There was a saying, he supposed, about curiosity and cats.
Really, he was walking on eggshells. Nie Huaisang had spent the entirety of Yunmeng’s Discussion Conference baiting Jiang Wanyin with surreptitious glances, careful words, and tasteful flashes of skin, only to turn around and spend the entirety of the closing banquet speaking with men who weren’t Jiang Wanyin. Aside from Nie Huaisang’s teasing and the required pleasantries, one could even say that Nie Huaisang was avoiding Sect Leader Jiang.
Let it not be said that Nie Huaisang was without reason. Nearly every choice he made was strategic and meticulous, but when the stakes were low, he did enjoy a good gamble. Nie Huaisang wanted to know just how deep Jiang Wanyin’s self-control ran.
The man had a temper, was almost as volatile as Da-ge was, on a bad day. But he could also be gentle, temperate, restrained. Nie Huaisang knew he had a streak of possessiveness, that his title—the Sandu Shengshou—was not simply a reference to his sword.
Nie Huaisang had enjoyed the presence of Jiang Wanyin’s eyes on his back, more and more heated with each passing day. Over the week his face grew tighter, his voice louder, his fuse shorter. Nie Huaisang waited for him to crack.
His plans ultimately culminated in the form of a wild-eyed man lurking outside of his guest rooms. Nie Huaisang smiled behind his fan as Jiang Wanyin furrowed his brows and reached out for one of his thin wrists, pulling him roughly along the corridors of the Lotus Pier. No one was in sight; all were drunk at the banquet or indisposed themselves, if the sounds coming from Wei Wuxian’s rooms were to be believed.
“Sect Leader Jiang?” He questioned innocently, eyes wide and wondering. Jiang Wanyin’s hold tightened and his steps quickened. “Sect Leader Jiang, what is the meaning of this?”
“You know damned well,” was all Jiang Wanyin said, until he could wrench open the doors of his private quarters and pull Nie Huaisang inside.
Within seconds, he was a caged bird, cornered against the wall. “I’m afraid I really don’t know this time,” Nie Huaisang said, and made his words tremble.
Jiang Wanyin frowned, his face only a few cùn away. Nie Huaisang could feel the sect leader’s breath on his face, smell the sweet rice wine on his words. “Don’t you?” he asked. “What have you been up to, Nie Huaisang?”
Their relationship was as satisfying as it was inappropriate. Nie Huaisang had favored Jiang Wanyin since their younger years, but they had lost contact through the haze of grief and schemes that had clouded the past decade-and-a-half. Now, with nowhere to go but forward, they had drawn close once more, one of nature’s inevitabilities. They were a dance, of swords and painted fans, of power and control, of trust and mistrust.
“Nothing,” Nie Huaisang told him. It was a lie, and Jiang Wanyin was well aware of that. He surged forward and kissed him, hard.
The kiss was a tempest, almost electric given Zidian’s influence. Jiang Wanyin grasped for Nie Huaisang’s waist, and he swore he could feel a jolt through his robes. Nie Huaisang yielded to him, tilted his head and opened his mouth to allow Jiang Wanyin passage. He moaned into the kiss at the taste of Jiang Wanyin’s tongue, but the other man broke away to ask, “what do you want?” His tone was sinful, heady. “I can only imagine, with all your plots. I’m not going to do anything unless you beg.”
Zidian did spark, with those words. “Ah,” Nie Huaisang gasped, his voice an embarrassing keen. The static on Jiang Wanyin’s hands left Nie Huaisang’s skin covered in gooseflesh, the ticklishness radiating from where those hands had moved down to his hips. His fingers gripped at the round flesh of his ass; Jiang Wanyin would leave bruises like that, and just the thought had Nie Huaisang shuddering with a primal sense of need and want. “Please, Jiang Wanyin, don’t be—”
“Did I say you could call me that?” Jiang Wanyin interrupted, and it was, quite possibly, the most arousing thing Nie Huaisang had ever heard. “No respect for your fellow sect leader?”
“Wa—ah,” Nie Huaisang panted, words breaking off as Jiang Wanyin pressed him harder against the wall and started kissing along his neck. The kisses turned easily into quick, sharp bites. “Sect Leader Jiang,” he corrected, and Jiang Wanyin responded by grinding his hips against him. Nie Huaisang revelled in the hardness against his stomach, and spread his legs to accommodate for the taller man.
Jiang Wanyin almost immediately took the initiative to shift his firm grasp to Nie Huaisang’s thighs. Jiang Wanyin drew back, and before Nie Huaisang could complain, he was lifted jerkily and slammed back against the wall. Jiang Wanyin returned to his mouth with the voraciousness of a starved man, and Nie Huaisang’s own erection rubbed painfully against Jiang Wanyin’s pelvis. He wanted so badly to be rid of his robes, which were too heavy, too hot, soon to be drenched in his sweat.
Jiang Wanyin’s hardness prodded at the apex of his thigh, and Nie Huaisang was delirious with desire. This was what he had wanted.
