They’re on the couch in Lan Zhan’s living room. Wei Ying is on Lan Zhan’s lap. It is, overall, shaping up to be one of the best nights of Lan Zhan’s week. Lan Zhan grips Wei Ying’s hips, guiding him as he grinds down, and Wei Ying makes a breathy, whiny sound against Lan Zhan’s mouth that Lan Zhan finds very, very hot. He wonders how he can make Wei Ying do it again.
They haven’t really done much together yet. Only hands and mouths. They’re going slow and Lan Zhan worries it’s mostly for his benefit, but he doesn’t know how to bring it up. Which is why it comes as a surprise when, after Lan Zhan moves his hands more firmly over Wei Ying’s ass, Wei Ying gasps, “Fuck. I want you to fuck me.”
Lan Zhan goes still.
Wei Ying draw back sharply.
“You know I don’t—“
“Sorry, I didn’t mean—“
They both stop.
“You go,” Wei Ying almost squeaks. His cheeks are red. He looks about five seconds from combusting but Lan Zhan can tell he’s putting his best effort into listening and communication.
So good, he thinks fondly.
Aloud, he says, “You know I don’t have the…ability. Currently.” His ears are burning. He almost said, factory parts. But Wei Ying knows that already.
Wei Ying is already nodding furiously. “Yeah, yes! No. I mean, I didn’t mean right now.” He waves a hand, which does nothing to stop his deepening flush, then says, “I just meant. You grabbed my ass and it felt really good and I was thinking about riding you and aaaaaauugghhh.” He drops his head onto Lan Zhan’s shoulders, giving up. “It just felt so good and the idea was so hot, my brain just kind of melted.”
“Ah.” Lan Zhan calms down a little. He tightens his grip on Wei Ying’s ass. What can he say? It’s a nice ass. He thinks about Wei Ying riding him. The sounds he would make. The way his back would arch— Lan Zhan swallows. It’s a good image. (Excellent, fantastic, mind-blowing.) He just wishes there was something he could do about it, right now. “I could finger you?” he offers. They haven’t done that before.
“Lan Zhaaaan,” Wei Ying wails. He also grinds down on Lan Zhan’s lap.
Lan Zhan puts his mouth on Wei Ying’s neck, finding the sensitive spot at the junction of his neck and shoulder. “Would you like that?” he asks against Wei Ying’s skin.
Wei Wuxian turns his face into Lan Zhan’s neck. “So good to me, er-gege,” he whispers, hand smoothing over Lan Zhan’s chest and undoing a button. “And how should I reward you?”
Lan Zhan shivers. “With your mouth?”
He can feel it when Wei Ying smiles. “Done.”
Without another word, Lan Zhan scoops Wei Ying up and carries him to the bedroom.
The next night, Wei Ying is sitting at the kitchen table, books spread around him, when Lan Zhan calls over to him from the couch.
“I need your opinion on something.”
Wei Ying stands immediately, glad of the excuse to stop his own work. They tend not to work next to each other when the deadlines are pressing; there are less distractions that way. Lan Zhan has been quietly typing away at his computer since dinner but it’s getting close to his bedtime.
“Need me to read over what you wrote?” Wei Ying asks as he approaches the couch.
“No,” Lan Zhan says as Wei Ying slids into place next to him. “Do you have a size preference?”
“Hah?” Wei Ying asks, uncomprehending, and then he looks at Lan Zhan’s computer screen.
Lots and lots of dildos.
Wei Wuxian feels like his face has been shoved into an open fire. “Lan Zhan!” he yelps. “What are you looking at!”
“Is it not obvious?”
It is. It is so obvious. There are multiple tabs. Different shops, Wei Ying thinks. He covers his face with his hands. “Lan Zhaaaaaan.”
“If you are not comfortable,” Lan Zhan begins stiffly, which is so, so wrong.
“No!” Wei Wuxian waves a hand frantically and only nearly smacks Lan Zhan in the face. “Just give me a moment.” He takes a few deep breaths. He is a goddamn adult. He is in the apartment that he shares with his goddamn boyfriend and no one else. He can look at some dildos without feeling like Auntie Yu is going to burst in at any moment. He takes another deep breath. “You wanted my opinion on…on size?”
“Yes,” Lan Zhan said. “The most common seem to be one and a half and one and three-quarters inches around. And there are different lengths.”
Wei Ying’s insides do a funny little twist. He feels hot all over. Focus, he coaches himself. This is an important conversation. “Um. How big is one and a half inches?”
Lan Zhan pauses, then holds up three fingers together like he had used last night to reduce Wei Wuxian into a begging, pleading mess. “Around this thick, I think.”
Wei Wuxian can’t do this. He snatches Lan Zhan’s hand, curling his palm over Lan Zhan’s fingers until he’s forced to release their shape. “Lan Zhan! How can you say all this with a straight face?”
Lan Zhan smiles a little. “My face is the only straight thing about me.”
Wei Ying splutters a moment before bursting into laughter. He laughs probably more than he should, but he’s nervous, okay? Lan Zhan waits patiently, rearranging their fingers so they’re holding hands. Wei Ying loves him so much.
When he’s done laughing, Wei Ying feels slightly calmer. “So we know one-point-five is good.”
“Mn.” Lan Zhan gives him a considering look. “Are you sure?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Last night,” Lan Zhan says and, oh, Wei Ying can see how red his ears are now. “You kept asking for more.”
Wei Ying gestures with his free hand. “Is this not more?”
Lan Zhan looks at the computer screen, then back at Wei Ying. “You have a size kink,” he clarifies.
