watched,” he says, “I never thought it would be Zewu-Jun watching me.”
Lan Huan’s mouth is open, but he can’t make any words come out.
“Nothing to say?” Sect Leader Jiang says, mouth twisting into a smirk. He takes a step forward, and Lan Huan retreats. His back hits the railing a second later, and this is far too much like his thoughts the previous evening for comfort-
“How long have you been watching?” Sect Leader Jiang asks. “Two days? Three days?”
Lan Huan can feel the blush spread across his cheeks. The tops of his ears are burning.
“Four days?” Sect Leader Jiang says. “Zewu-Jun-” (and his voice, curling around the syllables of his title, makes Lan Huan’s knees shake.) He leans in, only inches between their faces, voice dropping into a rough whisper. “Did you like what you saw?”
Lan Huan inhales sharply, eyes wide. He still can’t make himself speak, but Sect Leader Jiang seems to be satisfied with what he reads in his face, smirk curling wider. He leans forward even more, until his breath is shivering across Lan Huan’s lips.
“You did,” Sect Leader Jiang says.
Lan Huan can barely focus on his face, it’s so close to his own. He’s too close, and at the same time, he’s not nearly close enough.
Sect Leader Jiang abruptly leans back, straightening up. His eyes flick down and back up Lan Huan’s form briefly, from his flushed face to his trembling knees to his hands, fingers tangled tightly in the skirts of his robe.
“Zewu-Jun,” he says. “Would you like to see more?”
Lan Huan can’t breathe. He-
This is everything he’s wanted for the last four days, and now here Sect Leader Jiang is offering it to him. He needs to say something-
“Yes-” he forces out through the tightness in his throat. “Yes, I-”
Sect Leader Jiang is still smirking. “Wait here,” he says, and pads noiselessly down the walkway to collect his robe and lantern. Lan Huan can’t help but watch him the whole way, and sees the way Sect Leader Jiang’s eyes darken as he watches Lan Huan watch him.
“Follow,” he says as he passes, and Lan Huan is drawn along in his wake like so much flotsam.
He follows Sect Leader Jiang down the walkway, through a gate; down another walkway. They don’t see a single other soul, and then Sect Leader Jiang is sliding a door open, ushering Lan Huan inside. (He steps out of his shoes purely on reflex – his brain really isn’t thinking of courtesy right now. How could it, when he’s about to-)
The door slides closed behind him.
It’s a bedroom, he can see Sandu resting on a sword stand – this is Sect Leader Jiang’s bedroom, and if Lan Huan was in any doubt as to what he’s agreed to, this would surely dispel any remaining uncertainty.
Sect Leader Jiang sets the lantern to the side, lights more candles with a flicker of spiritual energy; tosses the robe casually to the floor.
“Zewu-Jun,” he says, circling around Lan Huan until he’s in front of him. (He’s still trailing droplets of water.) He reaches out, flicks a finger against Lan Huan’s chest. “You’re wearing too many layers.”
Sect Leader Jiang takes a step back, like he’s just going to stand there and watch, and Lan Huan’s hands are shaking as they reach for his sash. It’s only fair that he watches now, when Lan Huan has been watching him for days, but now he knows, and he can feel desire surge in his stomach as he watches Sect Leader Jiang’s dark eyes stare at him in turn.
His sash falls to the floor, and Lan Huan undoes the ties on his outer robes, holding Sect Leader Jiang’s gaze as he shrugs them both off his shoulders together. They slide down his arms in a flurry of silk, and then he’s standing there in his inner robe and trousers, trembling under dark eyes.
Sect Leader Jiang hums. “Zewu-Jun,” he says. “Keep going.”
Lan Huan’s hands are still shaking as he reaches for the ties on his inner robe. He wants-
(He wants Sect Leader Jiang to call him by his name, not his title – wants to hear his name on Sect Leader Jiang’s tongue.)
“Xichen,” he says. “Call me Xichen-”
His inner robe falls to the floor, and he shivers. Sect Leader Jiang is circling him again, and then a hand trails down his spine and he shivers again.
“Xichen,” Sect Leader Jiang says, low, from behind him. (It sounds just as good as Lan Huan had hoped.) “Are you cold?”
“N-no,” Lan Huan says, swallows. “It’s you.”
“Me?” Sect Leader Jiang says. The hand trails up, brushing aside his hair – circles the nape of his neck, trails back down. Lan Huan can feel his skin break into prickles. “Is it when I look at you? When I touch you?”
“It’s just you,” Lan Huan says weakly, staring blindly into the room, every sense he has trying to focus behind him. “I want-”
Sect Leader Jiang hums, and then- “What do you want, Xichen?” he whispers directly into Lan Huan’s ear-
Lan Huan feels a shudder roll through him. What does he want is a difficult question, because Lan Huan wants everything. He wants to touch, wants to taste – wants to lick every inch of that skin, trace the painted lines on his back with fingers and tongue, wants-
(He wants to know Sect Leader Jiang every way there is, wants to know what he looks like lost in pleasure; wants his cock in his mouth, in his ass – wants Sect Leader Jiang to just press him down and take him-)
“S-Sect Leader Jiang-”
“Wanyin-” Sect Leader Jiang whispers into his ear, and Lan Huan shudders again.
“Wanyin,” he says, and Jiang Wanyin rewards him by biting the shell of his ear, and Lan Huan can’t help the noise that bursts out of him.
He’s so hard it hurts.
“I want you,” he says, words tumbling out of him, because he’s suddenly desperate – as long as he gets to touch and be touched he doesn’t care what happens. “Any – any way, I don’t care, I just want-”
Jiang Wanyin’s hands land on his shoulders, nudging, and Lan Huan turns-
Jiang Wanyin is right there, and then he’s being kissed.
