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Jingyi's Kama Sutra

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“Hey, kid.”

Jingyi can tell something’s up, just from those two words. Jiang Cheng’s sitting at the edge of Jingyi’s bed, looking nervous. Like when they first got together nervous. Like when they decided to tell Jin Ling about them nervous. It makes Jingyi’s stomach clench, a horrible sick feeling growing there.

Because that nervous look can only mean one thing.

“Please don’t say it,” Jingyi wails, pushing down a hot rush of tears. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry. I’ll make it better, I’ll do whatever—” It’s a really, really good thing Sizhui’s out with Jin Ling right now, because he’s not around to hear Jingyi get really, really embarrassing. Not that Jingyi will want to face him after this anyway, but it would be so so much worse if Sizhui was here to witness it firsthand.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jiang Cheng’s expression shifts to one of confusion. His stupidly gorgeous mouth twists a bit and his brows become one.

Jingyi throws up his hands. “Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? You’re dumping me and trying to let me down easy? But don’t. I can take it, okay? Just—”

Jiang Cheng laughs. Like, head thrown back, full-on belly laughing. Which is pretty mean to be honest, and Jiang Cheng is grumpy as fuck—with everyone but Jingyi—but he’s not mean.

So maybe he’s not dumping Jingyi.

“Oh Christ, kid, I love you so much. But something tells me I’d never get rid of you even if I wanted to. And trust me, I don’t want to. Just—” He reaches behind him, pulling out a small stack of books and magazines and—no.

Oh no. No no no no no. He found Jingyi’s porn stash.

Jingyi’s face is suddenly very very hot and he knows it’s probably the color of a ripe tomato and breathing is a problem. “I can explain,” he tries to say but it’s more of a gasp.

“You’re twenty-one, kid. I’d be more surprised if you didn’t have a pile of porn somewhere. It’s not like I don’t.”

“Wait. What?” Jingyi’s brain threatens to short-circuit. He and Jiang Cheng have been together for the better part of two years and Jingyi had no idea. Of course, it wasn’t like he was voluntarily sharing his

“How did you find it?” He asks, pointing the offending literature. And, as he comes closer and glances at it, it seems way too small. He definitely has more than that under his bed. So—does that mean Jiang Cheng was looking under his bed? Why the fuck—

Jingyi smacks his forehead, letting his legs buckle, collapsing to a graceless sprawl all over the very nice area rug Jiang Cheng gave him last month—because it reminded him of Jingyi. It’s light blue and fuzzy and right now Jingyi wants to bury his entire body in it. He left that bit of porn on his bed earlier, completely forgetting all about it because he wanted to set the living room up all nice for when Jiang Cheng came over. And he practically shoved Jiang Cheng in here and left him to his own devices because he didn’t want to spoil the surprise.

Gods. This is such a him problem. How is he twenty-one and still such a disaster? He has a hot older boyfriend who can fuck. He’s actually doing well in school—not as well as Sizhui, but at least he’ll graduate next year and be able to get a good job. He even has a decent summer job at one of the local breweries. As a chemist. It’ll look good on his resume and he’ll get to sample the wares, and yet, here he is, doing phenomenally, epically stupid stuff like leaving his porn on his bed like a horny teenager.

Jiang Cheng clears his throat over Jingyi’s head. “I, uh, thought that maybe we could discuss this one, in particular.”

Oh gods. Oh gods. Jingyi does not want to look up to see which one Jiang Cheng’s talking about. It’s probably the one with the centerfold of that porn star with the giant dick. Jingyi knows it can’t possibly be real; there must be some Photoshop going on or something—

“Jingyi.” Oh shit. Jiang Cheng never calls him Jingyi. This is bad. Maybe he’s mad after all; maybe he thinks Jingyi’s not satisfied in bed and holy god that is not it—and that’s what gets him to lift his head, even though he’s dying inside.

Jiang Cheng is not holding up the centerfold. He’s holding up Jingyi’s copy of The Gay Kama Sutra. Which is—well loved, to say the least. He got it secondhand, and—oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. It’s full of notes about the positions they’ve tried, and the ones he wants to try. Only those are hard.

Jiang Cheng opens to one page that he must have marked, turning it so the diagram faces Jingyi. Like the most mortifying story time ever. The diagram shows the silhouette of one person laying on their back, cradling their knees, their partner kneeling, facing them. It’s called the Indrani, and it’s one of the first positions from the book he and Jiang Cheng tried.  Scrawled across the diagram are Jingyi’s notes, and though he can’t see them, he remembers what he wrote.