Wei Ying does not make a sound like a tea kettle. He retains his composure like a very adulty adult who knows what he likes and isn’t ashamed. “Maybe…a little?” he squeaks. Then he drops his forehead onto Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “Stop perceiving me.” God, the room is boiling.
Lan Zhan squeezes his hand. “Wei Ying. It’s okay. You do not have to be embarrassed.”
Wei Ying hums noncommittally and waits for his face to cool a little. Then he says, “Why are you asking me anyway? Shouldn’t it be about what you want?”
“I want to make you feel good,” Lan Zhan says, like the selfless paragon of virtue he is.
Wei Ying draws back. “Yeah, but I want to make you feel good,” he says seriously. “I want you to look down and say, ‘hell yeah that’s my dick!’ Not ‘god what is this purple monstrosity.’”
It’s finally Lan Zhan’s turn to look away. Even his cheeks are a little flushed now. “I do not mind color,” he says quietly. “I think…to privilege skin tone lookalikes over everything else and end up with something that does not quite match expectations or does not feel good…would be worse.”
Wei Ying exhales. “Okay. Okay. So, no color preferences as of right now, one-point-five minimum, and I’m going to say at least six inches.” His face is burning but he’s doing this. “Do these websites have a filter?”
Lan Zhan relaxes a little. “I already sorted by silicone,” he said. “It is the best material.”
“Cool,” Wei Ying says, reaching over to adjust the settings even more. As it turns out, the filters are very detailed. There are so many options. It’s a bit dizzying.
And more than a little hot. Wei Ying has been half-hard since Lan Zhan demonstrated size with his beautiful, elegant fingers. He shoves his arousal aside. He’s helping his boyfriend choose a dick. It’s very important.
He’s helping his boyfriend choose a dick so he can fuck Wei Ying exactly how Wei Ying wants. Wei Ying is helplessly turned on.
He glances at Lan Zhan, but Lan Zhan’s face shows only calm assessment. Nothing except his blush gives away the fact that he’s shopping for something more interesting than the usual household supplies.
“Ooh, you can sort by harness compatibility,” Wei Ying says when he turns his attention back to the screen. “Do you have a harness picked out?”
Lan Zhan clicks through to another tab. “This one is meant to be very comfortable but it only fits one size.” He clicks another tab. “This one is more customizable but potentially harder to clean.”
Wei Ying stares at the second option. The first had been a bit like underwear but this one is all leather straps. The straps are relatively thin, surprisingly elegant for leather. It has a ring held in place with snaps so that different sizes can be easily swapped out and straps going around the waist and back of the thighs. The thought of Lan Zhan in this harness is doing things to him. The thin, almost delicate lines of it against Lan Zhan’s pale skin… Fuck, he’s probably going to need to jerk off after this. With effort, he pulls his mind out of the gutter and asks, “But is it comfortable? It looks like it might pinch.”
“The reviews say it’s comfortable and all the straps are adjustable as well,” Lan Zhan says. “I would prefer more customizability and…” His voice trails off.
Wei Ying’s ears prick up. “What?” he asks, nudging Lan Zhan playfully. “Come on, Lan Zhan, if I have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known then so do you.”
Lan Zhan takes a second to give him an unimpressed look, then returns to his embarrassed pensiveness. He takes a steadying breath which Wei Ying feels, given how closely they are pressed together. “It leaves everything else…exposed,” he says at last.
Ah. “Do you want to do other things in the harness?” Wei Ying asks lightly, instead of just shouting yes, please! “Other than just fucking me, I mean.”
A pause. Then Lan Zhan nods once, hesitantly.
Wei Ying kisses him on the cheek. “Okay then! Looks like we found your harness.”
Lan Zhan nods again and adds it to his cart. Wei Ying kisses him again. He loves this man so much.
They turn back to the endless array of dildos. It’s a little less endless now that they’ve narrowed down their search criteria.
“Would a rainbow one be too on the nose, do you think?” Wei Ying asks after a moment.
“Mn. I am not sure how the suction cup base is supposed to work with a harness,” Lan Zhan says.
“Oh, true. What about one of the ones with a textured base, do you think that would feel good?”
Wei Ying rests his head on Lan Zhan’s shoulder, nuzzling into him a little. “Lan Zhan! I’m looking for enthusiastic consent. Tell me all your thoughts.” In as graphic and explicit detail as you can, he doesn’t add.
Lan Zhan leans his head against the top of Wei Ying’s, a simple gesture which makes Wei Ying want to clutch at his heart, which feels like it’s bursting under the pressure of so much joy. He holds very still instead, as if Lan Zhan is one of their rabbits. “I think it would feel good,” Lan Zhan says quietly. He clicks to read more information about one of the dildos with a ridged base. “It can fit a vibrator, which is intriguing. It is only one and a half inches though.”
“But nearly six inches long,” Wei Ying points out.
Lan Zhan clicks away. “We can come back to it when we’ve considered all the options.”
They scroll down the page. Wei Ying starts giggling. “Look, Lan Zhan! You could have a tentacle dick!”
Lan Zhan gives the item in question a cool, assessing look. “No.”
Wei Ying laughs even harder. “So dismissive! And I thought you were looking for something big.”
“I am not an octopus.”
Wei Ying grins. “No, you’re right. I don’t even think I could fit that, to be honest.” Might make an interesting fantasy though.
Lan Zhan clicks over to the next shop when they reach the bottom of the page. A lot of the items are the same, with some additions. Wei Ying keeps his head resting on Lan Zhan’s shoulder and Lan Zhan keeps his head leaning against Wei Ying’s as they scroll through all the options and compile a list. There are lots of questions like, “Do you prefer texture or smooth?” “Do you want to be circumcised or uncircumcised?” “Curved or straight?”