He’s instantly breathless – Jiang Wanyin’s mouth is fierce, commanding, tongue sliding into Lan Huan’s mouth almost immediately and taking over. One of Jiang Wanyin’s hands slides into his hair and tilts his head a little more and Jiang Wanyin’s teeth scrape over his tongue and Lan Huan moans, pressing forward-
Jiang Wanyin’s chest is still damp, solid and firm and so very warm against him. Jiang Wanyin’s other hand slides down Lan Huan’s back, slipping under his waistband to curl around the curve of his ass, and pulls them together, and Lan Huan moans again because his cock is pressed against a hard thigh, and he can feel what can only be Jiang Wanyin’s-
He slides his hands onto Jiang Wanyin’s back, and oh, he can feel the lines, hands skating over scales and petals, down, down-
(His fingers hit wet cloth and he keeps going, because Jiang Wanyin has his hand on Lan Huan’s ass and Lan Huan has been watching and wanting for days, and-)
And then Lan Huan has both hands on Jiang Wanyin’s ass, and there are still scales under one of his hands. (How far down does it go?). He curls his fingers in, grinds them together, and it feels-
Jiang Wanyin’s fingers curl tighter into his hair (little prickles of pain through his scalp that just go straight to his cock-) and then he breaks the kiss, pulling Lan Huan back as he tries to follow.
“Be patient,” he says, eyes nearly black with desire, lips red and slick. (Lan Huan can’t imagine he looks any better himself.) “I have something better for you to do with your mouth.”
Lan Huan’s mouth is already watering. He drops to his knees before Jiang Wanyin can say anything else, and hears Jiang Wanyin inhale above him.
His hands are already inside Jiang Wanyin’s waistband – he slides them to the front, loosens the knot, and pulls.
Jiang Wanyin has a narrow waist and powerful thighs, and normally Lan Huan’s fingers would be itching for ink and paper, to capture the image before him – but he has more pressing concerns, because when the pants came down Jiang Wanyin’s cock sprang free, and Lan Huan wants-
He puts one hand on Jiang Wanyin’s hip, curls the other around Jiang Wanyin’s cock and leans in-
On any other day, he might take his time, teasing licks or light touches – but here and now, with Jiang Wanyin’s heated gaze boring into him, Lan Huan has no patience for that. He opens his mouth and swallows down as much of Jiang Wanyin’s cock as he can. (Jiang Wanyin’s hand yanks in his hair when he does it, and Lan Huan feels his own cock twitch.)
It’s thick, heavy on his tongue. Jiang Wanyin is gasping above him, and Lan Huan hums, drawing back and curling his tongue around the head, and presses back down. He’s felt off-kilter this entire evening since Jiang Wanyin surprised him, but kneeling on the floor with Jiang Wanyin’s cock in his mouth he feels powerful.
Ironic, that he finds his feet only once he’s on his knees.
He relishes in the noises Jiang Wanyin is making, little gasps, bitten off moans. His hips are twitching against Lan Huan’s hand, like he wants to thrust but is holding himself back.
Lan Huan pulls back, swirls his tongue around Jiang Wanyin’s foreskin – licks in carefully, swirls his tongue inside his foreskin, and gets a hard buck of his hips and an actual moan for his troubles.
“Xichen,” Jiang Wanyin says, voice unsteady. When Lan Huan flicks his eyes up, Jiang Wanyin is looking down at him, eyes intense. “You’re-” his voice breaks off as Lan Huan sucks hard, swirls his tongue again. “I knew you’d be good at this, look at you, on your knees for me-”
Lan Huan slides his other hand from the base of Jiang Wanyin’s cock down to his balls, gently rolling them in his fingers, and listens to Jiang Wanyin moan. This is – he wants-
Lan Huan swirls his tongue one more time and then takes Jiang Wanyin’s cock deep, into the back of his throat. Jiang Wanyin makes a noise that is very nearly a shout, and Lan Huan can feel his cock twitch in his pants. He wants-
(He wants Jiang Wanyin to press him down and-)
He pulls his head back, inhales through his nose, sinks down again. Tugs Jiang Wanyin’s hip forward as he does so, and feels a shudder run through the body under his hands.
“Xichen,” Jiang Wanyin breathes, and then there’s a second hand on his head, fingers threading through his hair-
And then he gives Lan Huan what he wants.
Jiang Wanyin’s fingers tighten and pull, and he thrusts his hips forward, and then his cock is sliding into Lan Huan’s throat on every push, and he hollows his cheeks and flattens his tongue and holds on, because this is-
Every yank on his hair, every noise that Jiang Wanyin makes, drives his own desire higher, and he moans around Jiang Wanyin’s cock, swallowing every time it drives into his throat, letting the other man take him-
“Ah, Xichen-” Jiang Wanyin groans, thrusts coming shorter, body trembling in Lan Huan’s hands, and then he drives in deep, grinding against Lan Huan’s face-
Lan Huan swallows and swallows, not wasting a single drop of the hot rushes of his release, feeling his own cock throb in his pants – he did that, made Jiang Wanyin come, he-
Jiang Wanyin is breathing heavily above him, knees wobbling, and Lan Huan allows his softening cock to slip from his mouth.
“Wanyin,” he rasps, and oh, his voice is absolutely wrecked, low and hoarse.
Jiang Wanyin inhales at the sound, and then he takes a step back and drops to his knees on the spot. He catches a few strands of Lan Huan’s hair as he yanks his hands away from his head, but it only makes Lan Huan’s blood hotter because those hands go straight to the fastening of his pants, loosening the ties and shoving them down just enough to allow Lan Huan’s cock to spring free, precome beading from the tip.
“Wanyin-” Lan Huan rasps again, and Jiang Wanyin glances up, meets his gaze – and if Lan Huan had thought he was intent before, when he’d backed him up against the railing, or when he’d been circling him like prey, it’s nothing on the heat in his gaze now.
He can feel his breath catch in his chest, and then Jiang Wanyin almost tackles him backwards into the floor.