“‘OMG, this was such a great one’,” Jiang Cheng reads out loud, letting his voice go low and sultry. Jingyi’s head snaps up and locks eyes with him, seeing the positively devilish gleam there. Jiang Cheng’s enjoying every second of this and suddenly Jingyi’s no longer embarrassed. He lifts his brow in challenge and braces himself. “Note for next time: boost my ass a bit higher—pillow?? Because that’s how to get JC to hit the sweet spot. Every. Single. Time.” Jiang Cheng smiles and it goes right to Jingyi’s dick. “So that’s why you bought that bolster.”

“Guilty.”

Jiang Cheng gives him a look, shifting a bit. Then he turns the book around and flips the pages. And when he shows Jingyi—

Fuck.

“Standing wheelbarrow,” Jiang Cheng says, in his soft baritone. The picture is one Jingyi knows very well—because he or may not have gotten off to the visual of him and Jiang Cheng doing it. More than once. Enough that he knows the instructions by rote. The receiving partner goes on their hands and knees, resting their head on their hands. The giving partner, standing behind them, lifts their bent legs up at the ankles.

Jingyi may or may not have been practicing his headstands, just in case he ever got the chance to do this one.

“‘Want to do. Please, if there is a god in heaven.’” Jiang Cheng’s gaze pierces into Jingyi’s own. “Really? You want to do this.”

Jingyi rolls his eyes, but it’s only because he just got about a thousand times hornier. “Yes,” he says with gusto. Enthusiasm. Because holy fuck if Jiang Cheng is asking, then maybe—

“It looks pretty hard.”

“That’s what she said,” Jingyi retorts without thinking. And it makes Jiang Cheng laugh at least, so that’s something. “Come here,” he says, once he calms down. Jingyi crawls over to him and settles himself between Jiang Cheng’s knees. And if he leans back, just a bit, so that his head is resting right in Jiang Cheng’s crotch, his boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind.

“You think we can do this?” Jiang Cheng asks.

“I’ve—” That comes out more like a croak. Jingyi clears his throat and tries again. “I’ve been practicing.” He feels Jiang Cheng tense behind him. “Headstands! Just headstands! So I can stay up without passing out.” He tips his head back, far back, and Jiang Cheng—well, Jingyi definitely knows that thirsty look. “Oh, you wanna.” Jingyi immediately flips around, wrapping his arms around Jiang Cheng’s waist. “Admit it, Jiang-ge,” he purrs. “You want to try this too.”

“I do.” He leans forward to give Jingyi a searing, scorching kiss. Enough that Jingyi feels a bit woozy when they break apart. “It just looks—athletic.”

Jingyi grins at him. “Good thing we both go to the gym on the regular then.” He kisses Jiang Cheng again, then very, very reluctantly stands, reaching out a hand. “Let’s go eat something to keep up our strength, and then after—” He lifts one single brow in invitation.

It’s a very, very, very good thing that Sizhui apparently decides to stay the night at Jin Ling’s because if he came home, he would have been treated to a sight. He would have walked into the living room to see Jiang Cheng, braced against the only stretch of wall unadorned with pictures and other décor, knees bent, Jingyi’s bent legs clamped against the outside of Jiang Cheng’s muscular and thankfully strong thighs, his hands getting raw with carpet burn as Jiang Cheng fucks into him from behind while clasping his ankles.

This position's difficult to hold, but it feels fucking amazing, the blood in Jingyi’s head making him feel heady and floaty and—gods. It’s a wonder he manages to last as long as he does and it’s probably only by the grace of all that practice. He’s already making low keening noises with each thrust that would be mortifying in any other situation—and then Jiang Cheng lifts his legs higher and—gods.

“I’m gonna—oh my god—I’m so close—” Jiang Cheng isn’t even touching him. He can’t while keeping Jingyi in place but it doesn’t matter. Jingyi’s vision goes white and he has an out-of-body experience when he comes. Like he can see himself fucking falling apart, Jiang Cheng the only thing keeping the pieces together, until he starts to lose control, too, sliding his hands up Jingyi’s legs, bracing his feet on the wall. And then Jiang Cheng goes to town and even though Jingyi’s flirting with overstimulation, it feels so fucking good, and he’s making loud, punched out noises with every thrust that are entirely out of his control. He can tell when Jiang Cheng’s close and— “Come on, Daddy. Come for me.”

Fuck.” And Jiang Cheng does. It works every single time. Jingyi does his best to hang on through it, but after, he pitches forward and off Jiang Cheng’s cock, going completely boneless. He’s a wreck, sweat pouring off him, plastering his hair to his scalp, cum on his stomach and running down his legs. He’s well and truly fucked-out. That was fucking amazing.

He can’t wait to see which position they try next.