Wei Ying’s arousal (one of these is going to go inside him! it’s going to feel so good!) turns into a pleasant background hum. He melts against Lan Zhan, feeling warm as if wrapped in a blanket. Affection spreads through him with each beat of his heart.
He likes this, he realizes. He likes sitting here with Lan Zhan, frankly discussing sex and dildos and all the ways they want each other to feel good. He feels…he feels proud. In a way he never has before.
In the end, they choose two to start with: a six inch dildo with a ridged base and a seven inch long, nearly two inch wide double dildo that makes Wei Ying’s dick twitch just looking at it. Lan Zhan had stared at it for nearly a full minute before selecting it. They also buy a bullet vibe to accompany the first dildo. Wei Ying winces a little at the final price tag, but Lan Zhan doesn’t even blink.
This is important, Wei Ying reminds himself. It’s worth it.
When the last purchase is made, Lan Zhan gives a small, relieved exhale. Wei Ying lifts his head and raises his free hand to turn Lan Zhan’s face to his. “I love you,” he says seriously.
“I love you,” Lan Zhan responds immediately.
Wei Ying kisses him, soft and gentle. They’ve been pressed so close for the last hour or so, it feels more like a continuation than an escalation. Still, it doesn’t take long for Wei Ying’s neglected cock to make its presence known.
“Hey,” he says, leaning back a bit. Lan Zhan follows his mouth, which is so endearing. “How are you feeling on the sex front?”
“What do you mean?”
Wei Ying sighs. “I just want to know how much you wanted to do tonight. I’m turned on but also tired and—god, that makes me sound so boring, who gets tired from looking at sex toys—”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan interrupts. “It’s okay. It is quite late.”
“Late for Lans,” Wei Ying says and then he glances at the clock on Lan Zhan’s laptop. “Ohhh, no, late for me as well.” That explains it.
Lan Zhan smiles.
Wei Ying hits him gently with a fist. “I have been so turned on for hours but now I just kind of want to sleep? I want—” He shuts his mouth abruptly. Opens it again. “No, Lan Zhan, tell me what you want. I don’t want this to be about me.”
Lan Zhan looks at him with a softness on his face that is, frankly, unbearable. Wei Ying’s heart beats wildly. “I am also tired,” Lan Zhan says. “This was…a lot. It was fun. But a lot.”
Wei Ying nods empathetically.
Lan Zhan hesitates, then asks, “Do you still have work to finish?”
“It can wait until morning,” Wei Ying says.
Lan Zhan nods once. He raises their clasped hands, bringing Wei Ying’s knuckles to his lips and placing a kiss there. “We don’t have to do much, or anything, but…come to bed? Hold me?”
Wei Ying smiles so hard it aches. He loves this man so, so much. “Of course, Lan Zhan.”
The toys take a week and a half to arrive. On the night that they had ordered them, they did just enough to get each other off and then Lan Zhan fell asleep with Wei Ying wrapped around him, feeling excited and nervous and ridiculously in love.
He is so lucky to have Wei Ying. It’s incomprehensible sometimes, how happy he is.
The waiting feels electric. Lan Zhan thinks of all the things that could go wrong and then all the things that could go right, on a loop, constantly playing in the back of his mind. They buy gloves and more lube and he fingers Wei Ying open several more times, watching him writhe and moan and imagining what that will look like with Wei Ying on his cock. On his cock.
Lan Zhan knows he should not let his expectations be raised too high, but then he sees the long line of Wei Ying’s throat as he throws his head back in pleasure and he can’t help it.
The day the toys arrive, Lan Zhan is greeted at the door by a grinning Wei Ying, who holds a cardboard box and a plastic mailer in his hands.
“They’re here!” Wei Ying says excitedly. “At least, I’m pretty sure this is them.”
Lan Zhan swallows. He leaves his shoes at the door and makes immediately for the bedroom, Wei Ying trailing behind him. He sets down his bag and then turns to Wei Ying. “We should open them.” His mouth is dry.
Wei Ying hands him a pair of scissors and the plastic mailer. It’s nondescript, nothing to indicate what’s in it but the name of the shop in the return address. Lan Zhan cuts it open and slides out its contents: the harness, wrapped in clear plastic. It looks exactly like the picture: black leather with silver clasps and buckles. The weight of it in his hand makes everything suddenly so much more real.
“I can’t wait to see what it looks like on,” Wei Ying says. He’s looking at the harness with a touch of reverence that makes Lan Zhan’s stomach fill with butterflies.
Lan Zhan clears his throat. “We have to clean it first.”
Wei Ying nods. “Of course.” He hands over the box, biting his lip, but that does nothing to stop the grin spreading across his face. “And the rest.”
Lan Zhan cuts the box open with hands that do not shake. There, nestled in plastic and padding, are his cocks.
That’s what Wei Ying has been calling them. Lan Zhan’s cocks. “When your cocks get here…” followed by strings of filth that make Lan Zhan feel equal parts excited and embarrassed. Lan Zhan pulls them out of the wrapping now, testing their weight in his hands. They look exactly as pictured, two different pale skin-like colors with realistic…texture. The smaller one with the ridged base is firmer; the large double dildo has slightly more give. More lifelike, Lan Zhan thinks, and wonders how he feels about that.
Wei Ying reaches out, tracing a finger down a vein visible on the larger cock. Lan Zhan looks up at his face in time to see him lick his lips.
“I could blow you too, you know,” Wei Ying says. “If you were interested.”
Lan Zhan swallows hard. “Washing first.”
Wei Ying draws his hand back with a sheepish laugh. “I know.”
Lan Zhan heads to the bathroom, not wanting to waste any more time. Wei Ying follows him with a gleeful laugh. “Eager, Lan-er-gege?”
