[ 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. ]
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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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
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?
no subject
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.