Work Text:
When Jiang Cheng is fifteen, Wei Wuxian notices how the planes of his shidi’s stomach have grown firm and defined from practice, how his shoulders have broadened from years of swimming and yet his waist remains delicate, how his shidi lets out a breathy sigh from behind the screen as he lowers himself into a hot water bath at the end of a long day of practice. The bad habits: the rucking up of his robes to wipe at his sweat on a hot day, the swimming naked in the lakes surrounding Lotus Pier, the refusal to put on anything but his translucent-white inner robes after a bath — they’re all catching up to Wei Wuxian now, the slivers of bare, dewy skin that light a warmth in his gut.
What Wei Wuxian is trying to say is that Jiang Cheng has become downright irresistible — that Jiang Cheng has become something Wei Wuxian can no longer ignore, because he’s fierce and majestic in the day while they practise and yet still crawls into Wei Wuxian’s bed at night and calls him A-Ying with those dark eyes of his, heavy as miasma, and that pretty, pretty mouth.
So when Jiang Cheng seeks him out after night falls and asks him for help, after the candles are blown out and Lotus Pier falls into its nightly silence (never truly silent: Yunmeng bustles along, sounds of business still echoing along the piers), ears glowing red and lip caught between his teeth, Wei Wuxian can’t find it in himself to turn him down.
“A-Xian, Huaisang sent me something but I don’t understand what,” he says as soon as Wei Wuxian opens the door and practically shoves the piece of paper into his face, Wei Wuxian takes the paper Jiang Cheng gave him and squints, trying to read under the moonlight, and sees the outline of entangled legs and joined mouths. He makes out the shapes of two figures, one draped over the other, hair undone and cascading over the pair, sees—
Oh, it’s two men that A-Cheng wanted him to see, and with a burst of spiritual energy he lights a single candle to see the picture in its entirety. It’s a tasteful image (as expected of Huaisang) of two men casually within each other’s embrace, the smiles on their faces gentle and carefree, their cocks rutting against each other in a lazy slide, hands intertwined, Jiang Cheng’s sword-calloused hand in his, Jiang Cheng’s pretty cock against his, A-Cheng’s fluttering hole tightening around Wei Wuxian as he grinds into—
“A-Xian?” Jiang Cheng’s looking at him now with a confused expression on his face, and in the candlelight his eyelashes almost cast a shadow on his cheeks, makes him look even prettier. Belatedly, he realises that he’s crumpled the side of the paper and hastily tries to smooth it out, tries to act normal and not like his cock is ridiculously hard beneath his robes. “What’s wrong?” And A-Cheng, the sweetheart, brings his hand to Wei Wuxian’s cheek and Wei Wuxian flinches like he’s burned.
The look on A-Cheng's face when he drops his hand makes him hate himself instantly.
“Ah, Jiang Cheng, this is— how do I say this? You know how you will have a wife in the future?” Something in Jiang Cheng’s face shutters, but he nods obediently. “These two are husbands to each other, so they do things that husband and wife do.” It’s such a terrible explanation, but Jiang Cheng seems curious nonetheless, so he pushes on. “Like making love. Sex.” As soon as the word falls out of Wei Wuxian’s mouth, Jiang Cheng’s cheeks flush a dark red (and he wonders how far the flush extends, and doesn’t that just do wonders for his still-hard dick), and Wei Wuxian expects him to drop it and go to sleep so he can rub one out in relative peace.
But instead, Jiang Cheng — prudish, innocent Jiang Cheng — asks, “How?”
A-Cheng — precious A-Cheng — asks Wei Wuxian how two men have sex.
And Wei Wuxian contemplates just not telling him, or asking him to ask Nie Huaisang for the details, or just giving him a clinical explanation so his dick can rest in peace, he really does. He’s not entirely irrational, he’s not thinking with his dick. But Jiang Cheng is willing despite the colour in his cheeks and ears, dressed in only his inner robes, eyes blown from the darkness, and Wei Wuxian can only see in his mind the trails of water that drip off his precious shidi whenever he climbs out of the lakes and onto the piers, the slender curve of his spine.