“We will let them dry during dinner,” Lan Zhan replies. He hands one to Wei Ying—the bigger one. He can’t help but smile a little at the way Wei Ying’s eyes light up. He gets it, kind of. Just holding the other in his hand makes his stomach twist pleasantly, wondering what it would feel like inside him. “Do you want to do other things in the harness?” Wei Ying had asked, voice low and soft. “Other than just fucking me, I mean.” But that’s a different conversation, for a different day.
They carefully wash each piece. It’s oddly captivating to watch Wei Ying’s hands clean his cock. Lan Zhan expected the task to be nothing more than a necessary chore but watching Wei Ying’s fingers curve around it’s girth and run up and down its length, working around the egg-like end that would go inside Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan feels…he feels…
“All right, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks quietly.
Lan Zhan breaks his gaze away and turns back to the toy in his own hands, nodding jerkily. He feels flushed from his ears down to his navel. Lower.
Lan Zhan spends the entire time he’s cooking dinner attempting to analyze his emotions. He’s spent the last week and a half trying to prepare himself for this evening, but now that it’s come, nothing feels settled in his mind. His biggest fear, he thinks as he chops vegetables, is that it will feel alienating. That he will put it on and the fact that he cannot feel it—that it is not his—will ruin every other aspect of the experience. He knows the harness is supposed to keep the ridged base pressed against him and there’s a vibrator so he will feel something, but what if it is not enough? What if he doesn’t like it? Hypothetically, the double dildo can be used without a harness, but that one seems even more intimidating. Maybe he should have practiced. Is there such a thing as practicing?
“You okay?” Wei Ying asks, coming up behind him. “You’re quiet.” If Wei Ying were anyone else, he would have said, quieter than usual, but he knows Lan Zhan, so he doesn’t.
It’s the second time Wei Ying has checked in on him tonight and Lan Zhan can’t help feeling a bit frustrated with himself. “I’m just thinking,” he says, reaching for another carrot.
Wei Ying wraps his arms around Lan Zhan’s waist and rests his head on his shoulder. “Sexy thoughts?” he asks.
Lan Zhan sighs. “Nervous thoughts.”
“Hmm.” Wei Ying nuzzles into the crook of Lan Zhan’s neck and places a kiss below his ear. “Can I turn your nervous thoughts into sexy thoughts?”
Lan Zhan loves him. “Not while I’m holding a very large knife,” he says aloud.
He can tell Wei Ying is pouting without seeing it, but Wei Ying draws back all the same. He leans against the counter beside Lan Zhan and watches as he finishes chopping the vegetables. After he’s done, Lan Zhan puts a pan on the stove to preheat.
“So, do you have a preference for which cock you’re going to fuck me with tonight?” Wei Ying asks. Lan Zhan frowns at him, but his stomach does an excited little flip. Wei Ying just laughs. “What? You put down the knife!”
Lan Zhan shakes his head. He checks the rice, which isn’t necessary. Finally, he says, “Yes. The one with the ridged base. Is that okay?”
Wei Ying’s expression softens. “Lan Zhan, it’s your choice.”
“I want to make you feel good.”
“I want to make you feel good,” Wei Ying replies. “Do you think they are two different things?”
Lan Zhan hesitates. “The ridged one is smaller—”
“Oh my god, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying slaps a hand over Lan Zhan’s mouth, then gently removes it. “You’ve got to stop dragging me for my size kink, gege. You know I’ve never been fucked before, right?”
The words make Lan Zhan’s stomach give a pleasant twist. His face feels warm. “Mn.”
Wei Ying lowers his voice seductively, though his cheeks are pink. “I’m sure whatever you give me will keep me satisfied.” He winks, badly.
Lan Zhan wants to grab him, pull his head back, and bite his neck. He checks the pan on the stove instead. “Mark your words.”
“Marked! So the ridged one,” Wei Ying says. “That one has a space for a bullet vibe, right?”
“Mn.” Lan Zhan tips the garlic and ginger into the pan.
Wei Ying grins. “Bet that will feel good.” He tilts his head. “Do you think I’ll be able to feel it too?”
Lan Zhan hadn’t considered that. “We don’t have to use it if you—”
“What? No, no! Of course we’re using it.” Wei Ying wraps his arms back around Lan Zhan and hooks his chin over his shoulder. “I want you to get off on fucking me, gege.”
Lan Zhan’s ears burn. He is much too hot. He adds the vegetables to the pan. “I am fairly certain I will get off either way,” he says, voice steadier than he feels. He doesn’t voice any of the ifs that follow in his head. If I’m not freaked out by it. If I feel anything. If I like it at all.
Wei Ying makes a frustrated sound. “But I don’t want you to just get off. I want you to—I just want—I just want it to be really good. For you.”
Lan Zhan turns away from the stove—irresponsible, says a voice in the back of his head—pushes Wei Ying back against the opposite counter, and kisses him. He kisses hard, wondering if Wei Ying can feel how fast his heart is beating when they’re pressed this close. Wei Ying’s startled reaction dies against Lan Zhan’s lips and Wei Ying melts into it, pulling Lan Zhan even closer by the hips. Lan Zhan is very nervous but he is also, he realizes now, really fucking turned on. He resists the urge to take it further, pulling back after only a minute to look Wei Ying in the eyes.
“I’m going to fuck you,” he says and sees it when Wei Ying’s pupils dilate. “I’m going to watch you ride me for the first time. I promise you I will enjoy it. And if I don’t,” he adds, realizing he’s saying this as much to himself as to Wei Ying, “we’ll figure it out. We have before.”