#

Only maybe they never will. Because Jingyi’s been pestering Jiang Cheng to at least attempt one of the harder ones and he keeps changing the subject.

Jingyi’s not letting him get out of at least talking about it this time. He straddles Jiang Cheng’s legs, he and Jiang Cheng still clothed.

For now.

“Come on Da-ge,” Jingyi murmurs, just before he leans in and starts kissing along the column of Jiang Cheng’s throat, sucking at the one spot he knows will drive him crazy. “Please. Please. I’m begging. This is me begging. You’ve held me up before.”

“Yeah. Against a wall, not in the middle of the room,” Jiang Cheng retorts but Jingyi can tell he’s wearing him down. So he plays dirty.

He gives Jiang Cheng his ‘uwu’ look: head down a bit, eyes wide, gazing up at him through his lashes, pushing out his lower lip into a pout. Then he bats his eyelashes. “But Da-ge,” he says, letting his voice go a bit low and breathy. “You’re so strong. You could definitely do it.”

“Christ, kid. You have too much fucking power. What’s going to happen the one time I have to say no to you and you pull this shit with me?”

Jingyi laughs, then kisses him. Just a little one, not even that much tongue. “Why would you need to say no to me?”

“Because you want to put us both in the hospital? I can just see it. The doctor asks how I slipped a disc and dropped you and I have to admit it was because I was trying to hold my very persistent yet imminently fuckable boyfriend up and he proved to be too much for my old bones.”

Jingyi rolls his eyes. “You’re thirty-three, not seventy. And you can clean press more than me. Your back can absolutely take this.” He kisses him again because he knows he’s almost worn him down. “Besides, you won’t have to take all my weight. My feet will be on the bed and yours is high enough to take some of it.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t say anything, uncertainly still playing over his face. But then it shifts, just a bit. Someone else might not notice but Jingyi has every expression memorized.

Da-ge,” he breathes. “You’re gonna say yes. Oh god, oh god.” Suddenly his pants are really, really too snug. He may or may not bounce a bit in glee—and try to shift them a bit.

Jiang Cheng sighs—but his pupils blow wide. “You’re gonna be the death of me, kid.” He says that all the time, but he’s not dead yet, so clearly Jingyi’s good for him, actually. Even Jin Ling grudgingly admitted it one night, when he was very clearly drunk. He said that his jiujiu wasn’t nearly as grumpy as he used to be, less stressed and tense and abrasive.

And then he vehemently denied saying anything of the sort the next morning.

“Fine. But if you break me, just think of all the perfectly nice and normal sex you’ll be missing out on while I recover.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Then he kisses Jiang Cheng again, making it absolutely wet and messy and filthy. And he grinds against him, just to hear his muffled moan against his mouth. He does that until he’s nearly out of his mind with want, because he knows it’ll get Jiang Cheng out of his head. He’ll be too horny to overthink it anymore.

Sure enough, he pulls back with a growl, snatching at Jingyi’s sweater to pull it over his head. Actually it’s Jiang Cheng’s, or was. It’s royal purple and it's way too big for Jingyi and it’s his favorite one. Jingyi reaches for Jiang Cheng’s shirt but it’s too snug for him to easily get a grip on it before Jiang Cheng envelops Jingyi’s waist and stands them both up.

“See? You have nothing to worry about. You can totally hold my weight!”

Jiang Cheng only grunts—then takes him to the bedroom and tosses Jingyi onto the bed. Grabs Jingyi’s ankles, making him squeal. He pulls him close enough that he can reach for the button of Jingyi’s pants, jerking them down and off. Then lifts a brow.

Jingyi flushes a bit, then winks. “I believe in efficiency, Jiang-ge.” Because he fully went commando, just in case he got his way. “And, in the interest of efficiency—” Jingyi angles his body so he can pull out the toy.

Jiang Cheng makes a strangled noise from somewhere above him. Jingyi rolls back over and onto his knees. Grabs the hem of Jiang Cheng’s shirt, tugging him closer. Then rises, but he’s still too short to pull it up very far, so Jiang Cheng takes it off for him, his eyes just so dark as they rake over Jingyi’s body.

Even after two years, that look steals the breath from him.

But he’s not too lust-addled to not crawl closer, to try to unbutton Jiang Cheng’s pants with his teeth. It—doesn’t quite work. But it does get a chuckle out of Jiang Cheng. “God, kid. I just—”

“You love me. I know. You say it enough.” He uses his fingers this time, but he does manage to lower the fly with his mouth. Then pulls Jiang Cheng’s pants down just enough to display the very obvious bulge in his boxer briefs. Which he licks, right over the fabric.