“A-Cheng, I can show you,” he says, but it’s hoarse. “Let your shixiong show you?” He presses closer to Jiang Cheng and belatedly realises that the door to his room isn’t closed yet, still open from when Jiang Cheng slunk into his room, but can’t care enough to not snake an arm around Jiang Cheng’s tiny waist.
“Ah— I— A-Xian,” Jiang Cheng shudders at the touch, but his ears flush even redder and the hands Jiang Cheng puts on Wei Wuxian’s chest don’t exert any force to try and push him away.
“Let me take care of you, A-Cheng,” Wei Wuxian reaches over with his other hand to push the door closed, caging Jiang Cheng in; like this, he shifts his leg in between Jiang Cheng’s and relishes the choked gasp that falls from his mouth. Like this, their mouths are almost touching but not quite, and Wei Wuxian murmurs again, “Won’t you let me take care of you, shidi?”
A heartbeat. Two. Jiang Cheng seems to freeze entirely, and then slowly nods. “Ye—”
He doesn’t finish his sentence because Wei Wuxian surges forward to devour Jiang Cheng’s mouth entirely, and his lips are so soft, and Wei Wuxian nibbles on his bottom lip so Jiang Cheng opens his mouth and lets Wei Wuxian take and take and take, and Jiang Cheng is gasping into the kiss like he’s never been kissed before and he’s not sure what to do with his body or his breathing. Kissing Jiang Cheng is like a literal dream because his eyes go glassy and he turns pliant in Wei Wuxian’s hands, and he looks down to see Jiang Cheng’s hips rutting into his leg, feeling his hot length press up against layers of cloth.
“A-Ying,” Jiang Cheng huffs as he slumps against the door, “couldn’t breathe.” His breaths come out in pants, and he’s leaning his entire weight on the door and Wei Wuxian’s grip on his waist, lips swollen red and eyes unfocused. Jiang Cheng looks absolutely wrecked from one kiss and a surge of pride wells up in his chest at the fact that he did this to Jiang Cheng.
“I’ll teach you how to breathe when you kiss, okay? Up for me, A-Cheng,” and Wei Wuxian’s moving his hands to grab under Jiang Cheng’s ass (soft and heavenly) and Jiang Cheng wordlessly wraps his arms and legs around Wei Wuxian. Like this, it’s so obvious that both of them are hard: Jiang Cheng’s erection sandwiched between the two of them, Wei Wuxian’s at Jiang Cheng’s ass. Wei Wuxian lowers him onto the bed and watches as Jiang Cheng scowls from the babying. “Good boy, A-Cheng,” Wei Wuxian lowers his voice slightly and ruffles Jiang Cheng’s hair and Jiang Cheng’s tightened fists go pliant and loose again. “You’re beautiful, doing so well. My A-Cheng has always been so good, hasn’t he?”
The whine that the praise draws out of his throat is nothing short of melodious. And Wei Wuxian looks, for the first time this night, at just how wrecked Jiang Cheng is already, front of his robes torn open, held together just by the sash at his waist, leaving next to nothing to the imagination. “A-Cheng, take your robes off? I want to see you, see your beautiful body, did you know how tempting you looked swimming in the lake today? I wanted to jump in after you, put my hands on you—”
“Wei Ying!” Jiang Cheng gasps, sharp and heaving, as Wei Wuxian tears at his robes, leaving him bare.
“Oh, Jiang Cheng, beautiful, so so pretty,” Wei Wuxian murmurs as he runs his hands up and down Jiang Cheng’s milky thighs, taking in the muscles that flex at his touch. Jiang Cheng can’t do much but hiss and tug at Wei Wuxian’s own robes until they fall off his shoulders, and then he’s hooking his legs around his waist and arching up into his front, mouth falling open in a wordless moan that Wei Wuxian swallows with another greedy kiss. After that, he can’t get rid of his own clothes soon enough, and it’s a moment before they’re both fully naked in Wei Wuxian’s bed. Jiang Cheng, naked in Wei Wuxian’s bed.
Wei Wuxian wonders if Madame Yu will whip him for corrupting her son.
“A-Xian, what do I…” Jiang Cheng’s looking at him with half-lidded eyes, words fumbling, and Wei Wuxian realises that Jiang Cheng has never been involved with anyone, so all this pleasure must feel so foreign — even though he himself is a virgin, he’s never shied away from all those yellow books Huaisang passes around, never felt ashamed for giving in to carnal pleasures.
