[ it makes his chest clench each time, the things yan qing says and how honest they sound, slipping warm against his ear like a physical touch. he shivers, partly from the sensation and partly from something like embarrassment — by how good it feels to be told those things, things that he would have never thought could be applied to him; by how nice it feels to be held and touched like this. his throat goes all tight and he couldn't say anything even if he wanted to, even if he had the words for it.
just relax, yan qing tells him, but elmott can't, not when he can feel his hand sliding into his jeans, into his briefs, and then there's fingers around his dick and elmott's brain goes blissfully blank.
he's very dimly aware of his back arching up off the couch in a sharp jerk, as if trying to get free. there's a low, almost animal sound that leaves his throat aching afterwards, something desperate mixed with relief; he doesn't remember coming but yan qing's touch is wet and hot and the shame that he couldn't stop himself, that he's already done this quickly can't even penetrate the fuzz in his mind. he can't recall the last time he'd touched himself, can't recall the last time he felt like he needed or wanted to, not when he was trying to find a way to survive on his own.
when he blinks his eyes open, he comes back to himself in degrees, staring up at yan qing haloed by the light filtering in front the small kitchen. his hand feels like jelly, but he reaches up to cup his cheek, draws him down so he can kiss him, slow and open-mouthed, like he has all the time in the world to devote to this single thing. ]
[He had barely gotten a stroke in when he feels Elmott come in his hand, the liquid heat sticky in his palm. It's over faster than he expects, but when he can glide over the shaft a little easier, he doesn't mind it all that much. He idly slides Elmott's cock between his fingers, smearing it wet before he lets go. It's amazing, really, how he can make someone feel something so good in this world. He's about to tease Elmott and push the feeling down before it overwhelms him, but the kiss takes his breath away and it makes him feel like he's actually worth something. Whatever he is paid, he returns in kind, so slowly, as if they had all the time in the world, they savor each other's taste until he has to breathe. Thin, silver lines form and break between their lips as they pull apart.]
I didn't do a thing, but... [He chuckles.] Couldn't wait for me, could you? I always knew you were a freak.
[Then, with a kiss more chaste:]
I like that, though.
[It's a shame. He was looking forward to more. But if Elmott is happy with this, that's all that matters to him.
Yan Qing pushes himself up. He's on the couch now, clothes wrinkled and hair a little mussed, looking at the very same hand that touched Elmott seconds ago. It's covered in a wetness on his palm and between his fingers, threatening to drip down the ink on his wrist. Not wanting to waste a drop of mana, he licks it before it does. He doesn't think twice. Not even when his tongue laps up Elmott's come with purpose does Yan Qing realize what he's doing as it starts.]
[ there's no heat behind it and it's more out of habit at this point than anything malicious. the fact that he looks as wrecked as he is doesn't really help him either. maybe it's the chroma or maybe it's something else, but he feels loose and warm all over, like lying on the deck of the airship on a warm summer day. it doesn't stop him from running the pad of his thumb over yan qing's lips though before he pushes himself up, but what he doesn't expect is for him to lick his hand afterward.
elmott makes a choking sound, stilted and startled, and he hates the way heat immediately shoots down his body at the sight of it despite having finished just a moment ago. he wonders if yan qing knows what he's doing, if he's aware of it and how he doesn't seem fazed by it at all. but distantly, he recalls the conversation they had over breakfast, about how yan qing needs sex to survive. maybe he was telling the truth after all.
but now, he has options. he could either get up and end it here, or he could stay like a bigger part of him wants to. the idea that yan qing did this at all, maybe not just for him, isn't lost on elmott; more importantly, he doesn't like the idea of not doing something in return. it's not nearly as altruistic as it seems when he sits up himself, taking yan qing's soiled hand and kissing his wrist, reaching down with his other hand to slide his fingers into yan qing's waistband and pull him closer. ]
[He's not ready. He doesn't expect it. He'd taken Elmott for the passive type, willing to lie there and take it, but the truth of the matter is Yan Qing's not used to getting what he gives. Elmott's lips are on his wrist and color paints his cheeks faster than the sensation of knuckles tracing down his stomach. He grabs him by the wrist.]
You don't have to—
[But as his hips move away, the same hand pulls him closer.]