“Uh-huh.” Wei Ying pulls him back in for another kiss, this one open-mouthed and lingering. It might actually be two kisses. Lan Zhan loses track. So does Wei Ying. “Do we really need dinner?” he murmurs against Lan Zhan’s lips.
It is with great effort that Lan Zhan breaks the kiss and pulls away. “Yes. Stop distracting me.”
Wei Ying pretends to pout but it turns into a laugh. “But Lan Zhan! I turned your nervous thoughts into sexy ones, right?”
Lan Zhan kisses him once more.
Their dinner is only slightly singed.
Wei Ying plays music while he does the dishes. He says it’s the only way he can make the task interesting. He turns it all into a dance, sometimes singing along if he knows the words, and mumbling along when he doesn’t.
Lan Zhan watches him from the table, fully aware that his face is doing something Lan Xichen had once told him looked besotted. Lan Zhan doesn’t care. He watches Wei Ying do a little shimmy in his black joggers and tries to have patience.
He makes it until Wei Ying has pulled off his dish washing gloves and is washing his hands. Then Lan Zhan rises from the table and makes his way over, pulling Wei Ying into his chest.
“Excited, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks, his voice teasing.
“Mn. I want to dance with you.”
“Oh, is that what they’re calling it nowadays?” Wei Ying reaches for a towel to dry his hands, then spins in Lan Zhan’s arms to face him.
Lan Zhan takes ahold of Wei Ying’s hand and waist, waltzing posture, which is totally inappropriate for the pop music that Wei Ying has blasting from his phone. “You are beautiful when you dance.”
“Okay, I can’t tell if that’s innuendo or if you’re genuinely being a sap,” Wei Ying says, letting Lan Zhan spin him around to the beat of an unfamiliar pop song.
“Can’t it be both?”
“Lan Zhaaan.” Wei Ying ducks his head down to rest on Lan Zhan’s shoulder. Lan Zhan keeps them moving, their knees bumping and feet stumbling over each other, but still dancing. The song fades out and Wei Ying lifts his head. “Okay, but seriously, gege. I want you to dance with me.” He waggles his eyebrows obnoxiously.
Lan Zhan can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Hm.” He pushes Wei Ying back against the fridge. “Like this?” He presses a kiss beneath Wei Ying’s ear.
Wei Ying sighs happily. “Yeah.”
“And this?” More kisses.
“Yeah.” Wei Ying tilts his head back. He slides his hand into Lan Zhan’s hair, holding him there.
“What about—” Lan Zhan bites down, just like he’d wanted to earlier.
Wei Ying gasps and his body jerks against Lan Zhan’s. Lan Zhan grabs him by the hips, pullling them flush together and pressing a knee between Wei Ying’s legs. Wei Ying makes a soft whimpering sound. “Okay, Lan Zhan, okay.” He loops his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck. “Kiss me?”
Lan Zhan does. There is no stove to watch this time so he takes his time, kissing Wei Ying until they have to break apart and gasp for air.
“Fuck,” Wei Ying breathes. “Okay. Take me to bed, gege?”
They retrieve the ridged dildo and harness from the bathroom. Lan Zhan’s heart skips an anxious, excited beat in his chest.
Wei Ying wraps his arms around Lan Zhan and kisses him the moment they’re through the bedroom door. Lan Zhan stumbles a bit—his hands are still occupied—and Wei Ying laughs before letting Lan Zhan go. He shuts the door and starts swiftly removing his own clothing.
“Let me,” Lan Zhan says, setting the dildo and harness on the bed and reaching for Wei Ying’s pants. He pulls Wei Ying in by the waistband and kisses him.
“Sneaky,” Wei Ying says against his lips, hands searching for the edges of Lan Zhan’s sweater.
They make quick work of undressing and then Wei Ying is sitting back on the bed—naked, legs spread, looking better than all the paintings in the Louvre—as Lan Zhan figures out how to wear the harness.
He turns the vibrator on and slides it into the dildo. Then he slides the dildo through the ring opening. He holds it against himself, right on top of his own small cock. Then he realizes he should have, perhaps, done up some of the straps after washing it to make it easier to fasten on. He doesn’t have enough hands for this.
“Do you want some help?” Wei Ying asks.
“Please,” Lan Zhan says. He tries not to feel embarrassed. He’s been trans his whole life. Part of him feels like he should just know how to do this, even though that’s ridiculous.
Wei Ying’s hands on him are gentle and not at all patronizing. He slides the straps between Lan Zhan’s legs, positioning and buckling them closed. His eyes hold the same heat as when he undressed Lan Zhan, the same eager anticipation. His touch lingers on Lan Zhan’s hips and inner thighs.
“That tight enough?” he asks and Lan Zhan nods, breathing heavy. The vibrations feel pleasant—there, but not overwhelming. The weight of the dildo and the sight of it, sticking out and proud from his body, is quietly thrilling.
Wei Ying’s fingers wrap gently around the base, pressing it harder against him. “Is that positioned right, does it feel good?”
“Yes.” Lan Zhan’s voice comes out breathless.
Wei Ying gives him a few slow strokes, putting pressure on the down stroke. The sensation surprises Lan Zhan with how good it is and the sight of Wei Ying’s hand on him is riveting. Lan Zhan grinds himself into Wei Ying’s fist, feeling himself growing wet and slick behind the harness.
“You look so good.” Wei Ying’s dark eyes flicker from his cock to his face and back. He sways forward, nuzzling his face against the base.
Lan Zhan inhales sharply. “Wei Ying.”
“Wait a moment,” Wei Ying breathes. “Just let me…” He turns his head, laying kisses along the length. Lan Zhan’s pulse thunders in his ears. Wei Ying reaches the tip, glances up at Lan Zhan through his lashes, then takes the head into his mouth. Lan Zhan makes a whimpering sound he didn’t previously believe himself capable of making.