His mouth is claimed, conquered; Jiang Wanyin doing his best to lick the taste of himself out of Lan Huan’s mouth. Jiang Wanyin’s body is hot and heavy against him, pressing him down into the crumpled mess of his own discarded robes.
His cock is throbbing against Jiang Wanyin’s abdomen.
Jiang Wanyin tears himself away, gasping, and slithers down. He pushes himself up just enough to yank down Lan Huan’s pants further, shouldering his way between Lan Huan’s knees, and then he leans in and Lan Huan can’t breathe-
Jiang Wanyin’s mouth engulfs him, hot and absolutely devastating. He’s as merciless in this as he has been for their entire encounter so far, sucking hard and taking Lan Huan deep. His hands drop lower, one of them taking his balls in a firm grip (Lan Huan gasps, hips jerking), and the other sliding lower still, pressing in behind.
Lan Huan can’t help the hoarse moans that spill from his throat, hands clenched in his discarded robes. The whole time Jiang Wanyin was using his mouth, his desire had been building, kindling stacked and ready – and now Jiang Wanyin has come and set him ablaze.
Jiang Wanyin takes him deeper still, and his one hand squeezes and the other slides lower and presses, dry, at Lan Huan’s hole and that’s it – he’s gone. There’s no time for a warning, just a strangled cry that rips out of him, back arching and thighs trembling against Jiang Wanyin’s head as he shudders with his release.
He can feel Jiang Wanyin’s throat flex against his cock as he swallows every drop.
For long moments, it’s all Lan Huan can do to breathe, body trembling as aftershocks tingle their way through his limbs. Jiang Wanyin is still kneeling between his thighs, and then he crawls his way back up Lan Huan’s body, settling neatly against him. Jiang Wanyin is heavy, but not unpleasantly so, and then Lan Huan is being kissed again, Jiang Wanyin’s mouth moving slowly against Lan Huan’s barely responsive lips.
“Xichen,” Jiang Wanyin murmurs, and oh, his voice is rougher than normal, too, and that’s-
(It isn’t nearly enough time since his release for Lan Huan to be able to get hard again, but he wants-)
“Wanyin,” Lan Huan rasps in response, blinks open his eyes-
Jiang Wanyin is looking down at him and the intensity has softened, a little – there’s something else now in his eyes, something-
(Soft? Fond? Lan Huan doesn’t dare to hope.)
“I’m not nearly finished with you yet,” Jiang Wanyin says, and then whatever Lan Huan thinks he saw in his eyes is gone in a blink – that focus is back, and Lan Huan shivers.
Jiang Wanyin’s mouth curves into that smirk. “Ah, Xichen,” he says. “You said you wanted me-” he leans close, eyes narrowing- “and I intend to have you.”
Lan Huan shivers again, and Jiang Wanyin leans back, pushes himself up to his feet. (Lan Huan tries not to feel the loss of his warmth, his weight. Jiang Wanyin has promised to have him – he won’t be missing it for long.)
“Come,” he says, and holds out a hand.
Lan Huan levers himself up enough to grasp Jiang Wanyin’s hand, and lets himself be pulled to his feet. His legs are a little shaky, but he’s steady enough as Jiang Wanyin draws him deeper into the room, around a screen-
Pushes him toward the bed.
Lan Huan goes, pushing the blankets to the side and leaning back against the pillows. He stretches out, displaying the long lines of his body – he knows others consider him attractive, but before tonight he’s never seen the slightest sign from Jiang Wanyin that he might number among them.
Here, in Jiang Wanyin’s bedroom, stretched out on Jiang Wanyin’s bed, Lan Huan watches Jiang Wanyin’s heated gaze skip from his throat to his chest to his cock, interest unmistakable, and wonders whether he had just missed any sign or whether Jiang Wanyin had simply not allowed anything to show.
Jiang Wanyin stalks toward him, and Lan Huan doesn’t so much set aside his thoughts as they are wiped clean from his head, as Jiang Wanyin sets one knee on the bed beside his hip and swings himself over to straddle him. He reaches up behind his head, muscles in his torso shifting, and then a ribbon flutters to the floor and Lan Huan can feel his breath catch-
Jiang Wanyin’s hair tumbles free of its bun, spilling over his shoulders in damp waves.
He’s stunning, and Lan Huan is so, so lucky that he’s here; that a chance of fate four days ago saw him lose his way and stumble across Jiang Wanyin at all.
“You’re beautiful,” Lan Huan says, because he can, because he’s in Jiang Wanyin’s bed and Jiang Wanyin wants him there – and watches Jiang Wanyin’s face curve into a smirk.
“I know,” Jiang Wanyin says in return, and his smirk sharpens. “You were watching me.”
Lan Huan can feel himself blush on reflex, and Jiang Wanyin shifts above him, leaning forward – and then they’re pressed together from chest to hip, Jiang Wanyin’s hands framing his face, and he’s being kissed.
Lan Huan presses into it, arms winding their way up onto Jiang Wanyin’s back. It’s overpowering, again, Jiang Wanyin’s body hot against his as he effortlessly takes control. (Lan Huan presses his fingers into the raised echoes of painted lines, and holds on.)
Lan Huan doesn’t know how long it’s been when Jiang Wanyin pulls back, breathing hard; he’s been lost in the sensation of Jiang Wanyin’s tongue in his mouth, Jiang Wanyin’s body pressing him into the mattress – a slow, gentle grind that has him half hard already. There’s nothing here but them – no ghosts from the past, no burdens of leadership, no four thousand and some sect rules – just Jiang Wanyin, and Lan Huan, and whatever it is they’re building between them.
Lan Huan reaches up, yanks at his forehead ribbon until it comes loose, tosses it over the side of the bed – he doesn’t want the reminder, doesn’t want to hold himself back – wants the freedom to be himself.
“Wanyin,” he says, and Jiang Wanyin’s eyes snap back to him from where they’d followed his ribbon to the floor. “I want you,” he says, and watches Jiang Wanyin’s eyes darken, “and you promised to have me.”