[ elmott follows without resistance, scooting in close until he's seated between yan qing's legs, knees bracketing his sides. he lets go of his hand and reaches up instead, tracing a finger over yan qing's cheek before leaning in to kiss the curve of it. ]
I want to.
[ he knows what this is, that yan qing doesn't expect anything because it's easier that way, less hurtful in the long run. it's harder to give than to take because there's always a risk of having more and more taken from you until you have nothing left to give, until you've been wrung dry of everything you have. elmott knows this, but it doesn't stop him anyway, because he hasn't been emptied yet.
his fingers are steadier than he feels, undoing the fly to yan qing's pants carefully like this isn't the first time he's done so, like this isn't the first time he's touched someone like this. the dim light from the kitchen makes it hard to see things clearly, but he can make out more of yan qing's tattoos beneath and he swallows thickly, feels his teeth ache like he wants to put his own marks alongside them. ]
It's not the first time he's had hands admire the tattoos across his skin and voices tell him to play another song or have another drink. Those voices last for just a night. He's not used to being wanted down to his soul, to trusting Elmott won't leave the next day. He knows this now, because when Elmott kisses his cheek, it's like he could say anything and Yan Qing would believe it. And he doesn't want to be that fool again, hoping for something that will never come to be, but Elmott never asks for anything either and he can't help the aching in his chest. In this moment, he remembers why Elmott is too much for him. Too good, too willing to give him everything he wants. It makes him selfish.
He tugs on Elmott's wrist, gripping it as if he's afraid Elmott will disappear, and suddenly, his throat is tight.]
I want you to.
[Carefully, he places his hand over Elmott's, breath shaking as he guides Elmott between his thighs and where he needs it. He presses their foreheads together, and he whispers,]
[ there's something in the act of yan qing guiding his hand down between his thighs that makes elmott's breath catch, something in the admittance that he wants him that makes his heart ache. he leans heavily against yan qing, takes a deep breath to gather himself because just this is already too much for him to handle. ]
Yeah, [ he nuzzles blindly along yan qing's cheek, dips shaky fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers. ] Yeah, I got you.
[ he's had his eyes closed but he opens them again once he finds yan qing's cock, carefully wrapping his fingers around him. there's something almost sobering about it, feeling the weight of him in his hand, all velvety warm skin stiff against his fingers. he sees glimpses of a design tattooed along it and it makes him swallow, mouth suddenly gone dry as he breathes out shakily. he doesn't know what he's doing and he knows yan qing won't finish nearly as quickly as he did, but he lets his fingers run down and back up, just to get familiar with how it feels, to see what yan qing likes. ]
[Yan Qing wraps his hand around Elmott's grip, closing it tighter around his shaft and showing Elmott where to focus and when to take it slow. Maybe he should feel guilty. His first should be with someone simpler, better, a man whose past isn't so steeped in blood and tragedy — but he makes Elmott stroke him down so wonderfully that his eyelashes flutter and his voice begins to pour out like honey, words of encouragement a mess on his tongue. The fingers between Elmott's knuckles slip away from his hand and slide up his wrist, then his shoulder. Holding Elmott there, he thinks he has it together, but each quiet breath they take is so loud in his ears that he can just barely keep his legs apart. Even worse is how he can feel Elmott's gaze on him and how, without a single spell, he can paint his chest and core with a heat he can't deny.
Don't stare. He was never meant to be the center of attention. But...]
You like it? [A playful smirk tugs at Yan Qing's lips as he manages to ask a question between the sounds Elmott draws from him with each touch.] You keep staring, but I've never heard you say it.
[ he's never thought he had it bad for yan qing until this moment, hand on his dick and listening to the rise and fall of his voice with every stroke. he doesn't think it's very good, but yan qing keeps looking like that, like this is something he's wanted for a while and elmott keeps struggling to catch his breath properly. a part of him feels like he's touching something he shouldn't, that he's trying to do something that someone like him doesn't deserve, and maybe he should feel guilty, too. elmott has no doubts that yan qing has had better partners, more experienced ones who actually know what they're doing with the confidence to back it up. someone who's fingers aren't so clumsy with the way they slide along his skin, someone who won't fumble on the next upward stroke towards the tip.
yan qing's voice makes him focus on his face briefly before he looks back down at his hands again, a deep flush on his cheeks at the smirk on his face, at the implication of his question. ]
Are you stupid? [ he says instead, leaning forward to kiss that dumb smirk. ] Of course I do.