“I do. But if you really want to try the—” He’s cut off when Jingyi mouths over his head.

“Sensory support,” Jingyi supplies, helpfully, murmuring it into Jiang Cheng’s pelvis.

“Yeah. That. If you want to, you need to stop.”

“I want. Trust me, Daddy. I want.”

Jiang Cheng gets the most adorable blank look on his face for a second. Like his brain just made the windows-shut down noise. But he recovers quickly, stomping his pants off, then his underwear.  “I think it might be easier if we—” He drags Jingyi to the end of the bed again, running his hands up from Jingyi’s ankles to his thighs. Then angles his hips so he can fuck into him, taking his damn time. Jingyi knows it’s because he’s nervous since he didn’t prepare him ahead of time, but that toy was big enough.

Jingyi should know since he bought it just for that purpose.

Once Jiang Cheng’s fully seated, he gives Jingyi a heated look. “You’re sure?”

Jingyi can’t nod enthusiastically enough. “Yes, Da-ge, please.”

Jiang Cheng pulls almost all the way out and on his next thrust, he leans far forward. “Then hang on.”

He has a sharp smile on his face, the one that lets Jingyi know he’s in for a ride. He grabs onto Jiang Cheng’s very nice, very sculpted shoulders—gods, how did he get so, so lucky—and the second he does, Jiang Cheng lifts them both, then turns them, his hands gripping Jingyi’s ass while Jingyi reaches for the bed and curls his toes into the duvet.

And suddenly Jingyi realizes he didn’t really think this one through because how are they supposed to move? But Jiang Cheng clearly did because his hands shift to Jingyi’s waist and he lifts Jingyi up and off him a bit before he lowers him back down. No one ever said Jingyi’s not a quick study, especially when it comes to sex, so he figures it out fast. He winds his arms around Jiang Cheng’s neck, digging in his knees so he can help. And he can’t move much, but even the small amount is intense because each time he goes down he just opens as much as he can, and he knows he’s making little grunts each time, but it’s just so so good.

They can’t keep this up long. Even Jingyi knows this. Jiang Cheng’s legs start shaking and they’re both sweaty and Jingyi’s knees start to slide—

Jiang Cheng whirls them back and slams Jingyi back onto the bed, but he brings one knee up and over his shoulder as he starts to pick up the pace, his strokes longer but harder, his hips striking Jingyi’s ass over and over.

And Jingyi’s already gone. He’s nothing but pure sensation, the slide of Jiang Cheng inside him, the throbbing of his own dick—until Jiang Cheng curls a hand around it. Jingyi’s eyes fly open and the expression on Jiang Cheng’s face—

He’s close. Jingyi can tell by the hot little curl of his lip, by his look of utter focus on Jingyi. And that, combined with the way he’s thumbing over the so sensitive head—

“Oh my god, Da-ge, oh fuck—” His eyes roll back and his entire body arches, his orgasm taking him by complete surprise. He’s suddenly a shaking, shuddering, clenching mess, so he isn’t paying the best attention when Jiang Cheng moans and spills into him.

But he’s better when Jiang Cheng falls onto him, both of them panting and sweaty. He presses cool kisses to Jiang Cheng’s temple, then his mouth when he offers it. “I’d say that was a successful experiment,” he breathes against Jiang Cheng’s lips.

He gets a short chuckle in response. “What are your notes?” Jiang Cheng’s voice is both breathy and husky at once, and gods, it’s so hot, even though Jingyi is spent.

For now.

He thanks whatever past version of himself who did the good deeds to give present him such a gorgeous man.

“Ten out of ten for hotness and workout potential—”

Jiang Cheng cuts him off with a laugh. Pulls out, and plops onto the bed, gathering Jingyi into him.

“Two out of ten for ability to last. Unless I start hitting the gym more than every other day.”

“I think I was the one to fade first, so how about we just save that one for special occasions? Besides, there isn’t a thing wrong with your body, kid.”

Jingyi cuddles closer, dropping little kisses all over Jiang Cheng’s chest, not able to hold back his grin of contentment. Because the sex is amazing, Jiang Cheng indulging him with wild positions is hot, but—this. After. This is his favorite part. It’s like it’s just them, the rest of the world not even existing for a little while. The only thing that matters is each other, and the sweat drying on their bodies, and—

“Jingyi, no.” Jiang Cheng rolls back, flinging a hand over his face. “This is my punishment for having a younger boyfriend, isn’t it? Cursed with an insatiable love of my life.”

“Wait, what?” Because he says he loves Jingyi all the time, but this—this is different.

“Don’t be dumb. You know you are.”