Jiang Wanyin’s mouth curls up into that smirk. “Impatience suits you,” he says, and slides down.
Lan Huan pulls his legs in, bending his knees, and then Jiang Wanyin is there, kneeling between his thighs, gaze sliding past Lan Huan’s cock and further down. He should be embarrassed, lying with another man between his legs, looking at his most intimate parts – but there’s nothing shameful about this intimacy, this pleasure, not with his forehead ribbon on the floor and Jiang Wanyin’s hands curving hot against his ass.
“I want you,” Lan Huan says again, and he’s expecting oil, the brisk and routine preparations he’s experienced before, but instead Jiang Wanyin lifts him-
He slides bodily down the bed, his lower body hoisted onto Jiang Wanyin’s lap, one of his legs pulled up over his shoulder, and then Jiang Wanyin presses him apart and licks a stripe over his hole, and Lan Huan moans.
Jiang Wanyin laves his tongue over his hole, every now and then pressing against him, and Lan Huan tries to breathe, clutching at the mattress, at Jiang Wanyin’s knees, whatever he can reach – because this feels-
Jiang Wanyin sharpens his tongue, presses, presses, and slides inside-
Lan Huan can feel his cock hardening fast, sensation shivering through him. Jiang Wanyin licks into him with the same confidence he’d had in their kisses, pulling back to circle against his rim before sliding back inside, flattening his tongue out to press against his walls.
Then there’s a finger, sliding in next to the tongue, and Lan Huan can feel his own precome dripping onto his stomach, cock aching-
(Everything feels so much, and time gets a little blurred-)
Two fingers has him gasping on every push, Jiang Wanyin’s tongue still circling and pressing between them – three has him moaning.
He’s leaking steadily now, his own torso glistening with fluid, but Jiang Wanyin is relentless, working him open with fingers and tongue, pressing and stretching-
“Wanyin-” Lan Huan groans eventually, because he’s sure he’s ready, and he can’t take much more of this – wants Jiang Wanyin’s cock in him-
Jiang Wanyin lifts his head, mouth and chin shiny with spit. “What did I say about impatience,” he says, driving his fingers deep, and Lan Huan shudders, gasps for breath.
“That it suited me,” he says, “and right now I need you to take me-”
Jiang Wanyin pulls his fingers free, and then there’s the sound of a stopper coming out of a jar, and more slick is dribbled against his ass, fingers rubbing it into his skin, against his rim.
Jiang Wanyin shifts against him, lowering Lan Huan a little, and then-
And then what can only be Jiang Wanyin’s cock is pressing against him, and it had been thick on his tongue and it feels even thicker here, and Lan Huan breathes and breathes and Jiang Wanyin pushes and-
Lan Huan groans as he slides in, smooth and slow and deep, bottoming out in one long stroke. It’s been – it’s been a long time since he’s done this, and he doesn’t remember it feeling like this – doesn’t remember it feeling so good.
Jiang Wanyin firms his grip on Lan Huan’s hips, easing out until the head of his cock catches on Lan Huan’s rim, and then thrusts back in. With his one leg hiked up over Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder, and his other bent outwards, he doesn’t have any leverage, can’t really move. Can only gasp for breath as Jiang Wanyin sets a steady rhythm – not too fast, not yet; but strokes long and deep.
It feels incredible, Jiang Wanyin’s cock everything he’s wanted for days, Jiang Wanyin holding him in place and just taking him-
Jiang Wanyin’s fingers dig into his hips as he lifts Lan Huan higher, shifting a little to change his angle, and then his next thrust slams into something that sends lightning sparking through his body, and Lan Huan can’t help the noise that tears out of his throat, because that-
(It’s definitely never felt like that before, and he has a moment’s regret for all his previous encounters before Jiang Wanyin’s next thrust forces every single thought straight out of his head-)
“Wanyin-” Lan Huan gasps, cries out again as Jiang Wanyin thrusts in with unerring accuracy and slams right into that spot again.
“Does it feel good?” Jiang Wanyin says, and then he speeds up, fingers pressing bruises into Lan Huan’s hips as he holds him steady. “Is this what you wanted?”
He leans closer to Lan Huan, somehow without disrupting his rhythm. His hair spills over his shoulder to tickle across Lan Huan’s chest.“Is this what you imagined, when you touched yourself and thought of me?”
Lan Huan’s eyes go wide, and his whole body shudders, because how does Jiang Wanyin know?
“How-” he manages between moans, gasping for air, because Jiang Wanyin is still slamming into him, tension and desire surging through his body with every thrust and he can barely think at all-
Jiang Wanyin smirks, shifts Lan Huan’s hips and leans even closer, and somehow his next thrust goes even deeper, and Lan Huan can feel Jiang Wanyin’s cock in his throat.
“It was all over your face,” Jiang Wanyin says, and he’s close enough now that Lan Huan can untangle his hands from the sheets, grab onto Jiang Wanyin’s back and dig his fingers into the scales painted between his shoulder blades. He needs something to anchor him – he’s bent almost in half, his knee still over Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder very nearly touching his own chest, and he has nothing to brace against, Jiang Wanyin’s hands on his hips the only thing holding him steady.
He clutches at the scales, digs his fingernails in. “When I thought of you-” he gasps between thrusts, “you were faster-”
“Was I,” Jiang Wanyin almost purrs, and Lan Huan has a moment to wonder if he should regret goading him, and then-
Jiang Wanyin slams into him, not just faster but harder, too, and Lan Huan stops being able to have coherent thoughts, because he’s hitting that spot on every stroke and-
Lan Huan can hear himself crying out, clutches at Jiang Wanyin’s back – can feel that tension surging higher, higher-
He can’t hold on, it’s too much, he-
The wave breaks over him, and he’s swept away, that tension releasing in a dizzying rush of lighting that shudders through him, cock pulsing as hot liquid stripes across his own chest. His head jerks back, limbs trembling, muscles clenching down against Jiang Wanyin’s cock, still grinding into him on every thrust; from somewhere far away he hears his voice crack in the middle of a cry, trail off into ragged gasps.