[ it doesn't matter than yan qing is the only other person he's ever seen like this aside from himself. as with everything else about yan qing, he couldn't look away from him even if he wanted to. ]
[ He is immediately harder in Elmott's hand, the velvet skin and ink warm to the touch, and a sultry laugh low in Yan Qing's throat tickles Elmott's mouth when they kiss a second time. Elmott can call him stupid all he likes, but his honesty is all Yan Qing wants. Words hold power over a person more than anything else. Yan Qing should know. When Elmott touches him and says what he likes to hear, he can only moan into their kiss and hope Elmott feels it. ]
That wasn't so bad. [ Yan Qing licks his lips, if only to savor the taste and let him watch. ] You're doing better. Just pretend you're getting yourself off. You do that, don't you?
[ He wonders what he thinks about when he does. His leg hooks around Elmott's waist after a wave of pleasure, and a hand threads into crimson hair as he murmurs Elmott's name and how he likes it. Harder, tighter, like that. He'll memorize it all in time. For now, all Yan Qing wants to focus on is the proximity between their mouths and the ways they can close it. ]
[ it's a little concerning how he thinks anything yan qing does is sultry. he laughs into his mouth and elmott nips at his bottom lip, sharp canines digging just a little into the swell of it to make it sting. yan qing is hot in his grip and elmott tries to pay attention to what he says and what he likes, separating the meaning from how they feel murmured against his skin. ]
Shut up, I do. [ he doesn't. not really. not because he doesn't want to, it just wasn't something he felt like doing and he wouldn't even know what to think about during. he'd been alone for so long and his world had only begun to expand recently; physical intimacy like this is a foreign concept he'd never considered before. flatly, as much as he can sound while giving a handjob: ] I guess I've got a good teacher then, huh.
[ but really, this isn't fair. there's no denying that yan qing is beautiful — even someone like him can see that and appreciate it. what makes it difficult is the fact that he's looking at him like this, that it's his hand on yan qing's dick rather than someone else; it's his hair that yan qing's hand is tangled in and elmott's heart clenches so sharply it almost hurts. he won't be able to do this with anyone else, because yan qing would be the only one he sees, and his voice would be the only one he hears. ]
[ It shouldn't matter what Elmott's done or with whom. Elmott chose to touch him despite himself, despite themselves, and that's all he should think about. But Yan Qing knows his demons more than anybody. The sting of his lip spurs him to think: if he isn't the only one, he should be the first. If he isn't the first, he should be the best. The best are never forgotten. Elmott says he's learning and Yan Qing pulls him in to show him how they can be better. Their foreheads press together and Yan Qing can feel the sweat that's begun to trickle down his temples, down his neck, the heat conquering the space between them and everything it touches. He prays it burns his image into Elmott's mind. ]
Yeah, [ he says, his wet lips just barely touching Elmott's own with every word. ] you're in good hands.
[ His touch is rough yet gentle as it moves down the firm and tight build a mage shouldn't have, committing Elmott's life and body to memory. The man before him shouldn't be so strong. If he won't share the burden, then Yan Qing knows what he has to do.
To distract him, all it takes is a kiss.
While his lips are on his, Yan Qing pulls Elmott's waistband down, takes Elmott's hand away, and realizes their hips have never been closer when he wraps his grip around their cocks. ]
[ a laugh bubbles up from his chest that gets lost in the kiss— you're in good hands, literally and figuratively, as yan qing's touch travels down his torso. elmott is not nearly as fit as yan qing, or even majority of the people in the crew, but he's been through enough in his life, carried his regrets and burdens long enough that he had to adapt in other ways outside of his magic. there's scars tattooed along his body, skin discolored in various places when he was still learning how to control his fire; those never leave or fade over time, as permanent as the ink etched into yan qing's skin.
maybe it's strength, or maybe he's just too stubborn to give in when he should, too quick to lay his life and body on the line for others when he doesn't have anything else left to give.
but none of that matters. yan qing has his hand around both of them and all the air rushes out of his lungs in one breath, as if yan qing had punched him in the gut like he did in the amphitheater. for a second, elmott's fingers grasp at nothing before he blindly reaches for yan qing's bicep, remembering to breathe as he blinks his eyes open again. now that he knows what to expect, he isn't immediately getting off, but there's still something about seeing yan qing's hand wrapped around them, his tattooed length pressed against his that makes his pulse race. elmott runs hot on principle, but yan qing feels so warm to him, his grip sure and steady, and he finds himself close again despite coming not that long ago. ]
What, you gonna time it? [ he slides his hand up yan qing's arm, following the curve of muscle until he passes the delicate rise of his clavicle, curling around the back of his neck. it's concerning how he finds he can't stop kissing yan qing. ] What if I can't wait?
