This time, Xichen is too focused on catching his companion and helping him stand to voice his worry. He helps Jiang Wanyin up, keeps support of his arm and helps him walk as the attendant leads them to the room.
The man hurries forward, showing them to a room which houses one very large bed but a small seating area. the purpose is quite clear, though xichen doesn't acknowledge it as the man tells them that he will bring anything they need. he dismisses him with a dip of the head, focuses on his fellow sect leader. "Let's get you to bed?" he says softly, worry seeping to each word. "Your condition seems to be worsening rapidly."
He waits until the attendant leaves and until he's sure that no one is
outside the doors and could hear them. He relaxes his grip of Xichen's
hand. Being honest would be the best thing to do.
"Just don't...say my name."
He frowns deeply and gingerly sits on the bed, curling over himself.
"Something happened on the night hunt, I'm not sure what. But anytime you
say my name, it...does things. So with all due respect, Zewu Jun, please
afford me some privacy to deal with the effects."
"Your name?" Xichen frowns, looking at the other man with brows knit close.
"What does it do?" If he understands, surely he can help fix this and perhaps understand what can be done to reverse this. The confusion remains until Jiang Wanyin elaborates and then realization hits as the man curls over himself.
The way he's flushed, how he's moved since they'd made it downstairs.
Ah.
"I must apologize, W-- Sect Leader Jiang," he tries, flustered and heat rising up his neck as he stands in front of the other man. He's said the others name so many times in the last few hours, distracted by the sight of him and enjoying his company. "I didn't realize." He wasn't meant to, he knows, but he is sorry for the discomfort he has caused. "If you remember any details of what happened before this started perhaps I can see if... anyone has heard of such a thing happening before?"
Just the sound is like a gentle caress. He swears quietly; not even his
full name and thereβs an effect. He swallows,trying his best to not stare
at the man before him. When did Lan Xichen smell so good?
βA little difficult to think at the moment,β he manages to grit out.
"I will wait outside then? Or downstairs?" he offers, reaching out forward to give Jiang Wanyin's shoulder a gentle squeeze. He hopes that this does add oil to the flames he's already fanned.
"If there is anything that comes to mind, if this is not resolved now, I will make sure a cure is found," he says it softly, but certainly. "As long as this is not caused by the statue in the temple we were in earlier, all should be alright." He had said not to touch anything when they were inside, aware of what trouble lay inside, and he had not seen anything occur but now Lan Xichen worries.
There's a large part of him that wants to scream no and have Lan Xichen
stay right here and help him but his pride stops him from doing so. Jiang
Cheng grits his teeth, dangerously close to breaking them. The statue?
Through the red haze that settles over his mind, there's something to Lan
Xichen's words. The trinket that day that he had been hit with before they
escaped the temple.
"No, not the temple earlier today," he gasps out.
Somehow it sounds far more shameless than he had intended. He swallows
another moan.
Xichen shouldn't move closer, knows he's exasturbating the issue but he cannot help the concern. The other man is in pain and Xichen is the cause.
Yet he remains close, the hand that was on Wanyin's shoulder reaches out and he brushes the back of his hand against the other man's cheek. He's warm, burning even. "Wan---" he stops himself, gasps and shakes his head. If it's not from the temple earlier, he is not sure what it could be.
Yet, if it is something simialr-- he cannot hold back what he knows. "You are growing more feverish. We will find the cause later, I will leave you... though I fear that if my saying your name is causing this pain then it will not abate the issue."
He gasps when he hears just half of his name roll off of Lan Xichen's lips.
His pupils are blown and his lips are bitten red from holding in moans. His
cheeks are flushed and his resolve is delicate. There's a large part of him
that wants to shout NO and beg for him to stay, take him, taste him.
He licks his lips.
His feet move without him and Jiang Cheng is halfway across the room,
striding toward Lan Xichen before he realizes what is happening.
"Zewu Jun," he gasps, "...Lan Xichen," he growls out, lust dripping in his
voice. "Please."
