Work Text:
Wuxian squirms, his breaths coming in short gasps as he tries to find a comfortable position from where he’s seated, pressed up against Wangji’s chest. Wangji’s cock is hot and hard inside him and Wuxian can barely breathe with how good it feels inside him, filling him up. From behind, he hears the crinkle of a turning page and a swish of ink.
A hand reaches out to steady his hips. “Wei Ying,” Wangji says, and Wuxian can almost hear the frown in his voice. Wuxian presses his face into the crook of Wangji’s neck and keens when the movement causes him to sink down a little more on Wangji’s cock.
“Lan Zhan,” Wuxian says, breathless. He isn’t great at staying still on the best of days, let alone when he’s so worked up but Wangji just tightens his grip on Wuxian’s hips, pinning him down and keeping him in place.
“You were the one that proposed this,” Wangji reminds him, “I must still complete my work.”
Wuxian whines but lets his head fall on Wangji’s shoulder, arms coming up to clutch loosely at his robes and tries his best to keep still. Wangji hums in approval, his hand coming up to gently pat his head before he goes back to writing his reports.
He is barely aware of how much time passes by; the sound of Wangji turning the pages and the soft flicker of the candle are the only indication of the minutes ticking by. The heady scent of sandalwood surrounds him and the press of Wangji inside him, stretching him open makes him drift a little. But there’s something about being naked while Wangji is fully clothed that makes Wuxian want to act up, to mess him up the way that he is messing Wuxian up and he aches for Wangji, aches for his hands on him, for him to touch and kiss and move.
When he can take it no longer, Wuxian tugs on Wangji’s outer robe and presses himself closer against him, arching his back and bearing down on where Wangji is inside him. “Lan Zhan,” he breathes, “Lan-Er-gege…please…” He watches as Wangji’s ears slowly turn red, spreading down to his neck and smiles to himself in victory.
His moment of triumph is short-lived though, when Wangji wraps his hands under his thighs and stands up, making Wuxian gasp as he carries him, cock still buried inside, and moves them over to the bed. Wuxian digs his fingers into Wangji’s shoulders, moaning when the movement causes heat to spark across his body, hot and sensitive.
“It wasn’t even an hour,” Wangji says as they reach the bed, faintly disapproving even when his ears are bright red and his voice rough. Wuxian sighs as Wangji’s cock slips out of him and he’s gently lowered down into the blankets.
“Enough looking at your work, Lan Zhan,” he says, pulling Wangji down with him. “Look at me instead.”
Wangji kisses him then. Wuxian half suspects it’s to keep him from speaking more nonsense, but its good, slow and deep, their mouths sliding against each other and Wuxian basks at being the sole focus of his intensity and his tenderness again.
Watching as Wangji sheds his robes, Wuxian presses two fingers into himself to ease the ache of emptiness, already missing the feeling of Wangji filling him up. Wangji groans at the sight and tugs his hand away, flipping Wuxian so he’s lying on his stomach, and runs his fingers through the mess of lube and precome running down Wuxian’s thighs before slipping his fingers into him. They slide in easily, Wuxian’s hole still gaping a little from where he was taking Wangji’s cock before, and he takes a moment to fuck him on his fingers like this, slow and deep, scissoring his fingers and making Wuxian moan.
“Lan Zhan,” Wuxian whines as he thrusts his fingers in deep, “stop teasing! Come on, I’m ready, I need you in me, please.”
In response, Wangji presses his fingers hard against his prostate and Wuxian keens with how good it feels, burying his head into the sheets. Then, he’s withdrawing his fingers and finally, finally, Wuxian feels the head of his cock nudge at his entrance again. He arches his back, shameless and desperate, and the slide of Wangji’s cock into him feels so perfect he can barely breathe. Wangji fucks into him and there’s barely any resistance; he’s so loose and wet that it makes Wuxian feel hot and filthy and used.
“Wei Ying,” Wangji groans, and Wuxian loves the way his name falls from his lips, loves the way he makes him feel, the way he knows all the places which make him feel good as Wangji scrapes his teeth along the sensitive skin behind his ear and kisses the nape of his neck.
Wuxian turns his head to slot their mouths together in an open mouthed kiss, sloppy and needy and all the best things that Wangji makes him feel. He must look like a mess like this, thighs wet and sticky with lube and precome, covered with marks from Wangji’s mouth and shaking apart in his arms but if he’s a mess then so is Wangji and there’s nothing Wuxian loves more than making Wangji lose his tightly grasped control.
Wangji's hands are bruising on his hips and a particularly hard thrust makes him cry out, every nerve in his body lighting up. A part of Wuxian wishes this feeling would never end, but then Wangji gets his hand on his cock and it takes a few strokes before Wuxian is coming. He faintly registers that he’s shouting, spilling all over their sheets as his orgasm crashes over him, sending sparks across his body and making his mind go blank.
When he comes around again, he notices that Wangji still hasn’t come yet. “Keep going,” he murmurs, head still buzzing from the intensity of his orgasm.
Wangji starts to move again, slowly at first and then picking up speed when Wuxian doesn’t show any signs of discomfort. Wuxian moans at the feeling, on the edge of pain and oversensitivity, not sure whether he wants to press into it or move away but it doesn’t take long before Wangji is biting down at the junction of his shoulder and coming deep inside of him.
He lets himself drift a little, warm and sated as Wangji moves to clean them up, gently wiping away the mess trailing down Wuxian's thighs. Afterwards, he pulls Wuxian close and presses a kiss to the bite mark on his shoulder.
“Wei Ying.”
Wuxian hums as he turns around and Wangji places another kiss to the top of his head.
“I am always looking at you,” he says, as intent and serious as he always is and Wuxian can’t help but laugh, heart fluttering in his chest as he nuzzles closer to this wonderful man who he is lucky enough to call his husband. He presses a kiss against his mouth, cheeks, nose, forehead until the furrow in his forehead goes away and he’s looking at Wuxian, lips curved into a half-smile just for him.
“I know,” Wuxian says and smiles, heart full, content.