Jiang Wanyin doesn’t slow his thrusts, driving hard and deep into Lan Huan’s body, still shaking with aftershocks, and it still feels good, even though he’s already come. He blinks open his eyes, meets Jiang Wanyin’s intent gaze-
Wants him to claim him, inside and out.
“Take me,” Lan Huan says, and his voice is even worse now than before, hoarse and rasping. “Claim me, make me yours-”
Jiang Wanyin groans, hips snapping into Lan Huan’s body on the next stroke, and Lan Huan moans, sensation still shivering through him. “Mark me, come in me-”
“Your mouth,” Jiang Wanyin gasps, thrusts getting shorter, only pulling out partway before grinding back deep, and Lan Huan digs his nails into painted scales and rakes them across Jiang Wanyin’s back, feels him shudder.
“You love my mouth,” Lan Huan says, gasps as Jiang Wanyin thrusts, “I want to lick every scale on your back, follow it all the way down-”
Jiang Wanyin groans again, hips stuttering, and then he shudders again, harder than before, and Lan Huan can feel him come, every jagged thrust loosing a hot rush of liquid deep inside-
(He’d wanted to know what Jiang Wanyin looked like lost in pleasure, but he should have known the answer already – even with his eyes squeezed tight, mouth open and gasping – he’s beautiful.)
Jiang Wanyin grinds deep into him one final time and stills, head dropping down, chest heaving as he catches his breath.
Lan Huan starts to stroke gently across his back – he’s sure he’s made marks, but he can’t tell between the raised lines of scales – and then Jiang Wanyin is shifting back, straightening up and unhooking Lan Huan’s leg from his shoulder-
Lan Huan gasps when he unsheathes himself a moment later with a slick noise, and then Lan Huan’s hips hit the mattress and Jiang Wanyin is prowling forward over him and-
Once again, he’s being kissed.
Jiang Wanyin’s weight presses him against the mattress, uncaring of the wet mess of fluids smearing across their bodies; Jiang Wanyin’s mouth hard against his, biting at his lips, sucking on his tongue-
Lan Huan likes the way Jiang Wanyin kisses – the way it feels like he has all of Jiang Wanyin’s attention, every part of him focused on Lan Huan alone; the way it can drive every other thought out of Lan Huan’s head, make him present and able to do nothing but feel.
(It would be a lie to say that he didn’t also like the way it overpowers him – the way Jiang Wanyin just takes control, like it’s his by right – the way Lan Huan can concede against him without it turning into a battle.)
The kisses gentle, Jiang Wanyin lifting his head to meet Lan Huan’s gaze. That softness is back in his face, the tiniest hint of vulnerability hidden deep in his eyes.
“Are you?” Jiang Wanyin asks.
“Am I-” Lan Huan echoes, confused for a moment – and then he remembers his own voice, low and rasping claim me, make me yours, and flushes.
When he’d said it, he’d wanted it, desperately – wanted Jiang Wanyin to claim him, wanted him to make him his. But now that the rush has passed, now that no-one’s cock is in anyone else’s ass – does he still want that?
Jiang Wanyin is beautiful, but he’s also angry, proud – remote. Respected, to be sure, but also feared, in equal or perhaps greater measure.
And that same man had invited Lan Huan to share this intimacy with him, not because of politics, or favour – but simply because he wanted. Had seen Lan Huan, seen right through him down to his core, and then given him exactly what he’d spent days wanting.
Lan Huan himself wears his smile like a mask – he knows very well that who he is in polite company isn’t the full sum of himself, and the same must surely be true of Jiang Wanyin. There’s more to him than the reputation of Sandu Shengshou (the events at Guanyin temple, that day, speak to that, too) – and it’s possible that Lan Huan, tonight, has perhaps the truest accounting of him yet.
And this man – this man with his confidence and smirks and his hidden softness, this man who’d let Lan Huan take him apart with his mouth, this man who’d been so careful with Lan Huan (at least, until Lan Huan had told him not to be) – this man, he’d like to get to know.
The real Jiang Wanyin, the one behind the masks.
“Not yet,” Lan Huan says, and this is a much longer conversation, but he can distil it down to its essence, for the man still pressed against him. “But I could be. I-”
He cuts his eyes away, swallows. Jiang Wanyin had made himself vulnerable in asking, and Lan Huan is determined to be honest in return. He looks back at Jiang Wanyin, wills him to read the truth in his voice when he says: “I’d like to be.”
Jiang Wanyin sucks in a breath, and then the corner of his mouth turns up, but not into a smirk – this time, it’s a smile. (It’s still breathtaking, but in a completely different way.)
“Good,” he says, “we’re in agreement, then,” and then he blinks, and in a fraction of a second the vulnerability is gone, his smile curving up into a smirk.
“Now,” Jiang Wanyin continues, “I believe you said something about licking every scale on my back-” and Lan Huan can feel his cock twitch where it’s pressed against Jiang Wanyin’s abdomen.
“I did say that,” Lan Huan says, and pushes gently at Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder, nudges his hip with his knee. Jiang Wanyin allows the gentle roll, and then his shoulders hit the bed, Lan Huan hovering on hands and knees above him. “I intend to keep my word,” he says, and then leans in close, lowering his voice. “Turn over.”
He watches Jiang Wanyin’s eyes darken, and then he twists gracefully onto his stomach, arms coming up to fold comfortably under his head.
Lan Huan gently sweeps his hair off his shoulders – it’s the first time he’s really seen the tattoo properly, and it’s even more magnificent up close. If it wasn’t for the fact that the lines are raised, it would look just like it was painted on with brushes, rather than with a needle.