But Jiang Cheng, heir to Yunmeng Jiang, son of Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan, a naturally shy and diligent boy of just fifteen — has probably never felt anything like this. It gives Wei Wuxian a heady rush, one that floods his veins and pools in his gut.
“A-Cheng, can I touch you here?” Wei Wuxian reaches to brush his dry fingertips against Jiang Cheng’s hole, and Jiang Cheng shudders, pupils blown wide. “I need to stretch you to take me, you’d be so good,” he continues that feather-light touch on the inside of his thighs, ghosting Jiang Cheng’s cock, pressing just a little harder on his perineum, until Jiang Cheng is gasping for more or mercy, he can’t tell.
“A-Ying, shixiong, ah, please,” and Wei Wuxian rummages with one hand for the vial of oil he keeps in one of his drawers, the one that smells vaguely of lotus. He doesn’t want to hurt Jiang Cheng, of course, so he has to go slow, but it is tempting to slick himself up and press into that tiny furl, pink and inviting, just to see Jiang Cheng try to accommodate the stretch.
“Jiang Cheng, touch me too,” Wei Wuxian coaxes, guiding Jiang Cheng’s hand from where it’s curled into the sheets to wrap around his length. “Don’t you want to make your shixiong feel good?” Jiang Cheng hesitantly wraps his fingers around Wei Wuxian’s cock. Wei Wuxian can feel his calluses from practising sword forms since he could even hold a sword, the delicious friction, and instinctively bucks up into the touch.
Jiang Cheng’s eyes go wide. “You— you won’t fit, Wei Ying, it’ll hurt,” he scrambles, but doesn’t let go of his cock — in fact, he’s gripping it a little tighter now. “You’ll tear me!”
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, I won’t put it in today,” Wei Wuxian soothes, running firm hands up and down Jiang Cheng’ sides. “We’re just going to stretch you with my fingers first, right? My amazing A-Cheng,” he says and coats his fingers with the oil he’s found, the index pressing at his hole. “A-Cheng, relax, okay?”
Jiang Cheng nods frantically but his muscles remain tense, so Wei Wuxian soothes him with a gentle kiss, and then another, and then he trails little bite marks from his collarbone down to his navel, stopping to kiss his nipples and roll them between his teeth in a way that has Jiang Cheng arching off the bed, and Wei Wuxian’s finger is still pressing insistently at Jiang Cheng’s hole—
“Ah, it’s in! Shidi, you’re doing so well,” Wei Wuxian wiggles his finger a little, and Jiang Cheng’s breath hitches at the feeling.
“Feels funny,” he gasps, but doesn’t seem to be in pain, which is a win in Wei Wuxian’s books. He continues to prod at Jiang Cheng’s insides, feels the soft flesh there, reaches in even deeper when he’s done exploring what he can. “Doesn’t feel very good,” Jiang Cheng murmurs into the pillow, but Wei Wuxian can hear him anyway. He presses in, crooks his finger up and hits that swollen part in Jiang Cheng that—
“Ah!” Jiang Cheng moans before he claps a hand over his mouth and it turns muffled, hips writhing on the sheets. Wei Wuxian prods it again and Jiang Cheng keens, legs trembling.
“Feels good, shidi?” Wei Wuxian grins, almost predatory in the firelight of that single candle. “You sounded like you enjoyed it,” and at that Jiang Cheng flushes a deep scarlet that spreads all the way to his chest, covering his face with his arm and biting his lip to prevent any more embarrassing noises from coming out — which won’t do, Wei Wuxian wants to see his precious shidi. He presses a second finger along with the first, nailing that spot again to see what Jiang Cheng will do, and Jiang Cheng lets go of Wei Wuxian’s cock entirely to press both hands to his mouth, eyes wide with shock and arousal, the beginnings of a moan still lodged in his throat so it comes out as a low keen.