[ because he doesn't think he can, not for very long. not with the way yan qing has already taken hold of his body and his heart. ]
Then I'll kick your ass, that's what. [ He laughs as he tightens his grip.
It's hard to focus.
He has Elmott where he needs him and on most days, that's enough to fill the void. But he's been greedy lately, meeting Elmott's eyes with a hunger he is afraid to satisfy. He doesn't like it. He knows this part of him too well: once he's gotten a taste of a good thing, he'll do anything in his power to have it. Elmott has seen him at his worst, closing off his heart to protect what's important, but he hasn't seen what he's like when he's scared to lose it all. There is a reason he hasn't given a name to all this: his tender lips preoccupied with the warmth of their kiss, the feeling that rises to his chest when Elmott touches his skin. The slow and steady pump of his hand makes him all too aware of themselves, hot and thick in his palm, and it lets them feel what they can't put into words.
More. ]
Almost there, El. Think we should let the neighbors know?
[ Another chuckle escapes him before he curses under his breath, the pleasure nearly making him keel over as his hand moves with purpose. Over and over, he says Elmott's name like a mantra, and it's as if the world is closing in on him until there is nothing left but the sound of their voices and the sensation of sweat on skin. If they are found, so be it. He doesn't care about anything else. ]
[ except don't, because yan qing's voice always does something to him that he both really likes and hates, low and sinuous as it curls into his ear and slides hot down his spine. it leaves goosebumps in its wake, makes him sink his fingers into yan qing's long hair just to have something to hold on to, because he feels like he can float away at any second. it's worse still every time he says his name, like it's the only thing he can think about, and it makes elmott's heart race for every reason other than yan qing's hand on his dick.
he's in over his head and in too deep, and it's resignation that settles in his chest rather than fear or regret, like he's finally free of whatever hesitation that had held him back since the moment yan qing breezed into his life. it doesn't matter anyway, he thinks, not when they could disappear without a moment's notice, not when there's a chance he may forget about all this whenever he finds his way back home. what's the point, when he could pull yan qing forward instead, something desperate in the way he kisses him, harder and messy and open-mouthed, because he doesn't want to wait any longer.
there's a guttural moan that gets lost between their lips, a pulse and a throb before he's floating, still kissing yan qing like it's all he knows how to do at the moment. ]
[He obliges. They both don't have long. Yan Qing knows that more than anyone. When servants are no longer needed, their masters let them go. It's the same wherever he goes. So it doesn't matter if he wants to stay here, now, in this moment in time where they both exist without the guilt of leaving something behind. Elmott's kiss enraptures Yan Qing the way he never thought he'd be, melting in the hot, desperate passion of it all as he feels himself throb against him. There is no sadness, no pity. He no longer has the time for ambiguity, either. All he wants is his name on Elmott's tongue, and he gives him so much more. His hands in his hair, his hands joining them together — Elmott assails his senses and he can barely hold it together. That feeling he can't name — is this what it's like? When Elmott's voice pours into his mouth, it burns like smoke and tastes like honey, and he can't help but respond in kind. It is new, it is his, and it is all it takes to send Yan Qing over the edge with him.
Sticky with sweat and come, his hand remains where it is, the rest of him lightheaded and preoccupied with Elmott's lips.]
See? [he gasps, his mind still grasping for some semblance of reality. His shoulders rise and fall along with his steady breaths.] I knew you could do it.
[He then closes his eyes, pressing their foreheads together with a face finally at ease. Even now, he searches for the same warmth Elmott gave him all those nights ago.]
Did you like it? Should we do this more often? I'll do whatever you want me to, El. I...
[He lets the word hang in the air, praying that Elmott doesn't realize the things he has yet to accept.]