He doesn't know what he's pleading for; Xichen's mouth, his hand,
his--Jiang Cheng gasps again and tries to stop himself from finishing that
line of thought.
And that, well, that is enough to confirm at least some of Lan Xichen's worry. He turns around, faces the younger sect leader.
Jiang Wanyin is handsome normally. Like this, with his hair pulled from his neck, flushed and wanting, he's beautiful Xichen wants him no matter his appearance, but he is not made of jade and this is too hard to resist. Still, there are lines that he does not want to cross.
"I fear that this is tied us more severely than I thought," he says careful, swallowing as he steps closer. "If the curse won't allow you to let me leave, I am afraid that it won't be satisfied without me." Careful, as if treading next to a creature that could run or attack. "If I stay, I would be taking advantage of your state... but I fear what will happen if I leave."
For a brief moment, there's clarity and Jiang Cheng silently pleads, begs
for forgiveness. He clutches the edge of a table with a white knuckled
grip. Sweat beads at his brow and he is barely able to hear what Lan Xichen
is saying because his eyes fall to the older man's lips and his mind
fizzles out, focusing on how plus they are. He blinks when he hears the
word leave and grits his teeth to keep from reaching and keeping him in the
room.
"If you are staying out of duty, then leave."
His pride still stands in the way. He couldn't look at him if it was out of
pity.
Lan Xichen can feel the other's gaze on him, feels the way the cool air of the room dissipates and warmth radiates through it. Wanyin is a beacon of it, of something burning bright and Xichen is drawn to the flame.
He can tell that the man is struggling, that the curse afflicting him is burning through him with increasing speed. That leaving would be a disservice, though it would be the right thing to do. The question though means that Jiang Wanyin is still mentally present enough, that the thought of this being out of duty is the thing that jars his pride and brings him back to his sense --- which means that perhaps
Xichen needs to know. "If not out of duty, would you want me to stay?"
Shame barely touches him at the admittance. Jinag Cheng gasps and reaches
up to undo and take down the crown and his ponytail, not wanting that on
him. His hands shake as it moves towards his belt. He lets out an anguished
moan and leans against the table, panting harshly and trying to take in
deep lungfuls of air to somehow maintain his sanity.
The word is overshadowed by the desperation with which he sees Jiang Wanyin pull out his guan, then release his hair. It's intimate, to see him like this, though not as intimate than what they must do to sate the curse coursing through the Jiang sect leader's veins.
"Then I'll stay," he says with certainty, stepping closer. "Let me help you," he is careful to avoid the younger man's name as he stands before him, reaches to cup his cheek and wipe the sheen of sweat away. His other hand catches both of Wanyin's as he fumbles with his belt, stopping the efforts for now.
His eyes flutter closed at gentle, so gentle, touch to his cheek and a
whimper escapes him at being moved. Hot. Everything is so hot. So
unbearably hot that he barely has a shred of his sanity left.
"Yes," he pants. "Yes, help me. Touch me, take me, taste me."
"Where do you need me, Wanyin?" And that's cruel, isn't it? Xichen realizes as he leans forward to graze his lips over the corner of Wanyin's mouth. This is what he wants, Xichen knows. It is also what he himself wants and it feels -- well, there is a wrongness to this.
This is not how he wants this bond forged, but he will not forsake it.
He pushes Wanyin's hands away, so he can work the ties of his belt for him.
If his hands weren't being held, Jiang Cheng would have ripped off his
clothes at the purring of his name. Again, it's like a direct lover's
caress to his nerves, sending his blood on fire. He pants hotly and moans
as the ties of his belt are worked. As soon as it's loose, he grabs it and
tosses it into a corner of the room. Then he reaches for the ties of his
vambraces, trying to tear every stitch of clothing off of himself.
"Everywhere," he snaps, "I need you everywhere. I need you to touch me, to
fuck me," he moans deeply.
"I can do that." Xichen wants to, wants to touch everywhere and have this man. It is because of a curse, he knows, but he will not throw away this chance if it is something that Wanyin wants beyond it.