“Why are you smiling,” Jiang Wanyin asked, breaking the string of saliva between their mouths as his lips moved. Nie Huaisang couldn’t look away from their tempting redness. “You had your fun, teasing me in my own home, making me look a fool in front of the other sects. What are you after, Nie Huaisang? I’m still waiting to hear you beg.”
Yes, this was exactly what he’d wanted. “Fuck me, Sect Leader Jiang,” he said. Nie Huaisang fluttered his lashes, commanded wetness to prick at his eyes. He always was a pretty crier. “Please. This one would die if you did not fill him.”
And didn’t that just do the trick? Nie Huaisang’s filthy mouth incited a brilliant vermillion flush upon Jiang Wanyin’s tanned cheeks, and those fierce eyes were clouded with unbridled lust. In an instant, Nie Huaisang had been lifted away from the wall and tossed upon the silks of Jiang Wanyin’s bed. He had no idea how they had crossed the room so quickly.
Jiang Wanyin tugged Nie Huaisang’s robes off with little regard for propriety. They were behind closed doors, in the sect leader’s chambers; why would they need to be proper? Nie Huaisang let his lover’s gaze roam over the expanse of his skin, pale where the sun couldn’t reach it, freckled where it could. Jiang Wanyin loved those freckles, chased them too often with his eyes and lips and tongue for Nie Huaisang not to notice.
“Will you not disrobe?” Nie Huaisang asked him and allowed a rosy flush to spread across his cheeks. He bared his neck, and Jiang Wanyin lunged for it. He sucked marks into it, breath hot as he shook his head in its cradle. No, Jiang Wanyin seemed to say, I asked you to beg.
Nie Huaisang’s breath caught in his throat as Jiang Wanyin frotted against him, the pleasure too wonderful to endure. Nie Huaisang reached down for his own belt, eager to be rid of his pants, but Jiang Wanyin caught his wrists in that bruising grip and pinned his wrists to the bed. “A-ah,” Nie Huaisang gasped, and when Jiang Wanyin looked at him next, there was a determined glint in his eyes. “Sect Leader Jiang.”
“Needy,” Jiang Wanyin admonished, as if he was not just as desirous as Nie Huaisang. The slight rebuke sent a shiver across Nie Huaisang’s skin. “What does this one want?”
Nie Huaisang weakly struggled against Jiang Wanyin’s hold so that he could arch his back, hips angled in such a way that their erections once again brushed. He let out a whimper, and Jiang Wanyin leaned down, ground against him, slotting their hips together. “This one beseeches Sect Leader Jiang, aches for his mercy—”
“Did this one ache for me when he made eyes at Sect Leader Yu?”
“This one always aches for you,” Nie Huaisang whispered, as if it were a precious secret.
Jiang Wanyin did away with his own outer robes, the swathes of rich, violet fabric falling heavily to the ground. Nie Huaisang moved up against him again, and Jiang Wanyin laughed, splendid and sonorous. “I’ll take mercy,” Jiang Wanyin agreed, “I’ll be so merciful that this one will never look at anyone else, ever again.”
Jiang Wanyin slid Nie Huaisang further up the fine bed and knelt between his open legs. Jiang Wanyin palmed at the skin of Nie Huaisang’s chest, sword-calloused and lightning-charged fingertips encircling his nipples, bringing them to stiffness. Nie Huaisang gasped, arched his back once more like a courtesan, his face undoubtedly a sight to behold. His earlier tears lingered on his eyelashes, fell onto his cheeks when Jiang Wanyin took one of those peaks into his mouth. His tongue played Nie Huaisang skillfully, until he was a writhing mess. Jiang Wanyin switched to the other side, suckling him lewdly, and Nie Huaisang wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever.
His hands wandered to Nie Huaisang’s belt and made to pull down his pants. Jiang Wanyin sat back on his heels in order to remove them fully, along with Nie Huaisang’s boots. Nie Huaisang expected him to come back, to continue where he’d left off, but Jiang Wanyin withdrew, got to his feet, made for a set of drawers. When he turned back around, he held a jar of carrageenan. Nie Nuaisang nodded and spread his legs further.
As Jiang Wanyin returned to him, Nie Huaisang took himself in his hand. He was already weeping, his cockhead beaded with fluid. Jiang Wanyin let out a small hiss at the sight and watched for as long as his patience would allow—which was to say—not terribly long. He set the sealed jar aside Nie Huaisang and removed his inner robes, leaving his well-sculpted torso bare. A thick scar bisected his chest, and Nie Huaisang did his best not to linger on it.
“Only I can touch this body,” Jiang Wanyin said, his pupils wide where they had come to focus on Nie Huaisang seeking his own release. He grasped at Nie Huaisang’s hands to remove them, settled them back on the bed, and leaned down to mouth at his stomach. Jiang Wanyin left marks there, everywhere, as he made his way toward Nie Huaisang’s lap.
“Only you,” Nie Huaisang confirmed, resisting the urge to grin. When he looked down, he saw Jiang Wanyin’s face level with his cock.
