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Not for the first time, Liu Sang thought that his younger self could never possibly have imagined that he’d be here.
It’s a thought he’s had many times, mostly, though not exclusively, since meeting Wu Xie. The first time had been soon after he’d established himself as a professional consultant, valued for his expertise. Even though he’d been clawing his way to that position for several years, he still couldn’t quite believe it the first time he realized that he was making real money off his skills, respected – though generally not liked – by people with wealth and influence.
After meeting Wu Xie, those moments of astonished realization took on a somewhat different flavor. He had never imagined that he would meet his idol in person, or be chased by horrifying hand clams, or drive a car off a cliff, or, generally, find himself in any of the insane and frequently life-threatening situations that seemed to sprout up around Wu Xie and his friends like weeds. There were nicer surprises, too. That they wouldn’t leave him to die, regardless of whether they liked him yet. That he’d get to play pool with his idol. That he’d make actual friends, among Wu Xie’s circle, people who somehow seemed to genuinely like him.
Right now, though, Liu Sang was thinking that his younger self would never have believed he’d be here, in his idol’s bed and in his arms.
Perhaps sensing his mind wandering, Zhang Qiling leaned down and bit him sharply on the collarbone, making him yelp. “Ouxiang!” he complained, not really meaning it but needing to lodge a protest nonetheless.
“Pay attention,” he replied, and punctuated the words with a sharp little thrust of his hips that made Liu Sang gasp. Pay attention to me while I’m inside you.
“Ouxiang,” he complained again, a lot breathier this time. Xiaoge just laughed at him with his eyes. In revenge Liu Sang dragged his hands from where he’d been holding his lover’s shoulders to trace the muscles of his sides, his back, his chest. Xiaoge pressed another biting kiss to his chin, then his mouth, and he opened to it, letting him inside in another way. Xiaoge didn’t tease the way Wu Xie did, just kissed him deeply while Liu Sang arched under him, pressing up into his cock as he thrust lazily into him.
Just when he was starting to feel the need to breathe, Xiaoge broke the kiss and pulled back just enough to look at him with that tiny smile. His hips rolled as he fucked him steadily, and Liu Sang threw his head back, whining a little at how good it felt. Zhang Qiling’s stamina was impressive, and he’d been fucking Liu Sang long enough that he could both feel and hear how wet and open he was for him, pleasure washing through his body like the tide. He kind of wanted to come and kind of wanted to hang here forever, Xiaoge’s cock pushing inside him, gentle fire lapping at his body like waves on the shore, that impossibly steady heartbeat thrumming away above him in its grounding rhythm. Like this, his awareness narrowed to the two of them, the kind of embarrassing but kind of sexy sound of Xiaoge thrusting into him, the sound of skin against skin. The rush of the blood in both their veins. The faintly ragged sound of Xiaoge’s breathing, possibly inaudible to anyone else, proving that he too could be affected by intimacy.
At last, Liu Sang began to squirm, twitching his hips up restlessly in search of something more. Xiaoge’s hand slid between their bodies to pet slickly at Liu Sang’s cock, making him shiver and cry out. He dug his fingers into Xiaoge’s back, clenching on his cock as Xiaoge started to fuck him a little faster, those long clever fingers touching him in just the way to send him spiraling higher, and he was already so close, so alight. Liu Sang came, shivering all over and making little noises as Xiaoge kissed at his neck, his chin, his lips.
Xiaoge didn’t let up, knowing Liu Sang liked it, the way the pleasure turned sharp and jagged, driving every other thought from his head. He whined with it, clenching on Xiaoge’s cock even though it ached, wanting – “Ouxiang,” he begged incoherently, “Ouxiang, ah… want to feel you…” and he could hear it as his idol thrust hard and came, biting at Liu Sang’s shoulder, groaning low in his throat.
Zhang Qiling had a tendency to be lazily possessive, afterwards, and Liu Sang basked in the affection blooming in his chest as his lover alternated between biting his shoulders and licking him anywhere he could reach. He relaxed under Xiaoge’s weight, heavy but not crushing him, and petted his hands through his hair, down his back.
It was unusual for the two of them to be alone in Wushanju. It was Wu Xie’s house, after all; Xiaoge more or less lived with him but came and went irregularly, drawn away by whatever he got up to when he disappeared somewhere alone. Liu Sang had his own apartment and his own jobs, though as he’d slowly become assured of his welcome here with them he’d settled into a steady orbit where he stayed here at least as often as he stayed at his own place. Sometimes it was all three of them here, plus Pangzi who generally stuck to Wu Xie like an annoying burr, though Liu Sang will never admit he’d grown to like the loud bastard. And Liu Sang had come to cherish the time spent with Wu Xie alone when Xiaoge is out. But it was nice to spend time with the man he still called his idol, even if he didn’t mean it the way he used to.
Liu Sang traced his fingers along the qilin tattoo, not quite reverent, admiring the way it seemed to flicker and stir with the rise and fall of Xiaoge’s back. After a while, Xiaoge left off mauling him for the moment, shifting up to blink down at him. He reached out a finger and gently traced the corner of Liu Sang’s eye, making his mouth open on a little gasp.
“What are you thinking?” Xiaoge asked.
He was not the one with an impenetrable face! But he answered anyway, sliding his hand back into Xiaoge’s hair and petting at the nape of his neck. “Just,” he said, searching for the right words, “I never would have thought to imagine this.”
It wasn’t that he had never fantasized about Zhang Qiling – he had, in fact, done so with a frequency that was frankly kind of embarrassing to remember now. But those fantasies had been unformed, lacking any real knowledge of the man in question, and had mostly revolved around letting his idol have his way with him. Which, well. Liu Sang certainly liked to be had. But he never could have imagined this – how it felt to lie curled with Xiaoge among sun-warmed sheets in their other lover’s house, Xiaoge’s softening cock tucked against his thigh. Could never have imagined the rest of it either, the life he’d settled into among the Iron Triangle and their sprawling array of associates.
He had managed to explain… none of that, really, but he thought Xiaoge understood from his little nod, the way he settled back down on Liu Sang’s chest. Figured he’s probably not the only one who had to learn happiness.
Later, they’ll clean up, and maybe Xiaoge will disappear and come back with takeout from wherever he gets it – those secrets guarded even from Wu Xie. But for now Liu Sang let himself float in that steady heartbeat, and didn’t trouble himself with anything else.