Emboldened, Wei Ying takes more of him into his mouth, using his hand to press against the base. Lan Zhan is transfixed, watching Wei Ying’s mouth stretch around his cock and his lips turn red and wet. It’s different from the previous times Wei Ying has gone down on him, but Wei Ying approaches the task with the same relish, occasionally flicking his eyes up to Lan Zhan in a way that makes Lan Zhan’s skin hot.
“Fuck, it’s bigger than I expected,” Wei Ying says after he pulls off with a gasp. “I think I can—” He goes down again, further. Lan Zhan feels the impact when his cock hits the back of Wei Ying’s throat. Wei Ying moans, eyes closed. The sound of it travels up Lan Zhan’s spine like lightning.
Lan Zhan has to take ahold of Wei Ying’s hair, pulling gently. Wei Ying moans again, but Lan Zhan pulls harder, until Wei Ying comes off his cock with a whine. “I’ll come,” Lan Zhan explains, breathless. He’s thrilled by the nearness of it, his cunt throbbing behind the harness.
“Good,” Wei Ying replies, sounding just as breathless. His mouth and chin are shiny with spit now, as is Lan Zhan’s cock.
Wei Ying pouts a little, then says, “Okay.” He glances back down at Lan Zhan’s cock, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. His eyes are alight with that familiar hunger. “Okay. You ready?”
Lan Zhan smiles, a little helpless. “Mn.”
Wei Ying scoots backwards onto the bed and Lan Zhan climbs on after him. Wei Ying pulls him down into a kiss against the pillows, lips wet and mouth open. Lan Zhan can still taste a little of the chili oil Wei Ying had poured over his vegetables at dinner. The burn is not unpleasant—it’s even a little arousing. It’s lucky his cock is made of silicon, though. That would have been an unpleasant burn.
A laugh rises in his chest and he tries to suppress it against Wei Ying’s lips, but Wei Ying must feel it. He draws back, looking at the smile on Lan Zhan’s face with puzzlement even as an answering smile begins to grow on his own. “What?”
Lan Zhan shakes his head, hiding his face against Wei Ying’s neck.
“What?” Wei Ying says again and Lan Zhan can’t help a small breath of laughter. It must be the nerves. He presses his mouth to the hinge of Wei Ying’s jaw. Wei Ying strokes a hand through his hair, down his back. “Are you laughing at me? I didn’t even try this time, er-gege, you have to tell me what I did.”
“You taste good,” Lan Zhan tells him. “Like chili oil.”
Wei Ying gives him a baffled look. “You are so weird. I adore you.”
“I adore you.”
“Lan Zhan! You can’t just say things like that—”
Lan Zhan shuts him up with a kiss. Wei Ying makes a muffled sound of protest and then kisses back eagerly. Lan Zhan buries one hand in Wei Ying’s hair and slides the other down his chest. Wei Ying’s hands come up, fingers digging into Lan Zhan’s shoulder blades. The sting is sweet. Lan Zhan opens his mouth to let his teeth catch against Wei Ying’s swollen lips.
Wei Ying breaks the kiss with a small oof and Lan Zhan jerks back, realizing that he’s just stabbed Wei Ying in the stomach with his new cock. “Sorry,” Lan Zhan says but Wei Ying just laughs, head thrown back, neck exposed.
Wei Ying has always been an enthusiastic lover. The first time they had sex, Lan Zhan was a mess of nerves, but Wei Ying touched him without hesitation, without a hint that he found Lan Zhan’s body strange or lacking. Every time after as been the same but it never ceases to fill Lan Zhan with love and wonder.
Now, Wei Ying just says, “Happy to see me, gege?”
Lan Zhan almost rolls his eyes. Instead he says, “Always,” with complete sincerity, just to watch the way Wei Ying splutters and turns red.
While Wei Ying recovers, Lan Zhan turns his attention to Wei Ying’s chest. He sucks a mark onto Wei Ying’s collarbone and then moves down, scraping his teeth gently over Wei Ying’s nipple. Wei Ying’s protests turn into soft moans. Lan Zhan teases his other nipple with his fingers, making Wei Ying squirm.
When Lan Zhan has sucked and licked Wei Ying’s nipples into hardened points, Wei Ying tugs on his hair, pulling him back into a kiss. Lan Zhan moves his hand down and Wei Ying’s stomach jumps slightly under his touch—Wei Ying is always a little ticklish. Lan Zhan lightens his touch purposefully, just so he can feel it when Wei Ying laughs against his lips.
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says through his laughter, breaking away. “Stop that!”
“Mn.” Lan Zhan is unrepentant.
“This is bullying! You’re bullying me! That’s it!” Wei Ying pushes Lan Zhan over and climbs on top of him. “I demand reparations.”
Lan Zhan gazes up at him indulgently. “What would you like?”
Wei Ying laughs again. “I think you know the answer to that.”
Lan Zhan pushes himself backwards so he’s leaning against the pillows. Wei Ying kneels over his thighs and their cocks brush. A little shiver goes through Wei Ying when it happens. His gaze on Lan Zhan feels as hot as a touch, lighting Lan Zhan up inside.
Lan Zhan grabs the lube and a glove from the bedside table. He’s spent the last week and a half opening Wei Ying up on his fingers—his very familiar with the whole process and, he likes to think, rather good at it. This was the position they tried the first time, after Wei Ying’s inadvertent confession, and Lan Zhan still remembers how Wei Ying looked falling apart in his lap. He wants to see it again.
Wei Ying skims his hands over Lan Zhan’s chest, thankfully not ticklish, as Lan Zhan pulls on the glove. “Do I have a medical kink if I find that hot?” he asks.