[ yan qing presses their foreheads together and for the first time since he'd arrived in lunatia, he finally feels some semblance of peace. a warm sort of drowsiness settles in his muscles and bones, a lazy contentment that makes him want to lie down next to him and sleep for a while. maybe it's just the afterglow, or maybe he just likes it a lot when yan qing stays even when he doesn't have to.
there's a lot of things they could say, half-formed thoughts drifting in and out of his mind in between glimpses of yan qing's face, the expression he made when he tumbled off the edge with him. it's something he won't forget even if he wanted to, and it should be scary, should make him want to reestablish the distance between them until yan qing relentlessly bridged the gap. but he can't find it in himself to really feel anything beyond relief, relishing in the simple pleasure of being able to tilt his head just a little to kiss him for no other reason than he wants to and that he can. ]
Enough about what I want. [ yan qing's eyes are bright in the dim light, softer than he's used to seeing them. it makes him look a little younger almost, less jaded and weary, softening the angles of his face. ] I'll take anything you give me.
Yet there is something in the way that Elmott's eyes flutter open the moment after his lips close the distance between them, something prying him open with a gentleness he's never known, and he lets it happen. As a boy, he'd always thought that to give meant to expect something in return. When he never received anything, he resolved to never give himself to anyone. He was a fool. Why would did he expect anything? There was nothing a ghost of a scoundrel like him could ever give to a kind stranger who had yet to live a single lifetime. But when Elmott takes him by the hand before he asks, he thinks what he could give would never be enough.
Yan Qing meets Elmott's earnest amber eyes and he is suddenly shy, feeling centuries younger as he takes back the youth he'd lost to duty and a one track mind. His cheeks grow hot under Elmott's gaze. He pushes against Elmott's chest in embarrassment as his heart skips a beat. Is this what it means to be carefree? The shadow of Elmott's face makes him look a little older when he draws toward him, the man's words like smoke as he tells him all he's ever wanted to hear, and for once, Yan Qing feels he doesn't have to shoulder anything alone.
His voice trembles, and he has never felt more vulnerable. ]
[ it's almost funny in a way, how this is what makes yan qing embarrassed rather than everything else they've done up to this point. elmott has never thought of himself as someone who could make people feel shy in this way, someone who could make them blush, their heart race; color their cheek with the same redness that always shows up on his own. he presses his fingertips lightly to the delicate curve of yan qing's cheekbone, quietly marveling at how warm it feels, and something swells in his chest to fill every part of his body— not the heat from desire (not entirely), but something softer. something sweeter. ]
You've been holding me this whole time, haven't you? [ his chuckle is light, just as his hands that settle on yan qing's waist, coaxing him closer again. ] You don't gotta ask.
[ but when has yan qing ever asked him for anything? he takes what he wants whenever he wants. elmott has always envied him for having the audacity to do so, to be bold in knowing what he wants and taking it without second guessing himself. outside of his magic, outside of battle and instruction, elmott holds himself back too often. maybe that's how they work, and maybe that's why even though yan qing's voice wavers, elmott's doesn't.
he leans in, pressing his lips gently to one pink cheek. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i can't believe this is happening
just relax, yan qing tells him, but elmott can't, not when he can feel his hand sliding into his jeans, into his briefs, and then there's fingers around his dick and elmott's brain goes blissfully blank.
he's very dimly aware of his back arching up off the couch in a sharp jerk, as if trying to get free. there's a low, almost animal sound that leaves his throat aching afterwards, something desperate mixed with relief; he doesn't remember coming but yan qing's touch is wet and hot and the shame that he couldn't stop himself, that he's already done this quickly can't even penetrate the fuzz in his mind. he can't recall the last time he'd touched himself, can't recall the last time he felt like he needed or wanted to, not when he was trying to find a way to survive on his own.
when he blinks his eyes open, he comes back to himself in degrees, staring up at yan qing haloed by the light filtering in front the small kitchen. his hand feels like jelly, but he reaches up to cup his cheek, draws him down so he can kiss him, slow and open-mouthed, like he has all the time in the world to devote to this single thing. ]
same I'm just closing my eyes
I didn't do a thing, but... [He chuckles.] Couldn't wait for me, could you? I always knew you were a freak.
[Then, with a kiss more chaste:]
I like that, though.
