Sweet Treats

[thesuspense]

WHO: Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen
WHEN: as everyone has settled into their respective groups in Taravast
WHERE: Xiao Xingchen's room
WHAT: Xue Yang needs sweet treats
WARNINGS: ...to be determined, but it will be grossly affectionate definitely smut tbh
It hasn't taken Xue Yang long to find out where Xiao Xingchen is located and he is determined not to let something as silly as this ruse and whatever purpose they are playing these roles for get in the way of spending time with him. He has no stake in how this goes, one way or the other, all he cares about is here in this room. All he cares about is him.

He watches, for a while, unseen (naturally) from the window. At an opportune time, he slips inside, only to quietly move past Xingchen and right onto the bed. It's still foreign how soft it is, but not something he'd be opposed to getting used to. As fabric rustles against fabric, he has no doubt that Xingchen will notice him before long, and no further interest in keeping his presence secret, so as he stretches out on the man's bed, shameless as ever, he speaks up.

"Ah, how you've missed me. Daozhang! What do I get for coming to visit you?"

Comments

[thesuspense]

At Xingchen's apology, Xue Yang has to pull away for a moment to keep from choking, because he has to laugh. What a polite man, even now. He shouldn't be surprised and he isn't really, but it does entertain him. Endear him too. "No need. I like that you're eager."

And he's certainly had rougher, not that any of that is on his mind right now. Not that there is really space for anything in his world right now, other than Xingchen. The taste of Xingchen as he takes him in again, the feel of his silken skin, his hardness. Those sounds he makes, of course. He wishes he had a way to hear them again and again, but never forgetting would have to do.

When he feels Xingchen tense, as he has one hand on his thigh, the other on his hip, he pauses, then pulls away. Both hands on the mattress on either side of him, Xue Yang pulls himself up, rather purposefully dragging along him. He says nothing now, not quite trusting his own voice, and too eager to find Xingchen's lips instead. When he kisses him again, he hopes he tastes himself that way. He lies stretched out on top of Xingchen, no space between them, and his hips move, seeking friction.

There are better ways to do this, but the way he feels about Xingchen, that intensity, for the moment it makes it hard to think past more than the most immediate desires, seeking to fulfil their lust.

[binghua]

This shared intimacy, their soft laughter, makes it easier for Xingchen to smile. He's still a little shy about everything and unsure if he's doing it all right - or enough - but the reassurance definitely helps. When his friend gets back to work on him, one of Xingchen's hands returns to simply thread through his friend's hair. He's careful not to tug or get too tangled up in it, but he wants to encourage him, reward him.

I like you is on the tip of his tongue, but then his friend does something, sucks just right or laves his tongue over a specific spot, and he moans instead, cutting off the louder sound by biting his lip. It feels so good. He had always imagined this would, but reality proves to be much better than his imagination ever could be.

They're at this for an unknown amount of time, maybe it's just a few minutes, maybe it's far longer Xingchen never really tried to keep track - but he does feel his gut start to tighten, his body start to tense, which doesn't take a genius to figure out what that could mean. Luckily, his friend seems to recognize this and pulls off of him. It's both a relief and a disappointment, in that Xingchen is able to breathe for a moment, but then he was close to being satisfied!

Kisses are satisfying, too, though, and he welcomes his friend without argument, his own body rolling up to meet the one on top of his own. There's a lingering taste on his friend's lips Xingchen hadn't tasted before. His own taste. Should he be disgusted by that? He isn't. It's just more proof that they've come together like this. Hands move down from his friend's hair, over sharp shoulder blades, along that warm expanse of back. He grips his friend's hips and holds him down, so flush, and presses up into him again, just more this time. He gasps...and then does it again. "I like...how you fit here. Against me."