Jingyi turns to Jiang Cheng, propping his head up on his elbow, biting his lip. “No, I don’t. I just always figured—” He cuts himself off. Because he doesn’t want to say it. That Jiang Cheng’s the love of his life, but that he never thought he felt the same. That he always thought—

“I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.” Jiang Cheng looks too vulnerable when he says that. And must feel it, too because his face closes up a bit. “Just—you know how I feel about you.”

Jingyi drapes himself over Jiang Cheng. “Oh, but you’ve said it now. No taking it back. You love me. You want me to stay forever. You want to marry me—”

“Jingyi.” Jiang Cheng sighs. “You have your whole life ahead of you. You’ve barely begun to live. You can’t honestly know—”

“Haven’t you heard that a Lan only loves once?” Jingyi buries his face in Jiang Cheng’s chest, because they’ve had this discussion before and it always stings a little. The unspoken accusation that Jingyi doesn’t know his own heart. “You’ve seen my uncle and your brother. Can you imagine them with anyone else? And what about Sizhui and your nephew?”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t say anything. For a long time. But his arms tighten around Jingyi and he pulls him closer. “Let’s get some sleep,” he says. Finally. And then, “I do love you. Maybe too much.”

Jingyi doesn’t think it’s possible. Because he loves Jiang Cheng more.

#

Jiang Cheng stares at Wei Wuxian’s coffee cup like it’s going to grow legs and saunter off the table. He’s the one who invited him out, but now he’s too apprehensive to ask the question he invited Wei Wuxian out to ask. Because he clearly didn’t think nearly enough about whom he was asking.

Wei Wuxian will tease the ever-loving fuck out of him the second he opens his mouth.

This is a terrible idea, so now he has to think of some excuse instead.

“Jiang Cheng! You’re making me nervous. What’s on your mind?”

Jiang Cheng drags his eyes up, and Wei Wuxian’s got that smile on his face. Half-teasing, but there’s a kindness behind it.

Fuck it. He can take Wei Wuxian’s ribbing.

“How did you know you wanted to marry Lan Wangji? Like, was there a moment or—”

Oh my god. This is so exciting! You’re gonna ask Jingyi? Oh, you have to call me the second he says yes, because of course he’s going to. Or maybe you should do one of those video things! I bet it would go viral—”

“You don’t think it’s too soon? That’s he too young? He’s only twenty-one. I didn’t know what major I wanted when I was his age, let alone who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Yeah, but—and I mean this in the nicest way—we were both wrecks then, too, right? Shijie had just died. I dropped out. At least you stayed in school. Jingyi, for all he’s so exuberant has a good head on his shoulders. You’re good for him, I think. Because you’re so steady—like a grumpy rock.” Wei Wuxian laughs at his own terrible joke. Takes a sip of coffee. “And—” He takes another sip, like he’s considering what he’s going to say next. “He’s really good for you, too. He gets you out of your head. I’ve never seen you so happy.” The look he gives Jiang Cheng goes right through him. “You’re good for each other. Don’t let him get away.”

Jiang Cheng did not expect this. He was ready to be mercilessly teased. The genuine caring and honesty undoes him a bit. So he fumbles with what to say next, taking it out on a poor innocent napkin. It’s practically shredded before he can find his next words. “He is really young.”

“So? Are you worried about what others will think? Just threaten to break their legs and you’ll be fine.”

Jiang Cheng’s head snaps back up at that. And there’s the teasing grin he’s expecting.

“You can have a long engagement. Take all the time you want. There’s no right way to love someone, you know.” How the fuck did Wei fucking Wuxian get so astute? “Besides, anyone who was going to say something would’ve by now. You’ve been together for two years. I think we’re all resigned to your scandalous relationship.”

“Okay, but how? Did you do the one-knee thing or…”

“Oh, god, can you imagine? No, it just kind of fell out of my mouth. Lan Zhan had planned this whole day out. Lunch at that place downtown. A wander through the Sunday market. Then a carriage ride. And I just asked him. I had no idea that he planned the whole day to ask me. Don’t you remember? You were at the surprise engagement party that night.”

Right. He remembers the party, but not the story about how it happened. It’s—sweet. And so typical that Lan Wangji would be so meticulous, only to be overrun by Wei Wuxian’s impulsiveness.

But Jiang Cheng knows that’s not for him. If—no, it’s a when now, even though he doesn’t know when—he won’t want it to be too elaborate. Or have a big party.

When he asks, he wants it to be just them.

#

“Jingyi, what the fuck are you listening to?” Jiang Cheng startles him when he comes over, setting his keys and phone on that one end table he always uses. But he’s early; he doesn’t get off work until—Jingyi glances at the clock on his laptop.