He works the remaining ties of Wanyin's outer layer, peels back what he can and helps the other divest himself from heavy fabrics without focus to himself. There's something heady about this, of being left still dressed as a lover stands bare before him.
The silk practically peels off of Jiang Cheng from how hot he's burning. As
soon as the last layer falls away and he's left bare to Lan Xichen's gaze,
he's panting harshly and gripping the table behind him to stay upright. His
cock is flushed and hot and hard, curving up against his stomach. He
watches the other man as he reaches and gives himself a slow, firm stroke,
moaning at his own touch. Jiang Cheng can't hold the gaze for long as his
head drops back and he moans.
The sight before him is one that makes Xichen's mouth water. He is a man known for composure, yes, but there is a limit to that even with the silk adorning his forehead.
The sound that leaves his throat is a soft growl, a deep sound, as he surges forward to press against the other man. His fingers wrap around Wanyin's to pull them from his own cock, to replace his hold and move between them. The other hand finds his hair, to tilt his head back so that Xichen can claim his mouth.
He gives a deep moan as soon as he feels Lan Xichenβs mouth on his. Thereβs
a primal voice in him chanting and singing in yes In his mind and
blood as heat course through his veins. Thereβs a relief from how the other
man is pressed tightly against him and Jiang Cheng sobs, hips twitching, at
the feeling of the cool, dry band on his hardness.
He kisses him back with fervor, mouth moving against his, drawing Lan
Xichen in deeper and wanting so much more of him.
He wonders how long it will take for Wanyin to come undone, if that will alleviate any of the desire coursing through him. It is uncertain. He strokes him firmly, thinking what he likes himself and tests what draws a reaction from Wanyin's lips. Is it when he twists his hand? Rubs his thumb over the tip where he is leaking?
Xichen lets himself be drawn deeper, staking claim to Wanyin's mouth. He pulls back when they are both breathless, only to kiss and nip at the other's jaw. He wants to be rougher, to push lines he has not wanted to push before. Maybe the spell, whatever has taken hold of his companion is starting to affect him now that they've given in.
He gasps and cries out with each twist. His hips buck up when he feels the sword practice roughened thumb brush over the tip, leaking more precome all over his hand. It feeds the fire that rages through him and he moans deeply as Lan Xichen kisses him deeply once more.
"Ze-Zewu-Jun," he gasps out. "Please."
He arches and tilts his head back, baring his neck to him.
"What do you need, Wanyin?" Xichen asks between kisses to his jawline, before his attention turns to the other man's neck. He is enraptured by it, but leaving kisses and bites along the sun-kissed skin as he aims to bring him to completion in his hand. "Tell me."
The passionate cry left his lips as his name causes another bolt of
pleasure to strike through him. It's stronger this time. Strong enough that
he stills for just a moment and spills all over his hand, eyes closed,
mouth agape at the pleasure that he feels. Jiang Cheng gasps as he
continues to rock into his hand, still hard, still caught in the spell.
That answers the question he'd had, gives him understanding in what the spell wants and needs from him.
"So good for me," he says against Wanyin's neck, soothing a spot he'd catch with his teeth and left a love bite over with his tongue. "How do you want me?" he presses, wanting to hear it from the other's lips.
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The man hurries forward, showing them to a room which houses one very large bed but a small seating area. the purpose is quite clear, though xichen doesn't acknowledge it as the man tells them that he will bring anything they need. he dismisses him with a dip of the head, focuses on his fellow sect leader. "Let's get you to bed?" he says softly, worry seeping to each word. "Your condition seems to be worsening rapidly."
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"Just..."
He waits until the attendant leaves and until he's sure that no one is outside the doors and could hear them. He relaxes his grip of Xichen's hand. Being honest would be the best thing to do.
"Just don't...say my name."
He frowns deeply and gingerly sits on the bed, curling over himself.
"Something happened on the night hunt, I'm not sure what. But anytime you say my name, it...does things. So with all due respect, Zewu Jun, please afford me some privacy to deal with the effects."
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"What does it do?" If he understands, surely he can help fix this and perhaps understand what can be done to reverse this. The confusion remains until Jiang Wanyin elaborates and then realization hits as the man curls over himself.
