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Xichen gasps for air the instant his mouth is uncovered. "M-Mingjue-xiong, I—"
Mingjue kisses him silent.
Back against the wall, Mingjue's apartment door three feet away, Xichen's head spins with more than just the alcohol. They both drank beyond than they should have—at least… Any amount of alcohol, really, is too much for Xichen. He had been so far gone after the first vodka cranberry that he couldn't—or hadn't thought to—keep track of how many drinks Mingjue had.
Mingjue must be pretty out of it, gauging by the fact that he couldn't even wait to get into his apartment before pinning Xichen to the wall and attempting to devour him. He has one leg shoved between both of Xichen's, which does nothing to hide how aroused Xichen is—and from just a bit of kissing. It's comforting, at least, to know that he isn't the only one getting turned on; Mingjue hard cock is digging into Xichen's upper thigh, and Xichen can feel it pulsing as if it has a heartbeat of its own.
Fuck. At this rate, Xichen is going to come in his pants before they even get inside.
"Ming…jue… In… Inside? I want, oh shit, I want to see you naked."
As soon as the words have left his lips, Xichen is forcefully dragged toward the door. Mingjue fumbles to get his keys out of his pocket, and Xichen can admit that he himself is not making Mingjue's task any easier by clinging to him. When Mingjue looks away to find the right key, Xichen takes the opportunity to dig his teeth into the skin right below his jaw. The keys nearly fall from Mingjue's hand, but he manages to catch them at the last second, and after a few more seconds of awkward grappling, the door swings open. Xichen nearly trips over the threshold as Mingjue pushes him, backwards, inside, but strong hands at his waist save Xichen before he can fall.
They're no sooner inside than Mingjue is tearing Xichen's shirt off—literally. The buttons fly in all directions, whizzing through the air like bullets. He goes for his own shirt next, and—oh, dear. The poor t-shirt is done for, nothing more than tatters that flutter to the ground as Mingjue continues to attack Xichen's mouth and neck with his teeth. Still moving backwards, Xichen pushes back so that he can kick off his shoes. Mingjue does the same, and unable to wait another second, he picks Xichen up bodily.
Wrapping his legs around Mingjue's waist, Xichen wonders why they've never done this before. Can they do it again? Sometime in the future, preferably when they're sober? He shelves those thoughts for now, wanting to simply savor the way Mingjue's skin feels under his nails and the shape of Mingjue's tongue as it fills his mouth.
Xichen is not exactly light, but Mingjue tosses him onto the bed as easily as if he were a pillow. The bed frame groans under the sudden weight, complaining more as Mingjue crawls on top of him. Already unzipping his pants, a small, distant part of Xichen is grateful that Mingjue is not ripping this garment as well. Xichen will undoubtedly be allowed to borrow an oversized shirt from him tomorrow, but he would look like a shriveled up twig if he were to walk home in a pair of Mingjue's pants.
"Mmm… Ming…jue… I… Hnng..."
Tossing Xichen's pants, underwear, and socks aside, Mingjue growls as he pounces on Xichen again, shoving his legs apart while he clumsily tears off the remainder of his clothing. With nothing between them, Xichen feels more than a little overwhelmed by the hot press of skin against skin. He runs his hands along Mingjue's forearms, feeling the texture of the sparse hairs, the softness of of his skin, the firm muscle underneath.
It suddenly dawns on him that this…might be a terrible idea. He's in over his head, has been for years. And now he will know what Mingjue sounds like in the throes of ecstasy, how his cock feels, so hot and thick and drooling precome on Xichen's.
"W-wait!" Xichen cries, a (better) idea suddenly occurring to him. "Please—Let me… I want to suck your cock. Please."
"Mm." Mingjue tugs Xichen's lower lip between his teeth once more before pulling away. "If you insist."
He crawls up to the head of the bed, straddling Xichen's chest. Already waiting with his mouth wide open, Xichen sighs around the first mouthful, the head alone spreading his mouth wide. He won't be able to deepthroat it from this angle, which is disappointing, but maybe… Xichen desperately hopes this won't be his only opportunity to have Mingjue's cock in his mouth.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Mingjue groans, bracing an arm against the wall above the headboard. "I can't even look at you or I'll be finished."
Xichen makes a questioning sound, then flattens his tongue along the little bit of shaft he can fit in his mouth. This earns another round of cursing from Mingjue, whose gaze finally returns to Xichen. His brow is furrowed, his mouth set in a grim line, as if he is in pain. "You really need to stop being so goddamn perfect."
Smiling with his eyes, Xichen swallows around Mingjue's cock, which causes Mingjue to shove it farther in, hitting the back of Xichen's throat. He fights around the urge to cough and sputter. After all, now isn't the time to look like an amateur. Not when he's already thinking of asking for a repeat performance.
He brings his hands up to squeeze the ass stationed on his chest, squishing and kneading to his heart's content. If this is the only chance he will have to play with Mingjue's ass, he will damn well make the most of it. It's firm with muscle but there's a just perfect layer of fat that makes it fun to toy with. Xichen wants it in his hands every day for the rest of his life.
"Fuck," Mingjue hisses. "Need to—Can I fuck you?"
Xichen's head bobs enthusiastically. He chants, "yes, yes, yes," as soon as his mouth is free. Working his way down Xichen's body, Mingjue pauses to push his pecs together, biting into one of them. It makes Xichen hiss, and if he has nothing else when the morning arrives, he will at least have the imprint of Mingjue's teeth all over his chest and neck.
Wrenching his mouth away, Mingjue leans over to open the nightstand drawer, pulling out lube and a pack of condoms. His hands shake as he pours a measure of lube onto his fingers. He leans over to kiss Xichen while his digits find their mark, and he wastes no time sliding one inside.