He blew on the tip, the lightest of sensations, but it still made Nie Huaisang shiver like a maiden, throw his head back in pleasure. Jiang Wanyin encircled its base with his thumb and forefinger and held him tightly. Zidian was a threat, hot and charged against him. When Nie Huaisang looked back down, Jiang Wanyin took Nie Huaisang into his mouth.
He used his teeth lightly, for sensation, and unlike the tremor of Zidian, his mouth was more than inviting. Nie Huaisang let out a mewl, the sounds escaping his lips stoking the starfire in Jiang Wanyin’s eyes. The other man laved the underside of his shaft with that ruthless tongue, and warmth pooled in his belly, and his muscles quivered and tensed. Delirium claimed Nie Huaisang, flushed his mind with the most potent wine.
“Calm yourself,” Jiang Wanyin rasped, before taking him in again. Nie Huaisang tried to jerk deeper into his mouth, a reflex, but his lover steadied him with his free hand and kept going, relentless.
When he was satisfied, after Nie Huaisang let a few more tears free, Jiang Wanyin withdrew with a vulgar, wet sound. The lack of sensation was jarring, the haze of his want abating just a bit. Jiang Wanyin smirked at him, the set of his jaw so handsome Nie Huaisang almost couldn’t bear it. “What does this one want?” he asked, not for the first time.
“Y-your fingers,” Nie Huaisang told him, “and then you.”
“What does this one say?”
“Please,” Nie Huaisang begged. “Please, Sect Leader Jiang.”
Jiang Wanyin let out a soft chuckle as he reached for the lubricant. It had been a while since their last coupling, so Nie Huaisang watched closely, savored every second of it. Jiang Wanyin slicked his fingers with the carrageenan, and returned dutifully to his place between Nie Huaisang’s legs.
The first finger was cold and intrusive, caused Nie Huaisang to furrow his brows in brief displeasure. He focused on the tent in Jiang Wanyin’s pants, and did his best to relax. He took the second finger with dignity, made the small noises of encouragement that he knew Jiang Wanyin so enjoyed. Jiang Wanyin watched him so pointedly that it was almost disconcerting, but the egotist in Nie Huaisang preened under the single-minded attention. Like this, there was no doubt that Jiang Wanyin was his.
He raised one hand to bite when Jiang Wanyin inserted a third finger and began to stretch him further. Jiang Wanyin moved wider, deeper, zealous in his preparation. Nie Huaisang wanted him, wanted him inside, wanted to wrest control and seek his pleasure on Jiang Wanyin’s manhood.
The other’s fingers grazed that spot inside of him, and Nie Huaisang cried out with the sharp pleasure.
Jiang Wanyin withdrew and immediately moved to undo his belt. He shoved his pants down and did not take them off, simply exposed the thickness of his muscled thighs and the hardness of his length. Nie Huaisang moaned at the sight of it. “Please,” he said, unbidden, and Jiang Wanyin obliged him almost fondly, his eyes softening as he took in Nie Huaisang’s ruined state. He took the carrageenan and slicked his cock so that it glistened in the dim candlelight.
“How does this one want to be fucked?” he asked as he lifted Nie Huaisang’s hips for ease of access.
He prodded at Nie Huaisang’s hole, which fluttered greedily for him. “However Sect Leader Jiang wishes,” Nie Huaisang responded, strained.
Jiang Wanyin kissed him again, a mess of breath and teeth and tongue. “I want to see you,” Jiang Wanyin panted into his mouth, and Nie Huaisang nodded quickly, enthusiastically. Nie Huaisang raised his legs to wrap around Jiang Wanyin’s waist, and Jiang Wanyin pushed forward, entered him slowly, even though Nie Huaisang was sure he wanted nothing more than to take him hard and make him his. The strain was bearable, not too painful. Nie Huaisang clenched around him, sucked him in until he was sheathed fully. Jiang Wanyin kissed him and watched him, tangled his fingers in Nie Huaisang’s hair, until he could bear waiting no longer.
“Huaisang,” he shuddered when he moved, breaking their little play, and Nie Huaisang lurched with the awaited in-and-out. “Wanted this all week,” he said.
Nie Huaisang could only breathe as his lover thrust into him, gaining speed as he went, brutal but still tender. He bucked upward, urging Jiang Wanyin further into him. Faster and faster he went, his own noises doing nothing to hide his fervor for their joining. This was what he wanted. He wanted, he did, “so much,” Nie Huaisang confessed.
“Then why did you make me wait?” Jiang Wanyin frowned, snapping his hips forward, hitting that spot, unraveling him at the seams.
“Wanted you to watch,” he said, toes curling, voice breaking. “Wanted you to lose yourself.”
His legs wrapped as tight as they could as Jiang Wanyin’s thrusts became shallower, until he was rutting against him, too overcome to answer properly.
Nie Huaisang felt his release building in his stomach, in all the lines of his body. “Close,” he whimpered, and Jiang Wanyin reached between them to grab at Nie Huaisang’s member, to stroke him to completion. As Nie Huaisang came, he clenched around Jiang Wanyin like a vise. Jiang Wanyin kissed him, and kissed him, and spilled inside.
Curiosity may have killed the cat, but satisfaction was too sweet a death to refuse.