[It's a shame. He was looking forward to more. But if Elmott is happy with this, that's all that matters to him.
Yan Qing pushes himself up. He's on the couch now, clothes wrinkled and hair a little mussed, looking at the very same hand that touched Elmott seconds ago. It's covered in a wetness on his palm and between his fingers, threatening to drip down the ink on his wrist. Not wanting to waste a drop of mana, he licks it before it does. He doesn't think twice. Not even when his tongue laps up Elmott's come with purpose does Yan Qing realize what he's doing as it starts.]
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[ there's no heat behind it and it's more out of habit at this point than anything malicious. the fact that he looks as wrecked as he is doesn't really help him either. maybe it's the chroma or maybe it's something else, but he feels loose and warm all over, like lying on the deck of the airship on a warm summer day. it doesn't stop him from running the pad of his thumb over yan qing's lips though before he pushes himself up, but what he doesn't expect is for him to lick his hand afterward.
elmott makes a choking sound, stilted and startled, and he hates the way heat immediately shoots down his body at the sight of it despite having finished just a moment ago. he wonders if yan qing knows what he's doing, if he's aware of it and how he doesn't seem fazed by it at all. but distantly, he recalls the conversation they had over breakfast, about how yan qing needs sex to survive. maybe he was telling the truth after all.
but now, he has options. he could either get up and end it here, or he could stay like a bigger part of him wants to. the idea that yan qing did this at all, maybe not just for him, isn't lost on elmott; more importantly, he doesn't like the idea of not doing something in return. it's not nearly as altruistic as it seems when he sits up himself, taking yan qing's soiled hand and kissing his wrist, reaching down with his other hand to slide his fingers into yan qing's waistband and pull him closer. ]
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You don't have to—
[But as his hips move away, the same hand pulls him closer.]
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[ elmott follows without resistance, scooting in close until he's seated between yan qing's legs, knees bracketing his sides. he lets go of his hand and reaches up instead, tracing a finger over yan qing's cheek before leaning in to kiss the curve of it. ]
I want to.
[ he knows what this is, that yan qing doesn't expect anything because it's easier that way, less hurtful in the long run. it's harder to give than to take because there's always a risk of having more and more taken from you until you have nothing left to give, until you've been wrung dry of everything you have. elmott knows this, but it doesn't stop him anyway, because he hasn't been emptied yet.
his fingers are steadier than he feels, undoing the fly to yan qing's pants carefully like this isn't the first time he's done so, like this isn't the first time he's touched someone like this. the dim light from the kitchen makes it hard to see things clearly, but he can make out more of yan qing's tattoos beneath and he swallows thickly, feels his teeth ache like he wants to put his own marks alongside them. ]
... But if you don't want me to, I won't.
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It's not the first time he's had hands admire the tattoos across his skin and voices tell him to play another song or have another drink. Those voices last for just a night. He's not used to being wanted down to his soul, to trusting Elmott won't leave the next day. He knows this now, because when Elmott kisses his cheek, it's like he could say anything and Yan Qing would believe it. And he doesn't want to be that fool again, hoping for something that will never come to be, but Elmott never asks for anything either and he can't help the aching in his chest. In this moment, he remembers why Elmott is too much for him. Too good, too willing to give him everything he wants. It makes him selfish.
He tugs on Elmott's wrist, gripping it as if he's afraid Elmott will disappear, and suddenly, his throat is tight.]
I want you to.
[Carefully, he places his hand over Elmott's, breath shaking as he guides Elmott between his thighs and where he needs it. He presses their foreheads together, and he whispers,]
I want you. Please.
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Yeah, [ he nuzzles blindly along yan qing's cheek, dips shaky fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers. ] Yeah, I got you.
[ he's had his eyes closed but he opens them again once he finds yan qing's cock, carefully wrapping his fingers around him. there's something almost sobering about it, feeling the weight of him in his hand, all velvety warm skin stiff against his fingers. he sees glimpses of a design tattooed along it and it makes him swallow, mouth suddenly gone dry as he breathes out shakily. he doesn't know what he's doing and he knows yan qing won't finish nearly as quickly as he did, but he lets his fingers run down and back up, just to get familiar with how it feels, to see what yan qing likes. ]
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Don't stare. He was never meant to be the center of attention. But...]