“C’mon, A-Cheng, don’t be ashamed,” Wei Wuxian coaxes another whine from Jiang Cheng as he presses into the area around that spot, “I want to hear you.” Jiang Cheng shakes his head, hands still clamped tight over his mouth, so Wei Wuxian adds another finger in — and this time Jiang Cheng hisses at the intrusion, writhing away from his touch, so Wei Wuxian smooths a soothing hand over Jiang Cheng’s thigh, and gives chaste kisses to his forehead and exposed wrists. “You’re already taking me so well, are you really a virgin? Maybe you’ve invited some disciples over while shixiong was busy, let them fuck your pretty little hole until it’s gaping, is that why you can take three of my fingers so well? Jiang Cheng, what have you been—”
“Ah— I, only you, Wei Ying, please, I— mm—” Jiang Cheng scrabbles to hold Wei Wuxian’s shoulders, digging into tanned flesh and it’s like his mouth has lost all its filters and propriety beaten into it since he was a child, “Your fingers, ah, too much— feels so good, A-Ying, shixiong!” His voice goes pitchy at the end when Wei Wuxian angles his wrist just right and thrusts into that spot in Jiang Cheng with all three fingers and momentum. There’s tears pooling in the corners of Jiang Cheng’s eyes now, shimmering but not falling, and it only serves to fuel the fire in Wei Wuxian as he thrusts his fingers into his hole. "No one but you, only you, A-Ying please!"
"What does A-Cheng want?" Wei Wuxian asks, even as he feels Jiang Cheng's hips grinding to meet his fingers.
"Agh— don't make me say it," Jiang Cheng grits out, even though his breath is already coming in short, even though his lips are furiously red from all the biting. Wei Wuxian draws his fingers out of Jiang Cheng’s body and is transfixed by the way his body seems to cling onto his fingers, like he doesn’t want them to come out, and fuck if it isn’t hot, the way his shidi’s body molds so easily to his touch. “W-Wei Ying, stop!” Wei Wuxian tears his eyes away to look at Jiang Cheng’s face and the scarlet blush on his cheeks and ears tells him that yes, he said those out loud. He can’t find it in himself to regret it.
“Jiang Cheng, you want to stop?” Wei Wuxian fakes a pout, stops the movement of his fingers entirely, and watches with amazement as Jiang Cheng’s expression turns shocked, then angry, then embarrassed, as he watches his shidi try to suppress the motions of his hips trying to find more friction now that Wei Wuxian isn’t putting in any of the work. “Shixiong won’t do anything shidi doesn’t want him to do,” he cooes, sickly sweet, “especially if you’re tired,” and Wei Wuxian draws his fingers out as he reaches for his outer robes with his other hand and—
“...gege.”
“Hmm, Jiang Cheng?” Jiang Cheng— he wonders if he can hear his heart hammering in his chest.
“Gege, I, anything, don’t leave me,” Jiang Cheng sobs and shifts his hips. Wei Wuxian can see his throat shifting and hear the choked moan leaving his lips and oh, his shidi is always beautiful but like this, taking his pleasure from him, bun undone and hair spilling onto his sheets, Jiang Cheng is breathtaking.
“Will never leave you, shidi, always here to catch you,” he murmurs into the hollow of Jiang Cheng’s neck as he picks up speed, until the room is filled with nothing but slicked sounds and the hushed cries of Jiang Cheng under him, moans swallowed in Wei Wuxian’s eager mouth. Jiang Cheng instinctively reaches to try and jack him off, and it’s endearing to see him fumble with the task, especially as his mind seems otherwise preoccupied with the fingers thrusting into his hole. “Close, A-Cheng?”
“Mn— gege—” Jiang Cheng gasps, and his legs come to wrap around Wei Wuxian’s waist such that he can feel Jiang Cheng’s toes curl against his spine. “Close—”
“Then come for me, A-Cheng.”
The sound that Jiang Cheng makes when he comes is something that Wei Wuxian will commit to memory for the rest of his life — it’s not a loud sound, Jiang Cheng has much more propriety than that, but the way it sounds, harsh and desperate, contrasting with his flushed skin and teary eyes is a sight that could bring any man to his knees (let alone Wei Wuxian, who has never valued anyone else more than Jiang Cheng). Jiang Cheng’s cock spurts white onto his stomach and Wei Wuxian drags a finger through the mess to taste it, if not to see Jiang Cheng’s pupils dilate even further.