The way he's flushed, how he's moved since they'd made it downstairs.
Ah.
"I must apologize, W-- Sect Leader Jiang," he tries, flustered and heat rising up his neck as he stands in front of the other man. He's said the others name so many times in the last few hours, distracted by the sight of him and enjoying his company. "I didn't realize." He wasn't meant to, he knows, but he is sorry for the discomfort he has caused. "If you remember any details of what happened before this started perhaps I can see if... anyone has heard of such a thing happening before?"
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Just the sound is like a gentle caress. He swears quietly; not even his full name and thereβs an effect. He swallows,trying his best to not stare at the man before him. When did Lan Xichen smell so good?
βA little difficult to think at the moment,β he manages to grit out.
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"If there is anything that comes to mind, if this is not resolved now, I will make sure a cure is found," he says it softly, but certainly. "As long as this is not caused by the statue in the temple we were in earlier, all should be alright." He had said not to touch anything when they were inside, aware of what trouble lay inside, and he had not seen anything occur but now Lan Xichen worries.
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There's a large part of him that wants to scream no and have Lan Xichen stay right here and help him but his pride stops him from doing so. Jiang Cheng grits his teeth, dangerously close to breaking them. The statue? Through the red haze that settles over his mind, there's something to Lan Xichen's words. The trinket that day that he had been hit with before they escaped the temple.
"No, not the temple earlier today," he gasps out.
Somehow it sounds far more shameless than he had intended. He swallows another moan.
no subject
Yet he remains close, the hand that was on Wanyin's shoulder reaches out and he brushes the back of his hand against the other man's cheek. He's warm, burning even. "Wan---" he stops himself, gasps and shakes his head. If it's not from the temple earlier, he is not sure what it could be.
Yet, if it is something simialr-- he cannot hold back what he knows. "You are growing more feverish. We will find the cause later, I will leave you... though I fear that if my saying your name is causing this pain then it will not abate the issue."
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He gasps when he hears just half of his name roll off of Lan Xichen's lips. His pupils are blown and his lips are bitten red from holding in moans. His cheeks are flushed and his resolve is delicate. There's a large part of him that wants to shout NO and beg for him to stay, take him, taste him. He licks his lips.
His feet move without him and Jiang Cheng is halfway across the room, striding toward Lan Xichen before he realizes what is happening.
"Zewu Jun," he gasps, "...Lan Xichen," he growls out, lust dripping in his voice. "Please."
He doesn't know what he's pleading for; Xichen's mouth, his hand, his--Jiang Cheng gasps again and tries to stop himself from finishing that line of thought.
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Jiang Wanyin is handsome normally. Like this, with his hair pulled from his neck, flushed and wanting, he's beautiful Xichen wants him no matter his appearance, but he is not made of jade and this is too hard to resist. Still, there are lines that he does not want to cross.
"I fear that this is tied us more severely than I thought," he says careful, swallowing as he steps closer. "If the curse won't allow you to let me leave, I am afraid that it won't be satisfied without me." Careful, as if treading next to a creature that could run or attack. "If I stay, I would be taking advantage of your state... but I fear what will happen if I leave."
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For a brief moment, there's clarity and Jiang Cheng silently pleads, begs for forgiveness. He clutches the edge of a table with a white knuckled grip. Sweat beads at his brow and he is barely able to hear what Lan Xichen is saying because his eyes fall to the older man's lips and his mind fizzles out, focusing on how plus they are. He blinks when he hears the word leave and grits his teeth to keep from reaching and keeping him in the room.
"If you are staying out of duty, then leave."
His pride still stands in the way. He couldn't look at him if it was out of pity.
no subject
He can tell that the man is struggling, that the curse afflicting him is burning through him with increasing speed. That leaving would be a disservice, though it would be the right thing to do. The question though means that Jiang Wanyin is still mentally present enough, that the thought of this being out of duty is the thing that jars his pride and brings him back to his sense --- which means that perhaps
Xichen needs to know. "If not out of duty, would you want me to stay?"
no subject
"Yes."