You like it? [A playful smirk tugs at Yan Qing's lips as he manages to ask a question between the sounds Elmott draws from him with each touch.] You keep staring, but I've never heard you say it.
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yan qing's voice makes him focus on his face briefly before he looks back down at his hands again, a deep flush on his cheeks at the smirk on his face, at the implication of his question. ]
Are you stupid? [ he says instead, leaning forward to kiss that dumb smirk. ] Of course I do.
[ it doesn't matter than yan qing is the only other person he's ever seen like this aside from himself. as with everything else about yan qing, he couldn't look away from him even if he wanted to. ]
Hard not to stare.
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That wasn't so bad. [ Yan Qing licks his lips, if only to savor the taste and let him watch. ] You're doing better. Just pretend you're getting yourself off. You do that, don't you?
[ He wonders what he thinks about when he does. His leg hooks around Elmott's waist after a wave of pleasure, and a hand threads into crimson hair as he murmurs Elmott's name and how he likes it. Harder, tighter, like that. He'll memorize it all in time. For now, all Yan Qing wants to focus on is the proximity between their mouths and the ways they can close it. ]
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Shut up, I do. [ he doesn't. not really. not because he doesn't want to, it just wasn't something he felt like doing and he wouldn't even know what to think about during. he'd been alone for so long and his world had only begun to expand recently; physical intimacy like this is a foreign concept he'd never considered before. flatly, as much as he can sound while giving a handjob: ] I guess I've got a good teacher then, huh.
[ but really, this isn't fair. there's no denying that yan qing is beautiful — even someone like him can see that and appreciate it. what makes it difficult is the fact that he's looking at him like this, that it's his hand on yan qing's dick rather than someone else; it's his hair that yan qing's hand is tangled in and elmott's heart clenches so sharply it almost hurts. he won't be able to do this with anyone else, because yan qing would be the only one he sees, and his voice would be the only one he hears. ]
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Yeah, [ he says, his wet lips just barely touching Elmott's own with every word. ] you're in good hands.
[ His touch is rough yet gentle as it moves down the firm and tight build a mage shouldn't have, committing Elmott's life and body to memory. The man before him shouldn't be so strong. If he won't share the burden, then Yan Qing knows what he has to do.
To distract him, all it takes is a kiss.
While his lips are on his, Yan Qing pulls Elmott's waistband down, takes Elmott's hand away, and realizes their hips have never been closer when he wraps his grip around their cocks. ]
So let's do it together.
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maybe it's strength, or maybe he's just too stubborn to give in when he should, too quick to lay his life and body on the line for others when he doesn't have anything else left to give.
but none of that matters. yan qing has his hand around both of them and all the air rushes out of his lungs in one breath, as if yan qing had punched him in the gut like he did in the amphitheater. for a second, elmott's fingers grasp at nothing before he blindly reaches for yan qing's bicep, remembering to breathe as he blinks his eyes open again. now that he knows what to expect, he isn't immediately getting off, but there's still something about seeing yan qing's hand wrapped around them, his tattooed length pressed against his that makes his pulse race. elmott runs hot on principle, but yan qing feels so warm to him, his grip sure and steady, and he finds himself close again despite coming not that long ago. ]
What, you gonna time it? [ he slides his hand up yan qing's arm, following the curve of muscle until he passes the delicate rise of his clavicle, curling around the back of his neck. it's concerning how he finds he can't stop kissing yan qing. ] What if I can't wait?
[ because he doesn't think he can, not for very long. not with the way yan qing has already taken hold of his body and his heart. ]
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It's hard to focus.
He has Elmott where he needs him and on most days, that's enough to fill the void. But he's been greedy lately, meeting Elmott's eyes with a hunger he is afraid to satisfy. He doesn't like it. He knows this part of him too well: once he's gotten a taste of a good thing, he'll do anything in his power to have it. Elmott has seen him at his worst, closing off his heart to protect what's important, but he hasn't seen what he's like when he's scared to lose it all. There is a reason he hasn't given a name to all this: his tender lips preoccupied with the warmth of their kiss, the feeling that rises to his chest when Elmott touches his skin. The slow and steady pump of his hand makes him all too aware of themselves, hot and thick in his palm, and it lets them feel what they can't put into words.
More. ]
Almost there, El. Think we should let the neighbors know?
