Chapter Text
Cool water lapped Jin Yan’s body as he woke. Other than moonlight and a few candles, Jin Xuan’s fingers swirling the tub’s contents were the only source of light. They made it glow, even sparkle, as ice began to crystallize. Jin Yan shivered, watching the beautiful show unfold.
Jin Xuan’s other hand rested on the soft of his sore neck, cooling it at a more gentle pace than the water. “Jin Yan,” he murmured behind him, “are you ready to tell me what happened?”
Jin Yan swallowed. “What…happened?” he repeated shakily.
“With our prince. With the wine.”
“Ah.” He giggled nervously. “I gave it to him, but he gave it back.”
“Is that all?”
“He wanted me to drink it. Of course, I couldn’t refuse.”
A fine layer of ice formed over the bath’s surface. “And what of the seed on your breath and the marks on your throat?”
“I don’t remember,” he lied.
Jin Xuan was already upset with him about bringing Xiao Yu to the brothel—how would he react if he knew Jin Yan had taken the prince’s pleasure into his own hands?
“I would have noticed if it was from the marquis,” Jin Xuan was saying. “Was it from a guard, perhaps? Is that how you got in His Majesty’s chambers without anyone noticing?”
Jin Yan trembled. Even if Zhuo Qing wasn’t around, if Jin Yan shared this secret, he might not survive the night.
“You need to tell me,” Jin Xuan pressed. “If a guard used you, if he neglected his duties…”
“Please, Director, I don’t know how I got in.” The ice thickened. “Please.”
“Entering the Emperor’s chambers without permission…” Jin Xuan clicked his tongue. “Even drunk, you must have known the consequences you were risking. Why did you do it?”
“To save you!”
“To save me?” His voice and lips were soft. “Why?”
“If the Marquis said something to the Emperor about you threatening him, wouldn’t there be consequences for that? I know he said he wouldn’t, but…”
“What did our prince tell you about the conversation with his father?”
“Not much, except that the Marquis praised me, and wasn’t as happy with you.”
“That’s all?”
“The prince wanted me to leave.” Jin Yan shook his head slowly. “If you were in trouble, how could I stay?”
With a sigh, Jin Xuan touched the ice. His finger flashed white, and the ice shattered into tiny pieces before dissolving in the water. “Dry yourself off and go to bed.”
Jin Yan shivered, stretching his freed limbs. “Will you go back to the Emperor?”
“Not tonight.”
“Then…”
“Go to bed,” Jin Xuan repeated.
With anticipation, Jin Yan shivered again. He climbed out of the tub, drying himself quickly but thoroughly—Jin Xuan wouldn’t like it if he got his robes wet.
There was another thing he probably wouldn’t like, Jin Yan realized. He hastily shrugged on a layer of sheer purple silk before he rushed to the bed, hoping to get there before Jin Xuan could see it.
He was too late.
Jin Xuan picked up the amethyst length slowly, frowning as he inspected the state Jin Yan had left it in. “When I allowed you to borrow this, I was hoping you would take care of it.”
Jin Yan’s finger twitched. “I didn’t expect the Director to be here tonight.”
“You should expect me every night.” Jin Xuan leaned close, brushing his lips against the shell of his ear. “From now on, I may visit any night.”
“The Director means…”
Jin Xuan swept past him, back to the tub. Jin Yan followed, quivering with excitement as he watched him clean off old oil and other substances from the surface of the stone.
“Find the harness for me,” Jin Xuan told him. “I trust you didn’t lose it.”
“Of course, Director.” Jin Yan scrambled over to a nearby shelf, presenting it to him with a grin.
“Good. Now bring me the jar of wine. I left it on the table.”
By the time Jin Yan returned with the requested item, the harness was almost fully secured. Jin Xuan took it from him, tearing off the frozen lid with a crack. He drizzled a bit on the amethyst length before freezing it with a single touch.
Jin Yan’s knees went weak. “Director, please…”
A gentle hand caressed his wet hair, chilling it pleasantly. “Are you ready for this?”
Jin Yan wasn’t ready, not really. But he wanted to be, he needed to be. “I am,” he affirmed with a nod.
“Clean it off, and you may have it.”