Shame barely touches him at the admittance. Jinag Cheng gasps and reaches up to undo and take down the crown and his ponytail, not wanting that on him. His hands shake as it moves towards his belt. He lets out an anguished moan and leans against the table, panting harshly and trying to take in deep lungfuls of air to somehow maintain his sanity.
no subject
The word is overshadowed by the desperation with which he sees Jiang Wanyin pull out his guan, then release his hair. It's intimate, to see him like this, though not as intimate than what they must do to sate the curse coursing through the Jiang sect leader's veins.
"Then I'll stay," he says with certainty, stepping closer. "Let me help you," he is careful to avoid the younger man's name as he stands before him, reaches to cup his cheek and wipe the sheen of sweat away. His other hand catches both of Wanyin's as he fumbles with his belt, stopping the efforts for now.
no subject
His eyes flutter closed at gentle, so gentle, touch to his cheek and a whimper escapes him at being moved. Hot. Everything is so hot. So unbearably hot that he barely has a shred of his sanity left.
"Yes," he pants. "Yes, help me. Touch me, take me, taste me."
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This is not how he wants this bond forged, but he will not forsake it.
He pushes Wanyin's hands away, so he can work the ties of his belt for him.
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If his hands weren't being held, Jiang Cheng would have ripped off his clothes at the purring of his name. Again, it's like a direct lover's caress to his nerves, sending his blood on fire. He pants hotly and moans as the ties of his belt are worked. As soon as it's loose, he grabs it and tosses it into a corner of the room. Then he reaches for the ties of his vambraces, trying to tear every stitch of clothing off of himself.
"Everywhere," he snaps, "I need you everywhere. I need you to touch me, to fuck me," he moans deeply.
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He works the remaining ties of Wanyin's outer layer, peels back what he can and helps the other divest himself from heavy fabrics without focus to himself. There's something heady about this, of being left still dressed as a lover stands bare before him.
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The silk practically peels off of Jiang Cheng from how hot he's burning. As soon as the last layer falls away and he's left bare to Lan Xichen's gaze, he's panting harshly and gripping the table behind him to stay upright. His cock is flushed and hot and hard, curving up against his stomach. He watches the other man as he reaches and gives himself a slow, firm stroke, moaning at his own touch. Jiang Cheng can't hold the gaze for long as his head drops back and he moans.
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The sound that leaves his throat is a soft growl, a deep sound, as he surges forward to press against the other man. His fingers wrap around Wanyin's to pull them from his own cock, to replace his hold and move between them. The other hand finds his hair, to tilt his head back so that Xichen can claim his mouth.
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He gives a deep moan as soon as he feels Lan Xichenβs mouth on his. Thereβs a primal voice in him chanting and singing in yes In his mind and blood as heat course through his veins. Thereβs a relief from how the other man is pressed tightly against him and Jiang Cheng sobs, hips twitching, at the feeling of the cool, dry band on his hardness.
He kisses him back with fervor, mouth moving against his, drawing Lan Xichen in deeper and wanting so much more of him.
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Xichen lets himself be drawn deeper, staking claim to Wanyin's mouth. He pulls back when they are both breathless, only to kiss and nip at the other's jaw. He wants to be rougher, to push lines he has not wanted to push before. Maybe the spell, whatever has taken hold of his companion is starting to affect him now that they've given in.
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"Ze-Zewu-Jun," he gasps out. "Please."
He arches and tilts his head back, baring his neck to him.
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"Ah!"
The passionate cry left his lips as his name causes another bolt of pleasure to strike through him. It's stronger this time. Strong enough that he stills for just a moment and spills all over his hand, eyes closed, mouth agape at the pleasure that he feels. Jiang Cheng gasps as he continues to rock into his hand, still hard, still caught in the spell.
"You," he moans deeply. "Need. You."
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"So good for me," he says against Wanyin's neck, soothing a spot he'd catch with his teeth and left a love bite over with his tongue. "How do you want me?" he presses, wanting to hear it from the other's lips.
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