“I want to make you feel good, too,” Jiang Cheng flips himself so he’s on his hands and knees in front of Wei Wuxian, lowers his head so he’s eye-level with his still-hard, leaking cock. Jiang Cheng’s mouth so close to his actual dick is making his head spin, because it feels like whiplash that he’s progressed from private fantasies about Jiang Cheng to actually having Jiang Cheng here, between his legs, wanting to suck his cock. “I—”
“Nothing you don’t want to do,” Wei Wuxian says again, but this time he’s serious, because while Jiang Cheng giving him a blowjob sounds hot as fuck, he also knows that Jiang Cheng does everything with more than 100% of his effort and doesn’t know when to obey the limits of his body and he really doesn’t want him vomitting around his cock. “We can take it slow, please please don’t try to deepthroat me, okay?” (The caveman hindbrain in him is kicking himself for saying that.)
Jiang Cheng looks like he wants to disagree, a petulant downturn to his mouth, but it smooths over and he opens his mouth to give the head of his cock a kitten lick, and oh no how does he look so good doing that. Jiang Cheng licks broad strokes up his cock, eyes focused on Wei Wuxian’s face to see his reactions and that knife-sharp focus all on him has heat and blood going straight to his cock — and Jiang Cheng must be able to tell, because now he’s closing his lips around the head of his cock and sucking.
“Oh, A-Cheng, that’s so good, you’re so good,” Jiang Cheng may be sloppy and unpractised (if he were, Wei Wuxian would have far more concerns) but he’s so eager, willing to learn and please — he quickly finds out that he can’t really push his gag reflex as far down as he’d like, but he’s good at using his tongue to find the spots that have Wei Wuxian gasping, and per Wei Wuxian’s suggestion he uses his hands for the rest he can’t fit in his mouth. The worst (best) part is that Jiang Cheng’s eyes and movement are always so focused on Wei Wuxian and his pleasure, on making him feel good, that it’s so hard to not just come then and there and embarrass himself in front of his shidi.
“You’re perfect, so hot and wet and tight for me, can I come in your mouth? You don’t have to swallow, you could do anything and I’d want it,” Jiang Cheng lets out a muffled groan at that and the vibrations go straight to his cock. His hand joins Jiang Cheng’s on his cock, pumping furiously now, “I’m coming, shidi—” his voice cuts off into a low groan and he comes, even as his cock gives one last interested twitch as Jiang Cheng’s throat bobs to swallow it all.
“I did it,” Jiang Cheng smiles tiredly, opening his mouth to show him that it’s clean. Wei Wuxian’s caveman hindbrain wants to push Jiang Cheng down again just to fuck his ass open, does he even know what he just did, my innocent shidi— but the rational brain thankfully wins out and he can at least acknowledge that anything past what they just did would probably result in their potential inability to show up at morning practice tomorrow, or even worse, Yanli-shijie would hear and then it would be a shitshow for both of them as soon as they got out of bed.
(In his heart, he knows Yanli-shijie wouldn’t do that. It’s Jiang Cheng’s parents that would probably try to run Wei Wuxian off Yunmeng territory — or at least Madame Yu — and that would devastate the both of them.)
“A-Ying, stop thinking,” Jiang Cheng curls up into Wei Wuxian’s side, a solid warmth, and his heart wants to melt right out of its chest, “go to sleep. We have morning practice tomorrow.” Jiang Cheng shifts to bury his face into Wei Wuxian’s chest and he wonders how Jiang Cheng can sleep with the literal thunderstorm that is his heart blasting right next to his ear as he watches his breaths even out. Watching him sleep makes him sleepy too, because he looks so peaceful and happy in sleep, and soon Wei Wuxian can feel his eyes sliding shut, the candle long gone out. The air turns muggy and hot from the taste of lightning, and he belatedly realises that the rainy season is coming, so maybe they’ll watch the rain fall over Lotus Pier in the morning as he presses more kisses to Jiang Cheng’s shoulders.
Maybe they’ll wake up late and hear the song of frogs against the rhythmic pattern of rain hitting the roof.
Right before he closes his eyes, he reaches to card a hand in Jiang Cheng’s hair, and smiles in the darkness.
“A-Cheng, I—”
love you, his mind completes, but the words are swallowed by sleep, by the echoes of thunder rolling through Yunmeng. He’s sure Jiang Cheng will get the message. He’s sure.