Oh, he’s not early. Jingyi just lost track of time.

When he turns back, he’s grinning at Jiang Cheng. “Hey, have you ever heard of this band called the Bloodhound Gang? Because they’re hilarious.”

Jiang Cheng closes his eyes and tips his head back. Slowly. “Oh, fuck no,” he says, so quiet that Jingyi barely hears him.

“No, really! C’mere! They have this one song, where they’re dressed in monkey suits. It’s called ‘The Bad Touch’.” He cues up the video and starts singing along with it. “’You and me baby, ain’t nothing but mammals, so let’s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel.’ Hey, you know that’s totally us!”

“No, it’s absolutely not us at all.” Jiang Cheng looks—appalled, actually. Jingyi’s not sure how long it’s been since he’s seen him so red-faced. Maybe since that day he gave him a blowjob for the first time. “You do know that I respect you as a person, right? That song is about nothing but objectification.”

“I just mean that, you know, when we’re doing it, I can’t think. It’s like every part of my mind shuts off and it’s just pure instinct, you know?”

Jiang Cheng nods, then comes over to drape his arms over Jingyi’s shoulders. “Okay, that part might be a bit accurate. But it’s still a terrible song.” He drops a couple of kisses to Jingyi’s neck that short-circuits his brain a bit. “When we’re, you know—” the kisses become open-mouthed and sucking a bit at his skin “—doing it, all I can see is you. Every reaction, every little, delicious sound you make.” He nips at Jingyi’s already sensitive skin, soothing it with his tongue, and Jingyi lets his head fall back, definitely making one of those sounds now. “I can’t get enough. I’ll never get enough.”

“Oh my god,” Jingyi’s going to die. He’s actually going to expire in this chair, because his entire body is melting.

“Hey, I have an idea.” Jingyi’s already nodding. It could be anything, anything at all, as long as it involves them having sex as soon as humanly possible. He could suggest they fuck in monkey suits and Jingyi would not say no—actually that sounds kinda fun. “Are there any positions in that Kama Sutra book that don’t involve gymnastics?”

Jingyi’s having a really hard time thinking right now. But he does remember one. “Yeah.”

“Come on, then.” Jiang Cheng’s tugging him off the chair and against him. Kisses him thoroughly enough that Jingyi sees God himself. Only breaks off to slip his shirt over his head while Jingyi’s clumsily going after Jiang Cheng’s tie. He can’t quite get the knot, until he does and then he cannot get the buttons undone fast enough. But they’re kissing again, wet and hot and messy—at least on Jingyi’s end. He couldn’t be careful if he tried.

Jiang Cheng grips Jingyi’s waist and hauls him up and on instinct, Jingyi wraps his legs above Jiang Cheng’s hips, letting him carry Jingyi down the hall to his room. He deposits Jingyi on the bed, reaching for his belt, but Jingyi beats him to it. Fumbles a bit, but gets it free, pulling it out with a flourish. Tosses it aside, then goes right for the button of his pants.

“Someone’s eager,” Jiang Cheng teases.

“Have you seen you? Of course I’m eager. I never don’t wanna.”

“Yes, I’m well aware.” His voice is dry. “Sometimes I worry I won’t be able to keep up.”

“What?” Jingyi stops for a second, looking up. And—yup. There’s apprehension in those dark eyes. Hidden, but Jingyi can see it. He draws himself up to full height—well, on his knees, anyway. “You’re never not going to be enough for me, Jiang-ge. Never.”

“Oh, Christ, kid.” Jiang Cheng sighs, then turns and sits. “How can you say shit like that? You have too much power.”

“You love it,” he says, draping himself over his lap. “Or you wouldn’t let me have this much power.” He kisses him, but it’s gentler this time. He winds his arms around Jiang Cheng’s neck, tickling the short little hairs at his nape. “You love me. And I love you.” He brings his hands lower, scratching down Jiang Cheng’s spine, which makes his back arch deliciously. “I love you so much that I want you inside me as quickly as possible, yeah?”

Jiang Cheng does look—well, thrown is probably the best word. “Yeah.” The sound is more a breath than anything else. “Tell me about this position.”

“Weeelll, it’s called a shoulder stand—”

“I said no gymnastics, kid.”

“No, wait! Just listen.” Jingyi tucks his face into the side of Jiang Cheng’s neck. “I lay down, resting on my shoulders while you’re kneeling up, with my legs over your shoulders. It’s not hard at all, really. Not compared with the others.” He may have been punctuating his explanation with little licks and love bites.

Maybe.