(There are fading red marks scratched into Jiang Wanyin’s skin, too, and Lan Huan’s mouth curls in satisfaction to see them – his marks, on Jiang Wanyin’s body.)
He touches the head of the snake, over Jiang Wanyin’s left shoulder blade; traces the raised lines up and around, following the loops and coils of scales until the snake disappears behind the lotus petals.
Keeps tracing down, to where the coils reappear, low on his back, and watches as his fingers creep lower, lower-
He can see the body of the snake vanish into the crack of Jiang Wanyin’s ass, final flick of its tail curling back out onto his left cheek, and he needs to know-
He curves the fingers of his free hand around the swell of Jiang Wanyin’s ass, pulling him open, and traces the scales down.
They do go all the way, narrowing body of the snake painted right over Jiang Wanyin’s hole before curling back out around the muscle of his ass. His fingers brush over him as they pass, and Jiang Wanyin shivers.
Lan Huan smiles, finishes tracing the final loop of tail. “This is truly exquisite work,” Lan Huan says, and takes his hands off Jiang Wanyin’s skin entirely with a final caress. “Is it part of the Yunmeng Jiang tradition?”
“No,” Jiang Wanyin says, shifting a little; he turns his head, and Lan Huan can just see the glittering edge of one eye. “I had it done in Meishan.”
There’s some tension now, running through his body – and Lan Huan has to wonder whether others have seen the tattoo before – and perhaps were more disapproving. Well, Jiang Wanyin will get no such censure from him.
“The artisan must be truly skilled,” Lan Huan says, nothing but warmth in his tone. “The painting of the design is flawless, and you carry it so beautifully.”
Jiang Wanyin doesn’t reply, but he does close his eyes, and Lan Huan braces one hand on the mattress and leans forward, towards the head of the snake – and sets to work fulfilling his promise.
By the time he’s finished, the only tension Jiang Wanyin will be feeling will be because of Lan Huan.
He licks carefully across the open jaw of the snake, along its forked tongue. The raised lines feel different under his tongue, skin slightly rougher along the ridges than elsewhere. He traces up along the curve, covering every scale with his tongue, little kisses and nips at Jiang Wanyin’s skin here and there.
Every time he bites, Jiang Wanyin’s breath comes a little sharper, and so he does it again, and again, painting the scales in red marks of his own as he works his way around the coils.
By the time he reaches the lotus petals, Jiang Wanyin’s breathing is noticeably unsteady.
He flattens his tongue, drags it over the flowers, until petals turn to scales again – and continues down.
He shuffles his knees further down the bed as he bites into the dip of Jiang Wanyin’s spine, inches from his goal – sets his hands on Jiang Wanyin’s hips and slides them in, curving them around his ass and pressing him apart.
Jiang Wanyin’s breath catches, another shiver running through him, and Lan Huan slides his tongue down and licks right over his hole.
Jiang Wanyin shudders, and Lan Huan smiles into his skin, presses a sucking kiss onto the rim (Jiang Wanyin gasps) and follows the final inches of tail back up the side of his ass.
He wants to-
(He wants to make Jiang Wanyin feel like Lan Huan had, when Jiang Wanyin had put his tongue in Lan Huan’s-)
He gives the pointed tip of the tail one last bite, takes a breath, and leans in.
He starts slow – soft, flat licks over his hole that make Jiang Wanyin shiver; circles around his rim that make him twitch. Any hint of teeth, or any kind of suction, gets him a shudder, and Lan Huan alternates soft and hard until Jiang Wanyin snaps.
“Xichen,” he says, and Lan Huan looks up, catches the edge of Jiang Wanyin’s eye staring back over his own shoulder. “If you don’t put your tongue in me in the next five seconds, I won’t let you fuck me,” he says. “One. Two-”
Lan Huan inhales sharply, blood rushing straight to his cock, and hurriedly bends to obey.
On three, he presses his tongue against Jiang Wanyin’s hole, circling and circling on the inside of the rim – on four he narrows his tongue, stabs forward-
(He hadn’t even realised that fucking Jiang Wanyin was an option that was available to him, but now that Jiang Wanyin has spoken it to life he’s desperate to know what it feels like to sink into Jiang Wanyin’s heat, to have Jiang Wanyin’s body open up around his cock-)
Jiang Wanyin doesn’t get to five, because Lan Huan’s tongue slides in, and Jiang Wanyin gasps instead. This is-
(It feels very much like how he’d felt on his knees, Jiang Wanyin’s cock in his mouth – powerful, assured. It feels heady, and Lan Huan doesn’t drink alcohol but he thinks this might be what it feels like to someone without the blood of the Lan, that feeling that he could do anything, if Jiang Wanyin wanted him to.)
He pulls his tongue back, thrusts it in again. Tries to remember the kinds of motions Jiang Wanyin had used on him; licks against him, mouthing at his rim.
There’s a fine tremor running through Jiang Wanyin’s limbs, now, but Lan Huan wants to make him shake – wants to press his fingers in beside his tongue, wants to-
He pulls back, lifts his head. “Where’s the oil?”
Jiang Wanyin takes a moment to respond, voice strained. “Side of the bed.”
Lan Huan takes a hand off Jiang Wanyin’s ass, leans over, and pats blindly across the floor – grabs the jar and brings it up onto the mattress with him. It’s the work of moments to coat his fingers, and then he leans back down and licks straight into Jiang Wanyin’s hole again.
Jiang Wanyin gasps – and Lan Huan smiles against his skin and slides in a finger, feels him shudder.
He takes his time, wants to make him feel good. When the shudders ease, he slides in a second finger, pressing and stretching, still licking around his rim and in between – and Jiang Wanyin’s breathing starts hitching, body shaking every time his fingers press in.
(Lan Huan’s cock is aching, but that’s okay, because soon enough he’s going to find out what it’s like to sheath himself in Jiang Wanyin’s body, and for that, he can be patient.)