Closing his eyes, Jin Yan pressed his lips against the sweet ice. Jin Xuan had been stopping him from drinking the wine the whole night, but now he was offering it in his favorite temperature, on his favorite thing. Even if this was a trick, the brief bliss it would give him would be worth it.
Jin Xuan let him take the length in his mouth. He let him lick it. He let him suck it. There was no scolding, no punishment. Just soft touches against his scalp, wonderful and cold.
Even when the sweet taste was gone, Jin Yan kept going. He liked the smooth stone on his tongue, and he liked the slight smile on Jin Xuan’s lips. He liked kneeling for him, and he liked his touch.
“That’s enough,” Jin Xuan said, so softly Jin Yan could pretend he didn’t hear.
But Jin Yan did hear, and he obeyed, flicking his tongue over the amethyst’s tip before relaxing on the balls of his feet. His body was so sore, in the best way. He’d be happy to lie down on the hard floor and just feel it, but he knew that Jin Xuan could make him happier.
Cool fingers soothed his neck—sore in a way he didn’t like—before offering to help him stand. Jin Yan shivered, remembering those fingers in his mouth, in the Emperor’s bed. Beautiful, soft, cold fingers, silencing him as the Emperor took him.
Jin Xuan was so beautiful. Is so beautiful. Jin Yan looked up at him, placing a soft kiss on his palm. “Thank you,” he whispered, nuzzling his hand.
Jin Xuan held his face, taking a strip of black cloth from his sleeve. “I’m not done with you yet.”
“What should I do?” he asked, lowering his gaze.
“Put this on and go to your bed. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Jin Yan took the blindfold from him, careful not to touch it too closely; he still wanted the silk to be cool when it put it over his eyes. He tied it quickly, giggling at the sensation it offered before his skin warmed the fabric.
“Jin Yan,” the Director sighed, “how do you expect to get to your bed without seeing?”
“Oh.” Jin Yan’s eyebrow brushed against the silk as it raised. “But didn’t you tell me to put it on first?”
“Yes, I suppose I did.” With another sigh, Jin Xuan helped him stand.
Jin Yan trembled against him, knowing a sheer robe was the only thing separating him from the amethyst. Once his shins touched the edge of the bed, Jin Xuan took the robe from him, leaving his side. Probably folding it more neatly than it needed to be.
When he came back, he smelled like plum. The amethyst must have been oiled, ready to go inside him.
Jin Yan’s legs were shaking, but the Director hadn’t told him what position to do, or where on the bed to go.
He could smell him, so close.
Nothing happened.
He was going to collapse if he had to stand any longer. “Please, Director.” A hand on his shoulder kept him from falling, while the other pinched his left nipple. “Director!”
“Tell me who you serve,” Jin Xuan growled softly.
Jin Yan whimpered. “The Emperor, our prince, and you.”
“In which order?”
“If I say the wrong order, I’ll get in trouble with you. If I say the right order, the Emperor could punish me. Either way,” Jin Yan laughed bitterly, “I’m guessing our prince would be angry.”
The hand that was on his nipple trailed down to his ass, bringing it closer to the amethyst. “Whose punishment do you fear most?”
“That would be whichever one that ends in my death, wouldn’t it?”
With a cold laugh, Jin Xuan pressed the phallus against him. “And whose reward do you desire the most?”
“Yours,” Jin Yan whispered, gasping as the hard stone slid easily into his hole. Even though it was smaller than anything else that had been in it this evening, it felt like it filled him just as good. As gold, as flesh. “Always yours, Director.”
Jin Xuan lowered him onto the bed, thrusting from behind. Firm and steady, each one left Jin Yan sinking further into the covers. He moaned, not sure whether to beg for it to stop or to last forever. It was too much, but he needed it.
Pushing in fully, Jin Xuan covered him—with his body, his robes—and brushed his lips below his ear. “Then tell me who you answer to.”
“Please, Director, I—ah!” A pinch to one nipple, a cold touch to the other. Jin Yan cried out his pleasure, struggling not to writhe.
A slow, merciless thrust. “Tell me.”
“You,” Jin Yan answered with a shaky breath, “always you.”
“Good.” Jin Xuan held him, just like he held him that snowy day all those years ago. This time offering the cold he craved, instead of the warmth he’d needed back then. “My Yan'er.”
Closing his eyes against the blindfold, Jin Yan smiled.