“Okay, that actually doesn’t sound that bad.” Jiang Cheng gets a little devilish gleam in his eye. “I’m guessing you’re not wearing a toy today.”

Jingyi giggles. “No, not today. But if you would like me to—”

“No. No. I want to touch you. If that’s okay.”

Jingyi angles his head. “You haven’t been listening. It’s always okay.”

Jiang Cheng looks serious again. “I will never not ask permission, anyway.”

“And that’s just one of the reasons why I love you,” Jingyi says, then crawls up the bed toward the nightstand, where all the fun stuff is. He grabs the bottle of lube, and by the time he turns back around Jiang Cheng is already naked. And—how does he look better than when they first got together? It’s not fair how gorgeous he is. Those thighs alone—not to mention that cock. Jingyi could write poetry about that cock—if he could write poetry.

He tried. It was awful.

And suddenly he’s starving, biting his lip. He gives Jiang Cheng his ‘uwu’ look again which makes him laugh.

“Go ahead, kid.”

Jingyi makes a show of coming back, wiggling his ass for maximum effect. Wraps his hand around that delicious dick—and then inspiration hits. He reaches back for the lube and pours a very generous amount in his palm. Then starts stroking, so so slowly. He lets his forefinger and thumb circle it, then drag up, the rest of his fingers joining in. And he keeps taking his goddamn time, until he sees a drop of pre-cum and only then does he take the head in his mouth, tonguing at the slit.

He’s rewarded with a barely-contained groan over his head. “Jesus fucking Christ, kid, I don’t ever want to know how you learned how to do that.”

Jingyi just hums a bit and takes him further, then further, stopping at the back of his soft palate. He hasn’t been able to take him deeper, but each time he tries.

It’s a life goal, to be able to take him fully.

Until then, he makes do, using his slicked fingers to make up for it. Only he doesn’t get to continue nearly as long as he wants—because Jiang Cheng’s fingers in his hair tighten and pull him off.

“If you want to do that shoulder stand thing, you need to stop.”

“Okay.” Jingyi scrambles back until he hits the pillows, Jiang Cheng climbing onto the bed almost like he’s chasing him. Jingyi locks eyes with him and—damn.

He will never get tired of that look. It’s what keeps him still while Jiang Cheng strips off his pants. What makes his knees fall open, what makes him lean back, so Jiang Cheng can touch him. Open him up.

And then, hopefully, fuck him until he can’t remember how to talk.

Jiang Cheng gives him a look that should be a crime as he slicks his fingers, and Jingyi very quickly learns why because he doesn’t enter him. Just runs his fingernail around the rim, teasing.

Jingyi’s head falls back, smacking against the headboard but he doesn’t care. This is maddening. He’s so hard and Jiang Cheng’s just teasing him and he might actually come from this because he’s just that horny—and then there’s the little burn to curb that just in time.

Because Jiang Cheng knew that he was getting closer and pulled him off the edge before he even reached it.

Not fair.

But now he’s fucking into him so slowly, no pain, just stretching. Even when his first knuckle goes in, it’s easy to accommodate. And once that one finger is all the way in, Jiang Cheng comes up, resting most of his weight on his free arm, rather than Jingyi. And then he starts to slide it in and out, kissing Jingyi until he wants to beg him to go faster.

So he does.

“Da-ge, please.” He drags out the last word. “You know I can take so much more. Please go harder. Faster. Please.”

“No.” And then Jiang Cheng goes slower, so that Jingyi feels every centimeter of movement. He gets even harder if that possible, dampening his own belly.

“I thought you said you could never say no to me.”

“I guess I spoke too soon, kid.” But he does add a second finger, slowly spreading them as he goes. And he curls them on the way out, and Jingyi’s eyes go wide when he hits that one spot.

He may or may not have whimpered.

“Please, Da-ge, Daddy, please.” He’s not even sure what he’s begging for. Just—anything. He doesn’t care if they try that position. He doesn’t care.

All he does care about is that his hips are stuttering up every time Jiang Cheng strikes that sweet spot, desperate for him to go faster, to stretch him wider. To just fuck him already.

“Please what?” And only then does he add a third finger, and Jingyi’s going to die.

“Please—fuck! God, Da-ge, just fuck me. Fuck me, Daddy.” He just manages to say the last bit before Jiang Cheng’s fingers stroke over his prostate, again. And he’s close, again.

Untouched. Again.

“Okay, sweetheart, okay.” And he’s never called Jingyi that before. Jingyi might have whimpered again. But he doesn’t have a chance to do anything else but squeak when Jiang Cheng tugs him down, then lifts his knees up and over his shoulders. Then rises to stand on his knees, bringing Jingyi with him. He braces his hands on Jingyi’s hips, lines himself up, and drives into him all the way with one fast, brutal thrust.