Lan Zhan raises an eyebrow at him. “I think you just like what comes after.”
“Fair,” Wei Ying replies, his voice going breathy as Lan Zhan lubes up and reaches between his legs.
Lan Zhan goes slow, even though he knows Wei Ying likes it hard and fast. Wei Ying is impatient, urging Lan Zhan faster when he has only two fingers in. Lan Zhan ignores his pleas—which is something of a delight in itself—and reigns in his own nervous desire to rush. Slowly and carefully said all the advice online. And they are working up to something bigger than fingers.
“Lan Zhaaaan,” Wei Ying groans, falling forward so that his forehead rests on Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “Come on, please, I’m ready, please.”
Lan Zhan ignores him but he does widen his fingers—three now—experimentally. Wei Ying moans and presses back into his hand. Lan Zhan adds more lube and purposefully angles away from Wei Ying’s prostate.
“Lan Zhan! Fucking—tease—Lan Zhaaaan…” Wei Ying hits his hand against Lan Zhan’s chest a couple times, too soft to hurt. He fucks himself back onto Lan Zhan’s hand, whining.
“Patience,” Lan Zhan says, just to hear Wei Ying’s protesting groan.
Wei Ying turns his face into the crook of Lan Zhan’s neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses there. “Sweetheart….darling…” His words are hots gusts of breath against Lan Zhan’s oversensitive skin. “Give it to me please…” His hand drops to Lan Zhan’s cock. He strokes the length of it, jerking Lan Zhan off with slow, methodical movements. He’s more determined that he was before. Lan Zhan can’t help a small gasp as the vibrating, ridged base rubs against him just right. His pulse pounds between his legs, against the base. Wei Ying’s hand moves on his cock and he can feel it, the answering friction and pressure and pleasure. His stomach fills with a delicious mixture of arousal and euphoria, so good he doesn’t realize he’s gone still until Wei Ying kisses his open mouth.
“Come on, Lan-er-gege,” he whispers against Lan Zhan’s mouth, lips curling into a mischievous grin. “Ready?”
Lan Zhan nods jerkily, coming out of his daze. He discards the glove and reaches towards the bedside again, for something he’s never used on himself before. He tears open the condom package with hands that are slightly unsteady. Technically, the condom is only here to make clean up easier. But he can’t deny the little thrill of excitement he gets rolling it on. Then he covers his cock in even more lube, relishing the feeling of moving it against himself with his own hand.
His face must show how good it feels because Wei Ying giggles a little and bats his hand away. “My turn.” He shifts forward, holding himself over Lan Zhan’s cock. He grabs the base, guiding it, then carefully sinks down.
As the tip enters him, Wei Ying gasps, then gives a high-pitched moan. He sinks down further and his mouth opens, his eyes going hazy. “God. Fuck.” He sinks down even lower. “Lan Zhan.”
“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan asks, unable to keep an edge of anxiety from his voice.
“Shh—no, don’t shh—sorry I’m just concentrating—” Wei Ying flails a hand, then grips Lan Zhan’s bicep hard. “It’s so much bigger—you’re so big—”
“Does it hurt?”
“No, no, no, Lan Zhan, it’s so deep, feels so, so--” Wei Ying laughs, then moans, then laughs again. Lan Zhan is transfixed on his face, flushed with laughter and exertion. “Fuck, Lan Zhan, it’s so good. You were so right. Put your hands--” He takes Lan Zhan’s hands himself, putting them on his hips. Lan Zhan gets the hint, guiding Wei Ying the rest of the way down. Wei Ying lets out a high keening moan and Lan Zhan’s grip tightens involuntarily. “Yes, yes, yes,” Wei Ying chants. “Fuck, fuck, help me, Lan Zhan.”
Lan Zhan doesn’t know what he means exactly, but he guesses, lifting Wei Ying’s hips until he slides off his cock a few inches, then pushes him back down. Wei Ying makes another high-pitched sound, gripping Lan Zhan’s bicep again. “Yes, like that.”
Lan Zhan guides Wei Ying up again, then down, up, then down, until Wei Ying takes over himself. It takes him a minute to find a rhythm. Wei Ying seems drunk with it, limbs uncoordinated, but pleasure is evident in every line of his body. His thighs flex beautifully as he drives himself onto Lan Zhan’s cock, little gasps and moans falling from his lips. He pulls Lan Zhan in and they kiss until Wei Ying breaks off, panting against Lan Zhan’s mouth.
“Fuck, if this is what six inches feels like, seven is going to break me.”
He’s just as gorgeous as Lan Zhan thought he would be—even more so. Lan Zhan can’t get enough—the arch of Wei Ying’s back beneath his hands, the way Wei Ying shakes his hair back out of his face, the rock of his hips as he seeks the right spot and the moan when he finds it.
Wei Ying laughs again, breathlessly. “Lan Zhan, I can feel the vibrations. I thought maybe, it was just my mouth— Can you feel it? Does it feel good?”
“Yes.” Each time Wei Ying rolls his hips, the base moves against Lan Zhan. It’s imprecise—imperfect—but it feels good. He wants to push his hips up, into the feeling, but he holds back. He lets Wei Ying set the pace. He’s so beautiful. Lan Zhan runs his hands over Wei Ying’s thighs, up past his hips to his waist, then back down. His fingers greedily seek out the entrance where Wei Ying is spread around his cock.
Maybe Lan Zhan can’t feel how tight Wei Ying is but he can feel each movement. The vibrating base grinds against him to the rhythm of Wei Ying’s hips. Lan Zhan can feel his small cock beneath it, hard and wet. And he has Wei Ying falling apart in his lap, right where he wanted him.