[ Another chuckle escapes him before he curses under his breath, the pleasure nearly making him keel over as his hand moves with purpose. Over and over, he says Elmott's name like a mantra, and it's as if the world is closing in on him until there is nothing left but the sound of their voices and the sensation of sweat on skin. If they are found, so be it. He doesn't care about anything else. ]
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[ except don't, because yan qing's voice always does something to him that he both really likes and hates, low and sinuous as it curls into his ear and slides hot down his spine. it leaves goosebumps in its wake, makes him sink his fingers into yan qing's long hair just to have something to hold on to, because he feels like he can float away at any second. it's worse still every time he says his name, like it's the only thing he can think about, and it makes elmott's heart race for every reason other than yan qing's hand on his dick.
he's in over his head and in too deep, and it's resignation that settles in his chest rather than fear or regret, like he's finally free of whatever hesitation that had held him back since the moment yan qing breezed into his life. it doesn't matter anyway, he thinks, not when they could disappear without a moment's notice, not when there's a chance he may forget about all this whenever he finds his way back home. what's the point, when he could pull yan qing forward instead, something desperate in the way he kisses him, harder and messy and open-mouthed, because he doesn't want to wait any longer.
there's a guttural moan that gets lost between their lips, a pulse and a throb before he's floating, still kissing yan qing like it's all he knows how to do at the moment. ]
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Sticky with sweat and come, his hand remains where it is, the rest of him lightheaded and preoccupied with Elmott's lips.]
See? [he gasps, his mind still grasping for some semblance of reality. His shoulders rise and fall along with his steady breaths.] I knew you could do it.
[He then closes his eyes, pressing their foreheads together with a face finally at ease. Even now, he searches for the same warmth Elmott gave him all those nights ago.]
Did you like it? Should we do this more often? I'll do whatever you want me to, El. I...
[He lets the word hang in the air, praying that Elmott doesn't realize the things he has yet to accept.]
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there's a lot of things they could say, half-formed thoughts drifting in and out of his mind in between glimpses of yan qing's face, the expression he made when he tumbled off the edge with him. it's something he won't forget even if he wanted to, and it should be scary, should make him want to reestablish the distance between them until yan qing relentlessly bridged the gap. but he can't find it in himself to really feel anything beyond relief, relishing in the simple pleasure of being able to tilt his head just a little to kiss him for no other reason than he wants to and that he can. ]
Enough about what I want. [ yan qing's eyes are bright in the dim light, softer than he's used to seeing them. it makes him look a little younger almost, less jaded and weary, softening the angles of his face. ] I'll take anything you give me.
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Yet there is something in the way that Elmott's eyes flutter open the moment after his lips close the distance between them, something prying him open with a gentleness he's never known, and he lets it happen. As a boy, he'd always thought that to give meant to expect something in return. When he never received anything, he resolved to never give himself to anyone. He was a fool. Why would did he expect anything? There was nothing a ghost of a scoundrel like him could ever give to a kind stranger who had yet to live a single lifetime. But when Elmott takes him by the hand before he asks, he thinks what he could give would never be enough.
Yan Qing meets Elmott's earnest amber eyes and he is suddenly shy, feeling centuries younger as he takes back the youth he'd lost to duty and a one track mind. His cheeks grow hot under Elmott's gaze. He pushes against Elmott's chest in embarrassment as his heart skips a beat. Is this what it means to be carefree? The shadow of Elmott's face makes him look a little older when he draws toward him, the man's words like smoke as he tells him all he's ever wanted to hear, and for once, Yan Qing feels he doesn't have to shoulder anything alone.
His voice trembles, and he has never felt more vulnerable. ]
Can I hold you?
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You've been holding me this whole time, haven't you? [ his chuckle is light, just as his hands that settle on yan qing's waist, coaxing him closer again. ] You don't gotta ask.
[ but when has yan qing ever asked him for anything? he takes what he wants whenever he wants. elmott has always envied him for having the audacity to do so, to be bold in knowing what he wants and taking it without second guessing himself. outside of his magic, outside of battle and instruction, elmott holds himself back too often. maybe that's how they work, and maybe that's why even though yan qing's voice wavers, elmott's doesn't.
he leans in, pressing his lips gently to one pink cheek. ]
I'm here.