Xichen raises his head and lets it drop heavily on the pillow. Part of Nie Mingjue is inside him. This is—It's—
"I can take more," he says, desperate and selfish.
Mingjue presses another digit inside, stretching him, his fingers curving. It's like a jolt of electricity when they find Xichen's prostate. His back arches off the bed.
"M-more."
Groaning against the side of Xichen's neck while shoving three fingers inside him, Mingjue mumbles, "You're gonna kill me. Kill me fucking dead."
It doesn't take long for Xichen to start begging again. "Please, please—Can I have your cock now?"
Mingjue bites down hard on the junction of Xichen's neck and shoulder. "With or without a condom?" he asks, the words tumbling out all at once.
"Without," Xichen answers without question. It's far from the most reckless decision he's made tonight, and he can't bear the thought of not feeling Mingjue fully.
He hears the distinct popping of a plastic bottle and feels Mingjue's hand moving between their bodies. Hitching one of Xichen's legs up onto his shoulder, Mingjue guides his cock into position and starts to make his way inside. Xichen is not exactly a novice, but he can't recall ever being stretched quite like this. His cock pulses, dangerously close to coming already—and Mingjue is only partway in.
"So…fuck…tight," Mingjue growls. "'Fraid I'm gonna hurt you."
Xichen's heart skips. It's just like Mingjue to be concerned for his safety even when he's obviously feeling just as desperate as Xichen. Always a sentimental drunk, Xichen has to wipe a few tears away from his eyes.
"You won't hurt me," he says, believing every word of it. "And besides…" He wraps his arms around Mingjue's strong shoulders. "Who said I don't want it to hurt?"
Mingjue thrusts in suddenly, Xichen's leg slipping from his shoulder. "Shit! Fuck! Sorry!"
Crossing his ankles at the small of Mingjue's back, Xichen murmurs next to his ear. "Don't be sorry. Fuck me up, da-ge."
"You're gonna eat those words," Mingjue vows, his voice low and gravelly. True to his word, he pulls out, then shoves back in, and Xichen claws at his back, cursing. They fall into an unhurried, but forceful, rhythm, and Xichen has never been as thankful for Mingjue's strength as he is tonight, happily taking everything he can get while it's being offered.
He still wants more.
Just to goad Mingjue on, he says with a grin, "No regrets yet. Maybe you should fuck me harder."
Mingjue gets up onto his knees, pressing Xichen's thighs further apart with his hands. He fucks him faster, so hard that the headboard bounces rhythmically off the wall (fortunate for Xichen, less fortunate for Mingjue's nextdoor neighbor). Bringing a leg up to rest on his shoulder again, Mingjue turns his head and bites into Xichen's inner thigh.
For the first time in his life, Xichen comes with not a single touch to his dick. It feels like his entire body has been wound up tight and suddenly releases all at once, and his release paints his chest and stomach in creamy ropes. He's still riding high when Mingjue thrusts into him two, three more times, his rhythm stuttering and sloppy. His hand, which has been gripping Xichen's leg, tightens almost painfully, but Xichen wants it to hurt. He craves an ache that will last for days.
Mingjue's hips continue to rock minutely as he shivers through the last of his orgasm. His hand rubs the place it had been squeezing, offering comfort as he slowly lowers Xichen's leg to the bed. Dropping his upper body, he kisses Xichen gently, soothingly—a complete departure from the frantic way they made out before. Xichen finds that he loves this type of lazy, sedate kissing as much as what came previously, and his heart clenches as he thinks of what they could have if he—if he—
Oh. No.
It appears that Xichen has left the Happy Drunk stage of his inebriation journey and entered the phase of Sappy Drunk. There's no stopping the tears once they start to pour from his eyes.
Mingjue reels back with a start, alarm written all over his face. "Shit! Did I… Fuck, I'm sor—"
"A-Jue, I… I love you."
Violently snapping his mouth closed, Xichen has the horrible sinking feeling that Mingjue will regret it all tomorrow. He's been sitting on his feelings for Mingjue for almost a decade now, so long that it feels as natural as the sun setting in the west, and now his secret is out, no way to stuff the words back into his stupid mouth. Fuck, he's an idiot.
"Hey. Shh…" Mingjue's voice is gentle, as are his thumbs as they swipe away the tears trickling from Xichen's eyes. "Can you stop crying and listen to me?"
Xichen sniffles. But he does do his best to suck it up to hear Mingjue out.
Wearing a soft, fond smile, Mingjue laces their fingers together, bringing their hands up to kiss the back of Xichen's hand. "I'm glad that you love me…but I wish you would've said something sooner."
Xichen can't decide whether to laugh or cry harder. So, he does both.
"Hey now! Shh, shh… Listen." When Xichen's sobs let up, Mingjue puts a hand under his chin, tilting his face to meet Mingjue's gaze. "I love you, too. Have…for a really long time."
"You…" Xichen's mood flips on a dime, his expression going from dark and stormy to bright and sunny in an instant. "You love me?!"
Mingjue nods once. "I was sure you'd have caught on by now. Doesn't it strike you as odd that you're the only person I can stand being around before nine a.m.?"
"You aren't that bad in the mornings," Xichen counters. "You always leave the baristas a big tip when you grumble at them."
"I am that bad," Mingjue shoots back. "But maybe I'll be a bit less bitchy if you spend the night."
"I guess we'll just have to see."
Xichen is on the verge of falling asleep, but he keeps his eyes open just long enough for Mingjue to help him clean up. When Mingjue climbs back into bed, Xichen latches onto him like a barnacle, still not believing this isn't some kind of drunken dream. "Love you," he mumbles into Mingjue's shoulder.
"Love you…too…" Mingjue is already snoring.
His chest is like a pillow is the last thought to cross Xichen's mind before he, too, passes out.