Lan Zhan spreads Wei Ying’s cheeks, fingers exploring the joining of their bodies. Wei Ying gasps as he sinks back down. “Lan Zhan.”
Experimentally, Lan Zhan pushes his hips up.
Wei Ying inhales sharply, then says, “Harder.”
Lan Zhan tries again. It’s a bit of a tricky movement, sitting as he is.
“Harder,” Wei Ying repeats, a bit of a whine in his voice.
Lan Zhan slides down a bit, getting his feet flat on the bed. When he next thrusts up, Wei Ying gasps. Still, he repeats, urgently, “Harder.” His eyes have a wild look in them.
Lan Zhan tries again, and again, until Wei Ying gasps, “Yes, there.” A thrill goes through Lan Zhan. He thrusts again and god, this actually feels wonderful, pushing into Wei Ying and watching his body jerk and his eyes roll. A particularly hard thrust unbalances Wei Ying a bit and his hand comes down hard on the headboard above Lan Zhan. The sound of it makes Lan Zhan’s cunt clench, heat traveling up through his veins. He thrusts again and Wei Ying hangs on, using the leverage to push himself back onto Lan Zhan’s cock. Wei Ying’s mouth hangs open, lips wet and red.
Lan Zhan has to kiss him. It’s hard to coordinate, their teeth clack, but the next time Wei Ying moans Lan Zhan can taste it and that’s all that matters. They’ve had sex before but never like this, bodies working so hard Lan Zhan feels like he’s been running, sweat dampening their skin. Wei Ying is as hot as a furnace against him, his cock dripping precome onto Lan Zhan’s stomach.
“Lan Zhan-ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying pants. “’S so good, I’m gonna come, you have to—wait—”
“Why,” Lan Zhan pants. He has a hold on Wei Ying’s hips, keeping him in place as Wei Ying gets increasingly boneless.
“Are you close?” Wei Ying’s voice is fraying around the edges. “I want you to come—come in me—but I don’t think I can—” He drops his head to Lan Zhan’s shoulder and moans, soul-deep and desperate.
The sound sends lightning crackling through Lan Zhan’s veins. He finds himself moaning in answer—he is close, he thinks he could come just from this, from the sounds Wei Ying’s making. “I’ll come. Wei Ying.” His name is a groan. Lan Zhan reaches between them and finds Wei Ying’s cock. “You first, I want to see…”
“Lan Zhaaan. Please, please, please…” Wei Ying fucks himself back very hard once, twice, and Lan Zhan tightens his fist on Wei Ying’s cock. Wei Ying comes with a shout, which turns into a moan, which he muffles against Lan Zhan’s shoulder.
Lan Zhan can feel his own orgasm coming, tingles in his fingers and toes, almost there. It just takes one more thrust upward to push Lan Zhan over the edge. He comes with a surprised gasp, pleasure rolling through him. He goes boneless himself, releasing his grip on Wei Ying. They lay there, panting like they’ve just run a marathon.
Wei Ying presses a kiss to Lan Zhan’s chest when Lan Zhan goes still. “Mmm, did you come?” he mumbles. Lan Zhan nods. “Good boy.” Another shudder of pleasure goes through Lan Zhan.
Another few moments pass. Then Wei Ying pulls himself off with a groan, collapsing on the bed next to Lan Zhan. They’re still pressed so close together that Lan Zhan can feel Wei Ying’s heart racing.
Lan Zhan is still feeling the aftershocks, his cunt clenching every few seconds as his heart rate calms and the sweat dries. The vibrator is still on. It takes him a minute to summon the strength and coordination to wrestle the harness off, before it gets to be too much.
Next to him, Wei Ying groans in a very satisfied way and then giggles. “Fuck, that was so good, gege. Was it good? For you?” He groans again, looking very fucked out.
Lan Zhan gazes at Wei Ying, smiling helplessly. There’s an elated feeling expanding inside his chest like the rising sun. “Wei Ying. It was wonderful.” The happiness he’s feeling is almost shocking in its strength, a bright mess of euphoria and love for Wei Ying spilling over all his boundaries. He might be grinning. His cheeks ache slightly.
Wei Ying stares at him, his eyes wide and shining. He puts his hand gently on Lan Zhan’s cheek. “Gege.”
Ah, Lan Zhan thinks. I am smiling then.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says and kisses him, hard. “You can’t look at me like that,” he says, now scattering kisses all over Lan Zhan’s face. “I want you to smile like that every day. If I had know fucking me would do it—every day, Lan Zhan, I want to make you this happy every day—”
Lan Zhan catches Wei Ying’s hand and presses a kiss to his palm. “Wei Ying. You do make me happy like this every day.”
“Lan Zhaaaan,” Wei Ying wails.
“I love you,” Lan Zhan says.
Wei Ying hits his chest lightly with a fist and sniffs. “I love you, too.”
Lan Zhan draws Wei Ying into another kiss, this one soft and slow; a denouement. They should clean up soon, but Lan Zhan wants to lay here a little longer, basking with his lover in his arms. Wei Ying seems to agree and they trade kisses for several long, glorious minutes.
Eventually, Wei Ying breaks away and says, “Hey, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan.”
“You have a superpower.”
Lan Zhan raises a questioning eyebrow.
Wei Ying giggles. “No refractory period.”
Lan Zhan’s cheeks warm slightly. “…Mn.”
“Isn’t that cool, Lan Zhan? I’m kind of jealous.” Wei Ying laughs.
Lan Zhan gives him an assessing look. “Wei Ying. Do you…want to go again?”
Wei Ying turns red. “Maybe?”
Lan Zhan does roll his eyes this time. “Ridiculous.” He pulls Wei Ying into another kiss anyway.