When he seems like he’s becoming accustomed to that, Lan Huan slides in a third, and listens to him moan. There’s barely enough room now for his tongue, most of his hand in the way, but he tries to keep licking, because it had felt really good when Jiang Wanyin had done this to him, and Jiang Wanyin is shaking, body twitching on the bed-
“Xichen,” Jiang Wanyin gasps, and Lan Huan presses his fingers in just to hear him gasp again, looking up to catch the edge of his eye. “That’s enough,” he says. “You should lie down.”
Lan Huan stills for a moment – he should lie down? Isn’t he going to-
Jiang Wanyin snorts. “Take your fingers out,” he says, and Lan Huan hurriedly withdraws; Jiang Wanyin twists over underneath him. His face and chest are flushed and his cock is hard and leaking, but Lan Huan can’t look away from his eyes, gaze hot and wanting.
Jiang Wanyin sits up, takes hold of Lan Huan by the shoulders, and pulls; Lan Huan lets himself be moved, because Jiang Wanyin clearly knows what he wants – and letting Jiang Wanyin take charge has, if he’s honest, served Lan Huan very well so far tonight.
He hits the bed on his back, and then Jiang Wanyin twists again, throwing a knee over his hip – and settles down right over Lan Huan’s cock-
“Oh-” Lan Huan gasps, as Jiang Wanyin grinds down against him, and everything suddenly makes sense.
“Figured it out?” Jiang Wanyin says, smirking, and pats around behind him on the bed, coming back with the jar of oil.
He coats his hand, reaches behind himself, and there are a few slick sounds – comes back after a moment, coats his hand again, and wraps it around Lan Huan’s cock.
Lan Huan’s hips twitch on reflex as Jiang Wanyin’s hand slides up and over his cock, spreading the oil – he’s hard and aching, and he wants-
And then Jiang Wanyin seals the jar, sets it aside; shifts forward, resettles his knees on the mattress-
Positions himself above Lan Huan’s cock-
Lan Huan can barely breathe as Jiang Wanyin starts to sink himself down. The head of his cock presses against Jiang Wanyin’s hole, and then all at once slides inside, and he gasps but Jiang Wanyin is still moving-
Lan Huan can feel every inch of pressure as he slides deep, Jiang Wanyin only stopping when his ass hits Lan Huan’s hips. It’s-
It’s overwhelming – his cock is in Jiang Wanyin’s ass, and it feels-
It’s heat and pressure and nobody’s even started moving – Lan Huan can’t imagine how it could feel any better than this, but he suspects he’s going to find out.
(He can barely believe that Jiang Wanyin is allowing him to-)
Jiang Wanyin’s breathing is unsteady, and his eyes are half lidded, and that smirk is still on his face.
“Bend your knees,” Jiang Wanyin says, and Lan Huan pulls his feet in; it changes the angle of his hips, and he slides in another fraction, and Jiang Wanyin sucks in a breath.
And then he lifts himself, powerful thighs flexing, until Lan Huan’s cock is only catching on the rim of his hole, and presses back down, and Lan Huan is-
He slides his hands onto Jiang Wanyin’s legs, because if he doesn’t hold onto something he’s going to fly apart-
Jiang Wanyin is twisting up and back in a sinuous rhythm, body flexing with every slow slide. It feels incredible, every time he lowers himself and Lan Huan feels his cock push into Jiang Wanyin’s tight heat; every time he feels Jiang Wanyin’s body squeeze around him-
Jiang Wanyin starts to move faster, muscles shifting under Lan Huan’s hands; leans forward a little to change his angle, presses back, and gasps, and his whole body tightens around Lan Huan’s cock, and Lan Huan’s hips jerk up, and Jiang Wanyin moans-
Lan Huan tightens his fingers, presses his feet against the bed, and does it again, and again – he wants to hear more of those moans, wants Jiang Wanyin to fall apart around him, wants-
Jiang Wanyin shudders above him, tipping forward, and catches himself with both hands on Lan Huan’s chest. His hair spills over his shoulders.
“Xichen-” he gasps, slams himself backwards to meet Lan Huan’s next thrust. His whole body clenches around Lan Huan’s cock, and Lan Huan groans, fingers tightening on Jiang Wanyin’s legs.
“Wanyin,” Lan Huan says, because the sight of Jiang Wanyin in pleasure above him and the feel of Jiang Wanyin’s body around him is slowly making him lose his mind. “You feel so good, is it-” he gasps as he meets another thrust- “it is good? Do you like it?”
Jiang Wanyin moans on the next thrust. “Harder-”
Lan Huan pulls his heels in, slides his hands up to Jiang Wanyin’s hips, and shoves up, yanking Jiang Wanyin onto his cock at the same time, and Jiang Wanyin’s voice cracks.
His fingers scrabble across Lan Huan’s chest for a moment, and then he tears one hand away, the other going to his cock, red and hard and dripping.
Lan Huan keeps his rhythm going, his own thighs starting to burn as he strains upwards, thrusting into Jiang Wanyin’s heat, trying to maintain the right angle-
(Hearing Jiang Wanyin cry out every time he gets it right makes his blood burn hotter.)
Jiang Wanyin is trembling above him now, chest heaving as he gasps for air, hand working fast over his cock. The sight of him so lost in pleasure sends Lan Huan’s own desire surging, but he’s determined that this time he will bring Jiang Wanyin his release first before seeking his own.
Lan Huan sets his feet, tightens his fingers on Jiang Wanyin’s hips, and thrusts.