Jingyi’s pretty sure his heart stops dead in that moment. But then it’s racing as Jiang Cheng keeps up the pace, just this side of punishing, and it’s fucking amazing.

Jingyi clamps his hands around Jiang Cheng’s wrists, the only thing he can reach. Only Jiang Cheng takes one hand and closes it around Jingyi’s dick, stroking in time with his thrusts.

Jingyi can’t talk. Can’t think. Can only feel, and try to remember to breathe and try very hard not to come. Not yet. This feels too too good. But he’s careening to the cliffside and he can’t hang on—

He thinks he screams when he actually comes but he’s not sure because he kind of blacks out for a bit. He knows he’s basically just hanging on for dear life, crying out incoherently just before. And Jiang Cheng continues to fuck him through it, and after it, and Jingyi doesn’t care if it’s just this side of too much because it still feels great.

And he can talk now, so he does.

“Da-ge, you are so good,” he says, stuttering a bit because Jiang Cheng is still railing him. “So, so good. Don’t stop, please.” Because he never really went soft, and maybe if Jiang Cheng can keep going—

“Fuck, Jingyi.” Jiang Cheng must have noticed, and sure enough when Jingyi looks down, Jiang Cheng’s eyes are trained on his pelvis. “How?”

“You’re that good.” Jiang Cheng starts stroking his cock again and it immediately twitches to life. “Are you close? Can you hang on until I—”

“No,” is all he says and Jingyi’s not sure which question he’s answering until his rhythm goes all wonky and his breathing shifts and Jingyi knows Jiang Cheng will not last until he’s fully hard again.

He won’t last another thirty seconds.

“That’s it, Daddy. That’s it.” Jingyi opens his eyes really wide, taking everything in. Jiang Cheng’s laser-focused, unblinking gaze on him, the sweat sheening his face, the slide of his legs over Jiang Cheng’s shoulders. “Now.”

Fuck, kid.” And that does it. Jiang Cheng’s clearly biting the inside of his lip when he comes, and Jingyi knows it’s probably hard enough to draw blood. One day he’s gonna get him to make some real noise and it’s gonna be awesome.

But for now he’ll take it when he collapses on him, boneless and still breathing hard. Jingyi strokes his damp hair from his forehead, leaning forward to kiss him there. “Da-ge, you are too good to me. You’re amazing. The bestest boyfriend. I love you so much.”

“Will you marry me?”

Wait—what? Jingyi’s hallucinating. That orgasm was so powerful it broke his brain. Because he’s imagined being asked, but knew it would never happen—especially not now. Jiang Cheng thinks he’s too young, that he’ll change his mind, that there will ever be a day when he won’t want him.

He’s dead wrong and Jingyi knows it, but a guy can dream.

He must be dreaming now.

“Huh?” Is his very suave, elegant reply.

“Christ, kid, I did not mean to spring that on you.” Jiang Cheng starts to pull away, but Jingyi throws his arms around him to stop him.

“You actually asked?” He knows he sounds stupid; he doesn’t care. “I thought I was hearing things.”

“Yeah, kid.”

Jingyi stares at Jiang Cheng’s averted eyes until they meet his. And just the sheer raw look in them steals his breath. He might not have meant to ask now—but he means it. Jingyi can see it.

“Yes, of course I will.”

“Jingyi—” And there’s his name again.

“Jiang Cheng. Shut up for a second and listen to me, because I’m only gonna say this once.” He laughs a bit, and kisses Jiang Cheng’s stupid, adorable cheek. “Okay, I’ll say it as many times as I need to get it through that thick skull of yours.”

“Hey!” But at least he’s smiling a bit, so Jingyi launches forward.

“I love you. That’s never going to change. Never,” he says with a very forceful voice when he sees Jiang Cheng about to protest. “I wanted you for like two years before we ever did anything. You’re my entire world. I’m not too young, I know what I want, damn it, and I want you. So yes, I’ll marry you, and now you can’t take it back, so there.”

Jiang Cheng bursts out laughing. “That last bit really sold the maturity, kid.”

“Would you like me to stick my tongue out, too? Because I bet there are better uses for it—”

“Stop.” Jiang Cheng withdraws, rolling over to the side. Jingyi chases him, snuggling close. “I’m not going to take it back. So we’re engaged. God, that sounds weird.”

Jingyi presses a couple of small kisses to his chest. Flick his tongue over his nipple, just because he can. “No, it sounds great.” He does it again, until Jiang Cheng groans, but he knows it’s not from desire. “I can’t wait to see the look on Jin Ling’s face.”