“Come for me,” he gasps, watches Jiang Wanyin’s movements start to stutter, pulls him down harder. “Come on me, Wanyin, mark me, I want you to-”
Jiang Wanyin slams himself back onto Lan Huan’s next thrust, and Lan Huan meets him strength to strength. They surge together once, twice-
And then Jiang Wanyin is moaning, cock spurting in his hand, his release running over his fingers and across Lan Huan’s stomach-
Lan Huan keeps thrusting into him, listening to the way Jiang Wanyin’s voice breaks as he gets the angle just right, another gush of fluid spattering across his stomach – trying to hold on as Jiang Wanyin’s entire body convulses around his cock, the pressure and heat nearly tipping him over the edge-
He manages another thrust, and another, and Jiang Wanyin’s hand on his cock slows, and his supporting arm wobbles, and Lan Huan is covered in his release, marked and claimed, and he-
He surges up, hips twitching, grinding into Jiang Wanyin’s body, and-
Jiang Wanyin clenches around him-
The edge rushes toward him, and Lan Huan falls.
He thinks he cries out; his hips jerk into stuttered thrusts, short grinds deep into Jiang Wanyin’s ass as his release shudders through him. His whole body tenses, hands clamping down on Jiang Wanyin’s hips as his back arches, head tipping back as his whole body shakes and shakes-
He’s gasping as his hips drop back to the bed, spent and empty. Jiang Wanyin is still balanced on top of him, and then he straightens his elbow, lifts himself off Lan Huan’s cock, and collapses onto Lan Huan’s chest.
Jiang Wanyin is still for only a moment. He mouths over Lan Huan’s neck, nips at the knot of his throat, the side of his jaw, and Lan Huan starts to lower his chin to kiss him, and can’t move.
“Ah, Wanyin-” he says, tries to move again and gets pulled back with a yank. “I’m – I think my hair is-”
Jiang Wanyin heaves himself up with a grumble, peering over the top of Lan Huan’s head, and then he snorts, mouth curving up into that smirk Lan Huan is beginning to love.
“Your hair piece,” Jiang Wanyin says, “is jammed into the mattress-” and then he laughs.
Lan Huan can feel his own lips curl up in a smile, even as he stares at Jiang Wanyin’s laughing face, stunned all over again at how beautiful he is. He thinks this might be the first time in a very long time that he’s seen Jiang Wanyin laugh.
Jiang Wanyin puts his hand under Lan Huan’s head, presumably to start prying the hair piece free of the mattress. “Have you considered wearing something with less spikes?” he says conversationally, and Lan Huan flushes.
“I like this one,” he says.
Jiang Wanyin clicks his tongue. “Well, next time, take it off first,” he says, and then he yanks and Lan Huan’s head slides back onto the bed, and-
Jiang Wanyin had said next time.
Lan Huan knows he’s staring, knows that their conversation earlier, when he’d said he could be Jiang Wanyin’s, had been tacit agreement to continue this – whatever this is between them. But to go from that to hearing Jiang Wanyin say next time like it was nothing, like Lan Huan can have this again, if he wants, like maybe he-
(Like maybe he doesn’t have to feel so alone-)
“Xichen,” Jiang Wanyin says, and Lan Huan blinks – Jiang Wanyin is still hovering above him, mouth curled up, a softer version of that smirk on his lips. “Be here,” Jiang Wanyin says, and dips down to kiss him.
(That’s an instruction that Lan Huan can definitely obey, because when Jiang Wanyin kisses him, it’s impossible for him to be anywhere else.)
Jiang Wanyin licks into his mouth, body loose and relaxed against his, hands sliding in to cradle his face. The kiss is gentler than last time but it carries Jiang Wanyin’s singular focus all the same, and it’s just as effective at wiping Lan Huan’s mind clean of other thoughts. He relaxes into it, winds his arms up around Jiang Wanyin’s neck and kisses back – curls his tongue against Jiang Wanyin’s and hums in contentment.
He’s tired, and sore, and filthy; they’re both in desperate need of a bath, sweat and other fluids smeared between them.
But here in Jiang Wanyin’s bed, kissing and being kissed, a whisper of an agreement between them-
There’s nowhere else Lan Huan would rather be.
The fifth night Sect Leader Jiang rises from the water, Lan Huan is leaning on the railing next to the lantern. He hides the robe behind his back as a smirking Jiang Wanyin presses him into the rails; lake water instantly soaks through his robes, and he licks at Jiang Wanyin’s throat like he’d wanted to from the very beginning, catching droplets with his tongue.
Jiang Wanyin captures his head with gentle hands, tilting his face up, and devours his mouth, hips starting a slow grind against him that has Lan Huan gasping-
(They barely make it to Jiang Wanyin’s bedroom before he’s shoving Lan Huan down, and he goes without a single whisper of complaint.)
The final day of the conference, Sect Leader Jiang is dressed in his most formal robes. Lan Huan doesn’t have to imagine what lies under the rich silks; he’s intimately familiar, now, with the curves and planes of Jiang Wanyin’s body, has – more than once – licked every inch of the painted lines that adorn his back.
“Sect Leader Lan,” Jiang Wanyin says, sometime in the afternoon, and Lan Huan blinks to attention, smiles politely.
“Sect Leader Jiang?”
“It’s my understanding that the harvest trade agreements between Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan will soon need to be renewed,” Jiang Wanyin says. “If the Cloud Recesses can spare you, it would be helpful for you to stay another week, to discuss the details further.”
Lan Huan knows full well that the trade agreements Jiang Wanyin is talking about need very little arranging; he expects it would take no more than a day for the necessary discussion.
“Of course,” he says. “I will send word back with my disciples.”
“Yunmeng Jiang appreciates your kindness,” Jiang Wanyin says, and continues smoothly on to other matters.
They finalise the harvest trade agreements the next day; Lan Huan spends the entire discussion slowly taking his elaborate hair piece out, one pin at a time, and watches Jiang Wanyin’s eyes get darker and darker.
“I think we’re in agreement then,” Lan Huan says, three hours in, and pulls the last pin out of his hair; his top knot comes free, and hair cascades down his back, falls loose around his face.
Jiang Wanyin clears the table with a sweep of his arm, papers fluttering to the floor, and Lan Huan smiles.